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+all: inferno.nnlm
+
+%.nnlm: %.txt
+	./train_ngram.sh $^ $@ work
+
+inferno.txt: pg8800.txt
+	sed -n 10339,15586p $^ | ./preprocess.pl > $@
+
+purgatorio.txt: pg8800.txt
+	sed -n 5135,10307p $^ | ./preprocess.pl > $@
+
+paradiso.txt: pg8800.txt
+	sed -n 107,5104p $^ | ./preprocess.pl > $@
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+Project Gutenberg's The Divine Comedy, Complete, by Dante Alighieri

+

+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

+

+

+Title: The Divine Comedy, Complete

+       The Vision of Paradise, Purgatory and Hell

+

+Author: Dante Alighieri

+

+Illustrator: Gustave Dore

+

+Translator: Rev. H. F. Cary

+

+Release Date: September, 2005  [Etext #8800]

+Posting Date: June 11, 2009

+

+Language: English

+

+

+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIVINE COMEDY, COMPLETE ***

+

+

+

+

+Produced by David Widger

+

+

+

+

+

+THE DIVINE COMEDY

+

+

+THE VISION

+

+OF

+

+HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE

+

+BY

+

+DANTE ALIGHIERI

+

+

+

+

+

+

+PARADISE

+

+Complete

+

+

+

+TRANSLATED BY

+

+THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A.

+

+

+

+PARADISE

+

+

+

+LIST OF CANTOS

+Canto 1

+Canto 2

+Canto 3

+Canto 4

+Canto 5

+Canto 6

+Canto 7

+Canto 8

+Canto 9

+Canto 10

+Canto 11

+Canto 12

+Canto 13

+Canto 14

+Canto 15

+Canto 16

+Canto 17

+Canto 18

+Canto 19

+Canto 20

+Canto 21

+Canto 22

+Canto 23

+Canto 24

+Canto 25

+Canto 26

+Canto 27

+Canto 28

+Canto 29

+Canto 30

+Canto 31

+Canto 32

+Canto 33

+

+

+

+

+CANTO I

+

+His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,

+Pierces the universe, and in one part

+Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.  In heav'n,

+That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,

+Witness of things, which to relate again

+Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence;

+For that, so near approaching its desire

+Our intellect is to such depth absorb'd,

+That memory cannot follow.  Nathless all,

+That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm

+Could store, shall now be matter of my song.

+

+Benign Apollo! this last labour aid,

+And make me such a vessel of thy worth,

+As thy own laurel claims of me belov'd.

+Thus far hath one of steep Parnassus' brows

+Suffic'd me; henceforth there is need of both

+For my remaining enterprise Do thou

+Enter into my bosom, and there breathe

+So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg'd

+Forth from his limbs unsheath'd.  O power divine!

+If thou to me of shine impart so much,

+That of that happy realm the shadow'd form

+Trac'd in my thoughts I may set forth to view,

+Thou shalt behold me of thy favour'd tree

+Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves;

+For to that honour thou, and my high theme

+Will fit me.  If but seldom, mighty Sire!

+To grace his triumph gathers thence a wreath

+Caesar or bard (more shame for human wills

+Deprav'd) joy to the Delphic god must spring

+From the Pierian foliage, when one breast

+Is with such thirst inspir'd.  From a small spark

+Great flame hath risen: after me perchance

+Others with better voice may pray, and gain

+From the Cirrhaean city answer kind.

+

+Through diver passages, the world's bright lamp

+Rises to mortals, but through that which joins

+Four circles with the threefold cross, in best

+Course, and in happiest constellation set

+He comes, and to the worldly wax best gives

+Its temper and impression.  Morning there,

+Here eve was by almost such passage made;

+And whiteness had o'erspread that hemisphere,

+Blackness the other part; when to the left

+I saw Beatrice turn'd, and on the sun

+Gazing, as never eagle fix'd his ken.

+As from the first a second beam is wont

+To issue, and reflected upwards rise,

+E'en as a pilgrim bent on his return,

+So of her act, that through the eyesight pass'd

+Into my fancy, mine was form'd; and straight,

+Beyond our mortal wont, I fix'd mine eyes

+Upon the sun.  Much is allowed us there,

+That here exceeds our pow'r; thanks to the place

+Made for the dwelling of the human kind

+

+I suffer'd it not long, and yet so long

+That I beheld it bick'ring sparks around,

+As iron that comes boiling from the fire.

+And suddenly upon the day appear'd

+A day new-ris'n, as he, who hath the power,

+Had with another sun bedeck'd the sky.

+

+Her eyes fast fix'd on the eternal wheels,

+Beatrice stood unmov'd; and I with ken

+Fix'd upon her, from upward gaze remov'd

+At her aspect, such inwardly became

+As Glaucus, when he tasted of the herb,

+That made him peer among the ocean gods;

+Words may not tell of that transhuman change:

+And therefore let the example serve, though weak,

+For those whom grace hath better proof in store

+

+If I were only what thou didst create,

+Then newly, Love! by whom the heav'n is rul'd,

+Thou know'st, who by thy light didst bear me up.

+Whenas the wheel which thou dost ever guide,

+Desired Spirit! with its harmony

+Temper'd of thee and measur'd, charm'd mine ear,

+Then seem'd to me so much of heav'n to blaze

+With the sun's flame, that rain or flood ne'er made

+A lake so broad.  The newness of the sound,

+And that great light, inflam'd me with desire,

+Keener than e'er was felt, to know their cause.

+

+Whence she who saw me, clearly as myself,

+To calm my troubled mind, before I ask'd,

+Open'd her lips, and gracious thus began:

+"With false imagination thou thyself

+Mak'st dull, so that thou seest not the thing,

+Which thou hadst seen, had that been shaken off.

+Thou art not on the earth as thou believ'st;

+For light'ning scap'd from its own proper place

+Ne'er ran, as thou hast hither now return'd."

+

+Although divested of my first-rais'd doubt,

+By those brief words, accompanied with smiles,

+Yet in new doubt was I entangled more,

+And said: "Already satisfied, I rest

+From admiration deep, but now admire

+How I above those lighter bodies rise."

+

+Whence, after utt'rance of a piteous sigh,

+She tow'rds me bent her eyes, with such a look,

+As on her frenzied child a mother casts;

+Then thus began: "Among themselves all things

+Have order; and from hence the form, which makes

+The universe resemble God.  In this

+The higher creatures see the printed steps

+Of that eternal worth, which is the end

+Whither the line is drawn.  All natures lean,

+In this their order, diversely, some more,

+Some less approaching to their primal source.

+Thus they to different havens are mov'd on

+Through the vast sea of being, and each one

+With instinct giv'n, that bears it in its course;

+This to the lunar sphere directs the fire,

+This prompts the hearts of mortal animals,

+This the brute earth together knits, and binds.

+Nor only creatures, void of intellect,

+Are aim'd at by this bow; but even those,

+That have intelligence and love, are pierc'd.

+That Providence, who so well orders all,

+With her own light makes ever calm the heaven,

+In which the substance, that hath greatest speed,

+Is turn'd: and thither now, as to our seat

+Predestin'd, we are carried by the force

+Of that strong cord, that never looses dart,

+But at fair aim and glad.  Yet is it true,

+That as ofttimes but ill accords the form

+To the design of art, through sluggishness

+Of unreplying matter, so this course

+Is sometimes quitted by the creature, who

+Hath power, directed thus, to bend elsewhere;

+As from a cloud the fire is seen to fall,

+From its original impulse warp'd, to earth,

+By vicious fondness.  Thou no more admire

+Thy soaring, (if I rightly deem,) than lapse

+Of torrent downwards from a mountain's height.

+There would in thee for wonder be more cause,

+If, free of hind'rance, thou hadst fix'd thyself

+Below, like fire unmoving on the earth."

+

+So said, she turn'd toward the heav'n her face.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO II

+

+All ye, who in small bark have following sail'd,

+Eager to listen, on the advent'rous track

+Of my proud keel, that singing cuts its way,

+Backward return with speed, and your own shores

+Revisit, nor put out to open sea,

+Where losing me, perchance ye may remain

+Bewilder'd in deep maze.  The way I pass

+Ne'er yet was run: Minerva breathes the gale,

+Apollo guides me, and another Nine

+To my rapt sight the arctic beams reveal.

+Ye other few, who have outstretch'd the neck.

+Timely for food of angels, on which here

+They live, yet never know satiety,

+Through the deep brine ye fearless may put out

+Your vessel, marking, well the furrow broad

+Before you in the wave, that on both sides

+Equal returns.  Those, glorious, who pass'd o'er

+To Colchos, wonder'd not as ye will do,

+When they saw Jason following the plough.

+

+The increate perpetual thirst, that draws

+Toward the realm of God's own form, bore us

+Swift almost as the heaven ye behold.

+

+Beatrice upward gaz'd, and I on her,

+And in such space as on the notch a dart

+Is plac'd, then loosen'd flies, I saw myself

+Arriv'd, where wond'rous thing engag'd my sight.

+Whence she, to whom no work of mine was hid,

+Turning to me, with aspect glad as fair,

+Bespake me: "Gratefully direct thy mind

+To God, through whom to this first star we come."

+

+Me seem'd as if a cloud had cover'd us,

+Translucent, solid, firm, and polish'd bright,

+Like adamant, which the sun's beam had smit

+Within itself the ever-during pearl

+Receiv'd us, as the wave a ray of light

+Receives, and rests unbroken.  If I then

+Was of corporeal frame, and it transcend

+Our weaker thought, how one dimension thus

+Another could endure, which needs must be

+If body enter body, how much more

+Must the desire inflame us to behold

+That essence, which discovers by what means

+God and our nature join'd!  There will be seen

+That which we hold through faith, not shown by proof,

+But in itself intelligibly plain,

+E'en as the truth that man at first believes.

+

+I answered: "Lady! I with thoughts devout,

+Such as I best can frame, give thanks to Him,

+Who hath remov'd me from the mortal world.

+But tell, I pray thee, whence the gloomy spots

+Upon this body, which below on earth

+Give rise to talk of Cain in fabling quaint?"

+

+She somewhat smil'd, then spake: "If mortals err

+In their opinion, when the key of sense

+Unlocks not, surely wonder's weapon keen

+Ought not to pierce thee; since thou find'st, the wings

+Of reason to pursue the senses' flight

+Are short.  But what thy own thought is, declare."

+

+Then I: "What various here above appears,

+Is caus'd, I deem, by bodies dense or rare."

+

+She then resum'd: "Thou certainly wilt see

+In falsehood thy belief o'erwhelm'd, if well

+Thou listen to the arguments, which I

+Shall bring to face it.  The eighth sphere displays

+Numberless lights, the which in kind and size

+May be remark'd of different aspects;

+If rare or dense of that were cause alone,

+One single virtue then would be in all,

+Alike distributed, or more, or less.

+Different virtues needs must be the fruits

+Of formal principles, and these, save one,

+Will by thy reasoning be destroy'd.  Beside,

+If rarity were of that dusk the cause,

+Which thou inquirest, either in some part

+That planet must throughout be void, nor fed

+With its own matter; or, as bodies share

+Their fat and leanness, in like manner this

+Must in its volume change the leaves.  The first,

+If it were true, had through the sun's eclipse

+Been manifested, by transparency

+Of light, as through aught rare beside effus'd.

+But this is not.  Therefore remains to see

+The other cause: and if the other fall,

+Erroneous so must prove what seem'd to thee.

+If not from side to side this rarity

+Pass through, there needs must be a limit, whence

+Its contrary no further lets it pass.

+And hence the beam, that from without proceeds,

+Must be pour'd back, as colour comes, through glass

+Reflected, which behind it lead conceals.

+Now wilt thou say, that there of murkier hue

+Than in the other part the ray is shown,

+By being thence refracted farther back.

+From this perplexity will free thee soon

+Experience, if thereof thou trial make,

+The fountain whence your arts derive their streame.

+Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove

+From thee alike, and more remote the third.

+Betwixt the former pair, shall meet thine eyes;

+Then turn'd toward them, cause behind thy back

+A light to stand, that on the three shall shine,

+And thus reflected come to thee from all.

+Though that beheld most distant do not stretch

+A space so ample, yet in brightness thou

+Will own it equaling the rest.  But now,

+As under snow the ground, if the warm ray

+Smites it, remains dismantled of the hue

+And cold, that cover'd it before, so thee,

+Dismantled in thy mind, I will inform

+With light so lively, that the tremulous beam

+Shall quiver where it falls.  Within the heaven,

+Where peace divine inhabits, circles round

+A body, in whose virtue dies the being

+Of all that it contains.  The following heaven,

+That hath so many lights, this being divides,

+Through  different essences, from it distinct,

+And yet contain'd within it.  The other orbs

+Their separate distinctions variously

+Dispose, for their own seed and produce apt.

+Thus do these organs of the world proceed,

+As thou beholdest now, from step to step,

+Their influences from above deriving,

+And thence transmitting downwards.  Mark me well,

+How through this passage to the truth I ford,

+The truth thou lov'st, that thou henceforth alone,

+May'st know to keep the shallows, safe, untold.

+

+"The virtue and motion of the sacred orbs,

+As mallet by the workman's hand, must needs

+By blessed movers be inspir'd.  This heaven,

+Made beauteous by so many luminaries,

+From the deep spirit, that moves its circling sphere,

+Its image takes an impress as a seal:

+And as the soul, that dwells within your dust,

+Through members different, yet together form'd,

+In different pow'rs resolves itself; e'en so

+The intellectual efficacy unfolds

+Its goodness multiplied throughout the stars;

+On its own unity revolving still.

+Different virtue compact different

+Makes with the precious body it enlivens,

+With which it knits, as life in you is knit.

+From its original nature full of joy,

+The virtue mingled through the body shines,

+As joy through pupil of the living eye.

+From hence proceeds, that which from light to light

+Seems different, and not from dense or rare.

+This is the formal cause, that generates

+Proportion'd to its power, the dusk or clear."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO III

+

+That sun, which erst with love my bosom warm'd

+Had of fair truth unveil'd the sweet aspect,

+By proof of right, and of the false reproof;

+And I, to own myself convinc'd and free

+Of doubt, as much as needed, rais'd my head

+Erect for speech.  But soon a sight appear'd,

+Which, so intent to mark it, held me fix'd,

+That of confession I no longer thought.

+

+As through translucent and smooth glass, or wave

+Clear and unmov'd, and flowing not so deep

+As that its bed is dark, the shape returns

+So faint of our impictur'd lineaments,

+That on white forehead set a pearl as strong

+Comes to the eye: such saw I many a face,

+All stretch'd to speak, from whence I straight conceiv'd

+Delusion opposite to that, which rais'd

+Between the man and fountain, amorous flame.

+

+Sudden, as I perceiv'd them, deeming these

+Reflected semblances to see of whom

+They were, I turn'd mine eyes, and nothing saw;

+Then turn'd them back, directed on the light

+Of my sweet guide, who smiling shot forth beams

+From her celestial eyes.  "Wonder not thou,"

+She cry'd, "at this my smiling, when I see

+Thy childish judgment; since not yet on truth

+It rests the foot, but, as it still is wont,

+Makes thee fall back in unsound vacancy.

+True substances are these, which thou behold'st,

+Hither through failure of their vow exil'd.

+But speak thou with them; listen, and believe,

+That the true light, which fills them with desire,

+Permits not from its beams their feet to stray."

+

+Straight to the shadow which for converse seem'd

+Most earnest, I addressed me, and began,

+As one by over-eagerness perplex'd:

+"O spirit, born for joy! who in the rays

+Of life eternal, of that sweetness know'st

+The flavour, which, not tasted, passes far

+All apprehension, me it well would please,

+If thou wouldst tell me of thy name, and this

+Your station here." Whence she, with kindness prompt,

+And eyes glist'ning with smiles: "Our charity,

+To any wish by justice introduc'd,

+Bars not the door, no more than she above,

+Who would have all her court be like herself.

+I was a virgin sister in the earth;

+And if thy mind observe me well, this form,

+With such addition grac'd of loveliness,

+Will not conceal me long, but thou wilt know

+Piccarda, in the tardiest sphere thus plac'd,

+Here 'mid these other blessed also blest.

+Our hearts, whose high affections burn alone

+With pleasure, from the Holy Spirit conceiv'd,

+Admitted to his order dwell in joy.

+And this condition, which appears so low,

+Is for this cause assign'd us, that our vows

+Were in some part neglected and made void."

+

+Whence I to her replied: "Something divine

+Beams in your countenance, wond'rous fair,

+From former knowledge quite transmuting you.

+Therefore to recollect was I so slow.

+But what thou sayst hath to my memory

+Given now such aid, that to retrace your forms

+Is easier.  Yet inform me, ye, who here

+Are happy, long ye for a higher place

+More to behold, and more in love to dwell?"

+

+She with those other spirits gently smil'd,

+Then answer'd with such gladness, that she seem'd

+With love's first flame to glow: "Brother! our will

+Is in composure settled by the power

+Of charity, who makes us will alone

+What we possess, and nought beyond desire;

+If we should wish to be exalted more,

+Then must our wishes jar with the high will

+Of him, who sets us here, which in these orbs

+Thou wilt confess not possible, if here

+To be in charity must needs befall,

+And if her nature well thou contemplate.

+Rather it is inherent in this state

+Of blessedness, to keep ourselves within

+The divine will, by which our wills with his

+Are one.  So that as we from step to step

+Are plac'd throughout this kingdom, pleases all,

+E'en as our King, who in us plants his will;

+And in his will is our tranquillity;

+It is the mighty ocean, whither tends

+Whatever it creates and nature makes."

+

+Then saw I clearly how each spot in heav'n

+Is Paradise, though with like gracious dew

+The supreme virtue show'r not over all.

+

+But as it chances, if one sort of food

+Hath satiated, and of another still

+The appetite remains, that this is ask'd,

+And thanks for that return'd; e'en so did I

+In word and motion, bent from her to learn

+What web it was, through which she had not drawn

+The shuttle to its point.  She thus began:

+"Exalted worth and perfectness of life

+The Lady higher up enshrine in heaven,

+By whose pure laws upon your nether earth

+The robe and veil they wear, to that intent,

+That e'en till death they may keep watch or sleep

+With their great bridegroom, who accepts each vow,

+Which to his gracious pleasure love conforms.

+from the world, to follow her, when young

+Escap'd; and, in her vesture mantling me,

+Made promise of the way her sect enjoins.

+Thereafter men, for ill than good more apt,

+Forth snatch'd me from the pleasant cloister's pale.

+God knows how after that my life was fram'd.

+This other splendid shape, which thou beholdst

+At my right side, burning with all the light

+Of this our orb, what of myself I tell

+May to herself apply.  From her, like me

+A sister, with like violence were torn

+The saintly folds, that shaded her fair brows.

+E'en when she to the world again was brought

+In spite of her own will and better wont,

+Yet not for that the bosom's inward veil

+Did she renounce.  This is the luminary

+Of mighty Constance, who from that loud blast,

+Which blew the second over Suabia's realm,

+That power produc'd, which was the third and last."

+

+She ceas'd from further talk, and then began

+"Ave Maria" singing, and with that song

+Vanish'd, as heavy substance through deep wave.

+

+Mine eye, that far as it was capable,

+Pursued her, when in dimness she was lost,

+Turn'd to the mark where greater want impell'd,

+And bent on Beatrice all its gaze.

+But she as light'ning beam'd upon my looks:

+So that the sight sustain'd it not at first.

+Whence I to question her became less prompt.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO IV

+

+Between two kinds of food, both equally

+Remote and tempting, first a man might die

+Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose.

+E'en so would stand a lamb between the maw

+Of two fierce wolves, in dread of both alike:

+E'en so between two deer a dog would stand,

+Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise

+I to myself impute, by equal doubts

+Held in suspense, since of necessity

+It happen'd.  Silent was I, yet desire

+Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake

+My wish more earnestly than language could.

+

+As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed

+From ire, that spurr'd him on to deeds unjust

+And violent; so look'd Beatrice then.

+

+"Well I discern," she thus her words address'd,

+"How contrary desires each way constrain thee,

+So that thy anxious thought is in itself

+Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth.

+Thou arguest; if the good intent remain;

+What reason that another's violence

+Should stint the measure of my fair desert?

+

+"Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems,

+That spirits to the stars, as Plato deem'd,

+Return.  These are the questions which thy will

+Urge equally; and therefore I the first

+Of that will treat which hath the more of gall.

+Of seraphim he who is most ensky'd,

+Moses and Samuel, and either John,

+Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary's self,

+Have not in any other heav'n their seats,

+Than have those spirits which so late thou saw'st;

+Nor more or fewer years exist; but all

+Make the first circle beauteous, diversely

+Partaking of sweet life, as more or less

+Afflation of eternal bliss pervades them.

+Here were they shown thee, not that fate assigns

+This for their sphere, but for a sign to thee

+Of that celestial furthest from the height.

+Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak:

+Since from things sensible alone ye learn

+That, which digested rightly after turns

+To intellectual.  For no other cause

+The scripture, condescending graciously

+To your perception, hands and feet to God

+Attributes, nor so means: and holy church

+Doth represent with human countenance

+Gabriel, and Michael, and him who made

+Tobias whole.  Unlike what here thou seest,

+The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms

+Each soul restor'd to its particular star,

+Believing it to have been taken thence,

+When nature gave it to inform her mold:

+Since to appearance his intention is

+E'en what his words declare: or else to shun

+Derision, haply thus he hath disguis'd

+His true opinion.  If his meaning be,

+That to the influencing of these orbs revert

+The honour and the blame in human acts,

+Perchance he doth not wholly miss the truth.

+This principle, not understood aright,

+Erewhile perverted well nigh all the world;

+So that it fell to fabled names of Jove,

+And Mercury, and Mars.  That other doubt,

+Which moves thee, is less harmful; for it brings

+No peril of removing thee from me.

+

+"That, to the eye of man, our justice seems

+Unjust, is argument for faith, and not

+For heretic declension.  To the end

+This truth may stand more clearly in your view,

+I will content thee even to thy wish

+

+"If violence be, when that which suffers, nought

+Consents to that which forceth, not for this

+These spirits stood exculpate.  For the will,

+That will not, still survives unquench'd, and doth

+As nature doth in fire, tho' violence

+Wrest it a thousand times; for, if it yield

+Or more or less, so far it follows force.

+And thus did these, whom they had power to seek

+The hallow'd place again.  In them, had will

+Been perfect, such as once upon the bars

+Held Laurence firm, or wrought in Scaevola

+To his own hand remorseless, to the path,

+Whence they were drawn, their steps had hasten'd back,

+When liberty return'd: but in too few

+Resolve so steadfast dwells.  And by these words

+If duly weigh'd, that argument is void,

+Which oft might have perplex'd thee still.  But now

+Another question thwarts thee, which to solve

+Might try thy patience without better aid.

+I have, no doubt, instill'd into thy mind,

+That blessed spirit may not lie; since near

+The source of primal truth it dwells for aye:

+And thou might'st after of Piccarda learn

+That Constance held affection to the veil;

+So that she seems to contradict me here.

+Not seldom, brother, it hath chanc'd for men

+To do what they had gladly left undone,

+Yet to shun peril they have done amiss:

+E'en as Alcmaeon, at his father's suit

+Slew his own mother, so made pitiless

+Not to lose pity.  On this point bethink thee,

+That force and will are blended in such wise

+As not to make the' offence excusable.

+Absolute will agrees not to the wrong,

+That inasmuch as there is fear of woe

+From non-compliance, it agrees.  Of will

+Thus absolute Piccarda spake, and I

+Of th' other; so that both have truly said."

+

+Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well'd

+From forth the fountain of all truth; and such

+The rest, that to my wond'ring thoughts I found.

+

+"O thou of primal love the prime delight!

+Goddess!"  I straight reply'd, "whose lively words

+Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul!

+Affection fails me to requite thy grace

+With equal sum of gratitude: be his

+To recompense, who sees and can reward thee.

+Well I discern, that by that truth alone

+Enlighten'd, beyond which no truth may roam,

+Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know:

+Therein she resteth, e'en as in his lair

+The wild beast, soon as she hath reach'd that bound,

+And she hath power to reach it; else desire

+Were given to no end.  And thence doth doubt

+Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth;

+And it is nature which from height to height

+On to the summit prompts us.  This invites,

+This doth assure me, lady, rev'rently

+To ask thee of other truth, that yet

+Is dark to me.  I fain would know, if man

+By other works well done may so supply

+The failure of his vows, that in your scale

+They lack not weight."  I spake; and on me straight

+Beatrice look'd with eyes that shot forth sparks

+Of love celestial in such copious stream,

+That, virtue sinking in me overpower'd,

+I turn'd, and downward bent confus'd my sight.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO V

+

+"If beyond earthly wont, the flame of love

+Illume me, so that I o'ercome thy power

+Of vision, marvel not: but learn the cause

+In that perfection of the sight, which soon

+As apprehending, hasteneth on to reach

+The good it apprehends.  I well discern,

+How in thine intellect already shines

+The light eternal, which to view alone

+Ne'er fails to kindle love; and if aught else

+Your love seduces, 't is but that it shows

+Some ill-mark'd vestige of that primal beam.

+

+"This would'st thou know, if failure of the vow

+By other service may be so supplied,

+As from self-question to assure the soul."

+

+Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish,

+Began; and thus, as one who breaks not off

+Discourse, continued in her saintly strain.

+"Supreme of gifts, which God creating gave

+Of his free bounty, sign most evident

+Of goodness, and in his account most priz'd,

+Was liberty of will, the boon wherewith

+All intellectual creatures, and them sole

+He hath endow'd.  Hence now thou mayst infer

+Of what high worth the vow, which so is fram'd

+That when man offers, God well-pleas'd accepts;

+For in the compact between God and him,

+This treasure, such as I describe it to thee,

+He makes the victim, and of his own act.

+What compensation therefore may he find?

+If that, whereof thou hast oblation made,

+By using well thou think'st to consecrate,

+Thou would'st of theft do charitable deed.

+Thus I resolve thee of the greater point.

+

+"But forasmuch as holy church, herein

+Dispensing, seems to contradict the truth

+I have discover'd to thee, yet behooves

+Thou rest a little longer at the board,

+Ere the crude aliment, which thou hast taken,

+Digested fitly to nutrition turn.

+Open thy mind to what I now unfold,

+And give it inward keeping.  Knowledge comes

+Of learning well retain'd, unfruitful else.

+

+"This sacrifice in essence of two things

+Consisteth; one is that, whereof 't is made,

+The covenant the other.  For the last,

+It ne'er is cancell'd if not kept: and hence

+I spake erewhile so strictly of its force.

+For this it was enjoin'd the Israelites,

+Though leave were giv'n them, as thou know'st, to change

+The offering, still to offer.  Th' other part,

+The matter and the substance of the vow,

+May well be such, to that without offence

+It may for other substance be exchang'd.

+But at his own discretion none may shift

+The burden on his shoulders, unreleas'd

+By either key, the yellow and the white.

+Nor deem of any change, as less than vain,

+If the last bond be not within the new

+Included, as the quatre in the six.

+No satisfaction therefore can be paid

+For what so precious in the balance weighs,

+That all in counterpoise must kick the beam.

+Take then no vow at random: ta'en, with faith

+Preserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once,

+Blindly to execute a rash resolve,

+Whom better it had suited to exclaim,

+'I have done ill,' than to redeem his pledge

+By doing worse or, not unlike to him

+In folly, that great leader of the Greeks:

+Whence, on the alter, Iphigenia mourn'd

+Her virgin beauty, and hath since made mourn

+Both wise and simple, even all, who hear

+Of so fell sacrifice.  Be ye more staid,

+O Christians, not, like feather, by each wind

+Removable: nor think to cleanse ourselves

+In every water.  Either testament,

+The old and new, is yours: and for your guide

+The shepherd of the church let this suffice

+To save you.  When by evil lust entic'd,

+Remember ye be men, not senseless beasts;

+Nor let the Jew, who dwelleth in your streets,

+Hold you in mock'ry.  Be not, as the lamb,

+That, fickle wanton, leaves its mother's milk,

+To dally with itself in idle play."

+

+Such were the words that Beatrice spake:

+These ended, to that region, where the world

+Is liveliest, full of fond desire she turn'd.

+

+Though mainly prompt new question to propose,

+Her silence and chang'd look did keep me dumb.

+And as the arrow, ere the cord is still,

+Leapeth unto its mark; so on we sped

+Into the second realm.  There I beheld

+The dame, so joyous enter, that the orb

+Grew brighter at her smiles; and, if the star

+Were mov'd to gladness, what then was my cheer,

+Whom nature hath made apt for every change!

+

+As in a quiet and clear lake the fish,

+If aught approach them from without, do draw

+Towards it, deeming it their food; so drew

+Full more than thousand splendours towards us,

+And in each one was heard: "Lo! one arriv'd

+To multiply our loves!" and as each came

+The shadow, streaming forth effulgence new,

+Witness'd augmented joy.  Here, reader! think,

+If thou didst miss the sequel of my tale,

+To know the rest how sorely thou wouldst crave;

+And thou shalt see what vehement desire

+Possess'd me, as soon as these had met my view,

+To know their state.  "O born in happy hour!

+Thou to whom grace vouchsafes, or ere thy close

+Of fleshly warfare, to behold the thrones

+Of that eternal triumph, know to us

+The light communicated, which through heaven

+Expatiates without bound.  Therefore, if aught

+Thou of our beams wouldst borrow for thine aid,

+Spare not; and of our radiance take thy fill."

+

+Thus of those piteous spirits one bespake me;

+And Beatrice next: "Say on; and trust

+As unto gods!"--"How in the light supreme

+Thou harbour'st, and from thence the virtue bring'st,

+That, sparkling in thine eyes, denotes thy joy,

+I mark; but, who thou art, am still to seek;

+Or wherefore, worthy spirit! for thy lot

+This sphere assign'd, that oft from mortal ken

+Is veil'd by others' beams."  I said, and turn'd

+Toward the lustre, that with greeting, kind

+Erewhile had hail'd me.  Forthwith brighter far

+Than erst, it wax'd: and, as himself the sun

+Hides through excess of light, when his warm gaze

+Hath on the mantle of thick vapours prey'd;

+Within its proper ray the saintly shape

+Was, through increase of gladness, thus conceal'd;

+And, shrouded so in splendour answer'd me,

+E'en as the tenour of my song declares.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO VI

+

+"After that Constantine the eagle turn'd

+Against the motions of the heav'n, that roll'd

+Consenting with its course, when he of yore,

+Lavinia's spouse, was leader of the flight,

+A hundred years twice told and more, his seat

+At Europe's extreme point, the bird of Jove

+Held, near the mountains, whence he issued first.

+There, under shadow of his sacred plumes

+Swaying the world, till through successive hands

+To mine he came devolv'd.  Caesar I was,

+And am Justinian; destin'd by the will

+Of that prime love, whose influence I feel,

+From vain excess to clear th' encumber'd laws.

+Or ere that work engag'd me, I did hold

+Christ's nature merely human, with such faith

+Contented.  But the blessed Agapete,

+Who was chief shepherd, he with warning voice

+To the true faith recall'd me.  I believ'd

+His words: and what he taught, now plainly see,

+As thou in every contradiction seest

+The true and false oppos'd.  Soon as my feet

+Were to the church reclaim'd, to my great task,

+By inspiration of God's grace impell'd,

+I gave me wholly, and consign'd mine arms

+To Belisarius, with whom heaven's right hand

+Was link'd in such conjointment, 't was a sign

+That I should rest.  To thy first question thus

+I shape mine answer, which were ended here,

+But that its tendency doth prompt perforce

+To some addition; that thou well, mayst mark

+What reason on each side they have to plead,

+By whom that holiest banner is withstood,

+Both who pretend its power and who oppose.

+

+"Beginning from that hour, when Pallas died

+To give it rule, behold the valorous deeds

+Have made it worthy reverence.  Not unknown

+To thee, how for three hundred years and more

+It dwelt in Alba, up to those fell lists

+Where for its sake were met the rival three;

+Nor aught unknown to thee, which it achiev'd

+Down to the Sabines' wrong to Lucrece' woe,

+With its sev'n kings conqu'ring the nation round;

+Nor all it wrought, by Roman worthies home

+'Gainst Brennus and th' Epirot prince, and hosts

+Of single chiefs, or states in league combin'd

+Of social warfare; hence Torquatus stern,

+And Quintius nam'd of his neglected locks,

+The Decii, and the Fabii hence acquir'd

+Their fame, which I with duteous zeal embalm.

+By it the pride of Arab hordes was quell'd,

+When they led on by Hannibal o'erpass'd

+The Alpine rocks, whence glide thy currents, Po!

+Beneath its guidance, in their prime of days

+Scipio and Pompey triumph'd; and that hill,

+Under whose summit thou didst see the light,

+Rued its stern bearing.  After, near the hour,

+When heav'n was minded that o'er all the world

+His own deep calm should brood, to Caesar's hand

+Did Rome consign it; and what then it wrought

+From Var unto the Rhine, saw Isere's flood,

+Saw Loire and Seine, and every vale, that fills

+The torrent Rhone.  What after that it wrought,

+When from Ravenna it came forth, and leap'd

+The Rubicon, was of so bold a flight,

+That tongue nor pen may follow it.  Tow'rds Spain

+It wheel'd its bands, then tow'rd Dyrrachium smote,

+And on Pharsalia with so fierce a plunge,

+E'en the warm Nile was conscious to the pang;

+Its native shores Antandros, and the streams

+Of Simois revisited, and there

+Where Hector lies; then ill for Ptolemy

+His pennons shook again; lightning thence fell

+On Juba; and the next upon your west,

+At sound of the Pompeian trump, return'd.

+

+"What following and in its next bearer's gripe

+It wrought, is now by Cassius and Brutus

+Bark'd off in hell, and by Perugia's sons

+And Modena's was mourn'd.  Hence weepeth still

+Sad Cleopatra, who, pursued by it,

+Took from the adder black and sudden death.

+With him it ran e'en to the Red Sea coast;

+With him compos'd the world to such a peace,

+That of his temple Janus barr'd the door.

+

+"But all the mighty standard yet had wrought,

+And was appointed to perform thereafter,

+Throughout the mortal kingdom which it sway'd,

+Falls in appearance dwindled and obscur'd,

+If one with steady eye and perfect thought

+On the third Caesar look; for to his hands,

+The living Justice, in whose breath I move,

+Committed glory, e'en into his hands,

+To execute the vengeance of its wrath.

+

+"Hear now and wonder at what next I tell.

+After with Titus it was sent to wreak

+Vengeance for vengeance of the ancient sin,

+And, when the Lombard tooth, with fangs impure,

+Did gore the bosom of the holy church,

+Under its wings victorious, Charlemagne

+Sped to her rescue.  Judge then for thyself

+Of those, whom I erewhile accus'd to thee,

+What they are, and how grievous their offending,

+Who are the cause of all your ills.  The one

+Against the universal ensign rears

+The yellow lilies, and with partial aim

+That to himself the other arrogates:

+So that 't is hard to see which more offends.

+Be yours, ye Ghibellines, to veil your arts

+Beneath another standard: ill is this

+Follow'd of him, who severs it and justice:

+And let not with his Guelphs the new-crown'd Charles

+Assail it, but those talons hold in dread,

+Which from a lion of more lofty port

+Have rent the easing.  Many a time ere now

+The sons have for the sire's transgression wail'd;

+Nor let him trust the fond belief, that heav'n

+Will truck its armour for his lilied shield.

+

+"This little star is furnish'd with good spirits,

+Whose mortal lives were busied to that end,

+That honour and renown might wait on them:

+And, when desires thus err in their intention,

+True love must needs ascend with slacker beam.

+But it is part of our delight, to measure

+Our wages with the merit; and admire

+The close proportion.  Hence doth heav'nly justice

+Temper so evenly affection in us,

+It ne'er can warp to any wrongfulness.

+Of diverse voices is sweet music made:

+So in our life the different degrees

+Render sweet harmony among these wheels.

+

+"Within the pearl, that now encloseth us,

+Shines Romeo's light, whose goodly deed and fair

+Met ill acceptance.  But the Provencals,

+That were his foes, have little cause for mirth.

+Ill shapes that man his course, who makes his wrong

+Of other's worth.  Four daughters were there born

+To Raymond Berenger, and every one

+Became a queen; and this for him did Romeo,

+Though of mean state and from a foreign land.

+Yet envious tongues incited him to ask

+A reckoning of that just one, who return'd

+Twelve fold to him for ten.  Aged and poor

+He parted thence: and if the world did know

+The heart he had, begging his life by morsels,

+'T would deem the praise, it yields him, scantly dealt."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO VII

+

+"Hosanna Sanctus Deus Sabaoth

+Superillustrans claritate tua

+Felices ignes horum malahoth!"

+Thus chanting saw I turn that substance bright

+With fourfold lustre to its orb again,

+Revolving; and the rest unto their dance

+With it mov'd also; and like swiftest sparks,

+In sudden distance from my sight were veil'd.

+

+Me doubt possess'd, and "Speak," it whisper'd me,

+"Speak, speak unto thy lady, that she quench

+Thy thirst with drops of sweetness."  Yet blank awe,

+Which lords it o'er me, even at the sound

+Of Beatrice's name, did bow me down

+As one in slumber held.  Not long that mood

+Beatrice suffer'd: she, with such a smile,

+As might have made one blest amid the flames,

+Beaming upon me, thus her words began:

+"Thou in thy thought art pond'ring (as I deem),

+And what I deem is truth how just revenge

+Could be with justice punish'd: from which doubt

+I soon will free thee; so thou mark my words;

+For they of weighty matter shall possess thee.

+

+"That man, who was unborn, himself condemn'd,

+And, in himself, all, who since him have liv'd,

+His offspring: whence, below, the human kind

+Lay sick in grievous error many an age;

+Until it pleas'd the Word of God to come

+Amongst them down, to his own person joining

+The nature, from its Maker far estrang'd,

+By the mere act of his eternal love.

+Contemplate here the wonder I unfold.

+The nature with its Maker thus conjoin'd,

+Created first was blameless, pure and good;

+But through itself alone was driven forth

+From Paradise, because it had eschew'd

+The way of truth and life, to evil turn'd.

+Ne'er then was penalty so just as that

+Inflicted by the cross, if thou regard

+The nature in assumption doom'd: ne'er wrong

+So great, in reference to him, who took

+Such nature on him, and endur'd the doom.

+God therefore and the Jews one sentence pleased:

+So different effects flow'd from one act,

+And heav'n was open'd, though the earth did quake.

+Count it not hard henceforth, when thou dost hear

+That a just vengeance was by righteous court

+Justly reveng'd.  But yet I see thy mind

+By thought on thought arising sore perplex'd,

+And with how vehement desire it asks

+Solution of the maze.  What I have heard,

+Is plain, thou sayst: but wherefore God this way

+For our redemption chose, eludes my search.

+

+"Brother! no eye of man not perfected,

+Nor fully ripen'd in the flame of love,

+May fathom this decree.  It is a mark,

+In sooth, much aim'd at, and but little kenn'd:

+And I will therefore show thee why such way

+Was worthiest.  The celestial love, that spume

+All envying in its bounty, in itself

+With such effulgence blazeth, as sends forth

+All beauteous things eternal.  What distils

+Immediate thence, no end of being knows,

+Bearing its seal immutably impress'd.

+Whatever thence immediate falls, is free,

+Free wholly, uncontrollable by power

+Of each thing new: by such conformity

+More grateful to its author, whose bright beams,

+Though all partake their shining, yet in those

+Are liveliest, which resemble him the most.

+These tokens of pre-eminence on man

+Largely bestow'd, if any of them fail,

+He needs must forfeit his nobility,

+No longer stainless.  Sin alone is that,

+Which doth disfranchise him, and make unlike

+To the chief good; for that its light in him

+Is darken'd.  And to dignity thus lost

+Is no return; unless, where guilt makes void,

+He for ill pleasure pay with equal pain.

+Your nature, which entirely in its seed

+Trangress'd, from these distinctions fell, no less

+Than from its state in Paradise; nor means

+Found of recovery (search all methods out

+As strickly as thou may) save one of these,

+The only fords were left through which to wade,

+Either that God had of his courtesy

+Releas'd him merely, or else man himself

+For his own folly by himself aton'd.

+

+"Fix now thine eye, intently as thou canst,

+On th' everlasting counsel, and explore,

+Instructed by my words, the dread abyss.

+

+"Man in himself had ever lack'd the means

+Of satisfaction, for he could not stoop

+Obeying, in humility so low,

+As high he, disobeying, thought to soar:

+And for this reason he had vainly tried

+Out of his own sufficiency to pay

+The rigid satisfaction.  Then behooved

+That God should by his own ways lead him back

+Unto the life, from whence he fell, restor'd:

+By both his ways, I mean, or one alone.

+But since the deed is ever priz'd the more,

+The more the doer's good intent appears,

+Goodness celestial, whose broad signature

+Is on the universe, of all its ways

+To raise ye up, was fain to leave out none,

+Nor aught so vast or so magnificent,

+Either for him who gave or who receiv'd

+Between the last night and the primal day,

+Was or can be.  For God more bounty show'd.

+Giving himself to make man capable

+Of his return to life, than had the terms

+Been mere and unconditional release.

+And for his justice, every method else

+Were all too scant, had not the Son of God

+Humbled himself to put on mortal flesh.

+

+"Now, to fulfil each wish of thine, remains

+I somewhat further to thy view unfold.

+That thou mayst see as clearly as myself.

+

+"I see, thou sayst, the air, the fire I see,

+The earth and water, and all things of them

+Compounded, to corruption turn, and soon

+Dissolve.  Yet these were also things create,

+Because, if what were told me, had been true

+They from corruption had been therefore free.

+

+"The angels, O my brother! and this clime

+Wherein thou art, impassible and pure,

+I call created, as indeed they are

+In their whole being.  But the elements,

+Which thou hast nam'd, and what of them is made,

+Are by created virtue' inform'd: create

+Their substance, and create the' informing virtue

+In these bright stars, that round them circling move

+The soul of every brute and of each plant,

+The ray and motion of the sacred lights,

+With complex potency attract and turn.

+But this our life the' eternal good inspires

+Immediate, and enamours of itself;

+So that our wishes rest for ever here.

+

+"And hence thou mayst by inference conclude

+Our resurrection certain, if thy mind

+Consider how the human flesh was fram'd,

+When both our parents at the first were made."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO VIII

+

+The world was in its day of peril dark

+Wont to believe the dotage of fond love

+From the fair Cyprian deity, who rolls

+In her third epicycle, shed on men

+By stream of potent radiance: therefore they

+Of elder time, in their old error blind,

+Not her alone with sacrifice ador'd

+And invocation, but like honours paid

+To Cupid and Dione, deem'd of them

+Her mother, and her son, him whom they feign'd

+To sit in Dido's bosom: and from her,

+Whom I have sung preluding, borrow'd they

+The appellation of that star, which views,

+Now obvious and now averse, the sun.

+

+I was not ware that I was wafted up

+Into  its orb; but the new loveliness

+That grac'd my lady, gave me ample proof

+That we had entered there.  And as in flame

+A sparkle is distinct, or voice in voice

+Discern'd, when one its even tenour keeps,

+The other comes and goes; so in that light

+I other luminaries saw, that cours'd

+In circling motion, rapid more or less,

+As their eternal phases each impels.

+

+Never was blast from vapour charged with cold,

+Whether invisible to eye or no,

+Descended with such speed, it had not seem'd

+To linger in dull tardiness, compar'd

+To those celestial lights, that tow'rds us came,

+Leaving the circuit of their joyous ring,

+Conducted by the lofty seraphim.

+And after them, who in the van appear'd,

+Such an hosanna sounded, as hath left

+Desire, ne'er since extinct in me, to hear

+Renew'd the strain.  Then parting from the rest

+One near us drew, and sole began: "We all

+Are ready at thy pleasure, well dispos'd

+To do thee gentle service.  We are they,

+To whom thou in the world erewhile didst Sing

+'O ye! whose intellectual ministry

+Moves the third heaven!' and in one orb we roll,

+One motion, one impulse, with those who rule

+Princedoms in heaven; yet are of love so full,

+That to please thee 't will be as sweet to rest."

+

+After mine eyes had with meek reverence

+Sought the celestial guide, and were by her

+Assur'd, they turn'd again unto the light

+Who had so largely promis'd, and with voice

+That bare the lively pressure of my zeal,

+"Tell who ye are," I cried.  Forthwith it grew

+In size and splendour, through augmented joy;

+And thus it answer'd: "A short date below

+The world possess'd me.  Had the time been more,

+Much evil, that will come, had never chanc'd.

+My gladness hides thee from me, which doth shine

+Around, and shroud me, as an animal

+In its own silk unswath'd.  Thou lov'dst me well,

+And had'st good cause; for had my sojourning

+Been longer on the earth, the love I bare thee

+Had put forth more than blossoms.  The left bank,

+That Rhone, when he hath mix'd with Sorga, laves.

+

+"In me its lord expected, and that horn

+Of fair Ausonia, with its boroughs old,

+Bari, and Croton, and Gaeta pil'd,

+From where the Trento disembogues his waves,

+With Verde mingled, to the salt sea-flood.

+Already on my temples beam'd the crown,

+Which gave me sov'reignty over the land

+By Danube wash'd, whenas he strays beyond

+The limits of his German shores.  The realm,

+Where, on the gulf by stormy Eurus lash'd,

+Betwixt Pelorus and Pachynian heights,

+The beautiful Trinacria lies in gloom

+(Not through Typhaeus, but the vap'ry cloud

+Bituminous upsteam'd), THAT too did look

+To have its scepter wielded by a race

+Of monarchs, sprung through me from Charles and Rodolph;

+had not ill lording which doth spirit up

+The people ever, in Palermo rais'd

+The shout of 'death,' re-echo'd loud and long.

+Had but my brother's foresight kenn'd as much,

+He had been warier that the greedy want

+Of Catalonia might not work his bale.

+And truly need there is, that he forecast,

+Or other for him, lest more freight be laid

+On his already over-laden bark.

+Nature in him, from bounty fall'n to thrift,

+Would ask the  guard of braver arms, than such

+As only care to have their coffers fill'd."

+

+"My liege, it doth enhance the joy thy words

+Infuse into me, mighty as it is,

+To think my gladness manifest to thee,

+As to myself, who own it, when thou lookst

+Into the source and limit of all good,

+There, where thou markest that which thou dost speak,

+Thence priz'd of me the more.  Glad thou hast made me.

+Now make intelligent, clearing the doubt

+Thy speech hath raised in me; for much I muse,

+How bitter can spring up, when sweet is sown."

+

+I thus inquiring; he forthwith replied:

+"If I have power to show one truth, soon that

+Shall face thee, which thy questioning declares

+Behind thee now conceal'd.  The Good, that guides

+And blessed makes this realm, which thou dost mount,

+Ordains its providence to be the virtue

+In these great bodies: nor th' all perfect Mind

+Upholds their nature merely, but in them

+Their energy to save: for nought, that lies

+Within the range of that unerring bow,

+But is as level with the destin'd aim,

+As ever mark to arrow's point oppos'd.

+Were it not thus, these heavens, thou dost visit,

+Would their effect so work, it would not be

+Art, but destruction; and this may not chance,

+If th' intellectual powers, that move these stars,

+Fail not, or who, first faulty made them fail.

+Wilt thou this truth more clearly evidenc'd?"

+

+To whom I thus: "It is enough: no fear,

+I see, lest nature in her part should tire."

+

+He straight rejoin'd: "Say, were it worse for man,

+If he liv'd not in fellowship on earth?"

+

+"Yea," answer'd I; "nor here a reason needs."

+

+"And may that be, if different estates

+Grow not of different duties in your life?

+Consult your teacher, and he tells you 'no."'

+

+Thus did he come, deducing to this point,

+And then concluded: "For this cause behooves,

+The roots, from whence your operations come,

+Must differ.  Therefore one is Solon born;

+Another, Xerxes; and Melchisidec

+A third; and he a fourth, whose airy voyage

+Cost him his son.  In her circuitous course,

+Nature, that is the seal to mortal wax,

+Doth well her art, but no distinctions owns

+'Twixt one or other household.  Hence befalls

+That Esau is so wide of Jacob: hence

+Quirinus of so base a father springs,

+He dates from Mars his lineage.  Were it not

+That providence celestial overrul'd,

+Nature, in generation, must the path

+Trac'd by the generator, still pursue

+Unswervingly.  Thus place I in thy sight

+That, which was late behind thee.  But, in sign

+Of more affection for thee, 't is my will

+Thou wear this corollary.  Nature ever

+Finding discordant fortune, like all seed

+Out of its proper climate, thrives but ill.

+And were the world below content to mark

+And work on the foundation nature lays,

+It would not lack supply of excellence.

+But ye perversely to religion strain

+Him, who was born to gird on him the sword,

+And of the fluent phrasemen make your king;

+Therefore your steps have wander'd from the paths."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO IX

+

+After solution of my doubt, thy Charles,

+O fair Clemenza, of the treachery spake

+That must befall his seed: but, "Tell it not,"

+Said he, "and let the destin'd years come round."

+Nor may I tell thee more, save that the meed

+Of sorrow well-deserv'd shall quit your wrongs.

+

+And now the visage of that saintly light

+Was to the sun, that fills it, turn'd again,

+As to the good, whose plenitude of bliss

+Sufficeth all.  O ye misguided souls!

+Infatuate, who from such a good estrange

+Your hearts, and bend your gaze on vanity,

+Alas for you!--And lo! toward me, next,

+Another of those splendent forms approach'd,

+That, by its outward bright'ning, testified

+The will it had to pleasure me.  The eyes

+Of Beatrice, resting, as before,

+Firmly upon me, manifested forth

+Approval of my wish.  "And O," I cried,

+"Blest spirit! quickly be my will perform'd;

+And prove thou to me, that my inmost thoughts

+I can reflect on thee."  Thereat the light,

+That yet was new to me, from the recess,

+Where it before was singing, thus began,

+As one who joys in kindness: "In that part

+Of the deprav'd Italian land, which lies

+Between Rialto, and the fountain-springs

+Of Brenta and of Piava, there doth rise,

+But to no lofty eminence, a hill,

+From whence erewhile a firebrand did descend,

+That sorely sheet the region.  From one root

+I and it sprang; my name on earth Cunizza:

+And here I glitter, for that by its light

+This star o'ercame me.  Yet I naught repine,

+Nor grudge myself the cause of this my lot,

+Which haply vulgar hearts can scarce conceive.

+

+"This jewel, that is next me in our heaven,

+Lustrous and costly, great renown hath left,

+And not to perish, ere these hundred years

+Five times absolve their round.  Consider thou,

+If to excel be worthy man's endeavour,

+When such life may attend the first.  Yet they

+Care not for this, the crowd that now are girt

+By Adice and Tagliamento, still

+Impenitent, tho' scourg'd.  The hour is near,

+When for their stubbornness at Padua's marsh

+The water shall be chang'd, that laves Vicena

+And where Cagnano meets with Sile, one

+Lords it, and bears his head aloft, for whom

+The web is now a-warping.  Feltro too

+Shall sorrow for its godless shepherd's fault,

+Of so deep stain, that never, for the like,

+Was Malta's bar unclos'd.  Too large should be

+The skillet, that would hold Ferrara's blood,

+And wearied he, who ounce by ounce would weight it,

+The which this priest, in show of party-zeal,

+Courteous will give; nor will the gift ill suit

+The country's custom.  We descry above,

+Mirrors, ye call them thrones, from which to us

+Reflected shine the judgments of our God:

+Whence these our sayings we avouch for good."

+

+She ended, and appear'd on other thoughts

+Intent, re-ent'ring on the wheel she late

+Had left.  That other joyance meanwhile wax'd

+A thing to marvel at, in splendour glowing,

+Like choicest ruby stricken by the sun,

+For, in that upper clime, effulgence comes

+Of gladness, as here laughter: and below,

+As the mind saddens, murkier grows the shade.

+

+"God seeth all: and in him is thy sight,"

+Said I, "blest Spirit!  Therefore will of his

+Cannot to thee be dark.  Why then delays

+Thy voice to satisfy my wish untold,

+That voice which joins the inexpressive song,

+Pastime of heav'n, the which those ardours sing,

+That cowl them with six shadowing wings outspread?

+I would not wait thy asking, wert thou known

+To me, as thoroughly I to thee am known."

+

+He forthwith answ'ring, thus his words began:

+"The valley' of waters, widest next to that

+Which doth the earth engarland, shapes its course,

+Between discordant shores, against the sun

+Inward so far, it makes meridian there,

+Where was before th' horizon.  Of that vale

+Dwelt I upon the shore, 'twixt Ebro's stream

+And Macra's, that divides with passage brief

+Genoan bounds from Tuscan.  East and west

+Are nearly one to Begga and my land,

+Whose haven erst was with its own blood warm.

+Who knew my name were wont to call me Folco:

+And I did bear impression of this heav'n,

+That now bears mine: for not with fiercer flame

+Glow'd Belus' daughter, injuring alike

+Sichaeus and Creusa, than did I,

+Long as it suited the unripen'd down

+That fledg'd my cheek: nor she of Rhodope,

+That was beguiled of Demophoon;

+Nor Jove's son, when the charms of Iole

+Were shrin'd within his heart.  And yet there hides

+No sorrowful repentance here, but mirth,

+Not for the fault (that doth not come to mind),

+But for the virtue, whose o'erruling sway

+And providence have wrought thus quaintly.  Here

+The skill is look'd into, that fashioneth

+With such effectual working, and the good

+Discern'd, accruing to this upper world

+From that below.  But fully to content

+Thy wishes, all that in this sphere have birth,

+Demands my further parle.  Inquire thou wouldst,

+Who of this light is denizen, that here

+Beside me sparkles, as the sun-beam doth

+On the clear wave.  Know then, the soul of Rahab

+Is in that gladsome harbour, to our tribe

+United, and the foremost rank assign'd.

+He to that heav'n, at which the shadow ends

+Of your sublunar world, was taken up,

+First, in Christ's triumph, of all souls redeem'd:

+For well behoov'd, that, in some part of heav'n,

+She should remain a trophy, to declare

+The mighty contest won with either palm;

+For that she favour'd first the high exploit

+Of Joshua on the holy land, whereof

+The Pope recks little now.  Thy city, plant

+Of him, that on his Maker turn'd the back,

+And of whose envying so much woe hath sprung,

+Engenders and expands the cursed flower,

+That hath made wander both the sheep and lambs,

+Turning the shepherd to a wolf.  For this,

+The gospel and great teachers laid aside,

+The decretals, as their stuft margins show,

+Are the sole study.  Pope and Cardinals,

+Intent on these, ne'er journey but in thought

+To Nazareth, where Gabriel op'd his wings.

+Yet it may chance, erelong, the Vatican,

+And other most selected parts of Rome,

+That were the grave of Peter's soldiery,

+Shall be deliver'd from the adult'rous bond."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO X

+

+Looking into his first-born with the love,

+Which breathes from both eternal, the first Might

+Ineffable, whence eye or mind

+Can roam, hath in such order all dispos'd,

+As none may see and fail to enjoy.  Raise, then,

+O reader! to the lofty wheels, with me,

+Thy ken directed to the point, whereat

+One motion strikes on th' other.  There begin

+Thy wonder of the mighty Architect,

+Who loves his work so inwardly, his eye

+Doth ever watch it.  See, how thence oblique

+Brancheth the circle, where the planets roll

+To pour their wished influence on the world;

+Whose path not bending thus, in heav'n above

+Much virtue would be lost, and here on earth,

+All power well nigh extinct: or, from direct

+Were its departure distant more or less,

+I' th' universal order, great defect

+Must, both in heav'n and here beneath, ensue.

+

+Now rest thee, reader! on thy bench, and muse

+Anticipative of the feast to come;

+So shall delight make thee not feel thy toil.

+Lo! I have set before thee, for thyself

+Feed now: the matter I indite, henceforth

+Demands entire my thought.  Join'd with the part,

+Which late we told of, the great minister

+Of nature, that upon the world imprints

+The virtue of the heaven, and doles out

+Time for us with his beam, went circling on

+Along the spires, where each hour sooner comes;

+And I was with him, weetless of ascent,

+As one, who till arriv'd, weets not his coming.

+

+For Beatrice, she who passeth on

+So suddenly from good to better, time

+Counts not the act, oh then how great must needs

+Have been her brightness!  What she was i' th' sun

+(Where I had enter'd), not through change of hue,

+But light transparent--did I summon up

+Genius, art, practice--I might not so speak,

+It should be e'er imagin'd: yet believ'd

+It may be, and the sight be justly crav'd.

+And if our fantasy fail of such height,

+What marvel, since no eye above the sun

+Hath ever travel'd?  Such are they dwell here,

+Fourth family of the Omnipotent Sire,

+Who of his spirit and of his offspring shows;

+And holds them still enraptur'd with the view.

+And thus to me Beatrice: "Thank, oh thank,

+The Sun of angels, him, who by his grace

+To this perceptible hath lifted thee."

+

+Never was heart in such devotion bound,

+And with complacency so absolute

+Dispos'd to render up itself to God,

+As mine was at those words: and so entire

+The love for Him, that held me, it eclips'd

+Beatrice in oblivion.  Naught displeas'd

+Was she, but smil'd thereat so joyously,

+That of her laughing eyes the radiance brake

+And scatter'd my collected mind abroad.

+

+Then saw I a bright band, in liveliness

+Surpassing, who themselves did make the crown,

+And us their centre: yet more sweet in voice,

+Than in their visage beaming.  Cinctur'd thus,

+Sometime Latona's daughter we behold,

+When the impregnate air retains the thread,

+That weaves her zone.  In the celestial court,

+Whence I return, are many jewels found,

+So dear and beautiful, they cannot brook

+Transporting from that realm: and of these lights

+Such was the song.  Who doth not prune his wing

+To soar up thither, let him look from thence

+For tidings from the dumb.  When, singing thus,

+Those burning suns that circled round us thrice,

+As nearest stars around the fixed pole,

+Then seem'd they like to ladies, from the dance

+Not ceasing, but suspense, in silent pause,

+List'ning, till they have caught the strain anew:

+Suspended so they stood: and, from within,

+Thus heard I one, who spake: "Since with its beam

+The grace, whence true love lighteth first his flame,

+That after doth increase by loving, shines

+So multiplied in thee, it leads thee up

+Along this ladder, down whose hallow'd steps

+None e'er descend, and mount them not again,

+Who from his phial should refuse thee wine

+To slake thy thirst, no less constrained were,

+Than water flowing not unto the sea.

+Thou fain wouldst hear, what plants are these, that bloom

+In the bright garland, which, admiring, girds

+This fair dame round, who strengthens thee for heav'n.

+I then was of the lambs, that Dominic

+Leads, for his saintly flock, along the way,

+Where well they thrive, not sworn with vanity.

+He, nearest on my right hand, brother was,

+And master to me: Albert of Cologne

+Is this: and of Aquinum, Thomas I.

+If thou of all the rest wouldst be assur'd,

+Let thine eye, waiting on the words I speak,

+In circuit journey round the blessed wreath.

+That next resplendence issues from the smile

+Of Gratian, who to either forum lent

+Such help, as favour wins in Paradise.

+The other, nearest, who adorns our quire,

+Was Peter, he that with the widow gave

+To holy church his treasure.  The fifth light,

+Goodliest of all, is by such love inspired,

+That all your world craves tidings of its doom:

+Within, there is the lofty light, endow'd

+With sapience so profound, if truth be truth,

+That with a ken of such wide amplitude

+No second hath arisen.  Next behold

+That taper's radiance, to whose view was shown,

+Clearliest, the nature and the ministry

+Angelical, while yet in flesh it dwelt.

+In the other little light serenely smiles

+That pleader for the Christian temples, he

+Who did provide Augustin of his lore.

+Now, if thy mind's eye pass from light to light,

+Upon my praises following, of the eighth

+Thy thirst is next.  The saintly soul, that shows

+The world's deceitfulness, to all who hear him,

+Is, with the sight of all the good, that is,

+Blest there.  The limbs, whence it was driven, lie

+Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom

+And exile came it here.  Lo! further on,

+Where flames the arduous Spirit of Isidore,

+Of Bede, and Richard, more than man, erewhile,

+In deep discernment.  Lastly this, from whom

+Thy look on me reverteth, was the beam

+Of one, whose spirit, on high musings bent,

+Rebuk'd the ling'ring tardiness of death.

+It is the eternal light of Sigebert,

+Who 'scap'd not envy, when of truth he argued,

+Reading in the straw-litter'd street."  Forthwith,

+As clock, that calleth up the spouse of God

+To win her bridegroom's love at matin's hour,

+Each part of other fitly drawn and urg'd,

+Sends out a tinkling sound, of note so sweet,

+Affection springs in well-disposed breast;

+Thus saw I move the glorious wheel, thus heard

+Voice answ'ring voice, so musical and soft,

+It can be known but where day endless shines.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XI

+

+O fond anxiety of mortal men!

+How vain and inconclusive arguments

+Are those, which make thee beat thy wings below

+For statues one, and one for aphorisms

+Was hunting; this the priesthood follow'd, that

+By force or sophistry aspir'd to rule;

+To rob another, and another sought

+By civil business wealth; one moiling lay

+Tangled in net of sensual delight,

+And one to witless indolence resign'd;

+What time from all these empty things escap'd,

+With Beatrice, I thus gloriously

+Was rais'd aloft, and made the guest of heav'n.

+

+They of the circle to that point, each one.

+Where erst it was, had turn'd; and steady glow'd,

+As candle in his socket.  Then within

+The lustre, that erewhile bespake me, smiling

+With merer gladness, heard I thus begin:

+

+"E'en as his beam illumes me, so I look

+Into the eternal light, and clearly mark

+Thy thoughts, from whence they rise.  Thou art in doubt,

+And wouldst, that I should bolt my words afresh

+In such plain open phrase, as may be smooth

+To thy perception, where I told thee late

+That 'well they thrive;' and that 'no second such

+Hath risen,' which no small distinction needs.

+

+"The providence, that governeth the world,

+In depth of counsel by created ken

+Unfathomable, to the end that she,

+Who with loud cries was 'spous'd in precious blood,

+Might keep her footing towards her well-belov'd,

+Safe in herself and constant unto him,

+Hath two ordain'd, who should on either hand

+In chief escort her: one seraphic all

+In fervency; for wisdom upon earth,

+The other splendour of cherubic light.

+I but of one will tell: he tells of both,

+Who one commendeth which of them so'er

+Be taken: for their deeds were to one end.

+

+"Between Tupino, and the wave, that falls

+From blest Ubaldo's chosen hill, there hangs

+Rich slope of mountain high, whence heat and cold

+Are wafted through Perugia's eastern gate:

+And Norcera with Gualdo, in its rear

+Mourn for their heavy yoke.  Upon that side,

+Where it doth break its steepness most, arose

+A sun upon the world, as duly this

+From Ganges doth: therefore let none, who speak

+Of that place, say Ascesi; for its name

+Were lamely so deliver'd; but the East,

+To call things rightly, be it henceforth styl'd.

+He was not yet much distant from his rising,

+When his good influence 'gan to bless the earth.

+A dame to whom none openeth pleasure's gate

+More than to death, was, 'gainst his father's will,

+His stripling choice: and he did make her his,

+Before the Spiritual court, by nuptial bonds,

+And in his father's sight: from day to day,

+Then lov'd her more devoutly.  She, bereav'd

+Of her first husband, slighted and obscure,

+Thousand and hundred years and more, remain'd

+Without a single suitor, till he came.

+Nor aught avail'd, that, with Amyclas, she

+Was found unmov'd at rumour of his voice,

+Who shook the world: nor aught her constant boldness

+Whereby with Christ she mounted on the cross,

+When Mary stay'd beneath.  But not to deal

+Thus closely with thee longer, take at large

+The rovers' titles--Poverty and Francis.

+Their concord and glad looks, wonder and love,

+And sweet regard gave birth to holy thoughts,

+So much, that venerable Bernard first

+Did bare his feet, and, in pursuit of peace

+So heavenly, ran, yet deem'd his footing slow.

+O hidden riches!  O prolific good!

+Egidius bares him next, and next Sylvester,

+And follow both the bridegroom; so the bride

+Can please them.  Thenceforth goes he on his way,

+The father and the master, with his spouse,

+And with that family, whom now the cord

+Girt humbly: nor did abjectness of heart

+Weigh down his eyelids, for that he was son

+Of Pietro Bernardone, and by men

+In wond'rous sort despis'd.  But royally

+His hard intention he to Innocent

+Set forth, and from him first receiv'd the seal

+On his religion.  Then, when numerous flock'd

+The tribe of lowly ones, that trac'd HIS steps,

+Whose marvellous life deservedly were sung

+In heights empyreal, through Honorius' hand

+A second crown, to deck their Guardian's virtues,

+Was by the eternal Spirit inwreath'd: and when

+He had, through thirst of martyrdom, stood up

+In the proud Soldan's presence, and there preach'd

+Christ and his followers; but found the race

+Unripen'd for conversion: back once more

+He hasted (not to intermit his toil),

+And reap'd Ausonian lands.  On the hard rock,

+'Twixt Arno and the Tyber, he from Christ

+Took the last Signet, which his limbs two years

+Did carry.  Then the season come, that he,

+Who to such good had destin'd him, was pleas'd

+T' advance him to the meed, which he had earn'd

+By his self-humbling, to his brotherhood,

+As their just heritage, he gave in charge

+His dearest lady, and enjoin'd their love

+And faith to her: and, from her bosom, will'd

+His goodly spirit should move forth, returning

+To its appointed kingdom, nor would have

+His body laid upon another bier.

+

+"Think now of one, who were a fit colleague,

+To keep the bark of Peter in deep sea

+Helm'd to right point; and such our Patriarch was.

+Therefore who follow him, as he enjoins,

+Thou mayst be certain, take good lading in.

+But hunger of new viands tempts his flock,

+So that they needs into strange pastures wide

+Must spread them: and the more remote from him

+The stragglers wander, so much mole they come

+Home to the sheep-fold, destitute of milk.

+There are of them, in truth, who fear their harm,

+And to the shepherd cleave; but these so few,

+A little stuff may furnish out their cloaks.

+

+"Now, if my words be clear, if thou have ta'en

+Good heed, if that, which I have told, recall

+To mind, thy wish may be in part fulfill'd:

+For thou wilt see the point from whence they split,

+Nor miss of the reproof, which that implies,

+'That well they thrive not sworn with vanity."'

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XII

+

+Soon as its final word the blessed flame

+Had rais'd for utterance, straight the holy mill

+Began to wheel, nor yet had once revolv'd,

+Or ere another, circling, compass'd it,

+Motion to motion, song to song, conjoining,

+Song, that as much our muses doth excel,

+Our Sirens with their tuneful pipes, as ray

+Of primal splendour doth its faint reflex.

+

+As when, if Juno bid her handmaid forth,

+Two arches parallel, and trick'd alike,

+Span the thin cloud, the outer taking birth

+From that within (in manner of that voice

+Whom love did melt away, as sun the mist),

+And they who gaze, presageful call to mind

+The compact, made with Noah, of the world

+No more to be o'erflow'd; about us thus

+Of sempiternal roses, bending, wreath'd

+Those garlands twain, and to the innermost

+E'en thus th' external answered.  When the footing,

+And other great festivity, of song,

+And radiance, light with light accordant, each

+Jocund and blythe, had at their pleasure still'd

+(E'en as the eyes by quick volition mov'd,

+Are shut and rais'd together), from the heart

+Of one amongst the new lights mov'd a voice,

+That made me seem like needle to the star,

+In turning to its whereabout, and thus

+Began: "The love, that makes me beautiful,

+Prompts me to tell of th' other guide, for whom

+Such good of mine is spoken.  Where one is,

+The other worthily should also be;

+That as their warfare was alike, alike

+Should be their glory.  Slow, and full of doubt,

+And with thin ranks, after its banner mov'd

+The army of Christ (which it so clearly cost

+To reappoint), when its imperial Head,

+Who reigneth ever, for the drooping host

+Did make provision, thorough grace alone,

+And not through its deserving.  As thou heard'st,

+Two champions to the succour of his spouse

+He sent, who by their deeds and words might join

+Again his scatter'd people.  In that clime,

+Where springs the pleasant west-wind to unfold

+The fresh leaves, with which Europe sees herself

+New-garmented; nor from those billows far,

+Beyond whose chiding, after weary course,

+The sun doth sometimes hide him, safe abides

+The happy Callaroga, under guard

+Of the great shield, wherein the lion lies

+Subjected and supreme.  And there was born

+The loving million of the Christian faith,

+The hollow'd wrestler, gentle to his own,

+And to his enemies terrible.  So replete

+His soul with lively virtue, that when first

+Created, even in the mother's womb,

+It prophesied.  When, at the sacred font,

+The spousals were complete 'twixt faith and him,

+Where pledge of mutual safety was exchang'd,

+The dame, who was his surety, in her sleep

+Beheld the wondrous fruit, that was from him

+And from his heirs to issue.  And that such

+He might be construed, as indeed he was,

+She was inspir'd to name him of his owner,

+Whose he was wholly, and so call'd him Dominic.

+And I speak of him, as the labourer,

+Whom Christ in his own garden chose to be

+His help-mate.  Messenger he seem'd, and friend

+Fast-knit to Christ; and the first love he show'd,

+Was after the first counsel that Christ gave.

+Many a time his nurse, at entering found

+That he had ris'n in silence, and was prostrate,

+As who should say, "My errand was for this."

+O happy father!  Felix rightly nam'd!

+O favour'd mother! rightly nam'd Joanna!

+If that do mean, as men interpret it.

+Not for the world's sake, for which now they pore

+Upon Ostiense and Taddeo's page,

+But for the real manna, soon he grew

+Mighty in learning, and did set himself

+To go about the vineyard, that soon turns

+To wan and wither'd, if not tended well:

+And from the see (whose bounty to the just

+And needy is gone by, not through its fault,

+But his who fills it basely, he besought,

+No dispensation for commuted wrong,

+Nor the first vacant fortune, nor the tenth),

+That to God's paupers rightly appertain,

+But, 'gainst an erring and degenerate world,

+Licence to fight, in favour of that seed,

+From which the twice twelve cions gird thee round.

+Then, with sage doctrine and good will to help,

+Forth on his great apostleship he far'd,

+Like torrent bursting from a lofty vein;

+And, dashing 'gainst the stocks of heresy,

+Smote fiercest, where resistance was most stout.

+Thence many rivulets have since been turn'd,

+Over the garden Catholic to lead

+Their living waters, and have fed its plants.

+

+"If such one wheel of that two-yoked car,

+Wherein the holy church defended her,

+And rode triumphant through the civil broil.

+Thou canst not doubt its fellow's excellence,

+Which Thomas, ere my coming, hath declar'd

+So courteously unto thee.  But the track,

+Which its smooth fellies made, is now deserted:

+That mouldy mother is where late were lees.

+His family, that wont to trace his path,

+Turn backward, and invert their steps; erelong

+To rue the gathering in of their ill crop,

+When the rejected tares in vain shall ask

+Admittance to the barn.  I question not

+But he, who search'd our volume, leaf by leaf,

+Might still find page with this inscription on't,

+'I am as I was wont.'  Yet such were not

+From Acquasparta nor Casale, whence

+Of those, who come to meddle with the text,

+One stretches and another cramps its rule.

