(4) A poet was I, and I sang that just Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy, After that Ilion the superb was burned. But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance? Why climb'st thou not the Mount Delectable, Which is the source and cause of every joy?" "Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?" I made response to him with bashful forehead. "O, of the other poets honour and light, Avail me the long study and great love That have impelled me to explore thy volume! Thou art my master, and my author thou, Thou art alone the one from whom I took The beautiful style that has done honour to me. Behold the beast, for which I have turned back; Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage, For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble." "Thee it behoves to take another road," Responded he, when he beheld me weeping, "If from this savage place thou wouldst escape; Because this beast, at which thou criest out, Suffers not any one to pass her way, But so doth harass him, that she destroys him;

(4) "O thou who honourest every art and science, Who may these be, which such great honour have, That from the fashion of the rest it parts them?" And he to me: "The honourable name, That sounds of them above there in thy life, Wins grace in Heaven, that so advances them." In the mean time a voice was heard by me: "All honour be to the pre-eminent Poet; His shade returns again, that was departed." After the voice had ceased and quiet was, Four mighty shades I saw approaching us; Semblance had they nor sorrowful nor glad. To say to me began my gracious Master: "Him with that falchion in his hand behold, Who comes before the three, even as their lord. That one is Homer, Poet sovereign; He who comes next is Horace, the satirist; The third is Ovid, and the last is Lucan. Because to each of these with me applies The name that solitary voice proclaimed, They do me honour, and in that do well." Thus I beheld assemble the fair school Of that lord of the song pre-eminent, Who o'er the others like an eagle soars.

(3) But say if him I here behold, who forth Evoked the new-invented rhymes, beginning, 'Ladies, that have intelligence of love?'" And I to him: "One am I, who, whenever Love doth inspire me, note, and in that measure Which he within me dictates, singing go." "O brother, now I see," he said, "the knot Which me, the Notary, and Guittone held Short of the sweet new style that now I hear. I do perceive full clearly how your pens Go closely following after him who dictates, Which with our own forsooth came not to pass; And he who sets himself to go beyond, No 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, 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 of his chest;

(6) Whence I: "Thou peradventure marvellest, O antique spirit, at the smile I gave; But I will have more wonder seize upon thee. This one, who guides on high these eyes of mine, Is that Virgilius, from whom thou didst learn To sing aloud of men and of the Gods. If other cause thou to my smile imputedst, Abandon it as false, and trust it was Those words which thou hast spoken concerning him." Already he was stooping to embrace My Teacher's feet; but he said to him: "Brother, Do not; for shade thou art, and shade beholdest." And he uprising: "Now canst thou the sum Of love which warms me to thee comprehend, When this our vanity I disremember, Treating a shadow as substantial thing."

(7) "I am Aglaurus, who became a stone!" And then, to press myself close to the Poet, I backward, and not forward, took a step. Already on all sides the air was quiet; 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 Of the old Adversary draws you to him, And hence availeth little curb or call. The heavens are calling you, and wheel around you, Displaying to you their eternal beauties, And still your eye is looking on the ground; Whence He, who all discerns, chastises you."

(1) It was the hour when the diurnal heat No more can warm the coldness of the moon, Vanquished by earth, or peradventure Saturn, When 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, With hands dissevered and of sallow hue. I looked at her; and as the sun restores The frigid members which the night benumbs, Even thus my gaze did render voluble Her tongue, and made her all erect thereafter In little while, and the lost countenance As love desires it so in her did colour. When 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. "I am," she sang, "I am the Siren sweet Who mariners amid the main unman, So full am I of pleasantness to hear. I drew Ulysses from his wandering way Unto my song, and he who dwells with me Seldom departs so wholly I content him."

(1) In reference to these commentaries, which contain as the exigencies of the case demand, the Hellenic opinions, I say thus much to those who are fond of finding fault. First, even if philosophy were useless, if the demonstration of its uselessness does good, it is yet useful. Then those cannot condemn the Greeks, who have only a mere hearsay knowledge of their opinions, and have not entered into a minute investigation in each department, in order to acquaintance with them. For the refutation, which is based on experience, is entirely trustworthy. For the knowledge of what is condemned is found the most complete demonstration. Many things, then, though not contributing to the final result, equip the artist. And otherwise erudition commends him, who sets forth the most essential doctrines so as to produce persuasion in his hearers, engendering admiration in those who are taught, and leads them to the truth. And such persuasion is convincing, by which those that love learning admit the truth; so that philosophy does not ruin life by being the originator of false practices and base deeds, although some have calumniated it, though it be the clear image of truth, a divine gift to the Greeks; nor does it drag us away from the faith, as if we were bewitched by some delusive art, but rather, so to speak, by the use of an ampler circuit, obtains a common exercise demonstrative of the faith.

