(6) I in that place was Peter Damiano; And Peter the Sinner was I in the house Of Our Lady on the Adriatic shore. Little of mortal life remained to me, When I was called and dragged forth to the hat Which shifteth evermore from bad to worse. Came Cephas, and the mighty Vessel came Of the Holy Spirit, meagre and barefooted, Taking the food of any hostelry. Now some one to support them on each side The modern shepherds need, and some to lead them, So heavy are they, and to hold their trains. They cover up their palfreys with their cloaks, So that two beasts go underneath one skin; O Patience, that dost tolerate so much!" At this voice saw I many little flames From step to step descending and revolving, And every revolution made them fairer. Round about this one came they and stood still, And a cry uttered of so loud a sound, It here could find no parallel, nor I Distinguished it, the thunder so o'ercame me.

(1) In fashion then as of a snow-white rose Displayed itself to me the saintly host, Whom Christ in his own blood had made his bride, But the other host, that flying sees and sings The glory of Him who doth enamour it, And the goodness that created it so noble, Even as a swarm of bees, that sinks in flowers One moment, and the next returns again To where its labour is to sweetness turned, Sank into the great flower, that is adorned With leaves so many, and thence reascended To where its love abideth evermore. Their faces had they all of living flame, And wings of gold, and all the rest so white No snow unto that limit doth attain. From bench to bench, into the flower descending, They carried something of the peace and ardour Which by the fanning of their flanks they won. Nor did the interposing 'twixt the flower And what was o'er it of such plenitude Of flying shapes impede the sight and splendour; Because the light divine so penetrates The universe, according to its merit, That naught can be an obstacle against it.

(4) It seemed to me that new subsistences Began there to be seen, and make a circle Outside the other two circumferences. O very sparkling of the Holy Spirit, How sudden and incandescent it became Unto mine eyes, that vanquished bore it not! But Beatrice so beautiful and smiling Appeared to me, that with the other sights That followed not my memory I must leave her. Then to uplift themselves mine eyes resumed The power, and I beheld myself translated To higher salvation with my Lady only. Well was I ware that I was more uplifted By the enkindled smiling of the star, That seemed to me more ruddy than its wont. With all my heart, and in that dialect Which is the same in all, such holocaust To God I made as the new grace beseemed; And not yet from my bosom was exhausted The ardour of sacrifice, before I knew This offering was accepted and auspicious; For with so great a lustre and so red Splendours appeared to me in twofold rays, I said: "O Helios who dost so adorn them!"

(3) Whereat I moved mine eyes, and I beheld In rear of Mary, and upon that side Where he was standing who conducted me, Another story on the rock imposed; Wherefore I passed Virgilius and drew near, So that before mine eyes it might be set. There sculptured in the self-same marble were The cart and oxen, drawing the holy ark, Wherefore one dreads an office not appointed. People appeared in front, and all of them In seven choirs divided, of two senses Made one say "No," the other, "Yes, they sing." Likewise unto the smoke of the frankincense, Which there was imaged forth, the eyes and nose Were in the yes and no discordant made. Preceded there the vessel benedight, Dancing with girded loins, the humble Psalmist, And more and less than King was he in this. Opposite, represented at the window Of a great palace, Michal looked upon him, Even as a woman scornful and afflicted. I moved my feet from where I had been standing, To examine near at hand another story, Which after Michal glimmered white upon me.

(2) I stood as one who in himself represses The point of his desire, and ventures not To question, he so feareth the too much. And now the largest and most luculent Among those pearls came forward, that it might Make my desire concerning it content. Within it then I heard: "If thou couldst see Even as myself the charity that burns Among us, thy conceits would be expressed; But, that by waiting thou mayst not come late To the high end, I will make answer even Unto the thought of which thou art so chary. That mountain on whose slope Cassino stands Was frequented of old upon its summit By a deluded folk and ill-disposed; And I am he who first up thither bore The name of Him who brought upon the earth The truth that so much sublimateth us. And such abundant grace upon me shone That all the neighbouring towns I drew away From the impious worship that seduced the world. These other fires, each one of them, were men Contemplative, enkindled by that heat Which maketh holy flowers and fruits spring up.

