(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,

(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."

(37) Thou wild Beast, how comest thou so great and strong? Hast thou not trampled in my Garden of Roses, and there made thee a Couch? Where are thy Brothers and Sisters? How comes it to pass, that they lie at thy Feet, and that they are so lean, and thou only art strong [and lusty?] Hast thou not devoured my Branches, and brought forth young Wolves, which devour thy I suffer thee in my Garden of Roses? Where is the noble Fruit which I sowed? Have you not turned them all into wild Branches? And where now shall I seek for the Fruit and Profit of my Garden of Roses? My Soul would fain eat of the good Fruit, but thou hast trampled all under-foot, and made it a Den of Murder.

(80) Come on, brave Sir, upon thy brown Nag! who ridest from Heaven into Hell, and from Hell into Death, and therein the Sting of Death lies; view thyself here, thou worldly wise Man, that art full of base Wit, Cunning, and subtle Policy.

(6) Those legs of thine at joustings of the Toppo!" And then, perchance because his breath was failing, He grouped himself together with a bush. Behind them was the forest full of black She-mastiffs, ravenous, and swift of foot As greyhounds, who are issuing from the chain. On him who had crouched down they set their teeth, And him they lacerated piece by piece, Thereafter bore away those aching members. Thereat my Escort took me by the hand, And led me to the bush, that all in vain Was weeping from its bloody lacerations. "O Jacopo," it said, "of Sant' Andrea, What helped it thee of me to make a screen? What blame have I in thy nefarious life?" When near him had the Master stayed his steps, He said: "Who wast thou, that through wounds so many Art blowing out with blood thy dolorous speech?"

(7) His aspect had bereft me of my sight, So that I turned me back unto my Teachers, Like one who goeth as his hearing guides him. And as, the harbinger of early dawn, The air of May doth move and breathe out fragrance, Impregnate all with herbage and with flowers, So did I feel a breeze strike in the midst My front, and felt the moving of the plumes That breathed around an odour of ambrosia; And heard it said: "Blessed are they whom grace So much illumines, that the love of taste Excites not in their breasts too great desire, Hungering at all times so far as is just."

(2) So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward, Turn itself back to re-behold the pass Which never yet a living person left. After my weary body I had rested, The way resumed I on the desert slope, So that the firm foot ever was the lower. And lo! almost where the ascent began, A panther light and swift exceedingly, Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er! And never moved she from before my face, Nay, rather did impede so much my way, That many times I to return had turned. The time was the beginning of the morning, And up the sun was mounting with those stars That with him were, what time the Love Divine At first in motion set those beauteous things; So were to me occasion of good hope, The variegated skin of that wild beast, The hour of time, and the delicious season; But not so much, that did not give me fear A lion's aspect which appeared to me. He seemed as if against me he were coming With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger, So that it seemed the air was afraid of him;

(59) But I have a little against thee. I have drawn thee out of the thorny Bath, wherein thou wast a wild Beast, and have figured thee for my Image, and yet thy wild Beast stands in the thorny Bath, which I will not take into my Bosom, thou standest yet in kthy wild Beast; now when the World takes its wild Beast which belongs thereto, then I will take thee, and so every one shall have its own.

(3) Certainly Nature, when she left the making Of animals like these, did well indeed, By taking such executors from Mars; And if of elephants and whales she doth not Repent her, whosoever looketh subtly More just and more discreet will hold her for it; For where the argument of intellect Is added unto evil will and power, No rampart can the people make against it. His face appeared to me as long and large As is at Rome the pine-cone of Saint Peter's, And in proportion were the other bones; So that the margin, which an apron was Down from the middle, showed so much of him Above it, that to reach up to his hair Three Frieslanders in vain had vaunted them; For I beheld thirty great palms of him Down from the place where man his mantle buckles. "Raphael mai amech izabi almi," Began to clamour the ferocious mouth, To which were not befitting sweeter psalms. And unto him my Guide: "Soul idiotic, Keep to thy horn, and vent thyself with that, When wrath or other passion touches thee.

(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.

(3) It goes on falling, and the more it grows, The more it finds the dogs becoming wolves, This maledict and misadventurous ditch. Descended then through many a hollow gulf, It finds the foxes so replete with fraud, They fear no cunning that may master them. Nor will I cease because another hears me; And well 'twill be for him, if still he mind him Of what a truthful spirit to me unravels. Thy grandson I behold, who doth become A hunter of those wolves upon the bank Of the wild stream, and terrifies them all. He sells their flesh, it being yet alive; Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves; Many of life, himself of praise, deprives. Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest; He leaves it such, a thousand years from now In its primeval state 'tis not re-wooded." As at the announcement of impending ills The face of him who listens is disturbed, From whate'er side the peril seize upon him; So I beheld that other soul, which stood Turned round to listen, grow disturbed and sad, When it had gathered to itself the word.

(1) Silent, alone, and without company We went, the one in front, the other after, As go the Minor Friars along their way. Upon the fable of Aesop was directed My thought, by reason of the present quarrel, Where he has spoken of the frog and mouse; For 'mo' and 'issa' are not more alike Than this one is to that, if well we couple End and beginning with a steadfast mind. And even as one thought from another springs, So afterward from that was born another, Which the first fear within me double made. Thus did I ponder: "These on our account Are laughed to scorn, with injury and scoff So great, that much I think it must annoy them. If anger be engrafted on ill-will, They will come after us more merciless Than dog upon the leveret which he seizes," I felt my hair stand all on end already With terror, and stood backwardly intent, When said I: "Master, if thou hidest not Thyself and me forthwith, of Malebranche I am in dread; we have them now behind us; I so imagine them, I already feel them."