+Bonaventura's life in me behold,

+From Bagnororegio, one, who in discharge

+Of my great offices still laid aside

+All sinister aim.  Illuminato here,

+And Agostino join me: two they were,

+Among the first of those barefooted meek ones,

+Who sought God's friendship in the cord: with them

+Hugues of Saint Victor, Pietro Mangiadore,

+And he of Spain in his twelve volumes shining,

+Nathan the prophet, Metropolitan

+Chrysostom, and Anselmo, and, who deign'd

+To put his hand to the first art, Donatus.

+Raban is here: and at my side there shines

+Calabria's abbot, Joachim, endow'd

+With soul prophetic.  The bright courtesy

+Of friar Thomas, and his goodly lore,

+Have mov'd me to the blazon of a peer

+So worthy, and with me have mov'd this throng."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIII

+

+Let him, who would conceive what now I saw,

+Imagine (and retain the image firm,

+As mountain rock, the whilst he hears me speak),

+Of stars fifteen, from midst the ethereal host

+Selected, that, with lively ray serene,

+O'ercome the massiest air: thereto imagine

+The wain, that, in the bosom of our sky,

+Spins ever on its axle night and day,

+With the bright summit of that horn which swells

+Due from the pole, round which the first wheel rolls,

+T' have rang'd themselves in fashion of two signs

+In heav'n, such as Ariadne made,

+When death's chill seized her; and that one of them

+Did compass in the other's beam; and both

+In such sort whirl around, that each should tend

+With opposite motion and, conceiving thus,

+Of that true constellation, and the dance

+Twofold, that circled me, he shall attain

+As 't were the shadow; for things there as much

+Surpass our usage, as the swiftest heav'n

+Is swifter than the Chiana.  There was sung

+No Bacchus, and no Io Paean, but

+Three Persons in the Godhead, and in one

+Substance that nature and the human join'd.

+

+The song fulfill'd its measure; and to us

+Those saintly lights attended, happier made

+At each new minist'ring.  Then silence brake,

+Amid th' accordant sons of Deity,

+That luminary, in which the wondrous life

+Of the meek man of God was told to me;

+And thus it spake: "One ear o' th' harvest thresh'd,

+And its grain safely stor'd, sweet charity

+Invites me with the other to like toil.

+

+"Thou know'st, that in the bosom, whence the rib

+Was ta'en to fashion that fair cheek, whose taste

+All the world pays for, and in that, which pierc'd

+By the keen lance, both after and before

+Such satisfaction offer'd, as outweighs

+Each evil in the scale, whate'er of light

+To human nature is allow'd, must all

+Have by his virtue been infus'd, who form'd

+Both one and other: and thou thence admir'st

+In that I told thee, of beatitudes

+A second, there is none, to his enclos'd

+In the fifth radiance.  Open now thine eyes

+To what I answer thee; and thou shalt see

+Thy deeming and my saying meet in truth,

+As centre in the round.  That which dies not,

+And that which can die, are but each the beam

+Of that idea, which our Soverign Sire

+Engendereth loving; for that lively light,

+Which passeth from his brightness; not disjoin'd

+From him, nor from his love triune with them,

+Doth, through his bounty, congregate itself,

+Mirror'd, as 't were in new existences,

+Itself unalterable and ever one.

+

+"Descending hence unto the lowest powers,

+Its energy so sinks, at last it makes

+But brief contingencies: for so I name

+Things generated, which the heav'nly orbs

+Moving, with seed or without seed, produce.

+Their wax, and that which molds it, differ much:

+And thence with lustre, more or less, it shows

+Th' ideal stamp impress: so that one tree

+According to his kind, hath better fruit,

+And worse: and, at your birth, ye, mortal men,

+Are in your talents various.  Were the wax

+Molded with nice exactness, and the heav'n

+In its disposing influence supreme,

+The lustre of the seal should be complete:

+But nature renders it imperfect ever,

+Resembling thus the artist in her work,

+Whose faultering hand is faithless to his skill.

+Howe'er, if love itself dispose, and mark

+The primal virtue, kindling with bright view,

+There all perfection is vouchsafed; and such

+The clay was made, accomplish'd with each gift,

+That life can teem with; such the burden fill'd

+The virgin's bosom: so that I commend

+Thy judgment, that the human nature ne'er

+Was or can be, such as in them it was.

+

+"Did I advance no further than this point,

+'How then had he no peer?'  thou might'st reply.

+But, that what now appears not, may appear

+Right plainly, ponder, who he was, and what

+(When he was bidden 'Ask' ), the motive sway'd

+To his requesting.  I have spoken thus,

+That thou mayst see, he was a king, who ask'd

+For wisdom, to the end he might be king

+Sufficient: not the number to search out

+Of the celestial movers; or to know,

+If necessary with contingent e'er

+Have made necessity; or whether that

+Be granted, that first motion is; or if

+Of the mid circle can, by art, be made

+Triangle with each corner, blunt or sharp.

+

+"Whence, noting that, which I have said, and this,

+Thou kingly prudence and that ken mayst learn,

+At which the dart of my intention aims.

+And, marking clearly, that I told thee, 'Risen,'

+Thou shalt discern it only hath respect

+To kings, of whom are many, and the good

+Are rare.  With this distinction take my words;

+And they may well consist with that which thou

+Of the first human father dost believe,

+And of our well-beloved.  And let this

+Henceforth be led unto thy feet, to make

+Thee slow in motion, as a weary man,

+Both to the 'yea' and to the 'nay' thou seest not.

+For he among the fools is down full low,

+Whose affirmation, or denial, is

+Without distinction, in each case alike

+Since it befalls, that in most instances

+Current opinion leads to false: and then

+Affection bends the judgment to her ply.

+

+"Much more than vainly doth he loose from shore,

+Since he returns not such as he set forth,

+Who fishes for the truth and wanteth skill.

+And open proofs of this unto the world

+Have been afforded in Parmenides,

+Melissus, Bryso, and the crowd beside,

+Who journey'd on, and knew not whither: so did

+Sabellius, Arius, and the other fools,

+Who, like to scymitars, reflected back

+The scripture-image, by distortion marr'd.

+

+"Let not the people be too swift to judge,

+As one who reckons on the blades in field,

+Or ere the crop be ripe.  For I have seen

+The thorn frown rudely all the winter long

+And after bear the rose upon its top;

+And bark, that all the way across the sea

+Ran straight and speedy, perish at the last,

+E'en in the haven's mouth seeing one steal,

+Another brine, his offering to the priest,

+Let not Dame Birtha and Sir Martin thence

+Into heav'n's counsels deem that they can pry:

+For one of these may rise, the other fall."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIV

+

+From centre to the circle, and so back

+From circle to the centre, water moves

+In the round chalice, even as the blow

+Impels it, inwardly, or from without.

+Such was the image glanc'd into my mind,

+As the great spirit of Aquinum ceas'd;

+And Beatrice after him her words

+Resum'd alternate: "Need there is (tho' yet

+He tells it to you not in words, nor e'en

+In thought) that he should fathom to its depth

+Another mystery.  Tell him, if the light,

+Wherewith your substance blooms, shall stay with you

+Eternally, as now: and, if it doth,

+How, when ye shall regain your visible forms,

+The sight may without harm endure the change,

+That also tell."  As those, who in a ring

+Tread the light measure, in their fitful mirth

+Raise loud the voice, and spring with gladder bound;

+Thus, at the hearing of that pious suit,

+The saintly circles in their tourneying

+And wond'rous note attested new delight.

+

+Whoso laments, that we must doff this garb

+Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live

+Immortally above, he hath not seen

+The sweet refreshing, of that heav'nly shower.

+

+Him, who lives ever, and for ever reigns

+In mystic union of the Three in One,

+Unbounded, bounding all, each spirit thrice

+Sang, with such melody, as but to hear

+For highest merit were an ample meed.

+And from the lesser orb the goodliest light,

+With gentle voice and mild, such as perhaps

+The angel's once to Mary, thus replied:

+"Long as the joy of Paradise shall last,

+Our love shall shine around that raiment, bright,

+As fervent; fervent, as in vision blest;

+And that as far in blessedness exceeding,

+As it hath grave beyond its virtue great.

+Our shape, regarmented with glorious weeds

+Of saintly flesh, must, being thus entire,

+Show yet more gracious.  Therefore shall increase,

+Whate'er of light, gratuitous, imparts

+The Supreme Good; light, ministering aid,

+The better disclose his glory: whence

+The vision needs increasing, much increase

+The fervour, which it kindles; and that too

+The ray, that comes from it.  But as the greed

+Which gives out flame, yet it its whiteness shines

+More lively than that, and so preserves

+Its proper semblance; thus this circling sphere

+Of splendour, shall to view less radiant seem,

+Than shall our fleshly robe, which yonder earth

+Now covers.  Nor will such excess of light

+O'erpower us, in corporeal organs made

+Firm, and susceptible of all delight."

+

+So ready and so cordial an "Amen,"

+Followed from either choir, as plainly spoke

+Desire of their dead bodies; yet perchance

+Not for themselves, but for their kindred dear,

+Mothers and sires, and those whom best they lov'd,

+Ere they were made imperishable flame.

+

+And lo! forthwith there rose up round about

+A lustre over that already there,

+Of equal clearness, like the brightening up

+Of the horizon.  As at an evening hour

+Of twilight, new appearances through heav'n

+Peer with faint glimmer, doubtfully descried;

+So there new substances, methought began

+To rise in view; and round the other twain

+Enwheeling, sweep their ampler circuit wide.

+

+O gentle glitter of eternal beam!

+With what a such whiteness did it flow,

+O'erpowering vision in me!  But so fair,

+So passing lovely, Beatrice show'd,

+Mind cannot follow it, nor words express

+Her infinite sweetness.  Thence mine eyes regain'd

+Power to look up, and I beheld myself,

+Sole with my lady, to more lofty bliss

+Translated: for the star, with warmer smile

+Impurpled, well denoted our ascent.

+

+With all the heart, and with that tongue which speaks

+The same in all, an holocaust I made

+To God, befitting the new grace vouchsaf'd.

+And from my bosom had not yet upsteam'd

+The fuming of that incense, when I knew

+The rite accepted.  With such mighty sheen

+And mantling crimson, in two listed rays

+The splendours shot before me, that I cried,

+"God of Sabaoth! that does prank them thus!"

+

+As leads the galaxy from pole to pole,

+Distinguish'd into greater lights and less,

+Its pathway, which the wisest fail to spell;

+So thickly studded, in the depth of Mars,

+Those rays describ'd the venerable sign,

+That quadrants in the round conjoining frame.

+Here memory mocks the toil of genius.  Christ

+Beam'd on that cross; and pattern fails me now.

+But whoso takes his cross, and follows Christ

+Will pardon me for that I leave untold,

+When in the flecker'd dawning he shall spy

+The glitterance of Christ.  From horn to horn,

+And 'tween the summit and the base did move

+Lights, scintillating, as they met and pass'd.

+Thus oft are seen, with ever-changeful glance,

+Straight or athwart, now rapid and now slow,

+The atomies of bodies, long or short,

+To move along the sunbeam, whose slant line

+Checkers the shadow, interpos'd by art

+Against the noontide heat.  And as the chime

+Of minstrel music, dulcimer, and help

+With many strings, a pleasant dining makes

+To him, who heareth not distinct the note;

+So from the lights, which there appear'd to me,

+Gather'd along the cross a melody,

+That, indistinctly heard, with ravishment

+Possess'd me.  Yet I mark'd it was a hymn

+Of lofty praises; for there came to me

+"Arise and conquer," as to one who hears

+And comprehends not.  Me such ecstasy

+O'ercame, that never till that hour was thing

+That held me in so sweet imprisonment.

+

+Perhaps my saying over bold appears,

+Accounting less the pleasure of those eyes,

+Whereon to look fulfilleth all desire.

+But he, who is aware those living seals

+Of every beauty work with quicker force,

+The higher they are ris'n; and that there

+I had not turn'd me to them; he may well

+Excuse me that, whereof in my excuse

+I do accuse me, and may own my truth;

+That holy pleasure here not yet reveal'd,

+Which grows in transport as we mount aloof.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XV

+

+True love, that ever shows itself as clear

+In kindness, as loose appetite in wrong,

+Silenced that lyre harmonious, and still'd

+The sacred chords, that are by heav'n's right hand

+Unwound and tighten'd, flow to righteous prayers

+Should they not hearken, who, to give me will

+For praying, in accordance thus were mute?

+He hath in sooth good cause for endless grief,

+Who, for the love of thing that lasteth not,

+Despoils himself forever of that love.

+

+As oft along the still and pure serene,

+At nightfall, glides a sudden trail of fire,

+Attracting with involuntary heed

+The eye to follow it, erewhile at rest,

+And seems some star that shifted place in heav'n,

+Only that, whence it kindles, none is lost,

+And it is soon extinct; thus from the horn,

+That on the dexter of the cross extends,

+Down to its foot, one luminary ran

+From mid the cluster shone there; yet no gem

+Dropp'd from its foil; and through the beamy list

+Like flame in alabaster, glow'd its course.

+

+So forward stretch'd him (if of credence aught

+Our greater muse may claim) the pious ghost

+Of old Anchises, in the' Elysian bower,

+When he perceiv'd his son.  "O thou, my blood!

+O most exceeding grace divine! to whom,

+As now to thee, hath twice the heav'nly gate

+Been e'er unclos'd?" so spake the light; whence I

+Turn'd me toward him; then unto my dame

+My sight directed, and on either side

+Amazement waited me; for in her eyes

+Was lighted such a smile, I thought that mine

+Had div'd unto the bottom of my grace

+And of my bliss in Paradise.  Forthwith

+To hearing and to sight grateful alike,

+The spirit to his proem added things

+I understood not, so profound he spake;

+Yet not of choice but through necessity

+Mysterious; for his high conception scar'd

+Beyond the mark of mortals.  When the flight

+Of holy transport had so spent its rage,

+That nearer to the level of our thought

+The speech descended, the first sounds I heard

+Were, "Best he thou, Triunal Deity!

+That hast such favour in my seed vouchsaf'd!"

+Then follow'd: "No unpleasant thirst, tho' long,

+Which took me reading in the sacred book,

+Whose leaves or white or dusky never change,

+Thou hast allay'd, my son, within this light,

+From whence my voice thou hear'st; more thanks to her.

+Who for such lofty mounting has with plumes

+Begirt thee.  Thou dost deem thy thoughts to me

+From him transmitted, who is first of all,

+E'en as all numbers ray from unity;

+And therefore dost not ask me who I am,

+Or why to thee more joyous I appear,

+Than any other in this gladsome throng.

+The truth is as thou deem'st; for in this hue

+Both less and greater in that mirror look,

+In which thy thoughts, or ere thou think'st, are shown.

+But, that the love, which keeps me wakeful ever,

+Urging with sacred thirst of sweet desire,

+May be contended fully, let thy voice,

+Fearless, and frank and jocund, utter forth

+Thy will distinctly, utter forth the wish,

+Whereto my ready answer stands decreed."

+

+I turn'd me to Beatrice; and she heard

+Ere I had spoken, smiling, an assent,

+That to my will gave wings; and I began

+"To each among your tribe, what time ye kenn'd

+The nature, in whom naught unequal dwells,

+Wisdom and love were in one measure dealt;

+For that they are so equal in the sun,

+From whence ye drew your radiance and your heat,

+As makes all likeness scant.  But will and means,

+In mortals, for the cause ye well discern,

+With unlike wings are fledge.  A mortal I

+Experience inequality like this,

+And therefore give no thanks, but in the heart,

+For thy paternal greeting.  This howe'er

+I pray thee, living topaz! that ingemm'st

+This precious jewel, let me hear thy name."

+

+"I am thy root, O leaf! whom to expect

+Even, hath pleas'd me:" thus the prompt reply

+Prefacing, next it added; "he, of whom

+Thy kindred appellation comes, and who,

+These hundred years and more, on its first ledge

+Hath circuited the mountain, was my son

+And thy great grandsire.  Well befits, his long

+Endurance should be shorten'd by thy deeds.

+

+"Florence, within her ancient limit-mark,

+Which calls her still to matin prayers and noon,

+Was chaste and sober, and abode in peace.

+She had no armlets and no head-tires then,

+No purfled dames, no zone, that caught the eye

+More than the person did.  Time was not yet,

+When at his daughter's birth the sire grew pale.

+For fear the age and dowry should exceed

+On each side just proportion.  House was none

+Void of its family; nor yet had come

+Hardanapalus, to exhibit feats

+Of chamber prowess.  Montemalo yet

+O'er our suburban turret rose; as much

+To be surpass in fall, as in its rising.

+I saw Bellincione Berti walk abroad

+In leathern girdle and a clasp of bone;

+And, with no artful colouring on her cheeks,

+His lady leave the glass.  The sons I saw

+Of Nerli and of Vecchio well content

+With unrob'd jerkin; and their good dames handling

+The spindle and the flax; O happy they!

+Each sure of burial in her native land,

+And none left desolate a-bed for France!

+One wak'd to tend the cradle, hushing it

+With sounds that lull'd the parent's infancy:

+Another, with her maidens, drawing off

+The tresses from the distaff, lectur'd them

+Old tales of Troy and Fesole and Rome.

+A Salterello and Cianghella we

+Had held as strange a marvel, as ye would

+A Cincinnatus or Cornelia now.

+

+"In such compos'd and seemly fellowship,

+Such faithful and such fair equality,

+In so sweet household, Mary at my birth

+Bestow'd me, call'd on with loud cries; and there

+In your old baptistery, I was made

+Christian at once and Cacciaguida; as were

+My brethren, Eliseo and Moronto.

+

+"From Valdipado came to me my spouse,

+And hence thy surname grew.  I follow'd then

+The Emperor Conrad; and his knighthood he

+Did gird on me; in such good part he took

+My valiant service.  After him I went

+To testify against that evil law,

+Whose people, by the shepherd's fault, possess

+Your right, usurping.  There, by that foul crew

+Was I releas'd from the deceitful world,

+Whose base affection many a spirit soils,

+And from the martyrdom came to this peace."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVI

+

+O slight respect of man's nobility!

+I never shall account it marvelous,

+That our infirm affection here below

+Thou mov'st to boasting, when I could not choose,

+E'en in that region of unwarp'd desire,

+In heav'n itself, but make my vaunt in thee!

+Yet cloak thou art soon shorten'd, for that time,

+Unless thou be eked out from day to day,

+Goes round thee with his shears.  Resuming then

+With greeting such, as Rome, was first to bear,

+But since hath disaccustom'd I began;

+And Beatrice, that a little space

+Was sever'd, smil'd reminding me of her,

+Whose cough embolden'd (as the story holds)

+To first offence the doubting Guenever.

+

+"You are my sire," said I, "you give me heart

+Freely to speak my thought: above myself

+You raise me.  Through so many streams with joy

+My soul is fill'd, that gladness wells from it;

+So that it bears the mighty tide, and bursts not

+Say then, my honour'd stem! what ancestors

+Where those you sprang from, and what years were mark'd

+In your first childhood?  Tell me of the fold,

+That hath Saint John for guardian, what was then

+Its state, and who in it were highest seated?"

+

+As embers, at the breathing of the wind,

+Their flame enliven, so that light I saw

+Shine at my blandishments; and, as it grew

+More fair to look on, so with voice more sweet,

+Yet not in this our modern phrase, forthwith

+It answer'd: "From the day, when it was said

+'Hail Virgin!' to the throes, by which my mother,

+Who now is sainted, lighten'd her of me

+Whom she was heavy with, this fire had come,

+Five hundred fifty times and thrice, its beams

+To reilumine underneath the foot

+Of its own lion.  They, of whom I sprang,

+And I, had there our birth-place, where the last

+Partition of our city first is reach'd

+By him, that runs her annual game.  Thus much

+Suffice of my forefathers: who they were,

+And whence they hither came, more honourable

+It is to pass in silence than to tell.

+All those, who in that time were there from Mars

+Until the Baptist, fit to carry arms,

+Were but the fifth of them this day alive.

+But then the citizen's blood, that now is mix'd

+From Campi and Certaldo and Fighine,

+Ran purely through the last mechanic's veins.

+O how much better were it, that these people

+Were neighbours to you, and that at Galluzzo

+And at Trespiano, ye should have your bound'ry,

+Than to have them within, and bear the stench

+Of Aguglione's hind, and Signa's, him,

+That hath his eye already keen for bart'ring!

+Had not the people, which of all the world

+Degenerates most, been stepdame unto Caesar,

+But, as a mother, gracious to her son;

+Such one, as hath become a Florentine,

+And trades and traffics, had been turn'd adrift

+To Simifonte, where his grandsire ply'd

+The beggar's craft.  The Conti were possess'd

+Of Montemurlo still: the Cerchi still

+Were in Acone's parish; nor had haply

+From Valdigrieve past the Buondelmonte.

+The city's malady hath ever source

+In the confusion of its persons, as

+The body's, in variety of food:

+And the blind bull falls with a steeper plunge,

+Than the blind lamb; and oftentimes one sword

+Doth more and better execution,

+Than five.  Mark Luni, Urbisaglia mark,

+How they are gone, and after them how go

+Chiusi and Sinigaglia; and 't will seem

+No longer new or strange to thee to hear,

+That families fail, when cities have their end.

+All things, that appertain t' ye, like yourselves,

+Are mortal: but mortality in some

+Ye mark not, they endure so long, and you

+Pass by so suddenly.  And as the moon

+Doth, by the rolling of her heav'nly sphere,

+Hide and reveal the strand unceasingly;

+So fortune deals with Florence.  Hence admire not

+At what of them I tell thee, whose renown

+Time covers, the first Florentines.  I saw

+The Ughi, Catilini and Filippi,

+The Alberichi, Greci and Ormanni,

+Now in their wane, illustrious citizens:

+And great as ancient, of Sannella him,

+With him of Arca saw, and Soldanieri

+And Ardinghi, and Bostichi.  At the poop,

+That now is laden with new felony,

+So cumb'rous it may speedily sink the bark,

+The Ravignani sat, of whom is sprung

+The County Guido, and whoso hath since

+His title from the fam'd Bellincione ta'en.

+Fair governance was yet an art well priz'd

+By him of Pressa: Galigaio show'd

+The gilded hilt and pommel, in his house.

+The column, cloth'd with verrey, still was seen

+Unshaken: the Sacchetti still were great,

+Giouchi, Sifanti, Galli and Barucci,

+With them who blush to hear the bushel nam'd.

+Of the Calfucci still the branchy trunk

+Was in its strength: and to the curule chairs

+Sizii and Arigucci yet were drawn.

+How mighty them I saw, whom since their pride

+Hath undone! and in all her goodly deeds

+Florence was by the bullets of bright gold

+O'erflourish'd.  Such the sires of those, who now,

+As surely as your church is vacant, flock

+Into her consistory, and at leisure

+There stall them and grow fat.  The o'erweening brood,

+That plays the dragon after him that flees,

+But unto such, as turn and show the tooth,

+Ay or the purse, is gentle as a lamb,

+Was on its rise, but yet so slight esteem'd,

+That Ubertino of Donati grudg'd

+His father-in-law should yoke him to its tribe.

+Already Caponsacco had descended

+Into the mart from Fesole: and Giuda

+And Infangato were good citizens.

+A thing incredible I tell, tho' true:

+The gateway, named from those of Pera, led

+Into the narrow circuit of your walls.

+Each one, who bears the sightly quarterings

+Of the great Baron (he whose name and worth

+The festival of Thomas still revives)

+His knighthood and his privilege retain'd;

+Albeit one, who borders them With gold,

+This day is mingled with the common herd.

+In Borgo yet the Gualterotti dwelt,

+And Importuni: well for its repose

+Had it still lack'd of newer neighbourhood.

+The house, from whence your tears have had their spring,

+Through the just anger that hath murder'd ye

+And put a period to your gladsome days,

+Was honour'd, it, and those consorted with it.

+O Buondelmonte! what ill counseling

+Prevail'd on thee to break the plighted bond

+Many, who now are weeping, would rejoice,

+Had God to Ema giv'n thee, the first time

+Thou near our city cam'st.  But so was doom'd:

+On that maim'd stone set up to guard the bridge,

+At thy last peace, the victim, Florence! fell.

+With these and others like to them, I saw

+Florence in such assur'd tranquility,

+She had no cause at which to grieve: with these

+Saw her so glorious and so just, that ne'er

+The lily from the lance had hung reverse,

+Or through division been with vermeil dyed."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVII

+

+Such as the youth, who came to Clymene

+To certify himself of that reproach,

+Which had been fasten'd on him, (he whose end

+Still makes the fathers chary to their sons),

+E'en such was I; nor unobserv'd was such

+Of Beatrice, and that saintly lamp,

+Who had erewhile for me his station mov'd;

+When thus by lady: "Give thy wish free vent,

+That it may issue, bearing true report

+Of the mind's impress; not that aught thy words

+May to our knowledge add, but to the end,

+That thou mayst use thyself to own thy thirst

+And men may mingle for thee when they hear."

+

+"O plant! from whence I spring! rever'd and lov'd!

+Who soar'st so high a pitch, thou seest as clear,

+As earthly thought determines two obtuse

+In one triangle not contain'd, so clear

+Dost see contingencies, ere in themselves

+Existent, looking at the point whereto

+All times are present, I, the whilst I scal'd

+With Virgil the soul purifying mount,

+And visited the nether world of woe,

+Touching my future destiny have heard

+Words grievous, though I feel me on all sides

+Well squar'd to fortune's blows.  Therefore my will

+Were satisfied to know the lot awaits me,

+The arrow, seen beforehand, slacks its flight."

+

+So said I to the brightness, which erewhile

+To me had spoken, and my will declar'd,

+As Beatrice will'd, explicitly.

+Nor with oracular response obscure,

+Such, as or ere the Lamb of God was slain,

+Beguil'd the credulous nations; but, in terms

+Precise and unambiguous lore, replied

+The spirit of paternal love, enshrin'd,

+Yet in his smile apparent; and thus spake:

+"Contingency, unfolded not to view

+Upon the tablet of your mortal mold,

+Is all depictur'd in the' eternal sight;

+But hence deriveth not necessity,

+More then the tall ship, hurried down the flood,

+Doth from the vision, that reflects the scene.

+From thence, as to the ear sweet harmony

+From organ comes, so comes before mine eye

+The time prepar'd for thee.  Such as driv'n out

+From Athens, by his cruel stepdame's wiles,

+Hippolytus departed, such must thou

+Depart from Florence.  This they wish, and this

+Contrive, and will ere long effectuate, there,

+Where gainful merchandize is made of Christ,

+Throughout the livelong day.  The common cry,

+Will, as 't is ever wont, affix the blame

+Unto the party injur'd: but the truth

+Shall, in the vengeance it dispenseth, find

+A faithful witness.  Thou shall leave each thing

+Belov'd most dearly: this is the first shaft

+Shot from the bow of exile.  Thou shalt prove

+How salt the savour is of other's bread,

+How hard the passage to descend and climb

+By other's stairs, But that shall gall thee most

+Will be the worthless and vile company,

+With whom thou must be thrown into these straits.

+For all ungrateful, impious all and mad,

+Shall turn 'gainst thee: but in a little while

+Theirs and not thine shall be the crimson'd brow

+Their course shall so evince their brutishness

+T' have ta'en thy stand apart shall well become thee.

+

+"First refuge thou must find, first place of rest,

+In the great Lombard's courtesy, who bears

+Upon the ladder perch'd the sacred bird.

+He shall behold thee with such kind regard,

+That 'twixt ye two, the contrary to that

+Which falls 'twixt other men, the granting shall

+Forerun the asking.  With him shalt thou see

+That mortal, who was at his birth impress

+So strongly from this star, that of his deeds

+The nations shall take note.  His unripe age

+Yet holds him from observance; for these wheels

+Only nine years have compass him about.

+But, ere the Gascon practice on great Harry,

+Sparkles of virtue shall shoot forth in him,

+In equal scorn of labours and of gold.

+His bounty shall be spread abroad so widely,

+As not to let the tongues e'en of his foes

+Be idle in its praise.  Look thou to him

+And his beneficence: for he shall cause

+Reversal of their lot to many people,

+Rich men and beggars interchanging fortunes.

+And thou shalt bear this written in thy soul

+Of him, but tell it not;" and things he told

+Incredible to those who witness them;

+Then added: "So interpret thou, my son,

+What hath been told thee.--Lo! the ambushment

+That a few circling seasons hide for thee!

+Yet envy not thy neighbours: time extends

+Thy span beyond their treason's chastisement."

+

+Soon, as the saintly spirit, by his silence,

+Had shown the web, which I had streteh'd for him

+Upon the warp, was woven, I began,

+As one, who in perplexity desires

+Counsel of other, wise, benign and friendly:

+"My father! well I mark how time spurs on

+Toward me, ready to inflict the blow,

+Which falls most heavily on him, who most

+Abandoned himself.  Therefore 't is good

+I should forecast, that driven from the place

+Most dear to me, I may not lose myself

+All others by my song.  Down through the world

+Of infinite mourning, and along the mount

+From whose fair height my lady's eyes did lift me,

+And after through this heav'n from light to light,

+Have I learnt that, which if I tell again,

+It may with many woefully disrelish;

+And, if I am a timid friend to truth,

+I fear my life may perish among those,

+To whom these days shall be of ancient date."

+

+The brightness, where enclos'd the treasure smil'd,

+Which I had found there, first shone glisteningly,

+Like to a golden mirror in the sun;

+Next answer'd: "Conscience, dimm'd or by its own

+Or other's shame, will feel thy saying sharp.

+Thou, notwithstanding, all deceit remov'd,

+See the whole vision be made manifest.

+And let them wince who have their withers wrung.

+What though, when tasted first, thy voice shall prove

+Unwelcome, on digestion it will turn

+To vital nourishment.  The cry thou raisest,

+Shall, as the wind doth, smite the proudest summits;

+Which is of honour no light argument,

+For this there only have been shown to thee,

+Throughout these orbs, the mountain, and the deep,

+Spirits, whom fame hath note of.  For the mind

+Of him, who hears, is loth to acquiesce

+And fix its faith, unless the instance brought

+Be palpable, and proof apparent urge."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVIII

+

+CANTO XVIII

+

+Now in his word, sole, ruminating, joy'd

+That blessed spirit; and I fed on mine,

+Tempting the sweet with bitter: she meanwhile,

+Who led me unto God, admonish'd: "Muse

+On other thoughts: bethink thee, that near Him

+I dwell, who recompenseth every wrong."

+

+At the sweet sounds of comfort straight I turn'd;

+And, in the saintly eyes what love was seen,

+I leave in silence here: nor through distrust

+Of my words only, but that to such bliss

+The mind remounts not without aid.  Thus much

+Yet may I speak; that, as I gaz'd on her,

+Affection found no room for other wish.

+While the everlasting pleasure, that did full

+On Beatrice shine, with second view

+From her fair countenance my gladden'd soul

+Contented; vanquishing me with a beam

+Of her soft smile, she spake: "Turn thee, and list.

+These eyes are not thy only Paradise."

+

+As here we sometimes in the looks may see

+Th' affection mark'd, when that its sway hath ta'en

+The spirit wholly; thus the hallow'd light,

+To whom I turn'd, flashing, bewray'd its will

+To talk yet further with me, and began:

+"On this fifth lodgment of the tree, whose life

+Is from its top, whose fruit is ever fair

+And leaf unwith'ring, blessed spirits abide,

+That were below, ere they arriv'd in heav'n,

+So mighty in renown, as every muse

+Might grace her triumph with them.  On the horns

+Look therefore of the cross: he, whom I name,

+Shall there enact, as doth in summer cloud

+Its nimble fire."  Along the cross I saw,

+At the repeated name of Joshua,

+A splendour gliding; nor, the word was said,

+Ere it was done: then, at the naming saw

+Of the great Maccabee, another move

+With whirling speed; and gladness was the scourge

+Unto that top.  The next for Charlemagne

+And for the peer Orlando, two my gaze

+Pursued, intently, as the eye pursues

+A falcon flying.  Last, along the cross,

+William, and Renard, and Duke Godfrey drew

+My ken, and Robert Guiscard.  And the soul,

+Who spake with me among the other lights

+Did move away, and mix; and with the choir

+Of heav'nly songsters prov'd his tuneful skill.

+

+To Beatrice on my right l bent,

+Looking for intimation or by word

+Or act, what next behoov'd; and did descry

+Such mere effulgence in her eyes, such joy,

+It past all former wont.  And, as by sense

+Of new delight, the man, who perseveres

+In good deeds doth perceive from day to day

+His virtue growing; I e'en thus perceiv'd

+Of my ascent, together with the heav'n

+The circuit widen'd, noting the increase

+Of beauty in that wonder.  Like the change

+In a brief moment on some maiden's cheek,

+Which from its fairness doth discharge the weight

+Of pudency, that stain'd it; such in her,

+And to mine eyes so sudden was the change,

+Through silvery whiteness of that temperate star,

+Whose sixth orb now enfolded us.  I saw,

+Within that Jovial cresset, the clear sparks

+Of love, that reign'd there, fashion to my view

+Our language.  And as birds, from river banks

+Arisen, now in round, now lengthen'd troop,

+Array them in their flight, greeting, as seems,

+Their new-found pastures; so, within the lights,

+The saintly creatures flying, sang, and made

+Now D. now I. now L. figur'd I' th' air.

+

+First, singing, to their notes they mov'd, then one

+Becoming of these signs, a little while

+Did rest them, and were mute.  O nymph divine

+Of Pegasean race! whose souls, which thou

+Inspir'st, mak'st glorious and long-liv'd, as they

+Cities and realms by thee! thou with thyself

+Inform me; that I may set forth the shapes,

+As fancy doth present them.  Be thy power

+Display'd in this brief song.  The characters,

+Vocal and consonant, were five-fold seven.

+In order each, as they appear'd, I mark'd.

+Diligite Justitiam, the first,

+Both verb and noun all blazon'd; and the extreme

+Qui judicatis terram.  In the M.

+Of the fifth word they held their station,

+Making the star seem silver streak'd with gold.

+And on the summit of the M. I saw

+Descending other lights, that rested there,

+Singing, methinks, their bliss and primal good.

+Then, as at shaking of a lighted brand,

+Sparkles innumerable on all sides

+Rise scatter'd, source of augury to th' unwise;

+Thus more than thousand twinkling lustres hence

+Seem'd reascending, and a higher pitch

+Some mounting, and some less; e'en as the sun,

+Which kindleth them, decreed.  And when each one

+Had settled in his place, the head and neck

+Then saw I of an eagle, lively

+Grav'd in that streaky fire.  Who painteth there,

+Hath none to guide him; of himself he guides;

+And every line and texture of the nest

+Doth own from him the virtue, fashions it.

+The other bright beatitude, that seem'd

+Erewhile, with lilied crowning, well content

+To over-canopy the M. mov'd forth,

+Following gently the impress of the bird.

+

+ Sweet star! what glorious and thick-studded gems

+Declar'd to me our justice on the earth

+To be the effluence of that heav'n, which thou,

+Thyself a costly jewel, dost inlay!

+Therefore I pray the Sovran Mind, from whom

+Thy motion and thy virtue are begun,

+That he would look from whence the fog doth rise,

+To vitiate thy beam: so that once more

+He may put forth his hand 'gainst such, as drive

+Their traffic in that sanctuary, whose walls

+With miracles and martyrdoms were built.

+

+Ye host of heaven! whose glory I survey!

+O beg ye grace for those, that are on earth

+All after ill example gone astray.

+War once had for its instrument the sword:

+But now 't is made, taking the bread away

+Which the good Father locks from none.  --And thou,

+That writes but to cancel, think, that they,

+Who for the vineyard, which thou wastest, died,

+Peter and Paul live yet, and mark thy doings.

+Thou hast good cause to cry, "My heart so cleaves

+To him, that liv'd in solitude remote,

+And from the wilds was dragg'd to martyrdom,

+I wist not of the fisherman nor Paul."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIX

+

+Before my sight appear'd, with open wings,

+The beauteous image, in fruition sweet

+Gladdening the thronged spirits.  Each did seem

+A little ruby, whereon so intense

+The sun-beam glow'd that to mine eyes it came

+In clear refraction.  And that, which next

+Befalls me to portray, voice hath not utter'd,

+Nor hath ink written, nor in fantasy

+Was e'er conceiv'd.  For I beheld and heard

+The beak discourse; and, what intention form'd

+Of many, singly as of one express,

+Beginning: "For that I was just and piteous,

+l am exalted to this height of glory,

+The which no wish exceeds: and there on earth

+Have I my memory left, e'en by the bad

+Commended, while they leave its course untrod."

+

+Thus is one heat from many embers felt,

+As in that image many were the loves,

+And one the voice, that issued from them all.

+Whence I address them: "O perennial flowers

+Of gladness everlasting! that exhale

+In single breath your odours manifold!

+Breathe now; and let the hunger be appeas'd,

+That with great craving long hath held my soul,

+Finding no food on earth.  This well I know,

+That if there be in heav'n a realm, that shows

+In faithful mirror the celestial Justice,

+Yours without veil reflects it.  Ye discern

+The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself

+To hearken; ye the doubt that urges me

+With such inveterate craving."  Straight I saw,

+Like to a falcon issuing from the hood,

+That rears his head, and claps him with his wings,

+His beauty and his eagerness bewraying.

+So saw I move that stately sign, with praise

+Of grace divine inwoven and high song

+Of inexpressive joy.  "He," it began,

+"Who turn'd his compass on the world's extreme,

+And in that space so variously hath wrought,

+Both openly, and in secret, in such wise

+Could not through all the universe display

+Impression of his glory, that the Word

+Of his omniscience should not still remain

+In infinite excess.  In proof whereof,

+He first through pride supplanted, who was sum

+Of each created being, waited not

+For light celestial, and abortive fell.

+Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant

+Receptacle unto that Good, which knows

+No limit, measur'd by itself alone.

+Therefore your sight, of th' omnipresent Mind

+A single beam, its origin must own

+Surpassing far its utmost potency.

+The ken, your world is gifted with, descends

+In th' everlasting Justice as low down,

+As eye doth in the sea; which though it mark

+The bottom from the shore, in the wide main

+Discerns it not; and ne'ertheless it is,

+But hidden through its deepness.  Light is none,

+Save that which cometh from the pure serene

+Of ne'er disturbed ether: for the rest,

+'Tis darkness all, or shadow of the flesh,

+Or else its poison.  Here confess reveal'd

+That covert, which hath hidden from thy search

+The living justice, of the which thou mad'st

+Such frequent question; for thou saidst--'A man

+Is born on Indus' banks, and none is there

+Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write,

+And all his inclinations and his acts,

+As far as human reason sees, are good,

+And he offendeth not in word or deed.

+But unbaptiz'd he dies, and void of faith.

+Where is the justice that condemns him?  where

+His blame, if he believeth not?'--What then,

+And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit

+To judge at distance of a thousand miles

+With the short-sighted vision of a span?

+To him, who subtilizes thus with me,

+There would assuredly be room for doubt

+Even to wonder, did not the safe word

+Of scripture hold supreme authority.

+

+"O animals of clay!  O spirits gross I

+The primal will, that in itself is good,

+Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne'er been mov'd.

+Justice consists in consonance with it,

+Derivable by no created good,

+Whose very cause depends upon its beam."

+

+As on her nest the stork, that turns about

+Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed,

+While they with upward eyes do look on her;

+So lifted I my gaze; and bending so

+The ever-blessed image wav'd its wings,

+Lab'ring with such deep counsel.  Wheeling round

+It warbled, and did say: "As are my notes

+To thee, who understand'st them not, such is

+Th' eternal judgment unto mortal ken."

+

+Then still abiding in that ensign rang'd,

+Wherewith the Romans over-awed the world,

+Those burning splendours of the Holy Spirit

+Took up the strain; and thus it spake again:

+"None ever hath ascended to this realm,

+Who hath not a believer been in Christ,

+Either before or after the blest limbs

+Were nail'd upon the wood.  But lo! of those

+Who call 'Christ, Christ,' there shall be many found,

+ In judgment, further off from him by far,

+Than such, to whom his name was never known.

+Christians like these the Ethiop shall condemn:

+When that the two assemblages shall part;

+One rich eternally, the other poor.

+

+"What may the Persians say unto your kings,

+When they shall see that volume, in the which

+All their dispraise is written, spread to view?

+There amidst Albert's works shall that be read,

+Which will give speedy motion to the pen,

+When Prague shall mourn her desolated realm.

+There shall be read the woe, that he doth work

+With his adulterate money on the Seine,

+Who by the tusk will perish: there be read

+The thirsting pride, that maketh fool alike

+The English and Scot, impatient of their bound.

+There shall be seen the Spaniard's luxury,

+The delicate living there of the Bohemian,

+Who still to worth has been a willing stranger.

+The halter of Jerusalem shall see

+A unit for his virtue, for his vices

+No less a mark than million.  He, who guards

+The isle of fire by old Anchises honour'd

+Shall find his avarice there and cowardice;

+And better to denote his littleness,

+The writing must be letters maim'd, that speak

+Much in a narrow space.  All there shall know

+His uncle and his brother's filthy doings,

+Who so renown'd a nation and two crowns

+Have bastardized.  And they, of Portugal

+And Norway, there shall be expos'd with him

+Of Ratza, who hath counterfeited ill

+The coin of Venice.  O blest Hungary!

+If thou no longer patiently abid'st

+Thy ill-entreating! and, O blest Navarre!

+If with thy mountainous girdle thou wouldst arm thee

+In earnest of that day, e'en now are heard

+Wailings and groans in Famagosta's streets

+And Nicosia's, grudging at their beast,

+Who keepeth even footing with the rest."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XX

+

+When, disappearing, from our hemisphere,

+The world's enlightener vanishes, and day

+On all sides wasteth, suddenly the sky,

+Erewhile irradiate only with his beam,

+Is yet again unfolded, putting forth

+Innumerable lights wherein one shines.

+Of such vicissitude in heaven I thought,

+As the great sign, that marshaleth the world

+And the world's leaders, in the blessed beak

+Was silent; for that all those living lights,

+Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs,

+Such as from memory glide and fall away.

+

+Sweet love! that dost apparel thee in smiles,

+How lustrous was thy semblance in those sparkles,

+Which merely are from holy thoughts inspir'd!

+

+After the precious and bright beaming stones,

+That did ingem the sixth light, ceas'd the chiming

+Of their angelic bells; methought I heard

+The murmuring of a river, that doth fall

+From rock to rock transpicuous, making known

+The richness of his spring-head: and as sound

+Of cistern, at the fret-board, or of pipe,

+Is, at the wind-hole, modulate and tun'd;

+Thus up the neck, as it were hollow, rose

+That murmuring of the eagle, and forthwith

+Voice there assum'd, and thence along the beak

+Issued in form of words, such as my heart

+Did look for, on whose tables I inscrib'd them.

+

+"The part in me, that sees, and bears the sun,,

+In mortal eagles," it began, "must now

+Be noted steadfastly: for of the fires,

+That figure me, those, glittering in mine eye,

+Are chief of all the greatest.  This, that shines

+Midmost for pupil, was the same, who sang

+The Holy Spirit's song, and bare about

+The ark from town to town; now doth he know

+The merit of his soul-impassion'd strains

+By their well-fitted guerdon.  Of the five,

+That make the circle of the vision, he

+Who to the beak is nearest, comforted

+The widow for her son: now doth he know

+How dear he costeth not to follow Christ,

+Both from experience of this pleasant life,

+And of its opposite.  He next, who follows

+In the circumference, for the over arch,

+By true repenting slack'd the pace of death:

+Now knoweth he, that the degrees of heav'n

+Alter not, when through pious prayer below

+Today's is made tomorrow's destiny.

+The other following, with the laws and me,

+To yield the shepherd room, pass'd o'er to Greece,

+From good intent producing evil fruit:

+Now knoweth he, how all the ill, deriv'd

+From his well doing, doth not helm him aught,

+Though it have brought destruction on the world.

+That, which thou seest in the under bow,

+Was William, whom that land bewails, which weeps

+For Charles and Frederick living: now he knows

+How well is lov'd in heav'n the righteous king,

+Which he betokens by his radiant seeming.

+Who in the erring world beneath would deem,

+That Trojan Ripheus in this round was set

+Fifth of the saintly splendours?  now he knows

+Enough of that, which the world cannot see,

+The grace divine, albeit e'en his sight

+Reach not its utmost depth."  Like to the lark,

+That warbling in the air expatiates long,

+Then, trilling out his last sweet melody,

+Drops satiate with the sweetness; such appear'd

+That image stampt by the' everlasting pleasure,

+Which fashions like itself all lovely things.

+

+I, though my doubting were as manifest,

+As is through glass the hue that mantles it,

+In silence waited not: for to my lips

+"What things are these?"  involuntary rush'd,

+And forc'd a passage out: whereat I mark'd

+A sudden lightening and new revelry.

+The eye was kindled: and the blessed sign

+No more to keep me wond'ring and suspense,

+Replied: "I see that thou believ'st these things,

+Because I tell them, but discern'st not how;

+So that thy knowledge waits not on thy faith:

+As one who knows the name of thing by rote,

+But is a stranger to its properties,

+Till other's tongue reveal them.  Fervent love

+And lively hope with violence assail

+The kingdom of the heavens, and overcome

+The will of the Most high; not in such sort

+As man prevails o'er man; but conquers it,

+Because 't is willing to be conquer'd, still,

+Though conquer'd, by its mercy conquering.

+

+"Those, in the eye who live the first and fifth,

+Cause thee to marvel, in that thou behold'st

+The region of the angels deck'd with them.

+They quitted not their bodies, as thou deem'st,

+Gentiles but Christians, in firm rooted faith,

+This of the feet in future to be pierc'd,

+That of feet nail'd already to the cross.

+One from the barrier of the dark abyss,

+Where never any with good will returns,

+Came back unto his bones.  Of lively hope

+Such was the meed; of lively hope, that wing'd

+The prayers sent up to God for his release,

+And put power into them to bend his will.

+The glorious Spirit, of whom I speak to thee,

+A little while returning to the flesh,

+Believ'd in him, who had the means to help,

+And, in believing, nourish'd such a flame

+Of holy love, that at the second death

+He was made sharer in our gamesome mirth.

+The other, through the riches of that grace,

+Which from so deep a fountain doth distil,

+As never eye created saw its rising,

+Plac'd all his love below on just and right:

+Wherefore of grace God op'd in him the eye

+To the redemption of mankind to come;

+Wherein believing, he endur'd no more

+The filth of paganism, and for their ways

+Rebuk'd the stubborn nations.  The three nymphs,

+Whom at the right wheel thou beheldst advancing,

+Were sponsors for him more than thousand years

+Before baptizing.  O how far remov'd,

+Predestination! is thy root from such

+As see not the First cause entire: and ye,

+O mortal men! be wary how ye judge:

+For we, who see our Maker, know not yet

+The number of the chosen: and esteem

+Such scantiness of knowledge our delight:

+For all our good is in that primal good

+Concentrate, and God's will and ours are one."

+

+So, by that form divine, was giv'n to me

+Sweet medicine to clear and strengthen sight,

+And, as one handling skillfully the harp,

+Attendant on some skilful songster's voice

+Bids the chords vibrate, and therein the song

+Acquires more pleasure; so, the whilst it spake,

+It doth remember me, that I beheld

+The pair of blessed luminaries move.

+Like the accordant twinkling of two eyes,

+Their beamy circlets, dancing to the sounds.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXI

+

+Again mine eyes were fix'd on Beatrice,

+And with mine eyes my soul, that in her looks

+Found all contentment.  Yet no smile she wore

+And, "Did I smile," quoth she, "thou wouldst be straight

+Like Semele when into ashes turn'd:

+For, mounting these eternal palace-stairs,

+My beauty, which the loftier it climbs,

+As thou hast noted, still doth kindle more,

+So shines, that, were no temp'ring interpos'd,

+Thy mortal puissance would from its rays

+Shrink, as the leaf doth from the thunderbolt.

+Into the seventh splendour are we wafted,

+That underneath the burning lion's breast

+Beams, in this hour, commingled with his might,

+Thy mind be with thine eyes: and in them mirror'd

+The shape, which in this mirror shall be shown."

+Whoso can deem, how fondly I had fed

+My sight upon her blissful countenance,

+May know, when to new thoughts I chang'd, what joy

+To do the bidding of my heav'nly guide:

+In equal balance poising either weight.

+

+Within the crystal, which records the name,

+(As its remoter circle girds the world)

+Of that lov'd monarch, in whose happy reign

+No ill had power to harm, I saw rear'd up,

+In colour like to sun-illumin'd gold.

+

+A ladder, which my ken pursued in vain,

+So lofty was the summit; down whose steps

+I saw the splendours in such multitude

+Descending, ev'ry light in heav'n, methought,

+Was shed thence.  As the rooks, at dawn of day

+Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill,

+Some speed their way a-field, and homeward some,

+Returning, cross their flight, while some abide

+And wheel around their airy lodge; so seem'd

+That glitterance, wafted on alternate wing,

+As upon certain stair it met, and clash'd

+Its shining. And one ling'ring near us, wax'd

+So bright, that in my thought: said: "The love,

+Which this betokens me, admits no doubt."

+

+Unwillingly from question I refrain,

+To her, by whom my silence and my speech

+Are order'd, looking for a sign: whence she,

+Who in the sight of Him, that seeth all,

+Saw wherefore I was silent, prompted me

+T' indulge the fervent wish; and I began:

+"I am not worthy, of my own desert,

+That thou shouldst answer me; but for her sake,

+Who hath vouchsaf'd my asking, spirit blest!

+That in thy joy art shrouded! say the cause,

+Which bringeth thee so near: and wherefore, say,

+Doth the sweet symphony of Paradise

+Keep silence here, pervading with such sounds

+Of rapt devotion ev'ry lower sphere?"

+"Mortal art thou in hearing as in sight;"

+Was the reply: "and what forbade the smile

+Of Beatrice interrupts our song.

+Only to yield thee gladness of my voice,

+And of the light that vests me, I thus far

+Descend these hallow'd steps: not that more love

+Invites me; for lo! there aloft, as much

+Or more of love is witness'd in those flames:

+But such my lot by charity assign'd,

+That makes us ready servants, as thou seest,

+To execute the counsel of the Highest."

+"That in this court," said I, "O sacred lamp!

+Love no compulsion needs, but follows free

+Th' eternal Providence, I well discern:

+This harder find to deem, why of thy peers

+Thou only to this office wert foredoom'd."

+I had not ended, when, like rapid mill,

+Upon its centre whirl'd the light; and then

+The love, that did inhabit there, replied:

+"Splendour eternal, piercing through these folds,

+Its virtue to my vision knits, and thus

+Supported, lifts me so above myself,

+That on the sov'ran essence, which it wells from,

+I have the power to gaze: and hence the joy,

+Wherewith I sparkle, equaling with my blaze

+The keenness of my sight.  But not the soul,

+That is in heav'n most lustrous, nor the seraph

+That hath his eyes most fix'd on God, shall solve

+What thou hast ask'd: for in th' abyss it lies

+Of th' everlasting statute sunk so low,

+That no created ken may fathom it.

+And, to the mortal world when thou return'st,

+Be this reported; that none henceforth dare

+Direct his footsteps to so dread a bourn.

+The mind, that here is radiant, on the earth

+Is wrapt in mist.  Look then if she may do,

+Below, what passeth her ability,

+When she is ta'en to heav'n."  By words like these

+Admonish'd, I the question urg'd no more;

+And of the spirit humbly sued alone

+T' instruct me of its state.  "'Twixt either shore

+Of Italy, nor distant from thy land,

+A stony ridge ariseth, in such sort,

+The thunder doth not lift his voice so high,

+They call it Catria: at whose foot a cell

+Is sacred to the lonely Eremite,

+For worship set apart and holy rites."

+A third time thus it spake; then added: "There

+So firmly to God's service I adher'd,

+That with no costlier viands than the juice

+Of olives, easily I pass'd the heats

+Of summer and the winter frosts, content

+In heav'n-ward musings.  Rich were the returns

+And fertile, which that cloister once was us'd

+To render to these heavens: now 't is fall'n

+Into a waste so empty, that ere long

+Detection must lay bare its vanity

+Pietro Damiano there was I yclept:

+Pietro the sinner, when before I dwelt

+Beside the Adriatic, in the house

+Of our blest Lady.  Near upon my close

+Of mortal life, through much importuning

+I was constrain'd to wear the hat that still

+From bad to worse it shifted.--Cephas came;

+He came, who was the Holy Spirit's vessel,

+Barefoot and lean, eating their bread, as chanc'd,

+At the first table.  Modern Shepherd's need

+Those who on either hand may prop and lead them,

+So burly are they grown: and from behind

+Others to hoist them.  Down the palfrey's sides

+Spread their broad mantles, so as both the beasts

+Are cover'd with one skin.  O patience! thou

+That lookst on this and doth endure so long."

+I at those accents saw the splendours down

+From step to step alight, and wheel, and wax,

+Each circuiting, more beautiful.  Round this

+They came, and stay'd them; uttered them a shout

+So loud, it hath no likeness here: nor I

+Wist what it spake, so deaf'ning was the thunder.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXII

+

+Astounded, to the guardian of my steps

+I turn'd me, like the chill, who always runs

+Thither for succour, where he trusteth most,

+And she was like the mother, who her son

+Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice

+Soothes him, and he is cheer'd; for thus she spake,

+Soothing me: "Know'st not thou, thou art in heav'n?

+And know'st not thou, whatever is in heav'n,

+Is holy, and that nothing there is done

+But is done zealously and well?  Deem now,

+What change in thee the song, and what my smile

+had wrought, since thus the shout had pow'r to move thee.

+In which couldst thou have understood their prayers,

+The vengeance were already known to thee,

+Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour,

+The sword of heav'n is not in haste to smite,

+Nor yet doth linger, save unto his seeming,

+Who in desire or fear doth look for it.

+But elsewhere now l bid thee turn thy view;

+So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold."

+Mine eyes directing, as she will'd, I saw

+A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew

+By interchange of splendour.  I remain'd,

+As one, who fearful of o'er-much presuming,

+Abates in him the keenness of desire,

+Nor dares to question, when amid those pearls,

+One largest and most lustrous onward drew,

+That it might yield contentment to my wish;

+And from within it these the sounds I heard.

+

+"If thou, like me, beheldst the charity

+That burns amongst us, what thy mind conceives,

+Were utter'd.  But that, ere the lofty bound

+Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee,

+I will make answer even to the thought,

+Which thou hast such respect of.  In old days,

+That mountain, at whose side Cassino rests,

+Was on its height frequented by a race

+Deceived and ill dispos'd: and I it was,

+Who thither carried first the name of Him,

+Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man.

+And such a speeding grace shone over me,

+That from their impious worship I reclaim'd

+The dwellers round about, who with the world

+Were in delusion lost.  These other flames,

+The spirits of men contemplative, were all

+Enliven'd by that warmth, whose kindly force

+Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness.

+Here is Macarius; Romoaldo here:

+And here my brethren, who their steps refrain'd

+Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart."

+

+I answ'ring, thus; "Thy gentle words and kind,

+And this the cheerful semblance, I behold

+Not unobservant, beaming in ye all,

+Have rais'd assurance in me, wakening it

+Full-blossom'd in my bosom, as a rose

+Before the sun, when the consummate flower

+Has spread to utmost amplitude.  Of thee

+Therefore entreat I, father! to declare

+If I may gain such favour, as to gaze

+Upon thine image, by no covering veil'd."

+

+"Brother!"  he thus rejoin'd, "in the last sphere

+Expect completion of thy lofty aim,

+For there on each desire completion waits,

+And there on mine: where every aim is found

+Perfect, entire, and for fulfillment ripe.

+There all things are as they have ever been:

+For space is none to bound, nor pole divides,

+Our ladder reaches even to that clime,

+And so at giddy distance mocks thy view.

+Thither the Patriarch Jacob saw it stretch

+Its topmost round, when it appear'd to him

+With angels laden.  But to mount it now

+None lifts his foot from earth: and hence my rule

+Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves;

+The walls, for abbey rear'd, turned into dens,

+The cowls to sacks choak'd up with musty meal.

+Foul usury doth not more lift itself

+Against God's pleasure, than that fruit which makes

+The hearts of monks so wanton: for whate'er

+Is in the church's keeping, all pertains.

+To such, as sue for heav'n's sweet sake, and not

+To those who in respect of kindred claim,

+Or on more vile allowance.  Mortal flesh

+Is grown so dainty, good beginnings last not

+From the oak's birth, unto the acorn's setting.

+His convent Peter founded without gold

+Or silver; I with pray'rs and fasting mine;

+And Francis his in meek humility.

+And if thou note the point, whence each proceeds,

+Then look what it hath err'd to, thou shalt find

+The white grown murky.  Jordan was turn'd back;

+And a less wonder, then the refluent sea,

+May at God's pleasure work amendment here."

+

+So saying, to his assembly back he drew:

+And they together cluster'd into one,

+Then all roll'd upward like an eddying wind.

+

+The sweet dame beckon'd me to follow them:

+And, by that influence only, so prevail'd

+Over my nature, that no natural motion,

+Ascending or descending here below,

+Had, as I mounted, with my pennon vied.

+

+So, reader, as my hope is to return

+Unto the holy triumph, for the which

+I ofttimes wail my sins, and smite my breast,

+Thou hadst been longer drawing out and thrusting

+Thy finger in the fire, than I was, ere

+The sign, that followeth Taurus, I beheld,

+And enter'd its precinct.  O glorious stars!

+O light impregnate with exceeding virtue!

+To whom whate'er of genius lifteth me

+Above the vulgar, grateful I refer;

+With ye the parent of all mortal life

+Arose and set, when I did first inhale

+The Tuscan air; and afterward, when grace

+Vouchsaf'd me entrance to the lofty wheel

+That in its orb impels ye, fate decreed

+My passage at your clime.  To you my soul

+Devoutly sighs, for virtue even now

+To meet the hard emprize that draws me on.

+

+"Thou art so near the sum of blessedness,"

+Said Beatrice, "that behooves thy ken

+Be vigilant and clear.  And, to this end,

+Or even thou advance thee further, hence

+Look downward, and contemplate, what a world

+Already stretched under our feet there lies:

+So as thy heart may, in its blithest mood,

+Present itself to the triumphal throng,

+Which through the' etherial concave comes rejoicing."

+

+I straight obey'd; and with mine eye return'd

+Through all the seven spheres, and saw this globe

+So pitiful of semblance, that perforce

+It moved my smiles: and him in truth I hold

+For wisest, who esteems it least: whose thoughts

+Elsewhere are fix'd, him worthiest call and best.

+I saw the daughter of Latona shine

+Without the shadow, whereof late I deem'd

+That dense and rare were cause.  Here I sustain'd

+The visage, Hyperion! of thy sun;

+And mark'd, how near him with their circle, round

+Move Maia and Dione; here discern'd

+Jove's tempering 'twixt his sire and son; and hence

+Their changes and their various aspects

+Distinctly scann'd.  Nor might I not descry

+Of all the seven, how bulky each, how swift;

+Nor of their several distances not learn.

+This petty area (o'er the which we stride

+So fiercely), as along the eternal twins

+I wound my way, appear'd before me all,

+Forth from the havens stretch'd unto the hills.

+Then to the beauteous eyes mine eyes return'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIII

+

+E'en as the bird, who midst the leafy bower

+Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night,

+With her sweet brood, impatient to descry

+Their wished looks, and to bring home their food,

+In the fond quest unconscious of her toil:

+She, of the time prevenient, on the spray,

+That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze

+Expects the sun; nor ever, till the dawn,

+Removeth from the east her eager ken;

+So stood the dame erect, and bent her glance

+Wistfully on that region, where the sun

+Abateth most his speed; that, seeing her

+Suspense and wand'ring, I became as one,

+In whom desire is waken'd, and the hope

+Of somewhat new to come fills with delight.

+

+Short space ensued; I was not held, I say,

+Long in expectance, when I saw the heav'n

+Wax more and more resplendent; and, "Behold,"

+Cried Beatrice, "the triumphal hosts

+Of Christ, and all the harvest reap'd at length

+Of thy ascending up these spheres."  Meseem'd,

+That, while she spake her image all did burn,

+And in her eyes such fullness was of joy,

+And I am fain to pass unconstrued by.

+

+As in the calm full moon, when Trivia smiles,

+In peerless beauty, 'mid th' eternal nympus,

+That paint through all its gulfs the blue profound

+In bright pre-eminence so saw I there,

+O'er million lamps a sun, from whom all drew

+Their radiance as from ours the starry train:

+And through the living light so lustrous glow'd

+The substance, that my ken endur'd it not.

+

+O Beatrice! sweet and precious guide!

+Who cheer'd me with her comfortable words!

+"Against the virtue, that o'erpow'reth thee,

+Avails not to resist.  Here is the might,

+And here the wisdom, which did open lay

+The path, that had been yearned for so long,

+Betwixt the heav'n and earth."  Like to the fire,

+That, in a cloud imprison'd doth break out

+Expansive, so that from its womb enlarg'd,

+It falleth against nature to the ground;

+Thus in that heav'nly banqueting my soul

+Outgrew herself; and, in the transport lost.

+Holds now remembrance none of what she was.

+

+"Ope thou thine eyes, and mark me: thou hast seen

+Things, that empower thee to sustain my smile."

+

+I was as one, when a forgotten dream

+Doth come across him, and he strives in vain

+To shape it in his fantasy again,

+Whenas that gracious boon was proffer'd me,

+Which never may be cancel'd from the book,

+Wherein the past is written.  Now were all

+Those tongues to sound, that have on sweetest milk

+Of Polyhymnia and her sisters fed

+And fatten'd, not with all their help to boot,

+Unto the thousandth parcel of the truth,

+My song might shadow forth that saintly smile,

+flow merely in her saintly looks it wrought.

+And with such figuring of Paradise

+The sacred strain must leap, like one, that meets

+A sudden interruption to his road.

+But he, who thinks how ponderous the theme,

+And that 't is lain upon a mortal shoulder,

+May pardon, if it tremble with the burden.

+The track, our ventrous keel must furrow, brooks

+No unribb'd pinnace, no self-sparing pilot.

+

+"Why doth my face," said Beatrice, "thus

+Enamour thee, as that thou dost not turn

+Unto the beautiful garden, blossoming

+Beneath the rays of Christ?  Here is the rose,

+Wherein the word divine was made incarnate;

+And here the lilies, by whose odour known

+The way of life was follow'd."  Prompt I heard

+Her bidding, and encounter once again

+The strife of aching vision.  As erewhile,

+Through glance of sunlight, stream'd through broken cloud,

+Mine eyes a flower-besprinkled mead have seen,

+Though veil'd themselves in shade; so saw I there

+Legions of splendours, on whom burning rays

+Shed lightnings from above, yet saw I not

+The fountain whence they flow'd.  O gracious virtue!

+Thou, whose broad stamp is on them, higher up

+Thou didst exalt thy glory to give room

+To my o'erlabour'd sight: when at the name

+Of that fair flower, whom duly I invoke

+Both morn and eve, my soul, with all her might

+Collected, on the goodliest ardour fix'd.

+And, as the bright dimensions of the star

+In heav'n excelling, as once here on earth

+Were, in my eyeballs lively portray'd,

+Lo! from within the sky a cresset fell,

+Circling in fashion of a diadem,

+And girt the star, and hov'ring round it wheel'd.

+

+Whatever melody sounds sweetest here,

+And draws the spirit most unto itself,

+Might seem a rent cloud when it grates the thunder,

+Compar'd unto the sounding of that lyre,

+Wherewith the goodliest sapphire, that inlays

+The floor of heav'n, was crown'd. "Angelic Love

+I am, who thus with hov'ring flight enwheel

+The lofty rapture from that womb inspir'd,

+Where our desire did dwell: and round thee so,

+Lady of Heav'n! will hover; long as thou

+Thy Son shalt follow, and diviner joy

+Shall from thy presence gild the highest sphere."

+

+Such close was to the circling melody:

+And, as it ended, all the other lights

+Took up the strain, and echoed Mary's name.

+

+The robe, that with its regal folds enwraps

+The world, and with the nearer breath of God

+Doth burn and quiver, held so far retir'd

+Its inner hem and skirting over us,

+That yet no glimmer of its majesty

+Had stream'd unto me: therefore were mine eyes

+Unequal to pursue the crowned flame,

+That rose and sought its natal seed of fire;

+And like to babe, that stretches forth its arms

+For very eagerness towards the breast,

+After the milk is taken; so outstretch'd

+Their wavy summits all the fervent band,

+Through zealous love to Mary: then in view

+There halted, and "Regina Coeli" sang

+So sweetly, the delight hath left me never.

+

+O what o'erflowing plenty is up-pil'd

+In those rich-laden coffers, which below

+Sow'd the good seed, whose harvest now they keep.

+

+Here are the treasures tasted, that with tears

+Were in the Babylonian exile won,

+When gold had fail'd them.  Here in synod high

+Of ancient council with the new conven'd,

+Under the Son of Mary and of God,

+Victorious he his mighty triumph holds,

+To whom the keys of glory were assign'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIV

+

+"O ye! in chosen fellowship advanc'd

+To the great supper of the blessed Lamb,

+Whereon who feeds hath every wish fulfill'd!

+If to this man through God's grace be vouchsaf'd

+Foretaste of that, which from your table falls,

+Or ever death his fated term prescribe;

+Be ye not heedless of his urgent will;

+But may some influence of your sacred dews

+Sprinkle him.  Of the fount ye alway drink,

+Whence flows what most he craves."  Beatrice spake,

+And the rejoicing spirits, like to spheres

+On firm-set poles revolving, trail'd a blaze

+Of comet splendour; and as wheels, that wind

+Their circles in the horologe, so work

+The stated rounds, that to th' observant eye

+The first seems still, and, as it flew, the last;

+E'en thus their carols weaving variously,

+They by the measure pac'd, or swift, or slow,

+Made me to rate the riches of their joy.

+

+From that, which I did note in beauty most

+Excelling, saw I issue forth a flame

+So bright, as none was left more goodly there.

+Round Beatrice thrice it wheel'd about,

+With so divine a song, that fancy's ear

+Records it not; and the pen passeth on

+And leaves a blank: for that our mortal speech,

+Nor e'en the inward shaping of the brain,

+Hath colours fine enough to trace such folds.

+

+"O saintly sister mine! thy prayer devout

+Is with so vehement affection urg'd,

+Thou dost unbind me from that beauteous sphere."

+

+Such were the accents towards my lady breath'd

+From that blest ardour, soon as it was stay'd:

+To whom she thus: "O everlasting light

+Of him, within whose mighty grasp our Lord

+Did leave the keys, which of this wondrous bliss

+He bare below! tent this man, as thou wilt,

+With lighter probe or deep, touching the faith,

+By the which thou didst on the billows walk.

+If he in love, in hope, and in belief,

+Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou

+Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld

+In liveliest portraiture.  But since true faith

+Has peopled this fair realm with citizens,

+Meet is, that to exalt its glory more,

+Thou in his audience shouldst thereof discourse."

+

+Like to the bachelor, who arms himself,

+And speaks not, till the master have propos'd

+The question, to approve, and not to end it;

+So I, in silence, arm'd me, while she spake,

+Summoning up each argument to aid;

+As was behooveful for such questioner,

+And such profession: "As good Christian ought,

+Declare thee, What is faith?"  Whereat I rais'd

+My forehead to the light, whence this had breath'd,

+Then turn'd to Beatrice, and in her looks

+Approval met, that from their inmost fount

+I should unlock the waters.  "May the grace,

+That giveth me the captain of the church

+For confessor," said I, "vouchsafe to me

+Apt utterance for my thoughts!" then added: "Sire!

+E'en as set down by the unerring style

+Of thy dear brother, who with thee conspir'd

+To bring Rome in unto the way of life,

+Faith of things hop'd is substance, and the proof

+Of things not seen; and herein doth consist

+Methinks its essence,"--"Rightly hast thou deem'd,"

+Was answer'd: "if thou well discern, why first

+He hath defin'd it, substance, and then proof."

+

+"The deep things," I replied, "which here I scan

+Distinctly, are below from mortal eye

+So hidden, they have in belief alone

+Their being, on which credence hope sublime

+Is built; and therefore substance it intends.

+And inasmuch as we must needs infer

+From such belief our reasoning, all respect

+To other view excluded, hence of proof

+Th' intention is deriv'd."  Forthwith I heard:

+"If thus, whate'er by learning men attain,

+Were understood, the sophist would want room

+To exercise his wit."  So breath'd the flame

+Of love: then added: "Current is the coin

+Thou utter'st, both in weight and in alloy.

+But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse."

+

+"Even so glittering and so round," said I,

+"I not a whit misdoubt of its assay."

+

+Next issued from the deep imbosom'd splendour:

+"Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which

+Is founded every virtue, came to thee."

+"The flood," I answer'd, "from the Spirit of God

+Rain'd down upon the ancient bond and new,--

+Here is the reas'ning, that convinceth me

+So feelingly, each argument beside

+Seems blunt and forceless in comparison."

+Then heard I: "Wherefore holdest thou that each,

+The elder proposition and the new,

+Which so persuade thee, are the voice of heav'n?"

+

+"The works, that follow'd, evidence their truth;"

+I answer'd: "Nature did not make for these

+The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them."

+"Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves,"

+Was the reply, "that they in very deed

+Are that they purport?  None hath sworn so to thee."

+

+"That all the world," said I, "should have been turn'd

+To Christian, and no miracle been wrought,

+Would in itself be such a miracle,

+The rest were not an hundredth part so great.

+E'en thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger

+To set the goodly plant, that from the vine,

+It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble."

+That ended, through the high celestial court

+Resounded all the spheres.  "Praise we one God!"

+In song of most unearthly melody.

+And when that Worthy thus, from branch to branch,

+Examining, had led me, that we now

+Approach'd the topmost bough, he straight resum'd;

+"The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul,

+So far discreetly hath thy lips unclos'd

+That, whatsoe'er has past them, I commend.

+Behooves thee to express, what thou believ'st,

+The next, and whereon thy belief hath grown."

+

+"O saintly sire and spirit!" I began,

+"Who seest that, which thou didst so believe,

+As to outstrip feet younger than thine own,

+Toward the sepulchre?  thy will is here,

+That I the tenour of my creed unfold;

+And thou the cause of it hast likewise ask'd.

+And I reply: I in one God believe,

+One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love

+All heav'n is mov'd, himself unmov'd the while.

+Nor demonstration physical alone,

+Or more intelligential and abstruse,

+Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth

+It cometh to me rather, which is shed

+Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms.

+The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write,

+When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost.

