The Divine Comedy quotes

Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,

Which in the very thought renews the fear.

So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, Speak will I of the other things I saw there.

Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear.

So bitter is it, death is little more;

But of the good to treat, which there I found, Speak will I of the other things I saw there. I cannot well repeat how there I entered, So full was I of slumber at the moment In which I had abandoned the true way.

I made response to him with bashful forehead. “O, of the other poets honor and light, Avail me the long study and great love That have impelled me to explore thy volume!

Thou art my master, and my author thou, Thou art alone the one from whom I took

The beautiful style that has done honor to me. Behold the beast, for which I have turned back; Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage, For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble.”

Because this beast, at which thou criest out, Suffers not any one to pass her way, But so doth harass him, that she destroys him; And has a nature so malign and ruthless,

That never doth she glut her greedy will, And after food is hungrier than before.

Many the animals with whom she weds, And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound Comes, who shall make her perish in her pain. He shall not feed on either earth or pelf, But upon wisdom, and on love and virtue;

He governs everywhere, and there he reigns; There is his city and his lofty throne; O happy he whom thereto he elects!” And I to him: “

Poet, I thee entreat, By that same God whom thou didst never know, So that I may escape this woe and worse,

Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said, That I may see the portal of Saint Peter, And those thou makest so disconsolate.” Then he moved on, and I behind him followed.

Thither went afterwards the Chosen Vessel, To bring back comfort thence unto that Faith, Which of salvation’s way is the beginning. But I, why thither come, or who concedes it?

I not Aeneas am, I am not Paul, Nor I, nor others, think me worthy of it.

Therefore, if I resign myself to come, I fear the coming may be ill-advised; Thou ’rt wise, and knowest better than I speak.”

Bestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate, And with what needful is for his release, Assist him so, that I may be consoled. Beatrice am I, who do bid thee go; I come from there, where I would fain return;

Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak.

When I shall be in presence of my Lord, Full often will I praise thee unto him.’ Then paused she, and thereafter I began:

‘Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern, Briefly will I relate,’ she answered me, ‘Why I am not afraid to enter here.

Of those things only should one be afraid Which have the power of doing others harm; Of the rest, no; because they are not fearful.

God in his mercy such created me That misery of yours attains me not, Nor any flame assails me of this burning.

“I will tell thee very briefly. These have no longer any hope of death; And this blind life of theirs is so debased, They envious are of every other fate. No fame of them the world permits to be; Misericord and Justice both disdain them.

Let us not speak of them, but look, and pass.

” And I, who looked again, beheld a banner, Which, whirling round, ran on so rapidly, That of all pause it seemed to me indignant;

When some among them I had recognized, I looked, and I beheld the shade of him Who made through cowardice the great refusal. Forthwith I comprehended, and was certain, That this the sect was of the caitiff wretches Hateful to God and to his enemies.

These miscreants, who never were alive,

Were naked, and were stung exceedingly By gadflies and by hornets that were there. These did their faces irrigate with blood, Which, with their tears commingled, at their feet By the disgusting worms was gathered up.

Through me the way is to eternal dole; Through me the way among the people lost. Justice incited my sublime Creator; Created me divine Omnipotence, The highest Wisdom and the primal Love. Before me there were no created things, Only eterne, and I eternal last.

All hope abandon, ye who enter in!

” These words in sombre color I beheld Written upon the summit of a gate; Whence I: “Their sense is, Master, hard to me!” And he to me, as one experienced: “Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned, All cowardice must needs be here extinct.

And lo! towards us coming in a boat An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, Crying: “Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!

Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens;

I come to lead you to the other shore, To the eternal shades in heat and frost. And thou, that yonder standest, living soul, Withdraw thee from these people, who are dead!” But when he saw that I did not withdraw, He said:

And if they were before Christianity, In the right manner they adored not God; And among such as these am I myself. For such defects, and not for other guilt,

Lost are we, and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire.

” Great grief seized on my heart when this I heard, Because some people of much worthiness I knew, who in that Limbo were suspended.

She is Semiramis, of whom we read That she succeeded Ninus, and was his spouse; She held the land which now the Sultan rules. The next is she who killed herself for love, And broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus; Then Cleopatra the voluptuous.”

Helen I saw, for whom so many ruthless Seasons revolved;

and saw the great Achilles, Who at the last hour combated with Love. Paris I saw, Tristan; and more than a thousand Shades did he name and point out with his finger, Whom Love had separated from our life.

Sitteth the city, wherein I was born, Upon the seashore where the Po descends To rest in peace with all his retinue.

Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize,

Seized this man for the person beautiful That was ta’en from me, and still the mode offends me. Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me;

“Thine agonies, Francesca, Sad and compassionate to weeping make me. But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, By what and in what manner Love conceded, That you should know your dubious desires?” And she to me: “There is no greater sorrow

Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery, and that thy Teacher knows.

But, if to recognise the earliest root Of love in us thou hast so great desire, I will do even as he who weeps and speaks. One day we reading were for our delight Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthrall.

But, if to recognise the earliest root Of love in us thou hast so great desire, I will do even as he who weeps and speaks. One day we reading were for our delight Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthrall.

Alone we were and without any fear.

Full many a time our eyes together drew That reading, and drove the color from our faces; But one point only was it that o’ercame us.

But one point only was it that o’ercame us. Whenas we read of the much longed-for smile Being by such a noble lover kissed, This one, who ne’er from me shall be divided,

Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating.

Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it. That day no farther did we read therein.”

But one point only was it that o’ercame us. Whenas we read of the much longed-for smile Being by such a noble lover kissed, This one, who ne’er from me shall be divided, Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating.

Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it.

That day no farther did we read therein.” And all the while one spirit uttered this, The other one did weep so, that, for pity, I swooned away as if I had been dying, And fell, even as a dead body falls.

Whenas we read of the much longed-for smile Being by such a noble lover kissed, This one, who ne’er from me shall be divided, Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating. Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it.

That day no farther did we read therein.

” And all the while one spirit uttered this, The other one did weep so, that, for pity, I swooned away as if I had been dying, And fell, even as a dead body falls.

High will it hold its forehead a long while, Keeping the other under heavy burdens, Howe’er it weeps thereat and is indignant. The just are two, and are not understood there;

Envy and Arrogance and Avarice Are the three sparks that have all hearts enkindled.

” Here ended he his tearful utterance; And I to him: “I wish thee still to teach me, And make a gift to me of further speech.

“Come thou alone, and he begone Who has so boldly entered these dominions. Let him return alone by his mad road; Try, if he can; for thou shalt here remain, Who hast escorted him through such dark regions.”

Think, Reader, if I was discomforted At utterance of the accursed words;

For never to return here I believed. “O my dear Guide, who more than seven times Hast rendered me security, and drawn me From imminent peril that before me stood, Do not desert me,” said I, “thus undone;

But here await me, and thy weary spirit Comfort and nourish with a better hope; For in this nether world I will not leave thee.” So onward goes and there abandons me My Father sweet, and I remain in doubt,

For No and Yes within my head contend.

I could not hear what he proposed to them; But with them there he did not linger long, Ere each within in rivalry ran back.

Well I perceived one sent from Heaven was he, And to the Master turned; and he made sign That I should quiet stand, and bow before him.

Ah! how disdainful he appeared to me!

He reached the gate, and with a little rod He opened it, for there was no resistance. “O banished out of Heaven, people despised!” Thus he began upon the horrid threshold; “Whence is this arrogance within you couched?

And at that moment this primeval crag Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow. But fix thine eyes below; for draweth near The river of blood, within which boiling is Whoe’er by violence doth injure others.”

O blind cupidity, O wrath insane, That spurs us onward so in our short life, And in the eternal then so badly steeps us!

I saw an ample moat bent like a bow, As one which all the plain encompasses, Conformable to what my Guide had said.

Near we approached unto those monsters fleet; Chiron an arrow took, and with the notch Backward upon his jaws he put his beard. After he had uncovered his great mouth, He said to his companions: “Are you ware That he behind moveth whate’er he touches?

Thus are not wont to do the feet of dead men.

” And my good Guide, who now was at his breast, Where the two natures are together joined, Replied: “Indeed he lives, and thus alone Me it behoves to show him the dark valley; Necessity, and not delight, impels us.

And were it not that on the pass of Arno Some glimpses of him are remaining still, Those citizens, who afterwards rebuilt it Upon the ashes left by Attila, In vain had caused their labor to be done.

Of my own house I made myself a gibbet.

”

There close upon the edge we stayed our feet. The soil was of an arid and thick sand, Not of another fashion made than that Which by the feet of Cato once was pressed.

Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou By each one to be dreaded, who doth read That which was manifest unto mine eyes!

Of naked souls beheld I many herds, Who all were weeping very miserably, And over them seemed set a law diverse. Supine upon the ground some folk were lying; And some were sitting all drawn up together, And others went about continually.

But that ungrateful and malignant people, Which of old time from Fesole descended, And smacks still of the mountain and the granite, Will make itself, for thy good deeds, thy foe;

And it is right; for among crabbed sorbs It ill befits the sweet fig to bear fruit.

Old rumor in the world proclaims them blind; A people avaricious, envious, proud; Take heed that of their customs thou do cleanse thee. Thy fortune so much honor doth reserve thee, One party and the other shall be hungry For thee;

For in my mind is fixed, and touches now My heart the dear and good paternal image Of you, when in the world from hour to hour

You taught me how a man becomes eternal;

And how much I am grateful, while I live Behoves that in my language be discerned. What you narrate of my career I write, And keep it to be glossed with other text By a Lady who can do it, if I reach her.

This much will I have manifest to you; Provided that my conscience do not chide me, For whatsoever Fortune I am ready. Such hansel is not new unto mine ears;

Therefore let Fortune turn her wheel around As it may please her, and the churl his mattock.

