(5) Sometimes an animal, when covered, struggles So that his impulse needs must be apparent, By reason of the wrappage following it; And in like manner the primeval soul Made clear to me athwart its covering How jubilant it was to give me pleasure. Then breathed: "Without thy uttering it to me, Thine inclination better I discern Than thou whatever thing is surest to thee; For I behold it in the truthful mirror, That of Himself all things parhelion makes, And none makes Him parhelion of itself. Thou fain wouldst hear how long ago God placed me Within the lofty garden, where this Lady Unto so long a stairway thee disposed. And how long to mine eyes it was a pleasure, And of the great disdain the proper cause, And the language that I used and that I made. Now, son of mine, the tasting of the tree Not in itself was cause of so great exile, But solely the o'erstepping of the bounds. There, whence thy Lady moved Virgilius, Four thousand and three hundred and two circuits Made by the sun, this Council I desired;

(2) Thou'lt see me come unto thy darling tree, And crown myself thereafter with those leaves Of which the theme and thou shall make me worthy. So seldom, Father, do we gather them For triumph or of Caesar or of Poet, (The fault and shame of human inclinations,) That the Peneian foliage should bring forth Joy to the joyous Delphic deity, When any one it makes to thirst for it. A little spark is followed by great flame; Perchance with better voices after me Shall prayer be made that Cyrrha may respond! To mortal men by passages diverse Uprises the world's lamp; but by that one Which circles four uniteth with three crosses, With better course and with a better star Conjoined it issues, and the mundane wax Tempers and stamps more after its own fashion. Almost that passage had made morning there And evening here, and there was wholly white That hemisphere, and black the other part, When Beatrice towards the left-hand side I saw turned round, and gazing at the sun; Never did eagle fasten so upon it!

(5) And other lights I saw descend where was The summit of the M, and pause there singing The good, I think, that draws them to itself. Then, as in striking upon burning logs Upward there fly innumerable sparks, Whence fools are wont to look for auguries, More than a thousand lights seemed thence to rise, And to ascend, some more, and others less, Even as the Sun that lights them had allotted; And, each one being quiet in its place, The head and neck beheld I of an eagle Delineated by that inlaid fire. He who there paints has none to be his guide; But Himself guides; and is from Him remembered That virtue which is form unto the nest. The other beatitude, that contented seemed At first to bloom a lily on the M, By a slight motion followed out the imprint. O gentle star! what and how many gems Did demonstrate to me, that all our justice Effect is of that heaven which thou ingemmest! Wherefore I pray the Mind, in which begin Thy motion and thy virtue, to regard Whence comes the smoke that vitiates thy rays;

(2) Then to the wheels the maidens turned themselves, And the Griffin moved his burden benedight, But so that not a feather of him fluttered. The lady fair who drew me through the ford Followed with Statius and myself the wheel Which made its orbit with the lesser arc. So passing through the lofty forest, vacant By fault of her who in the serpent trusted, Angelic music made our steps keep time. Perchance as great a space had in three flights An arrow loosened from the string o'erpassed, As we had moved when Beatrice descended. I heard them murmur altogether, "Adam!" Then circled they about a tree despoiled Of blooms and other leafage on each bough. Its tresses, which so much the more dilate As higher they ascend, had been by Indians Among their forests marvelled at for height. "Blessed art thou, O Griffin, who dost not Pluck with thy beak these branches sweet to taste, Since appetite by this was turned to evil." After this fashion round the tree robust The others shouted; and the twofold creature: "Thus is preserved the seed of all the just."

(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.

(4) And I beheld the flamelets onward go, Leaving behind themselves the air depicted, And they of trailing pennons had the semblance, So that it overhead remained distinct With sevenfold lists, all of them of the colours Whence the sun's bow is made, and Delia's girdle. These standards to the rearward longer were Than was my sight; and, as it seemed to me, Ten paces were the outermost apart. Under so fair a heaven as I describe The four and twenty Elders, two by two, Came on incoronate with flower-de-luce. They all of them were singing: "Blessed thou Among the daughters of Adam art, and blessed For evermore shall be thy loveliness." After the flowers and other tender grasses In front of me upon the other margin Were disencumbered of that race elect, Even as in heaven star followeth after star, There came close after them four animals, Incoronate each one with verdant leaf. Plumed with six wings was every one of them, The plumage full of eyes; the eyes of Argus If they were living would be such as these.

(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."

