The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (essential books to read TXT) đ
Restore her, thence by envy first let loose.
I for thy profit pond'ring now devise,
That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide
Will lead thee hence through an eternal space,
Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see
Spirits of old tormented, who invoke
A second death; and those next view, who dwell
Content in fire, for that they hope to come,
Whene'er the time may be, among the blest,
Into whose regions if thou then desire
T' ascend, a spirit worthier then I
Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart,
Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King,
Who reigns above, a rebel to his law,
Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed,
That to his city none through me should come.
He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds
His citadel and throne. O happy those,
Whom there he chooses!" I to him in few:
"Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore,
I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse
I may escap
Read free book «The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (essential books to read TXT) đ» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Dante Alighieri
- Performer: -
Read book online «The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (essential books to read TXT) đ». Author - Dante Alighieri
For thou, who figurâst them in shapes, as clear, As Jesus stood before thee, well canâst speak them.â
âLift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust: For that, which hither from the mortal world Arriveth, must be ripenâd in our beam.â
Such cheering accents from the second flame Assurâd me; and mine eyes I lifted up Unto the mountains that had bowâd them late With over-heavy burden. âSith our Liege Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death, In the most secret council, with his lords Shouldst be confronted, so that having viewâd The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare, What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee, And whence thou hadst it?â Thus proceeding still, The second light: and she, whose gentle love My soaring pennons in that lofty flight Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoinâd: Among her sons, not one more full of hope, Hath the church militant: so ât is of him Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term Of warfare, hence permitted he is come, From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see.
The other points, both which thou hast inquirâd, Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease, And without boasting, so God give him grace.â
Like to the scholar, practisâd in his task, Who, willing to give proof of diligence, Seconds his teacher gladly, âHope,â said I, âIs of the joy to come a sure expectance, Thâ effect of grace divine and merit preceding.
This light from many a star visits my heart, But flowâd to me the first from him, who sang The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme Among his tuneful brethren. âLet all hope In thee,â so speak his anthem, âwho have known Thy name;â and with my faith who know not that?
From thee, the next, distilling from his spring, In thine epistle, fell on me the drops So plenteously, that I on others shower The influence of their dew.â Whileas I spake, A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning, Within the bosom of that mighty sheen, Playâd tremulous; then forth these accents breathâd: âLove for the virtue which attended me Eâen to the palm, and issuing from the field, Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires To ask of thee, whom also it delights; What promise thou from hope in chief dost win.â
âBoth scriptures, new and ancient,â I replyâd; âPropose the mark (which even now I view) For souls belovâd of God. Isaias saith, That, in their own land, each one must be clad In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life.
In terms more full,
And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth This revelation to us, where he tells Of the white raiment destinâd to the saints.â
And, as the words were ending, from above, âThey hope in thee,â first heard we cried: whereto Answerâd the carols all. Amidst them next, A light of so clear amplitude emergâd, That winterâs month were but a single day, Were such a crystal in the Cancerâs sign.
Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes, And enters on the mazes of the dance, Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent, Than to do fitting honour to the bride; So I beheld the new effulgence come Unto the other two, who in a ring
Wheelâd, as became their rapture. In the dance And in the song it mingled. And the dame Held on them fixâd her looks: eâen as the spouse Silent and moveless. âThis is he, who lay Upon the bosom of our pelican:
This he, into whose keeping from the cross The mighty charge was given.â Thus she spake, Yet therefore naught the more removâd her Sight From marking them, or ere her words began, Or when they closâd. As he, who looks intent, And strives with searching ken, how he may see The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I Peerâd on that last resplendence, while I heard: âWhy dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that, Which here abides not? Earth my body is, In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long, As till our number equal the decree Of the Most High. The two that have ascended, In this our blessed cloister, shine alone With the two garments. So report below.â
As when, for ease of labour, or to shun Suspected peril at a whistleâs breath, The oars, erewhile dashâd frequent in the wave, All rest; the flamy circle at that voice So rested, and the mingling sound was still, Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose.
I turnâd, but ah! how trembled in my thought, When, looking at my side again to see Beatrice, I descried her not, although Not distant, on the happy coast she stood.