+In three eternal Persons I believe,

+Essence threefold and one, mysterious league

+Of union absolute, which, many a time,

+The word of gospel lore upon my mind

+Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark,

+The lively flame dilates, and like heav'n's star

+Doth glitter in me."  As the master hears,

+Well pleas'd, and then enfoldeth in his arms

+The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought,

+And having told the errand keeps his peace;

+Thus benediction uttering with song

+Soon as my peace I held, compass'd me thrice

+The apostolic radiance, whose behest

+Had op'd lips; so well their answer pleas'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXV

+

+If e'er the sacred poem that hath made

+Both heav'n and earth copartners in its toil,

+And with lean abstinence, through many a year,

+Faded my brow, be destin'd to prevail

+Over the cruelty, which bars me forth

+Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb

+The wolves set on and fain had worried me,

+With other voice and fleece of other grain

+I shall forthwith return, and, standing up

+At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath

+Due to the poet's temples: for I there

+First enter'd on the faith which maketh souls

+Acceptable to God: and, for its sake,

+Peter had then circled my forehead thus.

+

+Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth

+The first fruit of Christ's vicars on the earth,

+Toward us mov'd a light, at view whereof

+My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me:

+"Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might,

+That makes Falicia throng'd with visitants!"

+

+As when the ring-dove by his mate alights,

+In circles each about the other wheels,

+And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I

+One, of the other great and glorious prince,

+With kindly greeting hail'd, extolling both

+Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end

+Was to their gratulation, silent, each,

+Before me sat they down, so burning bright,

+I could not look upon them.  Smiling then,

+Beatrice spake: "O life in glory shrin'd!"

+Who didst the largess of our kingly court

+Set down with faithful pen! let now thy voice

+Of hope the praises in this height resound.

+For thou, who figur'st them in shapes, as clear,

+As Jesus stood before thee, well can'st speak them."

+

+"Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust:

+For that, which hither from the mortal world

+Arriveth, must be ripen'd in our beam."

+

+Such cheering accents from the second flame

+Assur'd me; and mine eyes I lifted up

+Unto the mountains that had bow'd them late

+With over-heavy burden.  "Sith our Liege

+Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death,

+In the most secret council, with his lords

+Shouldst be confronted, so that having view'd

+The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith

+Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate

+With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare,

+What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee,

+And whence thou hadst it?"  Thus proceeding still,

+The second light: and she, whose gentle love

+My soaring pennons in that lofty flight

+Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin'd:

+Among her sons, not one more full of hope,

+Hath the church militant: so 't is of him

+Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb

+Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term

+Of warfare, hence permitted he is come,

+From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see.

+The other points, both which thou hast inquir'd,

+Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell

+How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him

+Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease,

+And without boasting, so God give him grace."

+Like to the scholar, practis'd in his task,

+Who, willing to give proof of diligence,

+Seconds his teacher gladly, "Hope," said I,

+"Is of the joy to come a sure expectance,

+Th' effect of grace divine and merit preceding.

+This light from many a star visits my heart,

+But flow'd to me the first from him, who sang

+The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme

+Among his tuneful brethren.  'Let all hope

+In thee,' so speak his anthem, 'who have known

+Thy name;' and with my faith who know not that?

+From thee, the next, distilling from his spring,

+In thine epistle, fell on me the drops

+So plenteously, that I on others shower

+The influence of their dew."  Whileas I spake,

+A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning,

+Within the bosom of that mighty sheen,

+Play'd tremulous; then forth these accents breath'd:

+"Love for the virtue which attended me

+E'en to the palm, and issuing from the field,

+Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires

+To ask of thee, whom also it delights;

+What promise thou from hope in chief dost win."

+

+"Both scriptures, new and ancient," I reply'd;

+"Propose the mark (which even now I view)

+For souls belov'd of God. Isaias saith,

+That, in their own land, each one must be clad

+In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life.

+In terms more full,

+And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth

+This revelation to us, where he tells

+Of the white raiment destin'd to the saints."

+And, as the words were ending, from above,

+"They hope in thee," first heard we cried: whereto

+Answer'd the carols all.  Amidst them next,

+A light of so clear amplitude emerg'd,

+That winter's month were but a single day,

+Were such a crystal in the Cancer's sign.

+

+Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes,

+And enters on the mazes of the dance,

+Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent,

+Than to do fitting honour to the bride;

+So I beheld the new effulgence come

+Unto the other two, who in a ring

+Wheel'd, as became their rapture.  In the dance

+And in the song it mingled.  And the dame

+Held on them fix'd her looks: e'en as the spouse

+Silent and moveless.  "This is he, who lay

+Upon the bosom of our pelican:

+This he, into whose keeping from the cross

+The mighty charge was given."  Thus she spake,

+Yet therefore naught the more remov'd her Sight

+From marking them, or ere her words began,

+Or when they clos'd.  As he, who looks intent,

+And strives with searching ken, how he may see

+The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire

+Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I

+Peer'd on that last resplendence, while I heard:

+"Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that,

+Which here abides not?  Earth my body is,

+In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long,

+As till our number equal the decree

+Of the Most High.  The two that have ascended,

+In this our blessed cloister, shine alone

+With the two garments.  So report below."

+

+As when, for ease of labour, or to shun

+Suspected peril at a whistle's breath,

+The oars, erewhile dash'd frequent in the wave,

+All rest; the flamy circle at that voice

+So rested, and the mingling sound was still,

+Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose.

+I turn'd, but ah! how trembled in my thought,

+When, looking at my side again to see

+Beatrice, I descried her not, although

+Not distant, on the happy coast she stood.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXVI

+

+With dazzled eyes, whilst wond'ring I remain'd,

+Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me,

+Issued a breath, that in attention mute

+Detain'd me; and these words it spake: "'T were well,

+That, long as till thy vision, on my form

+O'erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse

+Thou compensate the brief delay.  Say then,

+Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:

+

+"And meanwhile rest assur'd, that sight in thee

+Is but o'erpowered a space, not wholly quench'd:

+Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look

+Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt

+In Ananias' hand." I answering thus:

+"Be to mine eyes the remedy or late

+Or early, at her pleasure; for they were

+The gates, at which she enter'd, and did light

+Her never dying fire.  My wishes here

+Are centered; in this palace is the weal,

+That Alpha and Omega, is to all

+The lessons love can read me."  Yet again

+The voice which had dispers'd my fear, when daz'd

+With that excess, to converse urg'd, and spake:

+"Behooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms,

+And say, who level'd at this scope thy bow."

+

+"Philosophy," said I, ''hath arguments,

+And this place hath authority enough

+'T' imprint in me such love: for, of constraint,

+Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good,

+Kindles our love, and in degree the more,

+As it comprises more of goodness in 't.

+The essence then, where such advantage is,

+That each good, found without it, is naught else

+But of his light the beam, must needs attract

+The soul of each one, loving, who the truth

+Discerns, on which this proof is built.  Such truth

+Learn I from him, who shows me the first love

+Of all intelligential substances

+Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word

+Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith,

+'I will make all my good before thee pass.'

+Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim'st,

+E'en at the outset of thy heralding,

+In mortal ears the mystery of heav'n."

+

+"Through human wisdom, and th' authority

+Therewith agreeing," heard I answer'd, "keep

+The choicest of thy love for God.  But say,

+If thou yet other cords within thee feel'st

+That draw thee towards him; so that thou report

+How many are the fangs, with which this love

+Is grappled to thy soul."  I did not miss,

+To what intent the eagle of our Lord

+Had pointed his demand; yea noted well

+Th' avowal, which he led to; and resum'd:

+"All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God,

+Confederate to make fast our clarity.

+The being of the world, and mine own being,

+The death which he endur'd that I should live,

+And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do,

+To the foremention'd lively knowledge join'd,

+Have from the sea of ill love sav'd my bark,

+And on the coast secur'd it of the right.

+As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom,

+My love for them is great, as is the good

+Dealt by th' eternal hand, that tends them all."

+

+I ended, and therewith a song most sweet

+Rang through the spheres; and "Holy, holy, holy,"

+Accordant with the rest my lady sang.

+And as a sleep is broken and dispers'd

+Through sharp encounter of the nimble light,

+With the eye's spirit running forth to meet

+The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg'd;

+And the upstartled wight loathes that he sees;

+So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems

+Of all around him, till assurance waits

+On better judgment: thus the saintly came

+Drove from before mine eyes the motes away,

+With the resplendence of her own, that cast

+Their brightness downward, thousand miles below.

+Whence I my vision, clearer shall before,

+Recover'd; and, well nigh astounded, ask'd

+Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw.

+

+And Beatrice: "The first diving soul,

+That ever the first virtue fram'd, admires

+Within these rays his Maker."  Like the leaf,

+That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown;

+By its own virtue rear'd then stands aloof;

+So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow'd.

+Then eagerness to speak embolden'd me;

+And I began: "O fruit! that wast alone

+Mature, when first engender'd!  Ancient father!

+That doubly seest in every wedded bride

+Thy daughter by affinity and blood!

+Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold

+Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I,

+More speedily to hear thee, tell it not."

+

+It chanceth oft some animal bewrays,

+Through the sleek cov'ring of his furry coat.

+The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms

+His outside seeming to the cheer within:

+And in like guise was Adam's spirit mov'd

+To joyous mood, that through the covering shone,

+Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake:

+"No need thy will be told, which I untold

+Better discern, than thou whatever thing

+Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see

+In Him, who is truth's mirror, and Himself

+Parhelion unto all things, and naught else

+To him.  This wouldst thou hear; how long since God

+Plac'd me high garden, from whose hounds

+She led me up in this ladder, steep and long;

+What space endur'd my season of delight;

+Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish'd me;

+And what the language, which I spake and fram'd

+Not that I tasted of the tree, my son,

+Was in itself the cause of that exile,

+But only my transgressing of the mark

+Assign'd me.  There, whence at thy lady's hest

+The Mantuan mov'd him, still was I debarr'd

+This council, till the sun had made complete,

+Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice,

+His annual journey; and, through every light

+In his broad pathway, saw I him return,

+Thousand save sev'nty times, the whilst I dwelt

+Upon the earth.  The language I did use

+Was worn away, or ever Nimrod's race

+Their unaccomplishable work began.

+For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting,

+Left by his reason free, and variable,

+As is the sky that sways him.  That he speaks,

+Is nature's prompting: whether thus or thus,

+She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.

+Ere I descended into hell's abyss,

+El was the name on earth of the Chief Good,

+Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then 't was call'd

+And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use

+Is as the leaf upon the bough; that goes,

+And other comes instead.  Upon the mount

+Most high above the waters, all my life,

+Both innocent and guilty, did but reach

+From the first hour, to that which cometh next

+(As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXVII

+

+Then  "Glory to the Father, to the Son,

+And to the Holy Spirit," rang aloud

+Throughout all Paradise, that with the song

+My spirit reel'd, so passing sweet the strain:

+And what I saw was equal ecstasy;

+One universal smile it seem'd of all things,

+Joy past compare, gladness unutterable,

+Imperishable life of peace and love,

+Exhaustless riches and unmeasur'd bliss.

+

+Before mine eyes stood the four torches lit;

+And that, which first had come, began to wax

+In brightness, and in semblance such became,

+As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds,

+And interchang'd their plumes.  Silence ensued,

+Through the blest quire, by Him, who here appoints

+Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin'd;

+When thus I heard: "Wonder not, if my hue

+Be chang'd; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see

+All in like manner change with me.  My place

+He who usurps on earth (my place, ay, mine,

+Which in the presence of the Son of God

+Is void), the same hath made my cemetery

+A common sewer of puddle and of blood:

+The more below his triumph, who from hence

+Malignant fell."  Such colour, as the sun,

+At eve or morning, paints an adverse cloud,

+Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky.

+And as th' unblemish'd dame, who in herself

+Secure of censure, yet at bare report

+Of other's failing, shrinks with maiden fear;

+So Beatrice in her semblance chang'd:

+And such eclipse in heav'n methinks was seen,

+When the Most Holy suffer'd.  Then the words

+Proceeded, with voice, alter'd from itself

+So clean, the semblance did not alter more.

+"Not to this end was Christ's spouse with my blood,

+With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed:

+That she might serve for purchase of base gold:

+But for the purchase of this happy life

+Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed,

+And Urban, they, whose doom was not without

+Much weeping seal'd.  No purpose was of our

+That on the right hand of our successors

+Part of the Christian people should be set,

+And part upon their left; nor that the keys,

+Which were vouchsaf'd me, should for ensign serve

+Unto the banners, that do levy war

+On the baptiz'd: nor I, for sigil-mark

+Set upon sold and lying privileges;

+Which makes me oft to bicker and turn red.

+In shepherd's clothing greedy wolves below

+Range wide o'er all the pastures.  Arm of God!

+Why longer sleepst thou?  Caorsines and Gascona

+Prepare to quaff our blood.  O good beginning

+To what a vile conclusion must thou stoop!

+But the high providence, which did defend

+Through Scipio the world's glory unto Rome,

+Will not delay its succour: and thou, son,

+Who through thy mortal weight shall yet again

+Return below, open thy lips, nor hide

+What is by me not hidden."  As a Hood

+Of frozen vapours streams adown the air,

+What time the she-goat with her skiey horn

+Touches the sun; so saw I there stream wide

+The vapours, who with us had linger'd late

+And with glad triumph deck th' ethereal cope.

+Onward my sight their semblances pursued;

+So far pursued, as till the space between

+From its reach sever'd them: whereat the guide

+Celestial, marking me no more intent

+On upward gazing, said, "Look down and see

+What circuit thou hast compass'd."  From the hour

+When I before had cast my view beneath,

+All the first region overpast I saw,

+Which from the midmost to the bound'ry winds;

+That onward thence from Gades I beheld

+The unwise passage of Laertes' son,

+And hitherward the shore, where thou, Europa!

+Mad'st thee a joyful burden: and yet more

+Of this dim spot had seen, but that the sun,

+A constellation off and more, had ta'en

+His progress in the zodiac underneath.

+

+Then by the spirit, that doth never leave

+Its amorous dalliance with my lady's looks,

+Back with redoubled ardour were mine eyes

+Led unto her: and from her radiant smiles,

+Whenas I turn'd me, pleasure so divine

+Did lighten on me, that whatever bait

+Or art or nature in the human flesh,

+Or in its limn'd resemblance, can combine

+Through greedy eyes to take the soul withal,

+Were to her beauty nothing.  Its boon influence

+From the fair nest of Leda rapt me forth,

+And wafted on into the swiftest heav'n.

+

+What place for entrance Beatrice chose,

+I may not say, so uniform was all,

+Liveliest and loftiest.  She my secret wish

+Divin'd; and with such gladness, that God's love

+Seem'd from her visage shining, thus began:

+"Here is the goal, whence motion on his race

+Starts; motionless the centre, and the rest

+All mov'd around.  Except the soul divine,

+Place in this heav'n is none, the soul divine,

+Wherein the love, which ruleth o'er its orb,

+Is kindled, and the virtue that it sheds;

+One circle, light and love, enclasping it,

+As this doth clasp the others; and to Him,

+Who draws the bound, its limit only known.

+Measur'd itself by none, it doth divide

+Motion to all, counted unto them forth,

+As by the fifth or half ye count forth ten.

+The vase, wherein time's roots are plung'd, thou seest,

+Look elsewhere for the leaves.  O mortal lust!

+That canst not lift thy head above the waves

+Which whelm and sink thee down!  The will in man

+Bears goodly blossoms; but its ruddy promise

+Is, by the dripping of perpetual rain,

+Made mere abortion: faith and innocence

+Are met with but in babes, each taking leave

+Ere cheeks with down are sprinkled; he, that fasts,

+While yet a stammerer, with his tongue let loose

+Gluts every food alike in every moon.

+One yet a babbler, loves and listens to

+His mother; but no sooner hath free use

+Of speech, than he doth wish her in her grave.

+So suddenly doth the fair child of him,

+Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting,

+To negro blackness change her virgin white.

+

+"Thou, to abate thy wonder, note that none

+Bears rule in earth, and its frail family

+Are therefore wand'rers.  Yet before the date,

+When through the hundredth in his reck'ning drops

+Pale January must be shor'd aside

+From winter's calendar, these heav'nly spheres

+Shall roar so loud, that fortune shall be fain

+To turn the poop, where she hath now the prow;

+So that the fleet run onward; and true fruit,

+Expected long, shall crown at last the bloom!"

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXVII

+

+So she who doth imparadise my soul,

+Had drawn the veil from off our pleasant life,

+And bar'd the truth of poor mortality;

+When lo! as one who, in a mirror, spies

+The shining of a flambeau at his back,

+Lit sudden ore he deem of its approach,

+And turneth to resolve him, if the glass

+Have told him true, and sees the record faithful

+As note is to its metre; even thus,

+I well remember, did befall to me,

+Looking upon the beauteous eyes, whence love

+Had made the leash to take me.  As I turn'd;

+And that, which, in their circles, none who spies,

+Can miss of, in itself apparent, struck

+On mine; a point I saw, that darted light

+So sharp, no lid, unclosing, may bear up

+Against its keenness.  The least star we view

+From hence, had seem'd a moon, set by its side,

+As star by side of star.  And so far off,

+Perchance, as is the halo from the light

+Which paints it, when most dense the vapour spreads,

+There wheel'd about the point a circle of fire,

+More rapid than the motion, which first girds

+The world.  Then, circle after circle, round

+Enring'd each other; till the seventh reach'd

+Circumference so ample, that its bow,

+Within the span of Juno's messenger,

+lied scarce been held entire. Beyond the sev'nth,

+Follow'd yet other two.  And every one,

+As more in number distant from the first,

+Was tardier in motion; and that glow'd

+With flame most pure, that to the sparkle' of truth

+Was nearest, as partaking most, methinks,

+Of its reality.  The guide belov'd

+Saw me in anxious thought suspense, and spake:

+"Heav'n, and all nature, hangs upon that point.

+The circle thereto most conjoin'd observe;

+And know, that by intenser love its course

+Is to this swiftness wing'd."  To whom I thus:

+"It were enough; nor should I further seek,

+Had I but witness'd order, in the world

+Appointed, such as in these wheels is seen.

+But in the sensible world such diff'rence is,

+That is each round shows more divinity,

+As each is wider from the centre.  Hence,

+If in this wondrous and angelic temple,

+That hath for confine only light and love,

+My wish may have completion I must know,

+Wherefore such disagreement is between

+Th' exemplar and its copy: for myself,

+Contemplating, I fail to pierce the cause."

+

+"It is no marvel, if thy fingers foil'd

+Do leave the knot untied: so hard 't is grown

+For want of tenting."  Thus she said: "But take,"

+She added, "if thou wish thy cure, my words,

+And entertain them subtly.  Every orb

+Corporeal, doth proportion its extent

+Unto the virtue through its parts diffus'd.

+The greater blessedness preserves the more.

+The greater is the body (if all parts

+Share equally) the more is to preserve.

+Therefore the circle, whose swift course enwheels

+The universal frame answers to that,

+Which is supreme in knowledge and in love

+Thus by the virtue, not the seeming, breadth

+Of substance, measure, thou shalt see the heav'ns,

+Each to the' intelligence that ruleth it,

+Greater to more, and smaller unto less,

+Suited in strict and wondrous harmony."

+

+As when the sturdy north blows from his cheek

+A blast, that scours the sky, forthwith our air,

+Clear'd of the rack, that hung on it before,

+Glitters; and, With his beauties all unveil'd,

+The firmament looks forth serene, and smiles;

+Such was my cheer, when Beatrice drove

+With clear reply the shadows back, and truth

+Was manifested, as a star in heaven.

+And when the words were ended, not unlike

+To iron in the furnace, every cirque

+Ebullient shot forth scintillating fires:

+And every sparkle shivering to new blaze,

+In number did outmillion the account

+Reduplicate upon the chequer'd board.

+Then heard I echoing on from choir to choir,

+"Hosanna," to the fixed point, that holds,

+And shall for ever hold them to their place,

+From everlasting, irremovable.

+

+Musing awhile I stood: and she, who saw

+by inward meditations, thus began:

+"In the first circles, they, whom thou beheldst,

+Are seraphim and cherubim.  Thus swift

+Follow their hoops, in likeness to the point,

+Near as they can, approaching; and they can

+The more, the loftier their vision.  Those,

+That round them fleet, gazing the Godhead next,

+Are thrones; in whom the first trine ends.  And all

+Are blessed, even as their sight descends

+Deeper into the truth, wherein rest is

+For every mind.  Thus happiness hath root

+In seeing, not in  loving, which of sight

+Is aftergrowth.  And of the seeing such

+The meed, as unto each in due degree

+Grace and good-will their measure have assign'd.

+The other trine, that with still opening buds

+In this eternal springtide blossom fair,

+Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram,

+Breathe up in warbled melodies threefold

+Hosannas blending ever, from the three

+Transmitted. hierarchy of gods, for aye

+Rejoicing, dominations first, next then

+Virtues, and powers the third.  The next to whom

+Are princedoms and archangels, with glad round

+To tread their festal ring; and last the band

+Angelical, disporting in their sphere.

+All, as they circle in their orders, look

+Aloft, and downward with such sway prevail,

+That all with mutual impulse tend to God.

+These once a mortal view beheld.  Desire

+In Dionysius so intently wrought,

+That he, as I have done rang'd them; and nam'd

+Their orders, marshal'd in his thought.  From him

+Dissentient, one refus'd his sacred read.

+But soon as in this heav'n his doubting eyes

+Were open'd, Gregory at his error smil'd

+Nor marvel, that a denizen of earth

+Should scan such secret truth; for he had learnt

+Both this and much beside of these our orbs,

+From an eye-witness to heav'n's mysteries."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIX

+

+No longer than what time Latona's twins

+Cover'd of Libra and the fleecy star,

+Together both, girding the' horizon hang,

+In even balance from the zenith pois'd,

+Till from that verge, each, changing hemisphere,

+Part the nice level; e'en so brief a space

+Did Beatrice's silence hold.  A smile

+Bat painted on her cheek; and her fix'd gaze

+Bent on the point, at which my vision fail'd:

+When thus her words resuming she began:

+"I speak, nor what thou wouldst inquire demand;

+For I have mark'd it, where all time and place

+Are present.  Not for increase to himself

+Of good, which may not be increas'd, but forth

+To manifest his glory by its beams,

+Inhabiting his own eternity,

+Beyond time's limit or what bound soe'er

+To circumscribe his being, as he will'd,

+Into new natures, like unto himself,

+Eternal Love unfolded.  Nor before,

+As if in dull inaction torpid lay.

+For not in process of before or aft

+Upon these waters mov'd the Spirit of God.

+Simple and mix'd, both form and substance, forth

+To perfect being started, like three darts

+Shot from a bow three-corded.  And as ray

+In crystal, glass, and amber, shines entire,

+E'en at the moment of its issuing; thus

+Did, from th' eternal Sovran, beam entire

+His threefold operation, at one act

+Produc'd coeval.  Yet in order each

+Created his due station knew: those highest,

+Who pure intelligence were made: mere power

+The lowest: in the midst, bound with strict league,

+Intelligence and power, unsever'd bond.

+Long tract of ages by the angels past,

+Ere the creating of another world,

+Describ'd on Jerome's pages thou hast seen.

+But that what I disclose to thee is true,

+Those penmen, whom the Holy Spirit mov'd

+In many a passage of their sacred book

+Attest; as thou by diligent search shalt find

+And reason in some sort discerns the same,

+Who scarce would grant the heav'nly ministers

+Of their perfection void, so long a space.

+Thus when and where these spirits of love were made,

+Thou know'st, and how: and knowing hast allay'd

+Thy thirst, which from the triple question rose.

+Ere one had reckon'd twenty, e'en so soon

+Part of the angels fell: and in their fall

+Confusion to your elements ensued.

+The others kept their station: and this task,

+Whereon thou lookst, began with such delight,

+That they surcease not ever, day nor night,

+Their circling.  Of that fatal lapse the cause

+Was the curst pride of him, whom thou hast seen

+Pent with the world's incumbrance.  Those, whom here

+Thou seest, were lowly to confess themselves

+Of his free bounty, who had made them apt

+For ministries so high: therefore their views

+Were by enlight'ning grace and their own merit

+Exalted; so that in their will confirm'd

+They stand, nor feel to fall.  For do not doubt,

+But to receive the grace, which heav'n vouchsafes,

+Is meritorious, even as the soul

+With prompt affection welcometh the guest.

+Now, without further help, if with good heed

+My words thy mind have treasur'd, thou henceforth

+This consistory round about mayst scan,

+And gaze thy fill.  But since thou hast on earth

+Heard vain disputers, reasoners in the schools,

+Canvas the' angelic nature, and dispute

+Its powers of apprehension, memory, choice;

+Therefore, 't is well thou take from me the truth,

+Pure and without disguise, which they below,

+Equivocating, darken and perplex.

+

+"Know thou, that, from the first, these substances,

+Rejoicing in the countenance of God,

+Have held unceasingly their view, intent

+Upon the glorious vision, from the which

+Naught absent is nor hid: where then no change

+Of newness with succession interrupts,

+Remembrance there needs none to gather up

+Divided thought and images remote

+

+"So that men, thus at variance with the truth

+Dream, though their eyes be open; reckless some

+Of error; others well aware they err,

+To whom more guilt and shame are justly due.

+Each the known track of sage philosophy

+Deserts, and has a byway of his own:

+So much the restless eagerness to shine

+And love of singularity prevail.

+Yet this, offensive as it is, provokes

+Heav'n's anger less, than when the book of God

+Is forc'd to yield to man's authority,

+Or from its straightness warp'd: no reck'ning made

+What blood the sowing of it in the world

+Has cost; what favour for himself he wins,

+Who meekly clings to it.  The aim of all

+Is how to shine: e'en they, whose office is

+To preach the Gospel, let the gospel sleep,

+And pass their own inventions off instead.

+One tells, how at Christ's suffering the wan moon

+Bent back her steps, and shadow'd o'er the sun

+With intervenient disk, as she withdrew:

+Another, how the light shrouded itself

+Within its tabernacle, and left dark

+The Spaniard and the Indian, with the Jew.

+Such fables Florence in her pulpit hears,

+Bandied about more frequent, than the names

+Of Bindi and of Lapi in her streets.

+The sheep, meanwhile, poor witless ones, return

+From pasture, fed with wind: and what avails

+For their excuse, they do not see their harm?

+Christ said not to his first conventicle,

+'Go forth and preach impostures to the world,'

+But gave them truth to build on; and the sound

+Was mighty on their lips; nor needed they,

+Beside the gospel, other spear or shield,

+To aid them in their warfare for the faith.

+The preacher now provides himself with store

+Of jests and gibes; and, so there be no lack

+Of laughter, while he vents them, his big cowl

+Distends, and he has won the meed he sought:

+Could but the vulgar catch a glimpse the while

+Of that dark bird which nestles in his hood,

+They scarce would wait to hear the blessing said.

+Which now the dotards hold in such esteem,

+That every counterfeit, who spreads abroad

+The hands of holy promise, finds a throng

+Of credulous fools beneath.  Saint Anthony

+Fattens with this his swine, and others worse

+Than swine, who diet at his lazy board,

+Paying with unstamp'd metal for their fare.

+

+"But (for we far have wander'd) let us seek

+The forward path again; so as the way

+Be shorten'd with the time.  No mortal tongue

+Nor thought of man hath ever reach'd so far,

+That of these natures he might count the tribes.

+What Daniel of their thousands hath reveal'd

+With finite number infinite conceals.

+The fountain at whose source these drink their beams,

+With light supplies them in as many modes,

+As there are splendours, that it shines on: each

+According to the virtue it conceives,

+Differing in love and sweet affection.

+Look then how lofty and how huge in breadth

+The' eternal might, which, broken and dispers'd

+Over such countless mirrors, yet remains

+Whole in itself and one, as at the first."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXX

+

+Noon's fervid hour perchance six thousand miles

+From hence is distant; and the shadowy cone

+Almost to level on our earth declines;

+When from the midmost of this blue abyss

+By turns some star is to our vision lost.

+And straightway as the handmaid of the sun

+Puts forth her radiant brow, all, light by light,

+Fade, and the spangled firmament shuts in,

+E'en to the loveliest of the glittering throng.

+Thus vanish'd gradually from my sight

+The triumph, which plays ever round the point,

+That overcame me, seeming (for it did)

+Engirt by that it girdeth.  Wherefore love,

+With loss of other object, forc'd me bend

+Mine eyes on Beatrice once again.

+

+If all, that hitherto is told of her,

+Were in one praise concluded, 't were too weak

+To furnish out this turn.  Mine eyes did look

+On beauty, such, as I believe in sooth,

+Not merely to exceed our human, but,

+That save its Maker, none can to the full

+Enjoy it.  At this point o'erpower'd I fail,

+Unequal to my theme, as never bard

+Of buskin or of sock hath fail'd before.

+For, as the sun doth to the feeblest sight,

+E'en so remembrance of that witching smile

+Hath dispossess my spirit of itself.

+Not from that day, when on this earth I first

+Beheld her charms, up to that view of them,

+Have I with song applausive ever ceas'd

+To follow, but not follow them no more;

+My course here bounded, as each artist's is,

+When it doth touch the limit of his skill.

+

+She (such as I bequeath her to the bruit

+Of louder trump than mine, which hasteneth on,

+Urging its arduous matter to the close),

+Her words resum'd, in gesture and in voice

+Resembling one accustom'd to command:

+"Forth from the last corporeal are we come

+Into the heav'n, that is unbodied light,

+Light intellectual replete with love,

+Love of true happiness replete with joy,

+Joy, that transcends all sweetness of delight.

+Here shalt thou look on either mighty host

+Of Paradise; and one in that array,

+Which in the final judgment thou shalt see."

+

+As when the lightning, in a sudden spleen

+Unfolded, dashes from the blinding eyes

+The visive spirits dazzled and bedimm'd;

+So, round about me, fulminating streams

+Of living radiance play'd, and left me swath'd

+And veil'd in dense impenetrable blaze.

+Such weal is in the love, that stills this heav'n;

+For its own flame the torch this fitting ever!

+

+No sooner to my list'ning ear had come

+The brief assurance, than I understood

+New virtue into me infus'd, and sight

+Kindled afresh, with vigour to sustain

+Excess of light, however pure.  I look'd;

+And in the likeness of a river saw

+Light flowing, from whose amber-seeming waves

+Flash'd up effulgence, as they glided on

+'Twixt banks, on either side, painted with spring,

+Incredible how fair; and, from the tide,

+There ever and anon, outstarting, flew

+Sparkles instinct with life; and in the flow'rs

+Did set them, like to rubies chas'd in gold;

+Then, as if drunk with odors, plung'd again

+Into the wondrous flood; from which, as one

+Re'enter'd, still another rose.  "The thirst

+Of knowledge high, whereby thou art inflam'd,

+To search the meaning of what here thou seest,

+The more it warms thee, pleases me the more.

+But first behooves thee of this water drink,

+Or ere that longing be allay'd."  So spake

+The day-star of mine eyes; then thus subjoin'd:

+"This stream, and these, forth issuing from its gulf,

+And diving back, a living topaz each,

+With all this laughter on its bloomy shores,

+Are but a preface, shadowy of the truth

+They emblem: not that, in themselves, the things

+Are crude; but on thy part is the defect,

+For that thy views not yet aspire so high."

+Never did babe, that had outslept his wont,

+Rush, with such eager straining, to the milk,

+As I toward the water, bending me,

+To make the better mirrors of mine eyes

+In the refining wave; and, as the eaves

+Of mine eyelids did drink of it, forthwith

+Seem'd it unto me turn'd from length to round,

+Then as a troop of maskers, when they put

+Their vizors off, look other than before,

+The counterfeited semblance thrown aside;

+So into greater jubilee were chang'd

+Those flowers and sparkles, and distinct I saw

+Before me either court of heav'n displac'd.

+

+O prime enlightener! thou who crav'st me strength

+On the high triumph of thy realm to gaze!

+Grant virtue now to utter what I kenn'd,

+    There is in heav'n a light, whose goodly shine

+Makes the Creator visible to all

+Created, that in seeing him alone

+Have peace; and in a circle spreads so far,

+That the circumference were too loose a zone

+To girdle in the sun.  All is one beam,

+Reflected from the summit of the first,

+That moves, which being hence and vigour takes,

+And as some cliff, that from the bottom eyes

+Its image mirror'd in the crystal flood,

+As if 't admire its brave appareling

+Of verdure and of flowers: so, round about,

+Eyeing the light, on more than million thrones,

+Stood, eminent, whatever from our earth

+Has to the skies return'd.  How wide the leaves

+Extended to their utmost of this rose,

+Whose lowest step embosoms such a space

+Of ample radiance!  Yet, nor amplitude

+Nor height impeded, but my view with ease

+Took in the full dimensions of that joy.

+Near or remote, what there avails, where God

+Immediate rules, and Nature, awed, suspends

+Her sway?  Into the yellow of the rose

+Perennial, which in bright expansiveness,

+Lays forth its gradual blooming, redolent

+Of praises to the never-wint'ring sun,

+As one, who fain would speak yet holds his peace,

+Beatrice led me; and, "Behold," she said,

+"This fair assemblage! stoles of snowy white

+How numberless!  The city, where we dwell,

+Behold how vast! and these our seats so throng'd

+Few now are wanting here!  In that proud stall,

+On which, the crown, already o'er its state

+Suspended, holds thine eyes--or ere thyself

+Mayst at the wedding sup,--shall rest the soul

+Of the great Harry, he who, by the world

+Augustas hail'd, to Italy must come,

+Before her day be ripe.  But ye are sick,

+And in your tetchy wantonness as blind,

+As is the bantling, that of hunger dies,

+And drives away the nurse.  Nor may it be,

+That he, who in the sacred forum sways,

+Openly or in secret, shall with him

+Accordant walk: Whom God will not endure

+I' th' holy office long; but thrust him down

+To Simon Magus, where Magna's priest

+Will sink beneath him: such will be his meed."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXI

+

+In fashion, as a snow-white rose, lay then

+Before my view the saintly multitude,

+Which in his own blood Christ espous'd.  Meanwhile

+That other host, that soar aloft to gaze

+And celebrate his glory, whom they love,

+Hover'd around; and, like a troop of bees,

+Amid the vernal sweets alighting now,

+Now, clustering, where their fragrant labour glows,

+Flew downward to the mighty flow'r, or rose

+From the redundant petals, streaming back

+Unto the steadfast dwelling of their joy.

+Faces had they of flame, and wings of gold;

+The rest was whiter than the driven snow.

+And as they flitted down into the flower,

+From range to range, fanning their plumy loins,

+Whisper'd the peace and ardour, which they won

+From that soft winnowing.  Shadow none, the vast

+Interposition of such numerous flight

+Cast, from above, upon the flower, or view

+Obstructed aught.  For, through the universe,

+Wherever merited, celestial light

+Glides freely, and no obstacle prevents.

+

+All there, who reign in safety and in bliss,

+Ages long past or new, on one sole mark

+Their love and vision fix'd.  O trinal beam

+Of individual star, that charmst them thus,

+Vouchsafe one glance to gild our storm below!

+

+If the grim brood, from Arctic shores that roam'd,

+(Where helice, forever, as she wheels,

+Sparkles a mother's fondness on her son)

+Stood in mute wonder 'mid the works of Rome,

+When to their view the Lateran arose

+In greatness more than earthly; I, who then

+From human to divine had past, from time

+Unto eternity, and out of Florence

+To justice and to truth, how might I choose

+But marvel too?  'Twixt gladness and amaze,

+In sooth no will had I to utter aught,

+Or hear.  And, as a pilgrim, when he rests

+Within the temple of his vow, looks round

+In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell

+Of all its goodly state: e'en so mine eyes

+Cours'd up and down along the living light,

+Now low, and now aloft, and now around,

+Visiting every step.  Looks I beheld,

+Where charity in soft persuasion sat,

+Smiles from within and radiance from above,

+And in each gesture grace and honour high.

+

+So rov'd my ken, and its general form

+All Paradise survey'd: when round I turn'd

+With purpose of my lady to inquire

+Once more of things, that held my thought suspense,

+But answer found from other than I ween'd;

+For, Beatrice, when I thought to see,

+I saw instead a senior, at my side,

+ Rob'd, as the rest, in glory.  Joy benign

+Glow'd in his eye, and o'er his cheek diffus'd,

+With gestures such as spake a father's love.

+And, "Whither is she vanish'd?"  straight I ask'd.

+

+"By Beatrice summon'd," he replied,

+"I come to aid thy wish.  Looking aloft

+To the third circle from the highest, there

+Behold her on the throne, wherein her merit

+Hath plac'd her."  Answering not, mine eyes I rais'd,

+And saw her, where aloof she sat, her brow

+A wreath reflecting of eternal beams.

+Not from the centre of the sea so far

+Unto the region of the highest thunder,

+As was my ken from hers; and yet the form

+Came through that medium down, unmix'd and pure,

+

+"O Lady! thou in whom my hopes have rest!

+Who, for my safety, hast not scorn'd, in hell

+To leave the traces of thy footsteps mark'd!

+For all mine eyes have seen, I, to thy power

+And goodness, virtue owe and grace.  Of slave,

+Thou hast to freedom brought me; and no means,

+For my deliverance apt, hast left untried.

+Thy liberal bounty still toward me keep.

+That, when my spirit, which thou madest whole,

+Is loosen'd from this body, it may find

+Favour with thee."  So I my suit preferr'd:

+And she, so distant, as appear'd, look'd down,

+And smil'd; then tow'rds th' eternal fountain turn'd.

+

+And thus the senior, holy and rever'd:

+"That thou at length mayst happily conclude

+Thy voyage (to which end I was dispatch'd,

+By supplication mov'd and holy love)

+Let thy upsoaring vision range, at large,

+This garden through: for so, by ray divine

+Kindled, thy ken a higher flight shall mount;

+And from heav'n's queen, whom fervent I adore,

+All gracious aid befriend us; for that I

+Am her own faithful Bernard."  Like a wight,

+Who haply from Croatia wends to see

+Our Veronica, and the while 't is shown,

+Hangs over it with never-sated gaze,

+And, all that he hath heard revolving, saith

+Unto himself in thought: "And didst thou look

+E'en thus, O Jesus, my true Lord and God?

+And was this semblance thine?"  So gaz'd I then

+Adoring; for the charity of him,

+Who musing, in the world that peace enjoy'd,

+Stood lively before me.  "Child of grace!"

+Thus he began: "thou shalt not knowledge gain

+Of this glad being, if thine eyes are held

+Still in this depth below.  But search around

+The circles, to the furthest, till thou spy

+Seated in state, the queen, that of this realm

+Is sovran."  Straight mine eyes I rais'd; and bright,

+As, at the birth of morn, the eastern clime

+Above th' horizon, where the sun declines;

+To mine eyes, that upward, as from vale

+To mountain sped, at th' extreme bound, a part

+Excell'd in lustre all the front oppos'd.

+And as the glow burns ruddiest o'er the wave,

+That waits the sloping beam, which Phaeton

+Ill knew to guide, and on each part the light

+Diminish'd fades, intensest in the midst;

+So burn'd the peaceful oriflame, and slack'd

+On every side the living flame decay'd.

+And in that midst their sportive pennons wav'd

+Thousands of angels; in resplendence each

+Distinct, and quaint adornment. At their glee

+And carol, smil'd the Lovely One of heav'n,

+That joy was in the eyes of all the blest.

+

+Had I a tongue in eloquence as rich,

+As is the colouring in fancy's loom,

+'T were all too poor to utter the least part

+Of that enchantment.  When he saw mine eyes

+Intent on her, that charm'd him, Bernard gaz'd

+With so exceeding fondness, as infus'd

+Ardour into my breast, unfelt before.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXII

+

+Freely the sage, though wrapt in musings high,

+Assum'd the teacher's part, and mild began:

+"The wound, that Mary clos'd, she open'd first,

+Who sits so beautiful at Mary's feet.

+The third in order, underneath her, lo!

+Rachel with Beatrice. Sarah next,

+Judith, Rebecca, and the gleaner maid,

+Meek ancestress of him, who sang the songs

+Of sore repentance in his sorrowful mood.

+All, as I name them, down from deaf to leaf,

+Are in gradation throned on the rose.

+And from the seventh step, successively,

+Adown the breathing tresses of the flow'r

+Still doth the file of Hebrew dames proceed.

+For these are a partition wall, whereby

+The sacred stairs are sever'd, as the faith

+In Christ divides them.  On this part, where blooms

+Each leaf in full maturity, are set

+Such as in Christ, or ere he came, believ'd.

+On th' other, where an intersected space

+Yet shows the semicircle void, abide

+All they, who look'd to Christ already come.

+And as our Lady on her glorious stool,

+And they who on their stools beneath her sit,

+This way distinction make: e'en so on his,

+The mighty Baptist that way marks the line

+(He who endur'd the desert and the pains

+Of martyrdom, and for two years of hell,

+Yet still continued holy), and beneath,

+Augustin, Francis, Benedict, and the rest,

+Thus far from round to round.  So heav'n's decree

+Forecasts, this garden equally to fill.

+With faith in either view, past or to come,

+Learn too, that downward from the step, which cleaves

+Midway the twain compartments, none there are

+Who place obtain for merit of their own,

+But have through others' merit been advanc'd,

+On set conditions: spirits all releas'd,

+Ere for themselves they had the power to choose.

+And, if thou mark and listen to them well,

+Their childish looks and voice declare as much.

+

+"Here, silent as thou art, I know thy doubt;

+And gladly will I loose the knot, wherein

+Thy subtle thoughts have bound thee.  From this realm

+Excluded, chalice no entrance here may find,

+No more shall hunger, thirst, or sorrow can.

+A law immutable hath establish'd all;

+Nor is there aught thou seest, that doth not fit,

+Exactly, as the finger to the ring.

+It is not therefore without cause, that these,

+O'erspeedy comers to immortal life,

+Are different in their shares of excellence.

+Our Sovran Lord--that settleth this estate

+In love and in delight so absolute,

+That wish can dare no further--every soul,

+Created in his joyous sight to dwell,

+With grace at pleasure variously endows.

+And for a proof th' effect may well suffice.

+And 't is moreover most expressly mark'd

+In holy scripture, where the twins are said

+To, have struggled in the womb.  Therefore, as grace

+Inweaves the coronet, so every brow

+Weareth its proper hue of orient light.

+And merely in respect to his prime gift,

+Not in reward of meritorious deed,

+Hath each his several degree assign'd.

+In early times with their own innocence

+More was not wanting, than the parents' faith,

+To save them: those first ages past, behoov'd

+That circumcision in the males should imp

+The flight of innocent wings: but since the day

+Of grace hath come, without baptismal rites

+In Christ accomplish'd, innocence herself

+Must linger yet below.  Now raise thy view

+Unto the visage most resembling Christ:

+For, in her splendour only, shalt thou win

+The pow'r to look on him."  Forthwith I saw

+Such floods of gladness on her visage shower'd,

+From holy spirits, winging that profound;

+That, whatsoever I had yet beheld,

+Had not so much suspended me with wonder,

+Or shown me such similitude of God.

+And he, who had to her descended, once,

+On earth, now hail'd in heav'n; and on pois'd wing.

+"Ave, Maria, Gratia Plena," sang:

+To whose sweet anthem all the blissful court,

+From all parts answ'ring, rang: that holier joy

+Brooded the deep serene.  "Father rever'd:

+Who deign'st, for me, to quit the pleasant place,

+Wherein thou sittest, by eternal lot!

+Say, who that angel is, that with such glee

+Beholds our queen, and so enamour'd glows

+Of her high beauty, that all fire he seems."

+So I again resorted to the lore

+Of my wise teacher, he, whom Mary's charms

+Embellish'd, as the sun the morning star;

+Who thus in answer spake: "In him are summ'd,

+Whatever of buxomness and free delight

+May be in Spirit, or in angel, met:

+And so beseems: for that he bare the palm

+Down unto Mary, when the Son of God

+Vouchsaf'd to clothe him in terrestrial weeds.

+Now let thine eyes wait heedful on my words,

+And note thou of this just and pious realm

+The chiefest nobles.  Those, highest in bliss,

+The twain, on each hand next our empress thron'd,

+Are as it were two roots unto this rose.

+He to the left, the parent, whose rash taste

+Proves bitter to his seed; and, on the right,

+That ancient father of the holy church,

+Into whose keeping Christ did give the keys

+Of this sweet flow'r: near whom behold the seer,

+That, ere he died, saw all the grievous times

+Of the fair bride, who with the lance and nails

+Was won.  And, near unto the other, rests

+The leader, under whom on manna fed

+Th' ungrateful nation, fickle and perverse.

+On th' other part, facing to Peter, lo!

+Where Anna sits, so well content to look

+On her lov'd daughter, that with moveless eye

+She chants the loud hosanna: while, oppos'd

+To the first father of your mortal kind,

+Is Lucia, at whose hest thy lady sped,

+When on the edge of ruin clos'd thine eye.

+

+"But (for the vision hasteneth so an end)

+Here break we off, as the good workman doth,

+That shapes the cloak according to the cloth:

+And to the primal love our ken shall rise;

+That thou mayst penetrate the brightness, far

+As sight can bear thee.  Yet, alas! in sooth

+Beating thy pennons, thinking to advance,

+Thou backward fall'st.  Grace then must first be gain'd;

+Her grace, whose might can help thee.  Thou in prayer

+Seek her: and, with affection, whilst I sue,

+Attend, and yield me all thy heart."  He said,

+And thus the saintly orison began.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXIII

+

+"O virgin mother, daughter of thy Son,

+Created beings all in lowliness

+Surpassing, as in height, above them all,

+Term by th' eternal counsel pre-ordain'd,

+Ennobler of thy nature, so advanc'd

+In thee, that its great Maker did not scorn,

+Himself, in his own work enclos'd to dwell!

+For in thy womb rekindling shone the love

+Reveal'd, whose genial influence makes now

+This flower to germin in eternal peace!

+Here thou to us, of charity and love,

+Art, as the noon-day torch: and art, beneath,

+To mortal men, of hope a living spring.

+So mighty art thou, lady! and so great,

+That he who grace desireth, and comes not

+To thee for aidance, fain would have desire

+Fly without wings.  Nor only him who asks,

+Thy bounty succours, but doth freely oft

+Forerun the asking.  Whatsoe'er may be

+Of excellence in creature, pity mild,

+Relenting mercy, large munificence,

+Are all combin'd in thee.  Here kneeleth one,

+Who of all spirits hath review'd the state,

+From the world's lowest gap unto this height.

+Suppliant to thee he kneels, imploring grace

+For virtue, yet more high to lift his ken

+Toward the bliss supreme.  And I, who ne'er

+Coveted sight, more fondly, for myself,

+Than now for him, my prayers to thee prefer,

+(And pray they be not scant) that thou wouldst drive

+Each cloud of his mortality away;

+That on the sovran pleasure he may gaze.

+This also I entreat of thee, O queen!

+Who canst do what thou wilt! that in him thou

+Wouldst after all he hath beheld, preserve

+Affection sound, and human passions quell.

+Lo!  Where, with Beatrice, many a saint

+Stretch their clasp'd hands, in furtherance of my suit!"

+

+The eyes, that heav'n with love and awe regards,

+Fix'd on the suitor, witness'd, how benign

+She looks on pious pray'rs: then fasten'd they

+On th' everlasting light, wherein no eye

+Of creature, as may well be thought, so far

+Can travel inward.  I, meanwhile, who drew

+Near to the limit, where all wishes end,

+The ardour of my wish (for so behooved),

+Ended within me. Beck'ning smil'd the sage,

+That I should look aloft: but, ere he bade,

+Already of myself aloft I look'd;

+For visual strength, refining more and more,

+Bare me into the ray authentical

+Of sovran light.  Thenceforward, what I saw,

+Was not for words to speak, nor memory's self

+To stand against such outrage on her skill.

+As one, who from a dream awaken'd, straight,

+All he hath seen forgets; yet still retains

+Impression of the feeling in his dream;

+E'en such am I: for all the vision dies,

+As 't were, away; and yet the sense of sweet,

+That sprang from it, still trickles in my heart.

+Thus in the sun-thaw is the snow unseal'd;

+Thus in the winds on flitting leaves was lost

+The Sybil's sentence.  O eternal beam!

+(Whose height what reach of mortal thought may soar?)

+Yield me again some little particle

+Of what thou then appearedst, give my tongue

+Power, but to leave one sparkle of thy glory,

+Unto the race to come, that shall not lose

+Thy triumph wholly, if thou waken aught

+Of memory in me, and endure to hear

+The record sound in this unequal strain.

+

+Such keenness from the living ray I met,

+That, if mine eyes had turn'd away, methinks,

+I had been lost; but, so embolden'd, on

+I pass'd, as I remember, till my view

+Hover'd the brink of dread infinitude.

+

+O grace! unenvying of thy boon! that gav'st

+Boldness to fix so earnestly my ken

+On th' everlasting splendour, that I look'd,

+While sight was unconsum'd, and, in that depth,

+Saw in one volume clasp'd of love, whatever

+The universe unfolds; all properties

+Of substance and of accident, beheld,

+Compounded, yet one individual light

+The whole.  And of such bond methinks I saw

+The universal form: for that whenever

+I do but speak of it, my soul dilates

+Beyond her proper self; and, till I speak,

+One moment seems a longer lethargy,

+Than five-and-twenty ages had appear'd

+To that emprize, that first made Neptune wonder

+At Argo's shadow darkening on his flood.

+

+With fixed heed, suspense and motionless,

+Wond'ring I gaz'd; and admiration still

+Was kindled, as I gaz'd.  It may not be,

+That one, who looks upon that light, can turn

+To other object, willingly, his view.

+For all the good, that will may covet, there

+Is summ'd; and all, elsewhere defective found,

+Complete.  My tongue shall utter now, no more

+E'en what remembrance keeps, than could the babe's

+That yet is moisten'd at his mother's breast.

+Not that the semblance of the living light

+Was chang'd (that ever as at first remain'd)

+But that my vision quickening, in that sole

+Appearance, still new miracles descry'd,

+And toil'd me with the change.  In that abyss

+Of radiance, clear and lofty, seem'd methought,

+Three orbs of triple hue clipt in one bound:

+And, from another, one reflected seem'd,

+As rainbow is from rainbow: and the third

+Seem'd fire, breath'd equally from both.  Oh speech

+How feeble and how faint art thou, to give

+Conception birth!  Yet this to what I saw

+Is less than little.  Oh eternal light!

+Sole in thyself that dwellst; and of thyself

+Sole understood, past, present, or to come!

+Thou smiledst; on that circling, which in thee

+Seem'd as reflected splendour, while I mus'd;

+For I therein, methought, in its own hue

+Beheld our image painted: steadfastly

+I therefore por'd upon the view.  As one

+Who vers'd in geometric lore, would fain

+Measure the circle; and, though pondering long

+And deeply, that beginning, which he needs,

+Finds not; e'en such was I, intent to scan

+The novel wonder, and trace out the form,

+How to the circle fitted, and therein

+How plac'd: but the flight was not for my wing;

+Had not a flash darted athwart my mind,

+And in the spleen unfolded what it sought.

+

+Here vigour fail'd the tow'ring fantasy:

+But yet the will roll'd onward, like a wheel

+In even motion, by the Love impell'd,

+That moves the sun in heav'n and all the stars.

+

+

+

+

+

+THE VISION

+

+OF

+

+PURGATORY

+

+BY DANTE ALIGHIERI

+

+

+Complete

+

+

+

+TRANSLATED BY

+

+THE REV. H. F. CARY

+

+

+

+PURGATORY

+

+Cantos 1 - 33

+

+

+

+CANTO I

+

+O'er better waves to speed her rapid course

+The light bark of my genius lifts the sail,

+Well pleas'd to leave so cruel sea behind;

+And of that second region will I sing,

+In which the human spirit from sinful blot

+Is purg'd, and for ascent to Heaven prepares.

+

+Here, O ye hallow'd Nine! for in your train

+I follow, here the deadened strain revive;

+Nor let Calliope refuse to sound

+A somewhat higher song, of that loud tone,

+Which when the wretched birds of chattering note

+Had heard, they of forgiveness lost all hope.

+

+Sweet hue of eastern sapphire, that was spread

+O'er the serene aspect of the pure air,

+High up as the first circle, to mine eyes

+Unwonted joy renew'd, soon as I 'scap'd

+Forth from the atmosphere of deadly gloom,

+That had mine eyes and bosom fill'd with grief.

+The radiant planet, that to love invites,

+Made all the orient laugh, and veil'd beneath

+The Pisces' light, that in his escort came.

+

+To the right hand I turn'd, and fix'd my mind

+On the' other pole attentive, where I saw

+Four stars ne'er seen before save by the ken

+Of our first parents.  Heaven of their rays

+Seem'd joyous.  O thou northern site, bereft

+Indeed, and widow'd, since of these depriv'd!

+

+As from this view I had desisted, straight

+Turning a little tow'rds the other pole,

+There from whence now the wain had disappear'd,

+I saw an old man standing by my side

+Alone, so worthy of rev'rence in his look,

+That ne'er from son to father more was ow'd.

+Low down his beard and mix'd with hoary white

+Descended, like his locks, which parting fell

+Upon his breast in double fold.  The beams

+Of those four luminaries on his face

+So brightly shone, and with such radiance clear

+Deck'd it, that I beheld him as the sun.

+

+"Say who are ye, that stemming the blind stream,

+Forth from th' eternal prison-house have fled?"

+He spoke and moved those venerable plumes.

+"Who hath conducted, or with lantern sure

+Lights you emerging from the depth of night,

+That makes the infernal valley ever black?

+Are the firm statutes of the dread abyss

+Broken, or in high heaven new laws ordain'd,

+That thus, condemn'd, ye to my caves approach?"

+

+My guide, then laying hold on me, by words

+And intimations given with hand and head,

+Made my bent knees and eye submissive pay

+Due reverence; then thus to him replied.

+

+"Not of myself I come; a Dame from heaven

+Descending, had besought me in my charge

+To bring.  But since thy will implies, that more

+Our true condition I unfold at large,

+Mine is not to deny thee thy request.

+This mortal ne'er hath seen the farthest gloom.

+But erring by his folly had approach'd

+So near, that little space was left to turn.

+Then, as before I told, I was dispatch'd

+To work his rescue, and no way remain'd

+Save this which I have ta'en.  I have display'd

+Before him all the regions of the bad;

+And purpose now those spirits to display,

+That under thy command are purg'd from sin.

+How I have brought him would be long to say.

+From high descends the virtue, by whose aid

+I to thy sight and hearing him have led.

+Now may our coming please thee.  In the search

+Of liberty he journeys: that how dear

+They know, who for her sake have life refus'd.

+Thou knowest, to whom death for her was sweet

+In Utica, where thou didst leave those weeds,

+That in the last great day will shine so bright.

+For us the' eternal edicts are unmov'd:

+He breathes, and I am free of Minos' power,

+Abiding in that circle where the eyes

+Of thy chaste Marcia beam, who still in look

+Prays thee, O hallow'd spirit! to own her shine.

+Then by her love we' implore thee, let us pass

+Through thy sev'n regions; for which best thanks

+I for thy favour will to her return,

+If mention there below thou not disdain."

+

+"Marcia so pleasing in my sight was found,"

+He then to him rejoin'd, "while I was there,

+That all she ask'd me I was fain to grant.

+Now that beyond the' accursed stream she dwells,

+She may no longer move me, by that law,

+Which was ordain'd me, when I issued thence.

+Not so, if Dame from heaven, as thou sayst,

+Moves and directs thee; then no flattery needs.

+Enough for me that in her name thou ask.

+Go therefore now: and with a slender reed

+See that thou duly gird him, and his face

+Lave, till all sordid stain thou wipe from thence.

+For not with eye, by any cloud obscur'd,

+Would it be seemly before him to come,

+Who stands the foremost minister in heaven.

+This islet all around, there far beneath,

+Where the wave beats it, on the oozy bed

+Produces store of reeds. No other plant,

+Cover'd with leaves, or harden'd in its stalk,

+There lives, not bending to the water's sway.

+After, this way return not; but the sun

+Will show you, that now rises, where to take

+The mountain in its easiest ascent."

+

+He disappear'd; and I myself uprais'd

+Speechless, and to my guide retiring close,

+Toward him turn'd mine eyes.  He thus began;

+"My son! observant thou my steps pursue.

+We must retreat to rearward, for that way

+The champain to its low extreme declines."

+

+The dawn had chas'd the matin hour of prime,

+Which deaf before it, so that from afar

+I spy'd the trembling of the ocean stream.

+

+We travers'd the deserted plain, as one

+Who, wander'd from his track, thinks every step

+Trodden in vain till he regain the path.

+

+When we had come, where yet the tender dew

+Strove with the sun, and in a place, where fresh

+The wind breath'd o'er it, while it slowly dried;

+Both hands extended on the watery grass

+My master plac'd, in graceful act and kind.

+Whence I of his intent before appriz'd,

+Stretch'd out to him my cheeks suffus'd with tears.

+There to my visage he anew restor'd

+That hue, which the dun shades of hell conceal'd.

+

+Then on the solitary shore arriv'd,

+That never sailing on its waters saw

+Man, that could after measure back his course,

+He girt me in such manner as had pleas'd

+Him who instructed, and O, strange to tell!

+As he selected every humble plant,

+Wherever one was pluck'd, another there

+Resembling, straightway in its place arose.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO II

+

+Now had the sun to that horizon reach'd,

+That covers, with the most exalted point

+Of its meridian circle, Salem's walls,

+And night, that opposite to him her orb

+Sounds, from the stream of Ganges issued forth,

+Holding the scales, that from her hands are dropp'd

+When she reigns highest: so that where I was,

+Aurora's white and vermeil-tinctur'd cheek

+To orange turn'd as she in age increas'd.

+

+Meanwhile we linger'd by the water's brink,

+Like men, who, musing on their road, in thought

+Journey, while motionless the body rests.

+When lo! as near upon the hour of dawn,

+Through the thick vapours Mars with fiery beam

+Glares down in west, over the ocean floor;

+So seem'd, what once again I hope to view,

+A light so swiftly coming through the sea,

+No winged course might equal its career.

+From which when for a space I had withdrawn

+Thine eyes, to make inquiry of my guide,

+Again I look'd and saw it grown in size

+And brightness: thou on either side appear'd

+Something, but what I knew not of bright hue,

+And by degrees from underneath it came

+Another.  My preceptor silent yet

+Stood, while the brightness, that we first discern'd,

+Open'd the form of wings: then when he knew

+The pilot, cried aloud, "Down, down; bend low

+Thy knees; behold God's angel: fold thy hands:

+Now shalt thou see true Ministers indeed.

+

+"Lo how all human means he sets at naught!

+So that nor oar he needs, nor other sail

+Except his wings, between such distant shores.

+Lo how straight up to heaven he holds them rear'd,

+Winnowing the air with those eternal plumes,

+That not like mortal hairs fall off or change!"

+

+As more and more toward us came, more bright

+Appear'd the bird of God, nor could the eye

+Endure his splendor near: I mine bent down.

+He drove ashore in a small bark so swift

+And light, that in its course no wave it drank.

+The heav'nly steersman at the prow was seen,

+Visibly written blessed in his looks.

+

+Within a hundred spirits and more there sat.

+"In Exitu Israel de Aegypto;"

+All with one voice together sang, with what

+In the remainder of that hymn is writ.

+Then soon as with the sign of holy cross

+He bless'd them, they at once leap'd out on land,

+The swiftly as he came return'd. The crew,

+There left, appear'd astounded with the place,

+Gazing around as one who sees new sights.

+

+From every side the sun darted his beams,

+And with his arrowy radiance from mid heav'n

+Had chas'd the Capricorn, when that strange tribe

+Lifting their eyes towards us: "If ye know,

+Declare what path will Lead us to the mount."

+

+Them Virgil answer'd.  "Ye suppose perchance

+Us well acquainted with this place: but here,

+We, as yourselves, are strangers.  Not long erst

+We came, before you but a little space,

+By other road so rough and hard, that now

+The' ascent will seem to us as play."  The spirits,

+Who from my breathing had perceiv'd I liv'd,

+Grew pale with wonder.  As the multitude

+Flock round a herald, sent with olive branch,

+To hear what news he brings, and in their haste

+Tread one another down, e'en so at sight

+Of me those happy spirits were fix'd, each one

+Forgetful of its errand, to depart,

+Where cleans'd from sin, it might be made all fair.

+

+Then one I saw darting before the rest

+With such fond ardour to embrace me, I

+To do the like was mov'd.  O shadows vain

+Except in outward semblance! thrice my hands

+I clasp'd behind it, they as oft return'd

+Empty into my breast again.  Surprise

+I needs must think was painted in my looks,

+For that the shadow smil'd and backward drew.

+To follow it I hasten'd, but with voice

+Of sweetness it enjoin'd me to desist.

+Then who it was I knew, and pray'd of it,

+To talk with me, it would a little pause.

+It answered: "Thee as in my mortal frame

+I lov'd, so loos'd forth it I love thee still,

+And therefore pause; but why walkest thou here?"

+

+"Not without purpose once more to return,

+Thou find'st me, my Casella, where I am

+Journeying this way;" I said, "but how of thee

+Hath so much time been lost?"  He answer'd straight:

+"No outrage hath been done to me, if he

+Who when and whom he chooses takes, me oft

+This passage hath denied, since of just will

+His will he makes.  These three months past indeed,

+He, whose chose to enter, with free leave

+Hath taken; whence I wand'ring by the shore

+Where Tyber's wave grows salt, of him gain'd kind

+Admittance, at that river's mouth, tow'rd which

+His wings are pointed, for there always throng

+All such as not to Archeron descend."

+

+Then I: "If new laws have not quite destroy'd

+Memory and use of that sweet song of love,

+That while all my cares had power to 'swage;

+Please thee with it a little to console

+My spirit, that incumber'd with its frame,

+Travelling so far, of pain is overcome."

+

+"Love that discourses in my thoughts."  He then

+Began in such soft accents, that within

+The sweetness thrills me yet.  My gentle guide

+And all who came with him, so well were pleas'd,

+That seem'd naught else might in their thoughts have room.

+

+Fast fix'd in mute attention to his notes

+We stood, when lo! that old man venerable

+Exclaiming, "How is this, ye tardy spirits?

+What negligence detains you loit'ring here?

+Run to the mountain to cast off those scales,

+That from your eyes the sight of God conceal."

+

+As a wild flock of pigeons, to their food

+Collected, blade or tares, without their pride

+Accustom'd, and in still and quiet sort,

+If aught alarm them, suddenly desert

+Their meal, assail'd by more important care;

+So I that new-come troop beheld, the song

+Deserting, hasten to the mountain's side,

+As one who goes yet where he tends knows not.

+

+Nor with less hurried step did we depart.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO III

+

+Them sudden flight had scatter'd over the plain,

+Turn'd tow'rds the mountain, whither reason's voice

+Drives us; I to my faithful company

+Adhering, left it not.  For how of him

+Depriv'd, might I have sped, or who beside

+Would o'er the mountainous tract have led my steps

+He with the bitter pang of self-remorse

+Seem'd smitten.  O clear conscience and upright

+How doth a little fling wound thee sore!

+

+Soon as his feet desisted (slack'ning pace),

+From haste, that mars all decency of act,

+My mind, that in itself before was wrapt,

+Its thoughts expanded, as with joy restor'd:

+And full against the steep ascent I set

+My face, where highest to heav'n its top o'erflows.

+

+The sun, that flar'd behind, with ruddy beam

+Before my form was broken; for in me

+His rays resistance met.  I turn'd aside

+With fear of being left, when I beheld

+Only before myself the ground obscur'd.

+When thus my solace, turning him around,

+Bespake me kindly: "Why distrustest thou?

+Believ'st not I am with thee, thy sure guide?

+It now is evening there, where buried lies

+The body, in which I cast a shade, remov'd

+To Naples from Brundusium's wall.  Nor thou

+Marvel, if before me no shadow fall,

+More than that in the sky element

+One ray obstructs not other.  To endure

+Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames

+That virtue hath dispos'd, which how it works

+Wills not to us should be reveal'd.  Insane

+Who hopes, our reason may that space explore,

+Which holds three persons in one substance knit.

+Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;

+Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been

+For Mary to bring forth.  Moreover ye

+Have seen such men desiring fruitlessly;

+To whose desires repose would have been giv'n,

+That now but serve them for eternal grief.

+I speak of Plato, and the Stagyrite,

+And others many more."  And then he bent

+Downwards his forehead, and in troubled mood

+Broke off his speech.  Meanwhile we had arriv'd

+Far as the mountain's foot, and there the rock

+Found of so steep ascent, that nimblest steps

+To climb it had been vain.  The most remote

+Most wild untrodden path, in all the tract

+'Twixt Lerice and Turbia were to this

+A ladder easy' and open of access.

+

+"Who knows on which hand now the steep declines?"

+My master said and paus'd, "so that he may

+Ascend, who journeys without aid of wine?"

+And while with looks directed to the ground

+The meaning of the pathway he explor'd,

+And I gaz'd upward round the stony height,

+Of spirits, that toward us mov'd their steps,

+Yet moving seem'd not, they so slow approach'd.

+

+I thus my guide address'd: "Upraise thine eyes,

+Lo that way some, of whom thou may'st obtain

+Counsel, if of thyself thou find'st it not!"

+

+Straightway he look'd, and with free speech replied:

+"Let us tend thither: they but softly come.

+And thou be firm in hope, my son belov'd."

+

+Now was that people distant far in space

+A thousand paces behind ours, as much

+As at a throw the nervous arm could fling,

+When all drew backward on the messy crags

+Of the steep bank, and firmly stood unmov'd

+As one who walks in doubt might stand to look.

+

+"O spirits perfect!  O already chosen!"

+Virgil to them began, "by that blest peace,

+Which, as I deem, is for you all prepar'd,

+Instruct us where the mountain low declines,

+So that attempt to mount it be not vain.

+For who knows most, him loss of time most grieves."

+

+As sheep, that step from forth their fold, by one,

+Or pairs, or three at once; meanwhile the rest

+Stand fearfully, bending the eye and nose

+To ground, and what the foremost does, that do

+The others, gath'ring round her, if she stops,

+Simple and quiet, nor the cause discern;

+So saw I moving to advance the first,

+Who of that fortunate crew were at the head,

+Of modest mien and graceful in their gait.

+When they before me had beheld the light

+From my right side fall broken on the ground,

+So that the shadow reach'd the cave, they stopp'd

+And somewhat back retir'd: the same did all,

+Who follow'd, though unweeting of the cause.

+

+"Unask'd of you, yet freely I confess,

+This is a human body which ye see.

+That the sun's light is broken on the ground,

+Marvel not: but believe, that not without

+Virtue deriv'd from Heaven, we to climb

+Over this wall aspire."  So them bespake

+My master; and that virtuous tribe rejoin'd;

+"Turn, and before you there the entrance lies,"

+Making a signal to us with bent hands.

+

+Then of them one began.  "Whoe'er thou art,

+Who journey'st thus this way, thy visage turn,

+Think if me elsewhere thou hast ever seen."

+

+I tow'rds him turn'd, and with fix'd eye beheld.

+Comely, and fair, and gentle of aspect,

+He seem'd, but on one brow a gash was mark'd.

+

+When humbly I disclaim'd to have beheld

+Him ever: "Now behold!"  he said, and show'd

+High on his breast a wound: then smiling spake.

+

+"I am Manfredi, grandson to the Queen

+Costanza: whence I pray thee, when return'd,

+To my fair daughter go, the parent glad

+Of Aragonia and Sicilia's pride;

+And of the truth inform her, if of me

+Aught else be told.  When by two mortal blows

+My frame was shatter'd, I betook myself

+Weeping to him, who of free will forgives.

+My sins were horrible; but so wide arms

+Hath goodness infinite, that it receives

+All who turn to it.  Had this text divine

+Been of Cosenza's shepherd better scann'd,

+Who then by Clement on my hunt was set,

+Yet at the bridge's head my bones had lain,

+Near Benevento, by the heavy mole

+Protected; but the rain now drenches them,

+And the wind drives, out of the kingdom's bounds,

+Far as the stream of Verde, where, with lights

+Extinguish'd, he remov'd them from their bed.

+Yet by their curse we are not so destroy'd,

+But that the eternal love may turn, while hope

+Retains her verdant blossoms.  True it is,

+That such one as in contumacy dies

+Against the holy church, though he repent,

+Must wander thirty-fold for all the time

+In his presumption past; if such decree

+Be not by prayers of good men shorter made

+Look therefore if thou canst advance my bliss;

+Revealing to my good Costanza, how

+Thou hast beheld me, and beside the terms

+Laid on me of that interdict; for here

+By means of those below much profit comes."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO IV

+

+When by sensations of delight or pain,

+That any of our faculties hath seiz'd,

+Entire the soul collects herself, it seems

+She is intent upon that power alone,

+And thus the error is disprov'd which holds

+The soul not singly lighted in the breast.

+And therefore when as aught is heard or seen,

+That firmly keeps the soul toward it turn'd,

+Time passes, and a man perceives it not.

+For that, whereby he hearken, is one power,

+Another that, which the whole spirit hash;

+This is as it were bound, while that is free.

+

+This found I true by proof, hearing that spirit

+And wond'ring; for full fifty steps aloft

+The sun had measur'd unobserv'd of me,

+When we arriv'd where all with one accord

+The spirits shouted, "Here is what ye ask."

+

+A larger aperture ofttimes is stopp'd

+With forked stake of thorn by villager,

+When the ripe grape imbrowns, than was the path,

+By which my guide, and I behind him close,

+Ascended solitary, when that troop

+Departing left us.  On Sanleo's road

+Who journeys, or to Noli low descends,

+Or mounts Bismantua's height, must use his feet;

+But here a man had need to fly, I mean

+With the swift wing and plumes of high desire,

+Conducted by his aid, who gave me hope,

+And with light furnish'd to direct my way.

+

+We through the broken rock ascended, close

+Pent on each side, while underneath the ground

+Ask'd help of hands and feet.  When we arriv'd

+Near on the highest ridge of the steep bank,

+Where the plain level open'd I exclaim'd,

+"O master! say which way can we proceed?"

+

+He answer'd, "Let no step of thine recede.

+Behind me gain the mountain, till to us

+Some practis'd guide appear."  That eminence

+Was lofty that no eye might reach its point,

+And the side proudly rising, more than line

+From the mid quadrant to the centre drawn.

+I wearied thus began: "Parent belov'd!

+Turn, and behold how I remain alone,

+If thou stay not."--" My son!"  He straight reply'd,

+"Thus far put forth thy strength;" and to a track

+Pointed, that, on this side projecting, round

+Circles the hill.  His words so spurr'd me on,

+That I behind him clamb'ring, forc'd myself,

+Till my feet press'd the circuit plain beneath.

+There both together seated, turn'd we round

+To eastward, whence was our ascent: and oft

+Many beside have with delight look'd back.

+

+First on the nether shores I turn'd my eyes,

+Then rais'd them to the sun, and wond'ring mark'd

+That from the left it smote us.  Soon perceiv'd

+That Poet sage now at the car of light

+Amaz'd I stood, where 'twixt us and the north

+Its course it enter'd.  Whence he thus to me:

+"Were Leda's offspring now in company

+Of that broad mirror, that high up and low

+Imparts his light beneath, thou might'st behold

+The ruddy zodiac nearer to the bears

+Wheel, if its ancient course it not forsook.