(2) A king, whose empire stretched to the far horizons, had a daughter as beautiful as the moon. Before her loveliness even the fairies were abashed. Her dimpled chin resembled the well of Joseph, and the locks of her hair wounded a hundred hearts. Her eyebrows were twin bows, and when she loosed their arrows the space between sang her praise. Her eyes, languorous as the narcissus, threw thorns of her eyelashes in the path of the wise. Her face was as the sun when he took the moon's virginity. The Angel Gabriel could not tear his eyes from the pearls and rubies of her mouth. A smile of her

lips dried up the water of life in the beholder, who yet begged alms from these same lips. Whoever glanced at her chin fell headlong into a spring of bubbling water.

The king also had a slave, a youth, so handsome that the sun grew pale and the light of the moon diminished. When he walked in the streets and market-place crowds stopped to gaze at him.

By chance one day the princess saw this slave, and in a moment her heart slipped from her hand. Reason forsook her and love took possession. Her soul, sweet as Shirin, turned bitter. Withdrawing from her companions she mused, and musing and reflecting, began to burn. Then she called her ten young maids of honour. They were excellent musicians and played on the shawms and pipes; their voices wxre those of nightingales, and their singing, which tore the soul, was worthy of David. Gathering them around her she told them about her state, saying that she was ready to sacrifice her name, her honour, and her life for the love of this youth; for when one is deep in love one is good for nothing else. 'But,' she said, 'if I tell him of my love no doubt he will do something rash. If it becomes known that I have been intimate with a slave both he and I will suffer. On the other hand, if he does not possess me, I shall die lamenting behind the curtain of the harem. I have read a hundred books on patience and still I am without it. What can I do! I must find a way to enjoy the love of this slender cypress, so that the desire of my body shall accord with the longing of my soul - and this must be done without his knowing.'

Then the sweet-voiced maids said: 'Do not grieve. Tonight we will bring him here unknown to anyone, and even he will know nothing about it.'

Soon, one of the young girls went in secret to the slave and asked him, as if to play with him, to bring two cups of wine. Into one cup she threw a drug, contriving that he should drink it. He at once fell asleep, so that she was able

to carry out her plan, and the youth of the silver breast remained without news of the two worlds.

When night came the maids of honour went softly to where he lay and put him on a litter and carried him to the princess. Then they sat him on a golden throne and placed a coronet of pearls on his head. At midnight, still a little drugged, he opened his eyes and saw a palace as fair as paradise, and around him were golden seats. The place was lighted by ten great candles perfumed with amber, and sweet aloe wood burned in pans. The maidens began to sing, but in such sweet strains that reason bade farewell to the spirit, and the soul to the body. Then the sun of wine went round to the light of the candles. Bewildered with the joy of his surroundings and dazzled by the beauty of the princess, the youth lost his wits. He was no longer really in this world nor was he in the other. With a heart full of love, and a body possessed with desire, amid these delights he fell into a state of ecstasy. His eyes were fastened on her beauty and his ears to the sound of the reed pipes. His nostrils took in the perfume of amber and the wine in his mouth became like liquid fire. The princess kissed him, and he shed tears of joy while she mingled hers with his. Sometimes she pressed sweet kisses on his mouth, sometimes they were tinged with salt; sometimes she ruffled his long hair, sometimes she lost herself in his eyes. He possessed her; and so they passed the time until the dawn appeared in the East. When morning Zephyr breathed the young slave became sad; but they sent him to sleep again and took him back to his quarters.

When he of the silver breast came to himself, without knowing why, he began to weep. One might say the thing was finished, so what was the good of crying out. He tore his clothes, pulled his hair and put earth on his head. Those about him asked why he was doing this, and what had happened. He said: Ht is impossible to describe what I have

I

seen, no one else can ever see it except in a dream, for what has happened to me can never have happened to anyone before. Never was there a more astonishing mystery.'

Another said: 'Wake up, and tell us at least one of the hundred things that happened.' He replied: 'lam in a tumult because what I have seen has happened to me in another body. While hearing nothing I have heard everything, while seeing nothing I have seen everything.'

Another said: 'Have you lost your wits or have you just been dreaming?' 'Ah,' he said, 'I don't know if I was drunk or sober. What can be more puzzling than something which is neither revealed nor hidden. What I have seen I can never forget, yet I have no idea where it happened. For one whole night I revelled with a beauty who is without equal. Who and what she is I do not know. Only love remains, and that is all. But God knows the truth.'

