The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (essential books to read TXT) 📕

Here, reader! for the truth makes thine eyes keen: For of so subtle texture is this veil, That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark’d.

I saw that gentle band silently next Look up, as if in expectation held, Pale and in lowly guise; and from on high I saw forth issuing descend beneath Two angels with two flame-illumin’d swords, Broken and mutilated at their points.

Green as the tender leaves but newly born, Their vesture was, the which by wings as green Beaten, they drew behind them, fann’d in air.

A little over us one took his stand, The other lighted on the’ Opposing hill, So that the troop were in the midst contain’d.

Well I descried the whiteness on their heads; But in their visages the dazzled eye Was lost, as faculty that by too much Is overpower’d. “From Mary’s bosom both Are come,” exclaim’d Sordello, “as a guard Over the vale, ganst him, who hither tends, The serpent.” Whence, not knowing by which path He came, I turn’d me round, and closely press’d, All frozen, to my leader’s trusted side.

Sordello paus’d not: “To the valley now (For it is time) let us descend; and hold Converse with those great shadows: haply much Their sight may please ye.” Only three steps down Methinks I measur’d, ere I was beneath, And noted one who look’d as with desire To know me. Time was now that air arrow dim; Yet not so dim, that ‘twixt his eyes and mine It clear’d not up what was conceal’d before.

Mutually tow’rds each other we advanc’d.

Nino, thou courteous judge! what joy I felt, When I perceiv’d thou wert not with the bad!

No salutation kind on either part Was left unsaid. He then inquir’d: “How long Since thou arrived’st at the mountain’s foot, Over the distant waves?” —“O!” answer’d I, “Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came, And still in my first life, thus journeying on, The other strive to gain.” Soon as they heard My words, he and Sordello backward drew, As suddenly amaz’d. To Virgil one, The other to a spirit turn’d, who near Was seated, crying: “Conrad! up with speed: Come, see what of his grace high God hath will’d.”

Then turning round to me: “By that rare mark Of honour which thou ow’st to him, who hides So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford, When thou shalt he beyond the vast of waves.

Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call There, where reply to innocence is made.

Her mother, I believe, loves me no more; Since she has chang’d the white and wimpled folds, Which she is doom’d once more with grief to wish.

By her it easily may be perceiv’d, How long in women lasts the flame of love, If sight and touch do not relume it oft.

For her so fair a burial will not make The viper which calls Milan to the field, As had been made by shrill Gallura’s bird.”

He spoke, and in his visage took the stamp Of that right seal, which with due temperature Glows in the bosom. My insatiate eyes Meanwhile to heav’n had travel’d, even there Where the bright stars are slowest, as a wheel Nearest the axle; when my guide inquir’d: “What there aloft, my son, has caught thy gaze?”

I answer’d: “The three torches, with which here The pole is all on fire. “He then to me: “The four resplendent stars, thou saw’st this morn Are there beneath, and these ris’n in their stead.”

While yet he spoke. Sordello to himself Drew him, and cry’d: “Lo there our enemy!”

And with his hand pointed that way to look.

Along the side, where barrier none arose Around the little vale, a serpent lay, Such haply as gave Eve the bitter food.

Between the grass and flowers, the evil snake Came on, reverting oft his lifted head; And, as a beast that smoothes its polish’d coat, Licking his hack. I saw not, nor can tell, How those celestial falcons from their seat Mov’d, but in motion each one well descried, Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes.

The serpent fled; and to their stations back The angels up return’d with equal flight.

The Spirit (who to Nino, when he call’d, Had come), from viewing me with fixed ken, Through all that conflict, loosen’d not his sight.

“So may the lamp, which leads thee up on high, Find, in thy destin’d lot, of wax so much, As may suffice thee to the enamel’s height.”

It thus began: “If any certain news Of Valdimagra and the neighbour part Thou know’st, tell me, who once was mighty there They call’d me Conrad Malaspina, not That old one, but from him I sprang. The love I bore my people is now here refin’d.”

“In your dominions,” I answer’d, “ne’er was I.

But through all Europe where do those men dwell, To whom their glory is not manifest?

The fame, that honours your illustrious house, Proclaims the nobles and proclaims the land; So that he knows it who was never there.

I swear to you, so may my upward route Prosper! your honour’d nation not impairs The value of her coffer and her sword.

Nature and use give her such privilege, That while the world is twisted from his course By a bad head, she only walks aright, And has the evil way in scorn.” He then: “Now pass thee on: sev’n times the tired sun Revisits not the couch, which with four feet The forked Aries covers, ere that kind Opinion shall be nail’d into thy brain With stronger nails than other’s speech can drive, If the sure course of judgment be not stay’d.”

