(34) Thou art as reason, we like the tongue; 'Tis reason that teaches the tongue to speak. Thou art as joy, and we are laughing; Our every motion every moment testifies, So the revolution of the millstone, so violent, O Thou who art above our conceptions and descriptions, Dust be on our heads, and upon our similitudes of Thee! Yet Thy slaves never cease devising images of Thee; They cry to Thee always, "My life is Thy footstool!" Like that shepherd who cried," O Lord!

(11) I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head.

(1) Already on my Lady's face mine eyes Again were fastened, and with these my mind, And from all other purpose was withdrawn; And she smiled not; but "If I were to smile," She unto me began, "thou wouldst become Like Semele, when she was turned to ashes. Because my beauty, that along the stairs Of the eternal palace more enkindles, As thou hast seen, the farther we ascend, If it were tempered not, is so resplendent That all thy mortal power in its effulgence Would seem a leaflet that the thunder crushes. We are uplifted to the seventh splendour, That underneath the burning Lion's breast Now radiates downward mingled with his power. Fix in direction of thine eyes the mind, And make of them a mirror for the figure That in this mirror shall appear to thee." He who could know what was the pasturage My sight had in that blessed countenance, When I transferred me to another care, Would recognize how grateful was to me Obedience unto my celestial escort, By counterpoising one side with the other.

(152) O love, love, and heart's desire of love! Let thy first boon to me be this, Though thou knowest my condition clearly, O protector of slaves, listen to my speech. A thousand times, O prince incomparable, Has my reason taken flight in desire to see thee, And to hear thee and to listen to thy words, Thy inclining thine ear to my supplications The baseness of my heart's coin is known to thee, Thou art proud towards the arrogant and proud;

(14) First the King gives it to the Eyes, to see whether it be Good or Evil; and the Eyes give it to the Ears, to hear from whence it comes, whether out of a true, or out of a false Region, and whether it be a Lie or Truth; and the Ears give it to the Nose, (the Smell,) that must smell, whether that which is brought in (and stands before the King) comes out of a good or uevil Essence; and the Nose gives it to the Taste, which must try whether it be pure or impure, and therefore the Taste has the Tongue, that it may spit it out again if it be impure; but if it be a Thought to [be expressed in] a Word, then the Lips are the Door-keepers, which must keep it shut, and not let the Tongue forth, but must bring it into the Region of the Air, into the Nostrils, and not into the Heart, and stifle it, and then it is dead.

(2) In all of them the soles were both on fire; Wherefore the joints so violently quivered, They would have snapped asunder withes and bands. Even as the flame of unctuous things is wont To move upon the outer surface only, So likewise was it there from heel to point. "Master, who is that one who writhes himself, More than his other comrades quivering," I said, "and whom a redder flame is sucking?" And he to me: "If thou wilt have me bear thee Down there along that bank which lowest lies, From him thou'lt know his errors and himself." And I: "What pleases thee, to me is pleasing; Thou art my Lord, and knowest that I depart not From thy desire, and knowest what is not spoken." Straightway upon the fourth dike we arrived; We turned, and on the left-hand side descended Down to the bottom full of holes and narrow. And the good Master yet from off his haunch Deposed me not, till to the hole he brought me Of him who so lamented with his shanks. "Whoe'er thou art, that standest upside down, O doleful soul, implanted like a stake," To say began I, "if thou canst, speak out."

(12) Sometimes I menace them with poverty, Sometimes I blind their eyes with tresses and moles." In this prison the food of true faith is scarce, In spite of prayers and fasts and endless pains, Alas ! we are perishing by his insolence. The dog is one, yet he enters a thousand forms; Whatever makes you shiver, know he is in it, When he finds no form at hand, he enters your thoughts, From your thoughts proceeds destruction, Sometimes thoughts of pleasure, sometimes of business, Sometimes thoughts of science, sometimes of house and home.

(5) My dear Mind, thou supposest thou art very sound, but thou art so beaten, that thou feelest thy Disease no more. Art thou not very near unto Death, how then canst thou account thyself to be sound? O my dear Soul, boast not of thy Soundness, thou liest fettered in heavy Bonds, yea in a very dark Dungeon; thou swimmest in a deep Water, which rises up to thy very Lips, and thou must continually expect Death. Besides, the Hunter is behind thee with a great Company of thy worst Enemies, whereby he draws thee continually down by his Chains into the horrible Deep, into the Abyss of Hell, and his Crew thrust thee on behind thee, and run upon thee on all Sides, yelling and hunting, as if they had the Hind they hunt after.

(10) My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me.

(3) Not otherwise in summer do the dogs, Now with the foot, now with the muzzle, when By fleas, or flies, or gadflies, they are bitten. When I had turned mine eyes upon the faces Of some, on whom the dolorous fire is falling, Not one of them I knew; but I perceived That from the neck of each there hung a pouch, Which certain colour had, and certain blazon; And thereupon it seems their eyes are feeding. And as I gazing round me come among them, Upon a yellow pouch I azure saw That had the face and posture of a lion. Proceeding then the current of my sight, Another of them saw I, red as blood, Display a goose more white than butter is. And one, who with an azure sow and gravid Emblazoned had his little pouch of white, Said unto me: "What dost thou in this moat? Now get thee gone; and since thou'rt still alive, Know that a neighbour of mine, Vitaliano, Will have his seat here on my left-hand side. A Paduan am I with these Florentines; Full many a time they thunder in mine ears, Exclaiming, 'Come the sovereign cavalier,