(1) If e'er it happen that the Poem Sacred, To which both heaven and earth have set their hand, So that it many a year hath made me lean, O'ercome the cruelty that bars me out From the fair sheepfold, where a lamb I slumbered, An enemy to the wolves that war upon it, With other voice forthwith, with other fleece Poet will I return, and at my font Baptismal will I take the laurel crown; Because into the Faith that maketh known All souls to God there entered I, and then Peter for her sake thus my brow encircled. Thereafterward towards us moved a light Out of that band whence issued the first-fruits Which of his vicars Christ behind him left, And then my Lady, full of ecstasy, Said unto me: "Look, look! behold the Baron For whom below Galicia is frequented." In the same way as, when a dove alights Near his companion, both of them pour forth, Circling about and murmuring, their affection, So one beheld I by the other grand Prince glorified to be with welcome greeted, Lauding the food that there above is eaten.

(1) When he who all the world illuminates Out of our hemisphere so far descends That on all sides the daylight is consumed, The heaven, that erst by him alone was kindled, Doth suddenly reveal itself again By many lights, wherein is one resplendent. And came into my mind this act of heaven, When the ensign of the world and of its leaders Had silent in the blessed beak become; Because those living luminaries all, By far more luminous, did songs begin Lapsing and falling from my memory. O gentle Love, that with a smile dost cloak thee, How ardent in those sparks didst thou appear, That had the breath alone of holy thoughts! After the precious and pellucid crystals, With which begemmed the sixth light I beheld, Silence imposed on the angelic bells, I seemed to hear the murmuring of a river That clear descendeth down from rock to rock, Showing the affluence of its mountain-top. And as the sound upon the cithern's neck Taketh its form, and as upon the vent Of rustic pipe the wind that enters it,

(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?

(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.

(1) I have erewhile seen horsemen moving camp, Begin the storming, and their muster make, And sometimes starting off for their escape; Vaunt-couriers have I seen upon your land, O Aretines, and foragers go forth, Tournaments stricken, and the joustings run, Sometimes with trumpets and sometimes with bells, With kettle-drums, and signals of the castles, And with our own, and with outlandish things, But never yet with bagpipe so uncouth Did I see horsemen move, nor infantry, Nor ship by any sign of land or star. We went upon our way with the ten demons; Ah, savage company! but in the church With saints, and in the tavern with the gluttons! Ever upon the pitch was my intent, To see the whole condition of that Bolgia, And of the people who therein were burned. Even as the dolphins, when they make a sign To mariners by arching of the back, That they should counsel take to save their vessel, Thus sometimes, to alleviate his pain, One of the sinners would display his back, And in less time conceal it than it lightens.

(56) Here now stood the kindled bride in the seventh nature-spirit, like a proud beast; now she supposed she was beyond or above God, nothing was like her now: Love grew cold, the Heart of God could not touch it, for there was a contrary will or opposition between them. The Heart of God moved very meekly and lovingly, and the heart of the angel moved very darkly, hard, cold and fiery.

(3) Dense clouds do not appear, nor rarefied, Nor coruscation, nor the daughter of Thaumas, That often upon earth her region shifts; No arid vapour any farther rises Than to the top of the three steps I spake of, Whereon the Vicar of Peter has his feet. Lower down perchance it trembles less or more, But, for the wind that in the earth is hidden I know not how, up here it never trembled. It trembles here, whenever any soul Feels itself pure, so that it soars, or moves To mount aloft, and such a cry attends it. Of purity the will alone gives proof, Which, being wholly free to change its convent, Takes by surprise the soul, and helps it fly. First it wills well; but the desire permits not, Which divine justice with the self-same will There was to sin, upon the torment sets. And I, who have been lying in this pain Five hundred years and more, but just now felt A free volition for a better seat. Therefore thou heardst the earthquake, and the pious Spirits along the mountain rendering praise Unto the Lord, that soon he speed them upwards."

