The Divine Comedy - Dante Alighieri (good e books to read txt) š
- Author: Dante Alighieri
- Performer: -
Book online Ā«The Divine Comedy - Dante Alighieri (good e books to read txt) šĀ». Author Dante Alighieri
Here, reader! for the truth makes thine eyes keen: For of so subtle texture is this veil, That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmarkād.
I saw that gentle band silently next Look up, as if in expectation held, Pale and in lowly guise; and from on high I saw forth issuing descend beneath Two angels with two flame-illuminād swords, Broken and mutilated at their points.
Green as the tender leaves but newly born, Their vesture was, the which by wings as green Beaten, they drew behind them, fannād in air.
A little over us one took his stand, The other lighted on theā Opposing hill, So that the troop were in the midst containād.
Well I descried the whiteness on their heads; But in their visages the dazzled eye Was lost, as faculty that by too much Is overpowerād. āFrom Maryās bosom both Are come,ā exclaimād Sordello, āas a guard Over the vale, ganst him, who hither tends, The serpent.ā Whence, not knowing by which path He came, I turnād me round, and closely pressād, All frozen, to my leaderās trusted side.
Sordello pausād not: āTo the valley now (For it is time) let us descend; and hold Converse with those great shadows: haply much Their sight may please ye.ā Only three steps down Methinks I measurād, ere I was beneath, And noted one who lookād as with desire To know me. Time was now that air arrow dim; Yet not so dim, that ātwixt his eyes and mine It clearād not up what was concealād before.
Mutually towārds each other we advancād.
Nino, thou courteous judge! what joy I felt, When I perceivād thou wert not with the bad!
No salutation kind on either part Was left unsaid. He then inquirād: āHow long Since thou arrivedāst at the mountainās foot, Over the distant waves?ā āāO!ā answerād I, āThrough the sad seats of woe this morn I came, And still in my first life, thus journeying on, The other strive to gain.ā Soon as they heard My words, he and Sordello backward drew, As suddenly amazād. To Virgil one, The other to a spirit turnād, who near Was seated, crying: āConrad! up with speed: Come, see what of his grace high God hath willād.ā
Then turning round to me: āBy that rare mark Of honour which thou owāst to him, who hides So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford, When thou shalt he beyond the vast of waves.
Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call There, where reply to innocence is made.
Her mother, I believe, loves me no more; Since she has changād the white and wimpled folds, Which she is doomād once more with grief to wish.
By her it easily may be perceivād, How long in women lasts the flame of love, If sight and touch do not relume it oft.
For her so fair a burial will not make The viper which calls Milan to the field, As had been made by shrill Galluraās bird.ā
He spoke, and in his visage took the stamp Of that right seal, which with due temperature Glows in the bosom. My insatiate eyes Meanwhile to heavān had travelād, even there Where the bright stars are slowest, as a wheel Nearest the axle; when my guide inquirād: āWhat there aloft, my son, has caught thy gaze?ā
I answerād: āThe three torches, with which here The pole is all on fire. āHe then to me: āThe four resplendent stars, thou sawāst this morn Are there beneath, and these risān in their stead.ā
While yet he spoke. Sordello to himself Drew him, and cryād: āLo there our enemy!ā
And with his hand pointed that way to look.
Along the side, where barrier none arose Around the little vale, a serpent lay, Such haply as gave Eve the bitter food.
Between the grass and flowers, the evil snake Came on, reverting oft his lifted head; And, as a beast that smoothes its polishād coat, Licking his hack. I saw not, nor can tell, How those celestial falcons from their seat Movād, but in motion each one well descried, Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes.
The serpent fled; and to their stations back The angels up returnād with equal flight.
The Spirit (who to Nino, when he callād, Had come), from viewing me with fixed ken, Through all that conflict, loosenād not his sight.
āSo may the lamp, which leads thee up on high, Find, in thy destinād lot, of wax so much, As may suffice thee to the enamelās height.ā
It thus began: āIf any certain news Of Valdimagra and the neighbour part Thou knowāst, tell me, who once was mighty there They callād me Conrad Malaspina, not That old one, but from him I sprang. The love I bore my people is now here refinād.ā
āIn your dominions,ā I answerād, āneāer was I.
But through all Europe where do those men dwell, To whom their glory is not manifest?
The fame, that honours your illustrious house, Proclaims the nobles and proclaims the land; So that he knows it who was never there.
I swear to you, so may my upward route Prosper! your honourād nation not impairs The value of her coffer and her sword.