” My Master thereupon on his right cheek Did backward turn himself, and looked at me; Then said: “He listeneth well who noteth it.”

Commended unto thee be my Tesoro, In which I still live, and no more I ask.” Then he turned round, and seemed to be of those Who at Verona run for the Green Mantle Across the plain; and seemed to be among them

The one who wins, and not the one who loses.

Guidoguerra, Aldobrandi, and Rusticucci—Cataract of the river of blood.

“It must needs be some novelty respond,” I said within myself, “to the new signal The Master with his eye is following so.”

Ah me! how very cautious men should be With those who not alone behold the act, But with their wisdom look into the thoughts!

He said to me: “Soon there will upward come What I await; and what thy thought is dreaming Must soon reveal itself unto thy sight.”

I do not know if I were here too bold, That him I answered only in this metre: “I pray thee tell me now how great a treasure Our Lord demanded of Saint Peter first, Before he put the keys into his keeping?

Truly he nothing asked but ‘Follow me.’

Nor Peter nor the rest asked of Matthias Silver or gold, when he by lot was chosen Unto the place the guilty soul had lost.

The same who with the seven heads was born, And power and strength from the ten horns received, So long as virtue to her spouse was pleasing.

Ye have made yourselves a god of gold and silver; And from the idolater how differ ye, Save that he one, and ye a hundred worship?

Ah, Constantine! of how much ill was mother, Not thy conversion, but that marriage-dower Which the first wealthy Father took from thee!”

Ye have made yourselves a god of gold and silver; And from the idolater how differ ye, Save that he one, and ye a hundred worship?

Ah, Constantine! of how much ill was mother, Not thy conversion, but that marriage-dower Which the first wealthy Father took from thee!

” And while I sang to him such notes as these, Either that anger or that conscience stung him, He struggled violently with both his feet.

Truly I wept, leaning upon a peak Of the hard crag, so that my Escort said To me: “Art thou, too, of the other fools?

Here pity lives when it is wholly dead; Who is a greater reprobate than he Who feels compassion at the doom divine?

Lift up, lift up thy head, and see for whom Opened the earth before the Thebans’ eyes; Wherefore they all cried: ‘Whither rushest thou, Amphiaraus? Why dost leave the war?’

Let them gnash on, according to their fancy, Because they do it for those boiling wretches.” Along the left-hand dike they wheeled about; But first had each one thrust his tongue between His teeth towards their leader for a signal;

And he had made a trumpet of his rump.

Ciampolo, Friar Gomita, and Michael Zanche.

But ever as Barbariccia near them came, Thus underneath the boiling they withdrew.

I saw, and still my heart doth shudder at it,

One waiting thus, even as it comes to pass One frog remains, and down another dives; And Graffiacan, who most confronted him, Grappled him by his tresses smeared with pitch, And drew him up, so that he seemed an otter.

I set me there to practise barratry, For which I pay the reckoning in this heat.” And Ciriatto, from whose mouth projected, On either side, a tusk, as in a boar, Caused him to feel how one of them could rip.

Among malicious cats the mouse had come;

But Barbariccia clasped him in his arms, And said: “Stand ye aside, while I enfork him.” And to my Master he turned round his head; “Ask him again,” he said, “if more thou wish To know from him, before someone destroy him.” The Guide:

“If thou dive, I will not follow thee upon the gallop, But I will beat my wings above the pitch; The height be left, and be the bank a shield, To see if thou alone dost countervail us.”

O thou who readest, thou shalt hear new sport!

Each to the other side his eyes averted; He first, who most reluctant was to do it. The Navarrese selected well his time; Planted his feet on land, and in a moment Leaped, and released himself from their design.

Such was that sinner after he had risen.

Justice of God! O how severe it is, That blows like these in vengeance poureth down!

The Guide thereafter asked him who he was; Whence he replied: “I rained from Tuscany A short time since into this cruel gorge. A bestial life, and not a human, pleased me, Even as the mule I was;

Justice of God! O how severe it is, That blows like these in vengeance poureth down! The Guide thereafter asked him who he was; Whence he replied: “I rained from Tuscany A short time since into this cruel gorge.

A bestial life, and not a human, pleased me,

Even as the mule I was; I’m Vanni Fucci, Beast, and Pistoia was my worthy den.” And I unto the Guide:

Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great,

That over sea and land thou beatest thy wings, And throughout Hell thy name is spread abroad!

Among the thieves five citizens of thine Like these I found, whence shame comes unto me, And thou thereby to no great honor risest.

‘O brothers, who amid a hundred thousand Perils,’ I said, ‘have come unto the West, To this so inconsiderable vigil Which is remaining of your senses still, Be ye unwilling to deny the knowledge, Following the sun, of the unpeopled world.

Consider ye the seed from which ye sprang;

Ye were not made to live like unto brutes, But for pursuit of virtue and of knowledge.’ So eager did I render my companions, With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, That then I hardly could have held them back.

Consider ye the seed from which ye sprang;

Ye were not made to live like unto brutes, But for pursuit of virtue and of knowledge.

’ So eager did I render my companions, With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, That then I hardly could have held them back.

… times rekindled and as many quenched Had been the splendor underneath the moon, Since we had entered into the deep pass, When there appeared to us a mountain, dim From distance, and it seemed to me so high As I had never any one beheld.

Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping;

For out of the new land a whirlwind rose, And smote upon the fore part of the ship.

And truly my belief had been fulfilled But for the High Priest, whom may ill betide, Who put me back into my former sins; And how and wherefore I will have thee hear.

While I was still the form of bone and pulp My mother gave to me, the deeds I did Were not those of a lion, but a fox.

The machinations and the covert ways I knew them all, and practised so their craft, That to the ends of earth the sound went forth.

therefore the keys are two, The which my predecessor held not dear.’ Then urged me on his weighty arguments There, where my silence was the worst advice; And said I: ‘Father, since thou washest me Of that sin into which I now must fall,

The promise long with the fulfilment short Will make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.

’ Francis came afterward, when I was dead, For me; but one of the black Cherubim Said to him: ‘Take him not; do me no wrong;

For who repents not cannot be absolved, Nor can one both repent and will at once, Because of the contradiction which consents not.’ O miserable me! how I did shudder When he seized on me, saying: ‘Peradventure

Thou didst not think that I was a logician!

’ He bore me unto Minos, who entwined Eight times his tail about his stubborn back, And after he had bitten it in great rage, Said: ‘Of the thievish fire a culprit this’;

And one, who both his hands dissevered had, The stumps uplifting through the murky air, So that the blood made horrible his face, Cried out: “Thou shalt remember Mosca also,

Who said, alas! ‘A thing done has an end!’

Which was an ill seed for the Tuscan people”; “And death unto thy race,” thereto I added; Whence he, accumulating woe on woe, Departed, like a person sad and crazed. But I remained to look upon the crowd;

I truly saw, and still I seem to see it, A trunk without a head walk in like manner As walked the others of the mournful herd.

And by the hair it held the head dissevered, Hung from the hand in fashion of a lantern,

And that upon us gazed and said: “O me!” It of itself made to itself a lamp, And they were two in one, and one in two; How that can be, He knows who so ordains it.

And by the hair it held the head dissevered, Hung from the hand in fashion of a lantern, And that upon us gazed and said: “O me!”

It of itself made to itself a lamp, And they were two in one, and one in two;

How that can be, He knows who so ordains it. When it was come close to the bridge’s foot, It lifted high its arm with all the head, To bring more closely unto us its words, Which were:

I made the father and the son rebellious; Achitophel not more with Absalom And David did with his accursed goadings.

Because I parted persons so united, Parted do I now bear my brain, alas!

From its beginning, which is in this trunk. Thus is observed in me the counterpoise.”

I made the father and the son rebellious; Achitophel not more with Absalom And David did with his accursed goadings. Because I parted persons so united, Parted do I now bear my brain, alas! From its beginning, which is in this trunk.

Thus is observed in me the counterpoise.

”

“Now just look, For little wants it that I quarrel with thee.” When him I heard in anger speak to me, I turned me round towards him with such shame That still it eddies through my memory.

And as he is who dreams of his own harm, Who dreaming wishes it may be a dream, So that he craves what is, as if it were not;

Such I became, not having power to speak, For to excuse myself I wished, and still Excused myself, and did not think I did it. “Less shame doth wash away a greater fault,” The Master said, “than this of thine has been;

Such I became, not having power to speak, For to excuse myself I wished, and still Excused myself, and did not think I did it. “

Less shame doth wash away a greater fault,

” The Master said, “than this of thine has been; Therefore thyself disburden of all sadness, And make account that I am aye beside thee, If e’er it come to pass that fortune bring thee Where there are people in a like dispute;

Therefore thyself disburden of all sadness, And make account that I am aye beside thee, If e’er it come to pass that fortune bring thee Where there are people in a like dispute;

For a base wish it is to wish to hear it.

”

And I heard locking up the under door Of the horrible tower; whereat without a word I gazed into the faces of my sons.

I wept not, I within so turned to stone;

They wept; and darling little Anselm mine Said: ‘Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?’ Still not a tear I shed, nor answer made All of that day, nor yet the night thereafter, Until another sun rose on the world.

thyself didst clothe us With this poor flesh, and do thou strip it off.’ I calmed me then, not to make them more sad. That day we all were silent, and the next.

Ah! obdurate earth, wherefore didst thou not open?

When we had come unto the fourth day, Gaddo Threw himself down outstretched before my feet, Saying, ‘My father, why dost thou not help me?’ And there he died;

And there he died; and, as thou seest me, I saw the three fall one by one, between The fifth day and the sixth; whence I betook me, Already blind, to groping over each, And three days called them after they were dead;

Then hunger did what sorrow could not do.