CANTO IX

Now the fair consort of Tithonus old, Arisen from her mate’s beloved arms, Look’d palely o’er the eastern cliff: her brow, Lucent with jewels, glitter’d, set in sign Of that chill animal, who with his train Smites fearful nations: and where then we were, Two steps of her ascent the night had past, And now the third was closing up its wing, When I, who had so much of Adam with me, Sank down upon the grass, o’ercome with sleep, There where all five were seated. In that hour, When near the dawn the swallow her sad lay, Rememb’ring haply ancient grief, renews, And with our minds more wand’rers from the flesh, And less by thought restrain’d are, as ‘t were, full Of holy divination in their dreams, Then in a vision did I seem to view A golden-feather’d eagle in the sky, With open wings, and hov’ring for descent, And I was in that place, methought, from whence Young Ganymede, from his associates ‘reft, Was snatch’d aloft to the high consistory.

“Perhaps,” thought I within me, “here alone He strikes his quarry, and elsewhere disdains To pounce upon the prey.” Therewith, it seem’d, A little wheeling in his airy tour Terrible as the lightning rush’d he down, And snatch’d me upward even to the fire.

There both, I thought, the eagle and myself Did burn; and so intense th’ imagin’d flames, That needs my sleep was broken off. As erst Achilles shook himself, and round him roll’d His waken’d eyeballs wond’ring where he was, Whenas his mother had from Chiron fled To Scyros, with him sleeping in her arms; E’en thus I shook me, soon as from my face The slumber parted, turning deadly pale, Like one ice-struck with dread. Solo at my side My comfort stood: and the bright sun was now More than two hours aloft: and to the sea My looks were turn’d. “Fear not,” my master cried, “Assur’d we are at happy point. Thy strength Shrink not, but rise dilated. Thou art come To Purgatory now. Lo! there the cliff That circling bounds it! Lo! the entrance there, Where it doth seem disparted! Ere the dawn Usher’d the daylight, when thy wearied soul Slept in thee, o’er the flowery vale beneath A lady came, and thus bespake me: “I Am Lucia. Suffer me to take this man, Who slumbers. Easier so his way shall speed.”

Sordello and the other gentle shapes Tarrying, she bare thee up: and, as day shone, This summit reach’d: and I pursued her steps.

Here did she place thee. First her lovely eyes That open entrance show’d me; then at once She vanish’d with thy sleep.” Like one, whose doubts Are chas’d by certainty, and terror turn’d To comfort on discovery of the truth, Such was the change in me: and as my guide Beheld me fearless, up along the cliff He mov’d, and I behind him, towards the height.

Reader! thou markest how my theme doth rise, Nor wonder therefore, if more artfully I prop the structure! Nearer now we drew, Arriv’d’ whence in that part, where first a breach As of a wall appear’d, I could descry A portal, and three steps beneath, that led For inlet there, of different colour each, And one who watch’d, but spake not yet a word.

As more and more mine eye did stretch its view, I mark’d him seated on the highest step, In visage such, as past my power to bear.

Grasp’d in his hand a naked sword, glanc’d back The rays so toward me, that I oft in vain My sight directed. “Speak from whence ye stand:”

He cried: “What would ye? Where is your escort?

Take heed your coming upward harm ye not.”

“A heavenly dame, not skilless of these things,”

Replied the’ instructor, “told us, even now, ‘Pass that way: here the gate is.” —“And may she Befriending prosper your ascent,” resum’d The courteous keeper of the gate: “Come then Before our steps.” We straightway thither came.

The lowest stair was marble white so smooth And polish’d, that therein my mirror’d form Distinct I saw. The next of hue more dark Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block, Crack’d lengthwise and across. The third, that lay Massy above, seem’d porphyry, that flam’d Red as the life-blood spouting from a vein.

On this God’s angel either foot sustain’d, Upon the threshold seated, which appear’d A rock of diamond. Up the trinal steps My leader cheerily drew me. “Ask,” said he, “With humble heart, that he unbar the bolt.”

Piously at his holy feet devolv’d I cast me, praying him for pity’s sake That he would open to me: but first fell Thrice on my bosom prostrate. Seven times0

The letter, that denotes the inward stain, He on my forehead with the blunted point Of his drawn sword inscrib’d. And “Look,” he cried, “When enter’d, that thou wash these scars away.”

Ashes, or earth ta’en dry out of the ground, Were of one colour with the robe he wore.

From underneath that vestment forth he drew Two keys of metal twain: the one was gold, Its fellow silver. With the pallid first, And next the burnish’d, he so ply’d the gate, As to content me well. “Whenever one Faileth of these, that in the keyhole straight It turn not, to this alley then expect Access in vain.” Such were the words he spake.

“One is more precious: but the other needs Skill and sagacity, large share of each, Ere its good task to disengage the knot Be worthily perform’d. From Peter these I hold, of him instructed, that I err Rather in opening than in keeping fast; So but the suppliant at my feet implore.”

Then of that hallow’d gate he thrust the door, Exclaiming, “Enter, but this warning hear: He forth again departs who looks behind.”

As in the hinges of that sacred ward The swivels turn’d, sonorous metal strong, Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily Roar’d the Tarpeian, when by force bereft Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss To leanness doom’d. Attentively I turn’d, List’ning the thunder, that first issued