Nature and use give her such privilege, That while the world is twisted from his course By a bad head, she only walks aright, And has the evil way in scorn.ā He then: āNow pass thee on: sevān times the tired sun Revisits not the couch, which with four feet The forked Aries covers, ere that kind Opinion shall be nailād into thy brain With stronger nails than otherās speech can drive, If the sure course of judgment be not stayād.ā
CANTO IX
Now the fair consort of Tithonus old, Arisen from her mateās beloved arms, Lookād palely oāer the eastern cliff: her brow, Lucent with jewels, glitterād, set in sign Of that chill animal, who with his train Smites fearful nations: and where then we were, Two steps of her ascent the night had past, And now the third was closing up its wing, When I, who had so much of Adam with me, Sank down upon the grass, oāercome with sleep, There where all five were seated. In that hour, When near the dawn the swallow her sad lay, Remembāring haply ancient grief, renews, And with our minds more wandārers from the flesh, And less by thought restrainād are, as āt were, full Of holy divination in their dreams, Then in a vision did I seem to view A golden-featherād eagle in the sky, With open wings, and hovāring for descent, And I was in that place, methought, from whence Young Ganymede, from his associates āreft, Was snatchād aloft to the high consistory.
āPerhaps,ā thought I within me, āhere alone He strikes his quarry, and elsewhere disdains To pounce upon the prey.ā Therewith, it seemād, A little wheeling in his airy tour Terrible as the lightning rushād he down, And snatchād me upward even to the fire.
There both, I thought, the eagle and myself Did burn; and so intense thā imaginād flames, That needs my sleep was broken off. As erst Achilles shook himself, and round him rollād His wakenād eyeballs wondāring where he was, Whenas his mother had from Chiron fled To Scyros, with him sleeping in her arms; Eāen thus I shook me, soon as from my face The slumber parted, turning deadly pale, Like one ice-struck with dread. Solo at my side My comfort stood: and the bright sun was now More than two hours aloft: and to the sea My looks were turnād. āFear not,ā my master cried, āAssurād we are at happy point. Thy strength Shrink not, but rise dilated. Thou art come To Purgatory now. Lo! there the cliff That circling bounds it! Lo! the entrance there, Where it doth seem disparted! Ere the dawn Usherād the daylight, when thy wearied soul Slept in thee, oāer the flowery vale beneath A lady came, and thus bespake me: āI Am Lucia. Suffer me to take this man, Who slumbers. Easier so his way shall speed.ā
Sordello and the other gentle shapes Tarrying, she bare thee up: and, as day shone, This summit reachād: and I pursued her steps.
Here did she place thee. First her lovely eyes That open entrance showād me; then at once She vanishād with thy sleep.ā Like one, whose doubts Are chasād by certainty, and terror turnād To comfort on discovery of the truth, Such was the change in me: and as my guide Beheld me fearless, up along the cliff He movād, and I behind him, towards the height.
Reader! thou markest how my theme doth rise, Nor wonder therefore, if more artfully I prop the structure! Nearer now we drew, Arrivādā whence in that part, where first a breach As of a wall appearād, I could descry A portal, and three steps beneath, that led For inlet there, of different colour each, And one who watchād, but spake not yet a word.
As more and more mine eye did stretch its view, I markād him seated on the highest step, In visage such, as past my power to bear.
Graspād in his hand a naked sword, glancād back The rays so toward me, that I oft in vain My sight directed. āSpeak from whence ye stand:ā
He cried: āWhat would ye? Where is your escort?
Take heed your coming upward harm ye not.ā
āA heavenly dame, not skilless of these things,ā
Replied theā instructor, ātold us, even now, āPass that way: here the gate is.ā āāAnd may she Befriending prosper your ascent,ā resumād The courteous keeper of the gate: āCome then Before our steps.ā We straightway thither came.
The lowest stair was marble white so smooth And polishād, that therein my mirrorād form Distinct I saw. The next of hue more dark Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block, Crackād lengthwise and across. The third, that lay Massy above, seemād porphyry, that flamād Red as the life-blood spouting from a vein.
On this Godās angel either foot sustainād, Upon the threshold seated, which appearād A rock of diamond. Up the trinal steps My leader cheerily drew me. āAsk,ā said he, āWith humble heart, that he unbar the bolt.ā
Piously at his holy feet devolvād I cast me, praying him for pityās sake That he would open to me: but first fell Thrice on my bosom prostrate. Seven times0
The letter, that denotes the inward stain, He on my forehead with the blunted point Of his drawn sword inscribād. And āLook,ā he cried, āWhen enterād, that thou wash these scars away.ā
Ashes, or earth taāen dry out of the ground, Were of one colour with the robe he wore.
From underneath that vestment forth he drew Two keys of metal twain: the one was gold, Its fellow silver. With the pallid first, And next the burnishād, he so plyād the gate, As to content me well. āWhenever one Faileth of these, that in the keyhole straight It turn not, to this alley then expect Access in vain.ā Such were the words he spake.
āOne is more precious: but the other needs Skill and sagacity, large share of each, Ere its good task to disengage the knot Be worthily performād. From Peter these I hold, of him instructed, that I err Rather in opening than in keeping fast; So but the suppliant at my feet implore.ā
Then of that hallowād gate he thrust the door, Exclaiming, āEnter, but this warning hear: He forth again departs who looks behind.ā
As in the hinges of that sacred ward The swivels turnād, sonorous metal strong, Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily Roarād the Tarpeian, when by force bereft Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss To leanness doomād. Attentively I turnād, Listāning the thunder, that first issued
Comments (0)