b20762605_v_2_C041197035

THE
D I V I N E C O M E D Y
OF
D A N T E A L IG H IE R I
TRANSLATED BY
HENRY W A D SW ORTH LONGFELLOW
I follow here the footing of thy feete

That with thy meaning so I may the rather meete
Spenser.
B O S T O N
F IE L D S , O S G O O D , & CO
SUCCESSORS TO TICKNOR AND FIELDS
1871
En tered accordin g to A c t o f C on gress, in th e year 1 8 6 7 , by
H E N R Y W A D SW O R TH LO N GFELLOW ,
th e C le r k ’s O ffice o f th e D istrict C o u rt o f th e D istrict o f M assach u setts.
U n iv e r s it y P r e s s : W e lc h , B ig e lo w , & Co.,
C a m b r id g e .
CONTENTS
OF V O L . II.
PURGATORIO.
CANTO I.
Page
The Shores of Purgatory. — Cato of Utica . I
CANTO II.
The Celestial Pilot. — C a s e l l a ..............................................................................7
CANTO III.
The Foot of the Mountain. — Those who have died in Contumacy of Holy
Church. — M a n f r e d i .......................................................................................13
CANTO IV.
Farther Ascent of the Mountain. — The Negligent, who postponed Repentance

till the last Hour. — Belacqua . . . . . . . . . 20
CANTO V.
Those who died by Violence, but repentant. — Buonconte di Montefeltro. —

La P i a ................................................................................................................ 26
CANTO VI .
S o r d e l l o ................................................................................................................ 32
CANTO VII.
The Valley of the Princes 39

IV Contents
CANTO VIII.
The Guardian Angels and the Serpent. — Nino di Gallura. — Currado Ma-
la s p in a ................................................................................................................ 45
CANTO IX.
Dante’s Dream of the Eagle. — The Gate of P u r g a t o r y ................................... 51
CANTO X.
The First Circle. — The Proud. — The Sculptures on the Wall . . . 58
CANTO XI .
Omberto di Santafiore. — Oderisi d’ Agobbio. — Provenzan Salvani. . .6 4
CANTO XII.
The Sculptures on the Pavement. — Ascent to the Second Circle . . .7 1
CANTO XIII.
The Second Circle. — The Envious. — Sapia of S i e n a ...................................77
CANTO XIV.
Guido del Duca and Renier da C a l b o l i .............................................................84
CANTO XV.
The Third Circle. — The I r a s c i b l e ......................................................................91
CANTO XVI.
Marco Lombardo........................................................................................................98
CANTO XVII.
Dante’s Dream of Anger. — The Fourth Circle. — The Slothful . . . 1 05

Contents v
CANTO XVIII.
Virgil’s Discourse of Love. — The Abbot of San Z e n o ...................................111
CANTO XIX.
Dante’s Dream of the Siren. — The Fifth Circle. — The Avaricious and Prod
igal. — Pope Adrian V ...................................................................................... 1 18
CANTO XX.
Hugh Capet. — The E a r t h q u a k e ......................................................................125
CANTO XXI.
The Poet S t a t i u s .............................................................................. ........ 132
CANTO XXII.
The Sixth Circle. — The Gluttonous. — The Mystic Tree . . . .138
CANTO XXIII.
F o r e s e ................................................................................................................ 145
CANTO XXIV.
Buonagiunta da Lucca. — Pope Martin IV., and o t h e r s ...................................151
CANTO XXV.
Discourse of Statius on Generation. — The Seventh Circle. — The Wanton . 158
CANTO XXVI.
Guido Guinicelli and Arnaldo D a n i e l l o .............................................................164
CANTO XXVII.
Dante’s Sleep upon the Stairway, and his Dream of Leah. — Arrival at the
Terrestrial P a r a d is e .......................................................................................171
VI Contents
CANTO XXVIII.
The Terrestrial Paradise. — The River Lethe. — Matilda . . . .178
CANTO XXIX.
The Triumph of the Church .............................................................................. 185
CANTO XXX.
B e a t r i c e ................................................................................................................ 192
CANTO XXXI.
Reproaches of Beatrice and Confession of Dante. — The Passage of Lethe . 199
CANTO XXXII.
The Tree of K n o w l e d g e .......................................................................................... 206
CANTO XXXIII.
The River E u n o e ................................................................................................... 213
NOTES ....................................................................................................221
IL L U S T R A T IO N S .
The Hero as P o e t ............................................................... ......... . . . 365
D a n t e ............................................................................................................ 375
Dante and M i l t o n .......................................................................................... 382
The Italian Pilgrim’s P r o g r e s s ............................................................... 384
Dante and T a c i t u s ...........................................................................................39°
Dante’s L a n d s c a p e s ................................................................................. 394
Dante’s C r e e d ................................................................................................... 4QI
The Divina C o m m e d ia ................................................................................. 4°3
E N T E R , and I see thee in the gloom
I O f the long aisles, O poet saturnine !

A n d strive to make my steps keep pace with thine.
T h e air is filled with some unknown perfume ;
T h e congregation o f the dead make room
F or thee to pass ; the votive tapers shine ;
L ike rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves o f pine
T h e hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb.
From the confessionals I hear arise
Rehearsals o f forgotten tragedies,
A n d lamentations from the crypts b e lo w ;
And then a voice celestial that begins
W ith the pathetic words, “ Although your sins
A s scarlet be,” and ends with “ as the snow .”
" T ^ T IT H snow-white veil and garments as o f flame,
She stands before thee, who so long ago
Filled thy young heart with passion and the woe
From which thy song and all its splendors came ;
A nd while with stern rebuke she speaks thy name,
T h e ice about thy heart melts as the snow
O n mountain heights, and in swift overflow
Comes gushing from thy lips in sobs o f shame.
T hou makest full confession ; and a gleam,
A s o f the dawn on some dark forest cast,
Seems on thy lifted forehead to increase ;
Lethe and Eunoe — the remembered dream
A nd the forgotten sorrow — bring at last
T h at perfect pardon which is perfect peace.
PURGATORIO
P URGA T ORI O.
CANTO I.
' J ' O run o’er better waters hoists its sail

T h e little vessel o f m y genius now,
T h a t leaves behind itself a sea so c ru e l;
A n d o f that second kingdom w ill I sing
W herein the human spirit doth purge itself,
A nd to ascend to heaven becom eth worthy.
But let dead Poesy here rise again,
O holy Muses, since that I am yours,
A nd here Calliope somewhat ascend,
M y song accom panying w ith that sound,
O f w h ich the miserable magpies felt
T h e blow so great, that they despaired o f pardon.
Sweet color o f the oriental sapphire,
T h a t was upgathered in the cloudless aspect
O f the pure air, as far as the first circle,
2 The Divine Comedy
U nto mine eyes did recom m ence delight
Soon as I issued forth from the dead air,
W h ic h had w ith sadness filled mine eyes and breast.
T h e beauteous planet, that to love incites,
W as m aking all the orient to laugh, 20
V eiling the Fishes that were in her escort.
T o the right hand I turned, and fixed m y mind
Upon the other pole, and saw four stars
N e ’er seen before save by the primal people.
' R ejoicing in their flamelets seemed the heaven. *s
O thou septentrional and widowed site,
Because thou art deprived o f seeing th ese!
W h en from regarding them I had withdrawn,
T u rning a little to the other pole,
T h ere where the W ain had disappeared already, 30
I saw beside me an old man alone,
W orth y o f so m uch reverence in his look,
T h a t more owes not to father any son.
A long beard and w ith w hite hair interm ingled
H e wore, in semblance like unto the tresses, 35
O f w h ich a double list fell on his breast.
T h e rays o f the four consecrated stars
D id so adorn his countenance w ith light,
T h a t him I saw as were the sun before him.
Purgatorio i.
“ W h o are you ? ye w ho, counter the blind river,
H ave fled away from the eternal prison ? ”
M o vin g those venerable plumes, he sa id :
“ W h o guided you ? or who' has been your lamp
In issuing forth out o f the night profound,
T h a t ever black makes the infernal valley ?
T h e laws o f the abyss, are they thus broken ?
O r is there changed in heaven some counsel new,
T h a t being damned ye come unto m y grottos ? ”
T h e n did m y Leader lay his grasp upon me,
A nd w ith his words, and w ith his hands and signs,
Reverent he made in me m y knees and b r o w ;
T h en answered him : “ I came not o f m yself;
A Lady from Heaven descended, at whose prayers
I aided this one w ith m y company.
But since it is thy w ill more be unfolded
O f our condition, how it truly is,
M ine cannot be that this should be denied thee.
T h is one has never his last evening seen,
But by his folly was so near to it
T h a t very little time was there to turn.
A s I have said, I unto him was sent
T o rescue him , and other w ay was none
T h an this to w h ich I have m yself betaken.
4 The Divine Comedy
1 5ve shown him all the people o f perdition,
A nd now those spirits I intend to show
W h o purge themselves beneath thy guardianship.
H ow I have brought him would be long to tell thee.
Virtue descendeth from on high that aids me
T o lead him to behold thee and to hear thee.
N o w may it please thee to vouchsafe his com in g;
H e seeketh L iberty, w h ich is so dear,
As know eth he w ho life for her refuses.
T h o u kn ow ’st i t ; since, for her, to thee not bitter
W as death in U tica, w here thou didst leave
T h e vesture, that w ill shine so, the great day.
B y us the eternal edicts are not b ro k en ;
Since this one lives, and M inos binds not m e;
But o f that circle I, w here are the chaste
Eyes o f thy M arcia, w ho in looks still prays thee,
0 holy breast, to hold her as thine o w n ;
For her love, then, incline thyself to us.
Perm it us through thy sevenfold realm to g o ;
1 w ill take back this grace from thee to her,
I f to be mentioned there below thou deignest.”
“ M arcia so pleasing was unto mine eyes
W h ile I was on the other side,” then said he,
“ T h at every grace she wished o f me I granted;
Purgatorio i. 5
N o w that she dwells beyond the evil river,
She can no longer move me, by that law
W h ich , when I issued forth from there, was made: 90
But i f a L ady o f Heaven do move and rule thee,
As thou dost say, no flattery is neecjful;
L et it suffice thee that for her thou ask me.
G o, then, and see thou gird this one about
's
W ith a smooth rush, and that thou wash his face, 95
So that thou cleanse away all stain therefrom,
F or ’tw e re not fitting that the eye o’ercast
B y any mist should go before the first
A n gel, w ho is o f those o f Paradise.
T h is little island round ^bout its base 100
Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it,
D oth rushes bear upon its washy ooze ;
N o other plant that putteth forth the leaf,
O r that doth indurate, can there have life,
Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks. 105
Thereafter be not this w ay your retu rn ;
T h e sun, w h ich now is rising, w ill direct you
T o take the mount by easier ascent.”
W ith this he vanished; and I raised me up
W ithout a word, and w holly drew m yself no
U nto m y Guide, and turned mine eyes to him.
6 The Divine Comedy
A nd he began : “ Son, follow thou m y steps ;
L et us turn back, for on this side declines
T h e plain unto its low er boundaries.”
T h e dawn was vanquishing the matin hour
W h ich fled before it, so that from afar
I recognized the trem bling o f the sea.
A lon g the solitary plain we went
As one w ho unto the lost road returns,
A nd till he finds it seems to go in vain.
As soon as w e were come to where the dew
Fights w ith the sun, and, being in a part
W here shadow falls, little evaporates,
Both o f his hands upon the grass outspread
In gentle manner did m y Master p la c e ;
W hen ce I, w ho o f his action was aware,
Extended unto him my tearful ch e e k s;
Th ere did he make in me uncovered w h olly
T h a t hue w hich H ell had covered up in me.
T h en came w e down upon the desert shore
W h ich never yet saw navigate its waters
A n y that afterward had know n return.
T h ere he begirt me as the other pleased ;
O m arvellous! for even as he culled
T h e humble plant, such it sprang up again
Suddenly there where he uprooted it.
CANTO II.
^ J L R E A D Y had the sun the horizon reached

W hose circle o f meridian covers o’er
Jerusalem w ith its most lofty point,
A nd night that opposite to him revolves
W as issuing forth from Ganges w ith the Scales
T h a t fall from out her hand when she exceed eth ;
So that the w hite and the verm ilion cheeks
O f beautiful Aurora, w here I was,
B y too great age were changing into orange.
W e still w ere on the border o f the sea,
L ik e people w ho are thinking o f their road,
W h o go in heart, and w ith the body sta y ;
A nd l o ! as when, upon the approach o f morning,
T h ro u gh the gross vapors Mars grows fiery red
D ow n in the W est upon the ocean floor,
Appeared to me — may I again behold i t ! —
A ligh t along the sea so sw iftly com ing,
Its motion by no flight o f w ing is equalled;
8 The Divine Comedy
From w hich when I a little had w ithdraw n
M ine eyes, that I m ight question m y Conductor,
A gain I saw it brighter grow n and larger.
T hen on each side o f it appeared to me
I knew not w hat o f white, and underneath it
L ittle by little there came forth another.
M y master yet had uttered not a word
W h ile the first whiteness into wings unfolded ;
But when he clearly recognized the pilot,
H e cried : “ M ake haste, m ake haste to bow the k n e e !
Behold the A n gel o f God ! fold thou thy hands!
H enceforward shalt thou see such officers!
See how he scorneth human arguments,
So that nor oar he wants, nor other sail
T h an his own wings, between so distant shores.
See how he holds them pointed up to heaven,
Fanning the air w ith the eternal pinions,
T h a t do not moult themselves like mortal h a ir ! ”
T h en as still nearer and more near us came
T h e Bird Divine, more radiant he appeared,
So that near by the eye could not endure him,
But down I cast i t ; and he came to shore
W ith a small vessel, very swift and light,
So that the water swallowed naught thereof.
Purgatorio n. ,| r ; 9
Upon the stern stood the Celestial P ilo t ;

Beatitude seemed written in his face,
A nd more than a hundred spirits sat w ithin. 45
“ In exitu Israel de /Egypt0! ”
T h e y chanted all together in one voice,

W ith whatso in that psalm is after written.
T h en made he sign o f holy rood upon them,
W hereat all cast themselves upon the shore, 5°
A nd he departed sw iftly as he came.
T h e throng w hich still remained there unfamiliar
Seemed w ith the place, all round about them gazing,
A s one w ho in new matters makes essay.
O n every side was darting forth the day 55
T h e sun, w ho had w ith his resplendent shafts
From the mid-heaven chased forth the Capricorn,
W h en the new people lifted up their faces
Towards us, saying to u s : “ I f ye know,
Show us the w ay to go unto the mountain.” 60
A nd answer made V irgiliu s; “ Y e believe
Perchance that w e have know ledge o f this place,
But w e are strangers even as yourselves.
Just now w e came, a little w hile before you,
A nother way, w h ich was so rough and steep, (>s
T h a t m ounting w ill henceforth seem sport to us.”
IO The Divine Comedy
T h e souls w ho had, from seeing me draw breath,
Becom e aware that I was still alive,
Pallid in their astonishment b ecam e;
A nd as to messenger w ho bears the olive
T h e people throng to listen to the news,
A nd no one shows him self afraid o f crowding,
So at the sight o f me stood motionless
Those fortunate spirits, all o f them , as i f
Oblivious to go and make them fair.
One from among them saw I com ing forward,
As to embrace me, w ith such great affection,
T h a t it incited me to do the like.
0 empty shadows, save in aspect o n ly !
/ T h ree times behind it did I clasp m y hands,
As oft returned w ith them to m y own breast!
1 think w ith wonder I depicted m e ;
W hereat the shadow smiled and backward d re w ;
A nd I, pursuing it, pressed farther forward.
G ently it said that I should stay my steps;
T h en knew I who it was, and I entreated
T h a t it would stop aw hile to speak w ith me.
It made reply to m e : “ Even as I loved thee
In mortal body, so I love thee fr e e ;
Therefore I stop ; but wherefore goest thou ? ”
Purgatorio i t .
“ M y own C asella! to return once more
T h ere where I am, I m ake this journey,” said I ;
“ But how from thee has so much time been tak en ?”
A nd he to m e : “ N o outrage has been done m e,.
I f he w ho takes both when and w hom he pleases 9s
Has many times denied to me this passage,
For o f a righteous w ill his own is made.
H e, sooth to say, for three months past has taken
W hoever wished to enter w ith all p ea ce;
W hen ce I, w ho now had turned unto that shore 100
W here salt the waters o f the T ib er grow,
Benignantly by him have been received.
U nto that outlet now his w ing is pointed,
Because for evermore assemble there
T hose w ho tow ’rds Acheron do not descend.” 105
A nd I : “ I f some new law take not from thee
M em ory or practice o f the amorous song,
W h ic h used to quiet in me all my longings,
T h ee may it please to com fort therewithal
Som ewhat this soul o f mine, that w ith its body no
H itherw ard com ing is so m uch distressed.”
“ Love, that within my mind discourses with m e”
F orth w ith began he so melodiously,
T h e melody w ithin me still is sounding.
12 The Divine Comedy
M y Master, and myself, and all that people
W h ich w ith him were, appeared as satisfied
As i f naught else m ight touch the mind o f any.
W e all o f us were motionless and attentive
U nto his notes ; and lo ! the grave old man,
E xclaim in g: “ W hat is this, ye laggard spirits?
W h at negligence, w hat standing still is this ?
Run to the mountain to strip off the slough,
T h a t lets not God be manifest to you.”
Even as when, collecting grain or tares,
T h e doves, together at their pasture met,
Q uiet, nor showing their accustomed pride,
I f aught appear o f w hich they are afraid,
U pon a sudden leave their food alone,
Because they are assailed by greater c a re ;
So that fresh company did I behold
T h e song relinquish, and go to w ’rds the hill,
As one w ho goes, and knows not w h ith erw ard ;
N o r was our own departure less in haste.
CANTO III.
J N A S M U C H as the instantaneous flight

H ad scattered them asunder o’er the plain,
Turned to the mountain w hither reason spurs us,
I pressed me close unto m y faithful comrade,
A nd how w ithout him had I kept m y course ?
W h o would have led me up along the mountain ?
H e seemed to me w ithin him self rem orseful;
O noble conscience, and without a stain,
H o w sharp a sting is trivial fault to th e e !
A fter his feet had laid aside the haste
W h ich mars the dignity o f every act,
M y mind, that hitherto had been restrained,
L et loose its faculties as i f delighted,
A nd I m y sight directed to the hill
T h a t highest tow ’rds the heaven uplifts itself.
T h e sun, that in our rear was flaming red,
W as broken in front o f me into the figure
W h ic h had in me the stoppage o f its ra ys;
U nto one side I turned me, w ith the fear
O f being left alone, w hen I beheld 20
O nly in front o f me the ground obscured.
“ W h y dost thou still mistrust ? ” m y Com forter
Began to say to me turned w h o lly round ; [thee ?
“ Dost thou not think me w ith thee, and that I guide
’T is evening there already where is buried 25
T h e body w ithin w hich I cast a shadow ;
’ T is from Brundusium ta’en, and Naples has it.
N o w i f in front o f me no shadow fall,
M arvel not at it more than at the heavens,
Because one ray impedeth not another. 30
T o suffer torments, both o f cold and heat,
Bodies like this that Power provides, w h ich wills
T h a t how it works be not unveiled to us.
Insane is he w ho hopeth that our reason
Can traverse the illim itable way, 35
W h ich the one Substance in three Persons fo llo w s!

Mortals, remain contented at the Q uia ;
F or i f ye had been able to see all,
N o need there were for M ary to give b ir th ;
A nd ye have seen desiring without fruit, 40
Those whose desire would have been quieted,
W h ich evermore is given them for a grief.
Purgatorio ///. 15
I speak o f Aristotle and o f Plato,
A nd others many ” ; — and here he bowed his head,
A nd more he said not, and remained disturbed. 45
W e came m eanwhile unto the mountain’s foot;
T h ere so precipitate we found the rock,
T h a t nimble legs would there have been in vain.
*Tw ixt L erici and Turbia, the most desert,
T h e most secluded pathway is a stair 50
Easy and open, i f compared w ith that.
“ W h o know eth now upon w h ich hand the hill
Slopes dow n/’ m y Master said, his footsteps staying,
“ So that w ho goeth w ithout wings may m ou n t?”
A nd w hile he held his eyes upon the ground 55
Exam ining the nature o f the path,
A nd I was looking up around the rock,
On the left hand appeared to me a throng
O f souls, that moved their feet in our direction,
A nd did not seem to move, they came so slowly. 60
“ L ift up thine eyes,” I to the Master said;
“ Behold, on this side, w ho w ill give us counsel,
I f thou o f thine own self can have it not.”
T h en he looked at me, and w ith frank expression
Replied : “ L et us go there, for they come slowly, 65
A nd thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son.”
The Divine Comedy
Still was that people as far o ff from us,
A fter a thousand steps o f ours I say,
As a good thrower w ith his hand would reach,
W hen they all crowded unto the hard masses
O f the high bank, and motionless stood and close,
As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.
“ O happy dead ! O spirits elect already ! ”
Virgilius made beginning, “ by that peace
W h ich I believe is w aiting for you all,
T e ll us upon what side the mountain slopes,
So that the going up be possible,
t
For to lose time irks him most who most know s.”
As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold
By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand
T im id ly, holding down their eyes and nostrils,
And what the foremost does the others do,
H uddling themselves against her, i f she stop,
Simple and quiet and the wherefore know n o t;
So m oving to approach us thereupon
I saw the leader o f that fortunate flock,
Modest in face and dignified in gait.
As soon as those in the advance saw broken
T h e light upon the ground at my right side,
So that from me the shadow reached the rock,
Purgatorio hi. \ 17
T h e y stopped, and backward drew themselves som ew hat;

And all the others, w ho came after them,
N o t know ing w h y nor wherefore, did the same.
“ W ithout your asking, I confess to you
T h is is a human body w h ich you see, 95
W hereb y the sunshine on the ground is cleft.

M arvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded
T h a t not without a power w h ich comes from Heaven
D oth he endeavor to surmount this w all.”
T h e M aster thus ; and said those w orthy people : 100
“ Return ye then, and enter in before us,”
M akin g a signal w ith the back o’ the hand.
A nd one o f them began : “ W h o e ’er thou art,
T hus going turn thine eyes, consider w ell
I f e’er thou saw me in the other w orld.” i°s
I turned me tow ’rds him , and looked at him c lo s e ly ;
Blond was he, beautiful, and o f noble aspect,
But one o f his eyebrows had a blow divided.
W h en w ith hum ility I had disclaimed
fe’er having seen him , “ N o w b eh o ld !” he said, no
A nd showed me high upon his breast a wound.
T h en said he w ith a sm ile : “ I am M anfredi,
T h e grandson o f the Emperess Costanza ;
Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee
G o to m y daughter beautiful, the m other
O f Sicily’s honor and o f A ragon’s,
A nd the truth tell her, i f aught else be told.
A fter I had m y body lacerated
B y these two mortal stabs, I gave m yself
W eeping to H im , w ho w illin gly doth pardon.
H orrible m y iniquities had b e e n ;
But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms,
T h a t it receives whatever turns to it.
H ad but Cosenza’s pastor, w ho in chase
O f me was sent by Clem ent at that time,
In G od read understanding^ this page,
T h e bones o f m y dead body still would be
A t the bridge-head, near unto Benevento,
U nder the safeguard o f the heavy cairn.
N o w the rain bathes and m oveth them the wind,
Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde,
W h ere he transported them w ith tapers quenched.
B y malison o f theirs is not so lost
Eternal Love, that it cannot return,
So long as hope has anything o f green.
T ru e is it,7 w ho in contumacv* dies
O f H o ly Church, though penitent at last,
M ust wait upon the outside o f this bank
Purgatorio ///.
T h irty times told the tim e that he has been

In his presumption, unless such decree
Shorter by means o f righteous prayers become.
See now i f thou hast power to m ake me happy,
B y m aking known unto m y good Costanza
H o w thou hast seen me, and this ban beside,
F or those on earth can m uch advance us here.”
I
CANTO I F.
" y ^ H E N E V E R by delight or else by pain,

T h at seizes any faculty o f ours,
W h o lly to that the soul collects itself,
It seemeth that no other power it heeds ;
A nd this against that error is w h ich thinks 5
One soul above another kindles in us.
A nd hence, whenever aught is heard or seen
W h ich keeps the soul intently bent upon it,
T im e passes on, and we perceive it not,
Because one faculty is that w h ich listens, 10
And other that w h ich the soul keeps entire ;
T h is is as i f in bonds, and that is free.
O f this I had experience positive
In hearing and in gazing at that sp irit;
For fifty full degrees uprisen was is
T h e sun, and I had not perceived it, when
W e came to w here those souls w ith one accord
Cried out unto us : “ H ere is what you ask.”
Purgatorio iv.
A greater opening ofttimes hedges up
W ith but a little forkful o f his thorns
T h e villager, w hat time the grape imbrowns,
T h an was the passage-way through w h ich ascended
O nly m y Leader and m yself behind him,
A fter that company departed from us.
One climbs Sanleo and descends in N oli,
A nd mounts the summit o f Bismantova,
W ith feet a lo n e; but here one needs must f ly ;
W ith the swift pinions and the plumes I say
O f great desire, conducted after him
W h o gave me hope, and made a light for me.
W e mounted upward through the rifted rock,
A nd on each side the border pressed upon us,
A nd feet and hands the ground beneath required.
W h en w e were come upon the upper rim
O f the high bank, out on the open slope,
“ M y M aster,” said I, “ what w ay shall we take ? ”
A nd he to me : “ N o step o f thine descend ;
Still up the mount behind me win thy way,
T ill some sage escort shall appear to us.”
T h e summit was so high it vanquished sight,
A nd the hillside precipitous far more
T h an line from middle quadrant to the centre.
Spent w ith fatigue was I, when I began :
“ O m y sweet F ather! turn thee and behold
H o w I remain alone, unless thou sta y!”
“ O son,” he said, “ up yonder drag thyself,”
Pointing me to a terrace somewhat higher,
W h ich on that side encircles all the hill.
These words o f his so spurred me on, that I
Strained every nerve, behind him scram bling up,
U ntil the circle was beneath my feet.
Thereon ourselves w e seated both o f us
Turned to the East, from w hich w e had ascended,
For all men are delighted to look back.
T o the low shores mine eyes I first directed,
T h en to the sun uplifted them , and wondered
T h a t on the left hand we were smitten by it.
T h e Poet w ell perceived that I was w h olly
Bewildered at the chariot o f the light,
W h ere ’tw ixt us and the A quilon it entered.
W hereon he said to me : “ I f Castor and P ollux
W ere in the company o f yonder mirror,
T h at up and down conducteth w ith its light,
T h ou wouldst behold the zodiac’s jagged w heel
R evolving still more near unto the Bears,
Unless it swerved aside from its old track.
Purgatorio iv.
H o w that may be wouldst thou have power to think,
Collected in thyself, im agine Zion
T ogeth er w ith this mount on earth to stand,
So that they both one sole horizon have,
A nd hemispheres diverse; w hereby the road
W h ich Phaeton, alas! knew not to drive,
T h o u ’It see how o f necessity must pass
T h is on one side, when that upon the other,
I f thine intelligence right clearly heed.”
“ T ru ly, m y M aster/’ said I, “ never yet
Saw I so. clearly as I now discern,
T h ere where m y w it appeared incompetent,
T h a t the m id-circle o f supernal motion,
W h ich in some art is the Equator called,
A nd aye remains between the Sun and W inter,
F or reason w h ich thou sayest, departeth hence
T o w ’rds the Septentrion, what time the Hebrews
Beheld it tow ’rds the region o f the heat.
But, i f it pleaseth thee, I fain would learn
H o w far w e have to g o ; for the hill rises
H igh er than eyes o f mine have power to rise.
A nd he to m e : “ T h is mount is such, that ever
A t the beginning down b e lo w ’t is tiresome,
A nd aye the more one climbs, the less it hurts.
Therefore, when it shall seem so pleasant to thee,
T h a t going up shall be to thee as easy
As going down the current in a boat,
Then at this pathw ay’s ending thou w ilt b e ;
T h ere to repose thy panting breath e x p e c t; 95
N o more I answer; and this I know for true.”

A nd as he finished uttering these words,
A voice close by us sounded : “ Peradventure
T h o u w ilt have need o f sitting down ere that.”
A t sound thereof each one o f us turned round, 100
And saw upon the left hand a great rock,
W h ich neither I nor he before had noticed.
T h ith er we drew ; and there were persons there
W h o in the shadow stood behind the rock,
As one through indolence is wont to stand. 105
A nd one o f them, who seemed to me fatigued,
W as sitting down, and both his knees embraced,
H olding his face low down between them bowed.
“ O my sweet Lord,” I said, “ do turn thine eye
On him w ho shows him self more negligent no
Th an even i f Sloth herself his sister w ere.”
T h en he turned round to us, and he gave heed,
Just lifting up his eyes above his thigh,
And said : “ N o w go thou up, for thou art valiant.”
P u r gator io iv. 25
T h en knew I w ho he w a s; and the distress, 115
T h a t still a little did m y breathing quicken,
M y going to him hindered n o t; and after
I came to him he hardly raised his head,
Saying: “ Hast thou seen clearly how the sun
O ’er thy left shoulder drives his ch ariot?5’
H is sluggish attitude and his curt words
A little unto laughter moved m y lips;
T h en I began : “ Belacqua, I grieve not
F or thee henceforth; but tell me, wherefore seated
In this place art thou ? W aitest thou an escort ? 125
Or has thy usual habit seized upon th ee?”
A nd he : “ O brother, w K a t’s the use o f clim bing ?
Since to m y torment would not let me go
T h e A n gel o f God, w ho sitteth at the gate.
First heaven must needs so long revolve me round 13°
Outside thereof, as in m y life it did,
Since the good sighs I to the end postponed,
Unless, e’er that, some prayer may bring me aid
W h ic h rises from a heart that lives in g ra c e ;
W h at profit others that in heaven are heard n o t?” 135
M eanw hile the Poet was before me mounting,
A nd sayin g : “ Com e n o w ; see the sun has touched
Meridian, and from the shore the night
Covers already w ith her foot M orocco ? ”
CANTO V.
J H A D already from those shades departed,

And followed in the footsteps o f m y Guide,
W hen from behind, pointing his finger at me,
One shouted : “ See, it seems as i f shone not
T h e sunshine on the left o f him below, 5
A nd like one living seems he to conduct him ! ”
M ine eyes I turned at utterance o f these words,
A nd saw them w atching w ith astonishment
But me, but me, and the ligh t w h ich was b ro k en !
“ W h y doth thy mind so occupy itself/’ 10
T h e Master said, “ that thou thy pace dost slacken ?
W h at matters it to thee what here is whispered ?
Com e after me, and let the people talk ;
Stand like a steadfast tower, that never wags
Its top for all the blow ing o f the winds ; 15
F o r evermore the man in w hom is springing
T h o u g h t upon thought, removes from him the mark,
Because the force o f one the other weakens.”
Purgatorio v. 27
W h at could I say in answer but “ I co m e” ?

I said it somewhat w ith that color tinged 20
W h ic h makes a man o f pardon sometimes w orthy.
M eanw hile along the mountain-side across
Cam e people in advance o f us a little,
Singing the Miserere verse by verse.
W hen they became aware I gave no place *5
F or passage o f the sunshine through m y body,
T h e y changed their song into a long, hoarse “ O h ! ”
A nd two o f them , in form o f messengers,
Ran forth to meet us, and demanded o f us,
“ O f your condition m ake us cognizant.” 3°
A nd said m y M a ste r: “ Y e can go your way
A nd carry back again to those w ho sent you,
T h a t this one’s body is o f very flesh.
I f they stood still because they saw his shadow,
As I suppose, enough is answered them ; 3s
H im let them honor, it may profit them .”
Vapors enkindled saw I ne'er so sw iftly
A t early nightfall cleave the air serene,
N or, at the set o f sun, the clouds o f August,
But upward they returned in briefer time, 40
A nd, on arriving, w ith the others wheeled
T o w ’rds us, like troops that run w ithout a rein.
“ T h is folk that presses unto us is great,
A nd cometh to implore thee,” said the P o e t;
“ So still go onward, and in going listen.” 45
“ O soul that goest to beatitude
W ith the same members w herew ith thou wast born,”
Shouting they came, “ a little stay thy steps,
L ook, i f thou e’er hast any o f us seen,
So that o’er yonder thou bear news o f him ; 50
A h , w hy dost thou go on ? A h , w h y not stay ?
L on g since w e all were slain by violence,
A nd sinners even to the latest h o u r ;
T h en did a light from heaven admonish us,
So that, both penitent and pardoning, forth 55
From life we issued reconciled to God,
W h o w ith desire to see H im stirs our hearts.”
And I : “ Although I gaze into your faces,
N o one I recognize; but i f may please you
A ugh t I have power to do, ye w ell-born spirits, 60
Speak ye, and I w ill do it, by that peace
W h ich , follow ing the feet o f such a Guide,
From world to w orld makes itself sought by m e.”
A nd one began : “ E ach one has confidence
In thy good offices w ithout an oath, 65
Unless the I cannot cut o ff the I w ill;
Purgatorio v. V- 29
W hence I, w ho speak alone before the others,
Pray thee, i f ever thou dost see the land
T h a t ’tw ixt Rom agna lies and that o f Charles,
T h o u be so courteous to me o f thy prayers 70
In Fano, that they pray for me devoutly,
T h a t I may purge away m y grave offences.
From thence was I ; but the deep wounds, through which
Issued the blood wherein I had my seat,
W ere dealt me in bosom o f the Antenori, 75
T h ere where I thought to be the most secure;

’T was he o f Este had it done, w ho held me
In hatred far beyond what justice willed.
But i f towards the M ira I had fled,
W hen I was overtaken at Oriaco, *0
I still should be o’er yonder w here men breathe.
I ran to the lagoon, and reeds and mire
D id so entangle me I fell, and saw there
A lake made from m y veins upon the ground.”
T h en said another: “ A h , be that desire 85
Fulfilled that draws thee to the lofty mountain,
As thou w ith pious pity aidest mine.
I was o f M ontefeltro, and am Buonconte;
Giovanna, nor none other cares for m e ;
H en ce am ong these I go w ith downcast front.” 9°
And I to him : “ W h at violence or what chance
L ed thee astray so far from Campaldino,
T h a t never has thy sepulture been know n ? ”
“ O h ,” he replied, “ at Casentino’s foot
A river crosses named Archiano, born 95
Above the H erm itage in Apennine.

T h ere where the name thereof becom eth void
D id I arrive, pierced through and through the throat,
F leeing on foot, and bloodying the p la in ;
T h ere m y sight lost I, and m y utterance 100
D id in the name o f M ary end, and there
I fell, and tenantless m y flesh remained.
T ru th w ill I speak, repeat it to the liv in g ;
G od’s A ngel took me up, and he o f hell
Shouted: ‘ O thou from heaven, w h y dost thou rob me ?
T h o u bearest away the eternal part o f him , 106
F or one poor little tear, that takes him from m e;
But w ith the rest I ’11 deal in other fashion ! ’
W e ll knowest thou how in the air is gathered
T h a t humid vapor w h ich to water turns, no
Soon as it rises where the cold doth grasp it.
H e joined that evil w ill, w hich aye seeks evil,
T o intellect, and moved the mist and wind
B y means o f power, w h ich his own nature gave;
Purgatorio v
Thereafter, when the day was spent, the valley
From Pratomagno to the great yoke covered
W ith fog, and made the heaven above intent,
So that the pregnant air to water ch a n g ed ;
D ow n fell the rain, and to the gullies came
W h ate’er o f it earth tolerated n o t;
A nd as it m ingled w ith the m ighty torrents,
Tow ards the royal river w ith such speed
It headlong rushed, that nothing held it back.
M y frozen body near unto its outlet
T h e robust A rchian found, and into Arno
Thrust it, and loosened from m y breast the cross
I made o f me, when agony o’ercame m e ;
It rolled me on the banks and on the bottom ;
T h en w ith its booty covered and. begirt m e.”
“ A h , w hen thou hast returned unto the world,
A n d rested thee from thy long journeying,”
A fter the second follow ed the third spirit,
“ D o thou remember me w ho am the P ia ;
Siena made me, unmade me M a rem m a ;
H e know eth it, w ho had encircled first,
Espousing me, m y finger w ith his gem .” .
CANTO VI .
’Y ^ H E N E ’E R is broken up the game o f Zara,

H e w ho has lost remains behind despondent,
T h e throws repeating, and in sadness learns;
T h e people w ith the other all depart;
One goes in front, and one behind doth pluck him ,
A nd at his side one brings him self to mind ;
H e pauses not, and this and that one hears;
T h e y crowd no more to w hom his hand he stretch
A nd from the throng he thus defends himself.
Even such was I in that dense multitude,
T u rn in g to them this way and that m y face,
And, promising, I freed m yself therefrom .
T h ere was the Aretine, w ho from the arms
Untam ed o f G hin di T acco had his death,
A nd he w ho fleeing from pursuit was drowned.
T h ere was im ploring w ith his hands outstretched
F rederick N ovello, and that one o f Pisa
W h o made the good M arzucco seem so strong.
Purgatorio vi.
I saw Count O rso ; and the soul divided
B y hatred and by envy from its body,
A s it declared, and not for crim e com m itted,
Pierre de la Brosse I s a y ; and here provide
W h ile still on earth the L ad y o f Brabant,
So that for this she be o f no worse flo c k !
A s soon as I was free from all those shades
W h o only prayed that some one else may pray,
So as to hasten their becom ing holy,
Began I : “ It appears that thou deniest,
O ligh t o f mine, expressly in some text,
T h a t orison can bend decree o f H eaven ;
A nd ne’ertheless these people pray for this.
M ig h t then their expectation bootless be ?
O r is to me thy saying not quite clear ? ”
A nd he to me : “ M y w riting is explicit,
A nd not fallacious is the hope o f these,
I f w ith sane intellect ’t is w ell regarded ;
F or top o f judgm ent doth not vail itself,
Because the fire o f love fulfils at once
W h at he must satisfy w ho here installs him .
A nd there, where I affirmed that proposition,
D efect was not amended by a prayer,
Because the prayer from God was separate.
V erily, in so deep a questioning
D o not decide, unless she tell it thee,
W h o light ’tw ixt truth and intellect shall be.
I know not i f thou understand; I spe'ak
O f B eatrice; her shalt thou see above,
Sm iling and happy, on this mountain's top.”
And I : “ G ood Leader, let us m ake more haste,
For I no longer tire me as before;
A nd see, e’en now the hill a shadow casts.”
“ W e w ill go forward w ith this day,” he answered,
“ As far as now is possible for u s ;
But otherwise the fact is than thou thinkest.
Ere thou art up there, thou shalt see return
H im , w ho now hides him self behind the hill,
So that thou dost not interrupt his rays.
But yonder there b e h o ld ! a soul that stationed
A ll, all alone is looking h ith erw ard ;
It w ill point out to us the quickest w ay.”
W e came up unto it; O Lom bard soul,
H o w lofty and disdainful thou didst bear thee,
A nd grand and slow in m oving o f thine e y e s!
N oth in g whatever did it say to us,
But let us go our way, eying us only
A fter the manner o f a couchant lion ;
Purgatorio vi. 35
Still near to it Virgilius drew, entreating
T h a t it would point us out the best ascen t;
A nd it replied not unto his demand,
But o f our native land and o f our life 70
It questioned u s ; and the sweet Guide began :
“ M antua,” — and the shade, all in itself recluse,
Rose to w ’rds him from the place w here first it was,
Saying : “ O M antuan, I am Sordello
O f thine own lan d ! ” and one embraced the other. 75
A h ! servile Italy, g rie f’s hostelry !

A ship w ithout a pilot in great tem p est!
N o L ady thou o f Provinces, but b ro th e l!
T h a t noble soul was so impatient, only
A t the sweet sound o f his own native land, 80
T o m ake its citizen glad w elcom e th e re ;
A nd now w ithin thee are not w ithout war
T h y living ones, and one doth gnaw the other
O f those w hom one wall and one fosse shut i n !
Search, w retched one, all round about the shores 85
T h y seaboard, and then look w ithin thy bosom,
I f any part o f thee enjoyeth peace !
W h at boots it, that for thee Justinian
T h e bridle mend, i f em pty be the saddle ?
W ithouten this the shame would be the less. 90
A h ! people, thou that oughtest to be devout,
A nd to let Cassar sit upon the saddle,
I f w ell thou hearest what God teacheth thee,
Behold how fell this w ild beast has becom e,
Being no longer by the spur corrected,
Since thou hast laid thy hand upon the bridle.
O Germ an A lb e r t ! who abandonest
H er that has grown recalcitrant and savage,
A nd oughtest to bestride her saddle-bow,
M ay a just judgm ent from the stars down fall
Upon thy blood, and be it new and open,
T h at thy successor may have fear th ere o f;
Because thy father and thyself have suffered,
B y greed o f those transalpine lands distrained,
T h e garden o f the empire to be waste.
Com e and behold M ontecchi and Cappelletti,
M onaldi and Fillippeschi, careless m a n !
Those sad already, and these doubt-depressed!
Com e, cruel o n e ! come and behold the oppression
O f thy nobility, and cure their wounds,
A nd thou shalt see how safe is Santafiore!
C om e and behold thy Rom e, that is lam enting,
W idow ed, alone, and day and night exclaims,
“ M y Cassar, w h y hast thou forsaken me ? ”
Purgatorio vi. 37
Com e and behold how loving are the people; 115
A nd i f for us no pity m oveth thee,
Com e and be made ashamed o f thy ren o w n !
_ A nd i f it law ful be, O Jove Supreme!
W h o upon earth for us wast crucified,
A re thy just eyes averted otherwhere ? 120'
O r preparation i s ’t, that, in the abyss
O f thine own counsel, for some good thou makest
F rom our perception utterly cut off?
F or all the towns o f Italy are full
O f tyrants, and becom eth a M arcellus ^5
E ach peasant churl w ho plays the partisan!
M y F lo re n c e ! w ell m ayst thou contented be
W ith this digression, w h ich concerns thee not,
T hanks to thy people who such forethought ta k e !
M any at heart have justice, but shoot slowly, 13°
T h a t unadvised they com e not to the bow,
But on their very lips thy people have i t !
M any refuse to bear the comm on burden;
But thy solicitous people answereth
W ith out being asked, and crieth : “ I submit.” 1 35
N o w be thou joyful, for thou hast good reason ;

T h o u affluent, thou in peace, thou full o f wisdom !
I f I speak true, the event conceals it not.
Athens and Lacedasmon, they w ho made
T h e ancient laws, and were so civilized,
M ade towards living w ell a little sign
Com pared with thee, w ho makest such fine-spun
Provisions, that to m iddle o f N ovem ber
Reaches not w hat thou in O ctober spinnest.
H o w oft, w ithin the tim e o f thy remembrance,
Laws, money, offices, and usages
Hast thou remodelled, and renewed thy members?
A nd i f thou mind thee w ell, and see the light,
T h o u shalt behold thyself like a sick woman,
W h o cannot find repose upon her down,
But by her tossing wardeth off her pain.
CANTO VI I .
F T E R the gracious and glad salutations

H ad three and four times been reiterated,
Sordello backward drew and said, “ W h o are you ? ”
“ O r ever to this mountain w ere directed
T h e souls deserving to ascend to God, 5
M y bones were buried by Octavian.
I am V irg iliu s; and for no crim e else
D id I lose heaven, than for not having faith ” ;
In this wise then m y Leader made reply.
A s one w ho suddenly before him sees 10
Som ething whereat he marvels, w ho believes
A nd yet does not, saying, “ It is ! it is n o t ! ”
So he appeared; and then bowed down his brow,
A nd w ith hum ility returned towards him,
And, w here inferiors embrace, embraced him . 15
“ O glory o f the Latians, thou,” he said,
“ T h rough w hom our language showed what it could
O pride eternal o f the place I came from , [do,
W h at merit or what grace to me reveals thee ?
I f I to hear thy words be w orthy, tell me *o
I f thou dost come from H ell, and from w hat cloister.”
“ T h ro u gh all the circles o f the doleful realm ,”
Responded he, “ have I com e h ith erw ard ;
H eaven’s power im pelled me, and w ith that I come.
I by not doing, not by doing, lost *5
T h e sight o f that high sun w h ich thou desirest,
A nd w h ich too late by me was recognized.
A place there is below not sad w ith torments,
But darkness only, w here the lamentations
H ave not the sound o f w ailing, but are sighs. 3°
T h ere dw ell I w ith the little innocents
Snatched by the teeth o f D eath, or ever they
W ere from our human sinfulness exempt.
T h ere dw ell I among those who the three saintly
Virtues did not put on, and w ithout vice 3s
T h e others knew and followed all o f them.
But i f thou know and can, some indication
G ive us by w h ich w e may the sooner come
W h ere Purgatory has its right beginning.”
H e answered : “ N o fixed place has been assigned us ; 40
’T is lawful for me to go up and round;
So far as I can go, as guide I join thee.
Purgatorio v ii .
But see already how the day declines,
A n d to go up by night w e are not a b le ;
T herefore ’t is w ell to think o f some fair sojourn.
Souls are there on the right hand here w ith d raw n ;
I f thou perm it me I w ill lead thee to them,
A nd thou shalt know them not w ithout delight.”
“ H o w is this ?” was the answer ; “ should one wish
T o mount by night would he prevented be
B y others ? or mayhap w ould not have power ? ”
A nd on the ground the good Sordello drew
H is finger, saying, “ See, this line alone
T h o u couldst not pass after the sun is g o n e ;
N ot that aught else would hindrance give, however,
T o going up, save the nocturnal darkness;
T h is w ith the want o f power the w ill perplexes.
W e m ight indeed therew ith return below,
And, wandering, w alk the hill-side round about,
W h ile the horizon holds the day imprisoned.”
T hereon m y Lord, as i f in wonder, said :
“ D o thou conduct us thither, where thou sayest
T h a t w e can take delight in tarrying.”
L ittle had w e w ithdrawn us from that place,
W hen I perceived the mount was hollowed out
In fashion as the valleys here are hollowed.
“ T hitherw ard ,” said that shade, “ w ill w e repair,

W here o f itself the hill-side makes a lap,
A nd there for the new day w ill w e await.”
'T w ix t hill and plain there was a w inding path
W h ich led us to the margin o f that dell,
W here dies the border more than h a lf away.
G old and fine silver, and scarlet and pearl-white,
T h e Indian wood resplendent and serene,
Fresh emerald the moment it is broken,
B y herbage and by flowers w ithin that hollow
Planted, each one in color would be vanquished,
As by its greater vanquished is the less.
N o r in that place had nature painted only,
But o f the sweetness o f a thousand odors
M ade there a mingled fragrance and unknown.
“ Salve Regina,” on the green and flowers
T h ere seated, singing, spirits I beheld,
W h ich were not visible outside the valley.
“ Before the scanty sun now seeks his nest,”
Began the Mantuan w ho had led us thither,
“ A m ong them do not wish me to conduct you.
Better from off this ledge the acts and faces
O f all o f them w ill you discriminate,
T h an in the plain below received among them.
P u r gatorio vn. 43
H e w ho sits highest, and the semblance bears
O f having what he should have done neglected,
A nd to the others’ song moves not his lips,
Rudolph the Em peror was, who had the power
T o heal the wounds that Italy have slain, 95
So that through others slowly she revives.

T h e other, w ho in look doth comfort him ,
Governed the region w here the water springs,
T h e M oldau bears the Elbe, and Elbe the sea.
H is name was O tto c a r; and in swaddling-clothes 100
Far better he than bearded W inceslaus
His son, w ho feeds in luxury and ease.
A nd the small-nosed, w ho close in council seems
W ith him that has an aspect so benign,
D ied fleeing and disflowering the l i l y ; 105
L o o k there, how he is beating at his breast!
Behold the other one, w ho for his cheek
Sighing has made o f his own palm a b e d ;
Father and father-in-law o f France’s Pest
A re they, and know his vicious life and lewd, ”0
A nd hence proceeds the g rie f that so doth pierce them.
H e w ho appears so stalwart, and chimes in,
Singing, w ith that one o f the m anly nose,
T h e cord o f every valor wore b e g ir t;
A nd i f as K in g had after him remained

T h e stripling w ho in rear o f him is sitting,
W e ll had the valor passed from vase to vase,
W h ich cannot o f the other heirs be said.
Frederick and Jacom o possess the realms,
But none the better heritage possesses.
N o t oftentimes upriseth through the branches
T h e probity o f m a n ; and this H e wills
W h o gives it, so that w e may ask o f H im .
E k e to the large-nosed reach m y words, no less
Than to the other, Pier, w ho w ith him sings
W hence Provence and A pulia grieve already.
T h e plant is as inferior to its seed,
As more than Beatrice and M argaret
Costanza boasteth o f her husband still.
Behold the monarch o f the simple life,
H arry o f England, sitting there alone;
H e in his branches has a better issue.
H e w ho the lowest on the ground am ong them
Sits looking upward, is the M arquis W illiam ,
F or whose sake Alessandria and her war
M ake M onferrat and Canavese w eep.”
C A N T O VIII.
T W A S now the hour that turneth back desire

In those w ho sail the sea, and melts the heart,
T h e day they ’ve said to their sweet friends farewell,
A nd the new pilgrim penetrates w ith love,
I f he doth hear from far away a bell 5
T h a t seemeth to deplore the dying day,
W h en I began to m ake o f ao avail
M y hearing, and to w atch one o f the souls
Uprisen, that begged attention w ith its hand.
It joined and lifted upward both its palms, 10
F ix in g its eyes upon the orient,
A s i f it said to God, “ N aught else I care for.”
“ Te lucis ante ” so devoutly issued
F orth from its m outh, and w ith such dulcet notes,
It made me issue forth from m y own mind. 15
A n d then the others, sweetly and devoutly,
Accom panied it through all the hym n entire,
H aving their eyes on the supernal wheels.
H ere, Reader, fix thine eyes w ell on the truth,
F or now indeed so subtile is the veil,
Surely to penetrate w ithin is easy.
I saw that army o f the gentle-born
Thereafterw ard in silence upward gaze,
As i f in expectation, pale and h u m b le ;
A nd from on high come forth and down descend
I saw two A ngels w ith tw o flaming swords,
Truncated and deprived o f their points.
Green as the little leaflets just now born
T h eir garments were, w hich, by their verdant pini<
Beaten and blown abroad, they trailed behind.
O ne just above us came to take his station,
A nd one descended to the opposite bank,
So that the people were contained between them .
C learly in them discerned I the blond head;
But in their faces was the eye bewildered,
As faculty confounded by excess.
“ From M ary’s bosom both o f them have com e,”
Sordello said, “ as guardians o f the valley
Against the serpent, that w ill come anon.”
W hereupon I, w ho knew not by what road,
Turned round about, and closely drew myself,
U tterly frozen, to the faithful shoulders.
Purgatorio vm. 47
And once again Sordello : “ N o w descend we
"M id the grand shades, and w e w ill speak to th e m ;
R igh t pleasant w ill it be for them to see you.” 45
O nly three steps I think that I descended,
A nd was below, and saw one w ho was looking
O nly at me, as i f he fain would know me.
Already now the air was grow ing dark,
But not so that between his eyes and mine 5°
It did not show w hat it before locked up.
T o w ’rds me he moved, and I tow ’rds him did m ove;
N ob le Judge N in o ! how it me delighted,
W hen I beheld thee not among the damned !
N o greeting fair was left unsaid between us; 55
T h en asked he : “ H o w long is it since thou earnest
O ’er the far waters to the mountain’s foot ?”
“ O h ! ” said I to him , “ through the dismal places
I came this m o rn ; and am in the first life,
A lbeit the other, going thus, I gain.” 60
A nd on the instant my reply was heard,
H e and Sordello both shrank back from me,
L ik e people w ho are suddenly bewildered.
One to V irgilius, and the other turned
T o one w ho sat there, crying, “ Up, Currado ! 65
Com e and behold w hat God in grace has w ille d ! ”
T h en , turned to me : “ B y that especial grace
T h o u owest unto H im , w ho so conceals
H is own first wherefore, that it has no ford,
W h en thou shalt be beyond the waters wide, 7°
T e ll m y Giovanna that she pray for me,
W here answer to the innocent is made.
I do not think her mother loves me more,
Since she has laid aside her w im ple white,
W h ich she, unhappy, needs must wish again. is
T h ro u gh her full easily is comprehended
H o w long in wom an lasts the fire o f love,
I f eye or touch do not relight it often.
So fair a hatchm ent w ill not make for her
T h e Viper marshalling the M ilanese 80
A -field, as would have made Gallura’s C o c k .”
In this wise spake he, w ith the stamp impressed
U pon his aspect o f that righteous zeal
W h ich measurably burneth in the heart.
M y greedy eyes still wandered up to heaven ,. 85
Still to that point where slowest are the stars,
Even as a w heel the nearest to its axle.
A nd m y C o n d u cto r: “ Son, what dost thou gaze at
U p there ? ” And I to him : “ A t those three torches
W ith w hich this hither pole is all on fire.” 90
Purgatorio vm. 49
And he to m e : “ T h e four resplendent stars
T hou sawest this morning are down yonder low,
And these have mounted up to where those were.”
As he was speaking, to himself Sordello
Drew him, and said, “ L o there our Adversary!” 95
And pointed with his finger to look thither.

Upon the side on w hich the little valley
N o barrier hath, a serpent w as; perchance
T h e same w hich gave to Eve the bitter food.
"Tw ixt grass and flowers came on the evil streak, 100
Turning at times its head about, and licking
Its back like to a beast that smoothes itself.
I did not see, and therefore ^cannot say
H ow the celestial falcons *gan to move,
But well I saw that they were both in motion. 105
Hearing the air cleft by their verdant wings,
T h e serpent fled, and round the Angels wheeled,
U p to their stations flying back alike.
T h e shade that to the Judge had near approached
W hen he had called, throughout that whole assault no
Had not a moment loosed its gaze on me.
“ So may the light that leadeth thee on high
Find in thine own free-will as much o f wax
As needful is up to the highest azure,”
5 0 The Divine Comedy
Began it, “ i f some true intelligence 115
O f Valdimagra or its neighborhood
Thou knowest, tell it me, who once was great there.
Currado Malaspina was I called;
I ’m not the elder, but from him descended;
T o mine I bore the love w hich here refineth.” 120
“ O ,” said I unto him, “ through your domains
I never passed, but where is there a dwelling
Throughout all Europe, where they are not known ?
That fame, which doeth honor to your house,
Proclaims its Signors and proclaims its land, 125
So that he knows o f them who ne’er was there. .
And, as I hope for heaven, I swear to you
Your honored family in naught abates
T h e glory o f the purse and o f the sword.
It is so privileged by use and nature, 130
That though a guilty head misguide the world,
Sole it goes right, and scorns the evil way.”
And he : “ N ow go ; for the sun shall not lie
Seven times upon the pillow w hich the Ram
W ith all his four feet covers and bestrides, 135
Before that such a courteous opinion

Shall in the middle o f thy head be nailed
W ith greater nails than o f another’s speech,
Unless the course o f justice standeth still.”
CANTO I X.
concubine o f old Tithonus now

Gleamed white upon the eastern balcony,
Forth from the arms o f her sweet paramour;
W ith gems her forehead all relucent was,
Set in the shape o f that cold animal 5
W h ich with its tail doth smite amain the people,
And o f the steps, with w hich she mounts, the N ight
Had taken two in that place where we were,
And now the third was bending down its w in gs;
W hen I, who something had o f Adam in me, 10
Vanquished by sleep, upon the grass reclined,
There where all five o f us already sat.
Just at the hour when her sad lay begins
T h e little swallow, near unto the morning,
Perchance in memory o f her former woes, 15
And when the mind o f man, a wanderer
M ore from the flesh, and less by thought imprisoned,
Almost prophetic in its visions is,
In dreams it seemed to me I saw suspended
A n eagle in the sky, with plumes o f gold,
W ith wings wide open, and intent to stoop,
And this, it seemed to me, was where had been
By Ganymede his kith and kin abandoned,
W hen to the high consistory he was rapt.
I thought within myself, perchance he strikes
From habit only here, and from elsewhere
Disdains to bear up any in his feet.
Then wheeling somewhat more, it seemed to me,
Terrible as the lightning he descended,
And snatched me upward even to the fire.
Therein it seemed that he and I were burning,
And the imagined fire did scorch me so,
That o f necessity my sleep was broken.
N ot otherwise Achilles started up,
Around him turning his awakened eyes,
And knowing not the place in which he was,
W hat time from Chiron stealthily his mother
Carried him sleeping in her arms to Scyros,
Wherefrom the Greeks withdrew him afterwards,
Than I upstarted, when from off my face
Sleep fled a w a y; and pallid I became,
As doth the man who freezes with affright.
Purgatorio ix. 53
O nly my Comforter was at my side, ^

And now the sun was more than two hours high,
And turned towards the sea-shore was my face. 4s
“ Be not intimidated,” said my Lord,
“ Be reassured, for all is well with u s;
Do not restrain, but put forth all thy strength.
Thou hast at length arrived at Purgatory;
See there the cliff that closes it around ; 5°
See there the entrance, where it seems disjoined.
W hilom at dawn, w hich doth precede the day,
W hen inwardly thy spirit was asleep
Upon the flowers that deck the land below,
There came a Lady and said : 41 am Lucia ; 55
L et me take this one up, who is asleep;
So w ill I make his journey easier for him/
Sordello and the other noble shapes
Remained; she took thee, and, as day grew bright,
Upward she came, and I upon her footsteps. 60
She laid thee h e re ; and first her beauteous eyes
That open entrance pointed out to m e ;
Then she and sleep together went away.”
In guise o f one whose doubts are reassured,
And who to confidence his fear doth change, 65
After the truth has been discovered to him,
So did I change; and when without disquiet
M y Leader saw me, up along the cliff
H e moved, and I behind him, tow’rd the height.
Reader, thou seest well how I exalt
M y theme, and therefore i f with greater art
I fortify it, marvel not thereat.
Nearer approached we, and were in such place,
That there, where first appeared to me a rift
L ike to a crevice that disparts a wall,
I saw a portal, and three stairs beneath,
Diverse in color, to go up to it,
And a gate-keeper, who yet spake no word.
And as I opened more and more mine eyes,
I saw him seated on the highest stair,
Such in the face that I endured it not.
And in his hand he had a naked sword,
W h ich so reflected back the sunbeams tow’rds us,
That oft in vain I lifted up mine eyes.
“ T ell it from where you are, what is ’t you wish ?”
Began he to exclaim ; “ W here is the escort ?
Take heed your coming hither harm you n o t!”
“ A Lady o f Heaven, with these things conversant,”
M y Master answered him, “ but even now
Said to us, ‘ Thither go ; there is the portal/ ”
Purgatorio ix. '-v; 55
“ And may she speed your footsteps in all good,”

Again began the courteous janitor ;
“ Come forward then unto these stairs o f ours.”
Thither did we approach; and the first stair
Was marble white, so polished and so smooth, 95
I mirrored myself therein as I appear.
T h e second, tinct o f deeper hue than perse,
Was o f a calcined and uneven stone,
Cracked all asunder lengthwise and across.
T h e third, that uppermost rests massively, 100
Porphyry seemed to me, as flaming red
As blood that from a vein is spirting forth.
Both o f his feet was holding upon this
T h e Angel o f God, upon the threshold seated,
W h ich seemed to me a stone o f diamond. 105
Along the three stairs upward with good w ill
D id my Conductor draw me, saying: “ Ask
Hum bly that he the fastening may undo.”
Devoutly at the holy feet I cast me,
For mercy’s sake besought that he would open, no
But first upon my breast three times I smote.
Seven P ’s upon my forehead he described [wash
W ith the sword’s point, and, “ Take heed that thou
These wounds, when thou shalt be within,” he said.
Ashes, or earth that dry is excavated,
O f the same color were with his attire,
And from beneath it he drew forth two keys.
One was o f gold, and the other was o f silver;
First with the white, and after with the yellow,
Plied he the door, so that I was content.
“ Whenever faileth either o f these keys
So that it turn not rightly in the lock,”
H e said to us, “ this entrance doth not open.
More precious one is, but the other needs
More art and intellect ere it unlock,
For it is that w hich doth the knot unloose.
From Peter I have them ; and he bade me err
Rather in opening than in keeping shut,
I f people but fall down before my feet.”
Then pushed the portals o f the sacred door,
Exclaim ing : “ E n ter; but I give you warning
That forth returns whoever looks behind.”
And when upon their hinges were turned round
T h e swivels o f that consecrated gate,
W hich are o f metal, massive and sonorous,
Roared not so loud, nor so discordant seemed
Tarpeia, when was ta’en from it the good
Metellus, wherefore meagre it remained.
Purgatorio ix. 57
A t the first thunder-peal I turned attentive,

And “ Te Deum laudamus ” seemed to hear 140
In voices mingled with sweet melody.
Exactly such an image rendered me
Th at w hich I heard, as we are wont to catch,
W hen people singing with the organ stand;
For now we hear, and now hear not, the words. 145
8
CANTO X.
WHEN we had crossed the threshold o f the door

W hich the perverted love o f souls disuses,
Because it makes the crooked way seem straight,
Re-echoing I heard it closed again;
And if I had turned back mine eyes upon it,
W hat for my failing had been fit excuse ?
W e mounted upward through a rifted rock,
W h ich undulated to this side and that,
Even as a wave receding and advancing.
“ Here it behoves us use a little art,”
Began my Leader, “ to adapt ourselves
N o w here, now there, to the receding side.”
And this our footsteps so infrequent made,
That sooner had the moon’s decreasing disk
Regained its bed to sink again to rest,
Than we were forth from out that needle’s e y e ;
But when we free and in the open were,
There where the mountain backward piles itself,
Purgatorio x.
I wearied out, and both o f us uncertain
About our way, we stopped upon a plain
More desolate than roads across the deserts.
From where its margin borders on the void,
T o foot o f the high bank that ever rises,
A human body three times told would measure;
And far as eye o f mine could wing its flight,
N ow on the left, and on the right flank now,
T h e same this cornice did appear to me.
Thereon our feet had not been moved as yet,
« W hen I perceived the embankment round about,
W hich all right o f ascent had interdicted,
T o be o f marble white, and so adorned
W ith sculptures, that not only Polycletus,
But Nature’s self, had there been put to shame.
T h e Angel, who came down to earth with tidings
O f peace, that had been wept for many a year,
And opened Heaven from its long interdict,
In front o f us appeared so truthfully
There sculptured in a gracious attitude,
H e did not seem an image that is silent.
One would have sworn that he was saying, “ A v e
For she was there in effigy portrayed
W ho turned the key to ope the exalted love,
6o The Divine Comedy
And in her mien this language had impressed,
“ Ecce ancilla D ei ,” as distinctly
As any figure stamps itself in wax.
“ Keep not thy mind upon one place alone,”
T h e gentle Master said, who had me standing
Upon that side where people have their hearts;
Whereat I moved mine eyes, and I beheld
In rear o f Mary, and upon that side
W here he was standing who conducted me,
Another story on the rock imposed;
W herefore I passed Virgilius and drew near,
So that before mine eyes it m ight be set.
There sculptured in the self-same marble were
T h e cart and oxen, drawing the holy ark,
Wherefore one dreads an office not appointed.
People appeared in front, and all o f them
In seven choirs divided, o f two senses
Made one say, “ N o,” the other, “ Yes, they sing.”
Likewise unto the smoke o f the frankincense,
W hich there was imaged forth, the eyes and nose
W ere in the yes and no discordant made.
Preceded there the vessel benedight,
Dancing with girded loins, the humble Psalmist,
And more and less than K ing was he in this.
Purgatorio x.
Opposite, represented at the window
O f a great palace, M ichal looked upon him,
Even as a woman scornful and afflicted.
I moved my feet from where I had been standing, 7°
T o examine near at hand another story,

W h ich after M ichal glimmered white upon me.
There the high glory o f the Roman Prince
Was chronicled, whose great beneficence
Moved Gregory to his great victory; 75
*T is o f the Emperor Trajan I am speaking;

And a poor widow at his bridle stood,
In attitude o f weeping and o f grief.
Around about him seemed it thronged and full
O f cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold 80
Above them visibly in the wind were moving.
T h e wretched woman in the midst o f these
Seemed to be saying : “ Give me vengeance, Lord,
For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking.”
And he to answer her : “ N ow wait until 85
I shall return/’ And she : “ M y Lord,” like one
In whom grief is impatient, “ shouldst thou not
Return ?” And he : “ W ho shall be where I am
W ill give it thee.,, And she: “ Good deed o f others
W hat boots it thee, i f thou neglect thine own ? ” 90
W hence he : “ N ow comfort thee, for it behoves me
That I discharge my duty ere I m ove;
Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me.”
H e who on no new thing has ever looked
Was the creator o f this visible language,
Novel to us, for here it is not found.
W hile I delighted me in contemplating
T h e images o f such humility,
And dear to look on for their M aker’s sake,
“ Behold, upon this side, but rare they make
Their steps,” the Poet murmured, “ many people
These will direct us to the lofty stairs.”
Mine eyes, that in beholding were intent
T o see new things, o f which they curious are,
In turning round towards him were not slow.
But still I wish not, Reader, thou shouldst swerve
From thy good purposes, because thou hearest
H ow God ordaineth that the debt be paid;
Attend not to the fashion of the torment,
T h in k o f what follow s; think that at the worst
It cannot reach beyond the mighty sentence.
“ Master,” began I, “ that which I behold
M oving towards us seems to me not persons,
And what I know not, so in sight I waver.”
Purgatorio x.
And he to me : “ T h e grievous quality
O f this their torment bows them so to earth,
T hat my own eyes at first had strife with i t ;
But look there fixedly, and disentangle
By sight what cometh underneath those stones
Already canst thou see how each is stricken.”
O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones!
W ho, in the vision o f 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 ?
Wherefore your spirit doth it float on high ?
L ike are ye unto insects undeveloped,
Even as the worm in which formation fails!
As to sustain a ceiling or a roof,
In place o f corbel, oftentimes a figure
Is seen to join its knees unto its breast,
W hich makes o f the unreal real anguish
Arise in him who sees i t ; fashioned thus
Beheld I those, when I had ta’en good heed.
True is it, they were more or less bent down,
According as they more or less were laden;
And he who had most patience in his looks
Weeping did seem to say, “ I can no more ! ”
CANTO XI.
“ O ur Father, thou who dwellest in the heavens,

N ot circumscribed, but from the greater love
Thou bearest to the first effects on high,
Praised be thy name and thine omnipotence
By every creature, as befitting is
T o render thanks to thy sweet effluence.
Come unto us the peace o f thy dominion,
For unto it we cannot o f ourselves,
I f it come not, with all our intellect.
Even as thine own Angels o f their w ill
M ake sacrifice to thee, Hosanna singing,
So may all men make sacrifice o f 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.
Purgatorio xi.
Our virtue, w hich is easily o’ercome,
Put not to proof with the old Adversary,
But thou from him who spurs it so, deliver.
This last petition verily, dear Lord,
/
N ot for ourselves is made, who need it not,

But for their sake who have remained behind us.”
Thus for themselves and us good furtherance
Those shades imploring, went beneath a weight
L ike unto that o f which we sometimes dream,
Unequally in anguish round and round
And weary all, upon that foremost cornice,
Purging away the smoke-stains o f the world.
I f there good words are always said for us,
W hat may not here be said and done for them,
By those who have a good root to their will ?
W ell may we help them wash away the marks
That hence they carried, so that clean and light
T h ey may ascend unto the starry w heels!
“ Ah ! so may pity and justice you disburden
Soon, that ye may have power to move the wing,
That shall uplift you after your desire,
Show us on w hich hand tow’rd the stairs the way
Is shortest, and if more than one the passes,
Point us out that which least abruptly falls;
For he who cometh with me, through the burden
O f Adam ’s flesh wherewith he is invested,
Against his will is chary o f his climbing.”
T h e words o f theirs w hich they returned to those
That he whom I was following had spoken,
It was not manifest from whom they came,
But it was said: “ T o the right hand come with us
Along the bank, and ye shall find a pass
Possible for living person to ascend.
And were I not impeded by the stone,
W hich this proud neck o f mine doth subjugate,
W hence I am forced to hold my visage down,
Him , who still lives and does not name himself,
W ould I regard, to see if I may know him
And make him piteous unto this burden.
A Latian was I, and born o f a great Tuscan ;
Guglielmo Aldobrandeschi was my father ;
I know not if his name were ever with you.
T h e ancient blood and deeds o f gallantry
O f my progenitors so arrogant made me
That, thinking not upon the common mother,
A ll men I held in scorn to such extent
I died therefor, as know the Sienese,
And every child in Campagnatico.
Purgatorio xi 67
I am Omberto; and not to me alone
Has pride done harm, but all my kith and kin
Has with it dragged into adversity.
And here must I this burden bear for it 70
T ill God be satisfied, since I did not
Am ong the living, here among the dead.”
Listening I downward bent my countenance;
And one o f them, not this one who was speaking,
Twisted him self beneath the weight that cramps him,
And looked at me, and knew me, and called out, 76
Keeping his eyes laboriously fixed
On me, who all bowed down was going with them.
“ O,” asked I him, “ art thou not Oderisi,
Agobbio’s honor, and honor o f that art 80
W h ich is in Paris called illuminating P”
“ Brother,” said he, “ more laughing are the leaves
Touched by the brush o f Franco Bolognese;
A ll his the honor now, and mine in part.
In sooth I had not been so courteous 85
W hile I was living, for the great desire
O f excellence, on w hich my heart was bent.
Here o f 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. 9°
O thou vain glory o f the human powers,
H ow little green upon thy summit lingers,
I f *t be not followed by an age o f 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
T h e glory o f our tongue, and he perchance
Is born, who from the nest shall chase them both.
Naught is this mundane rumor but a breath
O f wind, that comes now this way and now that,
And changes name, because it changes side.
W hat fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off
From thee thy flesh, than i f thou hadst been dead
Before thou left the pappo and the dindi,
Ere pass a thousand years ? which is a shorter
Space to the eterne, than twinkling o f an eye
Unto the circle that in heaven wheels slowest.
W ith him, who takes so little o f the road
In front o f me, all Tuscany resounded;
And now he scarce is lisped o f in Siena,
W here he was lord, what time was overthrown
T h e Florentine delirium, that superb
Was at that day as now ’t is prostitute.
Purgatorio xi.
Your reputation is the color o f grass
W hich comes and goes, and that discolors it
By w hich it issues green from out the earth.”
And I : “ T h y true speech fills my heart with good
Hum ility, and great tumor thou assuagest;
But who is he, o f whom just now thou spakest ?”
" T h a t,” he replied, “ is Provenzan Salvani,
And he is here because he had presumed
T o bring Siena all into his hands.
H e has gone thus, and goeth without rest
E ’er since he died; such money renders back
In payment he who is on earth too daring.”
And I : “ I f every spirit who awaits
T h e verge o f life before that he repent,
Remains below there and ascends not hither,
(Unless good orison shall him bestead,)
U ntil as much time as he lived be passed,
H ow was the coming granted him in largess?”
“ W hen he in greatest splendor lived,” said he,
“ Freely upon the Campo o f Siena,
A ll shame being laid aside, he placed him self;
And there to draw his friend from the duress
W h ich in the prison-house o f Charles he suffered,
H e brought him self to tremble in each vein.
I say no more, and know that I speak d arkly;
Y et little time shall pass before thy neighbors
W ill so demean themselves that thou canst gloss
This action has released him from those confines.”
CANTO XII.
^/^BREAST, like oxen going in a yoke,

I with that heavy-laden soul went on,
As long as the sweet pedagogue perm itted;
But when he said, “ Leave him, and onward pass,
For h e r e ’t is good that with the sail and oars,
As much as may be, each push on his barque ” ;
Upright, as walking wills it, I redressed
M y person, notwithstanding that my thoughts
Remained within me downcast and abated.
I had moved on, and followed w illingly
T h e footsteps o f my Master, and we both
Already showed how light o f foot we were,
W hen unto me he said : “ Cast down thine eyes ;
’T were well for thee, to alleviate the way,
T o look upon the bed beneath thy feet.”
As, that some memory there may be o f them,
Above the buried dead their tombs in earth
Bear sculptured on them what they were before;
W hence often there we weep for them afresh,
From pricking o f remembrance, which alone
T o the compassionate doth set its spur;
So saw I there, but o f a better semblance
In point o f artifice, with figures covered
W hate’er as pathway from the mount projects.
I saw that one who was created noble
M ore than all other creatures, down from heaven
Fall like a thunder-bolt upon one side.
I saw Briareus smitten by the dart
Celestial, lying on the other side,
Heavy upon the earth by mortal frost.
I saw Thymbrasus,. Pallas saw, and Mars,
Still clad in armor round about their father,
Gaze at the scattered members o f the giants.
I saw, at foot o f his great labor, Nimrod,
As if bewildered, looking at the people
W ho had been proud with him in Sennaar.
O Niobe ! with what afflicted eyes
Thee I beheld upon the pathway traced,
Between thy seven and seven children slain!
O Sau l! how fallen upon thy proper sword
Didst thou appear there lifeless in Gilboa,
That felt thereafter neither rain nor dew !
Pforg&tetio xn. 73
O mad Arachne ! so I thee beheld
E ’en then half spider, sad upon the shreds
O f fabric wrought in evil hour for th e e ! 45
0 Rehoboam ! no more seems to threaten

Thine image there ; but full o f consternation
A chariot bears it off) when none pursues!
Displayed moreo’er the adamantine pavement _
H ow unto his own mother made Alcmason 5°
Costly appear the luckless ornament;
Displayed how his own sons did throw themselves
Upon Sennacherib within the temple,
And how, he being dead, they left him th ere;
Displayed the ruin and th§ cruel carnage 55
T h at Tomyris wrought, when she to Cyrus said,

“ Blood didst thou thirst for, and with blood I glut
Displayed how routed fled the Assyrians [thee ! ”
After that Holofernes had been slain,
And likewise the remainder o f that slaughter. 60
1 saw there Troy in ashes and in caverns;
O Ilion ! thee, how abject and debased,
Displayed the image that is there discerned !
W ho e’er o f pencil master was or stile,
T hat could portray the shades and traits which there
-W ould cause each subtile genius to admire? 66
Dead seemed the dead, the living seemed alive;
Better than I saw not who saw the truth,
A ll that I trod upon while bowed I went.
N ow wax ye proud, and on with looks uplifted,
Y e sons o f Eve, and bow not down your faces
So that ye may behold your evil ways!
More o f the mount by us was now encompassed,
And far more spent the circuit o f the sun,
Than had the mind preoccupied imagined,
W hen he, who ever watchful in advance
Was going on, began : “ L ift up thy head,
5T is no more time to go thus meditating.
Lo there an Angel who is making haste
T o come towards us; lo, returning is
From service o f the day the sixth handmaiden.
W ith reverence thine acts and looks adorn,
So that he may delight to speed us upward;
T h in k that this day will never dawn again.”
I was familiar with his admonition
Ever to lose no tim e ; so on this theme
H e could not unto me speak covertly.
Towards us came the being beautiful
Vested in white, and in his countenance
Such as appears the tremulous morning star.
Purgatorio xn.
His arms he opened, and opened then his w in gs;
“ Com e,” said he, “ near at hand here are the st
And easy from henceforth is the ascent.”
A t this announcement few are they who come !
O human creatures, born to soar aloft,
W h y fall ye thus before a little wind ?
H e led us on to where the rock was cle ft;
There smote upon my forehead with his wings,
Then a safe passage promised unto me.
As on the right hand, to ascend the mount
W here seated is the church that lordeth it
O ’er the well-guided, above Rubaconte,
Th e bold abruptness o f thq ascent is broken
By stairways that were made there in the age
W hen still were safe the ledger and the stave,
E ’en thus attempered is the bank which falls
Sheer downward from the second circle there;
But on this side and that the high rock grazes.
As we were turning thitherward our persons,
“ Bead pauperes. spiritu,” voices
Sang in such wise that speech could tell it not.
A h m e ! how different are these entrances
From the Infernal! for with anthems here
One enters, and below with wild laments.
j6 The Divine Comedy
W e now were mounting up the sacred stairs,
And it appeared to me by far more easy
Than on the plain it had appeared before.
W hence I : “ M y Master, say, what heavy thing
Has been uplifted from me, so that hardly
Aught o f fatigue is felt by me in walking ? ”
H e answered : “ W hen the P ’s w hich have remained
Still on thy face almost obliterate
Shall wholly, as the first is, be erased,
T h y feet will be so vanquished by good will,
T hat not alone they shall not feel fatigue,
But urging up will be to them delight.”
Then did I even as they do who are going
W ith something on the head to them unknown,
Unless the signs o f others make them doubt,
W herefore the hand to ascertain is helpful,
And seeks and finds, and doth fulfil the office
W hich cannot be accomplished by the sigh t;
And with the fingers o f the right hand spread
I found but six the letters, that had carved
Upon my temples he who bore the k ey s;
Upon beholding w hich my Leader smiled.
CANTO XIII.
WEwere upon the summit o f the stairs,

W here for the second time is cut away
T h e mountain, w hich ascending shriveth all.
There in like manner doth a cornice bind
T h e hill all round about, as does the first, 5
Save that its arc more suddenly is curved.

Shade is there none, nor sculpture that appears ;
So seems the bank, and so the road seems smooth,
W ith but the livid color o f the stone.
“ I f to inquire we wait for people here,” 10
T h e Poet said, “ I fear that peradventure
T o o much delay w ill our election have.”
Then steadfast on the sun his eyes he fixed,
Made his right side the centre o f his motion,
And turned the left part o f himself about. is
“ O thou sweet lig h t! with* trust in whom I enter
Upon this novel journey, do thou lead us,”
Said he, “ as one within here should be led.
Thou warmest the world, thou shinest over i t ;
I f other reason prompt not otherwise,
T h y rays should evermore our leaders b e ! ”
As much as here is counted for a mile,
So much already there had we advanced
In little time, by dint o f ready w i l l ;
And tow’rds us there were heard to fly, albeit
T h ey were not visible, spirits uttering
Unto Love’s table courteous invitations.
T h e first voice that passed onward in its flight,
“ Vinum non habent,” said in accents loud,
And went reiterating it behind us.
And ere it wholly grew inaudible
Because o f distance, passed another, crying,
“ I am Orestes! ” and it also stayed not.
“ O ,” said I, “ Father, these, what voices are th ey?”
And even as I asked, behold the third,
Saying: “ Love those from whom ye have had evil!
And the good Master said : “ This circle scourges
T h e sin o f envy, and on that account
Are drawn from love the lashes o f the scourge.
T h e bridle o f another sound shall b e ;
I think that thou wilt hear it, as I judge,
Before thou comest to the Pass o f Pardon.
Ptirgatorio xm.
But fix thine eyes athwart the air right steadfast,
And people thou wilt see before us sitting,
And each one close against the cliff is seated.”
Then wider than at first mine eyes I opened;
I looked before me, and saw shades with mantles
N ot from the color o f the stone diverse.
And when we were a little farther onward,
I heard a cry of, “ Mary, pray for u s! ”
A cry of, “ M ichael, Peter, and all Saints! ”
I do not think there walketh still on earth
A man so hard, that he would not be pierced
W ith pity at what afterward I saw.
For when I had approached so near to them
That manifest to me their acts became,
Drained was I at the eyes by heavy grief.
Covered with sackcloth vile they seemed to me,
And one sustained the other with his shoulder,
And all o f them were by the bank sustained.
Thus do the blind, in want o f livelihood,
Stand at the doors o f churches asking alms,
And one upon another leans his head,
So that in others pity soon may rise,
N ot only at the accent o f their words,
But at their aspect, w hich no less implores.
8 o The Divine Comedy
And as unto the blind the sun comes not,
So to the shades, o f whom just now I spake,
Heaven’s light w ill not be bounteous o f itself;
For all their lids an iron wire transpierces, 70
And sews them up, as to a sparhawk wild
Is done, because it w ill not quiet stay.
T o me it seemed, in passing, to do outrage,
Seeing the others without being seen;
Wherefore I turned me to my counsel sage. 75
W ell knew he what the mute one wished to say,

And therefore waited not for my demand,
But said: “ Speak, and be brief, and to the point.”
I had Virgilius upon that side
O f the embankment from which one may fall, 80
Since by no border ’t is engarlanded;
Upon the other side o f me I had
T h e shades devout, who through the horrible seam
Pressed out the tears so that they bathed their cheeks.
T o them I turned me, and, “ O people, certain,” 85
Began I, “ o f beholding the high light,
W hich your desire has solely in its care,
So may grace speedily dissolve the scum
Upon your consciences, that limpidly
Through them descend the river o f the mind, 9°
Purgatorio xm. 81
T ell me, for d e a r’t w ill be to me and gracious,

I f any soul among you here is Latian,
And *t will perchance be good for him I learn it.”
“ O brother mine, each one is citizen
O f one true city ; but thy meaning is, 95
W ho may have lived in Italy a pilgrim.”

By way o f answer this I seemed to hear
A little farther on than where I stood,
W hereat I made myself still nearer heard.
Among the rest I saw a shade that waited 100
In aspect, and should any one ask how,
Its chin it lifted upward like a blind man.
“ Spirit,” I said, “ who stoopest to ascend,
I f thou art he who did reply to me,
M ake thyself known to me by place or name.” 105
“ Sienese was I,” it replied, “ and with
T h e others here recleanse my guilty life,
W eeping to Him to lend himself to us.
Sapient I was not, although I Sapia
Was called, and I was at another's harm no
More happy far than at my own good fortune.
And that thou mayst not think that I deceive thee,
Hear if I was as foolish as I tell thee.
T h e arc already o f my years descending,
82 Tile Divme Comedy
M y fellow-citizens near unto Colie
W ere joined in battle with their adversaries,
And I was praying God for what he willed.
Routed were they, and turned into the bitter
Passes o f flig h t; and I, the chase beholding,
A joy received unequalled by all others; 120
So that I lifted upward my bold face
Crying to God, ‘ Henceforth I fear thee not/
As did the blackbird at the little sunshine.
Peace I desired with God at the extreme
O f my existence, and as yet would not 125
M y debt have been by penitence discharged,
Had it not been that in remembrance held me
Pier Pettignano in his holy prayers,
W ho out o f charity was grieved for me.
But who art thou, that into our conditions I30
Questioning goest, and hast thine eyes unbound
As I believe, and breathing dost discourse ? ”
“ Mine eyes,” I said, “ will yet be here ta’en from me,
But for short space; for,small is the offence
Committed by their being turned with envy. *35
Far greater is the fear, wherein suspended
M y soul is, o f the torment underneath,
For even now the load down there weighs on me.
Purgatorio xm. «3
And she to m e : “ W ho led thee, then, among us

Up here, i f to return below thou thinkest r ” 140
And I : “ H e who is with me, and speaks n o t;
And living am I ; therefore ask o f me,
Spirit elect, if thou wouldst have me move
O ’er yonder yet my mortal feet for thee.”
“ O, this is such a novel thing to hear,” 145
She answered, “ that great sign it is God loves th ee;
Therefore with prayer o f thine sometimes assist me.
And I implore, by what thou most desirest,
I f e’er thou treadest the soil o f Tuscany,
W ell with my kindred reinstate my fame. 15*
Them w ilt thou see among that people vain
W ho hope in Talamone, and will lose there
M ore hope than in discovering the D ian a;
But there still more the admirals will lose.”
CANTO XI V.
is this one that goes about our mountain,

Or ever Death has given him power o f flight,
And opes his eyes and shuts them at his will ? ”
“ I know not who, but know h e ’s not alone;
Ask him thyself, for thou art nearer to him,
And gently, so that he may speak, accost him .”
Thus did two spirits, leaning tow’rds each other,
Discourse about me there on the right hand;
Then held supine their faces to address me.
And said the one : “ O soul, that, fastened still
W ithin the body, tow’rds the heaven art going,
For charity console us, and declare
W hence comest and who art th o u ; for thou mak’st us
As much to marvel at this grace o f thine
As must a thing that never yet has been.”
And I : “ Through midst o f Tuscany there wanders <
A streamlet that is born in Falterona,
And not a hundred miles o f course suffice i t ;
Purgatorio xiv. 85
From thereupon do I this body bring.

T o tell you who I am were speech in vain, 20
Because my name as yet makes no great noise.”
“ I f well thy meaning I can penetrate
W ith intellect o f mine,” then answered me
H e who first spake, “ thou speakest o f the Arno.”
And said the other to him : “ W h y concealed *5
This one the appellation o f that river,
Even as a man doth o f things horrible ? ”
And thus the shade that questioned was o f this
H im self acquitted: “ I know not; but truly
5T is fit the name o f such a valley perish ; 3°
For from its fountain-head (where is so pregnant

T h e Alpine mountain whence is cleft Peloro A •-
T h at in few places it that mark surpasses)
T o where it yields itself in restoration
O f what the heaven doth o f the sea dry up, 35
W hence have the rivers that w hich goes with them,

Virtue is like an enemy avoided
By all, as is a serpent, through misfortune
O f place, or through bad habit that impels th em ;
•!
/On which account have so transformed their nature 40
T h e dwellers in that miserable valley,
It seems that Circe had them in her pasture.
'M id ugly swine, o f acorns worthier
Than other food for human use created,
It first directeth its impoverished way.
Curs findeth it thereafter, coming downward,
M ore snarling than their puissance demands,
And turns from them disdainfully its muzzle.
It goes on falling, and the more it grows,
T h e more it finds the dogs becoming wolves,
This maledict and misadventurous ditch.,
Descended then through many a hollow gulf,
It finds the foxes so replete with fraud,
T h ey fear no cunning that may master them.
N or w ill I cease because another hears m e;
And well *t will be for him, if still he mind him
O f what a truthful spirit to me unravels.
T h y grandson I behold, who doth become
A hunter o f those wolves upon the bank
O f the wild stream, and terrifies them all.
H e sells their flesh, it being yet alive;
Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves;
Many o f life, him self o f praise, deprives.
Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest;
H e leaves it such, a thousand years from now
In its primeval state ’t is not re-wooded.”
Purgatorio xiv. 87
As at the announcement o f impending ills
T h e face o f him who listens is disturbed,
From whate’er side the peril seize upon h im ;
So I beheld that other soul, which stood 7°
Turned round to listen, grow disturbed and sad,

W hen it had gathered to itself the word.
The speech o f one and aspect o f the other
Had me desirous made to know their names,
And question mixed with prayers I made thereof, 75
Whereat the spirit which first spake to me

Began again : “ Thou wishest I should bring me
T o do for thee what thou ’It not do for m e ;
But since God willeth that in thee shine forth
Such grace o f his, I ’11 not be chary with th ee; 80
Know, then, that I Guido del Duca am.
M y blood was so with envy set on fire,
T hat if I had beheld a man make merry,
Thou wouldst have seen me sprinkled o’er with pallor.
From my own sowing such the straw I reap! 85
O human race! w hy dost thou set thy heart
W here interdict o f partnership must be ?
This is R enier; this is the boast and honor
O f the house o f Calboli, where no one since
Has made himself the heir o f his desert. 9°
And not alone his blood is made devoid,
’T w ixt Po and mount, and sea-shore and the Reno,,
O f good required for truth and for diversion
For all within these boundaries is full
O f venomous roots, so that too tardily 95
By cultivation now would they diminish.