(4) Leave me to speak, because I have conceived That which thou wishest; for they might disdain Perchance, since they were Greeks, discourse of thine." When now the flame had come unto that point, Where to my Leader it seemed time and place, After this fashion did I hear him speak: "O ye, who are twofold within one fire, If I deserved of you, while I was living, If I deserved of you or much or little When in the world I wrote the lofty verses, Do not move on, but one of you declare Whither, being lost, he went away to die." Then of the antique flame the greater horn, Murmuring, began to wave itself about Even as a flame doth which the wind fatigues. Thereafterward, the summit to and fro Moving as if it were the tongue that spake, It uttered forth a voice, and said: "When I From Circe had departed, who concealed me More than a year there near unto Gaeta, Or ever yet Aeneas named it so, Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence For my old father, nor the due affection Which joyous should have made Penelope,

(1) It will follow, I think, that I should treat of martyrdom, and of who the perfect man is. With these points shall be included what follows in accordance with the demands of the points to be spoken about, and how both bond and free must equally philosophize, whether male or female in sex. And in the sequel, after finishing what is to be said on faith and inquiry, we shall set forth the department of symbols; so that, on cursorily concluding the discourse on ethics, we shall exhibit the advantage which has accrued to the Greeks from the barbarian philosophy. After which sketch, the brief explanation of the Scriptures both against the Greeks and against the Jews will be presented, and whatever points we were unable to embrace in the previous Miscellanies (through having respect necessarily to the multitude of matters), in accordance with the commencement of the poem, purposing to finish them in one commentary. In addition to these points, afterwards on completing the sketch, as far as we can in accordance with what we propose, we must give an account of the physical doctrines of the Greeks and of the barbarians, respecting elementary principles, as far as their opinions have reached us, and argue against the principal views excogitated by the philosophers.

(3) I was as one who still retains the feeling Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours In vain to bring it back into his mind, When I this invitation heard, deserving Of so much gratitude, it never fades Out of the book that chronicles the past. If at this moment sounded all the tongues That Polyhymnia and her sisters made Most lubrical with their delicious milk, To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth It would not reach, singing the holy smile And how the holy aspect it illumed. And therefore, representing Paradise, The sacred poem must perforce leap over, Even as a man who finds his way cut off; But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme, And of the mortal shoulder laden with it, Should blame it not, if under this it tremble. It is no passage for a little boat This which goes cleaving the audacious prow, Nor for a pilot who would spare himself. "Why doth my face so much enamour thee, That to the garden fair thou turnest not, Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming?

(3) 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 of the beauteous river, To lift her eyes she granted me the boon. I do not think there shone so great a light Under the lids of Venus, when transfixed By her own son, beyond his usual custom! Erect upon the other bank she smiled, Bearing full many colours in her hands, Which that high land produces without seed. Apart three paces did the river make us; But Hellespont, where Xerxes passed across, (A curb still to all human arrogance,)

(110) "O warlike Trojans," says the lyric poet, - "High ruling Zeus, who beholds all things, Is not the cause of great woes to mortals; But it is in the power of all men to find Justice, holy, pure, Companion of order, And of wise Themis The sons of the blessed are ye In finding her as your associate."

(5) Youthful and beautiful in dreams methought I saw a lady walking in a meadow, Gathering flowers; and singing she was saying: "Know whosoever may my name demand That I am Leah, and go moving round My beauteous hands to make myself a garland. To please me at the mirror, here I deck me, But never does my sister Rachel leave Her looking-glass, and sitteth all day long. To 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 splendours That unto pilgrims the more grateful rise, As, home-returning, less remote they lodge, The darkness fled away on every side, And slumber with it; whereupon I rose, Seeing already the great Masters risen. "That apple sweet, which through so many branches The care of mortals goeth in pursuit of, To-day shall put in peace thy hungerings." Speaking to me, Virgilius of such words As these made use; and never were there guerdons That could in pleasantness compare with these.

(6) And she to me: "There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery, and that thy Teacher knows. But, if to recognise the earliest root Of love in us thou hast so great desire, I will do even as he who weeps and speaks. One day we reading were for our delight Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthral. Alone we were and without any fear. Full many a time our eyes together drew That reading, and drove the colour from our faces; But one point only was it that o'ercame us. When as we read of the much-longed-for smile Being by such a noble lover kissed, This one, who ne'er from me shall be divided, Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating. Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it. That day no farther did we read therein." And all the while one spirit uttered this, The other one did weep so, that, for pity, I swooned away as if I had been dying, And fell, even as a dead body falls.

(7) Even so, when she had taken hold of me, The 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 Of the sweet draught that ne'er would satiate me; But inasmuch as full are all the leaves Made ready for this second canticle, The curb of art no farther lets me go. From the most holy water I returned Regenerate, in the manner of new trees That are renewed with a new foliage, Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.

(5) Sitteth the city, wherein I was born, Upon the sea-shore where the Po descends To rest in peace with all his retinue. Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize, Seized this man for the person beautiful That was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me. Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me; Love has conducted us unto one death; Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!" These words were borne along from them to us. As soon as I had heard those souls tormented, I bowed my face, and so long held it down Until the Poet said to me: "What thinkest?" When I made answer, I began: "Alas! How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire, Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!" Then unto them I turned me, and I spake, And I began: "Thine agonies, Francesca, Sad and compassionate to weeping make me. But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, By what and in what manner Love conceded, That you should know your dubious desires?"