” When he had said this, with his eyes distorted, The wretched skull resumed he with his teeth, Which, as a dog’s, upon the bone were strong. Ah!

Guiltless of any crime, thou modern Thebes! Their youth made Uguccione and Brigata, And the other two my song doth name above! We passed still farther onward, where the ice Another people ruggedly enswathes, Not downward turned, but all of them reversed.

Weeping itself there does not let them weep, And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes Turns itself inward to increase the anguish;

Because the earliest tears a cluster form, And, in the manner of a crystal visor, Fill all the cup beneath the eyebrow full.

But hitherward stretch out thy hand forthwith, Open mine eyes”;—and open them I did not,

And to be rude to him was courtesy.

Ah, Genoese! ye men at variance With every virtue, full of every vice! Wherefore are ye not scattered from the world?

“Behold Dis, and behold the place Where thou with fortitude must arm thyself.” How frozen I became and powerless then, Ask it not, Reader, for I write it not, Because all language would be insufficient.

I did not die, and I alive remained not;

Think for thyself now, hast thou aught of wit, What I became, being of both deprived. The Emperor of the kingdom dolorous From his mid-breast forth issued from the ice;

The Emperor of the kingdom dolorous From his mid-breast forth issued from the ice; And better with a giant I compare Than do the giants with those arms of his; Consider now how great must be that whole, Which unto such a part conforms itself.

Were he as fair once, as he now is foul, And lifted up his brow against his Maker, Well may proceed from him all tribulation.

O, what a marvel it appeared to me, When I beheld three faces on his head! The one in front, and that vermilion was;

And without care of having any rest We mounted up, he first and I the second, Till I beheld through a round aperture Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;

Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.

“Behold Dis, and behold the place Where thou with fortitude must arm thyself.”

How frozen I became and powerless then, Ask it not, Reader, for I write it not, Because all language would be insufficient.

I did not die, and I alive remained not; Think for thyself now, hast thou aught of wit, What I became, being of both deprived. The Emperor of the kingdom dolorous From his mid-breast forth issued from the ice;

How I have brought him would be long to tell thee. Virtue descendeth from on high that aids me To lead him to behold thee and to hear thee. Now may it please thee to vouchsafe his coming;

He seeketh Liberty, which is so dear, As knoweth he who life for her refuses.

Thou know’st it; since, for her, to thee not bitter Was death in Utica, where thou didst leave The vesture, that will shine so, the great day. By us the eternal edicts are not broken; Since this one lives, and Minos binds not me;

And he began: “Son, follow thou my steps; Let us turn back, for on this side declines The plain unto its lower boundaries.” The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour Which fled before it, so that from afar I recognized the trembling of the sea.

Along the solitary plain we went As one who unto the lost road returns, And till he finds it seems to go in vain.

As soon as we were come to where the dew Fights with the sun, and, being in a part Where shadow falls, little evaporates, Both of his hands upon the grass outspread In gentle manner did my Master place;

One from among them saw I coming forward, As to embrace me, with such great affection, That it incited me to do the like.

O empty shadows, save in aspect only!

Three times behind it did I clasp my hands, As oft returned with them to my own breast! I think with wonder I depicted me; Whereat the shadow smiled and backward drew; And I, pursuing it, pressed farther forward.

And I, pursuing it, pressed farther forward. Gently it said that I should stay my steps; Then knew I who it was, and I entreated That it would stop awhile to speak with me. It made reply to me: “Even as I loved thee

In mortal body, so I love thee free;

Therefore I stop; but wherefore goest thou?” “My own Casella! to return once more There where I am, I make this journey,” said I; “But how from thee has so much time be taken?” And he to me:

So that the white and the vermilion cheeks Of beautiful Aurora, where I was, By too great age were changing into orange. We still were on the border of the sea,

Like people who are thinking of their road, Who go in heart, and with the body stay;

And lo!

… of me no shadow fall, Marvel not at it more than at the heavens, Because one ray impedeth not another To suffer torments, both of cold and heat, Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills That how it works be not unveiled to us.

Insane is he who hopeth that our reason Can traverse the illimitable way,

Which the one Substance in three Persons follows! Mortals, remain contented at the Quia; For if ye had been able to see all, No need there were for Mary to give birth;

Who would have led me up along the mountain? He seemed to me within himself remorseful;

O noble conscience, and without a stain, How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee!

After his feet had laid aside the haste Which mars the dignity of every act, My mind, that hitherto had been restrained, Let loose its faculties as if delighted, And I my sight directed to the hill That highest tow’rds the heaven uplifts itself.

“O happy dead! O spirits elect already!” Virgilius made beginning, “by that peace Which I believe is waiting for you all, Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes, So that the going up be possible,

For to lose time irks him most who most knows.

” As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils, And what the foremost does the others do, Huddling themselves against her, if she stop, Simple and quiet …

After I had my body lacerated By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon. Horrible my iniquities had been;

But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms, That it receives whatever turns to it.

Had but Cosenza’s pastor, who in chase Of me was sent by Clement at that time, In God read understandingly this page, The bones of my dead body still would be At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento, Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn.

These words of his so spurred me on, that I Strained every nerve, behind him scrambling up, Until the circle was beneath my feet. Thereon ourselves we seated both of us Turned to the East, from which we had ascended,

For all men are delighted to look back.

To the low shores mine eyes I first directed, Then to the sun uplifted them, and wondered That on the left hand we were smitten by it.

But, if it pleaseth thee, I fain would learn How far we have to go; for the hill rises Higher than eyes of mine have power to rise.” And he to me: “This mount is such, that ever

At the beginning down below ’tis tiresome, And aye the more one climbs, the less it hurts.

Therefore, when it shall seem so pleasant to thee, That going up shall be to thee as easy As going down the current in a boat, Then at this pathway’s ending thou wilt be; There to repose thy panting breath expect; No more I answer;

Then I began: “Belacqua, I grieve not For thee henceforth; but tell me, wherefore seated In this place art thou? Waitest thou an escort? Or has thy usual habit seized upon thee?” And he: “

O brother, what’s the use of climbing?

Since to my torment would not let me go The Angel of God, who sitteth at the gate.

“Why doth thy mind so occupy itself,” The Master said, “that thou thy pace dost slacken? What matters it to thee what here is whispered?

Come after me, and let the people talk; Stand like a steadfast tower, that never wags Its top for all the blowing of the winds;

For evermore the man in whom is springing Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark, Because the force of one the other weakens.” What could I say in answer but “I come”?

If I to hear thy words be worthy, tell me If thou dost come from Hell, and from what cloister.” “Through all the circles of the doleful realm,” Responded he, “have I come hitherward; Heaven’s power impelled me, and with that I come.

I by not doing, not by doing, lost The sight of that high sun which thou desirest,

And which too late by me was recognized. A place there is below not sad with torments, But darkness only, where the lamentations Have not the sound of wailing, but are sighs.

Already canst thou see how each is stricken.” O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones! Who, in the vision of the mind infirm, Confidence have in your backsliding steps, Do ye not comprehend that we are worms,

Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly That flieth unto judgment without screen?

Why floats aloft your spirit high in air? Like are ye unto insects undeveloped, Even as the worm in whom formation fails!

Here of such pride is paid the forfeiture; And yet I should not be here, were it not That, having power to sin, I turned to God.

O thou vain glory of the human powers, How little green upon thy summit lingers,

If’t be not followed by an age of grossness! In painting Cimabue thought that he Should hold the field, now Giotto has the cry, So that the other’s fame is growing dim.

So has one Guido from the other taken The glory of our tongue, and he perchance Is born, who from the nest shall chase them both.

Naught is this mundane rumor but a breath Of wind, that comes now this way and now that, And changes name, because it changes side.

What fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off From thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst been dead Before thou left the pappo and the dindi, Ere pass a thousand years?

And now he scarce is lisped of in Siena, Where he was lord, what time was overthrown The Florentine delirium, that superb Was at that day as now ’tis prostitute.

Your reputation is the color of grass Which comes and goes, and that discolors it By which it issues green from out the earth.

” And I: “Thy true speech fills my heart with good Humility, and great tumor thou assuagest; But who is he, of whom just now thou spakest?”

Even as thine own Angels of their will Make sacrifice to thee, Hosanna singing, So may all men make sacrifice of theirs. Give unto us this day our daily manna,

Withouten which in this rough wilderness Backward goes he who toils most to advance.

And even as we the trespass we have suffered Pardon in one another, pardon thou Benignly, and regard not our desert. Our virtue, which is easily o’ercome, Put not to proof with the old Adversary, But thou from him who spurs it so, deliver.

His arms he opened, and opened then his wings; “Come,” said he, “near at hand here are the steps, And easy from henceforth is the ascent.” At this announcement few are they who come!

O human creatures, born to soar aloft, Why fall ye thus before a little wind?

He led us on to where the rock was cleft; There smote upon my forehead with his wings, Then a safe passage promised unto me.

Covered with sackcloth vile they seemed to me, And one sustained the other with his shoulder, And all of them were by the bank sustained.

Thus do the blind, in want of livelihood, Stand at the doors of churches asking alms,

And one upon another leans his head, So that in others pity soon may rise, Not only at the accent of their words, But at their aspect, which no less implores.

“

O brother mine, each one is citizen Of one true city;

but thy meaning is, Who may have lived in Italy a pilgrim.” By way of answer this I seemed to hear A little farther on than where I stood, Whereat I made myself still nearer heard.

Will do well the Pagani, when their Devil Shall have departed; but not therefore pure Will testimony of them e’er remain. O Ugolin de’ Fantoli, secure Thy name is, since no longer is awaited One who, degenerating, can obscure it!