(3) These words of his so spurred me on, that I Strained every nerve, behind him scrambling up, Until the circle was beneath my feet. Thereon ourselves we seated both of us Turned to the East, from which we had ascended, For all men are delighted to look back. To the low shores mine eyes I first directed, Then to the sun uplifted them, and wondered That on the left hand we were smitten by it. The Poet well perceived that I was wholly Bewildered at the chariot of the light, Where 'twixt us and the Aquilon it entered. Whereon he said to me: "If Castor and Pollux Were in the company of yonder mirror, That up and down conducteth with its light, Thou wouldst behold the zodiac's jagged wheel Revolving still more near unto the Bears, Unless it swerved aside from its old track. How that may be wouldst thou have power to think, Collected in thyself, imagine Zion Together with this mount on earth to stand, So that they both one sole horizon have, And hemispheres diverse; whereby the road Which Phaeton, alas! knew not to drive,

(5) Wishing to express Sun in writing, they make a circle; and Moon, a figure like the Moon, like its proper shape. But in using the figurative style, by transposing and transferring, by changing and by transforming in many ways as suits them, they draw characters. In relating the praises of the kings in theological myths, they write in anaglyphs. Let the following stand as a specimen of the third species - the Enigmatic. For the rest of the stars, on account of their oblique course, they have figured like the bodies of serpents; but the sun, like that of a beetle, because it makes a round figure of ox-dung, and rolls it before its face. And they say that this creature lives six months under ground, and the other division of the year above ground, and emits its seed into the ball, and brings forth; and that there is not a female beetle. All then, in a word, who have spoken of divine things, both Barbarians and Greeks, have veiled the first principles of things, and delivered the truth in enigmas, and symbols, and allegories, and metaphors, and such like tropes. Such also are the oracles among the Greeks. And the Pythian Apollo is called Loxias. Also the maxims of those among the Greeks called wise men, in a few sayings indicate the unfolding of matter of considerable importance. Such certainly is that maxim, "Spare Time:" either because life is short, and we ought not to expend this time in vain; or, on the other hand, it bids you spare your personal expenses; so that, though you live many years, necessaries may not fail you. Similarly also the maxim "Know thyself" shows many things; both that thou art mortal, and that thou wast born a human being; and also that, in comparison with the other excellences of life, thou art of no account, because thou sayest that thou art rich or renowned; or, on the other hand, that, being rich or renowned, you are not honoured on account of your advantages alone. And it says, Know for what thou wert born, and whose image thou art; and what is thy essence, and what thy creation, and what thy relation to God, and the like. And the Spirit says by Isaiah the prophet, "I will give thee treasures, hidden, dark." Now wisdom, hard to hunt, is the treasures of God and unfailing riches. But those, taught in theology by those prophets, the poets, philosophize much by way of a hidden sense. I mean Orpheus, Linus, Musaeus, Homer, and Hesiod, and those in this fashion wise. The persuasive style of poetry is for them a veil for the many.

(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.

(4) My sight was following up their semblances, And followed till the medium, by excess, The passing farther onward took from it; Whereat the Lady, who beheld me freed From gazing upward, said to me: "Cast down Thy sight, and see how far thou art turned round." Since the first time that I had downward looked, I saw that I had moved through the whole arc Which the first climate makes from midst to end; So that I saw the mad track of Ulysses Past Gades, and this side, well nigh the shore Whereon became Europa a sweet burden. And of this threshing-floor the site to me Were more unveiled, but the sun was proceeding Under my feet, a sign and more removed. My mind enamoured, which is dallying At all times with my Lady, to bring back To her mine eyes was more than ever ardent. And if or Art or Nature has made bait To catch the eyes and so possess the mind, In human flesh or in its portraiture, All joined together would appear as nought To the divine delight which shone upon me When to her smiling face I turned me round.

(3) And turning to the pole which he had dragged, He drew it close beneath the widowed bough, And what was of it unto it left bound. In the same manner as our trees (when downward Falls the great light, with that together mingled Which after the celestial Lasca shines) Begin to swell, and then renew themselves, Each one with its own colour, ere the Sun Harness his steeds beneath another star: Less than of rose and more than violet A hue disclosing, was renewed the tree That had erewhile its boughs so desolate. I never heard, nor here below is sung, The hymn which afterward that people sang, Nor did I bear the melody throughout. Had I the power to paint how fell asleep Those eyes compassionless, of Syrinx hearing, Those eyes to which more watching cost so dear, Even as a painter who from model paints I would portray how I was lulled asleep; He may, who well can picture drowsihood. Therefore I pass to what time I awoke, And say a splendour rent from me the veil Of slumber, and a calling: "Rise, what dost thou?"

(1) Remember, Reader, if e'er in the Alps A mist o'ertook thee, through which thou couldst see Not otherwise than through its membrane mole, How, when the vapours humid and condensed Begin to dissipate themselves, the sphere Of the sun feebly enters in among them, And thy imagination will be swift In coming to perceive how I re-saw The sun at first, that was already setting. Thus, to the faithful footsteps of my Master Mating mine own, I issued from that cloud To rays already dead on the low shores. O thou, Imagination, that dost steal us So from without sometimes, that man perceives not, Although around may sound a thousand trumpets, Who moveth thee, if sense impel thee not? Moves thee a light, which in the heaven takes form, By self, or by a will that downward guides it. Of her impiety, who changed her form Into the bird that most delights in singing, In my imagining appeared the trace; And hereupon my mind was so withdrawn Within itself, that from without there came Nothing that then might be received by it.