(1) To run o'er better waters hoists its sail The little vessel of my genius now, That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel; And of that second kingdom will I sing Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy. But let dead Poesy here rise again, O holy Muses, since that I am yours, And here Calliope somewhat ascend, My song accompanying with that sound, Of which the miserable magpies felt The blow so great, that they despaired of pardon. Sweet colour of the oriental sapphire, That was upgathered in the cloudless aspect Of the pure air, as far as the first circle, Unto mine eyes did recommence delight Soon as I issued forth from the dead air, Which had with sadness filled mine eyes and breast. The beauteous planet, that to love incites, Was making all the orient to laugh, Veiling the Fishes that were in her escort. To the right hand I turned, and fixed my mind Upon the other pole, and saw four stars Ne'er seen before save by the primal people.

(2) And the sun's face, uprising, overshadowed So that by tempering influence of vapours For a long interval the eye sustained it; Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers Which from those hands angelical ascended, And downward fell again inside and out, Over her snow-white veil with olive cinct Appeared a lady under a green mantle, Vested in colour of the living flame. And my own spirit, that already now So long a time had been, that in her presence Trembling with awe it had not stood abashed, Without more knowledge having by mine eyes, Through occult virtue that from her proceeded Of ancient love the mighty 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, To the left hand I turned with that reliance With which the little child runs to his mother, When he has fear, or when he is afflicted, To say unto Virgilius: "Not a drachm Of blood remains in me, that does not tremble; I know the traces of the ancient flame."

(10) He like the blessed Gods his friends rever’d,

But reckon’d others men of no account.

Homer, too, especially deserves to be praised for calling a king the shepherd of the people . For being a friend to that government in which the rulers are few, he evinced by this epithet that the rest of men are cattle. To beans it is requisite to be hostile, as being the leaders of decision by lot; for by these men were allotted the administration of affairs. Again, empire should be the object of desire: for they proclaim that it is better to be one day a bull, than to be an ox for ever. That the legal institutes of others are laudable; but that they should be exhorted to use those which are known to themselves. In one word, Ninon showed that their philosophy was a conspiracy against the multitude, and therefore exhorted them not to hear the counsellors, but to consider that they would never have been admitted into the assembly, if the council of the Pythagoreans had been approved by the session of a thousand men; so that it was not fit to suffer those to speak, who prevented to the utmost of their power others from being heard. He observed, therefore, that they should consider the right hand which was rejected by the Pythagoreans, as hostile to them, when they gave their suffrages by an extension of the hands, or calculated the number of the votes. That they should also consider it to be a disgraceful circumstance, that they who conquered thirty myriads of men at the river Tracis, should be vanquished by a thousandth part of the same number through sedition in the city itself. In short Ninon so exasperated his hearers by his calumnies, that in a few days after, a great multitude assembled together intending to attack the Pythagoreans as they were sacrificing to the Muses in a house near to the temple of Apollo. The Pythagoreans, however, foreseeing that this would take place, fled to an inn; but Democedes, with those that had arrived at puberty, withdrew to Platea. And those that had dissolved the laws made a decree in which they accused Democedes of compelling the younger part of the community to the possession of empire, and proclaimed by a cryer that thirty talents should be given to any one who destroyed him. An engagement also taking place, and Theages having vanquished Democedes in that contest, they distributed to him the thirty talents which the city had promised. But as the city, and the whole region were involved in many evils, the exiles were brought to judgment, and the power of decision being given to three cities, viz. to the Tarentines, Metapontines, and the Caulonians, those that were sent by them to determine the cause were corrupted by money, as we learn from the chronicles of the Crotonians. Hence the Crotonians condemned by their own decision those that were accused, to exile. In consequence, too, of this decision, and the authority which it conferred on them, they expelled all those from the city, who were dissatisfied with the existing state of affairs, and at the same time banished all their families, asserting that it was not fit to be impious, and that children ought not to be divulsed from their parents. They likewise abolished loans, and made the land to be undivided.

(1) Whence most beautifully the Egyptian priest in Plato said, "O Solon, Solon, you Greeks are always children, not having in your souls a single ancient opinion received through tradition from antiquity. And not one of the Greeks is an old man;" meaning by old, I suppose, those who know what belongs to the more remote antiquity, that is, our literature; and by young, those who treat of what is more recent and made the subject of study by the Greeks, - things of yesterday and of recent date as if they were old and ancient. Wherefore he added, "and no study hoary with time;" for we, in a kind of barbarous way, deal in homely and rugged metaphor. Those, therefore, whose minds are rightly constituted approach the interpretation utterly destitute of artifice. And of the Greeks, he says that their opinions" differ but little from myths." For neither puerile fables nor stories current among children are fit for listening to. And he called the myths themselves "children," as if the progeny of those, wise in their own conceits among the Greeks, who had but little insight meaning by the "hoary studies" the truth which was possessed by the barbarians, dating from the highest antiquity. To which expression he opposed the phrase "child fable," censuring the mythical character of the attempts of the moderns, as, like children, having nothing of age in them, and affirming both in common -their fables and their speeches - to be puerile.