+How that may be if thou would'st think; within

+Pond'ring, imagine Sion with this mount

+Plac'd on the earth, so that to both be one

+Horizon, and two hemispheres apart,

+Where lies the path that Phaeton ill knew

+To guide his erring chariot: thou wilt see

+How of necessity by this on one

+He passes, while by that on the' other side,

+If with clear view shine intellect attend."

+

+"Of truth, kind teacher!"  I exclaim'd, "so clear

+Aught saw I never, as I now discern

+Where seem'd my ken to fail, that the mid orb

+Of the supernal motion (which in terms

+Of art is called the Equator, and remains

+Ever between the sun and winter) for the cause

+Thou hast assign'd, from hence toward the north

+Departs, when those who in the Hebrew land

+Inhabit, see it tow'rds the warmer part.

+But if it please thee, I would gladly know,

+How far we have to journey: for the hill

+Mounts higher, than this sight of mine can mount."

+

+He thus to me: "Such is this steep ascent,

+That it is ever difficult at first,

+But, more a man proceeds, less evil grows.

+When pleasant it shall seem to thee, so much

+That upward going shall be easy to thee.

+As in a vessel to go down the tide,

+Then of this path thou wilt have reach'd the end.

+There hope to rest thee from thy toil.  No more

+I answer, and thus far for certain know."

+As he his words had spoken, near to us

+A voice there sounded: "Yet ye first perchance

+May to repose you by constraint be led."

+At sound thereof each turn'd, and on the left

+A huge stone we beheld, of which nor I

+Nor he before was ware.  Thither we drew,

+find there were some, who in the shady place

+Behind the rock were standing, as a man

+Thru' idleness might stand.  Among them one,

+Who seem'd to me much wearied, sat him down,

+And with his arms did fold his knees about,

+Holding his face between them downward bent.

+

+"Sweet Sir!"  I cry'd, "behold that man, who shows

+Himself more idle, than if laziness

+Were sister to him."  Straight he turn'd to us,

+And, o'er the thigh lifting his face, observ'd,

+Then in these accents spake: "Up then, proceed

+Thou valiant one."  Straight who it was I knew;

+Nor could the pain I felt (for want of breath

+Still somewhat urg'd me) hinder my approach.

+And when I came to him, he scarce his head

+Uplifted, saying "Well hast thou discern'd,

+How from the left the sun his chariot leads."

+

+His lazy acts and broken words my lips

+To laughter somewhat mov'd; when I began:

+"Belacqua, now for thee I grieve no more.

+But tell, why thou art seated upright there?

+Waitest thou escort to conduct thee hence?

+Or blame I only shine accustom'd ways?"

+Then he: "My brother, of what use to mount,

+When to my suffering would not let me pass

+The bird of God, who at the portal sits?

+Behooves so long that heav'n first bear me round

+Without its limits, as in life it bore,

+Because I to the end repentant Sighs

+Delay'd, if prayer do not aid me first,

+That riseth up from heart which lives in grace.

+What other kind avails, not heard in heaven?"'

+

+Before me now the Poet up the mount

+Ascending, cried: "Haste thee, for see the sun

+Has touch'd the point meridian, and the night

+Now covers with her foot Marocco's shore."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO V

+

+Now had I left those spirits, and pursued

+The steps of my Conductor, when beheld

+Pointing the finger at me one exclaim'd:

+"See how it seems as if the light not shone

+From the left hand of him beneath, and he,

+As living, seems to be led on."  Mine eyes

+I at that sound reverting, saw them gaze

+Through wonder first at me, and then at me

+And the light broken underneath, by turns.

+"Why are thy thoughts thus riveted?"  my guide

+Exclaim'd, "that thou hast slack'd thy pace? or how

+Imports it thee, what thing is whisper'd here?

+Come after me, and to their babblings leave

+The crowd. Be as a tower, that, firmly set,

+Shakes not its top for any blast that blows!

+He, in whose bosom thought on thought shoots out,

+Still of his aim is wide, in that the one

+Sicklies and wastes to nought the other's strength."

+

+What other could I answer save "I come?"

+I said it, somewhat with that colour ting'd

+Which ofttimes pardon meriteth for man.

+

+Meanwhile traverse along the hill there came,

+A little way before us, some who sang

+The "Miserere" in responsive Strains.

+When they perceiv'd that through my body I

+Gave way not for the rays to pass, their song

+Straight to a long and hoarse exclaim they chang'd;

+And two of them, in guise of messengers,

+Ran on to meet us, and inquiring ask'd:

+"Of your condition we would gladly learn."

+

+To them my guide.  "Ye may return, and bear

+Tidings to them who sent you, that his frame

+Is real flesh.  If, as I deem, to view

+His shade they paus'd, enough is answer'd them.

+Him let them honour, they may prize him well."

+

+Ne'er saw I fiery vapours with such speed

+Cut through the serene air at fall of night,

+Nor August's clouds athwart the setting sun,

+That upward these did not in shorter space

+Return; and, there arriving, with the rest

+Wheel back on us, as with loose rein a troop.

+

+"Many," exclaim'd the bard, "are these, who throng

+Around us: to petition thee they come.

+Go therefore on, and listen as thou go'st."

+

+"O spirit! who go'st on to blessedness

+With the same limbs, that clad thee at thy birth."

+Shouting they came, "a little rest thy step.

+Look if thou any one amongst our tribe

+Hast e'er beheld, that tidings of him there

+Thou mayst report.  Ah, wherefore go'st thou on?

+Ah wherefore tarriest thou not?  We all

+By violence died, and to our latest hour

+Were sinners, but then warn'd by light from heav'n,

+So that, repenting and forgiving, we

+Did issue out of life at peace with God,

+Who with desire to see him fills our heart."

+

+Then I: "The visages of all I scan

+Yet none of ye remember.  But if aught,

+That I can do, may please you, gentle spirits!

+Speak; and I will perform it, by that peace,

+Which on the steps of guide so excellent

+Following from world to world intent I seek."

+

+In answer he began: "None here distrusts

+Thy kindness, though not promis'd with an oath;

+So as the will fail not for want of power.

+Whence I, who sole before the others speak,

+Entreat thee, if thou ever see that land,

+Which lies between Romagna and the realm

+Of Charles, that of thy courtesy thou pray

+Those who inhabit Fano, that for me

+Their adorations duly be put up,

+By which I may purge off my grievous sins.

+From thence I came.  But the deep passages,

+Whence issued out the blood wherein I dwelt,

+Upon my bosom in Antenor's land

+Were made, where to be more secure I thought.

+The author of the deed was Este's prince,

+Who, more than right could warrant, with his wrath

+Pursued me.  Had I towards Mira fled,

+When overta'en at Oriaco, still

+Might I have breath'd. But to the marsh I sped,

+And in the mire and rushes tangled there

+Fell, and beheld my life-blood float the plain."

+

+Then said another: "Ah! so may the wish,

+That takes thee o'er the mountain, be fulfill'd,

+As thou shalt graciously give aid to mine.

+Of Montefeltro I; Buonconte I:

+Giovanna nor none else have care for me,

+Sorrowing with these I therefore go."  I thus:

+"From Campaldino's field what force or chance

+Drew thee, that ne'er thy sepulture was known?"

+

+"Oh!"  answer'd he, "at Casentino's foot

+A stream there courseth, nam'd Archiano, sprung

+In Apennine above the Hermit's seat.

+E'en where its name is cancel'd, there came I,

+Pierc'd in the heart, fleeing away on foot,

+And bloodying the plain.  Here sight and speech

+Fail'd me, and finishing with Mary's name

+I fell, and tenantless my flesh remain'd.

+I will report the truth; which thou again

+Tell to the living.  Me God's angel took,

+Whilst he of hell exclaim'd: "O thou from heav'n!

+Say wherefore hast thou robb'd me?  Thou of him

+Th' eternal portion bear'st with thee away

+For one poor tear that he deprives me of.

+But of the other, other rule I make."

+

+"Thou knowest how in the atmosphere collects

+That vapour dank, returning into water,

+Soon as it mounts where cold condenses it.

+That evil will, which in his intellect

+Still follows evil, came, and rais'd the wind

+And smoky mist, by virtue of the power

+Given by his nature.  Thence the valley, soon

+As day was spent, he cover'd o'er with cloud

+From Pratomagno to the mountain range,

+And stretch'd the sky above, so that the air

+Impregnate chang'd to water.  Fell the rain,

+And to the fosses came all that the land

+Contain'd not; and, as mightiest streams are wont,

+To the great river with such headlong sweep

+Rush'd, that nought stay'd its course.  My stiffen'd frame

+Laid at his mouth the fell Archiano found,

+And dash'd it into Arno, from my breast

+Loos'ning the cross, that of myself I made

+When overcome with pain.  He hurl'd me on,

+Along the banks and bottom of his course;

+Then in his muddy spoils encircling wrapt."

+

+"Ah! when thou to the world shalt be return'd,

+And rested after thy long road," so spake

+Next the third spirit; "then remember me.

+I once was Pia.  Sienna gave me life,

+Maremma took it from me.  That he knows,

+Who me with jewell'd ring had first espous'd."

+

+

+CANTO VI

+

+When from their game of dice men separate,

+He, who hath lost, remains in sadness fix'd,

+Revolving in his mind, what luckless throws

+He cast: but meanwhile all the company

+Go with the other; one before him runs,

+And one behind his mantle twitches, one

+Fast by his side bids him remember him.

+He stops not; and each one, to whom his hand

+Is stretch'd, well knows he bids him stand aside;

+And thus he from the press defends himself.

+E'en such was I in that close-crowding throng;

+And turning so my face around to all,

+And promising, I 'scap'd from it with pains.

+

+Here of Arezzo him I saw, who fell

+By Ghino's cruel arm; and him beside,

+Who in his chase was swallow'd by the stream.

+Here Frederic Novello, with his hand

+Stretch'd forth, entreated; and of Pisa he,

+Who put the good Marzuco to such proof

+Of constancy.  Count Orso I beheld;

+And from its frame a soul dismiss'd for spite

+And envy, as it said, but for no crime:

+I speak of Peter de la Brosse; and here,

+While she yet lives, that Lady of Brabant

+Let her beware; lest for so false a deed

+She herd with worse than these. When I was freed

+From all those spirits, who pray'd for others' prayers

+To hasten on their state of blessedness;

+Straight I began: "O thou, my luminary!

+It seems expressly in thy text denied,

+That heaven's supreme decree can never bend

+To supplication; yet with this design

+Do these entreat.  Can then their hope be vain,

+Or is thy saying not to me reveal'd?"

+

+He thus to me: "Both what I write is plain,

+And these deceiv'd not in their hope, if well

+Thy mind consider, that the sacred height

+Of judgment doth not stoop, because love's flame

+In a short moment all fulfils, which he

+Who sojourns here, in right should satisfy.

+Besides, when I this point concluded thus,

+By praying no defect could be supplied;

+Because the pray'r had none access to God.

+Yet in this deep suspicion rest thou not

+Contented unless she assure thee so,

+Who betwixt truth and mind infuses light.

+I know not if thou take me right; I mean

+Beatrice.  Her thou shalt behold above,

+Upon this mountain's crown, fair seat of joy."

+

+Then I: "Sir! let us mend our speed; for now

+I tire not as before; and lo! the hill

+Stretches its shadow far."  He answer'd thus:

+"Our progress with this day shall be as much

+As we may now dispatch; but otherwise

+Than thou supposest is the truth.  For there

+Thou canst not be, ere thou once more behold

+Him back returning, who behind the steep

+Is now so hidden, that as erst his beam

+Thou dost not break.  But lo! a spirit there

+Stands solitary, and toward us looks:

+It will instruct us in the speediest way."

+

+We soon approach'd it.  O thou Lombard spirit!

+How didst thou stand, in high abstracted mood,

+Scarce moving with slow dignity thine eyes!

+It spoke not aught, but let us onward pass,

+Eyeing us as a lion on his watch.

+But Virgil with entreaty mild advanc'd,

+Requesting it to show the best ascent.

+It answer to his question none return'd,

+But of our country and our kind of life

+Demanded.  When my courteous guide began,

+"Mantua," the solitary shadow quick

+Rose towards us from the place in which it stood,

+And cry'd, "Mantuan! I am thy countryman

+Sordello."  Each the other then embrac'd.

+

+Ah slavish Italy! thou inn of grief,

+Vessel without a pilot in loud storm,

+Lady no longer of fair provinces,

+But brothel-house impure! this gentle spirit,

+Ev'n from the Pleasant sound of his dear land

+Was prompt to greet a fellow citizen

+With such glad cheer; while now thy living ones

+In thee abide not without war; and one

+Malicious gnaws another, ay of those

+Whom the same wall and the same moat contains,

+Seek, wretched one! around thy sea-coasts wide;

+Then homeward to thy bosom turn, and mark

+If any part of the sweet peace enjoy.

+What boots it, that thy reins Justinian's hand

+Befitted, if thy saddle be unpress'd?

+Nought doth he now but aggravate thy shame.

+Ah people! thou obedient still shouldst live,

+And in the saddle let thy Caesar sit,

+If well thou marked'st that which God commands.

+

+Look how that beast to felness hath relaps'd

+From having lost correction of the spur,

+Since to the bridle thou hast set thine hand,

+O German Albert! who abandon'st her,

+That is grown savage and unmanageable,

+When thou should'st clasp her flanks with forked heels.

+Just judgment from the stars fall on thy blood!

+And be it strange and manifest to all!

+Such as may strike thy successor with dread!

+For that thy sire and thou have suffer'd thus,

+Through greediness of yonder realms detain'd,

+The garden of the empire to run waste.

+Come see the Capulets and Montagues,

+The Philippeschi and Monaldi! man

+Who car'st for nought! those sunk in grief, and these

+With dire suspicion rack'd. Come, cruel one!

+Come and behold the' oppression of the nobles,

+And mark their injuries: and thou mayst see.

+What safety Santafiore can supply.

+Come and behold thy Rome, who calls on thee,

+Desolate widow! day and night with moans:

+"My Caesar, why dost thou desert my side?"

+Come and behold what love among thy people:

+And if no pity touches thee for us,

+Come and blush for thine own report.  For me,

+If it be lawful, O Almighty Power,

+Who wast in earth for our sakes crucified!

+Are thy just eyes turn'd elsewhere? or is this

+A preparation in the wond'rous depth

+Of thy sage counsel made, for some good end,

+Entirely from our reach of thought cut off?

+So are the' Italian cities all o'erthrong'd

+With tyrants, and a great Marcellus made

+Of every petty factious villager.

+

+My Florence! thou mayst well remain unmov'd

+At this digression, which affects not thee:

+Thanks to thy people, who so wisely speed.

+Many have justice in their heart, that long

+Waiteth for counsel to direct the bow,

+Or ere it dart unto its aim: but shine

+Have it on their lip's edge.  Many refuse

+To bear the common burdens: readier thine

+Answer uneall'd, and cry, "Behold I stoop!"

+

+Make thyself glad, for thou hast reason now,

+Thou wealthy! thou at peace! thou wisdom-fraught!

+Facts best witness if I speak the truth.

+Athens and Lacedaemon, who of old

+Enacted laws, for civil arts renown'd,

+Made little progress in improving life

+Tow'rds thee, who usest such nice subtlety,

+That to the middle of November scarce

+Reaches the thread thou in October weav'st.

+How many times, within thy memory,

+Customs, and laws, and coins, and offices

+Have been by thee renew'd, and people chang'd!

+

+If thou remember'st well and can'st see clear,

+Thou wilt perceive thyself like a sick wretch,

+Who finds no rest upon her down, but oft

+Shifting her side, short respite seeks from pain.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO VII

+

+After their courteous greetings joyfully

+Sev'n times exchang'd, Sordello backward drew

+Exclaiming, "Who are ye?"  "Before this mount

+By spirits worthy of ascent to God

+Was sought, my bones had by Octavius' care

+Been buried.  I am Virgil, for no sin

+Depriv'd of heav'n, except for lack of faith."

+

+So answer'd him in few my gentle guide.

+

+As one, who aught before him suddenly

+Beholding, whence his wonder riseth, cries

+"It is yet is not," wav'ring in belief;

+Such he appear'd; then downward bent his eyes,

+And drawing near with reverential step,

+Caught him, where of mean estate might clasp

+His lord.  "Glory of Latium!" he exclaim'd,

+"In whom our tongue its utmost power display'd!

+Boast of my honor'd birth-place! what desert

+Of mine, what favour rather undeserv'd,

+Shows thee to me?  If I to hear that voice

+Am worthy, say if from below thou com'st

+And from what cloister's pale?"--"Through every orb

+Of that sad region," he reply'd, "thus far

+Am I arriv'd, by heav'nly influence led

+And with such aid I come.  There is a place

+There underneath, not made by torments sad,

+But by dun shades alone; where mourning's voice

+Sounds not of anguish sharp, but breathes in sighs.

+

+"There I with little innocents abide,

+Who by death's fangs were bitten, ere exempt

+From human taint.  There I with those abide,

+Who the three holy virtues put not on,

+But understood the rest, and without blame

+Follow'd them all.  But if thou know'st and canst,

+Direct us, how we soonest may arrive,

+Where Purgatory its true beginning takes."

+

+He answer'd thus: "We have no certain place

+Assign'd us: upwards I may go or round,

+Far as I can, I join thee for thy guide.

+But thou beholdest now how day declines:

+And upwards to proceed by night, our power

+Excels: therefore it may be well to choose

+A place of pleasant sojourn.  To the right

+Some spirits sit apart retir'd.  If thou

+Consentest, I to these will lead thy steps:

+And thou wilt know them, not without delight."

+

+"How chances this?"  was answer'd; "who so wish'd

+To ascend by night, would he be thence debarr'd

+By other, or through his own weakness fail?"

+

+The good Sordello then, along the ground

+Trailing his finger, spoke: "Only this line

+Thou shalt not overpass, soon as the sun

+Hath disappear'd; not that aught else impedes

+Thy going upwards, save the shades of night.

+These with the wont of power perplex the will.

+With them thou haply mightst return beneath,

+Or to and fro around the mountain's side

+Wander, while day is in the horizon shut."

+

+My master straight, as wond'ring at his speech,

+Exclaim'd: "Then lead us quickly, where thou sayst,

+That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight."

+

+A little space we were remov'd from thence,

+When I perceiv'd the mountain hollow'd out.

+Ev'n as large valleys hollow'd out on earth,

+

+"That way," the' escorting spirit cried, "we go,

+Where in a bosom the high bank recedes:

+And thou await renewal of the day."

+

+Betwixt the steep and plain a crooked path

+Led us traverse into the ridge's side,

+Where more than half the sloping edge expires.

+Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refin'd,

+And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood

+Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds

+But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers

+Plac'd in that fair recess, in color all

+Had been surpass'd, as great surpasses less.

+Nor nature only there lavish'd her hues,

+But of the sweetness of a thousand smells

+A rare and undistinguish'd fragrance made.

+

+"Salve Regina," on the grass and flowers

+Here chanting I beheld those spirits sit

+Who not beyond the valley could be seen.

+

+"Before the west'ring sun sink to his bed,"

+Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn'd,

+

+"'Mid those desires not that I lead ye on.

+For from this eminence ye shall discern

+Better the acts and visages of all,

+Than in the nether vale among them mix'd.

+He, who sits high above the rest, and seems

+To have neglected that he should have done,

+And to the others' song moves not his lip,

+The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal'd

+The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,

+So that by others she revives but slowly,

+He, who with kindly visage comforts him,

+Sway'd in that country, where the water springs,

+That Moldaw's river to the Elbe, and Elbe

+Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar his name:

+Who in his swaddling clothes was of more worth

+Than Winceslaus his son, a bearded man,

+Pamper'd with rank luxuriousness and ease.

+And that one with the nose depress, who close

+In counsel seems with him of gentle look,

+Flying expir'd, with'ring the lily's flower.

+Look there how he doth knock against his breast!

+The other ye behold, who for his cheek

+Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent sighs.

+They are the father and the father-in-law

+Of Gallia's bane: his vicious life they know

+And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus.

+

+"He, so robust of limb, who measure keeps

+In song, with him of feature prominent,

+With ev'ry virtue bore his girdle brac'd.

+And if that stripling who behinds him sits,

+King after him had liv'd, his virtue then

+From vessel to like vessel had been pour'd;

+Which may not of the other heirs be said.

+By James and Frederick his realms are held;

+Neither the better heritage obtains.

+Rarely into the branches of the tree

+Doth human worth mount up; and so ordains

+He who bestows it, that as his free gift

+It may be call'd.  To Charles my words apply

+No less than to his brother in the song;

+Which Pouille and Provence now with grief confess.

+So much that plant degenerates from its seed,

+As more than Beatrice and Margaret

+Costanza still boasts of her valorous spouse.

+

+"Behold the king of simple life and plain,

+Harry of England, sitting there alone:

+He through his branches better issue spreads.

+

+"That one, who on the ground beneath the rest

+Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft,

+Us William, that brave Marquis, for whose cause

+The deed of Alexandria and his war

+Makes Conferrat and Canavese weep."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO VIII

+

+Now was the hour that wakens fond desire

+In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart,

+Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,

+And pilgrim newly on his road with love

+Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far,

+That seems to mourn for the expiring day:

+When I, no longer taking heed to hear

+Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark

+One risen from its seat, which with its hand

+Audience implor'd. Both palms it join'd and rais'd,

+Fixing its steadfast gaze towards the east,

+As telling God, "I care for naught beside."

+

+"Te Lucis Ante," so devoutly then

+Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain,

+That all my sense in ravishment was lost.

+And the rest after, softly and devout,

+Follow'd through all the hymn, with upward gaze

+Directed to the bright supernal wheels.

+

+Here, reader! for the truth makes thine eyes keen:

+For of so subtle texture is this veil,

+That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark'd.

+

+I saw that gentle band silently next

+Look up, as if in expectation held,

+Pale and in lowly guise; and from on high

+I saw forth issuing descend beneath

+Two angels with two flame-illumin'd swords,

+Broken and mutilated at their points.

+Green as the tender leaves but newly born,

+Their vesture was, the which by wings as green

+Beaten, they drew behind them, fann'd in air.

+A little over us one took his stand,

+The other lighted on the' Opposing hill,

+So that the troop were in the midst contain'd.

+

+Well I descried the whiteness on their heads;

+But in their visages the dazzled eye

+Was lost, as faculty that by too much

+Is overpower'd.  "From Mary's bosom both

+Are come," exclaim'd Sordello, "as a guard

+Over the vale, ganst him, who hither tends,

+The serpent."  Whence, not knowing by which path

+He came, I turn'd me round, and closely press'd,

+All frozen, to my leader's trusted side.

+

+Sordello paus'd not: "To the valley now

+(For it is time) let us descend; and hold

+Converse with those great shadows: haply much

+Their sight may please ye."  Only three steps down

+Methinks I measur'd, ere I was beneath,

+And noted one who look'd as with desire

+To know me.  Time was now that air arrow dim;

+Yet not so dim, that 'twixt his eyes and mine

+It clear'd not up what was conceal'd before.

+Mutually tow'rds each other we advanc'd.

+Nino, thou courteous judge! what joy I felt,

+When I perceiv'd thou wert not with the bad!

+

+No salutation kind on either part

+Was left unsaid.  He then inquir'd: "How long

+Since thou arrived'st at the mountain's foot,

+Over the distant waves?"--"O!" answer'd I,

+"Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came,

+And still in my first life, thus journeying on,

+The other strive to gain."  Soon as they heard

+My words, he and Sordello backward drew,

+As suddenly amaz'd.  To Virgil one,

+The other to a spirit turn'd, who near

+Was seated, crying: "Conrad! up with speed:

+Come, see what of his grace high God hath will'd."

+Then turning round to me: "By that rare mark

+Of honour which thou ow'st to him, who hides

+So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford,

+When thou shalt be beyond the vast of waves.

+Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call

+There, where reply to innocence is made.

+Her mother, I believe, loves me no more;

+Since she has chang'd the white and wimpled folds,

+Which she is doom'd once more with grief to wish.

+By her it easily may be perceiv'd,

+How long in women lasts the flame of love,

+If sight and touch do not relume it oft.

+For her so fair a burial will not make

+The viper which calls Milan to the field,

+As had been made by shrill Gallura's bird."

+

+He spoke, and in his visage took the stamp

+Of that right seal, which with due temperature

+Glows in the bosom.  My insatiate eyes

+Meanwhile to heav'n had travel'd, even there

+Where the bright stars are slowest, as a wheel

+Nearest the axle; when my guide inquir'd:

+"What there aloft, my son, has caught thy gaze?"

+

+I answer'd: "The three torches, with which here

+The pole is all on fire."  He then to me:

+"The four resplendent stars, thou saw'st this morn

+Are there beneath, and these ris'n in their stead."

+

+While yet he spoke.  Sordello to himself

+Drew him, and cry'd: "Lo there our enemy!"

+And with his hand pointed that way to look.

+

+Along the side, where barrier none arose

+Around the little vale, a serpent lay,

+Such haply as gave Eve the bitter food.

+Between the grass and flowers, the evil snake

+Came on, reverting oft his lifted head;

+And, as a beast that smoothes its polish'd coat,

+Licking his hack.  I saw not, nor can tell,

+How those celestial falcons from their seat

+Mov'd, but in motion each one well descried,

+Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes.

+The serpent fled; and to their stations back

+The angels up return'd with equal flight.

+

+The Spirit (who to Nino, when he call'd,

+Had come), from viewing me with fixed ken,

+Through all that conflict, loosen'd not his sight.

+

+"So may the lamp, which leads thee up on high,

+Find, in thy destin'd lot, of wax so much,

+As may suffice thee to the enamel's height."

+It thus began: "If any certain news

+Of Valdimagra and the neighbour part

+Thou know'st, tell me, who once was mighty there

+They call'd me Conrad Malaspina, not

+That old one, but from him I sprang.  The love

+I bore my people is now here refin'd."

+

+"In your dominions," I answer'd, "ne'er was I.

+But through all Europe where do those men dwell,

+To whom their glory is not manifest?

+The fame, that honours your illustrious house,

+Proclaims the nobles and proclaims the land;

+So that he knows it who was never there.

+I swear to you, so may my upward route

+Prosper! your honour'd nation not impairs

+The value of her coffer and her sword.

+Nature and use give her such privilege,

+That while the world is twisted from his course

+By a bad head, she only walks aright,

+And has the evil way in scorn."  He then:

+"Now pass thee on: sev'n times the tired sun

+Revisits not the couch, which with four feet

+The forked Aries covers, ere that kind

+Opinion shall be nail'd into thy brain

+With stronger nails than other's speech can drive,

+If the sure course of judgment be not stay'd."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO IX

+

+Now the fair consort of Tithonus old,

+Arisen from her mate's beloved arms,

+Look'd palely o'er the eastern cliff: her brow,

+Lucent with jewels, glitter'd, set in sign

+Of that chill animal, who with his train

+Smites fearful nations: and where then we were,

+Two steps of her ascent the night had past,

+And now the third was closing up its wing,

+When I, who had so much of Adam with me,

+Sank down upon the grass, o'ercome with sleep,

+There where all five were seated.  In that hour,

+When near the dawn the swallow her sad lay,

+Rememb'ring haply ancient grief, renews,

+And with our minds more wand'rers from the flesh,

+And less by thought restrain'd are, as 't were, full

+Of holy divination in their dreams,

+Then in a vision did I seem to view

+A golden-feather'd eagle in the sky,

+With open wings, and hov'ring for descent,

+And I was in that place, methought, from whence

+Young Ganymede, from his associates 'reft,

+Was snatch'd aloft to the high consistory.

+"Perhaps," thought I within me, "here alone

+He strikes his quarry, and elsewhere disdains

+To pounce upon the prey."  Therewith, it seem'd,

+A little wheeling in his airy tour

+Terrible as the lightning rush'd he down,

+And snatch'd me upward even to the fire.

+

+There both, I thought, the eagle and myself

+Did burn; and so intense th' imagin'd flames,

+That needs my sleep was broken off.  As erst

+Achilles shook himself, and round him roll'd

+His waken'd eyeballs wond'ring where he was,

+Whenas his mother had from Chiron fled

+To Scyros, with him sleeping in her arms;

+E'en thus I shook me, soon as from my face

+The slumber parted, turning deadly pale,

+Like one ice-struck with dread.  Solo at my side

+My comfort stood: and the bright sun was now

+More than two hours aloft: and to the sea

+My looks were turn'd.  "Fear not," my master cried,

+"Assur'd we are at happy point.  Thy strength

+Shrink not, but rise dilated.  Thou art come

+To Purgatory now.  Lo! there the cliff

+That circling bounds it!  Lo! the entrance there,

+Where it doth seem disparted! re the dawn

+Usher'd the daylight, when thy wearied soul

+Slept in thee, o'er the flowery vale beneath

+A lady came, and thus bespake me: "I

+Am Lucia.  Suffer me to take this man,

+Who slumbers.  Easier so his way shall speed."

+Sordello and the other gentle shapes

+Tarrying, she bare thee up: and, as day shone,

+This summit reach'd: and I pursued her steps.

+Here did she place thee.  First her lovely eyes

+That open entrance show'd me; then at once

+She vanish'd with thy sleep.  Like one, whose doubts

+Are chas'd by certainty, and terror turn'd

+To comfort on discovery of the truth,

+Such was the change in me: and as my guide

+Beheld me fearless, up along the cliff

+He mov'd, and I behind him, towards the height.

+

+Reader! thou markest how my theme doth rise,

+Nor wonder therefore, if more artfully

+I prop the structure! nearer now we drew,

+Arriv'd' whence in that part, where first a breach

+As of a wall appear'd, I could descry

+A portal, and three steps beneath, that led

+For inlet there, of different colour each,

+And one who watch'd, but spake not yet a word.

+As more and more mine eye did stretch its view,

+I mark'd him seated on the highest step,

+In visage such, as past my power to bear.

+

+Grasp'd in his hand a naked sword, glanc'd back

+The rays so toward me, that I oft in vain

+My sight directed.  "Speak from whence ye stand:"

+He cried: "What would ye?  Where is your escort?

+Take heed your coming upward harm ye not."

+

+"A heavenly dame, not skilless of these things,"

+Replied the' instructor, "told us, even now,

+"Pass that way: here the gate is." --"And may she

+Befriending prosper your ascent," resum'd

+The courteous keeper of the gate: "Come then

+Before our steps."  We straightway thither came.

+

+The lowest stair was marble white so smooth

+And polish'd, that therein my mirror'd form

+Distinct I saw.  The next of hue more dark

+Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block,

+Crack'd lengthwise and across.  The third, that lay

+Massy above, seem'd porphyry, that flam'd

+Red as the life-blood spouting from a vein.

+On this God's angel either foot sustain'd,

+Upon the threshold seated, which appear'd

+A rock of diamond.  Up the trinal steps

+My leader cheerily drew me.  "Ask," said he,

+

+"With humble heart, that he unbar the bolt."

+

+Piously at his holy feet devolv'd

+I cast me, praying him for pity's sake

+That he would open to me: but first fell

+Thrice on my bosom prostrate.  Seven times

+The letter, that denotes the inward stain,

+He on my forehead with the blunted point

+Of his drawn sword inscrib'd.  And "Look," he cried,

+"When enter'd, that thou wash these scars away."

+

+Ashes, or earth ta'en dry out of the ground,

+Were of one colour with the robe he wore.

+From underneath that vestment forth he drew

+Two keys of metal twain: the one was gold,

+Its fellow silver.  With the pallid first,

+And next the burnish'd, he so ply'd the gate,

+As to content me well.  "Whenever one

+Faileth of these, that in the keyhole straight

+It turn not, to this alley then expect

+Access in vain."  Such were the words he spake.

+"One is more precious: but the other needs

+Skill and sagacity, large share of each,

+Ere its good task to disengage the knot

+Be worthily perform'd.  From Peter these

+I hold, of him instructed, that I err

+Rather in opening than in keeping fast;

+So but the suppliant at my feet implore."

+

+Then of that hallow'd gate he thrust the door,

+Exclaiming, "Enter, but this warning hear:

+He forth again departs who looks behind."

+

+As in the hinges of that sacred ward

+The swivels turn'd, sonorous metal strong,

+Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily

+Roar'd the Tarpeian, when by force bereft

+Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss

+To leanness doom'd.  Attentively I turn'd,

+List'ning the thunder, that first issued forth;

+And "We praise thee, O God," methought I heard

+In accents blended with sweet melody.

+The strains came o'er mine ear, e'en as the sound

+Of choral voices, that in solemn chant

+With organ mingle, and, now high and clear,

+Come swelling, now float indistinct away.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO X

+

+When we had passed the threshold of the gate

+(Which the soul's ill affection doth disuse,

+Making the crooked seem the straighter path),

+I heard its closing sound.  Had mine eyes turn'd,

+For that offence what plea might have avail'd?

+

+We mounted up the riven rock, that wound

+On either side alternate, as the wave

+Flies and advances.  "Here some little art

+Behooves us," said my leader, "that our steps

+Observe the varying flexure of the path."

+

+Thus we so slowly sped, that with cleft orb

+The moon once more o'erhangs her wat'ry couch,

+Ere we that strait have threaded.  But when free

+We came and open, where the mount above

+One solid mass retires, I spent, with toil,

+And both, uncertain of the way, we stood,

+Upon a plain more lonesome, than the roads

+That traverse desert wilds.  From whence the brink

+Borders upon vacuity, to foot

+Of the steep bank, that rises still, the space

+Had measur'd thrice the stature of a man:

+And, distant as mine eye could wing its flight,

+To leftward now and now to right dispatch'd,

+That cornice equal in extent appear'd.

+

+Not yet our feet had on that summit mov'd,

+When I discover'd that the bank around,

+Whose proud uprising all ascent denied,

+Was marble white, and so exactly wrought

+With quaintest sculpture, that not there alone

+Had Polycletus, but e'en nature's self

+Been sham'd.  The angel who came down to earth

+With tidings of the peace so many years

+Wept for in vain, that op'd the heavenly gates

+From their long interdict, before us seem'd,

+In a sweet act, so sculptur'd to the life,

+He look'd no silent image. One had sworn

+He had said, "Hail!" for she was imag'd there,

+By whom the key did open to God's love,

+And in her act as sensibly impress

+That word, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord,"

+As figure seal'd on wax.  "Fix not thy mind

+On one place only," said the guide belov'd,

+Who had me near him on that part where lies

+The heart of man.  My sight forthwith I turn'd

+And mark'd, behind the virgin mother's form,

+Upon that side, where he, that mov'd me, stood,

+Another story graven on the rock.

+

+I passed athwart the bard, and drew me near,

+That it might stand more aptly for my view.

+There in the self-same marble were engrav'd

+The cart and kine, drawing the sacred ark,

+That from unbidden office awes mankind.

+Before it came much people; and the whole

+Parted in seven quires.  One sense cried, "Nay,"

+Another, "Yes, they sing."  Like doubt arose

+Betwixt the eye and smell, from the curl'd fume

+Of incense breathing up the well-wrought toil.

+Preceding the blest vessel, onward came

+With light dance leaping, girt in humble guise,

+Sweet Israel's harper: in that hap he seem'd

+Less and yet more than kingly.  Opposite,

+At a great palace, from the lattice forth

+Look'd Michol, like a lady full of scorn

+And sorrow.  To behold the tablet next,

+Which at the hack of Michol whitely shone,

+I mov'd me.  There was storied on the rock

+The' exalted glory of the Roman prince,

+Whose mighty worth mov'd Gregory to earn

+His mighty conquest, Trajan th' Emperor.

+A widow at his bridle stood, attir'd

+In tears and mourning.  Round about them troop'd

+Full throng of knights, and overhead in gold

+The eagles floated, struggling with the wind.

+

+The wretch appear'd amid all these to say:

+"Grant vengeance, sire! for, woe beshrew this heart

+My son is murder'd."  He replying seem'd;

+

+"Wait now till I return." And she, as one

+Made hasty by her grief; "O sire, if thou

+Dost not return?"--"Where I am, who then is,

+May right thee."--"What to thee is other's good,

+If thou neglect thy own?"--"Now comfort thee,"

+At length he answers.  "It beseemeth well

+My duty be perform'd, ere I move hence:

+So justice wills; and pity bids me stay."

+

+He, whose ken nothing new surveys, produc'd

+That visible speaking, new to us and strange

+The like not found on earth.  Fondly I gaz'd

+Upon those patterns of meek humbleness,

+Shapes yet more precious for their artist's sake,

+When "Lo," the poet whisper'd, "where this way

+(But slack their pace), a multitude advance.

+These to the lofty steps shall guide us on."

+

+Mine eyes, though bent on view of novel sights

+Their lov'd allurement, were not slow to turn.

+

+Reader! would not that amaz'd thou miss

+Of thy good purpose, hearing how just God

+Decrees our debts be cancel'd.  Ponder not

+The form of suff'ring.  Think on what succeeds,

+Think that at worst beyond the mighty doom

+It cannot pass.  "Instructor," I began,

+"What I see hither tending, bears no trace

+Of human semblance, nor of aught beside

+That my foil'd sight can guess."  He answering thus:

+"So courb'd to earth, beneath their heavy teems

+Of torment stoop they, that mine eye at first

+Struggled as thine.  But look intently thither,

+An disentangle with thy lab'ring view,

+What underneath those stones approacheth: now,

+E'en now, mayst thou discern the pangs of each."

+

+Christians and proud! poor and wretched ones!

+That feeble in the mind's eye, lean your trust

+Upon unstaid perverseness! now ye not

+That we are worms, yet made at last to form

+The winged insect, imp'd with angel plumes

+That to heaven's justice unobstructed soars?

+Why buoy ye up aloft your unfleg'd souls?

+Abortive then and shapeless ye remain,

+Like the untimely embryon of a worm!

+

+As, to support incumbent floor or roof,

+For corbel is a figure sometimes seen,

+That crumples up its knees unto its breast,

+With the feign'd posture stirring ruth unfeign'd

+In the beholder's fancy; so I saw

+These fashion'd, when I noted well their guise.

+

+Each, as his back was laden, came indeed

+Or more or less contract; but it appear'd

+As he, who show'd most patience in his look,

+Wailing exclaim'd: "I can endure no more."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XI

+

+"O thou Almighty Father, who dost make

+The heavens thy dwelling, not in bounds confin'd,

+But that with love intenser there thou view'st

+Thy primal effluence, hallow'd be thy name:

+Join each created being to extol

+Thy might, for worthy humblest thanks and praise

+Is thy blest Spirit.  May thy kingdom's peace

+Come unto us; for we, unless it come,

+With all our striving thither tend in vain.

+As of their will the angels unto thee

+Tender meet sacrifice, circling thy throne

+With loud hosannas, so of theirs be done

+By saintly men on earth.  Grant us this day

+Our daily manna, without which he roams

+Through this rough desert retrograde, who most

+Toils to advance his steps.  As we to each

+Pardon the evil done us, pardon thou

+Benign, and of our merit take no count.

+'Gainst the old adversary prove thou not

+Our virtue easily subdu'd; but free

+From his incitements and defeat his wiles.

+This last petition, dearest Lord! is made

+Not for ourselves, since that were needless now,

+But for their sakes who after us remain."

+

+Thus for themselves and us good speed imploring,

+Those spirits went beneath a weight like that

+We sometimes feel in dreams, all, sore beset,

+But with unequal anguish, wearied all,

+Round the first circuit, purging as they go,

+The world's gross darkness off: In our behalf

+If there vows still be offer'd, what can here

+For them be vow'd and done by such, whose wills

+Have root of goodness in them?  Well beseems

+That we should help them wash away the stains

+They carried hence, that so made pure and light,

+They may spring upward to the starry spheres.

+

+"Ah! so may mercy-temper'd justice rid

+Your burdens speedily, that ye have power

+To stretch your wing, which e'en to your desire

+Shall lift you, as ye show us on which hand

+Toward the ladder leads the shortest way.

+And if there be more passages than one,

+Instruct us of that easiest to ascend;

+For this man who comes with me, and bears yet

+The charge of fleshly raiment Adam left him,

+Despite his better will but slowly mounts."

+From whom the answer came unto these words,

+Which my guide spake, appear'd not; but 'twas said:

+

+"Along the bank to rightward come with us,

+And ye shall find a pass that mocks not toil

+Of living man to climb: and were it not

+That I am hinder'd by the rock, wherewith

+This arrogant neck is tam'd, whence needs I stoop

+My visage to the ground, him, who yet lives,

+Whose name thou speak'st not him I fain would view.

+To mark if e'er I knew himnd to crave

+His pity for the fardel that I bear.

+I was of Latiun,  of a Tuscan horn

+A mighty one: Aldobranlesco's name

+My sire's, I know not if ye e'er have heard.

+My old blood and forefathers' gallant deeds

+Made me so haughty, that I clean forgot

+The common mother, and to such excess,

+Wax'd in my scorn of all men, that I fell,

+Fell therefore; by what fate Sienna's sons,

+Each child in Campagnatico, can tell.

+I am Omberto; not me only pride

+Hath injur'd, but my kindred all involv'd

+In mischief with her.  Here my lot ordains

+Under this weight to groan, till I appease

+God's angry justice, since I did it not

+Amongst the living, here amongst the dead."

+

+List'ning I bent my visage down: and one

+(Not he who spake) twisted beneath the weight

+That urg'd him, saw me, knew me straight, and call'd,

+Holding his eyes With difficulty fix'd

+Intent upon me, stooping as I went

+Companion of their way.  "O!"  I exclaim'd,

+

+"Art thou not Oderigi, art not thou

+Agobbio's glory, glory of that art

+Which they of Paris call the limmer's skill?"

+

+"Brother!" said he, "with tints that gayer smile,

+Bolognian Franco's pencil lines the leaves.

+His all the honour now; mine borrow'd light.

+In truth I had not been thus courteous to him,

+The whilst I liv'd, through eagerness of zeal

+For that pre-eminence my heart was bent on.

+Here of such pride the forfeiture is paid.

+Nor were I even here; if, able still

+To sin, I had not turn'd me unto God.

+O powers of man! how vain your glory, nipp'd

+E'en in its height of verdure, if an age

+Less bright succeed not! imbue thought

+To lord it over painting's field; and now

+The cry is Giotto's, and his name eclips'd.

+Thus hath one Guido from the other snatch'd

+The letter'd prize: and he perhaps is born,

+Who shall drive either from their nest.  The noise

+Of worldly fame is but a blast of wind,

+That blows from divers points, and shifts its name

+Shifting the point it blows from.  Shalt thou more

+Live in the mouths of mankind, if thy flesh

+Part shrivel'd from thee, than if thou hadst died,

+Before the coral and the pap were left,

+Or ere some thousand years have passed? and that

+Is, to eternity compar'd, a space,

+Briefer than is the twinkling of an eye

+To the heaven's slowest orb.  He there who treads

+So leisurely before me, far and wide

+Through Tuscany resounded once; and now

+Is in Sienna scarce with whispers nam'd:

+There was he sov'reign, when destruction caught

+The madd'ning rage of Florence, in that day

+Proud as she now is loathsome.  Your renown

+Is as the herb, whose hue doth come and go,

+And his might withers it, by whom it sprang

+Crude from the lap of earth."  I thus to him:

+"True are thy sayings: to my heart they breathe

+The kindly spirit of meekness, and allay

+What tumours rankle there.  But who is he

+Of whom thou spak'st but now?"--"This," he replied,

+"Is Provenzano.  He is here, because

+He reach'd, with grasp presumptuous, at the sway

+Of all Sienna.  Thus he still hath gone,

+Thus goeth never-resting, since he died.

+Such is th' acquittance render'd back of him,

+Who, beyond measure, dar'd on earth."  I then:

+"If soul that to the verge of life delays

+Repentance, linger in that lower space,

+Nor hither mount, unless good prayers befriend,

+How chanc'd admittance was vouchsaf'd to him?"

+

+"When at his glory's topmost height," said he,

+"Respect of dignity all cast aside,

+Freely He fix'd him on Sienna's plain,

+A suitor to  redeem his suff'ring friend,

+Who languish'd in the prison-house of Charles,

+Nor for his sake refus'd through every vein

+To tremble.  More I will not say; and dark,

+I know, my words are, but thy neighbours soon

+Shall help thee to a comment on the text.

+This is the work, that from these limits freed him."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XII

+

+With equal pace as oxen in the yoke,

+I with that laden spirit journey'd on

+Long as the mild instructor suffer'd me;

+But when he bade me quit him, and proceed

+(For "here," said he, "behooves with sail and oars

+Each man, as best he may, push on his bark"),

+Upright, as one dispos'd for speed, I rais'd

+My body, still in thought submissive bow'd.

+

+I now my leader's track not loth pursued;

+And each had shown how light we far'd along

+When thus he warn'd me: "Bend thine eyesight down:

+For thou to ease the way shall find it good

+To ruminate the bed beneath thy feet."

+

+As in memorial of the buried, drawn

+Upon earth-level tombs, the sculptur'd form

+Of what was once, appears (at sight whereof

+Tears often stream forth by remembrance wak'd,

+Whose sacred stings the piteous only feel),

+So saw I there, but with more curious skill

+Of portraiture o'erwrought, whate'er of space

+From forth the mountain stretches.  On one part

+Him I beheld, above all creatures erst

+Created noblest, light'ning fall from heaven:

+On th' other side with bolt celestial pierc'd

+Briareus: cumb'ring earth he lay through dint

+Of mortal ice-stroke.  The Thymbraean god

+With Mars, I saw, and Pallas, round their sire,

+Arm'd still, and gazing on the giant's limbs

+Strewn o'er th' ethereal field.  Nimrod I saw:

+At foot of the stupendous work he stood,

+As if bewilder'd, looking on the crowd

+Leagued in his proud attempt on Sennaar's plain.

+

+O Niobe! in what a trance of woe

+Thee I beheld, upon that highway drawn,

+Sev'n sons on either side thee slain!  Saul!

+How ghastly didst thou look! on thine own sword

+Expiring in Gilboa, from that hour

+Ne'er visited with rain from heav'n or dew!

+

+O fond Arachne! thee I also saw

+Half spider now in anguish crawling up

+Th' unfinish'd web thou weaved'st to thy bane!

+

+O Rehoboam! here thy shape doth seem

+Louring no more defiance! but fear-smote

+With none to chase him in his chariot whirl'd.

+

+Was shown beside upon the solid floor

+How dear Alcmaeon forc'd his mother rate

+That ornament in evil hour receiv'd:

+How in the temple on Sennacherib fell

+His sons, and how a corpse they left him there.

+Was shown the scath and cruel mangling made

+By Tomyris on Cyrus, when she cried:

+"Blood thou didst thirst for, take thy fill of blood!"

+Was shown how routed in the battle fled

+Th' Assyrians, Holofernes slain, and e'en

+The relics of the carnage.  Troy I mark'd

+In ashes and in caverns.  Oh! how fall'n,

+How abject, Ilion, was thy semblance there!

+

+What master of the pencil or the style

+Had trac'd the shades and lines, that might have made

+The subtlest workman wonder?  Dead the dead,

+The living seem'd alive; with clearer view

+His eye beheld not who beheld the truth,

+Than mine what I did tread on, while I went

+Low bending.  Now swell out; and with stiff necks

+Pass on, ye sons of Eve! veil not your looks,

+Lest they descry the evil of your path!

+

+I noted not (so busied was my thought)

+How much we now had circled of the mount,

+And of his course yet more the sun had spent,

+When he, who with still wakeful caution went,

+Admonish'd: "Raise thou up thy head: for know

+Time is not now for slow suspense.  Behold

+That way an angel hasting towards us!  Lo!

+Where duly the sixth handmaid doth return

+From service on the day.  Wear thou in look

+And gesture seemly grace of reverent awe,

+That gladly he may forward us aloft.

+Consider that this day ne'er dawns again."

+

+Time's loss he had so often warn'd me 'gainst,

+I could not miss the scope at which he aim'd.

+

+The goodly shape approach'd us, snowy white

+In vesture, and with visage casting streams

+Of tremulous lustre like the matin star.

+His arms he open'd, then his wings; and spake:

+"Onward: the steps, behold! are near; and now

+Th' ascent is without difficulty gain'd."

+

+A scanty few are they, who when they hear

+Such tidings, hasten.  O ye race of men

+Though born to soar, why suffer ye a wind

+So slight to baffle ye?  He led us on

+Where the rock parted; here against my front

+Did beat his wings, then promis'd I should fare

+In safety on my way.  As to ascend

+That steep, upon whose brow the chapel stands

+(O'er Rubaconte, looking lordly down

+On the well-guided city,) up the right

+Th' impetuous rise is broken by the steps

+Carv'd in that old and simple age, when still

+The registry and label rested safe;

+Thus is th' acclivity reliev'd, which here

+Precipitous from the other circuit falls:

+But on each hand the tall cliff presses close.

+

+As ent'ring there we turn'd, voices, in strain

+Ineffable, sang: "Blessed are the poor

+In spirit."  Ah how far unlike to these

+The straits of hell; here songs to usher us,

+There shrieks of woe!  We climb the holy stairs:

+And lighter to myself by far I seem'd

+Than on the plain before, whence thus I spake:

+"Say, master, of what heavy thing have I

+Been lighten'd, that scarce aught the sense of toil

+Affects me journeying?"  He in few replied:

+"When sin's broad characters, that yet remain

+Upon thy temples, though well nigh effac'd,

+Shall be, as one is, all clean razed out,

+Then shall thy feet by heartiness of will

+Be so o'ercome, they not alone shall feel

+No sense of labour, but delight much more

+Shall wait them urg'd along their upward way."

+

+Then like to one, upon whose head is plac'd

+Somewhat he deems not of but from the becks

+Of others as they pass him by; his hand

+Lends therefore help to' assure him, searches, finds,

+And well performs such office as the eye

+Wants power to execute: so stretching forth

+The fingers of my right hand, did I find

+Six only of the letters, which his sword

+Who bare the keys had trac'd upon my brow.

+The leader, as he mark'd mine action, smil'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIII

+

+We reach'd the summit of the scale, and stood

+Upon the second buttress of that mount

+Which healeth him who climbs.  A cornice there,

+Like to the former, girdles round the hill;

+Save that its arch with sweep less ample bends.

+

+Shadow nor image there is seen; all smooth

+The rampart and the path, reflecting nought

+But the rock's sullen hue.  "If here we wait

+For some to question," said the bard, "I fear

+Our choice may haply meet too long delay."

+

+Then fixedly upon the sun his eyes

+He fastn'd, made his right the central point

+From whence to move, and turn'd the left aside.

+"O pleasant light, my confidence and hope,

+Conduct us thou," he cried, "on this new way,

+Where now I venture, leading to the bourn

+We seek.  The universal world to thee

+Owes warmth and lustre.  If no other cause

+Forbid, thy beams should ever be our guide."

+

+Far, as is measur'd for a mile on earth,

+In brief space had we journey'd; such prompt will

+Impell'd; and towards us flying, now were heard

+Spirits invisible, who courteously

+Unto love's table bade the welcome guest.

+The voice, that firstlew by, call'd forth aloud,

+"They have no wine;" so on behind us past,

+Those sounds reiterating, nor yet lost

+In the faint distance, when another came

+Crying, "I am Orestes," and alike

+Wing'd its fleet way.  "Oh father!"  I exclaim'd,

+"What tongues are these?"  and as I question'd, lo!

+A third exclaiming, "Love ye those have wrong'd you."

+

+"This circuit," said my teacher, "knots the scourge

+For envy, and the cords are therefore drawn

+By charity's correcting hand.  The curb

+Is of a harsher sound, as thou shalt hear

+(If I deem rightly), ere thou reach the pass,

+Where pardon sets them free.  But fix thine eyes

+Intently through the air, and thou shalt see

+A multitude before thee seated, each

+Along the shelving grot."  Then more than erst

+I op'd my eyes, before me view'd, and saw

+Shadows with garments dark as was the rock;

+And when we pass'd a little forth, I heard

+A crying, "Blessed Mary! pray for us,

+Michael and Peter! all ye saintly host!"

+

+I do not think there walks on earth this day

+Man so remorseless, that he hath not yearn'd

+With pity at the sight that next I saw.

+Mine eyes a load of sorrow teemed, when now

+I stood so near them, that their semblances

+Came clearly to my view.  Of sackcloth vile

+Their cov'ring seem'd; and on his shoulder one

+Did stay another, leaning, and all lean'd

+Against the cliff.  E'en thus the blind and poor,

+Near the confessionals, to crave an alms,

+Stand, each his head upon his fellow's sunk,

+

+So most to stir compassion, not by sound

+Of words alone, but that, which moves not less,

+The sight of mis'ry.  And as never beam

+Of noonday visiteth the eyeless man,

+E'en so was heav'n a niggard unto these

+Of his fair light; for, through the orbs of all,

+A thread of wire, impiercing, knits them up,

+As for the taming of a haggard hawk.

+

+It were a wrong, methought, to pass and look

+On others, yet myself the while unseen.

+To my sage counsel therefore did I turn.

+He knew the meaning of the mute appeal,

+Nor waited for my questioning, but said:

+"Speak; and be brief, be subtle in thy words."

+

+On that part of the cornice, whence no rim

+Engarlands its steep fall, did Virgil come;

+On the' other side me were the spirits, their cheeks

+Bathing devout with penitential tears,

+That through the dread impalement forc'd a way.

+

+I turn'd me to them, and "O shades!" said I,

+

+"Assur'd that to your eyes unveil'd shall shine

+The lofty light, sole object of your wish,

+So may heaven's grace clear whatsoe'er of foam

+Floats turbid on the conscience, that thenceforth

+The stream of mind roll limpid from its source,

+As ye declare (for so shall ye impart

+A boon I dearly prize) if any soul

+Of Latium dwell among ye; and perchance

+That soul may profit, if I learn so much."

+

+"My brother, we are each one citizens

+Of one true city.  Any thou wouldst say,

+Who lived a stranger in Italia's land."

+

+So heard I answering, as appeal'd, a voice

+That onward came some space from whence I stood.

+

+A spirit I noted, in whose look was mark'd

+Expectance.  Ask ye how?  The chin was rais'd

+As in one reft of sight.  "Spirit," said I,

+"Who for thy rise are tutoring (if thou be

+That which didst answer to me,) or by place

+Or name, disclose thyself, that I may know thee."

+

+"I was," it answer'd, "of Sienna: here

+I cleanse away with these the evil life,

+Soliciting with tears that He, who is,

+Vouchsafe him to us.  Though Sapia nam'd

+In sapience I excell'd not, gladder far

+Of others' hurt, than of the good befell me.

+That thou mayst own I now deceive thee not,

+Hear, if my folly were not as I speak it.

+When now my years slop'd waning down the arch,

+It so bechanc'd, my fellow citizens

+Near Colle met their enemies in the field,

+And I pray'd God to grant what He had will'd.

+There were they vanquish'd, and betook themselves

+Unto the bitter passages of flight.

+I mark'd the hunt, and waxing out of bounds

+In gladness, lifted up my shameless brow,

+And like the merlin cheated by a gleam,

+Cried, "It is over.  Heav'n! fear thee not."

+Upon my verge of life I wish'd for peace

+With God; nor repentance had supplied

+What I did lack of duty, were it not

+The hermit Piero, touch'd with charity,

+In his devout orisons thought on me.

+"But who art thou that question'st of our state,

+Who go'st to my belief, with lids unclos'd,

+And breathest in thy talk?"--"Mine eyes," said I,

+"May yet be here ta'en from me; but not long;

+For they have not offended grievously

+With envious glances.  But the woe beneath

+Urges my soul with more exceeding dread.

+That nether load already weighs me down."

+

+She thus: "Who then amongst us here aloft

+Hath brought thee, if thou weenest to return?"

+

+"He," answer'd I, "who standeth mute beside me.

+I live: of me ask therefore, chosen spirit,

+If thou desire I yonder yet should move

+For thee my mortal feet."--"Oh!" she replied,

+"This is so strange a thing, it is great sign

+That God doth love thee.  Therefore with thy prayer

+Sometime assist me: and by that I crave,

+Which most thou covetest, that if thy feet

+E'er tread on Tuscan soil, thou save my fame

+Amongst my kindred.  Them shalt thou behold

+With that vain multitude, who set their hope

+On Telamone's haven, there to fail

+Confounded, more shall when the fancied stream

+They sought of Dian call'd: but they who lead

+Their navies, more than ruin'd hopes shall mourn."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIV

+

+"Say who is he around our mountain winds,

+Or ever death has prun'd his wing for flight,

+That opes his eyes and covers them at will?"

+

+"I know not who he is, but know thus much

+He comes not singly.  Do thou ask of him,

+For thou art nearer to him, and take heed

+Accost him gently, so that he may speak."

+

+Thus on the right two Spirits bending each

+Toward the other, talk'd of me, then both

+Addressing me, their faces backward lean'd,

+And thus the one began: "O soul, who yet

+Pent in the body, tendest towards the sky!

+For charity, we pray thee' comfort us,

+Recounting whence thou com'st, and who thou art:

+For thou dost make us at the favour shown thee

+Marvel, as at a thing that ne'er hath been."

+

+"There stretches through the midst of Tuscany,"

+I straight began: "a brooklet, whose well-head

+Springs up in Falterona, with his race

+Not satisfied, when he some hundred miles

+Hath measur'd.  From his banks bring, I this frame.

+To tell you who I am were words misspent:

+For yet my name scarce sounds on rumour's lip."

+

+"If well I do incorp'rate with my thought

+The meaning of thy speech," said he, who first

+Addrest me, "thou dost speak of Arno's wave."

+

+To whom the other: "Why hath he conceal'd

+The title of that river, as a man

+Doth of some horrible thing?"  The spirit, who

+Thereof was question'd, did acquit him thus:

+"I know not: but 'tis fitting well the name

+Should perish of that vale; for from the source

+Where teems so plenteously the Alpine steep

+Maim'd of Pelorus, (that doth scarcely pass

+Beyond that limit,) even to the point

+Whereunto ocean is restor'd, what heaven

+Drains from th' exhaustless store for all earth's streams,

+Throughout the space is virtue worried down,

+As 'twere a snake, by all, for mortal foe,

+Or through disastrous influence on the place,

+Or else distortion of misguided wills,

+That custom goads to evil: whence in those,

+The dwellers in that miserable vale,

+Nature is so transform'd, it seems as they

+Had shar'd of Circe's feeding.  'Midst brute swine,

+Worthier of acorns than of other food

+Created for man's use, he shapeth first

+His obscure way; then, sloping onward, finds

+Curs, snarlers more in spite than power, from whom

+He turns with scorn aside: still journeying down,

+By how much more the curst and luckless foss

+Swells out to largeness, e'en so much it finds

+Dogs turning into wolves.  Descending still

+Through yet more hollow eddies, next he meets

+A race of foxes, so replete with craft,

+They do not fear that skill can master it.

+Nor will I cease because my words are heard

+By other ears than thine.  It shall be well

+For this man, if he keep in memory

+What from no erring Spirit I reveal.

+Lo! behold thy grandson, that becomes

+A hunter of those wolves, upon the shore

+Of the fierce stream, and cows them all with dread:

+Their flesh yet living sets he up to sale,

+Then like an aged beast to slaughter dooms.

+Many of life he reaves, himself of worth

+And goodly estimation.  Smear'd with gore

+Mark how he issues from the rueful wood,

+Leaving such havoc, that in thousand years

+It spreads not to prime lustihood again."

+

+As one, who tidings hears of woe to come,

+Changes his looks perturb'd, from whate'er part

+The peril grasp him, so beheld I change

+That spirit, who had turn'd to listen, struck

+With sadness, soon as he had caught the word.

+

+His visage and the other's speech did raise

+Desire in me to know the names of both,

+whereof with meek entreaty I inquir'd.

+

+The shade, who late addrest me, thus resum'd:

+"Thy wish imports that I vouchsafe to do

+For thy sake what thou wilt not do for mine.

+But since God's will is that so largely shine

+His grace in thee, I will be liberal too.

+Guido of Duca know then that I am.

+Envy so parch'd my blood, that had I seen

+A fellow man made joyous, thou hadst mark'd

+A livid paleness overspread my cheek.

+Such harvest reap I of the seed I sow'd.

+O man, why place thy heart where there doth need

+Exclusion of participants in good?

+This is Rinieri's spirit, this the boast

+And honour of the house of Calboli,

+Where of his worth no heritage remains.

+Nor his the only blood, that hath been stript

+('twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore,)

+Of all that truth or fancy asks for bliss;

+But in those limits such a growth has sprung

+Of rank and venom'd roots, as long would mock

+Slow culture's toil.  Where is good Liziohere

+Manardi, Traversalo, and Carpigna?

+O bastard slips of old Romagna's line!

+When in Bologna the low artisan,

+And in Faenza yon Bernardin sprouts,

+A gentle cyon from ignoble stem.

+Wonder not, Tuscan, if thou see me weep,

+When I recall to mind those once lov'd names,

+Guido of Prata, and of Azzo him

+That dwelt with you; Tignoso and his troop,

+With Traversaro's house and Anastagio's,

+(Each race disherited) and beside these,

+The ladies and the knights, the toils and ease,

+That witch'd us into love and courtesy;

+Where now such malice reigns in recreant hearts.

+O Brettinoro! wherefore tarriest still,

+Since forth of thee thy family hath gone,

+And many, hating evil, join'd their steps?

+Well doeth he, that bids his lineage cease,

+Bagnacavallo; Castracaro ill,

+And Conio worse, who care to propagate

+A race of Counties from such blood as theirs.

+Well shall ye also do, Pagani, then

+When from amongst you tries your demon child.

+Not so, howe'er, that henceforth there remain

+True proof of what ye were.  O Hugolin!

+Thou sprung of Fantolini's line! thy name

+Is safe, since none is look'd for after thee

+To cloud its lustre, warping from thy stock.

+But, Tuscan, go thy ways; for now I take

+Far more delight in weeping than in words.

+Such pity for your sakes hath wrung my heart."

+

+We knew those gentle spirits at parting heard

+Our steps.  Their silence therefore of our way

+Assur'd us.  Soon as we had quitted them,

+Advancing onward, lo! a voice that seem'd

+Like vollied light'ning, when it rives the air,

+Met us, and shouted, "Whosoever finds

+Will slay me," then fled from us, as the bolt

+Lanc'd sudden from a downward-rushing cloud.

+When it had giv'n short truce unto our hearing,

+Behold the other with a crash as loud

+As the quick-following thunder: "Mark in me

+Aglauros turn'd to rock."  I at the sound

+Retreating drew more closely to my guide.

+

+Now in mute stillness rested all the air:

+And thus he spake: "There was the galling bit.

+But your old enemy so baits his hook,

+He drags you eager to him.  Hence nor curb

+Avails you, nor reclaiming call.  Heav'n calls

+And round about you wheeling courts your gaze

+With everlasting beauties.  Yet your eye

+Turns with fond doting still upon the earth.

+Therefore He smites you who discerneth all."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XV

+

+As much as 'twixt the third hour's close and dawn,

+Appeareth of heav'n's sphere, that ever whirls

+As restless as an infant in his play,

+So much appear'd remaining to the sun

+Of his slope journey towards the western goal.

+

+Evening was there, and here the noon of night;

+and full upon our forehead smote the beams.

+For  round the mountain, circling, so our path

+Had led us, that toward the sun-set now

+Direct we journey'd: when I felt a weight

+Of more exceeding splendour, than before,

+Press on my front.  The cause unknown, amaze

+Possess'd me, and both hands against my brow

+Lifting, I interpos'd them, as a screen,

+That of its gorgeous superflux of light

+Clipp'd the diminish'd orb. As when the ray,

+Striking On water or the surface clear

+Of mirror, leaps unto the opposite part,

+Ascending at a glance, e'en as it fell,

+(And so much differs from the stone, that falls

+Through equal space, as practice skill hath shown);

+Thus with refracted light before me seemed

+The ground there smitten; whence in sudden haste

+My sight recoil'd.  "What is this, sire belov'd!

+'Gainst which I strive to shield the sight in vain?"

+Cried I, "and which towards us moving seems?"

+

+"Marvel not, if the family of heav'n,"

+He answer'd, "yet with dazzling radiance dim

+Thy sense it is a messenger who comes,

+Inviting man's ascent.  Such sights ere long,

+Not grievous, shall impart to thee delight,

+As thy perception is by nature wrought

+Up to their pitch."  The blessed angel, soon

+As we had reach'd him, hail'd us with glad voice:

+"Here enter on a ladder far less steep

+Than ye have yet encounter'd."  We forthwith

+Ascending, heard behind us chanted sweet,

+"Blessed the merciful," and "happy thou!

+That conquer'st."  Lonely each, my guide and I

+Pursued our upward way; and as we went,

+Some profit from his words I hop'd to win,

+And thus of him inquiring, fram'd my speech:

+

+"What meant Romagna's spirit, when he spake

+Of bliss exclusive with no partner shar'd?"

+

+He straight replied: "No wonder, since he knows,

+What sorrow waits on his own worst defect,

+If he chide others, that they less may mourn.

+Because ye point your wishes at a mark,

+Where, by communion of possessors, part

+Is lessen'd, envy bloweth up the sighs of men.

+No fear of that might touch ye, if the love

+Of higher sphere exalted your desire.

+For there, by how much more they call it ours,

+So much propriety of each in good

+Increases more, and heighten'd charity

+Wraps that fair cloister in a brighter flame."

+

+"Now lack I satisfaction more," said I,

+"Than if thou hadst been silent at the first,

+And doubt more gathers on my lab'ring thought.

+How can it chance, that good distributed,

+The many, that possess it, makes more rich,

+Than if 't were shar'd by few?"  He answering thus:

+"Thy mind, reverting still to things of earth,

+Strikes darkness from true light.  The highest good

+Unlimited, ineffable, doth so speed

+To love, as beam to lucid body darts,

+Giving as much of ardour as it finds.

+The sempiternal effluence streams abroad

+Spreading, wherever charity extends.

+So that the more aspirants to that bliss

+Are multiplied, more good is there to love,

+And more is lov'd; as mirrors, that reflect,

+Each unto other, propagated light.

+If these my words avail not to allay

+Thy thirsting, Beatrice thou shalt see,

+Who of this want, and of all else thou hast,

+Shall rid thee to the full.  Provide but thou

+That from thy temples may be soon eras'd,

+E'en as the two already, those five scars,

+That when they pain thee worst, then kindliest heal,"

+

+"Thou," I had said, "content'st me," when I saw

+The other round was gain'd, and wond'ring eyes

+Did keep me mute.  There suddenly I seem'd

+By an ecstatic vision wrapt away;

+And in a temple saw, methought, a crowd

+Of many persons; and at th' entrance stood

+A dame, whose sweet demeanour did express

+A mother's love, who said, "Child! why hast thou

+Dealt with us thus?  Behold thy sire and I

+Sorrowing have sought thee;" and so held her peace,

+And straight the vision fled.  A female next

+Appear'd before me, down whose visage cours'd

+Those waters, that grief forces out from one

+By deep resentment stung, who seem'd to say:

+"If thou, Pisistratus, be lord indeed

+Over this city, nam'd with such debate

+Of adverse gods, and whence each science sparkles,

+Avenge thee of those arms, whose bold embrace

+Hath clasp'd our daughter; "and to fuel, meseem'd,

+Benign and meek, with visage undisturb'd,

+Her sovran spake: "How shall we those requite,

+Who wish us evil, if we thus condemn

+The man that loves us?"  After that I saw

+A multitude, in fury burning, slay

+With stones a stripling youth, and shout amain

+"Destroy, destroy:" and him I saw, who bow'd

+Heavy with death unto the ground, yet made

+His eyes, unfolded upward, gates to heav'n,

+

+Praying forgiveness of th' Almighty Sire,

+Amidst that cruel conflict, on his foes,

+With looks, that With compassion to their aim.

+

+Soon as my spirit, from her airy flight

+Returning, sought again the things, whose truth

+Depends not on her shaping, I observ'd

+How she had rov'd to no unreal scenes

+

+Meanwhile the leader, who might see I mov'd,

+As one, who struggles to shake off his sleep,

+Exclaim'd: "What ails thee, that thou canst not hold

+Thy footing firm, but more than half a league

+Hast travel'd with clos'd eyes and tott'ring gait,

+Like to a man by wine or sleep o'ercharg'd?"

+

+"Beloved father! so thou deign," said I,

+"To listen, I will tell thee what appear'd

+Before me, when so fail'd my sinking steps."

+

+He thus: "Not if thy Countenance were mask'd

+With hundred vizards, could a thought of thine

+How small soe'er, elude me.  What thou saw'st

+Was shown, that freely thou mightst ope thy heart

+To the waters of peace, that flow diffus'd

+From their eternal fountain.  I not ask'd,

+What ails theeor such cause as he doth, who

+Looks only with that eye which sees no more,

+When spiritless the body lies; but ask'd,

+To give fresh vigour to thy foot.  Such goads

+The slow and loit'ring need; that they be found

+Not wanting, when their hour of watch returns."

+

+So on we journey'd through the evening sky

+Gazing intent, far onward, as our eyes

+With level view could stretch against the bright

+Vespertine ray: and lo! by slow degrees

+Gath'ring, a fog made tow'rds us, dark as night.

+There was no room for 'scaping; and that mist

+Bereft us, both of sight and the pure air.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVI

+

+Hell's dunnest gloom, or night unlustrous, dark,

+Of every planes 'reft, and pall'd in clouds,

+Did never spread before the sight a veil

+In thickness like that fog, nor to the sense

+So palpable and gross.  Ent'ring its shade,

+Mine eye endured not with unclosed lids;

+Which marking, near me drew the faithful guide,

+Offering me his shoulder for a stay.

+

+As the blind man behind his leader walks,

+Lest he should err, or stumble unawares

+On what might harm him, or perhaps destroy,

+I journey'd through that bitter air and foul,

+Still list'ning to my escort's warning voice,

+"Look that from me thou part not."  Straight I heard

+Voices, and each one seem'd to pray for peace,

+And for compassion, to the Lamb of God

+That taketh sins away.  Their prelude still

+Was "Agnus Dei," and through all the choir,

+One voice, one measure ran, that perfect seem'd

+The concord of their song.  "Are these I hear

+Spirits, O master?"  I exclaim'd; and he:

+"Thou aim'st aright: these loose the bonds of wrath."

+

+"Now who art thou, that through our smoke dost cleave?

+And speak'st of us, as thou thyself e'en yet

+Dividest time by calends?"  So one voice

+Bespake me; whence my master said: "Reply;

+And ask, if upward hence the passage lead."

+

+"O being! who dost make thee pure, to stand

+Beautiful once more in thy Maker's sight!

+Along with me: and thou shalt hear and wonder."

+Thus I, whereto the spirit answering spake:

+

+"Long as 't is lawful for me, shall my steps

+Follow on thine; and since the cloudy smoke

+Forbids the seeing, hearing in its stead

+Shall keep us join'd."  I then forthwith began

+"Yet in my mortal swathing, I ascend

+To higher regions, and am hither come

+Through the fearful agony of hell.

+And, if so largely God hath doled his grace,

+That, clean beside all modern precedent,

+He wills me to behold his kingly state,

+From me conceal not who thou wast, ere death

+Had loos'd thee; but instruct me: and instruct

+If rightly to the pass I tend; thy words

+The way directing as a safe escort."