But go now, Tuscan, for it now delights me To weep far better than it does to speak,

So much has our discourse my mind distressed.” We were aware that those beloved souls Heard us depart; therefore, by keeping silent, They made us of our pathway confident.

How can it be, that boon distributed The more possessors can more wealthy make Therein, than if by few it be possessed?” And he to me: “Because thou fixest still Thy mind entirely upon earthly things,

Thou pluckest darkness from the very light.

That goodness infinite and ineffable Which is above there, runneth unto love, As to a lucid body comes the sunbeam. So much it gives itself as it finds ardor, So that as far as charity extends, O’er it increases the eternal valor.

That goodness infinite and ineffable Which is above there, runneth unto love, As to a lucid body comes the sunbeam. So much it gives itself as it finds ardor, So that as far as charity extends, O’er it increases the eternal valor.

And the more people thitherward aspire, More are there to love well, and more they love there, And, as a mirror, one reflects the other.

And if my reasoning appease thee not, Thou shalt see Beatrice; and she will fully Take from thee this and every other longing. Endeavour, then, that soon may be extinct, As are the two already, the five wounds That close themselves again by being painful.”

For one in the heavens, and here below one puts it.” A sigh profound, that grief forced into Ai! He first sent forth, and then began he: “Brother,

The world is blind, and sooth thou comest from it!

Ye who are living every cause refer Still upward to the heavens, as if all things They of necessity moved with themselves.

To greater force and to a better nature, Though free, ye subject are, and that creates The mind in you the heavens have not in charge.

Hence, if the present world doth go astray, In you the cause is, be it sought in you;

And I therein will now be thy true spy.

“This is a spirit divine, who in the way Of going up directs us without asking, And who with his own light himself conceals. He does with us as man doth with himself;

For he who sees the need, and waits the asking, Malignly leans already tow’rds denial.

Accord we now our feet to such inviting, Let us make haste to mount ere it grow dark; For then we could not till the day return.” Thus my Conductor said; and I and he Together turned our footsteps to a stairway;

But when to ill it turns, and, with more care Or lesser than it ought, runs after good, ’Gainst the Creator works his own creation.

Hence thou mayst comprehend that love must be The seed within yourselves of every virtue,

And every act that merits punishment. Now inasmuch as never from the welfare Of its own subject can love turn its sight, From their own hatred all things are secure;

This is the principle, from which is taken Occasion of desert in you, according As good and guilty loves it takes and winnows. Those who, in reasoning, to the bottom went, Were of this innate liberty aware, Therefore bequeathed they Ethics to the world.

Supposing, then, that from necessity Springs every love that is within you kindled, Within yourselves the power is to restrain it.

The noble virtue Beatrice understands By the free will; and therefore see that thou Bear it in mind, if she should speak of it.”

A month and little more essayed I how Weighs the great cloak on him from mire who keeps it; For all the other burdens seem a feather.

Tardy, ah woe is me! was my conversion; But when the Roman Shepherd I was made, Then I discovered life to be a lie.

I saw that there the heart was not at rest, Nor farther in that life could one ascend; Whereby the love of this was kindled in me. Until that time a wretched soul and parted From God was I, and wholly avaricious;

For they that through their eyes pour drop by drop The malady which all the world pervades, On the other side too near the verge approach.

Accursed mayst thou be, thou old she-wolf, That more than all the other beasts hast prey, Because of hunger infinitely hollow!

O heaven, in whose gyrations some appear To think conditions here below are changed, When will he come through whom she shall depart? Onward we went with footsteps slow and scarce, And I attentive to the shades I heard Piteously weeping and bemoaning them;

If this be so, what candles or what sun Scattered thy darkness so that thou didst trim Thy sails behind the Fisherman thereafter?” And he to him: “Thou first directedst me Towards Parnassus, in its grots to drink, And first concerning God didst me enlighten.

Thou didst as he who walketh in the night, Who bears his light behind, which helps him not, But maketh wise the persons after him,

When thou didst say: ‘The age renews itself, Justice returns, and man’s primeval time, And a new progeny descends from heaven.’ Through thee I Poet was, through thee a Christian;

‘The age renews itself, Justice returns, and man’s primeval time, And a new progeny descends from heaven.’

Through thee I Poet was, through thee a Christian;

But that thou better see what I design, To color it will I extend my hand. Already was the world in every part Pregnant with the true creed, disseminated By messengers of the eternal kingdom;

And I, more light than through the other passes, Went onward so, that without any labor I followed upward the swift-footed spirits; When thus Virgilius began: “The love

Kindled by virtue aye another kindles, Provided outwardly its flame appear.

Hence from the hour that Juvenal descended Among us into the infernal Limbo, Who made apparent to me thy affection, My kindliness towards thee was as great As ever bound one to an unseen person, So that these stairs will now seem short to me.

“Behold, This is the folk who lost Jerusalem, When Mary made a prey of her own son.” Their sockets were like rings without the gems; Whoever in the face of men reads omo Might well in these have recognized the m.

Who would believe the odor of an apple, Begetting longing, could consume them so,

And that of water, without knowing how? I still was wondering what so famished them, For the occasion not yet manifest Of their emaciation and sad squalor; And lo!

If by my murmuring thou hast been deceived, True things hereafter will declare it to thee. But say if him I here behold, who forth Evoked the new-invented rhymes, beginning, Ladies, that have intelligence of love?” And I to him: “

One am I, who, whenever Love doth inspire me, note, and in that measure Which he within me dictates, singing go.

” “O brother, now I see,” he said, “the knot Which me, the Notary, and Guittone held Short of the sweet new style that now I hear.

Until rejoicing come the beauteous eyes Which weeping caused me to come unto thee, Thou canst sit down, and thou canst walk among them. Expect no more or word or sign from me;

Free and upright and sound is thy free-will, And error were it not to do its bidding;

Thee o’er thyself I therefore crown and mitre!”

Expect no more or word or sign from me; Free and upright and sound is thy free-will, And error were it not to do its bidding;

Thee o’er thyself I therefore crown and mitre!

”

Upon my clasped hands I straightened me, Scanning the fire, and vividly recalling The human bodies I had once seen burned. Towards me turned themselves my good Conductors, And unto me Virgilius said: “My son,

Here may indeed be torment, but not death.

Remember thee, remember! and if I On Geryon have safely guided thee, What shall I do now I am nearer God? Believe for certain, shouldst thou stand a full Millennium in the bosom of this flame, It could not make thee bald a single hair.

The Good Supreme, sole in itself delighting, Created man good, and this goodly place Gave him as hansel of eternal peace. By his default short while he sojourned here;

By his default to weeping and to toil He changed his innocent laughter and sweet play.

That the disturbance which below is made By exhalations of the land and water, (Which far as may be follow after heat,) Might not upon mankind wage any war, This mount ascended tow’rds the heaven so high, And is exempt, from there where it is …

Those who in ancient times have feigned in song The Age of Gold and its felicity, Dreamed of this place perhaps upon Parnassus.

Here was the human race in innocence; Here evermore was Spring, and every fruit;

This is the nectar of which each one speaks.” Then backward did I turn me wholly round Unto my Poets, and saw that with a smile They had been listening to these closing words; Then to the beautiful lady turned mine eyes.

The lady chid me: “Why dost thou burn only So with affection for the living lights, And dost not look at what comes after them?” Then saw I people, as behind their leaders, Coming behind them, garmented in white,

And such a whiteness never was on earth.

The water on my left flank was resplendent, And back to me reflected my left side, E’en as a mirror, if I looked therein.

“Not a drachm Of blood remains in me, that does not tremble; I know the traces of the ancient flame.”

But us Virgilius of himself deprived Had left, Virgilius, sweetest of all fathers,

Virgilius, to whom I for safety gave me: Nor whatsoever lost the ancient mother Availed my cheeks now purified from dew, That weeping they should not again be darkened. “Dante, because Virgilius has departed Do not weep yet, do not weep yet awhile;

But us Virgilius of himself deprived Had left, Virgilius, sweetest of all fathers, Virgilius, to whom I for safety gave me: Nor whatsoever lost the ancient mother Availed my cheeks now purified from dew, That weeping they should not again be darkened. “

Dante, because Virgilius has departed Do not weep yet, do not weep yet awhile;

For by another sword thou need’st must weep.”

Although the veil, that from her head descended, Encircled with the foliage of Minerva, Did not permit her to appear distinctly, In attitude still royally majestic Continued she, like unto one who speaks, And keeps his warmest utterance in reserve: “

Look at me well; in sooth I’m Beatrice!

How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain? Didst thou not know that man is happy here?” Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain, But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass, So great a shame did weigh my forehead down.

“Look at me well; in sooth I’m Beatrice! How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain? Didst thou not know that man is happy here?”

Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain, But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass, So great a shame did weigh my forehead down.

As to the son the mother seems superb, So she appeared to me; for somewhat bitter Tasteth the savor of severe compassion. Silent became she, and the Angels sang Suddenly, “In te, Domine, speravi”: But beyond pedes meos did not pass.

How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain? Didst thou not know that man is happy here?” Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain, But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass, So great a shame did weigh my forehead down.

As to the son the mother seems superb, So she appeared to me; for somewhat bitter Tasteth the savor of severe compassion.

Silent became she, and the Angels sang Suddenly, “In te, Domine, speravi”: But beyond pedes meos did not pass.

So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way My buried flesh should have directed thee.

Never to thee presented art or nature Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth.

And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee By reason of my death, what mortal thing Should then have drawn thee into its desire?

Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward To wait for further blows, or little girl, Or other vanity of such brief use. The callow birdlet waits for two or three, But to the eyes of those already fledged,

In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot.