(3) And close to me approached, even as before, The very same who had entreated me, Attent to listen in their countenance. I, who their inclination twice had seen, Began: "O souls secure in the possession, Whene'er it may be, of a state of peace, Neither unripe nor ripened have remained My members upon earth, but here are with me With 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. But as your greatest longing satisfied May soon become, so that the Heaven may house you Which full of love is, and most amply spreads, Tell me, that I again in books may write it, Who are you, and what is that multitude Which goes upon its way behind your backs?" Not otherwise with wonder is bewildered The mountaineer, and staring round is dumb, When rough and rustic to the town he goes, Than every shade became in its appearance; But when they of their stupor were disburdened, Which in high hearts is quickly quieted,

A certain falcon lost his way, and found himself in the waste places inhabited by owls. The owls suspected that he had come to seize their nests, and all surrounded him to make an end of him. The falcon assured them that he had no such design as they imputed to him, that his abode was on the wrist of the king, and that he did not envy their foul habitation. The owls replied that he was trying to deceive them, inasmuch as such a strange bird as he could not be a favorite of the king. The falcon repeated that he was indeed a favorite of the king, and that the king would assuredly destroy their houses if they injured him, and proceeded to give them some good advice on the folly of trusting to outward appearances. He said, "It is true I am not homogeneous with the king, but yet the king's light is reflected in me, as water becomes homogeneous with earth in plants. I am, as it were, the dust beneath the king's feet; and if you become like me in this respect, you will be exalted as I am. Copy the outward form you behold in me, and perchance you will reach the real substance of the king."

(6) I have already seen thee with dry hair, And thou'rt Alessio Interminei of Lucca; Therefore I eye thee more than all the others." And he thereon, belabouring his pumpkin: "The flatteries have submerged me here below, Wherewith my tongue was never surfeited." Then said to me the Guide: "See that thou thrust Thy visage somewhat farther in advance, That with thine eyes thou well the face attain Of that uncleanly and dishevelled drab, Who there doth scratch herself with filthy nails, And crouches now, and now on foot is standing. Thais the harlot is it, who replied Unto her paramour, when he said, 'Have I Great gratitude from thee?'—'Nay, marvellous;' And herewith let our sight be satisfied."

(146) Therefore I can bring it no further than from the heart into the brain, before the princely throne of the senses, and there it is shut up in the firmament of heaven; and it goeth not back again through the qualifying or fountain spirits into the mother of the heart, that it might come on to the tongue, for if that were done I would tell it with my mouth, and make it known to the world.

(6) My Leader, who could see me bear myself Like to a man that rouses him from sleep, Exclaimed: "What ails thee, that thou canst not stand? But hast been coming more than half a league Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled, In guise of one whom wine or sleep subdues?" "O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me, I'll tell thee," said I, "what appeared to me, When thus from me my legs were ta'en away." And he: "If thou shouldst have a hundred masks Upon thy face, from me would not be shut Thy cogitations, howsoever small. What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace, Which from the eternal fountain are diffused.

(11) Be not afraid, be not bewildered, on seeing this terrific form of Mine. Free from fear and glad at heart, behold again My other form.

(14) Go your ways: behold, I send you forth as lambs among wolves. Carry neither purse, nor scrip, nor shoes: and salute no man by the way.

(6) The one uprose and down the other fell, Though turning not away their impious lamps, Underneath which each one his muzzle changed. He who was standing drew it tow'rds the temples, And from excess of matter, which came thither, Issued the ears from out the hollow cheeks; What did not backward run and was retained Of that excess made to the face a nose, And the lips thickened far as was befitting. He who lay prostrate thrusts his muzzle forward, And backward draws the ears into his head, In the same manner as the snail its horns; And so the tongue, which was entire and apt For speech before, is cleft, and the bi-forked In the other closes up, and the smoke ceases. The soul, which to a reptile had been changed, Along the valley hissing takes to flight, And after him the other speaking sputters.

(2) My Guide descended down into the boat, And then he made me enter after him, And only when I entered seemed it laden. Soon as the Guide and I were in the boat, The antique prow goes on its way, dividing More of the water than 'tis wont with others. While we were running through the dead canal, Uprose in front of me one full of mire, And said, "Who 'rt thou that comest ere the hour?" And I to him: "Although I come, I stay not; But who art thou that hast become so squalid?" "Thou seest that I am one who weeps," he answered. And I to him: "With weeping and with wailing, Thou spirit maledict, do thou remain; For thee I know, though thou art all defiled." Then stretched he both his hands unto the boat; Whereat my wary Master thrust him back, Saying, "Away there with the other dogs!" Thereafter with his arms he clasped my neck; He kissed my face, and said: "Disdainful soul, Blessed be she who bore thee in her bosom. That was an arrogant person in the world; Goodness is none, that decks his memory; So likewise here his shade is furious.

(40) Do not behold thyself, thou blind Mind, and consider thyself, where is thy angelical Form in thee? Why art thou so angry, stern, [fierce, froward,] and malicious? Wherefore dost thou elevate thyself still in thy Wickedness, in Pride, in Might [or Authority,] and Pomp, and boasteth thyself for a brave and potent Beast? What is it that thou dost? Wherefore hast thou High and Low. let the Spirit of this World into thee, which seduces thee (as it lists) into High-mindedness, into [proud] Stoutness, into P Potency and Pomp, into Covetousness and Lying, into Falshood and Treachery, as also into Sickness and Corruption, [or Frailty?]