W here is good Lizio, and Arrigo Manardi,
Pier Traversaro, and Guido di Carpigna,
--] O Romagnuoli into bastards turned ?
W hen in Bologna will a Fabbro rise ? 100
W hen in Faenza a Bernardin di Fosco,
T h e noble scion o f ignoble seed ?
Be not astonished, Tuscan, if I weep,
W hen I remember, with Guido da Prata,
Ugolin d’ Azzo, who was living with us, 105
Frederick Tignoso and his company,
T h e house o f Traversara, and th’ Anastagi,
And one race and the other is extin ct;
T h e dames and cavaliers, the toils and ease
That filled our souls with love and courtesy, no
There where the hearts have so malicious grown !
O Brettinoro ! why dost thou not flee,,
Seeing that all thy family is gone,
And many people, not to be corrupted ?
Purgatorio xiv.
Bagnacaval does well in not begetting,
And ill does Castrocaro, and Conio worse,
In taking trouble to beget such Counts.
W ill do well the Pagani, when their Devil
Shall have departed; but not therefore pure
W ill testimony o f them e’er remain.
O Ugolin de’ Fantoli, secure
T h y name is, since no longer is awaited
One who, degenerating, can obscure i t !
But go now, Tuscan, for it now delights me
T o weep far better than it does to speak,
So much has our discourse my mind distressed.”
W e were aware that those^beloved souls
Heard us depart; therefore, by keeping silent,
T h ey made us o f our pathway confident.
W hen we became alone by going onward,
Thunder, when it doth cleave the air, appeared
A voice, that counter to us came, exclaim ing:
“ Shall slay me whosoever findeth m e ! ”
And fled as the reverberation dies
I f suddenly the cloud asunder bursts.
As soon as hearing had a truce from this,
Behold another, with so great a crash,
That it resembled thunderings following fast:
“ I am Aglaurus, who became a stone! ”
And then, to press m yself close to the Poet,
I backward, and not forward, took a step.
Already on all sides the air was q u iet;
And said he to me : “ That was the hard curb
That ought to hold a man within his bounds ;
But you take in the bait so that the hook
O f the old Adversary draws you to him,
And hence availeth little curb or call.
T h e heavens are calling you, and wheel around you,
Displaying to you their eternal beauties,
And still your eye is looking on the ground;
W hence He, who all discerns, chastises you.”
CANTO XV.
J\^S much as ’twixt the close o f the third hour

And dawn o f day appeareth o f that sphere
W hich aye in fashion o f a child is playing,
So much it now appeared, towards the night,
Was o f his course remaining to the sun;
There it was evening, and ’t was midnight h ere;
And the rays smote the middle o f our faces,
Because by us the mount was so encircled,
That straight towards the west we now were going
When I perceived my forehead overpowered
Beneath the splendor far more than at first,
And stupor were to me the things unknow n;
Whereat towards the summit o f my brow
I raised my hands, and made myself the visor
W h ich the excessive glare diminishes.
As when from off the water, or a mirror,
T h e sunbeam leaps unto the opposite side,
Ascending upward in the selfsame measure
That it descends, and deviates as far
From falling o f a stone in line direct,
(As demonstrate experiment and art,)
So it appeared to me that by a light
Refracted there before me I was sm itten;
On which account my sight was swift to flee.
“ W hat is that, Father sweet, from w hich I cannot
So fully screen my sight that it avail me,”
Said I, “ and seems towards us to be moving ? ”
“ Marvel thou not, if dazzle thee as yet
T h e family o f heaven,” he answered me ;
“ An angel ’t is, who comes to invite us upward.
Soon w ill it be, that to behold these things
Shall not be grievous, but delightful to thee
As much as nature fashioned thee to feel.”
W hen we had reached the Angel benedight,
W ith joyful voice he said : “ Here enter in
T o stairway far less steep than are the others.”
W e mounting were, already thence departed,
And “ Beati ?nisericordes ” was
Behind us sung, “ Rejoice, thou that o’ercom est! ”
M y master and myself, we two alone
W ere going upward, and I thought, in going,
Some profit to acquire from words o f h is ;
Purgatorio xv. 93
And I to him directed me, thus askin g:
“ W hat did the spirit o f Romagna mean,
Mentioning interdict and partnership ? ” 4s
W hence he to m e: “ O f his own greatest failing
H e knows the h arm ; and therefore wonder not
I f he reprove us, that we less may rue it.
Because are thither pointed your desires
W here by companionship each share is lessened, 5®
Envy doth ply the bellows to your sighs.
But i f the love o f the supernal sphere
Should upwardly direct your aspiration,
There would not be that fear within your breast;
For there, as much the more as one says Our , 55
So much the more o f good each one possesses,
And more o f charity in that cloister burns.”
“ I am more hungering to be satisfied,”
I said, “ than i f I had before been silent,
And more o f doubt within my mind I gather. 6®
How can it be, that boon distributed
T h e more possessors can more wealthy make
Therein, than if by few it be possessed ? ”
And he to me : “ Because thou fixest still
T h y mind entirely upon earthly things, 65
Thou pluckest darkness from the very light.
That goodness infinite and ineffable
W hich 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
And, as a mirror, one reflects the other.
And if my reasoning appease thee not,
Thou shalt see Beatrice; and she w ill fully
T ake from thee this and every other longing.
Endeavor, then, that soon may be extinct,
As are the two already, the five wounds
That close themselves again by being painful.”
Even as I wished to say, “ Thou dost appease me,”
I saw that I had reached another circle,
So that my eager eyes made me keep silence.
There it appeared to me that in a vision
Ecstatic on a sudden I was rapt,
And in a temple many persons saw ;
And at the door a woman, with the sweet
Behavior o f a mother, saying : “ Son,
W h y in this manner hast thou dealt with us ?
Purgatorio xv. 95
Lo, sorrowing, thy father and myself
W ere seeking for th ee” ; — and as here she ceased,
T hat w hich appeared at first had disappeared.
Then I beheld another with those waters
Adown her cheeks which grief distils whenever 95
From great disdain o f others it is born,

And saying : “ I f o f that city thou art lord,
For whose name was such strife among the gods,
And whence doth every science scintillate,
Avenge thyself on those audacious arms 100
That clasped our daughter, O Pisistratus ” ;
And the lord seemed to me benign and mild
T o answer her with aspect temperate:
“ W hat shall we do to those who wish us ill,
I f he who loves us be by us condemned ? ” 105
Then saw I people hot in fire o f wrath,
W ith stones a young man slaying, clamorously
Still crying to each other, “ K ill him ! kill him ! ”
And him I saw bow down, because o f death
That weighed already on him, to the earth, no
But o f his eyes made ever gates to heaven,
Imploring the high Lord, in so great strife,
That he would pardon those his persecutors,
W ith such an aspect as unlocks compassion.
Soon as my soul had outwardly returned 115
T o things external to it w hich are true,
D id I my not false errors recognize.
M y Leader, who could see me bear m yself
L ike to a man that rouses him from sleep, [stand?
Exclaim ed: “ W hat ails thee, that thou canst not
But hast been coming more than half a league m
Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled,
In guise o f one whom wine or sleep subdues ? ”
“ O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me,
I ’11 tell thee,” said I, “ what appeared to me, 125
W hen thus from me my legs were ta’en away.”
And he : “ I f thou shouldst have a hundred masks
Upon thy face, from me would not be shut
T h y cogitations, howsoever small.
W hat thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail 130
T o ope thy heart unto the waters o f peace,
W h ich from the eternal fountain are diffused.
I did not ask, ‘ W hat ails th e e ? ’ as he does
W ho only looketh with the eyes that see not
W hen o f the soul bereft the body lies, 13s
But asked it to give vigor to thy fe e t;
Thus must we needs urge on the sluggards, slow
T o use-their wakefulness when it returns.”
Purgatorio xv. 97
W e passed along, athwart the twilight peering

Forward as far as ever eye could stretch 140
Against the sunbeams serotine and lucent;
And l o ! by slow degrees a smoke approached
In our direction, sombre as the night,
N or was there place to hide one’s self therefrom.
This o f our eyes and the pure air bereft us. 14s
13
CANTO XVI.
J ^ A R K N E S S o f hell, and o f a night deprived

O f every planet under a poor sky,
As much as may be tenebrous with cloud,
N e’er made unto my sight so thick a veil,
As did that smoke w hich there enveloped us,
N or to the feeling o f so rough a texture;
For not an eye it suffered to stay open;
Whereat mine escort, faithful and sagacious,
Drew near to me and offered me his shoulder.
E ’en as a blind man goes behind his guide,
Lest he should wander, or should strike against
Aught that may harm or peradventure kill him,
So went I through the bitter and foul air,
Listening unto my Leader, who said only,
“ Look that from me thou be not separated.”
j
Voices I heard, and every one appeared
T o supplicate for peace and misericord
T h e Lamb o f God who takes away our sins.
Purgatovio xvi. 99
Still “ Agnus D e i ” their exordium was ;
One word there was in all, and metre one,
So that all harmony appeared among them.
“ Master/’ I said, “ are spirits those I hear ? ”
And he to m e : “ Thou apprehendest truly,
And they the knot o f anger go unloosing.”
“ N ow who art thou, that cleavest through our smoke, »5
And art discoursing o f us even as though
Thou didst by calends still divide the time ? ”
After this manner by a voice was spoken;
Whereon my Master said : “ Do thou reply,
And ask i f on this side the way go upward.” 30
And I : “ O creature that dost cleanse thyself
T o return beautiful to Him who made thee,
Thou shalt hear marvels if thou follow me.”
“ Thee w ill I follow far as is allowed me,”
H e answered ; “ and i f smoke prevent our seeing, 35
Hearing shall keep us joined instead thereof.”
Thereon began I : “ W ith that swathing band
W hich death unwindeth am I going upward,
And hither came I through the infernal anguish.
And. if God in his grace has me infolded, 40
So that he wills that I behold his court
By method wholly out o f modern usage,
ioo The Divine Comedy
Conceal not from me who ere death thou wast,
But tell it me, and tell me if I go
Right for the pass, and be thy words our escort.” 45
“ Lombard was I, and I was M arco called ;
T h e world I knew, and loved that excellence,
A t which has each one now unbent his bow.
For mounting upward, thou art going right.”
Thus he made answer, and subjoined : “ I pray thee
T o pray for me when thou shalt be above.” 51
'A n d I to him : “ M y faith I pledge to thee
T o do what thou dost ask m e; but am bursting
Inly with doubt, unless I rid me o f it.
First it was simple, and is now made double 55
By thy opinion, which makes certain to me,
Here and elsewhere, that which I couple with it.
T h e world forsooth is utterly deserted
By every virtue, as thou tellest me,
And with iniquity is big and covered ; 60
But I beseech thee point me out the cause,
That I may see it, and to others show it ;
For one in the heavens, and here below one puts it.”
A sigh profound, that grief forced into A i !
He first sent forth, and then began he : “ Brother, 65
The world is blind, and sooth thou comest from i t !
/
Pw'gatorio xvi. \
!{-.
Y e who are living every cause refer

Still upward to the heavens, as if all things
T h ey o f necessity moved with themselves.
I f this were so, in you would be destroyed
Free will, nor any justice would there be
In having joy for good, or grief for evil.
Th e heavens your movements do initiate,
I say not a ll; but granting that I say it,
Light has been given you for good and evil,
And free volition; which, if some fatigue
In the first battles with the heavens it suffers,
Afterwards conquers all, if well ’t is nurtured.
T o greater force and to a better nature,
Though free, ye subject are, and that creates
T h e 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 y o u ;
And I therein w ill now be thy true spy.
Forth from the hand o f Him , who fondles it
Before it is, like to a little girl
W eeping and laughing in her childish sport,
Issues the simple soul, that nothing knows,
Save that, proceeding from a joyous Maker,
Gladly it turns to that w hich gives it pleasure.
O f trivial good at first it tastes the savor;
Is cheated by it, and runs after it,
I f guide or rein turn not aside its love.
Hence it behoved laws for a rein to place,
Behoved a king to have, who at the least
O f the true city should discern the tower.
T h e laws exist, but who sets hand to them ?
N o o n e; because the shepherd who precedes
Can ruminate, but cleaveth not the h o o f;
W herefore the people that perceives its guide
Strike only at the good for which it hankers,
Feeds upon that, and farther seeketh not.
Clearly canst thou perceive that evil guidance
T h e cause is that has made the world depraved,
And not that nature is corrupt in you.
Rome, that reformed the world, accustomed was
T w o suns to have, which one road and the other,
O f God and o f the world, made manifest.
One has the other quenched, and to the crosier
T h e sword is joined, and ill beseemeth it
That by main force one with the other go,
Because, being joined, one feareth not the other;
I f thou believe not, think upon the grain,
For by its seed each herb is recognized.
Purgatorio xvi. 103
In the land laved by Po and Adige, ‘ us

Valor and courtesy used to be found,
Before that Frederick had his controversy;
N ow in security can pass that way
• W hoever w ill abstain, through sense o f shame,
From speaking with the good, or drawing near them.
True, three old men are left, in whom upbraids ^
T h e ancient age the new, and late they deem it

That God restore them to the better lif e :
Currado da Palazzo, and good Gherardo,
And Guido da Castel, who better named is, 1*5
In fashion o f the French, the simple Lombard : /
Say thou henceforward tha£ the Church o f Rome,
Confounding in itself two governments,
Falls in the mire, and soils itself and burden.”
“ Q Marco mine,” I said, “ thou reasonest w e ll; 130
And now discern I w hy the sons o f Levi
Have been excluded from the heritage.
But what Gherardo is it, who, as sample
O f a lost race, thou sayest has remained
In reprobation o f the barbarous age ? ” 13s
“ Either thy speech deceives me, or it tempts me,”

H e answered m e; “ for speaking Tuscan to me,
It seems o f good Gherardo naught thou knowest.
By other surname do I know him not,
Unless I take it from his daughter Gaia.
M ay God be with you, for I come no farther.
Behold the dawn, that through the smoke rays out,
Already w hitening; and I must depart —
Yonder the Angel is — e’er he appear.”
Thus did he speak, and would no farther hear me.
CANTO XVII.
J ^ E M E M B E R , Reader, if e’er in the Alps

A mist o’ertook thee, through which thou couldst see
N ot otherwise than through its membrane mole,
How, when the vapors humid and condensed
Begin to dissipate themselves, the sphere 5
O f the sun feebly enters in among them,
And thy imagination w ill he swift
In coming to perceive how I re-saw
T h e sun at first, that was already setting.
Thus, to the faithful footsteps o f my Master jo
Mating mine own, I issued from that cloud

T o rays already dead on the low shores.
O thou, Imagination, that dost steal us
So from without sometimes, that man perceives not,
Although around may sound a thousand trumpets, 15
W ho moveth thee, if sense impel thee not ?
Moves thee a light, w hich in the heaven takes form,
By self, or by a will that downward guides it.
H
io 6 The Divine Comedy
O f her impiety, who changed her form
Into the bird that most delights in singing,
In my imagining appeared the trace ;
And hereupon my mind was so withdrawn
W ithin itself, that from without there came
Nothing that then might be received by it.
Then rained within my lofty fantasy
One crucified, disdainful and ferocious
In countenance, and even thus was dying.
Around him were the great Ahasuerus,
Esther his wife, and the just Mordecai,
W ho was in word and action so entire.
And even as this image burst asunder
O f its own self, in fashion o f a bubble
In which the water it was made o f fails,
There rose up in my vision a young maiden
Bitterly weeping, and she said : “ O queen,
W h y hast thou wished in anger to be naught ?
Thou ’st slain thyself, Lavinia not to lose;
N ow hast thou lost m e; I am she who mourns,
Mother, at thine ere at another’s ruin.”
As sleep is broken, when upon a sudden
N ew light strikes in upon the eyelids closed,
And broken quivers e’er it dieth wholly,
Purgatorio xvn. i
So this imagining o f mine fell down

As soon as the effulgence smote my face,
Greater by far than what is in our wont.
I turned me round to see where I might be,
W hen said a voice, “ Here is the passage up” ;
W hich from all other purposes removed me,
And made my wish so full o f eagerness
T o look and see who was it that was speaking,
It never rests till meeting face to face;
But as before the sun, w hich quells the sight,
And in its own excess its figure veils,
Even so my power was insufficient here.
“ This is a spirit divine, who in the way
O f going up directs us without asking,
And who with his own light him self conceals.
He does with us as man doth with him self;
For he who sees the need, and waits the asking,
M alignly leans already tow’rds denial.
Accord we now our feet to such inviting,
Let us make haste to mount ere it grow d ark;
For then we could not till the day return.”
Thus my Conductor said; and I and he
Together turned our footsteps to a stairway;
And I, as soon as the first step I reached,
io8 The Divine Comedy
Near me perceived a motion as o f wings,
And fanning in the face, and saying, “ Beati
Pacijiciy who are without ill anger.”
Already over us were so uplifted 7°
T h e latest sunbeams, which the night pursues,

T hat upon many sides the stars appeared.
“ O manhood mine, why dost thou vanish so ? ”
I said within m yself; for I perceived
T h e vigor o f my legs was put in truce. 75
W e at the point were where no more ascends

T h e stairway upward, and were motionless,
Even as a ship, w hich at the shore arrives;
And I gave heed a little, if I m ight hear
Aught whatsoever in the circle n e w ; 80
Then to my Master turned me round and said:
“ Say, my sweet Father, what delinquency
Is purged here in the circle where we are ?
Although our feet may pause, pause not thy speech.”
And he to me : “ T h e love o f good, remiss 85
In what it should have done, is here restored;

Here plied again the ill-belated oar ;
But still more openly to understand,
Turn unto me thy mind, and thou shalt gather
Some profitable fruit from our delay. 9°
Purgatorio xvn.
Neither Creator nor a creature ever,
Son,” he began, “ was destitute o f love
Natural or spiritual; and thou knowest it.
Th e natural was ever without error;
But err the other may by evil object,
Or by too much, or by too little vigor.
W hile in the first it well directed is,
And in the second moderates itself,
It cannot be the cause o f sinful pleasure;
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
T h e seed within yourselves o f every virtue,
And every act that merits punishment.
Now inasmuch as never from the welfare
O f its own subject can love turn its sight,
From their own hatred all things are secure;
And since we cannot think o f any being
Standing alone, nor from the First divided,
O f hating H im is all desire cut off.
Hence if, discriminating, I judge well,
T h e evil that one loves is o f one’s neighbor,
And this is born in three modes in your clay.
no The Divine Comedy
There are, who, by abasement o f their neighbor,

Hope to excel, and therefore only long
That from his greatness he may be cast dow n ;
There are, who power, grace, honor, and renown
Fear they may lose because another rises,
Thence are so sad that the reverse they lo v e ;
And there are those whom injury seems to chafe,
So that it makes them greedy for revenge,
And such must needs shape out another’s harm.
This threefold love is wept for down below;
N ow o f the other w ill I have thee hear,
That runneth after good with measure faulty.
Each one confusedly a good conceives
Wherein the mind may rest, and longeth for i t ;
Therefore to overtake it each one strives.
I f languid love to look on this attract you,
Or in attaining unto it, this cornice,
After just penitence, torments you for it.
T h e r e ’s other good that does not make man happy;
’T is not felicity, ’t is not the good
Essence, o f every good the fruit and root.
T h e love that yields itself too much to this
Above us is lamented in three circles;
But how tripartite it may be described,
I say not, that thou seek it for thyself.”
CANTO XVIII.
end had put unto his reasoning

T h e lofty Teacher, and attent was looking
Into my face, i f I appeared content;
And I, whom a new thirst still goaded on,
W ithout was mute, and said within : “ Perchance
T h e too much questioning I make annoys him .”
But that true Father, who had comprehended
T h e timid wish, that opened not itself,
By speaking gave me hardihood to speak.
Whence I : “ M y sight is, Master, vivified
So in thy light, that clearly I discern
W hate’er thy speech importeth or describes.
Therefore I thee entreat, sweet Father dear,
T o teach me love, to which thou dost refer
Every good action and its contrary.”
“ Direct,” he said, “ towards me the keen eyes
O f intellect, and clear will be to thee
T h e error o f the blind, who would be leaders.
ii2’ The Divine Comedy
T h e soul, which is created apt to love,

Is mobile unto everything that pleases, 20
Soon as by pleasure she is waked to action.
Your apprehension from some real thing
An image draws, and in yourselves displays it,
So that it makes the soul turn unto it.
And if, when turned, towards it she incline, *5
Love is that inclination; it is nature,
W h ich is by pleasure bound in you a n e w .^
Then even as the fire doth upward move
By its own form, w hich to ascend is born,
W here longest in its matter it endures, 3°
So comes the captive soul into desire,

W h ich is a motion spiritual, and ne’er rests
Until she doth enjoy the thing beloved.
N ow may apparent be to thee how hidden
T h e truth is from those people, who aver 35
A ll love is in itself a laudable th in g ;

Because its matter may perchance appear
A ye to be g o o d ; but yet not each impression
Is good, albeit good may be the wax.”
“ T h y words, and my sequacious intellect,” 40
I answered him, “ have love revealed to m e ;
But that has made me more impregned with doubt;
Purgatorio x v iii .
For if love from without be offered us,

And with another foot the soul go not,
I f right or wrong she go, ’t is not her merit.”
And he to m e : “ W hat reason seeth here,
M yself can tell thee ; beyond that await
For Beatrice, since ’tis a work o f faith.
Every substantial form, that segregate
From matter is, and with it is united,
Specific power has in itself collected,
W hich without act is not perceptible,
Nor shows itself except by its effect,
As life does in a plant by the green leaves.
But still, whence cometh the intelligence
O f the first notions, man is ignorant,
And the affection for the first allurements,
W hich are in you as instinct in the bee
T o make its honey; and this first desire
Merit o f praise or blame containeth not.
Now, that to this all others may be gathered,
Innate within you is the power that counsels,
And it should keep the threshold o f assent.
This is the principle, from which is taken
Occasion o f desert in you, according
As good and guilty loves it takes and winnows.
Those who, in reasoning, to the bottom went,

W ere o f this innate liberty aware,
Therefore bequeathed they Ethics to the world.
Supposing, then, that from necessity
Springs every love that is within you kindled,
W ithin yourselves the power is to restrain it.
T h e noble virtue Beatrice understands
By the free w i l l ; and therefore see that thou
Bear it in mind, if she should speak o f it.”
T h e moon, belated almost unto midnight,
N ow made the stars appear to us more rare,
Formed like a bucket, that is all ablaze,
And counter to the heavens ran through those paths
W hich the sun sets aflame, when he o f Rome
Sees it ’twixt Sardes and Corsicans go down ;
And that patrician shade, for whom is named
Pietola more than any Mantuan town,
Had laid aside the burden o f my lading;
W hence I, who reason manifest and plain
In answer to my questions had received,
Stood like a man in drowsy revery.
But taken from me was this drowsiness
Suddenly by a people, that behind
Our backs already had come round to us.
Pttrgatorio x v i i l
And as, o f old, Ismenus and Asopus

Beside them saw at night the rush and throng,
I f but the Thebans were in need o f Bacchus,
So they along that circle curve their step,
From what I saw o f those approaching us,
W ho by good-will and righteous love are ridden.
Full soon they were upon us, because running
Moved onward all that mighty multitude,
And two in the advance cried out, lamenting,
“ Mary in haste unto the mountain ran,
And Caesar, that he might subdue Ilerda,
Thrust at Marseilles, and then ran into Spain.”
“ Q u ic k ! quick ! so that the time may not be lost
By little lo v e ! ” forthwith the others cried,
“ For ardor in well-doing freshens grace ! ”
“ O folk, in whom an eager fervor now
Supplies perhaps delay and negligence
Put by you in well-doing, through lukewarmness,
This one who lives, and truly I lie not,
W ould fain go up, if but the sun relight us;
So tell us where the passage nearest is.”
These were the words o f him who was my G u id e;
And some one o f those spirits said : “ Come on
Behind us, and the opening shalt thou find;
The Divine Comedy
So full o f longing are we to move onward,

That stay we cannot; therefore pardon us,
I f thou for churlishness our justice take.
I was San Zeno’s Abbot at Verona,
Under the empire o f good Barbarossa,
O f whom still sorrowing Milan holds discourse;
And he has one foot in the grave already,
W ho shall erelong lament that monastery,
And sorry be for having there had power,
Because his son, in his whole body sick,
And worse in mind, and who was evil-born,
H e put into the place o f its true pastor.”
I f more he said, or silent was, I know not,
H e had already passed so far beyond us;
But this I heard, and to retain it pleased me.
And he who was in every need my succor
Said: “ Turn thee hitherward; see two o f them
Come fastening upon slothfulness their teeth.”
In rear o f all they shouted : “ Sooner were
T h e people dead to whom the sea was opened,
Than their inheritors the Jordan saw;
And those who the fatigue did not endure
Unto the issue, with Andrises’ son,
Themselves to life withouten glory offered.”
Purgatorio xvm. 117
Then when from us so separated were

Those shades, that they no longer could be seen, 140
W ithin me a new thought did entrance find,
W hence others many and diverse were born ;
And so I lapsed from one into another,
That in a reverie mine eyes I closed,
And meditation into dream transmuted. 145
CANTO XIX .
J T was the hour when the diurnal heat

No more can warm the coldness o f the moon,
Vanquished by earth, or peradventure Saturn,
W hen geomancers their Fortuna Major
See in the orient before the dawn
Rise by a path that long remains not dim,
There came to me in dreams a stammering woman,
Squint in her eyes, and in her feet distorted,
W ith hands dissevered, and o f sallow hue.
I looked at h e r ; and as the sun restores
T h e frigid members, which the night benumbs,
Even thus my gaze did render voluble
Her tongue, and made her all exett thereafter
In little while, and the lost countenance
As love desires it so in her did color.
W hen in this wise she had her speech unloosed,
She ’gan to sing so, that with difficulty
Could I have turned my thoughts away from her.
Purgatorio xix. 119
“ I am,” she sang, “ I am the Siren sweet

W ho mariners amid the main unman, 20
So full am I o f pleasantness to hear.
I drew Ulysses from his wandering way
Unto my song, and he who dwells with me
Seldom departs, so w holly I content him .”
Her mouth was not yet closed again, before *5
Appeared a Lady saintly and alert
Close at my side to put her to confusion.
“ Virgilius, O Virgilius ! who is this ? ”
Sternly she said; and he was drawing near
W ith eyes still fixed upon that modest one. 3°
She seized the other and in^front laid open,

Rending her garments, and her belly showed m e ;
This waked me with the stench that issued from it.
I turned mine eyes, and good Virgilius said:
“ A t least thrice have I called thee; rise and come; 3s
Find we the opening by which thou mayst enter.”

I rose; and full already o f high day
W ere all the circles o f the Sacred Mountain,
And with the new sun at our back we went.
Following behind him, I my forehead bore 40
L ike unto one who has it laden with thought,
W ho makes himself the half arch o f a bridge,
W hen I heard say, “ Come, here the passage is,”

Spoken in a manner gentle and benign,
Such as we hear not in this mortal region. 45
W ith open wings, which o f a swan appeared,
Upward he turned us who thus spake to us,
Between the two walls o f the solid granite.
H e moved his pinions afterwards and fanned us,
Affirming those qui lugent to be blessed, 5°
For they shall have their souls with comfort filled.
“ W hat aileth thee, that aye to earth thou gazest ? ”
T o me my Guide began to say, we both
Somewhat beyond the Angel having mounted.
And I : “ W ith such misgiving makes me go 55
A vision new, which bends me to itself,

So that I cannot from the thought withdraw me.”
“ Didst thou behold,” he said, “ that old enchantress,
W ho sole above us henceforth is lamented ?
Didst thou behold how man is freed from her ? 60
Suffice it thee, and smite earth with thy heels,
Thine eyes lift upward to the lure, that whirls
T h e Eternal K ing with revolutions vast.”
Even as the hawk, that first his feet surveys,
Then turns him to the call and stretches forward, 65
Through the desire o f food that draws him thither,
Pzirgatorio xix. 121
Such I became, and such, as far as cleaves

T h e rock to give a w a y to him who mounts,
W ent on to where the circling doth begin.
On the fifth circle when I had come forth, 7°
People I saw upon it who were weeping,

Stretched prone upon the ground, all downward turned.
“ A dhcesit pavimento anima mea ”
I heard them say with sighings so profound,
That hardly could the words be understood. 75
“ O ye elect o f God, whose sufferings

Justice and Hope both render less severe,
Direct ye us towards the high ascents/’
“ If ye are come secure from this prostration,
And wish to find the way most speedily, 80
Let your right hands be evermore outside.”
Thus did the Poet ask, and thus was answered
By them somewhat in front o f u s; whence I
In what was spoken divined the rest concealed,
And unto my Lord’s eyes mine eyes I turned ; «s
W hence he assented with a cheerful sign
T o what the sight o f my desire implored.
When o f myself I could dispose at will,
Above that creature did I draw myself,
Whose words before had caused me to take note, 90
Saying : “ O Spirit, in whom weeping ripens

That without which to God we cannot turn,
Suspend awhile for me thy greater care.
W ho wast thou, and why are your backs turned upwards,
T e ll me, and if thou wouldst that I procure thee 95
Anything there whence living I departed.”

And he to m e : “ W herefore our backs the heaven
Turns to itself, know shalt thou; but beforehand
Scias quod egof u i successor Petri.
Between Siestri and Chiaveri descends 100
A river beautiful, and o f its name
T h e title o f my blood its summit makes.
A month and little more essayed I how [it;
W eighs the great cloak on him from mire who keeps
For all the other burdens seem a feather. 105
Tardy, ah woe is m e ! 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; no
W hereby the love o f this was kindled in me.
Until that time a wretched soul and parted
From God was I, and wholly avaricious;
N ow , as thou seest, I here am punished for it.
Purgatorio xix. 123
W hat avarice does is here made manifest 115

In the purgation o f these souls converted,
And no mpre bitter pain the Mountain has.
Even as our eye did not uplift itself
Aloft, being fastened upon earthly things,
So justice here has merged it in the earth. 120
As avarice had extinguished our affection
For every good, whereby was action lost,
So justice here doth hold us in restraint,
Bound and imprisoned by the feet and hands;
And so long as it pleases the just Lord 125
Shall we remain immovable and prostrate.”
I on my knees had fallen, and wished to speak;
But even as I began, and he was ’ware,
Only by listening, o f my reverence,
“ W hat cause,” he said, “ has downward bent thee thus?”
And I to him : “ For your own dignity, 131
Standing, my conscience stung me with remorse.”
“ Straighten thy legs, and upward raise thee, brother,”
H e answered : “ Err not, fellow-servant am I
W ith thee and with the others to one power. 135
I f e’er that holy, evangelic sound,

W hich sayeth neque nubent, thou hast heard,
W ell canst thou see why in this wise I speak.
N ow go; no longer w ill I have thee linger,

Because thy stay doth incommode my weeping,
W ith which I ripen that which thou hast said.
On earth I have a grandchild named Alagia,
Good in herself, unless indeed our house
Malevolent may make her by example,
And she alone remains to me on earth.”
CANTO XX.
J L L strives the w ill against a better w ill;

Therefore, to pleasure him, against my pleasure
I drew the sponge not saturate from the water.
Onward I moved, and onward moved my Leader,
Through vacant places, skirting still the rock,
As on a wall close to the battlements;
For they that through their eyes pour drop by drop
T h e malady w hich 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 o f hunger infinitely hollow !
O heaven, in whose gyrations some appear
T o think conditions here below are changed,
W hen w ill 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 th em ;
And I by peradventure heard “ Sweet M ary ! ”

Uttered in front o f us amid the weeping
Even as a woman does who is in child-birth;
And in continuance : “ H ow poor thou wast
Is manifested by that hostelry
W here thou didst lay thy sacred burden down.”
Thereafterward I heard: “ O good Fabricius,
Virtue with poverty didst thou prefer
T o the possession o f great wealth with vice.”
So pleasurable were these words to me
T hat I drew farther onward to have knowledge
Touching that spirit whence they seemed to come.
H e furthermore was speaking o f the largess
W hich Nicholas unto the maidens gave,
In order to conduct their youth to honor.
“ O soul that dost so excellently speak,.
T ell me who wast thou,” said I, “ and why only
Thou dost renew these praises well deserved ?
N ot without recompense shall be thy word,
I f I return to finish the short journey
O f that life which is flying to its end.”
And h e : “ I ’11 tell thee, not for any comfort
I may expect from earth, but that so much
Grace shines in thee or ever thou art dead..
Purgatorio xx. i
I was the root o f that malignant plant

W h ich overshadows all the Christian world,
So that good fruit is seldom gathered from i t ;
But if Douay and Ghent and Lille and Bruges
Had power, soon vengeance would be taken on it
And this I pray o f H im who judges all.
Hugh Capet was I called upon the earth ;
From me were born the Louises and Philips,
By whom in later days has France been governed.
I was the son o f a Parisian butcher,
W hat time the ancient kings had perished all,
Excepting one, contrite in cloth o f gray.
I found me grasping in my hands the rein
O f the realm’s government, and so great power
O f new acquest, and so with friends abounding,
That to the widowed diadem promoted
T h e head o f mine own offspring was, from whom
T h e consecrated bones o f these began. •
So long as the great dowry o f Provence
Out o f my blood took not the sense o f shame,
’T was little worth, but still it did no harm.
Then it began with falsehood and with force
Its rapine; and thereafter, for amends,
T ook Ponthieu, Normandy, and Gascony.
Charles came to Italy, and for amends

A victim made o f Conradin, and then
Thrust Thomas back to heaven, for amends.
A time I see, not very distant now, 7°
W hich draweth forth another Charles from France,
T h e better to make known both him and his.
Unarmed he goes, and only with the lance
That Judas jousted w ith ; and that he thrusts
So that he makes the paunch o f Florence burst. 75
H e thence not land, but sin and infamy,

Shall gain, so much more grievous to himself
As the more light such damage he accounts.
T h e other, now gone forth, ta’en in his ship,
See I his daughter sell, and chaffer for her 80
As corsairs do with other female slaves.
W hat more, O Avarice, canst thou do to us,
Since thou my blood so to thyself hast drawn,
It careth not for its own proper flesh ?
T hat less may seem the future ill and past, 85
I see the flower-de-luce Alagna enter,
And Christ in his own Vicar captive made.
I see him yet another time derided;
I see renewed the vinegar and gall,
And between living thieves I see him slain. 9°
Purgatorio xx.
I see the modern Pilate so relentless,

This does not sate him, but without decretal
H e to the temple bears his sordid sails!
W hen, O my Lord! shall I be joyful made
By looking on the vengeance which, concealed,
Makes sweet thine anger in thy secrecy ?
W hat I was saying o f that only bride
O f the H oly Ghost, and w hich occasioned thee
T o turn towards me for some commentary,
So long has been ordained to all our prayers
As the day lasts; but when the night comes on,
Contrary sound we take instead thereof.
A t that time we repeat Pygmalion,
O f whom a traitor, thief, and parricide
Made his insatiable desire o f g o ld ;
And the misery o f avaricious Midas, .
That followed his inordinate demand,
A t which forevermore one needs must laugh.
Th e foolish Achan each one then records,
And how he stole the spoils; so that the wrath
O f Joshua still appears to sting him here.
Then we accuse Sapphira with her husband,
W e laud the hoof-beats Heliodorus had,
And the whole mount in infamy encircles
Polymnestor who murdered Polydorus.

Here finally is cried : ‘ O Crassus, tell us,
For thou dost know, what is the taste o f gold?"
Sometimes we speak, one loud, another low,
According to desire o f speech, that spurs us
T o greater now and now to lesser pace.
But in the good that here by day is talked of,
Erewhile alone I was n o t; yet near by
No other person lifted up his voice.”
From him already we departed were,
And made endeavor to o’ercome the road
As much as was permitted to our power,
W hen I perceived, like something that is falling,
T h e mountain tremble, whence a chill seized on
As seizes him who to his death is going.
Certes so violently shook not Delos,
Before Latona made her nest therein
T o give birth to the two eyes o f the heaven.
Then upon all sides there began a cry,
Such that the Master drew him self towards me,
Saying, “ Fear not, while I am guiding thee.”
“ Gloria in excelsis D eo” all
W ere saying, from what near I comprehended,
W here it was possible to hear the cry.
Purgatorio xx.
W e paused immovable and in suspense,

Even as the shepherds who first heard that song, 140
Until the trembling ceased, and it was finished.
Then we resumed again our holy path,
W atching the shades that lay upon the ground,
Already turned to their accustomed plaint.
No ignorance ever with so great a strife 14s
Had rendered me importunate to know,
I f erreth not in this my memory,
As meditating then I seemed to h ave;
Neither from haste to question did I dare,
N or o f m yself I there could aught perceive; 150
So I went onward timoroas and thoughtful.
%
CANTO XXI.
r~jpHE natural thirst, that ne’er is satisfied

Excepting with the water for whose grace
T h e woman o f Samaria besought,
Put me in travail, and haste goaded me
Along the encumbered path behind my Leader,
And I was pitying that righteous vengeance.
And l o ! in the same manner as Luke writeth
That Christ appeared to two upon the way
From the sepulchral cave already risen,
A shade appeared to us, and came behind us,
Down gazing on the prostrate multitude,
N or were we ware o f it, until it spake,
Saying, “ M y brothers, may God give you peace! ”
W e turned us suddenly, and Virgilius rendered
T o him the countersign thereto conforming.
Thereon began he: “ -In the blessed council,
Thee may the court veracious place in peace,
T hat me doth banish in eternal e x ile ! ”
Purgatorio xxi. 133
“ H ow /’ said he, and the while we went with speed,

“ I f ye are shades whom God deigns not on high, 20
W ho up his stairs so far has guided you ? ”
And said my Teacher : “ I f thou note the marks
W hich this one bears, and which the Angel traces,
W ell shalt thou see he with the good must reign.
But because she who spinneth day and night
For him had not yet drawn the distaff off,
W hich Clotho lays for each one and compacts,
His soul, w hich is thy sister and my own,
In coming upwards could not come alone,
By reason that it sees not in our fashion. 30
W hence I was drawn from-out the ample throat
O f H ell to be his guide, and I shall guide him
As far on as my school has power to lead. ^
But tell us, i f thou knowest, w hy such a shudder
Erewhile the mountain gave, and why together 35
A ll seemed to cry, as far as its moist feet ? ”
In asking he so hit the very eye
O f my desire, that merely with the hope
M y thirst became the less unsatisfied.
“ Naught is there,” he began, “ that without order 40
M ay the religion o f the mountain feel,
N or aught that may be foreign to its custom.
Free is it here from every permutation;

W hat from itself heaven in itself receiveth
Can be o f this the cause, and naught beside;
Because that neither rain, nor hail, nor snow,
Nor dew, nor hoar-frost any higher falls
Than the short, little stairway o f three steps.
Dense clouds do not appear, nor rarefied,
N or coruscation, nor the daughter o f Thaumas,
T hat often upon earth her region shifts;
N o arid vapor any farther rises
Than to the top o f the three steps I spake of,
Whereon the Vicar o f Peter has his feet.
Lower down perchance it trembles less or more,
But, for the wind that in the earth is hidden
I know not how, up here it never trembled.
It trembles here, whenever any soul
Feels itself pure, so that it soars, or moves
T o mount aloft, and such a cry attends it.
O f purity the w ill alone gives proof,
W hich, being w holly free to change its convent,
Takes by surprise the soul, and helps it fly.
First it wills w e ll; but the desire permits not,
W hich divine justice with the self-same will
There was to sin, upon the torment sets.
P u r gala rio xxi. 135
And I, who have been lying in this pain
Five hundred years and more, but just now felt
A free volition for a better seat.
Therefore thou heardst the earthquake, and the pious 70
Spirits along the mountain rendering praise
Unto the Lord, that soon he speed them upwards.”
So said he to h im ; and since we enjoy
As much in drinking as the thirst is great,
I could not say how much it did me good. 75
And the wise Leader : “ N ow I see the net

That snares you here, and how ye are set free,
W h y the earth quakes, and wherefore ye rejoice.
N ow who thou wast be pleased that I may know;
And w hy so many centuries thou hast here 80
Been lying, let me gather from thy words.”
“ In days when the good Titus, with the aid
O f the supremest King, avenged the wounds
W hence issued forth the blood by Judas sold,
Under the name that most endures and honors, 85
Was I on earth,” that spirit made reply,
“ Greatly renowned, but not with faith as yet.
M y vocal spirit was so sweet, that Rome
M e, a Thoulousian, drew unto herself,
W here I deserved to deck my brows with myrtle. 90
Statius the people name me still on earth;

I sang o f Thebes, and then o f great Achilles;
But on the way fell with my second burden.
Th e seeds unto my ardor were the sparks
O f that celestial flame which heated me,
W hereby more than a thousand have been fired;
O f the iEneid speak I, which to me
A mother was, and was my nurse in son g;
W ithout this weighed I not a drachma’s weight.
And to have lived upon the earth what time
Virgilius lived, I would accept one sun
M ore than I must ere issuing from my ban.”
These words towards me made Virgilius turn
W ith looks that in their silence said, “ Be silent!
But yet the power that wills cannot do all things
For tears and laughter are such pursuivants
Unto the passion from which each springs forth,
In the most truthful least the will they follow.
I only smiled, as one who gives the w in k ;
Whereat the shade was silent, and it gazed
Into mine eyes, where most expression dw ells;
And, “ As thou well mayst consummate a labor
So great,” it said, “ why did thy face just now
Display to me the lightning o f a smile ? ”
Purgatorio xxi. 137
N ow am I caught on this side and on th a t; 115

One keeps me silent, one to speak conjures me,
Wherefore I sigh, and I am understood.
“ Speak,” said my Master, “ and be not afraid
O f speaking, but speak out, and say to him
W hat he demands with such solicitude.” 120
W hence I : “ Thou peradventure marvellest,
O antique spirit, at the smile I gave;
But I will have more wonder seize upon thee.
This one3 who guides on high these eyes o f mine,
Is that Virgilius, from whom thou didst learn 125
T o sing aloud o f men and o f the Gods.
I f other cause thou to my* smile imputedst,
Abandon it as false/and trust it was
Those words w hich thou hast spoken concerning him .”
Already he was stooping to embrace 130
M y Teacher’s feet; but he said to him : “ Brother,
D o n o t; for shade thou art, and shade beholdest.”
And he uprising : “ N ow canst thou the sum
O f love w hich warms me to thee comprehend,
W hen this our vanity I disremember, 13s
Treating a shadow as substantial thing.”
18
CANTO XXII0
y ^ L R E A D Y was the Angel left behind us,

T h e Angel who to the sixth round had turned
Having erased one mark from off my face;
And those who have in justice their desire
Had said to us, “ Beati,” in their voices,
W ith “ sitio” and without more ended it.
And I, more light than through the other passes,
W ent onward so, that without any labor
I followed upward the swift-footed spirits;
W hen thus Virgilius began : “ T h e love
Kindled by virtue aye another kindles,
Provided outwardly its flame appear0
Hence from the hour that Juvenal descended
Am ong us into the infernal Limbo,
W ho made apparent to me thy affection,
M y kindliness towards thee was as great
As ever bound one to an unseen person,
So that these stairs will now seem short to me.
Pttrgatorio xxn. i
But tell me, and forgive me as a friend,

I f too great confidence let loose the rein,
And as a friend now hold discourse with m e ;
How was it possible within thy breast
For avarice to find place, 'mid so much wisdom
As thou wast filled with by thy diligence ? ”
These words excited Statius at first
Somewhat to laughter; afterward he answered:
“ Each word o f thine is love’s dear sign to me.
Verily oftentimes do things appear
W hich give fallacious matter to our doubts,
Instead o f the true causes which are hidden !
T h y question shows me thy belief to be
That I was niggard in the other life,
It may be from the circle where I was ;
Therefore know thou, that avarice was removed
Too far from m e; and this extravagance
Thousands o f lunar periods have punished.
And were it not that I my thoughts uplifted,
W hen I the passage heard where thou exclaimest,
As if indignant, unto human nature,
‘ To what impellest thou not, O cursed hunger
O f gold, the appetite o f mortal men ?y
Revolving I should feel the dismal joustings.
Then I perceived the hands could spread too wide

Their wings in spending, and repented me
As well o f that as o f my other sins;
H ow many with shorn hair shall rise again
Because o f ignorance, which from this sin
Cuts off repentance living and in death!
And know that the transgression which rebuts
By direct opposition any sin
Together with it here its verdure dries.
Therefore if I have been among that folk
W hich mourns its avarice, to purify me,
For its opposite has this befallen me.”
“ Now when thou sangest the relentless weapons
O f the twofold affliction o f Jocasta,”
T h e singer o f the Songs Bucolic said,
“ From that which Clio there with thee preludes,
It does not seem that yet had made thee faithful
That faith without which no good works suffice.
I f this be so, what candles or what sun
Scattered thy darkness so that thou didst trim
T h y 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.
Purgatorio xxn 141
Thou didst as he who walketh in the night,

W ho bears his light behind, which helps him not,
But maketh wise the persons after him,
W hen thou didst say: ‘ T h e age renews itself, 70
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,
T o color it w ill I extend my hand. 75
Already was the world in every part

Pregnant with the true creed, disseminated
By messengers o f the eternal kingdom;
And thy assertion, spoken o f above,
• W ith the new preachers was in unison ; 80
W hence I to visit them the custom took.
Then they became so holy in my sight,
That, when Domitian persecuted them,
N ot without tears o f mine were their laments;
And all the while that I on earth remained, 85
Them I befriended, and their upright customs
Made me disparage all the other sects.
And ere I led the Greeks unto the rivers
O f Thebes, in poetry, I was baptized*
But out o f fear was covertly a Christian, 9°
For a long time professing paganism;

And this lukewarmness caused me the fourth circle
T o circuit round more than four centuries.
Thou, therefore, who hast raised the covering
That hid from me the good o f which I speak, 9s
W hile in ascending we have time to spare,
T ell me, in what place is our friend Terentius,
Caecilius, Plautus, Varro, if thou know est;
T ell me if they are damned, and in what alley.”
“ These, Persius and myself, and others many,” 100
Replied my Leader, “ with that Grecian are
W hom more than all the rest the Muses suckled,
In the first circle o f the prison blind ;
Ofttimes we o f the mountain hold discourse
W hich hath our nurses ever with itself. 105
Euripides is with us, Antiphon,
Simonides, Agatho, and many other
Greeks who o f old their brows with laurel decked.
There some o f thine own people may be seen,
Antigone, Deiphile and Argia, no
And there Ismene mournful as o f old.
There she is seen who pointed out L an gia;
There is Tiresias5 daughter^ and there Thetis,
And there Deidamia with her sisters,”
Purgatorio x x ii . I 1';; '
Silent alread y were the poets both, ^ '
Attent once more in looking round about,
From the ascent and from the walls released;
And four handmaidens o f the day already
W ere left behind, and at the pole the fifth
Was pointing upward still its burning horn,
W hat time my Guide : “ I think that tow’rds the edge
Our dexter shoulders it behoves us turn,
Circling the mount as we are wont to do.”
Thus in that region custom was our guide;
And we resumed our way with less suspicion
For the assenting o f that worthy soul.
They in advance went on, and I alone
Behind them, and I listened to their speech,
W h ich gave me lessons in the art o f song.
But soon their sweet discourses interrupted
A tree w hich midway in the road we found,
W ith apples sweet and grateful to the smell.
And even as a fir-tree tapers upward
From bough to bough, so downwardly did th a t;
I think in order that no one might climb it.
On that side where our pathway was enclosed
Fell from the lofty rock a limpid water,
And spread itself abroad upon the leaves.
T h e Poets twain unto the tree drew near,

And from among the foliage a voice
Cried : “ O f this food ye shall have scarcity.”
Then said : “ M ore thoughtful M ary was o f making
T h e marriage feast complete and honorable,
Than o f her mouth w hich now for you responds;
And for their drink the ancient Roman women
W ith water were content; and Daniel
Disparaged food, and understanding won.
T h e primal age was beautiful as g o ld ;
Acorns it made with hunger savorous,
And nectar every rivulet with thirst.
Honey and locusts were the aliments
That fed the Baptist in the wilderness;
W hence he is glorious, and so magnified
As by the Evangel is revealed to you.”
CANTO XXIII.
' p H E while among the verdant leaves mine eyes

I riveted, as he is wont to do
W ho wastes his life pursuing little birds,
M y more than Father said unto m e : “ Son,
Come now; because the time that is ordained us
More usefully should be apportioned out.”
I turned my face and no less soon my steps
Unto the Sages, who were speaking so
They made the going o f no cost to m e ;
And l o ! were heard a song and a lament,
“ Labia mea, Domine,” in fashion
Such that delight and dolence it brought forth.
“ O my sweet Father, what is this I hear ? ”
Began I ; .and he answered : “ Shades that go
Perhaps the knot unloosing o f their debt.”
In the same way that thoughtful pilgrims do,
W ho, unknown people on the road o’ertaking,
Turn themselves round to them, and do not stop,
Even thus, behind us with a swifter motion

Coming and passing onward, gazed upon us
A crowd o f spirits silent and devout.
Each in his eyes was dark and cavernous,
Pallid in face, and so emaciate
That from the bones the skin did shape itself.
I do not think that so to merest rind
Could Erisichthon have been withered up
By famine, when most fear he had o f it.
Thinking within m yself I said : “ Behold,
This is the folk who lost Jerusalem,
W hen Mary made a prey o f her own son.”
T heir sockets were like rings without the gem s;
W hoever in the face o f men reads o?no
M ight well in these have recognized the m,
W ho would believe the odor o f an apple,
Begetting longing, could consume them so,
And that o f water, without knowing how?
I still was wondering what so famished them,
For the occasion not yet manifest
O f their emaciation and sad squalor ;
And lo ! from out the hollow o f his head
His eyes a shade turned on me, and looked keenly
Then cried aloud: “ W hat grace to me is this ? ”
Purgatorio xxm.
Never should I have known him by his lo o k ;

But in his voice was evident to me
That which his aspect had suppressed within it.
This spark within me wholly re-enkindled
M y recognition o f his altered face,
And I recalled the features o f Forese.
“ Ah, do not look at this dry leprosy,”
Entreated he, “ w hich doth my skin discolor,
Nor at default o f flesh that I may h ave;
But tell me truth o f thee, and who are those
T w o souls, that yonder make for thee an escort
Do not delay in speaking unto me.”
“ That face o f thine, w h ich dead I once bewept,
Gives me for weeping now no lesser grief,”
I answered him, “ beholding it so changed!
But tell me, for G od’s sake, what thus denudes you ?
M ake me not speak while I am marvelling,
For ill speaks he w h o ’s full o f other longings.”
And he to me : “ From the eternal council
Falls power into the water and the tree
Behind us left, whereby I grow so thin.
A ll o f this people who lamenting sing,
For following beyond measure appetite
In hunger and thirst are here re-sanctified.
Desire to eat and drink enkindles in us

T h e scent that issues from the apple-tree,
And from the spray that sprinkles o’er the verdure;
And not a single time alone, this ground 7°
Encircling, is renewed our pain,—

I say our pain, and ought to say our solace,—
For the same wish doth lead us to the tree
W hich led the Christ rejoicing to say Eli,
W hen with his veins he liberated us.” 75
And I to him : “ Forese, from that day
W hen for a better life thou changedst worlds,
U p to this time five years have not rolled round.
I f sooner were the power exhausted in thee
O f sinning more, than thee the hour surprised 80
O f that good sorrow which to God reweds us,
H ow hast thou come up hitherward already ?
I thought to find thee down there underneath,
W here time for time doth restitution make.”
And he to m e : “ Thus speedily has led me 85
T o drink o f the sweet wormwood o f these torments,
M y Nella with her overflowing tears;
She with her prayers devout and with her sighs
Has drawn me from the coast where one awaits,
And from the other circles set me free. 90
Purgatorio xxm.
So much more dear and pleasing is to God

M y little widow, whom so much I loved,
As in good works she is the more alone;
For the Barbagia o f Sardinia
By far more modest in its women is 95
Than the Barbagia I have left her in.
O brother sweet, what wilt thou have me say ?
A future time is in my sight already,
T o w hich this hour will not be very old,
W hen from the pulpit shall be interdicted 100
T o the unblushing womankind o f Florence
T o go about displaying breast and paps.
W hat savages were e’er, what Saracens,
W h o stood in need, to make them covered go,
O f spiritual or other discipline ? 105
But if the shameless women were assured
O f what swift Heaven prepares for them, already
W ide open would they have their mouths to h o w l;
For i f my foresight here deceive me not,
They shall be sad ere he has bearded cheeks no
W ho now is hushed to sleep with lullaby.
O brother, now no longer hide thee from me;
See that not only I, but all these people
Are gazing there, where thou dost veil the sun.”
W hence I to him : “ I f thou bring back to mind 115

W hat thou with me hast been and I with thee,
Th e present memory w ill be grievous still.
Out o f that life he turned me back who goes
In front o f me, two days agone when round
T h e sister o f him yonder showed herself,” 120
And to the sun I pointed. “ Through the deep
N ight o f the truly dead has this one led me,
W ith this true flesh, that follows after him.
Thence his encouragements have led me up,
Ascending and still circling round the mount
That you doth straighten, whom the world made
H e says that he w ill bear me company, [crooked.
T ill I shall be where Beatrice will b e ;
There it behoves me to remain without him.
This is Virgilius, who thus says to me,” 130
And him I pointed a t ; “ the other is
That shade for whom just now shook every slope
Your realm, that from itself discharges him .”
CANTO XXIV.
N0Rspeech the going, nor the going that

Slackened; but talking we went bravely on,
Even as a vessel urged by a good wind.
And shadows, that appeared things doubly dead,
From out the sepulchres o f their eyes betrayed
Wonder at me, aware that I was living.
And I, continuing my colloquy,
Said : “ Peradventure he goes up more slowly
Than he would do, for other people’s sake.
But tell me, if thou knowest, where is Piccarda;
T ell me if any one o f note I see
Among this folk that gazes at me so.”
“ M y sister, who, 'tw ixt beautiful and good,
I know not which was more, triumphs rejoicing
Already in her crown on high Olympus.”
So said he first, and then : “ ’T is not forbidden
T o name each other here, so milked away
Is our resemblance by our dieting.
This,” pointing with his finger, “ is Buonagiunta,

Buonagiunta o f Lucca ; and that face
Beyond him there, more peaked than the others,
Has held the holy Church within his arm s;
From Tours was he, and purges by his fastings
Bolsena’s eels and the Vernaccia wine.”
H e named me many others one by one;
And all contented seemed at being named,
So that for this I saw not one dark look*
I saw for hunger bite the empty air ^
Ubaldin dalla Pila, and Boniface,
W ho with his crook had pastured many people.
I saw Messer Marchese, who had leisurev
Once at Forli for drinking with less dryness,
And he was one who ne’er felt satisfied.
But as he does who scans, and then doth prize
One more than others, did I him o f Lucca,
W ho seemed to take most cognizance o f me.
He murmured, and I know not what Gentucca
From that place heard I, where he felt the wound
O f justice, that doth macerate them so.
“ O soul,” I said, “ that seemest so desirous
T o speak with me, do so that I may hear thee,
And with thy speech appease thyself and me.”
Purgatorio xxiv. 153
“ A maid is born, and wears not yet the veil,”

Began he, “ who to thee shall pleasant make
M y city, howsoever men may blame it. 45
Thou shalt go on thy way with this prevision;
I f by my murmuring thou hast been deceived,
True things hereafter w ill declare it to thee.
But say if him I here behold, who forth
Evoked the new-invented rhymes, beginning, 5°
Ladies, that have intelligence of love ? ”
And I to h im : “ One am I, who, whenever
Love doth inspire me, note, and in that measure
W hich he within me dictates, singing go.”
“ O brother, now I see,” he said, “ the knot 55
W hich me, the Notary, and Guittone held
Short o f the sweet new style that now I hear.
I do perceive full clearly how your pens
Go closely following after him who dictates,
W hich with our own forsooth came not to pass; 60
And he who sets himself to go beyond,
N o difference sees from one style to another” ;
And as if satisfied, he held his peace.
Even as the birds, that winter tow’rds the Nile,
Sometimes into a phalanx form themselves, 65
Then fly in greater haste, and go in file;
In such wise all the people who were there,

Turning their faces, hurried on their steps,
Both by their leanness and their wishes light.
And as a man, who weary is with trotting,
Lets his companions onward go, and walks,
Until he vents the panting o f his chest;
So did Forese let the holy flock
Pass by, and came with me behind it, saying,
“ W hen will it be that I again shall see thee ? 5
“ H ow long,” I answered, “ I may live, I know not
Y et my return will not so speedy be,
But I shall sooner in desire arrive;
Because the place where I was set to live
From day to day o f good is more depleted,
And unto dismal ruin seems ordained.”
“ N ow go,” he said, “ for him most guilty o f it
A t a beast’s tail behold I dragged along
Towards the valley where is no repentance.
Faster at every step the beast is going,
Increasing evermore until it smites him,
And leaves the body vilely mutilated.
N ot long those wheels shall turn,” and he uplifted
His eyes to heaven, “ ere shall be clear to thee
That which my speech no farther can declare.
Pttrgatorio xxiv.
N ow stay behind; because the time so precious

Is in this kingdom, that I lose too much
By coming onward thus abreast with thee.”
As sometimes issues forth upon a gallop
A cavalier from out a troop that ride,
And seeks the honor o f the first encounter,
So he with greater strides departed from us;
And on the road remained I with those two,
W ho were such mighty marshals o f the world.
And when before us he had gone so far
Mine eyes became to him such pursuivants
As was my understanding to his words,
Appeared to me with laden and living boughs
Another apple-tree, and not far distant,
From having but just then turned thitherward.
People I saw beneath it lift their hands,
And cry I know not what towards the leaves,
L ike little children eager and deluded,
W ho pray, and he they pray to doth not answer,
But, to make very keen their appetite,
Holds their desire aloft, and hides it not.
Then they departed as if undeceived;
And now we came unto the mighty tree
W h ich prayers and tears so manifold refuses.
“ Pass farther onward without drawing near; 115

T h e tree o f which Eve ate is higher up,
And out o f that one has this tree been raised.”
Thus said I know not who among the branches;
W hereat Virgilius, Statius, and m yself
W ent crowding forward on the side that rises. 120
“ Be mindful,” said he, “ o f the accursed ones
Formed o f the cloud-rack, who inebriate
Combated Theseus with their double breasts;
And o f the Jews who showed them soft in drinking,
W hence Gideon would not have them for companions,
W hen he tow’rds Midian the hills descended.” 126
Thus, closely pressed to one o f the two borders,
On passed we, hearing sins o f gluttony,
Followed forsooth by miserable gains;
Then set at large upon the lonely road, 130
A thousand steps and more we onward went,
In contemplation, each without a word.
“ W hat go ye thinking thus, ye three alone?”
Said suddenly a voice, whereat I started
As terrified and timid beasts are wont. 135
I raised my head to see who this m ight be,
And never in a furnace was there seen
Metals or glass so lucent and so red
Purgatorio xxiv
As one I saw who said: “ I f it may please you

T o mount aloft, here it behoves you turn;
This way goes he who goeth after peace.”
His aspect had bereft me o f my sight,
So that I turned me back unto my Teachers,
L ike one who goeth as his hearing guides him.
And as, the harbinger o f early dawn,
T h e air o f M ay doth move and breathe out fragr
Impregnate all with herbage and with flowers,
So did I feel a breeze strike in the midst
M y front, and felt the moving o f the plumes
That breathed around an odor o f ambrosia;
And heard it said: “ Blessed are they whom grace
So much illuminfes, that the love o f taste
Excites not in their breasts too great desire,
Hungering at all times so far as is just.”
CANTO XXV.
O W was it the ascent no hindrance brooked,

Because the sun had his meridian circle *
T o Taurus left, and night to Scorpio;
Wherefore as doth a man who tarries not,
But goes his way, whate’er to him appear,
I f o f necessity the sting transfix him,
In this wise did we enter through the gap,
Taking the stairway, one before the other,
W hich by its narrowness divides the climbers.
And as the little stork that lifts its wing
W ith a desire to fly, and does not venture
T o leave the nest, and lets it downward droop,
Even such was I, with the desire o f asking
Kindled and quenched, unto the motion coming
H e makes who doth address him self to speak.
N ot for our pace, though rapid it might be,
M y father sweet forbore, but said: “ Let fly
T h e bow o f speech thou to the barb hast drawn.”
Purgatorio xxv 1 59
W ith confidence I opened then my mouth,

And I began : “ H ow can one meagre grow 20
There where the need o f nutriment applies not ? ”
“ I f thou wouldst call to mind how Meleager
Was wasted by the wasting o f a brand,
This would not,” said he, “ be to thee so sour;
And wouldst thou think how at each tremulous motion 25
Trembles within a mirror your own im age;
That w hich seems hard would mellow seem to thee.
But that thou mayst content thee in thy wish
Lo Statius h e re ; and him I call and pray
H e now w ill be the healer o f thy wounds.” 30
“ I f I unfold to him the eternal vengeance,”

Responded Statius, “ where thou present art,
Be my excuse that I can naught deny thee.”
Then he began : “ Son, if these words o f mine
T h y mind doth contemplate and doth receive, 35
T h ey ’ 11 be thy light unto the H ow thou sayest.
The perfect blood, which never is drunk up
Into the thirsty veins, and which remaineth
L ike food that from the table thou removest,
Takes in the heart for all the human members 4°
Virtue informative, as being that
W hich to be changed to them goes through the veins.
Again digest, descends it where ’t is better

Silent to be than say; and then drops thence
Upon another’s blood in natural vase.
There one together with the other mingles,
One to be passive meant, the other active
By reason o f the perfect place it springs from
And being conjoined, begins to operate,
Coagulating first, then vivifying
W hat for its matter it had made consistent.
T h e active virtue, being made a soul
As o f a plant, (in so far different,
This on the way is, that arrived already,)
Then works so much, that now it moves and feels
L ike a sea-fungus, and then undertakes
T o organize the powers whose seed it is.
N ow, Son, dilates and now distends itself
T h e virtue from the generator’s heart,
W here nature is intent on all the members.
But how from animal it man becomes
Thou dost not see as y e t; this is a point
W hich made a wiser man than thou once err
So far, that in his doctrine separate
H e made the soul from possible intellect,
For he no organ saw by this assumed.
Purgatorio xxv
Open thy breast unto the truth that ’s coming,

And know that, just as soon as in the foetus
T h e articulation o f the brain is perfect,
T h e primal Motor turns to it well pleased
A t so great art o f nature, and inspires
A spirit new with virtue all replete,
W h ich what it finds there active doth attract
Into its substance, and becomes one soul,
W hich lives, and feels, and on itself revolves.
And that thou less may wonder at my word,
Behold the sun’s heat, which becometh wine,
Joined to the juice that from the vine distils.
Whenever Lachesis has no 'more thread,
It separates from the flesh, and virtually
Bears with itself the human and divine;
T h e other faculties are voiceless a l l ;
Th e memory, the intelligence, and the will
In action far more vigorous than before.
W ithout a pause it falleth o f itself
In marvellous way on one shore or the other;
There o f its roads it first is cognizant.
Soon as the place there circumscribeth it,
T h e virtue informative rays round about,
As, and as much as, in the living members.
And even as the air, when full o f rain,

By alien rays that are therein reflected,
W ith divers colors shows itself adorned,
So there the neighboring air doth shape itself
Into that form which doth impress upon it
Virtually the soul that has stood still.
And then in manner o f the little flame,
W hich followeth the fire where’er it shifts,
After the spirit followeth its new form.
Since afterwards it takes from this its semblance,
It is called shade; and thence it organizes
Thereafter every sense, even to the sight.
Thence is it that we speak, and thence we laugh;
Thence is it that we form the tears and sighs,
That on the mountain thou mayhap hast heard.
According as impress us our desires
And other affections, so the shade is shaped,
And this is cause o f what thou wonderest at.”
And now unto the last o f all the circles
Had we arrived, and to the right hand turned,
And were attentive to another care.
There the embankment shoots forth flames o f fire,
And upward doth the cornice breathe a blast
That drives them back, and from itself sequesters.
Purgatorio xxv 163
Hence we must needs go on the open side, 115

And one by one; and I did fear the fire
On this side, and on that the falling down.
M y Leader said : “ Along this place one ought
T o keep upon the eyes a tightened rein,
Seeing that one so easily might err.” 120
“ Summce Deus clementice,” in the bosom
O f the great burning chanted then I heard,
W hich made me no less eager to turn round;
And spirits saw I walking through the flam e;
Wherefore I looked, to my own steps and theirs 125
Apportioning my sight from time to time.
After the close which to that hymn is made,
Aloud they shouted, “ Virum non cognosco
Then recommenced the hymn with voices low.
This also ended, cried th ey: “ T o the wood 130
Diana ran, and drove forth Helice
Therefrom, who had o f Venus felt the poison.”
Then to their song returned th e y ; then the wives
T h e y shouted, and the husbands who were chaste,
As virtue and the marriage vow imposes. 135
And I believe that them this mode suffices,

For all the time the fire is burning them;
W ith such care is it needful, and such food,
T hat the last wound o f all should be closed up.
CANTO XXVI .
'Y ^ H I L E on the brink thus one before the other

W e went upon our way, oft the good Master
Said : “ Take thou heed ! suffice it that I warn thee.”
On the right shoulder smote me now the sun,
That, raying out, already the whole west 5
Changed from its azure aspect into white.
And with my shadow did I make the flame
Appear more red ; and even to such a sign
Shades saw I many, as they went, give heed.
This was the cause that gave them a beginning 10
T o speak o f me; and to themselves began they
T o say : “ That seems not a factitious body ! ”
Then towards me, as far as they could come,
Came certain o f them, always with regard
N ot to step forth where they would not be burned. 15
“ O thou who goest, not from being slower
But reverent perhaps, behind the others,
Answer me, who in thirst and fire am burning.
Purgatorio xxvi. i
N or to me only is thine answer needful;

For all o f these have greater thirst for it
Than for cold water Ethiop or Indian.
T e ll us how is it that thou makest thyself
A wall unto the sun, as i f thou hadst not
Entered as yet into the net o f death.”
Thus one o f them addressed me, and I straight
Should have revealed myself, were I not bent
On other novelty that then appeared.
For through the middle o f the burning road
There came a people face to face with these,
W hich held me in suspense with gazing at them.
There see I hastening upon either side
Each o f the shades, and kissing one another
W ithout a pause, content with brief salute.
Thus in the middle o f their brown battalions
M uzzle to muzzle one ant meets another
Perchance to spy their journey or their fortune.
N o sooner is the friendly greeting ended,
Or ever the first footstep passes onward,
Each one endeavors to outcry the other;
Th e new-come people : “ Sodom and Gomorrah ! ’
T h e rest: “ Into the cow Pasiphae enters,
So that the bull unto her lust may run! ”
Then as the cranes, that to Riphaean mountains

M ight fly in part, and part towards the sands,
These o f the frost, those o f the sun avoidant, 45
One folk is going, and the other coming,
And weeping they return to their first songs,
And to the cry that most befitteth th em ;
And close to me approached, even as before,
T h e very same who had entreated me, 50
Attent to listen in their countenance.

I, who their inclination twice had seen,
Began : “ O souls secure in the possession,
W hene’er it may be, o f a state o f peace,
Neither unripe nor ripened have remained 55
M y members upon earth, but here are with me
W ith their own blood and their articulations.
I go up here to be no longer blind;
A Lady is above, who wins this grace,
Whereby the mortal through your world I bring. 60
But as your greatest longing satisfied
M ay soon become, so that the Heaven may house you
W h ich full o f love is, and most amply spreads,
T ell me, that I again in books may write it,
W ho are you, and what is that multitude 65
W hich goes upon its way behind your backs?”
Purgatorio xxvi. 167
Not otherwise with wonder is bewildered

T h e mountaineer, and staring round is dumb,
W hen rough and rustic to the town he goes,
Than every shade became in its appearance; 7°
But when they o f their stupor were disburdened,
- W hich in high hearts is quickly quieted,
“ Blessed be thou, who o f our border-lands,”
H e recommenced who first had questioned us,
“ Experience freightest for a better life. 75
T h e folk that comes not with us have offended

In that for which once Cassar, triumphing,
Heard him self called in contumely, ‘ Queen.’
Therefore they separate, exclaiming, ‘ Sodom !’
Themselves reproving, even as thou hast heard, 80
And add unto their burning by their shame.
Our own transgression was hermaphrodite;
But because we observed not human law,
Following like unto beasts our appetite,
In our opprobrium by us is read, 85
W hen we part company, the name o f her
W ho bestialized herself in bestial wood.
N ow knowest thou our acts, and what our crime was;
Wouldst thou perchance by name know who we are,
There is not time to tell, nor could I do it. 9°
T h y wish to know me shall in sooth be granted;

I ’m Guido Guinicelli, and now purge me,
Having repented ere the hour extreme.”
T h e same that in the sadness o f Lycurgus
T w o sons became, their mother re-beholding,
Such I became, but rise not to such height,
Th e moment I heard name him self the father
O f me and o f my betters, who had ever
Practised the sweet and gracious rhymes o f love;
And without speech and hearing thoughtfully
For a long time I went, beholding him,
Nor for the fire did I approach him nearer.
W hen I was fed with looking, utterly
M yself I offered ready for his service,
W ith affirmation that compels belief.
And he to m e : “ Thou leavest footprints such
In me, from what I hear, and so distinct,
Lethe cannot efface them, nor make dim.
But if thy words just now the truth have sworn,
T ell me what is the cause why thou displayest
In word and look that dear thou holdest m e ? ”
And I to him : “ Those dulcet lays o f yours
W hich, long as shall endure our modern fashion,
Shall make forever dear their very in k ! ”
Ptirgatorio xxvi ( V 169
“ O brother,” said he, “ he whom I point out, ‘' us

And here he pointed at a spirit in front,
“ Was o f the mother tongue a better smith.
Verses o f love and proses o f romance,
H e mastered all; and let the idiots talk,
W ho think the Lemosin surpasses him. i*o
T o clamor more than truth they turn their faces,
And in this way establish their opinion,
Ere art or reason has by them been heard.
Thus many ancients with Guittone did,
From cry to cry still giving him applause, 125
Until the truth has conquered with most persons.
Now , if thou hast such ample privilege
’T is granted thee to go unto the cloister
W herein is Christ the abbot o f the college,
T o him repeat for me a Paternoster, 13°
So far as needful to us o f this world,
W here power o f sinning is no longer ours.”
Then, to give place perchance to one behind,
W hom he had near, he vanished in the fire
As fish in water going to the bottom. ns
I moved a little tow’rds him pointed out,
And said that to his name my own desire
An honorable place was making ready.
22
H e o f his own free will began to s a y :

Tan ni abellis vostre cortes deman, 140
§>ue jeu nom’ puesc ni vueill a vos cobrire ;

Jeu sui Arnaut, que plor e vai chantan;
Consiros vei la passada folor ,
E vei jauzen lo jorn qu esper denan.
A ra vus prec per aquella valor, i45
Que vus condus al som de la scalina,
Sovenga vus a te?nprar ?na dolor*
T h en hid him in the fire that purifies them.
* So pleases me your courteous demand,

I cannot and I will not hide me from you.
I am Arnaut, who weep and singing g o ;
Contrite I see the folly of the past,
And joyous see the hoped-for day before me.
Therefore do I implore you, by that power
W hich guides you to the summit of the stairs,
Be mindful to assuage my suffering !
CANTO XXVII.
J\^S when he vibrates forth his earliest rays,

In regions where his M aker shed his blood,
(The Ebro falling under lofty Libra,
And waters in the Ganges burnt with noon,)
So stood the Sun; hence was the day departing,
W hen the glad Angel o f God appeared to us.
Outside the flame he stood upon the verge,
And chanted forth, “ Beati mundo corde
In voice by far more living than our own.
T h e n : “ N o one farther goes, souls sanctified,
I f first the fire bite n o t; within it enter,
And be not deaf unto the song beyond.”
W hen we were close beside him thus he said;
Wherefore e’en such became I, when I heard him,
As he is who is put into the grave.
Upon my clasped hands I straightened me,
Scanning the fire, and vividly recalling
T h e human bodies I had once seen burned.
Towards me turned themselves my good Conductors,

And unto me Virgilius said: “ M y son,
Here may indeed be torment, but not death.
Remember thee, remember! and if I
On Geryon have safely guided thee,
W hat shall I do now I am nearer God?
Believe for certain, shouldst thou stand a full
Millennium in the bosom o f this flame,
It could not make thee bald a single hair.
And if perchance thou think that I deceive thee,
Draw near to it, and put it to the proof
W ith thine own hands upon thy garment’s hem.
N ow lay aside, now lay aside all fear,
Turn hitherward, and onward come securely” ;
And I still motionless, and ’gainst my conscience
Seeing me stand still‘motionless and stubborn,
Somewhat disturbed he said : “ N ow look thou, Son
’T w ixt Beatrice and thee there is this wall.”
As at the name of Thisbe oped his lids
Th e dying Pyramus, and gazed upon her,
W hat time the mulberry became vermilion,
Even thus, my obduracy being softened,
I turned to my wise Guide, hearing the name
That in my memory evermore is welling.
Purgatorio xxvn.
Whereat he wagged his head, and said: “ H ow now
Shall we stay on this side?” then smiled as one
Does at a child who ’s vanquished by an apple.
Then into the fire in front o f me he entered,
Beseeching Statius to come after me,
W ho a long way before divided us.
W hen I was in it, into molten glass
I would have cast me to refresh myself,
So without measure was the burning there!
And my sweet Father, to encourage me,
Discoursing still o f Beatrice went on,
Saying : “ H er eyes I seem to see already ! ”
A voice, that on the other'side was singing,
Directed us, and we, attent alone
On that, came forth where the ascent began.
“Venite, benedieti Patris mei
Sounded within a splendor, which was there
Such it o’ercame me, and I could not look.
“ T h e sun departs,” it added, “ and night cometh ;
Tarry ye not, but onward urge your steps,
So long as yet the west becomes not dark.”
Straight forward through the rock the path ascended
In such a way that I cut off the rays
Before me o f the sun, that now was low.
And o f few stairs we yet had made assay,

Ere by the vanished shadow the sun’s setting
Behind us we perceived, I and my Sages.
And ere in all its parts immeasurable
T h e horizon o f one aspect had become,
And N ight her boundless dispensation held,
Each o f us o f a stair had made his b ed ;
Because the nature o f the mount took from us
T h e power o f climbing, more than the delight.
Even as in ruminating passive grow
T h e goats, who have been swift and venturesome
Upon the mountain-tops ere they were fed,
Hushed in the shadow, while the sun is hot,
Watched by the herdsman, who upon his staff
Is leaning, and in leaning tendeth them ;
And as the shepherd, lodging out o f doors,
Passes the night beside his quiet flock,
W atching that no wild beast may scatter it,
Such at that hour were we, all three o f us,
I like the goat, and like the herdsmen they,
Begirt on this side and on that by rocks.
Little could there be seen o f things w ith ou t;
But through that little I beheld the stars
More luminous and larger than their wont.
Purgatorio xxvn. 175
Thus ruminating, and beholding these,

Sleep seized upon me, — sleep, that oftentimes
Before a deed is done has tidings o f it.
It was the hour, I think, when from the East
First on the mountain Citherea beamed, 95
W h o with the fire o f love seems always burning;

Youthful and beautiful in dreams methought
I saw a lady walking in a meadow,
Gathering flowers; and singing she was saying:
“ K now whosoever may my name demand 100
T h at I am Leah, and go moving round
M y beauteous hands to make m yself a garland.
T o please me at the mirror, here I deck me,
But never doth my sister Rachel leave
H er looking-glass, and sitteth all day long. 105
T o see her beauteous eyes as eager is she,
As I am to adorn me with my hands;
Her, seeing, and me, doing satisfies.”
And now before the antelucan splendors
That unto pilgrims the more grateful rise, no
As, home-returning, less remote they lodge,
T h e darkness fled away on every side,
And slumber with i t ; whereupon I rose,
Seeing already the great Masters risen.
“ That apple sweet, which through so many branches 115

T h e care o f mortals goeth in pursuit of,
To-day shall put in peace thy hungerings.”
Speaking to me, Virgilius o f such words
As these made use; and never were there gifts
That could in pleasantness compare with these. 120
Such longing upon longing came upon me
T o be above, that at each step thereafter
For flight I felt in me the pinions growing.
W hen underneath us was the stairway all
Run o’er, and we were on the highest step, 125
Virgilius fastened upon me his eyes,
And said: “ T h e temporal fire and the eternal,
Son, thou hast seen, and to a place art come
W here o f myself no farther I discern.
By intellect and art I here have brought thee; 130
T ake thine own pleasure for thy guide henceforth;
Beyond the steep ways and the narrow art thou.
Behold the sun, that shines upon thy forehead;
Behold the grass, the flowerets, and the shrubs
W hich o f itself alone this land produces. 135
Until rejoicing come the beauteous eyes
W hich weeping caused me to come unto thee,
Thou canst sit down, and thou canst w alk among them.
Purgatorio xxvn.
Expect no more or word or sign from m e ;

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 m itre! ”
CANTO X X F ill.
JI^ A G E R already to search in and round

T h e heavenly forest, dense and living-green,
W hich tempered to the eyes the new-born day,
W ithouten more delay I left the bank,
Takin g the level country slowly, slowly
Over the soil that everywhere breathes fragrance.
A softly-breathing air, that no mutation
Had in itself, upon the forehead smote me
N o heavier blow than o f a gentle wind,
Whereat the branches, lightly tremulous,
D id all o f them bow downward toward that side
W here its first shadow casts the H oly Mountain;
Y et not from their upright direction swayed,
So that the little birds upon their tops
Should leave the practice o f each art o f theirs;
But with full ravishment the hours o f prime,
Singing, received they in the midst o f leaves,
T hat ever bore a burden to their rhymes,
Piirgatorio xxvm. 179
Such as from branch to branch goes gathering on

Through the pine forest on the shore o f Chiassi, *o
W hen Eolus unlooses the Sirocco.
Already my slow steps had carried me
Into the ancient wood so far, that I
Could not perceive where I had entered it.
And lo! my further course a stream cut off, *5
W hich tow’rd the left hand with its little waves
Bent down the grass that on its margin grew.
A ll waters that on earth most limpid are
W ould seem to have within themselves some mixture
Compared with that w hich nothing doth conceal, 30
Although it moves on wifh a brown, brown current
Under the shade perpetual, that never
Ray o f the sun lets in, nor o f the moon.
W ith feet I stayed, and with mine eyes I passed
Beyond the rivulet, to look upon 35
The great variety o f the fresh may.
And there appeared to me (even as appears
Suddenly something that doth turn aside
Through very wonder every other thought)
A lady all alone, who went along 40
Singing and culling floweret after floweret,
W ith which her pathway was all painted over.
“ Ah, beauteous lady, who in rays o f love
Dost warm thyself, if I may trust to looks,
W hich the heart’s witnesses are wont to be,
May the desire come unto thee to draw
Near to this river’s bank,” I said to her,
“ So much that I may hear what thou art singing.
Thou makest me remember where and what
Proserpina that moment was when lost
Her mother her, and she herself the Spring.”
As turns herself, with feet together pressed
And to the ground, a lady who is dancing,
And hardly puts one foot before the other,
On the vermilion and the yellow flowerets
She turned towards me, not in other wise
Than maiden who her modest eyes casts down ;
And my entreaties made to be content,
So near approaching, that the dulcet sound
Came unto me together with its meaning.
As soon as she was where the grasses are
Bathed by the waters o f the beauteous river,
T o lift her eyes she granted me the boon.
I do not think there shone so great a light
Under the lids o f Venus, when transfixed
By her own son, beyond his usual custom!
Purgatorio x x v iii. 181
Erect upon the other bank she smiled,

Bearing full many colors in her hands,
W hich that high land produces without seed.
Apart three paces did the river make us; 7°
But Hellespont, where Xerxes passed across,

(A curb still to all human arrogance,)
M ore hatred from Leander did not suffer
For rolling between Sestos and Abydos,
Than that from me, because it oped not then. 75
“ Y e are new-comers; and because I smile,”

Began she, “ peradventure, in this place
Elect to human nature for its nest,
Some apprehension keeps you marvelling;
But the psalm Delectasti giveth light 80
W hich has the power to uncloud your intellect.
And thou who foremost art, and didst entreat me,
Speak, if thou wouldst hear more; for I came ready
T o all thy questionings, as far as needful.”
“ The water,” said I, “ and the forest’s sound, 85
Are combating within me my new faith
In something which I heard opposed to this.”
Whence she : “ I w ill relate how from its cause
Proceedeth that which maketh thee to wonder,
And purge away the cloud that smites upon thee. 90
182 ' The Divine Comedy
T h e Good Supreme, sole in itself delighting,

Created man good, and this goodly place
Gave him as hansel o f 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 o f the land and water,
(W hich far as may be follow after heat,)
M ight not upon mankind wage any war,
This mount ascended tow’rds the heaven so high,
And is exempt, from there where it is locked.
N ow since the universal atmosphere
Turns in a circuit with the primal motion
Unless the circle is broken on some side,
Upon this height, that all is disengaged
In living ether, doth this motion strike
And make the forest sound, for it is dense;
And so much power the stricken plant possesses
That with its virtue it impregns the air,
And this, revolving, scatters it around;
And yonder earth, according as ’t is worthy
In self or in its clime, conceives and bears
O f divers qualities the divers trees ;
Purgatorio xxvm.
It should not seem a marvel then on earth,

This being heard, whenever any plant
W ithout seed manifest there taketh root.
And thou must know, this holy table-land
In which thou art is full o f every seed,
And fruit has in it never gathered there.
T h e water which thou seest springs not from vein
Restored by vapor that the cold condenses,
L ike to a stream that gains or loses breath;
But issues from a fountain safe and certain,
W hich by the w ill o f God as much regains
As it discharges, open on two sides.
Upon this side with virtuC'it descends,
W hich takes away all memory o f sin;
On that, o f every good deed done restores it.
Here Lethe, as upon the other side
Eunoe, it is called; and worketh not
I f first on either side it be not tasted.
This every other savor doth transcend;
And notwithstanding slaked so far may be
T h y thirst, that I reveal to thee no more,
I ’11 give thee a corollary still in grace,
N or think my speech will be to thee less dear
I f it spread out beyond my promise to thee.
Those who in ancient times have feigned in song

T h e A ge o f Gold and its felicity,
Dreamed o f this place perhaps upon Parnassus.
Here was the human race in innocence;
Here evermore was Spring, and every fruit;
This is the nectar o f w hich each one speaks.”
Then backward did I turn me w holly round
Unto my Poets, and saw that w ith a smile
T h ey had been listening to these closing words
Then to the beautiful lady turned mine eyes.
CANTO XXIX.
R I N G I N G like unto an enamoured lady

She, with the ending o f her words, continued :
“ Beati quorum tecta sunt peccata ”
And even as Nymphs, that wandered all alone
Am ong the sylvan shadows, sedulous
One to avoid and one to see the sun,
She then against the stream moved onward, going
Along the bank, and I abreast o f her,
Her little steps with little steps attending.
Between her steps and mine were not a hundred,
W hen equally the margins gave a turn,
In such a way, that to the East I faced.
Nor even thus our way continued far
Before the lady w holly turned herself
Unto me, saying, “ Brother, look and listen!”
And l o ! a sudden lustre ran across
On every side athwart the spacious forest,
Such that it made me doubt if it were lightning.
But since the lightning ceases as it comes,

And that continuing brightened more and more,
W ithin my thought I said, “ W hat thing is this?”
And a delicious melody there ran
Along the luminous air, whence holy zeal
Made me rebuke the hardihood o f E v e ;
For there where earth and heaven obedient were,
T h e woman only, and but just created,
Could not endure to stay ’neath any veil;
Underneath which had she devoutly stayed,
I sooner should have tasted those delights
Ineffable, and for a longer time.
W hile ’mid such manifold first-fruits I walked
O f the eternal pleasure all enrapt,
And still solicitous o f more delights*
In front o f us like an enkindled fire
Became the air beneath the verdant boughs,
And the sweet sound as singing now was heard.
O Virgins sacrosanct! if ever hunger,
Vigils, or cold for you I have endured,
T h e occasion spurs me their reward to claim!
N ow Helicon must needs pour forth for me,
And with her choir Urania must assist me,
T o put in verse things difficult to think.
Purgatorio xxix. i
A little farther on, seven trees o f gold

In semblance the long space still intervening
Between ourselves and them did counterfeit;
But when I had approached so near to them
T h e common object, which the sense deceives,
Lost not by distance any o f its marks,
T h e faculty that lends discourse to reason
Did apprehend that they were candlesticks,
And in the voices o f the song “ Hosanna! ”
Above them flamed the harness beautiful,
Far brighter than the moon in the serene
O f midnight, at the middle o f her month.
I turned me round, with admiration filled,
T o good Virgilius, and he answered me
W ith visage no less full o f wonderment.
Then back I turned my face to those high things,
W hich moved themselves towards us so sedately,
Th ey had been distanced by new-wedded brides.
Th e lady chid me : “ W h y 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.
T h e water on my left flank was resplendent,

And back to me reflected my left side,
E ’en as a mirror, if I looked therein.
When I upon my margin had such post
That nothing but the stream divided us,
Better to see I gave my steps repose;
And I beheld the flamelets onward go,
Leaving behind themselves the air depicted,
And they o f trailing pennons had the semblance,
So that it overhead remained distinct
W ith sevenfold lists, all o f them o f the colors
W hence the sun’s bow is made, and D elia’s girdle.
These standards to the rearward longer were
Than was my sight; and, as it seemed to me,
Ten paces were the outermost apart.
Under so fair a heaven as I describe
T h e four and twenty Elders, two by two,
Came on incoronate with flower-de-luce.
T hey all o f them were singing: “ Blessed thou
Am ong the daughters o f Adam art, and blessed
Forevermore shall be thy loveliness.”
After the flowers and other tender grasses
In front o f me upon the other margin
W ere disencumbered o f that race elect,
Purgatorio xxix. 189
Even as in heaven star followeth after star,

There came close after them four animals,
Incoronate each one with verdant leaf.
Plumed with six wings was every one o f them,
T h e plumage full o f eyes ; the eyes of Argus 95
I f they were living would be such as these.