CANTO XXVI
With dazzled eyes, whilst wondâring I remainâd, Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me, Issued a breath, that in attention mute Detainâd me; and these words it spake: ââT were well, That, long as till thy vision, on my form Oâerspent, regain its virtue, with discourse Thou compensate the brief delay. Say then, Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires: And meanwhile rest assurâd, that sight in thee Is but oâerpowered a space, not wholly quenchâd: Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt In Ananiasâ hand.â I answering thus: âBe to mine eyes the remedy or late Or early, at her pleasure; for they were The gates, at which she enterâd, and did light Her never dying fire. My wishes here Are centered; in this palace is the weal, That Alpha and Omega, is to all
The lessons love can read me.â Yet again The voice which had dispersâd my fear, when dazâd With that excess, to converse urgâd, and spake: âBehooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms, And say, who levelâd at this scope thy bow.â
âPhilosophy,â said I, âhath arguments, And this place hath authority enough âTâ imprint in me such love: for, of constraint, Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good, Kindles our love, and in degree the more, As it comprises more of goodness in ât.
The essence then, where such advantage is, That each good, found without it, is naught else But of his light the beam, must needs attract The soul of each one, loving, who the truth Discerns, on which this proof is built. Such truth Learn I from him, who shows me the first love Of all intelligential substances
Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith, âI will make all my good before thee pass.â
Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaimâst, Eâen at the outset of thy heralding, In mortal ears the mystery of heavân.â
âThrough human wisdom, and thâ authority Therewith agreeing,â heard I answerâd, âkeep The choicest of thy love for God. But say, If thou yet other cords within thee feelâst That draw thee towards him; so that thou report How many are the fangs, with which this love Is grappled to thy soul.â I did not miss, To what intent the eagle of our Lord Had pointed his demand; yea noted well Thâ avowal, which he led to; and resumâd: âAll grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God, Confederate to make fast our clarity.
The being of the world, and mine own being, The death which he endurâd that I should live, And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do, To the forementionâd lively knowledge joinâd, Have from the sea of ill love savâd my bark, And on the coast securâd it of the right.
As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom, My love for them is great, as is the good Dealt by thâ eternal hand, that tends them all.â
I ended, and therewith a song most sweet Rang through the spheres; and âHoly, holy, holy,â
Accordant with the rest my lady sang.
And as a sleep is broken and dispersâd Through sharp encounter of the nimble light, With the eyeâs spirit running forth to meet The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urgâd; And the upstartled wight loathes that be sees; So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems Of all around him, till assurance waits On better judgment: thus the saintly came Drove from before mine eyes the motes away, With the resplendence of her own, that cast Their brightness downward, thousand miles below.
Whence I my vision, clearer shall before, Recoverâd; and, well nigh astounded, askâd Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw.
And Beatrice: âThe first diving soul, That ever the first virtue framâd, admires Within these rays his Maker.â Like the leaf, That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown; By its own virtue rearâd then stands aloof; So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bowâd.
Then eagerness to speak emboldenâd me; And I began: âO fruit! that wast alone Mature, when first engenderâd! Ancient father!
That doubly seest in every wedded bride Thy daughter by affinity and blood!
Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I, More speedily to hear thee, tell it not â
It chanceth oft some animal bewrays, Through the sleek covâring of his furry coat.
The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms His outside seeming to the cheer within: And in like guise was Adamâs spirit movâd To joyous mood, that through the covering shone, Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake: âNo need thy will be told, which I untold Better discern, than thou whatever thing Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see In Him, who is truthâs mirror, and Himself Parhelion unto all things, and naught else To him. This wouldst thou hear; how long since God Placâd me high garden, from whose hounds She led me up in this ladder, steep and long; What space endurâd my season of delight; Whence truly sprang the wrath that banishâd me; And what the language, which I spake and framâd Not that I tasted of the tree, my son, Was in itself the cause of that exile, But only my transgressing of the mark Assignâd me. There, whence at thy ladyâs hest The Mantuan movâd him, still was I debarrâd This council, till the sun had made complete, Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice, His annual journey; and, through every light In his broad pathway, saw I him return, Thousand save sevânty times, the whilst I dwelt Upon the earth. The language I did use Was worn away, or ever Nimrodâs race Their unaccomplishable work began.
For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting, Left by his reason free, and variable, As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks, Is natureâs prompting: whether thus or thus, She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.
Ere I descended into hellâs abyss, El was the name on earth of the Chief Good, Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then ât was callâd And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use Is as the leaf upon the bough; that goes, And other comes instead. Upon the mount Most high above the waters, all my life, Both innocent and guilty, did but reach From the first hour, to that which cometh next (As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth.
CANTO XXVII
Then âGlory to the Father, to the Son, And to the Holy Spirit,â rang aloud Throughout all Paradise, that with the song My spirit reelâd, so
Comments (0)