+

+"I was of Lombardy, and Marco call'd:

+Not inexperienc'd of the world, that worth

+I still affected, from which all have turn'd

+The nerveless bow aside.  Thy course tends right

+Unto the summit:" and, replying thus,

+He added, "I beseech thee pray for me,

+When thou shalt come aloft."  And I to him:

+"Accept my faith for pledge I will perform

+What thou requirest.  Yet one doubt remains,

+That wrings me sorely, if I solve it not,

+Singly before it urg'd me, doubled now

+By thine opinion, when I couple that

+With one elsewhere declar'd, each strength'ning other.

+The world indeed is even so forlorn

+Of all good as thou speak'st it and so swarms

+With every evil.  Yet, beseech thee, point

+The cause out to me, that myself may see,

+And unto others show it: for in heaven

+One places it, and one on earth below."

+

+Then heaving forth a deep and audible sigh,

+"Brother!" he thus began, "the world is blind;

+And thou in truth com'st from it.  Ye, who live,

+Do so each cause refer to heav'n above,

+E'en as its motion of necessity

+Drew with it all that moves.  If this were so,

+Free choice in you were none; nor justice would

+There should be joy for virtue, woe for ill.

+Your movements have their primal bent from heaven;

+Not all; yet said I all; what then ensues?

+Light have ye still to follow evil or good,

+And of the will free power, which, if it stand

+Firm and unwearied in Heav'n's first assay,

+Conquers at last, so it be cherish'd well,

+Triumphant over all.  To mightier force,

+To better nature subject, ye abide

+Free, not constrain'd by that, which forms in you

+The reasoning mind uninfluenc'd of the stars.

+If then the present race of mankind err,

+Seek in yourselves the cause, and find it there.

+Herein thou shalt confess me no false spy.

+

+"Forth from his plastic hand, who charm'd beholds

+Her image ere she yet exist, the soul

+Comes like a babe, that wantons sportively

+Weeping and laughing in its wayward moods,

+As artless and as ignorant of aught,

+Save that her Maker being one who dwells

+With gladness ever, willingly she turns

+To whate'er yields her joy.  Of some slight good

+The flavour soon she tastes; and, snar'd by that,

+With fondness she pursues it, if no guide

+Recall, no rein direct her wand'ring course.

+Hence it behov'd, the law should be a curb;

+A sovereign hence behov'd, whose piercing view

+Might mark at least the fortress and main tower

+Of the true city.  Laws indeed there are:

+But who is he observes them?  None; not he,

+Who goes before, the shepherd of the flock,

+Who chews the cud but doth not cleave the hoof.

+Therefore the multitude, who see their guide

+Strike at the very good they covet most,

+Feed there and look no further.  Thus the cause

+Is not corrupted nature in yourselves,

+But ill-conducting, that hath turn'd the world

+To evil.  Rome, that turn'd it unto good,

+Was wont to boast two suns, whose several beams

+Cast light on either way, the world's and God's.

+One since hath quench'd the other; and the sword

+Is grafted on the crook; and so conjoin'd

+Each must perforce decline to worse, unaw'd

+By fear of other.  If thou doubt me, mark

+The blade: each herb is judg'd of by its seed.

+That land, through which Adice and the Po

+Their waters roll, was once the residence

+Of courtesy and velour, ere the day,

+That frown'd on Frederick; now secure may pass

+Those limits, whosoe'er hath left, for shame,

+To talk with good men, or come near their haunts.

+Three aged ones are still found there, in whom

+The old time chides the new: these deem it long

+Ere God restore them to a better world:

+The good Gherardo, of Palazzo he

+Conrad, and Guido of Castello, nam'd

+In Gallic phrase more fitly the plain Lombard.

+On this at last conclude.  The church of Rome,

+Mixing two governments that ill assort,

+Hath miss'd her footing, fall'n into the mire,

+And there herself and burden much defil'd."

+

+"O Marco!" I replied, shine arguments

+Convince me: and the cause I now discern

+Why of the heritage no portion came

+To Levi's offspring.  But resolve me this

+Who that Gherardo is, that as thou sayst

+Is left a sample of the perish'd race,

+And for rebuke to this untoward age?"

+

+"Either thy words," said he, "deceive; or else

+Are meant to try me; that thou, speaking Tuscan,

+Appear'st not to have heard of good Gherado;

+The sole addition that, by which I know him;

+Unless I borrow'd from his daughter Gaia

+Another name to grace him.  God be with you.

+I bear you company no more.  Behold

+The dawn with white ray glimm'ring through the mist.

+I must away--the angel comes--ere he

+Appear."  He said, and would not hear me more.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVII

+

+Call to remembrance, reader, if thou e'er

+Hast, on a mountain top, been ta'en by cloud,

+Through which thou saw'st no better, than the mole

+Doth through opacous membrane; then, whene'er

+The wat'ry vapours dense began to melt

+Into thin air, how faintly the sun's sphere

+Seem'd wading through them; so thy nimble thought

+May image, how at first I re-beheld

+The sun, that bedward now his couch o'erhung.

+

+Thus with my leader's feet still equaling pace

+From forth that cloud I came, when now expir'd

+The parting beams from off the nether shores.

+

+O quick and forgetive power! that sometimes dost

+So rob us of ourselves, we take no mark

+Though round about us thousand trumpets clang!

+What moves thee, if the senses stir not?  Light

+Kindled in heav'n, spontaneous, self-inform'd,

+Or likelier gliding down with swift illapse

+By will divine.  Portray'd before me came

+The traces of her dire impiety,

+Whose form was chang'd into the bird, that most

+Delights itself in song: and here my mind

+Was inwardly so wrapt, it gave no place

+To aught that ask'd admittance from without.

+

+Next shower'd into my fantasy a shape

+As of one crucified, whose visage spake

+Fell rancour, malice deep, wherein he died;

+And round him Ahasuerus the great king,

+Esther his bride, and Mordecai the just,

+Blameless in word and deed.  As of itself

+That unsubstantial coinage of the brain

+Burst, like a bubble, Which the water fails

+That fed it; in my vision straight uprose

+A damsel weeping loud, and cried, "O queen!

+O mother! wherefore has intemperate ire

+Driv'n thee to loath thy being?  Not to lose

+Lavinia, desp'rate thou hast slain thyself.

+Now hast thou lost me.  I am she, whose tears

+Mourn, ere I fall, a mother's timeless end."

+

+E'en as a sleep breaks off, if suddenly

+New radiance strike upon the closed lids,

+The broken slumber quivering ere it dies;

+Thus from before me sunk that imagery

+Vanishing, soon as on my face there struck

+The light, outshining far our earthly beam.

+As round I turn'd me to survey what place

+I had arriv'd at, "Here ye mount," exclaim'd

+A voice, that other purpose left me none,

+Save will so eager to behold who spake,

+I could not choose but gaze.  As 'fore the sun,

+That weighs our vision down, and veils his form

+In light transcendent, thus my virtue fail'd

+Unequal.  "This is Spirit from above,

+Who marshals us our upward way, unsought;

+And in his own light shrouds him.  As a man

+Doth for himself, so now is done for us.

+For whoso waits imploring, yet sees need

+Of his prompt aidance, sets himself prepar'd

+For blunt denial, ere the suit be made.

+Refuse we not to lend a ready foot

+At such inviting: haste we to ascend,

+Before it darken: for we may not then,

+Till morn again return."  So spake my guide;

+And to one ladder both address'd our steps;

+And the first stair approaching, I perceiv'd

+Near me as 'twere the waving of a wing,

+That fann'd my face and whisper'd: "Blessed they

+The peacemakers: they know not evil wrath."

+

+Now to such height above our heads were rais'd

+The last beams, follow'd close by hooded night,

+That many a star on all sides through the gloom

+Shone out.  "Why partest from me, O my strength?"

+So with myself I commun'd; for I felt

+My o'ertoil'd sinews slacken.  We had reach'd

+The summit, and were fix'd like to a bark

+Arriv'd at land.  And waiting a short space,

+If aught should meet mine ear in that new round,

+Then to my guide I turn'd, and said: "Lov'd sire!

+Declare what guilt is on this circle purg'd.

+If our feet rest, no need thy speech should pause."

+

+He thus to me: "The love of good, whate'er

+Wanted of just proportion, here fulfils.

+Here plies afresh the oar, that loiter'd ill.

+But that thou mayst yet clearlier understand,

+Give ear unto my words, and thou shalt cull

+Some fruit may please thee well, from this delay.

+

+"Creator, nor created being, ne'er,

+My son," he thus began, "was without love,

+Or natural, or the free spirit's growth.

+Thou hast not that to learn.  The natural still

+Is without error; but the other swerves,

+If on ill object bent, or through excess

+Of vigour, or defect.  While e'er it seeks

+The primal blessings, or with measure due

+Th' inferior, no delight, that flows from it,

+Partakes of ill.  But let it warp to evil,

+Or with more ardour than behooves, or less.

+Pursue the good, the thing created then

+Works 'gainst its Maker.  Hence thou must infer

+That love is germin of each virtue in ye,

+And of each act no less, that merits pain.

+Now since it may not be, but love intend

+The welfare mainly of the thing it loves,

+All from self-hatred are secure; and since

+No being can be thought t' exist apart

+And independent of the first, a bar

+Of equal force restrains from hating that.

+

+"Grant the distinction just; and it remains

+The' evil must be another's, which is lov'd.

+Three ways such love is gender'd in your clay.

+There is who hopes (his neighbour's worth deprest,)

+Preeminence himself, and coverts hence

+For his own greatness that another fall.

+There is who so much fears the loss of power,

+Fame, favour, glory (should his fellow mount

+Above him), and so sickens at the thought,

+He loves their opposite: and there is he,

+Whom wrong or insult seems to gall and shame

+That he doth thirst for vengeance, and such needs

+Must doat on other's evil.  Here beneath

+This threefold love is mourn'd.  Of th' other sort

+Be now instructed, that which follows good

+But with disorder'd and irregular course.

+

+"All indistinctly apprehend a bliss

+On which the soul may rest, the hearts of all

+Yearn after it, and to that wished bourn

+All therefore strive to tend.  If ye behold

+Or seek it with a love remiss and lax,

+This cornice after just repenting lays

+Its penal torment on ye.  Other good

+There is, where man finds not his happiness:

+It is not true fruition, not that blest

+Essence, of every good the branch and root.

+The love too lavishly bestow'd on this,

+Along three circles over us, is mourn'd.

+Account of that division tripartite

+Expect not, fitter for thine own research."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVIII

+

+The teacher ended, and his high discourse

+Concluding, earnest in my looks inquir'd

+If I appear'd content; and I, whom still

+Unsated thirst to hear him urg'd, was mute,

+Mute outwardly, yet inwardly I said:

+"Perchance my too much questioning offends"

+But he, true father, mark'd the secret wish

+By diffidence restrain'd, and speaking, gave

+Me boldness thus to speak: 'Master, my Sight

+Gathers so lively virtue from thy beams,

+That all, thy words convey, distinct is seen.

+Wherefore I pray thee, father, whom this heart

+Holds dearest! thou wouldst deign by proof t' unfold

+That love, from which as from their source thou bring'st

+All good deeds and their opposite.'"  He then:

+"To what I now disclose be thy clear ken

+Directed, and thou plainly shalt behold

+How much those blind have err'd, who make themselves

+The guides of men.  The soul, created apt

+To love, moves versatile which way soe'er

+Aught pleasing prompts her, soon as she is wak'd

+By pleasure into act.  Of substance true

+Your apprehension forms its counterfeit,

+And in you the ideal shape presenting

+Attracts the soul's regard.  If she, thus drawn,

+incline toward it, love is that inclining,

+And a new nature knit by pleasure in ye.

+Then as the fire points up, and mounting seeks

+His birth-place and his lasting seat, e'en thus

+Enters the captive soul into desire,

+Which is a spiritual motion, that ne'er rests

+Before enjoyment of the thing it loves.

+Enough to show thee, how the truth from those

+Is hidden, who aver all love a thing

+Praise-worthy in itself: although perhaps

+Its substance seem still good.  Yet if the wax

+Be good, it follows not th' impression must."

+"What love is," I return'd, "thy words, O guide!

+And my own docile mind, reveal.  Yet thence

+New doubts have sprung.  For from without if love

+Be offer'd to us, and the spirit knows

+No other footing, tend she right or wrong,

+Is no desert of hers."  He answering thus:

+"What reason here discovers I have power

+To show thee: that which lies beyond, expect

+From Beatrice, faith not reason's task.

+Spirit, substantial form, with matter join'd

+Not in confusion mix'd, hath in itself

+Specific virtue of that union born,

+Which is not felt except it work, nor prov'd

+But through effect, as vegetable life

+By the green leaf.  From whence his intellect

+Deduced its primal notices of things,

+Man therefore knows not, or his appetites

+Their first affections; such in you, as zeal

+In bees to gather honey; at the first,

+Volition, meriting nor blame nor praise.

+But o'er each lower faculty supreme,

+That as she list are summon'd to her bar,

+Ye have that virtue in you, whose just voice

+Uttereth counsel, and whose word should keep

+The threshold of assent.  Here is the source,

+Whence cause of merit in you is deriv'd,

+E'en as the affections good or ill she takes,

+Or severs, winnow'd as the chaff.  Those men

+Who reas'ning went to depth profoundest, mark'd

+That innate freedom, and were thence induc'd

+To leave their moral teaching to the world.

+Grant then, that from necessity arise

+All love that glows within you; to dismiss

+Or harbour it, the pow'r is in yourselves.

+Remember, Beatrice, in her style,

+Denominates free choice by eminence

+The noble virtue, if in talk with thee

+She touch upon that theme."  The moon, well nigh

+To midnight hour belated, made the stars

+Appear to wink and fade; and her broad disk

+Seem'd like a crag on fire, as up the vault

+That course she journey'd, which the sun then warms,

+When they of Rome behold him at his set.

+Betwixt Sardinia and the Corsic isle.

+And now the weight, that hung upon my thought,

+Was lighten'd by the aid of that clear spirit,

+Who raiseth Andes above Mantua's name.

+I therefore, when my questions had obtain'd

+Solution plain and ample, stood as one

+Musing in dreary slumber; but not long

+Slumber'd; for suddenly a multitude,

+

+The steep already turning, from behind,

+Rush'd on.  With fury and like random rout,

+As echoing on their shores at midnight heard

+Ismenus and Asopus, for his Thebes

+If Bacchus' help were needed; so came these

+Tumultuous, curving each his rapid step,

+By eagerness impell'd of holy love.

+

+Soon they o'ertook us; with such swiftness mov'd

+The mighty crowd.  Two spirits at their head

+Cried weeping; "Blessed Mary sought with haste

+The hilly region.  Caesar to subdue

+Ilerda, darted in Marseilles his sting,

+And flew to Spain."--"Oh tarry not: away;"

+The others shouted; "let not time be lost

+Through slackness of affection.  Hearty zeal

+To serve reanimates celestial grace."

+

+"O ye, in whom intenser fervency

+Haply supplies, where lukewarm erst ye fail'd,

+Slow or neglectful, to absolve your part

+Of good and virtuous, this man, who yet lives,

+(Credit my tale, though strange) desires t' ascend,

+So morning rise to light us.  Therefore say

+Which hand leads nearest to the rifted rock?"

+

+So spake my guide, to whom a shade return'd:

+"Come after us, and thou shalt find the cleft.

+We may not linger: such resistless will

+Speeds our unwearied course.  Vouchsafe us then

+Thy pardon, if our duty seem to thee

+Discourteous rudeness.  In Verona I

+Was abbot of San Zeno, when the hand

+Of Barbarossa grasp'd Imperial sway,

+That name, ne'er utter'd without tears in Milan.

+And there is he, hath one foot in his grave,

+Who for that monastery ere long shall weep,

+Ruing his power misus'd: for that his son,

+Of body ill compact, and worse in mind,

+And born in evil, he hath set in place

+Of its true pastor."  Whether more he spake,

+Or here was mute, I know not: he had sped

+E'en now so far beyond us.  Yet thus much

+I heard, and in rememb'rance treasur'd it.

+

+He then, who never fail'd me at my need,

+Cried, "Hither turn.  Lo! two with sharp remorse

+Chiding their sin!"  In rear of all the troop

+These shouted: "First they died, to whom the sea

+Open'd, or ever Jordan saw his heirs:

+And they, who with Aeneas to the end

+Endur'd not suffering, for their portion chose

+Life without glory."  Soon as they had fled

+Past reach of sight, new thought within me rose

+By others follow'd fast, and each unlike

+Its fellow: till led on from thought to thought,

+And pleasur'd with the fleeting train, mine eye

+Was clos'd, and meditation chang'd to dream.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIX

+

+It was the hour, when of diurnal heat

+No reliques chafe the cold beams of the moon,

+O'erpower'd by earth, or planetary sway

+Of Saturn; and the geomancer sees

+His Greater Fortune up the east ascend,

+Where gray dawn checkers first the shadowy cone;

+When 'fore me in my dream a woman's shape

+There came, with lips that stammer'd, eyes aslant,

+Distorted feet, hands maim'd, and colour pale.

+

+I look'd upon her; and as sunshine cheers

+Limbs numb'd by nightly cold, e'en thus my look

+Unloos'd her tongue, next in brief space her form

+Decrepit rais'd erect, and faded face

+With love's own hue illum'd. Recov'ring speech

+She forthwith warbling such a strain began,

+That I, how loth soe'er, could scarce have held

+Attention from the song.  "I," thus she sang,

+"I am the Siren, she, whom mariners

+On the wide sea are wilder'd when they hear:

+Such fulness of delight the list'ner feels.

+I from his course Ulysses by my lay

+Enchanted drew.  Whoe'er frequents me once

+Parts seldom; so I charm him, and his heart

+Contented knows no void."  Or ere her mouth

+Was clos'd, to shame her at her side appear'd

+A dame of semblance holy.  With stern voice

+She utter'd; "Say, O Virgil, who is this?"

+Which hearing, he approach'd, with eyes still bent

+Toward that goodly presence: th' other seiz'd her,

+And, her robes tearing, open'd her before,

+And show'd the belly to me, whence a smell,

+Exhaling loathsome, wak'd me.  Round I turn'd

+Mine eyes, and thus the teacher: "At the least

+Three times my voice hath call'd thee.  Rise, begone.

+Let us the opening find where thou mayst pass."

+

+I straightway rose.  Now day, pour'd down from high,

+Fill'd all the circuits of the sacred mount;

+And, as we journey'd, on our shoulder smote

+The early ray.  I follow'd, stooping low

+My forehead, as a man, o'ercharg'd with thought,

+Who bends him to the likeness of an arch,

+That midway spans the flood; when thus I heard,

+"Come, enter here," in tone so soft and mild,

+As never met the ear on mortal strand.

+

+With swan-like wings dispread and pointing up,

+Who thus had spoken marshal'd us along,

+Where each side of the solid masonry

+The sloping, walls retir'd; then mov'd his plumes,

+And fanning us, affirm'd that those, who mourn,

+Are blessed, for that comfort shall be theirs.

+

+"What aileth thee, that still thou look'st to earth?"

+Began my leader; while th' angelic shape

+A little over us his station took.

+

+"New vision," I replied, "hath rais'd in me

+Surmisings strange and anxious doubts, whereon

+My soul intent allows no other thought

+Or room or entrance."--"Hast thou seen," said he,

+"That old enchantress, her, whose wiles alone

+The spirits o'er us weep for?  Hast thou seen

+How man may free him of her bonds?  Enough.

+Let thy heels spurn the earth, and thy rais'd ken

+Fix on the lure, which heav'n's eternal King

+Whirls in the rolling spheres."  As on his feet

+The falcon first looks down, then to the sky

+Turns, and forth stretches eager for the food,

+That woos him thither; so the call I heard,

+So onward, far as the dividing rock

+Gave way, I journey'd, till the plain was reach'd.

+

+On the fifth circle when I stood at large,

+A race appear'd before me, on the ground

+All downward lying prone and weeping sore.

+"My soul hath cleaved to the dust," I heard

+With sighs so deep, they well nigh choak'd the words.

+"O ye elect of God, whose penal woes

+Both hope and justice mitigate, direct

+Tow'rds the steep rising our uncertain way."

+

+"If ye approach secure from this our doom,

+Prostration--and would urge your course with speed,

+See that ye still to rightward keep the brink."

+

+So them the bard besought; and such the words,

+Beyond us some short space, in answer came.

+

+I noted what remain'd yet hidden from them:

+Thence to my liege's eyes mine eyes I bent,

+And he, forthwith interpreting their suit,

+Beckon'd his glad assent. Free then to act,

+As pleas'd me, I drew near, and took my stand

+O`er that shade, whose words I late had mark'd.

+And, "Spirit!"  I said, "in whom repentant tears

+Mature that blessed hour, when thou with God

+Shalt find acceptance, for a while suspend

+For me that mightier care.  Say who thou wast,

+Why thus ye grovel on your bellies prone,

+And if in aught ye wish my service there,

+Whence living I am come."  He answering spake

+"The cause why Heav'n our back toward his cope

+Reverses, shalt thou know: but me know first

+The successor of Peter, and the name

+And title of my lineage from that stream,

+That' twixt Chiaveri and Siestri draws

+His limpid waters through the lowly glen.

+A month and little more by proof I learnt,

+With what a weight that robe of sov'reignty

+Upon his shoulder rests, who from the mire

+Would guard it: that each other fardel seems

+But feathers in the balance.  Late, alas!

+Was my conversion: but when I became

+Rome's pastor, I discern'd at once the dream

+And cozenage of life, saw that the heart

+Rested not there, and yet no prouder height

+Lur'd on the climber: wherefore, of that life

+No more enamour'd, in my bosom love

+Of purer being kindled.  For till then

+I was a soul in misery, alienate

+From God, and covetous of all earthly things;

+Now, as thou seest, here punish'd for my doting.

+Such cleansing from the taint of avarice

+Do spirits converted need.  This mount inflicts

+No direr penalty.  E'en as our eyes

+Fasten'd below, nor e'er to loftier clime

+Were lifted, thus hath justice level'd us

+Here on the earth.  As avarice quench'd our love

+Of good, without which is no working, thus

+Here justice holds us prison'd, hand and foot

+Chain'd down and bound, while heaven's just Lord shall please.

+So long to tarry motionless outstretch'd."

+

+My knees I stoop'd, and would have spoke; but he,

+Ere my beginning, by his ear perceiv'd

+I did him reverence; and "What cause," said he,

+"Hath bow'd thee thus!"--"Compunction," I rejoin'd.

+"And inward awe of your high dignity."

+

+"Up," he exclaim'd, "brother! upon thy feet

+Arise: err not: thy fellow servant I,

+(Thine and all others') of one Sovran Power.

+If thou hast ever mark'd those holy sounds

+Of gospel truth, 'nor shall be given ill marriage,'

+Thou mayst discern the reasons of my speech.

+Go thy ways now; and linger here no more.

+Thy tarrying is a let unto the tears,

+With which I hasten that whereof thou spak'st.

+I have on earth a kinswoman; her name

+Alagia, worthy in herself, so ill

+Example of our house corrupt her not:

+And she is all remaineth of me there."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XX

+

+Ill strives the will, 'gainst will more wise that strives

+His pleasure therefore to mine own preferr'd,

+I drew the sponge yet thirsty from the wave.

+

+Onward I mov'd: he also onward mov'd,

+Who led me, coasting still, wherever place

+Along the rock was vacant, as a man

+Walks near the battlements on narrow wall.

+For those on th' other part, who drop by drop

+Wring out their all-infecting malady,

+Too closely press the verge.  Accurst be thou!

+Inveterate wolf! whose gorge ingluts more prey,

+Than every beast beside, yet is not fill'd!

+So bottomless thy maw!--Ye spheres of heaven!

+To whom there are, as seems, who attribute

+All change in mortal state, when is the day

+Of his appearing, for whom fate reserves

+To chase her hence?--With wary steps and slow

+We pass'd; and I attentive to the shades,

+Whom piteously I heard lament and wail;

+

+And, 'midst the wailing, one before us heard

+Cry out "O blessed Virgin!"  as a dame

+In the sharp pangs of childbed; and "How poor

+Thou wast," it added, "witness that low roof

+Where thou didst lay thy sacred burden down.

+O good Fabricius! thou didst virtue choose

+With poverty, before great wealth with vice."

+

+The words so pleas'd me, that desire to know

+The spirit, from whose lip they seem'd to come,

+Did draw me onward.  Yet it spake the gift

+Of Nicholas, which on the maidens he

+Bounteous bestow'd, to save their youthful prime

+Unblemish'd.  "Spirit! who dost speak of deeds

+So worthy, tell me who thou was," I said,

+"And why thou dost with single voice renew

+Memorial of such praise. That boon vouchsaf'd

+Haply shall meet reward; if I return

+To finish the Short pilgrimage of life,

+Still speeding to its close on restless wing."

+

+"I," answer'd he, "will tell thee, not for hell,

+Which thence I look for; but that in thyself

+Grace so exceeding shines, before thy time

+Of mortal dissolution.  I was root

+Of that ill plant, whose shade such poison sheds

+O'er all the Christian land, that seldom thence

+Good fruit is gather'd.  Vengeance soon should come,

+Had Ghent and Douay, Lille and Bruges power;

+And vengeance I of heav'n's great Judge implore.

+Hugh Capet was I high: from me descend

+The Philips and the Louis, of whom France

+Newly is govern'd; born of one, who ply'd

+The slaughterer's trade at Paris.  When the race

+Of ancient kings had vanish'd (all save one

+Wrapt up in sable weeds) within my gripe

+I found the reins of empire, and such powers

+Of new acquirement, with full store of friends,

+That soon the widow'd circlet of the crown

+Was girt upon the temples of my son,

+He, from whose bones th' anointed race begins.

+Till the great dower of Provence had remov'd

+The stains, that yet obscur'd our lowly blood,

+Its sway indeed was narrow, but howe'er

+It wrought no evil: there, with force and lies,

+Began its rapine; after, for amends,

+Poitou it seiz'd, Navarre and Gascony.

+To Italy came Charles, and for amends

+Young Conradine an innocent victim slew,

+And sent th' angelic teacher back to heav'n,

+Still for amends.  I see the time at hand,

+That forth from France invites another Charles

+To make himself and kindred better known.

+Unarm'd he issues, saving with that lance,

+Which the arch-traitor tilted with; and that

+He carries with so home a thrust, as rives

+The bowels of poor Florence.  No increase

+Of territory hence, but sin and shame

+Shall be his guerdon, and so much the more

+As he more lightly deems of such foul wrong.

+I see the other, who a prisoner late

+Had steps on shore, exposing to the mart

+His daughter, whom he bargains for, as do

+The Corsairs for their slaves.  O avarice!

+What canst thou more, who hast subdued our blood

+So wholly to thyself, they feel no care

+Of their own flesh?  To hide with direr guilt

+Past ill and future, lo! the flower-de-luce

+Enters Alagna! in his Vicar Christ

+Himself a captive, and his mockery

+Acted again!  Lo! to his holy lip

+The vinegar and gall once more applied!

+And he 'twixt living robbers doom'd to bleed!

+Lo! the new Pilate, of whose cruelty

+Such violence cannot fill the measure up,

+With no degree to sanction, pushes on

+Into the temple his yet eager sails!

+

+"O sovran Master! when shall I rejoice

+To see the vengeance, which thy wrath well-pleas'd

+In secret silence broods?--While daylight lasts,

+So long what thou didst hear of her, sole spouse

+Of the Great Spirit, and on which thou turn'dst

+To me for comment, is the general theme

+Of all our prayers: but when it darkens, then

+A different strain we utter, then record

+Pygmalion, whom his gluttonous thirst of gold

+Made traitor, robber, parricide: the woes

+Of Midas, which his greedy wish ensued,

+Mark'd for derision to all future times:

+And the fond Achan, how he stole the prey,

+That yet he seems by Joshua's ire pursued.

+Sapphira with her husband next, we blame;

+And praise the forefeet, that with furious ramp

+Spurn'd Heliodorus.  All the mountain round

+Rings with the infamy of Thracia's king,

+Who slew his Phrygian charge: and last a shout

+Ascends: "Declare, O Crassus! for thou know'st,

+The flavour of thy gold."  The voice of each

+Now high now low, as each his impulse prompts,

+Is led through many a pitch, acute or grave.

+Therefore, not singly, I erewhile rehears'd

+That blessedness we tell of in the day:

+But near me none beside his accent rais'd."

+

+From him we now had parted, and essay'd

+With utmost efforts to surmount the way,

+When I did feel, as nodding to its fall,

+The mountain tremble; whence an icy chill

+Seiz'd on me, as on one to death convey'd.

+So shook not Delos, when Latona there

+Couch'd to bring forth the twin-born eyes of heaven.

+

+Forthwith from every side a shout arose

+So vehement, that suddenly my guide

+Drew near, and cried: "Doubt not, while I conduct thee."

+"Glory!" all shouted (such the sounds mine ear

+Gather'd from those, who near me swell'd the sounds)

+"Glory in the highest be to God."  We stood

+Immovably suspended, like to those,

+The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem's field

+That song: till ceas'd the trembling, and the song

+Was ended: then our hallow'd path resum'd,

+Eying the prostrate shadows, who renew'd

+Their custom'd mourning.  Never in my breast

+Did ignorance so struggle with desire

+Of knowledge, if my memory do not err,

+As in that moment; nor through haste dar'd I

+To question, nor myself could aught discern,

+So on I far'd in thoughtfulness and dread.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXI

+

+The natural thirst, ne'er quench'd but from the well,

+Whereof the woman of Samaria crav'd,

+Excited: haste along the cumber'd path,

+After my guide, impell'd; and pity mov'd

+My bosom for the 'vengeful deed, though just.

+When lo! even as Luke relates, that Christ

+Appear'd unto the two upon their way,

+New-risen from his vaulted grave; to us

+A shade appear'd, and after us approach'd,

+Contemplating the crowd beneath its feet.

+We were not ware of it; so first it spake,

+Saying, "God give you peace, my brethren!" then

+Sudden we turn'd: and Virgil such salute,

+As fitted that kind greeting, gave, and cried:

+"Peace in the blessed council be thy lot

+Awarded by that righteous court, which me

+To everlasting banishment exiles!"

+

+"How!" he exclaim'd, nor from his speed meanwhile

+Desisting, "If that ye be spirits, whom God

+Vouchsafes not room above, who up the height

+Has been thus far your guide?"  To whom the bard:

+"If thou observe the tokens, which this man

+Trac'd by the finger of the angel bears,

+'Tis plain that in the kingdom of the just

+He needs must share.  But sithence she, whose wheel

+Spins day and night, for him not yet had drawn

+That yarn, which, on the fatal distaff pil'd,

+Clotho apportions to each wight that breathes,

+His soul, that sister is to mine and thine,

+Not of herself could mount, for not like ours

+Her ken: whence I, from forth the ample gulf

+Of hell was ta'en, to lead him, and will lead

+Far as my lore avails.  But, if thou know,

+Instruct us for what cause, the mount erewhile

+Thus shook and trembled: wherefore all at once

+Seem'd shouting, even from his wave-wash'd foot."

+

+That questioning so tallied with my wish,

+The thirst did feel abatement of its edge

+E'en from expectance.  He forthwith replied,

+"In its devotion nought irregular

+This mount can witness, or by punctual rule

+Unsanction'd; here from every change exempt.

+Other than that, which heaven in itself

+Doth of itself receive, no influence

+Can reach us.  Tempest none, shower, hail or snow,

+Hoar frost or dewy moistness, higher falls

+Than that brief scale of threefold steps: thick clouds

+Nor scudding rack are ever seen: swift glance

+Ne'er lightens, nor Thaumantian Iris gleams,

+That yonder often shift on each side heav'n.

+Vapour adust doth never mount above

+The highest of the trinal stairs, whereon

+Peter's vicegerent stands.  Lower perchance,

+With various motion rock'd, trembles the soil:

+But here, through wind in earth's deep hollow pent,

+I know not how, yet never trembled: then

+Trembles, when any spirit feels itself

+So purified, that it may rise, or move

+For rising, and such loud acclaim ensues.

+Purification by the will alone

+Is prov'd, that free to change society

+Seizes the soul rejoicing in her will.

+Desire of bliss is present from the first;

+But strong propension hinders, to that wish

+By the just ordinance of heav'n oppos'd;

+Propension now as eager to fulfil

+Th' allotted torment, as erewhile to sin.

+And I who in this punishment had lain

+Five hundred years and more, but now have felt

+Free wish for happier clime.  Therefore thou felt'st

+The mountain tremble, and the spirits devout

+Heard'st, over all his limits, utter praise

+To that liege Lord, whom I entreat their joy

+To hasten."  Thus he spake: and since the draught

+Is grateful ever as the thirst is keen,

+No words may speak my fullness of content.

+

+"Now," said the instructor sage, "I see the net

+That takes ye here, and how the toils are loos'd,

+Why rocks the mountain and why ye rejoice.

+Vouchsafe, that from thy lips I next may learn,

+Who on the earth thou wast, and wherefore here

+So many an age wert prostrate."--"In that time,

+When the good Titus, with Heav'n's King to help,

+Aveng'd those piteous gashes, whence the blood

+By Judas sold did issue, with the name

+Most lasting and most honour'd there was I

+Abundantly renown'd," the shade reply'd,

+"Not yet with faith endued.  So passing sweet

+My vocal Spirit, from Tolosa, Rome

+To herself drew me, where I merited

+A myrtle garland to inwreathe my brow.

+Statius they name me still.  Of Thebes I sang,

+And next of great Achilles: but i' th' way

+Fell with the second burthen.  Of my flame

+Those sparkles were the seeds, which I deriv'd

+From the bright fountain of celestial fire

+That feeds unnumber'd lamps, the song I mean

+Which sounds Aeneas' wand'rings: that the breast

+I hung at, that the nurse, from whom my veins

+Drank inspiration: whose authority

+Was ever sacred with me.  To have liv'd

+Coeval with the Mantuan, I would bide

+The revolution of another sun

+Beyond my stated years in banishment."

+

+The Mantuan, when he heard him, turn'd to me,

+And holding silence: by his countenance

+Enjoin'd me silence but the power which wills,

+Bears not supreme control: laughter and tears

+Follow so closely on the passion prompts them,

+They wait not for the motions of the will

+In natures most sincere.  I did but smile,

+As one who winks; and thereupon the shade

+Broke off, and peer'd into mine eyes, where best

+Our looks interpret. "So to good event

+Mayst thou conduct such great emprize," he cried,

+"Say, why across thy visage beam'd, but now,

+The lightning of a smile!"  On either part

+Now am I straiten'd; one conjures me speak,

+Th' other to silence binds me: whence a sigh

+I utter, and the sigh is heard.  "Speak on;"

+The teacher cried; "and do not fear to speak,

+But tell him what so earnestly he asks."

+Whereon I thus: "Perchance, O ancient spirit!

+Thou marvel'st at my smiling. There is room

+For yet more wonder.  He who guides my ken

+On high, he is that Mantuan, led by whom

+Thou didst presume of men and gods to sing.

+If other cause thou deem'dst for which I smil'd,

+Leave it as not the true one; and believe

+Those words, thou spak'st of him, indeed the cause."

+

+Now down he bent t' embrace my teacher's feet;

+But he forbade him: "Brother! do it not:

+Thou art a shadow, and behold'st a shade."

+He rising answer'd thus: "Now hast thou prov'd

+The force and ardour of the love I bear thee,

+When I forget we are but things of air,

+And as a substance treat an empty shade."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXII

+

+Now we had left the angel, who had turn'd

+To the sixth circle our ascending step,

+One gash from off my forehead raz'd: while they,

+Whose wishes tend to justice, shouted forth:

+"Blessed!"  and ended with, "I thirst:" and I,

+More nimble than along the other straits,

+So journey'd, that, without the sense of toil,

+I follow'd upward the swift-footed shades;

+When Virgil thus began: "Let its pure flame

+From virtue flow, and love can never fail

+To warm another's bosom' so the light

+Shine manifestly forth.  Hence from that hour,

+When 'mongst us in the purlieus of the deep,

+Came down the spirit of Aquinum's hard,

+Who told of thine affection, my good will

+Hath been for thee of quality as strong

+As ever link'd itself to one not seen.

+Therefore these stairs will now seem short to me.

+But tell me: and if too secure I loose

+The rein with a friend's license, as a friend

+Forgive me, and speak now as with a friend:

+How chanc'd it covetous desire could find

+Place in that bosom, 'midst such ample store

+Of wisdom, as thy zeal had treasur'd there?"

+

+First somewhat mov'd to laughter by his words,

+Statius replied: "Each syllable of thine

+Is a dear pledge of love.  Things oft appear

+That minister false matters to our doubts,

+When their true causes are remov'd from sight.

+Thy question doth assure me, thou believ'st

+I was on earth a covetous man, perhaps

+Because thou found'st me in that circle plac'd.

+Know then I was too wide of avarice:

+And e'en for that excess, thousands of moons

+Have wax'd and wan'd upon my sufferings.

+And were it not that I with heedful care

+Noted where thou exclaim'st as if in ire

+With human nature, 'Why, thou cursed thirst

+Of gold! dost not with juster measure guide

+The appetite of mortals?'  I had met

+The fierce encounter of the voluble rock.

+Then was I ware that with too ample wing

+The hands may haste to lavishment, and turn'd,

+As from my other evil, so from this

+In penitence.  How many from their grave

+Shall with shorn locks arise, who living, aye

+And at life's last extreme, of this offence,

+Through ignorance, did not repent.  And know,

+The fault which lies direct from any sin

+In level opposition, here With that

+Wastes its green rankness on one common heap.

+Therefore if I have been with those, who wail

+Their avarice, to cleanse me, through reverse

+Of their transgression, such hath been my lot."

+

+To whom the sovran of the pastoral song:

+"While thou didst sing that cruel warfare wag'd

+By the twin sorrow of Jocasta's womb,

+From thy discourse with Clio there, it seems

+As faith had not been shine: without the which

+Good deeds suffice not.  And if so, what sun

+Rose on thee, or what candle pierc'd the dark

+That thou didst after see to hoist the sail,

+And follow, where the fisherman had led?"

+

+He answering thus: "By thee conducted first,

+I enter'd the Parnassian grots, and quaff'd

+Of the clear spring; illumin'd first by thee

+Open'd mine eyes to God.  Thou didst, as one,

+Who, journeying through the darkness, hears a light

+Behind, that profits not himself, but makes

+His followers wise, when thou exclaimedst, 'Lo!

+A renovated world!  Justice return'd!

+Times of primeval innocence restor'd!

+And a new race descended from above!'

+Poet and Christian both to thee I owed.

+That thou mayst mark more clearly what I trace,

+My hand shall stretch forth to inform the lines

+With livelier colouring.  Soon o'er all the world,

+By messengers from heav'n, the true belief

+Teem'd now prolific, and that word of thine

+Accordant, to the new instructors chim'd.

+Induc'd by which agreement, I was wont

+Resort to them; and soon their sanctity

+So won upon me, that, Domitian's rage

+Pursuing them, I mix'd my tears with theirs,

+And, while on earth I stay'd, still succour'd them;

+And their most righteous customs made me scorn

+All sects besides.  Before I led the Greeks

+In tuneful fiction, to the streams of Thebes,

+I was baptiz'd; but secretly, through fear,

+Remain'd a Christian, and conform'd long time

+To Pagan rites.  Five centuries and more,

+T for that lukewarmness was fain to pace

+Round the fourth circle.  Thou then, who hast rais'd

+The covering, which did hide such blessing from me,

+Whilst much of this ascent is yet to climb,

+Say, if thou know, where our old Terence bides,

+Caecilius, Plautus, Varro: if condemn'd

+They dwell, and in what province of the deep."

+"These," said my guide, "with Persius and myself,

+And others many more, are with that Greek,

+Of mortals, the most cherish'd by the Nine,

+In the first ward of darkness.  There ofttimes

+We of that mount hold converse, on whose top

+For aye our nurses live.  We have the bard

+Of Pella, and the Teian, Agatho,

+Simonides, and many a Grecian else

+Ingarlanded with laurel.  Of thy train

+Antigone is there, Deiphile,

+Argia, and as sorrowful as erst

+Ismene, and who show'd Langia's wave:

+Deidamia with her sisters there,

+And blind Tiresias' daughter, and the bride

+Sea-born of Peleus."  Either poet now

+Was silent, and no longer by th' ascent

+Or the steep walls obstructed, round them cast

+Inquiring eyes.  Four handmaids of the day

+Had finish'd now their office, and the fifth

+Was at the chariot-beam, directing still

+Its balmy point aloof, when thus my guide:

+"Methinks, it well behooves us to the brink

+Bend the right shoulder' circuiting the mount,

+As we have ever us'd."  So custom there

+Was usher to the road, the which we chose

+Less doubtful, as that worthy shade complied.

+

+They on before me went; I sole pursued,

+List'ning their speech, that to my thoughts convey'd

+Mysterious lessons of sweet poesy.

+But soon they ceas'd; for midway of the road

+A tree we found, with goodly fruitage hung,

+And pleasant to the smell: and as a fir

+Upward from bough to bough less ample spreads,

+So downward this less ample spread, that none.

+Methinks, aloft may climb.  Upon the side,

+That clos'd our path, a liquid crystal fell

+From the steep rock, and through the sprays above

+Stream'd showering.  With associate step the bards

+Drew near the plant; and from amidst the leaves

+A voice was heard: "Ye shall be chary of me;"

+And after added: "Mary took more thought

+For joy and honour of the nuptial feast,

+Than for herself who answers now for you.

+The women of old Rome were satisfied

+With water for their beverage.  Daniel fed

+On pulse, and wisdom gain'd.  The primal age

+Was beautiful as gold; and hunger then

+Made acorns tasteful, thirst each rivulet

+Run nectar.  Honey and locusts were the food,

+Whereon the Baptist in the wilderness

+Fed, and that eminence of glory reach'd

+And greatness, which the' Evangelist records."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIII

+

+On the green leaf mine eyes were fix'd, like his

+Who throws away his days in idle chase

+Of the diminutive, when thus I heard

+The more than father warn me: "Son! our time

+Asks thriftier using.  Linger not: away."

+

+Thereat my face and steps at once I turn'd

+Toward the sages, by whose converse cheer'd

+I journey'd on, and felt no toil: and lo!

+A sound of weeping and a song: "My lips,

+O Lord!" and these so mingled, it gave birth

+To pleasure and to pain.  "O Sire, belov'd!

+Say what is this I hear?"  Thus I inquir'd.

+

+"Spirits," said he, "who as they go, perchance,

+Their debt of duty pay."  As on their road

+The thoughtful pilgrims, overtaking some

+Not known unto them, turn to them, and look,

+But stay not; thus, approaching from behind

+With speedier motion, eyed us, as they pass'd,

+A crowd of spirits, silent and devout.

+The eyes of each were dark and hollow: pale

+Their visage, and so lean withal, the bones

+Stood staring thro' the skin.  I do not think

+Thus dry and meagre Erisicthon show'd,

+When pinc'ed by sharp-set famine to the quick.

+

+"Lo!" to myself I mus'd, "the race, who lost

+Jerusalem, when Mary with dire beak

+Prey'd on her child."  The sockets seem'd as rings,

+From which the gems were drops.  Who reads the name

+Of man upon his forehead, there the M

+Had trac'd most plainly.  Who would deem, that scent

+Of water and an apple, could have prov'd

+Powerful to generate such pining want,

+Not knowing how it wrought?  While now I stood

+Wond'ring what thus could waste them (for the cause

+Of their gaunt hollowness and scaly rind

+Appear'd not) lo! a spirit turn'd his eyes

+In their deep-sunken cell, and fasten'd then

+On me, then cried with vehemence aloud:

+"What grace is this vouchsaf'd me?"  By his looks

+I ne'er had recogniz'd him: but the voice

+Brought to my knowledge what his cheer conceal'd.

+Remembrance of his alter'd lineaments

+Was kindled from that spark; and I agniz'd

+The visage of Forese.  "Ah! respect

+This wan and leprous wither'd skin," thus he

+Suppliant implor'd, "this macerated flesh.

+Speak to me truly of thyself.  And who

+Are those twain spirits, that escort thee there?

+Be it not said thou Scorn'st to talk with me."

+

+"That face of thine," I answer'd him, "which dead

+I once bewail'd, disposes me not less

+For weeping, when I see It thus transform'd.

+Say then, by Heav'n, what blasts ye thus?  The whilst

+I wonder, ask not Speech from me: unapt

+Is he to speak, whom other will employs."

+

+He thus: "The water and tee plant we pass'd,

+Virtue possesses, by th' eternal will

+Infus'd, the which so pines me.  Every spirit,

+Whose song bewails his gluttony indulg'd

+Too grossly, here in hunger and in thirst

+Is purified.  The odour, which the fruit,

+And spray, that showers upon the verdure, breathe,

+Inflames us with desire to feed and drink.

+Nor once alone encompassing our route

+We come to add fresh fuel to the pain:

+Pain, said Iolace rather: for that will

+To the tree leads us, by which Christ was led

+To call Elias, joyful when he paid

+Our ransom from his vein."  I answering thus:

+"Forese! from that day, in which the world

+For better life thou changedst, not five years

+Have circled.  If the power of sinning more

+Were first concluded in thee, ere thou knew'st

+That kindly grief, which re-espouses us

+To God, how hither art thou come so soon?

+I thought to find thee lower, there, where time

+Is recompense for time."  He straight replied:

+"To drink up the sweet wormwood of affliction

+I have been brought thus early by the tears

+Stream'd down my Nella's cheeks.  Her prayers devout,

+Her sighs have drawn me from the coast, where oft

+Expectance lingers, and have set me free

+From th' other circles.  In the sight of God

+So much the dearer is my widow priz'd,

+She whom I lov'd so fondly, as she ranks

+More singly eminent for virtuous deeds.

+The tract most barb'rous of Sardinia's isle,

+Hath dames more chaste and modester by far

+Than that wherein I left her.  O sweet brother!

+What wouldst thou have me say?  A time to come

+Stands full within my view, to which this hour

+Shall not be counted of an ancient date,

+When from the pulpit shall be loudly warn'd

+Th' unblushing dames of Florence, lest they bare

+Unkerchief'd bosoms to the common gaze.

+What savage women hath the world e'er seen,

+What Saracens, for whom there needed scourge

+Of spiritual or other discipline,

+To force them walk with cov'ring on their limbs!

+But did they see, the shameless ones, that Heav'n

+Wafts on swift wing toward them, while I speak,

+Their mouths were op'd for howling: they shall taste

+Of Borrow (unless foresight cheat me here)

+Or ere the cheek of him be cloth'd with down

+Who is now rock'd with lullaby asleep.

+Ah! now, my brother, hide thyself no more,

+Thou seest how not I alone but all

+Gaze, where thou veil'st the intercepted sun."

+

+Whence I replied: "If thou recall to mind

+What we were once together, even yet

+Remembrance of those days may grieve thee sore.

+That I forsook that life, was due to him

+Who there precedes me, some few evenings past,

+When she was round, who shines with sister lamp

+To his, that glisters yonder," and I show'd

+The sun.  "Tis he, who through profoundest night

+Of he true dead has brought me, with this flesh

+As true, that follows.  From that gloom the aid

+Of his sure comfort drew me on to climb,

+And climbing wind along this mountain-steep,

+Which rectifies in you whate'er the world

+Made crooked and deprav'd I have his word,

+That he will bear me company as far

+As till I come where Beatrice dwells:

+But there must leave me.  Virgil is that spirit,

+Who thus hath promis'd,"  and I pointed to him;

+"The other is that shade, for whom so late

+Your realm, as he arose, exulting shook

+Through every pendent cliff and rocky bound."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIV

+

+Our journey was not slacken'd by our talk,

+Nor yet our talk by journeying.  Still we spake,

+And urg'd our travel stoutly, like a ship

+When the wind sits astern.  The shadowy forms,

+

+That seem'd things dead and dead again, drew in

+At their deep-delved orbs rare wonder of me,

+Perceiving I had life; and I my words

+Continued, and thus spake; "He journeys up

+Perhaps more tardily then else he would,

+For others' sake.  But tell me, if thou know'st,

+Where is Piccarda?  Tell me, if I see

+Any of mark, among this multitude,

+Who eye me thus."--"My sister (she for whom,

+'Twixt beautiful and good I cannot say

+Which name was fitter ) wears e'en now her crown,

+And triumphs in Olympus."  Saying this,

+He added: "Since spare diet hath so worn

+Our semblance out, 't is lawful here to name

+Each one.  This," and his finger then he rais'd,

+"Is Buonaggiuna,--Buonaggiuna, he

+Of Lucca: and that face beyond him, pierc'd

+Unto a leaner fineness than the rest,

+Had keeping of the church: he was of Tours,

+And purges by wan abstinence away

+Bolsena's eels and cups of muscadel."

+

+He show'd me many others, one by one,

+And all, as they were nam'd, seem'd well content;

+For no dark gesture I discern'd in any.

+I saw through hunger Ubaldino grind

+His teeth on emptiness; and Boniface,

+That wav'd the crozier o'er a num'rous flock.

+I saw the Marquis, who tad time erewhile

+To swill at Forli with less drought, yet so

+Was one ne'er sated.  I howe'er, like him,

+That gazing 'midst a crowd, singles out one,

+So singled him of Lucca; for methought

+Was none amongst them took such note of me.

+Somewhat I heard him whisper of Gentucca:

+The sound was indistinct, and murmur'd there,

+Where justice, that so strips them, fix'd her sting.

+

+"Spirit!" said I, "it seems as thou wouldst fain

+Speak with me.  Let me hear thee.  Mutual wish

+To converse prompts, which let us both indulge."

+

+He, answ'ring, straight began: "Woman is born,

+Whose brow no wimple shades yet, that shall make

+My city please thee, blame it as they may.

+Go then with this forewarning.  If aught false

+My whisper too implied, th' event shall tell

+But say, if of a  truth I see the man

+Of that new lay th' inventor, which begins

+With 'Ladies, ye that con the lore of love'."

+

+To whom I thus: "Count of me but as one

+Who am the scribe of love; that, when he breathes,

+Take up my pen, and, as he dictates, write."

+

+"Brother!" said he, "the hind'rance which once held

+The notary with Guittone and myself,

+Short of that new and sweeter style I hear,

+Is now disclos'd.  I see how ye your plumes

+Stretch, as th' inditer guides them; which, no question,

+Ours did not.  He that seeks a grace beyond,

+Sees not the distance parts one style from other."

+And, as contented, here he held his peace.

+

+Like as the bird, that winter near the Nile,

+In squared regiment direct their course,

+Then stretch themselves in file for speedier flight;

+Thus all the tribe of spirits, as they turn'd

+Their visage, faster deaf, nimble alike

+Through leanness and desire.  And as a man,

+Tir'd With the motion of a trotting steed,

+Slacks pace, and stays behind his company,

+Till his o'erbreathed lungs keep temperate time;

+E'en so Forese let that holy crew

+Proceed, behind them lingering at my side,

+And saying: "When shall I again behold thee?"

+

+"How long my life may last," said I, "I know not;

+This know, how soon soever I return,

+My wishes will before me have arriv'd.

+Sithence the place, where I am set to live,

+Is, day by day, more scoop'd of all its good,

+And dismal ruin seems to threaten it."

+

+"Go now," he cried: "lo! he, whose guilt is most,

+Passes before my vision, dragg'd at heels

+Of an infuriate beast.  Toward the vale,

+Where guilt hath no redemption, on it speeds,

+Each step increasing swiftness on the last;

+Until a blow it strikes, that leaveth him

+A corse most vilely shatter'd.  No long space

+Those wheels have yet to roll"  (therewith his eyes

+Look'd up to heav'n) "ere thou shalt plainly see

+That which my words may not more plainly tell.

+I quit thee: time is precious here: I lose

+Too much, thus measuring my pace with shine."

+

+As from a troop of well-rank'd chivalry

+One knight, more enterprising than the rest,

+Pricks forth at gallop, eager to display

+His prowess in the first encounter prov'd

+So parted he from us with lengthen'd strides,

+And left me on the way with those twain spirits,

+Who were such mighty marshals of the world.

+

+When he beyond us had so fled mine eyes

+No nearer reach'd him, than my thought his words,

+The branches of another fruit, thick hung,

+And blooming fresh, appear'd.  E'en as our steps

+Turn'd thither, not far off it rose to view.

+Beneath it were a multitude, that rais'd

+Their hands, and shouted forth I know not What

+Unto the boughs; like greedy and fond brats,

+That beg, and answer none obtain from him,

+Of whom they beg; but more to draw them on,

+He at arm's length the object of their wish

+Above them holds aloft, and hides it not.

+

+At length, as undeceiv'd they went their way:

+And we approach the tree, who vows and tears

+Sue to in vain, the mighty tree.  "Pass on,

+And come not near.  Stands higher up the wood,

+Whereof Eve tasted, and from it was ta'en

+'this plant." Such sounds from midst the thickets came.

+Whence I, with either bard, close to the side

+That rose, pass'd forth beyond.  "Remember," next

+We heard, "those noblest creatures of the clouds,

+How they their twofold bosoms overgorg'd

+Oppos'd in fight to Theseus: call to mind

+The Hebrews, how effeminate they stoop'd

+To ease their thirst; whence Gideon's ranks were thinn'd,

+As he to Midian march'd adown the hills."

+

+Thus near one border coasting, still we heard

+The sins of gluttony, with woe erewhile

+Reguerdon'd.  Then along the lonely path,

+Once more at large, full thousand paces on

+We travel'd, each contemplative and mute.

+

+"Why pensive journey thus ye three alone?"

+Thus suddenly a voice exclaim'd: whereat

+I shook, as doth a scar'd and paltry beast;

+Then rais'd my head to look from whence it came.

+

+Was ne'er, in furnace, glass, or metal seen

+So bright and glowing red, as was the shape

+I now beheld.  "If ye desire to mount,"

+He cried, "here must ye turn.  This way he goes,

+Who goes in quest of peace."  His countenance

+Had dazzled me; and to my guides I fac'd

+Backward, like one who walks, as sound directs.

+

+As when, to harbinger the dawn, springs up

+On freshen'd wing the air of May, and breathes

+Of fragrance, all impregn'd with herb and flowers,

+E'en such a wind I felt upon my front

+Blow gently, and the moving of a wing

+Perceiv'd, that moving shed ambrosial smell;

+And then a voice: "Blessed are they, whom grace

+Doth so illume, that appetite in them

+Exhaleth no inordinate desire,

+Still hung'ring as the rule of temperance wills."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXV

+

+It was an hour, when he who climbs, had need

+To walk uncrippled: for the sun had now

+To Taurus the meridian circle left,

+And to the Scorpion left the night.  As one

+That makes no pause, but presses on his road,

+Whate'er betide him, if some urgent need

+Impel: so enter'd we upon our way,

+One before other; for, but singly, none

+That steep and narrow scale admits to climb.

+

+E'en as the young stork lifteth up his wing

+Through wish to fly, yet ventures not to quit

+The nest, and drops it; so in me desire

+Of questioning my guide arose, and fell,

+Arriving even to the act, that marks

+A man prepar'd for speech.  Him all our haste

+Restrain'd not, but thus spake the sire belov'd:

+Fear not to speed the shaft, that on thy lip

+Stands trembling for its flight.  Encourag'd thus

+I straight began: "How there can leanness come,

+Where is no want of nourishment to feed?"

+

+"If thou," he answer'd, "hadst remember'd thee,

+How Meleager with the wasting brand

+Wasted alike, by equal fires consum'd,

+This would not trouble thee: and hadst thou thought,

+How in the mirror your reflected form

+With mimic motion vibrates, what now seems

+Hard, had appear'd no harder than the pulp

+Of summer fruit mature.  But that thy will

+In certainty may find its full repose,

+Lo Statius here! on him I call, and pray

+That he would now be healer of thy wound."

+

+"If in thy presence I unfold to him

+The secrets of heaven's vengeance, let me plead

+Thine own injunction, to exculpate me."

+So Statius answer'd, and forthwith began:

+"Attend my words, O son, and in thy mind

+Receive them: so shall they be light to clear

+The doubt thou offer'st. Blood, concocted well,

+Which by the thirsty veins is ne'er imbib'd,

+And rests as food superfluous, to be ta'en

+From the replenish'd table, in the heart

+Derives effectual virtue, that informs

+The several human limbs, as being that,

+Which passes through the veins itself to make them.

+Yet more concocted it descends, where shame

+Forbids to mention: and from thence distils

+In natural vessel on another's blood.

+Then each unite together, one dispos'd

+T' endure, to act the other, through meet frame

+Of its recipient mould: that being reach'd,

+It 'gins to work, coagulating first;

+Then vivifies what its own substance caus'd

+To bear.  With animation now indued,

+The active virtue (differing from a plant

+No further, than that this is on the way

+And at its limit that) continues yet

+To operate, that now it moves, and feels,

+As sea sponge clinging to the rock: and there

+Assumes th' organic powers its seed convey'd.

+'This is the period, son! at which the virtue,

+That from the generating heart proceeds,

+Is pliant and expansive; for each limb

+Is in the heart by forgeful nature plann'd.

+How babe of animal becomes, remains

+For thy consid'ring.  At this point, more wise,

+Than thou hast err'd, making the soul disjoin'd

+From passive intellect, because he saw

+No organ for the latter's use assign'd.

+

+"Open thy bosom to the truth that comes.

+Know soon as in the embryo, to the brain,

+Articulation is complete, then turns

+The primal Mover with a smile of joy

+On such great work of nature, and imbreathes

+New spirit replete with virtue, that what here

+Active it finds, to its own substance draws,

+And forms an individual soul, that lives,

+And feels, and bends reflective on itself.

+And that thou less mayst marvel at the word,

+Mark the sun's heat, how that to wine doth change,

+Mix'd with the moisture filter'd through the vine.

+

+"When Lachesis hath spun the thread, the soul

+Takes with her both the human and divine,

+Memory, intelligence, and will, in act

+Far keener than before, the other powers

+Inactive all and mute.  No pause allow'd,

+In wond'rous sort self-moving, to one strand

+Of those, where the departed roam, she falls,

+Here learns her destin'd path.  Soon as the place

+Receives her, round the plastic virtue beams,

+Distinct as in the living limbs before:

+And as the air, when saturate with showers,

+The casual beam refracting, decks itself

+With many a hue; so here the ambient air

+Weareth that form, which influence of the soul

+Imprints on it; and like the flame, that where

+The fire moves, thither follows, so henceforth

+The new form on the spirit follows still:

+Hence hath it semblance, and is shadow call'd,

+With each sense even to the sight endued:

+Hence speech is ours, hence laughter, tears, and sighs

+Which thou mayst oft have witness'd on the mount

+Th' obedient shadow fails not to present

+Whatever varying passion moves within us.

+And this the cause of what thou marvel'st at."

+

+Now the last flexure of our way we reach'd,

+And to the right hand turning, other care

+Awaits us.  Here the rocky precipice

+Hurls forth redundant flames, and from the rim

+A blast upblown, with forcible rebuff

+Driveth them back, sequester'd from its bound.

+

+Behoov'd us, one by one, along the side,

+That border'd on the void, to pass; and I

+Fear'd on one hand the fire, on th' other fear'd

+Headlong to fall: when thus th' instructor warn'd:

+"Strict rein must in this place direct the eyes.

+A little swerving and the way is lost."

+

+Then from the bosom of the burning mass,

+"O God of mercy!" heard I sung; and felt

+No less desire to turn.  And when I saw

+Spirits along the flame proceeding, I

+Between their footsteps and mine own was fain

+To share by turns my view.  At the hymn's close

+They shouted loud, "I do not know a man;"

+Then in low voice again took up the strain,

+Which once more ended, "To the wood," they cried,

+"Ran Dian, and drave forth Callisto, stung

+With Cytherea's poison:" then return'd

+Unto their song; then marry a pair extoll'd,

+Who liv'd in virtue chastely, and the bands

+Of wedded love.  Nor from that task, I ween,

+Surcease they; whilesoe'er the scorching fire

+Enclasps them.  Of such skill appliance needs

+To medicine the wound, that healeth last.

+

+

+CANTO XXVI

+

+While singly thus along the rim we walk'd,

+Oft the good master warn'd me: "Look thou well.

+Avail it that I caution thee."  The sun

+Now all the western clime irradiate chang'd

+From azure tinct to white; and, as I pass'd,

+My passing shadow made the umber'd flame

+Burn ruddier.  At so strange a sight I mark'd

+That many a spirit marvel'd on his way.

+

+This bred occasion first to speak of me,

+"He seems," said they, "no insubstantial frame:"

+Then to obtain what certainty they might,

+Stretch'd towards me, careful not to overpass

+The burning pale.  "O thou, who followest

+The others, haply not more slow than they,

+But mov'd by rev'rence, answer me, who burn

+In thirst and fire: nor I alone, but these

+All for thine answer do more thirst, than doth

+Indian or Aethiop for the cooling stream.

+Tell us, how is it that thou mak'st thyself

+A wall against the sun, as thou not yet

+Into th' inextricable toils of death

+Hadst enter'd?"  Thus spake one, and I had straight

+Declar'd me, if attention had not turn'd

+To new appearance.  Meeting these, there came,

+Midway the burning path, a crowd, on whom

+Earnestly gazing, from each part I view

+The shadows all press forward, sev'rally

+Each snatch a hasty kiss, and then away.

+E'en so the emmets, 'mid their dusky troops,

+Peer closely one at other, to spy out

+Their mutual road perchance, and how they thrive.

+

+That friendly greeting parted, ere dispatch

+Of the first onward step, from either tribe

+Loud clamour rises: those, who newly come,

+Shout "Sodom and Gomorrah!" these, "The cow

+Pasiphae enter'd, that the beast she woo'd

+Might rush unto her luxury."  Then as cranes,

+That part towards the Riphaean mountains fly,

+Part towards the Lybic sands, these to avoid

+The ice, and those the sun; so hasteth off

+One crowd, advances th' other; and resume

+Their first song weeping, and their several shout.

+

+Again drew near my side the very same,

+Who had erewhile besought me, and their looks

+Mark'd eagerness to listen.  I, who twice

+Their will had noted, spake: "O spirits secure,

+Whene'er the time may be, of peaceful end!

+My limbs, nor crude, nor in mature old age,

+Have I left yonder: here they bear me, fed

+With blood, and sinew-strung.  That I no more

+May live in blindness, hence I tend aloft.

+There is a dame on high, who wind for us

+This grace, by which my mortal through your realm

+I bear.  But may your utmost wish soon meet

+Such full fruition, that the orb of heaven,

+Fullest of love, and of most ample space,

+Receive you, as ye tell (upon my page

+Henceforth to stand recorded) who ye are,

+And what this multitude, that at your backs

+Have past behind us."  As one, mountain-bred,

+Rugged and clownish, if some city's walls

+He chance to enter, round him stares agape,

+Confounded and struck dumb; e'en such appear'd

+Each spirit.  But when rid of that amaze,

+(Not long the inmate of a noble heart)

+He, who before had question'd, thus resum'd:

+"O blessed, who, for death preparing, tak'st

+Experience of our limits, in thy bark!

+Their crime, who not with us proceed, was that,

+For which, as he did triumph, Caesar heard

+The snout of 'queen,' to taunt him.  Hence their cry

+Of 'Sodom,' as they parted, to rebuke

+Themselves, and aid the burning by their shame.

+Our sinning was Hermaphrodite: but we,

+Because the law of human kind we broke,

+Following like beasts our vile concupiscence,

+Hence parting from them, to our own disgrace

+Record the name of her, by whom the beast

+In bestial tire was acted.  Now our deeds

+Thou know'st, and how we sinn'd.  If thou by name

+Wouldst haply know us, time permits not now

+To tell so much, nor can I.  Of myself

+Learn what thou wishest.  Guinicelli I,

+Who having truly sorrow'd ere my last,

+Already cleanse me."  With such pious joy,

+As the two sons upon their mother gaz'd

+From sad Lycurgus rescu'd, such my joy

+(Save that I more represt it) when I heard

+From his own lips the name of him pronounc'd,

+Who was a father to me, and to those

+My betters, who have ever us'd the sweet

+And pleasant rhymes of love.  So nought I heard

+Nor spake, but long time thoughtfully I went,

+Gazing on him; and, only for the fire,

+Approach'd not nearer.  When my eyes were fed

+By looking on him, with such solemn pledge,

+As forces credence, I devoted me

+Unto his service wholly.  In reply

+He thus bespake me: "What from thee I hear

+Is grav'd so deeply on my mind, the waves

+Of Lethe shall not wash it off, nor make

+A whit less lively.  But as now thy oath

+Has seal'd the truth, declare what cause impels

+That love, which both thy looks and speech bewray."

+

+"Those dulcet lays," I answer'd, "which, as long

+As of our tongue the beauty does not fade,

+Shall make us love the very ink that trac'd them."

+

+"Brother!"  he cried, and pointed at a shade

+Before him, "there is one, whose mother speech

+Doth owe to him a fairer ornament.

+He in love ditties and the tales of prose

+Without a rival stands, and lets the fools

+Talk on, who think the songster of Limoges

+O'ertops him.  Rumour and the popular voice

+They look to more than truth, and so confirm

+Opinion, ere by art or reason taught.

+Thus many of the elder time cried up

+Guittone, giving him the prize, till truth

+By strength of numbers vanquish'd.  If thou own

+So ample privilege, as to have gain'd

+Free entrance to the cloister, whereof Christ

+Is Abbot of the college, say to him

+One paternoster for me, far as needs

+For dwellers in this world, where power to sin

+No longer tempts us."  Haply to make way

+For one, that follow'd next, when that was said,

+He vanish'd through the fire, as through the wave

+A fish, that glances diving to the deep.

+

+I, to the spirit he had shown me, drew

+A little onward, and besought his name,

+For which my heart, I said, kept gracious room.

+He frankly thus began: "Thy courtesy

+So wins on me, I have nor power nor will

+To hide me.  I am Arnault; and with songs,

+Sorely lamenting for my folly past,

+Thorough this ford of fire I wade, and see

+The day, I hope for, smiling in my view.

+I pray ye by the worth that guides ye up

+Unto the summit of the scale, in time

+Remember ye my suff'rings."  With such words

+He disappear'd in the refining flame.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXVII

+

+Now was the sun so station'd, as when first

+His early radiance quivers on the heights,

+Where stream'd his Maker's blood, while Libra hangs

+Above Hesperian Ebro, and new fires

+Meridian flash on Ganges' yellow tide.

+

+So day was sinking, when the' angel of God

+Appear'd before us.  Joy was in his mien.

+Forth of the flame he stood upon the brink,

+And with a voice, whose lively clearness far

+Surpass'd our human, "Blessed are the pure

+In heart," he Sang: then near him as we came,

+"Go ye not further, holy spirits!"  he cried,

+"Ere the fire pierce you: enter in; and list

+Attentive to the song ye hear from thence."

+

+I, when I heard his saying, was as one

+Laid in the grave.  My hands together clasp'd,

+And upward stretching, on the fire I look'd,

+And busy fancy conjur'd up the forms

+Erewhile beheld alive consum'd in flames.

+

+Th' escorting spirits turn'd with gentle looks

+Toward me, and the Mantuan spake: "My son,

+Here torment thou mayst feel, but canst not death.

+Remember thee, remember thee, if I

+Safe e'en on Geryon brought thee: now I come

+More near to God, wilt thou not trust me now?

+Of this be sure: though in its womb that flame

+A thousand years contain'd thee, from thy head

+No hair should perish.  If thou doubt my truth,

+Approach, and with thy hands thy vesture's hem

+Stretch forth, and for thyself confirm belief.

+Lay now all fear, O lay all fear aside.

+Turn hither, and come onward undismay'd."

+I still, though conscience urg'd' no step advanc'd.

+

+When still he saw me fix'd and obstinate,

+Somewhat disturb'd he cried: "Mark now, my son,

+From Beatrice thou art by this wall

+Divided."  As at Thisbe's name the eye

+Of Pyramus was open'd (when life ebb'd

+Fast from his veins), and took one parting glance,

+While vermeil dyed the mulberry; thus I turn'd

+To my sage guide, relenting, when I heard

+The name, that springs forever in my breast.

+

+He shook his forehead; and, "How long," he said,

+"Linger we now?"  then smil'd, as one would smile

+Upon a child, that eyes the fruit and yields.

+Into the fire before me then he walk'd;

+And Statius, who erewhile no little space

+Had parted us, he pray'd to come behind.

+

+I would have cast me into molten glass

+To cool me, when I enter'd; so intense

+Rag'd the conflagrant mass.  The sire belov'd,

+To comfort me, as he proceeded, still

+Of Beatrice talk'd.  "Her eyes," saith he,

+"E'en now I seem to view."  From the other side

+A voice, that sang, did guide us, and the voice

+Following, with heedful ear, we issued forth,

+There where the path led upward.  "Come," we heard,

+"Come, blessed of my Father."  Such the sounds,

+That hail'd us from within a light, which shone

+So radiant, I could not endure the view.

+"The sun," it added, "hastes: and evening comes.

+Delay not: ere the western sky is hung

+With blackness, strive ye for the pass."  Our way

+Upright within the rock arose, and fac'd

+Such part of heav'n, that from before my steps

+The beams were shrouded of the sinking sun.

+

+Nor many stairs were overpass, when now

+By fading of the shadow we perceiv'd

+The sun behind us couch'd: and ere one face

+Of darkness o'er its measureless expanse

+Involv'd th' horizon, and the night her lot

+Held individual, each of us had made

+A stair his pallet: not that will, but power,

+Had fail'd us, by the nature of that mount

+Forbidden further travel.  As the goats,

+That late have skipp'd and wanton'd rapidly

+Upon the craggy cliffs, ere they had ta'en

+Their supper on the herb, now silent lie

+And ruminate beneath the umbrage brown,

+While noonday rages; and the goatherd leans

+Upon his staff, and leaning watches them:

+And as the swain, that lodges out all night

+In quiet by his flock, lest beast of prey

+Disperse them; even so all three abode,

+I as a goat and as the shepherds they,

+Close pent on either side by shelving rock.

+

+A little glimpse of sky was seen above;

+Yet by that little I beheld the stars

+In magnitude and rustle shining forth

+With more than wonted glory.  As I lay,

+Gazing on them, and in that fit of musing,

+Sleep overcame me, sleep, that bringeth oft

+Tidings of future hap.  About the hour,

+As I believe, when Venus from the east

+First lighten'd on the mountain, she whose orb

+Seems always glowing with the fire of love,

+A lady young and beautiful, I dream'd,

+Was passing o'er a lea; and, as she came,

+Methought I saw her ever and anon

+Bending to cull the flowers; and thus she sang:

+"Know ye, whoever of my name would ask,

+That I am Leah: for my brow to weave

+A garland, these fair hands unwearied ply.

+To please me at the crystal mirror, here

+I deck me.  But my sister Rachel, she

+Before her glass abides the livelong day,

+Her radiant eyes beholding, charm'd no less,

+Than I with this delightful task.  Her joy

+In contemplation, as in labour mine."