Reader! to trace their forms no more I waste
M y rhymes; for other spendings press me so,
That I in this cannot be prodigal.
But read Ezekiel, who depicteth them 100
As he beheld them from the region cold
Coming with cloud, with whirlwind, and with fire;
And such as thou shalt find them in his pages,
Such were they here; saving that in their plumage
John is with me, and differeth from him. 105
The interval between these four contained
A chariot triumphal on two wheels,
W hich by a Griffin’s neck came drawn along;
And upward he extended both his wings
Between the middle list and three and three, no
So that he injured none by cleaving it.
So high they rose that they were lost to sigh t;
His limbs were gold, so far as he was bird,
And \vhite the others with vermilion mingled.
N ot only Rome with no such splendid car

E ’er gladdened Africanus, or Augustus,
But poor to it that o f the Sun would be, —
That o f the Sun, which swerving was burnt up
A t the importunate orison o f Earth,
W hen Jove was so mysteriously just.
Three maidens at the right wheel in a circle
Came onward dancing; one so very red
That in the fire she hardly had been noted.
T h e second was as if her flesh and bones
Had all been fashioned out o f em erald;
T h e third appeared as snow but newly fallen.
And now they seemed conducted by the white,
N ow by the red, and from the song o f her
T h e others took their step, or slow or swift.
Upon the left hand four made holiday
Vested in purple, following the measure
O f one o f them with three eyes in her head.
In rear o f all the group here treated o f
T w o old men I beheld, unlike in habit,
But like in gait, each dignified and grave.
One showed him self as one o f the disciples
O f that supreme Hippocrates, whom nature
Made for the animals she holds most dear;
Purgatorio xxix.
Contrary care the other manifested,

W ith sword so shining and so sharp, it caused
Terror to me on this side o f the river.
Thereafter four I saw o f humble aspect,
And behind all an aged man alone
W alking in sleep with countenance acute.
And like the foremost company these seven
W ere habited; yet o f the flower-de-luce
N o garland round about the head they wore,
But o f the rose, and other flowers vermilion;
A t little distance would the sight have sworn
That all were in a flame above their brows.
And when the car was opposite to me
Thunder was heard; and all that folk august
Seemed to have further progress interdicted,
There with the vanward ensigns standing still.
CANTO XXX.
'Y ^ H E N the Septentrion o f the highest heaven

(W hich never either setting knew or rising,
N or veil o f other cloud than that o f sin,
And which made every one therein aware
O f his own duty, as the lower makes
W hoever turns the helm to come to port)
Motionless halted, the veracious people,
That came at first between it and the Griffin,
Turned themselves to the car, as to their peace.
And one o f them, as if by Heaven commissioned,
Singing, “ Veni, sponsa, de Libano”
Shouted three times, and all the others after.
Even as the Blessedfat the final summonsj
Shall rise up quickened each one from hi^Javern,
Uplifting light the reinvested flesh,
So upon that celestial chariot
A hundred rose ad voce?n tantl senis,
Ministers and messengers o f life eternal.
Purgatorio xxx. i
They all were saying, “ Benedictus qui venis

And, scattering flowers above and round about,
“ Manibus o date lilia plenis ”
Ere now have I beheld, as day began,
T h e eastern hemisphere all tinged with rose,
And the other heaven with fair serene adorned;
And the sun’s face, uprising, overshadowed
So that by tempering influence o f vapors
For a long interval the eye sustained it;
Thus in the bosom o f a cloud o f flowers
W hich from those hands angelical ascended,
And downward fell again inside and out,
Over her snow-white veil'w ith olive cinct
Appeared a lady under a green mantle,
Vested in color o f the living flame.
And my own spirit, that already now
So long a time had been, that in her presence
Trem bling with awe it had not stood abashed,
W ithout more knowledge having by mine eyes,
Through occult virtue that from her proceeded
O f ancient love the m ighty influence felt.
As soon as on my vision smote the power
Sublime, that had already pierced me through
Ere from my boyhood I had yet come forth,
T o the left hand I turned with that reliance

W ith which the little child runs to his mother,
W hen he has fear, or when he is afflicted,
T o say unto Virgilius: “ Not a drachm
O f blood remains in me, that does not tremble;
I know the traces o f the ancient flam e”
But us Virgilius o f himself deprived
Had left, Virgilius, sweetest o f all fathers,
Virgilius, to whom I for safety gave me:
N or 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.”
E ’en as an admiral, who on poop and prow
Comes to behold the people that are working
In other ships, and cheers them to well-doing,
Upon the left hand border o f the car,
W hen at the sound I turned of my own name,
W hich o f necessity is here recorded,
I saw the Lady, who erewhile appeared
Veiled underneath the angelic festival,
Direct her eyes to me across the river.
Purgatorio xxx. 195
Although the veil, that from her head descended,
Encircled with the foliage o f Minerva,
Did not permit her to appear distinctly,
In attitude still royally majestic 70
Continued she, like unto one who speaks,

And keeps his warmest utterance in reserve:
“ Look at me w ell; in sooth I ’m Beatrice!
H ow didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain ?
Didst thou not know that man is happy h ere?” 75
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 80
Tasteth the savor o f severe compassion.
Silent became she, and the Angels sang /. , / u
Suddenly, “ In te, Domine, speravi” :
But beyond pedes meos did not pass.
Even as the snow among the living rafters 85
Upon the back o f Italy congeals,
Blown on and drifted by Sclavonian winds,
And then, dissolving, trickles through itself
W hene’er the land that loses shadow breathes,
So that it seems a fire that melts a taper; 90
E ’en thus was I without a tear or sigh,

Before the song o f those who sing forever
After the music o f the eternal spheres.
But when I heard in their sweet melodies
Compassion for me, more than had they said, 95
“ O wherefore, lady, dost thou thus consume him ? ”

T h e ice, that was about my heart congealed,
T o air and water changed, and in my anguish
Through mouth and eyes came gushing from my breast.^
She, on the right-hand border o f the car 100
Still firmly standing, to those holy beings
Thus her discourse directed afterwards:
“ Y e keep your watch in the eternal day,
So that nor night nor sleep can steal from you
One step the ages make upon their path; io5
Therefore my answer is with greater care,
That he may hear me who is weeping yonder,
So that the sin and dole be o f one measure.
N ot only by the work o f those great wheels,
T hat destine every seed unto some end, no
According as the stars are in conjunction,
But by the largess o f celestial graces,
W hich have such lofty vapors for their rain
That near to them our sight approaches not,
Purgatorio xxx.
Such had this man become in his new life

Potentially, that every righteous habit
W ould have made admirable proof in him ;
But so much more malignant and more savage
Becomes the land untilled and with bad seed,
T h e more good earthly vigor it possesses.
Some time did I sustain him with my lo o k ;
Revealing unto him my youthful eyes,
I led him with me turned in the right way.
As soon as ever o f my second age
I was upon the threshold and changed life,
H im self from me he took and gave to others.
When from the flesh to spirit I ascended,
And beauty and virtue were in me increased,
I was to him less dear and less delightful;
And into ways untrue he turned his steps,
Pursuing the false images o f good,
That never any promises fulfil;
N or prayer for inspiration me availed,
By means o f w hich in dreams and otherwise
I called him back, so little did he heed them.
So low he fell, that all appliances
For his salvation were already short,
Save showing him the people o f perdition.
198 T h e D iv in e Com edy
For this I visited the gates o f death,

And unto him, who so far up has led him,
M y intercessions were with weeping borne.
God's lofty fiat would be violated,
I f Lethe should be passed, and if such viands
Should tasted be, withouten any scot
O f penitence, that gushes forth in tears.”
CANTO XXXI.
"O T H O U w^° art beyond the sacred river,”

Turning to me the point o f her discourse,
That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen,
She recommenced, continuing without pause,
“ Say, say if this be tru e; to such a charge,
T h y own confession needs must be conjoined.”
M y faculties were in so gre^t confusion,
That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct
Than by its organs it was set at large.
Aw hile she waited ; then she said: “ W hat thinkest ?
Answer me; for the mournful memories
In thee not yet are by the waters injured.”
Confusion and dismay together mingled
Forced such a Yes! from out my mouth, that sight
Was needful to the understanding o f it.
Even as a cross-bow breaks, when ’tis discharged
Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow,
And with less force the arrow hits the mark,
So I gave way beneath that heavy burden,

Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs,
And the voice flagged upon its passage forth.
W hence she to me : “ In those desires o f mine
W hich led thee to the loving o f that good,
Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to,
W hat trenches lying traverse or what chains
Didst thou discover, that o f passing onward
Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee o f the hop
And what allurements or what vantages
Upon the forehead o f the others showed,
That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them ? ’
After the heaving o f a bitter sigh,
Hardly had I the voice to make response,
And with fatigue my lips did fashion it.
W eeping I said : “ T h e things that present were
W ith their false pleasure turned aside my steps,
Soon as your countenance concealed itself.”
And she: “ Shouldst thou be silent, or deny
W hat thou confessest, not less manifest
W ould be thy fault, by such a Judge ’t is known.
But when from one’s own cheeks comes bursting forth
T h e accusal o f the sin, in our tribunal
Against the edge the wheel doth turn itself.
Purgatorio xxxi. 201
But still, that thou mayst feel a greater shame
For thy transgression, and another time
Hearing the Sirens thou mayst be more strong, 45
Cast down the seed o f weeping and attend;
So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way
M y buried flesh should have directed thee.
Never to thee presented art or nature
Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein 5°
I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth.
And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee
By reason o f my death, what mortal thing
Should then have drawn thee into its desire?
Thou oughtest .verily at the first shaft. 55
O f things fallacious to have risen up
T o follow me, who was no longer such.
Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward
T o wait for further blows, or little girl,
Or other vanity o f such brief use. 60
T h e callow birdlet waits for two or three,
But to the eyes o f 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, 65
And conscious o f their fault, and penitent;
So was I standing; and she said: “ I f thou

In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard
And thou shalt feel a greater pain in. seeing.”
W ith less resistance is a robust holm
Uprooted, either by a native wind
Or else by that from regions of Iarbas,
Than I upraised at her command my c h in ;
And when she by the beard the face demanded,
W ell I perceived the venom o f her meaning.
And as my countenance was lifted up,
Mine eye perceived those creatures beautiful
Had rested from the strewing o f the flowers;
And, still but little reassured, mine eyes
Saw Beatrice turned round towards the monster,
That is one person only in two natures.
Beneath her veil, beyond the margent green,
She seemed to me far more her ancient self
T o excel, than others here, when she was here.
So pricked me then the thorn o f penitence,
That o f all other things the one which turned me
Most to its love became the most my foe.
Such self-conviction stung me at the heart
O ’erpowered I fell, and what I then became
She knoweth who had furnished me the cause.
Ptirgatorio xxxi.
Then, when the heart restored my outward sense,

T h e lady I had found alone, above me
I saw, and she was saying, “ Hold me, hold me.”
Up to my throat she in the stream had drawn me,
And, dragging me behind her, she was moving
Upon the water lightly as a shuttle.
When I was near unto the blessed shore,
“ Asperges me” I heard so sweetly sung,
Remember it I cannot, much less write it.
T h e beautiful lady opened wide her arms,
Embraced my head, and plunged me underneath,
Where I was forced to swallow o f the water.
Then forth she drew me,'and all dripping brought
Into, the dance of the four beautiful,
And each one with her arm did cover me.
“ W e here are Nymphs,.and in the Heaven are stars;
Ere Beatrice descended to the world,
W e as her handmaids were appointed her.
W e ’ll lead thee to her eyes; but for the pleasant
Light that within them is, shall sharpen thine
Th e three beyond, who more profoundly look.”
Thus singing they began; and afterwards
Unto the Griffin’s breast they led me with them,
Where Beatrice was standing, turned towards us.
“ See that thou dost not spare thine eyes,” they said; 115
“ Before the emeralds have we stationed thee,
W hence Love aforetime drew for thee his weapons.”
A thousand longings, hotter than the flame,
Fastened mine eyes upon those eyes relucent,
That still upon the Griffin steadfast stayed. *«>
As in a glass the sun, not otherwise
W ithin them was the twofold monster shining,
N ow with the one, now with the other nature.
Think, Reader, if within m yself I marvelled,
W hen I beheld the thing itself stand still, ™5
And in its image it transformed itself.
W hile with amazement filled and jubilant,
M y soul was tasting o f the food, that while
It satisfies us makes us hunger for it,
Themselves revealing o f the highest rank 13°
In bearing, did the other three advance,
Singing to their angelic saraband.
“ Turn, Beatrice, O turn thy holy eyes,”
Such was their song, “ unto thy faithful one,
W h o has to see thee ta’en so many steps. 13s
In grace do us the grace that thou unveil
T h y face to him, so that he may discern
T h e second beauty which thou dost conceal.”
Purgatorio xxxi. 205
O splendor o f the living light eternal!

W h o underneath the shadow o f Parnassus 140
Has grown so pale, or drunk so at its cistern,
H e would not seem to have his mind encumbered
Striving to paint thee as thou didst appear,
W here the harmonious heaven o’ershadowed thee,
W hen in the open air thou didst unveil ? 145
CANTO XXXII.
steadfast and attentive were mine eyes

In satisfying their decennial thirst,
That all my other senses were extinct,
And upon this side and on that they had
Walls o f indifference, so the holy smile
Drew them unto itself with the old net;
When forcibly my sight was turned away
Towards my left hand by those goddesses,
Because I heard from them a “ Too intently!”
And that condition o f the sight which is
In eyes but lately smitten by the sun
Bereft me o f my vision some short while;
But to the less when sight re-shaped itself,
I say the less in reference to the greater
Splendor from which perforce I had withdrawn,
I saw upon its right wing wheeled about
T h e glorious host, returning with the sun
And with the sevenfold flames upon their faces.
Purgatorio xxxn. 207
As underneath its shields, to save itself,

A squadron turns, and with its banner wheels, 20
Before the whole thereof can change its front,
That soldiery o f the celestial kingdom
W h ich marched in the advance had wholly passed us
Before the chariot had turned its pole.
Then to the wheels the maidens turned themselves, 25
And the Griffin moved his burden benedight,
But so that not a feather o f him fluttered.
T he lady fair who drew me through the ford
Followed with Statius and myself the wheel
W hich made its orbit with the lesser arc. 3°
So passing through the lofty'forest, vacant

By fault o f her who in the serpent trusted,
Angelic music made our steps keep time.
Perchance as great a space had in three flights
An arrow loosened from the string o’erpassed, 35
As we had moved when Beatrice descended.

I heard them murmur all together, “ Adam !”
Then circled they about a tree despoiled
O f blooms and other leafage on each bough.
Its tresses, which so much the more dilate 40
As higher they ascend, had been by Indians
Among their forests marvelled at for height.
“ Blessed art thou, O Griffin, who dost not

Pluck with thy beak these branches sweet to taste,
Since appetite by this was turned to evil.”
After this fashion round the tree robust
T h e others shouted; and the twofold creature:
“ Thus is preserved the seed o f all the just.”
And turning to the pole which he had dragged,
H e drew it close beneath the widowed bough,
And what was o f it unto it left bound.
In the same manner as our trees (when downward
Falls the great light, with that together mingled
W h ich after the celestial Lasca shines)
Begin to swell, and then renew themselves,
Each one with its own color, ere the Sun
Harness his steeds beneath another star:
Less than o f rose and more' than violet
A hue disclosing, was renewed the tree
That had erewhile its boughs so desolate.
I never heard, nor here below is sung,
T h e hymn which afterward that people sang,
Nor did I bear the melody throughout.
Had I the power to paint how fell asleep
Those eyes compassionless, o f Syrinx hearing,
Those eyes to which more watching cost so dear,
Even as a painter who from model paints

I would portray how I was lulled asleep;
H e may, who well can picture drowsihood.
Therefore I pass to what time I awoke, 70
And say a splendor rent from me the veil
O f slumber, and a calling: “ Rise, what dost thou? ”
As to behold the apple-tree in blossom
W hich makes the Angels greedy for its fruit,
And keeps perpetual bridals in the Heaven, 75
Peter and John and James conducted were,

And, overcqme, recovered at the word
By which still greater slumbers have been broken,
And saw their school diminished by the loss
N ot only o f Elias, but o f Moses,. 80
"And the apparel o f their Master changed;
So I revived, and saw that piteous one
Above me standing, who had been conductress
Aforetime o f my steps beside the river,
And all in doubt I said, “ W h e re ’s Beatrice?” 85
And she: “ Behold her seated underneath
T h e leafage new, upon the root o f it.
Behold the company that circles her;
T h e rest behind the Griffin are ascending
W ith more melodious song, and more profound.” 9°
2io The Divine Comedy
And if her speech were more diffuse I know not,

Because already in my sight was she
W ho from the hearing o f aught else had shut me.
Alone she sat upon the very earth,
Left there as guardian o f the chariot 95
W hich I had seen the biform monster fasten.

Encircling her, a cloister made themselves
T h e seven Nymphs, with those lights in their hands
W hich are secure from Aquilon and Auster.
“ Short while shalt thou be here a forester, 100
And thou shalt be with me forevermore
A citizen o f that Rome where Christ is Roman.
Therefore, for that world’s good which liveth ill,
F ix on the car thine eyes, and what thou seest,
Having returned to earth, take heed thou write.” 105
Thus Beatrice; and I, who at the feet
O f her commandments all devoted was,
M y mind and eyes directed where she willed.
Never descended with so swift a motion
Fire from a heavy cloud, when it is raining no
From out the region which is most remote,
As I beheld the bird o f Jove descend
Down through the tree, rending away the bark,
As well as blossoms and the foliage new,
And he with all his might the chariot smote, 115

W hereat it reeled, like vessel in a tempest
Tossed by the waves, now starboard and now larboard.
Thereafter saw I leap into the body
O f the triumphal vehicle a Fox,
That seemed unfed with any wholesome food. 120
But for his hideous sins upbraiding him,
M y Lady put him to as swift a flight
As such a fleshless skeleton could bear.
Then by the way that it before had come,
Into the chariot’s chest I saw the Eagle 125
Descend, and leave it feathered with his plumes.
And such as issues from a heart that mourns,
A voice from Heaven there issued, and it said:
“ M y little bark, how badly art thou freighted!”
Methought, then, that the earth did yawn between 130
Both wheels, and I saw rise from it a Dragon,
W ho through the chariot upward fixed his tail,
And as a wasp that draweth back its sting,
Drawing unto him self his tail malign,
Drew out the floor, and went his way rejoicing. 135
That which remained behind, even as with grass
A fertile region, with the feathers, offered
Perhaps with pure intention and benigq,
Reclothed itself, and with them were reclothed

T h e pole and both the wheels so speedily,
A sigh doth longer keep the lips apart.
Transfigured thus the holy edifice
Thrust forward heads upon the parts o f it,
Three on the pole and one at either corner.
T h e first were horned like oxen ; but the four
Had but a single horn upon the forehead;
A monster such had never yet been seen!
Firm as a rock upon a mountain high,
Seated upon it, there appeared to me
A shameless whore, with eyes swift glancing round,
And, as if not to have her taken from him,
Upright beside her I beheld a giant ;
And ever and anon they kissed each other.
But because she her wanton, roving eye
Turned upon me, her angry paramour
Did scourge her from her head unto her feet.
Then full of jealousy, and fierce with wrath,
He loosed the monster, and across the forest
Dragged it so far, he made of that alone
A shield unto the whore and the strange beast.
CANTO XXXIII.
“ Y ^ E U S , venerunt gentes ” alternating

N ow three, now four, melodious psalmody
T h e maidens in the midst o f tears began;
And Beatrice, compassionate and sighing,
Listened to them with such a countenance,
That scarce more changed was Mary at the cross.
But when the other virgins place had given
For her to speak, uprisen to her feet
With color as o f fire, she made response :
" Modicum, et non videbitis me;
E t iterum, my sisters predilect,
Modicum, et vos videbitis me.”
Then all the seven in front o f her she placed;
And after her, by beckoning only, moved
t
Me and the lady and the sage who stayed.
So she moved onward; and I do not think
That her tenth step was placed upon the ground,
When with her eyes upon mine eyes she smote,
And with a tranquil aspect, “ Come more quickly,”

T o me she said, “ that, i f I speak with thee,
T o listen to me thou mayst be well placed.”
As soon as I was with her as I should be,
She said to me: “ W hy, brother, dost thou no.t
Venture to question now, in coming with m e?”
As unto those who are too reverential,
Speaking in presence o f superiors,
W h o drag no living utterance to their teeth,
It me befell, that without perfect sound
Began I: “ M y necessity, Madonna,
Y ou know, and that which thereunto is good.”
And she to m e : “ O f fear and bashfulness
Henceforward I will have thee strip thyself,
So that thou speak no more as one who dreams.
Know that the vessel which the serpent broke
Was, and is not; but let him who is guilty
T h ink that God’s vengeance does not fear a sop.
Without an heir shall not forever be
T h e Eagle that left his plumes upon the car,
Whence it became a monster, then a prey;
For verily I see, and hence narrate it,
T h e stars already near to bring the time,
From every hindrance safe, and every bar,
Purgatorio xxxm. 215
W ithin which a Five-hundred, Ten, and Five,

One sent from God, shall slay the thievish woman
And that same giant who is sinning with her. 45
And peradventure my dark utterance,
L ike Them is and the Sphinx, may less persuade thee,
Since, in their mode, it clouds the intellect;
But soon the facts shall be the Naiades
W ho shall this difficult enigma solve, 5°
Without destruction o f the flocks and harvests.
Note thou; and even as by me are uttered
These words, so teach them unto those who live
That life w hich is a running unto death;
And bear in mind, whene’e r thou writest them, 55
N ot to conceal what thou hast seen the plant,
That twice already has been pillaged here.
Whoever,pillages or shatters it,
W ith blasphemy o f deed offendeth God,
W ho made it holy for his use alone. 60
For biting .that, in pain and in desire
Five thousand years and more) the first-born soul
Craved Him , who punished in himself the bite.
T h y genius slumbers, if it deem it not \
For special reason so pre-eminent
In height, and so inverted in its summit.
And i f thy vain imaginings had not been

Water o f Elsa round about thy mind,
And Pyramus to the mulberry, their pleasure,
Thou by so many circumstances only
T h e justice o f the interdict o f God
Morally in the tree wouldst recognize.
But since I see thee in thine intellect
Converted into stone and stained with sin,
So that the light of my discourse doth daze thee,
I will too, i f not written, at least painted,
Thou bear it back within thee, for the reason
That cinctwith palm the pilgrim’s staff is borne.”
And I : “ As by a signet is the wax
W hich does not change the figure stamped upon it.
M y brain is now imprinted by yourself.
But wherefore so beyond my power o f sight
Soars your desirable discourse, that aye
T h e more I strive, so much the more I lose it ? ”
“ That thou mayst recognize,” she said, “ the school
W hich thou hast followed, and mayst see how far
Its doctrine follows after my discourse,
And mayst behold your path from the divine
Distant as far as separated is
From earth the heaven that highest hastens on.”
Whence her I answered: “ I do not remember

That ever I estranged myself from you,
Nor have I conscience o f it that reproves me.”
“ And i f thou art not able to remember,”
Smiling she answered, “ recollect thee now 95
That thou this very day hast drunk o f L e th e ;
And i f from smoke a fire may be inferred,
♦
Such an oblivion clearly demonstrates
Some error in thy will elsewhere intent.
Truly from this time forward shall my words 100
Be naked, so far as it is befitting
T o lay them open unto thy rude gaze.”
And more coruscant and with slower steps
T h e sun was holding the meridian circle,
Which, with the point o f view, shifts here and there,
When halted (as he cometh to a halt, 106
W ho goes before a squadron as its escort,
I f something new he find upon his way)
Th e maidens seven at a dark shadow’s edge,
Such as, beneath green leaves and branches black, no
The Alp upon its frigid border wears.
In front o f them the Tigris and Euphrates
Methought I saw forth issue from one fountain,
And slowly part, like friends, from one another.
2 l8 The Divine Comedy
“ O light, O glory o f the human race !

What stream is this which here unfolds itself
From out one source, and from itself withdraws?’
For such a prayer, ’t was said unto me, “ Pray
Matilda that she tell thee” ; and here answered,
As one does who doth free himself from blame,
T h e beautiful lady: “ This and other things
Were told to him by me; and sure I am
T h e water of Lethe has not hid them from him.”
And Beatrice: “ Perhaps a greater care,
W hich oftentimes our memory takes away,
Has made the vision of his mind obscure.
But Eunoe behold, that yonder rises ;
Lead him to it, and, as thou art accustomed,
Revive again the half-dead virtue in him.”
Like gentle soul, that maketh no excuse,
But makes its own will of another’s will
As soon as by a sign it is disclosed,
Even so, when she had taken hold of me,
T h e beautiful lady moved, and unto Statius
Said, in her womanly manner, “ Come with him.”
If, Reader, I possessed a longer space
For writing it, I yet would sing in part
O f the sweet draught that ne'er would satiate m e ;
Purgatorio x x x iil
But inasmuch as full are all the leaves

Made ready for this second canticle,
T h e curb o f art no farther lets me go.
From the most holy water I returned
Regenerate, in the manner o f new trees
That are renewed with a new foliage,
Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.
N O T E S
NOTES
i
C A N T O I.
i. T h e M ountain o f Purgatory is a ly in g outside the gate o f Purgatory ;

vast conical mountain, rising steep and the second, the Seven C ircles o f the
high from the w aters o f the Southern m ptnSJainT 'an^ the third, the., le r f e s -
O cean , at a point antipodal to M ount .-wial Paradise on it.s-stimtnlt.
Sion in Jerusalem. In Canto I I I . 1 4 / * ^ V a c H ” c>f"/Del ie f in a P u rgato ry,”
D ante speaks o f it as / says M r. A lg e r , Doctrine o f a Future
“ T h e h ill I Life , p. 4^k5, “ early appear among the
T h a t h igh est to w ’ rds the h eaven uplifts i t 's e l r * ^ ÛmsfTans. M a n y o f the gravest Fa
and in Paradiso, X X V I . 13 9 , as thers o f the first five centuries naturally

conceived and taught, — as is indeed in
“ T h e m ou n t th a t rises h igh est o’er th e w a v e .”
trinsically reasonable, — that after death
A roun d it run seven terraces, on w h ich some souls w ill be punished for their
are punished severally the Seven D ead ly sins until they are cleansed, and then
Sins. R ough stairw ays, cut in the rock, w ill be released from pain. T h e M an-
lead up from terrace to terrace, and on ichaeans im agined that all souls, be
the summit is the garden o f the T e r fore returning to their native heaven,
restrial Paradise. must be borne first to the m oon, w here
The Seven Sins punished in the w ith good waters they w ou ld be washed
Seven C ircles are, — I . P r id e ; 2. E n vy ; pure from outward filth, and then to
3. A n ger ; 4. Sloth ; 5. A varice and the sun, w h ere they w ould be purged
P rodigality ; 6. G lu tton y ; 7. L ust. by good fires from every inw ard stain.
T h e threefold division o f the Pur- A fte r these lunar and solar lustrations,
gatorio, marked only b y more elaborate th ey w ere fit for the eternal w orld o f
preludes, or by a natural pause in the light. But the conception o f Purgatory
action o f the poem , is ,— 1. From Canto as it was held b y the early Christians,
I. to Canto I X .; 2. From Canto IX . w h eth er orthodox Fathers or heretical
to Canto X X V I I I . ; 3. From Canto sects, was m erely the just and necessary
X X V I I I . to the end. T h e first o f result o f app lying to the subject o f fu
these divisions describes the region ture punishm ent the tw o ethical ideas
224 Notes
that punishm ent should partake o f de T h e sam e th e ir elo qu en ce, as m aids or birds,
grees proportioned to gu ilt, and that it N o w o n ly noise, and n o th in g th e n bu t w o rd s.”
should be restorative............. 15 . T h e highest heaven.

“ Pope G re g o ry the G re at, in the 19. T h e planet V en us.
sixth century, — either borrow in g some 20. C h au cer, Knightes Tale : —
o f the more objectionable features o f ** T h e besy la rk e , th e m essager o f day,
the Purgatory-doctrine previously held S a le w e th in hire song th e m orw e gray,
b y the heathen, or else devising the A n d firy Ph ebu s riseth up so brigh t,

T h a t a ll th e orient la u g h e th o f th e s ig h t.”
same things h im se lf from a perception
o f the striking adaptedness o f such no 23. T h e stars o f the Southern Cross.
tions to secure an enviable p o w e r to F igu ratively the four cardinal virtues,
the C h u rch , — constructed, established, Justice, Prudence, F ortitude, and T e m
and gave w orkin g efficiency to the dog perance. See C an to X X X I . 106 : —
m atic schem e o f Purgatory ever since “ W e h ere are N ym p h s, and in th e H e av e n are
firm ly defended by the Papal adherents stars.”
as an integral part o f the Rom an C a th o T h e n ext line m ay be interpreted in

lic system . T h e doctrine as matured the same figurative sense.
and prom ulgated b y G re g o ry , giving to H u m b o ld t, Personal Narrative, II .
the representatives o f the C h u rch an 2 1 , M iss W illia m s’s T r ., thus describes
almost unlim ited p o w er over Purgatory, his first glim pse o f the Southern C ross.
rapidly grew into favor w ith the cle rgy , “ T h e pleasure w e felt on discovering
and sank w ith general con viction into the Southern Cross was w arm ly shared
the hopes and fears o f the la ity .” by such o f the crew as had lived in the
9. The M use “ o f the beautiful colonies. In the solitude o f the seas,
v o ic e ,” w h o presided over eloquence w e hail a star as a friend from w hom
and heroic verse. w e have long been separated. Am ong
11. T h e nine daughters o f Pierus, the Portuguese and the Spaniards p ecu
king o f M acedon ia, called the Pierides. liar m otives seem to increase this feel
T h e y challenged the M uses to a trial in g ; a religious sentim ent attaches them
o f skill in singing, and being van to a constellation, the form o f w h ich
quished w ere changed by A p o llo into recalls the sign o f the faith planted b y
m agpies. O v id , M et . V ., M ayn w ar- their ancestors in the deserts o f the
in g ’s T r . : — N ew W o rld .
“ B en eath th eir nails “ T h e tw o great stars w h ich mark
Feath ers th ey feel, and on th eir faces scales ; the summit and the foot o f the Cross
T h e ir h orny beaks at once each o th er scare, having nearly the same right ascen
T h e ir arms are plum ed, and on th eir backs th ey
sion, it follo w s hence, that the constel
bear
lation is almost perpendicular at the
Pied w in gs, and flutter in th e fleetin g aif.
C h a tt’ rin g, th e scandal o f th e w oods, th ey fly, mom ent w h en it passes the m eridian.
A n d there co ntin ue s till th eir c la m ’rous cry : T h is circum stance is know n to every
Purgatorio /. 225
nation that lives beyon d the tropics, or becom e invisible in 520 30' north lati
in the Southern hem isphere. It has tude 2900 years before our era, since,
been observed at w h at hour o f the according to G a lle , this constellation
n ight, in different seasons, the Cross m ight previously have reached an alti
o f the South is erect or inclined. It tude o f more than i o ° . W h en it dis
is a tim e-piece that advances very regu appeared from the horizon o f the coun
larly near four minutes a day, and no tries o f the B altic, the great Pyram id
other group o f stars exh ib its, to the o f C h eops had already been erected
naked eye, an observation o f tim e so m ore than 500 y ea rs.”
easily made. H ow often have w e 30. Iliad , X V I I I . : “ T h e Pleiades,
heard our guides exclaim in the savan and the H yad es, and the strength o f
nahs o f V en ezu ela, or in the desert e x O rio n , and the Bear, w h ich likew ise
tending from L im a to T r u x illo , * M id th ey call by the appellation o f the
n ight is past, the Cross begins to b e n d !’ W a in , w h ich there turns round and
H o w often those w ords rem inded us w atches O r io n ; and it alone is de
o f that affecting scene, w here Paul and prived o f the baths o f O cean u s.”
V irg in ia , seated near the source o f the 3 1. C ato o f U tica . if Pythagoras
river o f Lataniers, conversed together escapes, in the fabulous h ell o f D a n te ,”
for the last tim e, and w here the old says Sir T h o m as B row n , Urn Burial ,
man, at the sight o f the Southern Cross, I V ., “ among that swarm o f p h ilo so
w arns them that it is tim e to sep phers, w h erein , w h ilst w e m eet w ith
arate.” Plato and Socrates, C ato is found in no
24. B y the " p r im a l people ” D ante lo w e r place than Purgatory.”
does not mean our first parents, but In the description o f the shield o f
“ the early races w h ich inhabited E u .ZEneas, JEneidy V I I I . , C ato is repre
rope and A sia ,” says M r. B arlo w , Study sented as presiding over the good in
of Dantey and quotes in confirmation the T artarean realm s: “ A n d the good
o f his v ie w the fo llo w in g passage from apart, C ato dispensing law s to th em .”
H u m bo ld t’s Cosmos, I I . : T h is line o f V irg il m ay have suggested
“ In consequence o f the precession to D ante the idea o f m aking C ato the
o f the equinoxes, the starry heavens are w arden o f Purgatory.
continually changing their aspect from In the Convito, I V . 28, he expresses
every portion o f the earth’ s surface. the greatest reverence for him . M a r
T h e early races o f mankind beheld in cia returning to him in her w id o w
the far north the glorious constellations hood, he says, “ sym bolizes the noble
o f the southern hem isphere rise before soul returning to G o d in old age.”
them , w h ic h , after rem aining long in A n d continues : “ W h at man on earth
visible, w ill again appear in those lati was more w o rth y to sym bolize G o d ,
tudes after a lapse o f thousands o f years. than C a to ? Surely n o n e ” ; — ending
. . . . T h e Southern Cross began to the chapter w ith these w o r d s : “ In
v o l . ii . 29
226 Notes
his name it is beautiful to close w h at C a to , M r . B arlo w , Study o f Dante, re
I have had to say o f the signs o f n o b il marks : “ T h e eighth book o f the T e -
ity , because in him this n o b ility dis soro o f Brunetto L atin i is headed, £)ui
plays them all through all ages.” comincia la Rettorica che c* insegna a ben
H e re , on the shores o f Purgatory, parlare, e di governare citta e popoli.
his countenance is adorned w ith the In this art D an te was duly instructed
ligh t o f the four stars w h ich are the by his lovin g m aster, and became the
four virtues, Justice, Prudence, F o rti m ost able orator o f his era in Ita ly .
tude, and T em p e ra n ce , and it is fore G io v . V illa n i speaks o f him as reto-
told o f him , that his garm ents w ill rico perfetto tanto in dittare e versijicare
shine brig h tly on the last day. And come in aringbiera parlare. But w ith
here he is the sym bol o f L ib e rty , since, out this record and w ith ou t acquaint
for her sake, to him “ not bitter was ance w ith the p o et’ s p olitical h isto ry,
death in U t i c a ” ; and the m eaning o f kn ow in g n othing o f his influence in
Purgatory is spiritual L ib e rty , or free debates and councils, nor o f his credit
dom from sin through purification, at foreign courts, we m igh t, from
“ the glorious lib erty o f the children the occasional speeches in the D iv in a
o f G o d .” T h e re fo re in thus selecting C om m edia, be fu lly assured o f the
the “ D iv in e C ato ” for the guardian truth o f w h at V illa n i has said, and
o f this realm , D ante show s h im self to that D a n te’ s w ords and manner w ere
have greater freedom than the critics, alw ays skilfully adapted to the purpose
w ho accuse him o f “ a perverse the he had in v ie w , and to the persons
o lo gy in saving the soul o f an idolater w h o m he addressed.
and suicide.” “ V ir g il’s speech to the venerable
40. T h e “ blind river ” is L eth e, C ato is a perfect specim en o f persua
w h ich by sound and not by sight had sive eloquence. T h e sense o f personal
guided them through the w indin g cav dign ity is here com bined w ith extrem e
ern from the centre o f the earth to the courtesy and respect, and the most flat
surface. In f. X X X I V . 130. tering appeals to the old m an’s w ell-
42. H is beard. F o rd , Lady's Trial: know n sentim ents, his love o f lib erty ,
“ N o w th e down his love o f rectitude, and his devoted
O f softness is exch an ged for plum es o f a g e .” attachm ent to M arcia, are interw oven
w ith irresistible a r t ; but though the
D ante uses the same expression, Inf.
resentm ent o f C ato at the approach o f
X X . 4 5, and Petrarca, w h o becam e
the strangers is thus appeased, and he
gray at an early period , says :
is persuaded to regard them w ith as
“ In such a tenebrous and narrow cage m uch favor as the severity o f his char
W e r e we sh ut up, and th e accustom ed plum es
acter perm its, y et he w ill not have
I chan ged betim es, and m y first co u n ten a n ce.”
them think that his consent to their
52. U p o n this speech o f V ir g il to p roceedin g has been obtained by adu
Purgatorio /. 227
lation, but sim ply b y the assertion o f H o m er, describing U lysses casting him
p o w e r vouchsafed to them from on s e lf dow n on the rushes and the corn-
h ig h , — giving land at the river shore, — the
M a se donna del C ie l ti m uove e regge, rushes and corn being to him only
C o m e tu di’ , non c ’ e m estier lusin ga : good for rest and sustenance, — whetf
B astiti ben, ch e per lei m i rich egge. we com pare it w ith that in w hich
In this also the consistency o f C a to ’s D ante tells us he was ordered to de
character is m ain tain ed ; he is sensible scend to the shore o f the lake as he
o f the flattery, but disowns its influ entered Purgatory, to gather a rush,
ence. and gird h im se lf w ith it, it being to
77. See In f., V . 4. him the em blem not only o f rest, but
78. See In f., I V . 128. A lso Con- o f hum ility under chastisem ent, the
vitOy I V . 28 : “ T h is the great poet rush (o r reed) being the on ly plant
L ucan shadows forth in the second w h ich can gro w there ; — ‘ no plant
book o f his Pharsalia, w h en he says w h ich bears leaves, or hardens its bark,
that M arcia returned to C a to , and can live on that shore, because it does
besought him and entreated him to not y ield to the chastisement o f its
take her back in his old age. And by w aves.’ It cannot but strike the reader
this M arcia is understood the noble singularly h o w deep and harmonious
soul.” a significance runs through all these
Lucan, Pbars., I I ., R o w e ’s T r . w ords o f D an te, — h o w every syllable
o f them , the more w e penetrate it, be
“ W h e n lo ! th e sounding doors are heard to
turn ,
comes a seed o f farther thought! F or
Chaste M a rtia com es from dead H orten sius’ fo llo w up this image o f the girding
urn. w ith the reed, under trial, and see to
w hose feet it w ill lead us. A s the
F o rth from th e m on u m en t th e m ournfu l
grass o f the earth, thought o f as the
dam e
herb y ield in g seed, leads us to the
W it h beaten breasts and lo c k s d ish evelled
cam e 3
p lace w h ere our L o rd com m anded the
T h e n w ith a pale, dejected , rueful lo o k , m ultitude to sit dow n b y companies
T h u s pleasing to h er form er lord she spo ke. upon the green grass ; so the grass o f
the w aters, thought o f as sustaining
* A t len gth a barren w e d lo c k le t m e prove, its e lf among the w aters o f affliction,
G iv e m e th e nam e w ith o u t th e jo ys o f l o v e ;
leads us to the place w h ere a stem o f
N o m ore to be abandoned let m e com e,
it was put into our L o r d ’s hand for his
T h a t C a to ’s w ife m ay liv e upon m y to m b .’ ”
sceptre ; and in the crow n o f thorns,
95. A sym bol o f hu m ility. Ruskin, and the rod o f reed, was foreshow n
Mod. Painters, II I . 232, says: “ T h e re the everlasting truth o f the C hristian
is a still deeper significance in the pas ages, — that all glo ry was to be begun
sage quoted, a little w h ile ago, from in suffering, and all p o w er in h u m ility .”
228 Notes
115. R uskin, Mod. Painters, III. rain nor river made lake so w i d e ’ ;
248 : “ T h e r e is only one m ore point and throughout the Paradise all the
to be noticed in the Dantesque land beauty depends on spheres o f ligh t, or
scape ; nam ely, the feeling entertained stars, never on clouds. But the pit o f
by the poet towards the sky. A n d the the Inferno is at first sight obscure,
love o f mountains is so clo sely con deep , and so cloudy that at its bottom
nected w ith the love o f clouds, the nothing could be seen. W h en D an te
sublim ity o f both depending m uch on and V ir g il reach the marsh in w h ich
their association, that, having found the souls o f those w h o have been an
D an te regardless o f the Carrara m oun gry and sad in their lives are forever
tains as seen from San M in iato , w e plunged, th e y find it covered w ith
m ay w e ll exp ect to find him equally thick f o g ; and the condem ned souls
regardless o f the clouds in w h ich the say. to them ,
sun sank behind them . A cco rd in g ly , * W e once w ere sad,
w e find that his only pleasure in the In th e sweet a iry made gladsome by the sun.
N o w in these m u rk y settlin gs are w e sad .’
sky depends on its ‘ w h ite clearness,’
— that turning into bianco aspetto di E ven the angel crossing the marsh to
celestroy w h ich is so pecu liarly char help them is annoyed by this bitter
acteristic o f fine days in Ita ly. H is marsh sm oke, fummo acerbo, and con
pieces o f pure pale ligh t are alw ays tinually sweeps it w ith his hand from
exquisite. In the dawn on the purga before his face.”
torial m ountain, first, in its pale w h ite , 12 3 . Some com m entators interpret
he sees the tremolar della marina, — Ove adorezza , b y “ w h ere the w ind
trem bling o f the sea ; then it becom es b lo w s .” But the b lo w in g o f the wind
verm ilion ; and at last, near sunrise, w ould produce an effect exactly oppo
orange. T h e se are precisely the site to that here described.
changes o f a calm and perfect dawn. 13 5 . ^ n e i d , V I . : “ W h en the first
T h e scenery o f Paradise begins w ith is torn off, a second o f gold succeeds ;
* day added to d a y / the ligh t o f the and a tw ig shoots forth leaves o f the
sun so Hooding the heavens, that ‘ never same m etal.”
C A N T O II.
I. It was sunset at Jerusalem, n ight or the sign o f L ib r a , w h ich is opposite

on the G an ges, and m orning at the A ries. T h e se scales fall from the hand
M ountain o f Purgatory. o f n ight, or are not above the horizon
T h e sun being in A rie s, the night b y n ight, w hen the night exceeds, or
w ou ld “ come forth w ith the scales,” is longer than the day.
Purgatorio //. 229
7. B o cca ccio , Decameroney Prologue 98. T h e first three months o f the

to the T h ir d D a y , imitates this passage: year o f Jubilee, 1300. M ilm an , Hist.
“ T h e A u ro ra, as the sun d rew nigh, Latin Christ ., V I . 285, thus describes
was already beginning to change from i t : “ A ll Europe was in a frenzy o f
verm ilion to orange.” religious zeal. T h rou gh o u t the year
3 1. A rgum ent used in the sense the roads in the remotest parts o f G e r
o f means, or appliances, as in In f. m any, H u n gary, Britain, w ere crow ded
X X X I . 55, w ith pilgrim s o f all ages, o f both sexes.
44. Cervantes says in Don Quixote, A Savoyard above one hundred years
Pt. I . ch. 12 , that the student Crisos- old determ ined to see the tombs o f the
tomo “ had a face like a benediction .” A postles before he died. _ T h e r e w ere
57. Sackville, in his Induction to the at times tw o hundred thousand stran
Mirror fo r Magistrates, says : gers at R om e. D u rin g the year (no
“ W h ile s Scorpio dreading Sagittarius’ dart doubt the calculations w ere loose and
W h o se bow prest ben t in fig h t th e string had vague) the city was visited b y m illions
slipped, o f pilgrim s. A t one tim e, so vast was
D o w n slid in to th e ocean flood ap art.” the press both w ith in and w ith ou t the
80. Odyssey, X I ., B u ck ley’s T r . : w alls, that openings w ere broken for
“ But I, m editating in m y m ind, w ished ingress and egress. M a n y people w ere
to lay hold o f the soul o f m y departed tram pled d o w n , and perished b y suffo
m other. T h r ic e indeed I essayed it, cation........ Lodgings w ere exorbitantly
and m y m ind urged me to lay hold o f dear, forage s c a rc e ; but the ordinary
it, but thrice it flew from m y hands, like food o f man, bread, m eat, w in e , and
unto a shadow , or even to a dream .” fish, w as sold in great p len ty and at
A n d jEneidy V I . , D avidson ’ s T r . : moderate prices. T h e oblations w ere
“ T h e re thrice he attempted to th row beyond calculation. It is reported b y
his arms around his n e c k ; thrice the an eyew itness that tw o priests stood
phantom , grasped in vain, escaped his w ith rakes in their hands sw eeping the
h o ld , like the fleet gales, or resem bling uncounted gold and silver from the
most a fugitive dream.” altars. N o r was this tribute, like of
9 1. Casella was a Florentine musi ferings or subsidies for Crusades, to be
cian and friend o f D an te, w h o here devoted to special uses, the accoutre
speaks to him w ith so m uch tenderness m ents, provisions, freight o f armies.
and affection as to make us regret that It was entirely at the free and irrespon
nothing more is known o f him . M ilto n sible disposal o f the P op e. C h risten
alludes to him in his Sonnet to M r. dom o f its ow n accord was heaping at
H . L aw es: — the P o p e’s feet this extraordinary cus
tom ; and receivin g back the gift o f
“ D ante sh all give F am e lea ve to set th ee h igh e r
T h a n his C a sella , w h o m h e w o o ’ d to sin g pardon and everlasting life .”
M e t in th e m ilder shades o f P u rga to ry.” See also In f. X V I I I ., N o te 29.
230 Notes
io o . T h e sea-shore o f O stia at the Vulgar darkness, and to suffer him , in
m outh o f the T ib e r , w here the souls so clear a day, to stumble upon stones;
o f those w h o w ere saved assem bled, stones, indeed, o f figure, and anointed
and w ere received by the C elestial w ith o il, and crow n ed ; but stones,
P ilo t, w h o transported them to the h o w ev er, still they are; — for you can
island o f Purgatory. M inutius F e lix , not but be sensible that your perm itting
a Rom an la w y er o f the third century, so foul an error in your friend redounds
makes it the scene o f his Octavius , no less to your disgrace than h is.’
and draws this pleasant picture of T h is discourse o f his held us through
the sands and the sea. R eeves’s T r . , h a lf the city ; and n ow w e began to
P* 37 : find ourselves upon the free and open
“ It was vacation-tim e, and that gave shore. T h ere the gen tly w ashing
me aloose from m y business at the bar ; w aves had spread the extrem est sands
for it was the season after the summer’s into the order o f an artificial w alk ;
heat, w hen autumn prom ised fair, and and as the sea alw ays expresses some
put on the face o f tem perate. W e set roughness in his looks, even w hen the
out, therefore, in the m orning early, w inds are still, although he did not roll
and as w e w ere w alkin g upon the sea in foam and angry surges to the shore,
shore, and a kindly breeze fanned and yet w ere w e m uch delighted , as w e
refreshed our lim bs, and the yield in g w alked upon the edges o f the w ater, to
sand softly submitted to our feet and see the crisp in g, friz zly w aves glide in
made it delicious travelling, Caecilius snaky folds, one w h ile p layin g against
on a sudden espied the statue o f Sera- our feet, and then again retirin g and
p is, and, according to the vulgar mode lost in the devouring ocean. S o ftly ,
o f superstition, raised his hand to his then, and calm ly as the sea about us,
m outh, and paid his adoration in kisses. w e travelled on, and kept upon the
U p o n w h ich O ctavius, addressing him brim o f the gen tly d eclinin g shore, be
s e lf to m e, said : ‘ It is not w e ll done, guiling the w ay w ith our stories.”
m y brother M arcu s, thus to leave your I I 2 r T h is is the first line o f the
inseparable com panion in the depth o f second canzone o f the Convito.
C A N T O I II .
15 . So in Paradiso, X X V I . 139 : — ing the Bay o f N ap les. T h e inscrip-
“ T h e m oun t th a t rises h ig h e st o’ er th e sea.” tion upon it is : —
27* T h e tom b o f V irg il is on the M a n tu a m e g e n u it: C alab ri rapuere: ten et nunc
prom ontory o f Pausilippo, overlook- P arth en ope : ce cin i pascua, rura, duces.
Purgatorio ///. 231
“ T h e epitaph ,” says Eustace, Clas Riviera di Ponentey not far from N ic e .

sical Tour, I. 499, “ w h ic h , though not O f this region M r. R u skin, Mod. Paint-
genuine, is y et ancient, was inscribed ers, I I I . 233, says : —
by order o f the D uke o f Pescolangiano, “ The similes b y w h ich he illus
then p roprietor o f the p lace, on a trates the steepness o f that ascent are all
m arble slab placed in the side o f the taken from the R iviera o f G en oa, n ow
rock opposite the entrance o f the tom b, traversed by a good carriage road under
w here it still rem ains.” the name o f the C o rn ice ; but as this
F o rsyth , Italy, p. 378, says : “ Vir road did not exist in D an te’s tim e, and
gil's tomb is so called, I b elieve, on the the steep precipices and prom ontories
single authority o f Donatus. Donatus w ere then probably traversed by foot
places it at the right distance from paths, w h ich , as th ey necessarily passed
N aples, but on the w ron g side o f the in m any places over crum bling and
city ; and even there he omits the slipp ery lim estone, w ere doubtless not
grotto of P osilip o, w h ich not being so a little dangerous, and as in the manner
deep in his time as the tw o last exca they commanded the bays o f sea b elo w ,
vations have left it, must have opened and lay exposed to the full blaze o f the
p recisely at his tom b. Donatus, too, southeastern sun, they corresponded
gives, for V ir g il’s ow n com position, an precisely to the situation o f the path by
epitaph on the c liff n ow rejected as a w h ich he ascends above the purgatorial
forgery. A n d w h o is this Donatus p'* sea, the image could not possibly have
— an obscure gram marian, or rather his been taken from a better source for the
counterfeit. T h e structure its e lf re fully con veyin g his idea to the reader :
sembles a ruined pigeon-house, w here nor, by the w a y , is there reason to dis
the numerous columbaria w ould indicate credit, in this place, his p ow ers o f
a fam ily-sepulchre : but w h o should clim b in g; for, w ith his usual accuracy,
repose in the tom b o f V irg il, but V ir he has taken the angle o f the path
gil alone ? V isitors o f every nation, for us, saying it was considerable more
kings and princes, have scratched their than fo rty -fiv e . N ow a continuous
names on the stucco o f this apocryphal mountain slope o f forty-five degrees is
ruin, but the p oet’s awful name seems already quite unsafe either for ascent or
to have deterred them from versifying descent, excep t by zigzag paths ; and
h e re .” a greater slope than this could not be
37. Be satisfied w ith kn ow in g that clim bed, straightforw ard, but b y help
a thing is, w ith ou t asking w h y it is. o f crevices or jags in the ro ck , and
T h e se w ere distinguished in scholastic great physical exertion besides.”
language as the Demonstratio quia, and M r. N o rto n , Travel and Study, p . 1,
the Demonstratio propter quid. thus describes the R iv ie r a : “ T h e V ar
49. L erici is on the Riviera di Le- forms the geographical boundary be
vante, near S p e z z ia ; T u r b ia on the tw een France and I t a l y ; but it is not
232 Notes
till Nice is left behind, and the first it passes under a high isolated peak, on
height o f the Riviera is surmounted, which stands Esa, built as a city of
that the real Italy begins. Here the refuge against pirates and Moors. A
hills close round at the north, and sud little farther on,
denly, as the road turns at the top o f a * Its R om an strength Turbia showed
long ascent, the Mediterranean appears In ruins by the mountain road,’ —
far below, washing the feet o f the not only recalling the ancient times,
mountains that form the coast, and when it was the boundary city o f Italy
stretching away to the Southern hori and Gaul, and when Augustus erected
zon. T h e line of the shore is o f ex his triumphal arch within it, but as
traordinary beauty. Here an abrupt sociated also with Dante and the steep
cliff rises from the sea ; here bold and o f Purgatory. Beneath lies Monaco,
broken masses o f rock jut out into it ; glowing ‘ like a gem ’ on its oval rock,
here the hills, their gray sides terraced the sea sparkling around it, and the
for vineyards, slope gently down to the long western rays o f the sinking sun
water’s edge ; here they stretch into lingering on its little palace, clinging
little promontories covered with orange to its church belfry and its gray wall,
and olive-trees. as if loath to leave them.”
“ One o f the first o f these promon In the Casa Magni, on the sea-shore
tories is that o f Capo Sant’ Ospizio. near Lerici, Shelley once lived. He
A close grove o f olives half conceals was returning thither from Leghorn,
the old castle on its extreme point. when he perished in a sudden storm at
With the afternoon sun full upon it, sea.
the trees palely glimmering as their 67. After they had gone a mile, they
leaves move in the light air, the sea so were still a stone’s throw distant.
blue and smooth as to be like a darker 82. See Convitoy I. 10.
sky, and not even a ripple upon the 112 . Manfredi, king o f Apulia and
beach, it seems as if this were the very Sicily, was a natural son o f the Em
home of summer and o f repose. It is peror Frederick the Second. He was
remote and secluded from the stir and slain at the battle o f Benevento, in
noise of the world. No road is seen 1 2 6 5 ; one o f the great and decisive
leading to it, and one looks down upon battles of the Guelphs and Ghibellines,
the solitary castle and wonders what the Guelph or Papal forces being com
stories o f enchantment and romance manded by Charles o f Anjou, and the
belong to a ruin that appears as if made Ghibellines or Imperialists by Man
for their dwelling-place. It is a scene fredi.
out of that Italy which is the home of Malispini, Storia, ch. 187 , thus de
the imagination, and which becomes scribes his death and burial: “ Man
the Italy of memory. fredi, being left with few followers,
" A s the road winds down to the sea, behaved like a valiant gentleman who
Purgatorio ///. 233
preferred to die in battle rather than wards he was recognized by one o f
to escape with shame. And putting his own camp-followers, from certain
on his helmet, which had on it a silver marks upon his person, in the middle of
eagle for a crest, this eagle fell on the the battle-field; and he threw him across
saddle-bow before him ; and seeing this an ass, and came shouting, * Who will
he was greatly disturbed, and said in buy Manfredi ? ’ for which a baron o f
Latin to the barons who were near the king beat him with a cane. And
him, *Hoc est signum D ei; for this crest the body o f Manfredi being brought to
I fastened on with my own hands in King Charles, he assembled all the
such a way that it could not fall.* But barons who were prisoners, and asked
he was not discouraged, and took heart, each one i f that was Manfredi ; and
and went into battle like any other timidly they answered yes. Count
baron, without the royal insignia, in Giordano smote himself in the face
order not to be recognized. But short with his hands, weeping and crying,
while it lasted, for his forces were al ‘ O my lo rd !’ whereupon he was much
ready in flight; and they were routed commended by the French, and certain
and Manfredi slain in the middle o f the Bretons besought that he might have
enemy ; and they were driven into the honorable burial. Answered the king
town by the soldiers o f King Charles, and said, * I would do it willingly, if
for it was now night, and they lost he were not excommunicated’ ; and
the city of Benevento. And maity o f on that account he would not have
Manfredi’s barons were made pris him laid in consecrated ground, but he
oners, among whom were the Count was buried at the foot o f the bridge o f
Giordano, Messer Piero Asino degli Benevento, and each one o f the army
Uberti, and many others, whom King threw a stone upon his grave, so that a
Charles sent captive into Provence, and great pile was made. But afterwards,
there had them put to death in prison; it is said, by command o f the Pope, the
and he imprisoned many other G er Bishop o f Cosenza took him from that
mans in different parts o f the kingdom. grave, and sent him out o f the king
And a few days afterwards the wife of dom, because it was Church land.
Manfredi and his children and his sis And he was buried by the river Verde,
ter, who were in Nocera de’ Sardini at the confines of the kingdom and the
in Apulia, were taken prisoners by Campagna. This battle was on a Fri
Charles; these died in prison. And day, the last day of February, in the
for more than three days they made year one thousand two hundred and
search after M anfredi; for he could sixty-five.”
not be found, nor was it known if he Villani, who in his account o f the
were dead, or a prisoner, or had es battle copies Malispini almost literally,
caped ; because he had not worn his gives in another chapter, V I. 46, the
royal robes in the battle. And after- following portrait of M anfredi; but it
v o l . 11. 30
234 Notes
must be remembered that Viliam was with the Church, he kept in good con
a Guelph, and Manfredi a Ghibel- dition, so that it rose greatly in wealth
line. and power, both by sea and by land.”
“ King Manfredi had for his mother 113 . Constance, wife o f Henry V I.
a beautiful lady o f the family of the and mother o f Frederick II.
Marquises o f Lancia in Lombardy, 115 . His daughter Constance, who
with whom the Emperor had an in was married to Peter o f Aragon, and
trigue, and was beautiful in person, and was the mother o f Frederick o f Sicily
like his father and more than his father and o f James o f Aragon.
Was given to dissipation o f all kinds. 1 2 1 . Manfredi is said to have caused
He was a musician and singer, delight the death of his father, the Emperor
ed in the company of buffoons and Frederick II. and o f his brother Cor-
courtiers and beautiful concubines, and radino, and to have been a relentless
was always clad in green ; he was persecutor o f the Church.
generous and courteous, and of good 124. T h e Bishop o f Cosenza and
demeanor, so that he was much be Pope Clement the Fourth.
loved and gracious ; but his life was 1 3 1 . The name o f the river Verde
wholly epicurean, hardly caring for reminds one of the old Spanish ballad,
God or the saints, but for the delights particularly when one recalls the fact
o f the body. He was an enemy o f that Manfredi had in his army a band
holy Church, and of priests and monks, o f Saracens: —
confiscating churches as his father had “ R io V erd e, R io V erd e,
done; and a wealthy gentleman was he, M an y a corpse is bathed in thee,
both from the treasure which he in Both o f Moors and eke o f Christians,
herited from the Emperor, and from Slain w ith swords most cruelly.”
King Conrad, his brother, and from his 13 2 . Those who died “ in contu
own kingdom, which was ample and mely of holy Church,” or under ex-
fruitful, and which, so long as he lived, communication, were buried with ex
notwithstanding all the wars he had tinguished and inverted torches.
CAN TO IV .
6. Plato’s doctrine o f three souls : 25. Sanleo, a fortress on a mountain

the Vegetative in the liver; the Sensa- in the duchy of Urbino ; N oli, a town
tive in the heart; and the Intellectual in the Genoese territory, by the sea
in the brain. See Convitoy IV . 7. side ; Bismantova, a mountain in the
15. See Convito, II. 14, quoted Par . duchy o f Modena.
X IV . Note 86. 36. Like Christian going up the hill
Purgatorio v. 235
Difficulty in Bunyan, Pilgrim's Pro 109. Compare Thomson’s descrip
gress : “ I looked then after Christian tion of the “ pleasing land of drowsy-
to see him go up the hill, where I per head,” in the Castle of Indolence: —
ceived he fell from running to going, “ A n d there a season atween Ju n e and M ay ,
and from going to clambering upon his H a lf prankt with spring, with summer h a lf
hands and knees, because of the steep imbrowned,
ness of the place.” A listless climate made, where, sooth to say,

N o living w ight could w ork, ne cared even
43. More than forty-five degrees.
for play.”
6 1. I f the sun were in Gemini, or
i f we were in the month o f M ay, you 12 3 . “ He loved also in life,” says
would see the sun still farther to the Arrivabene, Commento Storico, 584, “ a
north. certain Belacqua, an excellent maker o f
64. Rubeccbio is generally rendered musical instruments.”
red or ruddy. But Jacopo dalla Lana Benvenuto da Imola says o f him :
says: “ Rubeccbio in the Tuscan tongue “ He was a Florentine who made gui
signifies an indented mill-wheel.” This tars and other musical instruments.
interpretation certainly renders the im He carved and ornamented the necks
age more distinct. T h e several signs and heads o f the guitars with great care,
o f the Zodiac are so many cogs in the and sometimes also played. Hence
great w h ee l; and the wheel is an im Dante, who delighted in music, knew
age which Dante more than once ap him intimately.” This seems to be all
plies to the celestial bodies. that is known o f Belacqua.
7 1. T h e Ecliptic. See I n f X V II., 13 3 . Measure fo r Measure, II. 2 : —
Note 107. “ T ru e prayers
73. T h is, the Mountain of Purga T h a t shall be up at heaven, and enter there
tory ; and that, Mount Zion. Ere sunrise ; prayers from preserved souls,
83. T h e Seven Stars o f Ursa Major, From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate
T o nothing temporal,”
the North Star.
CAN TO V.
1. There is an air o f reality about and the blacksmith whose tools he

this passage, like some personal reminis threw into the street for singing his
cence of street gossip, which gives per verses amiss, and the woman who
haps a little credibility to the other pointed him out to her companions as
wise incredible anecdotes of Dante the man who had been in Hell and
told by Sacchetti and others; — such as brought back tidings o f it.
those o f the ass-driver whom he beat, 38. Some editions read in this line
236 Notes
mezza notte, midnight, instead of prima Antenor, and his sepulchre is still
notte, early nightfall. there.”
O f meteors Brunetto Latini, Tresor, 79. La Mira is on the Brenta, or one
I. pt. 3, ch. 10 7, writes: “ Likewise it of its canals, in the fen-lands between
often comes to pass that a dry vapor, Padua and Venice.
when it has mounted so high that it 88. Buonconte was a son o f Guido
takes fire from the heat which is above, di Montefeltro, and lost his life in the
falls, when thus kindled, towards the battle of Campaldino in the Val d’ Arno.
earth, until it is spent and extinguished, His body was never found; Dante
whence some people think it is a drag imagines its fate.
on or a star which falls.” Ruskin, Mod. Painters, I I I . 252, re
Milton, Parad . Lost, IV . 556, de marks : —
scribing the flight o f U riel, says : — “ Observe, Buonconte, as he dies,
“ Sw ift as a shooting star

crosses his arms over his breast, press
In Au tu m n thwarts the night, when vapors fired ing them together, partly in his pain,
Impress the air, and show the mariner partly in prayer. His body thus lies
From w hat point o f his compass to beware by the river shore, as on a sepul
Impetuous w inds.” chral monument, the arms folded into
66. Shakespeare’s “ war ’ twixt will a cross. T h e rage o f the river, under
and will not,” and “ letting I dare not the influence o f the evil demon, unlooses
wait upon I would.” this cross, dashing the body supinely
67. T his is Jacopo del Cassero of away, and rolling it over and over by
Fano, in the region between Romagna bank and bottom. Nothing can be
and the kingdom of Naples, then ruled truer to the action o f a stream in fury
by Charles de Valois (Charles Lack than these lines. And how desolate is
land). He was waylaid and murdered it a ll! T h e lonely flight, — the grisly
at Oriago, between Venice and Padua, wound, “ pierced in the throat,” —
by Azzone the Third of Este. the death, without help or pity, —
74. Leviticus, xvii. 2 : “ T he life of only the name o f Mary on the lips,
the flesh is in the blood.” — and the cross folded over the heart.
75. Among the Paduans, who are Then the rage of the demon and the
called Antenori, because their city river, — the noteless grave, — and, at
was founded by Antenor of T ro y. last, even she who had been most trust
Brunetto Latini, Tresor, I. ch. 39, says: ed forgetting him, —
“ Then Antenor and Priam departed ‘ Giovanna nor none else have care for m e.’
thence, with a great company of peor There is, I feel assured, nothing else
pie, and went to the Marca Trevi- like it in all the range o f poetry ; a
sana, not far from Venice, and there faint and harsh echo o f it, only, exists
they built another city which is in one Scottish ballad, ‘ T h e T w a Cor
called Padua, where lies the body of bies.’ ”
Purgatorio v. 237
89. T h e wife o f Buonconte. o f Prato Vecchio, rode round tfie mod
92. Ampere, Voyage Dantesquey p. est arcades o f the town, and arrived
2 4 1, thus speaks of the battle o f Cam- at the lower convent o f Camaldoli, just
paldino : " I n this plain of Campaldino, at shutting of the gates. T h e sun was
now so pleasant and covered with vine set and every object sinking into re
yards, took place, on the n th of June, pose, except the stream which roared
1289, a rude combat between the among the rocks, and the convent-bells
Guelphs o f Florence and the fuorusciti which were then ringing the Angelus.
Ghibellines, aided by the Aretines. “ T his monastery is secluded from
Dante fought in the front rank o f the the approach o f woman in a deep, nar
Florentine cavalry ; for it must needs row, woody dell. Its circuit o f dead
be that this man, whose life was so walls, built on the conventual plan,
complete, should have been a soldier, gives it an aspect o f confinement and
before being a theologian, diplomatist, defence; yet this is considered as a
and poet. He was then twenty-four privileged retreat, where the rule o f the
years o f age. He himself described order relaxes its rigor, and no monks
this battle in a letter, o f which only a can reside but the sick or the super
few lines remain. ( At the battle of annuated, the dignitary or the steward,
Campaldino,’ he says, ‘ the Ghibelline the apothecary or the bead-turner.
party was routed and almost wholly Here we passed the night, and next
slain. I was there, a novice in arms% morning rode up by the steep traverses
I had great fear, and at last great joy, on to the Santo Eremo, where Saint Ro-
account o f the divers chances o f the mualdo lived and established
fight.’ One must not see in this phrase de’ tacenti cenobiti il coro,
the confession o f cowardice, which L ’ arcane penitenze, ed i digiuni
could have no place in a soul tempered A 1 Cam aldoli suo.
like that o f Alighieri. T h e only fear “ The Eremo is a city o f hermits,

he had was lest the battle should be walled round, and divided into streets
lost. In fact, the Florentines at first o f low, detached cells. Each cell con
seemed beaten; their infantry fell back sists o f two or three naked rooms, built
before the Aretine cavalry; but this exactly on the plan o f the Saint’s own
first advantage o f the enemy was its tenement, which remains just as Ro-
destruction, by dividing its forces. mualdo left it eight hundred years ago;
These were the vicissitudes o f the now too sacred and too damp for a
battle to which Dante alludes, and mortal tenant.
which at first excited his fears, and “ T h e unfeeling Saint has here es
then caused his jo y ,” tablished a rule which anticipates the
96. T h e Convent o f Camaldoli, thus pains o f Purgatory. No stranger can
described by Forsyth, Italy, p. 1 1 7 : — behold without emotion a number of
“ We now crossed the beautiful vale noble, interesting young men bound to
238 Notes
stand erect chanting at choir for eight when the cloud has waxed great, so
hours a day ; their faces pale, their that it can no longer support the abun
heads shaven, their beards shaggy, their dance o f water, which is there as va
backs raw, their legs swollen, and their por, it must needs fall to earth, and
feet bare. With this horrible insti that is the rain.”
tute the climate conspires in severity, 1 1 2 . In Ephesians ii. 2, the evil
and selects from society the best con spirit is called “ the prince o f the
stitutions. T h e sickly novice is cut power of the air.”
off in one or two winters, the rest are Compare also Inf. X X I I I . 16 ,
subject to dropsy, and few arrive at “ I f anger be engrafted on ill-w ill,”
old age.”
and Inf. X X X I. 55,
97. Where the Archiano loses its
name by flowing into the Arno. “ For where the argument o f intellect
Is added unto evil w ill and power,
104. Epistle of Jude , 9 : “ Yet M i
N o rampart can the people make against it.”
chael the archangel, when contending
with the devil he disputed about the 1 16 . This Pratomagno is the same
body o f Moses, durst not bring against as the Prato Vecchio mentioned in
him a railing accusation, but said, The Note 96. T h e “ great y o k e ” is the
Lord rebuke thee.” ridge o f the Apennines.
And Jeremy Taylor, speaking o f the D r. Barlow, Study of Dante, p. 199,
pardon o f sin, says : “ And while it is has this note on the passage: —
disputed between Christ and Christ’s “ When rain falls from the upper
enemy who shall be Lord, the pardon region o f the air, we observe at a con
fluctuates like the wave, striving to siderable altitude a thin light veil, or
climb the rock, and is washed off like a hazy turbidness; as this increases, the
its own retinue, and it gets possession lower clouds become diffused in it, and
by time and uncertainty, by difficulty form a uniform sheet. Such is the stra
and the degrees of a hard progression.” tus cloud described by Dante (v. 1 1 5 )
109. Brunetto Latini, Tresor, I. ch. as covering the valley from Pratomagno
10 7 : “ Then arise vapors like unto to the ridge on the opposite side above
smoke, and mount aloft in air, where Camaldoli. T his cloud is a widely
little by little they gather and grow, extended horizontal sheet o f vapor, in
until they become dark and dense, so creasing from below, and lying on or
that they take away the sight of the near the earth’s surface. It is prop
sun; and these are the clouds; but erly the cloud o f night, and first ap
they never are so dark as to take away pears about sunset, usually in autumn;
the light of day ; for the sun shines it comprehends creeping mists and fogs
through them, as if it were a candle which ascend from the bottom o f val
in a lantern, which shines outwardly, leys, and from the surface o f lakes and
though it cannot itself be seen. And rivers, in consequence o f air colder
Purgatorio v. 239
than that o f the surface descending and Benvenuto da Imola gives a different
mingling with it, and from the air over version o f the story, and says that by
the adjacent land cooling down more command o f the husband she was
rapidly than that over the water, from thrown from the window of her pal
which increased evaporation is taking ace into the street, and died o f the
place.” fall.
118 . Milton, Parad. Lost, IV . 500: Bandello, the Italian Novelist, Pt. I.
A s Jupiter Nov. 12 , says that the narrative is true,
On Jun o smiles, when he impregns the clouds and gives minutely the story o f the
T h a t bring M ay-flow ers.” lovers, with such embellishments as his
1 26. His arms crossed upon his imagination suggested.
breast. Ugo Foscolo, Edinb. Review , X X IX .
134. Ampere,P’oyage Dantesquey2$5'. 458, speaks thus : —
“ Who was this unhappy and perhaps “ Shakespeare unfolds the character
guilty woman ? T h e commentators o f his persons, and presents them under
say that she was o f the family o f Tolo- all the variety o f forms which they can
mei, illustrious at Siena. Among the naturally assume. He surrounds them
different versions o f her story there is with all the splendor of his imagina
one truly terrible. The outraged hus tion, and bestows on them that full
band led his wife to an isolated castle and minute reality which his creative
in the Maremma o f Siena, and there^ genius could alone confer. O f all
shut himself up with his victim, wait tragic poets, he most amply develops
ing his vengeance from the poisoned character. On the other hand, Dante,
atmosphere of this solitude. Breathing if compared not only to V irgil, the
with her the air which was killing her, most sober o f poets, but even to T aci
he saw her slowly perish. This fu tus, will be found never to employ
neral tete-a-tete found him always im more than a stroke or two o f his pen
passive, until, according to the ex cil, which he aims at imprinting almost
pression of Dante, the Maremma had insensibly on the hearts of his readers.
unmade what he had once loved. This Virgil has related the story of Eury-
melancholy story might well have no dice in two hundred verses ; Dante, in
other foundation than the enigma o f sixty verses, has finished his master
Dante’s lines, and the terror with which piece, — the tale o f Francesca da R i
this enigma may have struck the imagi mini. The history of Desdemona has
nations o f his contemporaries. a parallel in the following passage of
(C However this may be, one cannot Dante. Nello della Pietra had es
prevent an involuntary shudder, when, poused a lady o f noble family at Sien
showing you a pretty little brick pal na, named Madonna Pia. Her beauty
ace [at Siena], they say, ‘ That is the was the admiration o f Tuscany, and
house o f the Pia.’ ” excited in the heart o f her husband a
240 Notes
jealousy, which, exasperated by false her, plunged in sadness and perpetual
reports and groundless suspicions, at silence. Dante had, in this incident,
length drove him to the desperate res all the materials o f an ample and very
olution o f Othello. It is difficult to poetical narrative. But he bestows on
decide whether the lady was quite in it only four verses.”
nocent ; but so Dante represents her. For a description o f the Maremma,
Her husband brought her into the see Inf. X III. Note 9.
Maremma, which, then as now, was Also Rogers, Italy, near the end : —
a district destructive to health. He “ W h ere the path
never told his unfortunate wife the Is lost in rank luxuriance, and to breathe
reason o f her banishment to so dan Is to inhale distemper, i f not death j
gerous a country. He did not deign W h ere the w ild-boar retreats, when hunters
chafe,
to utter complaint or accusation. He
A n d , w hen the day-star flames, the buffalo-
lived with her alone, in cold silence,
herd
without answering her questions, or Afflicted plunge into the stagnant pool,
listening to her remonstrances. He N o th ing discerned amid the water-leaves,
patiently waited till the pestilential air Save here and there the likeness o f a head,
should destroy the health of this young Savage, uncouth ; where none in human shape
Com e, save the herdsman, levelling his length
lady. In a few months she died.
O f lance w ith many a cry, or T a rta r-lik e
Some chroniclers, indeed, tell us, that
U rgin g his steed along the distant hill,
Nello used the dagger to hasten her A s from a danger.”
death. It is certain that he survived
CAN TO V I.
1. Zara was a game o f chance, Benincasa, he plunged his dagger into

played with three dice. his heart, leaped from the balcony, and
13 . Messer Benincasa o f Arezzo, disappeared in the midst o f the crowd
who, while Vicario del Podesta, or stupefied with terror.”
Judge, in Siena, sentenced to death a 14. T his terrible Ghino di Tacco
brother and a nephew o f Ghino di was a nobleman o f Asinalunga in the
Tacco for highway robbery. He was territory o f Siena ; one o f those splen
afterwards an Auditor o f the Ruota in did fellows, who, from some real or
Rome, where, says Benvenuto, “ one imaginary wrong done them, take to
day as he sat in the tribunal, in the the mountains and highways to avenge
midst of a thousand people, Ghino di themselves on society. He is the true
Tacco appeared like Scasvola, terrible type o f the traditionary stage bandit,
and nothing daunted; and having seized the magnanimous melodramatic hero,
Purgatorio vi. 241
who utters such noble sentiments and “ Ghino di Tacco was a man fa
commits such atrocious deeds. mous for his bold and insolent robberies,
Benvenuto is evidently dazzled and who being banished from Siena, and at
fascinated by him, and has to throw utter enmity with the Counts di Santa
two Romans into the scale to do him Fiore, caused the town of Radicofani
justice. His account is as follows : — to rebel against the Church, and lived
“ Reader, I would have thee know there whilst his gang robbed all who
that Ghino was not, as some write, so passed that way. Now when Boniface
infamous as to be a great assassin and the Eighth was Pope, there came to
highway robber. For this Ghino di court the Abbot o f Cligni, reputed to
Tacco was a wonderful man, tall, mus be one o f the richest prelates in the
cular, black-haired, and strong; as agile world, and having debauched his stom
as Sccevola, as prudent and liberal as ach with high living, he was advised
Papirius Cursor. He was o f the no by his physicians to go to the baths o f
bles o f La Fratta, in the county o f Sie Siena, as a certain cure. And, having
na ; who, being forcibly banished by leave from the Pope, he set out with
the Counts of Santafiore, held the noble a goodly train o f coaches, carriages,
castle of Radicofani against the Pope. horses, and servants, paying no respect
With his marauders he made many and to the rumors concerning this robber.
great prizes, so that no one could go Ghino was apprised of his coming, and
safely to Rome or elsewhere through took his measures accordingly ; when,
those regions. Yet hardly any one fell without the loss of a man, he enclosed
into his hands, who did not go away the Abbot and his whole retinue in a
contented, and love and praise him......... narrow defile, where it was impossible
I f a merchant were taken prisoner, for them to escape. T his being done,
Ghino asked him kindly how much he he sent one of his principal fellows to
was able to give him ; and if he said five the Abbot with his service, requesting
hundred pieces o f gold, he kept three the favor o f him to alight and visit
hundred for himself, and gave back two him at his castle. Upon which the
hundred, saying, ‘ I wish you to go on Abbot replied, with a great deal of pas
with your business and to thrive.’ I f sion, that he had nothing to do with
it were a rich and fat priest, he kept Ghino, but that his resolution was to
his handsome mule, and gave him a go on, and he would see who dared to
wretched horse. And if it were a poor stop him. ‘ M y Lord/ quoth the
scholar, going to study, he gave him man, with a great deal o f humility,
some money, and exhorted him to good ‘ you are now in a place where all ex-
conduct and proficiency in learning.,, communications are kicked out of doors;
Boccaccio, Decamerone, X. 2, relates then please to oblige my master in
the following adventure o f Ghino di this thing ; it will be your best way.*
Tacco and the Abbot o f Cligni. Whilst they were talking together, the
v o l. 11. 31
242 Notes
place was surrounded with highway demanding more particularly to see
men, and the Abbot, seeing himself a this Ghino. But Ghino passed over
prisoner, went with a great deal of ill- part o f what he said as vain, and the
will with the fellow to the castle, fol rest he answered very courteously, de
lowed by his whole retinue, where he claring that Ghino meant to make him
dismounted, and was lodged, by Ghino’s a visit very soon, and then left him.
appointment, in a poor, dark little He saw him no more till next morn
room, whilst every other person was ing, when he brought him as much
well accommodated according to his bread and wine as before, and in the
respective station, and the carriages and same manner. And thus he continued
all the horses taken exact care of. during many days, till he found the Ab
T his being done, Ghino went to the bot had eaten some dried beans, which
Abbot, and said, * M y Lord, Ghino, he had left purposely in the chamber,
whose guest you are, requests the favor when he inquired of him, as from
o f you to let him know whither you Ghino, how he found his stomach ?
are going, and upon what account ? * T h e Abbot replied, f I should be well
T h e Abbot was wise enough to lay all enough were I out o f this man’ s clutches.
his haughtiness aside for the present, There is nothing I want now so much
and satisfied him with regard to both. as to eat, for his medicines have had
Ghino went away at hearing this, and, such an effect upon me, that I am fit
resolving to cure him without a bath, to die with hunger.” Ghino, then,
he ordered a great fire to be kept con having furnished a room with the A b
stantly in his room, coming to him bot’s own goods, and provided an ele
no more till next morning, when he gant entertainment, to which many
brought him two slices o f toasted bread, people o f the town were invited, as
in a fine napkin, and a large glass of his well as the Abbot’s own domestics,
own rich white wine, saying to him, went the next morning to him, and
‘ M y Lord, when Ghino was young, said, ‘ M y Lord, now you find yourself
he studied physic, and he declares that recovered, it is time for you to quit
the very best medicine for a pain in this infirmary.’ So he took him by
the stomach is what he has now pro the hand, and led him into the cham
vided for you, of which these things are ber, leaving him there with his own
to be the beginning. Then take them, people ; and as he went out to give
and have a good heart.’ T he Abbot, orders about the feast, the Abbot was
whose hunger was much greater than giving an account how he had led his
was his will to joke, ate the bread, life in that place, whilst they declared
though with a great deal of indigna that they had been used by Ghino with
tion, and drank the glass of wine; after all possible respect. When the time
which he began to talk a little arro came, they sat down and were nobly
gantly, asking many questions, and entertained, but still without Ghino’s
Purgatorio vi. 243
making himself known. But after the and resentment into kindness and good
Abbot had continued some days in that w ill, he ran with a heart full o f friend
manner, Ghino had all the goods and ship to embrace him : * I protest sol
furniture brought into a large room, emnly, that to procure the friendship
and the horses were likewise led into of such an one as I take you to be, I
the court-yard which was under it, would undergo more than what you
when he inquired how his Lordship have already made me suffer. Cursed
now found himself, or whether he was be that evil fortune which has thrown
yet able to ride. The Abbot made an you into this way of life !” So, taking
swer that he was strong enough, and only a few of his most necessary things,
his stomach perfectly well, and that he and also of his horses, and leaving all
only wanted to quit this man. Ghino the rest, he came back to Rome. The
then brought him into the room where Pope had heard of the Abbot’s being a
all his goods were, showing him also prisoner, and though he was much
to the window, that he might take a concerned at it, yet, upon seeing him,
view of his horses, when he said, ‘ M y he inquired what benefit he had re
Lord, you must understand it was no ceived from the baths ? T h e Abbot
evil disposition, but his being driven replied, with a smile, * H oly Father,
a poor exile from his own house, and I found a physician much nearer, who
persecuted with many enemies, that has cured me excellently well ’ ; and
forced Ghino di Tacco, whom I ant, he told him the manner o f it, which
to be a robber upon the highways, and made the Pope laugh heartily, when,
an enemy to the court of Rome. You going on with his story, and moved
seem, however, to be a person of with a truly generous spirit, he requested
honor ; as, therefore, I have cured you o f his Holiness one favor. T h e Pope,
o f your pain in your stomach, I do not imagining he would ask something else,
mean to treat you as I would do an freely consented to grant it. Then
other person that should fall into my said the Abbot, * Holy Father, what
hands, that is, to take what I please, I mean to require is, that you would
but I would have you consider my ne bestow a free pardon on Ghino di
cessity, and then give me what you Tacco, my doctor, because, o f all peo
will yourself. Here is all that belongs ple o f worth that I ever met with, he
to you ; the horses you may see out certainly is most to be esteemed, and
o f the window: take either part or the the damage he does is more the fault
whole, just as you are disposed, and go o f fortune than himself. Change but
or stay, as is most agreeable to you.” his condition, and give him something
T he Abbot was surprised to hear a to live upon, according to his rank and
highwayman talk in so courteous a station, and I dare say you will have
manner, which did not a little please the same opinion of him that I have.’
him ; so, turning all his former passion T h e Pope, being o f a noble spirit^ and
244 Notes
a great encourager o f merit, promised torting from him the exclamation,
to do so, if he was such a person as he “ T h y patience overcomes my obdu
reported, and, in the mean time, gave racy.” T his was an example o f Chris
letters of safe-conduct for his coming tian forgiveness which even that vin
thither. Upon that assurance, Ghino dictive age applauded.
came to court, when the Pope was 19. Count Orso was a son o f Napo-
soon convinced o f his worth, and rec leone d’ Acerbaja, and was slain by his
onciled to him, giving him the priory brother-in-law (or uncle) Alberto.
o f an hospital, and creating him a 22. Pierre de la JBrosse was the sec
knight. And there he Continued as retary o f Philip le Bel o f France, and
a friend and loyal servant to the H oly suffered at his hands a fate similar to
Church, and to the Abbot o f Cligni, that which befell Pier della Vigna at
as long as he lived.” the court o f Frederick the Second.
15 . Cione de’ Tarlati o f Pietramala, See Inf. X I II . Note 58. Being ac
who, according to the Ottimo, after the cused by Marie de Brabant, the wife
fight at Bibbiena, being pursued by the o f Philip, of having written love-letters
enemy, endeavored to ford the Arno, to her, he was condemned to death by
and was drowned. Others interpret the king in 1276 , Benvenuto thinks
the line differently, making him the that during his residence in Paris Dante
pursuing party. But as he was an learned the truth o f the innocence of
Aretine, and the Aretines were routed Pierre de la Brosse.
in this battle, the other rendering is 30. In jEneid, V I . : “ Cease to hope
doubtless the true one. that the decrees o f the gods are to be
17 . Federigo Novello, son o f Ser changed by prayers.”
Guido Novello o f Casentino, slain by 37. T h e apex juris , or top o f judg
one o f the Bostoli. “ A good youth,” ment ; the supreme decree o f God.
says Benvenuto, “ and therefore Dante Measure fo r Measure, II. 2 : —
makes mention o f him.” “ H o w would you be,
T h e Pisan who gave occasion to I f H e who is the top o f judgm ent should
Marzucco to show his fortitude was But judge you as you a r e ? ”
Marzucco’s own son, Farinata degli 5 1. V irgil’s Bucolics, Eclogue I . :