” Even as children silent in their shame Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground, And conscious of their fault, and penitent; So was I standing; and she said:

The callow birdlet waits for two or three, But to the eyes of those already fledged, In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot.”

Even as children silent in their shame Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground,

And conscious of their fault, and penitent; So was I standing; and she said: “If thou In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard And thou shalt feel a greater pain in seeing.”

In front of them the Tigris and Euphrates Methought I saw forth issue from one fountain,

And slowly part, like friends, from one another.

“O light, O glory of the human race! What stream is this which here unfolds itself From out one source, and from itself withdraws?” For such a prayer, ’twas said unto me, “Pray Matilda that she tell thee”;

But inasmuch as full are all the leaves Made ready for this second canticle, The curb of art no farther lets me go. From the most holy water I returned

Regenerate, in the manner of new trees That are renewed with a new foliage,

Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.

So seldom, Father, do we gather them For triumph or of Caesar or of Poet, (The fault and shame of human inclinations,) That the Peneian foliage should bring forth Joy to the joyous Delphic deity, When anyone it makes to thirst for it.

A little spark is followed by great flame;

Perchance with better voices after me Shall prayer be made that Cyrrha may respond! To mortal men by passages diverse Uprises the world’s lamp;

Within that heaven which most his light receives Was I, and things beheld which to repeat Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends; Because in drawing near to its desire

Our intellect engulfs itself so far, That after it the memory cannot go.

Truly whatever of the holy realm I had the power to treasure in my mind Shall now become the subject of my song. O good Apollo, for this last emprise Make of me such a vessel of thy power As giving the beloved laurel asks!

“Thou makest thyself so dull With false imagining, that thou seest not What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off.

Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest;

But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site, Ne’er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest.” If of my former doubt I was divested By these brief little words more smiled than spoken, I in a new one was the more ensnared; And said:

“Already did I rest content From great amazement; but am now amazed In what way I transcend these bodies light.” Whereupon she, after a pitying sigh, Her eyes directed tow’rds me with that look A mother casts on a delirious child; And she began: “

All things whate’er they be Have order among themselves, and this is form, That makes the universe resemble God.

Here do the higher creatures see the footprints Of the Eternal Power, which is the end Whereto is made the law already mentioned. In the order that I speak of are inclined All natures, by their destinies diverse, More or less near unto their origin;

Somewhat she smiled; and then, “If the opinion Of mortals be erroneous,” she said, “Where’er the key of sense doth not unlock, Certes, the shafts of wonder should not pierce thee Now, forasmuch as, following the senses,

Thou seest that the reason has short wings.

But tell me what thou think’st of it thyself.” And I: “What seems to us up here diverse, Is caused, I think, by bodies rare and dense.” And she:

O Ye, who in some pretty little boat, Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along, Turn back to look again upon your shores; Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure, In losing me, you might yourselves be lost.

The sea I sail has never yet been passed;

Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears.

So that, as we are station above station Throughout this realm, to all the realm ’tis pleasing, As to the King, who makes his will our will.

And his will is our peace; this is the sea To which is moving onward whatsoever It doth create, and all that nature makes.

” Then it was clear to me how everywhere In heaven is Paradise, although the grace Of good supreme there rain not in one measure.

And his will is our peace; this is the sea To which is moving onward whatsoever It doth create, and all that nature makes.”

Then it was clear to me how everywhere In heaven is Paradise,

although the grace Of good supreme there rain not in one measure. But as it comes to pass, if one food sates, And for another still remains the longing, We ask for this, and that decline with thanks, E’en thus did I;

Let Him, who sees and can, thereto respond.

Well I perceive that never sated is Our intellect unless the Truth illume it,

Beyond which nothing true expands itself. It rests therein, as wild beast in his lair, When it attains it; and it can attain it; If not, then each desire would frustrate be.

But because Holy Church in this dispenses, Which seems against the truth which I have shown thee, Behoves thee still to sit awhile at table, Because the solid food which thou hast taken Requireth further aid for thy digestion.

Open thy mind to that which I reveal, And fix it there within; for ’tis not knowledge, The having heard without retaining it.

In the essence of this sacrifice two things Convene together; and the one is that Of which ’tis made, the other is the agreement. This last for evermore is cancelled not Unless complied with, and concerning this With such precision has above been spoken.

And every permutation deem as foolish, If in the substitute the thing relinquished, As the four is in six, be not contained. Therefore whatever thing has so great weight In value that it drags down every balance, Cannot be satisfied with other spending.

Let mortals never take a vow in jest; Be faithful and not blind in doing that,

As Jephthah was in his first offering, Whom more beseemed to say, ‘I have done wrong, Than to do worse by keeping;

and as foolish Thou the great leader of the Greeks wilt find, Whence wept Iphigenia her fair face, And made for her both wise and simple weep, Who heard such kind of worship spoken of.’ Christians, be ye more serious in your movements;

Be ye not like a feather at each wind, And think not every water washes you.

Ye have the Old and the New Testament, And the Pastor of the Church who guideth you Let this suffice you unto your salvation.

Thus Beatrice to me even as I write it; Then all desireful turned herself again To that part where the world is most alive. Her silence and her change of countenance Silence imposed upon my eager mind, That had already in advance new questions;

And as an arrow that upon the mark Strikes ere the bowstring quiet hath become, So did we speed into the second realm.

My Lady there so joyful I beheld, As into the brightness of that heaven she entered, More luminous thereat the planet grew; And if the star itself was changed and smiled, What became I, who by my nature am Exceeding mutable in every guise!

My Lady there so joyful I beheld, As into the brightness of that heaven she entered, More luminous thereat the planet grew; And if the star itself was changed and smiled, What became I, who by my nature am Exceeding mutable in every guise!

As, in a fishpond which is pure and tranquil, The fishes draw to that which from without Comes in such fashion that their food they deem it;

So I beheld more than a thousand splendors Drawing towards us, and in each was heard: “Lo, this is she who shall increase our love.”

“Lo, this is she who shall increase our love.” And as each one was coming unto us, Full of beatitude the shade was seen, By the effulgence clear that issued from it.

Think, Reader, if what here is just beginning No farther should proceed, how thou wouldst have An agonizing need of knowing more;

And of thyself thou’lt see how I from these Was in desire of hearing their conditions, As they unto mine eyes were manifest.

But in commensuration of our wages With our desert is portion of our joy, Because we see them neither less nor greater. Herein doth living Justice sweeten so Affection in us, that for evermore It cannot warp to any iniquity.

Voices diverse make up sweet melodies; So in this life of ours the seats diverse Render sweet harmony among these spheres;

And in the compass of this present pearl Shineth the sheen of Romeo, of whom The grand and beauteous work was ill rewarded.

And then malicious words incited him To summon to a reckoning this just man, Who rendered to him seven and five for ten.

Then he departed poor and stricken in years, And if the world could know the heart he had, In begging bit by bit his livelihood, Though much it laud him, it would laud him more.

”

For the blest ardor that irradiates all things In that most like itself is most vivacious. With all of these things has advantaged been The human creature; and if one be wanting, From his nobility he needs must fall.

’Tis sin alone which doth disfranchise him, And render him unlike the Good Supreme,

So that he little with its light is blanched, And to his dignity no more returns, Unless he fill up where transgression empties With righteous pains for criminal delights.

Nor ’twixt the first day and the final night Such high and such magnificent proceeding By one or by the other was or shall be;

For God more bounteous was himself to give To make man able to uplift himself, Than if he only of himself had pardoned;

And all the other modes were insufficient For justice, were it not the Son of God Himself had humbled to become incarnate.

So came he with deductions to this point; Then he concluded: “Therefore it behoves The roots of your effects to be diverse. Hence one is Solon born, another Xerxes, Another Melchisedec, and another he Who, flying through the air, his son did lose.

Revolving Nature, which a signet is To mortal wax, doth practise well her art,

But not one inn distinguish from another; Thence happens it that Esau differeth In seed from Jacob; and Quirinus comes From sire so vile that he is given to Mars.

I was not ware of our ascending to it; But of our being in it gave full faith My Lady whom I saw more beauteous grow.

And as within a flame a spark is seen, And as within a voice a voice discerned,

When one is steadfast, and one comes and goes, Within that light beheld I other lamps Move in a circle, speeding more and less, Methinks in measure of their inward vision.

And Beatrice began: “Give thanks, give thanks Unto the Sun of Angels, who to this Sensible one has raised thee by his grace!”

Never was heart of mortal so disposed To worship, nor to give itself to God With all its gratitude was it so ready,

As at those words did I myself become; And all my love was so absorbed in Him, That in oblivion Beatrice was eclipsed. Nor this displeased her;

Thus girt about the daughter of Latona We sometimes see, when pregnant is the air, So that it holds the thread which makes her zone.

Within the court of Heaven, whence I return, Are many jewels found, so fair and precious They cannot be transported from the realm;

And of them was the singing of those lights. Who takes not wings that he may fly up thither, The tidings thence may from the dumb await!

Within the court of Heaven, whence I return, Are many jewels found, so fair and precious They cannot be transported from the realm; And of them was the singing of those lights.

Who takes not wings that he may fly up thither, The tidings thence may from the dumb await!

As soon as singing thus those burning suns Had round about us whirled themselves three times, Like unto stars neighboring the steadfast poles, Ladies they seemed, not from the dance released, But who stop short, in silence listening Till they have gathered the new melody.

If from the straight line distant more or less Were the departure, much would wanting be Above and underneath of mundane order.

Remain now, Reader, still upon thy bench, In thought pursuing that which is foretasted, If thou wouldst jocund be instead of weary.

