(208) For the visible body must perforce perish, Though he incurred chastisement, it affected his body only, And as a friend he now goes, free of pain, to his Friend. Thus at first he clung to the King's stirrup, Part of the story remains untold; it was retained The story of the princes remains unfinished, Here speech, like a camel, breaks down on its road; I will say no more, but guard my tongue from speech. The rest is told without aid of tongue

(2) Then reigned 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, Who was in word and action so entire. And even as this image burst asunder Of its own self, in fashion of a bubble In which the water it was made of fails, There rose up in my vision a young maiden Bitterly weeping, and she said: "O queen, Why hast thou wished in anger to be naught? Thou'st slain thyself, Lavinia not to lose; Now hast thou lost me; I am she who mourns, Mother, at thine ere at another's ruin." As sleep is broken, when upon a sudden New light strikes in upon the eyelids closed, And broken quivers ere it dieth wholly, So this imagining of 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, When said a voice, "Here is the passage up;" Which from all other purposes removed me,

(6) "O," said I to him, "now art thou, too, dead?" And he to me: "How may my body fare Up in the world, no knowledge I possess. Such an advantage has this Ptolomaea, That oftentimes the soul descendeth here Sooner than Atropos in motion sets it. And, that thou mayest more willingly remove From off my countenance these glassy tears, Know that as soon as any soul betrays As I have done, his body by a demon Is taken from him, who thereafter rules it, Until his time has wholly been revolved. Itself down rushes into such a cistern; And still perchance above appears the body Of yonder shade, that winters here behind me. This thou shouldst know, if thou hast just come down; It is Ser Branca d' Oria, and many years Have passed away since he was thus locked up." "I think," said I to him, "thou dost deceive me; For Branca d' Oria is not dead as yet, And eats, and drinks, and sleeps, and puts on clothes." "In moat above," said he, "of Malebranche, There where is boiling the tenacious pitch, As yet had Michel Zanche not arrived,

(1) The concubine of old Tithonus now Gleamed white upon the eastern balcony, Forth from the arms of her sweet paramour; With gems her forehead all relucent was, Set in the shape of that cold animal Which with its tail doth smite amain the nations, And of the steps, with which she mounts, the Night Had taken two in that place where we were, And now the third was bending down its wings; When I, who something had of Adam in me, Vanquished by sleep, upon the grass reclined, There were all five of us already sat. Just at the hour when her sad lay begins The little swallow, near unto the morning, Perchance in memory of her former woes, And when the mind of man, a wanderer More from the flesh, and less by thought imprisoned, Almost prophetic in its visions is, In dreams it seemed to me I saw suspended An eagle in the sky, with plumes of gold, With wings wide open, and intent to stoop, And this, it seemed to me, was where had been By Ganymede his kith and kin abandoned, When to the high consistory he was rapt.

(2) I did not die, and I alive remained not; Think for thyself now, hast thou aught of wit, What I became, being of both deprived. The Emperor of the kingdom dolorous From his mid-breast forth issued from the ice; And better with a giant I compare Than do the giants with those arms of his; Consider now how great must be that whole, Which unto such a part conforms itself. Were he as fair once, as he now is foul, And lifted up his brow against his Maker, Well may proceed from him all tribulation. O, what a marvel it appeared to me, When I beheld three faces on his head! The one in front, and that vermilion was; Two were the others, that were joined with this Above the middle part of either shoulder, And they were joined together at the crest; And the right-hand one seemed 'twixt white and yellow; The left was such to look upon as those Who come from where the Nile falls valley-ward. Underneath each came forth two mighty wings, Such as befitting were so great a bird; Sails of the sea I never saw so large.