Scoringiani. He was slain by Beccio “ And now the high tops o f the villages
da Caproni, or, as Benvenuto asserts, smoke afar, and larger shadows fall
declaring that Boccaccio told him so, from the lofty mountains.”
by Count Ugolino. His father, M ar 74. T h is has generally been sup
zucco, who had become a Franciscan posed to be Sordello the Troubadour.
friar, showed no resentment at the But is it he ? Is it Sordello the Trou
murder, but went with the other friars badour, or Sordello the Podesta o f Ve
to his son’s funeral, and in humility rona ? or are they one and the same
kissed the hand o f the murderer, ex person? After much research, it is
Pur gatorio vi. 245
not easy to decide the question, and and rivalled the good men o f the court
to as far as possible, and wrote love-songs
“ Single out
and satires. And he came to the court
Sordello, compassed m u rkily about
of the Count of Saint Boniface, and the
W ith ravage o f six long sad hundred years.”
Count honored him greatly, and by
Yet as far as it is possible to learn it way of pastime (a forma de solatz) he
from various conflicting authorities, fell in love with the wife o f the Count,
“ W h o w ill may hear Sordello’s story told.” and she with him. And it happened
Dante, in his treatise De Volgari that the Count quarrelled with her
Eloquioy I. 15 , speaks o f Sordello o f brothers, and became estranged from
Mantua as “ a man so choice in his her. And her brothers, Sir Icellis and
language, that not only in his poems, Sir Albrics, persuaded Sir Sordello to
but in whatever way he spoke, he run away with her ; and he came to
abandoned the dialect of his province.’ > live with them in great content. And
But here there is no question o f the afterwards he went into Provence, and
Provencal in which Sordello the Trou received great honor from all good
badour wrote, but only o f Italian, dia men, and from the Count and Countess,
lects in comparison with the universal who gave him a good castle and a
and cultivated Italian, which Dante gentlewoman for his w ife.”
says “ belongs to all the Italian cities, Citing this passage, M illot, Hist. Litt.
and seems to belong exclusively *0 des Troub., II. 80, goes on to say : —
none.” In the same treatise, II. 13 , “ This is all that our manuscripts tell
he mentions a certain Gotto o f Mantua us o f Sordello. According to Agnelli
as the author of many good songs; and and Platina, historians of Mantua, he
this Gotto is supposed to be Sordello, was o f the house of the Visconti of
as Sordello was born at Goi'to in the that city ; valiant in deeds of arms, fa
province o f Mantua. But would Dante mous in jousts and tournaments, he
in the same treatise allude to the same won the love o f Beatrice, daughter o f
person under different names? Is not Ezzelin da Romano, Lord of the Marca
this rather the Sordel de G oi, mentioned Trevigiana, and married h er; he gov
by Raynouard, Poesies des Troub., V . erned Mantua as Podesta and Captain-
445 ? General ; and though son-in-law of the
In the old P roveâl manuscript tyrant Ezzelin, he always opposed him,
quoted by Raynouard, Poesies des Troub., being a great lover of justice.
V . 444, Sordello’s biography is thus “ We find these facts cited by Cres-
given : — cimbeni, who says that Sordello was
“ Sordello was a Mantuan o f Sirier, the lord o f Goito ; but as they are not
son o f a poor knight, whose name was applicable to our poet, we presume
Sir E l Cort. And he delighted in they refer to a warrior o f the same
learning songs and in making them, name, and perhaps o f a different family.
246 Notes
“ Among the pieces o f Sordello, 452, Emeric-David, after discussing the
thirty-four in number, there are some subject at length, says : —
fifteen songs o f gallantry, though Nos- “ Who then is this Sordello, haughty
trodamus says that all his pieces turn and superb, like a lion in repose,—
only upon philosophic subjects.” this Sordello, who, in embracing V ir
Nostrodamus’s account, as given by gil, gives rise to this sudden explosion
Crescimbeni, Volgar Poesia, II. 10 5, is o f the patriotic sentiments of Dante ?
as follows : — Is it a singer o f love and gallantry ?
“ Sordello was a Mantuan poet, who Impossible. This Sordello is the old
surpassed in Provencal song Calvo, Podesta of Mantua, as decided a Ghib-
Folchetto of Marseilles, Lanfranco C i elline as Dante him self; and Dante
cala, Percival Doria, and all the other utters before him sentiments which he
Genoese and Tuscan poets, who took well knows the zealous Ghibelline will
far greater delight in our Proven9al share. And what still more confirms
tongue, on account o f its sweetness, our judgment is, that Sordello embraces
than in their own maternal language. the knees o f V irgil, exclaiming, ‘ O
T h is poet was very studious, and ex glory of the Latians/ &c. In this ad
ceeding eager to know all things, and miration, in this love of the Latin
as much as any one of his nation ex tongue, we still see the Podesta, the
cellent in learning as well as in under writer of Latin ; we do not see the
standing and in prudence. He wrote Troubadour. ”
several beautiful songs, not indeed of Benvenuto calls Sordello a " noble
love, for not one o f that kind is found and prudent knight,” and “ a man of
among his works, but on philosophic singular virtue in the world, though o f
subjects. Raymond Belinghieri, the impenitent life,” and tells a story he
last Count of Provence of that name, in has heard o f him and Cunizza, but does
the last days o f his life, (the poet being not vouch for it. “ Ezzelino,” he says,
then but fifteen years of age,) on ac “ had a sister greatly addicted to the
count o f the excellence of his poetry pleasures o f love, concerning whom
and the rare invention shown in his pro much is said in the ninth Canto of Pa-
ductions, took him into his service, as radiso. She, being enamored o f Sor
Pietro di Castelnuovo, himself a Pro- dello, had cautiously contrived that he
ven9al poet, informs us. He also should visit her at night by a back door
wrote various satires in the same lan near the kitchen o f her palace at V e
guage, and among others one in which rona. And as there was in the street
he reproves all the Christian princes; a dirty slough in which the swine wal
and it is composed in the form of a lowed, and puddles o f filthy water, so „
funeral song on the death o f Blan- that the place would seem in no way
casso.?, suspicious, he caused himself to be car
In the Hist. Lift, de la France, X IX . ried by her servant to the door where
Purgatorio vi. 247
Cunizza stood ready to receive him. being a great lover o f justice, as Agnelli
Ezzelino having heard o f this, one writes. Finally he died, very old and
evening, disguised as a servant, car full o f honor, about 1280. He wrote
ried Sordello, and brought him back. not only in Provencal, but also in our
Which done, he discovered himself to own common Italian tongue ; and he
Sordello., and said, ‘ Enough; abstain in was one of those poets who avoided
future from doing so foul a deed in so the dialect of his own province, and
foul a place.’ Sordello, terrified, hum used the good, choice language, as
bly besought pardon; promising never Dante affirms in his book of Volgar
more to return to his sister. But the Eloquenxa
accursed Cunizza again enticed him in I f the reader is not already suf
to his former error. Wherefore, fear ficiently confused, he can easily be
ing Ezzelino, the most formidable man come so by turning to Tiraboschi,
o f his time, he left the city. But E z Storia della Lett. Ital.y IV . 360, where
zelino, as some say, afterwards had him he will find the matter thoroughly dis
put to death.” cussed, in sixteen solid pages, by the
He says, moreover, that Dante places patient librarian of Modena, who final
Sordello alone and separate from the ly gives up in despair and calls on the
others, like Saladin in Inf. IV . 129, on Royal Academy for help ;
account of his superiority, or because^ “ But that were overbold ; —
he wrote a book entitled “ The Treasure W h o would has heard Sordello’s story told.”
o f Treasures” ; and that Sordello was 76. Before Dante’s time Fra Guit-
a Mantuan of the village o f G oito,— tone had said, in his famous Letter to
“ beautiful of person, valiant o f spirit, the Florentines: “ O queen of cities,
gentle o f manner.” court of justice, school of wisdom,
Finally, Quadrio, Storia d* ogni Poesia, mirror of life, and mould of manners,
II. 130 , easily cuts the knot which no one whose sons were kings, reigning in
can untie; but unfortunately he does not every land, or were above all others,
give his authorities. He writes : — who art no longer queen but servant,
“ Sordello, native o f Goito, (Sordel oppressed and subject to tribute ! no
de G oi,) a village in the Mantuan ter longer court of justice, but cave o f rob
ritory, was born in 118 4 , and was the bers, and school o f all folly and mad
son of a poor knight named Elcort.” ness, mirror o f death and mould of
He then repeats the story o f Count felony, whose great strength is stripped
Saint Boniface, and of Sordello’s recep and broken, whose beautiful face is
tion by Count Raymond in Provence, covered with foulness and shame ;
and adds: “ Having afterwards returned whose sons are no longer kings but
to Italy, he governed Mantua with the vile and wretched servants, held, wher
title o f Regent and Captain-General; ever they go, in opprobrium and de
and was opposed to the tyrant Ezzelino, rision by others.”
248 Notes
See also Petrarca, Canzone X V I ., respect or obedience o f independent
Lady Dacre’s T r ., beginning: — nations. Wise or fortunate is the
“ O my own Italy ! though words are vain prince who connects his own reputa
T h e mortal wounds to close, tion with the honor and interest o f a
Unnumbered, that thy beauteous bosom stain, perpetual order o f men.”
Y e t may it soothe my pain
92. Luke xii. 1 7 : “ Render to Cae
T o sigh for the T ib e r’s woes,
sar the things that are Ceesar’s, and to
A n d A rn o ’s wrongs, as on Po ’s saddened shore
Sorrowing I wander and m y numbers pour.” God the things that are God’s.”
And in the Vision of Piers Plough-
And Filicaja’s sonnet: —
many 563 : —
“ Italy ! Italy ! thou who ’rt doomed to wear
T h e fatal gift o f beauty, and possess “ Rcddite Ctesari, quod G od,
T h e dower funest o f infinite wretchedness, T h a t Casari bifalleth,
W ritten upon thy forehead by despair ; E t q u a sunt D ei Deo,
A h ! would that thou wert stronger, or less O r ellis ye don ille.”
fair,
97. Albert, son o f the Emperor
T h a t they m ight fear thee more, or love
thee less,
Rudolph, was the second o f the house
W h o in the splendor o f thy loveliness o f Hapsburg who bore the title of
Seem wasting, yet to mortal combat d are! King o f the Romans. H e was elected
T h e n from the A lp s I should notsee descending in 1298, but never went to Italy to be
Su ch torrents o f armed men, nor G allic
crowned. He came to an untimely
horde
and violent death, by the hand o f his
D rinking the wave o f Po, distained w ith
gore,
nephew John, in 1308. T his is the
N o r should I see thee girded w ith a sword judgment o f Heaven to which Dante
N o t thine, and w ith the stranger’s arm alludes.
contending, His successor was Henry o f Luxem
V icto r or vanquished, slave forevermore.”
bourg, Dante’s “ divine and triumphant
89. Gibbon, Decline and Fall, Ch. H enry,” who, in 1 3 1 1 , was crowned
X L I V ., says : — at Milan with the Iron Crown o f Lom
“ T h e vain titles o f the victories o f bardy, il Sacro Chiodo, as it is some
Justinian are crumbled into dust; but times called, from the plate o f iron with
the name of the legislator is inscribed which the crown is lined, being, ac
on a fair and everlasting monument. cording to tradition, made from a nail
Under his reign, and by his care, the of the Cross. In 1 3 1 2 , he was again
civil jurisprudence was digested in the crowned with the Golden Crown at
immortal works of the C o d e , the P a n Rome, and died in the following year.
d e c t s , and the I n s t i t u t e s ; the public “ But the end o f his career drew on,”
reason of the Romans has been silently says Milman, Latin Christ., V I. 520.
or studiously transfused into the do “ He had now advanced, at the head
mestic institutions of Europe, and the o f an army which his enemies dared
laws o f Justinian still command the not meet in the field, towards Siena.
Purgatovio vi. 249
He rode still, seemingly in full vigor fiercely torn by faction than the last,)
and activity. But the fatal air of Rome * universal Peace is the first blessing o f
had smitten his strength. A carbuncle mankind. The angels sang, not riches
had formed under his knee; injudicious or pleasures, but peace on earth: peace
remedies inflamed his vitiated blood. the Lord bequeathed to his disciples.
He died at Buonconvento, in the midst For peace One must rule. Mankind is
o f his awe-struck army, on the festival most like God when at unity, for God
o f St. Bartholomew. Rumors o f foul is One ; therefore under a monarchy.
practice, o f course, spread abroad; a Where there is parity there must be
Dominican monk was said to have ad strife; where strife, judgment; the
ministered poison in the Sacrament, judge must be a third party interven
which he received with profound de ing with supreme authority.’ With
votion. His body was carried in sad out monarchy can be no justice, nor
state, and splendidly interred at Pisa. even liberty; for Dante’s monarch is
“ So closed that empire, in which, no arbitrary despot, but a constitutional
i f the more factious and vulgar Ghibel sovereign ; he is the Roman law im
lines beheld their restoration to their personated in the Em peror; a monarch
native city, their triumph, their re who should leave all the nations, all
venge, their sole administration o f pub the free Italian cities, in possession o f
lic affairs, the nobler Ghibellinism o f their rights and old municipal institu
Dante foresaw the establishment o f a^ tions.”
great universal monarchy necessary to 106. T h e two noble families o f V e
the peace and civilization o f mankind. rona, the Montagues and Capulets,
T h e ideal sovereign o f Dante’s famous whose quarrels have been made familiar
treatise on Monarchy was Henry of to the English-speaking world by Romeo
Luxembourg. Neither Dante nor his and Ju lie t: —
time can be understood but through “ Th ree civil brawls, bred o f an airy word,
this treatise. T h e attempt o f the Pope B y thee, old Capulet and M ontague,
H ave thrice disturbed the quiet o f our streets,
to raise himself to a great pontifical
A n d made V eron a’s ancient citizens
monarchy had manifestly ignomini-
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
ously failed : the Ghibelline is neither T o wield old partisans, in hands as old,
amazed nor distressed at this event. Cankered w ith peace, to part your cankered
It is now the turn o f the Imperialist to hate.”
unfold his noble vision. ‘ An universal 107. Families o f Orvieto.

monarchy is absolutely necessary for i n . Santafiore is in the neighbor
the welfare of the world *; and this is hood o f Siena, and much infested with
part of his singular reasoning: ‘ Peace,’ banditti.
(says the weary exile, the man worn 112 . T h e state o f Rome in Dante’s
out in cruel strife, the wanderer from time is thus described by M r. Norton,
city to city, each o f those cities more Travel and Study, pp. 246 - 248 : —
v o l . 11. 32
2 50 Notes
“ On the slope o f the Quirinal H ill, ries were still to pass before Michel
in the quiet enclosure o f the convent Angelo, Bernini, and Borromini were
o f St. Catharine of Siena, stands a to stamp its present character upon the
square, brick tower, seven stories high. face of the modern city. T h e siege
It is a conspicuous object in any general and burning o f Rome by Robert Guis-
view of Rom e; for there are few other card, in 1084, may be taken as the
towers so tall, and there is not a single dividing-line between the city of the
spire or steeple in the city. It is the Emperors and the city o f the Popes,
Torre delle M ilizie. It was begun by between ancient and modern Rome.
Pope Gregory the Ninth, and finished . . . . Rome was in a state o f too deep
near the end of the thirteenth century depression, its people were too turbu
by his vigorous and warlike successor, lent and unsettled, to have either the
Boniface the Eighth. Many such tow spirit or the opportunity for great
ers were built for the purposes of pri works. There was no established and
vate warfare, in those times when the recognized authority, no regular course
streets o f Rome were the fighting- of justice. There was not even any
places of its noble families; but this is, strong force, rarely any overwhelming
perhaps, the only one that now re violence, which for a time at least
mains undiminished in height and un could subdue opposition, and organize
altered in appearance. It was a new a steady, and consequently a beneficent
building when Dante visited Rome ; tyranny. T h e city was continually
and it is one o f the very few edifices distracted by petty personal quarrels,
that still preserve the aspect they then and by bitter family feuds. Its obscure
presented. T h e older ruins have been annals are full o f bloody civil victories
greatly changed in appearance, and and defeats, — victories which brought
most of the structures of the Middle no gain to those who won them, de
Ages have disappeared, in the vicissi feats which taught no lesson to those
tudes o f the last few centuries. The who lost them. T h e breath of liberty
Forum was then filled with a confused never inspired with life the dead clay
mass of ruins and miserable dwellings, o f R om e; and though for a time it
with no street running through their in might seem to kindle some vital heat,
tricacies. The Capitol was surrounded the glow soon grew cold, and speedily
with uneven battlemented walls, and disappeared. T h e records of Florence,
bore the character and look of an ir Siena, Bologna, and Perugia are as full
regular citadel. St. Peter’s was a low o f fighting and bloodshed as those of
basilica ; the Colosseum had suffered Rome ; but their fights were not mere
little from the attacks of Popes or brawls, nor were their triumphs always
princes, neither the Venetian nor the barren. Even the twelfth and thir
Farnese palace having as yet been built teenth centuries, which were like the
with stones from its walls ; and centu coming of the spring after a long win
Purgatorio vi. 251
ter, making the earth to blossom, and Caesar. Pope’s Essay on Man, Ep. I V
gladdening the hearts o f men, — the 257 : —
centuries which elsewhere in Italy, “ A n d more true jo y M arcellus exiled feels,
and over the rest of Europe, gave birth T h an Caesar with a senate at his heels.”
to the noblest mediaeval Art, when 127. O f the state o f Florence, Na
every great city was adorning itself pier writes, Flor. Hist., I. 1 2 2 : —
with the beautiful works of the new “ It was not the simple movement
architecture, sculpture, and painting, o f one great body against another ; not
— even these centuries left scarcely any the force of a government in opposition
token o f their passage over Rome. to the people; not the struggle of
Th e sun, breaking through the clouds privilege and democracy, o f poverty
that had long hidden it, shone every and riches, or starvation and repletion;
where but here. While Florence was but one universal burst o f unmitigated
building her Cathedral and her Cam anarchy. In the streets, lanes, and
panile, and Orvieto her matchless Duo- squares, in the courts o f palaces and
mo, — while Pisa was showing her humbler dwellings, were heard the
piety and her wealth in her Cathedral, clang of arms, the screams o f victims,
her Camposanto, her Baptistery, and and the gush o f blood : the bow of
her Tow er, — while Siena was begin the bridegroom launched its arrows
ning a church greater and more mag into the very chambers o f his young
nificent in design than her shifting for-^bride’s parents and relations, and the
tune would permit her to complete,— bleeding son, the murdered brother, or
Rome was building neither cathedral the dying husband were the evening
nor campanile, but was selling the visitors o f Florentine maids and ma
marbles o f her ancient temples and trons, and aged citizens. Every art
tombs to the builders o f other cities, was practised to seduce and deceive,
or quarrying them for her own mean and none felt secure even o f their
uses.” nearest and dearest relatives. In the
118 . T his recalls Pope’s Universal morning a son left his paternal roof
Prayer, — with undiminished love, and returned
" Father o f all ! in every age, at evening a corpse, or the most bitter
In every clim e, adored, enemy ! Terror and death were tri
B y saint, by savage, and by sage, umphant ; there was no relaxation, no
Jeh ovah , Jo v e , or Lord ! ”
peace by day or n igh t: the crash o f
12 5. Not the great Roman general the stone, the twang o f the bow, the
who took Syracuse, after Archimedes whizzing shaft, the jar of the trembling
had defended it so long with his en mangonel from tower and turret, were
gines and burning-glasses, but a descend the dismal music of Florence, not only
ant of his, who in the civil wars took for hours and days, but months and
part with Pompey and was banished by years. Doors, windows, the jutting
Notes
galleries and roofs, were all defended, ciprocal destruction, that, from mere
and yet all unsafe: no spot was sacred, lassitude, they finally ceased thus to
no tenement secure : in the dead o f mangle each other, and, as it were for
night, the most secret chambers, the relaxation, turned their fury on the
very hangings, even the nuptial bed neighboring states.”
itself, were often known to conceal an 147. Upon this subject Napier,
enemy. Flor. Hist., II. 626, remarks : —
“ Florence in those days was studded “ A characteristic, and, i f discreetly
with lofty towers; most o f the noble handled, a wise regulation of the Flor
families possessed one or more, at least entines, notwithstanding Dante’s sar
two hundred feet in height, and many casms, was the periodical revision o f
o f them far above that altitude. These their statutes and ordinances, a weed
were their pride, their family citadels ; ing out, as it were, o f the obsolete and
and jealously guarded ; glittering with contradictory, and a substitution o f
arms and men, and instruments of war. those which were better adapted to
Every connecting balcony was alive existing circumstances and the forward
with soldiers; the battle raged above movement o f man. There are certain
and below, within and without; stones fundamental laws necessarily permanent
rained >in showers, arrows flew thick and admitted by all communities, as
and fast on every side ; the seraglj, or there are certain moral and theological
barricades, were attacked and defended truths acknowledged by all religions ;
by chosen bands armed with lances but these broad frames or outlines are
and boar-spears ; foes were in ambush commonly filled up with a thick net
at every corner, watching the bold or work of subordinate regulations, that
heedless enemy ; confusion was every cover them like cobwebs, and often
where triumphant, a demon seemed to impede the march o f improvement.
possess the community, and the public T h e Florentines were early aware of
mind, reeling with hatred, was steady this, and therefore revised their laws
only in the pursuit o f blood. Yet so and institutions more or less frequently
accustomed did they at last become to and sometimes factiously, according to
this fiendish life, that one day they the turbulent or tranquil condition of
fought, the next caroused together in the times; but in 1394, after forty years’
drunken gambols, foe with foe, boast omission, an officer was nominated for
ing of their mutual prowess ; nor was that purpose, but whether permanently
it until after nearly five years o f re or not is doubtful.”
Purgatorio vu. 253
C A N T O V II.
6. See Canto II I. Note 7. “ I , Gonzalo de Berceo, in the gentle sum -
28. Limbo, Inf. IV . 25, the ^fore mer-tide,

W en din g upon a pilgrimage, came to a meadow’s
most circle that surrounds the abyss.”
side;
** T h e re, in so far as I had power to hear, A l l green was it and beautiful, w ith flowers far
W ere lamentations none, but only sighs, and wide,
W h ic h tremulous made the everlasting air. A pleasant spot, I ween, wherein the traveller
A n d this was caused by sorrow without tor m ight abide.
ment Flowers w ith the sweetest odors filled all the
W h ic h the crowds had, that many were sunny air,
and great, A n d not alone refreshed the sense, but stole the
O f infants and o f wom en and o f m en.” mind from care j
34. T h e three Theological Virtues On every side a fountain gushed, whose waters
o f Faith, Hope, and Charity. pure and fair
Ice-cold beneath the summer sun, but warm in
36. The four Cardinal Virtues,
winter were.
Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Tem
T here on the th ick and shadowy trees, amid
perance. the foliage green,
44. John xii. 3 5 : “ Then Jesus said W ere the fig and the pomegranate, the pear and
unto them, Yet a little while is th« apple $een,
light with you. Walk while ye have A n d other fruits o f various kinds, the tufted
the light, lest darkness come upon you: leaves between j
N one were unpleasant to the taste and none
for he that walketh in darkness know-
decayed, I ween.
eth not whither he goeth.” T h e verdure o f the meadow green, the odor
70. In the Middle Ages the longing o f the flowers,
for rest and escape from danger, which T h e grateful shadows o f the trees, tempered with
found its expression in cloisters, is ex fragrant showers,
pressed in poetry by descriptions o f Refreshed me in the burning heat o f the sultry

noontide hours ;
flowery, secluded meadows, suggest
O , one m ight live upon the balm and fragrance
ing the classic meadows of asphodel.
o f those bowers.
Dante has given one already in the In N e ’ er had I found on earth a spot that had
ferno, and gives another here. such power to please,
Compare with these the following S u c h shado w s fro m th e su m m er su n , su ch odors
from The Miracles of Our Lady, by on th e b r e e z e ;
Gonzalo de Berceo, a monk o f Cala- I threw m y mantle on the ground, that I m ight
rest at ease,
horra, who lived in the thirteenth
A n d stretched upon the greensward lay in the
century, and is the oldest o f the Cas shadow o f the trees.
tilian poets whose name has come down T h e re , soft reclining in the shade, all cares
to u s : — beside me flung,
254 Notes
I heard the soft and m ellow notes that through by the reference to actual pigments;
the woodland rung.
and, observe, because the other colors
Ear never listened to a strain, from instrument
are rather bright, the blue ground (In
or tongue,
So m ellow and harmonious as the songs above dian wood, indigo ?) is sober ; lucid,
me sung.” but serene ; and presently two angels
See also Brunetto Latini, Tesoretto, enter, who are dressed in the green
X IX . ; the Vision of Piers Ploughman; drapery, but o f a paler green than the
Gower’s Confessio AmantiSy V I I I ., &c. grass, which Dante marks, by telling
73. O f this description Ruskin, Mod us that it was * the green o f leaves just
ern Painters, I I I. 228, remarks : — budded.’
“ Now , almost in the opening o f “ In all this, I wish the reader to ob
the Purgatory, as there at the en serve two things: first, the general
trance of the Inferno, we find a com carefulness o f the poet in defining color,
pany of great ones resting in a grassy distinguishing it precisely as a painter
place. But the idea o f the grass now would (opposed to the Greek careless
is very different. T h e word now used ness about it) ; and, secondly, his re
is not ‘ enamel,’ but * herb,’ and in garding the grass for its greenness and
stead o f being merely green, it is variegation, rather than, as a Greek
covered with flowers o f many colors. would have done, for its depth and
With the usual mediaeval accuracy, freshness. T his greenness or bright
Dante insists on telling us precisely ness, and variegation, are taken up by
what these colors were,and how bright; later and modern poets, as the things
which he does by naming the actual intended to be chiefly expressed by
pigments used in illumination, — ‘ Gold, the word ‘ enamelled’ ; and, gradually,
and fine silver, and cochineal, and the term is taken to indicate any kind
white lead, and Indian wood, serene o f bright and interchangeable coloring;
and lucid, and fresh emerald, just bro there being always this much o f pro
ken, would have been excelled, as less priety about it, when used o f green
is by greater, by the flowers and grass sward, that such sward is indeed, like
o f the place.’ It is evident that the enamel, a coat o f bright color on a
‘ emerald ’ here means the emerald comparatively dark ground ; and is
green o f the illuminators ; for a fresh thus a sort o f natural jewelry and
emerald is no brighter than one which painter’s work, different from loose
is not fresh, and Dante was not one to and large vegetation. T h e word is
throw away his words thus. Observe, often awkwardly and falsely used, by
then, we have here the idea of the the later poets, o f all kinds o f growth
growth, life, and variegation o f the and color; as by Milton of the flowers
‘ green herb,’ as opposed to the smalto of Paradise showing themselves over
o f the Inferno ; but the colors o f the its w a ll; but it retains, nevertheless,
variegation are illustrated and defined through all its jaded inanity, some half-.
Purgatorio vii. 255
unconscious vestige of the old sense, the Emperor as his liege-lord, in the
even to the present day.” island of Kamberg in the middle of the
82. T he old church hymn attributed Danube, under a tent whose curtains
to Arminius or Hermann, Count of should be closed to spare him public
Vehringen, in the eleventh century, mortification. Ottocar presented him
beginning : — self covered with gold and je w e ls;
“ Salve R egina, mater misericordiae, Rudolph, by way of superior pomp,
V ita , dulcedo et spes nostra, salve.” received him in his simplest dress; and
94. Rudolph of Hapsburg, first Em in the middle o f the ceremony the
peror of the house o f Austria, was curtains of the tent fell, and revealed to
crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle in 12 73. the eyes o f the people and o f the
“ It is related,” says Voltaire, Annales armies, that lined the Danube, the
de PEmpire, I. 303, “ that, as the im proud Ottocar on his knees, with his
perial sword, which they pretended hands clasped in the hands o f his con
was that of Charlemagne, could not be queror, whom he had often called his
found, several lords made this defect in maitre d*hotel, and whose G rand-Se
the formalities a pretext for not taking neschal he now became. This story
the oath o f allegiance. He seized a is accredited, and it is o f little impor
■crucifix ; This is my sceptre, he said, tance whether it be true or not.”
and all paid homage to him. This But the wife was not quiet under this
single act o f firmness made him re* humiliation, and excited him to revolt
6pectable, and the rest o f his conduct against Rudolph. He was again over
showed him to be worthy o f the Em come, and killed in battle in 1278.
pire.” 10 1. This Winceslaus, says the Ot-
He would not go to Rome to be timo, was “ most beautiful among all
crowned, and took so little interest in men ; but was not a man of arms ;
Italian affairs, that Italy became al he was a meek and humble ecclesiastic,
most independent o f the Empire, which . and did not live long.” W hy Dante
seems greatly to disturb the mind of accuses him of living in luxury and
Dante. He died in 12 9 1. ease does not appear.
100. Ottocar the Second, king of 10 3. Philip the Third o f France,
Bohemia, who is said to have refused surnamed the Bold ( 1 2 7 0 - 1 2 8 5 ) .
the imperial crown. He likewise re Having invaded Catalonia, in a war
fused to pay homage to Rudolph, whom with Peter the Third o f Aragon, both
he used to call his maitre d'hotel, de by land and sea, he was driven back,
claring he had paid his wages and owed and died at Perpignan during the re
him nothing. Whereupon Rudolph treat.
attacked and subdued him. According 104. He with the benign aspect,
to Voltaire, Annales de PEmpire, I. who rests his cheek upon his hand, is
306, “ he consented to pay homage to Henry o f Navarre, surnamed the Fat,
Notes
and brother o f “ Good King Thibault,” his knights, but eager to acquire land,
Inf. X X II. 52. An old French chron lordship, and money wherever he could,
icle quoted by Philalethes says, that, to furnish means for his enterprises and
“ though it is a general opinion that fat wars. In courtiers, minstrels, and play
men are of a gentle and benign nature, ers he never took delight.”
nevertheless this one was very harsh.” Yet this is the monarch whose tyr
109. Philip the Fourth o f France, anny in Sicily brought about the
surnamed the Fair, son o f Philip the bloody revenge o f the Sicilian Vespers;
Third, and son-in-law o f Henry o f which in turn so roused the wrath of
Navarre ( 1 2 8 5 - 1 3 1 4 ) . Charles, that he swore that, “ if he
1 1 2 . Peter the Third o f Aragon could live a thousand years, he would
( 1 2 7 6 - 1 2 8 5 ) , the enemy o f Charles go on razing the cities, burning the
of Anjou and competitor with him for lands, torturing the rebellious slaves.
the kingdom of Sicily. He is counted He would leave Sicily a blasted, bar
among the Troubadours, and when ren, uninhabited rock, as a warning to
Philip the Bold invaded his kingdom, the present age, an example to the
Peter launched a song against him, future.”
complaining that the “ flower-de-luce 116 . Philip the Third o f Aragon
kept him sorrowing in his house,” and left four sons, Alfonso, James, Freder
calling on the Gascons for aid. ick, and Peter. Whether the strip
1 1 3 . Charles of Anjou, king o f Si ling here spoken of is Alonzo or Peter
cily and Naples (12 6 5 ). Villani, V II. does not appear.
1, thus describes him : “ T his Charles 12 1 . Chaucer, W if of Bathes Tale: —
was wise and prudent, and valiant in
“ W e i can the wise poet o f Florence,
arms, and rough, and much feared and T h a t highte D ant, speken o f this sentence :
redoubted by all the kings o f the world; L o , in swiche maner rime is Dantes tale.
magnanimous and o f a high sp irit; F u l selde up riseth by his branches smale
steadfast in carrying on every great Prowesse o f m an, for God o f his goodnesse
W o l that we claime o f him our gen tillesse:
enterprise, firm in every adversity, and
For o f our elders may we nothing claime
true to every promise, speaking little
But temporel thing, that man may hurt and
and doing much. He laughed but m aim e.”
little ; was chaste as a monk, catholic,
harsh in judgment, and of a fierce coun 124. It must be remembered that
tenance ; large and muscular in person, these two who are singing together
with an olive complexion and a large in this Valley o f Princes were deadly
nose, and looked the king more than foes on earth ; and one had challenged
any other lord. He sat up late at night, the other to determine their quarrel by
and slept little, and was in the habit single combat.
o f saying that a great deal o f time was “ T h e wager o f battle between the
lost in sleeping. He was generous to kings,” says Milman, Latin Christianity
Purgatorio v il 257
V I. 168, “ which maintained its solemn France, all died in the same year,
dignity up almost to the appointed 1285.
time, ended in a pitiful comedy, in 126. These kingdoms being badly
which Charles o f Anjou had the ig governed by his son and succes
nominy o f practising base and disloyal sor, Charles the Second, called the
designs against his adversary ; Peter, Lame.
that of eluding the contest by craft, 128. Daughters of Raymond Beren-
justifiable only as his mistrust o f his ger the Fifth, Count of Provence ; the
adversary was well or ill grounded, first married to St. Louis o f France,
but much too cunning for a frank and and the second to his brother, Charles
generous knight. He had embarked of Anjou.
with his knights for the South of 129. Constance, daughter o f Man
France ; he was cast back by tempests fredi of Apulia, and wife o f Peter the
on the shores o f Spain. He set off Third o f Aragon.
with some o f his armed companions, 1 3 1 . Henry the Third ( 1 2 1 6 - 1 2 7 2 ) ,
crossed the Pyrenees undiscovered, ap o f whom Hume says : “ This prince
peared before the gates o f Bordeaux, was noted for his piety and devotion,
and summoned the English Seneschal. and his regular attendance on public
T o him he proclaimed himself to be worship ; and a saying of his on that
the king o f Aragon, demanded to see head is much celebrated by ancient
the lists, rode down them in slov\T writers. He was engaged in a dispute
state, obtained an attestation that he with Louis the Ninth o f France, con
had made his appearance within the cerning the preference between ser
covenanted time, and affixed his solemn mons and masses ; he maintained the
protest against the palpable premedi superiority o f the latter, and affirmed
tated treachery of his rival, which made that he would rather have one hour’ s
it unsafe for him to remain longer at conversation with a friend, than hear
Bordeaux. Charles, on his part, was twenty of the most elaborate discourses
furious that Peter had thus broken pronounced in his praise.”
through the spider’s web o f his policy. Dickens, Child's History of England,
He was in Bordeaux when Peter ap Ch. X V ., says o f him : “ He was as
peared under the walls, and had chal much o f a king in death as he had ever
lenged him in vain. Charles presented been in life. He was the mere pale
himself in full armor on the appointed shadow o f a king at all times.”
day, summoned Peter to appear, pro His “ better issue ” was Edward the
claimed him a recreant and a dastardly First, called, on account o f his amend
craven, unworthy o f the name o f ment and establishment o f the laws,
knight.” the English Justinian, and less respect
Charles o f Anjou, Peter the Third fully Longshanks, on account o f the
o f Aragon, and Philip the Third o f length o f his legs. " His legs had
v o l . 11. 33
25 § Notes
need to be strong,” says the authority quence between Alessandria and the
just quoted, “ however long, and this Marquis’s provinces o f Monferrato and
they were ; for they had to support Canavese.
him through many difficulties on the 13 5 . T h e city o f Alessandria is in
fiery sands of Syria, where his small Piedmont, between the Tanaro and the
force of soldiers fainted, died, deserted, Bormida, and not far from their junc
and seemed to melt away. But his tion. It was built by the Lombard
prowess made light of it, and he said, League, to protect the country against
‘ I will go on, if I go on with no other the Emperor Frederick, and named in
follower than my groom.’ ” honor o f Pope Alexander the Third, a
134. T h e Marquis o f Monferrato, protector o f the Guelphs. It is said
a Ghibelline, was taken prisoner by to have been built in a single year, and
the people of Alessandria in Piedmont, was called in derision, by the Ghibel-
in 1 290, and, being shut up in a wooden lines, Allessandria della Paglia (o f the
cage, was exhibited to the public like Straw) ; either from the straw used in
a wild beast. This he endured for the bricks, or more probably from the
eighteen months, till death released supposed insecurity of a city built in
him. A bloody war was the conse so short a space of time.
CAN TO V III.
1. Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica, 4. T h e word “ pilgrim ” is here

I I I. 3 0 2 : - used by Dante in a general sense,
“ It was the hcur when every traveller meaning any traveller.
A n d every watchm an at the fate c f towns 6. G ray, Elegy : —
Begins to lcng fcr sleep, and drowsiness
“ T h e curfew tolls the k n ell o f parting day.”
Is falling even on the mother’s eyes
W hose child is dead.’ *
13 . An evening hymn of the Church,
Also Byron, Don Juan , I I I. 108 : — sung at Complines, or the latest ser
“ Soft hcur ! which wakes the wish and melts vice of the day : —
the heart
O f these who sail the seas, on the first day “ T c lucis ante term inum ,
W h e n they frcm their sweet friends arc torn R erum creator, poscimus
ap art; U t pro tua dem entia
Or fills with love the pilgrim on his w ay, Sis presul ad custodiam.
A s the fir bell o f vesper makes him start,
Seem ing to weep the dying day’ s decay. “ Procul recedant somnia
Is this a fancy w hich our rearon scorns ? E t noxium phantasmata,
Ah ! surely nothing dies but something Hostemque nostrum comprime,
m o u rn s! ” N e polluantur corpora.
Purgatorio vin. 259
“ Presta, Pater piissime, applied. In the old specimens of
Patrique compar U nice, stained glass we find these significations
Cum Spiritu Paraclito
scrupulously attended to. Thus : —
R egnans per omne saeculum.”
“ W h i t e , represented by the dia
This hymn would seem to have no mond or silver, was the emblem of light,
great applicability to disembodied spir religious purity, innocence, virginity,
its ; and perhaps may have the same faith, joy, and life. Our Saviour wears
reference as the last petition in the white after his resurrection. In the
Lord’s Prayer, Canto X I. 19 : — judge it indicated integrity ; in the
“ Our virtue, which is easily o’ercome,
rich man, humility ; in the woman,
Put not to proof w ith the old Adversary, chastity. It was the color consecrated
But thou from him who spurs it so, deliver. to the Virgin, who, however, never
T h is last petition verily, dear Lord, wears white except in pictures of the
N o t for ourselves is made, who need it not, Assumption.
But for their sake who have remaiiêd be-:
“ R e d , the ruby, signified fire, divine
hind us.”
love, the H oly Spirit, heat, or the
2 1. Dante thinks the meaning of creative power, and royalty. White
what follows easy to penetrate. T h e and red roses expressed love and inno
commentators have found it uncom cence, or love and wisdom, as in the
monly difficult. garland with which the angel crowns
26. Genesis iii. 24: “ And he placed St. Cecilia. In a bad sense, red signi
at the east o f the garden o f Eden fied blood, war, hatred, and punish
cherubims, and a flaming sword which ment. Red and black combined were
turned every way, to keep the way of the colors o f purgatory and the Devil.
the tree of life.” " B l u e , or the sapphire, expressed
27. Justice tempered with mercy, heaven, the firmament, truth, con
say the commentators. stancy, fidelity. Christ and the Virgin
28. Green, the color o f hope, which wear the red tunic and the blue mantle,
is the distinguishing virtue of Purgatory. as signifying heavenly love and heavenly
On the symbolism o f colors, Mrs. Jame truth.*’ The same colors were given
son, Sacred and Legendary A rty Introd to St. John the Evangelist, with this
says : — difference, — that he wore the blue
“ In very early Art we find colors tunic and the red mantle ; in later pic
used in a symbolical or mystic sense, tures the colors are sometimes red and
and, until the ancient principles and green.
traditions were wholly worn out of “ Y e l l o w , or gold, was the symbol
memory or set aside by the later paint o f the sun ; o f the goodness of God ;
ers, certain colors were appropriated
to certain subjects and personages, and * In the Spanish schools the color o f our
could not arbitrarily be applied or mis Saviour’s mantle is generally a deep rich violet.
260 Notes
initiation, or marriage ; faith, or fruit and mourning or humiliation; hence
fulness. St. Joseph, the husband o f the adopted by the Dominicans and the
Virgin, wears yellow. In pictures of Carmelites.,,
the Apostles, St. Peter wears a yellow 50. It was not so dark that on a
mantle over a blue tunic. In a bad near approach he could not distinguish
sense, yellow signifies inconstancy, objects indistinctly visible at a greater
jealousy, deceit; in this sense it is distance.
given to the traitor Judas, who is gen 53. Nino de* Visconti o f Pisa,
erally habited in dirty yellow. nephew o f Count Ugolino, and Judge
“ G r e e n , the emerald, is the color of Gallura in Sardinia. Dante had
o f spring ; of hope, particularly hope known him at the siege o f Caprona, in
in immortality ; and of victory, as the 1290, where he saw the frightened
color of the palm and the laurel. garrison march out under safeguard.
“ V i o l e t , the amethyst, signified love Inf. X X I. 95. It was this “ gentle
and truth ; or, passion and suffering. Judge,” who hanged Friar Gomita for
Hence it is the color often worn by peculation. In f X X II. 82.
the martyrs. In some instances our 7 1. His daughter, still young and
Saviour, after his resurrection, is habited innocent.
in a violet, instead o f a blue mantle. 75. His widow married Galeazzo
T h e Virgin also wears violet after the de’ Visconti of Milan, “ and much dis
crucifixion. Mary Magdalene, who comfort did this woman suffer with her
as patron saint wears the red robe, as husband,” says the Ottimo, “ §0 that
penitent wears violet and blue, the many a time she wished herself a
colors o f sorrow and o f constancy. In widow.”
the devotional representation o f her by 79. Hamlet, IV . 5 : —
Timoteo della Vite, she wears red and “ H is obscure fu n era l,
green, the colors of love and hope. N o tro p h y, sw o rd , or h a tch m e n t o’ er his g r a v e .”
“ G r a y , the color of ashes, signified 80. T h e Visconti o f Milan had for

mourning, humility, and innocence ac their coat o f arms a viper ; and being
cused ; hence adopted as the dress of on the banner, it led the Milanese to
the Franciscans (the Gray Friars); but battle.
it has since been changed for a dark 8 1. T h e arms o f Gallura. “ A c
rusty -brown. cording to Fara, a writer of the six
“ B l a c k expressed the earth, dark teenth century,” says Valery, Voyage
ness, mourning, wickedness, negation, en Corse et en Sardaigne, II. 37, “ the
death ; and was appropriate to the elegant but somewhat chimerical his
Prince o f Darkness. In some old il torian o f Sardinia, Gallura is a Gallic
luminated M SS., Jesus, in the Tempta colony ; its arms are a cock; and one
tion, wears a black robe. White and might find some analogy between the
black together signified purity o f life, natural vivacity o f its inhabitants and
Purgatorio vui. 261
that o f the French.” Nino thinks it V e e r s o ft, as oft so steers, and sh ifts her s a ilj
would look better on a tombstone than S o varied h e, and o f his tortuous train
a viper. C u rle d m an y a w a n to n w reath in sig h t o f E v e .
89. These three stars are the Alpha ......................................... O ft he bow ed

H is tu rret crest, and sle e k en a m e lled n e c k ,
o f Euridanus, o f the Ship, and o f the F a w n i n g ; and lic k e d the ground w h ereo n she
Golden Fish ; allegorically, i f any al t ro d .”
legory be wanted, the three Theologir 114 . In the original al sommo smalto,
cal Virtues, Faith, Hope, and Charity. to the highest enamel; referring either
T h e four morning stars, the Cardinal to the Terrestrial Paradise, enamelled
Virtues o f active life, are already set; with flowers, or to the highest heaven
these announce the evening and the life enamelled with stars. T he azure-stone,
contemplative. perre d'azurx or lapis lazuli, is perhaps
100. Compare this with Milton’s a fair equivalent for the smalto, particu
description o f the serpent, Parad. Lost, larly if the reference be to the sky.
IX . 434, 496 : — 116 . T h e valley in Lunigiana, through
u N earer he drew, and m any a w a lk traversed which runs the Magra, dividing the
O f stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm ; Genoese and Tuscan territories. Par.
T h e n voluble and bold, now hid, now seen, IX . 8 9 : —
A m o n g thick-w o ven arborets, and flowers
“ T h e M agra, that w ith journey short
Imbordered on each bank.
D oth from the Tuscan part the Genoese.”
N o t w ith indented w ave, 118 . Currado or Conrad Malaspina,

Prone on the ground, as s in ce ; but on his father o f Marcello Malaspina, who six
rear, years later sheltered Dante in his exile,
Circular base o f rising folds, that towered
as foreshadowed in line 136. It was
Fold above fold, a surging maze ! his head
from the convent o f the Corvo, over
Crested aloft, and carbuncle his e yes;
W ith burnished neck o f verdant gold, erect
looking the G u lf o f Spezia, in Lunigi
A m id st his circling spires, that on the grass ana, that Frate Ilario wrote the letter
Floated redundant: pleasing was his shape describing Dante’s appearance in the
A n d lovely ; never since o f serpent-kind cloister. See Illustrations at the end
Lovelier, not those that in Illyria changed
o f Vol. I.
Hermione and Cadmus, or the god
1 3 1 . Pope Boniface the Eighth.
In Epidaurus ; nor to w hich transformed
A m m onian Jo v e or Capitoline was seen, —
134 . Before the sun shall be seven
H e w ith Olym pias, this w ith her w ho bore times in Aries, or before seven years
Scipio, the height o f R om e. W ith tract are passed.
oblique 13 7 . Ecclesiastes, xii. 1 1 : “ T h e words
At first, as one w ho sought access, but of the wise are as goads, and as nails
feared
fastened by the masters o f assemblies.”
T o interrupt, sidelong he w orks his w ay.
A s when a ship, by skilful steersman wrought
139 . With this canto ends the first
N ig h river’s m outh or foreland, where the day in Purgatory, as indicated by the
wind description o f evening at the beginning,
262 Notes
and the rising o f the stars' in line 89. the reader will not fail to notice, by
With it closes also the first subdivision the elaborate introduction o f the next
o f this part of the poem, indicated, as canto.
C A N T O IX .
1. “ Dante begins this canto,” says o f their serrated tongues, saluted the
Benvenuto da Imola, “ by saying a approach o f rosy Aurora, when, quirting
thing that was never said or imagined the soft couch o f her jealous husband,
by any other poet, which is, that the she disclosed herself to mortals through
aurora o f the moon is the concubine the gates and balconies o f the Manche
o f Tithonus. Some maintain that he gan horizon.”
means the aurora o f the sun ; but this 5. As the sun was in Aries, and it
cannot be, if we closely examine the was now the fourth day after the full
text.” T his point is elaborately dis moon, the Scorpion would be rising in
cussed by the commentators. I agree the dawn which precedes the moon.
with those who interpret the passage 8. This indicates the time to be
as referring to a lunar aurora. It is two hours and a half after sunset, or
still evening; and the hour is indicated half past eight o’ clock. T w o hours
a few lines lower down. o f the ascending night are passed, and
T o Tithonus was given the gift o f the third is half over.
immortality, but not of perpetual youth. T his circumstantial way o f measur
As Tennyson makes him say : ing the flight o f time is Homeric.
te T h e woods decay, the woods decay and fall, Iliad, X, 250: “ Let us be going, then,
T h e vapors weep their burthen to the ground, for the night declines fast, and the
M a n comes and tills the field and lies beneath,
morning is near. And the stars have
A n d after many a summer dies the swan.
already far advanced, and the greater
M e only cruel immortality
Consumes : I wither slow ly in thine a rm s ,'
portion o f the night, by two parts, has
H ere at the quiet limit o f the world, gone by, but the third portion still re
A white-haired shadow roaming like a dream mains.”
T h e ever silent spaces o f the East, 10. Namely, his body.
Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls o f morn.” 12 . V irgil, Sordello, Dante, Nino,
2. Don Quixote, I. 2 : “ Scarcely and Conrad. And here Dante falls
had ruddy Phcebus spread the golden upon the grass and sleeps till dawn.
tresses o f his beauteous hair over the There is a long pause o f rest and sleep
face of the wide and spacious earth, between this line and the next, which
and scarcely had the painted little birds, makes the whole passage doubly beauti
with the sweet and mellifluous harmony ful. T h e narrative recommences like
Purgatorio ix. 263
the twitter o f early birds just beginning 22. Mount Ida.
to stir in the woods. 30. T o the region o f fire. Brunetto
14. For the tragic story o f Tereus, Latini, Tresory Ch. C X III., says: “ A f
changed to a lapwing, Philomela to a ter the environment o f the air is seated
nightingale, and Procne to a swallow, the fourth element; this is an orb o f
see Ovid, Metarnorph., V I. : — fire, which extends to the moon and
“ N o w , with drawn sabre and impetuous speed,
surrounds this atmosphere in which we
In close pursuit he drives Pandion’s breed ; are. And know that above the fire is
W hose nimble feet spring w ith so swift a in the first place the moon, and the
force other stars, which are all o f the nature
Across the fields, they seem to w ing their
o f fire.”
course.
37. T o prevent Achilles from going
A n d now, on real wings themselves they raise,
A n d steer their airy flight by different w ays;
to the siege o f T ro y , his mother Thetis
One to the woodland’s shady covert hies, took him from Chiron, the Centaur, and
Around the sm oky roof the other flies ; concealed him in female attire in the
W hose feathers yet the marks o f murder court o f Lycomedes, king o f Scyros.
stain,
53. As Richter says: “ T he hour
W here stamped upon her breast the crimson
when sleep is nigh unto the soul.”
spots remain.
Tereus, through grief and haste to be revenged,
55. Lucia, the Enlightening Grace
Shares the like fate, and to a bird is changed j o f heaven. I n f II. 97.
Fixed on his head the crested plumes appear,^ 58. Nino and Conrad.
Lo n g is his beak, and sharpened like a spear; 63. Ovid uses a like expression: —
T h u s armed, his looks his inward mind display,
“ Sleep and the god together went aw ay.”
A n d , to a lapwing turned, he fans his w ay.”
94. T h e first stair is Confession ;
See also Gower, Confes. A m ant.,Y . •
the second, Contrition ; and the third,
“ A n d o f her suster Progne I finde
Penance.
H o w she was torned out o f kinde
97. Purple and black. See In f V .
Into a swalwe swift o f w ing,
W h ich eke in winter lith swouning
Note 89.
Th ere as she may no thing be sene, 10 5. T he gate o f Paradise is thus
A n d whan the world is woxe grene described by Milton, Parad. Lost, I I I .
A n d comen is the somer tide, 501 : —
T h e n fleeth she forth and ginneth to chide “ Far distant he descries,
A n d chitereth out in her langage Ascending by degrees magnificent
W h a t falshede is in mariage, U p to the w all o f heaven, a structure high 5
A n d telleth in a maner speche A t top whereof, but far more rich, appeared
O f Tereus the spouse breche.” T h e w ork as o f a kin gly palace gate,
W ith frontispiece o f diamond and gold
18. Pope, Temple of Fame, 7 : —
Im bellished; thick with sparkling orient gems
“ W h a t time the morn mysterious visions brings, T h e portal shone, inimitable on earth
W h ile purer slumbers spread their golden B y model or by shading pencil drawn.
w in gs.” T h e stairs where such as whereon Jacob saw
264 Notes
An gels ascending and descending, bands 138 . When Csesar robbed the R o
O f guardians bright, when he from Esau fled
man treasury on the Tarpeian hill, the
T o Padan-Aram in the field o f L u z ,
tribune Metellus strove to defend i t ;
Dreaming by night under the open sk y,
And w aking cried, i T h is is the gate i>f
but Cassar, drawing his sword, said to
heaven.’ him, “ It is easier to do this than to
Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood say it.”
Th ere always, but drawn up to heaven some Lucan, Phars., II I. : —
times
“ T h e tribune w ith unwilling steps w ithdrew,
V ie w le s s ; and underneath a bright sea flowed
W h ile impious hands the rude assault renew :
O f jasper, or o f liquid pearl, whereon
T h e brazen gates w ith thundering strokes re
W h o after came from earth sailing arrived,
sound,
W afted by angels ; or flew o’er the lake,
A n d the Tarpeian mountain rings around.
R apt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds.”
A t length the sacred storehouse, open laid,
1 1 2 . T h e Seven Sins> which are T h e hoarded wealth o f ages past displayed ;
punished in the seven circles of Purga T h ere m ight be seen the sums proud Carthage
tory ; Pride, Envy, Anger, Sloth* Ava sent,
rice, Gluttony, Lust. H e r long impending ruin to prevent.

T h e re heaped the Macedonian treasures shone,
118 . The golden key is the authority
W h a t great Flam inius and yE m ilius won
o f the confessor; the silver, his knowl
From vanquished Philip and his hapless son.
edge. T h ere lay, w hat flying Pyrrhus lost, the gold
13 2 . Luke ix. 6 2 : “ No man hav Scorned by the patriot’s honesty o f old :
ing put his hand to the plough, and W h a te ’er our parsimonious sires could save,
looking back, is fit for the kingdom of W h a t tributary gifts rich Syria g a v e ;
T h e hundred Cretan cities’ ample sp o il;
G od.” And xvii. 3 2 : “ Remember
W h a t Cato gathered from the Cyprian isle.
Lot’s w ife.”
R iches o f captive kings by Pompey borne,
Boethius, Cons. Pbil.t Lib. II I. Met. In happier days, his triumph to adorn,
12 : — From utmost India and the rising m o rn ;
“ Heu ! noctis prope terminos W ea lth infinite, in one rapacious day,
Orpheus Eurydicen suam Became the needy soldiers’ lawless prey :
V id it, perdidit, occidit. A n d wretched R om e, by robbery laid low,
V o s haec fabula respicit, W as poorer than the bankrupt Caesar now .”
Quicumque in superum diem
M entem ducere quaeritis, 140. T h e hymn o f St. Ambrose,
N am qui Tartareum in specus universally known in the churches as
V ictus lumina flexerit, the Te Deum.
Quicquid praecipuum trahit, 144. Thomson, Hymn : —
Perdit, dum videt inferos.”
“ In swarming cities vast
136. Milton, Parad. Lost, II. 879: — Assem bled men to the deep organ join
“ On a sudden open fly T h e long-resounding voice, oft breaking clear
W ith impetuous recoil and jarring sound A t solemn pauses through the swelling bass,
T h e infernal doors, and on their hinges grate A n d , as each mingling flame increases each,
H arsh thunder.” In one united ardor rise to heaven.”
Purgatorio x. 265
CANTO X.
I I. In this canto is described the the one, indeed, there were marriages
jy First Circle o f Purgatory, where the sin and feasts ; arid they were conducting
f Pride is punished. the brides from their chambers through
"T4. It being now Easter Monday, the city with brilliant torches, and
and the fourth day after the full moon, many a bridal song was raised. T h e
the hour here indicated would be four youthful dancers were wheeling round,
hours after sunrise* And as the sun and among them pipes and lyres uttered
was more than two hours high when a sound; and the women standing, each
Dante found himself at the gate o f at her portals, admired. And people
Purgatory (Canto IX . 4.4), he was an were crowded together in an assembly,
hour and a half in this needle’s eye. and there a contest had arisen; for two
30. Which was so steep as to allow men contended for the ransom-money
o f no ascent; dritto di salita being used o f a slain man : the one affirmed that
in the sense o f right o f way. he had paid all, appealing to the peo
32. Polycletus, the celebrated G re ple ; but the other denied, averring
cian sculptor, among whose Works one, that he had received naught: and both
representing the body-guard of the king wished to find an end o f the dispute
o f Persia, acquired Such fame for ex before a judge. T h e people were
cellence as to be called “ the Rule.” applauding both, supporters o f either
3 3. With this description o f the party, and the heralds were keeping
sculptures on the wall o f Purgatory back the people ; but the elders sat
compare that of the shield which Vul upon polished stones, in a sacred circle,
can made for Achilles, Iliad, X V I II . ahd the pleaders held in their hands the
484, Buckley’s T r . : — staves o f the clear-voiced heralds; with
“ On it he wrought the earth, and these then they arose, and alternately
the heaven, and the sea, the unwearied pleaded their cause. Moreover, in
sun, and the full moon. On it also he the midst lay two talents o f gold, to
represented all the constellations with give to him who should best establish
which the heaven is crowned, the Plei his claim among them. But round the
ades, the Hyades, and the strength o f other city sat two armies of people glit
Orion, and the Bear, which they also tering in arms ; and one o f two plans
call by the appellation o f the Wain, was agreeable to them, either to waste
which there revolves, and watches it, or to divide all things into two parts,
Orion ; but it alone is free from the — the wealth, whatever the pleasant
baths of the ocean. city contained within it. T h ey, how
“ In it likewise he wrought two fair ever, had not yet complied, but were
cities o f articulate speaking men. In secretly arming themselves for an am
v o l . 11. 34
266 Notes
buscade. Meanwhile, their beloved wounded, but a third, slain, she drew
wives and young children kept watch, by the feet through the battle; and had
standing above, and among them the the garment around her shoulders crim
men whom old age possessed. But soned with the gore of men. But they
they (the younger men) advanced; but turned about, like living mortals, and
Mars was their leader, and Pallas M i fought, and drew away the slaughtered
nerva, both golden, and clad in golden bodies of each other.
dresses, beautiful and large, along with “ On it he also placed a soft fallow
their armor, radiant all round, and in field, rich glebe, wide, thrice-ploughed;
deed like gods ; but the people were and in it many ploughmen drove hither
of humbler size. But when they now and thither, turning round their teams.
had reached a place where it appeared But when, returning, they reached the
fit to lay an ambuscade, by a river, end of the field, then a man, advancing,
where there was a watering-place for gave into their hands a cup o f very
all sorts of cattle, there then they set sweet wine ; but they turned them
tled, clad in shining steel. There, selves in series, eager to reach the other
apart from the people, sat two spies, end o f the deep fallow. But it was
watching when they might perceive all black behind, similar to ploughed
the sheep and crooked-horned oxen. land, which indeed was a marvel be
These, however, soon advanced, and yond all others.
two shepherds accompanied them, “ On it likewise he placed a field
amusing themselves with their pipes, o f deep corn, where reapers were cut
for they had not yet perceived the ting, having sharp sickles in their hands.
stratagem. Then they, discerning Some handfuls fell one after the other
them, ran in upon them, and immedi upon the ground along the furrow, and
ately slaughtered on all sides the herds the binders of sheaves tied others with
o f oxen, and the beautiful flocks of bands. Three binders followed the
snow-white sheep; and slew the shep reapers, while behind them boys gath
herds besides. But they, when they ering the handfuls, and bearing them in
heard the great tumult among the oxen, their arms, continually supplied them;
previously sitting in front o f the as and among them the master stood by
sembly, mounting their nimble-footed the swath in silence, holding a sceptre,
steeds, pursued ; and soon came up delighted in heart. But apart, beneath
with them. Then, having marshalled an oak, servants were preparing a ban
themselves, they fought a battle on the quet, and, sacrificing a huge ox, they
banks of the river, and wounded one ministered ; while women sprinkled
another with their brazen spears. much white barley on the meat, as a
Among them mingled Discord and T u supper for the reapers.
mult, and destructive Fate, holding one “ On it likewise he placed a vine
alive recently wounded, another un yard, heavily laden with grapes, beauti-
Purgatorio x. 267
fill, golden ; but the clusters through “ Illustrious Vulcan likewise adorned
out were black ; and it was supported it with a dance, like unto that which,
throughout by silver poles. Round it in wide Gnossus, Daedalus contrived
he drew an azure trench, and about it for fair-haired Ariadne. There danced
a hedge o f tin; but there was only youths and alluring virgins, holding
one path to it, by which the gatherers each other’s hands at the wrist. These
went when they collected the vintage. wore fine linen robes, but those were
Young virgins and youths, o f tender dressed in well-woven tunics, shining
minds, bore the luscious fruit in woven as with o il; these also had beautiful
baskets, in the midst o f whom a boy garlands, and those wore golden swords,
played sweetly on a shrill harp ; and hanging from silver belts. Sometimes,
with tender voice s^ng gracefully to with skilful feet, they nimbly bounded
the ch ord; while they, beating the round ; as when a potter, sitting, shall
ground in unison with dancing and make trial o f a wheel fitted to his
shouts, followed, skipping with their hands, whether it will run : and at
feet. other times again they ran back to
“ In it he also wrought a herd o f their places through one another. But
oxen with horns erect. But the kine a great crowd surrounded the pleasing
were made o f gold and o f tin, and dance, amusing themselves; and among
rushed out with a lowing from the them two tumblers, beginning their
stall to the pasture, beside a murmuring songs, spun round through the midst.
Stream, along the breeze-waving reeds. “ But in it he also formed the vast
Four golden herdsmen accompanied the strength of the river Oceanus, near the
oxen, and nine dogs, swift of foot, fol last border o f the well-formed shield.”
lowed. But two terrible lions detained See also V irgil’s description o f the
the bull, roaring among the foremost Shield o f Êneas, JEneid, V I I I ., and
oxen, and he was dragged away, loudly o f the representations on the walls o f the
bellowing, and the dogs and youths Temple o f Juno at Carthage, JEneid, I.
followed for a rescue. T h ey indeed, Also the description o f the Temple o f
having torn off the skin of the great Mars, in Statius, Tbebaid,Vll., and that
ox, lapped up his entrails and black o f the tomb o f the Persian queen in the
blood; and the shepherds vainly press Alexandras o f Philip Gualtier, noticed
ed upon them, urging on their fleet in Mr. Sumner’s article, Atlantic Month
dogs. These however refused to bite ly, X V I. 754. And finally “ the noble
the lions, but, standing very near, kerving and the portreitures ” o f the
barked, and shunned them. Temples o f Venus, Mars, and Diana,
“ On it illustrious Vulcan also form in Chaucer’s Knightes Tale : —
ed a pasture in a beautiful grove full of
“ W h y shulde I not as wel eke tell you all
white sheep, and folds, and covered T h e portreiture that was upon the wall
huts and cottages. W ith in the temple o f m ighty M ars the R ede ?
268 Notes
shook it. And the anger o f the Lord
f( First on the w all was peinted a forest,
was kindled against Uzzah, and God
In w hich ther wonneth neyther man ne b e st;
smote him there for his erro r; and
W ith knotty, knarry, barrein trees old,
O f stubbes sharpe, and hidous to behold ;
there he died by the ark of G od.”
In which ther ran a romble and a 6wough, 65. 2 Samuel vi. 1 4 : “ And David
A s though a storme shuld bresten every bough. danced before the Lord with all his
A n d , dounward from an hill, under a bent, m ight; and David was girded with a
T h e r stood the temple o f Mars Arm ipotent,
linen ephod.”
W ro u gh t all o f burned stele; o f which th’ entree
68. 2 Samuel vi. 1 6 : “ And as the
W as longe and streite, and gastly for to see ;
A n d therout came a rage and swiche a vise, ark of the Lord came into the city of
T h a t it made all the gates for to rise. David, Michal, Saul’s daughter, looked
T h e northern light in at the dore shone ; through a window and saw King David
For window, on the w all, ne was ther none, leaping and dancing before the Lord ;
T h u rg h w hich men mighten any light discerne.
and she despised him in her heart.”
T h e dore was all o f athamant eterne ;
73. This story o f Trajan is told in
Y clen ch ed , overthwart and endelong,
W ith yren tough. A n d , for to make it strong,
nearly the same words, though in prose,
Every piler the temple to sustene in the Fiore di Filosofy a work attributed
W as tonne-gret, o f yren bright and shene. to Brunetto Latini. See Nannucci,
“ T h e r saw I, first, the derke imagining Manuale della Letteratura del Primo
O f felonie, and alle the compassing ;
Secolo, III. 29 1. It may be found also
T h e cruel ire, red as any glede ;
in the Legenda Aureay in the Cento No -
T h e pikepurse; and eke the pale drede ;
T h e smiler, with the k n if under the cloke ; velle Anticbe, Nov. 67, and in the Life
T h e shepen brenning, with the blake smoke ; of St. Gregory, by Paulus Diaconus.
T h e treson o f the mordring in the bedde ; As told by Ser Brunetto the story
T h e open werre, with woundes all bebledde; runs thus: “ Trajan was a very just
Conteke, with blody k n if and sharp menace :
Emperor, and one day, having mounted
A l l full o f chirking was that sory place.
his horse to go into battle with his
T h e sleer o f himself, yet, saw I there,
H is herte-blood hath bathed all his here,
cavalry, a woman came and seized him
T h e naile ydriven in the shode anyght, by the foot, and, weeping bitterly, asked
T h e colde deth, w ith mouth gaping upright.” him and besought him to do justice
40. Luke i. 28 : “ And the angel upon those who had without cause put
came in unto her and said, Hail, thou to death her son, who was an upright
that art highly favored, the Lord is young man. And he answered and
with thee.” said, ‘ I will give thee satisfaction when
44. Luke i. 38 : “ And Mary said, I return.’ And she said, * And if thou
Behold the handmaid of the Lord.” dost not return ? ’ And he answered,
57. 2 Samuel vi. 6, 7 : “ And when * I f I do not return, my successor will
they came to Nachon’s threshing-floor, give thee satisfaction.’ And she said,
Uzzah put forth his hand to the ark of g How do I know that ? and suppose
God, and took hold o f it; for the oxen he do it, what is it to thee i f another
Purgatorio xi. 269
do good ? Thou art my debtor, and prayer again, and God laid upon him
according to thy deeds shalt thou be as a penance either to be two days in
judged ; it is a fraud for a man not to Purgatory, or to be always ill with
pay what he owes ; the justice of an fever and side-ache. St. Gregory as
other will not liberate thee, and it will the lesser punishment chose the fever
be well for thy successor if he shall and side-ache ( male di jianco) .”
liberate himself.’ Moved by these 75. Gregory’s “ great victory ” was
words the Emperor alighted, and did saving the soul o f Trajan by prayer.
justice, and consoled the widow, and 124. Jeremy Taylor says ; “ As the
then mounted his horse, and went to silk-worm eateth itself out of a seed to
battle, and routed his enemies. A long become a little worm ; and there feed
time afterwards St. Gregory, hearing ing on the leaves o f mulberries, it
o f this justice, saw his statue, and had grows till its coat be off, and then
him disinterred, and found that he was works itself into a house o f silk j then,
all turned to dust, except his bones and casting its pearly seeds for the young
his tongue, which was like that o f a to breed, it leaveth its silk for man,
Jiving man. And by this St. Gregory and dieth all white and winged in the
knew hjs justice, for this tongue had shape o f a flying creature ; so is the
always spoken it j 50 that then hp progress o f souls,”
wept very piteously through compas 12 7 . Gower, Confes. A m a n t 1.: —
sion, praying God that he would take ** T h e proude vice o f veingloire
this soul out of H ell, knowing that he R em em breth nought o f purgatoire.”
had been a Pagan. Then God, because And Shakespeare, King Henry the
o f these prayers, drew that soul from Eighth, I I I. 2 : —
pain, and put it into glory. And there “ I have ventured,
upon the angel spoke to St. Gregory, L ik e little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
and told him never to make such a T h is m any summers in a sga o f glory.”
C A N T O XI.
3. T h e angels, the first creation or 58. Or Italian. T h e speaker is

effects o f the divine power. Omberto Aldobrandeschi, Count o f
6. Wisdom of Solomon, vii. 2 5 : “ For Santafiore, in the Maremma o f Siena.
she is the breath o f the power of God, “ T h e Counts o f Santafiore were, and
and a pure influence flowing from the are, and almost always will be at war
glory o f the Alm ighty.” In the V ul with the Sienese,” says the Ottimo.
gate : Vapor est enim virtutis Dei. In one o f these wars Omberto was
45. See I n f X II. Note 2. slain, at the village o f Campagnatico.
270 Notes
“ T h e author means,” continues the fact in claiming a part o f the honor
same commentator, “ that he who can paid to the younger artist.
not carry his head high should bow it 94. O f Cimabue, Vasari, Lives of
down like a bulrush.” the Painters, Mrs. Foster’s T r ., I. 35,
79. Vasari, Lives of the Painters, says : —
Mrs. Foster’s T r ., I. 10 3, says : — “ The overwhelming flood o f evils
“ At this time there lived in Rome by which unhappy Italy had been sub
— to omit nothing relative to art that merged and devastated had not only
may be worthy o f commemoration — destroyed whatever could properly be
a certain Oderigi o f Agobbio, an ex called buildings, but, a still more de
cellent miniature-painter o f those times, plorable consequence, had totally ex
with whom Giotto lived on terms of terminated the artists themselves, when,
close friendship ; and who was there by the will o f God, in the year 1240,
fore invited by the Pope to illuminate Giovanni Cimabue, o f the noble family
many books for the library of the pal o f that name, was born, in the city o f
ace : but these books have in great Florence, to give the first light to the
part perished in the lapse o f time. In art o f painting. T his youth, as he
my book o f ancient drawings I have grew up, being considered by his father
some few remains from the hand of and others to give proof o f an acute
this artist, who was certainly a clever judgment and a clear understanding,
man, although much surpassed by was sent to Santa Maria Novella to
Franco of Bologna, who executed many study letters under a relation, who was
admirable works in the same manner, then master in grammar to the novices
for the same Pontiff, (and which were o f that convent. But Cimabue, instead
also destined for the library o f the o f devoting himself to letters, consumed
palace,) at the same time with those the whole day in drawing men, horses,
o f Oderigi. From the hand o f Franco houses, and other various fancies, on
also, I have designs, both in painting his books and different papers, — an
and illuminating, which may be seen occupation to which he felt himself
in my book above cited; among others impelled by nature ; and this natural
are an eagle, perfectly well done, and inclination was favored by fortune, for
a lion tearing up a tree, which is most the governors o f the city had invited
beautiful.” certain Greek painters to Florence, for
8 1. T h e art o f illuminating manu the purpose o f restoring the art o f
scripts, which was called in Paris allu- painting, which had not merely degen
minare, was in Italy called miniare. erated, but was altogether lost. These
Hence Oderigi is called by Vasari a artists, among other works, began to
miniatorey or miniature-painter. paint the Chapel o f the Gondi, situate
83. Franco Bolognese was a pupil next the principal chapel, in Santa
o f Oderigi, who perhaps alludes to this Maria Novella, the roof and walls o f
Purgatorio xi. " 271
which are now almost entirely destroyed “ T h e present eye praises the present o b je c t:
by time, — and Ciambue, often escaping T h e n marvel not, thou great and complete man,
T h a t all the Greeks begin to worship A ja x j
from the school, and having already
Since things in motion sooner catch the eye
made a commencement in the art he
T h a n what not stirs. T h e cry went once on thee j
was so fond of, would stand watching A n d still it m ight, and yet it may again,
those masters at their work, the day I f thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive,
through. Judging from these circum A n d case thy reputation in thy tent.”
stances, his father, as well as the artists Cimabue died in 1300. His epitaph is:
themselves, concluded him to be well ** Credidit ut Cimabos picturze castra tenere,
endowed for painting, and thought that Sic tenuit vivens, nunc tenet astra poli.”
much might be hoped from his future Vasari, Lives of the Painters, I. 93 : —
efforts, if he were devoted to that art. “ The gratitude which the masters
Giovanni was accordingly, to his no in painting owe to Nature, — who is
small satisfaction, placed with those ever the truest model of him who,
masters. From this time he labored possessing the power to select the
incessantly, and was so far aided by his brightest parts from her best and love^
natural powers that he soon greatly liest features, employs himself un-
surpassed his teachers both in design weariedly in the reproduction of these
and coloring. For these masters, car beauties, — this gratitude, I say, is due,
ing little for the progress of art, had in my judgment, to the Florentine
executed their works as we now see_ painter Giotto, seeing that he alone,—
them, not in the excellent manner o f although born amidst incapable artists,
the ancient Greeks, but in the rude and at a time when all good methods
modern style of their own day. Where in art had long been entombed beneath
fore, though Cimabue imitated his the ruins of war, — yet, by the favor
Greek instructors, he very much im of Heaven, he, I say, alone succeeded in
proved the art, relieving it greatly from resuscitating Art, and restoring her to
their uncouth manner, and doing honor a path that may be called the true one.
to his country by the name he ac And it was in truth a great marvel, that
quired, and by the works which he per from so rude and inapt an age Giotto
formed. O f this we have evidence in should have had strength to elicit so
Florence from the pictures which he much, that the art of design, of which
painted there; as, for example, the the men o f those days had little, if any
front of the altar o f Santa Cecilia, and knowledge, was by his means effectu
a picture o f the Virgin, in Santa Croce, ally recalled into life. T h e birth of
which was, and is still, attached to one this great man took place in the hamlet
o f the pilasters on the right o f the o f Vespignano, fourteen miles from the
choir.” city o f Florence, in the year 1276.
95. Shakespeare, T r o ila n d Cres., His father’s name was Bondone, a sim
III. 3 : - ple husbandman, who reared the child,
272 Notes
to whom he had given the name o f but became so good ah imitator o f N a
Giotto, with such decency as his con ture that he totally banished the rude
dition permitted. T he boy was early Greek manner, restoring art to the
remarked for extreme vivacity in all his better path adhered to in modern times,
childish proceedings, and for extraor and introducing the custom o f accu
dinary promptitude of intelligence ; so rately drawing living persons from na
that he became endeared, not only to ture, which had not been used for more
his father, but to all who knew him than two hundred years. Or, if some
in the village and around it. When had attempted it, as said above, it was
he was about ten years old, Bondone not by any means with the success of
gave him a few sheep to watch, and Giotto. Among the portraits by this
with these he wandered about the artist, and which still remain, is one of
vicinity, — now here and now there. his contemporary and intimate friend,
But, induced by Nature herself to the Dante Alighieri, who was no less fa
arts of design, he was perpetually draw mous as a poet than Giotto as a painter,
ing on the stones, the earth, or the and whom Messer Giovanni Boccaccio
sand, some natural object that came be has lauded so highly in the introduction
fore him, or some fantasy that presented to his story o f Messer Forese da Ra-
itself to his thoughts. It chanced one batta, and o f Giotto the painter him
day that the affairs of Cimabue took self. This portrait is in the chapel of
him from Florence to Vespignano, the palace of the Podesta in Florence ;
when he perceived the young Giotto, and in the same chapel are the portraits
who, while his sheep fed around him, ofSer Brunetto Latini, master o f Dante,
was occupied in drawing one o f them and o f Messer Corso Donati, an illus
from the life, with a stone slightly trious citizen of that day.”
pointed, upon a smooth, clean piece of Pope Benedict the Ninth, hearing
rock, — and that without any teaching o f Giotto’s fame, sent one of his cour
whatever but such as Nature herself tiers to Tuscany, to propose to him
had imparted. Halting in astonish certain paintings for the Church o f St.
ment, Cimabue inquired o f the boy if Peter. ff T h e messenger,” continues
he would accompany him to his home, Vasari, “ when on his way to visit
and the child replied, he would go Giotto, and to inquire what other good
willingly, if his father were content to masters there were in Florence, spoke
permit it. Cimabue therefore request first with many artists in Siena, — then,
ing the consent o f Bondone, the latter having received designs from them, he
granted it readily, and suffered the artist proceeded to Florence, and repaired
to conduct his son to Florence, where, one morning to the workshop where
in a short time, instructed by Cimabue Giotto was occupied with his labors.
and aided by Nature, the boy not only He declared the purpose o f the Pope,
equalled his master in his own manner, and the manner in which that Pontiff
Purgatorio xi. 273
desired to avail himself o f his assist The proverb has besides an interest
ance ; and, finally, requested to have from the circumstance which gave it
a drawing, that he might send it to his birth............
Holiness. Giotto, who was very cour “ It is said that Giotto, when he was
teous, took a sheet o f paper and a pen still a boy, and studying with Cimabue,
cil dipped in a red color, then, resting once painted a fly on the nose o f a
his elbow on his side, to form a sort figure on which Cimabue himself was
o f compass, with one turn of the hand employed, arid this so naturally, that,
he drew a circle, so perfect and exact when the master returned to continue
that it was a marvel to behold. T his his work, he believed it to be real,
done, he turned smiling to the courtier, and lifted his hand more than once to
saying, * Here is your drawing.’ ‘ Am drive it away before he should go on
I to have nothing more than this ? ’ with the painting.”
inquired the latter, conceiving himself Boccaccio, Decamerone, V I. 5, tells
to be jested with. ‘ That is enough this tale o f Giotto : —
and to spare,’ returned Giotto ; * send “ As it often happens that fortune
it with the rest, and you will see i f it hides under the meanest trades in life
will be recognized.’ T h e messenger, the greatest virtues, which has been
unable to obtain anything more, went proved by Pampinea; so are the great
away very ill satisfied, and fearing that est geniuses found frequently lodged by
he had been fooled. Nevertheless, Nature in the most deformed and mis
having despatched the other drawings shapen bodies, wThich was verified in
to the Pope, with the names of those two of our own citizens, as I am now
who had done them, he sent that of going to relate. For the one, who was
Giotto also, relating the mode in which called Forese da Rabatta, being a little
he had made his circle, without mov deformed mortal, with a flat Dutch
ing his arm and without compasses ; face, worse than any o f the family of
from which the Pope, and such o f the the Baronci, yet was he esteemed by
courtiers as were well versed in the most men a repository of the civil law.
subject, perceived how far Giotto sur And the other, whose name was G i
passed all the other painters o f his otto, had such a prodigious fancy, that
time. This incident, becoming known, there was nothing in Nature, the parent
gave rise to the proverb, still used in o f all things, but he could imitate it
relation to people o f dull wits, — Tu set with his pencil so well, and draw it so
piu tondo cbe VO di Giotto ; the signif like, as to deceive our very senses, im
icance of which consists in the double agining that to be the very thing itself
meaning o f the word * tondo,’ which which was only his painting : there
is used in the Tuscan for slowness of fore, having brought that art again to
intellect and heaviness o f comprehen light, which had lain buried for many
sion, as well as for an exact circle. ages under the errors o f such as aimed
.v o l. 11. 35
Notes
more to captivate the eyes o f the igno and which by no means improved their
rant, than to please the understandings looks, it began to clear up at last, and
o f those who were really judges, he they, who had hitherto said but little
may be deservedly called one o f the to each other, now turned to discourse
lights and glories of our city, and the together ; whilst Forese, riding along
rather as being master of his art, not and listening to Giotto, who was ex
withstanding his modesty would never cellent at telling a story, began at last
suffer himself to be so esteemed; which to view him attentively from head to
honor, though rejected by him, dis foot, and, seeing him in that wretched,
played itself in him with the greater dirty pickle, without having any regard
lustre, as it was so eagerly usurped by to himself he fell a laughing, and said,
others less knowing than himself, and ‘ Do you suppose, Giotto, if a stranger
by many also who had all their knowl were to meet with you now, who had
edge from him. But though his excel never seen you before, that he would
lence in his profession was so wonder imagine you to be the best painter in
ful, yet as to his person and aspect he the world, as you really are ?* Giotto
had no way the advantage of Signor readily replied, * Yes, sir, I believe he
Forese. T o come then to my story. might think so, if, looking at you at
These two worthies had each his coun the same time, he would ever conclude
try-seat at Mugello, and Forese being that you had learned your A , B, C.*
gone thither in the vacation time, and At this Forese was sensible o f his mis
riding upon an unsightly steed, chanced take, finding himself well paid in his
to meet there with Giotto, who was own coin.”
no better equipped than himself, when Another story of Giotto may be found
they returned together to Florence. in Sacchetti, Nov. 75.
Travelling slowly along, as they were 97. Probably Dante’s friend, Guido
able to go no faster, they were over Cavalcanti, In f X. Note 6 3 ; and Gui
taken by a great shower o f rain, and do Guinicelli, Purg. X X V I. Note 92,
forced to take shelter in a poor man’s whom he calls
house, who was well known to them “ T h e father
O f me and o f m y betters, who had ever
both ; and, as there was no appearance
Practised the sweet and gracious rhymes o f
of the weather’s clearing up, and each
lo ve .”
being desirous o f getting home that
night, they borrowed two old, rusty 99. Some commentators suppose that
cloaks, and two rusty hats, and they Dante here refers to himself. He more
proceeded on their journey. After probably is speaking only in general
they had gotten a good part of their terms, without particular reference to
way, thoroughly wet, and covered with any one.
dirt and mire, which their two shuf 10 3. Ben Jonson, Ode on the Death
fling steeds had thrown upon them, of Sir H. Morison : —
Purgatorio xi. 275
** It is not growing like a tree “ and his head was cut off,” says Vil-
In bulk, doth make men better be ; lani, V II. 3 1, “ and carried through all
O r standing long an oak, three hundred year,
the camp fixed upon a lance. And
T o fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear j
A lily o f a day
well was fulfilled the prophecy and
Is fairer far in M ay, revelation which the Devil had made
Alth o u gh it fall and die that n ig h t ; to him, by means o f necromancy, but
It was the plant and flower o f lig h t.” which he did not understand ; for the
Devil, being constrained to tell how he
105. T h e babble o f childhood;
would succeed in that battle, menda
pappo for pane, bread, and dindi for da-
ciously answered, and said : * Thou
nariy money.
shalt go forth and fight, thou shalt con
Halliwell, Die. of Arch, and Prov.
quer not die in the battle, and thy
Words: “ D i n d e r s , small coins of the
head shall be the highest in the camp.’
Lower Empire, found at W roxeter.”
And he, believing from these words
108. T he revolution o f the fixed
that he should be victorious, and be
stars, according to the Ptolemaic theo
lieving he should be lord over all, did
ry, which was also Dante’s, was thirty-
not put a stop after * not ’ (yincerai no,
six thousand years.
morraiy thou shalt conquer not, thou
109. “ Who goes so slowly,” inter
shalt die). And therefore it is great
prets the Ottimo.
folly to put faith in the D evil’s ad
1 1 2 . At the battle o f Monte Aperto.
vice. This Messer Provenzano was a
See Inf. X . Note 86.
great man in Siena after his victory at
118 . Henry Vaughan, Sacred Po
Monte Aperto, and led the whole city,
ems : —
and all the Ghibelline party o f Tus
“ O holy hope and high hum ility,
cany made him their chief, and he was
H igh as the heavens ab o ve;
These are your w alks, and you have showed very presumptuous in his w ill.”
them me Th e humility which saved him was
T o kindle m y cold love ! ” his seating himself at a little table in
And Milton, Sams. Agon.y 185 : — the public square of Siena, called the
Campo, and begging money o f all pass
“ A p t words have power to swage
ers to pay the ransom of a friend who
T h e tumors o f a troubled m ind.”
had been taken prisoner by Charles o f
12 1. A haughty and ambitious no Anjou, as here narrated by Dante.
bleman of Siena, who led the Sienese 13 8 . Spenser, Faery ûeeney V I. c. 7,
troops at the battle of Monte Aperto. st. 22 : —
Afterwards, when the Sienese were “ H e, therewith much abashed and affrayd,
routed by the Florentines at the battle Began to tremble every limbe and vaine.”
o f Colle in the Val d’ Elsa, ( Purg. 14 1 . A prophecy of Dante’s banish

X III. Note 1 1 5 ,) he was taken prisoner ment and poverty and humiliation.
276 Notes
CANTO XII.
1. In the first part o f this canto the beginning, “ Displayed ” ; and then a
same subject is continued, with exam stanza which resumes and unites them
ples of pride humbled, sculptured on all.
the pavement, upon which the Proud 27. Luke x. 1 8 : “ I beheld Satan
are doomed to gaze as they go with as lightning fall from heaven.”
their heads bent down beneath their Milton, Parad. Lost, I. 44 : —
heavy burdens, f‘ H im the A lm igh ty Power
“ So that they may behold their evil w ays.” Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sk y,
Iliad, X I II . 700 : “ And Ajax, the W ith hideous ruin and combustion, down
swift son o f Oileus, never at all stood T o bottomless perdition, there to dwell
apart from the Telamonian A ja x ; but In adamantine chains and penal fire,
W h o durst defy the Omnipotent to arm s.”
as in a fallow field two dark bullocks,
possessed of equal spirit, drag the com 28. Iliad, I. 403 : “ Him o f the
pacted plough, and much sweat breaks hundred hands, whom the gods call
out about the roots o f their horns, and Briareus, and all men ^gaeon.” Inf.
the well-polished yoke alone divides X X I. Note 98.
them, stepping along the furrow, and He was struck by the thunderbolt
the plough cuts up the bottom o f the o f Jove, or by a shaft o f Apollo, at the
soil, so they, joined together, stood battle o f Flegra. “ Ugly medley o f
very near to each other.” sacred and profane, o f revealed truth
3. In Italy a pedagogue is not only and fiction ! ” exclaims Venturi.
a teacher, but literally a leader o f chil 3 1. Thymbrapus, a surname of Apol
dren, and goes from house to house lo, from his temple in Thymbra.
collecting his little flock, which he 34. Nimrod, who “ began to be a
brings home again after school. mighty one in the earth,” and his
Galatians iii. 24: “ The law was our “ tower whose top may reach unto
schoolmaster (Paidagogos) to bring us heaven.”
unto Christ.” Genesis xi. 8 : ‘ ‘ So the Lord scat
17. Tombs under the pavement in the tered them abroad from thence upon
aisles o f churches, in contradistinction the face of all the earth ; and they left
to those built aloft against the walls. off to build the city. Therefore is the
25. T h e reader will not fail to mark name o f it called B ab el; because the
the artistic structure of the passage from Lord did there confound the language
this to the sixty-third line. First there o f all the earth, and from thence did
are four stanzas beginning, “ I saw ” ; the Lord scatter them abroad upon the
then four beginning, “ O ” ; then four face o f all the earth.”
Purgatorio xn. ;iIJ 277
\\ , (v .
See also Inf. X X X I. Note 77. delighting in arrows, because-'&he.h'ad'
36. Lombardi proposes in this line to deemed herself equal to the beautiful
read “ together” instead of “ proud” ; cheeked Latona. She said that Latona
which Biagioli thinks is “ changing a had borne only two, but she herself had
beautiful diamond for a bit o f lead; and borne many; nevertheless those, though
stupid is he who accepts the change.” but two, exterminated all these.”
37. Among the Greek epigrams is But Ovid, Metamorph., V I., says: —
one on Niobe, which runs as fol
f* Seven are m y daughters o f a form divine,
lows : — W ith seven fair sons, an indefective lin e.”
** T h is sepulchre within it has no corse j

40. i Samuel xxxi. 4, 5 : “ Then
T h is corse without here has no sepulchre,
But to itself is sepulchre and corse.” said Saul unto his armor-bearer, Draw
thy sword and thrust me through there
Ovid, Metamorpb., V I ., Croxall’s with, lest these uncircumcised come
T r. : — and thrust me through and abuse me.
“ W idowed and childless, lamentable state ! But his armor-bearer would not, for
A doleful sight, among the dead she sa te ;
he was sore afraid; therefore Saul took
Hardened w ith woes, a statue o f despair,
a sword, and fell upon it. And when
T o every breath o f wind unmoved her h a ir;
H er cheek still reddening, but its color dead,
his armor-bearer saw that Saul was
Faded her eyes, and set w ithin her head. dead, he fell likewise upon his sword,
N o more her pliant tongue its motion keeps, and died with him.”
But stands congealed within her frozen lips." 42. 2 Samuel i. 21 : “ Ye mountains
Stagnate and dull, within her purple veins, o f Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither
Its current stopped, the lifeless blood remains.
let there be rain upon you.”
H er feet their usual offices refuse,
H er arms and neck their graceful gestures
43. Arachne, daughter o f Idmon the
lose : dyer of Colophon. Ovid, Metamorpb.,
A ction ?nd life from every part are gone, V I .: —
A n d even her entrails turn to solid ston e;
“ One at the loom so excellently skilled,
Y e t still she weeps, and whirled by stormy
T h a t to the goddess she refused to yield.
winds,
L o w was her birth, and small her native town,
Borne through the air, her native country
She from her art alone obtained renown.
finds ;
T h ere fixed, she stands upon a bleaky hill,
N o r would the w o rk , when finished, please
T h ere yet her niarble cheeks eternal tears
so m uch,
distil,”
A s , w hile she wrought, to view each graceful
3 9 .. Homer, Iliad, X X IV . 604, to u ch ;