I’ve set before thee; henceforth feed thyself, For to itself diverteth all my care That theme whereof I have been made the scribe.

and him I speak of Even as of the husbandman whom Christ Elected to his garden to assist him. Envoy and servant sooth he seemed of Christ, For the first love made manifest in him Was the first counsel that was given by Christ.

Silent and wakeful many a time was he Discovered by his nurse upon the ground, As if he would have said, ‘For this I came.’

O thou his father, Felix verily! O thou his mother, verily Joanna, If this, interpreted, means as is said!

With this distinction take thou what I said, And thus it can consist with thy belief Of the first father and of our Delight.

And lead shall this be always to thy feet, To make thee, like a weary man, move slowly Both to the Yes and No thou seest not;

For very low among the fools is he Who affirms without distinction, or denies, As well in one as in the other case; Because it happens that full often bends Current opinion in the false direction, And then the feelings bind the intellect.

For very low among the fools is he Who affirms without distinction, or denies, As well in one as in the other case; Because it happens that full often bends Current opinion in the false direction, And then the feelings bind the intellect.

Far more than uselessly he leaves the shore, (Since he returneth not the same he went,) Who fishes for the truth, and has no skill;

And in the world proofs manifest thereof Parmenides, Melissus, Brissus are, And many who went on and knew not whither; Thus did Sabellius, Arius, and those fools Who have been even as swords unto the Scriptures In rendering distorted their straight faces.

And in the world proofs manifest thereof Parmenides, Melissus, Brissus are, And many who went on and knew not whither; Thus did Sabellius, Arius, and those fools Who have been even as swords unto the Scriptures In rendering distorted their straight faces.

Nor yet shall people be too confident In judging, even as he is who doth count The corn in field or ever it be ripe.

For I have seen all winter long the thorn First show itself intractable and fierce, And after bear the rose upon its top;

Nor yet shall people be too confident In judging, even as he is who doth count The corn in field or ever it be ripe.

For I have seen all winter long the thorn First show itself intractable and fierce, And after bear the rose upon its top;

And I have seen a ship direct and swift Run o’er the sea throughout its course entire, To perish at the harbour’s mouth at last.

For I have seen all winter long the thorn First show itself intractable and fierce, And after bear the rose upon its top;

And I have seen a ship direct and swift Run o’er the sea throughout its course entire, To perish at the harbour’s mouth at last.

Let not Dame Bertha nor Ser Martin think, Seeing one steal, another offering make, To see them in the arbitrament divine; For one may rise, and fall the other may.”

For will increase whate’er bestows on us Of light gratuitous the Good Supreme, Light which enables us to look on Him; Therefore the vision must perforce increase, Increase the ardor which from that is kindled, Increase the radiance which from this proceeds.

But even as a coal that sends forth flame, And by its vivid whiteness overpowers it So that its own appearance it maintains,

Thus the effulgence that surrounds us now Shall be o’erpowered in aspect by the flesh, Which still today the earth doth cover up;

Declare unto him if the light wherewith Blossoms your substance shall remain with you Eternally the same that it is now; And if it do remain, say in what manner, After ye are again made visible, It can be that it injure not your sight.”

As by a greater gladness urged and drawn They who are dancing in a ring sometimes Uplift their voices and their motions quicken;

So, at that orison devout and prompt, The holy circles a new joy displayed In their revolving and their wondrous song. Whoso lamenteth him that here we die That we may live above, has never there Seen the refreshment of the eternal rain.

As by a greater gladness urged and drawn They who are dancing in a ring sometimes Uplift their voices and their motions quicken; So, at that orison devout and prompt, The holy circles a new joy displayed In their revolving and their wondrous song.

Whoso lamenteth him that here we die That we may live above, has never there Seen the refreshment of the eternal rain.

The One and Two and Three who ever liveth, And reigneth ever in Three and Two and One, Not circumscribed and all things circumscribing, Three several times was chanted by each one Among those spirits, with such melody That for all merit it were just …

“O sanguis meus, O superinfusa Gratia Dei, sicut tibi, cui Bis unquam Coeli janua reclusa?” Thus that effulgence; whence I gave it heed; Then round unto my Lady turned my sight, And on this side and that was stupefied;

For in her eyes was burning such a smile That with mine own methought I touched the bottom Both of my grace and of my Paradise!

Then, pleasant to the hearing and the sight, The spirit joined to its beginning things I understood not, so profound it spake; Nor did it hide itself from me by choice, But by necessity; for its conception Above the mark of mortals set itself.

’Tis well that without end he should lament, Who for the love of thing that doth not last Eternally despoils him of that love!

As through the pure and tranquil evening air There shoots from time to time a sudden fire, Moving the eyes that steadfast were before,

And seems to be a star that changeth place, Except that in the part where it is kindled Nothing is missed, and this endureth little;

And him of Nerli saw, and him of Vecchio, Contented with their simple suits of buff And with the spindle and the flax their dames.

O fortunate women! and each one was certain Of her own burial-place, and none as yet For sake of France was in her bed deserted.

One o’er the cradle kept her studious watch, And in her lullaby the language used That first delights the fathers and the mothers; Another, drawing tresses from her distaff, Told o’er among her family the tales Of Trojans and of Fesole and Rome.

For there where appetite is not perverted, I say in Heaven, of thee I made a boast!

Truly thou art a cloak that quickly shortens, So that unless we piece thee day by day Time goeth round about thee with his shears!

With You, which Rome was first to tolerate, (Wherein her family less perseveres,) Yet once again my words beginning made; Whence Beatrice, who stood somewhat apart, Smiling, appeared like unto her who coughed At the first failing writ of Guenever. And I began:

At Montemurlo still would be the Counts, The Cerchi in the parish of Acone, Perhaps in Valdigrieve the Buondelmonti.

Ever the intermingling of the people Has been the source of malady in cities, As in the body food it surfeits on;

And a blind bull more headlong plunges down Than a blind lamb; and very often cuts Better and more a single sword than five.

although I feel myself In sooth foursquare against the blows of chance. On this account my wish would be content To hear what fortune is approaching me,

Because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly.

” Thus did I say unto that selfsame light That unto me had spoken before; and even As Beatrice willed was my own will confessed.

And soon it shall be done by him who thinks it, Where every day the Christ is bought and sold. The blame shall follow the offended party In outcry as is usual; but the vengeance Shall witness to the truth that doth dispense it.

Thou shalt abandon everything beloved Most tenderly, and this the arrow is Which first the bow of banishment shoots forth.

Thou shalt have proof how savoureth of salt The bread of others, and how hard a road The going down and up another’s stairs.

For all ingrate, all mad and impious Will they become against thee; but soon after They, and not thou, shall have the forehead scarlet.

Of their bestiality their own proceedings Shall furnish proof; so ’twill be well for thee A party to have made thee by thyself.

Thine earliest refuge and thine earliest inn Shall be the mighty Lombard’s courtesy, Who on the Ladder bears the holy bird, Who such benign regard shall have for thee That ’twixt you twain, in doing and in asking, That shall be first which is with …

Then added: “Son, these are the commentaries On what was said to thee; behold the snares That are concealed behind few revolutions;

Yet would I not thy neighbors thou shouldst envy, Because thy life into the future reaches Beyond the punishment of their perfidies.

” When by its silence showed that sainted soul That it had finished putting in the woof Into that web which I had given it warped, Began I, even as he who yearneth after, Being in doubt, some counsel from a person Who seeth, and …

… of infinite bitterness, And o’er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit The eyes of my own Lady lifted me, And afterward through heaven from light to light, I have learned that which, if I tell again, Will be a savor of strong herbs to many.

And if I am a timid friend to truth, I fear lest I may lose my life with those Who will hereafter call this time the olden.

” The light in which was smiling my own treasure Which there I had discovered, flashed at first As in the sunshine doth a golden mirror; Then made reply:

Then made reply: “A conscience overcast Or with its own or with another’s shame, Will taste forsooth the tartness of thy word; But ne’ertheless, all falsehood laid aside, Make manifest thy vision utterly,

And let them scratch wherever is the itch;

For if thine utterance shall offensive be At the first taste, a vital nutriment ’Twill leave thereafter, when it is digested.

Then made reply: “A conscience overcast Or with its own or with another’s shame, Will taste forsooth the tartness of thy word; But ne’ertheless, all falsehood laid aside, Make manifest thy vision utterly, And let them scratch wherever is the itch;

For if thine utterance shall offensive be At the first taste, a vital nutriment ’Twill leave thereafter, when it is digested.

This cry of thine shall do as doth the wind, Which smiteth most the most exalted summits, And that is no slight argument of honor.

But ne’ertheless, all falsehood laid aside, Make manifest thy vision utterly, And let them scratch wherever is the itch; For if thine utterance shall offensive be At the first taste, a vital nutriment ’Twill leave thereafter, when it is digested.

This cry of thine shall do as doth the wind, Which smiteth most the most exalted summits, And that is no slight argument of honor.

Therefore are shown to thee within these wheels, Upon the mount and in the dolorous valley, Only the souls that unto fame are known;

While the eternal pleasure, which direct Rayed upon Beatrice, from her fair face Contented me with its reflected aspect, Conquering me with the radiance of a smile, She said to me, “Turn thee about and listen;

Not in mine eyes alone is Paradise.

” Even as sometimes here do we behold The affection in the look, if it be such That all the soul is wrapt away by it, So, by the flaming of the effulgence holy To which I turned, I recognized therein The wish of speaking …

You know how I attentively address me To listen; and you know what is the doubt That is in me so very old a fast.”