(1) "Behold the monster with the pointed tail, Who cleaves the hills, and breaketh walls and weapons, Behold him who infecteth all the world." Thus unto me my Guide began to say, And beckoned him that he should come to shore, Near to the confine of the trodden marble; And that uncleanly image of deceit Came up and thrust ashore its head and bust, But on the border did not drag its tail. The face was as the face of a just man, Its semblance outwardly was so benign, And of a serpent all the trunk beside. Two paws it had, hairy unto the armpits; The back, and breast, and both the sides it had Depicted o'er with nooses and with shields. With colours more, groundwork or broidery Never in cloth did Tartars make nor Turks, Nor were such tissues by Arachne laid. As sometimes wherries lie upon the shore, That part are in the water, part on land; And as among the guzzling Germans there, The beaver plants himself to wage his war; So that vile monster lay upon the border, Which is of stone, and shutteth in the sand.

(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;

(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.

(63) Then thou has great Honour for thy Shame. And therefore why art thou so sad? Lift up thyself out of thy wild Beast, Hunter, or Persecutor, as a fair Flower springs out of the Earth. O dost thou suppose, thou wild Beast, that my Spirit is mad, that it so little esteemed thee? Thou sayest I am indeed thy Beast, yet thou art born out of me; if I had not grown forth, thou hadst not been neither. Hearken thou my Beast, I am greater than thou; when thou wast to be, there I was thy Master- framer; my Essences are out of the Root of the Eternity, but thou art from this World, and thou breakest [or corruptest,] but I live in my Source [or Quality] eternally; therefore am I much nobler than thou; thou livest in the fierce [wrathful] Source, but I will put strong fierce Property into the Light, into the eternal Joy; my Works stand in Power, and thine remain in the Figure; when I shall once be released from thee, then I shall take thee no more to be my Beast again, but [I will take] my new Body which I brought forth in thee, in thy deepest Root of the holy Element. I will no more have thy rough Productions of the four Elements, Death swallows thee up. But I spring and grow out of thee, with my new Body, as a Flower out of the Root; I will forget thee. For the Glory of God (which cursed thee together with the Earth) has grafted my Root again in his Son, and my Body grows in the holy Element before God. Therefore thou art but my wild Beast, which dost plague me, and make me sick here, upon which the Devil rides, as upon his accursed Horse; and although the World scorn thee, I regard not that, it does that for my Sake; and yet it cannot see me, neither can it know me. And why then is it so mad? It cannot murder me, for I am not in it.

(21) And not hearts only but very hills would bleed." Evil deeds give men's prayers an ill savour in Gods nostrils. Thou art asleep, and the smell of that forbidden fruit Ascends to the azure skies, Ascends along with thy foul breath, Till it overpowers heaven with stench; Stench of pride, stench of lust, stench of greed. Though thou swearest, saying, "When have I eaten? Have I not abstained from onions and garlic?" The very breath of that oath tells tales,

(6) "Rueful to thee the thirst be wherewith cracks Thy tongue," the Greek said, "and the putrid water That hedges so thy paunch before thine eyes." Then the false-coiner: "So is gaping wide Thy mouth for speaking evil, as 'tis wont; Because if I have thirst, and humour stuff me Thou hast the burning and the head that aches, And to lick up the mirror of Narcissus Thou wouldst not want words many to invite thee." In listening to them was I wholly fixed, When said the Master to me: "Now just look, For little wants it that I quarrel with thee." When him I heard in anger speak to me, I turned me round towards him with such shame That still it eddies through my memory.

(11) All malicious captivated Men (whom he has captivated) are his Hounds, which hunt the poor Soul with Haughtiness, Bravery, Covetousness, Unchastity, Anger, Cursing, and wrongful Oppression, so that the poor Soul is infected with these Things, and is very often set upon the Devil's Horse, as one of the [Devil's] Captives, and then the Devil will ride with it into Hell into the Anger of God. O how often does he rob the poor Soul of her fair Garment of the Knowledge of God! How does he rend away the Word of God from their Ears and Hearts, as Christ says clearly! Now if it will not do as he wills, and that it breaks out of his Garden, then he casts his Dirt and Filth upon it; and then he stirs up all his Bloodhounds, they must bawl at it, and cast mere Disgrace upon it; and then it stands as an Owl among the Birds, who one and other will have a Fling and a Pluck at it; and so it is also with the poor Soul, which steps through earnest Repentance (out of the Devil's Net) into the new Regeneration.

(5) And has a nature so malign and ruthless, That never doth she glut her greedy will, And after food is hungrier than before. Many the animals with whom she weds, And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound Comes, who shall make her perish in her pain. He shall not feed on either earth or pelf, But upon wisdom, and on love and virtue; 'Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall his nation be; Of that low Italy shall he be the saviour, On whose account the maid Camilla died, Euryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds; Through every city shall he hunt her down, Until he shall have driven her back to Hell, There from whence envy first did let her loose. Therefore I think and judge it for thy best Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide, And lead thee hence through the eternal place, Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations, Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate, Who cry out each one for the second death; And thou shalt see those who contented are Within the fire, because they hope to come, Whene'er it may be, to the blessed people;