W h e th er the shapeless wool in balls she
makes them but twelve. “ Tw elve
wound,
children perished in her halls, six
O r w ith quick motion turned the spindle
daughters and six blooming sons; these round,
Apollo slew from his silver bow, en O r w ith her pencil drew the neat design,
raged with N io b e ; and those Diana, Pallas her mistress shone in every line.
278 Notes
T h is the proud maid with scornful air denies, diamonds,” betrayed to her brother
A n d even the goddess at her w ork defies; Adrastus his hiding-place, and Amphia-
Disowns her heavenly mistress every hour,
raiis, departing, charged his son AJc-
N or asks her aid, nor deprecates her power.
meeon to kill Eriphyle as soon as he
L e t us, she cries, but to a trial come,
A n d i f she conquers, let her fix my doom.” heard of his death.
Ovid, Metamorph.y IX . :
It was rather an unfair trial o f skill,
at the end of which Minerva, getting “ T h e son shall bathe his hands in parent’s
blood,
angry, struck Arachne on the forehead
A n d in one act be both unjust and good.”
with her shuttle of box-wood.
** T h e unhappy maid, impatient o f the wrong, Statius, Theb.y II. 355, Lew is’s T r . : —
D ow n from a beam her injured person h u n g;
“ Fair Eriphyle the rich gift beheld,
W h e n Pallas, pitying her wretched state,
A n d her sick breast with secret envy swelled.
A t once prevented and pronounced her fate :
N o t the late omens and the w ell-k n o w n tale
‘ L i v e ; but depend, vile w re tc h ! ’ the goddess
T o cure her vain ambition aught avail..
cried,
O had the wretch by self-experience know n
* Doomed in suspense forever to be tied ;
T h e future woes, and sorrows not her own !
T h a t all your race, to utmost date o f time,
Bu t fate decrees her wretched spouse must
M a y feel the vengeance and detest the crim e.’
bleed,
T h e n , going off, she sprinkled her w ith
And the son’s frenzy clear the mother’s
juice
deed.”
W h ic h leaves o f baneful aconite produce.
Touched w ith the poisonous drug, her flowing 53. Isaiah xxxvii. 3 8 : u And it
hair
came to pass, as he was worshipping
F ell to the ground and left her temples b are ;
in the house o f Nisroch his god, that
H e r usual features vanished from their place,
H e r body lessened all, but most her face.
Adrammelech and Sharezer, his sons,
H e r slender fingers, hanging on each side smote him with the sword ; and they
W ith many joints, the use o f legs supplied ; escaped into the land o f Armenia, and
A spider’s bag the rest, from w hich she gives Esarhaddon, his son, reigned in his
A thread, and still by constant weaving lives.”
stead.”
46. In the revolt of the Ten Tribes. 56. Herodotus, Book I. Ch, 2514,
I Kings xii. 18 : “ Then King Reho- Rawlinson’s T r. : “ Tom yris, when
boam sent Adoram, who was over the she found that Cyrus paid no heed to
tribute; and all Israel stoned him with her advice, collected all the forces o f
stones, that he died ; therefore King her kingdom, and gave him battle.
Rehoboam made speed to get him up O f all the combats in which the barba
to his chariot, to flee to Jerusalem.” rians have engaged among themselves,
50. Amphiaraiis, the soothsayer, I reckon this to have been the fiercest.
foreseeing his own death if he went . , . . T h e greater part o f the army of
to the Theban war, concealed himself, the Persians was destroyed, and Cyrus
to avoid going. His wife Eriphyle, himself fell, after reigning nine and
bribed by a “ golden necklace set with twenty years. Search was made among
Purgatorio xn. 279
the slain, by order of the queen, for imperfect chiaroscuro, and unrestrained
the body o f Cyrus, and when it was flights of fantastic imagination, sepa
found, she took a skin, and, filling it rated the artist’s work from nature by
full of human blood, she dipped the an interval which there was no attempt
head o f Cyrus in the gore, saying, as to disguise, and little to diminish. And
she thus insulted the corse, * I live yet, at this very period, the greatest
and have conquered thee in fight, and poet of that, or perhaps of any other
yet by thee am I ruined; for thou age, and the attached friend o f its
tookest my son with guile ; but thus I greatest painter, who must over and
make good my threat, and give thee thy over again have held full and free con
fill o f blood.’ O f the many different versation with him respecting the ob
accounts which are given of the death jects of his art, speaks in the following
of Cyrus, this which I have followed terms of painting, supposed to be car
appears to me most worthy o f credit.” ried to its highest perfection : —
. 59. After Judith had slain Holo- 4 Qual di pennel fu maestro, e di stile
fernes. Judith xv. 1 : “ And when Che ritraesse 1’ ombre, e i tratti, c h ’ ivi
they that were in the tents heard, they M irar farieno uno ingegno sottile.
were astonished at the thing that was M orti li morti, e i vivi parean v i v i :
done. And fear and trembling fell N on vide me’ di me, chi vide il vero,
Quant’ io calcai, fin che chinato g ivi.’
upon them, so that there was no man
that durst abide in the sight o f his- Dante has here clearly no other idea
neighbor, but, rushing out all together, o f the highest art than that it should
they fled into every way o f the plain bring back, as in a mirror or vision,
and of the hill country............. Now the aspect o f things passed or absent.
when the children o f Israel heard it, T h e scenes o f which he speaks are, on
they all fell upon them with one con the pavement, forever represented by
sent, and slew them unto Chobai.” angelic power, so that the souls which
6 1. This tercet unites the “ I saw,” traverse this circle o f the rock may see
“ O,” and “ Displayed,” o f the preced them, as if the years o f the world had
ing passage, and binds the whole as been rolled back, and they again stood
with a selvage* beside the actors in the moment o f
67. Ruskin, Mod. Painters, III. 19 : action. Nor do I think that Dante’s
“ There was probably never a period authority is absolutely necessary to
in which the influence o f art over the compel us to admit that such art as this
minds o f men seemed to depend less might indeed be the highest possible.
on its merely imitative power, than the Whatever delight we may have been
close of the thirteenth century. No in the habit o f taking in pictures, if it
painting or sculpture at that time were but truly offered to us to remove
reached more than a rude resemblance at our will the canvas from the frame,
of reality. Its despised perspective, and in lieu o f it to behold, fixed for
280 Notes
ever, the image o f some o f those mighty ence in 12 3 6 , when this bridge was
scenes which it has been our way to built. Above it on the hill stands the
make mere themes for the artist’s fancy, church of San Miniato. T his is the
— if, for instance, we could again be hill which Michel Angelo fortified in
hold the Magdalene receiving her par-* the siege o f Florence. In early times
don at Christ’s feet, or the disciples sit it was climbed by stairways.
ting with him at the table of Emmaus, 10 5. In the good old days, before
— and this not feebly nor fancifully, any one had falsified the ledger o f the
but as if some silver mirror, that had public accounts, or the standard of
leaned against the wall of the chamber, measure. In Dante’s time a certain
had been miraculously commanded to Messer Niccola tore out a leaf from the
retain forever the colors that had flashed public records, to conceal some villany
upon it for an instant,— would we not o f his ; and a certain Messer Durante,
part with our picture, Titian’s or Vero a custom-house officer, diminished the
nese’s though it might be ? ” salt-measure by one stave. T h is is
8 1. T h e sixth hour o f the day, or again alluded to, Par. X V I. 105.
noon o f the second day. n o . Matthew v. 3 : "B lessed are
102. Florence is here called ironi the poor in sp irit: for theirs is the
cally “ the well guided ” or well gov kingdom o f heaven.”
erned. Rubaconte is the name o f the [ It must be observed that all the
most easterly o f the bridges over the j Latin lines in Dante should be chanted
Arno, and takes its name from Messer ^ with an equal stress on each syllable,
Rubaconte, who was Podesta o f Flor- : in 9ider- to jnake them rhythmical.
/ C AN TO XIII.
i. T h e Second Circle, or Cornice, 14. T h e military precision with

where is punished the sin of Envy ; which Virgil faces to the right is
o f which St. Augustine says : “ Envy Homeric. Biagioli says that Dante
is the hatred of another’ s felicity ; in expresses it " after his own fashion,
respect o f superiors, because they are that is, entirely new and different from
not equal to them ; in respect of in mundane custom.”
feriors, lest they should be equal to 16. Boethius, Cons. P h il.^J. Met. 2 : —
them ; in respect o f equals, because “ H im the Sun, then, rightly call, —
they are equal to them. Through envy G od who sees and lightens a ll.”
proceeded the fall of the world, and 29. John ii. 3 : “ And when they
the death o f Christ.” wanted wine, the mother of Jesus saith
9. T h e livid color o f Envy. unto him, T h ey have no wine.”
Purgatorio x iii . 281
Examples are first given o f the virtue 110 . Gower, Confes. A m a n t I I . : —
opposite the vice here punished. These “ W h an I have sene another blithe
are but “ airy tongues that syllable men’s O f love and hadde a goodly chere,
names” ; and it must not be supposed Ethn a, w hich brenneth yere by yere,
that the persons alluded to are actually W as thanne nought so hote as I

O f thilke sore w hich prively
passing in the air.
M in e hertes thought withinne brenneth.”
33. The name o f Orestes is here
shouted on account o f the proverbial 11 4 . Convito, IV . 23 : “ Every ef
friendship between him and Pylades. fect, in so far as it is effect, receiveth
When Orestes was condemned to death, the likeness o f its cause, as far as it can
Pylades tried to take his place, exclaim retain it. Therefore, inasmuch as our
ing, “ I am Orestes.” life, as has been said, and likewise that
36. Matthew v. 4 4 : “ But I say o f every living creature here below, is
unto you, Love your enemies, bless caused by the heavens, and the heavens
them that curse you, do good to them reveal themselves to all these effects, not
that hate you, and pray for them which in complete circle, but in part thereof,
despitefully use you and persecute you.” so must its movement needs be above ;
39. See Canto X IV . 147. and as an arch retains all lives nearly,
42. T h e next stairway leading from (and, I say, retains those o f men as well
the second to the third circle. as o f other living creatures,) ascending
5 1. T h e Litany o f A ll Saints. and curving, they must be in the simili
92. Latian for Italian. tude o f an arch. Returning then to
109. A Sienese lady living in banish our life, o f which it is now question,
ment at Colle, where from a tower I say that it proceeds in the image o f
she witnessed the battle between her this arch, ascending and descending.”
townsmen and the Florentines. “ Sapia 12 2. T h e warm days near the end
hated the Sienese,” says Benvenuto, o f January are still called in Lombardy
“ and placed herself at a window not I giorni della merla, the days o f the
far from the field o f battle, waiting blackbird ; from an old legend, that
the issue with anxiety, and desiring the once in the sunny weather a blackbird
rout and ruin o f her own people. Her sang, “ I fear thee no more, O Lord*
desires being verified by the entire dis for the winter is over.”
comfiture o f the Sienese, and the death 128. Peter Pettignano, or Pettinajo,
of their captain,” (Provenzan Salvani, was a holy hermit, who saw visions
see Canto X I. Note 1 2 1 ,) “ exultant and and wrought miracles at Siena. For
almost beside herself, she lifted her bold syth, Italy, 149, describing the festival
face to heaven, and cried, ‘ N ow , O o f the Assumption in that city in 1802,
God, do with me what thou wilt, do me says : —
all the harm thou canst; now my pray “ T he Pope had reserved for this
ers are answered, and I die content.’ ” great festival the Beatification o f Pe
v o l . 11. 36
282 Notes
ter, a Sienese comb-maker, whom the many times, and bringing in inhabit
Church had neglected to canonize till ants ; it is o f little use, for the malaria
now. Poor Peter was honored with prevents the increase o f population.”
all the solemnity of music, high-mass, Talamone is the ancient Telamon,
an officiating cardinal, a florid pane where Marius landed on his return from
gyric, pictured angels bearing his tools Africa.
to heaven, and combing their own hair 15 3 . T he Diana is a subterranean
as they soared ; but he received five river, which the Sienese were in search
hundred years ago a greater honor than of for many years to supply the city
all, a verse of praise from Dante.” with water. “ T h ey never have been
138 . Dante’s besetting sin was not able to find it,” says the Ottimo, “ and
envy, but pride. yet they still hope.” In Dante’s time
144. On the other side of the world. it was evidently looked upon as an idle
15 3 . T he vanity o f the Sienese is dream. T o the credit o f the Sienese
also spoken of Inf. X X IX . 12 3. be it said, they persevered, and finally
15 2 . Talamone is a seaport in the succeeded in obtaining the water so
Maremma, “ many times abandoned by patiently sought for. T h e Pozzo Dia
its inhabitants,” says the Ottimo, “ on na, or Diana’s W ell, is still to be seen
account of the malaria. T he town is at the Convent of the Carmen.
utterly in ruins ; but as the harbor is 154 . T h e admirals who go to T a
deep, and would be of great utility if lamone to superintend the works will
the place were inhabited, the Sienese lose there more than their hope, name
have spent much money in repairing it ly, their lives.
C A N TO X IV .
1. T h e subject o f the preceding on is another tower, the tower o f Por-

canto is here continued. Compare the cianoy which is said to have been in
introductory lines with those of Can habited by Dante. From there I had
to V . still to climb the summits of the Falte-
7. These two spirits prove to be rona. I started towards midnight in
Guido del Duca and Rinieri da Cal- order to arrive before sunrise. I said
boli. to myself, How many times the poet,
17. A mountain in the Apennines, whose footprints I am following, has
northeast o f Florence, from which the wandered in these mountains ! It was
Arno takes its rise. Ampere, Voyage by these little alpine paths that he
Dantesque, p. 246, thus describes this came and went, on his way to friends
region of the Val d’ Arno. “ Farther in Romagna or friends in Urbino, his
Ptirgatorio xiv. 283
heart agitated with a hope that was wind shall waft you to the Sicilian
never to be fulfilled. I figured to my coast, and the straits o f narrow Pelorus
self Dante walking with a guide under shall open wider to the eye, veer to
the light of the stars, receiving all the land on the left, and to the sea on
the impressions produced by wild and the left, by a long circuit; fly the right
weather-beaten regions, steep roads, both sea and shore. These lands, they
deep valleys, and the accidents o f a say, once with violence and vast deso
long and difficult route, impressions lation convulsed, (such revolutions a
which he would transfer to his poem. long course of time is able to produce,)
It is enough to have read this poem to slipped asunder ; when in continuity
be certain that its author has travelled both lands were one, the sea rushed
much, has wandered much. Dante impetuously between, and by its waves
really walks with Virgil. He fatigues tore the Italian side from that of Sicily;
himself with climbing, he stops to take and with a narrow frith runs between
breath, he uses his hands when feet are the fields and cities separated by the
insufficient. He gets lost, and asks the shores. Scylla guards the right side,
way. He observes the height o f the implacable Charybdis the left, and
sun and stars. In a word, one finds the thrice with the deepest eddies of its
habits and souvenirs of the traveller in gulf swallows up the vast billows,
every verse, or rather at every step of headlong in, and again spouts them out
his poetic pilgrimage. by turns high into the air, and lashes
“ Dante has certainly climbed the the stars with the waves.”
top of the Falterona. It is upon this And Lucan, Pbars ., II. : —
summit, from which all the Valley “ A n d still we see on fair Sicilia’s sands
of the Arno- is embraced, that one W h ere part o f Apennine Pelorus stands.”
should read the singular imprecation And Shelley, Ode to Liberty : —

which the poet has uttered against this “ O ’er the lit waves every ^ o l i a n isle
whole valley. He follows the course From Pithecusa to Pelorus
o f the river, and as he advances marks H ow ls, and leaps, and glares in chorus.”
every place he comes to with fierce in 40. When Dante wrote this invec
vective. T h e farther he goes, the tive against the inhabitants of the Val
more his hate redoubles in violence d’ Arno, he probably had in mind the
and bitterness. It is a piece of topo following passage of Boethius, Cons.
graphical satire, o f which I know no Phil., IV . Pros. 3, Ridpath’s T r. : —
other example.” “ Hence it again follows, that every
32. T h e Apennines, whose long thing which strays from what is good
chain ends in Calabria, opposite Cape ceases to be ; the wicked therefore
Peloro in Sicily. JEneid, I I I . 4 10 , must cease to be what they were ; but
Davidson’s T r . : — that they were formerly men, their
“ But when, after setting out, the human shape, which still remains, tes
284 Notes
tifies. By degenerating into wicked the mischief which followed a late at
ness, then, they must cease to be men. tempt to clear some Apennines o f their
But as virtue alone can exalt a man woods. Most o f the soil, which was
above what is human, so it is on the then loosened from the roots and wash
contrary evident, that vice, as it divests ed down by the torrents, lodged in this
him of his nature, must sink him below plain ; and left immense beds o f sand
humanity; you ought therefore by and large rolling stones on the very
no means to consider him as a man spot where Dante describes
whom vice has rendered vicious. T e ll ‘ L i ruscelletti che de’ verdi colli
me, What difference is there betwixt a D el Casentin discendon giuso in A rn o ,
w o lf who lives by rapine, and a robber Facendo i lor canali e freddi e m olli.’
whom the desire of another’s wealth “ I was surprised to find so large a

stimulates to commit all manner o f town as Bibbiena in a country devoid o f
violence? Is there anything that bears manufactures, remote from public roads,
a stronger resemblance to a wrathful and even deserted by its landholders ;
dog who barks at passengers, than a for the Niccolini and Vecchietti, who
man whose dangerous tongue attacks all possess most of this district, prefer the
the world ? What is liker to a fox obscurer pleasures of Florence to their
than a cheat, who spreads his snares in palaces and pre-eminence here. T he
secret to undermine and ruin you ? to only commodity which the Casentines
a lion, than a furious man who is al trade in is pork. Signore Baglione, a
ways ready to devour you ? to a deer, gentleman at whose house I slept here,
than a coward who is afraid o f his own ascribed the superior flavor o f their
shadow ? to an ass, than a mortal who hams, which are esteemed the best in
is slow, dull, and indolent ? to the Italy and require no cooking, to the
birds of the air, than a man volatile dryness of the air, the absence of stag
and inconstant ? and what, in fine, is nant water, and the quantity o f chest
a debauchee who is immersed in the nuts given to their hogs. Bibbiena has
lowest sensual gratifications, but a hog been long renowned for its chestnuts,
who wallows in the mire ? Upon the which the peasants dry in a kiln, grind
whole, it is an unquestionable truth into a sweet flour, and then convert
that a man who forsakes virtue ceases into bread, cakes, and polejita.”
to be a man ; and, as it is impossible 46. T h e people o f Arezzo. For
that he can ascend in the scale o f syth, Italy, p. 1 2 8 : —
beings, he must o f necessity degenerate “ T he Casentines were no favorites
and sink into a beast.” with Dante, who confounds the men
43. The people o f Casentino. For with their hogs. Yet, following the
syth, Italy, p. 126 : — divine poet down the Arno, we came
“ On returning down to the Casen- to a race still more forbidding. The
tine, we could trace along the Arno Aretine peasants seem to inherit the
Purgatorio xiv. 285
coarse, surly visages o f their ancestors, Italians, nay, o f the world. Dante, be
whom he styles Bottoli. Meeting one ing once asked why he had put more
girl, who appeared more cheerful than Christians than Gentiles into H ell,
her neighbors, we asked her how far it replied, * Because I have known the
was from Arezzo, and received for an Christians better.’ ”
swer, ‘ Quanto c 'e ' 58. Messer Fulcieri da Calboli o f
“ T h e valley widened as we ad Forli, nephew o f Rinieri. He was
vanced, and when Arezzo appeared, Podesta of Florence in 130 2 , and, be
the river left us abruptly, wheeling off ing bribed by the N eri, had many o f
from its environs at a sharp angle, the Bianchi put to death.
which Dante converts into a snout, 64. Florence, the habitation of these
and points disdainfully against the cur wolves, left so stripped by Fulcieri, on
rish race............ his retiring from office, that it will
" On entering the Val di Chiana, be long in recovering its former pros
we passed through a peasantry more perity.
civil and industrious than their Aretine 8 1. Guido del Duca o f Brettinoro,
neighbors. One poor girl, unlike the near Forli, in Romagna; nothing re
last whom we accosted, was driving a mains but the name. He and his com
laden ass, bearing a billet o f wood on panion Rinieri were “ gentlemen o f
her head, spinning with the rocca, and worth, if they had not been burned up
singing as she went on. Others were with envy.”
returning with their sickles from the 87. On worldly goods, where selfish
fields which they had reaped in the ness excludes others ; in contrast with
Maremma, to their own harvest on the the spiritual, which increase by being
hills. That contrast which struck me shared. See Canto X V . 45.
in the manners o f two cantons so near 88. Rinieri da Calboli. “ He was
as Cortona to Arezzo, can only be a very famous,” says the Ottimo, and his
vestige o f their ancient rivality while tory says no more. In the Cento No-
separate republics. Men naturally dis velle Antiche, Nov. 44, Roscoe’s T r .,
like the very virtues o f their enemies, he figures thus : —
and affect qualities as remote from theirs “ A certain knight was one day en
as they can well defend.” treating a lady whom he loved to smile
50. T h e Florentines. upon his wishes, and among other deli
53. T h e Pisans. cate arguments which he pressed upon
57. At the close o f these vitupera her was that o f his own superior
tions, perhaps to soften the sarcasm by wealth, elegance, and accomplishments,
making it more general, Benvenuto ap especially when compared with the
pends this note : “ What Dante says merits o f her own liege-lord, ‘ whose
o f the inhabitants o f the Val d* Arno extreme ugliness, madam,’ he contin
might be said o f the greater part o f the ued, * I think I need not insist upon.’
•286 Notes
Her husband, who overheard this com the Ottimo, “ was born o f low parents,
pliment from the place o f his conceal and lived so generously that the author
ment, immediately replied, * Pray, sir, (Dante) says there never was his like
mend your own manners, and do not in Bologna.”
vilify other people.’ T he name of the 10 1. T h e Ottimo again : “ This
plain gentleman was Lizio di Valbona, Messer Bernardino, son o f Fosco, a
and Messer Rinieri da Calvoli that of farmer, and o f humble occupation, be
the other. came so excellent by his good works,
92. In Romagna, which is bounded that he was an honor to Faenza ; and
by the Po, the Apennines, the Adriat he was named with praise, and the old
ic, and the river Reno, that passes near grandees were not ashamed to visit
Bologna. him, to see his magnificence, and to
93. For study and pleasure. hear his pleasant jests.”
97. O f Lizio and Manardi the Ot- 104. Guido da Prata, from the vil
ti?no says : “ Messer Lizio di Valbona, lage o f that name, between Faenza and
a courteous gentleman, in order to give Forli, and Ugolin d’ Azzo of Faenza,
a dinner at Forli, sold half his silken according to the same authority, though
bedquilt for sixty florins. Arrigo M a “ o f humble birth, rose to such great
nardi was of Brettinoro; he was a gen honor, that, leaving their native places,
tleman full of courtesy and honor, was they associated with the noblemen be
fond o f entertaining guests, made pres fore mentioned.”
ents o f robes and horses, loved honor 106. Frederick Tignoso was a gen
able men, and all his life was devoted tleman o f Rimini, living in Brettinoro.
to largess and good living.” “ A man o f great mark,” says Buti,
T h e marriage o f Riccardo Manardi “ with his band o f friends.” Accord
with Lizio’s daughter Caterina is the ing to Benvenuto, “ he had beautiful
subject of one o f the tales of the De~ blond hair, and was called tignoso (the
camerone, V. 4. Pietro Dante says, that, scurvy fellow) by way o f antiphrase.”
when Lizio was told o f the death of The Ottimo speaks of him as follows :
his dissipated son, he replied, “ It is “ He avoided the city as much as pos
no news to me, he never was alive.” sible, as a place hostile to gentlemen,
98. O f Pier Traversaro the Ottimo but when he was in it, he kept open
says : “ He was of Ravenna, a man of house.”
most gentle blood” ; and o f Guido di 107. Ancient and honorable fami
Carpigna : “ He was of Montefeltro. lies of Ravenna. There is a story of
. . . . Most o f the time he lived at them in the Decameroney G \o T .V . Nov.
Brettinoro, and surpassed all others in 8, which is too long to quote. Upon
generosity, loved for the sake of loving, this tale is founded Dryden’s poem of
and lived handsomely.” Theodore and Honoria.
100. “ This Messer Fabbro,” says 1
109. Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, . 1: —
Purgatorio xiv. 287
“ T h e dames, the cavaliers, the arms, the loves, produce no more o f them because they
T h e courtesies, the daring deeds I sing.” had degenerated like those o f Conio
112 . Brettinoro, now Bertinoro, is a and Castrocaro.
small town in Romagna, between Forli 1 18 . T h e Pagani were Lords o f
and Cesena, in which lived many of Faenza and Imola. The head o f the
the families that have just been men family, Mainardo, was surnamed “ the
tioned. T h e hills about it are still D evil.” — See Inf. X X V II. Note 49.
celebrated for their wines, as its in His bad repute will always be a re
habitants were in old times for their proach to the family.
hospitality. The following anecdote 1 2 1 . A nobleman o f Faenza, who
is told of them by the Ottimo, and also died without heirs, and thus his name
in nearly the same words in the Cento was safe.
Novelie Anticbe, Nov. 89 : — 13 2 . Milton, Comus: —
“ Among other laudable customs o f “ O f calling shapes and beckoning shadows
the nobles o f Brettinoro was that o f dire,
hospitality, and their not permitting A n d airy tongues that syllable m en’s names.”
any man in the town to keep an inn These voices in the air proclaim ex
for money. But there was a stone amples of envy.
column in the middle of the town,” 13 3 . Genesis iv. 13 , 1 4 : “ And Cain
(upon which were rings or knockers, said unto the L o r d ,............Every one
as if all the front-doors were there rep that findeth me shall slay me.”
resented,) “ and to this, as soon as a I 39 * Aglauros through envy op
stranger made his appearance, he was posed the interview o f Mercury with
conducted, and to one o f the rings her sister Herse, and was changed by
hitched his horse or hung his hat upon the god into stone. Ovid, Metamorph.,
it; and thus, as chance decreed, he was I ., Addison’s T r . : —
taken to the house o f the gentleman to “ ‘ T h e n keep thy seat forever,’ cries the god,
whom the ring belonged, and honored A n d touched the door, wide opening to his
according to his rank. This column rod.
and its rings were invented to remove Fain would she rise and stop him , but she
found
all cause o f quarrel among the noble
H er trunk too heavy to forsake the ground ;
men, who used to run to get possession H e r joints are all benumbed, her hands are
o f a stranger, as now-a-days they al pale,
most run away from him.” A n d marble now appears in every nail.
115 . Towns in Romagna. “ Bag- A s when a cancer in the body feeds,
nacavallo, and Castrocaro, and Co- A n d gradual death from limb to limb pro
ceeds,
nio,” says the Ottimo, “ were all habi
So does the chillness to each vital part
tations o f courtesy and honor. N ow Spread by degrees, and creeps into her h e art;
in Bagnacavallo the Counts are extinct; T i l l hardening everywhere, and speechless
and he (Dante) says it does well to grown,
288 Notes
She sits unmoved, and freezes to a stone. M an looks a lo ft ; and w ith erected eyes
But still her envious hue and sullen mien Beholds his own hereditary skies.”
A re in the sedentary figure seen.”
150 . Beaumont and Fletcher, The
147. The falconer’s call or lure, Laws of Candy, IV . 1 : —
which he whirls round in the air to “ Seldom despairing men look up to heaven,
attract the falcon on the wing. A lth o u gh it still speak to ’em in its glories j
148. Ovid, Metamorpb.y I ., D ry- For when sad thoughts perplex the mind o f
den’s T r. : — m an,
T h e re is a plummet in the heart that weighs
“ T h u s, w hile the mute creation downward bend A n d pulls us, livin g, to the dust we came
T h e ir sight, and to their earthly mother tend, from .”
CANTO XV.
1. In this canto is described the remained behind. See Canto X II.

ascent to the Third Circle o f the Note n o .
mountain. T h e hour indicated by the 39. Perhaps an allusion to “ what
peculiarly Dantesque introduction is the Spirit saith unto the churches,”
three hours before sunset, or the be Revelation ii. 7 : “ T o him that over-
ginning o f that division of the canoni cometh will I give to eat o f the tree
cal day called Vespers. Dante states o f life, which is in the midst o f the
this simple fact with curious circum paradise o f God.” And also the “ hid
locution, as if he would imitate the den manna,” and the “ morning star,”
celestial sphere in this scherxoso move and the “ white raiment,” and the name
ment. T h e beginning o f the day is not blotted “ out o f the book o f life.”
sunrise ; consequently the end of the 55. M ilton, Par. Lost, V . 7 1 : —
third hour, three hours after sunrise, “ Since good the more
is represented by an arc of the celestial Com m unicated, more abundant grow s.”
sphere measuring forty-five degrees. 67. Convito, IV . 20 : “ According

T h e sun had still an equal space to to the Apostle, * Every good gift and
pass over before his setting. This every perfect gift is from above, and
would make it afternoon in Purgatory, cometh down from the Father o f
and midnight in Tuscany, where Dante lights.* He says then that God only
was writing the poem. giveth this grace to the soul o f him
20. From a perpendicular. whom he sees to be prepared and
38. Matthew v. 7 : “ Blessed are disposed in his person to receive this
the merciful, for they shall obtain divine act............Whence i f the soul is
mercy ” ; — sung by the spirits that imperfectly placed, it is not disposed
Purgatorio xv. 289
to receive this blessed and divine infu A n d thus when nature doth create the heart
sion ; as when a pearl is badly dis N oble, and pure, and high,
L ik e virtue from the star, love comes from
posed, or is imperfect, it cannot receive
wom an’ s eye.”
the celestial virtue, as the noble Gui
do Guinizzelli says in an ode o f his, 70. Par. X IV . 40 : —
beginning, “ Its brightness is proportioned to the ardor,
T h e ardor to the vision, and the vision
‘ T o noble heart love doth for shelter fly.’
Equals w hat grace it has above its m erit.”
The soul, then, may be ill placed in
the person through defect o f tempera 89. Luke ii. 48 : “ And his mother
ment, or o f time ; and in such a soul said unto him, Son, why hast thou thus
this divine radiance never shines. And dealt with us ? behold, thy father and
of those whose souls are deprived o f I have sought thee sorrowing.”
this light it may be said that they are 97. T h e contest between Neptune
like valleys turned toward the north, and Minerva for the right o f naming
or like subterranean caverns, where the Athens, in which Minerva carried the
light o f the sun never falls, unless re day by the vote o f the women. This
flected from some other place illumi is one o f the subjects which Minerva
nated by it.” wrought in her trial o f skill with
The following are the first two stan Arachne. Ovid, Metamorpb., V I . :.—
zas of Guido’s Ode: — u Pallas in figures wrought the heavenly powers,
** T o noble heart love doth for shelter fly, A n d M ars’s hill among the Athenian towers.
A s seeks the bird the forest’s leafy shade j On lofty thrones twice six celestials sate,
L o ve was not felt till noble heart beat Jo v e in the midst, and held their warm debate j
high, T h e subject w eighty, and w ell know n to fame,
N o r before love the noble heart was made 3 From whom the city should receive its name.
Soon as the sun’ s broad flame Each god by proper features was expressed,
W a s formed, so soon the clear light filled Jo v e w ith majestic mien excelled the rest.
the air, H is three-forked mace the dewy sea-god
Y e t was not till he came j shook, •
So love springs up in noble breasts, and A n d , looking sternly, smote the ragged rock j
there W h e n from the stone leapt forth a sprightly
Has its appointed space, steed,
A s heat in the bright flame finds its allotted A n d Neptune claims the city for the deed.
place. H e rself she blazons, with a glittering spear,
A n d crested helm that veiled her braided hair,
Kindles in noble heart the fire o f love, W ith shield, and scaly breastplate, imple
A s hidden virtue in the precious stone j ments o f war.
T h is virtue comes not from the stars above, Stru ck w ith her pointed lance, the teeming
T ill round it the ennobling sun has shone 3 earth
But when his powerful blaze Seemed to produce a new, surprising birth ;
Has drawn forth w hat was vile, the stars W h e n from the glebe the pledge o f conquest
impart sprung,
Strange virtue in their rays j A tree pale-green w ith fairest olives hu ng.”
VOL. II. 37
290 Notes
10 1. Pisistratus, the tyrant o f Athens, their teeth. But he, being full o f the
who used his power so nobly as to H oly Ghost, looked up steadfastly into
make the people forget the usurpation heaven...........Then they cried out with
by which he had attained it. Among a loud voice, and stopped their ears,
his good deeds was the collection and and ran upon him with one accord, and
preservation of the Homeric poems, cast him out o f the city, and stoned
which but for him might have perished. him............And he kneeled down, and
He was also the first to found a public cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not
library in Athens. This anecdote is this sin to their charge ! And when
told by Valerius Maximus, Fact, ac he had said this, he fell asleep.”
Diet., V I. i. 117 . He recognizes it to be a vision,
106. The stoning o f Stephen. Acts but not false, because it symbolized the
vii. 5 4 : " Th ey gnashed on him with truth.
C AN T XVI.
1. The Third Circle of Purgatory, ing and a friend o f Dante. “ Nearly

and the punishment o f the Sin of all that he gained,” says the Ottimo,
Anger. “ he spent in charity............He visited
2. Poor, or impoverished o f its stars Paris, and, as long as his money lasted,
by clouds. T he same expression is he was esteemed for his valor and
applied to the Arno, Canto X IV . 45, courtesy. Afterwards he depended
to indicate its want of water. upon those richer than himself, and
19. In the Litany of the Saints: — lived and died honorably.” There
“ Lamb of God, who takest away are some anecdotes o f him in the
the sins of the world, spare us, O Cento Novelle Anticbe, Nov. 4 1, 52,
Lord. hardly worth quoting.
** Lamb of God, who takest away It is doubtful whether the name of
the sins of the world, graciously hear Lombardo is a family name, or only
us, O Lord. indicates that Marco was an Italian,
“ Lamb of God, who takest away after the fashion then prevalent among
the sins of the world, have mercy on the French o f calling all Italians Lom
u s !” bards. See Note 124.
27. Still living the life temporal, Benvenuto says of him that he “ was
where time is measured by the calen a man of noble mind, but disdainful,
dar. and easily moved to anger.”
46. Marco Lombardo was a Vene Buti’s portrait is as follows : “ This
tian nobleman, a man of wit and learn- Marco was a Venetian, called Marco
Purgatorio xvi. 291
D aca ; and was a very learned man, ment to perceive the differences o f
and had many political virtues, and things; to discover what he is to avoid
was very courteous, giving to poor or pursue. Now what a person esteems
noblemen all that he gained, and he desirable, he desires ; but what he
gained much ; for he was a courtier, thinks ought to be avoided, he shuns.
and was much beloved for his virtue, Thus every rational creature hath a
and much was given him by the no liberty of choosing and rejecting. But
bility ; and as he gave to those who I do not assert that this liberty is equal
were in need, so he lent to all who in all beings. Heavenly substances,
asked. So that, coming to die, and who are exalted above us, have an en
having much still due to him, he made lightened judgment, an incorruptible
a will, and among other bequests this, will, and a power ever at command
that whoever owed him should not be effectually to accomplish their desires.
held to pay the debt, saying, * Who With regard to man, his immaterial
ever has, may keep.’ ” spirit is also free ; but it is most at
Portarelli thinks that this Marco liberty when employed in the contem
may be Marco Polo the traveller ; but plation of the Divine mind; it becomes
this is inadmissible, as he was still less so when it enters into a body; and
living at the time of Dante’s death. is still more restrained when it is im
57. What Guido del Duca has told prisoned in a terrestrial habitation,
him o f the corruption o f Italy, in Can composed of members o f clay ; and is
to X IV . reduced, in fine, to the most extreme
64. Ovid, Metamorpb., X ., Ozell’s servitude when, by plunging into the
T r .: — pollutions o f vice, it totally departs
** T h e god upon its leaves from reason : for the soul no sooner
T h e sad expression o f his sorrow weaves,
turns her eye from the radiance o f su
A n d to this hour the mournful purple wears
preme truth to dark and base objects,
A t , aiy inscribed in funeral characters.”
but she is involved in a mist o f igno
67. See the article Cabala, at the rance, assailed by impure desires ; by
end of Vol. I I I . yielding to which she increases her
69. Boethius, Cons. P hil.,V . Prosa 2, thraldom, and thus the freedom which
Ridpath’s T r . : — she derives from nature becomes in
' “ But in this indissoluble chain o f some measure the cause o f her slavery.
causes, can we preserve the liberty o f But the eye o f Providence, which sees
the will? Does this fatal Necessity re everything from eternity, perceives all
strain the motions of the human soul?’ th is; and that same Providence dis
— * There is no reasonable being,’ re poses everything she has predestinated,
plied she, « Who has not freedom of in the order it deserves. As Homer
will : for every being distinguished says o f the sun, It sees everything and
with this faculty is endowed with judg hears everything.’ ”
292 Notes
Also Milton, Parad. Lost, II. 5 5 7 :— seen by God, and that what is foreseen
Others apart sat on a hill retired, must take place. This then is of itself
In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high sufficient to destroy all idea o f human
O f providence, foreknowledge, w ill and fate, liberty.”
Fixed fate, free w ill, foreknowledge absolute,
78. Ptolemy says, “ The wise man
A n d found no end, in wandering mazes lost.”
shall control the stars” ; and the Turk
See also Par. X V II. Note 40. ish proverb, “ W it and a strong will
70. Boethius, Cons. P b il.^ J. Prosa 3, are superior to Fate.”
Ridpath’s T r . : — 79. Though free, you are subject to
“ But I shall now endeavor to demon the divine power which has immedi
strate, that, in whatever way the chain ately breathed into you the soul, and
o f causes is disposed, the event o f the soul is not subject to the influence
things which are foreseen is necessary; o f the stars, as the body is.
although prescience may not appear to 84'. Shakespeare, Lear, V . 3 : —
be the necessitating cause of their be “ A n d take u p o n ’s the mystery o f things,
falling. For example, if a person sits, A s i f we were G o d ’s spies.”
the opinion formed o f him that he is 92. ConvitOyYV. i z i “ T h e supreme
seated is o f necessity true ; but by in desire of everything, and that first given
verting the phrase, i f the opinion is by nature, is to return to its source ;
true that he is seated, he must neces and since God is the source o f our
sarily sit. In both cases, then, there is souls, and maker o f them in his own
a necessity; in the latter, that the per likeness, as is written, * Let us make
son sits ; in the former, that the opinr man in our image, after our likeness/
ion concerning him is true : but the to him this soul chiefly desireth to re
person doth not sit, because the opin turn. And like as a pilgrim, who goeth
ion of his sitting is true, but the opin upon a road on which he never was be
ion is rather true because the action fore, thinketh every house he seeth afar
o f his being seated was antecedent in off to be an inn, and, not finding it so,
time. Thus, though the truth of the directeth his trust to the next, and thus
opinion may be the effect of the person from house to house until he reacheth
taking a seat, there is, nevertheless, a the inn; in like manner our soul, pres
necessity common to both. T he samp ently as she entereth the new and un
method o f reasoning, I think, should be travelled road o f this life, turneth her
employed with regard to the prescience eyes to the goal o f her supreme good;
o f God, and future contingencies ; for, and therefore whatever thing she seeth
allowing it to be true that events are that seemeth to have some good in it,
foreseen because they are to happen, she believeth to be that. And because
and that they do not befall because her knowledge at first is imperfect,
they are foreseen, it is still necessary not being experienced nor trained,
that what is to happen must be fore small goods seem great, and there
Purgatorio xn. 293
fore w ith them beginneth her desire. an interval o f many years, were to be
H ence w e see children desire exceed developed during the pontificate o f a
ingly an apple; and then, going farther, prelate who ascended the throne o f St.
desire a little b ird ; and farther still, a Peter at the age o f eighty. N or was
beautiful dress; and then a horse ; and this strife for any specific point in dis
then a woman ; and then wealth not pute, like the right o f investiture, but
very great, and then greater, and then avowedly for supremacy on one side,
greater still. And this cometh to pass, w hich hardly deigned to call itself in
because she findeth not in any o f these dependence ; for independence, on the
things that w hich she is seeking, and other, w hich remotely at least aspired
trusteth to find it farther on.” after supremacy. Caesar would bear
96. H enry Vaughan, Sacred Po no superior, the successor o f St. Peter
ems : — no equal. T h e contest could not have
“ T h e y are indeed our pillar-fires, begun under men more strongly con
Seen as we go ; trasted, or more determinedly oppug-
T h e y are that city’s shining spires nant in character, than G regory the
W e travel to.”
N inth and Frederick the Second. G reg
99. Leviticus xi. 4 : “ T h e camel ory retained the ambition, the vigor,
because he cheweth the cud, but di- almost the activity o f youth, w ith the
videth not the h o o f: he is unclean to stubborn obstinacy, and something o f
you.” Dante applies these words to the irritable petulance, o f old age. H e
the Pope as temporal sovereign. was still master o f all his powerful fac
101. W orld ly goods. As in the old ulties ; his knowledge o f affairs, o f
French satirical verses : — mankind, o f the peculiar interests o f
** A u temps passe du siecle d’or, almost all the nations in Christendom,
Crosse de bois, eveque d’o rj acquired by long employment in the
M aintenant changent les lois,
most important negotiations both by
Crosse d’or, eveque de bois.”
Innocent the T h ird and by Honorius
107. T h e Emperor and the Pope ; the T h ird ; eloquence w hich his own
the temporal and spiritual power. age compared to that o f T u lly ; pro
115. Lombardy and Romagna. found erudition in that learning w hich,
117 . T h e dissension and war be in the mediaeval churchman, com
tween the Emperor Frederick the Sec manded the highest admiration. No
ond and Pope G regory the N inth. one was his superior in the science
Milman, Hist. Lat. Christ., Book X . o f the canon law ; the Decretals, to
C h . 3, says : — which he afterwards gave a more full
“ T h e Empire and the Papacy were and authoritative form, were at his
aaow to meet in their last mortal and command, and they were to him as
implacable strife ; the two first acts o f much the law o f G od as the Gospels
this tremendous drama, separated by themselves, or the primary principles
294 Notes
o f morality. T h e jealous reverence not forbidding him self those amorous

and attachment o f a great lawyer to indulgences w hich were the reward o f
his science strengthened the lofty pre chivalrous valor and o f the * gay sci
tensions o f the churchman. e n c e ’ ; the Law giver, whose far-seeing
“ Frederick the Second, w ith many wisdom seemed to anticipate some o f
o f the noblest qualities w hich could those views o f equal justice, o f the ad
captivate the admiration o f his own vantages o f commerce, o f the cultiva
age, in some respects might appear tion o f the arts o f peace, beyond all the
misplaced, and by many centuries toleration o f adverse religions, w hich
prematurely born. Frederick having even in a more dutiful son o f the
crowded into his youth adventures, Church would doubtless have seemed
perils, successes, almost unparalleled in godless indifference. Frederick must
history, was now only expanding into appear before us in the course o f our
the prime o f manhood. A parentless history in the full development o f all
orphan, he had struggled upward into these shades o f character ; but besides
the actual reigning monarch o f his all this, Frederick’s views o f the tem
hereditary Sicily ; he was even then poral sovereignty were as imperious and
rising above the yoke o f the turbulent autocratic as those o f the haughtiest
magnates o f his realm, and the depress churchman o f the spiritual supremacy.
ing tutelage o f the Papal See ; he had T h e ban o f the Empire ought to be
crossed the Alps a boyish adventurer, at least equally awful with that o f the
and won so much through his own Church ; disloyalty to the Emperor
valor and daring that he might w ell was as heinous a sin as infidelity to the
ascribe to him self his conquest, the head o f Christendom ; the indepen
kingdom o f Germ any, the imperial dence o f the Lombard republics was as
crown ; he was in undisputed posses a great and punishable political heresy.
sion o f the Empire, w ith all its rights JEven in Rome itself, as head o f the
in Northern Italy ; King o f Apulia, Roman Empire, Frederick aspired to
Sicily, and Jerusalem. H e was be a supremacy w hich was not les.s un
ginning to be at once the Magnificent limited because vague and undefined,
Sovereign, the knight, the poet, the and irreconcilable with that o f the Su
lawgiver, the patron o f arts, letters, preme Pontiff. I f ever Emperor might
and science; the Magnificent Sovereign, be tempted by the vision o f a vast
now holding his court in one o f the hereditary monarchy to be perpetuated
old barbaric and feudal cities o f G er in his house, the princely house o f
many among the proud and turbulent Hohenstaufen, it was Frederick. He
princes o f the Empire, more often on had heirs o f his greatness ; his eldest
the sunny shores o f Naples or Palermo, son was King o f the Romans ; from
in southern and almost Oriental luxury; his loins might yet spring an inexhaust
the gallant Knight and troubadour Poet, ible race o f princes ; the failure o f his
Purgatorio xvi. 295
imperial line was his last fear. T h e o f Brescia ; Gherardo da Camino o f

character o f the man seemed formed to T re v is o ; and Guido da Castello o f
achieve and to maintain this vast de Reggio. O f these three the Ottimo
sign ; he was at once terrible and pop thus speaks : —
ular, courteous, generous, placable to “ Messer Currado was laden w ith
his foes ; yet there was a depth o f honor during his life, delighted in a
cruelty in the heart o f Frederick to fine retinue, and in political life in the
wards revolted subjects, w hich made government o f cities, in w hich he ac
him look on the atrocities o f his quired much praise and fame.
allies, Eccelin di Romano, and the “ Messer Guido was assiduous in
Salinguerras, but as legitimate means honoring men o f worth, who passed
to quell insolent and stubborn rebel on their way to France, and furnished
lion............ many with horses and arms, who came
“ It is impossible to conceive a con hitherward from France. T o all who
trast more strong or more irreconcila had honorably consumed their prop
ble than the octogenarian G regory, in erty, and returned more poorly fur
his cloister palace, in his conclave o f nished than became them, he gave,
stern ascetics, with all but severe im without hope o f return, horses, arms,
prisonment within conventual walls, and money.
completely monastic in manners, hab “ Messer Gherardo da Camino de
its, views, in corporate spirit, in celi lighted not in one, but in all noble
bacy, in rigid seclusion from the rest things, keeping constantly at hom e.”
o f mankind, in the conscientious deter H e farther says, that his fame was
mination to enslave, i f possible, all so great in France that he was there
Christendom to its inviolable unity o f spoken o f as the “ simple Lom bard,”
faith, and to the least possible latitude just as, “ when one says the C ity , and
o f disciplin e; and the gay and yet no more, one means Rome.” Benvenu
youthful Frederick, w ith his mingled to da Imola says that all Italians were
assemblage of knights and ladies, o f called Lombards by the French. In
Christians, Jews, and Mohammedans, the Histoire et Cronique du petit fehan
o f poets and men o f science, met, as it de Saintre, fol. 219, ch. iv., the author
were, to enjoy and minister to enjoy remarks : “ T h e fifteenth day after
ment, — to cultivate the pure intellect, Saintre’s return, there came to Paris
— where, if not the restraints o f relig two young, noble, and brave Italians,
ion, at least the awful authority o f whom w e call Lombards.”
churchmen was examined w ith free 132. Deuteronomy xviii. 2: “ T h ere
dom, sometimes ridiculed w ith sportive fore shall they have no inheritance
w it.” among their brethren : the Lord is
See also I n f X . N ote 119. their inheritance, as he hath said unto
124. Currado (Conrad) da Palazzo them .”
296 Notes
140. “ T h is Gherardo,” says Buti, ferent and more equivocal account.

“ had a daughter, called, on account o f H e says : “ Madonna Gaia was the
her beauty, Gaja ; and so modest and daughter o f Messer Gherardo da Ca-
virtuous was she, that through all Italy mino : she was a lady o f such conduct
was spread the fame o f her beauty and in amorous delectations, that her name
modesty.” was notorious throughout all I t a ly ;
T h e O ttim oy who preceded Buti in and therefore she is thus spoken o f
point o f time, gives a somewhat dif here.”
C A N T O XVII,
1. T h e trance and vision o f Dante, O r perhaps the reference is to the

and the ascent to the Fourth C ircle, H om eric legend o f Philomela, Odyssey,
where the sin o f Sloth is punished. X IX . 5 1 8 : “ As when the daughter
2. Iliad, III. 10 : “ As the south o f Pandarus, the swarthy nightingale,
wind spreads a mist upon the brow o f sings beautifully when the spring new
a mountain, by no means agreeable to ly begins, sitting in the thick branches
the shepherd, but to the robber better o f trees, and she, frequently changing,
than night, in w hich a man sees only pours forth her much-sounding voice,
as far as he can cast a stone.” lamenting her dear Itylus, whom once
19. In this vision are represented she slew w ith the brass through igno
some o f the direful effects o f anger, be rance.”
ginning with the murder o f Itys by his 25. Esther vii. 9, 10 : “ And Har-
mother, Procne, and her sister, Philo bonah, one o f the chamberlains, said
mela. O vid, V I . : — before the king, Behold also, the gal
N ow, at her lap arrived, the flattering boy lows, fifty cubits high, w hich Haman
Salutes his parent with a smiling j o y ; had made for Mordecai, who had spo
About her neck his little arms are thrown, ken good for the king, standeth in the
An d he accosts her in a prattling tone.
house o f Haman. T h en the king
said, Hang him thereon. So they
W hen Procne, on revengeful m ischief bent,
Home to his heart a piercing poniard sent. hanged Haman on the gallows that he
Itys, with rueful cries, but all too late, had prepared for Mordecai. T h en
Holds out his hands, and deprecates his fate; was the king’s wrath pacified.”
S till at his m other’s neck he fondly aims, 34. Lavinia, daughter o f King Lati-
An d strives to melt her with endearing names;
nus and Queen Amata, betrothed to
Y e t still the cruel mother perseveres,
Turnus. Amata, thinking Turnus dead,
Nor with concern his bitter anguish hears.
T h is m ight suffice ; but Philom ela too hanged herself in anger and despair.
Across his throat a shining cutlass drew.” jEneidy X II. 875, D ryden’s T r . : —
Purgatorio xvm. 297
MMad with her anguish, impotent to bear And M ilton, Par ad. Lost, III. 380: —
T h e m ighty grief, she loathes the vital air.
“ D ark w ith excessive bright thy skirts appear.”
She calls herself the cause o f all this ill,
A n d owns the dire effects o f her ungoverned 68. M atthew v. 9 : “ Blessed are
w ill j the peacem akers: for they shall be
She raves against the gods, she beats her called the children o f G o d .”
breast,
85. Sloth. See Inf. V II. N ote 115.
She tears w ith both her hands her purple
And Brunetto Latini, Tesoretto, X X I.
vest j
T h en round a beam a running noose she tied, 145: —
“ In ira nasce e posa
A n d , fastened by the n eck, obscenely died.
Accidia niquitosa.”
“ Soon as the fatal news by fame was blown,
And to her dames and to her daughters know n, 97. T h e first, the o b ject; the sec
T h e sad Lavinia rends her yellow hair ond, too much or too little vigor.
And rosy ch eek s; the rest her sorrow share; 124. T h e sins o f Pride, Envy, and
W ith shrieks the palace rings, and madness
Anger. T h e other is Sloth, or luke
o f despair.”
warmness in well-doing, punished in
53. See P ar. V . 1 3 4 : — this circle:
“ Even as the sun, that doth conceal h im self 136. T h e sins o f Avarice, Gluttony,
B y too m uch lig h t.” and Lust.
C A N T O XVIII.
1. T h e punishment o f the sin o f Latini, Tresor, C h . C V I I I .: “ After the

Sloth. zone o f the air is placed the fourth
22. M ilton, Par ad. L o st,V . 100: — element. T h is is an orb o f fire w ith
“ But kno w that in the soul out any moisture, w hich extends as far
A re many lesser faculties, that serve as the moon, and surrounds this atmos
Reason as c h ie f; among these Fancy next phere in w hich w e are. And know
Her office holds ; o f all external things,
that above the fire is first the moon,
W hich the five watchful senses represent,
and the other stars, w hich are all o f
She forms imaginations, aery shapes,
W h ich Reason joining or disjoining frames the nature o f fire.”
A ll what we affirm or w hat deny, and call 44. I f the soul follows the appetitus
Our knowledge or opinion ; then retires naturalis, or goes not w ith another foot
Into her private cell, when Nature rests.” than that o f nature.
27. Bound or taken captive by the 49. In the language o f the Scholas
image o f pleasure presented to it. See tics, Form was the passing from the
Canto X V I I . 9 1. potential to the actual. “ W hatever is
30. T h e region o f Fire. Brunetto A c t,” says Thom as Aquinas, Summa
v o l . 11. 38
298 Notes
Tbeol., Quaest. l x v i . A rt. I, “ what banks the Thebans crowded at night

ever is A ct is Form ; quod est actus est to invoke the aid o f Bacchus to give
fo rm a ” And again Form was divided them rain for their vineyards.
into Substantial Form, which caused a 94. T h e word falcare, in French
thing to be ; and Accidental Form, faucber, here translated “ curve,” is a
w hich caused it to be in a certain w ay, term o f equitation, describing the mo
“ as heat makes its subject not simply tion o f the outer fore-leg o f a horse in
to be, but to be hot.” going round in a circle. It is the
“ T h e soul,” says the same Angelic sweep o f a m ower’s scythe.
Doctor, Quaest. l x x v i . A rt. 4, “ is 100. Luke i. 39: “ And M ary arose
the substantial form o f man ; anima est in those days and went into the hill-
forma substantialis hominis.” It is seg country with haste.”
regate or distinct from matter, though 101. Caesar on his way to subdue
united with it. Ilerda, now Lerida, in Spain, besieged
61. “ T h i s ” refers to the power Marseilles, leaving there part o f his
that counsels, or the faculty o f Rea army under Brutus to complete the
son, mentioned in the next line. work.
66. Accepts, or rejects like chaff. 118. N othing is known o f this A b
73. Dante makes Beatrice say, Par. bot, not even his name. Finding him
V. 19: — here, the commentators make bold to
“ T h e greatest gift that in his largess God
say that he was “ slothful and deficient
C.eating made, and unto his own goodness in good deeds.” T h is is like some o f
Nearest conformed, and that which he doth the definitions in the Crusca, w hich,
prize instead o f the interpretation o f a Dan-
Most highly, is the freedom o f the w ill, tesque word, give you back the passage
W herew ith the creatures o f intelligence
in which it occurs.
Both all and only were and are endowed.”
119. T h is is the famous Emperor
76. Near midnight o f the Second Frederick Barbarossa, w ho, according
Day o f Purgatory. to the German popular tradition, is
80. T h e moon was rising in the still sitting in a cave in the Kipphaiiser
sign o f the Scorpion, it being now five mountains, waiting for something to
days afrer the full ; and when the sun happen, w hile his beard has grown
is in this sign, it is seen by the in through the stone-table before him.
habitants o f Rome to set between the In 1162 he burned and devastated M i
islands o f Corsica and Sardinia. lan, Brescia, Piacenza, and Cremona.
83. V irgil, born at Pietola, near H e was drowned in the Salef in A r
Mantua. menia, on his crusade in 1190, en
84. T h e burden o f Dante’s doubts deavoring to ford the river on horse
and questions, laid upon V irgil. back in his impatience to cross. His
9 1. Rivers o f Bceotia, on whose character is thus drawn by Milman,.
Purgatorio xix. 299
Lat. Christ., Book V I I I . C h . 7, and 121. Alberto della Scala, Lord o f

sufficiently explains w hy Dante calls Verona. H e made his natural son,
him “ the good Barbarossa ” : — whose qualifications for the office
“ Frederick was a prince o f intrepid Dante here enumerates, and the com
valor, consummate prudence, unmeas mentators repeat, Abbot o f the M o
ured ambition, justice w hich hardened nastery o f San Zeno.
into severity, the ferocity o f a barba 132. See Inf. V II. N ote 115.
rian somewhat tempered w ith a high 135. Nutnbers x x xii. 11 , 12: “ Sure
chivalrous gallantry ; above all, w ith a ly none o f the men that came out of
strength o f character w hich subjugated Egypt, from twenty years old and up
alike the great temporal and ecclesiasti ward, shall see the land which I sware
cal princes o f Germ any ; and was pre unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto
pared to assert the Imperial rights in Jacob ; because they have not w holly
Italy to the utmost. O f the constitu followed me : save Caleb the son of
tional rights o f the Emperor, o f his Jephunneh the K enezite, and Joshua
unlimited supremacy, his absolute in the son o f Nun ; for they have w holly
dependence of, his temporal superiority followed the Lord.”
over, all other powers, even that o f the 137. T h e Trojans w ho remained
Pope, Frederick proclaimed the loftiest w ith Acestes in Sicily, instead o f fol
notions. H e was to the Empire what lowing iEneas to Italy. JEneid, V . :
Hildebrand and Innocent were to the “ T h e y enroll the matrons for the
Popedom. H is power was o f G od city, and set on shore as many o f the
alone; to assert that it was bestowed people as were w illing, — souls that
by the successor o f St. Peter was a lie, had no desire o f high renown.”
and directly contrary to the doctrine o f 145. T h e end o f the Second D ay.
St. Peter.”
C A N T O X IX .
e ascent to the Fifth C ircle, certain figures, w hich have peculiar

/ where Avarice is punished. It is the names. Am ong these is the figure
/ dawn p f the T h ird D ay. called the Fortuna Major, w hich is thus
i 3/Brunetto Latini, Tresor, C h . C X I. drawn : —
* *
^'"r r Saturn, who is sovereign over all, is
* *
cruel and malign and o f a cold na * *
ture.” *
4. Geomancy is divination by points *
in the ground, or pebbles arranged in and which by an effort o f imagination
300 Notes
can also be formed out o f some o f the 59. T h e three remaining sins to be
last stars o f Aquarius, and some o f the purged away are Avarice, Gluttony,
first o f Pisces. and Lust.
Chaucer, Troil. and Cres., III. 6 1. See Canto X I V . 148.
1415 : — 73. Psalms cxix. 2 5 : “ M y soul
“ But whan the cocke, commune astrologer, cleaveth unto the d u st: quicken thou
Gan on his brest to bete and after crowe, me according to thy w ord.”
And Lucifer, the dayes messanger, 99. K n ow that I was the successor
Gan for to rise and out his bemes throwe, o f Peter. It is Pope Adrian the Fifth
A n d estward rose, to him that could it know e,
w ho speaks. H e was o f the family o f
Fortuna M a jo r ."
the Counts o f Lavagna, the family tak
6. Because the sun is following close ing its title from the river Lavagna,
behind. flowing between Siestri and Chiaveri,
7. T h is “ stammering woman ” o f towns on the Riviera di Genova. H e
Dante’s dream is Sensual Pleasure, was Pope only thirty-nine days, and
w hich the imagination o f the beholder died in 1276. W hen his kindred came
adorns with a thousand charms. T h e to congratulate him on his election, he
“ lady saintly and alert ” is Reason, said, “ W ould that ye came to a Car
the same that tied Ulysses to the mast, dinal in good health, and not to a dying
and stopped the ears o f his sailors with Pope.”
w ax that they might not hear the song 134. Revelation x ix . 10: “ And I fell
o f the Sirens. at his feet to worship him. And he
G ow er, Conf. Amant., I . : — said unto me, See thou do it not, I am
“ O f such nature thy fellow-servant.”
T h e y ben, that with so swete a steven 137, M atthew x xii. 30 : “ For in
L ik e to the melodie o f heven the resurrection they neither marry,
In womannishe vois they singe
nor are given in marriage, but are as
W ith notes o f so great likin ge,
O f suche mesure, o f suche m usike,
the angels in heaven,” H e reminds
W h e ro f the shippes they beswike Dante that here all earthly distinc
T h a t passen by the costes there. tions and relations are laid aside.
For whan the shipmen lay an ere H e is no longer “ tfre Spouse o f the
Unto the vois, in here airs C h u rch,”
T h e y wene it be a paradis,
141. P enitence; line 9 2 : t—
W h ich after is to hem an h elle.”
“ In whom weeping ripens
51. “ T h a t is,” says Buti, ‘ ‘ they T h a t without w hich to God we cannot turn.”
shall have the gift o f comforting their 142. Madonna Alagia was the w ife
souls.” o f M arcello M alespini, that friend o f
M atthew v. 4 : “ Blessed are they Dante w ith whom , during his wan
that m ourn: for they shall be com derings, he took refuge in the Luni-
forted.” giana, in 1307.
Purgatorio xx. 3 QI
c a n ': XX.
1. In this canto the subject o f the Voragine, the great storehouse o f me
preceding is continued, namely, the diaeval wonders.
punishment o f Avarice and Prodigality. It may be found also in M rs. Jame
2. T o please the speaker, Pope son’ s Sacred and Legendary A rt, II. 62,
Adrian the Fifth, (w ho, Canto X IX * and in her version runs thus : —
139, says, “ N o w in that city there dwelt
“ Now go, no longer w ill I have thee linger,” ) a certain nobleman w ho had three
daughters, and, from being rich, he
Dante departs without further question#
became poor ; so poor that there
though not yet satisfied*
remained no means o f obtaining food
13. See the article Cabala at the end
for his daughters but by sacrificing
o f V ol. III.
them to an infamous life ; and often
15. T h is is generally supposed to
times it came into his mind to tell
refer to Can Grande della Scala. See
them so, but shame and sorrow held
I n f I. N ote 101.
him dumb. Meantime the maidens
23. T h e inn at Bethlehem.
w ept continually, not knowing what
25. T h e Roman Consul w ho re
to do, and not having bread to e a t;
jected w ith disdain the bribes o f P yr
and their father became more and
rhus, and died so poor that he was
more desperate. W hen Nicholas heard
buried at the public expense, and the
o f this, he thought it a shame that such
Romans were obliged to give a dowry
a thing should happen in a Christian
to his daughters. V irg il, JEneid, V I .
land ; therefore one night, when the
«44» calls him “ powerful in poverty.”
maidens were asleep, and their father
Dante also extols him in the Convito,
alone sat watching and weeping, he
I V. 5.
took a handful o f gold, and, tying it
31. G ow er, Conf. Amant., V . 1 3 : —
up in a handkerchief, he repaired to
** Betwene the two extremites
the dwelling o f the poor man. H e
O f vice stont the propertea
considered how he might bestow it
O f vertue, and to prove it so
T a k e avarice and take also 4 without making him self known, and,
T h e vice o f prodegalite, r w hile he stood irresolute, the moon
Betwene hem liberalite, ' coming from behind a cloud showed
\ W h ich is the vertue of largesse him a w indow open ; so he threw it
: Stent and governeth his noblesse.” j
in, and it fell at the feet o f the fa
32.; T h is is St. Nicholas>,--patrpftN ther, w ho, w hen he found it, re-
saint/of childrenTsailors, ^rf'd travellers. ; turned thanks, and w ith it he portioned
Thd. incident here allude^ to is found his eldest daughter. A second time
in the. Legenda Aurea o f Jacobus de Nicholas provided a similar sum, and
302 Notes
again he threw it in by n ig h t; and o f the French temperament broke out

w ith it the nobleman married his sec on rare occasions; his first Flemish
ond daughter. But he greatly desired campaigns were conducted with brav
to know who it was that came to his ery and skill, but Philip ever preferred
aid; therefore he determined to watch, the subtle negotiation, the slow and
and when the good saint came for the w ily encroachm ent; till his enemies
third time, and prepared to throw in w ere, i f not in his power, at least at
the third portion, he was discovered, great disadvantage, he did not venture
for the nobleman seized him by the on the usurpation or invasion. In the
skirt o f his robe, and flung him self at slow systematic pursuit o f his object he
his feet, saying, ‘ O Nicholas ! servant was utterly without scruple, without
o f G od ! w hy seek to hide thyself? * remorse. H e was not so much cruel
and he kissed his feet and his hands. as altogether obtuse to human suffer
But Nicholas made him promise that ing, i f necessary to the prosecution o f
he would tell no man. And many his schemes; not so much rapacisus as,
other charitable works did Nicholas finding money indispensable to his ag
perform in his native city.” grandizement, seeking money by means
43. I f we knew from what old o f w hich he hardly seemed to discern
chronicle, or from what Professor o f the injustice or the folly. N ever was
the Rue du Fouarre, Dante derived man or monarch so intensely selfish as
his knowledge o f French history, we Philip the Fair : his own power was
might possibly make plain the rather his ultimate sco p e; he extended so
difficult passage w hich begins w ith this enormously the royal prerogative, the
line. T h e spirit that speaks is not influence o f France, because he was
that o f the K ing Hugh Capet, but that K ing o f France. H is rapacity, w hich
o f his father, Hugh Capet, Duke o f persecuted the Tem plars, his vindic
France and Count o f Paris. H e was tiveness, w hich warred on Boniface af
son o f Robert the Strong. Pasquier, ter death as through life, was this self
Re ch. de la France, V I . 1, describes ishness in other forms.”
him as both valiant and prudent, and H e was defeated at the battle o f
says that, “ although he was never Courtray, 1302, known in history as
king, yet was he a maker and unmaker the battle o f the Spurs o f G old, from
o f kings,” and then goes on to draw the great number found on the field
an elaborate parallel between him and after the battle. T h is is the vengeance
Charles Martel. imprecated upon him by Dante.
T h e “ malignant p la n t” is Philip 50. For tw o centuries and a half,
the Fair, whose character is thus that is, from 1060 to 1316, there was
drawn by M ilman, Lat. Christ., Book either a Louis or a Philip on the
X I. C h. 8: — throne o f France. T h e succession was
“ In Philip the Fair the gallantry as fo llo w s: —-
Purgatorio xx. 303
Philip I. the Amorous, 1060. thought that Hugh the G reat, C apet’s
Louis V I . the Fat, 1108. father, was a butcher, he was not a
Louis V I I . the Young, H 37- clever man. But if he used this ex
Philip II. Augustus, 1180. pression figuratively, as I am w illing
Louis V I I I . the Lion, 1223. to believe, those who cling to the
Louis IX . the Saint, 1226. shell o f the word are greater block
Philip III. the Bold, 1270. heads still............
Philip IV . the Fair, 1285. “ T h is passage o f Dante being read
Louis X ., 1314* and explained by Luigi Alamanni, an
52. It is doubtful whether this pas- Italian, before Francis the First o f that
sage is to be taken literally or figura name, he was indignant at the impos
tively. Pasquier, Rech. de la France, ture, and commanded it to be stricken
Liv. V I. C h. 1 (thinking it is the out. H e was even excited to inter
King Hugh Capet that speaks), breaks dict the reading o f the book in his
forth in indignant protest as fol kingdom. But for my part, in order
lows : — to exculpate this author, I wish to say
“ From this you can perceive the that under the name o f Butcher he
fatality there was in this family from meant that Capet was son o f a great and
its beginning to its end, to the disad valiant warrior............I f Dante under
vantage o f the Carlovingians. And stood it thus, I forgive him ; i f other
moreover, how ignorant the Italian wise, he was a very ignorant poet.”
poet Dante was, when in his book Benvenuto says that the name o f
entitled Purgatory he says that our Capet comes from the fact that H ugh,
Hugh Capet was the son o f a butcher. in playing with his companions in boy
W hich word, once written erroneously hood, “ was in the habit o f pulling
and carelessly by him, has so crept off their caps and running away w ith
into the heads o f some simpletons, them.” Ducange repeats this story
that many who never investigated the from an old chronicle, and gives also
antiquities o f our France have fallen another and more probable origin o f
into this same heresy. F r a n c is de the name, as coming from the hood or
V illon , more studious o f taverns and cow l w hich Hugh was in the habit o f
ale-houses than o f good books, says in wearing.
some part o f his works, T h e belief that the family descended
‘ Si feusse les hoirs de Capet from a butcher was current in Italy in
Qui fut extrait de boucherie.” Dante’s time. V illani, I V . 3, says:
And since then Agrippa Alamanni, in “ Most people say that the father was
his book on the V anity o f Science, a great and rich burgher o f Paris, o f a
chapter O f Nobility, on this first igno race o f butchers or dealers in cattle.”
rance declares impudently against the 53. W hen the Carlovingian race
genealogy o f our Capet. I f Dante were all dead but one. And who was
304 Notes
he ? T h e Ottimo says it was Rudolph, in the square o f Naples by order o f

w ho became a monk and afterwards Charles o f Anjou, in 1268. V oltaire,
Archbishop o f Rheims. Benvenuto in his rhymed chronology at the end
gives no name, but says only “ a monk o f his Annales de VEmpire, says,
in poor, coarse garments.” Buti says “ C ’est en soixante-huit que la main d’un
the same. Daniello thinks it was some bourreau
Friar o f St. Francis, perhaps St. Louis, Dans Conradin son fils eteint un sang si
forgetting that these saints did not see beau.”
the light till some two centuries after Endeavoring to escape to Sicily after
the time here spoken of. Others say his defeat at T agliacozzo, he was car
Charles o f L orrain e; and Biagioli de ried to Naples and imprisoned in the
cides that it must be either Charles the Castel dell* U ovo. “ Christendom
Simple, who died a prisoner in the heard with horror,” says M ilm an, Lat.
castle o f Peronne, in 922 ; or Louis o f CbHst.y Book X I. Ch. 3, “ that the royal
Outre-M er, who was carried to England brother o f St. Louis, that the cham
by Hugh the Great, in 936. T h e Man pion o f the Church, after a mock trial,
in Cloth o f G ray remains as great a by the sentence o f one judge, Robert
mystery as the Man in the Iron Mask. di Lavena, — after an unanswerable
59. Hugh Capet was crowned at pleading by Guido de Suzaria, a fa
Rheims, in 987. T h e expression mous jurist, — had condemned the last
w hich follows shows clearly that it is heir o f the Swabian house — a rival
H ugh the Great w ho speaks, and not king w ho had fought gallantly for his
Hugh the founder o f the Capetian d y hereditary throne — to be executed as
nasty. a felon and a rebel on a public scaffold.
6 1. U ntil the shame o f the low ori So little did Conradin dread his fate,
gin o f the family was removed by the that, when his doom was announced,
marriage o f Charles o f Anjou, brother he was playing at chess with Frederick
o f Saint Louis, to the daughter o f Rai- o f Austria. * Slave/ said Conradin to
mond Berenger, w ho brought him Pro Robert o f Bari, who read the fatal sen
vence as her dower. tence, f do you dare to condemn as a
. 65. Making amends for one crime criminal the son and heir o f kings ?
by committing a greater. T h e partic K now s not your master that he is my
ular transaction here alluded to is the equal, not my judge ? * H e added, * I
seizing by fraud and holding by force am a mortal, and must d ie; yet ask the
these provinces in the time o f Philip kings o f the earth i f a prince be crimi
the Fair. nal for seeking to win back the heritage
67. Charles o f Anjou. o f his ancestors. But i f there be no
68. Curradino, or Conradin, son o f pardon for me, spare, at least, my faith
the Emperor Conrad IV ., a beautiful ful companions ; or i f they must die,
youth o f sixteen, who was beheaded strike me first, that I may not behold
Purgatorio xx. 305
their death.’ T h e y died devoutly, In the Vision o f Piers Ploughman,
nobly. Every circumstance aggravated there is a joust between Christ and the
the abhorrence ; it was said — perhaps foul fiend : —
it was the invention o f that abhorrence “ Thanne was Feith in a fenestre,
— that Robert o f Flanders, the brother And cryde a "fili D a v id ,
o f Charles, struck dead the judge who A s dooth an heraud o f armes,

W han aventrous cometh to justes.
had presumed to read the iniquitous
Old Jewes o f Jerusalem
sentence. W hen Conradin knelt, w ith For joye thei songen,
uplifted hands, awaiting the blow o f Benedictus qui •venit in nomine Domini.
the executioner, he uttered these last “ Thanne I frayned at Feith,
words, * O my mother ! how deep W h a t al that fare by-m ente,
will be thy sorrow at the news of this A n d who sholde juste in Jerusalem.
‘ Jhesus,’ he seide,
day ! * Even the followers o f Charles
* And fecche that the fend claym eth,
could hardly restrain their pity and in
Piers fruyt the Plowm an.’
dignation. W ith Conradin died his
young and valiant friend, Frederick o f “ ‘ W h o shal juste with Jhesus ?’ quod I,
Austria, the two Lancias, tw o o f the ‘ Jewes or scrybes ? ’
noble house o f Donaticcio o f Pisa. “ ‘ N ay,’ quod he 5 * T h e foule fend,
A n d fals doom and deeth.’ ”
T h e inexorable Charles would not per
mit them to be buried in consecrated 75. By the aid o f Charles o f Valois
ground.” the N eri party triumphed in Florence,
69. Thom as Aquinas, the Angelic and the Bianchi were banished, and
Doctor o f the Schools, died at the con with them Dante.
vent o f Fossa Nuova in the Campagna, 76. T h ere is an allusion here to the
being on his way to the Council o f nickname o f Charles o f Valois, Senza-
Lyons, in 1274. H e is supposed to terra, or Lackland.
have been poisoned by his physician, 79. Charles the Second, son o f
at the instigation o f Charles o f Anjou. Charles o f Anjou. H e went from
71. Charles o f V alois, w ho came France to recover Sicily after the Si
into Italy by invitation o f Boniface the cilian Vespers. In an engagement w ith
Eighth, in 1301. See I n f V I . 69. the Spanish fleet under Admiral Ru-
74. T here is in old French litera gieri d’ O ria, he was taken prisoner.
ture a poem entitled Le Tournoyement Dante says he sold his daughter, be
de PAntechrist, written by Hugues de cause he married her for a large sum
M ery, a monk o f the A bbey o f St. o f money to A zzo the Sixth o f Este.
Germ ain-des-Pres, in the thirteenth 82. JEneidy III. 56. “ Cursed thirst
century, in w hich he describes a battle o f gold, to what dost thou not drive
between the Virtues under the banner the hearts o f men.”
o f Christ, and the V ices under that o f 86. T h e flower-de-luce is in the
Antichrist. banner o f France. Borel, Tresor de
v o l . 11. 39
306 Notes
Recherches, cited by Roquefort, Glos- Fair at Alagna or Anagni, in 1303.