+

+And now as glimm'ring dawn appear'd, that breaks

+More welcome to the pilgrim still, as he

+Sojourns less distant on his homeward way,

+Darkness from all sides fled, and with it fled

+My slumber; whence I rose and saw my guide

+Already risen.  "That delicious fruit,

+Which through so many a branch the zealous care

+Of mortals roams in quest of, shall this day

+Appease thy hunger."  Such the words I heard

+From Virgil's lip; and never greeting heard

+So pleasant as the sounds.  Within me straight

+Desire so grew upon desire to mount,

+Thenceforward at each step I felt the wings

+Increasing for my flight.  When we had run

+O'er all the ladder to its topmost round,

+As there we stood, on me the Mantuan fix'd

+His eyes, and thus he spake: "Both fires, my son,

+The temporal and eternal, thou hast seen,

+And art arriv'd, where of itself my ken

+No further reaches.  I with skill and art

+Thus far have drawn thee.  Now thy pleasure take

+For guide.  Thou hast o'ercome the steeper way,

+O'ercome the straighter.  Lo! the sun, that darts

+His beam upon thy forehead! lo! the herb,

+The arboreta and flowers, which of itself

+This land pours forth profuse!  Will those bright eyes

+With gladness come, which, weeping, made me haste

+To succour thee, thou mayst or seat thee down,

+Or wander where thou wilt.  Expect no more

+Sanction of warning voice or sign from me,

+Free of thy own arbitrement to choose,

+Discreet, judicious.  To distrust thy sense

+Were henceforth error.  I invest thee then

+With crown and mitre, sovereign o'er thyself."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXVIII

+

+Through that celestial forest, whose thick shade

+With lively greenness the new-springing day

+Attemper'd, eager now to roam, and search

+Its limits round, forthwith I left the bank,

+Along the champain leisurely my way

+Pursuing, o'er the ground, that on all sides

+Delicious odour breath'd.  A pleasant air,

+That intermitted never, never veer'd,

+Smote on my temples, gently, as a wind

+Of softest influence: at which the sprays,

+Obedient all, lean'd trembling to that part

+Where first the holy mountain casts his shade,

+Yet were not so disorder'd, but that still

+Upon their top the feather'd quiristers

+Applied their wonted art, and with full joy

+Welcom'd those hours of prime, and warbled shrill

+Amid the leaves, that to their jocund lays

+inept tenor; even as from branch to branch,

+Along the piney forests on the shore

+Of Chiassi, rolls the gath'ring melody,

+When Eolus hath from his cavern loos'd

+The dripping south.  Already had my steps,

+Though slow, so far into that ancient wood

+Transported me, I could not ken the place

+Where I had enter'd, when behold! my path

+Was bounded by a rill, which to the left

+With little rippling waters bent the grass,

+That issued from its brink.  On earth no wave

+How clean soe'er, that would not seem to have

+Some mixture in itself, compar'd with this,

+Transpicuous, clear; yet darkly on it roll'd,

+Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne'er

+Admits or sun or moon light there to shine.

+

+My feet advanc'd not; but my wond'ring eyes

+Pass'd onward, o'er the streamlet, to survey

+The tender May-bloom, flush'd through many a hue,

+In prodigal variety: and there,

+As object, rising suddenly to view,

+That from our bosom every thought beside

+With the rare marvel chases, I beheld

+A lady all alone, who, singing, went,

+And culling flower from flower, wherewith her way

+Was all o'er painted.  "Lady beautiful!

+Thou, who (if looks, that use to speak the heart,

+Are worthy of our trust), with love's own beam

+Dost warm thee," thus to her my speech I fram'd:

+"Ah! please thee hither towards the streamlet bend

+Thy steps so near, that I may list thy song.

+Beholding thee and this fair place, methinks,

+I call to mind where wander'd and how look'd

+Proserpine, in that season, when her child

+The mother lost, and she the bloomy spring."

+

+As when a lady, turning in the dance,

+Doth foot it featly, and advances scarce

+One step before the other to the ground;

+Over the yellow and vermilion flowers

+Thus turn'd she at my suit, most maiden-like,

+Valing her sober eyes, and came so near,

+That I distinctly caught the dulcet sound.

+Arriving where the limped waters now

+Lav'd the green sward, her eyes she deign'd to raise,

+That shot such splendour on me, as I ween

+Ne'er glanced from Cytherea's, when her son

+Had sped his keenest weapon to her heart.

+Upon the opposite bank she stood and smil'd

+through her graceful fingers shifted still

+The intermingling dyes, which without seed

+That lofty land unbosoms.  By the stream

+Three paces only were we sunder'd: yet

+The Hellespont, where Xerxes pass'd it o'er,

+(A curb for ever to the pride of man)

+Was by Leander not more hateful held

+For floating, with inhospitable wave

+'Twixt Sestus and Abydos, than by me

+That flood, because it gave no passage thence.

+

+"Strangers ye come, and haply in this place,

+That cradled human nature in its birth,

+Wond'ring, ye not without suspicion view

+My smiles: but that sweet strain of psalmody,

+'Thou, Lord! hast made me glad,' will give ye light,

+Which may uncloud your minds.  And thou, who stand'st

+The foremost, and didst make thy suit to me,

+Say if aught else thou wish to hear: for I

+Came prompt to answer every doubt of thine."

+

+She spake; and I replied: "I know not how

+To reconcile this wave and rustling sound

+Of forest leaves, with what I late have heard

+Of opposite report."  She answering thus:

+"I will unfold the cause, whence that proceeds,

+Which makes thee wonder; and so purge the cloud

+That hath enwraps thee.  The First Good, whose joy

+Is only in himself, created man

+For happiness, and gave this goodly place,

+His pledge and earnest of eternal peace.

+Favour'd thus highly, through his own defect

+He fell, and here made short sojourn; he fell,

+And, for the bitterness of sorrow, chang'd

+Laughter unblam'd and ever-new delight.

+That vapours none, exhal'd from earth beneath,

+Or from the waters (which, wherever heat

+Attracts them, follow), might ascend thus far

+To vex man's peaceful state, this mountain rose

+So high toward the heav'n, nor fears the rage

+Of elements contending, from that part

+Exempted, where the gate his limit bars.

+Because the circumambient air throughout

+With its first impulse circles still, unless

+Aught interpose to cheek or thwart its course;

+Upon the summit, which on every side

+To visitation of th' impassive air

+Is open, doth that motion strike, and makes

+Beneath its sway th' umbrageous wood resound:

+And in the shaken plant such power resides,

+That it impregnates with its efficacy

+The voyaging breeze, upon whose subtle plume

+That wafted flies abroad; and th' other land

+Receiving (as 't is worthy in itself,

+Or in the clime, that warms it), doth conceive,

+And from its womb produces many a tree

+Of various virtue.  This when thou hast heard,

+The marvel ceases, if in yonder earth

+Some plant without apparent seed be found

+To fix its fibrous stem.  And further learn,

+That with prolific foison of all seeds,

+This holy plain is fill'd, and in itself

+Bears fruit that ne'er was pluck'd on other soil.

+

+"The water, thou behold'st, springs not from vein,

+As stream, that intermittently repairs

+And spends his pulse of life, but issues forth

+From fountain, solid, undecaying, sure;

+And by the will omnific, full supply

+Feeds whatsoe'er On either side it pours;

+On this devolv'd with power to take away

+Remembrance of offence, on that to bring

+Remembrance back of every good deed done.

+From whence its name of Lethe on this part;

+On th' other Eunoe: both of which must first

+Be tasted ere it work; the last exceeding

+All flavours else.  Albeit thy thirst may now

+Be well contented, if I here break off,

+No more revealing: yet a corollary

+I freely give beside: nor deem my words

+Less grateful to thee, if they somewhat pass

+The stretch of promise.  They, whose verse of yore

+The golden age recorded and its bliss,

+On the Parnassian mountain, of this place

+Perhaps had dream'd.  Here was man guiltless, here

+Perpetual spring and every fruit, and this

+The far-fam'd nectar."  Turning to the bards,

+When she had ceas'd, I noted in their looks

+A smile at her conclusion; then my face

+Again directed to the lovely dame.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIX

+

+Singing, as if enamour'd, she resum'd

+And clos'd the song, with "Blessed they whose sins

+Are cover'd."  Like the wood-nymphs then, that tripp'd

+Singly across the sylvan shadows, one

+Eager to view and one to 'scape the sun,

+So mov'd she on, against the current, up

+The verdant rivage.  I, her mincing step

+Observing, with as tardy step pursued.

+

+Between us not an hundred paces trod,

+The bank, on each side bending equally,

+Gave me to face the orient.  Nor our way

+Far onward brought us, when to me at once

+She turn'd, and cried: "My brother! look and hearken."

+And lo! a sudden lustre ran across

+Through the great forest on all parts, so bright

+I doubted whether lightning were abroad;

+But that expiring ever in the spleen,

+That doth unfold it, and this during still

+And waxing still in splendor, made me question

+What it might be: and a sweet melody

+Ran through the luminous air.  Then did I chide

+With warrantable zeal the hardihood

+Of our first parent, for that there were earth

+Stood in obedience to the heav'ns, she only,

+Woman, the creature of an hour, endur'd not

+Restraint of any veil: which had she borne

+Devoutly, joys, ineffable as these,

+Had from the first, and long time since, been mine.

+

+While through that wilderness of primy sweets

+That never fade, suspense I walk'd, and yet

+Expectant of beatitude more high,

+Before us, like a blazing fire, the air

+Under the green boughs glow'd; and, for a song,

+Distinct the sound of melody was heard.

+

+O ye thrice holy virgins! for your sakes

+If e'er I suffer'd hunger, cold and watching,

+Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty.

+Now through my breast let Helicon his stream

+Pour copious; and Urania with her choir

+Arise to aid me: while the verse unfolds

+Things that do almost mock the grasp of thought.

+

+Onward a space, what seem'd seven trees of gold,

+The intervening distance to mine eye

+Falsely presented; but when I was come

+So near them, that no lineament was lost

+Of those, with which a doubtful object, seen

+Remotely, plays on the misdeeming sense,

+Then did the faculty, that ministers

+Discourse to reason, these for tapers of gold

+Distinguish, and it th' singing trace the sound

+"Hosanna."  Above, their beauteous garniture

+Flam'd with more ample lustre, than the moon

+Through cloudless sky at midnight in her full.

+

+I turn'd me full of wonder to my guide;

+And he did answer with a countenance

+Charg'd with no less amazement: whence my view

+Reverted to those lofty things, which came

+So slowly moving towards us, that the bride

+Would have outstript them on her bridal day.

+

+The lady called aloud: "Why thus yet burns

+Affection in thee for these living, lights,

+And dost not look on that which follows them?"

+

+I straightway mark'd a tribe behind them walk,

+As if attendant on their leaders, cloth'd

+With raiment of such whiteness, as on earth

+Was never.  On my left, the wat'ry gleam

+Borrow'd, and gave me back, when there I look'd.

+As in a mirror, my left side portray'd.

+

+When I had chosen on the river's edge

+Such station, that the distance of the stream

+Alone did separate me; there I stay'd

+My steps for clearer prospect, and beheld

+The flames go onward, leaving, as they went,

+The air behind them painted as with trail

+Of liveliest pencils! so distinct were mark'd

+All those sev'n listed colours, whence the sun

+Maketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone.

+These streaming gonfalons did flow beyond

+My vision; and ten paces, as I guess,

+Parted the outermost.  Beneath a sky

+So beautiful, came foul and-twenty elders,

+By two and two, with flower-de-luces crown'd.

+

+All sang one song: "Blessed be thou among

+The daughters of Adam! and thy loveliness

+Blessed for ever!"  After that the flowers,

+And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink,

+Were free from that elected race; as light

+In heav'n doth second light, came after them

+Four animals, each crown'd with verdurous leaf.

+With six wings each was plum'd, the plumage full

+Of eyes, and th' eyes of Argus would be such,

+Were they endued with life.  Reader, more rhymes

+Will not waste in shadowing forth their form:

+For other need no straitens, that in this

+I may not give my bounty room.  But read

+Ezekiel; for he paints them, from the north

+How he beheld them come by Chebar's flood,

+In whirlwind, cloud and fire; and even such

+As thou shalt find them character'd by him,

+Here were they; save as to the pennons; there,

+From him departing, John accords with me.

+

+The space, surrounded by the four, enclos'd

+A car triumphal: on two wheels it came

+Drawn at a Gryphon's neck; and he above

+Stretch'd either wing uplifted, 'tween the midst

+And the three listed hues, on each side three;

+So that the wings did cleave or injure none;

+And out of sight they rose.  The members, far

+As he was bird, were golden; white the rest

+With vermeil intervein'd.  So beautiful

+A car in Rome ne'er grac'd Augustus pomp,

+Or Africanus': e'en the sun's itself

+Were poor to this, that chariot of the sun

+Erroneous, which in blazing ruin fell

+At Tellus' pray'r devout, by the just doom

+Mysterious of all-seeing Jove.  Three nymphs

+at the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance;

+The one so ruddy, that her form had scarce

+Been known within a furnace of clear flame:

+The next did look, as if the flesh and bones

+Were emerald: snow new-fallen seem'd the third.

+

+Now seem'd the white to lead, the ruddy now;

+And from her song who led, the others took

+Their treasure, swift or slow.  At th' other wheel,

+A band quaternion, each in purple clad,

+Advanc'd with festal step, as of them one

+The rest conducted, one, upon whose front

+Three eyes were seen.  In rear of all this group,

+Two old men I beheld, dissimilar

+In raiment, but in port and gesture like,

+Solid and mainly grave; of whom the one

+Did show himself some favour'd counsellor

+Of the great Coan, him, whom nature made

+To serve the costliest creature of her tribe.

+His fellow mark'd an opposite intent,

+Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge,

+E'en as I view'd it with the flood between,

+Appall'd me.  Next four others I beheld,

+Of humble seeming: and, behind them all,

+One single old man, sleeping, as he came,

+With a shrewd visage.  And these seven, each

+Like the first troop were habited, but wore

+No braid of lilies on their temples wreath'd.

+Rather with roses and each vermeil flower,

+A sight, but little distant, might have sworn,

+That they were all on fire above their brow.

+

+Whenas the car was o'er against me, straight.

+Was heard a thund'ring, at whose voice it seem'd

+The chosen multitude were stay'd; for there,

+With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXX

+

+Soon as the polar light, which never knows

+Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil

+Of other cloud than sin, fair ornament

+Of the first heav'n, to duty each one there

+Safely convoying, as that lower doth

+The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix'd;

+Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van

+Between the Gryphon and its radiance came,

+Did turn them to the car, as to their rest:

+And one, as if commission'd from above,

+In holy chant thrice shorted forth aloud:

+"Come, spouse, from Libanus!" and all the rest

+Took up the song--At the last audit so

+The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each

+Uplifting lightly his new-vested flesh,

+As, on the sacred litter, at the voice

+Authoritative of that elder, sprang

+A hundred ministers and messengers

+Of life eternal.  "Blessed thou! who com'st!"

+And, "O," they cried, "from full hands scatter ye

+Unwith'ring lilies;" and, so saying, cast

+Flowers over head and round them on all sides.

+

+I have beheld, ere now, at break of day,

+The eastern clime all roseate, and the sky

+Oppos'd, one deep and beautiful serene,

+And the sun's face so shaded, and with mists

+Attemper'd at lids rising, that the eye

+Long while endur'd the sight: thus in a cloud

+Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose,

+And down, within and outside of the car,

+Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreath'd,

+A virgin in my view appear'd, beneath

+Green mantle, rob'd in hue of living flame:

+

+And o'er my Spirit, that in former days

+Within her presence had abode so long,

+No shudd'ring terror crept.  Mine eyes no more

+Had knowledge of her; yet there mov'd from her

+A hidden virtue, at whose touch awak'd,

+The power of ancient love was strong within me.

+

+No sooner on my vision streaming, smote

+The heav'nly influence, which years past, and e'en

+In childhood, thrill'd me, than towards Virgil I

+Turn'd me to leftward, panting, like a babe,

+That flees for refuge to his mother's breast,

+If aught have terrified or work'd him woe:

+And would have cried: "There is no dram of blood,

+That doth not quiver in me.  The old flame

+Throws out clear tokens of reviving fire:"

+But Virgil had bereav'd us of himself,

+Virgil, my best-lov'd father; Virgil, he

+To whom I gave me up for safety: nor,

+All, our prime mother lost, avail'd to save

+My undew'd cheeks from blur of soiling tears.

+

+"Dante, weep not, that Virgil leaves thee: nay,

+Weep thou not yet: behooves thee feel the edge

+Of other sword, and thou shalt weep for that."

+

+As to the prow or stern, some admiral

+Paces the deck, inspiriting his crew,

+When 'mid the sail-yards all hands ply aloof;

+Thus on the left side of the car I saw,

+(Turning me at the sound of mine own name,

+Which here I am compell'd to register)

+The virgin station'd, who before appeared

+Veil'd in that festive shower angelical.

+

+Towards me, across the stream, she bent her eyes;

+Though from her brow the veil descending, bound

+With foliage of Minerva, suffer'd not

+That I beheld her clearly; then with act

+Full royal, still insulting o'er her thrall,

+Added, as one, who speaking keepeth back

+The bitterest saying, to conclude the speech:

+"Observe me well.  I am, in sooth, I am

+Beatrice.  What! and hast thou deign'd at last

+Approach the mountainnewest not, O man!

+Thy happiness is whole?"  Down fell mine eyes

+On the clear fount, but there, myself espying,

+Recoil'd, and sought the greensward: such a weight

+Of shame was on my forehead.  With a mien

+Of that stern majesty, which doth surround

+mother's presence to her awe-struck child,

+She look'd; a flavour of such bitterness

+Was mingled in her pity.  There her words

+Brake off, and suddenly the angels sang:

+"In thee, O gracious Lord, my hope hath been:"

+But went no farther than, "Thou Lord, hast set

+My feet in ample room."  As snow, that lies

+Amidst the living rafters on the back

+Of Italy congeal'd when drifted high

+And closely pil'd by rough Sclavonian blasts,

+Breathe but the land whereon no shadow falls,

+And straightway melting it distils away,

+Like a fire-wasted taper: thus was I,

+Without a sigh or tear, or ever these

+Did sing, that with the chiming of heav'n's sphere,

+Still in their warbling chime: but when the strain

+Of dulcet symphony, express'd for me

+Their soft compassion, more than could the words

+"Virgin, why so consum'st him?"  then the ice,

+Congeal'd about my bosom, turn'd itself

+To spirit and water, and with anguish forth

+Gush'd through the lips and eyelids from the heart.

+

+Upon the chariot's right edge still she stood,

+Immovable, and thus address'd her words

+To those bright semblances with pity touch'd:

+"Ye in th' eternal day your vigils keep,

+So that nor night nor slumber, with close stealth,

+Conveys from you a single step in all

+The goings on of life: thence with more heed

+I shape mine answer, for his ear intended,

+Who there stands weeping, that the sorrow now

+May equal the transgression.  Not alone

+Through operation of the mighty orbs,

+That mark each seed to some predestin'd aim,

+As with aspect or fortunate or ill

+The constellations meet, but through benign

+Largess of heav'nly graces, which rain down

+From such a height, as mocks our vision, this man

+Was in the freshness of his being, such,

+So gifted virtually, that in him

+All better habits wond'rously had thriv'd.

+The more of kindly strength is in the soil,

+So much doth evil seed and lack of culture

+Mar it the more, and make it run to wildness.

+These looks sometime upheld him; for I show'd

+My youthful eyes, and led him by their light

+In upright walking.  Soon as I had reach'd

+The threshold of my second age, and chang'd

+My mortal for immortal, then he left me,

+And gave himself to others.  When from flesh

+To spirit I had risen, and increase

+Of beauty and of virtue circled me,

+I was less dear to him, and valued less.

+His steps were turn'd into deceitful ways,

+Following false images of good, that make

+No promise perfect.  Nor avail'd me aught

+To sue for inspirations, with the which,

+I, both in dreams of night, and otherwise,

+Did call him back; of them so little reck'd him,

+Such depth he fell, that all device was short

+Of his preserving, save that he should view

+The children of perdition.  To this end

+I visited the purlieus of the dead:

+And one, who hath conducted him thus high,

+Receiv'd my supplications urg'd with weeping.

+It were a breaking of God's high decree,

+If Lethe should be past, and such food tasted

+Without the cost of some repentant tear."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXI

+

+"O Thou!"  her words she thus without delay

+Resuming, turn'd their point on me, to whom

+They but with lateral edge seem'd harsh before,

+"Say thou, who stand'st beyond the holy stream,

+If this be true.  A charge so grievous needs

+Thine own avowal."  On my faculty

+Such strange amazement hung, the voice expir'd

+Imperfect, ere its organs gave it birth.

+

+A little space refraining, then she spake:

+"What dost thou muse on?  Answer me.  The wave

+On thy remembrances of evil yet

+Hath done no injury."  A mingled sense

+Of fear and of confusion, from my lips

+Did such a "Yea" produce, as needed help

+Of vision to interpret.  As when breaks

+In act to be discharg'd, a cross-bow bent

+Beyond its pitch, both nerve and bow o'erstretch'd,

+The flagging weapon feebly hits the mark;

+Thus, tears and sighs forth gushing, did I burst

+Beneath the heavy load, and thus my voice

+Was slacken'd on its way.  She straight began:

+"When my desire invited thee to love

+The good, which sets a bound to our aspirings,

+What bar of thwarting foss or linked chain

+Did meet thee, that thou so should'st quit the hope

+Of further progress, or what bait of ease

+Or promise of allurement led thee on

+Elsewhere, that thou elsewhere should'st rather wait?"

+

+A bitter sigh I drew, then scarce found voice

+To answer, hardly to these sounds my lips

+Gave utterance, wailing: "Thy fair looks withdrawn,

+Things present, with deceitful pleasures, turn'd

+My steps aside."  She answering spake: "Hadst thou

+Been silent, or denied what thou avow'st,

+Thou hadst not hid thy sin the more: such eye

+Observes it.  But whene'er the sinner's cheek

+Breaks forth into the precious-streaming tears

+Of self-accusing, in our court the wheel

+Of justice doth run counter to the edge.

+Howe'er that thou may'st profit by thy shame

+For errors past, and that henceforth more strength

+May arm thee, when thou hear'st the Siren-voice,

+Lay thou aside the motive to this grief,

+And lend attentive ear, while I unfold

+How opposite a way my buried flesh

+Should have impell'd thee.  Never didst thou spy

+In art or nature aught so passing sweet,

+As were the limbs, that in their beauteous frame

+Enclos'd me, and are scatter'd now in dust.

+If sweetest thing thus fail'd thee with my death,

+What, afterward, of mortal should thy wish

+Have tempted?  When thou first hadst felt the dart

+Of perishable things, in my departing

+For better realms, thy wing thou should'st have prun'd

+To follow me, and never stoop'd again

+To 'bide a second blow for a slight girl,

+Or other gaud as transient and as vain.

+The new and inexperienc'd bird awaits,

+Twice it may be, or thrice, the fowler's aim;

+But in the sight of one, whose plumes are full,

+In vain the net is spread, the arrow wing'd."

+

+I stood, as children silent and asham'd

+Stand, list'ning, with their eyes upon the earth,

+Acknowledging their fault and self-condemn'd.

+And she resum'd: "If, but to hear thus pains thee,

+Raise thou thy beard, and lo! what sight shall do!"

+

+With less reluctance yields a sturdy holm,

+Rent from its fibers by a blast, that blows

+From off the pole, or from Iarbas' land,

+Than I at her behest my visage rais'd:

+And thus the face denoting by the beard,

+I mark'd the secret sting her words convey'd.

+

+No sooner lifted I mine aspect up,

+Than downward sunk that vision I beheld

+Of goodly creatures vanish; and mine eyes

+Yet unassur'd and wavering, bent their light

+On Beatrice.  Towards the animal,

+Who joins two natures in one form, she turn'd,

+And, even under shadow of her veil,

+And parted by the verdant rill, that flow'd

+Between, in loveliness appear'd as much

+Her former self surpassing, as on earth

+All others she surpass'd.  Remorseful goads

+Shot sudden through me.  Each thing else, the more

+Its love had late beguil'd me, now the more

+I Was loathsome.  On my heart so keenly smote

+The bitter consciousness, that on the ground

+O'erpower'd I fell: and what my state was then,

+She knows who was the cause.  When now my strength

+Flow'd back, returning outward from the heart,

+The lady, whom alone I first had seen,

+I found above me.  "Loose me not," she cried:

+"Loose not thy hold;" and lo! had dragg'd me high

+As to my neck into the stream, while she,

+Still as she drew me after, swept along,

+Swift as a shuttle, bounding o'er the wave.

+

+The blessed shore approaching then was heard

+So sweetly, "Tu asperges me," that I

+May not remember, much less tell the sound.

+The beauteous dame, her arms expanding, clasp'd

+My temples, and immerg'd me, where 't was fit

+The wave should drench me: and thence raising up,

+Within the fourfold dance of lovely nymphs

+Presented me so lav'd, and with their arm

+They each did cover me.  "Here are we nymphs,

+And in the heav'n are stars.  Or ever earth

+Was visited of Beatrice, we

+Appointed for her handmaids, tended on her.

+We to her eyes will lead thee; but the light

+Of gladness that is in them, well to scan,

+Those yonder three, of deeper ken than ours,

+Thy sight shall quicken."  Thus began their song;

+And then they led me to the Gryphon's breast,

+While, turn'd toward us, Beatrice stood.

+"Spare not thy vision.  We have stationed thee

+Before the emeralds, whence love erewhile

+Hath drawn his weapons on thee."  As they spake,

+A thousand fervent wishes riveted

+Mine eyes upon her beaming eyes, that stood

+Still fix'd toward the Gryphon motionless.

+As the sun strikes a mirror, even thus

+Within those orbs the twofold being, shone,

+For ever varying, in one figure now

+Reflected, now in other.  Reader! muse

+How wond'rous in my sight it seem'd to mark

+A thing, albeit steadfast in itself,

+Yet in its imag'd semblance mutable.

+

+Full of amaze, and joyous, while my soul

+Fed on the viand, whereof still desire

+Grows with satiety, the other three

+With gesture, that declar'd a loftier line,

+Advanc'd: to their own carol on they came

+Dancing in festive ring angelical.

+

+"Turn, Beatrice!" was their song: "O turn

+Thy saintly sight on this thy faithful one,

+Who to behold thee many a wearisome pace

+Hath measur'd.  Gracious at our pray'r vouchsafe

+Unveil to him thy cheeks: that he may mark

+Thy second beauty, now conceal'd."  O splendour!

+O sacred light eternal! who is he

+So pale with musing in Pierian shades,

+Or with that fount so lavishly imbued,

+Whose spirit should not fail him in th' essay

+To represent thee such as thou didst seem,

+When under cope of the still-chiming heaven

+Thou gav'st to open air thy charms reveal'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXII

+

+Mine eyes with such an eager coveting,

+Were bent to rid them of their ten years' thirst,

+No other sense was waking: and e'en they

+Were fenc'd on either side from heed of aught;

+So tangled in its custom'd toils that smile

+Of saintly brightness drew me to itself,

+When forcibly toward the left my sight

+The sacred virgins turn'd; for from their lips

+I heard the warning sounds: "Too fix'd a gaze!"

+

+Awhile my vision labor'd; as when late

+Upon the' o'erstrained eyes the sun hath smote:

+But soon to lesser object, as the view

+Was now recover'd (lesser in respect

+To that excess of sensible, whence late

+I had perforce been sunder'd) on their right

+I mark'd that glorious army wheel, and turn,

+Against the sun and sev'nfold lights, their front.

+As when, their bucklers for protection rais'd,

+A well-rang'd troop, with portly banners curl'd,

+Wheel circling, ere the whole can change their ground:

+E'en thus the goodly regiment of heav'n

+Proceeding, all did pass us, ere the car

+Had slop'd his beam.  Attendant at the wheels

+The damsels turn'd; and on the Gryphon mov'd

+The sacred burden, with a pace so smooth,

+No feather on him trembled.  The fair dame

+Who through the wave had drawn me, companied

+By Statius and myself, pursued the wheel,

+Whose orbit, rolling, mark'd a lesser arch.

+

+Through the high wood, now void (the more her blame,

+Who by the serpent was beguil'd) I past

+With step in cadence to the harmony

+Angelic.  Onward had we mov'd, as far

+Perchance as arrow at three several flights

+Full wing'd had sped, when from her station down

+Descended Beatrice.  With one voice

+All murmur'd  "Adam," circling next a plant

+Despoil'd of flowers and leaf on every bough.

+Its tresses, spreading more as more they rose,

+Were such, as 'midst their forest wilds for height

+The Indians might have gaz'd at.  "Blessed thou!

+Gryphon, whose beak hath never pluck'd that tree

+Pleasant to taste: for hence the appetite

+Was warp'd to evil."  Round the stately trunk

+Thus shouted forth the rest, to whom return'd

+The animal twice-gender'd: "Yea: for so

+The generation of the just are sav'd."

+And turning to the chariot-pole, to foot

+He drew it of the widow'd branch, and bound

+There left unto the stock whereon it grew.

+

+As when large floods of radiance from above

+Stream, with that radiance mingled, which ascends

+Next after setting of the scaly sign,

+Our plants then burgeon, and each wears anew

+His wonted colours, ere the sun have yok'd

+Beneath another star his flamy steeds;

+Thus putting forth a hue, more faint than rose,

+And deeper than the violet, was renew'd

+The plant, erewhile in all its branches bare.

+

+Unearthly was the hymn, which then arose.

+I understood it not, nor to the end

+Endur'd the harmony.  Had I the skill

+To pencil forth, how clos'd th' unpitying eyes

+Slumb'ring, when Syrinx warbled, (eyes that paid

+So dearly for their watching,) then like painter,

+That with a model paints, I might design

+The manner of my falling into sleep.

+But feign who will the slumber cunningly;

+I pass it by to when I wak'd, and tell

+How suddenly a flash of splendour rent

+The curtain of my sleep, and one cries out:

+"Arise, what dost thou?"  As the chosen three,

+On Tabor's mount, admitted to behold

+The blossoming of that fair tree, whose fruit

+Is coveted of angels, and doth make

+Perpetual feast in heaven, to themselves

+Returning at the word, whence deeper sleeps

+Were broken, that they their tribe diminish'd saw,

+Both Moses and Elias gone, and chang'd

+The stole their master wore: thus to myself

+Returning, over me beheld I stand

+The piteous one, who cross the stream had brought

+My steps.  "And where," all doubting, I exclaim'd,

+"Is Beatrice?"--"See her," she replied,

+"Beneath the fresh leaf seated on its root.

+Behold th' associate choir that circles her.

+The others, with a melody more sweet

+And more profound, journeying to higher realms,

+Upon the Gryphon tend."  If there her words

+Were clos'd, I know not; but mine eyes had now

+Ta'en view of her, by whom all other thoughts

+Were barr'd admittance.  On the very ground

+Alone she sat, as she had there been left

+A guard upon the wain, which I beheld

+Bound to the twyform beast.  The seven nymphs

+Did make themselves a cloister round about her,

+And in their hands upheld those lights secure

+From blast septentrion and the gusty south.

+

+"A little while thou shalt be forester here:

+And citizen shalt be forever with me,

+Of that true Rome, wherein Christ dwells a Roman

+To profit the misguided world, keep now

+Thine eyes upon the car; and what thou seest,

+Take heed thou write, returning to that place."

+

+Thus Beatrice: at whose feet inclin'd

+Devout, at her behest, my thought and eyes,

+I, as she bade, directed.  Never fire,

+With so swift motion, forth a stormy cloud

+Leap'd downward from the welkin's farthest bound,

+As I beheld the bird of Jove descending

+Pounce on the tree, and, as he rush'd, the rind,

+Disparting crush beneath him, buds much more

+And leaflets.  On the car with all his might

+He struck, whence, staggering like a ship, it reel'd,

+At random driv'n, to starboard now, o'ercome,

+And now to larboard, by the vaulting waves.

+

+Next springing up into the chariot's womb

+A fox I saw, with hunger seeming pin'd

+Of all good food.  But, for his ugly sins

+The saintly maid rebuking him, away

+Scamp'ring he turn'd, fast as his hide-bound corpse

+Would bear him.  Next, from whence before he came,

+I saw the eagle dart into the hull

+O' th' car, and leave it with his feathers lin'd;

+And then a voice, like that which issues forth

+From heart with sorrow riv'd, did issue forth

+From heav'n, and, "O poor bark of mine!" it cried,

+"How badly art thou freighted!"  Then, it seem'd,

+That the earth open'd between either wheel,

+And I beheld a dragon issue thence,

+That through the chariot fix'd his forked train;

+And like a wasp that draggeth back the sting,

+So drawing forth his baleful train, he dragg'd

+Part of the bottom forth, and went his way

+Exulting.  What remain'd, as lively turf

+With green herb, so did clothe itself with plumes,

+Which haply had with purpose chaste and kind

+Been offer'd; and therewith were cloth'd the wheels,

+Both one and other, and the beam, so quickly

+A sigh were not breath'd sooner.  Thus transform'd,

+The holy structure, through its several parts,

+Did put forth heads, three on the beam, and one

+On every side; the first like oxen horn'd,

+But with a single horn upon their front

+The four.  Like monster sight hath never seen.

+O'er it methought there sat, secure as rock

+On mountain's lofty top, a shameless whore,

+Whose ken rov'd loosely round her.  At her side,

+As 't were that none might bear her off, I saw

+A giant stand; and ever, and anon

+They mingled kisses.  But, her lustful eyes

+Chancing on me to wander, that fell minion

+Scourg'd her from head to foot all o'er; then full

+Of jealousy, and fierce with rage, unloos'd

+The monster, and dragg'd on, so far across

+The forest, that from me its shades alone

+Shielded the harlot and the new-form'd brute.

+

+

+CANTO XXXIII

+

+"The heathen, Lord! are come!" responsive thus,

+The trinal now, and now the virgin band

+Quaternion, their sweet psalmody began,

+Weeping; and Beatrice listen'd, sad

+And sighing, to the song', in such a mood,

+That Mary, as she stood beside the cross,

+Was scarce more chang'd.  But when they gave her place

+To speak, then, risen upright on her feet,

+She, with a colour glowing bright as fire,

+Did answer: "Yet a little while, and ye

+Shall see me not; and, my beloved sisters,

+Again a little while, and ye shall see me."

+

+Before her then she marshall'd all the seven,

+And, beck'ning only motion'd me, the dame,

+And that remaining sage, to follow her.

+

+So on she pass'd; and had not set, I ween,

+Her tenth step to the ground, when with mine eyes

+Her eyes encounter'd; and, with visage mild,

+"So mend thy pace," she cried, "that if my words

+Address thee, thou mayst still be aptly plac'd

+To hear them."  Soon as duly to her side

+I now had hasten'd: "Brother!" she began,

+"Why mak'st thou no attempt at questioning,

+As thus we walk together?"  Like to those

+Who, speaking with too reverent an awe

+Before their betters, draw not forth the voice

+Alive unto their lips, befell me shell

+That I in sounds imperfect thus began:

+"Lady! what I have need of, that thou know'st,

+And what will suit my need."  She answering thus:

+"Of fearfulness and shame, I will, that thou

+Henceforth do rid thee: that thou speak no more,

+As one who dreams.  Thus far be taught of me:

+The vessel, which thou saw'st the serpent break,

+Was and is not: let him, who hath the blame,

+Hope not to scare God's vengeance with a sop.

+Without an heir for ever shall not be

+That eagle, he, who left the chariot plum'd,

+Which monster made it first and next a prey.

+Plainly I view, and therefore speak, the stars

+E'en now approaching, whose conjunction, free

+From all impediment and bar, brings on

+A season, in the which, one sent from God,

+(Five hundred, five, and ten, do mark him out)

+That foul one, and th' accomplice of her guilt,

+The giant, both shall slay.  And if perchance

+My saying, dark as Themis or as Sphinx,

+Fail to persuade thee, (since like them it foils

+The intellect with blindness) yet ere long

+Events shall be the Naiads, that will solve

+This knotty riddle, and no damage light

+On flock or field.  Take heed; and as these words

+By me are utter'd, teach them even so

+To those who live that life, which is a race

+To death: and when thou writ'st them, keep in mind

+Not to conceal how thou hast seen the plant,

+That twice hath now been spoil'd.  This whoso robs,

+This whoso plucks, with blasphemy of deed

+Sins against God, who for his use alone

+Creating hallow'd it.  For taste of this,

+In pain and in desire, five thousand years

+And upward, the first soul did yearn for him,

+Who punish'd in himself the fatal gust.

+

+"Thy reason slumbers, if it deem this height

+And summit thus inverted of the plant,

+Without due cause: and were not vainer thoughts,

+As Elsa's numbing waters, to thy soul,

+And their fond pleasures had not dyed it dark

+As Pyramus the mulberry, thou hadst seen,

+In such momentous circumstance alone,

+God's equal justice morally implied

+In the forbidden tree.  But since I mark thee

+In understanding harden'd into stone,

+And, to that hardness, spotted too and stain'd,

+So that thine eye is dazzled at my word,

+I will, that, if not written, yet at least

+Painted thou take it in thee, for the cause,

+That one brings home his staff inwreath'd with palm."

+

+I thus: "As wax by seal, that changeth not

+Its impress, now is stamp'd my brain by thee.

+But wherefore soars thy wish'd-for speech so high

+Beyond my sight, that loses it the more,

+The more it strains to reach it?"--"To the end

+That thou mayst know," she answer'd straight, "the school,

+That thou hast follow'd; and how far behind,

+When following my discourse, its learning halts:

+And mayst behold your art, from the divine

+As distant, as the disagreement is

+'Twixt earth and heaven's most high and rapturous orb."

+

+"I not remember," I replied, "that e'er

+I was estrang'd from thee, nor for such fault

+Doth conscience chide me."  Smiling she return'd:

+"If thou canst, not remember, call to mind

+How lately thou hast drunk of Lethe's wave;

+And, sure as smoke doth indicate a flame,

+In that forgetfulness itself conclude

+Blame from thy alienated will incurr'd.

+From henceforth verily my words shall be

+As naked as will suit them to appear

+In thy unpractis'd view."  More sparkling now,

+And with retarded course the sun possess'd

+The circle of mid-day, that varies still

+As th' aspect varies of each several clime,

+When, as one, sent in vaward of a troop

+For escort, pauses, if perchance he spy

+Vestige of somewhat strange and rare: so paus'd

+The sev'nfold band, arriving at the verge

+Of a dun umbrage hoar, such as is seen,

+Beneath green leaves and gloomy branches, oft

+To overbrow a bleak and alpine cliff.

+And, where they stood, before them, as it seem'd,

+Tigris and Euphrates both beheld,

+Forth from one fountain issue; and, like friends,

+Linger at parting. "O enlight'ning beam!

+O glory of our kind! beseech thee say

+What water this, which from one source deriv'd

+Itself removes to distance from itself?"

+

+To such entreaty answer thus was made:

+"Entreat Matilda, that she teach thee this."

+

+And here, as one, who clears himself of blame

+Imputed, the fair dame return'd: "Of me

+He this and more hath learnt; and I am safe

+That Lethe's water hath not hid it from him."

+

+And Beatrice: "Some more pressing care

+That oft the memory 'reeves, perchance hath made

+His mind's eye dark.  But lo! where Eunoe cows!

+Lead thither; and, as thou art wont, revive

+His fainting virtue."  As a courteous spirit,

+That proffers no excuses, but as soon

+As he hath token of another's will,

+Makes it his own; when she had ta'en me, thus

+The lovely maiden mov'd her on, and call'd

+To Statius with an air most lady-like:

+"Come thou with him."  Were further space allow'd,

+Then, Reader, might I sing, though but in part,

+That beverage, with whose sweetness I had ne'er

+Been sated.  But, since all the leaves are full,

+Appointed for this second strain, mine art

+With warning bridle checks me.  I return'd

+From the most holy wave, regenerate,

+If 'en as new plants renew'd with foliage new,

+Pure and made apt for mounting to the stars.

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+THE VISION

+

+OF

+

+HELL

+

+BY

+

+DANTE ALIGHIERI

+

+

+

+TRANSLATED BY

+

+THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A.

+

+

+

+

+

+Cantos 1 - 34

+

+

+

+CANTO I

+

+

+In the midway of this our mortal life,

+I found me in a gloomy wood, astray

+Gone from the path direct: and e'en to tell

+It were no easy task, how savage wild

+That forest, how robust and rough its growth,

+Which to remember only, my dismay

+Renews, in bitterness not far from death.

+Yet to discourse of what there good befell,

+All else will I relate discover'd there.

+How first I enter'd it I scarce can say,

+Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh'd

+My senses down, when the true path I left,

+But when a mountain's foot I reach'd, where clos'd

+The valley, that had pierc'd my heart with dread,

+I look'd aloft, and saw his shoulders broad

+Already vested with that planet's beam,

+Who leads all wanderers safe through every way.

+

+Then was a little respite to the fear,

+That in my heart's recesses deep had lain,

+All of that night, so pitifully pass'd:

+And as a man, with difficult short breath,

+Forespent with toiling, 'scap'd from sea to shore,

+Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands

+At gaze; e'en so my spirit, that yet fail'd

+Struggling with terror, turn'd to view the straits,

+That none hath pass'd and liv'd.  My weary frame

+After short pause recomforted, again

+I journey'd on over that lonely steep,

+

+The hinder foot still firmer.  Scarce the ascent

+Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light,

+And cover'd with a speckled skin, appear'd,

+Nor, when it saw me, vanish'd, rather strove

+To check my onward going; that ofttimes

+With purpose to retrace my steps I turn'd.

+

+The hour was morning's prime, and on his way

+Aloft the sun ascended with those stars,

+That with him rose, when Love divine first mov'd

+Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope

+All things conspir'd to fill me, the gay skin

+Of that swift animal, the matin dawn

+And the sweet season.  Soon that joy was chas'd,

+And by new dread succeeded, when in view

+A lion came, 'gainst me, as it appear'd,

+

+With his head held aloft and hunger-mad,

+That e'en the air was fear-struck.  A she-wolf

+Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem'd

+Full of all wants, and many a land hath made

+Disconsolate ere now.  She with such fear

+O'erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall'd,

+That of the height all hope I lost.  As one,

+Who with his gain elated, sees the time

+When all unwares is gone, he inwardly

+Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I,

+Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace,

+Who coming o'er against me, by degrees

+Impell'd me where the sun in silence rests.

+

+While to the lower space with backward step

+I fell, my ken discern'd the form one of one,

+Whose voice seem'd faint through long disuse of speech.

+When him in that great desert I espied,

+"Have mercy on me!" cried I out aloud,

+"Spirit! or living man! what e'er thou be!"

+

+He answer'd: "Now not man, man once I was,

+And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both

+By country, when the power of Julius yet

+Was scarcely firm.  At Rome my life was past

+Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time

+Of fabled deities and false.  A bard

+Was I, and made Anchises' upright son

+The subject of my song, who came from Troy,

+When the flames prey'd on Ilium's haughty towers.

+But thou, say wherefore to such perils past

+Return'st thou?  wherefore not this pleasant mount

+Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?"

+"And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring,

+From which such copious floods of eloquence

+Have issued?"  I with front abash'd replied.

+"Glory and light of all the tuneful train!

+May it avail me that I long with zeal

+Have sought thy volume, and with love immense

+Have conn'd it o'er.  My master thou and guide!

+Thou he from whom alone I have deriv'd

+That style, which for its beauty into fame

+Exalts me.  See the beast, from whom I fled.

+O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!"

+

+"For every vein and pulse throughout my frame

+She hath made tremble."  He, soon as he saw

+That I was weeping, answer'd, "Thou must needs

+Another way pursue, if thou wouldst 'scape

+From out that savage wilderness.  This beast,

+At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none

+To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death:

+So bad and so accursed in her kind,

+That never sated is her ravenous will,

+Still after food more craving than before.

+To many an animal in wedlock vile

+She fastens, and shall yet to many more,

+Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy

+Her with sharp pain.  He will not life support

+By earth nor its base metals, but by love,

+Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be

+The land 'twixt either Feltro.  In his might

+Shall safety to Italia's plains arise,

+For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure,

+Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell.

+He with incessant chase through every town

+Shall worry, until he to hell at length

+Restore her, thence by envy first let loose.

+I for thy profit pond'ring now devise,

+That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide

+Will lead thee hence through an eternal space,

+Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see

+Spirits of old tormented, who invoke

+A second death; and those next view, who dwell

+Content in fire, for that they hope to come,

+Whene'er the time may be, among the blest,

+Into whose regions if thou then desire

+T' ascend, a spirit worthier then I

+Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart,

+Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King,

+Who reigns above, a rebel to his law,

+Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed,

+That to his city none through me should come.

+He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds

+His citadel and throne.  O happy those,

+Whom there he chooses!"  I to him in few:

+"Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore,

+I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse

+I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst,

+That I Saint Peter's gate may view, and those

+Who as thou tell'st, are in such dismal plight."

+

+Onward he mov'd, I close his steps pursu'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO II

+

+NOW was the day departing, and the air,

+Imbrown'd with shadows, from their toils releas'd

+All animals on earth; and I alone

+Prepar'd myself the conflict to sustain,

+Both of sad pity, and that perilous road,

+Which my unerring memory shall retrace.

+

+O Muses!  O high genius! now vouchsafe

+Your aid!  O mind! that all I saw hast kept

+Safe in a written record, here thy worth

+And eminent endowments come to proof.

+

+I thus began: "Bard! thou who art my guide,

+Consider well, if virtue be in me

+Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise

+Thou trust me.  Thou hast told that Silvius' sire,

+Yet cloth'd in corruptible flesh, among

+Th' immortal tribes had entrance, and was there

+Sensible present.  Yet if heaven's great Lord,

+Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew'd,

+In contemplation of the high effect,

+Both what and who from him should issue forth,

+It seems in reason's judgment well deserv'd:

+Sith he of Rome, and of Rome's empire wide,

+In heaven's empyreal height was chosen sire:

+Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain'd

+And 'stablish'd for the holy place, where sits

+Who to great Peter's sacred chair succeeds.

+He from this journey, in thy song renown'd,

+Learn'd things, that to his victory gave rise

+And to the papal robe.  In after-times

+The chosen vessel also travel'd there,

+To bring us back assurance in that faith,

+Which is the entrance to salvation's way.

+But I, why should I there presume?  or who

+Permits it?  not, Aeneas I nor Paul.

+Myself I deem not worthy, and none else

+Will deem me.  I, if on this voyage then

+I venture, fear it will in folly end.

+Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know'st,

+Than I can speak."  As one, who unresolves

+What he hath late resolv'd, and with new thoughts

+Changes his purpose, from his first intent

+Remov'd; e'en such was I on that dun coast,

+Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first

+So eagerly embrac'd.  "If right thy words

+I scan," replied that shade magnanimous,

+"Thy soul is by vile fear assail'd, which oft

+So overcasts a man, that he recoils

+From noblest resolution, like a beast

+At some false semblance in the twilight gloom.

+That from this terror thou mayst free thyself,

+I will instruct thee why I came, and what

+I heard in that same instant, when for thee

+Grief touch'd me first.  I was among the tribe,

+Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest

+And lovely, I besought her to command,

+Call'd me; her eyes were brighter than the star

+Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft

+Angelically tun'd her speech address'd:

+"O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame

+Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts!

+A friend, not of my fortune but myself,

+On the wide desert in his road has met

+Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn'd.

+Now much I dread lest he past help have stray'd,

+And I be ris'n too late for his relief,

+From what in heaven of him I heard.  Speed now,

+And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue,

+And by all means for his deliverance meet,

+Assist him.  So to me will comfort spring.

+I who now bid thee on this errand forth

+Am Beatrice; from a place I come

+

+(Note: Beatrice.  I use this word, as it is

+pronounced in the Italian, as consisting of four

+syllables, of which the third is a long one.)

+

+Revisited with joy.  Love brought me thence,

+Who prompts my speech.  When in my Master's sight

+I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell."

+

+She then was silent, and I thus began:

+"O Lady! by whose influence alone,

+Mankind excels whatever is contain'd

+Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb,

+So thy command delights me, that to obey,

+If it were done already, would seem late.

+No need hast thou farther to speak thy will;

+Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth

+To leave that ample space, where to return

+Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath."

+

+She then: "Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire,

+I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread

+Hinders my entrance here.  Those things alone

+Are to be fear'd, whence evil may proceed,

+None else, for none are terrible beside.

+I am so fram'd by God, thanks to his grace!

+That any suff'rance of your misery

+Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire

+Assails me.  In high heaven a blessed dame

+Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief

+That hindrance, which I send thee to remove,

+That God's stern judgment to her will inclines."

+To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake:

+"Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid

+And I commend him to thee."  At her word

+Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe,

+And coming to the place, where I abode

+Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days,

+She thus address'd me: "Thou true praise of God!

+Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent

+To him, who so much lov'd thee, as to leave

+For thy sake all the multitude admires?

+Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,

+Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,

+Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?"

+"Ne'er among men did any with such speed

+Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy,

+As when these words were spoken, I came here,

+Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force

+Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all

+Who well have mark'd it, into honour brings."

+

+"When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes

+Tearful she turn'd aside; whereat I felt

+Redoubled zeal to serve thee.  As she will'd,

+Thus am I come: I sav'd thee from the beast,

+Who thy near way across the goodly mount

+Prevented.  What is this comes o'er thee then?

+Why, why dost thou hang back?  why in thy breast

+Harbour vile fear?  why hast not courage there

+And noble daring?  Since three maids so blest

+Thy safety plan, e'en in the court of heaven;

+And so much certain good my words forebode."

+

+As florets, by the frosty air of night

+Bent down and clos'd, when day has blanch'd their leaves,

+Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;

+So was my fainting vigour new restor'd,

+And to my heart such kindly courage ran,

+That I as one undaunted soon replied:

+"O full of pity she, who undertook

+My succour! and thou kind who didst perform

+So soon her true behest!  With such desire

+Thou hast dispos'd me to renew my voyage,

+That my first purpose fully is resum'd.

+Lead on: one only will is in us both.

+Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord."

+

+So spake I; and when he had onward mov'd,

+I enter'd on the deep and woody way.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO III

+

+"THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe:

+Through me you pass into eternal pain:

+Through me among the people lost for aye.

+Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:

+To rear me was the task of power divine,

+Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.

+Before me things create were none, save things

+Eternal, and eternal I endure.

+

+"All hope abandon ye who enter here."

+

+Such characters in colour dim I mark'd

+Over a portal's lofty arch inscrib'd:

+Whereat I thus: "Master, these words import

+Hard meaning."  He as one prepar'd replied:

+"Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;

+Here be vile fear extinguish'd. We are come

+Where I have told thee we shall see the souls

+To misery doom'd, who intellectual good

+Have lost."  And when his hand he had stretch'd forth

+To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer'd,

+Into that secret place he led me on.

+

+Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans

+Resounded through the air pierc'd by no star,

+That e'en I wept at entering.  Various tongues,

+Horrible languages, outcries of woe,

+Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,

+With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds,

+Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls

+Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd,

+Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.

+

+I then, with error yet encompass'd, cried:

+"O master!  What is this I hear?  What race

+Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?"

+

+He thus to me: "This miserable fate

+Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv'd

+Without or praise or blame, with that ill band

+Of angels mix'd, who nor rebellious prov'd

+Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves

+Were only.  From his bounds Heaven drove them forth,

+Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth

+Of Hell receives them, lest th' accursed tribe

+Should glory thence with exultation vain."

+

+I then: "Master! what doth aggrieve them thus,

+That they lament so loud?"  He straight replied:

+"That will I tell thee briefly.  These of death

+No hope may entertain: and their blind life

+So meanly passes, that all other lots

+They envy.  Fame of them the world hath none,

+Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both.

+Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by."

+

+And I, who straightway look'd, beheld a flag,

+Which whirling ran around so rapidly,

+That it no pause obtain'd: and following came

+Such a long train of spirits, I should ne'er

+Have thought, that death so many had despoil'd.

+

+When some of these I recogniz'd, I saw

+And knew the shade of him, who to base fear

+Yielding, abjur'd his high estate.  Forthwith

+I understood for certain this the tribe

+Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing

+And to his foes.  These wretches, who ne'er lived,

+Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung

+By wasps and hornets, which bedew'd their cheeks

+With blood, that mix'd with tears dropp'd to their feet,

+And by disgustful worms was gather'd there.

+

+Then looking farther onwards I beheld

+A throng upon the shore of a great stream:

+Whereat I thus: "Sir! grant me now to know

+Whom here we view, and whence impell'd they seem

+So eager to pass o'er, as I discern

+Through the blear light?"  He thus to me in few:

+"This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive

+Beside the woeful tide of Acheron."

+

+Then with eyes downward cast and fill'd with shame,

+Fearing my words offensive to his ear,

+Till we had reach'd the river, I from speech

+Abstain'd.  And lo! toward us in a bark

+Comes on an old man hoary white with eld,

+

+Crying, "Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not

+Ever to see the sky again.  I come

+To take you to the other shore across,

+Into eternal darkness, there to dwell

+In fierce heat and in ice.  And thou, who there

+Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave

+These who are dead."  But soon as he beheld

+I left them not, "By other way," said he,

+"By other haven shalt thou come to shore,

+Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat

+Must carry."  Then to him thus spake my guide:

+"Charon! thyself torment not: so 't is will'd,

+Where will and power are one: ask thou no more."

+

+Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks

+Of him the boatman o'er the livid lake,

+Around whose eyes glar'd wheeling flames.  Meanwhile

+Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang'd,

+And gnash'd their teeth, soon as the cruel words

+They heard.  God and their parents they blasphem'd,

+The human kind, the place, the time, and seed

+That did engender them and give them birth.

+

+Then all together sorely wailing drew

+To the curs'd strand, that every man must pass

+Who fears not God.  Charon, demoniac form,

+With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,

+Beck'ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar

+Strikes.  As fall off the light autumnal leaves,

+One still another following, till the bough

+Strews all its honours on the earth beneath;

+

+E'en in like manner Adam's evil brood

+Cast themselves one by one down from the shore,

+Each at a beck, as falcon at his call.

+

+Thus go they over through the umber'd wave,

+And ever they on the opposing bank

+Be landed, on this side another throng

+Still gathers.  "Son," thus spake the courteous guide,

+"Those, who die subject to the wrath of God,

+All here together come from every clime,

+And to o'erpass the river are not loth:

+For so heaven's justice goads them on, that fear

+Is turn'd into desire.  Hence ne'er hath past

+Good spirit.  If of thee Charon complain,

+Now mayst thou know the import of his words."

+

+This said, the gloomy region trembling shook

+So terribly, that yet with clammy dews

+Fear chills my brow.  The sad earth gave a blast,

+That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame,

+Which all my senses conquer'd quite, and I

+Down dropp'd, as one with sudden slumber seiz'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO IV

+

+BROKE the deep slumber in my brain a crash

+Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself,

+As one by main force rous'd.  Risen upright,

+My rested eyes I mov'd around, and search'd

+With fixed ken to know what place it was,

+Wherein I stood.  For certain on the brink

+I found me of the lamentable vale,

+The dread abyss, that joins a thund'rous sound

+Of plaints innumerable.  Dark and deep,

+And thick with clouds o'erspread, mine eye in vain

+Explor'd its bottom, nor could aught discern.

+

+"Now let us to the blind world there beneath

+Descend;" the bard began all pale of look:

+"I go the first, and thou shalt follow next."

+

+Then I his alter'd hue perceiving, thus:

+"How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread,

+Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?"

+

+He then: "The anguish of that race below

+With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear

+Mistakest.  Let us on.  Our length of way

+Urges to haste."  Onward, this said, he mov'd;

+And ent'ring led me with him on the bounds

+Of the first circle, that surrounds th' abyss.

+Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard

+Except of sighs, that made th' eternal air

+Tremble, not caus'd by tortures, but from grief

+Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,

+Of men, women, and infants.  Then to me

+The gentle guide: "Inquir'st thou not what spirits

+Are these, which thou beholdest?  Ere thou pass

+Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin

+Were blameless; and if aught they merited,

+It profits not, since baptism was not theirs,

+The portal to thy faith.  If they before

+The Gospel liv'd, they serv'd not God aright;

+And among such am I. For these defects,

+And for no other evil, we are lost;"

+

+"Only so far afflicted, that we live

+Desiring without hope."  So grief assail'd

+My heart at hearing this, for well I knew

+Suspended in that Limbo many a soul

+Of mighty worth.  "O tell me, sire rever'd!

+Tell me, my master!"  I began through wish

+Of full assurance in that holy faith,

+Which vanquishes all error; "say, did e'er

+Any, or through his own or other's merit,

+Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?"

+

+Piercing the secret purport of my speech,

+He answer'd: "I was new to that estate,

+When I beheld a puissant one arrive

+Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown'd.

+He forth the shade of our first parent drew,

+Abel his child, and Noah righteous man,

+Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv'd,

+Of patriarch Abraham, and David king,

+Israel with his sire and with his sons,

+Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won,

+And others many more, whom he to bliss

+Exalted.  Before these, be thou assur'd,

+No spirit of human kind was ever sav'd."

+

+We, while he spake, ceas'd not our onward road,

+Still passing through the wood; for so I name

+Those spirits thick beset.  We were not far

+On this side from the summit, when I kenn'd

+A flame, that o'er the darken'd hemisphere

+Prevailing shin'd.  Yet we a little space

+Were distant, not so far but I in part

+Discover'd, that a tribe in honour high

+That place possess'd.  "O thou, who every art

+And science valu'st! who are these, that boast

+Such honour, separate from all the rest?"

+

+He answer'd: "The renown of their great names

+That echoes through your world above, acquires

+Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc'd."

+Meantime a voice I heard: "Honour the bard

+Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!"

+No sooner ceas'd the sound, than I beheld

+Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps,

+Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad.

+

+When thus my master kind began: "Mark him,

+Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen,

+The other three preceding, as their lord.

+This is that Homer, of all bards supreme:

+Flaccus the next in satire's vein excelling;

+The third is Naso; Lucan is the last.

+Because they all that appellation own,

+With which the voice singly accosted me,

+Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge."

+

+So I beheld united the bright school

+Of him the monarch of sublimest song,

+That o'er the others like an eagle soars.

+When they together short discourse had held,

+They turn'd to me, with salutation kind

+Beck'ning me; at the which my master smil'd:

+Nor was this all; but greater honour still

+They gave me, for they made me of their tribe;

+And I was sixth amid so learn'd a band.

+

+Far as the luminous beacon on we pass'd

+Speaking of matters, then befitting well

+To speak, now fitter left untold.  At foot

+Of a magnificent castle we arriv'd,

+Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round

+Defended by a pleasant stream.  O'er this

+As o'er dry land we pass'd.  Next through seven gates

+I with those sages enter'd, and we came

+Into a mead with lively verdure fresh.

+

+There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around

+Majestically mov'd, and in their port

+Bore eminent authority; they spake

+Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet.

+

+We to one side retir'd, into a place

+Open and bright and lofty, whence each one

+Stood manifest to view.  Incontinent

+There on the green enamel of the plain

+Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight

+I am exalted in my own esteem.

+

+Electra there I saw accompanied

+By many, among whom Hector I knew,

+Anchises' pious son, and with hawk's eye

+Caesar all arm'd, and by Camilla there

+Penthesilea.  On the other side

+Old King Latinus, seated by his child

+Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld,

+Who Tarquin chas'd, Lucretia, Cato's wife

+Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there;

+And sole apart retir'd, the Soldan fierce.

+

+Then when a little more I rais'd my brow,

+I spied the master of the sapient throng,

+Seated amid the philosophic train.

+Him all admire, all pay him rev'rence due.

+There Socrates and Plato both I mark'd,

+Nearest to him in rank; Democritus,

+Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes,

+With Heraclitus, and Empedocles,

+And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage,

+Zeno, and Dioscorides well read

+In nature's secret lore.  Orpheus I mark'd

+And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca,

+Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates,

+Galenus, Avicen, and him who made

+That commentary vast, Averroes.

+

+Of all to speak at full were vain attempt;

+For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes

+My words fall short of what bechanc'd.  In two

+The six associates part.  Another way

+My sage guide leads me, from that air serene,

+Into a climate ever vex'd with storms:

+And to a part I come where no light shines.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO V

+

+FROM the first circle I descended thus

+Down to the second, which, a lesser space

+Embracing, so much more of grief contains

+Provoking bitter moans.  There, Minos stands

+Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all

+Who enter, strict examining the crimes,

+

+Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath,

+According as he foldeth him around:

+For when before him comes th' ill fated soul,

+It all confesses; and that judge severe

+Of sins, considering what place in hell

+Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft

+Himself encircles, as degrees beneath

+He dooms it to descend.  Before him stand

+Always a num'rous throng; and in his turn

+Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears

+His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl'd.

+

+"O thou! who to this residence of woe

+Approachest?"  when he saw me coming, cried

+Minos, relinquishing his dread employ,

+"Look how thou enter here; beware in whom

+Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad

+Deceive thee to thy harm."  To him my guide:

+"Wherefore exclaimest?  Hinder not his way

+By destiny appointed; so 'tis will'd

+Where will and power are one.  Ask thou no more."

+

+Now 'gin the rueful wailings to be heard.

+Now am I come where many a plaining voice

+Smites on mine ear.  Into a place I came

+Where light was silent all.  Bellowing there groan'd

+A noise as of a sea in tempest torn

+By warring winds.  The stormy blast of hell

+With restless fury drives the spirits on

+Whirl'd round and dash'd amain with sore annoy.

+

+When they arrive before the ruinous sweep,

+There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans,

+And blasphemies 'gainst the good Power in heaven.

+

+I understood that to this torment sad

+The carnal sinners are condemn'd, in whom

+Reason by lust is sway'd.  As in large troops

+And multitudinous, when winter reigns,

+The starlings on their wings are borne abroad;

+So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.

+On this side and on that, above, below,

+It drives them: hope of rest to solace them

+Is none, nor e'en of milder pang.  As cranes,

+Chanting their dol'rous notes, traverse the sky,

+Stretch'd out in long array: so I beheld

+Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on

+By their dire doom.  Then I: "Instructor! who

+Are these, by the black air so scourg'd?"--"The first

+'Mong those, of whom thou question'st," he replied,

+"O'er many tongues was empress.  She in vice

+Of luxury was so shameless, that she made

+Liking be lawful by promulg'd decree,

+To clear the blame she had herself incurr'd.

+This is Semiramis, of whom 'tis writ,

+That she succeeded Ninus her espous'd;

+And held the land, which now the Soldan rules.

+The next in amorous fury slew herself,

+And to Sicheus' ashes broke her faith:

+Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen."

+

+There mark'd I Helen, for whose sake so long

+The time was fraught with evil; there the great

+Achilles, who with love fought to the end.

+Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside

+A thousand more he show'd me, and by name

+Pointed them out, whom love bereav'd of life.

+

+When I had heard my sage instructor name

+Those dames and knights of antique days, o'erpower'd

+By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind

+Was lost; and I began: "Bard! willingly

+I would address those two together coming,

+Which seem so light before the wind."  He thus:

+"Note thou, when nearer they to us approach."

+

+"Then by that love which carries them along,

+Entreat; and they will come."  Soon as the wind

+Sway'd them toward us, I thus fram'd my speech:

+"O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse

+With us, if by none else restrain'd."  As doves

+By fond desire invited, on wide wings

+And firm, to their sweet nest returning home,

+Cleave the air, wafted by their will along;

+Thus issu'd from that troop, where Dido ranks,

+They through the ill air speeding; with such force

+My cry prevail'd by strong affection urg'd.

+

+"O gracious creature and benign! who go'st

+Visiting, through this element obscure,

+Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru'd;

+If for a friend the King of all we own'd,

+Our pray'r to him should for thy peace arise,

+Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.

+()f whatsoe'er to hear or to discourse

+It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that

+Freely with thee discourse, while e'er the wind,

+As now, is mute.  The land, that gave me birth,

+Is situate on the coast, where Po descends

+To rest in ocean with his sequent streams.

+

+"Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,

+Entangled him by that fair form, from me

+Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still:

+Love, that denial takes from none belov'd,

+Caught me with pleasing him so passing well,

+That, as thou see'st, he yet deserts me not.

+

+"Love brought us to one death: Caina waits

+The soul, who spilt our life."  Such were their words;

+At hearing which downward I bent my looks,

+And held them there so long, that the bard cried:

+"What art thou pond'ring?"  I in answer thus:

+"Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire

+Must they at length to that ill pass have reach'd!"

+

+Then turning, I to them my speech address'd.

+And thus began: "Francesca! your sad fate

+Even to tears my grief and pity moves.

+But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,

+By what, and how love granted, that ye knew

+Your yet uncertain wishes?"  She replied:

+"No greater grief than to remember days

+Of joy, when mis'ry is at hand!  That kens

+Thy learn'd instructor.  Yet so eagerly

+If thou art bent to know the primal root,

+From whence our love gat being, I will do,

+As one, who weeps and tells his tale.  One day

+For our delight we read of Lancelot,

+How him love thrall'd.  Alone we were, and no

+Suspicion near us.  Ofttimes by that reading

+Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue

+Fled from our alter'd cheek.  But at one point

+Alone we fell.  When of that smile we read,

+The wished smile, rapturously kiss'd

+By one so deep in love, then he, who ne'er

+From me shall separate, at once my lips

+All trembling kiss'd.  The book and writer both

+Were love's purveyors.  In its leaves that day

+We read no more."  While thus one spirit spake,

+The other wail'd so sorely, that heartstruck

+I through compassion fainting, seem'd not far

+From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground.

+

+CANTO VI

+

+MY sense reviving, that erewhile had droop'd

+With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief

+O'ercame me wholly, straight around I see

+New torments, new tormented souls, which way

+Soe'er I move, or turn, or bend my sight.

+In the third circle I arrive, of show'rs

+Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang'd

+For ever, both in kind and in degree.

+Large hail, discolour'd water, sleety flaw

+Through the dun midnight air stream'd down amain:

+Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell.

+

+Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange,

+Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog

+Over the multitude immers'd beneath.

+His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard,

+His belly large, and claw'd the hands, with which

+He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs

+Piecemeal disparts.  Howling there spread, as curs,

+Under the rainy deluge, with one side

+The other screening, oft they roll them round,

+A wretched, godless crew.  When that great worm

+Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op'd

+His jaws, and the fangs show'd us; not a limb

+Of him but trembled.  Then my guide, his palms

+Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth

+Rais'd them, and cast it in his ravenous maw.

+

+E'en as a dog, that yelling bays for food

+His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall

+His fury, bent alone with eager haste

+To swallow it; so dropp'd the loathsome cheeks

+Of demon Cerberus, who thund'ring stuns

+The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain.

+

+We, o'er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt

+Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet

+Upon their emptiness, that substance seem'd.

+

+They all along the earth extended lay

+Save one, that sudden rais'd himself to sit,

+Soon as that way he saw us pass.  "O thou!"

+He cried, "who through the infernal shades art led,

+Own, if again thou know'st me.  Thou wast fram'd

+Or ere my frame was broken."  I replied:

+"The anguish thou endur'st perchance so takes

+Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems

+As if I saw thee never.  But inform

+Me who thou art, that in a place so sad

+Art set, and in such torment, that although

+Other be greater, more disgustful none

+Can be imagin'd."  He in answer thus:

+

+"Thy city heap'd with envy to the brim,

+Ay that the measure overflows its bounds,

+Held me in brighter days.  Ye citizens

+Were wont to name me Ciacco.  For the sin

+Of glutt'ny, damned vice, beneath this rain,

+E'en as thou see'st, I with fatigue am worn;

+Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these

+Have by like crime incurr'd like punishment."

+

+No more he said, and I my speech resum'd:

+"Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much,

+Even to tears.  But tell me, if thou know'st,

+What shall at length befall the citizens

+Of the divided city; whether any just one

+Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause,

+Whence jarring discord hath assail'd it thus?"

+

+He then: "After long striving they will come

+To blood; and the wild party from the woods

+Will chase the other with much injury forth.

+Then it behoves, that this must fall, within

+Three solar circles; and the other rise

+By borrow'd force of one, who under shore

+Now rests.  It shall a long space hold aloof

+Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight

+The other oppress'd, indignant at the load,

+And grieving sore.  The just are two in number,

+But they neglected.  Av'rice, envy, pride,

+Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all

+On fire."  Here ceas'd the lamentable sound;

+And I continu'd thus: "Still would I learn

+More from thee, farther parley still entreat.

+Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say,

+They who so well deserv'd, of Giacopo,

+Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent

+Their minds on working good.  Oh! tell me where

+They bide, and to their knowledge let me come.

+For I am press'd with keen desire to hear,

+If heaven's sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell

+Be to their lip assign'd."   He answer'd straight:

+"These are yet blacker spirits.  Various crimes

+Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss.

+If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them.

+But to the pleasant world when thou return'st,

+Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there.

+No more I tell thee, answer thee no more."

+

+This said, his fixed eyes he turn'd askance,

+A little ey'd me, then bent down his head,

+And 'midst his blind companions with it fell.

+

+When thus my guide: "No more his bed he leaves,

+Ere the last angel-trumpet blow.  The Power

+Adverse to these shall then in glory come,

+Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair,

+Resume his fleshly vesture and his form,

+And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend

+The vault."  So pass'd we through that mixture foul

+Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile

+Touching, though slightly, on the life to come.

+For thus I question'd: "Shall these tortures, Sir!

+When the great sentence passes, be increas'd,

+Or mitigated, or as now severe?"

+

+He then: "Consult thy knowledge; that decides

+That as each thing to more perfection grows,

+It feels more sensibly both good and pain.

+Though ne'er to true perfection may arrive

+This race accurs'd, yet nearer then than now

+They shall approach it."  Compassing that path

+Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse

+Much more than I relate between us pass'd:

+Till at the point, where the steps led below,

+Arriv'd, there Plutus, the great foe, we found.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO VII

+

+"AH me!  O Satan!  Satan!" loud exclaim'd

+Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:

+And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd,

+To comfort me thus spake: "Let not thy fear

+Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none

+To hinder down this rock thy safe descent."

+Then to that sworn lip turning, "Peace!"  he cried,

+

+"Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyself

+Prey, and consume thee!  Through the dark profound

+Not without cause he passes.  So 't is will'd

+On high, there where the great Archangel pour'd

+Heav'n's vengeance on the first adulterer proud."

+

+As sails full spread and bellying with the wind

+Drop suddenly collaps'd, if the mast split;

+So to the ground down dropp'd the cruel fiend.

+

+Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge,

+Gain'd on the dismal shore, that all the woe

+Hems in of all the universe.  Ah me!

+Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap'st

+New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!

+Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this?

+

+E'en as a billow, on Charybdis rising,

+Against encounter'd billow dashing breaks;

+Such is the dance this wretched race must lead,

+Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found,

+From one side and the other, with loud voice,

+Both roll'd on weights by main forge of their breasts,

+Then smote together, and each one forthwith

+Roll'd them back voluble, turning again,

+Exclaiming these, "Why holdest thou so fast?"

+Those answering, "And why castest thou away?"