(23) This Chapter does not properly belong to the Book of the Dead. It is part of a book engraved at the entrance of nearly all the tombs of the kings, the so-called “Litany of the Sun.” This chapter is taken from the end of the book. The various paragraphs are not always in the same order as in the monumental text. There are abridgments and many omissions, which in the translation have been filled up from the text in the tombs

(5) Upon his right breast Chiron wheeled about, And said to Nessus: "Turn and do thou guide them, And warn aside, if other band may meet you." We with our faithful escort onward moved Along the brink of the vermilion boiling, Wherein the boiled were uttering loud laments. People I saw within up to the eyebrows, And the great Centaur said: "Tyrants are these, Who dealt in bloodshed and in pillaging. Here they lament their pitiless mischiefs; here Is Alexander, and fierce Dionysius Who upon Sicily brought dolorous years. That forehead there which has the hair so black Is Azzolin; and the other who is blond, Obizzo is of Esti, who, in truth, Up in the world was by his stepson slain." Then turned I to the Poet; and he said, "Now he be first to thee, and second I." A little farther on the Centaur stopped Above a folk, who far down as the throat Seemed from that boiling stream to issue forth. A shade he showed us on one side alone, Saying: "He cleft asunder in God's bosom The heart that still upon the Thames is honoured."

(2) This Chapter is said on a buckle of carnelian dipped into the juice of ankhamu, inlaid into the substance of the sycamore-wood, and put on the neck of the deceased

(1) Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke, I with that heavy-laden soul went on, As long as the sweet pedagogue permitted; But when he said, "Leave him, and onward pass, For here 'tis good that with the sail and oars, As much as may be, each push on his barque;" Upright, as walking wills it, I redressed My person, notwithstanding that my thoughts Remained within me downcast and abashed. I had moved on, and followed willingly The footsteps of my Master, and we both Already showed how light of foot we were, When unto me he said: "Cast down thine eyes; 'Twere well for thee, to alleviate the way, To look upon the bed beneath thy feet." As, that some memory may exist of them, Above the buried dead their tombs in earth Bear sculptured on them what they were before; Whence often there we weep for them afresh, From pricking of remembrance, which alone To the compassionate doth set its spur; So saw I there, but of a better semblance In point of artifice, with figures covered Whate'er as pathway from the mount projects.

(4) There the high glory of the Roman Prince Was chronicled, whose great beneficence Moved Gregory to his great victory; 'Tis of the Emperor Trajan I am speaking; And a poor widow at his bridle stood, In attitude of weeping and of grief. Around about him seemed it thronged and full Of cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold Above them visibly in the wind were moving. The wretched woman in the midst of these Seemed to be saying: "Give me vengeance, Lord, For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking." And he to answer her: "Now wait until I shall return." And she: "My Lord," like one In whom grief is impatient, "shouldst thou not Return?" And he: "Who shall be where I am Will give it thee." And she: "Good deed of others What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own?" Whence he: "Now comfort thee, for it behoves me That I discharge my duty ere I move; Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me." He who on no new thing has ever looked Was the creator of this visible language, Novel to us, for here it is not found.

(6) After I had my body lacerated By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon. Horrible my iniquities had been; But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms, That it receives whatever turns to it. Had but Cosenza's pastor, who in chase Of me was sent by Clement at that time, In God read understandingly this page, The bones of my dead body still would be At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento, Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn. Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind, Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde, Where he transported them with tapers quenched.

(5) And as he finished uttering these words, A voice close by us sounded: "Peradventure Thou wilt have need of sitting down ere that." At sound thereof each one of us turned round, And saw upon the left hand a great rock, Which neither I nor he before had noticed. Thither we drew; and there were persons there Who in the shadow stood behind the rock, As one through indolence is wont to stand. And one of them, who seemed to me fatigued, Was sitting down, and both his knees embraced, Holding his face low down between them bowed. "O my sweet Lord," I said, "do turn thine eye On him who shows himself more negligent Then even Sloth herself his sister were." Then he turned round to us, and he gave heed, Just lifting up his eyes above his thigh, And said: "Now go thou up, for thou art valiant." Then knew I who he was; and the distress, That still a little did my breathing quicken, My going to him hindered not; 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 chariot?"