saire^ under the word Leye, says: “ T h e Milman, Lat. Christ., Book X I. Ch. 9,
oriflamme is so called from gold and thus describes the e v en t: —
flame ; that is to say, a lily o f the “ On a sudden, on the 7th Septem
marshes. T h e lilies are the arms o f ber (the 8th was the day for the publi
France in a field o f azure, w hich de cation o f the Bull), the peaceful streets
notes water, in memory that they (the o f Anagni were disturbed. T h e Pope
French) came from a marshy country. and the Cardinals, who were all assem
It is the most ancient and principal bled around him, were startled with
banner o f France, sown w ith these the trampling o f armed horse, and the
lilies, and was borne around our kings terrible cry, which ran like wildfire
on great occasions.” through the city, 'D eath to Pope Boni
Roquefort gives his own opinion face ! Long live the King o f France!*
as follows : “ T h e Franks, afterwards Sciarra Colonna, at the head o f three
called French, inhabited (before enter hundred horsemen, the Barons o f Cer-
ing Gaul properly so called) the en cano and Supino, and some others, the
virons o f the L ys, a river o f the L ow sons o f Master Massio o f Anagni, were
Countries, whose banks are still covered marching in furious haste, with the
with a kind of iris or flag o f a yellow banner o f the king o f France displayed.
color, w hich differs from the common T h e ungrateful citizens o f Anagni, for
lily and more nearly resembles the getful o f their pride in their holy com
flower-de-luce o f our arms. N ow it patriot, o f the honor and advantage to
seems to me very natural that the kings their town from the splendor and wealth
o f the Franks, having to choose a sym o f the Papal residence, received them
bol to w hich the name o f armorial with rebellious and acclaiming shouts.
bearings has since been given, should “ T h e bell o f the city, indeed, had
take in its composition a beautiful and tolled at the first alarm ; the burghers
remarkable flower, w hich they had had assembled ; they had chosen their
before their eyes, and that they should commander ; but that commander,
name it, from the place where it grew whom they ignorantly or treacherously
in abundance, flower o f the river Lys.” chose, was Arnulf, a deadly enemy o f
These are the lilies o f which D ray the Pope. T h e banner o f the Church
ton speaks in his Ballad o f Agincourt: — was unfolded against the Pope by the
“ ............when our grandsire great, captain o f the people o f Anagni. T h e
Claim ing the regal seat, first attack was on the palace o f the
By many a w arlike feat Pope, on that o f the Marquis Gaetani,
..-Lopped the French lilies.”
his nephew, and those o f three Cardi
87. T h is passage alludes to the seiz nals, the special partisans o f Boniface.
ure and imprisonment o f Pope Boniface T h e houses o f the Pope and o f his
the Eighth by the troops o f Philip the nephew made some resistance. The
Purgatorio xx. 307
doors of those o f the Cardinals were T h e y were plundered w ith such ra
beaten down, the treasures ransacked pacity that not a man escaped with a
and carried o ff; the Cardinals them farthing.
selves fled from the backs o f the houses “ T h e Marquis found him self com
through the common sewer. T h en pelled to surrender, on the condition
arrived, but not to the rescue, Arnulf, that his own life, that o f his family
the Captain o f the People ; he had and o f his servants, should be spared.
perhaps been suborned by Reginald o f A t these sad tidings the Pope wept
Supino. W ith him were the sons o f bitterly. T h e Pope was alone ; from
Chiton, whose father was pining in the first the Cardinals, some from
the dungeons of Boniface. Instead of treachery, some from cowardice, had
resisting, they joined the attack on the fled on all sides, even his most familiar
palace of the Pope’s nephew and his friends : they had crept into the most
own. T h e Pope and his nephew im ignoble hiding-places. T h e aged Pon
plored a truce ; it was granted for tiff alone lost not his self-command.
eight hours. T h is time the Pope em H e had declared him self ready to per
ployed in endeavoring to stir up the ish in his glorious cause; he deter
people to his defence ; the people mined to fall with dignity. * I f I am
coldly answered, that they were under betrayed like Christ, I am ready to die
the command o f their Captain. T h e like Christ.’ H e put on the stole o f
Pope demanded the terms o f the con St. Peter, the imperial crown was on
spirators. * I f the Pope would save his head, the keys o f St. Peter in one
his life, let him instantly restore the hand and the cross in the other : he
Colonna Cardinals to their dignity, took his seat on the Papal throne, and,
and reinstate the whole house in their like the Roman Senators o f old, await
honors and possessions ; after this ed the approach o f the Gaul.
restoration the Pope must abdicate, “ But the pride and cruelty of Boni
and leave his body at the disposal o f face had raised and infixed deep in the
Sciarra.’ T h e Pope groaned in the hearts o f men passions w hich acknowl
depths o f his heart. * T h e word is edged no awe o f age, o f intrepidity, or
spoken.* Again the assailants thun religious majesty. In W illiam o f N o-
dered at the gates o f the palace ; still garet the blood ot his Tolosan ances
there was obstinate resistance. The tors, in Colonna, the wrongs, the deg
principal church o f Anagni, that o f radation, the beggary, the exile o f all
Santa Maria, protected the Pope’s pal his house, had extinguished every feel
ace. Sciarra Colonna’s lawless band ing but revenge. T h e y insulted him
set fire to the gates; the church was with contumelious reproaches; they
crowded w ith clergy and laity and menaced his life. T h e Pope answered
traders who had brought their pre not a word. T h e y insisted that he
cious wares into the sacred building. should at once abdicate the Papacy.
3o8 Notes
* Behold my neck, behold my head/ overawed, now gorged w ith plunder,

was the only reply. But fiercer words and doubtless not unwilling to w ith
passed between the Pope and W illiam draw. T h e Pope was rescued, and
o f Nogaret. Nogaret threatened to led out into the street, where the old
drag him before the Council o f Lyons, man addressed a few words to the peo
where he should be deposed from the ple : * Good men and women, ye see
Papacy. * Shall I suffer m yself to be how mine enemies have come upon
degraded and deposed by Paterins like me, and plundered my goods, those o f
thee, whose fathers were righteously the Church and o f the poor. N ot a
burned as Paterins ? ’ W illiam turned morsel o f bread have I eaten, not a
fiery red, with shame thought the par drop have I drunk, since my capture.
tisans of Boniface, more likely w ith I am almost dead w ith hunger. If
wrath. Sciarra, it was said, would any good woman w ill give me a piece
have slain him outrigh t; he was pre o f bread and a cup o f wine, i f she has
vented by some o f his own followers, no wine, a little water, I w ill absolve
even by Nogaret. ‘ W retched Pope, her, and any one who w ill give me
even at this distance the goodness o f their alms, from all their sins.’ T h e
my Lord the King guards thy life.* compassionate rabble burst into a cry,
“ H e was placed under close cus ‘ Long life to the Pope ! * T h e y car
tody, not one o f his own attendants ried him back to his naked palace.
permitted to approach him. Worse T h e y crowded, the women especially,
indignities awaited him. H e was set with provisions, bread, meat, water,
on a vicious horse, with his face to the and wine. T h e y could not find a sin
tail, and so led through the town to gle vessel : they poured a supply o f
his place o f imprisonment. T h e palr water into a chest. T h e Pope pro
aces o f the Pope and o f his nephew claimed a general absolution to all
were plundered ; so vast was the except the plunderers o f his palace.
w ealth, that the annual revenues o f H e even declared that he wished to be
all the kings in the world would not at peace with the Colonnas and all his
have been equal to the treasures found enemies. T h is perhaps was to disguise
and carried off by Sciarra’s freeboot- his intention o f retiring, as soon as he
ing soldiers. His very private cham could, to Rome.
ber was ransacked ; nothing left but “ T h e Romans had heard w ith in
bare walls. dignation the sacrilegious attack on the
“ A t length the people o f Anagni person o f the Supreme Pontiff. Four
could no longer bear the insult and the hundred horse under Matteo and G ae
sufferings heaped upon their illustrious tano Orsini were sent to conduct him
and holy fellow-citizen. T h e y rose to the city. H e entered it almost in
in irresistible insurrection, drove out triumph ; the populace welcomed him
the soldiers by whom they had been w ith every demonstration o f joy. But
Purgatorio xx. 309
the awe o f his greatness was go n e; the “ T h e religious mind o f Christen

spell o f his dominion over the minds dom was at once perplexed and hor
o f men was broken. His overweening ror-stricken by this act o f sacrilegious
haughtiness and domination had made violence on the person o f the Supreme
him many enemies in the Sacred C o l P on tiff; it shocked some even o f the
lege, the gold o f France had made him sternest Ghibellines. Dante, who
more. T h is general revolt is his se brands the pride, the avarice, the
verest condemnation. Am ong his first treachery o f Boniface in his most ter
enemies was the Cardinal Napoleon rible words, and has consigned him to
Orsini. Orsini had followed the tri the direst doom, (though it is true that
umphal entrance o f the Pope. Boni his alliance w ith the French, w ith
face, to show that he desired to recon Charles o f Valois, by whom the poet
cile him self w ith all, courteously in had been driven into exile, was among
vited him to his table, T h e Orsini the deepest causes o f his hatred to
coldly answered, ‘ that he must receive Boniface,) nevertheless expresses the
the Colonna Cardinals into his fa vo r; almost universal feeling. Christendom
he must not now disown what had shuddered to behold the Fleur-de-lis
been wrung from him by compulsion.* enter into Anagni, and Christ again cap
‘ I w ill pardon them / said Boniface, tive in his V icar, the mockery, the gall
* but the mercy o f the Pope is not to 3nd vinegar, the crucifixion between
be from compulsion.* H e found him^ living robbers, the insolent and sacri
self again a prisoner. legious cruelty o f the second Pilate.”
“ T h is last mortification crushed the Compare this scene w ith that o f his
bodily, i f not the mental strength o f inauguration as Pope, I n f X IX . Note 53.
the Pope. Am ong the Ghibellines 9 1. T h is “ modern P ila te” is P hil
terrible stories were bruited abroad o f ip the Fair, and the allusion in the
his death. In an access o f fury, either following lines is to the persecution
from poison or wounded pride, he sat and suppression o f the Order o f the
gnawing the top o f his staff, and at Knights Tem plars, in 1 3 0 7 - 1 3 1 2 .
length either beat out his own brains See Milman, Lat. Christ., Book X II.
against the w all, or smothered himself C h. 2, and V illani, V I I I , 92, who says
(a strange notion !) w ith his own pil the act was committed per cupidigia di
lows. M ore friendly, probably more guadagnare, for love o f gain ; and says
trustworthy, accounts describe him as also : “ T h e king o f France and his
sadly but quietly breathing his last, children had afterwards much shame
surrounded by eight Cardinals, having and adversity, both on account o f this
confessed the faith and received the sin and on account o f the seizure o f
consoling offices o f the Church. T h e Pope Boniface.”
Cardinal-Poet anticipates his mild sen 97. W hat he was saying o f the V ir
tence from the D ivine Judge. gin M ary, line 19.
3io Notes
103. T h e brother o f Dido and when Heliodorus, the treasurer o f

murderer o f her husband. JEneid, I. K ing Seleucus, went there to remove
350 : “ H e, impious and blinded with the treasure. 2 Maccabees iii. 25 :
the love o f gold, having taken Sichaeus “ For there appeared unto them an
by surprise, secretly assassinates him horse w ith a terrible rider upon
before the altar, regardless o f his sis him, and adorned with a very fair
ter’s great affection.” covering, and he ran fiercely, and
106. T h e Phrygian king, w ho, for smote at Heliodorus with his fore
his hospitality to Silenus, was endowed feet, and it seemed that he that sat
by Bacchus w ith the fatal power o f upon the horse had complete harness
turning all he touched to gold. T h e o f gold.”
most laughable thing about him was 115 . JEneid, III. 49, Davidson’s
his wearing ass’s ears, as a punishment T r . : “ T h is Poly dore unhappy Priam
for preferring the music o f Pan to that hacf formerly sent in secrecy, with a
o f Apollo. great weight o f gold, to be brought up
O vid, X I., C roxall’s T r . : — by the king o f T h race, when he now
“ Pan tuned the pipe, and with his rural song began to distrust the arms o f T r o y , and
Pleased the low taste o f all the vulgar throng; saw the city with close siege blocked
Such songs a vulgar judgment mostly please : up. H e, [Polym nestor,] as soon as
Midas was there, and Midas judged with the power o f the Trojans was crushed,
these.”
and their fortune gone, espousing Aga
See also Hawthorne’s story o f The memnon’s interest and victorious arms,
Golden Touch in his Wonder-Book. breaks every sacred bond, assassinates
109. Joshua vii. 2 1: “ W hen I saw Polydore, and by violence possesses his
among the spoils a goodly Babylonish gold. Cursed thirst o f gold, to what
garment, and two hundred shekels o f dost thou not drive the hearts o f
silver, and a wedge o f gold o f fifty men ! ”
shekels weight, then I coveted them, 116. Lucinius Crassus, surnamed
and took them ; and behold, they are the R ich. H e was Consul with Pom-
hid in the earth in the midst o f my pey, and on one occasion displayed his
tent, and the silver under it.” vast wealth by giving an entertainment
112. Acts v. 1, 2: “ But a certain to the populace, at w hich the guests
man named Ananias, w ith Sapphira w ere so numerous that they occupied
his w ife, sold a possession, and kept ten thousand tables. H e was slain in a
back part o f the price, his wife also battle with the Parthians, and his head
being privy to it, and brought a cer was sent to the Parthian king, H yrodes,
tain part, and laid it at the apostles’ who had molten gold poured down its
feet.” throat. Plutarch does not mention this
113. T h e hoof-beats o f the miracu circumstance in his L ife o f Crassus, but
lous horse in the Tem ple o f Jerusalem, says : —
Purgatorio xxi. 311
“ W hen the head o f Crassus was “ A n d w hy only

brought to the door, the tables were T h ou dost renew these praises w ell deserved ? ”
just taken away, and one Jason, a tragic 128. T h e occasion o f this quaking
actor o f the town o f T ralles, was sing o f the mountain is given, Canto X X I.
ing the scene in the Bacchse o f Eurip 5 8 :-
ides concerning Agave. H e was re “ It trembles here, whenever any soul
ceiving much applause, when Sillaces Feels itself pure, so that it soars, or moves
coming to the room, and having made T o mount aloft, and such a cry attends it.”
obeisance to the king, threw down the 130. An island in the iEgean Sea,
head o f Crassus into the midst o f the in the centre o f the Cyclades. It was
company. T h e Parthians receiving it thrown up by an earthquake, in order
with joy and acclamations, Sillaces, by to receive Latona, when she gave birth
the king’s command, was made to sit to Apollo and Diana, — the Sun and
down, while Jason handed over the the Moon.
costume o f Pentheus to one o f the dan 136. Luke ii. 13, 1 4 : “ And sud
cers in the chorus, and taking up the denly there was with the angel a multi
head o f Crassus, and acting the part o f tude o f the heavenly host, praising
a bacchante in her frenzy, in a rap G od, and saying, G lory to God in the
turous, impassioned manner, sang the highest, and on earth peace, good w ill
lyric passages, toward men.”
* W e ’ve hunted down a m ighty chase to-day,
140. G ow er, Conf. Amant., III. 5 : —
And from the mountain bring the noble “ W hen Goddes sone also was bore,
prey.’ ” H e sent his aungel down therfore,
W hom the shepherdes herden singe :
122. T h is is in answer to D ante’s Pees to the men of'w elw illinge
question, line 35 : — In erthe be amonge us here.”
C A N T O XXI.
1. T h is canto is devoted to the in water, that I thirst not, neither come
terview w ith the poet Statius, whose hither to draw .”
release from punishment was announced 7. Luke xxiv. 1 3 - 1 5 : “ And, behold,
by the earthquake and the outcry at the two o f them went that same day to a
end o f the last canto. village called Emmaus, w hich was from
3. John iv. 14, 1 5 : “ Whosoever Jerusalem about threescore furlongs.
drinketh o f the water that I shall give And they talked together o f all these
him, shall never thirst............T h e w o things w hich had happened. And it
man saith unto him , Sir, give me this came to pass, that, w hile they com
312 Notes
muned together and reasoned, Jesus 40. N othing unusual ever disturbs
him self drew near, and went with the religio loci, the sacredness o f the
them .” mountain.
15. Among the monks o f the M id 44. T h is happens only when the
dle Ages there were certain salutations, soul, that came from heaven, is re
which had their customary replies or ceived back into heaven ; not from
countersigns. Thus one would say, any natural causes affecting earth or
“ Peace be with th e e !” and the an air.
swer would be, “ And with thy sp irit!” 48. T h e gate o f Purgatory, w hich
O r, “ Praised be the Lord ! ” and the is also the gate o f Heaven.
answer, “ W orld without end ! ” 50. Iris, one o f the Oceanides, the
22. T h e letters upon Dante’s fore daughter o f Thaumas an dE lectra; the
head. rainbow.
25. Lachesis. O f the three Fates, 6^. T h e soul in Purgatory feels as
C lotho prepared and held the distaff, great a desire to be punished for a sin,
Lachesis spun the thread, and Atropos as it had to commit it.
cut it. 82. T h e siege o f Jerusalem under
“ T h ese,” says Plato, Republic, X ., T itu s, surnamed the “ D elight o f
“ are the daughters o f Necessity, the M ankind,” took place in the year 70.
Fates, Lachesis, Clotho, and Atropos ; Statius, who is here speaking, was born
w ho, clothed in white robes, w ith gar at Naples in the reign o f Claudius, and
lands on their heads, chant to the had already become famous “ under the
music o f the S iren s; Lachesis the name that most endures and honors,”
events o f the Past, Clotho those o f the that is, as a poet. H is works are the
Present, Atropos those o f the Future.” Silvte, or miscellaneous p o em s; the
33. See Canto X V I I I . 46 : — Thebaid, an epic in twelve books ; and
“ W hat reason seeth here, the Achilliidy left un^nished. H e wrote
M y se lf can tell thee ; beyond that await also a tragedy, Agave, w hich is lost.
For Beatrice, s in c e ’t is a w ork of faith.” Juvenal says o f him, Satire V I I .,
So also C ow ley, in his poem on the D ryden’s T r . : —
Use o f Reason in Divine M atters: —
“ A ll Rom e is pleased when Statius w ill re
“ Though Reason cannot through Faith’s mys hearse,
teries see, A n d longing crowds expect the promised verse;
It sees that there and such they be ; His lofty numbers with so great a gust
Leads to heaven’s door, and there does hum bly T h e y hear, and swallow with such eager lust:
keep, B ut w hile the common suffrage crowned his
A n d there through chinks and keyholes peepj cause,
T h ou gh it, lik e Moses, by a sad command A n d broke the benches w ith their loud ap
M ust not come into the H oly Land, plause,
Y e t thither it infallibly does guide, H is M use had starved, had not a piece unread,
A n d from a fa r ’t is all descried.” A n d by a player bought, supplied her bread.”
Purgatorio xxn. 313
Dante shows his admiration o f him Landino thinks that Dante’s error
by placing him here. may be traced to Placidus Lactantius,
89. Statius was not born in T o u a commentator o f the Thebaidy who
louse, as Dante supposes, but in N a confounded Statius the poet o f Naples
ples, as he him self states in his S ilva , w ith Statius the rhetorician o f T o u
which work was not discovered till louse.
after Dante’s death. T h e passage oc 101. W ould be w illing to remain
curs in Book III. Eclogue V ., To Clau another year in Purgatory.
dia his Wife, where he describes the 114. Petrarca uses the same expres
beauties o f Parthenope, and calls her sion, — the lightning o f the angelic
the mother and nurse o f both, ambo- smile, il lampeggiar dell 1 angelico riso.
rum genetrix altrixque. 13 1. See Canto X IX . 133.
C A N T O XXII.
i
1. T h e ascent to the Sixth C ir “ T h ese from the sepulchre shall rise again
cle, where the sin o f G luttony is pun W ith the fist closed, and these w ith tresses
shorn.”
ished. /
5. JMatthew v. 6 : “ Blessed are they 56. H er two sons, Eteocles and Pol-
_whi<?n do hunger and thirst after right ynices, o f whom Statius sings in the
eousness ; for they shall be filled.” Thebaidy and to whom Dante alludes
13. T h e satirist Juvenal, w ho flour by way o f illustration, I n f X X V I . 54.
ished at Rome during the last h alf o f See also the Note.
the first century *)f the Christian era, 58. Statius begins the Thebaid w ith
and died at the beginning o f the sec an invocation to C lio , the Muse o f
ond, aged eighty. H e was a contem H istory, whose office it was to record
porary o f Statius, and survived him the heroic actions o f brave men, I.
some thirty years. 55: —
40. jEneidy III. 5 6 : ff O cursed
“ W h at first, O Clio, shall adorn thy page,
hunger o f gold, to what dost thou not T h e expiring prophet, or Êtolian’s rage ?
drive the hearts o f men.” Say, w ilt thou sing how, grim w ith hostile
42. T h e punishment o f the A vari blood,
cious and Prodigal. I n f V I I . 26: — Hippomedon repelled the rushing flood,
Lam ent the Arcadian youth’s untimely fate,
u W ith great howls
O r Jove, opposed by Capaneus, relate ? ”
R ollin g weights forward by main force o f chest.”
46. Dante says o f the Avaricious Skelton, Elegy on the E arl o f North
and Prodigal, I n f V I I . 56 : — umberland : —
vol . 11. 40
3H Notes
“ O f hevenly poems, O Clyo calde by name But w h y does Dante make no mention
In the college o f musis goddess hystoriale.” here o f “ .#)schylus the thunderous ”
63. Saint Peter. and “ Sophocles the royal ” ?
70. V irgil’s Bucolics, Eel. IV . 5, a Antiphon was a tragic and epic poet
passage supposed to foretell the birth o f o f Attica, who was put to death by
C h rist: “ T h e last era o f Cumaean song Dionysius because he would not praise
is now arrived; the great series o f ages the tyrant’s writings. Some editions
begins anew ; now the Virgin returns, read Anacreon for Antiphon.
returns the Saturnian r e ig n ; now a 107. Simonides, the poet o f Cos,
new progeny is sent down from the w ho won a poetic prize at the age o f
high heaven.” eighty, and is said to be the first poet
92. T h e Fourth C ircle o f Purga who wrote for money.
tory, where Sloth is punished. Canto Agatho was an Athenian dramatist,
X V I I. 85: — o f wAom nothing remains but the name
“ T h e love o f good, remiss and a few passages quoted in other
In what it should have done, is here restored j writers.
Here plied again the ill-belated oar.” n o . Some o f the people that Sta
97. Some editions read in this line, tius introduces into his poems. An
instead o f nostro amico, — nostro antico, tigone, daughter o f CEdipus; D eiphile,
our ancient T e re n ce ; but the epithet wife o fT id e u s ; Argia, her sister, wife
would be more appropriate to Plautus, o f Polynices; Ismene, another daughter
who was the earlier writer. o f CEdipus, who is here represented
97, 98. Plautus, Caecilius, and T e r as still lamenting the death o f A tys,
ence, the three principal Latin drama her betrothed.
tists; Varro, “ the most learned o f the 112. H ypsipile, who pointed out to
Romans,” the friend o f C icero, and Adrastus the fountain o f Langia, when
author o f some five hundred volumes, his soldiers were perishing with thirst
which made St. Augustine wonder how on their march against Thebes.
he who wrote so many books could 113. O f the daughters o f Tiresias
find time to read so m any; and how Manto is the only one mentioned by
he who read so many could find time Statius in the Thebaid. But Dante
to write so many. places Manto among the Soothsayers,
100. Persius, the Latin satirist. I n f X X . 55, and not in Lim bo. Had
101. Homer. he forgotten this ?
106. Mrs. Browning, Wine o f Cy 113, 114. T hetis, the mother o f
prus : — Achilles, and Deidamia, the daughter
o f Lycomedes. T h e y are among the
“ Our Euripides, the human, —
personages in the Acbilleid o f Statius.
W ith his droppings o f warm tears;
And his touches o f things common, 118. Four hours o f the day were
T ill they rose to touch the spheres.” already passed.
Purgatorio xxn. 315
131. C o w ley , 7"be Tree o f Knowl Ere sails were spread, new oceans to explore 5
edge : — A n d happy mortals, unconcerned for more,
Confined their wishes to their native shore.
** T h e sacred tree ’midst the fair orchard grew, N o walls were y e t : nor fence, nor mote, nor
T h e phoenix Truth did on it rest mound,
And built his perfumed nest, N or drum was heard, nor trumpet’s angry sound:
Th a t right Porphyrian tree w hich did true N or swords were forged j but, void o f care and
Logic show ; crime,
Each lea f did learned notions give T h e soft creation slept away their time.
A n d th ’ apples were demonstrative j T h e teeming earth, yet guiltless o f the plough,
So clear their color and divine A n d unprovoked, did fruitful stores allow :
T h e very shade they cast did other lights Content with food, which nature freely bred,
outshine.” O n wildings and on strawberries they fed 5
T h is tree o f Tem ptation, however, Cornels and bramble-berries gave the rest,
And falling acorns furnished out a feast.
is hardly the tree o f Know ledge, though
T h e flowers unsown in fields and meadows
sprung from it, as Dante says o f the
reigned 5
next, in Canto X X I V . 117. It is meant A n d western winds immortal spring maintained.
only to increase the torment o f the starv In following years, the bearded corn ensued
ing souls beneath it, by holding its fresh From earth unasked, nor was that earth re
and dewy fruit beyond their reach. newed.
From veins o f valleys m ilk and nectar broke,
142. John ii. 3 : “ And when they
A n d honey sweating through the pores o f o a k .”
wanted w ine, the mother o f Jesus saith
unto him, T h e y have no w ine.” Also Boethius, Book II. M et. 5, and
146. Daniel i. 12: “ Prove thy ser the Ode in Tasso’s Aminta, Leigh H unt’s
vants, I beseech thee, ten days ; and T r ., beginning : —
let them give us pulse to eat and water “ O lovely age o f gold !
to drink............And Daniel had under N ot that the rivers rolled
standing in all visions and dreams.” W ith m ilk , or that the woods wept honey-
148. Compare the description o f dew ;
N ot that the ready ground
the Golden Age in O vid, M et., I .: —
Produced without a wound,
** T h e golden age was first j when man, yet Or the mild serpent had no tooth that slew j
new, N ot that a cloudless blue
N o rule but uncorrupted reason k n ew , v Forever was in sight,
A n d , with a native bent, did good pursue. O r that the heaven w hich burns,
Unforced by punishment, unawed by fear, A n d now is cold by turns,
His words were simple, and his soul sincere; Looked out in glad and everlasting lig h t ;
Needless was written law , where none opprest: N o, nor that even the insolent ships from far
T h e law o f man was written in his b reast: Brought war to no new lands, nor riches
N o suppliant crowds before the judge appeared, worse than w a r :
No court erected yet, nor cause was heard :
But all was safe, for conscience was their guard. “ But solely that that vain
T h e mountain-trees in distant prospect please, A n d breath-invented pain,
Ere yet the pine descended to the seasj T h a t idol o f m istake, that worshipped cheat,
3*6 Notes
T h a t Honor, — since so called dent bees form their commonwealths,

By vulgar minds appalled, — offering to every hand, without usury,
Played not the tyrant w ith our nature yet.
the fertile produce of their most deli
It had not come to fret
cious toil. T h e stout cork-trees, w ith
T h e sweet and happy fold
O f gentle hum an-kind j out any other inducement than that o f
Nor did its hard law bind their own courtesy, divested themselves
Souls nursed in freedom j but that law o f o f their light and expanded bark, w ith
gold, w hich men began to cover their houses,
T h a t glad and golden law, all free, all fitted,
supported by rough poles, only for a
W h ich Nature’s own hand wrote, — W hat
defence against the inclemency o f the
pleases, is permitted.”
seasons. A ll then was peace, all ami
Also D on Q uixote’s address to the ty, all concord. As yet the heavy
goatherds, Don 'uix., Book II. C h. 3, coulter o f the crooked plough had not
Jarvis’s T r . : — dared to force open, and search into,
“ After Don Quixote had satisfied the tender bowels o f our first mother,
his hunger, he took up an handful o f who unconstrained offered, from every
acorns, and, looking on them atten part o f her fertile and spacious bosom,
tively, gave utterance to expressions whatever might feed, sustain, and de
like th ese: — light those her children, who then
“ * H appy times, and happy ages ! had her in possession. T h en did the
those to w hich the ancients gave the simple and beauteous young shepherd
name o f golden, not because gold esses trip it from dale to dale, and from
(w hich, in this our iron age, is so hill to hill, their tresses sometimes plait
much esteemed) was to be had, in ed, sometimes loosely flowing, with
that fortunate period, without toil and no more clothing than was necessary
labor ; but because they w ho then modestly to cover what modesty has
lived were ignorant o f these two always required to be concealed ; nor
words, Meum and Tuum . In that were there ornaments like those now-
age o f innocence, all things were in a-days in fashion, to w hich the T yrian
common ; no one needed to take any purple and the so-many-ways martyred
other pains for his ordinary sustenance, silk give a value ; but composed o f
than to lift up his hand and take it green dock-leaves and ivy interwoven ;
from the sturdy oaks, w hich stood in w ith w hich, perhaps, they went as
viting him liberally to taste o f their splendidly and elegantly decked as our
sweet and relishing fruit. T h e limpid court-ladies do now, with all those
fountains, and running streams, offered rare and foreign inventions w hich idle
them, in magnificent abundance, their curiosity hath taught them. T h en
delicious and transparent waters. In were the amorous conceptions o f the
the clefts o f rocks, and in the hollow soul clothed in simple and sincere ex
o f trees, did the industrious and provi pressions, in the same w ay and manner
Purgatorio xxm. 31 7
they were conceived, without seeking so much depreciate, confound, and per
artificial phrases to set them off. N or secute her, not daring then to disturb
as yet were fraud, deceit, and malice or offend her. As yet the judge did
intermixed w ith truth and plain-deal not make his own w ill the measure o f
ing. Justice kept within her proper ju stic e ; for then there was neither
bounds; favor and interest, w hich now cause nor person to be judged.’ ”
C A N T O XXIII.
I. T h e punishment o f the sin o f Receives refreshments, and refreshments craves.

Gluttony. Food raises a desire for food, and meat
Is but a new provocative to eat.
3. Shakespeare, 4 s You Like It, II.
H e grows more empty as the more supplied,
7 :— A n d endless cramming but extends the void.”
“ Under the shade o f m elancholy boughs
Lose and neglect the creeping hours o f tim e.,? 30. T h is tragic tale o f the siege of
II. Psalms li. 15 : “ O L ord, open Jerusalem by Titus is thus told in Jo
thou my lips ; and my mouth shall sephus, Jewish War, Book V I . C h . 3,
show forth thy praise.” W histon’s T r . ; —
26. Erisichthon the Thessalian, who “ T h ere was a certain woman that
in derision cut down an ancient oak in dwelt beyond Jordan; her name was
the sacred groves o f Ceres. H e was M ary ; her father was Eleazar, o f the
punished by perpetual hunger, till, village Bethezub, which signifies the
other food failing him, at last he house o f Hyssop. She was eminent
gnawed his own flesh. O vid, Met. for her family and her wealth, and
V I I I ., Vernon’s T r .: — had fled away to Jerusalem with the
“ Straight he requires, impatient in demand, rest o f the multitude, and was w ith
Provisions from the air, the seas, the land j them besieged therein at this time.
But though the lat)d, air, seas, provisions grant, T h e other effects o f this woman had
Starves at fu ll tables, and complains o f want.
been already seized upon, such I mean
W h at to a people m ight in dole be paid,
as she had brought with her out o f
Or victual cities for a long blockade,
Could not one wolfish appetite assuage ; Perea, and removed to the city. W hat
For glutting nourishment increased its rage. she had treasured up besides, as also
A s rivers poured from every distant shore what food she had contrived to save,
T h e sea insatiate drinks, and thirsts for more j had been also carried off by the rapa
O r as the fire, w hich all materials burns,
cious guards, who came every day run
And wasted forests into ashes turns,
ning into her house for that purpose.
Grows more voracious as the more it preys,
Recruits dilate the flame, and spread the b la ze: T h is put the poor woman into a very
So impious Erisichthon’s hunger raves, great passion, and by the frequent re
318 Notes
proaches and imprecations she cast at ened her that they would cut her throat
these rapacious villains, she had pro immediately, i f she did not show them
voked them to anger against her ; but what food she had gotten ready. She
none o f them, either out o f the indig replied, that she had saved a very fine
nation she had raised against herself, portion o f it for them ; and withal
or out o f commiseration o f her case, uncovered what was left o f her son.
would take away her life. And i f she Hereupon they were seized with a hor
found any food, she perceived her la ror and amazement o f mind, and stood
bors were for others and not for her astonished at the sight, when she said
self ; and it was now become impos to them : * T h is is mine own son, and
sible for her any way to find any more what hath been done was mine own
food, while the famine pierced through doing. Com e, eat o f this food ; for
her very bowels and marrow, when I have eaten o f it myself. D o not
also her passion was fired to a degree you’pretend to be either more tender
beyond the famine itself. N or did she than a woman, or more compassionate
consult with anything but with her than a mother. But i f you be so
passion and the necessity she was in. scrupulous, and do abominate this my
She then attempted a most unnatural sacrifice, as I have eaten the one half,
thing, and, snatching up her son who let the rest be reserved for me also/
was a child sucking at her breast, she A fter w hich those men went out tremT
said, ‘ O thou miserable infant! For bling, being never so much affrighted
whom shall I preserve thee in this at anything as they were at this, and
war, this famine, and this sedition ? w ith some difficulty they left the rest
As to the war with the Romans, i f they o f that meat to the mother. Upon
preserve our lives, we must be slaves. w hich the whole city was full o f this
T h is famine also w ill destroy us, even horrid action immediately ; and w hile
before that slavery comes upon us. everybody laid this miserable case be
Y et are these seditious rogues more fore their own eyes, they trembled as
terrible than both the other. Come i f this unheard o f action had been done
on, be thou my food, and be thou a by themselves. So those that were
fury to these seditious varlets, and a thus distressed by the famine were very
byword to the w o r ld ; which is all desirous to die, and those already dead
that is now wanting to complete the were esteemed happy, because they
calamities o f the Jews.* A s soon as had not lived long enough either to
she had said this, she slew her son, and hear or to see such miseries.”
then roasted him, and ate the one half 3 1 . Shakespeare, King Lear,V . 3 : —
o f him, and kept the other half by her “ And in this habit
concealed. Upon this the seditious M et I my father w ith his bleeding rings,
came in presently, and, smelling the T h e ir precious stones new lost.”
horrid scent o f this food, they threatT 32. In this fanciful recognition of
Purgatorio xxm. 319
the word omo (homo, man) in the hu ow n, and that he has created you!
man face, so written as to place the two N o w read me an 0 and an m and an
0’s between the outer strokes o f the m, other 0 together ; that spells homo.
the former represent the eyes, and the T h en read me a d and an e and an i
latter the nose and cheekbones: together ; that spells dei. Homo dei,
man o f G od, man o f God ! ”
48. Forese Donati, the brother-in-
law and intimate friend o f Dante.
Brother Berthold, a Franciscan monk “ T h is Forese,” says Buti, “ was a citi
o f Regensburg, in the thirteenth cen zen o f Florence, and was brother o f
tury, makes the following allusion to it Messer Corso Donati, and was very
in one o f his sermons. See Wacker- gluttonous; and therefore the author
nagel, Deutsches Lesebuch, I. 678. T h e feigns that he found him here, where
monk carries out the resemblance into the Gluttons are punished.”
still further d e ta il: — Certain vituperative sonnets, ad
“ N ow behold, ye blessed children dressed to Dante, have been attributed
o f G od, the Alm ighty has created you to Forese. I f authentic, they prove
soul and body. And he has written it that the friendship between the two
under your eyes and on your faces, that poets was not uninterrupted. See
you are created in his likeness. H e has Rossetti, Early Italian Poets, Appendix
written it upon your very faces w ith to Part II.
ornamented letters. W ith great dili 74. T h e same desire that sacrifice
gence are they embellished and orna and atonement may be complete.
mented. T h is your learned men w ell 75. M atthew xxvii. 46 : “ E li, E li,
understand, but the unlearned may not lama sabacthani ? that is to say, M y
understand it. T h e two eyes are two G od, my G od, w hy hast thou forsaken
o’s. T h e h is properly no letter; it on me ? ”
ly helps the others; so that homo with 83. Outside the gate o f Purgatory,
an h means Man. Likew ise the brows where those who had postponed re
arched above, and the nose down be pentance till the last hour were forced
tween them are an m, beautiful with to wait as many years and days as they
three strokes. So is the ear a d, beauti had lived impenitent on earth, unless
fully rounded and ornamented. So are aided by the devout prayers o f those
the nostrils beautifully formed like a on earth. See Canto IV .
Greek e, beautifully rounded and orna 87. N ella, contraction o f Giovan-
mented. So is the mouth an i, beauti nella, w idow o f Forese. Nothing is
fully adorned and ornamented. N o w known o f this good woman but the
behold, ye good Christian people, how name, and what Forese here says in
skilfully he has adorned you w ith these her praise.
six letters, to show that ye are his 94. Covino, Descriz. Geograf. dell’
320 Notes
Italia, p. 52, says: <f In the district off their breeches, w hich from their
o f Arborea, on the slopes o f the Gen- smallness may easily be done, all is off,
nargentu, the most vast and lofty for they literally stick their posteriors
mountain range o f Sardinia, spreads an into a pair o f socks and expend a yard
alpine country w hich in Dante’s time, o f cloth on their wristbands, while
being almost barbarous, was called the more stuff is put into a glove than a
Barbagia cloak-hood. H ow ever, I am comforted
102. Sacchetti, the Italian novelist by one thing, and that is, that all now
o f the fourteenth century, severely have begun to put their feet in chains,
criticises the fashions o f the Floren perhaps as a penance for the many
tines, and their sudden changes, w hich vain things they are guilty o f ; for we
he says it would take a whole vol are but a day in this w orld, and in that
ume o f his stories to enumerate. In day the fashion is changed a thousand
N ov. 178, he speaks o f their wearing tiiAes : all seek liberty, yet all deprive
their dresses “ far below their arm themselves o f i t : G od has made our
pits,” and then “ up to their ea rs” ; feet free, and many w ith long pointed
and continues, in N apier’s version, toes to their shoes can scarcely walk :
Flor. Hist., II. 539: — he has supplied the legs w ith hinges,
" T h e young Florentine girls, w ho and many have so bound them up w ith
used to dress so modestly, have now close lacing that they can scarcely s i t :
changed the fashion o f their hoods to the bust is tightly bandaged up ; the
resemble courtesans, and thus attired arms trail their drapery a lo n g; the
they move about laced up to the throat, throat is rolled in a capuchin ; the
w ith all sorts o f animals hanging as head so loaded and bound round with
ornaments about their necks. T h eir caps over the hair that it appears as
sleeves, or rather their sacks, as they though it were sawed off. And thus
should be called, — was there ever so I might go on forever discoursing o f
useless and pernicious a fashion ! Can female absurdities, commencing with
any o f them reach a glass or take a the immeasurable trains at their feet,
morsel from the table without dirtying and proceeding regularly upwards to
herself or the cloth by the things she the head, with w hich they may always
knocks down? And thus do the young be seen occupied in their cham bers;
men, and worse ; and such sleeves are some curling, some smoothing, and
made even for sucking babes. The some whitening it, so that they often
women go about in hoods and cloaks ; kill themselves w ith colds caught in
most o f the young men without cloaks, these vain occupations.”
in long, flowing hair, and i f they throw 132. Statius.
Pttrgatorio xxiv. 321
C A N T O XXIV.
I. Continuation o f the punishment “ Gaudent anguillae, quod mortuus hie jacet ille
o f Gluttony. Qui quasi m orte reas excoriabat eas.”
7. Continuing the words w ith w hich “ Martin the Fourth,” says Milman,
the preceding canto closes, and refer Hist. Lat. C h r i s t V I. 143, “ was born
ring to Statius. at Mont Pence in Brie ; he had been
10. Piccarda, sister o f Forese and Canon o f Tours. He put on at first
Corso Donati. She was a nun o f Santa the show o f maintaining the lofty char
Clara, and is seen by Dante in the acter o f the Churchman. H e ex
first heaven o f Paradise, w hich Forese communicated the Viterbans for their
calls “ high Olym pus.” See Par. III. sacrilegious maltreatment o f the Cardi
49, where her story is told more in nals; Rinaldo Annibaldeschi, the Lord
detail. o f V iterbo, was compelled to ask par
19. Buonagiunta Urbisani o f Lucca don on his knees o f the Cardinal Ros
is one o f the early minor poets o f Italy, so, and forgiven only at the interven
a contemporary o f Dante. Rossetti, tion o f the Pope. Martin the Fourth
Early Italian Poets, 77, gives some retired to Orvieto.
specimens o f his sonnets and canzoni. “ But the Frenchman soon began to
A ll that is known o f him is contained predominate over the P on tiff; he sunk
in Benvenuto’s b rief notice : “ Buona into the vassal o f Charles o f Anjou.
giunta o f Urbisani, an honorable man T h e great policy o f his predecessor, to
o f the city o f Lucca, a brilliant orator assuage the feuds o f Guelph and Ghib-
in his mother tongue, a facile producer elline, was an Italian policy ; it was
o f rhymes, and still more facile con altogether abandoned. T h e G h ib el
sumer o f wines ; who knew our author lines in every city were menaced or
in his lifetime, and sometimes cor smitten w ith excommunication ; the
responded w ith him .” Lambertazzi were driven from Bologna.
Tiraboschi also mentions him, Storia Forli was placed under interdict for
della Lett., I V . 397 : “ H e was seen harboring the exiles ; the goods o f the
by Dante in Purgatory punished among citizens were confiscated for the benefit
the Gluttons, from w hich vice, it is o f the Pope. Bertoldo Orsini was de
proper to say, poetry did not render posed from the Countship o f Romagna ;
him exempt.” the office was bestowed on John o f
22. Pope Martin the Fourth, whose Appia, w ith instructions everywhere
fondness for the eels o f Bolsena brought to coerce or to chastise the refractory
his life to a sudden close, and his soul G hibellines.”
to this circle o f Purgatory, has been rid V illani, Book V I . C h . 106, says :
iculed in the well-known epigram, — “ H e was a good man, and very favor
v o l . 11. 41
322 Notes
able to H o ly Church and to those eller who visits Italy for the first time
o f the house o f France, because he was a more impressive idea o f the effects
from Tours.” o f malaria.”
H e is said to have died o f a surfeit. O f the Vernaccia or Vernage, in
T h e eels and sturgeon o f Bolsena, and w hich Pope Martin cooked his eels,
the wines o f Orvieto and Montefias- Henderson says, Hist. Anc. and Mod,
cone, in the neighborhood o f whose Wines, p. 296: “ T h e Vernage . . . .
vineyards he lived, were too much for was a red w ine, o f a bright color, and
him. But he died in Perugia, not in a sweetish and somewhat rough flavor,
Orvieto. w hich was grown in Tuscany and
24. T h e Lake o f Bolsena is in the other parts o f Italy, and derived its
Papal States, a few miles northwest o f name from the thick-skinned grape,
V iterbo, on the road from Rome to vernaccia (corresponding w ith the vina-
Siena. It is thus described in M urray’s ciolas o f the ancients), that was used in
Handbook of Central Italy, p. 199 : — the preparation o f it.”
“ Its circular form, and being in the Chaucer mentions it in the Merchant's
centre o f a volcanic district, has led to T ale: —
its being regarded as an extinct crater ; “ H e drinketh ipocras, clarre, and vernage
but that hypothesis can scarcely be ad O f spices hot, to encreasen his corage.”
mitted when the great extent o f the And Redi, Bacchus in Tuscany, Leigh
lake is considered. T h e treacherous H unt’s T r ., p. 30, sings o f it thus: —
beauty o f the lake conceals malaria in “ I f anybody does n’t like Vernaccia,
its most fatal forms ; and its shores, al I mean that sort t h a t ’s made in Pietrafitta,
though there are no traces o f a marsh, L et him fly
are deserted, excepting where a few M y violent e y e ;
sickly hamlets are scattered on their I curse him, clean, through all the A lp h a-
beta.”
western slopes. T h e ground is culti
vated in many parts down to the 28. O vid, Met. V I I ., says o f Eri-
water’s edge, but the laborers dare not sichthon, that he
sleep for a single night during the sum “ Deludes his throat with visionary fare,
Feasts on the wind and banquets on the air.”
mer or autumn on the plains where
they work by day; and a large tract 29. Ubaldin dalla Pila was a brother
o f beautiful and productive country is o f the Cardinal Ottaviano degli Ubal-
reduced to a perfect solitude by this dini, mentioned I n f X . 120, and fa
invisible calamity. Nothing can . be ther o f the Archbishop Ruggieri, Inf.
more striking than the appearance o f X X X II I. 14. According to Sacchetti,
the lake, without a single sail upon its N ov. 205, he passed most o f his time
waters, and with scarcely a human at his castle, and turned his gardener
habitation within sight o f B olsena; into a priest; “ and Messer U baldino,”
and nothing perhaps can give the trav continues the novelist, “ put him into
Purgatorio xxiv. 323
his church ; o f w hich one may say he 50. Chaucer, Complaint o f the Blacke
made a pigsty ; for he did not put in Knight, 19 4 : —
a priest, but a pig in the way o f eating “ But even like as doth a skrivenere,
and drinking, who had neither gram T h a t can no more tell what that he shal write,
mar nor any good thing in him .” But as his maister beside dothe indite.”
Some writers say that this Boniface, 51. A canzone o f the Vita Nuova,
Archbishop o f Ravenna, was a son o f beginning, in Rossetti’s version, Early
Ubaldino; but this is confounding him Italian Poets, p. 255 : —
w ith Ruggieri, Archbishop o f Pisa.
“ Ladies that have intelligence in love,
H e was o f the Fieschi o f Genoa. H is O f mine own lady I would speak with you;
pasturing many people alludes to his N ot that I hope to count her praises through,
keeping a great retinue and court, and But, telling what I may, to ease my m ind.”
the free life they led in matters o f the 56. Jacopo da Lentino, or “ the
table. N otary,” was a Sicilian poet who
31. Messer Marchese da Forli, who flourished about 1250, in the later days
answered the accusation made against o f the Emperor Frederick the Second.
him, that “ he was always drinking,” by Crescimbeni, Hist. Volg. Poesia, III.
saying, that “ he was always thirsty.” 43, says that Dante “ esteemed him so
37. A lady o f Lucca w ith whom highly, that he even mentions him in
Dante is supposed to have been en his Com edy, doing him the favor to
amored. “ Let us pass over in si put him into Purgatory.” Tassoni,
lence,” says Balbo, Life and Times o f and others after him, make the careless
Dante, II. 177, “ the consolations and statement that he addressed a sonnet to
errors o f the poor exile.” But Buti Petrarca. H e died before Petrarca was
says : “ H e formed an attachment to born. Rossetti gives several specimens
a gentle lady, called Madonna Gen- o f his sonnets and canzonette in his
tucca, o f the family o f Rossimpelo, on Early Italian Poets, o f w hich the fol
account o f her great virtue and mod lowing is o n e : —
esty, and not with any other love.”
“ O f h is L a d y i n H e a v e n .
Benvenuto and the Ottimo interpret
“ I have it in my heart to serve God so
the passage differently, making gentuc-
T h a t into Paradise I shall repair, —
ca a common noun,— gente bassa, low T h e holy place through the w hich every
people. But the passage w hich im where
mediately follows, in w hich a maiden I have heard say that joy and solace flow.
is mentioned who should make Lucca W ithout my lady I were loath to go, —
pleasant to him, seems to confirm the She who has the bright face and the bright
h a ir 5
former interpretation.
Because i f she were absent, I being there,
38. In the throat o f the speaker, M y pleasure would be less than naught, I
where he felt the hunger and thirst o f know .
his punishment. L o o k you, I say not this to such intent
3 2 4 Notes
A s that I there would deal in any sin : sonable distrust o f his judges, was w ith
I only would behold her gracious mien, in one hour, against all legal forms,
A n d beautiful soft eyes, and lovely face,
condemned to lose his head, as a rebel
T h a t so it should be my complete content
T o see my lady joyful in her place.”
and traitor to the commonwealth.
“ N ot w illing to allow the culprit
Fra Guittone d’ Arezzo, a contem more time for an armed resistance than
porary o f the N otary, was one o f the had been given for legal vindication,
Frati Gaudenti, or Jovial Friars, men the Seignory, preceded by the Gon-
tioned in Inf. X X III. N ote 103. H e -.falonier o f justice, and followed by the
first brought the Italian Sonnet to the Podesta, the captain o f the people, and
perfect form it has since preserved, the executor, — all attended by their
and left behind the earliest specimens guards and officers, — issued from the
o f Italian letter-writing. These letters palace; and with the whole civic force
are written in a very florid style, and marshalled in companies,"with banners
are perhaps more poetical than his flying, moved forward to execute an
verses, w hich certainly fall very far illegal sentence against a single citizen,
short o f the “ sweet new style.” O f who nevertheless stood undaunted on
all his letters the best is that To the his defence.
FlorentineSy from which a b rief extract “ Corso, on first hearing o f the pros
is given Canto V I. N ote 76. ecution, had hastily barricaded all the
82. Corso Donati, the brother o f approaches to his palace, but, disabled
Forese who is here speaking, and into by the gout, could only direct the ne-
whose mouth nothing but G hibelline nessary operations from his bed ; yet
wrath could have put these words. thus helpless, thus abandoned by all
Corso was the leader o f the Neri in but his own immediate friends and vas
Florence, and a partisan o f Charles de sals ; suddenly condemned to death ;
Valois. His death is recorded by V il- encompassed by the bitterest foes, with
lani, V I I I . 96, and is thus described the whole force o f the republic banded
by Napier, Flor. Hist., I. 407: — against him, he never cowered for an
“ T h e popularity o f Corso was now instant, but courageously determined to
thoroughly undermined, and the priors, resist, until succored by Uguccione
after sounding the Campana for a gen della Faggiola, to whom he had sent
eral assembly o f the armed citizens, for aid. T h is attack continued during
laid a formal accusation before the Po- the greater part o f the day, and gener
desta Piero Branca d* Agobbio against ally with advantage to the Donati, for
him for conspiring to overthrow the the people were not unanimous, and
liberties o f his country, and endeavor many fought unwillingly, so that, i f the
ing to make himself Tyrant o f Flo Rossi, Bardi, and other friends had
rence : he was immediately cited to joined, and Uguccioni’s forces arrived,
appear, and, not complying, from a rea it would have gone hard w ith the citi
Ptirgatorio xxiv. 325
zens. T h e former were intimidat speaker; but in truth, his life was dan
ed, the latter turned back on hearing gerous, and his death reprehensible.
how matters stood ; and then only did H e was a knight o f great mind and
Corso’s adherents lose heart and slink name, gentle in manners as in blood ;
from the barricades, w hile the towns o f a fine figure even in his old age,
men pursued their advantage by break w ith a beautiful countenance, delicate
ing down a garden wall opposite the features, and a fair complexion ; pleas
Stinche prisons and taking their enemy ing, wise ; and an eloquent speaker.
in the rear. T h is completed the dis H is attention was ever fixed on im
aster, and Corso, seing no chance re portant things ; he was intimate with
maining, fled towards the Casentino ; all the great and noble, had an exten
but, being overtaken by some Cata sive influence, and was famous through
lonian troopers in the Florentine ser out Italy. H e was an enemy o f the
vice, he was led back a prisoner from middle classes and their supporters, be
Rovezzano. After vainly endeavoring loved by the troops, but full o f mali
to bribe them, unable to support the cious thoughts, w icked, and artful. He
indignity o f a public execution at the was thus basely murdered by a foreign
hands o f his enemies, he let him self soldier, and his fellow -citizens w ell
fall from his horse, and, receiving sev knew the man,- for he was instantly
eral stabs in the neck and flank from conveyed away : those who ordered
the Catalan lances, his body was left his death were Rosso della Tosa and
bleeding on the road, until the monks Pazzino de’ Pazzi, as is commonly said
o f San Salvi removed it to their con by all ; and some bless him and some
vent, where he was interred next the contrary. M any believe that the
morning with the greatest privacy. two said knights killed him, and I,
Thus perished C'orso Donati, ‘ the wishing to ascertain the truth, inquired
wisest and most worthy knight o f his diligently, and found what I have said
time; the best speaker, the most expe to be true.’ f Such is the character o f
rienced statesman; the most renowned, Corso Donati, w hich has come down
the boldest, and most enterprising no to us from two authors who must have
bleman in Italy : he was handsome in been personally acquainted w ith this
person and o f the most gracious man distinguished chief, but opposed to
ners, but very w orldly, and caused each other in the general politics o f
infinite disturbance in Florence on their country.”
account o f his ambition.’ * . . . . See also Inf. V I. N ote 52.
* People now began to repose, and his 99. V irgil and Statius.
unhappy death was often and variously 105. Dante had only so far gone
discussed, according to the feelings o f round the circle, as to come in sight o f
friendship or enmity that moved the the second o f these trees, w hich from
* V illa n i, V I I I . Ch. 96. f Dino Compagni, III. 76.
326 Notes
distance to distance encircle the moun O r her whom chance presented, took : the feast
A n image o f a taken town expressed.
tain.
“ T h e cave resounds with female shrieks j
I I 6. In the Terrestrial Paradise on
we rise
the top o f the mountain. Mad with revenge, to m ake a swift reprise :
121. T h e Centaurs, born o f Ixion And Theseus first, ‘ W h a t frenzy has possessed,
and the Cloud, and having the “ dou O Eurytus,’ he cried, ‘ thy brutal breast,
ble breasts” o f man and horse, became T o wrong Pirithous, and not him alone,
drunk with wine at the marriage o f But, w hile I live, two friends conjoined in
one ? ’ ”
Hippodamia and Pirithous, and strove
to carry off the bride and the other 125. Judges vii. 5, 6 : “ So he
women by violence. Theseus and brought down the people unto the
the rest o f the Lapithas opposed them, w ater: and the Lord said unto G ideon,
and drove them from the feast. T h is E very one that lappeth o f the water
famous battle is described at great wi*h his tongue, as a dog lappeth, him
length by O vid, Met. X II., D ry- shalt thou set by h im se lf; likewise
den’s T r . : — every one that boweth down upon his
“ For one, most brutal o f the brutal brood, knees to drink. And the number o f
O r whether wine or beauty fired his blood, them that lapped, putting their hand
Or both at once, beheld with lustful eyes to their mouth, were three hundred
T h e bride } at once resolved to m ake his prize. men ; but all the rest o f the people
Down went the board; and fastening on her hair,
bowed down upon their knees to drink
H e seized with sudden force the frighted fair.
w ater.”
’T was Eurytus began : his bestial kind
His crime pursued j and each, as pleased his 139. T h e Angel o f the Seventh
m ind, Circle.
C A N T O XXV.
T r T h e ascent to the Seventh C ir “ A n d did address

Itse lf to motion, lik e as it would speak.”
cle o f Purgatory, where the sin o f Lust
is punished. 22. Meleager was the son o f CEneus
3. W hen the sign o f Taurus reached and Althaea, o f Calydon. A t his birth
the meridian, the sun, being in Aries, the Fates were present and predicted
would be two hours beyond it. It is his future greatness. Clotho said that
now two o’ clock o f the afternoon. he would be brave ; Lachesis, that he
T h e Scorpion is the sign opposite would be strong ; and Atropos, that
Taurus. he would live as long as the brand
15. Shakespeare, Hamlet, I. 2 : — upon the fire remained unconsumed.
Purgatorio xxv. 327
O vid, Met. V I I I ., D ryden’s T r . : — CHORUS.
“ In the ears o f the world

“ Th ere lay a log unlighted on the hearth,
It is sung, it is told,
W hen she was laboring in the throes o f birth
A n d the light thereof hurled
For th ’ unborn ch ief j the fatal sisters came,
A n d the noise thereof rolled
A n d raised it up, and tossed it on the flame,
From the Acroceraunian snow to the ford o f
T h en on the rock a scanty measure place
the fleece o f gold.
O f vital flax, and turned the wheel apace j
M E LE A G E R .
A n d turning sung, ‘ T o this red brand and
thee, “ W ould God ye could carry me
O new-born babe, we give an equal destiny ” j Forth o f all these ;
So vanished out o f view. T h e frighted dame Heap sand and bury me
Sprung hasty from her bed, and quenched the By the Chersonese
flame. W here the thundering Bosphorus answers the
T h e log, in secret locked, she kept w ith care, thunder o f Pontic seas.
A n d that, w hile thus preserved, preserved her CENEUS.
h eir.” “ Dost thou m ock at our praise

A n d the singing begun
M eleager distinguished himself in
A n d the men o f strange days
the Argonautic expedition, and after Praising my son
wards in the hunt o f Calydon, where In the folds o f the hills o f home, high places
he killed the famous boar, and gave o f Calydon ?
the boar’s head to Atalanta; and when M E LE A G E R .
“ For the dead man no home i s ;

his uncles tried to take possession o f it,
A h , better to be
he killed them also. O n hearing this,
W h a t the flower o f the foam is
and seeing the dead bodies, his mother In fields o f the sea,
in her rage threw the brand upon the T h a t the sea-waves m ight be as my raiment,
fire again, and, as it was consumed, the gulf-stream a garment for me.
M eleager perished.
M r. Swinburne, Atalanta in Caly “ M other, I dying with unforgetful tongue
H ail thee as holy and worship thee as just
don : —
CHORUS.
W h o art unjust and unholy j and w ith my
knees
“ W hen thou dravest the men
W ould worship, but thy fire and subtlety,
O f the chosen o f Th race,
Dissundering them, devour m e ; for these limbs
None turned him again
A re as light dust and crumblings from mine urn
N or endured he thy face
Before the fire has touched th em ; and my face
Clothed round with the blush o f the battle, w ith
A s a dead leaf or dead foot’s m ark on snow,
light from a terrible place.
A n d all this body a broken barren tree
CENEUS. T h a t was so strong, and all this flower o f life
“ Th ou shouldst die as he dies Disbranched and desecrated miserably,
For whom none sheddeth tears j A n d minished all that god-like muscle and
F illin g thine eyes m ight
A n d fulfilling thine ears A n d lesser than a m an’s : for all my veins
W ith the brilliance o f battle, the bloom and the Fail me, and all mine ashen life burns
beauty, the splendor o f spears. d ow n.”
328 Notes
37. T h e dissertation w hich Dante O f the ever festal stars ;
here puts into the mouth o f Statius may Say, who was he, the sunless shade,
A fter whose pattern man was made ;
be found also in a briefer prose form
H e first, the full o f ages, born
in the Convito, I V . 21. It so much
W ith the old pale polar morn,
excites the enthusiasm o f V archi, that Sole, yet all ; first visible thought,
he declares it alone sufficient to prove A fter w hich the Deity wrought ?
Dante to have been a physician, phi T w in -birth with Pallas, not remain
losopher, and theologian o f the highest Doth he in Jove’s o’ershadowed brain j
But though o f wide communion,
order ; and goes on to say : “ I not
Dwells apart, like one alone ;
only confess, but I swear, that as many
A n d fills the wondering embrace,
times as I have read it, w hich day and (Doubt it not) o f size and place.
night are more than a thousand, my W heth er, companion o f the stars,
wonder and astonishment have always W ith their tenfold round he errs ;
increased, seeming every time to find O f inhabits with his lone
Nature in the neighboring moon j
therein new beauties and new instruc
O r sits with body-waiting souls,
tion, and consequently new difficul
Dozing by the Lethaean pools: —
ties.” O r whether, haply, placed afar
T h is subject is also discussed in part In some blank region o f our star,
by Thom as Aquinas, Sum. Tbeol., I. He stalks, an unsubstantial heap,
Quasst. cxix., De propagatione hominis H um anity’s giant archetype j
W here a loftier bulk he rears
quantum ad corpus.
T h an A tlas, grappler o f the stars,
M ilton, in his Latin poem, De Idea
A n d through their shadow-touched abodes
Platonicay has touched upon a theme Brings a terror to the gods.
somewhat akin to this, but in a manner N ot the seer o f him had sight,
to make it seem very remote. Perhaps W h o found in darkness depths o f light j *
no two passages could better show the His travelled eyeballs saw him not
In all his m ighty gulfs o f th o u g h t: —
difference between Dante and M ilton,
H im the farthest-footed good,
than this canto and Plato's Archetypal
Pleiad M ercury, never showed
Man, w hich in Leigh Hunt’s trans T o any poet’s wisest sight
lation runs as follows : — In the silence o f the n ig h t : —
News o f him the Assyrian priest f
“ Say, guardian goddesses o f woods,
Found not in his sacred list,
Aspects, felt in solitudes;
Th ou gh he traced back old kin g N ine,
And M em ory, at whose blessed knee
A n d Belus, elder name divine,
T h e Nine, w hich thy dear daughters be,
A n d Osiris, endless famed.
Learnt o f the majestic past ;
N ot the glory, triple-named,
A n d thou, that in some antre vast
T h rice great Hermes, though his -eyes
Leaning afar off dost lie,
Read the shapes o f all the skies,
Otiose Eternity,
L eft him in his sacred verse
Keeping the tablets and decrees
Revealed to Nature’s worshippers.
O f Jove, and the ephemerides
O f the gods, and calendars, . * Tiresias, who was blind. f Sanchoniathon.
Purgatorio xxv. 329
** O Plato ! and was this a dream 81. Thomas Aquinas, Sum. Theol
O f thine in bowery Academ e ? I. Quaest. cxviii. A rt. 3 : “ Anima in-
W ert thou the golden tongue to tell
tellectiva remanet destructo corpore.”
First o f this high miracle,
A n d charm him to thy schools below ?
86. Either upon the shores o f A che
O call thy poets back, if so,* ron or o f the T ib er.
B ack to the state thine exiles call, 103. JEneid, V I. 723, Davidson’s
T h ou greatest fabler o f them a l l ; T r .:— ■
Or follow through the self-same gate, “ In the first place, the spirit w ith
T h ou , the founder o f the state.”
in nourishes the heavens, the earth,
48. T h e heart, where the blood and watery plains, the moon’s enlight
takes the “ virtue informative,” as stated ened orb, and the Titanian stars ; and
in line 40. the mind, diffused through all the mem
52. T h e vegetative soul, w hich in bers, actuates the whole frame, and
man differs from that in plants, as be mingles w ith the vast body o f the uni
ing in a state o f development, w hile verse. T hen ce the race o f men and
that o f plants is complete already. beasts, the vital principles o f the flying
55. T h e vegetative becomes a sen kind, and the monsters w hich the ocean
sitive soul. breeds under its smooth plain. These
65. “ T h is was the opinion o f Aver- principles have the active force o f fire,
roes,” says the Ottimo, “ w hich is false, and are o f a heavenly original, so far as
and contrary to the Catholic faith.” they are not clogged by noxious bodies,
In the language o f the Schools, the blunted by earth-born limbs and dying
Possible Intellect, intellectus possibilis, members. Hence they fear and de
is the faculty w hich receives impres sire, grieve and rejoice ; and, shut up
sions through the senses, and forms in darkness and a gloomy prison, lose
from them pictures or pbantasmata in sight o f their native skies. Even when
the mind. T h e A ctive Intellect, in w ith the last beams o f light their life
tellectus agens, draws from these pic is gone, yet not every ill, nor all cor
tures various ideas, notions, and con poreal stains, are quite removed from
clusions. T h e y represent the Under the unhappy beings; and it is absolute
standing and the Reason. ly necessary that many imperfections
70. G od. w hich have long been joined to the
75. R edi, Bacchus in Tuscany.•— soul should be in marvellous ways in
“ Such bright blood is a ray enkindled
creased and riveted therein. T h ere
O f that sun, in heaven that shines,
fore are they afflicted w ith punish
A n d has been left behind entangled
An d caught in the net o f the many vines.” ments, and pay the penalties o f their
79. W hen Lachesis has spun out former ills. Some, hung on high, are
the thread o f life. spread out to the empty w in d s; in
others, the guilt not done away is
* W hom Plato banished from his imaginary
republic. washed out in a vast watery abyss, or
V O L . II. 42
330 Notes
burned away in fire. W e each endure “ But now her son had fifteen summers told,
his own manes, thence are we conveyed Fierce at the chase, and in the forest bold ;
along the spacious Elysium, and w e, W h en , as he beat the woods in quest o f prey,
H e chanced to rouse his m other where she
the happy few, possess the fields of
lay.
b liss; till length o f time, after the She knew her son, and kept him in her sight,
fixed period is elapsed, hath done And fondly gazed : the boy was in a fright,
away the inherent stain, and hath left A n d aimed a pointed arrow at her breast,
the pure celestial reason, and the fiery An d would have slain his mother in the beast;
energy o f the simple spirit.” But Jove forbad, and snatched them through
the air
121. “ God o f clemency supreme ” ;
In whirlwinds up to Heaven, and fixed them
the church hymn, sung at matins on there ;
Saturday morning, and containing a W here the new constellations nightly rise,
prayer for purity. A n d add a lustre to the Northern skies.
128. Luke i. 34: “ T h en said M ary “ \Vhen Juno saw the rival in her height,
unto the angel, H ow shall this be, see Spangled w ith stars, and circled round with
light,
ing I know not a man ? ”
She sought old Ocean in his deep abodes,
131. H elice, or Callisto, was a daugh A n d Tethys, both revered among the gods.
ter o f Lycaon, king o f Arcadia. She T h e y ask what brings her there : ‘ N e ’er ask/
was one o f the attendant nymphs o f says she,
Diana, who discarded her on account 1 W hat brings me h e r e ; Heaven is no place
for me.
o f an amour w ith Jupiter, for w hich
Y o u ’11 see, when N igh t has covered all things
Juno turned her into a bear. Areas
o’er,
was the offspring o f this amour. Jupi Jove’s starry bastard and triumphant whore
ter changed them to the constellations Usurp the heavens ; you ’11 see them proudly
o f the Great and Little Bear. roll
O vid, Met. II ., Addison’s T r . : — In their new orbs, and brighten all the pole.”
C A N T O XXVI.
1. T h e punishment o f the sin o f taur. V irg il, Eclogue V I . 45, David

Lust. son’s T r . : —
5. It is near sunset, and the western " And he soothes Pasiphae in her
sky is w hite, as the sky always is in the passion for the snow-white b u ll: happy
neighborhood o f the sun. woman i f herds had never been ! A h ,
12. A ghostly or spiritual body. ill-fated maid, what madness seized
41. Pasiphae, wife o f Minos, king thee ? T h e daughters o f Prcetus with
o f C rete, and mother of the Mino- imaginary lowings filled the fields; yet
Purgatorio xxvi. 3 3 i
none o f them pursued such vile em For w ith the sun, at once,
braces o f a beast, however they might So sprang the light immediately ; nor was
Its birth before the sun’s.
dread the plough about their necks,
And Love hath his effect in gentleness
and often feel for horns on their
O f very self j even as
smooth foreheads. A h , ill-fated maid, W ithin the middle fire the heat’s excess.
thou now art roaming on the moun
tains ! H e, resting his snowy side “ T h e fire o f Love comes to the gentle heart
on the soft hyacinth, ruminates the L ik e as its virtue to a precious stone ;
T o w hich no-star its influence can impart
blenched herbs under some gloomy
T ill it is made a pure thing by the sun :
oak, or courts some female in the nu
For when the sun hath smit
merous herd.” From out its essence that w hich there was
43. T h e Riphaean mountains are in vile,
the north o f Russia. T h e sands are T h e star endoweth it.
the sands o f the deserts. A n d so the heart created by God’s, breath
Pure, true, and clean from guile,
59. Beatrice.
A woman, like a star, enamoreth.
62. T h e highest heaven. Par.
X X V II . “ In gentle heart Love for lik e reason is
78. In one o f Caesar’s, triumphs the For w hich the lamp’s high flame is fanned
Roman soldiery around his chariot and bowed :
Clear, piercing bright, it shines for its own
called him “ Queen ” ; thus reviling
bliss ;
him for his youthful debaucheries with
N or would it burn there else, it is so proud.
Nicomedes, king o f Bithynia. For evil natures meet
87. T h e cow made by Dasdalus. W ith Love as it were water met with fire,
92. Guido G uinicelli, the best o f A s cold abhorring heat.
the Italian poets before Dante, flour Through gentle heart Love doth a track
d iv in e ,—
ished in the first h alf o f the thirteenth
L ik e know ing lik e ; the same
century. H e was a native o f Bologna,
A s diamond runs through iron in the mine.
but o f his life nothing is known. H is
most celebrated poem is a Canzone on “ T h e sun strikes full upon the mud all dayj
the Nature o f L ove, w hich goes far to It remains vile, nor the sun’s worth is
justify the warmth and tenderness of less.
‘ By race I am gentle,’ the proud man doth
Dante’s praise. Rossetti, Early Italian
say :
Poets, p. 24, gives the following ver
H e is the mud, the sun is gentleness.
sion o f it, under the title o f The Gentle L et no man predicate
H eart: — T h a t aught the name o f gentleness should
“ W ithin the gentle heart Love shelters him, have,
A s birds within the green shade o f the Even in a k in g’s estate,
grove. Except the heart there be a gentle man’s.
Before the gentle heart, in Nature’s scheme, T h e star-beam lights the w a v e ,—
Love was not, nor the gentle heart ere H eaven holds the star and the star’s radi
Love. ance.
332 Notes
** God, in the understanding o f high Heaven, T hus G onzalo de Berceo, a Spanish
Burns more than in our sight the living su n : poet o f the thirteenth century, begins
T here to behold His Face unveiled is given;
a poem on the Vida del Glorioso Con
A nd H eaven, whose w ill is homage paid
to One,
fessor Santo Domingo de Silos: —
Fulfils the things w hich live “ De un confessor Sancto quiero fer una prosa,
In God, from the beginning excellent. Quiero fer una prosa en roman paladino,
So should my lady give En qual suele el pueblo fablar a su vecino,
T h a t truth w hich in her eyes is glorified, Ca non so tan letrado per fer otro Latino.”
On which her heart is bent,
T o me whose service waiteth at her side.
120. Gerault de Berneil o f Limoges,
born o f poor parents, but a man o f
** M y lady, God shall ask, ‘ W h a t daredst talent and learning, was one o f the
thou ? ’ most famous Troubadours o f the thir
(W h en my soul stands w ith all her acts teenth century. T h e old P rove^ al bi
review ed;)
4Th ou passedst H eaven, into M y sight, as ographer, quoted by Raynouard, Cboix
now,
de Poesies, V . 166, says : “ H e was a
T o m ake M e o f vain love similitude. better poet than any who preceded or
T o M e doth praise belong, followed him, and was therefore called
A n d to the Queen o f all the realm o f grace the Master o f the Troubadours............
W h o endeth fraud and w rong.’ H e passed his winters in study, and his
T h e n may I plead : ‘ A s though from Th ee
summers in wandering from court to
he came,
court w ith two minstrels who sang his
Love wore an angel’s face :
Lord, i f I loved her, count it not my sham e.’ ” songs.”
T h e following specimen o f his po
94. H ypsipyle was discovered and ems is from [T a y lo r ’s] Lays o f the
rescued by her sons Eumenius and T h o - Minnesingers and Troubadours, p. 247.
as, (whose father was the “ bland Ja It is an Aubade, or song o f the morn
son,” as Statius calls him ,) just as King ing : —
Lycurgus in his great grief was about to “ Companion dear! or sleeping or awaking,
put her to death for neglecting the care Sleep not again ! for lo ! the morn is nigh,
o f his child, who through her neglect A nd in the east that early star is breaking,
had been stung by a serpent. T h e day’s forerunner, known unto mine
Statius, Thebaid, V . 949, says it was e ye;

T h e morn, the morn is near.
Tydeus who saved H ysipyle : —
“ But interposing Tydeus rushed between, ** Companion dear ! with carols sweet I call
A n d with his shield protects the Lemnian th e e ;
queen.” Sleep not again ! I hear the birds’ blithe
song
118. In the old Romance languages
Loud in the woodlands ; evil may befall
the name o f prosa was applied gener thee,
ally to all narrative poems, and partic A n d jealous eyes awaken, tarrying long,
ularly to the monorhythmic romances. N ow that the morn is near.
Purgatorio xxvi. 333
Companion d ear! forth from the window tell me your name.* ” W hereupon
looking, Biagioli thunders at him in this wise :
A tten tive m ark the signs o f yonder heaven j
“ Infamous dirty dog that you are, how
Judge i f aright I read w hat they betoken :
T h in e all the loss, i f vain the warning given j
can you call this a compliment after
T h e morn, the morn is near. the manner o f the French ? H ow can
you set off against it what any cobbler
<( Companion d ear! since thou from hence wert
might say ? A w ay ! and a murrain on
straying,
you ! ”
N or sleep nor rest these eyes have visited j
M y prayers unceasing to the V irgin paying,
142. Arnaud Daniel, the T rouba
T h a t thou in peace thy backward way dour o f the thirteenth century, whom
m ight tread. Dante lauds so highly, and whom Pe-
T h e morn, the morn is near. trarca calls “ the Grand Master o f
L o ve ,” was born o f a noble family at
MCompanion dear! hence to the fields with m e !
the castle o f Ribeyrac in Perigord.
M e thou forbad’st to slumber through the
M illot, Hist, des Troub., II. 479, says
night,
A n d I have watched that livelong night for o f him : “ In all ages there have been
th ee ; false reputations, founded on some in
But thou in song or me hast no delight, dividual judgment, whose authority has
A n d now the morn is near. prevailed without examination, until at
Jast criticism discusses, the truth pene
A n sw er .
trates, and the phantom o f prejudice
u Companion dear ! so happily sojourning,
vanishes. Such has been the reputa
So blest am I, I care not forth to speed :
H ere brightest beauty reigns, her smiles tion o f Arnaud D aniel.”
adorning Raynouard confirms this judgment,
H er dwelling - place, — then wherefore and says that, “ in reading the works o f
should I heed this Troubadour, it is difficult to con
T h e morn or jealous eyes ? ”
ceive the causes o f the great celebrity
According to Nostrodamus he died he enjoyed during his life.”
in 1278. Notwithstanding his great Arnaud Daniel was the inventor o f
repute, Dante gives the palm o f excel the Sestina, a song o f six stanzas o f six
lence to Arnaud Daniel, his rival and lines each, w ith the same rhymes re
contemporary. But this is not the peated in all, though arranged in dif
general verdict o f literary history. ferent and intricate order, w hich must
124. Fra Guittone d? A rezzo. See be seen to be understood. H e was
Canto X X I V . N ote 56. also author o f the metrical romance o f
137. Venturi has the indiscretion Lancillotto, or Launcelot o f the Lake,
to say : “ T h is is a disgusting compli to w hich Dante doubtless refers in his
ment after the manner o f the French ; expression prose di romanxi, or proses
in the Italian fashion w e should say, o f romance. T h e following anecdote
‘ You w ill do me a favor, i f you w ill is from the old P ro v e^ a l authority,
334 Notes
quoted both by M illot and Raynouard, song w hich the jongleur had composed.
and is thus translated by Miss Costello, T h e latter, stupefied with astonish
Early Poetry of France, p. 37 : — ment, could only exclaim : * It is my
“ Arnaud visited the court o f R ich song, it is my song.’ ‘ Impossible ! ’
ard Coeur de Lion in England, and en cried the king ; but the jongleur, per
countered there a jongleur, who defied sisting, requested Richard to interro
him to a trial o f skill, and boasted gate Arnaud, who would not dare, he
o f being able to make more difficult said, to deny it. Daniel confessed the
rhymes than Arnaud, a proficiency on fact, and related the manner in w hich
w hich he chiefly prided himself. H e the affair had been conducted, w hich
accepted the challenge, and the two amused Richard far more than the song
poets separated, and retired to their itself. T h e stakes o f the wager were
respective chambers to prepare for the restored to each, and the king loaded
contest. T h e Muse o f Arnaud was them both w ith presents.”
not propitious, and he vainly endeav According to Nostrodamus, Arnaud
ored to string two rhymes together. died about 1189. T h ere is no other
H is rival, on the other hand, quickly reason for making him speak in Pro
caught the inspiration. T h e king had vencal than the evident delight w hich
allowed ten days as the term o f prep Dante took in the sound o f the words,
aration, five for composition, and the and the peculiar flavor they give to the
remainder for learning it by heart to close o f the canto. Raynouard says
sing before the court. On the third that the writings o f none o f the T ro u
day the jongleur declared that he had badours have been so disfigured by cop
finished his poem, and was ready to yists as those o f Arnaud. T h is would
recite it, but Arnaud replied that he seem to be true o f the very lines w hich
had not yet thought o f his. It was the Dante writes for him ; as there are at
jongleur’s custom to repeat his verses least seven different readings o f them.
out loud every day, in order to learn Here Venturi has again the indiscre
them better, and Arnaud, who was in tion to say that Arnaud answers Dante
vain endeavoring to devise some means in “ a kind o f lingua-franca, part Pro
to save him self from the mockery o f vencal and part Catalan, joining togeth
the court at being outdone in this con er the perfidious French with the vile
test, happened to overhear the jongleur Spanish, perhaps to show that Arnaud
singing. H e went to his door and was a clever speaker o f the tw o.”
listened, and succeeded in retaining the And again Biagioli suppresses him with
words and the air. On the day ap “ that unbridled beast o f a Venturi,”
pointed they both appeared before the and this “ most potent argument o f his
king. Arnaud desired to be allowed presumptuous ignorance and imperti
to sing first, and immediately gave the nence.”
Purgatorio x x v ii . 335
.CANTO X X V II .
1. T h e description o f the Seventh 58. M atthew xxv. 34: “ T h en shall

and last Circle continued. the king say unto them on his right
C o w ley, Hymn to L ig h t: — hand, Com e, ye blessed o f my Father,
“ Say from w hat golden quivers o f the sky inherit the kingdom prepared for you
Do all thy winged arrows fly ? ” from the foundation o f the w orld.”
2. W hen the sun is rising at Jerusa 70. D r. Furness’s Hymn : —
lem, it is setting on the Mountain o f “ Slow ly by God’s hand unfurled,
Purgatory j it is midnight in Spain, Down around the weary world
w ith Libra in the meridian, and noon Falls the darkness.”
in India. 90. Evening o f the T h ird D ay o f

€<A great labyrinth o f words and Purgatory. M ilton, Parad. Lost, IV .
things,” says Venturi, “ meaning only 598 : —
that the sun was setting! ” and this “ N ow came still Evening on, and T w iligh t gray
time the “ dolce pedagogo ” Biagioli lets Had in her sober livery all things clad :
him escape without the usual reprimand. Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird,
8. M atthew v. 8 : “ Blessed are the T h e y to their grassy couch, these to their
pure in heart, for they shall see G o d .” nests
W ere slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale j
16. W ith the hands clasped and
She all night long her amorous descant sung;
turned palm downwards, and the body
Silence was pleased : now glowed the firma
straightened backward in attitude o f m ent
resistance. W ith living sapphires : Hesperus, that led
23. I n f X V I I. T h e starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
33. Know ing that he ought to con R ising in clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light,
fide in V irg il and go forward.
A n d o’er the dark her silver mantle threw.”
37. T h e story o f the Babylonian
lovers, whose trysting-place was under 93. T h e vision w hich Dante sees is
the white mulberry-tree near the tomb a foreshadowing o f Matilda and Bea
o f Ninus, and whose blood changed trice in the Terrestrial Paradise. In
the fruit from white to purple, is too the O ld Testament Leah is a symbol
w ell known to need comment. O vid, o f the A ctive life, and Rachel o f the
Met. I V ., Eusden’s T r . : — Contemplative ; as Martha and M ary
“ A t Thisbe’s name awaked, he opened wide are in the N ew Testament, and M a
H is dying eyes ; with dying eyes he tried tilda and Beatrice in the Divine Com
O n her to dwell, but closed them slow and edy. “ H appy is that house,” says
died.” Saint Bernard, “ and blessed is that
48. Statius had for a long w hile congregation, where Martha still com-
been between V irg il and Dante. plaineth o f M ary.”
336 Notes
Dante says in the Convito, IV . 17 : w ith the constellation Pisces, two hours
“ T ru ly it should be known that w e before the sun.
can have in this life two felicities, by 100. Ruskin, Mod. Painters, III. 22 1:
following two different and excellent “ T h is vision o f Rachel and Leah has
roads, which lead thereto; namely, the been always, and with unquestionable
Active life and the Contem plative.” truth, received as a type o f the A c
And O w en Feltham in his Re tive and Contemplative life, and as an
solves : — introduction to the two divisions o f
“ T h e mind can walk beyond the the Paradise w hich Dante is about to
sight o f the eye, and, though in a enter. Therefore the unwearied spirit
cloud, can lift us into heaven w hile o f the Countess Matilda is understood to
we live. Meditation is the soul’s per represent the Active life, w hich forms
spective-glass, w hereby, in her long the felicity o f Earth ; and the spirit o f
remove, she discerneth G od as i f he Beatrice the Contemplative life, w hich
were nearer hand. I persuade no man forms the felicity o f Heaven. T h is
to make it his whole life’s business. interpretation appears at first straight
W e have bodies as well as souls. And forward and certain ; but it has missed
even this w orld, w hile w e are in it, count o f exactly the most important
ought somewhat to be cared for. As fact in the two passages w hich we have
those states are likely to flourish, where to explain. Observe : Leah gathers
execution follows sound advisements, the flowers to decorate herself, and de
so is man, when contemplation is sec lights in her own Labor. Rachel sits
onded by action. Contemplation gen silent, contemplating herself, and de
erates ; action propagates. W ithout lights in her own Image. These are
the first, the latter is defective. W ith the types o f the Unglorified Active and
out the last, the first is but abortive Contemplative powers o f Man. But
and embryous. Saint Bernard com Beatrice and Matilda are the same
pares contemplation to Rachel, w hich powers, glorified. And how are they
was the more fair; but action to Leah, glorified ? Leah took delight in her
w hich was the more fruitful. I w ill own labor ; but Matilda, in operibus
neither always be busy and doing, nor manuum Tuarum, — in God's labor :
ever shut up in nothing but thoughts. Rachel, in the sight o f her own face ;
Y et that w hich some would call idle Beatrice, in the sight o f God's f a c e ”
ness, I w ill call the sweetest part o f 112. T h e morning o f the Fourth
my life, and that is, my thinking.” D ay o f Purgatory.
95. Venus, the morning star, rising 115 . Happiness.
Purgatorio xxvm. 33 7
C A N T O XXVII I.
I. T h e Terrestrial Paradise. Com I f true, here only, and o f delicious taste.

pare M ilton, Par ad. Lost, I V . 2 1 4 : — Betw ixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks
G razing the tender herb, were interposed ;
“ In this pleasant soil O r palmy h illock, or the flowery lap
His far more pleasant garden God ordained : O f some irriguous valley spread her store ;
O ut o f the fertile ground he caused to grow Flowers o f all hue, and without thorn the
A ll trees o f noblest kind for sight, sm ell, taste; rose.
An d all amid them stood the Tree o f Life, A n oth er side, umbrageous grots and caves
H igh eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit O f cool recess, o’er which the m antling vine
O f vegetable gold ; and next to Life, Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps
Our death, the Tree o f Know ledge, grew fast by, L u x u rian t: m eanwhile murmuring waters fall
Know ledge o f good bought dear by knowing ill. Down the slope hills, dispersed, or in a lake,
Southward through Eden went a river large, T h a t to the fringed bank w ith myrtle crowned
Nor changed his course, but through the shaggy H er crystal mirror holds, unite their streams.
h ill T h e birds their quire apply ; airs, vernal airs,
Passed underneath ingulfed ; for God had thrown Breathing the smell o f field and grove, attune
T h a t mountain as his garden mould, high raised T h e trembling leaves ; while universal Pan,
Upon the rapid current, w hich through veins K n it w ith the Graces and the Hours in dance,
O f porous earth with kindly thirst up drawn, Led on the eternal spring.”
Rose a fresh fountain, and w ith many a rill
W atered the garden; thence united fell 2. Ruskin, Mod. Painters, III. 219:
Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, “ As Homer gave us an ideal land
W h ich from his darksome passage now appears 3 scape, w hich even a god might have
And now, divided into four main streams, been pleased to behold, so Dante gives
Runs diverse, wandering many a famous realm
us, fortunately, an ideal landscape,
A n d country, w hereof here needs no account ;
w hich is specially intended for the
But rather to tell how, i f art could tell,
How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks,
terrestrial paradise. And it w ill doubt
R o llin g on orient pearl and sands o f gold, less be w ith some surprise, after our
W ith mazy error under pendent shades reflections above on the general tone
Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed o f Dante’s feelings, that we find our
Flowers worthy o f Paradise ; w hich not nice art
selves here first entering a forest, and
In beds and curious knots, but nature boon
that even a thick forest...............
Poured forth profuse on h ill, and dale, and plain;
Both where the morning sun first warmly smote “ T h is forest, then, is very like that
T h e open field, and where the unpierced shade o f Colonos in several respects, — in its
Imbrowned the noontide bowers. Th u s was peace and sweetness, and number o f
this place birds ; it differs from it only in letting
A happy rural seat o f various view :
a light breeze through it, being there
Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and
fore somewhat thinner than the Greek
balm ;
Others, whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,
wood ; the tender lines which tell o f
Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true, the voices o f the birds mingling with
V O L . II. 43
338 Notes
the wind, and o f the leaves all turning employments are a care. T h ere a
one way before it, have been more or vine in its prime was spread about
less copied by every poet since Dante’s the hollow grot, and it flourished w ith
time. T h e y are, so far as I know, the clusters. But four fountains flowed in
sweetest passage o f wood description succession w ith white water, turned
w hich exists in literature.” near one another, each in different
H om er’s ideal landscape, here re ways ; but around there flourished soft
ferred to, is in Odyssey V ., where he meadows o f violets and o f parsley.
describes the visit o f M ercury to the T h ere indeed even an immortal com
Island o f Calypso. It is thus trans ing would admire it when he beheld,
lated by Buckley : — and would be delighted in his mind ;
“ Immediately then he bound his there the messenger, the slayer o f A r
beautiful sandals beneath his feet, am gus, standing, admired.”
brosial, golden ; w hich carried him And again, at the close o f the same
both over the moist wave, and over book, where Ulysses reaches the shore
the boundless earth, with the breath at Phasacia : —
o f the w ind............. T h en he rushed “ T h en he hastened to the wood ;
over the wave like a bird, a sea-gull, and found it near the water in a con
w hich, hunting for fish in the terrible spicuous place, and he came under
bays o f the barren sea, dips frequently two shrubs, w hich sprang from the
its wings in the brine ; like unto this same place ; one o f wild olive, the
M ercury rode over many waves. But other o f olive. N either the strength
when he came to the distant island, o f the moistly blowing winds breathes
then, going from the blue sea, he went through them, nor has the shining sun
to the continent; until he came to the ever struck them with its beams, nor
great cave in which the fair-haired has the shower penetrated entirely
N ym ph dwelt ; and he found her through them : so thick were they
w ithin. A large fire was burning on grown entangled w ith one another;
the hearth, and at a distance the smell under w hich Ulysses came.”
o f well-cleft cedar, and o f frankincense, T h e wood o f Colonos is thus de
that were burning, shed odor through scribed in one o f the Choruses o f the
the island : but she within was singing CEdipus Coloneus o f Sophocles, Oxford
w ith a beautiful voice, and, going over T r ., Anon. : —
the web, wove w ith a golden shuttle. “ T hou hast come, O stranger, to
But a flourishing wood sprung up the seats o f this land, renowned for
around her grot, alder and poplar, the steed ; to seats the fairest on earth,
and sweet-smelling cypress. T here the chalky Colonus ; where the vo
also birds with spreading wings slept, cal nightingale, chief abounding, trills
owls and hawks, and wide - tongued her plaintive note in the green vales,
crows o f the ocean, to w hich maritime tenanting the dark-hued ivy and the
Purgatorio xxrin. 339
leafy grove o f the god, untrodden [by granates, and apple - trees producing
mortal foot], teeming w ith fruits, im beautiful fruit, and sweet figs, and flour
pervious to the sun, and unshaken by ishing olives. O f these the fruit never
the winds o f every storm ; where Bac perishes, nor does it fail in winter or
chus ever roams in revelry companion summer, lasting throughout the whole
ing his divine nurses. And ever day year ; but the west wind ever blowing
by day the narcissus, w ith its beaute makes some bud forth, and ripens
ous clusters, burst into bloom by heav others. Pear grows old after pear,
en’s dew, the ancient coronet o f the apple after apple, grape also after
mighty goddesses, and the saffron with grape, and fig after fig. T h ere a fruit
golden ray; nor do the sleepless founts ful vineyard was planted : one part o f
that feed the channels o f Cephissus fail, this ground, exposed to the sun in a
but ever, each day, it rushes o’er the wide place, is dried by the sun ; and
plains with its stainless wave, fertiliz some [grapes] they are gathering, and
ing the bosom o f the earth ; nor have others they are treading, and further
the choirs o f the Muses spurned this on are unripe grapes, having thrown
clime ; nor Venus, too, o f the golden off the flower, and others are slightly
rein. And there is a tree, such as I changing color. And there are all
hear not to have ever sprung in the kinds of beds laid out in order, to the
land o f Asia, nor in the mighty D oric furthest part o f the ground, flourishing
island o f Pelops, a tree unplanted by throughout the whole year : and in it
hand, o f spontaneous growth, terror are two fountains, one is spread through
o f the hostile spear, w hich flourishes the whole garden, but the other on the
chiefly in this region, the leaf o f the other side goes under the threshold
azure olive that nourishes our young. o f the hall to the lofty house, from
T h is shall neither any one in youth whence the citizens are wont to draw
nor in old age, marking for destruc water.”
tion, and having laid it waste w ith his Dante’s description o f the T erres
hand, set its divinity at n aught; for trial Paradise w ill hardly fail to re
the eye that never closes o f Morian call that o f Mount Acidale in Spenser’s
Jove regards it, and the blue-eyed M i Faerie Queene, V I . x. 6 : —
nerva.” “ It was an H ill plaste in an open plaine,
W e have also H om er’s description That round about was bordered w ith a
o f the Garden o f Alcinous, Odyssey, wood
V I I ., Buckley’s T r . : — O f matchlesse hight, that seemed th ’ earth
to disdaine ;
“ But without the hall there is a
In w hich all trees o f honour stately stood,
large garden, near the gates, o f four
A n d did all winter as in sommer bud,
a cres; but around it a hedge was ex Spredding pavilions for the birds to bowre,
tended on both sides. And there tall, W h ich in their lower braunches sung
flourishing trees grew , pears, and pome aloud;
34° Notes
A nd in their tops the soring hauke did the commentators to be the celebrated
towre, Countess Matilda, daughter o f Boni
Sitting like king o f fowles in maiesty and
face, Count o f Tuscany, and w ife of
powre.
G uelf, o f the house o f Suabia. Of
(f And at the foote thereof a gentle flud this marriage V illani, I V . 21, gives a
His silver waves did softly tumble downe, very strange account, w hich, i f true, is
Unmard with ragged mosse or filthy mud ; a singular picture o f the times. N a
Ne mote wylde beastes, ne mote the ruder pier, Flor. Hist., I. C h. 4 and 6, gives
clowne,
these glimpses o f the Countess : —
Thereto approch; ne filth mote therein
drowne :
“ T h is heroine died in 1 1 1 5 , after
But Nymphes and Faeries by the bancks a reign o f active exertion for herself
did sit and the Church against the Emperors,
In the woods shade w hich did the waters w hich generated the infant and as yet
crowne, nameless factions o f G u e lf and G hib-
Keeping all noysome things away from it,
elline. Matilda endured this contest
A n d to the waters fall tuning their accents fit.
w ith all the enthusiasm and constancy
“ And on the top thereof a spacious plaine o f a woman, combined with a manly
Did spred itselfe, to serve to all delight, courage that must ever render her name
Either to daunce, when they to daunce would respectable, whether proceeding from
faine, the bigotry o f the age, or to oppose
O r else to course-about their bases lig h t ;
imperial ambition in defence o f her
Ne ought there wanted, w hich for pleasure
own defective title. According to the
m ight
Desired be, or thence to banish bale : laws o f that time, she could not as a
So pleasauntly the H ill w ith equall hight female inherit her father’s states, for
Did seeme to overlooke the low ly vale ; even male heirs required a royal con
Therefore it rightly cleeped was M ount A c i- firmation. Matilda therefore, having
dale.” no legal right, feared the Emperor
See also Tasso’s Garden o f Armida, and clung to the Popes, who already
in the Gerusalemme, X V I. claimed, among other prerogatives, the
20. Chiassi is on the sea-shore near supreme disposal o f kingdoms............
Ravenna. “ Here grows a spacious “ T h e Church had ever come for
pine forest,” says Covino, Descr. Geog., ward as the friend o f her house, and
p. 39, “ w hich stretches along the sea from childhood she had breathed an
between Ravenna and C ervia.” atmosphere o f blind and devoted sub
25. T h e river Lethe. mission to its authority ; even when
40. T h is lady, who represents the only fifteen she had appeared in arms
Active life to Dante’s waking eyes, as against its enemies, and made two suc
Leah had done in his vision, and whom cessful expeditions to assist Pope A le x
Dante afterwards, Canto X X X III. 119, ander the Second during her mother’s
calls Matilda, is generally supposed by lifetime.
Purgatorio xxvm. 341
“ N o wonder, then, that in a super power over the cities and other posses
stitious age, when monarchs trembled sions thus given, as her w ill expresses
at an angry voice from the Lateran, it, ‘ for the good o f her soul, and the
the habits o f early youth should have souls o f her parents.’
mingled with every action o f M atilda’s “ W hatever may now be thought o f
life, and spread an agreeable mirage her chivalrous support, her bold defence,
over the prospect o f her eternal salva and her deep devotion to the Church, it
tion : the power that tamed a H enry’s was in perfect harmony with the spirit
pride, a Barbarossa’s fierceness, and o f that age, and has formed one o f her
afterwards withstood the vast ability o f ch ief merits with many even in the
a Frederic, might without shame have present. H er unflinching adherence
been reverenced by a girl whose feel to the cause she had so conscientiously
ings so harmonized w ith the sacred embraced was far more noble than the
strains o f ancient tradition and priestly Emperor H enry’s conduct. Swinging
dignity. But from whatever motive, between the extremes o f unmeasured
the result was a continual aggrandize insolence and abject humiliation, he
ment o f ecclesiastics; in prosperity and died a victim to Papal influence over
adversity ; during life and after death ; superstitious minds; an influence which,
from the lowliest priest to the proudest amongst other debasing lessons, then
pontiff. taught the world that a breach o f the
“ T h e fearless assertion o f her own most sacred ties and dearest affections
independence by successful struggles o f human nature was one means o f
with the Emperor was an example not gaining the approbation o f a Being who
overlooked by the young Italian com is all truth and beneficence.
munities under M atilda’s rule, who “ M atilda’s object was to strengthen
were already accused by imperial legit the ch ief spiritual against the ch ief
imacy o f political innovation and vis temporal power, but reserving her
ionary notions o f government............ own independence ; a policy subse
“ Being then at a place called Monte quently pursued, at least in spirit, by
Baroncione, and in her sixty-ninth year, the G uelphic states o f Italy. She
this celebrated woman breathed her therefore protected subordinate mem
last, after a long and glorious reign o f bers o f the Church against feudal
incessant activity, during w hich she dis chieftains, and its head against the
played a wisdom, vigor, and determi feudal Emperor. T ru e to her relig
nation o f character rarely seen even in ious and warlike character, she died
men. She bequeathed to the Church between the sword and the crucifix,
all those patrimonial estates o f w hich and two o f her last acts, even when
she had previously disposed by an act the hand o f death was already cold
o f gift to G regory the Seventh, w ith on her brow, were the chastisement
out, however, any immediate royal o f revolted Mantua, and the midnight
342 Notes
celebration o f Christ’s nativity in the 72. W hen Xerxes invaded Greece
depth o f a freezing and unusually in he crossed the Hellespont on a bridge
clement w inter.” o f boats with an army o f five million.
50. O vid, M et. V ., M aynwaring’s So say the historians. O n his return
T r. : — he crossed it in a fishing boat almost
“ H ere, w hile young Proserpine, among the alone, — “ a warning to all human arro
maids, gance.”
Diverts herself in these delicious shades ; Leander naturally hated the H elles
W hile lik e a child with busy speed and care pont, having to swim it so many times.
She gathers lilies here, and violets there ;
T h e last time, according to Thom as
W h ile first to fill her little lap she strives,
H ood, he met w ith a sea nymph, w ho,
H e ll’s grizzly monarch at the shade arrives;
Sees her thus sporting on the flowery green, enamored o f his beauty, carried him to
And loves the blooming maid, as soon as the bottom o f the sea. See Hero and
seen. Leaiider, stanza 45 : —
His urgent flame impatient o f delay,
“ His eyes are blinded with the sleety brine,
Swift as his thought he seized the beauteous
His ears are deafened w ith the wildering
prey,
noise;
And bore her in his sooty car away.
H e asks the purpose o f her fell design,
The frighted goddess to her mother cries,
But foamy waves choke up his struggling
But all in vain, for now far o ff she flies.
voice,
Far she behind her leaves her virgin train ;
Under the ponderous sea his body dips,
T o them too cries, and cries to them in vain.
And H ero’s name dies bubbling on his
An d while w ith passion she repeats her call,
lips.
T h e violets from her lap, and lilies fall :
She misses them , poor h e a rt! and makes new “ Lo ok how a man is lowered to his grave,
[ moan ; A yearning hollow in the green earth’s
Her lilies, ah ! are lost, her violets gone.” lap;
So he is sunk into the yawning wave,
65. O vid, Met. X ., Eusden’s T r . : — T h e plunging sea fills up the watery g a p ;
A n on he is all gone, and nothing seen,
“ For Cytherea’s lips w hile Cupid prest,
But likeness o f green tu rf and hillocks
H e with a heedless arrow razed her breast.
green.
T h e goddess felt it, and, with fury stung,
T h e wanton m ischief from her bosom flung : “ And where he swam, the constant sun lies
Y e t thought at first the danger slight, but sleeping,
found O ver the verdant plain that makes his
T h e dart too faithful, and too deep the wound. bed;
Fired with a mortal beauty, she disdains A n d all the noisy waves go freshly leaping,
To haunt th ’ Idalian mount, or Phrygian L ik e gamesome boys over the churchyard
plains. dead ;
She seeks not Cnidos, nor her Paphian shrines, T h e light in vain keeps looking for his face,
N or Am athus, that teems with brazen mines : N ow screaming sea-fowl settle in his place.”
Even H eaven itself with all its sweets un
sought, 80. Psalm xcii. 4 : “ For thou, Lord,
Adonis far a sweeter Heaven is thought.” hast made me glad through thy work :
I w ill triumph in the works o f thy “ Upon the mount w hich highest o’er the
hands.” wave
Rises was I, with life or pure or sinful,
87. Canto X X I. 46 : —
From the first hour to that w hich is the
“ Because that neither rain, nor hail, nor snow, second,
Nor dew, nor hoar-frost any higher falls A s the sun changes quadrant, to the sixth.”
T h an the short, little stairway o f three steps.”
102. Above the gate described in
94. O nly six hours, according to Canto IX .
Adam’s own account in Par. X X I. 146. V irgil and Statius smile at this
139: — allusion to the dreams o f poets.
C A N T O XXIX.
1. T h e Terrestrial Paradise and the 47. T h e general form which ob