Even as a falcon, issuing from his hood, Doth move his head, and with his wings applaud him, Showing desire, and making himself fine,

Saw I become that standard, which of lauds Was interwoven of the grace divine, With such songs as he knows who there rejoices. Then it began:

And all his inclinations and his actions Are good, so far as human reason sees, Without a sin in life or in discourse: He dieth unbaptised and without faith; Where is this justice that condemneth him? Where is his fault, if he do not believe?’

Now who art thou, that on the bench wouldst sit In judgment at a thousand miles away, With the short vision of a single span?

Truly to him who with me subtilizes, If so the Scripture were not over you, For doubting there were marvellous occasion. O animals terrene, O stolid minds, The primal will, that in itself is good, Ne’er from itself, the Good Supreme, has moved.

Those Maidens three, whom at the right-hand wheel Thou didst behold, were unto him for baptism More than a thousand years before baptizing. O thou predestination, how remote Thy root is from the aspect of all those Who the First Cause do not behold entire!

And you, O mortals! hold yourselves restrained In judging; for ourselves, who look on God, We do not know as yet all the elect;

And sweet to us is such a deprivation, Because our good in this good is made perfect, That whatsoe’er God wills, we also will.” After this manner by that shape divine, To make clear in me my shortsightedness, Was given to me a pleasant medicine;

And you, O mortals! hold yourselves restrained In judging; for ourselves, who look on God, We do not know as yet all the elect; And sweet to us is such a deprivation,

Because our good in this good is made perfect, That whatsoe’er God wills, we also will.

” After this manner by that shape divine, To make clear in me my shortsightedness, Was given to me a pleasant medicine;

And to the mortal world, when thou returnest, This carry back, that it may not presume Longer tow’rd such a goal to move its feet.

The mind, that shineth here, on earth doth smoke; From this observe how can it do below That which it cannot though the heaven assume it?

” Such limit did its words prescribe to me, The question I relinquished, and restricted Myself to ask it humbly who it was.

For whatsoever hath the Church in keeping Is for the folk that ask it in God’s name, Not for one’s kindred or for something worse.

The flesh of mortals is so very soft, That good beginnings down below suffice not From springing of the oak to bearing acorns.

Peter began with neither gold nor silver, And I with orison and abstinence, And Francis with humility his convent. And if thou lookest at each one’s beginning, And then regardest whither he has run, Thou shalt behold the white changed into brown.

The flesh of mortals is so very soft, That good beginnings down below suffice not From springing of the oak to bearing acorns.

Peter began with neither gold nor silver, And I with orison and abstinence, And Francis with humility his convent.

And if thou lookest at each one’s beginning, And then regardest whither he has run, Thou shalt behold the white changed into brown. In verity the Jordan backward turned, And the sea’s fleeing, when God willed were more A wonder to behold, than succor here.”

The flesh of mortals is so very soft, That good beginnings down below suffice not From springing of the oak to bearing acorns. Peter began with neither gold nor silver, And I with orison and abstinence, And Francis with humility his convent.

And if thou lookest at each one’s beginning, And then regardest whither he has run, Thou shalt behold the white changed into brown.

In verity the Jordan backward turned, And the sea’s fleeing, when God willed were more A wonder to behold, than succor here.” Thus unto me he said; and then withdrew To his own band, and the band closed together;

… would have changed thee And I by smiling, thou canst now imagine, Since that the cry has startled thee so much, In which if thou hadst understood its prayers Already would be known to thee the vengeance Which thou shalt look upon before thou diest.

The sword above here smiteth not in haste Nor tardily, howe’er it seem to him Who fearing or desiring waits for it.

But turn thee round towards the others now, For very illustrious spirits shalt thou see, If thou thy sight directest as I say.”

“Open thine eyes, and look at what I am: Thou hast beheld such things, that strong enough Hast thou become to tolerate my smile.”

I was as one who still retains the feeling Of a forgotten vision, and endeavors In vain to bring it back into his mind,

When I this invitation heard, deserving Of so much gratitude, it never fades Out of the book that chronicles the past.

If at this moment sounded all the tongues That Polyhymnia and her sisters made Most lubrical with their delicious milk, To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth It would not reach, singing the holy smile And how the holy aspect it illumed.

And therefore, representing Paradise, The sacred poem must perforce leap over, Even as a man who finds his way cut off;

But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme, And of the mortal shoulder laden with it, Should blame it not, if under this it tremble.

And therefore, representing Paradise, The sacred poem must perforce leap over, Even as a man who finds his way cut off; But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme, And of the mortal shoulder laden with it, Should blame it not, if under this it tremble.

It is no passage for a little boat This which goes cleaving the audacious prow, Nor for a pilot who would spare himself.

“Why doth my face so much enamour thee, That to the garden fair thou turnest not, Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming? There is the Rose in which the Word Divine Became incarnate;

And when in both mine eyes depicted were The glory and greatness of the living star Which there excelleth, as it here excelled, Athwart the heavens a little torch descended Formed in a circle like a coronal, And cinctured it, and whirled itself about it.

Whatever melody most sweetly soundeth On earth, and to itself most draws the soul, Would seem a cloud that, rent asunder, thunders,

Compared unto the sounding of that lyre Wherewith was crowned the sapphire beautiful, Which gives the clearest heaven its sapphire hue. “I am Angelic Love, that circle round The joy sublime which breathes from out the womb That was the hostelry of our Desire;

Thereafter they remained there in my sight, Regina coeli singing with such sweetness, That ne’er from me has the delight departed.

O, what exuberance is garnered up Within those richest coffers, which had been Good husbandmen for sowing here below!

There they enjoy and live upon the treasure Which was acquired while weeping in the exile Of Babylon, wherein the gold was left.

Of my awaiting, say I, and the seeing The welkin grow resplendent more and more. And Beatrice exclaimed: “Behold the hosts Of Christ’s triumphal march, and all the fruit Harvested by the rolling of these spheres!”

It seemed to me her face was all aflame; And eyes she had so full of ecstasy That I must needs pass on without describing.

As when in nights serene of the full moon Smiles Trivia among the nymphs eternal Who paint the firmament through all its gulfs, Saw I, above the myriads of lamps, A Sun that one and all of them enkindled, E’en as our own doth the …

and this is he To the great office from the cross elected.” My Lady thus; but therefore none the more Did move her sight from its attentive gaze Before or afterward these words of hers.

Even as a man who gazes, and endeavors To see the eclipsing of the sun a little, And who, by seeing, sightless doth become,

So I became before that latest fire, While it was said, “Why dost thou daze thyself To see a thing which here hath no existence?

And how long to mine eyes it was a pleasure, And of the great disdain the proper cause, And the language that I used and that I made.

Now, son of mine, the tasting of the tree Not in itself was cause of so great exile, But solely the o’erstepping of the bounds.

There, whence thy Lady moved Virgilius, Four thousand and three hundred and two circuits Made by the sun, this Council I desired;

The language that I spake was quite extinct Before that in the work interminable The people under Nimrod were employed; For nevermore result of reasoning (Because of human pleasure that doth change, Obedient to the heavens) was durable.

A natural action is it that man speaks; But whether thus or thus, doth nature leave To your own art, as seemeth best to you.

Ere I descended to the infernal anguish, El was on earth the name of the Chief Good, From whom comes all the joy that wraps me round Eli he then was called, and that is proper, Because the use of men is like a leaf …

“Glory be to the Father, to the Son, And Holy Ghost!” all Paradise began, So that the melody inebriate made me.

What I beheld seemed unto me a smile Of the universe; for my inebriation Found entrance through the hearing and the sight.

O joy! O gladness inexpressible! O perfect life of love and peacefulness! O riches without hankering secure! Before mine eyes were standing the four torches Enkindled, and the one that first had come Began to make itself more luminous;

“Glory be to the Father, to the Son, And Holy Ghost!” all Paradise began, So that the melody inebriate made me. What I beheld seemed unto me a smile Of the universe; for my inebriation Found entrance through the hearing and the sight.

O joy! O gladness inexpressible! O perfect life of love and peacefulness!

O riches without hankering secure! Before mine eyes were standing the four torches Enkindled, and the one that first had come Began to make itself more luminous;

And in what manner time in such a pot May have its roots, and in the rest its leaves, Now unto thee can manifest be made.

O Covetousness, that mortals dost engulf Beneath thee so, that no one hath the power Of drawing back his eyes from out thy waves!

Full fairly blossoms in mankind the will; But the uninterrupted rain converts Into abortive wildings the true plums. Fidelity and innocence are found Only in children; afterwards they both Take flight or e’er the cheeks with down are covered.

O Covetousness, that mortals dost engulf Beneath thee so, that no one hath the power Of drawing back his eyes from out thy waves!

Full fairly blossoms in mankind the will; But the uninterrupted rain converts Into abortive wildings the true plums.

Fidelity and innocence are found Only in children; afterwards they both Take flight or e’er the cheeks with down are covered. One, while he prattles still, observes the fasts, Who, when his tongue is loosed, forthwith devours Whatever food under whatever moon;

“

If thine own fingers unto such a knot Be insufficient, it is no great wonder, So hard hath it become for want of trying.

” My Lady thus; then said she: “Do thou take What I shall tell thee, if thou wouldst be sated, And exercise on that thy subtlety.

… turned me round, and mine were touched By that which is apparent in that volume, Whenever on its gyre we gaze intent, A point beheld I, that was raying out Light so acute, the sight which it enkindles Must close perforce before such great acuteness.

And whatsoever star seems smallest here Would seem to be a moon, if placed beside it.

As one star with another star is placed.

Nor as if torpid did he lie before; For neither after nor before proceeded The going forth of God upon these waters. Matter and Form unmingled and conjoined Came into being that had no defect, E’en as three arrows from a three-stringed bow.