(6) I think in sooth that it my Leader pleased, With such contented lip he listened ever Unto the sound of the true words expressed. Therefore with both his arms he took me up, And when he had me all upon his breast, Remounted by the way where he descended. Nor did he tire to have me clasped to him; But bore me to the summit of the arch Which from the fourth dike to the fifth is passage. There tenderly he laid his burden down, Tenderly on the crag uneven and steep, That would have been hard passage for the goats: Thence was unveiled to me another valley.

(7) As he entered the forest surrounding his little house, it seemed to C.R.C. that all Nature had joyously prepared for the wedding. As he proceeded singing merrily, he came to a green heath in which stood three great cedars, one bearing a tablet with an inscription describing the four paths that led to the palace of the King: the first short and dangerous, the second circuitous, the third a pleasant and royal road, and the fourth suitable only for incorruptible bodies. Weary and perplexed, C.R.C. decided to rest and, cutting a slice of bread, was about to partake thereof when a white dove begged it from him. The dove was at once attacked by a raven, and in his efforts to separate the birds C.R.C. unknowingly ran a considerable distance along one of the four paths--that leading southward. A terrific wind preventing him from retracing his steps, the wedding guest resigned himself to the loss of his bread and continued along the road until he espied in the distance a great gate. The sun being low, he hastened towards the portal, upon which, among other figures, was a tablet bearing the words Procul hinc procul ite profani.

(4) "O happy dead! O spirits elect already!" Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace Which I believe is waiting for you all, Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes, So that the going up be possible, For to lose time irks him most who most knows." As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils, And what the foremost does the others do, Huddling themselves against her, if she stop, Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not; So moving to approach us thereupon I saw the leader of that fortunate flock, Modest in face and dignified in gait. As soon as those in the advance saw broken The light upon the ground at my right side, So that from me the shadow reached the rock, They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat; And all the others, who came after them, Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same. "Without your asking, I confess to you This is a human body which you see, Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.

(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,

(3) Withouten which whoso his life consumes Such vestige leaveth of himself on earth, As smoke in air or in the water foam. And therefore raise thee up, o'ercome the anguish With spirit that o'ercometh every battle, If with its heavy body it sink not. A longer stairway it behoves thee mount; 'Tis not enough from these to have departed; Let it avail thee, if thou understand me." Then I uprose, showing myself provided Better with breath than I did feel myself, And said: "Go on, for I am strong and bold." Upward we took our way along the crag, Which jagged was, and narrow, and difficult, And more precipitous far than that before. Speaking I went, not to appear exhausted; Whereat a voice from the next moat came forth, Not well adapted to articulate words. I know not what it said, though o'er the back I now was of the arch that passes there; But he seemed moved to anger who was speaking. I was bent downward, but my living eyes Could not attain the bottom, for the dark; Wherefore I: "Master, see that thou arrive

(4) The oldest papyrus containing this chapter is that of Ani, and the translation is based upon it. But the text differs both from those written on the very ancient coffins of Heru and Set-Bastit, copied by M. Maspero, [34] and from the later texts

(69) The text of the chapter grew more and more obscure to readers, and the explanations hitherto given were so unsatisfactory as to call for others. The texts of the manuscripts of the new empire furnish a good deal of fresh matter, much of which is extremely ancient, though the proof of this is unfortunately lost through the disastrous condition of literature in the period preceding the XVIIIth dynasty. The XVIIIth dynasty and its immediate successors inherited but did not invent the new form of the Book of the Dead, with its succession of vignettes, which however differing in detail bear the stamp of a common traditional teaching. The manuscripts of a later period bear witness, with reference to this as well as to other chapters, to a recension of an authoritative kind. The text becomes more certain though perhaps not either more true or more intelligible, and the notes and explanations have here reached their fullest extent

(3) Again, he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them which are bidden, Behold, I have prepared my dinner: my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready: come unto the marriage. But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise: and the remnant took his servants, and entreated them spitefully, and slew them. But when the king heard thereof, he was wroth: and sent forth his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city.