Apocalyptic Procession o f the Church jects may have in common, and by
Triumphant. w hich they resemble each other.
3. Psalm x x x ii. 1 : “ Blessed is he 49. T h e faculty w hich lends dis
whose transgression is forgiven, whose course to reason is apprehension, or
sin is' covered.” the faculty by w hich things are first
10. Counted together, their steps conceived. See Canto X V I I I . 22 : —
were not a hundred in all. “ Y our apprehension from some real thing
4 1. T h e Muse of Astronom y, or A n image draws, and in yourselves dis
things celestial, represented as crowned plays it,
with stars and robed in azure. M ilton, So that it makes the soul turn unto it.”
Parad. Lost, V I I . 1, makes the same

50. Revelation i. 12, 20 : “ And I
invocation : —
turned to see the voice that spake
“ Descend from heaven, Urania, by that
w ith me. And, being turned, I saw
name
I f rightly thou art called, whose voice divine
seven golden candlesticks.............And
Following, above the Olympian h ill I soar, the seven candlesticks............. are the
A bove the flight o f Pegasean wing. seven churches.”
T h e meaning, not the name, I call : for thou Some commentators interpret them
Nor o f the Muses nine, nor on the top as the seven Sacraments o f the Church ;
O f old Olympus dwell’s t ; but, heavenly-born,
others, as the seven gifts o f the H o ly
Before the hills appeared, or fountain flowed,
Ghost.
Th ou with Eternal W isdom didst converse,
Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play 78. Delia or Diana, the moon ; and
In presence o f the A lm igh ty Father, pleased her girdle, the halo, sometimes seen
W ith thy celestial song.” around it.
344 Notes
83. Revelation iv. 4 : “ And round cording to others, because he begins
about the throne were four and twenty- with the mission o f the Baptist,— ‘ the
seats : and upon the seats I saw four voice o f one crying in the wilderness,’ —
and twenty elders sitting, clothed in w hich is figured by the lion : or, ac
white raim ent; and they had on their cording to a third interpretation, the
heads crowns o f gold.” lion was allotted to St. Mark because
These four and twenty elders are there was, in the M iddle Ages, a pop
supposed to symbolize here the four ular b elief that the young o f the lion
and twenty books o f the O ld Testa was born dead, and after three days
ment. T h e crown o f lilies indicates was awakened to vitality by the breath
the purity o f faith and doctrine. o f its sire ; some authors, however,
85. T h e salutation o f the angel to the represent the lion as vivifying his
V irgin M ary. Luke i. 28 : “ Blessed young, not by his breath, but by his
art thou, among wom en.” H ere the roar. In either case the application is
words are made to refer to Beatrice. the same ; the revival o f the young
92. T h e four Evangelists, o f whom lion was considered as symbolical o f
the four mysterious animals in E ze the resurrection, and Mark was com
kiel are regarded as symbols. Mrs. monly called the ‘ historian o f the res
Jameson, S'acred and Legendary A rt, urrection.’ Another commentator ob
I. 99: — serves that Mark begins his Gospel
“ T h e general application o f the Four w ith 'roarin g,’— ‘ the voice o f one cry
Creatures to the Four Evangelists is o f ing in the w ilderness’ ; and ends it
much earlier date than the separate and fearfully with a curse, — ' H e that be-
individual application o f each symbol, lieveth not shall be damned’ ; and that,
which has varied at different tim es; therefore, his appropriate attribute is
that propounded by St. Jerome, in his the most terrible o f beasts, the lion.
commentary on Ezekiel, has since his 3. Luke has the O x , because he has
time prevailed universally. Thus, dwelt on the priesthood o f Christ,
th e n ,— 1. T o St. M atthew was given the ox being the emblem o f sacrifice.
the C h e r u b , or human semblance, be 4. John has the E a g l e , which is the
cause he begins his Gospel with the symbol o f the highest inspiration, be
human generation o f C h r is t; or, ac cause he soared upwards to the con
cording to others, because in his G os templation o f the divine nature o f the
pel the human nature of the Saviour is Saviour.”
more insisted on than the divine. In 100. Ezekiel i. 4 : “ And I looked,
the most ancient mosaics, the type is and behold, a w hirlw ind came out o f
human, not angelic, for the head is that the north, a great cloud, and a fire
o f a man with a beard. 2. St. Mark infolding itself, and a brightness was
has the L i o n , because he has set forth about it, and out o f the midst there
the royal dignity o f C h ris t; or, ac of, as the color o f amber, out o f the
Pztrgatorio xxix. 345
midst o f the fire. Also out o f the ascends even to the throne o f G od to
midst thereof came the likeness o f four receive his commands ; as the lion or
living creatures. And this was their king he walks upon the earth in strength
appearance ; they had the likeness o f and pow er.”
a man. And every one had four faces, H e adds in a note : “ Some com
and every one had four wings. And mentators o f Dante have supposed the
their feet were straight feet ; and the griffin to be the emblem o f Christ,
sole o f their feet was like the sole o f a w ho, in fact, is one single person with
calf’s fo o t; and they sparkled like the two natures ; o f Christ, in whom G od
color o f burnished brass.” and man are combined. But in this
105. In Revelation iv. 8, they are they are mistaken; there is, in the first
described as having “ each o f them six place, a manifest impropriety in de
w in g s” ; in Ezekiel, as having only scribing the car as drawn by G od as
four. by a beast o f burden. It is very doubt
107. T h e triumphal chariot is the ful even whether Dante can be alto
Church. T h e two wheels are gen gether freed from the imputation o f a
erally interpreted as meaning the O ld want o f reverence in harnessing the
and N ew Testam ents; but Dante, Par. Pope to the car o f the C hurch.”
X II. 106, speaks o f them as St. D om i 110. T h e wings o f the Griffin ex
nic and St. Francis. tend upward between the middle list
108. T h e Griffin, half lion and h alf or trail o f splendor o f the seven candles
eagle, is explained by all the commen and the three outer ones on each side.
tators as a symbol o f Christ, in his di 117 . T h e chariot o f the sun, which
vine and human nature. D idron, in Phaeton had leave to drive for a day,
his Christian Iconography, interprets it is thus described by O vid, Met. II .,
differently. H e says, M illington’s T r ., Addison’s T r . : —
1 . 4 .5 8 :— “ A golden axle did the w ork uphold,
“ T h e mystical bird o f two colors is Gold was the beam, the wheels were orbed
understood in the manuscript o f H er- with gold.
rade to mean the Church ; in Dante, T h e spokes in rows o f silver pleased the
sight,
the bi-formed bird is the representative
T h e seat with party-colored gems was bright;
o f the Church, the Pope. T h e Pope,
A po llo shined amid the glare o f ligh t.”
in fact, is both priest and king ; he
120. In smiting Phaeton w ith a
directs the souls and governs the per
thunderbolt. O vid, M et. I I . : —
sons o f men ; he reigns over things in
heaven. T h e Pope, then, is but one “ Jove called to witness every power above,
A n d even the god whose son the chariot drove,
single person in two natures, and under
T h a t what he acts he is compelled to do,
two forms ; he is both eagle and lion. Or universal ruin must ensue.
In his character o f Pontiff, or as an Straight he ascends the high ethereal throne,
eagle, he hovers in the heavens, and From whence he used to dart his thunder down,
v o l . 11. 44
34-6 Notes
From whence his showers and storms he used could be sure that the mosaic on the
to pour, tomb o f Otho the Second, and another
B ut now could meet with neither storm nor
mosaic already described, had not been
show er;
altered in successive restorations, these
T h en , aiming at the youth, with lifted hand,
Full at his head he hurled the forky brand, would be evidence that the sword was
In dreadful thund’rings. T hus th ’ alm ighty given to St. Paul as his attribute as
sire early as the sixth century ; but there
Suppressed the raging o f the fires with fire.” are no monuments w hich can be ab
See also Inf. X V I I. Note 107. solutely trusted as regards the intro
121. T h e three Theological or duction o f the sword before the end o f
Evangelical Virtues, Charity, H ope, the eleventh century ; since the end
and Faith. For the symbolism o f o f the fourteenth century it has been so
colors in A rt, see Mrs. Jameson, Sacred generally adopted, that in the devotion
and Legendary A rt, quoted Canto V III . al efSgies I can remember no instance
N ote 28. in which it is omitted. W hen St.
130. T h e four Cardinal Virtues, Paul is leaning on the sword, it ex
Justice, Prudence, Fortitude, and T e m presses his martyrdom; when he holds
perance. T h e y are clothed in purple it aloft, it expresses also his warfare in
to mark their nobility. Prudence is the cause o f Christ : when two swords
represented w ith three eyes, as look are given to him, one is the attribute,
ing at the past, the present, and the the other the emblem; but this double
future. allusion does not occur in any o f the
133. St. Luke and St. Paul. older representations. In Italy I never
136. St. Luke is supposed to have met with St. Paul bearing two swords,
been a physician ; a b elief founded on and the only instance I can call to
Colossians iv. 14, “ Luke, the beloved mind is the bronze statue by Peter
physician.” T h e animal that nature Vischer, on the shrine o f St. Sebald, at
holds most dear is man. N urem berg.”
140. T h e sword with w hich St. 142. T h e four Apostles James, Pe
Paul is armed is a symbol o f warfare ter, John, and Jude, writers o f the C a
and martyrdom ; “ I bring not peace, nonical Epistles. T h e red flowers,
but a sword.” St. Luke’s office was w ith which their foreheads seem all
to heal ; St. Paul’s to destroy. Mrs. aflame, are symbols o f martyrdom.
Jameson, Sacred and Legendary A rt, I. Massinger, Virgin Martyr, V . 1: —
188, says : — “ W hat flowers are these ?
“ A t what period the sword was In Dioclesian’s gardens, the most beauteous
Compared with these are weeds.”
given to St. Paul as his distinctive at
tribute is with antiquaries a disputed 143. St. John, writer o f the Apoca
point ; certainly much later than the lypse ; here represented as asleep ; as
keys were given to Peter. I f we i f he were “ in the spirit on the Lord’s
day, and heard behind him a great from classic writers, or seen in early
voice as o f a trumpet.” O r perhaps mosaics, or witnessed in the streets o f
the allusion may be to the belief o f the Florence with her joyous population,
early Christians that John did not die, her May-day dancers, and the military
but was sleeping till the second coming pomp o f her magnificent Carroccio,
o f Christ. T h is subject has been re like the ark o f the covenant going forth
presented in mediaeval A rt as follows. w ith the host, has here been surpassed
Mrs. Jameson, Sacred and Legendary in invention and erudition, and a pic
A rt, I. 13 9 : — ture produced at once as original as
“ St. John, habited in priest’s gar it is impressive, as significant as it is
ments, descends the steps o f an altar grand. Petrarca was, probably, in
into an open grave, in w hich he lays debted to it for his ‘ T rionfi,, so
him self down, not in death, but in frequently in favor with Italian art
sleep, until the coming o f C hrist; ‘ be ists.
ing reserved alive w ith Enoch and E li “ T h is canto with the four that fol
jah (who also knew not death), to low form a poem w hich, though an
preach against the Antichrist in the essential portion o f the Divina Com-
last days.’ T h is fanciful legend is media, may be separately considered as
founded on the following text: ‘ Peter, the continuation o f the poetic vision
seeing the disciple whom Jesus loved mentioned in the Vita Nuova, and the
following, saith unto Jesus, Lord, and fulfilment o f the intention there ex
what shall this man do? Jesus saith pressed.
unto him, I f I w ill that he tarry till I “ It represents the symbolical pas
come, what is that to thee ? T h en sage o f the Christian Church, preceded
w ent this saying abroad among the by the H ebrew dispensation, and fol
brethren that that disciple should not lowed by the disastrous effects o f
die.’ (John x x i. 21, 22.)” schism, and the corruptions induced
154. O f this canto and those that by the unholy conduct o f political
follow , Barlow, Study o f the D iv . Com., Pontiffs. T h e soul o f this solemn ex
p. 270, says : — hibition, the living and glorified prin
“ Dante’s sublime pageant o f the ciple o f the beatitude which Religion
Church M ilitant is one o f the most pure and holy confers upon those who
marvellous processions ever marshalled embrace it, is personified in the ‘ D on
on paper. In the invention, arrange na,’ to whom Dante from his earliest
ment, grouping, and coloring the poet youth had been more or less devoted,
has shown him self a great master in the Beatrice o f the V ita Nuova, ‘ Loda
art, familiar with all the stately require di D io vera,’ who concentrates in her
ments o f solemn shows, festivals, and self the divine wisdom with which the
triumphs. W hatever he may have Church is inspired, whom angels de
gathered from the sacred records, and light to honor, and whose advent on
3 4 $ Notes
earth had been prepared from all eter symbolic o f the world, and forms a
nity by the moral virtues. throne for C h r is t: the Son o f G od is
“ Beatrice is here presented as the seated on its summit. T h e car is
principle o f divine beatitude, or that placed upon four wheels, and drawn
w hich confers it, and bears a resem by the four attributes or symbols of
blance to the figure o f the N ew Jerusa the Evangelists. T h e angel o f St.
lem seen by St. John descending from M atthew , and the eagle o f St. John,
heaven ‘ as a bride adorned for her are o f celestial whiteness ; the lion of
husband ’ {Rev. xxi. 2) ; a representa St. M ark, and the ox o f St. Luke, are
tion o f w hich, in the manner o f Ra o f a reddish yellow , symbolizing the
phael, occurs in one o f the tapestries earth on w hich they dwell. The
o f the Vatican, and, though not arrayed eagle and angel do, in fact, fly ; w hile
in the colors o f the Christian virtues, the lion and the ox walk. Y et upon
Faith, H ope, and Charity, white and the painted window all the four have
green and red, as was Beatrice, may wings. A rein o f silver, passing round
yet be regarded as a Roman version the neck o f each o f the four symbols,
o f her.” is attached to the pole o f the chariot.
D idron, describing the painting o f T h e Church, represented by the four
the Trium ph o f Christ in the Church most elevated religious potentates, by
o f Notre Dame de Brou, Christian the Pope, the Cardinal, the A rch
Iconography, M illington’s T r ., I. 315, bishop, and Bishop, or by the four
says : — ch ief Fathers, St. G regory, St. Jerome,
“ In the centre o f all rises the Hero St. Ambrose, and St. Augustine, drives
o f the Trium ph, Jesus Christ, who is the four-wheeled car, and, in conjunc
seated in an open car with four wheels. tion with the Evangelists, urges it on
H e alone is adorned with a nimbus ward. Jesus guides his triumph, not
formed o f rays, departing from each holding reins, but shedding blessings
point o f the head, and w hich illumines from his right hand wherever he
everything around. W ith one glance passes.
he embraces the past which precedes, “ T h e entire assemblage o f persons
and the future which is to succeed him. represented on the window are seen
H is face resembles that drawn by Ra marching onwards, singing w ith joy.
phael and the masters o f the period o f W ithin the spaces formed by the mul-
Renaissance, agreeing with the descrip lions which trellis the upper part of
tion given by Lentulus and Damasce- the window, forty-six angels are repre
nus ; it is serious and gentle. In the sented w ith long golden hair, white
centre o f the chariot is placed a starry transparent robes, and wings o f yellow ,
globe traversed by the ecliptic, on red, violet, and gree n ; they are all
w hich the twelve signs o f the zodiac painted on a background o f azure, like
are brilliantly figured. T h is globe is the sky, and celebrate w ith blended
voices, or w ith musical instruments, o f Brou ; the chariot is empty, and

the glory o f Christ. Some have in Dante neither discovered this deficien
their hands instruments o f different cy, nor was concerned to rectify i t ;
forms, others books o f music. The for he was less anxious to celebrate
four animals o f the Evangelists seem Christ and his doctrine, for their own
with sonorous voice to swell the accla sake, than as connected with the or
mations o f the hosts o f saints ; the ox ganization and administration o f the
w ith his bellowing, the lion w ith his Church. H e described the car as
roar, the eagle w ith his cry, and the drawn by a griffin, thereby represent
angel w ith his song, accompany the ing the Pope, for the griffin unites in
songs o f the forty-six angels who fill itself the characteristics o f both eagle
the upper part o f the window. A t the and lion. N o w the Pope is also tw o
head o f the procession is an angel who fold in character ; as priest he is the
leads the entire company, and, with a eagle floating in the air ; as king, he is
little cross w hich he holds in his hand, a lion, walking upon the earth. T h e
points out to all the Paradise they are Ultramontane poet regarded the Church,
to enter. Finally, twelve other an that is the Papacy, in the light o f an
gels, blue as the heaven into w hich absolute m onarchy; not a limited mon
they melt, join in adoration before the archy as w ith us, and still less a re
triumph of Christ. . . . . public, as amongst the schismatics of
“ Dante has given a description o f a Greece and o f the East. Consequent
similar triumph, but marked by some ly , w hile, at Brou, the Cardinal, the
interesting differences. T h e Floren Archbishop, and Bishop assist the Pope
tine poet formed his cortege o f figures in guiding the car o f the Church,
taken from the Apocalypse and Chris in the ‘ Divina Commedia,’ the Pope
tian symbolism. A t Brou, with the is alone, and accepts o f no assistance
exception o f the attributes o f the Evan from the other great ecclesiastical dig
gelists, everything is historical. In nitaries. A t Brou the car is guided by
the sixteenth century, in fact, history the Evangelists, or by their attributes ;
began to predominate over symbol ecclesiastical power is content merely
ism, w hich in the thirteenth and four to lend its aid. According to the Ital
teenth centuries had reigned supreme. ian poet, the Evangelists, although pres
Dante, who was a politic poet, drew ent at the Trium ph, do not conduct
the triumph, not o f Christ, but o f i t ; the Pope is him self the sole guide
the Church ; the triumph o f Catholi o f the Church, and permits neither
cism rather than o f Christianity. T h e the Evangelists to direct nor ecclesias
chariot by w hich he represents the tics to assist him. T h e Pope seems to
Church is widowed o f Christ, whose require no assistance ; his eye and arm
figure is so important on the w indow alone are sufficient for him .”
350 \ ’ r\ Notes
c a n t o xxx.
i . In this canto Beatrice appears. 19. T h e cry o f the multitude at

T h e Seven Stars, or Septentrion o f Christ’s entry into Jerusalem. M at
the highest heaven, are the seven lights thew xxi. 9 : “ Blessed is he that com-
that lead the procession, the seven gifts eth in the name o f the L ord.”
o f the H oly Ghost, by which all men 21. jEneid, V I . 833 : “ G ive me
are guided safely in things spiritual, as lilies in handfuls; let me scatter pur
the mariner is by the Septentrion, or ple flowers.”
Seven Stars o f the Ursa M inor, two o f 25. M ilton, Parad. Lost, I. 194: —
which are called the “ Wardens o f the “ A s when the sun new-risen
P ole,” and one o f w hich is the C yn o Shines through the horizontal misty air
sure, or Pole Star. T hese lights pre tShorn o f his beams.”
cede the triumphal chariot, as in our 32. It w ill be observed that Dante
heaven the Ursa M inor precedes, or is makes Beatrice appear clothed in the
nearer the centre o f rest, than the Ursa colors o f the three Theological Virtues
Major or Charles’s W ain. described in Canto X X IX . 121. T h e
In the Northern M ythology the G od white veil is the symbol o f Faith ; the
T h o r is represented as holding these green mantle, o f Hope ; the red tunic,
constellations in his hand. T h e old o f Charity. T h e crown o f olive de
Swedish Rhyme Chronicley describing notes wisdom. T h is attire somewhat
the statues in the church o f Upsala, resembles that given by artists to the
says : — V irgin. “ T h e proper dress o f the
“ T h e God T h o r was the highest o f them ;
V irg in ,” says M rs. Jameson, Legends o f
H e sat naked as a child, the Madonna, Introd., liii., “ is a close,
Seven stars in his hand and Charles’s W ain. red tunic, with long sleeves, and over
Spenser, Faerie Queene, I. ii. I : — this a blue robe or mantle............Her
head ought to be veiled.”
By this the northern wagoner had set
35. Beatrice had been dead ten
His sevenfold teme behind the steadfast
starre
years at the date o f the poem, 1300.
T h a t was in ocean waves yet never wet, 36. Fully to understand and feel
But firme is fixt, and sendeth ligh t from what is expressed in this line, the
farre reader must call to mind all that Dante
T o all that in the wide deep wandering arre.” says in the Vita Nuova o f his meetings
i i . Song of Solomon iv. 8 : “ Come with Beatrice, and particularly the first,
w ith me from Lebanon, my spouse, w hich is thus rendered by M r. Norton
w ith me from Lebanon.” in his New Life o f Dante, p. 20 : — -
17. A t the voice o f so venerable an “ N ine times now, since my birth,
old man. the heaven o f light had turned almost
Purgatorio xxx. 351
to the same point in its gyration, when “ From this time forward I say that
first appeared before my eyes the glori Love lorded it over my soul, w hich
ous lady o f my mind, who was called had been thus quickly put at his dis
Beatrice by many who did not know posal ; and he began to exercise over
w hy they thus called her. She had me such control and such lordship,
now been in this life so long, that in through the power which my imagi
its course the starry heaven had moved nation gave to him, that it behoved me
toward the east one o f the twelve to perform completely all his pleasure.
parts o f a degree ; so that about the H e commanded me many times that
beginning o f her ninth year she ap I should seek to see this youthful an
peared to me, and I near the end o f gel, so that I in my boyhood often
my ninth year saw her. She appeared went seeking her, and saw her o f such
to me clothed in a most noble color, a noble and praiseworthy deportment,
becoming and modest crimson, and she that truly o f her might be said that
was girt and adorned in the style that saying o f the poet Homer : ‘ She does
became her extreme youth. A t that not seem the daughter o f mortal man,
instant, I say truly, the spirit o f life, but o f G o d .’ And though her image,
w hich dw'ells in the most secret cham w hich stayed constantly with me, in
ber o f the heart, began to tremble spired confidence in Love to hold lord
with such violence, that it appeared ship over me, yet it was o f such noble
fearfully in the least pulses, and, trem virtue, that it never suffered that Love
bling, said these words : Ecce deus for- should rule without the faithful counsel
tior me, qui veniens dominabitur m ihi! o f Reason in those matters in w hich
‘ Behold a god, stronger than I, w ho, such counsel could be useful.”
coming, shall rule me ! * 48. Dante here translates V irgil’s
“ A t that instant, the spirit o f the own words, as he has done so many
soul, w hich dwells in the high cham times before. JEneid, IV . 23 : Agnosco
ber to w hich all the spirits o f the veteris vestigia flamma.
senses bring their perceptions, began 52. T h e Terrestrial Paradise lost
to marvel greatly, and, addressing the by Eve.
spirits o f the sight, said these words : 83. Psalm x x xi. 1 , 8 : “ In thee,
Apparuit jam beatitudo vestra,— ‘ N ow O Lord,- have I put my trust............
hath appeared your bliss.* A t that T h ou hast set my feet in a large room.”
instant the natural spirit, w hich dwells 85. Êneid, V I . 180: “ D ow n drop
in that part where the nourishment is the firs ; crashes, by axes felled, the
supplied, began to w eep, and, w eep i l e x ; and the ashen rafters and the
ing, said these words : Heu miser! quia yielding oaks are cleft by wedges.**
frequenter i’mpeditus ero deinceps,— * W oe And IX . 87 : “ A wood . . . . dark
is me wretched ! because frequently w ith gloomy firs, and rafters o f the
henceforth shall I be hindered.* maple.”
352 Notes
Denistoun, Mem. o f the Duke o f Ur- “ O noble conscience, and without a stain,
bino, I. 4, says: “ On the summit grew H ow sharp a sting is trivial fault to th e e ! ”
those magnificent pines, which gave to T h is should be borne in mind when

the district o f Massa the epithet o f w e read what Dante says o f his own
Trabaria, from the beams w hich were shortcomings ; as, for instance, in his
carried thence for the palaces o f Rome, conversation w ith his brother-in-law
and w hich are noticed by Dante as Forese, Canto X X III. 1 1 5 : —
‘ T h e living rafters
“ I f thou bring back to mind
Upon the back o f Italy.’ ”
W h a t thou w ith me hast been and I with thee,
87. Shakespeare, Winter's Tale, IV . T h e present memory w ill be grievous still.”
3 :— But what shall w e say o f this sonnet
“ T h e fanned snow
addressed to Dante by his intimate
T h a t ’s bolted by the northern blast twice o’er.”
friend, Guido Cavalcanti ? Rossetti,
And Midsummer Night's Dream : —
Ehrly Italian Poets, p. 358 : —
“ H igh Taurus’ snow
Fanned with the eastern w ind.” “ I come to thee by daytime constantly,
But in thy thoughts too much o f baseness
113. W hich are formed in such find :
lofty regions, that they are beyond hu Greatly it grieves me for thy gentle mind,
man conception. A n d for thy many virtues gone from thee.
125. Beatrice died in 1290, at the It was thy wont to shun much company,
Unto all sorry concourse ill inclined :
age o f twenty-five.
A n d still thy speech o f m e, heartfelt and
136. H ow far these self-accusations kind,
o f Dante were justified by facts, and Had made me treasure up thy poetry.
how far they may be regarded as ex But now I dare not, for thine abject life,
pressions o f a sensitive and excited M ak e manifest that I approve thy rhymes;
conscience, w e have no means o f de N or come I in such sort that thou may’st
know .
termining. It is doubtless but simple
A h ! prythee read this sonnet many times :
justice to apply to him the words So shall that evil one who bred this strife
w hich he applies to V irgil, Canto Be thrust from thy dishonored soul, and
III. 8: — go.”
C A N T O XXXI.
1. In this canto Dante, having made her discourse to her attendant hand-
confession o f his sins, is drawn by Ma- maidens around the chariot. N o w she
tilda through the river Lethe. speaks directly to Dante.
2. Hitherto Beatrice has directed 25. As in a castle or fortress.
Ptcrgatorio xxxi. 353
30. As one fascinated and enamored A risk incur that it may cost my life ;
w ith them. For I received a wound so deep and wide
From one I saw entrenched within her eyes,
42. T h e sword o f justice is dulled
T h a t still I weep, nor peace I since have
by the wheel being turned against its
know n .”
edge. T h is is the usual interpretation;
but a friend suggests that the allusion Others think the allusion is general.
may be to the wheel o f St. Catherine, T h e Ottimo says: “ Neither that young
which is studded with sword-blades. woman, whom in his Rime he called
46. T h e grief w hich is the cause o f Pargoletta, nor that Lisetta, nor that
your weeping. other mountain maiden, nor this one,
59. T here is a good deal o f gossip nor that other.” H e might have added
ing among the commentators about this the lady o f Bologna, o f whom Dante
little girl or Pargoletta. Some sup sings in one o f his sonnets : —
pose it to be the same as the Gentucca “ And I may say
T h a t in an evil hour I saw Bologna,
o f Canto X X I V . 37, and the Pargo
A n d that fair lady whom I looked upon.”
letta o f one o f the poems in the Can-
zoniere, w hich in M r. L y e ll’s trans Buti gives a different interpretation
lation runs as follows : — o f the word pargoletta, making it the
‘ ‘ Ladies, behold a maiden fair, and young;
same as pargulta or pargolezza, “ child
T o you I come heaven’s beauty to display, ishness or indiscretion o f youth.”
A n d manifest the place from whence I In all this unnecessary confusion one
am. thing is quite evident. As Beatrice is
In heaven I dwelt, and thither shall return, speaking o f the past, she could not
Joy to impart to angels with my light.
possibly allude to Gentucca, who is
H e who shall me behold nor be enamored,
O f Love shall never comprehend the charm ;
spoken o f as one who would make
For every pleasing gift was freely given, Lucca pleasant to Dante at some fu
W h en Nature sought the grant o f me from ture time : —
him
“ ‘ A maid is born, and wears not yet the veil,’
W h o willed that your companion I should
Began he, ‘ who to thee shall pleasant make
be.
M y city, howsoever men may blame it.’ ”
Each star upon my eyes its influence sheds,
And with its light and virtue I am blest : Upon the w hole, the interpretation
Beauties are mine the world hath never o f the Ottimo is the most satisfactory,
seen,
For I obtained them in the realms above;
or at all events the least open to objec
And ever must their essence rest unknow n, tion.
Unless through consciousness o f him in 63. Proverbs i. 1 7 : “ Surely in vain
whom the net is spread in the sight o f any
Love shall abide through pleasure o f an bird.”
other.
72. Iarbas, king o f Gaetulia, from
These words a youthful angel bore inscribed
Upon her brow, whose vision we b eheld ; whom Dido bought the land for build
A n d I , who to find safety gazed on her, ing Carthage.
V O L. II. 45
354 Notes
77. T h e angels described in Canto See Canto X X IX . 130 : —
X X X . 20, as “ Upon the left hand four made holiday
“ Scattering flowers above and round about.” Vested in purple.”
92. Matilda, described in Canto 106. See Canto I. N ote 23.

X X V II I. 40 : — h i . These four Cardinal Virtues
“ A lady all alone, who went along lead to Divine Wisdom, but the three
Singing and culling floweret after floweret, Evangelical Virtues quicken the sight
W ith w hich her pathway was all painted to penetrate more deeply into it.
over.” 114. Standing upon the chariot still;
95. Bunyan, Pilgrim's Progress, the she does not alight till line 36 o f the
river without a bridge : — next canto.
“ N ow I further saw that betw ixt 116. T h e color o f Beatrice’s eyes has
them and the gate was a river ; but not been passed over in silence by the
there was no bridge to go over : the commentators. Lani, in his Annota-
river was very deep. A t the sight zioni, says: T h e y were o f a greenish
therefore o f this river, the pilgrims blue, like the color o f the sea.” M e-
were much stunned ; but the men that chior Messirini, who thought he had
went with them said, ‘ You must go discovered a portrait o f Beatrice as
through, or you cannot come at the old as the fourteenth century, affirms
gate.’ . . . . that she had “ splendid brown eyes.”
“ T h e y then addressed themselves Dante here calls them emeralds ; upon
to the water, and, entering, Christian w hich the Ottimo comments thus :
began to sink, and crying out to his “ Dante very happily introduces this
good friend Hopeful, he said, * I sink precious stone, considering its proper
in deep waters ; the billows go over ties, and considering that griffins watch
my head, all his waves go over me. over emeralds. T h e emerald is the
Selah.’ ___ prince o f all green stones ; no gem nor
“ N ow upon the bank o f the river, herb has greater greenness ; it reflects
on the other side, they saw the two an image like a mirror ; increases
shining men again, who there waited wealth ; is useful in litigation and to
for them. W herefore being come out orators ; is good for convulsions and
o f the river, they saluted them, saying, epilepsy; preserves and strengthens the
‘ W e are ministering spirits, sent forth sight; restrains lust; restores m em ory;
to minister for those that shall be heirs is powerful against phantoms and de
o f salvation.’ ” mons; calms tempests; stanches blood,
98. Psalms li. 7 : “ Purge me with and is useful to soothsayers.”
hyssop, and I shall be clean : wash me T h e beauty o f green eyes, ojuelos
and I shall be whiter than snow.” V erd es, is extolled by Spanish poets ;
104. T h e four attendant Nym phs and is not left unsung by poets o f other
on the left o f the triumphal chariot. countries. Lycophron in his “ tene
brous poem ” o f Cassandra, says o f lion. T h e two natures, divine and hu
A c h ille s: — man, o f Christ are reflected in T h eo l
u Lo ! the w arlike eagle come, ogy, or D ivine Wisdom. Didron, who
Green o f eye, and black o f plum e.” thinks the Griffin a symbol o f the Pope,
And in one o f the old French M ys applies this to his spiritual and tempo
teries, Hist. Tbeat. Fran$., I. 176, ral pow er: “ As priest he is the eagle
Joseph describes the child Jesus as floating in the air ; as king he is a lion
having walking on the earth.”
“ Les yeulx vers, la chair blanche et tendre 132. T h e Italian Caribo, like the
Les cheveulx blonds.” English Carol or Roundelay, is both
122. Monster is here used in the song and dance. Some editions read
sense o f marvel or prodigy. in this line “ singing,” instead o f
123. N o w as an eagle, now as a “ dancing.”
C A N T O XXXII.
1. A mystical canto, in w hich is de o f the garden thou mayest freely eat.
scribed the tree o f the forbidden fruit, But o f the tree o f the knowledge o f
and other wonderful and mysterious good and evil, thou shalt not eat o f i t :
things. for in the day that thou eatest thereof,
2. Beatrice had been dead ten years. thou shalt surely die.”
10. G oethe, Hermann and Dorothea, Some commentators suppose that
Cochrane’s T r ., p. 103 : — Dante’s mystic tree is not only the
E v ’n as the wanderer, w ho, ere the sun dips tree o f knowledge o f good and evil,
his orb in the ocean, but also a symbol o f the Roman Em
One last look still takes o f the day-god, fast pire.
disappearing;
4 1. V irgil, Georgies, IT. 123 : “ T h e
T h e n , amid rocks rude-piled, umbrageous
groves w hich India, nearer the ocean,
forests, and copsewoods,
Sees his similitude float, wherever he fixes
the utmost skirts of the globe, pro
his vision ; duces, where no arrows by their flight
Finding it glancing before him , and dancing have been able to surmount the airy
in magical colors.” summit o f the tree ; and yet that na
35. A disfrenata saetta, an uncurbed tion is not slow at archery.”
arrow, like that w hich Pandarus shot 43. Christ’s renunciation o f tempo
at Menelaras, Iliad, I V . 12 4 : “ T h e ral power.
sharp-pointed arrow sprang forth, eager 5 1. T h e pole o f the chariot, w hich
to rush among the crow d.” was made o f this tree, he left bound to
38. Genesis ii. 1 6 : “ O f every tree the tree.
356 Notes
Buti says : “ T h is chariot represents Ruskin, Mod. Painters, III. 226,
the H oly Church, w hich is the con says: “ Some three arrow-flights farther
gregation o f the faithful, and the pole up into the wood w e come to a tall
o f this chariot is the cross o f Christ, tree, w hich is at first barren, but, after
w hich he bore upon his shoulders, so some little time, visibly opens into
that the author well represents him as flowers, o f a color ‘ less than that o f
dragging the pole w ith his neck.” roses, but more than that o f violets.’
r
T h e statement that the cross was made It certainly would not be possible,
o f the tree o f knowledge, is founded in words, to come nearer to the defini
on an old legend. W hen Adam was tion o f the exact hue w hich Dante
dying, he sent his son Seth to the meant, — that o f the apple-blossom .
Garden o f Paradise to bring him some Had he employed any simple color-
drops o f the oil o f the mercy o f G od. phrase, as a ‘ pale pink,’ or ‘ violet
T h e angel at the gate refused him en pink^’ or any other such combined
trance, but gave him a branch from the expression, he still could not have
tree o f knowledge, and told him to completely got at the delicacy o f the
plant it upon Adam ’s grave ; and that, hue ; he might perhaps have indicated
when it should bear fruit, then should its kind, but not its tenderness ; but
Adam receive the oil o f G od ’s mercy. by taking the rose-leaf as the type o f
T h e branch grew into a tree, but never the delicate red, and then enfeebling
bore fruit till the passion o f C h rist; this w ith the violet gray, he gets, as
but “ o f a branch o f this tree and o f closely as language can carry him, to
other w ood,” says Buti, “ the cross the complete rendering o f the vision,
was made, and from that branch was though it is evidently felt by him to
suspended such sweet fruit as the body be in its perfect beauty ineffable ; and
o f our Lord Jesus Christ, and then rightly so felt, for o f all lovely things
Adam and other saints had the oil o f w hich grace the spring-time in our fair
mercy, inasmuch as they were taken temperate zone, I am not sure but this
from Limbo and led by Christ into blossoming o f the apple-tree is the
eternal life.” fairest.”
54. In the month o f February, 65. T h e eyes o f Argus, whom M er
when the sun is in the constellation cury lulled asleep by telling him the
o f the Fishes. Dante here gives it story o f Syrinx, and then put to death.
the title o f the Lasca, the Roach or O vid, M et., I., D ryden’s T r . : —
M ullet. “ W hile Hermes piped, and sung, and told
58. T h e red and white o f the apple- his tale,
T h e keeper’s w in kin g eyes began to fail,
blossoms is symbolical o f the blood and
And drowsy slumber on the lids to creep ;
water which flowed from the wound
T ill all the watchman was at length asleep.
in Christ’s side. A t least so thinks T h en soon the god his voice and song sup-
V ellutelli. presr,
An d with his powerful rod confirmed his re st; smiting it, mean the persecution o f the
W ithout delay his crooked falchion drew, H o ly Church and o f the Christians by
A n d at one fatal stroke the keeper slew .”
the Emperors, as appears in the chron
73. T h e Transfiguration. T h e pas icles down to the time o f Constan
sage in the Song o f Solomon, ii. 3, “ As tine.”
the apple-tree among the trees o f the 119. T h e fox is Heresy.
wood, so is my beloved among the 126. T h e gift o f Constantine to the
sons,” is interpreted as referring to Church. I n f X IX . 125 : —
Christ ; and Dante here calls the “ A h , Constantine ! o f how much woe was
mother,
Transfiguration the blossoming o f that
N ot thy conversion, but that marriage-
tree. dower
77. M atthew xvii. 5 : “ W hile he W h ich the first wealthy Father took from
yet spake, behold, a bright cloud over thee ! ”
shadowed them : and, behold, a voice 131. Mahomet. Revelation xii. 3 :
out o f the cloud, w hich said, T h is is “ And there appeared another wonder
my beloved Son, in whom I am w ell in heaven ; and, behold, a great red
pleased; hear ye him. And when the dragon, having seven heads and ten
disciples heard it, they fell on their horns, and seven crowns upon his
face, and were sore afraid. And Jesus heads. And his tail drew the third
came and touched them, and said, part o f the stars o f heaven, and did
Arise, and be not afraid. And when cast them to the earth.”
they had lifted up their eyes, they saw 144. T hese seven heads, say the
no man, save Jesus only.” Ottimo and others, “ denote the seven
82. Matilda. deadly sins.” But Biagioli, following
98. T h e seven Virtues holding the Buti, says : “ T h ere is no doubt that
seven golden candlesticks, or the seven these heads and the horns represent
gifts o f the H o ly Spirit. the same that we have said in Canto
112. T h e descent o f the eagle upon X IX . o f the Inferno ; namely, the ten
the tree is interpreted by Buti as the horns, the T e n Commandments o f
persecution o f the Christians by the God ; and the seven heads, the Seven
Emperors. T h e rending o f the bark Sacraments o f the C hurch.” Never
o f the tree is the “ breaking down o f was there a wider difference o f inter
the constancy and fortitude o f holy pretation. T h e context certainly fa
men ” ; the blossoms are “ virtuous vors the first.
examples or prayers,” and the new 150. Pope Boniface the Eighth.
leaves, “ the virtuous deeds that holy 152. Philip the Fourth o f France.
men had begun to do, and w hich were For his character see Canto X X .
interrupted by these persecutions.” N ote 43.
115 . Buti says: “ T h is descent of 156. T h is alludes to the maltreat
the eagle upon the chariot, and the ment o f Boniface by the troops of
353 Notes
Philip at Alagna. See Canto X X . tues Cardinal and Evangelical ; the
N ote 87. seven candlesticks, the seven gifts o f
159. T h e removal o f the Papal See the H oly Spirit ; the tree o f knowl
from Rome to Avignon. edge, Rome ; the Eagle, the Imperial
T h e principal points o f the allegory p o w e r; the F ox, heresy ; the Dragon,
o f this canto may be summed up as M ahom et; the shameless whore, Pope
follows. T h e triumphal chariot, the Boniface the Eighth ; and the giant,
Church ; the seven N ym phs, the V ir- Philip the Fair o f France.
C A N T O XXX III.
1. In this canto Dante is made to 3'6. In the olden time in Florence,

drink o f the river Eunoe, the memory i f an assassin could contrive to eat a
o f things good. sop o f bread and wine at the grave o f
Psalm lx x ix ., beginning : “ O G od , the murdered man, within nine days
the heathen are come into thine in after the murder, he was free from the
heritance ; thy holy temple have they vengeance o f the family ; and to pre
defiled.” T h e three Evangelical and vent this they kept watch at the tomb.
four Cardinal Virtues chant this psalm, T h ere is no evading the vengeance o f
alternately responding to each other. God in this way. Such is the inter
7. W hen their singing was ended. pretation o f this passage by all the old
10. John xvi. 16 : “ A little w hile, commentators.
and ye shall not see m e: and again, a 37. T h e Roman Empire shall not
little w hile, and ye shall see me ; be always be without an Emperor, as it
cause I go to the Father.” was then in the eyes o f Dante, w ho
In order to make the lines rhythmi counted the “ German Albert ” Alberto
cal, the Latin words must be chanted, tedesco, as no Emperor, because he
with an equal emphasis on each syl never came into Italy. See the appeal
lable. to him, Canto V I. 96, and the male
15. Dante, Matilda, and Statius. diction, because he suffered
27. As in Canto X X X I. 7 : — “ T h e garden o f the empire to be waste.”
“ M y faculties were in so great confusion, 43. T h e Roman numerals making

T h a t the voice moved, but sooner was extinct
D V X , or Leader. T h e allusion is to
Th an by its organs it was set at large.”
H enry o f Luxem burgh, in whom Dante
34. Is no longer what it was. Rev placed his hopes o f the restoration o f
elation xvii. 8 : “ T h e beast that thou the Imperial power. H e was the suc
rawest was, and is not.” cessor o f the German A lbert o f the
preceding note, after an interregnum o f w ho ever and secretly layeth snares
one year. H e died in 1312, shortly for human prosperity, — disinheriting
after his coronation in Rome. See some o f those who were w illing, —
Canto V I. N ote 97. impiously, in the absence o f our pro
V illani, though a G uelf, pays this tector, despoiled us also, who were
tribute o f respect to his memory, Book unwilling. W herefore we wept long
IX . Ch. 1 : “ H e was wise and just by the rivers o f confusion, and inces
and gracious, valiant in arms, dignified, santly implored the protection o f the
and ca th o lic; and although o f low just king, to scatter the satellites o f
estate in lineage, he was o f a magnani the cruel tyrant, and restore us to our
mous heart, feared and redoubted, and just rights. And when thou, succes
i f he had lived longer, he would have sor o f Caesar and o f Augustus, crossing
done great things.” the chain o f the Apennines, brought
W hen H enry entered Italy in Sep back the venerable Tarpeian ensigns,
tember, 1310, Dante hastened to meet our long sighings straightway ceased,
him, full o f faith and hope. W hether the fountains o f our tears were stayed,
this interview took place at Susa, T u and a new hope o f a better age, like a
rin, or M ilan, is uncertain ; nor is sun suddenly risen, shed its beams over
there any record o f it, except the allu Latium. T h en many, breaking forth
sion in the following extract from a into jubilant vows, sang with Mars the
letter o f Dante, “ written in Tuscany, Saturnian reign, and the return o f the
at the sources o f the Arno, on the V irgin.
14th o f M ay, 1 3 1 1 , in the first year “ But since our sun (whether the
o f the happy journey o f the divine fervor o f desire suggests it, or the
H enry into Italy.” Dante was dis aspect o f truth) is already believed to
appointed that his hero should linger have delayed, or is supposed to be
so long in the Lombard towns, and going back in his course, as i f a new
wished him to march at once against Joshua or the son o f Amos had com
Florence, the monster “ that drinketh manded, we are compelled in our un
neither o f the headlong Po, nor o f thy certainty to doubt, and to break forth
T y b e r .” In this letter, M r. G reene’s in the words o f the Forerunner : f A rt
T r ., he says : — thou he that should come, or look we
“ T h e inheritance o f peace, as the for another?’ And although the fury
immense love o f G od witnesseth, was o f long thirst turns into doubt, as is its
left us, that in the marvellous sweet wont, the things w hich are certain be
ness thereof our hard warfare might cause they are near, nevertheless we
be softened, and by the use thereof believe and hope in thee, asserting
w e might deserve the joys o f our tri thee to be the minister o f G od, and
umphant country. But the hatred o f the son o f the Church, and the pro
the ancient and implacable enemy, moter o f the Roman glory. And I,
360 Notes
who write as w ell for m yself as for 49. T h e Naiades having undertaken
others, when my hands touched thy to solve the enigmas o f oracles, T h e
feet and my lips performed their office, mis, offended, sent forth a w ild beast
saw thee most benignant, as becometh to ravage the flocks and fields o f the
the Imperial majesty, and heard thee Thebans ; though w hy they should
most clement. T h en my spirit ex have been held accountable for the
ulted within me, and I silently said to doings o f the Naiades is not very ob
myself, ‘ Behold the lamb o f G od, who vious. T h e tradition is founded on a
taketh away the sins o f the w orld.” passage in O vid, M et., V I I . 757 : —
Dante, Par. X X X . 133, sees the “ Carmina Naiades non intellecta priorum
crown and throne that await the “ no Solvunt.”
ble H enry ” in the highest heaven : —
Heinsius and other critics say that the
“ On that great throne on w hich thine eyes are lines should read,
fixed
*■
' Carmina Laiades non intellecta priorum
For the crown’s sake already placed upon it,
Solverat
Before thou suppest at this wedding feast,
Shall sit the soul (that is to be Augustus referring to CEdipus, son o f Laius. But
O n earth) o f noble Henry, who shall come Rosa Moranda maintains the old read
T o reform Italy ere she be prepared.” ing, and says there is authority in Pau-
sanias for making the Naiades inter
47. Them is, the daughter o f Ccelus
preters o f oracles.
and T erra, whose oracle was famous in
54. Coplas de Manrique: —
A ttica, and who puzzled Deucalion and
Pyrrha by telling them that, in order “ Our cradle is the starting place,
Life is the running o f the race.”
to repeople the earth after the deluge,
they must throw “ their mother’s bones 57. First by the Eagle, who rent its
behind them.” bark and leaves ; then by the giant,
T h e Sphinx, the famous monster w ho bore away the chariot w hich had
born o f C him era, and having the head been bound to it.
o f a woman, the wings o f a bird, the 6 1. T h e sin o f Adam, and the death
body o f a dog, and the paws o f a lion ; o f Christ.
and whose riddle, “ W hat animal walks 66. W idening at the top, instead o f
on four legs in the morning, on two at diminishing upward like other trees.
noon, and on three at night ? ” so puz 68. T h e Elsa is a river in Tuscany,
zled the Thebans, that King Creon rising in the mountains near C olle, and
offered his crown and his daughter flowing northward into the Arno, be
Jocasta to any one who should solve tween Florence and Pisa. Its waters
it, and so free the land o f the uncom have the power o f incrusting or petri
fortable monster ; a feat accomplished fying anything left in them. “ T h is
by CEdipus apparently without much power o f incrustation,” says Covino,
difficulty. Descriz. Geog. delP Italia, “ is espe-
d a lly manifest a little above C olle, 104. N oon o f the Fourth D ay o f

where a great pool rushes impetuously Purgatory.
from the ground.” 112. T w o o f the four rivers that
69. I f the vain thoughts thou hast watered Paradise. H ere they are
been immersed in had not petrified the same as Lethe and Eunoe, the
thee, and the pleasure o f them stained oblivion o f evil, and the memory o f
thee ; i f thou hadst not been good.’
“ Converted into stone and stained w ith sin.” 127. Bunyan, Pilgrim's Progress: —
78. T h e staff wreathed w ith palm, “ I saw then, that they went on
the cockle-shell in the hat, and the their way to a pleasant river, w hich
sandal-shoon were all marks o f the pil David the king called * the river o f
grim, showing he had been beyond G o d ’ ; but John, ‘ the river o f the
sea and in the H o ly Land. Thus in water o f life.’ N o w their way lay
the old ballad o f The Friar o f Orders just upon the bank o f the river : here
Gray : — therefore Christian and his compan
“ A n d how should I your truelove kno w ion walked w ith great d e lig h t: they
From many another one ? drank also o f the water o f the river,
O by his cockle-h at and staff, w hich was pleasant, and enlivening to
And by his sandal-shoone.” " their weary spirits. Besides, on the
In the Vita Nuova, M r. N orton’s T r ., banks o f this river, on either side, were
p. 7 1 , is this passage : “ M oreover, it green trees for all manner o f fr u it;
is to be known that the people who and the leaves they ate to prevent sur
travel in the service o f the Most H igh feits and other diseases that are inci
are called by three distinct terms. dent to those that heat their blood by
Those who go beyond the sea, whence travels. On either side o f the river
often they bring back the palm, are was also a meadow, curiously beauti
called palmers. Those who go to the fied w ith lilie s ; and it was green all
house o f Galicia are called pilgrims, be the year long. In this meadow they
cause the burial-place o f St. James was lay down and slept ; for here they
more distant from his country than that might lie down safely. W hen they
o f any other o f the Apostles. And those awoke, they gathered again o f the
are called romei who go to Rome.” fruits o f the trees, and drank again o f
85. H ow far Philosophy differs from the water o f the river, and then lay
Religion. Isaiah lv. 8 : “ For my down again to sleep.”
thoughts are not your thoughts, neither 129. Sir John Denham says : —
are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. “ T h e sweetest cordial we receive at last
For as the heavens are higher than Is conscience o f our virtuous actions past.’ *
the earth, so are my ways higher than 145. T h e last word in this division
your ways, and my thoughts than your o f the poem, as in the other tw o, is
thoughts.” the suggestive word “ Stars.”
VOL. II. 46
ILLUSTRATIONS
. -V i,'.
ILLUSTRATIONS
T H E H E R O AS P O E T .
From Heroes and Hero Worship, by Thomas Carlyle.
M any volumes have been written by T h ere is in it, as foundation o f it, the
way o f commentary on Dante and his softness, tenderness, gentle affection as
B o o k ; yet, on the w hole, w ith no o f a child ; but all this is as i f con
great result. H is biography is, as it gealed into sharp contradiction, into
were, irrecoverably lost for us. An abnegation, isolation, proud, hopeless
unimportant, wandering, sorrow-strick pain. A soft, ethereal soul looking out
en man, not much note was taken o f so stern, implacable, grim-trenchant,
him while he lived ; and the most o f as from imprisonment o f thick-ribbed
that has vanished, in the long space ice ! W ithal it is a silent pain too,
that now intervenes. It is five centu a silent, scornful one : the lip is curled
ries since he ceased w riting and living in a kind o f godlike disdain o f the
here. After all commentaries, the Book thing that is eating out his heart, — as
itself is mainly what w e know o f him. i f it were withal a mean, insignificant
T h e Book, — and one might add that thing, as i f he whom it had power to
Portrait commonly attributed to G iot torture and strangle were greater than
to, w hich, looking on it, you cannot it. T h e face o f one w holly in protest,
help inclining to think genuine, w ho and life-lo n g , unsurrendering battle,
ever did it. T o me it is a most against the world. Affection all con
touching fa c e ; perhaps, o f all faces verted into indignation ; an implacable
that I know, the most so. Lonely indignation ; slow, equable, silent, like
there, painted as on vacancy, w ith the that o f a god ! T h e eye too, it looks
simple laurel wound round i t ; the out as in a kind o f surpriset a kind o f
deathless sorrow and pain, the known inquiry, W h y the world was o f such
victory w hich is also deathless; — sig a sort ? T h is is Dante : so he looks,
nificant o f the w hole history o f Dante! this “ voice o f ten silent centuries,”
I think it is the mournfulest face that and sings us “ his mystic, unfathomable
ever was painted from reality; an al song.”
together tragic, heart-affecting face. T h e little that w e know o f Dante’s
366 Illustrations
Life corresponds w ell enough with this great figure in Dante’s P oem s; seems
Portrait and this Book. H e was born to have made a great figure in his life.
at Florence, in the upper class o f so O f all beings it might seem as i f she,
ciety, in the year 1265. H is educa held apart from him , far apart at last
tion was the best then going ; much in the dim Eternity, were the only
school-divinity, Aristotelean logic, some one he had ever w ith his whole strength
Latin classics, — no inconsiderable in o f affection loved. She died : Dante
sight into certain provinces o f things : him self was wedded ; but it seems not
and Dante, with his earnest, intelligent happily, far from happily. I fancy,
nature, we need not doubt, learned the rigorous, earnest man, w ith his keen
better than most all that was learnable. excitabilities, was not altogether easy
H e has a clear, cultivated understand to make happy.
ing, and o f great subtlety ; this best W e w ill not complain o f Dante’s
fruit o f education he had contrived to miseries : had all gone right w ith him
realize from these scholastics. He as he wished it, he might have been
knows accurately and w ell what lies Prior, Podestk, or whatsoever they call
close to h im ; but in such a time, it, o f Florence, w ell accepted among
without printed books or free inter neighbors, — and the world had wanted
course, he could not know w ell what one o f the most notable words ever
was distant: the small, clear light, most spoken or sung. Florence would have
luminous for what is near, breaks itself had another prosperous Lord M ayor ;
into singular chiaroscuro striking on and the ten dumb centuries continued
what is far off. T h is was Dante’s voiceless, and the ten other listening
learning from the schools. In life, he centuries (for there w ill be ten o f
had gone through the usual destinies; —^ them and more) had no Divina Com-
been twice out campaigning as a sol media to hear ! W e w ill complain o f
dier for the Florentine state; been on nothing. A nobler destiny was ap
embassy ; had in his thirty-fifth year, pointed for this Dante ; and he, strug
by natural gradation o f talent and ser gling like a man led towards death and
vice, become one o f the ch ief magis crucifixion, could not help fulfilling it.
trates o f Florence. H e had met in G ive him the choice o f his happiness !
boyhood a certain Beatrice Portinari, H e knew not, more than w e do, what
a beautiful little girl o f his own age was really happy, what was really
and rank, and grown up thenceforth in miserable.
partial sight o f her, in some distant In Dante’s Priorship, the Guelph-
intercourse with her. A ll readers G hibelline, B ian ch i-N eri, or some
know his graceful, affecting account o f other confused disturbances, rose to
this ; and then o f their being parted ; such a height, that Dante, whose party
o f her being wedded to another, and had seemed the stronger, was w ith his
o f her death soon after. She makes a friends cast unexpectedly forth into
The Hero as Poet 367
banishment; doomed thenceforth to a and buffoons (nebulones ac histriones)

life o f woe and wandering. His prop making him heartily m e rry ; when,
erty was all confiscated, and more ; he turning to Dante, he said : “ Is it not
had the fiercest feeling that it was en strange, now, that this poor fool should
tirely unjust, nefarious in the sight o f make him self so entertaining; w hile
G od and man. H e tried what was in you, a wise man, sit there day after
him to get reinstated ; tried even by day, and have nothing to amuse us
warlike surprisal, w ith arms in his w ith at all ? ” Dante answered bit
hand : but it would not do ; bad only terly : “ N o, not strange ; your H igh
had become worse. T h ere is a record, ness is to recollect the proverb, Like
I believe, still extant in the Florence to Like — given the amuser, the
Archives, dooming this Dante, w here amusee must also be given ! Such a
soever caught, to be burnt alive. Burnt man, w ith his proud, silent ways, w ith
alive ; so it stands, they say : a very his sarcasms and sorrows, was not made
curious civic document. Another curi to succeed at court. By degrees, it
ous document, some considerable num came to be evident to him that he had
ber o f years later, is a Letter o f Dante’s no longer any resting-place, or hope o f
to the Florentine Magistrates, written benefit, in this earth. T h e earthly
in answer to a milder proposal o f world had cast him forth, to wander ;
theirs, that he should return on con no living heart to love him now ; for
dition o f apologizing and paying a fine. his sore miseries there was no solace
H e answers, w ith fixed, stern pride : here.
€t I f I cannot return without calling T h e deeper naturally would the
m yself guilty, I w ill never return, nun- Eternal W orld impress itself on h im ;
quam r ever t a r ” that awful reality over w hich, after all,
For Dante there was now no home this T im e-w orld, w ith its Florences
in this world. H e wandered from and banishments, only flutters as an
patron to patron, from place to place ; unreal shadow. Florence thou shalt
proving, in his own bitter words, never see: but H ell and Purgatory and
“ H ow hard is the path, Come b duro Heaven thou shalt surely see ! W hat
calle.” T h e wretched are not cheer is Florence, Can della Scala, and the
ful company. Dante, poor and ban W orld and Life altogether? E ter
ished, with his proud, earnest nature, n it y : thither, o f a truth, not else
with his moody humors, was not a man w hither, art thou and all things bound!
to conciliate men. Petrarch reports T h e great soul o f Dante, homeless on
o f him, that being at Can della Scala’s earth, made its home more and more
court, and blamed one day for his in that awful other world. Naturally
gloom and taciturnity, he answered in his thoughts brooded on that, as on the
no courtier-like w ay. D ella Scala one fact important for him. Bodied
stood among his courtiers, w ith mimes or bodiless, it is the one fact important
368 Illustrations
for all m en: but to Dante, in that age, six ; — broken-hearted rather, as is
it was bodied in fixed certainty o f said. H e lies buried in his death-city
scientific shape ; he no more doubted Ravenna : Hie claudor Dantes patriis
o f that Malebolge Pool, that it all lay extorris ab orris. T h e Florentines
there with its gloomy circles, with its begged back his body, in a century
alti guaiy and that he him self should after ; the Ravenna people would not
see it, than we doubt that we should give it. “ Here am I Dante laid, shut
see Constantinople i f we went thither. out from my native shores.”
Dante’s heart, long filled with this, I said, Dante’s Poem was a Song :
brooding over it in speechless thought it is T ieck who calls it “ a mystic, un
and awe, bursts forth at length into fathomable S o n g ” ; and such is liter
“ mystic, unfathomable song” ; and this ally the character o f it. Coleridge
his Divine Comedy, the most remarkable remarks very pertinently somewhere,
o f all modern Books, is the result. It that^ wherever you find a sentence
must have been a great solacement to musically worded, o f true rhythm and
Dante, and was, as we can see, a proud melody in the words, there is some
thought for him at times, that he, thing deep and good in the meaning
here in exile, could do this w ork; that too. For body and soul, word and
no Florence, nor no man or men, could idea, go strangely together here as
hinder him from doing it, or even everywhere. Song : we said before,
much help him in doing it. H e knew it was the H eroic o f Speech! A ll old
too, partly, that it was great ; the Poems, Hom er’s and the rest, are au
greatest a man could do. “ I f thou thentically Songs. I would say, in
follow thy star, Se tu scgui tua stella, ” strictness, that all right Poems a r e ;
— so could the H ero, in his forsaken that whatsoever is not sung is properly
ness, in his extreme need, still say to no Poem, but a piece o f Prose cramped
h im self: “ Follow thou thy star, thou into jingling lines, — to the great injury
shalt not fail o f a glorious haven ! ” o f the grammar, to the great grief o f
T h e labor o f writing, we find, and in the reader, for most p a r t! W hat we
deed could know otherwise, was great want to get at is the thought the man
and painful for him ; he says, T h is had, if he had any : w hy should he
Book “ which has made me lean for twist it into jingle, i f he could speak it
many years.” Ah yes, it was won, all out plainly ? It is only when the
of it, with pain and sore toil, — not in heart o f him is rapt into true passion
sport, but in grim earnest. His Book, o f melody, and the very tones o f him,
as indeed most good Books are, has according to Coleridge’s remark, be
been written, in many senses, with his come musical by the greatness, depth,
heart’s blood. It is his whole history and music o f his thoughts, that we can
this Book. H e died after finishing it ; give him right to rhyme and sing; that
not yet very old, at the age o f fifty- w e call him a Poet, and listen to him
as the H eroic o f Speakers, — whose Paradiso, look out on one another like
speech is Song. Pretenders to this are compartments o f a great edifice; a great
m a n y ; and to an earnest reader, I supernatural world-cathedral, piled up
doubt, it is for most part a very mel there, stern, solemn, awful ; D ante’s
ancholy, not to say an insupport W orld o f Souls ! It is, at bottom,
able business, that o f reading rhyme ! the sincerest o f all Poems ; sincerity,
Rhym e that had no inward necessity here too, we find to be the measure
to be rhymed ; — it ought to have told o f worth. It came deep out o f the
us plainly, without any jingle, what it author’s heart o f hearts ; and it goes
was aiming at. I would advise all deep, and through long generations,
men who can speak their thought, not into ours. T h e people o f Verona,
to sing i t ; to understand that, in a when they saw him on the streets,
serious time, among serious men, there used to say : “ Eccovi F uom ch’ h stato
is no vocation in them for singing it. air Inferno, See, there is the man that
Precisely as w e love the true song, and was in H ell ! ” A h , yes, he had been
are charmed by it as by something in H e l l ; — in H ell enough, in long,
divine, so shall w e hate the false song, severe sorrow and struggle ; as the like
and account it a mere wooden noise, o f him is pretty sure to have been.
a thing hollow , superfluous, altogether Commedias that come out divine are
an insincere and offensive thing. not accomplished otherwise. T hought,
I give Dante my highest praise true labor o f any kind, highest virtue
when I say o f his Divine Comedy that itself, is it not the daughter o f Pain ?
it is, in all senses, genuinely a Song. Born as out o f the black w hirlw ind ;
In the very sound o f it there is a canto true effort, in fact, as o f a captive strug
ferm o; it proceeds as by a chant. gling to free h im self: that is Thought.
T h e language, his simple terza rima, In all ways w e are “ to become perfect
doubtless helped him in this. One through suffering.” — But, as I say, no
reads along naturally w ith a sort o f work known to me is so elaborated as
lilt. But I add, that it could not be this o f Dante’s. It has all been as i f
o th erw ise; for the essence and ma molten, in the hottest furnace o f his
terial o f the w ork are themselves soul. It had made him “ lean ” for
rhythm ic. Its depth, and rapt passion many years. N ot the general whole
and sincerity, makes it musical ; — go o n ly ; every compartment o f it is
deep enough, there is music every worked out, with intense earnestness,
where. A true inward symmetry, into truth, into clear visuality. Each
what one calls an architectural har answers to the oth er; each fits in its
m ony, reigns in it, proportionates it place, like a marble stone accurately
a ll: architectural; w hich also par hewn and polished. It is the soul o f
takes o f the character o f music. T h e Dante, and in this the soul o f the
three kingdoms, Inferno, Purgatorio, M iddle Ages, rendered forever rhyth
v o l . 11. 47
37° Illustrations
m ically visible there. N o light task; matter as with a pen o f fire. Plutus,
a right intense one : but a task w hich the blustering giant, collapses at V ir
is done. gil’s rebuke ; it is “ as the sails sink,
Perhaps one would say, intensity, the mast being suddenly broken.” O r
w ith the much that depends on it, is that poor Brunetto, w ith the cotto as-
the prevailing character o f Dante’s petto, “ face baked” parched brown and
genius. Dante does not come before lean ; and the “ fiery snow ” that falls
us as a large catholic mind ; rather as on them there, a “ fiery snow without
a narrow, and even sectarian m in d : w in d ,” slow, deliberate, never-ending !
it is partly the fruit o f his age and posi O r the lids o f those T o m b s; square
tion, but partly too o f his own nature. sarcophaguses, in that silent dim-burn
His greatness has, In all senses, con ing H ell, each w ith its Soul in tor
centred itself into fiery emphasis and ment ; the lids laid open there ; they
depth. H e is world-great not because are-to be shut at the D ay o f Judgment,
he is world-wide, but because he is through Eternity. And how Farinata
world-deep. Through all objects he rises ; and how Cavalcante falls — at
pierces as it were down into the heart hearing o f his Son, and the past tense
o f Being. I know nothing so intense “ fu e ! ” T h e very movements in
as Dante. Consider, for example, to Dante have something b r ie f; swift,
begin with the outermost development decisive, almost military. It is o f the
o f his intensity, consider how he paints. inmost essence o f his genius this sort
H e has a great power o f vision ; seizes o f painting. T h e fiery, swift Italian
the very type o f a th in g ; presents that nature o f the man, so silent, passionate,
and nothing more. You remember w ith its quick abrupt movements, its
that first view he gets o f the H all o f silent “ pale rages,” speaks itself in
D ite : red pinnacle, red-hot cone o f these things.
iron glowing through the dim immen For though this o f painting is one o f
sity o f gloom ; so vivid, so distinct, the outermost developments o f a man,
visible at once and forever ! It is an it comes like all else from the essential
emblem o f the whole genius o f Dante. faculty o f him ; it is physiognomical
T h ere is a brevity, an abrupt precision o f the whole man. Find a man whose
in him : Tacitus is not briefer, more words paint you a likeness, you have
condensed; and then in Dante it seems found a man worth something ; mark
a natural condensation, spontaneous to his manner o f doing it, as very charac
the man. One smiting word ; and teristic o f him. In the first place, he
then there is silence, nothing more could not have discerned the object at
said. His silence is more eloquent all, or seen the vital type o f it, unless
than words. It is strange w ith what he had, what w e may call, sympathized.
a sharp, decisive grace he snatches the w ith it, — had sympathy in him to be
true likeness o f a matter ; cuts into the stow on objects. /He must have been
The Hero as Poet . ( 371
sincere about it too ; sincere and sym o f womanhood in it to o : della bella

pathetic : a man without worth cannot persona, che m ifu tolta; and how , even
give you the likeness o f any o b je c t; in the Pit o f woe, it is a solace that he
he dwells in vague outwardness, fallacy w ill never part from her ! Saddest
and trivial hearsay, about all objects. tragedy in these alti guai. And the
And indeed may we not say that in racking winds, in that aer bru?iot whirl
tellect altogether expresses itself in this them away again, to wail forever ! —
power o f discerning what an object is ? Strange to think: Dante was the friend
Whatsoever o f faculty a man’s mind o f this poor Francesca’s father ; Fran
may have w ill come out here. Is it cesca herself may have sat upon the
even o f business, a matter to be done ? Poet’s knee, as a bright innocent little
T h e gifted man is he w ho sees the child. Infinite pity, yet also infinite
essential point, and leaves all the rest rigor o f law : it is so Nature is made ;
aside as surplusage ; it is his faculty, it is so Dante discerned that she was
too, the man o f business’s faculty, that made. W hat a paltry notion is that
he discern the true likeness, not the o f his Divine Comedy’s being a poor
false, superficial one, o f the thing he splenetic, impotent, terrestrial lib e l;
has got to work in. And how much putting those into H ell whom he could
o f morality is in the kind o f insight w e not be avenged upon on earth ! I sup
get o f anything ; “ the eye seeing in pose i f ever pity, tender as a mother’s,
all. things what it brought w ith it the was in the heart o f any man, it was in
faculty o f seeing ! ” T o the mean eye Dante’s. But a man who does not know
all things are trivial, as certainly as to rigor cannot pity either. H is very
the jaundiced they are yellow . Ra pity w ill be cowardly, egoistic, — sen
phael, the Painters tell us, is the best timentality, or little better. I know
o f all Portrait-painters withal. No not in the world an affection equal to
most gifted eye can exhaust the signifi that o f Dante. It is a tenderness, a
cance o f any object. In the commonest trembling, longing, pitying love : like
human face there lies more than Ra the wail o f Êolian harps, soft, s o ft;
phael w ill take away w ith him. like a child’s young h e a rt; — and then
D ante’s painting is not graphic only, that stern, sore-saddened h e a rt! These
brief, true, and o f a vividness as o f fire longings o f his towards his Beatrice ;
in dark n ig h t; taken on the wider their meeting together in the Paradiso;
scale, it is every way noble, and the his gazing in her pure transfigured
outcome o f a great soul. Francesca eyes, her that had been purified by
and her L over, what qualities in th a t! death so long, separated from him so
A thing woven as out o f rainbows, on far : — one likens it to the song o f an
a ground o f eternal black. A small gels ; it is among the purest utterances
flute-voice o f infinite wail speaks there, o f affection, perhaps the very purest
into our very heart o f hearts. A touch that ever came out o f a human soul.
372 Illustrations
For the intense Dante is intense in catio n ” ; an emblem o f the noblest
all things; he has got into the essence conception o f that age. I f Sin is so
o f all. H is intellectual insight, as fatal, and H ell is and must be so rigor
painter, on occasion too as reasoner, is ous, awful, yet in Repentance too is
but the result o f all other sorts o f in man purified; Repentance is the grand
tensity. M orally great, above all, we Christian act. It is beautiful how
must call him ; it is the beginning o f Dante works it out. T h e tremolar delT
all. His scorn, his grief, are. as tran onde, that “ trembling ” o f the ocean-
scendent as his love ; — as, indeed, what waves under the first pure gleam o f
are they but the inverse or converse o f morning, dawning afar on the wander
his love ? “ A Dio Spiacenti, ed a’ ne- ing T w o , is as the type o f an altered
jnici suiy Hateful to G od and to the mood. H ope has now dawned; never-
enemies o f God ” : lofty scorn, un dying H ope, i f in company still with
appeasable silent reprobation and aver heavy sorrow. T h e obscure sojourn
sion : “ Non ragionam di lor, W e w ill o f daemons and reprobate is under foot;
not speak o f them, look only and pass.” a soft breathing o f penitence mounts
O r think o f this: “ T h e y have not the higher and higher, to the Throne of
hope to die, Non han speranxa di morte” M ercy itself. “ Pray for m e,” the
One day, it had risen sternly benign denizens o f that Mount o f Pain all say
on the scathed heart o f Dante, that to him. “ T e ll my Giovanna to pray
he, wretched, never-resting, worn as for m e,” my daughter G iovan na; “ I
he was, would full surely die; “ that think her mother loves me no more ! ”
Destiny itself could not doom him not T h e y toil painfully up by that w ind
to die.” Such words are in this man. ing steep, “ bent down like corbels of
For rigor, earnestness, and depth he is a building,” some o f them, — crushed
not to be paralleled in the modern together so “ for the sin o f p rid e ” ;
w orld; to seek his parallel we must go yet nevertheless in years, in ages, and
into the H ebrew Bible, and live with aeons they shall have reached the top,
the antique Prophets there. which is Heaven’s gate, and by M ercy
I do not agree with much modern shall have been admitted in. T h e joy
criticism, in greatly preferring the In too o f all, when one has prevailed;
ferno to the two other parts o f the the whole Mountain shakes with joy,
Divine Commcdia. Such preference and a psalm o f praise rises, when one
belongs, I imagine, to our general By- soul has perfected repentance, and got
ronism o f taste, and is like to be a its sin and misery left behind ! I call
transient feeling. T h e Purgatorio and all this a noble embodiment o f a true,
ParadisOy especially the former, one noble thought.
would almost say, is even more ex But indeed the T h ree compartments
cellent than it. It is a noble thing mutually support one another, are in
that Purgatorio, “ Mountain o f Purifi dispensable to one anotheF. T h e Pa-
radisoy a kind o f inarticulate music to Christianity. It expresses, as in huge

me, is the redeeming side o f the In w orld-w ide architectural emblems, how
ferno ; the Inferno without it were the Christian Dante felt Good and Evil
untrue. A ll three make up the true to be the two polar elements o f this
Unseen W orld, as figured in the Chris Creation, on w hich it all turns ; that
tianity o f the M iddle Ages ; a thing these two differ not by preferability o f
forever memorable, forever true in the one to the other, but by incompat
essence o f it, to all men. It was per ibility absolute and infinite ; that the
haps delineated in no human soul w ith one is excellent and high as light and
such depth o f veracity as in this o f H eaven, the other hideous, black as
Dante’s ; a man sent to sing it, to keep Gehenna and the Pit o f H e l l ! Ever
it long memorable. V ery notable w ith lasting Justice, yet w ith Penitence, w ith
what b rief sim plicity he passes out o f everlasting Pity, — all Christianism, as
the every-day reality, into the Invisir Dante and the M iddle Ages had it, is
ble one ; and in the second or third emblemed here. Emblemed: and yet,
stanza, we find ourselves in the W orld as I urged the other day, with what
o f Spirits ; and dwell there, as among entire truth o f purpose ; how uncon
things palpable, indubitable ! To scious o f any embleming ! H ell, Pur
Dante they were s o ; the real w orld, gatory, P aradise: these things were
as it is called, and its facts, was but not fashioned as emblems ; was there,
the threshold to an infinitely higher in our Modern European M ind, any
Fact o f a W orld. A t bottom, the one thought at all o f their being emblems !
was as /»v/<frnatural as the other. Has W ere they not indubitable, awful facts;
not each man a soul ? H e w ill not the w hole heart o f man taking them
only be a spirit, but is one. T o the for practically true, all Nature every
earnest Dante it is all one visible F act; where confirming them ? So is it al
he believes it, sees i t ; is the Poet o f ways in these things. M en do not
it in virtue o f that. Sincerity, I say believe in Allegory. T h e future C ritic,
again, is the saving merit, now as al whatever his new thought may be, who
ways. considers this o f Dante to have been
Dante’s H ell, Purgatory, Paradise, all got up as an Allegory, w ill commit
are a symbol w ithal, an emblematic one sore mistake ! — - Paganism we rec-
representation o f his B elief about this .ognized as a veracious expression of
Universe : — some C ritic in a future the earnest, awe-struck feeling o f man
age, like those Scandinavian ones the towards the Universe ; veracious, true
other day, w ho has ceased altogether once, and still not without worth for
to think as Dante did, may find this us. But mark here the difference of
too all an “ A lleg o ry,” perhaps an idle Paganism and Christianism ; one great
A lle g o r y ! It is a sublime embodi difference. Paganism emblemed chiefly
ment, our sublimest, o f the soul o f the Operations o f Nature ; the desti
374 Illustrations
nies, efforts, combinations, vicissitudes Norse mind ; another than “ Bastard
o f things and men in this w o rld : Chris- Christianism ” half-articulately spoken
tianism emblemed the Law o f Human in the Arab Desert, seven hundred
D uty, the Moral Law o f Man. One years before! — T h e noblest idea made
was for the sensuous nature : a rude real hitherto among men, is sung, and
helpless utterance o f the first Thought emblemed forth abidingly, by one of
o f men, — the ch ief recognized virtue, the noblest men. In the one sense
Courage, Superiority to Fear. The and in the other, are we not right glad
other was not for the sensuous nature, to possess it ? A s I calculate, it may
but for the moral. W hat a progress is last yet for long thousands o f years.
here, i f in that one respect only ! — For the thing that is uttered from the
And so in this Dante, as w e said, inmost parts o f a man’s soul differs
had ten silent centuries, in a very altogether from what is uttered by the
strange w ay, found a voice. T h e Di- outer part. T h e outer is o f the day,
vina Commedia is o f D ante’s writing ; under the empire o f mode ; the outer
yet in truth it belongs to ten Christian passes aw ay, in swift endless changes ;
centuries, only the finishing o f it is the inmost is the same yesterday, to
D ante’s. So always. T h e craftsman day, and forever. T ru e souls, in all
there, the smith w ith that metal of nis, generations o f the w orld, who look on
w ith these tools, w ith these cunning this Dante, w ill find a brotherhood
methods, — how little o f all he does is in h im ; the deep sincerity o f his
properly bis work ! A ll past inventive thoughts, his woes and hopes, w ill
men work there w ith him ; — as in speak likewise to their sincerity ; they
deed w ith all o f us, in all things. w ill feel that this Dante too was a
Dante is the spokesman o f the M id brother. Napoleon in Saint Helena is
dle Ages ; the Thought they lived by charmed w ith the genial veracity o f old
stands here, in everlasting music. These Homer. T h e oldest H ebrew Prophet,
sublime ideas o f his, terrible and beauti under a vesture the most diverse from
ful, are the fruit o f the Christian M edi ours, does yet, because he speaks from
tation of all the good men w ho had the heart o f man, speak to all men’s
gone before him. Precious they ; but hearts. It is the one sole secret o f
also is not he precious ? M uch, had continuing long memorable. Dante,
not he spoken, would have been dumb; for depth o f sincerity, is like an antique
not dead, yet living voiceless. Prophet too ; his words, like theirs,
On the whole, is it not an utterance, come from his very heart. One need
this mystic Song, at once o f one o f the not wonder i f it were predicted that
greatest human souls, and o f the highest his Poem might be the most enduring
thing that Europe had hitherto realized thing our Europe has yet made ; for
for itself? Christianism, as Dante sings nothing so endures as a truly spoken
it, is another than Paganism in the rude w ord. A ll cathedrals, pontificalities,
Dante 375
brass and stone, and outer arrangement still o f importance to men, when these
never so lasting, are b rief in compari had all sunk into new irrecognizable
son to an unfathomable heart-song like combinations, and had ceased individu
this : one feels as i f it might survive, ally to be.
DANTE .
From the Essays of T. B. Macaulay.
T h e beginning o f the thirteenth no food is so bitter as the bread o f de