+So still repeating their despiteful song,

+They to the opposite point on either hand

+Travers'd the horrid circle: then arriv'd,

+Both turn'd them round, and through the middle space

+Conflicting met again.  At sight whereof

+I, stung with grief, thus spake: "O say, my guide!

+What race is this?  Were these, whose heads are shorn,

+On our left hand, all sep'rate to the church?"

+

+He straight replied: "In their first life these all

+In mind were so distorted, that they made,

+According to due measure, of their wealth,

+No use.  This clearly from their words collect,

+Which they howl forth, at each extremity

+Arriving of the circle, where their crime

+Contrary' in kind disparts them.  To the church

+Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls

+Are crown'd, both Popes and Cardinals, o'er whom

+Av'rice dominion absolute maintains."

+

+I then: "Mid such as these some needs must be,

+Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot

+Of these foul sins were stain'd."  He answering thus:

+"Vain thought conceiv'st thou.  That ignoble life,

+Which made them vile before, now makes them dark,

+And to all knowledge indiscernible.

+Forever they shall meet in this rude shock:

+These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise,

+Those with close-shaven locks.  That ill they gave,

+And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world

+Depriv'd, and set them at this strife, which needs

+No labour'd phrase of mine to set if off.

+Now may'st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain,

+The goods committed into fortune's hands,

+For which the human race keep such a coil!

+Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon,

+Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls

+Might purchase rest for one."  I thus rejoin'd:

+

+"My guide! of thee this also would I learn;

+This fortune, that thou speak'st of, what it is,

+Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?"

+

+He thus: "O beings blind! what ignorance

+Besets you?  Now my judgment hear and mark.

+He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all,

+The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers

+To guide them, so that each part shines to each,

+Their light in equal distribution pour'd.

+By similar appointment he ordain'd

+Over the world's bright images to rule.

+Superintendence of a guiding hand

+And general minister, which at due time

+May change the empty vantages of life

+From race to race, from one to other's blood,

+Beyond prevention of man's wisest care:

+Wherefore one nation rises into sway,

+Another languishes, e'en as her will

+Decrees, from us conceal'd, as in the grass

+The serpent train.  Against her nought avails

+Your utmost wisdom.  She with foresight plans,

+Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs

+The other powers divine.  Her changes know

+Nore intermission: by necessity

+She is made swift, so frequent come who claim

+Succession in her favours.  This is she,

+So execrated e'en by those, whose debt

+To her is rather praise; they wrongfully

+With blame requite her, and with evil word;

+But she is blessed, and for that recks not:

+Amidst the other primal beings glad

+Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults.

+Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe

+Descending: for each star is falling now,

+That mounted at our entrance, and forbids

+Too long our tarrying."  We the circle cross'd

+To the next steep, arriving at a well,

+That boiling pours itself down to a foss

+Sluic'd from its source.  Far murkier was the wave

+Than sablest grain: and we in company

+Of the' inky waters, journeying by their side,

+Enter'd, though by a different track, beneath.

+Into a lake, the Stygian nam'd, expands

+The dismal stream, when it hath reach'd the foot

+Of the grey wither'd cliffs.  Intent I stood

+To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried

+A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks

+Betok'ning rage.  They with their hands alone

+Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet,

+Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs.

+

+The good instructor spake; "Now seest thou, son!

+The souls of those, whom anger overcame.

+This too for certain know, that underneath

+The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs

+Into these bubbles make the surface heave,

+As thine eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turn."

+Fix'd in the slime they say: "Sad once were we

+In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun,

+Carrying a foul and lazy mist within:

+Now in these murky settlings are we sad."

+Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats.

+But word distinct can utter none."  Our route

+Thus compass'd we, a segment widely stretch'd

+Between the dry embankment, and the core

+Of the loath'd pool, turning meanwhile our eyes

+Downward on those who gulp'd its muddy lees;

+Nor stopp'd, till to a tower's low base we came.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO VIII

+

+MY theme pursuing, I relate that ere

+We reach'd the lofty turret's base, our eyes

+Its height ascended, where two cressets hung

+We mark'd, and from afar another light

+Return the signal, so remote, that scarce

+The eye could catch its beam.  I turning round

+To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir'd:

+"Say what this means?  and what that other light

+In answer set?  what agency doth this?"

+

+"There on the filthy waters," he replied,

+"E'en now what next awaits us mayst thou see,

+If the marsh-gender'd fog conceal it not."

+

+Never was arrow from the cord dismiss'd,

+That ran its way so nimbly through the air,

+As a small bark, that through the waves I spied

+Toward us coming, under the sole sway

+Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud:

+"Art thou arriv'd, fell spirit?"--"Phlegyas, Phlegyas,

+This time thou criest in vain," my lord replied;

+"No longer shalt thou have us, but while o'er

+The slimy pool we pass."  As one who hears

+Of some great wrong he hath sustain'd, whereat

+Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin'd

+In his fierce ire.  My guide descending stepp'd

+Into the skiff, and bade me enter next

+Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem'd

+The vessel freighted.  Soon as both embark'd,

+Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow,

+More deeply than with others it is wont.

+

+While we our course o'er the dead channel held.

+One drench'd in mire before me came, and said;

+"Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?"

+

+I answer'd: "Though I come, I tarry not;

+But who art thou, that art become so foul?"

+

+"One, as thou seest, who mourn:" he straight replied.

+

+To which I thus: "In mourning and in woe,

+Curs'd spirit! tarry thou.g I know thee well,

+E'en thus in filth disguis'd."  Then stretch'd he forth

+Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage

+Aware, thrusting him back: "Away! down there;

+

+"To the' other dogs!" then, with his arms my neck

+Encircling, kiss'd my cheek, and spake: "O soul

+Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom

+Thou was conceiv'd!  He in the world was one

+For arrogance noted; to his memory

+No virtue lends its lustre; even so

+Here is his shadow furious.  There above

+How many now hold themselves mighty kings

+Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,

+Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!"

+

+I then: "Master! him fain would I behold

+Whelm'd in these dregs, before we quit the lake."

+

+He thus: "Or ever to thy view the shore

+Be offer'd, satisfied shall be that wish,

+Which well deserves completion."  Scarce his words

+Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes

+Set on him with such violence, that yet

+For that render I thanks to God and praise

+"To Filippo Argenti:" cried they all:

+And on himself the moody Florentine

+Turn'd his avenging fangs.  Him here we left,

+Nor speak I of him more.  But on mine ear

+Sudden a sound of lamentation smote,

+Whereat mine eye unbarr'd I sent abroad.

+

+And thus the good instructor: "Now, my son!

+Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam'd,

+With its grave denizens, a mighty throng."

+

+I thus: "The minarets already, Sir!

+There certes in the valley I descry,

+Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire

+Had issu'd."  He replied: "Eternal fire,

+That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame

+Illum'd; as in this nether hell thou seest."

+

+We came within the fosses deep, that moat

+This region comfortless.  The walls appear'd

+As they were fram'd of iron.  We had made

+Wide circuit, ere a place we reach'd, where loud

+The mariner cried vehement: "Go forth!

+The' entrance is here!"  Upon the gates I spied

+More than a thousand, who of old from heaven

+Were hurl'd.  With ireful gestures, "Who is this,"

+They cried, "that without death first felt, goes through

+The regions of the dead?"  My sapient guide

+Made sign that he for secret parley wish'd;

+Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus

+They spake: "Come thou alone; and let him go

+Who hath so hardily enter'd this realm.

+Alone return he by his witless way;

+If well he know it, let him prove.  For thee,

+Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark

+Hast been his escort." Now bethink thee, reader!

+What cheer was mine at sound of those curs'd words.

+I did believe I never should return.

+

+"O my lov'd guide! who more than seven times

+Security hast render'd me, and drawn

+From peril deep, whereto I stood expos'd,

+Desert me not," I cried, "in this extreme.

+And if our onward going be denied,

+Together trace we back our steps with speed."

+

+My liege, who thither had conducted me,

+Replied: "Fear not: for of our passage none

+Hath power to disappoint us, by such high

+Authority permitted.  But do thou

+Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit

+Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur'd

+I will not leave thee in this lower world."

+

+This said, departs the sire benevolent,

+And quits me.  Hesitating I remain

+At war 'twixt will and will not in my thoughts.

+

+I could not hear what terms he offer'd them,

+But they conferr'd not long, for all at once

+To trial fled within.  Clos'd were the gates

+By those our adversaries on the breast

+Of my liege lord: excluded he return'd

+To me with tardy steps.  Upon the ground

+His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras'd

+All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake:

+"Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?"

+Then thus to me: "That I am anger'd, think

+No ground of terror: in this trial I

+Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within

+For hindrance.  This their insolence, not new,

+Erewhile at gate less secret they display'd,

+Which still is without bolt; upon its arch

+Thou saw'st the deadly scroll: and even now

+On this side of its entrance, down the steep,

+Passing the circles, unescorted, comes

+One whose strong might can open us this land."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO IX

+

+THE hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks

+Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back,

+Chas'd that from his which newly they had worn,

+And inwardly restrain'd it.  He, as one

+Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye

+Not far could lead him through the sable air,

+And the thick-gath'ring cloud.  "It yet behooves

+We win this fight"--thus he began--"if not--

+Such aid to us is offer'd.--Oh, how long

+Me seems it, ere the promis'd help arrive!"

+

+I noted, how the sequel of his words

+Clok'd their beginning; for the last he spake

+Agreed not with the first.  But not the less

+My fear was at his saying; sith I drew

+To import worse perchance, than that he held,

+His mutilated speech.  "Doth ever any

+Into this rueful concave's extreme depth

+Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain

+Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?"

+

+Thus I inquiring. "Rarely," he replied,

+"It chances, that among us any makes

+This journey, which I wend.  Erewhile 'tis true

+Once came I here beneath, conjur'd by fell

+Erictho, sorceress, who compell'd the shades

+Back to their bodies.  No long space my flesh

+Was naked of me, when within these walls

+She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit

+From out of Judas' circle.  Lowest place

+Is that of all, obscurest, and remov'd

+Farthest from heav'n's all-circling orb.  The road

+Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure.

+That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round

+The city' of grief encompasses, which now

+We may not enter without rage."  Yet more

+He added: but I hold it not in mind,

+For that mine eye toward the lofty tower

+Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top.

+Where in an instant I beheld uprisen

+At once three hellish furies stain'd with blood:

+In limb and motion feminine they seem'd;

+Around them greenest hydras twisting roll'd

+Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept

+Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound.

+

+He knowing well the miserable hags

+Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake:

+

+"Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left

+This is Megaera; on the right hand she,

+Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone

+I' th' midst."  This said, in silence he remain'd

+Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves

+Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais'd,

+That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound.

+"Hasten Medusa: so to adamant

+Him shall we change;" all looking down exclaim'd.

+"E'en when by Theseus' might assail'd, we took

+No ill revenge."  "Turn thyself round, and keep

+Thy count'nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire

+Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return

+Upwards would be for ever lost."  This said,

+Himself my gentle master turn'd me round,

+Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own

+He also hid me.  Ye of intellect

+Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal'd

+Under close texture of the mystic strain!

+

+And now there came o'er the perturbed waves

+Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made

+Either shore tremble, as if of a wind

+Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung,

+That 'gainst some forest driving all its might,

+Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls

+Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps

+Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly.

+

+Mine eyes he loos'd, and spake: "And now direct

+Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,

+There, thickest where the smoke ascends." As frogs

+Before their foe the serpent, through the wave

+Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one

+Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits

+Destroy'd, so saw I fleeing before one

+Who pass'd with unwet feet the Stygian sound.

+He, from his face removing the gross air,

+Oft his left hand forth stretch'd, and seem'd alone

+By that annoyance wearied.  I perceiv'd

+That he was sent from heav'n, and to my guide

+Turn'd me, who signal made that I should stand

+Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full

+Of noble anger seem'd he!  To the gate

+He came, and with his wand touch'd it, whereat

+Open without impediment it flew.

+

+"Outcasts of heav'n!  O abject race and scorn'd!"

+Began he on the horrid grunsel standing,

+"Whence doth this wild excess of insolence

+Lodge in you? wherefore kick you 'gainst that will

+Ne'er frustrate of its end, and which so oft

+Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?

+What profits at the fays to but the horn?

+Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence

+Bears still, peel'd of their hair, his throat and maw."

+

+This said, he turn'd back o'er the filthy way,

+And syllable to us spake none, but wore

+The semblance of a man by other care

+Beset, and keenly press'd, than thought of him

+Who in his presence stands.  Then we our steps

+Toward that territory mov'd, secure

+After the hallow'd words.  We unoppos'd

+There enter'd; and my mind eager to learn

+What state a fortress like to that might hold,

+I soon as enter'd throw mine eye around,

+And see on every part wide-stretching space

+Replete with bitter pain and torment ill.

+

+As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles,

+Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro's gulf,

+That closes Italy and laves her bounds,

+The place is all thick spread with sepulchres;

+So was it here, save what in horror here

+Excell'd: for 'midst the graves were scattered flames,

+Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn'd,

+That iron for no craft there hotter needs.

+

+Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath

+From them forth issu'd lamentable moans,

+Such as the sad and tortur'd well might raise.

+

+I thus: "Master! say who are these, interr'd

+Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear

+The dolorous sighs?"  He answer thus return'd:

+

+"The arch-heretics are here, accompanied

+By every sect their followers; and much more,

+Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like

+With like is buried; and the monuments

+Are different in degrees of heat."  This said,

+He to the right hand turning, on we pass'd

+Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO X

+

+NOW by a secret pathway we proceed,

+Between the walls, that hem the region round,

+And the tormented souls: my master first,

+I close behind his steps.  "Virtue supreme!"

+I thus began; "who through these ample orbs

+In circuit lead'st me, even as thou will'st,

+Speak thou, and satisfy my wish.  May those,

+Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen?

+Already all the lids are rais'd, and none

+O'er them keeps watch."  He thus in answer spake

+"They shall be closed all, what-time they here

+From Josaphat return'd shall come, and bring

+Their bodies, which above they now have left.

+The cemetery on this part obtain

+With Epicurus all his followers,

+Who with the body make the spirit die.

+Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon

+Both to the question ask'd, and to the wish,

+Which thou conceal'st in silence."  I replied:

+"I keep not, guide belov'd! from thee my heart

+Secreted, but to shun vain length of words,

+A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself."

+

+"O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire

+Alive art passing, so discreet of speech!

+Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance

+Declares the place of thy nativity

+To be that noble land, with which perchance

+I too severely dealt."  Sudden that sound

+Forth issu'd from a vault, whereat in fear

+I somewhat closer to my leader's side

+Approaching, he thus spake: "What dost thou?  Turn.

+Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself

+Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all

+Expos'd behold him."  On his face was mine

+Already fix'd; his breast and forehead there

+Erecting, seem'd as in high scorn he held

+E'en hell.  Between the sepulchres to him

+My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt,

+This warning added: "See thy words be clear!"

+

+He, soon as there I stood at the tomb's foot,

+Ey'd me a space, then in disdainful mood

+Address'd me: "Say, what ancestors were thine?"

+

+I, willing to obey him, straight reveal'd

+The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow

+Somewhat uplifting, cried: "Fiercely were they

+Adverse to me, my party, and the blood

+From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad

+Scatter'd them."  "Though driv'n out, yet they each time

+From all parts," answer'd I, "return'd; an art

+Which yours have shown, they are not skill'd to learn."

+

+Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw,

+Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin,

+Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais'd.

+It look'd around, as eager to explore

+If there were other with me; but perceiving

+That fond imagination quench'd, with tears

+Thus spake: "If thou through this blind prison go'st.

+Led by thy lofty genius and profound,

+Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?"

+

+I straight replied: "Not of myself I come,

+By him, who there expects me, through this clime

+Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son

+Had in contempt."  Already had his words

+And mode of punishment read me his name,

+Whence I so fully answer'd.  He at once

+Exclaim'd, up starting, "How! said'st thou he HAD?

+No longer lives he?  Strikes not on his eye

+The blessed daylight?"  Then of some delay

+I made ere my reply aware, down fell

+Supine, not after forth appear'd he more.

+

+Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom

+I yet was station'd, chang'd not count'nance stern,

+Nor mov'd the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.

+"And if," continuing the first discourse,

+"They in this art," he cried, "small skill have shown,

+That doth torment me more e'en than this bed.

+But not yet fifty times shall be relum'd

+Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm,

+Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art.

+So to the pleasant world mayst thou return,

+As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws,

+Against my kin this people is so fell?"

+

+"The slaughter and great havoc," I replied,

+"That colour'd Arbia's flood with crimson stain--

+To these impute, that in our hallow'd dome

+Such orisons ascend."  Sighing he shook

+The head, then thus resum'd: "In that affray

+I stood not singly, nor without just cause

+Assuredly should with the rest have stirr'd;

+But singly there I stood, when by consent

+Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz'd,

+The one who openly forbad the deed."

+

+"So may thy lineage find at last repose,"

+I thus adjur'd him, "as thou solve this knot,

+Which now involves my mind.  If right I hear,

+Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time

+Leads with him, of the present uninform'd."

+

+"We view, as one who hath an evil sight,"

+He answer'd, "plainly, objects far remote:

+So much of his large spendour yet imparts

+The' Almighty Ruler; but when they approach

+Or actually exist, our intellect

+Then wholly fails, nor of your human state

+Except what others bring us know we aught.

+Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all

+Our knowledge in that instant shall expire,

+When on futurity the portals close."

+

+Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse

+Smitten, I added thus: "Now shalt thou say

+To him there fallen, that his offspring still

+Is to the living join'd; and bid him know,

+That if from answer silent I abstain'd,

+'Twas that my thought was occupied intent

+Upon that error, which thy help hath solv'd."

+

+But now my master summoning me back

+I heard, and with more eager haste besought

+The spirit to inform me, who with him

+Partook his lot.  He answer thus return'd:

+

+"More than a thousand with me here are laid

+Within is Frederick, second of that name,

+And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest

+I speak not."  He, this said, from sight withdrew.

+But I my steps towards the ancient bard

+Reverting, ruminated on the words

+Betokening me such ill.  Onward he mov'd,

+And thus in going question'd: "Whence the' amaze

+That holds thy senses wrapt?"  I satisfied

+The' inquiry, and the sage enjoin'd me straight:

+"Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard

+To thee importing harm; and note thou this,"

+With his rais'd finger bidding me take heed,

+

+"When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,

+Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life

+The future tenour will to thee unfold."

+

+Forthwith he to the left hand turn'd his feet:

+We left the wall, and tow'rds the middle space

+Went by a path, that to a valley strikes;

+Which e'en thus high exhal'd its noisome steam.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XI

+

+UPON the utmost verge of a high bank,

+By craggy rocks environ'd round, we came,

+Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow'd:

+And here to shun the horrible excess

+Of fetid exhalation, upward cast

+From the profound abyss, behind the lid

+Of a great monument we stood retir'd,

+

+Whereon this scroll I mark'd: "I have in charge

+Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew

+From the right path.--Ere our descent behooves

+We make delay, that somewhat first the sense,

+To the dire breath accustom'd, afterward

+Regard it not."  My master thus; to whom

+Answering I spake: "Some compensation find

+That the time past not wholly lost."  He then:

+"Lo! how my thoughts e'en to thy wishes tend!

+My son! within these rocks," he thus began,

+"Are three close circles in gradation plac'd,

+As these which now thou leav'st. Each one is full

+Of spirits accurs'd; but that the sight alone

+Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how

+And for what cause in durance they abide.

+

+"Of all malicious act abhorr'd in heaven,

+The end is injury; and all such end

+Either by force or fraud works other's woe

+But fraud, because of man peculiar evil,

+To God is more displeasing; and beneath

+The fraudulent are therefore doom'd to' endure

+Severer pang.  The violent occupy

+All the first circle; and because to force

+Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds

+Hach within other sep'rate is it fram'd.

+To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man

+Force may be offer'd; to himself I say

+And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear

+At full.  Death, violent death, and painful wounds

+Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes

+By devastation, pillage, and the flames,

+His substance.  Slayers, and each one that smites

+In malice, plund'rers, and all robbers, hence

+The torment undergo of the first round

+In different herds.  Man can do violence

+To himself and his own blessings: and for this

+He in the second round must aye deplore

+With unavailing penitence his crime,

+Whoe'er deprives himself of life and light,

+In reckless lavishment his talent wastes,

+And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy.

+To God may force be offer'd, in the heart

+Denying and blaspheming his high power,

+And nature with her kindly law contemning.

+And thence the inmost round marks with its seal

+Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak

+Contemptuously' of the Godhead in their hearts.

+

+"Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting,

+May be by man employ'd on one, whose trust

+He wins, or on another who withholds

+Strict confidence.  Seems as the latter way

+Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.

+Whence in the second circle have their nest

+Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries,

+Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce

+To lust, or set their honesty at pawn,

+With such vile scum as these.  The other way

+Forgets both Nature's general love, and that

+Which thereto added afterwards gives birth

+To special faith.  Whence in the lesser circle,

+Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis,

+The traitor is eternally consum'd."

+

+I thus: "Instructor, clearly thy discourse

+Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm

+And its inhabitants with skill exact.

+But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool,

+Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives,

+Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet,

+Wherefore within the city fire-illum'd

+Are not these punish'd, if God's wrath be on them?

+And if it be not, wherefore in such guise

+Are they condemned?"  He answer thus return'd:

+"Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind,

+Not so accustom'd? or what other thoughts

+Possess it?  Dwell not in thy memory

+The words, wherein thy ethic page describes

+Three dispositions adverse to Heav'n's will,

+Incont'nence, malice, and mad brutishness,

+And how incontinence the least offends

+God, and least guilt incurs?  If well thou note

+This judgment, and remember who they are,

+Without these walls to vain repentance doom'd,

+Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac'd

+From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours

+Justice divine on them its vengeance down."

+

+"O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight,

+Thou so content'st me, when thou solv'st my doubt,

+That ignorance not less than knowledge charms.

+Yet somewhat turn thee back," I in these words

+Continu'd, "where thou saidst, that usury

+Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot

+Perplex'd unravel."  He thus made reply:

+"Philosophy, to an attentive ear,

+Clearly points out, not in one part alone,

+How imitative nature takes her course

+From the celestial mind and from its art:

+And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds,

+Not many leaves scann'd o'er, observing well

+Thou shalt discover, that your art on her

+Obsequious follows, as the learner treads

+In his instructor's step, so that your art

+Deserves the name of second in descent

+From God.  These two, if thou recall to mind

+Creation's holy book, from the beginning

+Were the right source of life and excellence

+To human kind.  But in another path

+The usurer walks; and Nature in herself

+And in her follower thus he sets at nought,

+Placing elsewhere his hope.  But follow now

+My steps on forward journey bent; for now

+The Pisces play with undulating glance

+Along the' horizon, and the Wain lies all

+O'er the north-west; and onward there a space

+Is our steep passage down the rocky height."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XII

+

+THE place where to descend the precipice

+We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge

+Such object lay, as every eye would shun.

+

+As is that ruin, which Adice's stream

+On this side Trento struck, should'ring the wave,

+Or loos'd by earthquake or for lack of prop;

+For from the mountain's summit, whence it mov'd

+To the low level, so the headlong rock

+Is shiver'd, that some passage it might give

+To him who from above would pass; e'en such

+Into the chasm was that descent: and there

+At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch'd

+The infamy of Crete, detested brood

+Of the feign'd heifer: and at sight of us

+It gnaw'd itself, as one with rage distract.

+

+To him my guide exclaim'd: "Perchance thou deem'st

+The King of Athens here, who, in the world

+Above, thy death contriv'd.  Monster! avaunt!

+He comes not tutor'd by thy sister's art,

+But to behold your torments is he come."

+

+Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring

+Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow

+Hath struck him, but unable to proceed

+Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge

+The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim'd:

+"Run to the passage! while he storms, 't is well

+That thou descend."  Thus down our road we took

+Through those dilapidated crags, that oft

+Mov'd underneath my feet, to weight like theirs

+Unus'd.  I pond'ring went, and thus he spake:

+

+"Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin'd steep,

+Guarded by the brute violence, which I

+Have vanquish'd now. Know then, that when I erst

+Hither descended to the nether hell,

+This rock was not yet fallen.  But past doubt

+(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived,

+Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil

+Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds

+Such trembling seiz'd the deep concave and foul,

+I thought the universe was thrill'd with love,

+Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft

+Been into chaos turn'd: and in that point,

+Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down.

+But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood

+Approaches, in the which all those are steep'd,

+Who have by violence injur'd."  O blind lust!

+O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on

+In the brief life, and in the eternal then

+Thus miserably o'erwhelm us.  I beheld

+An ample foss, that in a bow was bent,

+As circling all the plain; for so my guide

+Had told.  Between it and the rampart's base

+On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm'd,

+As to the chase they on the earth were wont.

+

+At seeing us descend they each one stood;

+And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows

+And missile weapons chosen first; of whom

+One cried from far: "Say to what pain ye come

+Condemn'd, who down this steep have journied?  Speak

+From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw."

+

+To whom my guide: "Our answer shall be made

+To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come.

+Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash."

+

+Then me he touch'd, and spake: "Nessus is this,

+Who for the fair Deianira died,

+And wrought himself revenge for his own fate.

+He in the midst, that on his breast looks down,

+Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs'd;

+That other Pholus, prone to wrath."  Around

+The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts

+At whatsoever spirit dares emerge

+From out the blood, more than his guilt allows.

+

+We to those beasts, that rapid strode along,

+Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth,

+And with the notch push'd back his shaggy beard

+To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view

+Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim'd:

+"Are ye aware, that he who comes behind

+Moves what he touches?  The feet of the dead

+Are not so wont."  My trusty guide, who now

+Stood near his breast, where the two natures join,

+Thus made reply: "He is indeed alive,

+And solitary so must needs by me

+Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc'd

+By strict necessity, not by delight.

+She left her joyful harpings in the sky,

+Who this new office to my care consign'd.

+He is no robber, no dark spirit I.

+But by that virtue, which empowers my step

+To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray,

+One of thy band, whom we may trust secure,

+Who to the ford may lead us, and convey

+Across, him mounted on his back; for he

+Is not a spirit that may walk the air."

+

+Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus

+To Nessus spake: "Return, and be their guide.

+And if ye chance to cross another troop,

+Command them keep aloof."  Onward we mov'd,

+The faithful escort by our side, along

+The border of the crimson-seething flood,

+Whence from those steep'd within loud shrieks arose.

+

+Some there I mark'd, as high as to their brow

+Immers'd, of whom the mighty Centaur thus:

+"These are the souls of tyrants, who were given

+To blood and rapine.  Here they wail aloud

+Their merciless wrongs.  Here Alexander dwells,

+And Dionysius fell, who many a year

+Of woe wrought for fair Sicily.  That brow

+Whereon the hair so jetty clust'ring hangs,

+Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks

+Obizzo' of Este, in the world destroy'd

+By his foul step-son."  To the bard rever'd

+I turned me round, and thus he spake; "Let him

+Be to thee now first leader, me but next

+To him in rank."  Then farther on a space

+The Centaur paus'd, near some, who at the throat

+Were extant from the wave; and showing us

+A spirit by itself apart retir'd,

+Exclaim'd: "He in God's bosom smote the heart,

+Which yet is honour'd on the bank of Thames."

+

+A race I next espied, who held the head,

+And even all the bust above the stream.

+'Midst these I many a face remember'd well.

+Thus shallow more and more the blood became,

+So that at last it but imbru'd the feet;

+And there our passage lay athwart the foss.

+

+"As ever on this side the boiling wave

+Thou seest diminishing," the Centaur said,

+"So on the other, be thou well assur'd,

+It lower still and lower sinks its bed,

+Till in that part it reuniting join,

+Where 't is the lot of tyranny to mourn.

+There Heav'n's stern justice lays chastising hand

+On Attila, who was the scourge of earth,

+On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts

+Tears ever by the seething flood unlock'd

+From the Rinieri, of Corneto this,

+Pazzo the other nam'd, who fill'd the ways

+With violence and war."  This said, he turn'd,

+And quitting us, alone repass'd the ford.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIII

+

+ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank,

+We enter'd on a forest, where no track

+Of steps had worn a way.  Not verdant there

+The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light

+The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'd

+And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns

+Instead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these,

+Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide

+Those animals, that hate the cultur'd fields,

+Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream.

+

+Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same

+Who from the Strophades the Trojan band

+Drove with dire boding of their future woe.

+Broad are their pennons, of the human form

+Their neck and count'nance, arm'd with talons keen

+The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings

+These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood.

+

+The kind instructor in these words began:

+"Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now

+I' th' second round, and shalt be, till thou come

+Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well

+Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold,

+As would my speech discredit."  On all sides

+I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see

+From whom they might have issu'd.  In amaze

+Fast bound I stood.  He, as it seem'd, believ'd,

+That I had thought so many voices came

+From some amid those thickets close conceal'd,

+And thus his speech resum'd: "If thou lop off

+A single twig from one of those ill plants,

+The thought thou hast conceiv'd shall vanish quite."

+

+Thereat a little stretching forth my hand,

+From a great wilding gather'd I a branch,

+And straight the trunk exclaim'd: "Why pluck'st thou me?"

+

+Then as the dark blood trickled down its side,

+These words it added: "Wherefore tear'st me thus?

+Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast?

+Men once were we, that now are rooted here.

+Thy hand might well have spar'd us, had we been

+The souls of serpents."  As a brand yet green,

+That burning at one end from the' other sends

+A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind

+That forces out its way, so burst at once,

+Forth from the broken splinter words and blood.

+

+I, letting fall the bough, remain'd as one

+Assail'd by terror, and the sage replied:

+"If he, O injur'd spirit! could have believ'd

+What he hath seen but in my verse describ'd,

+He never against thee had stretch'd his hand.

+But I, because the thing surpass'd belief,

+Prompted him to this deed, which even now

+Myself I rue.  But tell me, who thou wast;

+That, for this wrong to do thee some amends,

+In the upper world (for thither to return

+Is granted him) thy fame he may revive."

+

+"That pleasant word of thine," the trunk replied

+"Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech

+Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge

+A little longer, in the snare detain'd,

+Count it not grievous.  I it was, who held

+Both keys to Frederick's heart, and turn'd the wards,

+Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet,

+That besides me, into his inmost breast

+Scarce any other could admittance find.

+The faith I bore to my high charge was such,

+It cost me the life-blood that warm'd my veins.

+The harlot, who ne'er turn'd her gloating eyes

+From Caesar's household, common vice and pest

+Of courts, 'gainst me inflam'd the minds of all;

+And to Augustus they so spread the flame,

+That my glad honours chang'd to bitter woes.

+My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought

+Refuge in death from scorn, and I became,

+Just as I was, unjust toward myself.

+By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,

+That never faith I broke to my liege lord,

+Who merited such honour; and of you,

+If any to the world indeed return,

+Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies

+Yet prostrate under envy's cruel blow."

+

+First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words

+Were ended, then to me the bard began:

+"Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask,

+If more thou wish to learn."  Whence I replied:

+"Question thou him again of whatsoe'er

+Will, as thou think'st, content me; for no power

+Have I to ask, such pity' is at my heart."

+

+He thus resum'd; "So may he do for thee

+Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet

+Be pleas'd, imprison'd Spirit! to declare,

+How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied;

+And whether any ever from such frame

+Be loosen'd, if thou canst, that also tell."

+

+Thereat the trunk breath'd hard, and the wind soon

+Chang'd into sounds articulate like these;

+

+"Briefly ye shall be answer'd.  When departs

+The fierce soul from the body, by itself

+Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf

+By Minos doom'd, into the wood it falls,

+No place assign'd, but wheresoever chance

+Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt,

+It rises to a sapling, growing thence

+A savage plant.  The Harpies, on its leaves

+Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain

+A vent to grief.  We, as the rest, shall come

+For our own spoils, yet not so that with them

+We may again be clad; for what a man

+Takes from himself it is not just he have.

+Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout

+The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung,

+Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade."

+

+Attentive yet to listen to the trunk

+We stood, expecting farther speech, when us

+A noise surpris'd, as when a man perceives

+The wild boar and the hunt approach his place

+Of station'd watch, who of the beasts and boughs

+Loud rustling round him hears.  And lo! there came

+Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight,

+That they before them broke each fan o' th' wood.

+"Haste now," the foremost cried, "now haste thee death!"

+

+The' other, as seem'd, impatient of delay

+Exclaiming, "Lano! not so bent for speed

+Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo's field."

+And then, for that perchance no longer breath

+Suffic'd him, of himself and of a bush

+One group he made.  Behind them was the wood

+Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet,

+As greyhounds that have newly slipp'd the leash.

+On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs,

+And having rent him piecemeal bore away

+The tortur'd limbs.  My guide then seiz'd my hand,

+And led me to the thicket, which in vain

+Mourn'd through its bleeding wounds: "O Giacomo

+Of Sant' Andrea! what avails it thee,"

+It cried, "that of me thou hast made thy screen?

+For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?"

+

+When o'er it he had paus'd, my master spake:

+"Say who wast thou, that at so many points

+Breath'st out with blood thy lamentable speech?"

+

+He answer'd: "Oh, ye spirits: arriv'd in time

+To spy the shameful havoc, that from me

+My leaves hath sever'd thus, gather them up,

+And at the foot of their sad parent-tree

+Carefully lay them.  In that city' I dwelt,

+Who for the Baptist her first patron chang'd,

+Whence he for this shall cease not with his art

+To work her woe: and if there still remain'd not

+On Arno's passage some faint glimpse of him,

+Those citizens, who rear'd once more her walls

+Upon the ashes left by Attila,

+Had labour'd without profit of their toil.

+I slung the fatal noose from my own roof."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIV

+

+SOON as the charity of native land

+Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter'd leaves

+Collected, and to him restor'd, who now

+Was hoarse with utt'rance.  To the limit thence

+We came, which from the third the second round

+Divides, and where of justice is display'd

+Contrivance horrible.  Things then first seen

+Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next

+A plain we reach'd, that from its sterile bed

+Each plant repell'd. The mournful wood waves round

+Its garland on all sides, as round the wood

+Spreads the sad foss.  There, on the very edge,

+Our steps we stay'd.  It was an area wide

+Of arid sand and thick, resembling most

+The soil that erst by Cato's foot was trod.

+

+Vengeance of Heav'n!  Oh! how shouldst thou be fear'd

+By all, who read what here my eyes beheld!

+

+Of naked spirits many a flock I saw,

+All weeping piteously, to different laws

+Subjected: for on the' earth some lay supine,

+Some crouching close were seated, others pac'd

+Incessantly around; the latter tribe,

+More numerous, those fewer who beneath

+The torment lay, but louder in their grief.

+

+O'er all the sand fell slowly wafting down

+Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow

+On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush'd.

+As in the torrid Indian clime, the son

+Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band

+Descending, solid flames, that to the ground

+Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop

+To trample on the soil; for easier thus

+The vapour was extinguish'd, while alone;

+So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith

+The marble glow'd underneath, as under stove

+The viands, doubly to augment the pain.

+

+Unceasing was the play of wretched hands,

+Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off

+The heat, still falling fresh.  I thus began:

+"Instructor! thou who all things overcom'st,

+Except the hardy demons, that rush'd forth

+To stop our entrance at the gate, say who

+Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not

+The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn,

+As by the sultry tempest immatur'd?"

+

+Straight he himself, who was aware I ask'd

+My guide of him, exclaim'd: "Such as I was

+When living, dead such now I am.  If Jove

+Weary his workman out, from whom in ire

+He snatch'd the lightnings, that at my last day

+Transfix'd me, if the rest be weary out

+At their black smithy labouring by turns

+In Mongibello, while he cries aloud;

+"Help, help, good Mulciber!" as erst he cried

+In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts

+Launch he full aim'd at me with all his might,

+He never should enjoy a sweet revenge."

+

+Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais'd

+Than I before had heard him: "Capaneus!

+Thou art more punish'd, in that this thy pride

+Lives yet unquench'd: no torrent, save thy rage,

+Were to thy fury pain proportion'd full."

+

+Next turning round to me with milder lip

+He spake: "This of the seven kings was one,

+Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held,

+As still he seems to hold, God in disdain,

+And sets his high omnipotence at nought.

+But, as I told him, his despiteful mood

+Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it.

+Follow me now; and look thou set not yet

+Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood

+Keep ever close."  Silently on we pass'd

+To where there gushes from the forest's bound

+A little brook, whose crimson'd wave yet lifts

+My hair with horror.  As the rill, that runs

+From Bulicame, to be portion'd out

+Among the sinful women; so ran this

+Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank

+Stone-built, and either margin at its side,

+Whereon I straight perceiv'd our passage lay.

+

+"Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate

+We enter'd first, whose threshold is to none

+Denied, nought else so worthy of regard,

+As is this river, has thine eye discern'd,

+O'er which the flaming volley all is quench'd."

+

+So spake my guide; and I him thence besought,

+That having giv'n me appetite to know,

+The food he too would give, that hunger crav'd.

+

+"In midst of ocean," forthwith he began,

+"A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam'd,

+Under whose monarch in old times the world

+Liv'd pure and chaste.  A mountain rises there,

+Call'd Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams,

+Deserted now like a forbidden thing.

+It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn's spouse,

+Chose for the secret cradle of her son;

+And better to conceal him, drown'd in shouts

+His infant cries.  Within the mount, upright

+An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns

+His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome

+As in his mirror looks.  Of finest gold

+His head is shap'd, pure silver are the breast

+And arms; thence to the middle is of brass.

+And downward all beneath well-temper'd steel,

+Save the right foot of potter's clay, on which

+Than on the other more erect he stands,

+Each part except the gold, is rent throughout;

+And from the fissure tears distil, which join'd

+Penetrate to that cave.  They in their course

+Thus far precipitated down the rock

+Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon;

+Then by this straiten'd channel passing hence

+Beneath, e'en to the lowest depth of all,

+Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself

+Shall see it) I here give thee no account."

+

+Then I to him: "If from our world this sluice

+Be thus deriv'd; wherefore to us but now

+Appears it at this edge?"  He straight replied:

+"The place, thou know'st, is round; and though great part

+Thou have already pass'd, still to the left

+Descending to the nethermost, not yet

+Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb.

+Wherefore if aught of new to us appear,

+It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks."

+

+Then I again inquir'd: "Where flow the streams

+Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one

+Thou tell'st not, and the other of that shower,

+Thou say'st, is form'd."  He answer thus return'd:

+"Doubtless thy questions all well pleas'd I hear.

+Yet the red seething wave might have resolv'd

+One thou proposest.  Lethe thou shalt see,

+But not within this hollow, in the place,

+Whither to lave themselves the spirits go,

+Whose blame hath been by penitence remov'd."

+He added: "Time is now we quit the wood.

+Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give

+Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames;

+For over them all vapour is extinct."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XV

+

+One of the solid margins bears us now

+Envelop'd in the mist, that from the stream

+Arising, hovers o'er, and saves from fire

+Both piers and water.  As the Flemings rear

+Their mound, 'twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back

+The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide

+That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs

+Along the Brenta, to defend their towns

+And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt

+On Chiarentana's top; such were the mounds,

+So fram'd, though not in height or bulk to these

+Made equal, by the master, whosoe'er

+He was, that rais'd them here.  We from the wood

+Were not so far remov'd, that turning round

+I might not have discern'd it, when we met

+A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier.

+

+They each one ey'd us, as at eventide

+One eyes another under a new moon,

+And toward us sharpen'd their sight as keen,

+As an old tailor at his needle's eye.

+

+Thus narrowly explor'd by all the tribe,

+I was agniz'd of one, who by the skirt

+Caught me, and cried, "What wonder have we here!"

+

+And I, when he to me outstretch'd his arm,

+Intently fix'd my ken on his parch'd looks,

+That although smirch'd with fire, they hinder'd not

+But I remember'd him; and towards his face

+My hand inclining, answer'd: "Sir!  Brunetto!

+

+"And art thou here?"  He thus to me: "My son!

+Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto

+Latini but a little space with thee

+Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed."

+

+I thus to him replied: "Much as I can,

+I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing,

+That I here seat me with thee, I consent;

+His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain'd."

+

+"O son!" said he, "whoever of this throng

+One instant stops, lies then a hundred years,

+No fan to ventilate him, when the fire

+Smites sorest.  Pass thou therefore on.  I close

+Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin

+My troop, who go mourning their endless doom."

+

+I dar'd not from the path descend to tread

+On equal ground with him, but held my head

+Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise.

+

+"What chance or destiny," thus he began,

+"Ere the last day conducts thee here below?

+And who is this, that shows to thee the way?"

+

+"There up aloft," I answer'd, "in the life

+Serene, I wander'd in a valley lost,

+Before mine age had to its fullness reach'd.

+But yester-morn I left it: then once more

+Into that vale returning, him I met;

+And by this path homeward he leads me back."

+

+"If thou," he answer'd, "follow but thy star,

+Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven:

+Unless in fairer days my judgment err'd.

+And if my fate so early had not chanc'd,

+Seeing the heav'ns thus bounteous to thee, I

+Had gladly giv'n thee comfort in thy work.

+But that ungrateful and malignant race,

+Who in old times came down from Fesole,

+Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint,

+Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity.

+Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour'd crabs

+It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit.

+Old fame reports them in the world for blind,

+Covetous, envious, proud.  Look to it well:

+Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways.  For thee

+Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve,

+That thou by either party shalt be crav'd

+With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far

+From the goat's tooth.  The herd of Fesole

+May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant,

+If any such yet spring on their rank bed,

+In which the holy seed revives, transmitted

+From those true Romans, who still there remain'd,

+When it was made the nest of so much ill."

+

+"Were all my wish fulfill'd," I straight replied,

+"Thou from the confines of man's nature yet

+Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind

+Is fix'd, and now strikes full upon my heart

+The dear, benign, paternal image, such

+As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me

+The way for man to win eternity;

+And how I priz'd the lesson, it behooves,

+That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak,

+What of my fate thou tell'st, that write I down:

+And with another text to comment on

+For her I keep it, the celestial dame,

+Who will know all, if I to her arrive.

+This only would I have thee clearly note:

+That so my conscience have no plea against me;

+Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar'd.

+Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear.

+Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best,

+The clown his mattock; all things have their course."

+

+Thereat my sapient guide upon his right

+Turn'd himself back, then look'd at me and spake:

+"He listens to good purpose who takes note."

+

+I not the less still on my way proceed,

+Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire

+Who are most known and chief among his tribe.

+

+"To know of some is well;" thus he replied,

+"But of the rest silence may best beseem.

+Time would not serve us for report so long.

+In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks,

+Men of great learning and no less renown,

+By one same sin polluted in the world.

+With them is Priscian, and Accorso's son

+Francesco herds among that wretched throng:

+And, if the wish of so impure a blotch

+Possess'd thee, him thou also might'st have seen,

+Who by the servants' servant was transferr'd

+From Arno's seat to Bacchiglione, where

+His ill-strain'd nerves he left.  I more would add,

+But must from farther speech and onward way

+Alike desist, for yonder I behold

+A mist new-risen on the sandy plain.

+A company, with whom I may not sort,

+Approaches.  I commend my TREASURE to thee,

+Wherein I yet survive; my sole request."

+

+This said he turn'd, and seem'd as one of those,

+Who o'er Verona's champain try their speed

+For the green mantle, and of them he seem'd,

+Not he who loses but who gains the prize.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVI

+

+NOW came I where the water's din was heard,

+As down it fell into the other round,

+Resounding like the hum of swarming bees:

+When forth together issu'd from a troop,

+That pass'd beneath the fierce tormenting storm,

+Three spirits, running swift.  They towards us came,

+And each one cried aloud, "Oh do thou stay!

+Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem

+To be some inmate of our evil land."

+

+Ah me! what wounds I mark'd upon their limbs,

+Recent and old, inflicted by the flames!

+E'en the remembrance of them grieves me yet.

+

+Attentive to their cry my teacher paus'd,

+And turn'd to me his visage, and then spake;

+"Wait now! our courtesy these merit well:

+And were 't not for the nature of the place,

+Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said,

+That haste had better suited thee than them."

+

+They, when we stopp'd, resum'd their ancient wail,

+And soon as they had reach'd us, all the three

+Whirl'd round together in one restless wheel.

+As naked champions, smear'd with slippery oil,

+Are wont intent to watch their place of hold

+And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet;

+Thus each one, as he wheel'd, his countenance

+At me directed, so that opposite

+The neck mov'd ever to the twinkling feet.

+

+"If misery of this drear wilderness,"

+Thus one began, "added to our sad cheer

+And destitute, do call forth scorn on us

+And our entreaties, let our great renown

+Incline thee to inform us who thou art,

+That dost imprint with living feet unharm'd

+The soil of Hell.  He, in whose track thou see'st

+My steps pursuing, naked though he be

+And reft of all, was of more high estate

+Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste

+Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call'd,

+Who in his lifetime many a noble act

+Achiev'd, both by his wisdom and his sword.

+The other, next to me that beats the sand,

+Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well,

+In the' upper world, of honour; and myself

+Who in this torment do partake with them,

+Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife

+Of savage temper, more than aught beside

+Hath to this evil brought."  If from the fire

+I had been shelter'd, down amidst them straight

+I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem,

+Would have restrain'd my going; but that fear

+Of the dire burning vanquish'd the desire,

+Which made me eager of their wish'd embrace.

+

+I then began: "Not scorn, but grief much more,

+Such as long time alone can cure, your doom

+Fix'd deep within me, soon as this my lord

+Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect

+That such a race, as ye are, was at hand.

+I am a countryman of yours, who still

+Affectionate have utter'd, and have heard

+Your deeds and names renown'd.  Leaving the gall

+For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide

+Hath promis'd to me.  But behooves, that far

+As to the centre first I downward tend."

+

+"So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,"

+He answer straight return'd; "and so thy fame

+Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell,

+If courtesy and valour, as they wont,

+Dwell in our city, or have vanish'd clean?

+For one amidst us late condemn'd to wail,

+Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers,

+Grieves us no little by the news he brings."

+

+"An upstart multitude and sudden gains,

+Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee

+Engender'd, so that now in tears thou mourn'st!"

+Thus cried I with my face uprais'd, and they

+All three, who for an answer took my words,

+Look'd at each other, as men look when truth

+Comes to their ear.  "If thou at other times,"

+They all at once rejoin'd, "so easily

+Satisfy those, who question, happy thou,

+Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought!

+Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime,

+Returning to behold the radiant stars,

+When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past,

+See that of us thou speak among mankind."

+

+This said, they broke the circle, and so swift

+Fled, that as pinions seem'd their nimble feet.

+

+Not in so short a time might one have said

+"Amen," as they had vanish'd. Straight my guide

+Pursu'd his track.  I follow'd; and small space

+Had we pass'd onward, when the water's sound

+Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce

+Heard one another's speech for the loud din.

+

+E'en as the river, that holds on its course

+Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo,

+On the left side of Apennine, toward

+The east, which Acquacheta higher up

+They call, ere it descend into the vale,

+At Forli by that name no longer known,

+Rebellows o'er Saint Benedict, roll'd on

+From the' Alpine summit down a precipice,

+Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads;

+Thus downward from a craggy steep we found,

+That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud,

+So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn'd.

+

+I had a cord that brac'd my girdle round,

+Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take

+The painted leopard.  This when I had all

+Unloosen'd from me (so my master bade)

+I gather'd up, and stretch'd it forth to him.

+Then to the right he turn'd, and from the brink

+Standing few paces distant, cast it down

+Into the deep abyss.  "And somewhat strange,"

+Thus to myself I spake, "signal so strange

+Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye

+Thus follows."  Ah! what caution must men use

+With those who look not at the deed alone,

+But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill!

+

+"Quickly shall come," he said, "what I expect,

+Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof

+Thy thought is dreaming."  Ever to that truth,

+Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears,

+A man, if possible, should bar his lip;

+Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach.

+But silence here were vain; and by these notes

+Which now I sing, reader!  I swear to thee,

+So may they favour find to latest times!

+That through the gross and murky air I spied

+A shape come swimming up, that might have quell'd

+The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise

+As one returns, who hath been down to loose

+An anchor grappled fast against some rock,

+Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies,

+Who upward springing close draws in his feet.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVII

+

+"LO! the fell monster with the deadly sting!

+Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls

+And firm embattled spears, and with his filth

+Taints all the world!"  Thus me my guide address'd,

+And beckon'd him, that he should come to shore,

+Near to the stony causeway's utmost edge.

+

+Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear'd,

+His head and upper part expos'd on land,

+But laid not on the shore his bestial train.

+His face the semblance of a just man's wore,

+So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;

+The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws

+Reach'd to the armpits, and the back and breast,

+And either side, were painted o'er with nodes

+And orbits.  Colours variegated more

+Nor Turks nor Tartars e'er on cloth of state

+With interchangeable embroidery wove,

+Nor spread Arachne o'er her curious loom.

+As ofttimes a light skiff, moor'd to the shore,

+Stands part in water, part upon the land;

+Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,

+The beaver settles watching for his prey;

+So on the rim, that fenc'd the sand with rock,

+Sat perch'd the fiend of evil.  In the void

+Glancing, his tail upturn'd its venomous fork,

+With sting like scorpion's arm'd.  Then thus my guide:

+"Now need our way must turn few steps apart,

+Far as to that ill beast, who couches there."

+

+Thereat toward the right our downward course

+We shap'd, and, better to escape the flame

+And burning marle, ten paces on the verge

+Proceeded.  Soon as we to him arrive,

+A little further on mine eye beholds

+A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand

+Near the wide chasm.  Forthwith my master spake:

+"That to the full thy knowledge may extend

+Of all this round contains, go now, and mark

+The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse.

+Till thou returnest, I with him meantime

+Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe

+The aid of his strong shoulders."  Thus alone

+Yet forward on the' extremity I pac'd

+Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe

+Were seated.  At the eyes forth gush'd their pangs.

+Against the vapours and the torrid soil

+Alternately their shifting hands they plied.

+Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply

+Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore

+By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round.

+

+Noting the visages of some, who lay

+Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,

+One of them all I knew not; but perceiv'd,

+That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch

+With colours and with emblems various mark'd,

+On which it seem'd as if their eye did feed.

+

+And when amongst them looking round I came,

+A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought,

+That wore a lion's countenance and port.

+Then still my sight pursuing its career,

+Another I beheld, than blood more red.

+A goose display of whiter wing than curd.

+And one, who bore a fat and azure swine

+Pictur'd on his white scrip, addressed me thus:

+"What dost thou in this deep?  Go now and know,

+Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here

+Vitaliano on my left shall sit.

+A Paduan with these Florentines am I.

+Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming

+'O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch

+With the three beaks will bring!'"  This said, he writh'd

+The mouth, and loll'd the tongue out, like an ox

+That licks his nostrils.  I, lest longer stay

+He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long,

+Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn'd.

+

+My guide already seated on the haunch

+Of the fierce animal I found; and thus

+He me encourag'd.  "Be thou stout; be bold.

+Down such a steep flight must we now descend!

+Mount thou before: for that no power the tail

+May have to harm thee, I will be i' th' midst."

+

+As one, who hath an ague fit so near,

+His nails already are turn'd blue, and he

+Quivers all o'er, if he but eye the shade;

+Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.

+But shame soon interpos'd her threat, who makes

+The servant bold in presence of his lord.

+

+I settled me upon those shoulders huge,

+And would have said, but that the words to aid

+My purpose came not, "Look thou clasp me firm!"

+

+But he whose succour then not first I prov'd,

+Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft,

+Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake:

+"Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres

+Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.

+Think on th' unusual burden thou sustain'st."

+

+As a small vessel, back'ning out from land,

+Her station quits; so thence the monster loos'd,

+And when he felt himself at large, turn'd round

+There where the breast had been, his forked tail.

+Thus, like an eel, outstretch'd at length he steer'd,

+Gath'ring the air up with retractile claws.

+

+Not greater was the dread when Phaeton

+The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven,

+Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames;

+Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv'd,

+By liquefaction of the scalded wax,

+The trusted pennons loosen'd from his loins,

+His sire exclaiming loud, "Ill way thou keep'st!"

+Than was my dread, when round me on each part

+The air I view'd, and other object none

+Save the fell beast.  He slowly sailing, wheels

+His downward motion, unobserv'd of me,

+But that the wind, arising to my face,

+Breathes on me from below.  Now on our right

+I heard the cataract beneath us leap

+With hideous crash; whence bending down to' explore,

+New terror I conceiv'd at the steep plunge:

+

+For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear:

+So that all trembling close I crouch'd my limbs,

+And then distinguish'd, unperceiv'd before,

+By the dread torments that on every side

+Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound.

+

+As falcon, that hath long been on the wing,

+But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair

+The falconer cries, "Ah me! thou stoop'st to earth!"

+Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky

+In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits

+At distance from his lord in angry mood;

+So Geryon lighting places us on foot

+Low down at base of the deep-furrow'd rock,

+And, of his burden there discharg'd, forthwith

+Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVIII

+

+THERE is a place within the depths of hell

+Call'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'd

+With hue ferruginous, e'en as the steep

+That round it circling winds.  Right in the midst

+Of that abominable region, yawns

+A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame

+Due time shall tell.  The circle, that remains,

+Throughout its round, between the gulf and base

+Of the high craggy banks, successive forms

+Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk.

+

+As where to guard the walls, full many a foss

+Begirds some stately castle, sure defence

+Affording to the space within, so here

+Were model'd these; and as like fortresses

+E'en from their threshold to the brink without,

+Are flank'd with bridges; from the rock's low base

+Thus flinty paths advanc'd, that 'cross the moles

+And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf,

+That in one bound collected cuts them off.

+Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves

+From Geryon's back dislodg'd. The bard to left

+Held on his way, and I behind him mov'd.

+

+On our right hand new misery I saw,

+New pains, new executioners of wrath,

+That swarming peopled the first chasm.  Below

+Were naked sinners.  Hitherward they came,

+Meeting our faces from the middle point,

+With us beyond but with a larger stride.

+E'en thus the Romans, when the year returns

+Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid

+The thronging multitudes, their means devise

+For such as pass the bridge; that on one side

+All front toward the castle, and approach

+Saint Peter's fane, on th' other towards the mount.

+

+Each divers way along the grisly rock,

+Horn'd demons I beheld, with lashes huge,

+That on their back unmercifully smote.

+Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe!

+

+None for the second waited nor the third.

+

+Meantime as on I pass'd, one met my sight

+Whom soon as view'd; "Of him," cried I, "not yet

+Mine eye hath had his fill."  With fixed gaze

+I therefore scann'd him.  Straight the teacher kind

+Paus'd with me, and consented I should walk

+Backward a space, and the tormented spirit,

+Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down.

+But it avail'd him nought; for I exclaim'd:

+"Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground,

+Unless thy features do belie thee much,

+Venedico art thou.  But what brings thee

+Into this bitter seas'ning?" He replied:

+"Unwillingly I answer to thy words.

+But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls

+The world I once inhabited, constrains me.

+Know then 'twas I who led fair Ghisola

+To do the Marquis' will, however fame

+The shameful tale have bruited.  Nor alone

+Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn

+Rather with us the place is so o'erthrong'd

+That not so many tongues this day are taught,

+Betwixt the Reno and Savena's stream,

+To answer SIPA in their country's phrase.

+And if of that securer proof thou need,

+Remember but our craving thirst for gold."

+

+Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong

+Struck, and exclaim'd, "Away! corrupter! here

+Women are none for sale."  Forthwith I join'd

+My escort, and few paces thence we came

+To where a rock forth issued from the bank.

+That easily ascended, to the right

+Upon its splinter turning, we depart

+From those eternal barriers. When arriv'd,

+Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass

+The scourged souls: "Pause here," the teacher said,

+"And let these others miserable, now

+Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld,

+For that together they with us have walk'd."

+

+From the old bridge we ey'd the pack, who came

+From th' other side towards us, like the rest,

+Excoriate from the lash.  My gentle guide,

+By me unquestion'd, thus his speech resum'd:

+"Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends,

+And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear.

+How yet the regal aspect he retains!

+Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won

+The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle

+His passage thither led him, when those bold

+And pitiless women had slain all their males.

+There he with tokens and fair witching words

+Hypsipyle beguil'd, a virgin young,

+Who first had all the rest herself beguil'd.

+Impregnated he left her there forlorn.

+Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain.

+Here too Medea's inj'ries are avenged.

+All bear him company, who like deceit

+To his have practis'd.  And thus much to know

+Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those

+Whom its keen torments urge."  Now had we come

+Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten'd path

+Bestrides its shoulders to another arch.

+

+Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts,

+Who jibber in low melancholy sounds,

+With wide-stretch'd nostrils snort, and on themselves

+Smite with their palms.  Upon the banks a scurf

+From the foul steam condens'd, encrusting hung,

+That held sharp combat with the sight and smell.

+

+So hollow is the depth, that from no part,

+Save on the summit of the rocky span,

+Could I distinguish aught.  Thus far we came;

+And thence I saw, within the foss below,

+A crowd immers'd in ordure, that appear'd

+Draff of the human body.  There beneath

+Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark'd

+One with his head so grim'd, 't were hard to deem,

+If he were clerk or layman.  Loud he cried:

+"Why greedily thus bendest more on me,

+Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?"

+

+"Because if true my mem'ry," I replied,

+"I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks,

+And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung.

+Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more."

+

+Then beating on his brain these words he spake:

+"Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk,

+Wherewith I ne'er enough could glut my tongue."

+

+My leader thus: "A little further stretch

+Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note

+Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan,

+Who there doth rend her with defiled nails,

+Now crouching down, now risen on her feet.

+

+"Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip

+Answer'd her doting paramour that ask'd,

+'Thankest me much!'--'Say rather wondrously,'

+And seeing this here satiate be our view."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XIX

+

+WOE to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you,

+His wretched followers! who the things of God,

+Which should be wedded unto goodness, them,

+Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute

+For gold and silver in adultery!

+Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours

+Is the third chasm.  Upon the following vault

+We now had mounted, where the rock impends

+Directly o'er the centre of the foss.

+

+Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art,

+Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth,

+And in the evil world, how just a meed

+Allotting by thy virtue unto all!

+

+I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides

+And in its bottom full of apertures,

+All equal in their width, and circular each,

+Nor ample less nor larger they appear'd

+Than in Saint John's fair dome of me belov'd

+Those fram'd to hold the pure baptismal streams,

+One of the which I brake, some few years past,

+To save a whelming infant; and be this

+A seal to undeceive whoever doubts

+The motive of my deed.  From out the mouth

+Of every one, emerg'd a sinner's feet

+And of the legs high upward as the calf

+The rest beneath was hid.  On either foot

+The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints

+Glanc'd with such violent motion, as had snapt

+Asunder cords or twisted withs.  As flame,

+Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along

+The surface, scarcely touching where it moves;

+So here, from heel to point, glided the flames.

+

+"Master! say who is he, than all the rest

+Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom

+A ruddier flame doth prey?"  I thus inquir'd.

+

+"If thou be willing," he replied, "that I

+Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls,

+He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs."

+

+I then: "As pleases thee to me is best.

+Thou art my lord; and know'st that ne'er I quit

+Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou."

+Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn'd,

+And on our left descended to the depth,

+A narrow strait and perforated close.

+Nor from his side my leader set me down,

+Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb

+Quiv'ring express'd his pang.  "Whoe'er thou art,

+Sad spirit! thus revers'd, and as a stake

+Driv'n in the soil!"  I in these words began,

+"If thou be able, utter forth thy voice."

+

+There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive

+A wretch for murder doom'd, who e'en when fix'd,

+Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays.

+

+He shouted: "Ha! already standest there?

+Already standest there, O Boniface!

+By many a year the writing play'd me false.

+So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth,

+For which thou fearedst not in guile to take

+The lovely lady, and then mangle her?"

+

+I felt as those who, piercing not the drift

+Of answer made them, stand as if expos'd

+In mockery, nor know what to reply,

+When Virgil thus admonish'd: "Tell him quick,

+I am not he, not he, whom thou believ'st."

+

+And I, as was enjoin'd me, straight replied.

+

+That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet,

+And sighing next in woeful accent spake:

+"What then of me requirest?  If to know

+So much imports thee, who I am, that thou

+Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn

+That in the mighty mantle I was rob'd,

+And of a she-bear was indeed the son,

+So eager to advance my whelps, that there

+My having in my purse above I stow'd,

+And here myself.  Under my head are dragg'd

+The rest, my predecessors in the guilt

+Of simony.  Stretch'd at their length they lie

+Along an opening in the rock.  'Midst them

+I also low shall fall, soon as he comes,

+For whom I took thee, when so hastily

+I question'd.  But already longer time

+Hath pass'd, since my souls kindled, and I thus

+Upturn'd have stood, than is his doom to stand

+Planted with fiery feet.  For after him,

+One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive,

+From forth the west, a shepherd without law,

+Fated to cover both his form and mine.

+He a new Jason shall be call'd, of whom

+In Maccabees we read; and favour such

+As to that priest his king indulgent show'd,

+Shall be of France's monarch shown to him."

+

+I know not if I here too far presum'd,

+But in this strain I answer'd: "Tell me now,

+What treasures from St. Peter at the first

+Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys

+Into his charge?  Surely he ask'd no more

+But, Follow me!  Nor Peter nor the rest

+Or gold or silver of Matthias took,

+When lots were cast upon the forfeit place

+Of the condemned soul.  Abide thou then;

+Thy punishment of right is merited:

+And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin,

+Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir'd.

+If reverence of the keys restrain'd me not,

+Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet

+Severer speech might use.  Your avarice

+O'ercasts the world with mourning, under foot

+Treading the good, and raising bad men up.

+Of shepherds, like to you, th' Evangelist

+Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves,

+With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld,

+She who with seven heads tower'd at her birth,

+And from ten horns her proof of glory drew,

+Long as her spouse in virtue took delight.

+Of gold and silver ye have made your god,

+Diff'ring wherein from the idolater,

+But he that worships one, a hundred ye?

+Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth,

+Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower,

+Which the first wealthy Father gain'd from thee!"

+

+Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath

+Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang

+Spinning on either sole.  I do believe

+My teacher well was pleas'd, with so compos'd

+A lip, he listen'd ever to the sound

+Of the true words I utter'd.  In both arms

+He caught, and to his bosom lifting me

+Upward retrac'd the way of his descent.

+

+Nor weary of his weight he press'd me close,

+Till to the summit of the rock we came,

+Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier.

+His cherish'd burden there gently he plac'd

+Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path

+Not easy for the clamb'ring goat to mount.

+

+Thence to my view another vale appear'd

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XX

+

+AND now the verse proceeds to torments new,

+Fit argument of this the twentieth strain

+Of the first song, whose awful theme records

+The spirits whelm'd in woe.  Earnest I look'd

+Into the depth, that open'd to my view,

+Moisten'd with tears of anguish, and beheld

+A tribe, that came along the hollow vale,

+In silence weeping: such their step as walk

+Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth.

+

+As on them more direct mine eye descends,

+Each wondrously seem'd to be revers'd

+At the neck-bone, so that the countenance

+Was from the reins averted: and because

+None might before him look, they were compell'd

+To' advance with backward gait.  Thus one perhaps

+Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos'd,

+But I ne'er saw it nor believe it so.

+

+Now, reader! think within thyself, so God

+Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long

+Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld

+Near me our form distorted in such guise,

+That on the hinder parts fall'n from the face

+The tears down-streaming roll'd.  Against a rock

+I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim'd:

+"What, and art thou too witless as the rest?

+Here pity most doth show herself alive,

+When she is dead.  What guilt exceedeth his,

+Who with Heaven's judgment in his passion strives?

+Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man,

+Before whose eyes earth gap'd in Thebes, when all

+Cried out, 'Amphiaraus, whither rushest?

+'Why leavest thou the war?'  He not the less

+Fell ruining far as to Minos down,

+Whose grapple none eludes.  Lo! how he makes

+The breast his shoulders, and who once too far

+Before him wish'd to see, now backward looks,

+And treads reverse his path.  Tiresias note,

+Who semblance chang'd, when woman he became

+Of male, through every limb transform'd, and then

+Once more behov'd him with his rod to strike

+The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes,

+That mark'd the better sex, might shoot again.

+

+"Aruns, with more his belly facing, comes.

+On Luni's mountains 'midst the marbles white,

+Where delves Carrara's hind, who wons beneath,

+A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars

+And main-sea wide in boundless view he held.

+

+"The next, whose loosen'd tresses overspread

+Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair

+On that side grows) was Manto, she who search'd

+Through many regions, and at length her seat

+Fix'd in my native land, whence a short space

+My words detain thy audience.  When her sire

+From life departed, and in servitude

+The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn'd,

+Long time she went a wand'rer through the world.

+Aloft in Italy's delightful land

+A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp,

+That o'er the Tyrol locks Germania in,

+Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills,

+Methinks, and more, water between the vale

+Camonica and Garda and the height

+Of Apennine remote.  There is a spot

+At midway of that lake, where he who bears

+Of Trento's flock the past'ral staff, with him

+Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each

+Passing that way his benediction give.

+A garrison of goodly site and strong

+Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos'd

+The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore

+More slope each way descends.  There, whatsoev'er

+Benacus' bosom holds not, tumbling o'er

+Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath

+Through the green pastures.  Soon as in his course

+The steam makes head, Benacus then no more

+They call the name, but Mincius, till at last

+Reaching Governo into Po he falls.

+Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat

+It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh

+It covers, pestilent in summer oft.

+Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw

+'Midst of the fen a territory waste

+And naked of inhabitants.  To shun

+All human converse, here she with her slaves

+Plying her arts remain'd, and liv'd, and left

+Her body tenantless.  Thenceforth the tribes,

+Who round were scatter'd, gath'ring to that place

+Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos'd

+On all parts by the fen.  On those dead bones

+They rear'd themselves a city, for her sake,

+Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot,

+Nor ask'd another omen for the name,

+Wherein more numerous the people dwelt,

+Ere Casalodi's madness by deceit

+Was wrong'd of Pinamonte.  If thou hear

+Henceforth another origin assign'd

+Of that my country, I forewarn thee now,

+That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth."

+

+I answer'd: "Teacher, I conclude thy words

+So certain, that all else shall be to me

+As embers lacking life.  But now of these,

+Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see

+Any that merit more especial note.

+For thereon is my mind alone intent."

+

+He straight replied: "That spirit, from whose cheek

+The beard sweeps o'er his shoulders brown, what time

+Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce

+The cradles were supplied, the seer was he

+In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign

+When first to cut the cable.  Him they nam'd

+Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain,

+In which majestic measure well thou know'st,

+Who know'st it all.  That other, round the loins

+So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot,

+Practis'd in ev'ry slight of magic wile.

+

+"Guido Bonatti see:  Asdente mark,

+Who now were willing, he had tended still

+The thread and cordwain; and too late repents.

+

+"See next the wretches, who the needle left,

+The shuttle and the spindle, and became

+Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought

+With images and herbs.  But onward now:

+For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine

+On either hemisphere, touching the wave

+Beneath the towers of Seville.  Yesternight

+The moon was round.  Thou mayst remember well:

+For she good service did thee in the gloom

+Of the deep wood."  This said, both onward mov'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXI

+

+THUS we from bridge to bridge, with other talk,

+The which my drama cares not to rehearse,

+Pass'd on; and to the summit reaching, stood

+To view another gap, within the round

+Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs.

+

+Marvelous darkness shadow'd o'er the place.

+

+In the Venetians' arsenal as boils

+Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear

+Their unsound vessels; for th' inclement time

+Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while

+His bark one builds anew, another stops

+The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage;

+One hammers at the prow, one at the poop;

+This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls,

+The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent

+So not by force of fire but art divine

+Boil'd here a glutinous thick mass, that round

+Lim'd all the shore beneath.  I that beheld,

+But therein nought distinguish'd, save the surge,

+Rais'd by the boiling, in one mighty swell

+Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall.  While there

+I fix'd my ken below, "Mark! mark!" my guide

+Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place,

+Wherein I stood.  I turn'd myself as one,

+Impatient to behold that which beheld

+He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans,

+That he his flight delays not for the view.

+Behind me I discern'd a devil black,

+That running, up advanc'd along the rock.

+Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake!

+In act how bitter did he seem, with wings

+Buoyant outstretch'd and feet of nimblest tread!

+His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp

+Was with a sinner charg'd; by either haunch

+He held him, the foot's sinew griping fast.

+

+"Ye of our bridge!" he cried, "keen-talon'd fiends!

+Lo! one of Santa Zita's elders!  Him

+Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more.

+That land hath store of such.  All men are there,

+Except Bonturo, barterers: of 'no'

+For lucre there an 'aye' is quickly made."

+

+Him dashing down, o'er the rough rock he turn'd,

+Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos'd

+Sped with like eager haste.  That other sank

+And forthwith writing to the surface rose.

+But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge,

+Cried "Here the hallow'd visage saves not: here

+Is other swimming than in Serchio's wave.

+Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not,

+Take heed thou mount not o'er the pitch."  This said,

+They grappled him with more than hundred hooks,

+And shouted: "Cover'd thou must sport thee here;

+So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch."

+

+E'en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms,

+To thrust the flesh into the caldron down

+With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top.

+

+Me then my guide bespake: "Lest they descry,

+That thou art here, behind a craggy rock

+Bend low and screen thee; and whate'er of force

+Be offer'd me, or insult, fear thou not:

+For I am well advis'd, who have been erst

+In the like fray."  Beyond the bridge's head

+Therewith he pass'd, and reaching the sixth pier,

+Behov'd him then a forehead terror-proof.

+

+With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth

+Upon the poor man's back, who suddenly

+From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush'd

+Those from beneath the arch, and against him

+Their weapons all they pointed.  He aloud:

+"Be none of you outrageous: ere your time

+Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one,

+

+"Who having heard my words, decide he then

+If he shall tear these limbs."  They shouted loud,

+"Go, Malacoda!"  Whereat one advanc'd,

+The others standing firm, and as he came,

+"What may this turn avail him?" he exclaim'd.

+

+"Believ'st thou, Malacoda!  I had come

+Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,"

+My teacher answered, "without will divine

+And destiny propitious?  Pass we then

+For so Heaven's pleasure is, that I should lead

+Another through this savage wilderness."

+

+Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop

+The instrument of torture at his feet,

+And to the rest exclaim'd: "We have no power

+To strike him."  Then to me my guide: "O thou!

+Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit

+Low crouching, safely now to me return."

+

+I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends

+Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz'd

+Lest they should break the compact they had made.

+Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw

+Th' infantry dreading, lest his covenant

+The foe should break; so close he hemm'd them round.

+

+I to my leader's side adher'd, mine eyes

+With fixt and motionless observance bent

+On their unkindly visage.  They their hooks

+Protruding, one the other thus bespake:

+"Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?"  To whom

+Was answer'd: "Even so; nor miss thy aim."

+

+But he, who was in conf'rence with my guide,

+Turn'd rapid round, and thus the demon spake:

+"Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!"  Then to us

+He added: "Further footing to your step

+This rock affords not, shiver'd to the base

+Of the sixth arch.  But would you still proceed,

+Up by this cavern go: not distant far,

+Another rock will yield you passage safe.

+Yesterday, later by five hours than now,

+Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill'd

+The circuit of their course, since here the way

+Was broken.  Thitherward I straight dispatch

+Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy

+If any on the surface bask.  With them

+Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell.

+Come Alichino forth," with that he cried,

+"And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou!

+The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead.

+With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste,

+Fang'd Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce,

+And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant.