(1) That Sun, which erst with love my bosom warmed, Of beauteous truth had unto me discovered, By proving and reproving, the sweet aspect. And, that I might confess myself convinced And confident, so far as was befitting, I lifted more erect my head to speak. But there appeared a vision, which withdrew me So close to it, in order to be seen, That my confession I remembered not. Such as through polished and transparent glass, Or waters crystalline and undisturbed, But not so deep as that their bed be lost, Come back again the outlines of our faces So feeble, that a pearl on forehead white Comes not less speedily unto our eyes; Such saw I many faces prompt to speak, So that I ran in error opposite To that which kindled love 'twixt man and fountain. As soon as I became aware of them, Esteeming them as mirrored semblances, To see of whom they were, mine eyes I turned, And nothing saw, and once more turned them forward Direct into the light of my sweet Guide, Who smiling kindled in her holy eyes.

(1) As much as 'twixt the close of the third hour And dawn of day appeareth of that sphere Which aye in fashion of a child is playing, So much it now appeared, towards the night, Was of his course remaining to the sun; There it was evening, and 'twas midnight here; And the rays smote the middle of our faces, Because by us the mount was so encircled, That straight towards the west we now were going When I perceived my forehead overpowered Beneath the splendour far more than at first, And stupor were to me the things unknown, Whereat towards the summit of my brow I raised my hands, and made myself the visor Which the excessive glare diminishes. As when from off the water, or a mirror, The sunbeam leaps unto the opposite side, Ascending upward in the selfsame measure That it descends, and deviates as far From falling of a stone in line direct, (As demonstrate experiment and art,) So it appeared to me that by a light Refracted there before me I was smitten; On which account my sight was swift to flee.

(6) Three maidens at the right wheel in a circle Came onward dancing; one so very red That in the fire she hardly had been noted. The second was as if her flesh and bones Had all been fashioned out of emerald; The third appeared as snow but newly fallen. And now they seemed conducted by the white, Now by the red, and from the song of her The others took their step, or slow or swift. Upon the left hand four made holiday Vested in purple, following the measure Of one of them with three eyes in her head. In rear of all the group here treated of Two old men I beheld, unlike in habit, But like in gait, each dignified and grave. One showed himself as one of the disciples Of that supreme Hippocrates, whom nature Made for the animals she holds most dear; Contrary care the other manifested, With sword so shining and so sharp, it caused Terror to me on this side of the river.

(4) And even as birds uprisen from the shore, As in congratulation o'er their food, Make squadrons of themselves, now round, now long, So from within those lights the holy creatures Sang flying to and fro, and in their figures Made of themselves now D, now I, now L. First singing they to their own music moved; Then one becoming of these characters, A little while they rested and were silent. O divine Pegasea, thou who genius Dost glorious make, and render it long-lived, And this through thee the cities and the kingdoms, Illume me with thyself, that I may bring Their figures out as I have them conceived! Apparent be thy power in these brief verses! Themselves then they displayed in five times seven Vowels and consonants; and I observed The parts as they seemed spoken unto me. 'Diligite justitiam,' these were First verb and noun of all that was depicted; 'Qui judicatis terram' were the last. Thereafter in the M of the fifth word Remained they so arranged, that Jupiter Seemed to be silver there with gold inlaid.

(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.

(1) Because the charity of my native place Constrained me, gathered I the scattered leaves, And gave them back to him, who now was hoarse. Then came we to the confine, where disparted The second round is from the third, and where A horrible form of Justice is beheld. Clearly to manifest these novel things, I say that we arrived upon a plain, Which from its bed rejecteth every plant; The dolorous forest is a garland to it All round about, as the sad moat to that; There close upon the edge we stayed our feet. The soil was of an arid and thick sand, Not of another fashion made than that Which by the feet of Cato once was pressed. Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou By each one to be dreaded, who doth read That which was manifest unto mine eyes! Of naked souls beheld I many herds, Who all were weeping very miserably, And over them seemed set a law diverse. Supine upon the ground some folk were lying; And some were sitting all drawn up together, And others went about continually.

(2) Rejoicing in their flamelets seemed the heaven. O thou septentrional and widowed site, Because thou art deprived of seeing these! When from regarding them I had withdrawn, Turning a little to the other pole, There where the Wain had disappeared already, I saw beside me an old man alone, Worthy of so much reverence in his look, That more owes not to father any son. A long beard and with white hair intermingled He wore, in semblance like unto the tresses, Of which a double list fell on his breast. The rays of the four consecrated stars Did so adorn his countenance with light, That him I saw as were the sun before him. "Who are you? ye who, counter the blind river, Have fled away from the eternal prison?" Moving those venerable plumes, he said: "Who guided you? or who has been your lamp In issuing forth out of the night profound, That ever black makes the infernal valley? The laws of the abyss, are they thus broken? Or is there changed in heaven some council new, That being damned ye come unto my crags?"