century was, as M achiavelli has re pendence, and no ascent so painful as
marked, the era o f a great revival o f the staircase o f a patron, his wound
this extraordinary system. T h e policy ed spirit took refuge in visionary devo
o f Innocent, — the growth o f the In tion. Beatrice, the unforgotten object
quisition and the mendicant orders, — o f his early tenderness, was invested
the wars against the Albigenses, the by his imagination w ith glorious and
Pagans o f the East, and the unfortunate mysterious attributes ; she was en
princes o f the house o f Swabia, agitated throned among the highest o f the celes
Italy during the two follow ing genera tial hierarchy : Alm ighty Wisdom had
tions. In this point Dante was com assigned to her the care o f the sinful
pletely under the influence o f his age. and unhappy wanderer who had loved
H e was a man o f a turbid and melan her w ith such a perfect love. By a
choly spirit. In early youth he had confusion, like that w hich often takes
.entertained a strong and unfortunate pas place in dreams, he has sometirrjes lost
sion, w hich, long after the death o f her sight o f her human nature, and even o f
whom he loved, continued to haunt her personal existence, and seems to
him. Dissipation, ambition, misfor consider her as one o f the attributes o f
tunes, had not effaced it. H e was not the D eity.
only a sincere, but a passionate, be But those religious hopes w hich had
liever. T h e crimes and abuses o f the released the mind o f the sublime en
Church o f Rome were indeed loath thusiast from the terrors o f death had
some to hiifr; but to all its doctrines not rendered his speculations on human
and all its rites he adhered w ith enthu life more cheerful. T h is is an incon
siastic fondness and veneration; and sistency w hich may often be observed
at length, driven from his native coun in men o f a similar temperament. H e
try, reduced to a situation the most hoped for happiness beyond the grave:
painful to a man o f his disposition, but he felt none on earth. It is from
condemned to learn by experience that this cause, more than from any other,
3 76 Illustrations
that his description o f Heaven is so far condemned as grotesque. I am con
inferior to the H ell or the Purgatory. cerned to see that M r. C ary, to whom
W ith the passions and miseries o f the Dante owes more than ever poet owed
suffering spirits he feels a strong sym to translator, has sanctioned an accusa
pathy. But among the beatified he tion utterly unworthy o f his abilities.
appears as one who has nothing in <f His solicitude,” says that gehtleman,
common with them, — as one who is “ to define all his images in such a
incapable o f comprehending, not only manner as to bring them within the
the degree, but the nature o f their en circle o f our vision, and to subject
joyment. W e think that we see him them to the power o f the pencil, ren
standing amidst those smiling and radi ders him little better than grotesque,
ant spirits with that scowl o f unuttera where M ilton has since taught us to ex
ble misery on his brow , and that curl pect sublim ity.” It is true that Dante
o f bitter disdain on his lips, w hich has never shrunk from embodying his
all his portraits have preserved, and conceptions in determinate words, that
which might furnish Chantrey with he has even given measures and num
hints for the head o f his projected bers, where M ilton would have left his
Satan. images to float undefined in a gorgeous
T h ere is no poet whose intellectual haze o f language. Both were right.
and moral character are so closely con M ilton did not profess to have been in
nected. T h e great source, as it ap heaven or hell. H e might therefore
pears to me, o f the power o f the D i reasonably confine him self to magnifi
vine Comedy is the strong b elief with cent generalities. Far different was
w hich the story seems to be told* In the office o f the lonely traveller, who
this respect, the only books w hich ap had wandered through the nations of
proach to its excellence are G ulliver’s the dead. Had he described the abode
Travels and Robinson Crusoe. The o f the rejected spirits in language re
solemnity o f his asseverations, the con sembling the splendid lines o f the Eng
sistency and minuteness o f his details, lish poet, — had he told us o f
the earnestness w ith w hich he labors “ A n universe o f death, w hich God by curse
to make the reader understand the Created evil, for evil only good/
exact shape and size o f everything that W here all life dies, death lives, and Nature
breeds
he describes, give an air o f reality to
Perverse all monstrous, all prodigious things,
his wildest fictions. I should only Abom inable, unutterable, and worse
weaken this statement by quoting in T h an fables yet have feigned, or fear con
stances o f a feeling w hich pervades the ceived,
w hole work, and to w hich it owes Gorgons, and hydras, and chimaeras dire,” —
much o f its fascination. T h is is the this would doubtless have been noble
real justification o f the many passages writing. But where would have been
in his poem w hich bad critics have that strong impression o f reality, w hich,
Dante 377
in accordance w ith his plan, it should many children, and how many men,
have been his great object to produce ? are afraid o f ghosts, who are not afraid
It was absolutely necessary for him to o f G od ! And this, because, though
delineate accurately “ all monstrous, all they entertain a much stronger convic
prodigious things,” — to utter what tion o f the existence o f a D eity than
might to others appear “ unutterable,” o f the reality o f apparitions, they have
— to relate w ith the air o f truth what no apprehension that he w ill manifest
fables had never feigned, — to embody him self to them in any sensible man
what fear had never conceived. And ner. W hile this is the case, to de
I w ill frankly confess that the vague scribe superhuman beings in the lan
sublimity o f M ilton affects me less than guage, and to attribute to them the
these reviled details o f Dante. We actions ot humanity, may be grotesque,
read M ilton ; and w e know that we unphilosophical, inconsistent ; but it
are reading a great poet. W hen we w ill be the only mode o f working upon
read Dante, the poet vanishes. We the feelings o f men, and therefore the
are listening to the man who has re only mode suited for poetry. Shake
turned from “ the valley o f the dolo speare understood this w ell, as he un
rous abyss” ; — w e seem to see the derstood everything that belonged to
dilated eye o f horror, to hear the shud his art. W ho does not sympathize
dering accents with w hich he tells his w ith the rapture o f A riel, flying after
fearful tale. Considered in this light, sunset on the wings o f the bat, or
the narratives are exactly what they sucking in the cups o f flowers with
should be, — definite in themselves, but the bee ? W ho does not shudder at
suggesting to the mind ideas o f awful the caldron o f Macbeth ? W here is
and indefinite wonder. T h e y are made the philosopher w ho is not moved
up o f the images o f the earth : they when he thinks o f the strange connec
are told in the language o f the earth. tion between the infernal spirits and
Y et the w hole effect is, beyond ex “ the sow ’s blood that hath eaten her
pression, wild and unearthly. The nine farrow ” ? But this difficult task
fact is, that supernatural beings, as long o f representing supernatural beings to
as they are considered merely w ith our minds in a manner w hich shall be
reference to their own nature, excite neither unintelligible to our intellects,
our feelings very feebly. It is when nor w holly inconsistent with our ideas
the great gu lf w hich separates them o f their nature, has never been so well
from us is passed, when w e suspect performed as by Dante. I w ill refer
some strange and undefinable relation to three instances, which are, perhaps,
between the laws o f the visible and the most striking; — the description o f
the invisible world, that they rouse, the transformation o f the serpents and
perhaps, the strongest emotions o f the robbers, in the twenty-fifth canto
w hich our nature is capable. H ow o f the Inferno, — the passage concern
VOL. i i . 48
378 Illustrations
ing Nim rod, in the thirty-first canto o f anger, are rarely discriminated with
the same part, — and the magnificent sufficient accuracy in the language o f
procession in the twenty-ninth canto the most refined nations. A rude dia
o f the Purgatorio. lect never abounds in nice distinctions
T h e metaphors and comparisons o f o f this kind. Dante therefore employs
Dante harmonize admirably with that the most accurate and infinitely the
air o f strong reality o f w hich I have most poetical mode o f marking the pre
spoken. T h e y have a very peculiar cise state o f his mind. Every person
character. H e is perhaps the only w ho has experienced the bewildering
poet whose writings become much less effect o f sudden bad tidings, — the
intelligible if all illustrations o f this stupefaction, — the vague doubt o f the
sort were expunged. H is similes are truth o f our own perceptions w hich
frequently rather those o f a traveller they produce, — w ill understand the
than o f a poet. H e employs them not following sim ile: — “ I was as he is
to display his ingenuity by fanciful w ho dreameth his own harm, — w ho,
analogies, — not to delight the reader dreaming, wishes that it may be all a
by affording him a distant and passing dream, so that he desires that w hich is
glimpse o f beautiful images remote from as though it were not.” T h is is only
the path in which he is proceeding,— one out o f a hundred equally striking
but to give an exact idea o f the objects and expressive similitudes. T h e com
w hich he is describing, by comparing parisons o f Homer and M ilton are mag
them w ith others generally known. nificent digressions. It scarcely injures
T h e boiling pitch in M alebolge was their effect to detach them from the
like that in the Venetian arsenal ; — work. T hose o f Dante are very dif
the mound on w hich he travelled along ferent. T h e y derive their beauty from
the banks o f Phlegethon was like that the context, and reflect beauty upon it.
between Ghent and Bruges, but not so H is embroidery cannot be taken out
large ; — the cavities where the Simo- without spoiling the whole web. I
niacal prelates are confined resembled cannot dismiss this part o f the subject
the fonts in the Church o f John at without advising every person who can
Florence. Every reader o f Dante w ill muster sufficient Italian t6 read the
recall many other illustrations o f this simile o f the sheep, in the third canto
description, which add to the appear o f the Purgatorio. I think it the most
ance o f sincerity and earnestness from perfect passage o f the kind in the
w hich the narrative derives so much o f w orld, the most imaginative, the most
its interest. picturesque, and the most sweetly ex
M any o f his comparisons, again, are pressed.
intended to give an exact idea o f his N o person can have attended to the
feelings under particular circumstances. D ivine Com edy without observing how
T h e delicate shades o f grief, o f fear, o f little impression the forms o f the ex
Dante 37 9
ternal world appear to have made on in the wide empire o f the imagination;
the mind o f Dante. H is temper and but she has placed her home and her
his situation had led him to fix his ob sanctuary amidst the inexhaustible va
servation almost exclusively on human rieties and the impenetrable mysteries
nature. T h e exquisite opening o f the o f the mind.
eighth canto o f the Purgatorio affords “ In tutte parti impera, e quivi regge ;
a strong instance o f this. H e leaves Quivi e la sua cittade, e 1’ alto seggio.”
to others the earth, the ocean, and the Othello is perhaps the greatest work in
sky. H is business is w ith man. T o the world. From what does it derive
other writers, evening may be the sea its power ? From the clouds ? From
son o f dews and stars and radiant the ocean? From the mountains? O r
clouds. T o Dante it is the hour o f from love strong as death, and jeal
fond recollection and passionate devo ousy cruel as the grave ! W hat is it
tion ,— the hour w hich melts the heart that we go forth to see in Hamlet ?
o f the mariner and kindles the love o f Is it a reed shaken w ith the wind ?
the pilgrim, — the hour when the toll A small celandine ? A bed o f daf
o f the bell seems to mourn for another fodils ? O r is it to contemplate a
day, w hich is gone and w ill return no mighty and wayward mind laid bare
more. before us to the inmost recesses ? It
T h e feeling o f the present age has may perhaps be doubted whether the
taken a direction diametrically oppo lakes and the hills are better fitted for
site. T h e magnificence o f the physi the education o f a poet than the dusky
cal world, and its influence upon the streets o f a huge capital. Indeed, who
human mind, have been the favorite is not tired to death with pure descrip
themes o f our most eminent poets. tion o f scenery ? Is it not the fact,
T h e herd o f blue-stocking ladies and that external objects never strongly
sonneteering gentlemen seems to con excite our feelings but when they are
sider a strong sensibility to the “ splen contemplated in reference to man, as
dor o f the grass, the glory o f the flow illustrating his destiny, or as influen
er,” as an ingredient absolutely indis cing his character ? T h e most beauti
pensable in the formation o f a poetical ful object in the w orld, it w ill be
mind. T h e y treat w ith contempt all allowed, is a beautiful woman. But
writers who are unfortunately w ho that can analyze his feelings is not
“ n ec ponere lu cu m sensible that she owes her fascination
A rtific e s , n ec rus saturum laud are.” less to grace o f outline and delicacy o f
T h e orthodox poetical creed is more color, than to a thousand associations
Catholic. T h e noblest earthly object w hich, often unperceived by ourselves,
of the contemplation o f man is man connect those qualities with the source
himself. T h e universe, and all its fair o f our existence, w ith the nourishment
and glorious forms, are indeed included o f our infancy, w ith the passions o f
380 Illustrations
our youth, w ith the hopes o f our age, can w e read o f beings o f whose per
w ith elegance, with vivacity, with ten sonal existence the writer does not suf
derness, with the strongest o f natural fer us to entertain, for a moment, even
instincts, with the dearest o f social ties? a conventional belief? Even Spenser’s
T o those who think thus, the in allegory is scarcely tolerable, till we
sensibility o f the Florentine poet to contrive to forget that Una signifies
the beauties o f nature w ill not appear innocence, and consider her merely as
an unpardonable deficiency. On man an oppressed lady under the protection
kind no writer, with the exception o f o f a generous knight.
Shakespeare, has looked with a more Those writers who have, more judi
penetrating eye. I have said that his ciously, attempted to preserve the per
poetical character had derived a tinge sonality o f the classical divinities have
from his peculiar temper. It is on failed from a different cause. They
the sterner and darker passions that he have been imitators, and imitators at a
delights to dwell. A ll love, excepting disadvantage. Euripides and Catullus
the half mystic passion w hich he still believed in Bacchus and C ybele as little
felt for his buried Beatrice, had palled as we do. But they lived among men
on the fierce and restless exile. T h e who did. T h e ir imaginations, i f not
sad story o f Rimini is almost a single their opinions, took the color o f the
exception. I know not whether it has age. Hence the glorious inspiration
been remarked, that, in one point, mis o f the Bacchae and the A tys. Our
anthropy seems to have affected his minds are formed by circumstances :
mind as it did that o f Swift. Nause and I do not believe that it would be
ous and revolting images seem to have in the power o f the greatest modern
had a fascination for his mind ; and he poet to lash him self up to a degree o f
repeatedly places before his readers, enthusiasm adequate to the production
with all the energy o f his incompara o f such works.
ble style, the most loathsome objects Dante alone, among the poets o f
o f the sewer and the dissecting-room. later times, has been, in this respect,
T h ere is another peculiarity in the neither an allegorist nor an imitator ;
poem o f Dante, w hich, I think, de and, consequently, he alone has intro
serves notice. Ancient mythology has duced the ancient fictions with effect.
hardly ever been successfully inter His Minos, his Charon, his Pluto, are
woven with modern poetry. One class absolutely terrific. Nothing can be
o f writers have introduced the fabulous more beautiful or original than the
deities merely as allegorical representa use w hich he has made o f the river
tives o f love, wine, or wisdom. T h is o f Lethe. H e has never assigned to
necessarily renders their works tame his mythological characters any func
and cold. W e may sometimes admire tions inconsistent w ith the creed o f
their ingenuity; but with what interest the Catholic Church. H e has relat
Dante 38 i
ed nothing concerning them w hich a whom they could have crushed touched
good Christian o f that age might not a talisman, o f whose secret he was igno
believe possible. O n this account, rant, they immediately became his vas
there is nothing in these passages that sals. It has more than once happened
appears puerile or pedantic. On the to me to see minds, graceful and ma
contrary, this singular use o f classical jestic as the Titania o f Shakespeare,
names suggests to the mind a vague and bewitched by the charms o f an ass’s
awful idea o f some mysterious revela head, bestowing on it the fondest ca
tion, anterior to all recorded history, resses, and crowning it w ith the sweet
o f w hich the dispersed fragments m ight- est flowers. I need only mention the
have been retained amidst the impos poems attributed to Ossian. T h e y are
tures and superstitions o f later religions. utterly worthless, except as an edifying
Indeed the m ythology o f the Divine instance o f the success o f a story w ith
Com edy is o f the elder and more co out evidence, and o f a book without
lossal mould. It breathes the spirit o f merit. T h e y are a chaos o f words
Hom er and iEschylus, not o f O vid and w hich present no image, o f images
Claudian. w hich have no archetype ; — they are
T h is is the more extraordinary, since without form and void ; and darkness
Dante seems to have been utterly igno is upon the face o f them. Y et how
rant o f the Greek language ; and his many men o f genius have panegyrized
favorite Latin models could only have and imitated them !
served to mislead him. Indeed, it is T h e style o f Dante is, i f not his high
impossible not to remark his admira est, perhaps his most peculiar excel
tion o f writers far inferior to h im self; lence. I know nothing w ith w hich it
and, in particular, his idolatry o f Virr- can be compared. T h e noblest models
gil, w ho, elegant and splendid as he is, o f Greek composition must yield to it.
has no pretensions to the depth and His words are the fewest and the best
originality o f mind which characterize w hich it is possible to use. T h e first
his Tuscan worshipper. In truth, it expression in w hich he clothes his
may be laid down as an almost univer thoughts is always so energetic and
sal rule that good poets are bad critics. comprehensive, that amplification would
T h e ir minds are under the tyranny o f only injure the effect. T h ere is prob
ten thousand associations impercepti ably no writer in any language who
ble to others. T h e worst writer may has presented so many strong pictures
easily happen to touch a spring w hich to the mind. Y et there is probably no
is connected in their minds with a long writer equally concise. T h is perfec
succession o f beautiful images. T h e y tion o f style is the principal merit o f
are like the gigantic slaves o f Aladdin, the Paradiso, w hich, as I have already
gifted w ith matchless power, but bound remarked, is by no means equal in
by spells so mighty that, when a child other respects to the two preceding
382 Illustrations
parts o f the poem. T h e force and sages incomparable in their kind. T h e
felicity o f the diction, however, irresist merit o f the latter is, perhaps, rather
ibly attract the reader through the oratorical than p oetical; nor can I rec
theological lectures and the sketches o f ollect anything in the great Athenian
ecclesiastical biography, w ith w hich speeches w hich equals it in force of
this division o f the work too much invective and bitterness o f sarcasm. I
abounds. It may seem almost absurd have heard the most eloquent statesman
to quote particular specimens o f an o f the age remark that, next to Demos
excellence w hich is diffused over all thenes, Dante is the writer who ought
his hundred cantos. I w ill, however, to be most attentively studied by every
instance the third canto o f the Inferno, man who desires to attain oratorical
and the sixth o f the Purgatorio, as pas eminence.
DANTE AND M I L T O N .
From the Essays of T. B. Macaulay.
T h e only poem o f modern times ever strange, however grotesque, may

w hich can be compared with the be the appearance w hich Dante under
Paradise Lost is the D ivine Com edy. takes to describe, he never shrinks from
T h e subject o f M ilton, in some points, describing it. H e gives us the shape,
resembled that o f Dante ; but he has the color, the sound, the smell, the
treated it in a w idely different manner. ta ste; he counts the numbers ; he
W e cannot, we think, better illustrate measures the size. H is similes are the
our opinion respecting our own great illustrations o f a traveller. Unlike
poet, than by contrasting him w ith the those o f other poets, and especially o f
father o f Tuscan literature. M ilton, they are introduced in a plain,
T h e poetry o f M ilton differs from business-like manner; not,for the sake
that o f Dante, as the hieroglyphics o f o f any beauty in the objects from w hich
E gypt differed from the picture-writ they are drawn ; not for the sake o f
ing o f M exico. T h e images w hich any ornament w hich they may impart
Dante employs speak for themselves ; to the poem ; but simply in order to
they stand simply for what they are. make the meaning o f the writer as clear
Those o f M ilton have a signification to the reader as it is to himself. T h e
which is often discernible only to the ruins o f the precipice w hich led from
initiated. T h eir value depends less on the sixth to the seventh circle o f hell
what they directly represent than on were like those o f the rock which fell
what they remotely suggest. H ow into the Adige on the south o f T rent.
Dante and Milton 383
T h e cataract o f Phlegethon was like Dante. M ilton avoids the loathsome
that o f Aqua Cheta at the monastery details, and takes refuge in indistinct
o f St. Benedict. T h e place where but solemn and tremendous imagery,
the heretics were confined in burning Despair hurrying from couch to couch
tombs resembled the vast cemetery o f to mock the wretches with his attend
Arles. ance, Death shaking his dart over
N ow let us compare w ith the exact them, but, in spite o f supplications,
details o f Dante the dim intimations o f delaying to strike. W hat says Dante ?
M ilton. W e w ill cite a few examples. “ T here was such a moan there as
T h e English poet has never thought o f there would be i f all the sick w ho,
taking the measure o f Satan. H e gives between July and September, are in
us merely a vague idea o f vast bulk. the hospitals o f Valdichiana, and o f
In one passage the fiend lies stretched the Tuscan swamps, and o f Sardinia,
out huge in length, floating many a were in one pit together ; and such a
rood, equal in size to the earth-born stench was issuing forth as is wont to
enemies o f Jove, or to the sea-monster issue from decayed limbs.”
w hich the mariner mistakes for an W e w ill not take upon ourselves the
island. W hen he addresses him self to invidious office o f settling precedency
battle against the guardian angels, he between two such writers. Each in
stands like Teneriffe or Atlas: his stat his own department is incomparable ;
ure reaches the sky. Contrast w ith and each, we may remark, has wisely,
these descriptions the lines in w hich or fortunately, taken a subject adapted
Dante has described the gigantic spectre to exhibit his peculiar talent to the
o f Nim rod. “ His face seemed to me greatest advantage. T h e Divine Com
as long and as broad as the ball o f St. edy is a personal narrative. Dante is
Peter’s at Rome ; and his other limbs the eye-witness and ear-witness o f that
were in proportion; so that the bank w hich he relates. H e is the very man
w hich concealed him from the waist who has heard the tormented spirits
downwards nevertheless showed so crying out for the second death, who
much o f him, that three tall Germans has read the dusky characters on the
would in vain have attempted to reach portal within w hich there is no hope,
to his hair.” W e are sensible that we who has hidden his face from the ter
do no justice to the admirable style o f rors o f the Gorgon, who has fled from
the Florentine poet. But M r. C ary’s the hooks and the seething pitch of
translation is not at hand; and our ver Barbariccia and Draghignazzo. His
sion, however rude, is sufficient to illus own hands have grasped the shaggy
trate our meaning. sides o f Lucifer. H is own feet have
Once more, compare the lazar-house climbed the mountain o f expiation.
in the eleventh book o f the Paradise H is own brow has been marked by the
Lost w ith the last ward o f Malebolge in purifying angel. T h e reader would
384 Illustrations
throw aside such a tale in incredulous it is not the interest w hich is proper
disgust, unless it were told w ith the to supernatural agents. W e feel that
strongest air o f veracity, with a sobriety w e could talk to the ghosts and demons
even in its horrors, with the greatest without any emotion o f unearthly awe.
precision and multiplicity in its details. W e could, like Don Juan, ask them to
T h e narrative o f M ilton in this respect supper, and eat heartily in their com
differs from that o f Dante, as the ad pany. Dante’s angels are good men
ventures o f Amadis differ from those w ith wings. His devils are spiteful,
o f G ulliver............ ugly executioners. His dead men are
Poetry w hich relates to the beings m erely living men in strange situations.
o f another world ought to be at once T h e scene w hich passes between the
mysterious and picturesque. T h a t o f poet and Farinata is justly celebrated.
M ilton is so. T h at of Dante is pictu Still, Farinata in the burning tomb is
resque indeed beyond any that ever was exactly what Farinata would have been
written. Its effect approaches to that at an auto da fe . N othing can be more
produced by the pencil or the chisel. touching than the first interview of
But it is picturesque to the exclusion Dante and Beatrice. Yet what is it
o f all mystery. T h is is a fault on the but a lovely woman chiding, w ith sweet,
right side, a fault inseparable from the austere composure, the lover for whose
plan o f Dante’s poem, w hich, as we affection she is grateful, but whose vices
have already observed, rendered the she reprobates ? T h e feelings w hich
utmost accuracy o f description neces give the passage its charm would suit
sary. Still it is a fault. T h e super the streets o f Florence as w ell as the
natural agents excite an in terest; but summit o f the Mount o f Purgatory.
T H E I T A L I A N P I LG R I M' S P R O G R E S S .
Leigh Hunt’s Stories from the Italian Poets.
Dante entitled the saddest poem in ing’s work in the Inquisition ended
.the world a Com edy, because it was happily, because, w hile people were
written in a middle style; though some, being racked in the dungeons, the of
by a strange confusion o f ideas, think ficers were making merry in the draw
the reason must have been because it ing-room. For the much-injured epi
“ ended happily ! ” that is, because be thet o f “ D ivin e,” Dante’s memory is
ginning with hell (to some), it termi not responsible. H e entitled his poem,
nated with “ heaven” (to others). As arrogantly enough, yet still not w ith
w ell might they have said, that a morn that impiety o f arrogance, “ T h e Com
The Italian Pilgrim’s Progress 385
edy o f Dante A ligh ieri, a Florentine by has also a design strictly self-referential.
nation, but not by habits.” T h e word T h e author feigns that the beatified
“ divine ” was added by some tran spirit o f his mistress has obtained leave
scriber; and it heaped absurdity on ab to warn and purify his soul by showing
surdity, too much o f it, alas ! being him the state o f things in the next
literally infernal tragedy. I am not world. She deputes the soul o f his
speaking in m ockery, any further than master V irgil to conduct him through
the fact itself cannot help so speaking. hell and purgatory, and then takes him
I respect what is to be respected in herself through the spheres o f heaven,
Dante ; I admire in him what is ad where St. Peter catechises and confirms
mirable ; would love ( if his infernali- him, and where he is finally honored
ties would let me) what is lovable ; w ith sights o f the Virgin M ary, o f
but this must not hinder one o f the Christ, and even a glimpse o f the Su
human race from protesting against preme Being !
what is erroneous in his fame, when it H is hell, considered as a place, is,
jars against every best feeling, human to speak geologically, a most fantastical
and divine. M r. Cary thinks that formation. It descends from beneath
Dante had as much right to avail him Jerusalem to the centre o f the earth,
self o f “ the popular creed in all its and is a funnel graduated in circles,
extravagance,” as Hom er had o f his each circle being a separate place o f
gods, or Shakespeare o f his fairies. torment for a different vice or its co
But the distinction is obvious. Homer ordinates, and the point o f the funnel
did not personally identify him self with terminating w ith Satan stuck into ice.
a creed, or do his utmost to perpetuate Purgatory is a corresponding mountain
the worst parts o f it in behalf o f a on the other side o f the globe, com
ferocious inquisitorial church, and to mencing with the antipodes o f Jerusa
the risk o f endangering the peace o f lem, and divided into exterior circles
millions o f gentle minds. o f expiation, w hich end in a table-land
T h e great poem thus misnomered is forming the terrestrial paradise. From
partly a system o f theology, partly an this the hero and his mistress ascend
abstract o f the knowledge o f the day, by a flight, exquisitely conceived, to
but chiefly a series o f passionate and the stars ; where the sun and the plan
imaginative pictures, altogether forming ets o f the Ptolemaic system (for the
an account o f the author’s times, his true one was unknown in Dante’s time)
friends, his enemies, and himself, w rit form a series o f heavens for different
ten to vent the spleen o f his exile, and virtues, the whole terminating in the
the rest o f his feelings, goo4 and bad, empyrean, or region o f pure light, and
and to reform church and state by the presence o f the Beatific Vision.
a spirit o f resentment and obloquy, T h e boundaries o f old and new,
w hich highly needed reform itself. It strange as it may now seem to us,
VOL. II. 49
386 Illustrations
were so confused in those days, and Tertullian and St. D o m in ic; sets M i
books were so rare, and the Latin poets nos at the door as judge ; retains Cha
held in such invincible reverence, that ron in his old office o f boatman over
Dante, in one and the same poem, the Stygian lake ; puts fabulous people
speaks o f the false gods o f Paganism, w ith real among the damned, D ido,
and yet retains much o f its lower m y and Cacus, and Ephialtes, w ith Ezze-
thology ; nay, invokes A pollo him self lino and Pope Nicholas the F ifth; and
at the door o f paradise. T here was, associates the Centaurs and the Furies
perhaps, some mystical and even philo w ith the agents o f diabolical torture.
sophical inclusion o f the past in this It has pleased him also to elevate Cato
medley, as recognizing the constant o f Utica to the office o f warder o f pur
superintendence o f Providence ; but gatory, though the censor’s poor, good
that Dante partook o f what may be w ife, Marcia, is detained in the regions
called the literary superstition o f the below. By these and other far greater
time, even for want o f better know l inconsistencies, the whole place o f pun
edge, is clear from the grave historical ishment becomes a reductio ad absur-
use he makes o f poetic fables in his dum, as ridiculous as it is melancholy ;
treatise on M onarchy, and in the very so that one is astonished how so great
arguments which he puts into the a man, and especially a man who
mouths o f saints and apostles. T h ere thought him self so far advanced beyond
are lingering feelings to this effect even his age, and who possessed such powers
now among the peasantry o f Italy ; o f discerning the good and beautiful,
w here, the reader need not be told, could endure to let his mind live in so
Pagan customs o f all sorts, including foul and foolish a region for any length
religious and most reverend ones, are o f time, and there wreak and harden
existing under the sanction o f other the unworthiest o f his passions. G e
names, — heathenisms christened. A nius, nevertheless, is so commensurate
Tuscan postilion, once enumerating to w ith absurdity throughout the book,
me some o f the native poets, concluded and there are even such sweet and balmy
his list with A p o llo ; and a plaster-cast as w ell as sublime pictures in it occa
man over here, in London, appeared sionally, nay often, that not only w ill
much puzzled, when conversing on the the poem ever be w orthy o f admiration,
subject with a friend o f mine, how to but, when those increasing purifications
discrepate Samson from Hercules. o f Christianity w hich our blessed re
Dante, accordingly, w hile, with the formers began shall finally precipitate
frightful bigotry o f the schools, he puts the whole dregs o f the author into the
the whole Pagan world into hell-borders, m ythology to w hich they belong, the
(w ith the exception o f two or three, w orld w ill derive a pleasure from it to
whose salvation adds to the absurdity,) an amount not to be conceived till the
mingles the hell o f V irgil w ith that o f arrival o f that day. Dante, meantime,
The Italian Pilgrims Progress 387
w ith an impartiality w hich has been i f they believe it must be followed

admired by those who can approve the by immediate and intense suffering.”
assumption o f a theological tyranny at Luckily, assent is not belief; and man
the expense o f common feeling and kind’s feelings are for the most part
decency, has put friends as well as foes superior to their opinions ; otherwise
into hell, — tutors o f his childhood, the world would have been in a bad
kinsmen o f those who treated him way indeed, and Nature not been vin
hospitably, even the father o f his be dicated o f her children. But let us
loved friend, Guido Cavalcante............ watch and be on our guard against all
M ilton has spoken o f the t( milder resuscitations o f superstition.
shades o f Purgatory ” ; and truly they As to our Florentine’s Heaven, it is
possess great beauties. Even in a theo full o f beauties also, though sometimes
logical point o f view they are some o f a more questionable and pantomimi-
thing like a bit o f Christian refresh cal sort than is to be found in either
ment after the horrors o f the Inferno. o f the other books. I shall speak o f
T h e first emerging from the hideous some o f them presently; but the gen
gu lf to the sight o f the blue serenity o f eral impression o f the place is, that it is
heaven is painted in a manner inex no heaven at all. H e says it is, and
pressibly charming. So is the sea talks much o f its smiles and its beati
shore with the coming o f the angel ; tude; but always excepting the poetry,
the valley, with the angels in green ; — especially the similes brought from
the repose at night on the rocks ; and the more heavenly earth, — we realize
twenty other pictures o f gentleness and little but a fantastical assemblage o f
love. And yet special and great has doctors and doubtful characters, far
been the escape o f the Protestant world more angry and theological than celes
from this part o f Roman Catholic be tial ; giddy raptures o f monks and in
lief; for Purgatory is the heaviest stone quisitors dancing in circles, and saints
that hangs about the neck o f the old denouncing popes and Florentines ; in
and feeble in that communion. H ell short, a heaven libelling itself with in
is avoidable by repentance; but Pur vectives against earth, and terminating
gatory what modest conscience shall in a great presumption............
escape ? M r. C ary, in a note on a T h e people o f Sienna, according to
passage in w hich Dante recommends this national and Christian poet, were
his readers to think on what follows a parcel o f coxcombs; those o f Arezzo,
this expiatory state, rather than what dogs ; and o f Casentino, hogs. Lucca
is suffered there, looks upon the poet’s made a trade o f perjury. Pistoia was
injunction as an “ unanswerable objec a den o f beasts, and ought to be re
tion to the doctrine o f purgatory,” it duced to ashes ; and the river Arno
being difficult to conceive “ how the should overflow and drown every soul
best can meet death without horror, in Pisa. Almost all the women in
388 Illustrations
Florence walked half naked in public, proceeded to action for themselves,
and were abandoned in private. Every frightening their creator. Every mo
brother, husband, son, and father, in tion, word, and look o f these creatures
Bologna, set their women to sale. In becomes full o f sensibility and sugges
all Lombardy were not to be found tions. T h e invisible is at the back of
three men who were not rascals ; and the visib le; darkness becomes palpable;
in Genoa and Romagna people went silence describes a character, nay, forms
about pretending to be men, but in re the most striking part o f a story ; a
ality were bodies inhabited by devils, word acts as a flash o f lightning, w hich
their souls having gone to the “ lowest displays some gloomy neighborhood,
pit o f hell ” to join the betrayers o f where a tower is standing, with dread
their friends and kinsmen. ful faces at the w indow ; or where, at
So much for his beloved country your feet, full o f eternal voices, one
men. As for foreigners, particularly abyss js beheld dropping out o f another
kings, Edward the First o f England in the lurid light o f torment............
and Robert o f Scotland were a couple Ginguene has remarked the singular
o f grasping fools ; the Emperor Albert variety, as w ell as beauty, o f Dante’s
was an usurper ; Alphonso the Second angels. M ilton’s, indeed, are common
o f Spain, a debauchee ; the King o f place in the comparison. In the eighth
Bohemia, a coward; Frederick o f Ara canto o f the Inferno, the devils inso
gon, a coward and miser ; the Kings lently refuse the poet and his guide an
o f Portugal and N orw ay, forgers ; the entrance into the city o f D is. An
King o f Naples, a man whose virtues angel comes sweeping over the Stygian
were expressed by a unit, and his vices lake to enforce i t ; the noise o f his
by a million ; and the King o f France, wings makes the shores tremble, and
the descendant o f a Paris butcher, and is like a crashing w hirlw ind, such as
o f progenitors who poisoned St.Thomas beats down the trees and sends the
Aquinas, their descendants conquering peasants and their herds flying before
with the arms of Judas rather than o f it. T h e heavenly messenger, after re
soldiers, and selling the flesh o f their buking the devils, touched the portals
daughters to old men, in order to ex o f the city w ith his wand ; they fly
tricate themselves from a danger............ op en ; and he returns the way he came
But truly it is said, that, when Dante without uttering a word to the two
is great, nobody surpasses him. I doubt companions. His face was that o f one
i f anybody equals him, as to the con occupied w ith other thoughts. T h is
stant intensity and incessant variety o f angel is announced by a tempest. An
his pictures ; and whatever he paints, other, who brings the souls o f the de
he throws, as it were, upon its own parted to Purgatory, is first discovered
powers ; as though an artist should at a distance, gradually disclosing w hite
draw figures that started into life, and splendors, w hich are his wings and
The Italian Pilgrims Progress 389
garments. H e comes in a boat, o f ing up to the middle in pits, like

w hich his wings are the sails ; and as towers, and causing earthquakes when
he approaches, it is impossible to look they move — his earthquake o f the
him in the face for its brightness. mountain in Purgatory, when a spirit
T w o other angels have green wings is set free for heaven — his dignified
and green garments, and the drapery is Mantuan Sordello, silently regarding
kept in motion like a flag by the vehe him and his guide as they go by, “ like
ment action o f the wings. A fifth has a lion on his w atch ” — his blasphemer,
a face like the morning star, casting Capaneus, lying in unconquered rage
forth quivering beams. A sixth is o f and sullenness under an eternal rain o f
a lustre so oppressive, that the poet flakes o f fire (human precursor o f M il
feels a weight on his eyes before he ton’s Satan) — his aspect o f Paradise,
knows what is coming. Another’s “ as i f the universe had smiled ” — his
presence affects the senses like the fra inhabitants o f the w hole planet Saturn
grance o f a M ay morning ; and an crying out so loud, in accordance with
other is in garments dark as cinders, the anti-Papal indignation o f Saint
but has a sword in his hand too spark Pietro Damiano, that the poet, though
ling to be gazed at. Dante’s occasional among them, could not bear wbat they
pictures o f the beauties o f external said— and the blushing eclipse, like
nature are w orthy o f these angelic red clouds at sunset, w hich takes place
creations, and to the last degree fresh at the Apostle Peter’s denunciation o f
and lovely. You long to bathe your the sanguinary filth o f the court o f
eyes, smarting with the fumes o f hell, Rom e, — all these sublimities, and many
in his dews. You gaze enchanted on more, make us not know whether to
his green fields and his celestial blue be more astonished at the greatness o f
skies, the more so from the pain and the poet or the raging littleness o f the
sorrow in midst of w hich the visions man. Grievous is it to be forced to
.are created** bring two such opposites together;
Dante’s grandeur o f every kind is and I w ish, for the honor and glory o f
proportionate to that o f his angels, al poetry, I did not feel compelled to do
most to his ferocity • and that is saying so. But the swarthy Florentine had
everything* It is not always the spir not the healthy temperament o f his
itual grandeur o f M ilton, the subjection brethren, and he fell upon evil times.
o f the material impression to the m oral; Compared with Hom er and Shake
but it is equally such when he chooses, speare, his very intensity seems only
and far more abundant. H is infernal superior to theirs from an excess o f the
precipices — his black whirlwinds — morbid ; and he is inferior to both in
his innumerable cries and claspings o f other sovereign qualities o f poetry,—
hands — his very odors o f huge loath to the one, in giving you the healthiest
someness— his giants At tw iligh t stand general impression o f nature itself,— to
390 Illustrations
Shakespeare, in boundless universality, as dreary as himself, in spite o f the
— to most great poets, in thorough har occasional beautiful pictures he draws
mony and delightfulness. H e wanted o f her, but narrows her very immen
(generally speaking) the music o f a sity into his pettiness. H e fancied,
happy and a happy-making disposition. alas ! that he could build her uni
Hom er, from his large vital bosom, verse over again out o f the politics
breathes like a broad 'fresh air over the o f old Rome and the divinity o f the
w orld, amidst alternate storm and sun schools ! . . . .
shine, making you aware that there is A ll that Dante said or did has its
rough work to be faced, but also activ interest for us in spite o f his errors,
ity and beauty to be enjoyed. The because he was an earnest and suffering
feeling o f health and strength is pre man and a great genius ; but his fame
dominant. Life laughs at death itself, must ever continue to lie where his
or meets it with a noble confidence,— greatest blame does, in his principal
is not taught to dread it as a malignant work. H e was a gratuitous logician,
goblin. Shakespeare has all the smiles a preposterous politician, a cruel theo
as w ell as tears o f Nature, and discerns logian ; but his wonderful imagination,
the “ soul o f goodness in things evil.” and (considering the bitterness that was
H e is comedy as w ell as tragedy, — the in him) still more wonderful sweet
entire man in all his qualities, moods, ness, have gone into the hearts o f his
and experiences ; and he beautifies all. fellow-creatures, and w ill remain there
And both those truly divine poets make in spite o f the moral and religious ab
Nature their subject through her own surdities w ith which they are mingled,
inspiriting m edium ,— not through the and o f the inability w hich the best-
darkened glass o f one man’s spleen and natured readers feel to associate his
resentment. Dante, in constituting entire memory, as a poet, w ith their
him self the hero o f his poem, not only usual personal delight in a poet and his
renders her, in the general impression, name.
DANTE AND TACITUS.

By Rev. H. H. Milman, History of Latin Christianity, Book X IV . ch. 5.
Christendom owes to Dante the crea inflexible bondage o f the established

tion o f Italian Poetry, through Italian, hierarchical Latin o f Europe. H e had
o f Christian Poetry. It required all almost yielded, and had actually com
the courage, firmness, and prophetic menced the D ivine Com edy in the
sagacity o f Dante to throw aside the ancient, it seemed, the universal and
Dante and Tacitus 39 1
eternal language. But the poet had the Second, and o f his accomplished
profoundly meditated, and deliberately son. It has been boldly said, that it
resolved on his appeal to the Italian was part o f Frederick’s magnificent
mind and heart. Y et even then he design o f universal empire : he would
had to choose, to a certain extent to make Italy one realm, under one king,
form, the pure, vigorous, picturesque, and speaking one language. Dante
harmonious Italian w hich was to be does homage to the noble character of
intelligible, w hich was to become na Frederick the Second. Sicily was the
tive and popular to the universal ear o f birthplace o f Italian Poetry. The
Italy. H e had to create; out o f a Sicilian Poems live to bear witness to
chaos he had to summon light. Every the truth o f Dante’s assertion, w hich
kingdom, every province, every district, might rest on his irrefragable authority
almost every city, had its dialect, pecu alone. T h e Poems, one even earlier
liar, separate, distinct, rude in con than the Court o f Frederick, those of
struction, harsh, in different degrees, Frederick himself, o f Pietro della V ig-
in utterance. Dante in his book on na, o f King Enzio, o f King Manfred,
Vulgar Eloquence ranges over the w ith some peculiarities in the forma
whole land, rapidly discusses the Sicil tion, orthography, use, and sounds of
ian and Apulian, the Roman and Spo- words, are intelligible from one end of
letan, the Tuscan and Genoese, the the peninsula <o the other. T h e lan
Romagnole and the Lombard, th e T re - guage was echoed and perpetuated, or
visan and Venetian, the Istrian and rather resounded spontaneously, among
Friulian; all are coarse, harsh, muti poets in other districts. T h is courtly,
lated, defective. T h e least bad is the aristocratical, universal Italian, Dante
vulgar Bolognese. But high above all heard as the conventional dialect in the
this discord he seems to discern, and to Courts o f the Caesars, in the republics,
receive into his prophetic ears, a noble in the principalities throughout Italy.
and pure language, common to all, pe Perhaps Dante, the Italian, the Ghibel-
culiar to none, a language w hich he de line, the assertor o f the universal tem
scribes as Illustrious, Cardinal, Courtly, poral monarchy, dwelt not less fondly
i f we may use our phrase, Parliamen in his imagination on this universal and
tary, that is, o f the palace, the courts noble Italian language, because it would
'o f justice, and of public affairs. No supersede the Papal and hierarchical
doubt it sprung, though its affiliation is Latin ; the Latin, with the Pope him
by no means clear, out o f the universal self, would withdraw into the sanc
degenerate Latin, the rustic tongue, tuary, into the service o f the Church,
common not in Italy alone, but in all into affairs purely spiritual.
the provinces o f the Roman Empire. How ever this might be, to this ve
Its first domicile was the splendid Si hicle o f his noble thoughts Dante fear
cilian and Apulian Court o f Frederick lessly intrusted his poetic immortality,
392 Illustrations
w hich no poet anticipated w ith more elements, o f Orientalism and O cciden
confident security. W hile the scholar talism, in the language ? From the
Petrarch condescended to the vulgar time o f Trajan, except Claudian, Latin
tongue in his amatory poems, which he letters are almost exclusively Chris
had still a lurking fear might be but tian; and Christian letters are Latin,
ephemeral, in his Africa and in his as it were, in a secondary and degen
Latin verses he laid up, as he fondly erate form. T h e new era opens with
thought, an imperishable treasure o f Dante.
fame. Even Boccaccio, happily for his T o my mind there is a singular kin
own glory, followed the example o f dred and similitude between the last
Dante, as he too probably supposed in great Latin and the first great Italian
his least enduring work, his gay D e- w riter, though one is a poet, the other
camerone. Yet Boccaccio doubted, an historian. Tacitus and Dante have
towards the close o f his life, whether the same penetrative truth o f observa
the Divine Comedy had not been more tion as fo man and the external world
sublime, and therefore destined to a o f man ; the same power o f express
more secure eternity, in Latin. ing that truth. T h e y have the com
Thus in Italy, with the Italian lan mon gift o f flashing a whole train of
guage, o f w hich, i f he was not abso thought, a vast range o f images on the
lutely the creator, he was the first who mind, by a few brief and pregnant
gave it permanent and vital being, arose words ; the same faculty o f giving life
one of the great poets o f the world. to human emotions by natural images,
T h ere is a vast chasm between the o f imparting to natural images, as it
close o f Roman and the dawn o f Ital w ere, human life and human sympa
ian letters, between the period at w hich thies : each has the intuitive judgment
appeared the last creative work written o f saying just enough ; the stern self-
by transcendent human genius in the restraint w hich w ill not say more than
Roman language, w hile yet in its con enough; the rare talent o f compressing
summate strength and perfection, and a mass o f profound thought into an
the first in w hich Italian poetry and apophthegm ; each paints with words,
the Italian tongue came forth in their w ith the fewest possible words, yet the
majesty ; between the history o f T a c i picture lives and speaks. Each has that
tus and the Divina Commedia. No relentless moral indignation, that awful
one can appreciate more highly than power o f satire, w hich in the historian
m yself (if I may venture to speak o f condemns to an immortality o f earthly
m yself) the great works o f ecclesias infamy, in the Christian poet aggravates
tical Latin, the Vulgate, parts o f the that gloomy immortality o f this world
Ritual, St. Augustine : yet who can by ratifying it in the next. Each might
deny that there is barbarism, a yet seem to embody remorse. Patrician,
unreconciled confusion o f uncongenial high, imperial, princely, Papal crimi
Dante and Tacitus 393
nals are compelled to acknowledge the Latin Christianity, but they are real in
justice o f their doom. Each, too, w rit the sense o f the early Christian Fathers.
ing, one o f times just passed, o f w hich T h e y are acknowledged as a part o f the
the influences were strongly felt in the vast hostile Demon world, just as the
social state and fortunes o f Rom e, — the Angelic Orders, w hich from Jewish or
other o f his own, in w hich he had Oriental tradition obtained their first
been actively concerned, — throws a organization in the hierarchy o f the
personal passion (Dante o f course the Areopagite. So, too, the schools o f
most) into his judgments and his lan T heology meet in the poet. Aquinas,
guage, w hich, whatever may be its it has been said, has nothing more sub
effect on their justice, adds wonderfully tile and metaphysical than the Paradise,
to their force and reality. Each, too, only that in Dante single lines, or
has a lofty sympathy w ith good, only pregnant stanzas, have the full meaning
that the highest ideal o f Tacitus is a o f pages or chapters o f divinity. But
death-defying Stoic, or an all-accom though his doctrine is that o f Aquinas,
plished Roman Proconsul, an Helvidius Dante has all the fervor and passion o f
Thrasea, or an A g rico la ; that o f Dante, the M ystics; he is Bonaventura as w ell
a suffering, and so purified and beatified as St. Thom as.
Christian saint, or m artyr; in Tacitus Dante was in all respects but one,
it is a majestic and virtuous Roman his Ghibellinism , the religious poet o f
matron, an Agrippina, in Dante an un his age, and to many minds not less
real mysterious Beatrice. religious for that exception. He was
Dante is not merely the religious anti-Papal, but w ith the fullest rever
poet o f Latin or mediaeval Christianity; ence for the spiritual supremacy o f the
in him that mediaeval Christianity is successor o f St. Peter. T o him, as to
summed up as it w ere, and embodied most religious Imperialists or G hibel-
for perpetuity. T h e D ivine Comedy lines, to some o f the spiritual Francis
contains in its sublimest form the whole cans, to a vast host o f believers through
m ythology, and at the same time the out Christendom, the Pope was two
quintessence, the living substance, the distinct personages. One, the tempo
ultimate conclusions o f the Scholastic ral, they scrupled not to condemn with
T h eo lo gy. T h e w hole course o f L e the fiercest reprobation, to hate with
gend, the Dem onology, Angelology, the bitterest cordiality : Dante damns
the extra mundane w orld, w hich in pontiffs without fear or remorse. But
the popular belief was vague, fragmen the other, the Spiritual Pope, was
tary, incoherent, in Dante, as we have w orthy o f all awe or reverence ; his
seen, becomes an actual, visible, har sacred person must be inviolate ; his
monious system. In Dante heathen words, i f not infallible, must be heard
images, heathen m ythology, are blended with the profoundest respect; he is
in the same living reality w ith those o f the V icar o f Christ, the representative
vo l . ii. 50
394 Illustrations
o f God upon earth. W ith his G hibel- the Second, whom w e have just heard
line brethren Dante closed his eyes described as the parent o f Italian poetry,
against the incongruity, the inevitable the model o f a mighty Emperor, the
incongruity, o f these two discordant Caesar o f Czesars, is in hell as an arch-
personages meeting in one : the same heretic, as an atheist. In hell, in the
Boniface is in hell, yet was o f such same dreary circle, up to his waist in
acknowledged sanctity on earth that it fire, is the noblest o f the Ghibellines,
was spiritual treason to touch his awful Farinata degli U berti. In hell for the
person. T h e Saints o f Dante are the same sin is the father o f his dearest
Saints o f the Church ; on the highest friend and brother poet Guido Caval
height o f wisdom is St. Thom as, on canti. W hatever latent sympathy seems
the highest height o f holiness, St. Bene to transpire for Fra D olcino, he is un
dict, St. Dom inic, St. Francis. To relentingly thrust down to the com
the religious adversaries o f the Church panionship o f Mohammed. T h e Cath
he has all the stern remorselessness o f olic may not reverse the sentence o f the
an inquisitor. T h e noble Frederick Church.
D A N T E ' S L A N D S C A P E S .
From Ruskin’s Modern Painters, Vol. III. ch. 14.
T h e thing that must first strike us in passes ; mapped and properly surveyed
this respect, as we turn our thoughts to in every direction, trenched in a thor
the poem, is, unquestionably, the fo r oughly good style o f engineering from
mality o f its landscape. depth to depth, and divided in the
M ilton’s effort, in all that he tells us “ accurate middle ” ( dritto mezzo') o f
o f his Inferno, is to make it indefinite ; its deepest abyss into a concentric se
Dante’s, to make it definite. Both, in ries o f ten moats and embankments,
deed, describe it as entered through like those about a castle, with bridges
gates ; but, within the gate, all is w ild from each embankment to the n e x t;
and fenceless with M ilton, having in precisely in the manner o f those bridges
deed its four rivers, — the last vestige over Hiddekel and Euphrates, w hich
o f the mediaeval tradition, — but rivers M r. Macaulay thinks so innocently de
w hich flow through a waste o f moun signed, apparently not aware that he is
tain and moorland, and by “ many a also laughing at Dante. These larger
frozen, many a fiery alp.” But Dante’s fosses are o f rock, and the bridges also;
Inferno is accurately separated into but as he goes further into detail, Dante
circles drawn w ith well-pointed com tells us o f various minor fosses and em
Dantes Landscapes 395
bankments, in w hich he anxiously points vague than to define it. Imagination
out to us not only the formality, but is always the seeing and asserting fac
the neatness and perfectness, o f the u lty; that w hich obscures or conceals
stone-work. For instance, in describ may be judgment, or feeling, but not
ing the river Phlegethon, he tells us invention. T h e invention, whether
that it was “ paved w ith stone at the good or bad, is in the accurate en
bottom, and at the sides, and over the gineering, not in the fog and uncer
edges o f the sides” just as the water is tainty.
at the baths o f Bulicame ; and for fear W hen w e pass w ith Dante from the
we should think this embankment at all Inferno to the Purgatory, we have in
larger than it really was, Dante adds, deed more light and air, but no more
carefully, that it was made just like liberty; being now confined on various
the embankments o f G hent or Bruges ledges cut into a mountain-side, w ith a
against the sea, or those in Lombardy precipice on one hand and a vertical
w hich bank the Brenta, only “ not so w all on the other ; and, lest here also
high, nor so w id e,” as any o f these. w e should make any mistake about
And besides the trenches, w e have two magnitudes, we are told that the ledges
w ell-built castles ; one like Ecbatana, were eighteen feet w ide, and that the
w ith seven circuits o f wall (and sur ascent from one to the other was by
rounded by a fair stream), wherein the steps, made like those w hich go up
great poets and sages o f antiquity live ; from Florence to the church o f San
and another, a great fortified city w ith M iniato.
walls o f iron, red-hot, and a deep fosse Lastly, though in the Paradise there
round it, and full o f “ grave citizens,” is perfect freedom and infinity o f space,
— the city o f Dis. though for trenches w e have planets,
N o w , whether this be in what w e and for cornices constellations, yet
moderns call “ good taste,” or not, I there is more cadence, procession, and
do not mean just now to inquire, — order among the redeemed souls than
Dante having nothing to do w ith taste, any others ; they fly so as to describe
but w ith the facts o f what he had letters and sentences in the air, and
seen ; only, so far as the imaginative rest in circles, like rainbows, or deter
faculty o f the two poets is concerned, minate figures, as o f a cross and an
note that M ilton’s vagueness is not the eagle ; in w hich certain o f the more
sign o f imagination, but o f its absence, glorified natures are so arranged as to
so far as it is significative in the matter. form the eye o f the bird, w hile those
For it does not follow , because M ilton most highly blessed are arranged w ith
did not map out his Inferno as Dante their white crowds in leaflets, so as to
did, that he could not have done so i f form the image o f a white rose in the
he had chosen ; only, it was the easier midst o f heaven.
and less imaginative process to leave it T h u s, throughout the poem, I con
396 Illustrations
ceive that the first striking character o f tion by Sophocles, for, in a passage
its scenery is intense definition ; pre which is always regarded by readers of
cisely the reflection o f that definiteness Greek tragedy with peculiar pleasure,
w hich we have already traced in picto the aged and blind CEdipus, brought to
rial art. But the second point w hich rest in “ the sweetest resting-place ” in
seems noteworthy is, that the flat all the neighborhood o f Athens, has
ground and embanked trenches are re the spot described to him as haunted
served for the Inferno ; and that the perpetually by nightingales, w hich sing
entire territory o f the Purgatory is a “ in the green glades and in the dark
mountain, thus marking the sense o f ivy, and in the thousand-fruited, sun
that purifying and perfecting influence less, and windless thickets o f the god ”
in mountains which we saw the medi (Bacchus) ; the idea o f the complete
aeval mind was so ready to suggest. shelter from wind and sun being here,
T h e same general idea is indicated at as w ith Ulysses, the uppermost one.
the very commencement o f the poem, After this come the usual staples of
in w hich Dante is overwhelmed by landscape, — narcissus, crocus, plenty
fear and sorrow in passing through a o f rain, olive-trees ; and last, and the
dark forest, but revives on seeing the greatest boast o f a ll,— “ it is a good
sun touch the top o f a hill, afterwards country for horses, and conveniently
called by V irgil “ the pleasant mount, by the se a ” ; but the prominence and
— the cause and source o f all delight.” pleasantness o f the thick wood in the
W h ile, however, we find this greater thoughts o f the writer are very notable;
honor paid to mountains, I think we whereas to Dante the idea o f a forest
may perceive a much greater dread and is exceedingly repulsive, so that, as
dislike o f woods. W e saw that Homer just noticed, in the opening o f his
seemed to attach a pleasant idea, for poem, he cannot express a general
the most part, to forests ; regarding despair about life more strongly than
them as sources o f wealth and places by saying he was lost in a v/ood so
o f shelter; and we find constantly an savage and terrible, that “ even to think
idea o f sacredness attached to them, or speak o f it is distress, — it was so
as being haunted especially by the bitter, — it was something next door
gods ; so that even the wood w hich to death ” ; and one o f the saddest
surrounds the house o f Circe is spoken scenes in all the Inferno is in a forest,
o f as a sacred thicket, or rather as a o f which the trees are haunted by lost
sacred glade, or labyrinth o f glades (o f souls ; w hile, (w ith only one excep
the particular word used I shall have tion,) whenever the country is to be
more to say presen tly); and so the beautiful, we find ourselves coming out
wood is sought as a kindly shelter by into open air and open meadows.
Ulysses, in spite o f its w ild beasts; It is quite true that this is partly a
and evidently regarded with great affec characteristic, not merely o f Dante, or
o f mediaeval writers, but o f Southern open ground as long as he could, and
writers ; for the simple reason that the regarded the forests, in general, with
forest, being with them higher upon anything but an eye of favor.
the hills, and more out o f the w ay, than T hese, I think, are the principal
in the north, was generally a type o f points w hich must strike us, when we
lonely and savage places ; w hile in first broadly think o f the poem as com
England, the “ greenwood ” coming up pared with classical work. L et us now
to the very walls o f the towns, it was go a little more into detail.
possible to be “ merry in the good As Homer gave us an ideal land
greenwood,” in a sense w hich an Ital scape, w hich even a god might have
ian could not have understood. Hence been pleased to behold, so Dante gives
Chaucer, Spenser, and Shakespeare send us, fortunately, an ideal landscape,
their favorites perpetually to the woods w hich is specially intended for the ter
for pleasure or meditation ; and trust restrial paradise. And it w ill doubtless
their tender Canace, or Rosalind, or be with some surprise, after our reflec
H elena, or Silvia, or Belphoebe, where tions above on the general tone of
Dante would have sent no one but a Dante’s feelings, that we find ourselves
condemned spirit. Nevertheless, there here first entering a forest, and that
is always traceable in the mediaeval even a thick forest. But there is a pe
mind a dread o f thick foliage, w hich culiar meaning in this. W ith any
was not present to that o f a G reek ; so other poet than Dante, it might have
that, even in the N orth, w e have our been regarded as a wanton inconsist
sorrowful “ children in the w ood,” and ency, N ot so with him : by glancing
black huntsmen o f the H artz forests, back to the two lines w hich explain
and such other wood terrors; the prin the nature o f Paradise, we shall see
cipal reason for the difference being, what he means by it. V irgil tells him,
that a G reek, being by no means given as he enters it, “ H enceforward, take
to travelling, regarded his woods as so thine own pleasure for guide ; thou art
much valuable property, and, i f he beyond the steep ways, and beyond all
ever went into them for pleasure, ex A rt ” ; — meaning, that the perfectly
pected to meet one or two gods in the purified and noble human creature,
course o f his w alk, but no banditti ; having no pleasure but in right, is past
w hile a mediaeval, much more o f a all effort, and past all rule. A rt has
solitary traveller, and expecting to meet no existence for such a being. H ence,
w ith no gods in the thickets, but only the first aim o f Dante, in his landscape
w ith thieves, or a hostile ambush, or a imagery, is to show evidence o f this
bear, besides a great deal o f trouble perfect liberty, and o f the purity and
some ground for his horse, and a very sinlessness o f the new nature, convert
serious chance, next to a certainty, o f ing pathless ways into happy ones.
losing his w ay, naturally kept in the So that all those fences and formalisms
39 8 Illustrations
w hich had been needed for him in “ A lady, graced w ith solitude, who went
imperfection are removed in this para Singing and setting flower by flower apart,
B y which the path she w alked on was besprent.
dise ; and even the pathlessness o f the
‘ A h , lady beautiful, that basking art
wood, the most dreadful thing possible
In beams o f love, i f I may trust thy face,
to him in his days o f sin and short W h ich useth to bear witness o f the heart,
coming, is now a joy to him in his days L et lik in g come on thee,’ said I, ‘ to trace
o f purity. And as the fencelessness T h y path a little closer to the shore,
and thicket o f sin led to the fettered W here I may reap the hearing o f thy lays.
T h o u mindest me, how Proserpine o f yore
and fearful order o f eternal punish
Appeared in such a place, what time her
ment, so the fencelessness and thicket mother
o f the free virtue lead to the loving Lost her, and she the spring, forevermore.’
and constellated order o f eternal hap A s, pointing downwards and to one another
piness. H er feet, a lady bendeth in the dance,

A n d barely setteth one before the other,
T h is forest, then, is very like that
Th u s, on the scarlet and the saffron glance
o f Colonos in several respects, — in its O f flowers with motion maidenlike she bent
peace and sweetness, and number o f (H er modest eyelids drooping and a skan ce);
birds ; it differs from it only in letting A n d there she gave my wishes their content,
a light breeze through it, being there Approaching, so that her sweet melodies
Arrived upon mine ear with what they meant.
fore somewhat thinner than the Greek
W h en first she came amongst the blades that rise,
wood ; the tender lines which tell o f Already wetted, from the goodly river,
the voices o f the birds mingling w ith She graced me by the lifting o f her eyes.”
the wind, and o f the leaves all turning Ca yley.
one w ay before it, have been more or I have given this passage at length,
less copied by every poet since Dante’s because, for our purposes, it is by much
time. T h e y are, so far as I know, the the most important, not only in Dante,
sweetest passage o f wood description but in the whole circle o f poetry.
w hich exists in literature. T h is lady, observe, stands on the op
Before, however, Dante has gone far posite side o f the little stream, w hich,
in this wood, — that is to say, only so presently, she explains to Dante is
far as to have lost sight o f the place Lethe, having power to cause forget
where he entered it, or rather, I sup fulness o f all evil, and she stands just
pose, o f the light under the boughs o f among the bent blades o f grass at its
the outside trees, and it must have been edge. She is first seen gathering flower
a very thin wood indeed i f he did not from flower, then “ passing continually
do this in some quarter o f a mile’s the multitudinous flowers through her
walk, — he comes to a little river, hands,” smiling at the same time so
three paces over, which bends the brightly, that her first address to Dante
blades o f grass to the left, with a mead is to prevent him from wondering at
ow on the other side o f i t ; and in her, saying, “ i f he w ill remember the
this meadow verse o f the ninety-second Psalm, be
ginning ‘ Delectasti,’ he w ill know w hy T h a t I am Leah ; for my brow to weave
she is so happy.” A garland, these fair hands unwearied p ly;

T o please me at the crystal mirror, here
And turning to the verse o f the
I deck me. But my sister R achel, she
Psalm, we find it w ritten, “ T h ou , Before her glass abides the livelong day,
Lord, hast made me glad through thy H er radiant eyes beholding, charmed no less
works. I w ill triumph in the works of Th an I with this delightful task. Her joy
thy hands or, in the very words in In contemplation, as in labor m ine.’ ”
w hich Dante would read it, — T h is vision o f Rachel and Leah has
“ Quia delectasti me, Dom ine, in factura tua, been always, and w ith unquestionable
E t in operibus manuum Tuarum exultabo.” truth, received as a type o f the Active
N o w we could not for an instant and Contemplative life, and as an intro
have had any difficulty in understand duction to the two divisions o f the
ing this, but that, some way farther on Paradise which Dante is about to enter.
in the poem, this lady is called Matilda, Therefore the unwearied spirit o f the
and it is with reason supposed by the Countess Matilda is understood to rep
commentators to be the great Countess resent the A ctive life, w hich forms
Matilda o f the eleventh century; nota the felicity o f Earth ; and the spirit of
ble equally for her ceaseless activity, Beatrice the Contemplative life, w hich
her brilliant political genius, her per forms the felicity o f Heaven. T h is
fect piety, and her deep reverence for interpretation appears at first straight
the see o f Rome. T h is Countess M a forward and certain, but it has missed
tilda is therefore Dante’s guide in the count o f exactly the most important
terrestrial paradise, as Beatrice is after fact in the two passages which we have
wards in the celestial; each o f them to explain. Observe : Leah gathers
having a spiritual and symbolic char the flowers to decorate herself and de
acter in their glorified state, yet retain lights in Her Own Labor. Rachel sits
ing their definite personality. silent, contemplating herself, and de
T h e question is, then, what is the lights in Her Own Image. T hese are
symbolic character o f the Countess the types o f the Unglorified Active and
M atilda, as the guiding spirit o f the Contemplative powers o f Man. But
terrestrial paradise ? Before Dante had Beatrice and Matilda are the same
entered this paradise he had rested on powers, Glorified. And how are they
a step o f shelving rock, and as he Glorified ? Leah took delight in her
watched the stars he slept, and dreamed, own labor ; but Matilda — “ in operi
and thus tells us what he s a w : — bus manuum Tuarum ” — in God's la
bor ; — Rachel in the sight o f her own
“ A lady, young and beautiful, I dreamed,
face ; Beatrice in the sight o f God's
W as passing o’er a lea ; and, as she came,
M ethought I saw her ever and anon
face.
Bending to cull the flowers; and thus she sang: And thus, when afterwards Dante
1K now ye, whoever o f my name would ask, sees Beatrice on her throne, and prays
400 Illustrations
her that, when he him self shall die, begun here on earth, Beatrice descends
she would receive him w ith kindness, to earth ; and when revealed to Dante
Beatrice merely looks down for an in first, he 6ees the image o f the twofold
stant, and answers w ith a single smile, personality o f Christ reflected in her
then “ towards the eternal fountain eyes ; as the flowers, w hich are, to the
turns.” mediaeval heart, the ch ief work o f God,
Therefore it is evident that Dante are forever passing through M atilda’s
distinguishes in both cases, not be bands.
tween earth and heaven, but between N o w , therefore, we see that Dante,
perfect and imperfect happiness, wheth as the great prophetic exponent o f the
er in earth or heaven. T h e active heart o f the M iddle Ages, has, by the
life w hich has only the service o f lips o f the spirit o f Matilda, declared
man for its end, and therefore gath the mediaeval faith, — that all perfect
ers flowers, with Leah, for its own active 'life was “ the expression of
decoration, is indeed happy, but not man’s delight in God's work and that
perfectly so ; it has only the happiness all their political and warlike energy,
o f the dream, belonging essentially to as fully shown in the mortal life of
the dream o f human life, and passing Matilda, was yet inferior and impure,
away with it. But the active life w hich — the energy o f the dream, — com
labors for the more and more discovery pared with that w hich on the opposite
o f G od ’s work, is perfectly happy, and bank o f Lethe stood “ choosing flower
is the life o f the terrestrial paradise, from flow er.” And what joy and
being a true foretaste o f heaven, and peace there were in this work is
beginning in earth, as heaven’s vesti marked by M atilda’s being the person
bule. So also the contemplative life who draws Dante through the stream
which is concerned with human feel o f Lethe, so as to make him forget all
ing and thought and beauty — the life sin, and all sorrow : throwing her
which is in earthly poetry and imagery arms round him, she plunges his head
o f noble earthly emotion — is happy, under the waves o f it; then draws him
but it is the happiness o f the dream ; through, crying to him, “ Hold me, hold
the contemplative life w hich has G od ’s me” (T iem m i, tiemmi), and so presents
person and love in Christ for its ob him, thus bathed, free from all painful
ject, has the happiness o f eternity. memory, at the feet o f the spirit o f the
But because this higher happiness is also more heavenly contemplation.
Dantes Creed 401
D J N T E ’S C R E E D .
From the Foreign Quarterly Review, No. L X V . Art. I.
Another thought sustained him, and Dante aimed at, in order that those
was the end towards w hich he directed who desire to come to a just estimate o f
all the energies w hich love had roused his life may have sufficient grounds to
within him ; and this must be specially judge him. T h is we shall do as rapidly
insisted upon, because, wonderfully as possible, relying upon passages in
enough ! even in the present day it is the Convito, and his little treatise De
either misunderstood or lightly treated Monarchia, for our authority. The
by all who busy themselves about following, then, is a summary o f what,
Dante. T h is aim is the national aim, in the thirteenth century, Dante be
— the same desire that vibrates instinc lieved.
tively in the bosoms o f twenty-two God is one, — the universe is one
millions o f men, and w hich is the thought o f G od, — the universe there
secret o f the immense popularity Dante fore is one. A ll things come from
has in Italy. T h is idea and the almost G od , — they all participate, more or
superhuman constancy w ith w hich he less, in the Divine nature, according to
pursued it, render Dante the most com the end for w hich they are created.
plete individual incarnation o f this aim T h e y all float towards different points
that w e know, and, notwithstanding, over the great ocean o f existence, but
this is just the point upon w hich his bi they are all moved by the same w ill.
ographers are the most uncertain......... Flowers in the garden o f God all merit
It must be said and insisted upon, our love according to the degree o f ex
that this idea o f national greatness is cellence he has bestowed upon each ;
the leading thought in all that Dante o f these M a n is the most eminent.
did or wrote. N ever man loved his U pon him G od has bestowed more o f
country w ith a more exalted or fervent his own nature than upon any other
love ; never had man such projects o f creature. In the continuous scale o f
magnificent and exalted destinies for being, that man whose nature is the
her. A ll who consider Dante as a most degraded touches upon the ani
Guelph or a Ghibelline grovel at the mal ; he whose nature is the most
base o f the monument w hich he desired noble approaches that o f the angel.
to raise to Italy. W e are not here Everything that comes from the hand
required to give an opinion upon the o f G od tends towards the perfection o f
degree o f feasibility o f Dante’s ideas, w hich it is susceptible, and man more
— the future must decide this point. fervently and more vigorously than all
W hat w e have to do is to show what the rest. T here is this difference be
V O L. II. 51
402 Illustrations
tween him and other creatures, that his then o f necessity be some centre to
perfectibility is what Dante calls pos w hich the general inspiration o f man
sible, meaning indefinite. Com ing from kind ascends, thence to flow down again
the bosom o f G od, the human soul in the form o f L a w , — a power strong
incessantly aspires towards H im , and in unity, and in the supporting advice o f
endeavors by holiness and knowledge the higher intellects naturally destined
to become reunited with Him . N o w to rule, providing with calm wisdom
the life o f the individual man is too for all the different functions w hich are
short and too weak to enable him to to be fulfilled, — the distinct employ
satisfy that yearning in this w orld; but ments, — itself performing the part o f
around him, before him, stands the ilot, o f supreme chief, in order to
whole human race to w hich he is allied bring to the highest perfection what
by his social nature, — that never dies, Dante calls “ the universal religion
but works through one generation o f its o f hum^n nature ” ; that is, em pire,—
members after another onwards, in the I m p e r iu m . It w ill maintain concord
road to eternal truth. Mankind is one. amongst the rulers o f states, and this
God has made nothing in vain, and i f peace w ill diffuse itself from thence
there exists a multitude, a collective o f into towns, from the towns among each
men, it is because there is one aim for cluster o f habitations, into every house,
J!., — one work to be accom- into the bosom o f each man. But
piiahcd-Vi thîn all. W hatever this aim where is the seat o f this empire to be ?
& u does certainly exist, and we A t this question Dante quits all ana
must endeavor to discover and attain it. lytic argumentation, and takes up the
Mankind, then, ought to work togeth language o f synthetical and absolute af
er, in order that all the intellectual firmation, like a man in whom the least
powers that are bestowed amongst them expression o f doubt excites astonish
may receive the highest possible de ment.
velopment, whether in the sphere o f H e is no longer a philosopher, he is a
thought or action. It is only by har- believer. H e shows R o m e , the H o l y
C i t y , as he calls her, — the city whose
monv, consequently by association, that
this is possiHe. Mankind must be one, very stones he declares to be worthy
even as God is one ; — one in organiza o f reverence, — “ There is the seat oJ
tion, as it is already one in its princi empire.” T here never was, and there
ple. Unitv is taught by the manifest never w ill be, a people endowed with
desirn o f God in the external world, more gentleness for the exercise of
and by the necessity o f an aim. N ow command, with more vigor to maintain
unitv seeks for something by which it it, and more capacity to acquire it, than
may be represented, and this is found the Italian nation, and above all, the
in a unity o f government. T h ere must H o ly Roman people.
The Divina Commedia 403
THE DIVINA COMMEDIA.

From the German of Schelling.
In the sanctuary where Religion “ is haust it. N or can w e call it E pic, in

married to immortal verse ” stands the usual acceptation o f the word, since
Dante as high-priest, and consecrates all there is no regular sequence in the
modern A rt to its vocation. N ot as a events represented. T o look upon it
solitary poem, but representing the as a Didactic poem is likewise impos
w hole class o f the N ew Poetry, and sible, because it is written with a far
itself a separate class, stands the “ D i less restricted form and aim than that
vine C om edy,” so entirely unique, that o f teaching. It belongs, therefore, to
any theory drawn from peculiar forms none o f these classes in particular, nor
is quite inadequate to it; — a world is it merely a compound o f them ; but
by itself, it demands its own peculiar an entirely unique, and as it were or
theory. T h e predicate o f D ivine was ganic, mixture o f all their elements,
given it by its author,* because it treats not to be reproduced by any arbitrary
o f theology and things d ivin e; Comedy rules o f -art, — an absolute individu
he called it, after the simplest notion ality, comparable with itself alone, and
o f this and its opposite kind, on ac w ith naught else.
count o f its fearful beginning and its T h e material o f the poem is, in
happy ending, and because the mixed general terms, the express identity o f
nature o f the poem, whose material is the poet’s age ; — the interpenetration
now lofty and now low ly, rendered a o f the events thereof with the ideas o f
mixed kind o f style necessary. Religion, Science, and Poetry in the
/ One readily perceives, however, that, loftiest genius o f that century. Our
according to the common notion, it intention is not to consider it in its
cannot be called Dramatic, because it immediate reference to its age ; but
represents no circumscribed action. rather in its universal application, and
So far as Dante him self may be looked as the archetype o f all modern Poetry.
upon as the hero, who serves only as T h e necessary law o f this poetry,
a thread for the measureless series o f down to the still indefinitely distant
visions and pictures, and remains rather point where the great epic o f modern
passive than active, the poem seems to times, wKich hitherto has announced
approach nearer to a R o m an ce; yet itself only rhapsodically and in broken
this definition does not completely ex- glimpses, shall present itself as a per
* T h e title o f “ Divina ” was not given to
fect whole, is this, — that the individ
the poem till long after Dante’s death. It first ual gives shape and unity to that por
appears in the edition o f 1 5 1 6 .— T r . tion o f the world w hich is revealed to
404 Illustrations
him, and out o f the materials o f his preceded Poetry and M ythology, w hich
time, its history, and its science, creates cannot be M ythology without being
his own mythology. For as the an universal, and drawing into its circle all
cient world is, in general, the world o f the elements o f the then existing cul
classes, so the modern is that o f indi ture, Science, Religion, and even A rt,
viduals. In the former, the Universal and joining in a perfect unity the mate
is in truth the Particular, the race acts rial not only o f the present but o f the
as an individual; in the latter, the past. Into this struggle (since A rt de
Individual is the point o f departure, mands something definite and limited,
and becomes the Universal. For this w hile the spirit q f the world rushes
reason, in the former all things are towards the unlimited, and with cease
permanent and im perishable: number less power sweeps down all barriers)
likewise is o f no account, since the must the Individual enter, but with
Universal idea coincides w ith that o f absolute; freedom seek to rescue per
the In dividual; — in the latter con manent shapes from the fluctuations o f
stant mutation is the fixed law ; no time, and within arbitrarily assumed
narrow circle limits its ends, but one forms to give to the structure o f his po
w hich through Individuality widens em, by its absolute peculiarity, internal
itself to infinitude. And since U n i necessity and external universality.
versal! ty^tfiplongs to the essence q f T h is Dante has done. H e had be
.poetry, it is a necessary condition that fore him, as material, the history of
the Individual through the highest pe the present as well as o f the past. H e
culiarity should again become U niver could not elaborate this into a pure
sal, and by his complete speciality be Epos, partly on account o f its nature,
come again absolute. T hu s, through partly because, in doing this, he would
the perfect individuality and uniqueness have excluded other elements o f the
o f his poem, Dante is the creator o f culture o f his time. T o its complete
modern art, w hich without this arbi ness belonged also the astronomy, the
trary necessity, and necessary arbitrari theology, and the philosophy o f the
ness, cannot be imagined. time. T o these he could not give ex
From the very beginning o f Greek pression in a didactic poem, for by so
Poetry, we see it clearly separated from doing he would again have limited
Science and Philosophy, as in H om er; himself. Consequently, in order to
and this process o f separation continued make his poem universal, he was
until the poets and the philosophers obliged to make it historical. An in
became the antipodes o f each other. vention entirely uncontrolled, and pro
T h e y in vain, by allegorical interpre ceeding from his own individuality,
tations o f the Hom eric poems, sought was necessary to unite these materials,
artificially to create a harmony between and form them into an organic whole.
the two. In modern times Science has T o represent the ideas o f Philosophy
and Theology in symbols was impos riness, join together the allegorical and
sible, for there then existed no sym historical: he must be allegorical, (and
bolic M ythology. H e could quite as he is so, too, against his w ill,) because
little make his poem purely allegorical, he cannot be symbolical ; and he must
for then, again, it could not be histori be historical, because he wishes to be
cal. It was necessary, therefore, to poetical. In this respect his invention
make it an entirely unique mixture o f is always peculiar, a world by itself,
A llegory and H istory, In the emble and altogether characteristic.
matic poetry o f the ancients no clew T h e only German poem o f universal
o f this kind was possible, T h e Indi plan unites together in a similar manner
vidual only could lay hold o f it, and the outermost extremes in the aspira
only an uncontrolled invention foL tions o f the times, by a very peculiar
low it. invention o f a subordinate mythology,
T h e poem o f Dante is not allegorical in the character o f Faust; although, in
in the sense that its figures only signi the Aristophanic meaning o f the word,
fied something else, without having any it may far better be called a Com edy,
separate existence independent o f the and in another and more poetic sense
thing signified. O n tlie other hand, ^D ivine, than the poem o f Dante.
none o f them is independent o f the T h e energy w ith w hich the individ
thing signified in such a way as to be ual embodies the singuJar mixture o f
at once the idea itself and more than the materials w hich lie before him in
an allegory o f it. T h ere is therefore his age and his life, determines the
in his poem an entirely unique mean measure in w hich he possesses m ytho
between A llegory and symbolic-objec logical power. Dante’s personages
tive Form. T h ere is no doubt, and possess a kind o f eternity from the po
the poet has him self elsewhere declared sition in w hich he places them, and
it, that Beatrice, for example, is an w hich is eternal ; but not only the
A llegory, namely, o f T heo lo gy. So actual w hich he draws from his own
her companions ; so many other char time, as the story o f Ugolino and the
acters. But at the same time they like, but also what is pure invention,
count for themselves, and appear on as the death o f Ulysses and his com
the scene as historic personages, w ith panions, has in the connection o f his
out on that account being symbols. poem a real mythological truth.
In this respect Dante is archetypal, It would be o f but subordinate in
since he has proclaimed what the mod terest to represent by itself the P hi
ern poet has to do, in order to embody losophy, Physics, and Astronomy of
into a poetic w hole the entire history Dante, since his true peculiarity lies
and culture o f his age, — the only only in his manner o f fusing them w ith
mythological material w hich lies before his poetry. T h e Ptolemaic system,
him. H e must, from absolute arbitra w hich to a certain degree is the foun
406 Illustrations
dation o f his poetic structure, has al original and beautiful Poetry) is in it
ready in itself a mythological coloring. self already poetical. Dante’s poem is
If, however, his philosophy is to be a much higher interpenetration o f Sci
characterized in general as Aristotelian, ence and Poetry, and so much the more
w e must not understand by this the pure must its form, even in its freer self
Peripatetic philosophy, but a peculiar existence, be adapted to the universal
union o f the same with the ideas o f the type o f the w orld’s aspect.
Platonic then entertained, as may be T h e division o f the universe, and
proved by many passages o f his poem. the arrangement o f the materials ac
W e w ill not dwell upon the power cording to the three kingdoms o f H ell,
and solidity o f separate passages, the Purgatory, and Paradise, independently
simplicity and endless naivete o f sepa o f the peculiar meaning o f these ideas
rate pictures, in w hich he expresses his in Christian theology, are also a gen
philosophical views, as the well-known eral symbolic form, so that one does
description o f the soul w hich comes not see w h y under the same form every
from the hand o f G od as a little girl remarkable age should not have its own
“ weeping and laughing in its childish D ivine Com edy. As in the modern
sport,” a guileless soul, w hich knows Drama the form o f five acts is assumed
nothing, save that, moved by its joyful as the usual one, because every event
Creator, “ w illingly it turns to that may be regarded in its Beginning, its
w hich gives it pleasure ” ; — we speak Progress, its Culmination, its Denoue
only o f the general symbolic form o f ment, and its final Consummation, so
the w hole, in whose absoluteness, more this trichotom y, or threefold division
than in anythiug else, the universal o f Dante in the higher prophetic po
value and immortality o f this poem is etry, w hich is to be the expression o f
recognized. a w hole age, is conceivable as a gen
I f the union o f Philosophy and Po eral form, w hich in its filling up may
etry, even in their most subordinate be infinitely varied, as by the power o f
synthesis, is understood as making a original invention it can always be
didactic poem, it becomes necessary, quickened into new life. N ot alone,
since the poem must be without any how ever, as an external form, but as
external end and aim, that the inten an emblematical expression o f the in
tion (o f instructing) should lose itself ternal type o f all Science and Poetry,
in it, and be changed into an absolute is that form eternal, and capable o f
ness (in eine Absolutbeit verwandelt), embracing in itself the three great ob
so that the poem may seem to exist for jects o f science and culture, — Nature,
its own sake. And this is only con H istory, and A rt. Nature, as the
ceivable, when Science (considered as birth o f all things, is the eternal N igh t;
a picture o f the universe, and in per and as that unity through w hich these
fect harmony therewith, as the most are in themselves, it is the aphelion o f
the universe, the point o f farthest his design o f being allegorical, without
removal from G od, the true centre. ceasing to be historical and poetical.
L ife and H istory, whose nature is H ell, Purgatory, and Paradise are, as
gradual progress, are only a process it were, only his system o f T heology
o f clarification, a transition to an abso in its concrete and architectural devel
lute condition. T h is can nowhere be opment. T h e proportion, number,
found save in A rt, w hich anticipates and relations w hich he observes in
eternity, is the paradise o f life, and is their internal structure were prescribed
truly in the centre. by this science, and herein he re
Dante’s poem, therefore, viewed from nounced intentionally the freedom o f
all sides, is not an isolated work o f a invention, in order to give, by means
particular age, a particular stage o f cul o f form, necessity and limitation to his
ture ; but it is archetypal, by the uni poem, w hich in its materials was un
versal interest which it unites with the limited. T h e universal sanctity and
most absolute individuality, — by its significancy o f numbers is another ex
universality, in virtue o f w hich it ex ternal form upon w hich his poetry
cludes no side o f life and culture, — rests. So in general the entire logical
and, finally, by its form, w hich is not and syllogistic lore o f that age is for
a peculiar type, but the type o f the him only form, w hich must be granted
theory o f the universe in general. to him in order to attain to that region
T h e peculiar internal arrangement o f in w hich his poetry moves.
the poem certainly cannot possess this And yet in this adherence to relig
universal interest, since it is formed ious and philosophical notions, as the
upon the ideas o f the time, and the most universally interesting thing which
peculiar views o f the poet. On the his age offered, Dante never seeks an
other hand, as is to be expected from ordinary kind o f poetic probability ;
a work so artistic and full o f purpose, but rather renounces all intention of
the general inner type is again exter flattering the baser senses. His first
nally imaged forth, through the form, entrance into Hell takes place, as it
color, sound, o f the three great divis should take place, without any unpo-
ions o f the poem. etical attempt to assign a motive for it
From the extraordinary nature o f his or to make it intelligible, in a condition
material, Dante needed for the form o f like that o f a Vision, without, how
his creations in detail some kind o f ever, any intention o f making it appear
credentials w hich only the Science o f such. H is being drawn up by Bea
his time could give, and w hich for him trice’s eyes, through w hich the divine
are, so to speak, the M ythology and power is communicated to him, he ex
the general basis w hich supports the presses in a single lin e : what is won
daring edifice o f his inventions. But derful in his own adventures he im
even in the details he remains true to mediately changes to a likeness o f the
Illustrations
mysteries o f religion, and gives it cred is not daunted by what is te rrib le;
ibility by a yet higher mystery, as nay, he goes to its extreme limits. But
when he makes his entrance into the it could be shown, in every case, that
moon, w hich he compares to that o f he never ceases to be sublime, and in
light into the unbroken surface o f consequence truly beautiful. For that
water, an image o f G o d ’s incarna w hich men who are not capable of
tion. comprehending the whole have some
T o show the perfection o f art and times pointed out as low , is not so in
the depth o f purpose w hich was carried their sense o f the term, but it is a ne
even into the minor details o f the inner cessary element o f the mixed nature o f
structure o f the three worlds, would be the poem, on account o f w hich Dante
a science in itself. T h is was recog him self called it a Com edy. The
nized shortly after the poet’s death by hatred o f evil, the scorn o f a godlike
his nation, in their appointing a dis spirit, w hich are expressed in Dante’s
tinct Lectureship upon Dante, w hich fearful composition, are not the in
was first filled by Boccaccio. heritance o f common souls. It is in
But not only do the several incidents deed very doubtful still, though quite
in each o f the three parts of the poem generally believed, whether his banish
allow the universal character o f the first ment from Florence, after he had pre
form to shine through them, but the viously dedicated his poetry to L ove,
law thereof expresses itself yet more first spurred on his spirit, naturally in
definitely in the inner and spiritual clined to whatever was earnest and
rhythm, by w hich they are contra extraordinary, to the highest invention,
distinguished from each other. The in w hich he breathed forth the whole
Inferno, as it is the most fearful in its o f his life, o f the destiny o f his heart
objects, is likewise the strongest in ex and his country, together w ith his in
pression, the severest in diction, and in dignation thereat. But the vengeance
its very words dark and awful. In one w hich he takes in the Inferno, he takes
portion o f the Purgatorio deep silence in the name o f the D ay o f Judgment,
reigns, for the lamentations o f the as the elected Judge w ith prophetic
lower world grow mute ; upon its pow er, not from personal hate, but
summits, the forecourts o f Heaven, all w ith a pious soul roused by the abomi
becomes C o lo r : the Paradiso is the nations o f the times, and a love o f his
true music o f the spheres. native land long dead in others, as he
T h e variety and difference o f the has him self represented in a passage in
punishments in the Inferno are con the Paradiso, where he says : —
ceived with almost unexampled in
“ I f e’er it happen that the Poem sacred,
vention. Between the crime and the T o w hich both Earth and Heaven have lent
punishment there is never any other their hand,
than a poetic relation. Dante’s spirit T ill it hath made me meagre many a year,
The Dvvina Commedia 409
Conquer the cruelty that shuts me out ness o f coloring, but the journey up
O f the fair sheepfold, where a lamb I slumbered, the holy mountain o f Purgatory pre
A n enemy to the wolves that war upon it,
sents in detail a rapid succession of
W ith other voice forthw ith, with other fleece,
shifting landscapes, scenes, and mani
T h e poet shall return, and at the font
Baptismal shall he take the crown o f laurel.” fold play o f light; until upon its outer
most boundary, when the poet has
H e tempers the horror o f the tor reached the waters o f Lethe, the high
ments o f the damned by his own feel est pomp o f painting and color displays
ing for them, which at the end o f so itself, in the picturing o f the divine
much suffering so overwhelms him that primeval forest o f this region, o f the
he is ready to weep, and V irgil says celestial clearness o f the water overcast
to him, “ W herefore then art thou with its eternal shadow, o f the maiden
troubled ? ” whom he meets upon its banks, and
It has already been remarked, that the descent o f Beatrice in a cloud of
the greater part o f the punishments o f flowers, beneath a white veil, crowned
the Inferno are symbolical o f the with olive, wrapped in a green mantle,
crimes for w hich they are inflicted, and “ vested in colors o f the living
but many o f them are so in a far more flame.”
general relation. O f this kind is, in T h e poet has urged his way to light
particular, the representation o f a meta through the very heart o f the earth :
morphosis, in which two natures are in the darkness o f the lower world
mutually interchanged, and their sub forms alone could be distinguished : in
stance transmuted. N o metamorpho Purgatory light is kindled, but still in
sis o f Antiquity can compare with this connection with earthly matter, and
for invention, and i f a naturalist or a becomes color. In Paradise there re
didactic poet were able to sketch with mains nothing but the pure music of
such power emblems o f the eternal the lig h t; reflection ceases, and the
metamorphoses o f nature, he might Poet rises gradually to behold the color
congratulate him self upon it. less pure essence o f D eity itself.
As w e have already remarked, the T h e astronomical system w hich the
Inferno is not only distinguished from age o f the poet invested with a mytho
the other parts by the external form logical value, the nature o f the stars
o f its representation, but also by the and o f the measure o f their motion,
circumstance that it is peculiarly the are the ground upon w hich his inven
realm o f forms, and consequently the tions, in this part o f the poem, rest.
plastic part o f the poem. T h e Purga And i f he in this sphere o f the uncon
torio must be recognized as the pic ditioned still suffers degrees and differ
turesque part. N ot only are the pen ences to exist, he again removes them
ances here imposed upon sinners at by the glorious word w hich he puts
times pictorially treated, even to bright- into the mouth o f one o f the sister-
v o l . 11. 52
410 Illustrations
souls whom he meets in the moon, that gling o f all the elements o f poetry and
“ every Where in heaven is Paradise.” art, reaches in this way a perfect mani
T h e plan o f the poem renders it festation. T h is divine work is not
natural that, on the very ascent through plastic, not picturesque, not musical,
Paradise, the loftiest speculations o f but all o f these at once and in accord
theology should be discussed. H is ant harmony. It is not dramatic, not
deep reverence for this science is sym epic, not lyric, but a peculiar, unique,
bolized by his love o f Beatrice. In and unexampled mingling o f all these.
proportion as the field o f vision en I think I have shown, at the same
larges itself into the purely Universal, time, that it is prophetic, and typical
it is necessary that Poetry should be o f all the modern Poetry. It embraces
come M usic, form vanish, and that, in all its characteristics, and springs out
this point o f view , the Inferno should o f the intricately mingled materials of
appear the most poetic part o f the the same, as the first growth, stretch
w ork. But in this work it is abso ing itself afoove the earth and toward
lutely impossible to take things sepa the heavens, — the first fruit o f trans
rately ; and the peculiar excellence of figuration. T hose w ho would become
each separate part is authenticated and acquainted w ith the poetry o f modern
recognized only through its harmony times, not superficially, but at its foun-
w ith the whole. I f the relation o f the tain-head, may train themselves by this
three parts to the w hole is perceived, great and mighty spirit, in order to
we shall necessarily recognize the Para- know by what means the w hole o f the
diso as the purely musical and lyrical modern time may be embraced in its
portion, even in the design o f the poet, entireness, and that it is not held to
who expresses this in the external form gether by a loosely woven band. T h e y
by the frequent use o f the Latin words w ho have no vocation for this can apply
o f Church hymns. to themselves the words at the begin
T h e marvellous grandeur o f the ning o f the first part, —
poem, w hich gleams forth in the min “ Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch ’ intrate.”
END OF VOL. II.
Cam bridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.

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THE

HENRY W A D SW ORTH LONGFELLOW

I follow here the footing of thy feete

th e C le r k ’s O ffice o f th e D istrict C o u rt o f th e D istrict o f M assach u setts.

Farther Ascent of the Mountain. — The Negligent, who postponed Repentance

Those who died by Violence, but repentant. — Buonconte di Montefeltro. —

The Valley of the Princes 39

Dante’s Dream of the Eagle. — The Gate of P u r g a t o r y ................................... 51

The First Circle. — The Proud. — The Sculptures on the Wall . . . 58

The Sculptures on the Pavement. — Ascent to the Second Circle . . .7 1

The Second Circle. — The Envious. — Sapia of S i e n a ...................................77

Guido del Duca and Renier da C a l b o l i .............................................................84

The Third Circle. — The I r a s c i b l e ......................................................................91

Dante’s Dream of Anger. — The Fourth Circle. — The Slothful . . . 1 05

Virgil’s Discourse of Love. — The Abbot of San Z e n o ...................................111

Hugh Capet. — The E a r t h q u a k e ......................................................................125

The Poet S t a t i u s .............................................................................. ........ 132

The Sixth Circle. — The Gluttonous. — The Mystic Tree . . . .138

Buonagiunta da Lucca. — Pope Martin IV., and o t h e r s ...................................151

Discourse of Statius on Generation. — The Seventh Circle. — The Wanton . 158

Guido Guinicelli and Arnaldo D a n i e l l o .............................................................164

The Terrestrial Paradise. — The River Lethe. — Matilda . . . .178

The Triumph of the Church .............................................................................. 185

Reproaches of Beatrice and Confession of Dante. — The Passage of Lethe . 199

The Tree of K n o w l e d g e .......................................................................................... 206

The River E u n o e ................................................................................................... 213

I O f the long aisles, O poet saturnine !

' J ' O run o’er better waters hoists its sail

^ J L R E A D Y had the sun the horizon reached

Upon the stern stood the Celestial P ilo t ;

“ In exitu Israel de /Egypt0! ”

T h e y chanted all together in one voice,

J N A S M U C H as the instantaneous flight

W h ich the one Substance in three Persons fo llo w s!

T h e y stopped, and backward drew themselves som ew hat;

W hereb y the sunshine on the ground is cleft.

T h irty times told the tim e that he has been

" y ^ H E N E V E R by delight or else by pain,

N o more I answer; and this I know for true.”

J H A D already from those shades departed,

W h at could I say in answer but “ I co m e” ?

T h ere where I thought to be the most secure;

Above the H erm itage in Apennine.

’Y ^ H E N E ’E R is broken up the game o f Zara,

A h ! servile Italy, g rie f’s hostelry !

N o w be thou joyful, for thou hast good reason ;

F T E R the gracious and glad salutations

“ T hitherw ard ,” said that shade, “ w ill w e repair,

So that through others slowly she revives.

A nd i f as K in g had after him remained

T W A S now the hour that turneth back desire

And pointed with his finger to look thither.

Before that such a courteous opinion

concubine o f old Tithonus now

O nly my Comforter was at my side, ^

“ And may she speed your footsteps in all good,”

A t the first thunder-peal I turned attentive,

WHEN we had crossed the threshold o f the door

T o examine near at hand another story,

*T is o f the Emperor Trajan I am speaking;

“ O ur Father, thou who dwellest in the heavens,

N ot for ourselves is made, who need it not,

^/^BREAST, like oxen going in a yoke,

0 Rehoboam ! no more seems to threaten