And as in glass, in amber, or in crystal A sunbeam flashes so, that from its coming To its full being is no interval,

So from its Lord did the triform effect Ray forth into its being all together, Without discrimination of beginning. Order was con-created and constructed In substances, and summit of the world Were those wherein the pure act was produced. Pure potentiality held the lowest part;

These substances, since in God’s countenance They jocund were, turned not away their sight From that wherefrom not anything is hidden; Hence they have not their vision intercepted By object new, and hence they do not need To recollect, through interrupted thought.

So that below, not sleeping, people dream, Believing they speak truth, and not believing; And in the last is greater sin and shame.

Below you do not journey by one path Philosophising; so transporteth you Love of appearance and the thought thereof. And even this above here is endured With less disdain, than when is set aside The Holy Writ, or when it is distorted.

… Bindi As fables such as these, that every year Are shouted from the pulpit back and forth, In such wise that the lambs, who do not know, Come back from pasture fed upon the wind, And not to see the harm doth not excuse them.

Christ did not to his first disciples say, ‘Go forth, and to the world preach idle tales,’ But unto them a true foundation gave;

And this so loudly sounded from their lips, That, in the warfare to enkindle Faith, They made of the Evangel shields and lances.

Christ did not to his first disciples say, ‘Go forth, and to the world preach idle tales,’ But unto them a true foundation gave;

And this so loudly sounded from their lips, That, in the warfare to enkindle Faith, They made of the Evangel shields and lances.

Now men go forth with jests and drolleries To preach, and if but well the people laugh, The hood puffs out, and nothing more is asked.

The primal light, that all irradiates it, By modes as many is received therein, As are the splendors wherewith it is mated. Hence, inasmuch as on the act conceptive The affection followeth, of love the sweetness Therein diversely fervid is or tepid.

The height behold now and the amplitude Of the eternal power, since it hath made Itself so many mirrors, where ’tis broken, One in itself remaining as before.

”

“The river and the topazes Going in and out, and the laughing of the herbage, Are of their truth foreshadowing prefaces; Not that these things are difficult in themselves, But the deficiency is on thy side, For yet thou hast not vision so exalted.”

There is no babe that leaps so suddenly With face towards the milk, if he awake Much later than his usual custom is,

As I did, that I might make better mirrors Still of mine eyes, down stooping to the wave Which flows that we therein be better made.

The semblance of it is all made of rays Reflected from the top of Primal Motion, Which takes therefrom vitality and power.

And as a hill in water at its base Mirrors itself, as if to see its beauty When affluent most in verdure and in flowers,

So, ranged aloft all round about the light, Mirrored I saw in more ranks than a thousand All who above there have from us returned.

… throne whereon thine eyes are fixed For the crown’s sake already placed upon it, Before thou suppest at this wedding feast Shall sit the soul (that is to be Augustus On earth) of noble Henry, who shall come To redress Italy ere she be ready.

Blind covetousness, that casts its spell upon you, Has made you like unto the little child, Who dies of hunger and drives off the nurse.

And in the sacred forum then shall be A Prefect such, that openly or covert On the same road he will not walk with him. But long of God he will not be endured In holy office;

Whereat to turn mine eyes on Beatrice My seeing nothing and my love constrained me. If what has hitherto been said of her Were all concluded in a single praise, Scant would it be to serve the present turn.

Not only does the beauty I beheld Transcend ourselves, but truly I believe Its Maker only may enjoy it all.

Vanquished do I confess me by this passage More than by problem of his theme was ever O’ercome the comic or the tragic poet;

… noble works, Were wonder-struck, what time the Lateran Above all mortal things was eminent— I who to the divine had from the human, From time unto eternity, had come, From Florence to a people just and sane, With what amazement must I have been filled!

Truly between this and the joy, it was My pleasure not to hear, and to be mute.

And as a pilgrim who delighteth him In gazing round the temple of his vow, And hopes some day to retell how it was, So through the living light my way pursuing Directed I mine eyes o’er all the ranks, Now up, now down, and …

… who delighteth him In gazing round the temple of his vow, And hopes some day to retell how it was, So through the living light my way pursuing Directed I mine eyes o’er all the ranks, Now up, now down, and now all round about.

Faces I saw of charity persuasive, Embellished by His light and their own smile, And attitudes adorned with every grace.

The general form of Paradise already My glance had comprehended as a whole, In no part hitherto remaining fixed, And round I turned me with rekindled wish My Lady to interrogate of things Concerning which my mind was in suspense.

The general form of Paradise already My glance had comprehended as a whole, In no part hitherto remaining fixed, And round I turned me with rekindled wish My Lady to interrogate of things Concerning which my mind was in suspense.

One thing I meant, another answered me; I thought I should see Beatrice, and saw An Old Man habited like the glorious people.

O’erflowing was he in his eyes and cheeks With joy benign, in attitude of pity As to a tender father is becoming. And “She, where is she?” instantly I said; Whence he:

… thou in whom my hope is strong, And who for my salvation didst endure In Hell to leave the imprint of thy feet, Of whatsoever things I have beheld, As coming from thy power and from thy goodness I recognise the virtue and the grace.

Thou from a slave hast brought me unto freedom, By all those ways, by all the expedients, Whereby thou hadst the power of doing it.

Preserve towards me thy magnificence, So that this soul of mine, which thou hast healed, Pleasing to thee be loosened from the body.” Thus I implored; and she, so far away, Smiled, as it seemed, and looked once more at me;

… as a swarm of bees, that sinks in flowers One moment, and the next returns again To where its labor is to sweetness turned, Sank into the great flower, that is adorned With leaves so many, and thence reascended To where its love abideth evermore.

Their faces had they all of living flame, And wings of gold, and all the rest so white No snow unto that limit doth attain.

From bench to bench, into the flower descending, They carried something of the peace and ardor Which by the fanning of their flanks they won.

“Thou Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son, Humble and high beyond all other creature, The limit fixed of the eternal counsel,

Thou art the one who such nobility To human nature gave, that its Creator Did not disdain to make himself its creature.

Within thy womb rekindled was the love, By heat of which in the eternal peace After such wise this flower has germinated. Here unto us thou art a noonday torch Of charity, and below there among mortals Thou art the living fountainhead of hope.

From that time forward what I saw was greater Than our discourse, that to such vision yields, And yields the memory unto such excess.

Even as he is who seeth in a dream, And after dreaming the imprinted passion Remains, and to his mind the rest returns not,

Even such am I, for almost utterly Ceases my vision, and distilleth yet Within my heart the sweetness born of it;

Even as he is who seeth in a dream, And after dreaming the imprinted passion Remains, and to his mind the rest returns not, Even such am I, for almost utterly Ceases my vision, and distilleth yet Within my heart the sweetness born of it;

Even thus the snow is in the sun unsealed, Even thus upon the wind in the light leaves Were the soothsayings of the Sibyl lost.

O Light Supreme, that dost so far uplift thee From the conceits of mortals, to my mind Of what thou didst appear re-lend a little, And make my tongue of so great puissance, That but a single sparkle of thy glory It may bequeath unto …

In presence of that light one such becomes, That to withdraw therefrom for other prospect It is impossible he e’er consent; Because the good, which object is of will, Is gathered all in this, and out of it That is defective which is perfect there.

Shorter henceforward will my language fall Of what I yet remember, than an infant’s Who still his tongue doth moisten at the breast.

Not because more than one unmingled semblance Was in the living light on which I looked, For it is always what it was before;

Within thy womb rekindled was the love, By heat of which in the eternal peace After such wise this flower has germinated. Here unto us thou art a noonday torch Of charity, and below there among mortals Thou art the living fountainhead of hope.

Lady, thou art so great, and so prevailing, That he who wishes grace, nor runs to thee, His aspirations without wings would fly.

Not only thy benignity gives succor To him who asketh it, but oftentimes Forerunneth of its own accord the asking. In thee compassion is, in thee is pity, In thee magnificence; in thee unites Whate’er of goodness is in any creature.

… the deep and luminous subsistence Of the High Light appeared to me three circles, Of threefold color and of one dimension, And by the second seemed the first reflected As Iris is by Iris, and the third Seemed fire that equally from both is breathed.

O how all speech is feeble and falls short Of my conceit, and this to what I saw Is such, ’tis not enough to call it little!

O Light Eterne, sole in thyself that dwellest, Sole knowest thyself, and, known unto thyself And knowing, lovest and smilest on thyself!

O how all speech is feeble and falls short Of my conceit, and this to what I saw Is such, ’tis not enough to call it little!

O Light Eterne, sole in thyself that dwellest, Sole knowest thyself, and, known unto thyself And knowing, lovest and smilest on thyself!

That circulation, which being thus conceived Appeared in thee as a reflected light, When somewhat contemplated by mine eyes, Within itself, of its own very color Seemed to me painted with our effigy, Wherefore my sight was all absorbed therein.

Here unto us thou art a noonday torch Of charity, and below there among mortals Thou art the living fountainhead of hope. Lady, thou art so great, and so prevailing, That he who wishes grace, nor runs to thee, His aspirations without wings would fly.

Not only thy benignity gives succor To him who asketh it, but oftentimes Forerunneth of its own accord the asking.

In thee compassion is, in thee is pity, In thee magnificence; in thee unites Whate’er of goodness is in any creature.

Lady, thou art so great, and so prevailing, That he who wishes grace, nor runs to thee, His aspirations without wings would fly. Not only thy benignity gives succor To him who asketh it, but oftentimes Forerunneth of its own accord the asking.

In thee compassion is, in thee is pity, In thee magnificence; in thee unites Whate’er of goodness is in any creature.

Now doth this man, who from the lowest depth Of the universe as far as here has seen One after one the spiritual lives, Supplicate thee through grace for so much power That with his eyes he may uplift himself Higher towards the uttermost salvation.