(4) And of them was the singing of those lights. Who takes not wings that he may fly up thither, The tidings thence may from the dumb await! As soon as singing thus those burning suns Had round about us whirled themselves three times, Like unto stars neighbouring the steadfast poles, Ladies they seemed, not from the dance released, But who stop short, in silence listening Till they have gathered the new melody. And within one I heard beginning: "When The radiance of grace, by which is kindled True love, and which thereafter grows by loving, Within thee multiplied is so resplendent That it conducts thee upward by that stair, Where without reascending none descends, Who should deny the wine out of his vial Unto thy thirst, in liberty were not Except as water which descends not seaward. Fain wouldst thou know with what plants is enflowered This garland that encircles with delight The Lady fair who makes thee strong for heaven. Of the lambs was I of the holy flock Which Dominic conducteth by a road Where well one fattens if he strayeth not.

(1) "O company elect to the great supper Of the Lamb benedight, who feedeth you So that for ever full is your desire, If by the grace of God this man foretaste Something of that which falleth from your table, Or ever death prescribe to him the time, Direct your mind to his immense desire, And him somewhat bedew; ye drinking are For ever at the fount whence comes his thought." Thus Beatrice; and those souls beatified Transformed themselves to spheres on steadfast poles, Flaming intensely in the guise of comets. And as the wheels in works of horologes Revolve so that the first to the beholder Motionless seems, and the last one to fly, So in like manner did those carols, dancing In different measure, of their affluence Give me the gauge, as they were swift or slow. From that one which I noted of most beauty Beheld I issue forth a fire so happy That none it left there of a greater brightness; And around Beatrice three several times It whirled itself with so divine a song, My fantasy repeats it not to me;

(6) One o'er the cradle kept her studious watch, And in her lullaby the language used That first delights the fathers and the mothers; Another, drawing tresses from her distaff, Told o'er among her family the tales Of Trojans and of Fesole and Rome. As great a marvel then would have been held A Lapo Salterello, a Cianghella, As Cincinnatus or Cornelia now. To such a quiet, such a beautiful Life of the citizen, to such a safe Community, and to so sweet an inn, Did Mary give me, with loud cries invoked, And in your ancient Baptistery at once Christian and Cacciaguida I became.

(5) Unto the canticle divine responded From every part the court beatified, So that each sight became serener for it. "O holy father, who for me endurest To be below here, leaving the sweet place In which thou sittest by eternal lot, Who is the Angel that with so much joy Into the eyes is looking of our Queen, Enamoured so that he seems made of fire?" Thus I again recourse had to the teaching Of that one who delighted him in Mary As doth the star of morning in the sun. And he to me: "Such gallantry and grace As there can be in Angel and in soul, All is in him; and thus we fain would have it; Because he is the one who bore the palm Down unto Mary, when the Son of God To take our burden on himself decreed. But now come onward with thine eyes, as I Speaking shall go, and note the great patricians Of this most just and merciful of empires. Those two that sit above there most enrapture As being very near unto Augusta, Are as it were the two roots of this Rose.

(2) I do not think that so to merest rind Could Erisichthon have been withered up By famine, when most fear he had of it. Thinking within myself I said: "Behold, This is the folk who lost Jerusalem, When Mary made a prey of her own son." Their sockets were like rings without the gems; Whoever in the face of men reads 'omo' Might well in these have recognised the 'm.' Who would believe the odour of an apple, Begetting longing, could consume them so, And that of water, without knowing how? I still was wondering what so famished them, For the occasion not yet manifest Of their emaciation and sad squalor; And lo! from out the hollow of his head His eyes a shade turned on me, and looked keenly; Then cried aloud: "What grace to me is this?" Never should I have known him by his look; But in his voice was evident to me That which his aspect had suppressed within it. This spark within me wholly re-enkindled My recognition of his altered face, And I recalled the features of Forese.

(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?"

(9) Concerning a certain saint it is related that his wife died and he would not marry again, though people urged him, saying it was easier to concentrate his thoughts in solitude. One night he saw in a dream the door of heaven opened and numbers of angels descending. They came near and looked upon him, and one said, "Is this that selfish wretch?" and his fellow answered, "Yes, this is he." The saint was too alarmed to ask whom they meant, but presently a boy passed and he asked him. "It is you they are speaking about," replied the boy; "only up to a week ago your good works were being recorded in heaven along with those of other saints, but now they have erased your name from the roll." Greatly disturbed in mind as soon as he awoke, he hastened to be married. From all the above considerations it will be seen that marriage is desirable.