+Search ye around the bubbling tar.  For these,

+In safety lead them, where the other crag

+Uninterrupted traverses the dens."

+

+I then: "O master! what a sight is there!

+Ah! without escort, journey we alone,

+Which, if thou know the way, I covet not.

+Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark

+How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl

+Threatens us present tortures?"  He replied:

+"I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will,

+Gnarl on: 't is but in token of their spite

+Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep'd."

+

+To leftward o'er the pier they turn'd; but each

+Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue,

+Toward their leader for a signal looking,

+Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXII

+

+IT hath been heretofore my chance to see

+Horsemen with martial order shifting camp,

+To onset sallying, or in muster rang'd,

+Or in retreat sometimes outstretch'd for flight;

+Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers

+Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,

+And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts,

+Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,

+Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,

+And with inventions multiform, our own,

+Or introduc'd from foreign land; but ne'er

+To such a strange recorder I beheld,

+In evolution moving, horse nor foot,

+Nor ship, that tack'd by sign from land or star.

+

+With the ten demons on our way we went;

+Ah fearful company! but in the church

+With saints, with gluttons at the tavern's mess.

+

+Still earnest on the pitch I gaz'd, to mark

+All things whate'er the chasm contain'd, and those

+Who burn'd within.  As dolphins, that, in sign

+To mariners, heave high their arched backs,

+That thence forewarn'd they may advise to save

+Their threaten'd vessels; so, at intervals,

+To ease the pain his back some sinner show'd,

+Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance.

+

+E'en as the frogs, that of a wat'ry moat

+Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out,

+Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed,

+Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon

+As Barbariccia was at hand, so they

+Drew back under the wave.  I saw, and yet

+My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus,

+As it befalls that oft one frog remains,

+While the next springs away: and Graffiacan,

+Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz'd

+His clotted locks, and dragg'd him sprawling up,

+That he appear'd to me an otter.  Each

+Already by their names I knew, so well

+When they were chosen, I observ'd, and mark'd

+How one the other call'd. "O Rubicant!

+See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,"

+Shouted together all the cursed crew.

+

+Then I: "Inform thee, master! if thou may,

+What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand

+His foes have laid."  My leader to his side

+Approach'd, and whence he came inquir'd, to whom

+Was answer'd thus: "Born in Navarre's domain

+My mother plac'd me in a lord's retinue,

+For she had borne me to a losel vile,

+A spendthrift of his substance and himself.

+The good king Thibault after that I serv'd,

+To peculating here my thoughts were turn'd,

+Whereof I give account in this dire heat."

+

+Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk

+Issued on either side, as from a boar,

+Ript him with one of these.  'Twixt evil claws

+The mouse had fall'n: but Barbariccia cried,

+Seizing him with both arms: "Stand thou apart,

+While I do fix him on my prong transpierc'd."

+Then added, turning to my guide his face,

+"Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,

+Ere he again be rent."  My leader thus:

+"Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;

+Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land

+Under the tar?"--"I parted," he replied,

+"But now from one, who sojourn'd not far thence;

+So were I under shelter now with him!

+Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more."--.

+

+"Too long we suffer," Libicocco cried,

+Then, darting forth a prong, seiz'd on his arm,

+And mangled bore away the sinewy part.

+Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath

+Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief,

+Turning on all sides round, with threat'ning brow

+Restrain'd them.  When their strife a little ceas'd,

+Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,

+My teacher thus without delay inquir'd:

+"Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap

+Parting, as thou has told, thou cam'st to shore?"--

+

+"It was the friar Gomita," he rejoin'd,

+"He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,

+Who had his master's enemies in hand,

+And us'd them so that they commend him well.

+Money he took, and them at large dismiss'd.

+So he reports: and in each other charge

+Committed to his keeping, play'd the part

+Of barterer to the height:  with him doth herd

+The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche.

+Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue

+Is never weary.  Out! alas! behold

+That other, how he grins!  More would I say,

+But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore."

+

+Their captain then to Farfarello turning,

+Who roll'd his moony eyes in act to strike,

+Rebuk'd him thus: "Off! cursed bird!  Avaunt!"--

+

+"If ye desire to see or hear," he thus

+Quaking with dread resum'd, "or Tuscan spirits

+Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear.

+Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,

+So that no vengeance they may fear from them,

+And I, remaining in this self-same place,

+Will for myself but one, make sev'n appear,

+When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so

+Our custom is to call each other up."

+

+Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn'd,

+Then wagg'd the head and spake: "Hear his device,

+Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down."

+

+Whereto he thus, who fail'd not in rich store

+Of nice-wove toils; "Mischief forsooth extreme,

+Meant only to procure myself more woe!"

+

+No longer Alichino then refrain'd,

+But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:

+"If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot

+Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat

+My plumes.  Quit we the vantage ground, and let

+The bank be as a shield, that we may see

+If singly thou prevail against us all."

+

+Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear!

+

+They each one turn'd his eyes to the' other shore,

+He first, who was the hardest to persuade.

+The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,

+Planted his feet on land, and at one leap

+Escaping disappointed their resolve.

+

+Them quick resentment stung, but him the most,

+Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit

+He therefore sped, exclaiming; "Thou art caught."

+

+But little it avail'd: terror outstripp'd

+His following flight: the other plung'd beneath,

+And he with upward pinion rais'd his breast:

+E'en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives

+The falcon near, dives instant down, while he

+Enrag'd and spent retires.  That mockery

+In Calcabrina fury stirr'd, who flew

+After him, with desire of strife inflam'd;

+And, for the barterer had 'scap'd, so turn'd

+His talons on his comrade. O'er the dyke

+In grapple close they join'd; but the' other prov'd

+A goshawk able to rend well his foe;

+

+And in the boiling lake both fell.  The heat

+Was umpire soon between them, but in vain

+To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued

+Their pennons.  Barbariccia, as the rest,

+That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch'd

+From the' other coast, with all their weapons arm'd.

+They, to their post on each side speedily

+Descending, stretch'd their hooks toward the fiends,

+Who flounder'd, inly burning from their scars:

+And we departing left them to that broil.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIII

+

+IN silence and in solitude we went,

+One first, the other following his steps,

+As minor friars journeying on their road.

+

+The present fray had turn'd my thoughts to muse

+Upon old Aesop's fable, where he told

+What fate unto the mouse and frog befell.

+For language hath not sounds more like in sense,

+Than are these chances, if the origin

+And end of each be heedfully compar'd.

+And as one thought bursts from another forth,

+So afterward from that another sprang,

+Which added doubly to my former fear.

+For thus I reason'd: "These through us have been

+So foil'd, with loss and mock'ry so complete,

+As needs must sting them sore.  If anger then

+Be to their evil will conjoin'd, more fell

+They shall pursue us, than the savage hound

+Snatches the leveret, panting 'twixt his jaws."

+

+Already I perceiv'd my hair stand all

+On end with terror, and look'd eager back.

+

+"Teacher," I thus began, "if speedily

+Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread

+Those evil talons.  Even now behind

+They urge us: quick imagination works

+So forcibly, that I already feel them."

+

+He answer'd: "Were I form'd of leaded glass,

+I should not sooner draw unto myself

+Thy outward image, than I now imprint

+That from within.  This moment came thy thoughts

+Presented before mine, with similar act

+And count'nance similar, so that from both

+I one design have fram'd.  If the right coast

+Incline so much, that we may thence descend

+Into the other chasm, we shall escape

+Secure from this imagined pursuit."

+

+He had not spoke his purpose to the end,

+When I from far beheld them with spread wings

+Approach to take us.  Suddenly my guide

+Caught me, ev'n as a mother that from sleep

+Is by the noise arous'd, and near her sees

+The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe

+And flies ne'er pausing, careful more of him

+Than of herself, that but a single vest

+Clings round her limbs.  Down from the jutting beach

+Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock,

+Which closes on one part the other chasm.

+

+Never ran water with such hurrying pace

+Adown the tube to turn a landmill's wheel,

+When nearest it approaches to the spokes,

+As then along that edge my master ran,

+Carrying me in his bosom, as a child,

+Not a companion.  Scarcely had his feet

+Reach'd to the lowest of the bed beneath,

+

+When over us the steep they reach'd; but fear

+In him was none; for that high Providence,

+Which plac'd them ministers of the fifth foss,

+Power of departing thence took from them all.

+

+There in the depth we saw a painted tribe,

+Who pac'd with tardy steps around, and wept,

+Faint in appearance and o'ercome with toil.

+Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down

+Before their eyes, in fashion like to those

+Worn by the monks in Cologne.  Their outside

+Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view,

+But leaden all within, and of such weight,

+That Frederick's compar'd to these were straw.

+Oh, everlasting wearisome attire!

+

+We yet once more with them together turn'd

+To leftward, on their dismal moan intent.

+But by the weight oppress'd, so slowly came

+The fainting people, that our company

+Was chang'd at every movement of the step.

+

+Whence I my guide address'd: "See that thou find

+Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known,

+And to that end look round thee as thou go'st."

+

+Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice,

+Cried after us aloud: "Hold in your feet,

+Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air.

+Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish."

+

+Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake:

+"Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed."

+

+I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look

+Impatient eagerness of mind was mark'd

+To overtake me; but the load they bare

+And narrow path retarded their approach.

+

+Soon as arriv'd, they with an eye askance

+Perus'd me, but spake not: then turning each

+To other thus conferring said: "This one

+Seems, by the action of his throat, alive.

+And, be they dead, what privilege allows

+They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?"

+

+Then thus to me: "Tuscan, who visitest

+The college of the mourning hypocrites,

+Disdain not to instruct us who thou art."

+

+"By Arno's pleasant stream," I thus replied,

+"In the great city I was bred and grew,

+And wear the body I have ever worn.

+but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief,

+As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks?

+What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?"

+"Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,"

+One of them answer'd, "are so leaden gross,

+That with their weight they make the balances

+To crack beneath them.  Joyous friars we were,

+Bologna's natives, Catalano I,

+He Loderingo nam'd, and by thy land

+Together taken, as men used to take

+A single and indifferent arbiter,

+To reconcile their strifes.  How there we sped,

+Gardingo's vicinage can best declare."

+

+"O friars!"  I began, "your miseries--"

+But there brake off, for one had caught my eye,

+Fix'd to a cross with three stakes on the ground:

+He, when he saw me, writh'd himself, throughout

+Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard.

+And Catalano, who thereof was 'ware,

+

+Thus spake: "That pierced spirit, whom intent

+Thou view'st, was he who gave the Pharisees

+Counsel, that it were fitting for one man

+To suffer for the people.  He doth lie

+Transverse; nor any passes, but him first

+Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs.

+In straits like this along the foss are plac'd

+The father of his consort, and the rest

+Partakers in that council, seed of ill

+And sorrow to the Jews."  I noted then,

+How Virgil gaz'd with wonder upon him,

+Thus abjectly extended on the cross

+In banishment eternal.  To the friar

+He next his words address'd: "We pray ye tell,

+If so be lawful, whether on our right

+Lies any opening in the rock, whereby

+We both may issue hence, without constraint

+On the dark angels, that compell'd they come

+To lead us from this depth."  He thus replied:

+"Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock

+From the next circle moving, which o'ersteps

+Each vale of horror, save that here his cope

+Is shatter'd.  By the ruin ye may mount:

+For on the side it slants, and most the height

+Rises below."  With head bent down awhile

+My leader stood, then spake: "He warn'd us ill,

+Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook."

+

+To whom the friar: At Bologna erst

+"I many vices of the devil heard,

+Among the rest was said, 'He is a liar,

+And the father of lies!'"  When he had spoke,

+My leader with large strides proceeded on,

+Somewhat disturb'd with anger in his look.

+

+I therefore left the spirits heavy laden,

+And following, his beloved footsteps mark'd.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIV

+

+IN the year's early nonage, when the sun

+Tempers his tresses in Aquarius' urn,

+And now towards equal day the nights recede,

+When as the rime upon the earth puts on

+Her dazzling sister's image, but not long

+Her milder sway endures, then riseth up

+The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,

+And looking out beholds the plain around

+All whiten'd, whence impatiently he smites

+His thighs, and to his hut returning in,

+There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,

+As a discomfited and helpless man;

+Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope

+Spring in his bosom, finding e'en thus soon

+The world hath chang'd its count'nance, grasps his crook,

+And forth to pasture drives his little flock:

+So me my guide dishearten'd when I saw

+His troubled forehead, and so speedily

+That ill was cur'd; for at the fallen bridge

+Arriving, towards me with a look as sweet,

+He turn'd him back, as that I first beheld

+At the steep mountain's foot.  Regarding well

+The ruin, and some counsel first maintain'd

+With his own thought, he open'd wide his arm

+And took me up.  As one, who, while he works,

+Computes his labour's issue, that he seems

+Still to foresee the' effect, so lifting me

+Up to the summit of one peak, he fix'd

+His eye upon another.  "Grapple that,"

+Said he, "but first make proof, if it be such

+As will sustain thee."  For one capp'd with lead

+This were no journey.  Scarcely he, though light,

+And I, though onward push'd from crag to crag,

+Could mount.  And if the precinct of this coast

+Were not less ample than the last, for him

+I know not, but my strength had surely fail'd.

+But Malebolge all toward the mouth

+Inclining of the nethermost abyss,

+The site of every valley hence requires,

+That one side upward slope, the other fall.

+

+At length the point of our descent we reach'd

+From the last flag: soon as to that arriv'd,

+So was the breath exhausted from my lungs,

+I could no further, but did seat me there.

+

+"Now needs thy best of man;" so spake my guide:

+"For not on downy plumes, nor under shade

+Of canopy reposing, fame is won,

+Without which whosoe'er consumes his days

+Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth,

+As smoke in air or foam upon the wave.

+Thou therefore rise: vanish thy weariness

+By the mind's effort, in each struggle form'd

+To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight

+Of her corporeal frame to crush her down.

+A longer ladder yet remains to scale.

+From these to have escap'd sufficeth not.

+If well thou note me, profit by my words."

+

+I straightway rose, and show'd myself less spent

+Than I in truth did feel me.  "On," I cried,

+"For I am stout and fearless."  Up the rock

+Our way we held, more rugged than before,

+Narrower and steeper far to climb.  From talk

+I ceas'd not, as we journey'd, so to seem

+Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss

+Did issue forth, for utt'rance suited ill.

+Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,

+What were the words I knew not, but who spake

+Seem'd mov'd in anger.  Down I stoop'd to look,

+But my quick eye might reach not to the depth

+For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:

+"To the next circle, Teacher, bend thy steps,

+And from the wall dismount we; for as hence

+I hear and understand not, so I see

+Beneath, and naught discern."--"I answer not,"

+Said he, "but by the deed.  To fair request

+Silent performance maketh best return."

+

+We from the bridge's head descended, where

+To the eighth mound it joins, and then the chasm

+Opening to view, I saw a crowd within

+Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape

+And hideous, that remembrance in my veins

+Yet shrinks the vital current.  Of her sands

+Let Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus,

+Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,

+Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire

+Or in such numbers swarming ne'er she shew'd,

+Not with all Ethiopia, and whate'er

+Above the Erythraean sea is spawn'd.

+

+Amid this dread exuberance of woe

+Ran naked spirits wing'd with horrid fear,

+Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide,

+Or heliotrope to charm them out of view.

+With serpents were their hands behind them bound,

+Which through their reins infix'd the tail and head

+Twisted in folds before.  And lo! on one

+Near to our side, darted an adder up,

+And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied,

+Transpierc'd him.  Far more quickly than e'er pen

+Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn'd, and chang'd

+To ashes, all pour'd out upon the earth.

+When there dissolv'd he lay, the dust again

+Uproll'd spontaneous, and the self-same form

+Instant resumed.  So mighty sages tell,

+The' Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years

+Have well nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith

+Renascent.  Blade nor herb throughout his life

+He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone

+And odorous amomum: swaths of nard

+And myrrh his funeral shroud.  As one that falls,

+He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg'd

+To earth, or through obstruction fettering up

+In chains invisible the powers of man,

+Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around,

+Bewilder'd with the monstrous agony

+He hath endur'd, and wildly staring sighs;

+So stood aghast the sinner when he rose.

+

+Oh! how severe God's judgment, that deals out

+Such blows in stormy vengeance!  Who he was

+My teacher next inquir'd, and thus in few

+He answer'd: "Vanni Fucci am I call'd,

+Not long since rained down from Tuscany

+To this dire gullet.  Me the beastial life

+And not the human pleas'd, mule that I was,

+Who in Pistoia found my worthy den."

+

+I then to Virgil: "Bid him stir not hence,

+And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once

+A man I knew him choleric and bloody."

+

+The sinner heard and feign'd not, but towards me

+His mind directing and his face, wherein

+Was dismal shame depictur'd, thus he spake:

+"It grieves me more to have been caught by thee

+In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than

+When I was taken from the other life.

+I have no power permitted to deny

+What thou inquirest.  I am doom'd thus low

+To dwell, for that the sacristy by me

+Was rifled of its goodly ornaments,

+And with the guilt another falsely charged.

+But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus,

+So as thou e'er shalt 'scape this darksome realm

+Open thine ears and hear what I forebode.

+Reft of the Neri first Pistoia pines,

+Then Florence changeth citizens and laws.

+From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars,

+A vapour rises, wrapt in turbid mists,

+And sharp and eager driveth on the storm

+With arrowy hurtling o'er Piceno's field,

+Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike

+Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground.

+This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXV

+

+WHEN he had spoke, the sinner rais'd his hands

+Pointed in mockery, and cried: "Take them, God!

+I level them at thee!"  From that day forth

+The serpents were my friends; for round his neck

+One of then rolling twisted, as it said,

+"Be silent, tongue!"  Another to his arms

+Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself

+So close, it took from them the power to move.

+

+Pistoia!  Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt

+To turn thee into ashes, cumb'ring earth

+No longer, since in evil act so far

+Thou hast outdone thy seed?  I did not mark,

+Through all the gloomy circles of the' abyss,

+Spirit, that swell'd so proudly 'gainst his God,

+Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes.  He fled,

+Nor utter'd more; and after him there came

+A centaur full of fury, shouting, "Where

+Where is the caitiff?"  On Maremma's marsh

+Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch

+They swarm'd, to where the human face begins.

+Behind his head upon the shoulders lay,

+With open wings, a dragon breathing fire

+On whomsoe'er he met.  To me my guide:

+"Cacus is this, who underneath the rock

+Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood.

+He, from his brethren parted, here must tread

+A different journey, for his fraudful theft

+Of the great herd, that near him stall'd; whence found

+His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace

+Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on

+A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt."

+

+While yet he spake, the centaur sped away:

+And under us three spirits came, of whom

+Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim'd;

+"Say who are ye?"  We then brake off discourse,

+Intent on these alone.  I knew them not;

+But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one

+Had need to name another.  "Where," said he,

+"Doth Cianfa lurk?"  I, for a sign my guide

+Should stand attentive, plac'd against my lips

+The finger lifted.  If, O reader! now

+Thou be not apt to credit what I tell,

+No marvel; for myself do scarce allow

+The witness of mine eyes.  But as I looked

+Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet

+Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him:

+His midmost grasp'd the belly, a forefoot

+Seiz'd on each arm (while deep in either cheek

+He flesh'd his fangs); the hinder on the thighs

+Were spread, 'twixt which the tail inserted curl'd

+Upon the reins behind.  Ivy ne'er clasp'd

+A dodder'd oak, as round the other's limbs

+The hideous monster intertwin'd his own.

+Then, as they both had been of burning wax,

+Each melted into other, mingling hues,

+That which was either now was seen no more.

+Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns,

+A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black,

+And the clean white expires.  The other two

+Look'd on exclaiming: "Ah, how dost thou change,

+Agnello!  See!  Thou art nor double now,

+

+"Nor only one."  The two heads now became

+One, and two figures blended in one form

+Appear'd, where both were lost.  Of the four lengths

+Two arms were made: the belly and the chest

+The thighs and legs into such members chang'd,

+As never eye hath seen.  Of former shape

+All trace was vanish'd.  Two yet neither seem'd

+That image miscreate, and so pass'd on

+With tardy steps.  As underneath the scourge

+Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields,

+Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems

+A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road,

+So toward th' entrails of the other two

+Approaching seem'd, an adder all on fire,

+As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart.

+In that part, whence our life is nourish'd first,

+One he transpierc'd; then down before him fell

+Stretch'd out.  The pierced spirit look'd on him

+But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn'd,

+As if by sleep or fev'rous fit assail'd.

+He ey'd the serpent, and the serpent him.

+One from the wound, the other from the mouth

+Breath'd a thick smoke, whose vap'ry columns join'd.

+

+Lucan in mute attention now may hear,

+Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell,

+Nor shine, Nasidius!  Ovid now be mute.

+What if in warbling fiction he record

+Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake

+Him chang'd, and her into a fountain clear,

+I envy not; for never face to face

+Two natures thus transmuted did he sing,

+Wherein both shapes were ready to assume

+The other's substance.  They in mutual guise

+So answer'd, that the serpent split his train

+Divided to a fork, and the pierc'd spirit

+Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs

+Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon

+Was visible: the tail disparted took

+The figure which the spirit lost, its skin

+Soft'ning, his indurated to a rind.

+The shoulders next I mark'd, that ent'ring join'd

+The monster's arm-pits, whose two shorter feet

+So lengthen'd, as the other's dwindling shrunk.

+The feet behind then twisting up became

+That part that man conceals, which in the wretch

+Was cleft in twain.  While both the shadowy smoke

+With a new colour veils, and generates

+Th' excrescent pile on one, peeling it off

+From th' other body, lo! upon his feet

+One upright rose, and prone the other fell.

+Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps

+Were shifted, though each feature chang'd beneath.

+Of him who stood erect, the mounting face

+Retreated towards the temples, and what there

+Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears

+From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg'd,

+Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell'd

+Into due size protuberant the lips.

+He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends

+His sharpen'd visage, and draws down the ears

+Into the head, as doth the slug his horns.

+His tongue continuous before and apt

+For utt'rance, severs; and the other's fork

+Closing unites.  That done the smoke was laid.

+The soul, transform'd into the brute, glides off,

+Hissing along the vale, and after him

+The other talking sputters; but soon turn'd

+His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few

+Thus to another spake: "Along this path

+Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!"

+

+So saw I fluctuate in successive change

+Th' unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:

+And here if aught my tongue have swerv'd, events

+So strange may be its warrant.  O'er mine eyes

+Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze.

+

+Yet 'scap'd they not so covertly, but well

+I mark'd Sciancato: he alone it was

+Of the three first that came, who chang'd not: thou,

+The other's fate, Gaville, still dost rue.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXVI

+

+FLORENCE exult! for thou so mightily

+Hast thriven, that o'er land and sea thy wings

+Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell!

+Among the plund'rers such the three I found

+Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son,

+And no proud honour to thyself redounds.

+

+But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn,

+Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long

+Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest)

+Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance

+Were in good time, if it befell thee now.

+Would so it were, since it must needs befall!

+For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more.

+

+We from the depth departed; and my guide

+Remounting scal'd the flinty steps, which late

+We downward trac'd, and drew me up the steep.

+Pursuing thus our solitary way

+Among the crags and splinters of the rock,

+Sped not our feet without the help of hands.

+

+Then sorrow seiz'd me, which e'en now revives,

+As my thought turns again to what I saw,

+And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb

+The powers of nature in me, lest they run

+Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good

+My gentle star, or something better gave me,

+I envy not myself the precious boon.

+

+As in that season, when the sun least veils

+His face that lightens all, what time the fly

+Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then

+Upon some cliff reclin'd, beneath him sees

+Fire-flies innumerous spangling o'er the vale,

+Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies:

+With flames so numberless throughout its space

+Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth

+Was to my view expos'd. As he, whose wrongs

+The bears aveng'd, at its departure saw

+Elijah's chariot, when the steeds erect

+Rais'd their steep flight for heav'n; his eyes meanwhile,

+Straining pursu'd them, till the flame alone

+Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn'd;

+E'en thus along the gulf moves every flame,

+A sinner so enfolded close in each,

+That none exhibits token of the theft.

+

+Upon the bridge I forward bent to look,

+And grasp'd a flinty mass, or else had fall'n,

+Though push'd not from the height.  The guide, who mark'd

+How I did gaze attentive, thus began:

+

+"Within these ardours are the spirits, each

+Swath'd in confining fire."--"Master, thy word,"

+I answer'd, "hath assur'd me; yet I deem'd

+Already of the truth, already wish'd

+To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes

+So parted at the summit, as it seem'd

+Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay

+The Theban brothers?"  He replied: "Within

+Ulysses there and Diomede endure

+Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now

+Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath.

+These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore

+The ambush of the horse, that open'd wide

+A portal for that goodly seed to pass,

+Which sow'd imperial Rome; nor less the guile

+Lament they, whence of her Achilles 'reft

+Deidamia yet in death complains.

+And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy

+Of her Palladium spoil'd."--"If they have power

+Of utt'rance from within these sparks," said I,

+"O master! think my prayer a thousand fold

+In repetition urg'd, that thou vouchsafe

+To pause, till here the horned flame arrive.

+See, how toward it with desire I bend."

+

+He thus: "Thy prayer is worthy of much praise,

+And I accept it therefore: but do thou

+Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine,

+For I divine thy wish: and they perchance,

+For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee."

+

+When there the flame had come, where time and place

+Seem'd fitting to my guide, he thus began:

+"O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire!

+If living I of you did merit aught,

+Whate'er the measure were of that desert,

+When in the world my lofty strain I pour'd,

+Move ye not on, till one of you unfold

+In what clime death o'ertook him self-destroy'd."

+

+Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn

+Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire

+That labours with the wind, then to and fro

+Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds,

+Threw out its voice, and spake: "When I escap'd

+From Circe, who beyond a circling year

+Had held me near Caieta, by her charms,

+Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam'd the shore,

+Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence

+Of my old father, nor return of love,

+That should have crown'd Penelope with joy,

+Could overcome in me the zeal I had

+T' explore the world, and search the ways of life,

+Man's evil and his virtue.  Forth I sail'd

+Into the deep illimitable main,

+With but one bark, and the small faithful band

+That yet cleav'd to me.  As Iberia far,

+Far as Morocco either shore I saw,

+And the Sardinian and each isle beside

+Which round that ocean bathes.  Tardy with age

+Were I and my companions, when we came

+To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain'd

+The bound'ries not to be o'erstepp'd by man.

+The walls of Seville to my right I left,

+On the' other hand already Ceuta past.

+

+"O brothers!"  I began, "who to the west

+Through perils without number now have reach'd,

+To this the short remaining watch, that yet

+Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof

+Of the unpeopled world, following the track

+Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang:

+Ye were not form'd to live the life of brutes

+But virtue to pursue and knowledge high.

+With these few words I sharpen'd for the voyage

+The mind of my associates, that I then

+Could scarcely have withheld them.  To the dawn

+Our poop we turn'd, and for the witless flight

+Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left.

+Each star of the' other pole night now beheld,

+And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor

+It rose not.  Five times re-illum'd, as oft

+Vanish'd the light from underneath the moon

+Since the deep way we enter'd, when from far

+Appear'd a mountain dim, loftiest methought

+Of all I e'er beheld.  Joy seiz'd us straight,

+But soon to mourning changed.  From the new land

+A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side

+Did strike the vessel.  Thrice it whirl'd her round

+With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up

+The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:

+And over us the booming billow clos'd."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XVII

+

+NOW upward rose the flame, and still'd its light

+To speak no more, and now pass'd on with leave

+From the mild poet gain'd, when following came

+Another, from whose top a sound confus'd,

+Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look.

+

+As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully

+His cries first echoed, who had shap'd its mould,

+Did so rebellow, with the voice of him

+Tormented, that the brazen monster seem'd

+Pierc'd through with pain; thus while no way they found

+Nor avenue immediate through the flame,

+Into its language turn'd the dismal words:

+But soon as they had won their passage forth,

+Up from the point, which vibrating obey'd

+Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard:

+"O thou! to whom I now direct my voice!

+That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase,

+

+"Depart thou, I solicit thee no more,

+Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive

+Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile,

+And with me parley: lo! it irks not me

+And yet I burn.  If but e'en now thou fall

+into this blind world, from that pleasant land

+Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt,

+Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell,

+Have peace or war.  For of the mountains there

+Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height,

+Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood."

+

+Leaning I listen'd yet with heedful ear,

+When, as he touch'd my side, the leader thus:

+"Speak thou: he is a Latian."  My reply

+Was ready, and I spake without delay:

+

+"O spirit! who art hidden here below!

+Never was thy Romagna without war

+In her proud tyrants' bosoms, nor is now:

+But open war there left I none.  The state,

+Ravenna hath maintain'd this many a year,

+Is steadfast.  There Polenta's eagle broods,

+And in his broad circumference of plume

+O'ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp

+The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long,

+And pil'd in bloody heap the host of France.

+

+"The' old mastiff of Verruchio and the young,

+That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make,

+Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs.

+

+"Lamone's city and Santerno's range

+Under the lion of the snowy lair.

+Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides,

+Or ever summer yields to winter's frost.

+And she, whose flank is wash'd of Savio's wave,

+As 'twixt the level and the steep she lies,

+Lives so 'twixt tyrant power and liberty.

+

+"Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou?

+Be not more hard than others.  In the world,

+So may thy name still rear its forehead high."

+

+Then roar'd awhile the fire, its sharpen'd point

+On either side wav'd, and thus breath'd at last:

+"If I did think, my answer were to one,

+Who ever could return unto the world,

+This flame should rest unshaken.  But since ne'er,

+If true be told me, any from this depth

+Has found his upward way, I answer thee,

+Nor fear lest infamy record the words.

+

+"A man of arms at first, I cloth'd me then

+In good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping so

+T' have made amends.  And certainly my hope

+Had fail'd not, but that he, whom curses light on,

+The' high priest again seduc'd me into sin.

+And how and wherefore listen while I tell.

+Long as this spirit mov'd the bones and pulp

+My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake

+The nature of the lion than the fox.

+All ways of winding subtlety I knew,

+And with such art conducted, that the sound

+Reach'd the world's limit.  Soon as to that part

+Of life I found me come, when each behoves

+To lower sails and gather in the lines;

+That which before had pleased me then I rued,

+And to repentance and confession turn'd;

+Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me!

+The chief of the new Pharisees meantime,

+Waging his warfare near the Lateran,

+Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes

+All Christians were, nor against Acre one

+Had fought, nor traffic'd in the Soldan's land),

+He his great charge nor sacred ministry

+In himself, rev'renc'd, nor in me that cord,

+Which us'd to mark with leanness whom it girded.

+As in Socrate, Constantine besought

+To cure his leprosy Sylvester's aid,

+So me to cure the fever of his pride

+This man besought: my counsel to that end

+He ask'd: and I was silent: for his words

+Seem'd drunken: but forthwith he thus resum'd:

+'From thy heart banish fear: of all offence

+I hitherto absolve thee.  In return,

+Teach me my purpose so to execute,

+That Penestrino cumber earth no more.

+Heav'n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut

+And open: and the keys are therefore twain,

+The which my predecessor meanly priz'd.'"

+

+Then, yielding to the forceful arguments,

+Of silence as more perilous I deem'd,

+And answer'd: "Father! since thou washest me

+Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall,

+Large promise with performance scant, be sure,

+Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat."

+

+"When I was number'd with the dead, then came

+Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark

+He met, who cried: 'Wrong me not; he is mine,

+And must below to join the wretched crew,

+For the deceitful counsel which he gave.

+E'er since I watch'd him, hov'ring at his hair,

+No power can the impenitent absolve;

+Nor to repent and will at once consist,

+By contradiction absolute forbid.'"

+Oh mis'ry! how I shook myself, when he

+Seiz'd me, and cried, "Thou haply thought'st me not

+A disputant in logic so exact."

+To Minos down he bore me, and the judge

+Twin'd eight times round his callous back the tail,

+Which biting with excess of rage, he spake:

+"This is a guilty soul, that in the fire

+Must vanish.  Hence perdition-doom'd I rove

+A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb."

+

+When he had thus fulfill'd his words, the flame

+In dolour parted, beating to and fro,

+And writhing its sharp horn.  We onward went,

+I and my leader, up along the rock,

+Far as another arch, that overhangs

+The foss, wherein the penalty is paid

+Of those, who load them with committed sin.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXVIII

+

+WHO, e'en in words unfetter'd, might at full

+Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw,

+Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue

+So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought

+Both impotent alike.  If in one band

+Collected, stood the people all, who e'er

+Pour'd on Apulia's happy soil their blood,

+Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war

+When of the rings the measur'd booty made

+A pile so high, as Rome's historian writes

+Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt

+The grinding force of Guiscard's Norman steel,

+And those the rest, whose bones are gather'd yet

+At Ceperano, there where treachery

+Branded th' Apulian name, or where beyond

+Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms

+The old Alardo conquer'd; and his limbs

+One were to show transpierc'd, another his

+Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this

+Were but a thing of nought, to the' hideous sight

+Of the ninth chasm.  A rundlet, that hath lost

+Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide,

+As one I mark'd, torn from the chin throughout

+Down to the hinder passage: 'twixt the legs

+Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay

+Open to view, and wretched ventricle,

+That turns th' englutted aliment to dross.

+

+Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze,

+He ey'd me, with his hands laid his breast bare,

+And cried; "Now mark how I do rip me! lo!

+

+"How is Mohammed mangled! before me

+Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face

+Cleft to the forelock; and the others all

+Whom here thou seest, while they liv'd, did sow

+Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent.

+A fiend is here behind, who with his sword

+Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again

+Each of this ream, when we have compast round

+The dismal way, for first our gashes close

+Ere we repass before him.  But say who

+Art thou, that standest musing on the rock,

+Haply so lingering to delay the pain

+Sentenc'd upon thy crimes?"--"Him death not yet,"

+My guide rejoin'd, "hath overta'en, nor sin

+Conducts to torment; but, that he may make

+Full trial of your state, I who am dead

+Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb,

+Conduct him.  Trust my words, for they are true."

+

+More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard,

+Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed,

+Forgetful of their pangs.  "Thou, who perchance

+Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou

+Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not

+Here soon to follow me, that with good store

+Of food he arm him, lest impris'ning snows

+Yield him a victim to Novara's power,

+No easy conquest else."  With foot uprais'd

+For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground

+Then fix'd it to depart.  Another shade,

+Pierc'd in the throat, his nostrils mutilate

+E'en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear

+Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood

+Gazing, before the rest advanc'd, and bar'd

+His wind-pipe, that without was all o'ersmear'd

+With crimson stain.  "O thou!" said he, "whom sin

+Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near

+Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft

+Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind

+Piero of Medicina, if again

+Returning, thou behold'st the pleasant land

+That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo;

+

+"And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts

+Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo,

+That if 't is giv'n us here to scan aright

+The future, they out of life's tenement

+Shall be cast forth, and whelm'd under the waves

+Near to Cattolica, through perfidy

+Of a fell tyrant.  'Twixt the Cyprian isle

+And Balearic, ne'er hath Neptune seen

+An injury so foul, by pirates done

+Or Argive crew of old.  That one-ey'd traitor

+(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain

+His eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bring

+To conf'rence with him, then so shape his end,

+That they shall need not 'gainst Focara's wind

+Offer up vow nor pray'r."  I answering thus:

+

+"Declare, as thou dost wish that I above

+May carry tidings of thee, who is he,

+In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?"

+

+Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone

+Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws

+Expanding, cried: "Lo! this is he I wot of;

+He speaks not for himself: the outcast this

+Who overwhelm'd the doubt in Caesar's mind,

+Affirming that delay to men prepar'd

+Was ever harmful."  Oh  how terrified

+Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut

+The tongue, which spake that hardy word.  Then one

+Maim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloom

+The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots

+Sullied his face, and cried: "'Remember thee

+Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim'd,

+'The deed once done there is an end,' that prov'd

+A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race."

+

+I added: "Ay, and death to thine own tribe."

+

+Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off,

+As one grief stung to madness.  But I there

+Still linger'd to behold the troop, and saw

+Things, such as I may fear without more proof

+To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,

+The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate

+Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within

+And bids him on and fear not.  Without doubt

+I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,

+A headless trunk, that even as the rest

+Of the sad flock pac'd onward.  By the hair

+It bore the sever'd member, lantern-wise

+Pendent in hand, which look'd at us and said,

+

+"Woe's me!"  The spirit lighted thus himself,

+And two there were in one, and one in two.

+How that may be he knows who ordereth so.

+

+When at the bridge's foot direct he stood,

+His arm aloft he rear'd, thrusting the head

+Full in our view, that nearer we might hear

+The words, which thus it utter'd: "Now behold

+This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go'st

+To spy the dead; behold if any else

+Be terrible as this.  And that on earth

+Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I

+Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John

+The counsel mischievous.  Father and son

+I set at mutual war.  For Absalom

+And David more did not Ahitophel,

+Spurring them on maliciously to strife.

+For parting those so closely knit, my brain

+Parted, alas!  I carry from its source,

+That in this trunk inhabits.  Thus the law

+Of retribution fiercely works in me."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXIX

+

+SO were mine eyes inebriate with view

+Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds

+Disfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep.

+

+But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on?

+Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below

+Among the maim'd and miserable shades?

+Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside

+This weakness.  Know, if thou wouldst number them

+That two and twenty miles the valley winds

+Its circuit, and already is the moon

+Beneath our feet: the time permitted now

+Is short, and more not seen remains to see."

+

+"If thou," I straight replied, "hadst weigh'd the cause

+For which I look'd, thou hadst perchance excus'd

+The tarrying still."  My leader part pursu'd

+His way, the while I follow'd, answering him,

+And adding thus: "Within that cave I deem,

+Whereon so fixedly I held my ken,

+There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood,

+Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear."

+

+Then spake my master: "Let thy soul no more

+Afflict itself for him.  Direct elsewhere

+Its thought, and leave him.  At the bridge's foot

+I mark'd how he did point with menacing look

+At thee, and heard him by the others nam'd

+Geri of Bello.  Thou so wholly then

+Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul'd

+The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not

+That way, ere he was gone."--"O guide belov'd!

+His violent death yet unaveng'd," said I,

+"By any, who are partners in his shame,

+Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think,

+He pass'd me speechless by; and doing so

+Hath made me more compassionate his fate."

+

+So we discours'd to where the rock first show'd

+The other valley, had more light been there,

+E'en to the lowest depth.  Soon as we came

+O'er the last cloister in the dismal rounds

+Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood

+Were to our view expos'd, then many a dart

+Of sore lament assail'd me, headed all

+With points of thrilling pity, that I clos'd

+Both ears against the volley with mine hands.

+

+As were the torment, if each lazar-house

+Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time

+'Twixt July and September, with the isle

+Sardinia and Maremma's pestilent fen,

+Had heap'd their maladies all in one foss

+Together; such was here the torment: dire

+The stench, as issuing steams from fester'd limbs.

+

+We on the utmost shore of the long rock

+Descended still to leftward.  Then my sight

+Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein

+The minister of the most mighty Lord,

+All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment

+The forgers noted on her dread record.

+

+More rueful was it not methinks to see

+The nation in Aegina droop, what time

+Each living thing, e'en to the little worm,

+All fell, so full of malice was the air

+(And afterward, as bards of yore have told,

+The ancient people were restor'd anew

+From seed of emmets) than was here to see

+The spirits, that languish'd through the murky vale

+Up-pil'd on many a stack.  Confus'd they lay,

+One o'er the belly, o'er the shoulders one

+Roll'd of another; sideling crawl'd a third

+Along the dismal pathway.  Step by step

+We journey'd on, in silence looking round

+And list'ning those diseas'd, who strove in vain

+To lift their forms.  Then two I mark'd, that sat

+Propp'd 'gainst each other, as two brazen pans

+Set to retain the heat.  From head to foot,

+A tetter bark'd them round. Nor saw I e'er

+Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord

+Impatient waited, or himself perchance

+Tir'd with long watching, as of these each one

+Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness

+Of ne'er abated pruriency.  The crust

+Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales

+Scrap'd from the bream or fish of broader mail.

+

+"O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off

+Thy coat of proof," thus spake my guide to one,

+"And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them,

+Tell me if any born of Latian land

+Be among these within: so may thy nails

+Serve thee for everlasting to this toil."

+

+"Both are of Latium," weeping he replied,

+"Whom tortur'd thus thou seest: but who art thou

+That hast inquir'd of us?"  To whom my guide:

+"One that descend with this man, who yet lives,

+From rock to rock, and show him hell's abyss."

+

+Then started they asunder, and each turn'd

+Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear

+Those words redounding struck.  To me my liege

+Address'd him: "Speak to them whate'er thou list."

+

+And I therewith began: "So may no time

+Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men

+In th' upper world, but after many suns

+Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are,

+And of what race ye come.  Your punishment,

+Unseemly and disgustful in its kind,

+Deter you not from opening thus much to me."

+

+"Arezzo was my dwelling," answer'd one,

+"And me Albero of Sienna brought

+To die by fire; but that, for which I died,

+Leads me not here.  True is in sport I told him,

+That I had learn'd to wing my flight in air.

+And he admiring much, as he was void

+Of wisdom, will'd me to declare to him

+The secret of mine art: and only hence,

+Because I made him not a Daedalus,

+Prevail'd on one suppos'd his sire to burn me.

+But Minos to this chasm last of the ten,

+For that I practis'd alchemy on earth,

+Has doom'd me.  Him no subterfuge eludes."

+

+Then to the bard I spake: "Was ever race

+Light as Sienna's?  Sure not France herself

+Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain."

+

+The other leprous spirit heard my words,

+And thus return'd: "Be Stricca from this charge

+Exempted, he who knew so temp'rately

+To lay out fortune's gifts; and Niccolo

+Who first the spice's costly luxury

+Discover'd in that garden, where such seed

+Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop

+Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano

+Lavish'd his vineyards and wide-spreading woods,

+And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show'd

+A spectacle for all.  That thou mayst know

+Who seconds thee against the Siennese

+Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen'd sight,

+That well my face may answer to thy ken;

+So shalt thou see I am Capocchio's ghost,

+Who forg'd transmuted metals by the power

+Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right,

+Thus needs must well remember how I aped

+Creative nature by my subtle art."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXX

+

+WHAT time resentment burn'd in Juno's breast

+For Semele against the Theban blood,

+As more than once in dire mischance was rued,

+Such fatal frenzy seiz'd on Athamas,

+That he his spouse beholding with a babe

+Laden on either arm, "Spread out," he cried,

+"The meshes, that I take the lioness

+And the young lions at the pass:" then forth

+Stretch'd he his merciless talons, grasping one,

+One helpless innocent, Learchus nam'd,

+Whom swinging down he dash'd upon a rock,

+And with her other burden self-destroy'd

+The hapless mother plung'd: and when the pride

+Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height,

+By fortune overwhelm'd, and the old king

+With his realm perish'd, then did Hecuba,

+A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw

+Polyxena first slaughter'd, and her son,

+Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach

+Next met the mourner's view, then reft of sense

+Did she run barking even as a dog;

+Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul.

+Bet ne'er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy

+With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads

+Infixing in the limbs of man or beast,

+As now two pale and naked ghost I saw

+That gnarling wildly scamper'd, like the swine

+Excluded from his stye.  One reach'd Capocchio,

+And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs,

+Dragg'd him, that o'er the solid pavement rubb'd

+His belly stretch'd out prone.  The other shape,

+He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake;

+"That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood

+Of random mischief vent he still his spite."

+

+To whom I answ'ring: "Oh! as thou dost hope,

+The other may not flesh its jaws on thee,

+Be patient to inform us, who it is,

+Ere it speed hence."--"That is the ancient soul

+Of wretched Myrrha," he replied, "who burn'd

+With most unholy flame for her own sire,

+

+"And a false shape assuming, so perform'd

+The deed of sin; e'en as the other there,

+That onward passes, dar'd to counterfeit

+Donati's features, to feign'd testament

+The seal affixing, that himself might gain,

+For his own share, the lady of the herd."

+

+When vanish'd the two furious shades, on whom

+Mine eye was held, I turn'd it back to view

+The other cursed spirits.  One I saw

+In fashion like a lute, had but the groin

+Been sever'd, where it meets the forked part.

+Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs

+With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch

+Suits not the visage, open'd wide his lips

+Gasping as in the hectic man for drought,

+One towards the chin, the other upward curl'd.

+

+"O ye, who in this world of misery,

+Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,"

+Thus he began, "attentively regard

+Adamo's woe.  When living, full supply

+Ne'er lack'd me of what most I coveted;

+One drop of water now, alas!  I crave.

+The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes

+Of Casentino, making fresh and soft

+The banks whereby they glide to Arno's stream,

+Stand ever in my view; and not in vain;

+For more the pictur'd semblance dries me up,

+Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh

+Desert these shrivel'd cheeks.  So from the place,

+Where I transgress'd, stern justice urging me,

+Takes means to quicken more my lab'ring sighs.

+There is Romena, where I falsified

+The metal with the Baptist's form imprest,

+For which on earth I left my body burnt.

+But if I here might see the sorrowing soul

+Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother,

+For Branda's limpid spring I would not change

+The welcome sight.  One is e'en now within,

+If truly the mad spirits tell, that round

+Are wand'ring.  But wherein besteads me that?

+My limbs are fetter'd.  Were I but so light,

+That I each hundred years might move one inch,

+I had set forth already on this path,

+Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew,

+Although eleven miles it wind, not more

+Than half of one across.  They brought me down

+Among this tribe; induc'd by them I stamp'd

+The florens with three carats of alloy."

+

+"Who are that abject pair," I next inquir'd,

+"That closely bounding thee upon thy right

+Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep'd

+In the chill stream?"--"When to this gulf I dropt,"

+He answer'd, "here I found them; since that hour

+They have not turn'd, nor ever shall, I ween,

+Till time hath run his course.  One is that dame

+The false accuser of the Hebrew youth;

+Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy.

+Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out,

+In such a cloud upsteam'd."  When that he heard,

+One, gall'd perchance to be so darkly nam'd,

+With clench'd hand smote him on the braced paunch,

+That like a drum resounded: but forthwith

+Adamo smote him on the face, the blow

+Returning with his arm, that seem'd as hard.

+

+"Though my o'erweighty limbs have ta'en from me

+The power to move," said he, "I have an arm

+At liberty for such employ."  To whom

+Was answer'd: "When thou wentest to the fire,

+Thou hadst it not so ready at command,

+Then readier when it coin'd th' impostor gold."

+

+And thus the dropsied: "Ay, now speak'st thou true.

+But there thou gav'st not such true testimony,

+When thou wast question'd of the truth, at Troy."

+

+"If I spake false, thou falsely stamp'dst the coin,"

+Said Sinon; "I am here but for one fault,

+And thou for more than any imp beside."

+

+"Remember," he replied, "O perjur'd one,

+The horse remember, that did teem with death,

+And all the world be witness to thy guilt."

+

+"To thine," return'd the Greek, "witness the thirst

+Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound,

+Rear'd by thy belly up before thine eyes,

+A mass corrupt."  To whom the coiner thus:

+"Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass

+Its evil saying.  Me if thirst assails,

+Yet I am stuff'd with moisture.  Thou art parch'd,

+Pains rack thy head, no urging would'st thou need

+To make thee lap Narcissus' mirror up."

+

+I was all fix'd to listen, when my guide

+Admonish'd: "Now beware: a little more.

+And I do quarrel with thee."  I perceiv'd

+How angrily he spake, and towards him turn'd

+With shame so poignant, as remember'd yet

+Confounds me.  As a man that dreams of harm

+Befall'n him, dreaming wishes it a dream,

+And that which is, desires as if it were not,

+Such then was I, who wanting power to speak

+Wish'd to excuse myself, and all the while

+Excus'd me, though unweeting that I did.

+

+"More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,"

+My master cried, "might expiate.  Therefore cast

+All sorrow from thy soul; and if again

+Chance bring thee, where like conference is held,

+Think I am ever at thy side.  To hear

+Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXI

+

+THE very tongue, whose keen reproof before

+Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain'd,

+Now minister'd my cure.  So have I heard,

+Achilles and his father's javelin caus'd

+Pain first, and then the boon of health restor'd.

+

+Turning our back upon the vale of woe,

+W cross'd th' encircled mound in silence.  There

+Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom

+Mine eye advanc'd not: but I heard a horn

+Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made

+The thunder feeble.  Following its course

+The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent

+On that one spot.  So terrible a blast

+Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout

+O'erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench'd

+His saintly warfare.  Thitherward not long

+My head was rais'd, when many lofty towers

+Methought I spied.  "Master," said I, "what land

+Is this?"  He answer'd straight: "Too long a space

+Of intervening darkness has thine eye

+To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err'd

+In thy imagining.  Thither arriv'd

+Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude

+The sense.  A little therefore urge thee on."

+

+Then tenderly he caught me by the hand;

+"Yet know," said he, "ere farther we advance,

+That it less strange may seem, these are not towers,

+But giants.  In the pit they stand immers'd,

+Each from his navel downward, round the bank."

+

+As when a fog disperseth gradually,

+Our vision traces what the mist involves

+Condens'd in air; so piercing through the gross

+And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more

+We near'd toward the brink, mine error fled,

+And fear came o'er me.  As with circling round

+Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls,

+E'en thus the shore, encompassing th' abyss,

+Was turreted with giants, half their length

+Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav'n

+Yet threatens, when his mutt'ring thunder rolls.

+

+Of one already I descried the face,

+Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge

+Great part, and both arms down along his ribs.

+

+All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand

+Left framing of these monsters, did display

+Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War

+Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she

+Repent her not of th' elephant and whale,

+Who ponders well confesses her therein

+Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force

+And evil will are back'd with subtlety,

+Resistance none avails.  His visage seem'd

+In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops

+Saint Peter's Roman fane; and th' other bones

+Of like proportion, so that from above

+The bank, which girdled him below, such height

+Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders

+Had striv'n in vain to reach but to his hair.

+Full thirty ample palms was he expos'd

+Downward from whence a man his garments loops.

+"Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,"

+So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns

+Became not; and my guide address'd him thus:

+

+"O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee

+Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage

+Or other passion wring thee.  Search thy neck,

+There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on.

+Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast

+Where hangs the baldrick!"  Then to me he spake:

+"He doth accuse himself.  Nimrod is this,

+Through whose ill counsel in the world no more

+One tongue prevails.  But pass we on, nor waste

+Our words; for so each language is to him,

+As his to others, understood by none."

+

+Then to the leftward turning sped we forth,

+And at a sling's throw found another shade

+Far fiercer and more huge.  I cannot say

+What master hand had girt him; but he held

+Behind the right arm fetter'd, and before

+The other with a chain, that fasten'd him

+From the neck down, and five times round his form

+Apparent met the wreathed links.  "This proud one

+Would of his strength against almighty Jove

+Make trial," said my guide; "whence he is thus

+Requited: Ephialtes him they call.

+

+"Great was his prowess, when the giants brought

+Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled,

+Now moves he never."  Forthwith I return'd:

+"Fain would I, if 't were possible, mine eyes

+Of Briareus immeasurable gain'd

+Experience next."  He answer'd: "Thou shalt see

+Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks

+And is unfetter'd, who shall place us there

+Where guilt is at its depth.  Far onward stands

+Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made

+Like to this spirit, save that in his looks

+More fell he seems."  By violent earthquake rock'd

+Ne'er shook a tow'r, so reeling to its base,

+As Ephialtes.  More than ever then

+I dreaded death, nor than the terror more

+Had needed, if I had not seen the cords

+That held him fast.  We, straightway journeying on,

+Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete

+Without the head, forth issued from the cave.

+

+"O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made

+Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword

+Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight,

+Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil

+An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought

+In the high conflict on thy brethren's side,

+Seems as men yet believ'd, that through thine arm

+The sons of earth had conquer'd, now vouchsafe

+To place us down beneath, where numbing cold

+Locks up Cocytus.  Force not that we crave

+Or Tityus' help or Typhon's.  Here is one

+Can give what in this realm ye covet.  Stoop

+Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip.

+He in the upper world can yet bestow

+Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks

+For life yet longer, if before the time

+Grace call him not unto herself."  Thus spake

+The teacher.  He in haste forth stretch'd his hands,

+And caught my guide.  Alcides whilom felt

+That grapple straighten'd score.  Soon as my guide

+Had felt it, he bespake me thus: "This way

+That I may clasp thee;" then so caught me up,

+That we were both one burden.  As appears

+The tower of Carisenda, from beneath

+Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud

+So sail across, that opposite it hangs,

+Such then Antaeus seem'd, as at mine ease

+I mark'd him stooping.  I were fain at times

+T' have pass'd another way.  Yet in th' abyss,

+That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs,

+Lightly he plac'd us; nor there leaning stay'd,

+But rose as in a bark the stately mast.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXII

+

+COULD I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit

+That hole of sorrow, o'er which ev'ry rock

+His firm abutment rears, then might the vein

+Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine

+Such measures, and with falt'ring awe I touch

+The mighty theme; for to describe the depth

+Of all the universe, is no emprize

+To jest with, and demands a tongue not us'd

+To infant babbling.  But let them assist

+My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid

+Amphion wall'd in Thebes, so with the truth

+My speech shall best accord.  Oh ill-starr'd folk,

+Beyond all others wretched! who abide

+In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words

+To speak of, better had ye here on earth

+Been flocks or mountain goats.  As down we stood

+In the dark pit beneath the giants' feet,

+But lower far than they, and I did gaze

+Still on the lofty battlement, a voice

+Bespoke me thus: "Look how thou walkest.  Take

+Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads

+Of thy poor brethren."  Thereupon I turn'd,

+And saw before and underneath my feet

+A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem'd

+To glass than water.  Not so thick a veil

+In winter e'er hath Austrian Danube spread

+O'er his still course, nor Tanais far remote

+Under the chilling sky.  Roll'd o'er that mass

+Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall'n,

+

+Not e'en its rim had creak'd. As peeps the frog

+Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams

+The village gleaner oft pursues her toil,

+So, to where modest shame appears, thus low

+Blue pinch'd and shrin'd in ice the spirits stood,

+Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.

+His face each downward held; their mouth the cold,

+Their eyes express'd the dolour of their heart.

+

+A space I look'd around, then at my feet

+Saw two so strictly join'd, that of their head

+The very hairs were mingled.  "Tell me ye,

+Whose bosoms thus together press," said I,

+"Who are ye?"  At that sound their necks they bent,

+And when their looks were lifted up to me,

+Straightway their eyes, before all moist within,

+Distill'd upon their lips, and the frost bound

+The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there.

+Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos'd up

+So stoutly.  Whence like two enraged goats

+They clash'd together; them such fury seiz'd.

+

+And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft,

+Exclaim'd, still looking downward: "Why on us

+Dost speculate so long?  If thou wouldst know

+Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave

+Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own

+Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves.

+They from one body issued; and throughout

+Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade

+More worthy in congealment to be fix'd,

+Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur's land

+At that one blow dissever'd, not Focaccia,

+No not this spirit, whose o'erjutting head

+Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name

+Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be,

+Well knowest who he was: and to cut short

+All further question, in my form behold

+What once was Camiccione.  I await

+Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt

+Shall wash out mine."  A thousand visages

+Then mark'd I, which the keen and eager cold

+Had shap'd into a doggish grin; whence creeps

+A shiv'ring horror o'er me, at the thought

+Of those frore shallows.  While we journey'd on

+Toward the middle, at whose point unites

+All heavy substance, and I trembling went

+Through that eternal chillness, I know not

+If will it were or destiny, or chance,

+But, passing 'midst the heads, my foot did strike

+With violent blow against the face of one.

+

+"Wherefore dost bruise me?" weeping, he exclaim'd,

+"Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge

+For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?"

+

+I thus: "Instructor, now await me here,

+That I through him may rid me of my doubt.

+Thenceforth what haste thou wilt."  The teacher paus'd,

+And to that shade I spake, who bitterly

+Still curs'd me in his wrath.  "What art thou, speak,

+That railest thus on others?"  He replied:

+"Now who art thou, that smiting others' cheeks

+Through Antenora roamest, with such force

+As were past suff'rance, wert thou living still?"

+

+"And I am living, to thy joy perchance,"

+Was my reply, "if fame be dear to thee,

+That with the rest I may thy name enrol."

+

+"The contrary of what I covet most,"

+Said he, "thou tender'st: hence; nor vex me more.

+Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale."

+

+Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried:

+"Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here."

+

+"Rend all away," he answer'd, "yet for that

+I will not tell nor show thee who I am,

+Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times."

+

+Now I had grasp'd his tresses, and stript off

+More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes

+Drawn in and downward, when another cried,

+"What ails thee, Bocca?  Sound not loud enough

+Thy chatt'ring teeth, but thou must bark outright?

+What devil wrings thee?"--"Now," said I, "be dumb,

+Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee

+True tidings will I bear."--"Off," he replied,

+"Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence

+To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib,

+Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman's gold.

+'Him of Duera,' thou canst say, 'I mark'd,

+Where the starv'd sinners pine.'  If thou be ask'd

+What other shade was with them, at thy side

+Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain'd

+The biting axe of Florence.  Farther on,

+If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides,

+With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him

+Who op'd Faenza when the people slept."

+

+We now had left him, passing on our way,

+When I beheld two spirits by the ice

+Pent in one hollow, that the head of one

+Was cowl unto the other; and as bread

+Is raven'd up through hunger, th' uppermost

+Did so apply his fangs to th' other's brain,

+Where the spine joins it.  Not more furiously

+On Menalippus' temples Tydeus gnaw'd,

+Than on that skull and on its garbage he.

+

+"O thou who show'st so beastly sign of hate

+'Gainst him thou prey'st on, let me hear," said I

+"The cause, on such condition, that if right

+Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are,

+And what the colour of his sinning was,

+I may repay thee in the world above,

+If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long."

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXIII

+

+HIS jaws uplifting from their fell repast,

+That sinner wip'd them on the hairs o' th' head,

+Which he behind had mangled, then began:

+"Thy will obeying, I call up afresh

+Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings

+My heart, or ere I tell on't. But if words,

+That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear

+Fruit of eternal infamy to him,

+The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once

+Shalt see me speak and weep.  Who thou mayst be

+I know not, nor how here below art come:

+But Florentine thou seemest of a truth,

+When I do hear thee.  Know I was on earth

+Count Ugolino, and th' Archbishop he

+Ruggieri.  Why I neighbour him so close,

+Now list.  That through effect of his ill thoughts

+In him my trust reposing, I was ta'en

+And after murder'd, need is not I tell.

+What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is,

+How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear,

+And know if he have wrong'd me.  A small grate

+Within that mew, which for my sake the name

+Of famine bears, where others yet must pine,

+Already through its opening sev'ral moons

+Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep,

+That from the future tore the curtain off.

+This one, methought, as master of the sport,

+Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps

+Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight

+Of Lucca to the Pisan.  With lean brachs

+Inquisitive and keen, before him rang'd

+Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.

+After short course the father and the sons

+Seem'd tir'd and lagging, and methought I saw

+The sharp tusks gore their sides.  When I awoke

+Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard

+My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask

+For bread.  Right cruel art thou, if no pang

+Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold;

+And if not now, why use thy tears to flow?

+Now had they waken'd; and the hour drew near

+When they were wont to bring us food; the mind

+Of each misgave him through his dream, and I

+Heard, at its outlet underneath lock'd up

+The' horrible tower: whence uttering not a word

+I look'd upon the visage of my sons.

+I wept not: so all stone I felt within.

+They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried:

+"Thou lookest so!  Father what ails thee?"  Yet

+I shed no tear, nor answer'd all that day

+Nor the next night, until another sun

+Came out upon the world.  When a faint beam

+Had to our doleful prison made its way,

+And in four countenances I descry'd

+The image of my own, on either hand

+Through agony I bit, and they who thought

+I did it through desire of feeding, rose

+O' th' sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieve

+Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav'st

+These weeds of miserable flesh we wear,

+

+'And do thou strip them off from us again.'

+Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down

+My spirit in stillness.  That day and the next

+We all were silent.  Ah, obdurate earth!

+Why open'dst not upon us?  When we came

+To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet

+Outstretch'd did fling him, crying, 'Hast no help

+For me, my father!'  There he died, and e'en

+Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three

+Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth:

+

+"Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope

+Over them all, and for three days aloud

+Call'd on them who were dead.  Then fasting got

+The mastery of grief."  Thus having spoke,

+

+Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth

+He fasten'd, like a mastiff's 'gainst the bone

+Firm and unyielding.  Oh thou Pisa! shame

+Of all the people, who their dwelling make

+In that fair region, where th' Italian voice

+Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack

+To punish, from their deep foundations rise

+Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up

+The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee

+May perish in the waters!  What if fame

+Reported that thy castles were betray'd

+By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou

+To stretch his children on the rack.  For them,

+Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair

+Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told,

+Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make

+Uncapable of guilt.  Onward we pass'd,

+Where others skarf'd in rugged folds of ice

+Not on their feet were turn'd, but each revers'd.

+

+There very weeping suffers not to weep;

+For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds

+Impediment, and rolling inward turns

+For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears

+Hang cluster'd, and like crystal vizors show,

+Under the socket brimming all the cup.

+

+Now though the cold had from my face dislodg'd

+Each feeling, as 't were callous, yet me seem'd

+Some breath of wind I felt.  "Whence cometh this,"

+Said I, "my master?  Is not here below

+All vapour quench'd?"--"'Thou shalt be speedily,"

+He answer'd, "where thine eye shall tell thee whence

+The cause descrying of this airy shower."

+

+Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn'd:

+"O souls so cruel! that the farthest post

+Hath been assign'd you, from this face remove

+The harden'd veil, that I may vent the grief

+Impregnate at my heart, some little space

+Ere it congeal again!"  I thus replied:

+"Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid;

+And if I extricate thee not, far down

+As to the lowest ice may I descend!"

+

+"The friar Alberigo," answered he,

+"Am I, who from the evil garden pluck'd

+Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date

+More luscious for my fig."--"Hah!"  I exclaim'd,

+"Art thou too dead!"--"How in the world aloft

+It fareth with my body," answer'd he,

+"I am right ignorant.  Such privilege

+Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul

+Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc'd.

+And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly

+The glazed tear-drops that o'erlay mine eyes,

+Know that the soul, that moment she betrays,

+As I did, yields her body to a fiend

+Who after moves and governs it at will,

+Till all its time be rounded; headlong she

+Falls to this cistern.  And perchance above

+Doth yet appear the body of a ghost,

+Who here behind me winters.  Him thou know'st,

+If thou but newly art arriv'd below.

+The years are many that have pass'd away,

+Since to this fastness Branca Doria came."

+

+"Now," answer'd I, "methinks thou mockest me,

+For Branca Doria never yet hath died,

+But doth all natural functions of a man,

+Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on."

+

+He thus: "Not yet unto that upper foss

+By th' evil talons guarded, where the pitch

+Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach'd,

+When this one left a demon in his stead

+In his own body, and of one his kin,

+Who with him treachery wrought.  But now put forth

+Thy hand, and ope mine eyes."  I op'd them not.

+Ill manners were best courtesy to him.

+

+Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way,

+With every foulness stain'd, why from the earth

+Are ye not cancel'd?  Such an one of yours

+I with Romagna's darkest spirit found,

+As for his doings even now in soul

+Is in Cocytus plung'd, and yet doth seem

+In body still alive upon the earth.

+

+

+

+

+CANTO XXXIV

+

+"THE banners of Hell's Monarch do come forth

+Towards us; therefore look," so spake my guide,

+"If thou discern him."  As, when breathes a cloud

+Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night

+Fall on our hemisphere, seems view'd from far

+A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round,

+Such was the fabric then methought I saw,

+

+To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew

+Behind my guide: no covert else was there.

+

+Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain

+Record the marvel) where the souls were all

+Whelm'd underneath, transparent, as through glass

+Pellucid the frail stem.  Some prone were laid,

+Others stood upright, this upon the soles,

+That on his head, a third with face to feet

+Arch'd like a bow.  When to the point we came,

+Whereat my guide was pleas'd that I should see

+The creature eminent in beauty once,

+He from before me stepp'd and made me pause.

+

+"Lo!"  he exclaim'd, "lo Dis! and lo the place,

+Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength."

+

+How frozen and how faint I then became,

+Ask me not, reader! for I write it not,

+Since words would fail to tell thee of my state.

+I was not dead nor living.  Think thyself

+If quick conception work in thee at all,

+How I did feel.  That emperor, who sways

+The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th' ice

+Stood forth; and I in stature am more like

+A giant, than the giants are in his arms.

+Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits

+With such a part.  If he were beautiful

+As he is hideous now, and yet did dare

+To scowl upon his Maker, well from him

+May all our mis'ry flow.  Oh what a sight!

+How passing strange it seem'd, when I did spy

+Upon his head three faces: one in front

+Of hue vermilion, th' other two with this

+Midway each shoulder join'd and at the crest;

+The right 'twixt wan and yellow seem'd: the left

+To look on, such as come from whence old Nile

+Stoops to the lowlands.  Under each shot forth

+Two mighty wings, enormous as became

+A bird so vast.  Sails never such I saw

+Outstretch'd on the wide sea.  No plumes had they,

+But were in texture like a bat, and these

+He flapp'd i' th' air, that from him issued still

+Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth

+Was frozen.  At six eyes he wept: the tears

+Adown three chins distill'd with bloody foam.

+At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ'd

+Bruis'd as with pond'rous engine, so that three

+Were in this guise tormented.  But far more

+Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang'd

+By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back

+Was stript of all its skin.  "That upper spirit,

+Who hath worse punishment," so spake my guide,

+"Is Judas, he that hath his head within

+And plies the feet without.  Of th' other two,

+Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw

+Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe

+And speaks not!  Th' other Cassius, that appears

+So large of limb.  But night now re-ascends,

+And it is time for parting.  All is seen."

+

+I clipp'd him round the neck, for so he bade;

+And noting time and place, he, when the wings

+Enough were op'd, caught fast the shaggy sides,

+And down from pile to pile descending stepp'd

+Between the thick fell and the jagged ice.

+

+Soon as he reach'd the point, whereat the thigh

+Upon the swelling of the haunches turns,

+My leader there with pain and struggling hard

+Turn'd round his head, where his feet stood before,

+And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts,

+That into hell methought we turn'd again.

+

+"Expect that by such stairs as these," thus spake

+The teacher, panting like a man forespent,

+"We must depart from evil so extreme."

+Then at a rocky opening issued forth,

+And plac'd me on a brink to sit, next join'd

+With wary step my side.  I rais'd mine eyes,

+Believing that I Lucifer should see

+Where he was lately left, but saw him now

+With legs held upward.  Let the grosser sort,

+Who see not what the point was I had pass'd,

+Bethink them if sore toil oppress'd me then.

+

+"Arise," my master cried, "upon thy feet.

+The way is long, and much uncouth the road;

+And now within one hour and half of noon

+The sun returns."  It was no palace-hall

+Lofty and luminous wherein we stood,

+But natural dungeon where ill footing was

+And scant supply of light.  "Ere from th' abyss

+I sep'rate," thus when risen I began,

+"My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free

+From error's thralldom.  Where is now the ice?

+How standeth he in posture thus revers'd?

+And how from eve to morn in space so brief

+Hath the sun made his transit?"  He in few

+Thus answering spake: "Thou deemest thou art still

+On th' other side the centre, where I grasp'd

+Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.

+Thou wast on th' other side, so long as I

+Descended; when I turn'd, thou didst o'erpass

+That point, to which from ev'ry part is dragg'd

+All heavy substance.  Thou art now arriv'd

+Under the hemisphere opposed to that,

+Which the great continent doth overspread,

+And underneath whose canopy expir'd

+The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv'd.

+Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere,

+Whose other aspect is Judecca.  Morn

+Here rises, when there evening sets: and he,

+Whose shaggy pile was scal'd, yet standeth fix'd,

+As at the first.  On this part he fell down

+From heav'n; and th' earth, here prominent before,

+Through fear of him did veil her with the sea,

+And to our hemisphere retir'd.  Perchance

+To shun him was the vacant space left here

+By what of firm land on this side appears,

+That sprang aloof."  There is a place beneath,

+From Belzebub as distant, as extends

+The vaulted tomb, discover'd not by sight,

+But by the sound of brooklet, that descends

+This way along the hollow of a rock,

+Which, as it winds with no precipitous course,

+The wave hath eaten.  By that hidden way

+My guide and I did enter, to return

+To the fair world: and heedless of repose

+We climbed, he first, I following his steps,

+Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav'n

+Dawn'd through a circular opening in the cave:

+Thus issuing we again beheld the stars.

+

+

+

+

+

+End of Project Gutenberg's The Divine Comedy, Complete, by Dante Alighieri

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diff --git a/example/preprocess.pl b/example/preprocess.pl
new file mode 100755
index 0000000..31432dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/example/preprocess.pl
@@ -0,0 +1,16 @@
+#!/usr/bin/env perl
+
+while (<>) {
+    next if (/^\s*$/);
+    next if (/^CANTO /);
+
+    s/^/ /; s/$/ /;
+
+    # punctuation
+    s/([,.!?:;\(\)"]|-+)/ $1 /g;
+    # lowercase
+    tr/A-Z/a-z/;
+    # single quotes are too much trouble
+
+    print(join(" ", split) . "\n");
+}
diff --git a/example/train_ngram.sh b/example/train_ngram.sh
new file mode 100755
index 0000000..48b992d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/example/train_ngram.sh
@@ -0,0 +1,38 @@
+#!/bin/bash
+
+ROOT=$(cd $(dirname $0) && pwd)/..
+
+TMPDIR=/tmp/train_ngram.$$
+
+if [ $# -eq 3 ]; then
+    WORKDIR=$3
+elif [ $# -eq 2 ]; then
+    WORKDIR=$TMPDIR
+else
+    echo "usage: $0 <infile> <outfile> [<tmpdir>]"
+    exit 1
+fi
+
+INFILE=$1
+OUTFILE=$2
+PREFIX=$(basename $OUTFILE)
+
+EPOCHS=10
+VOCAB_SIZE=5000
+NGRAM_SIZE=3
+
+mkdir -p $WORKDIR
+
+$ROOT/src/prepareNeuralLM --train_text $INFILE --ngram_size $NGRAM_SIZE --vocab_size $VOCAB_SIZE --validation_size 500 --write_words_file $WORKDIR/words --train_file $WORKDIR/train.ngrams --validation_file $WORKDIR/validation.ngrams || exit 1
+
+$ROOT/src/trainNeuralNetwork --train_file $WORKDIR/train.ngrams --validation_file $WORKDIR/validation.ngrams --num_epochs $EPOCHS --words_file $WORKDIR/words --model_prefix $WORKDIR/$PREFIX --learning_rate 1 --minibatch_size 8 || exit 1
+
+cp $WORKDIR/$PREFIX.$(($EPOCHS)) $OUTFILE || exit 1
+
+$ROOT/src/testNeuralNetwork --test_file $WORKDIR/train.ngrams --model_file $OUTFILE || exit 1
+
+$ROOT/src/testNeuralLM --test_file $WORKDIR/train.ngrams --model_file $OUTFILE --numberize 0 --ngramize 0 --add_start_stop 0 > $WORKDIR/train.ngrams.scores || exit 1
+
+# $ROOT/src/testNeuralLM --test_file $INFILE --model_file $OUTFILE --numberize 1 --ngramize 1 --add_start_stop 1 > $WORKDIR/inferno.testNeuralLM.scores || exit 1
+
+rm -rf $TMPDIR