the group that just arrived: “Sodom, Gomorrah!” The rest: “Pasiphaë enters the cow so that the bull may rush to mount her lust!”
42
Imagine cranes forming two flocks: one flies off toward the Riphean heights, one toward the sands, one to escape the frost, and one the sun—
45
so, here, two groups went their opposing ways, and all, in tears, took up once more their chants, with cries that fit each of their penances.
48
Then those same shades who had first questioned me drew close to me as they had done before, intent on listening, their faces glowed.
51
And I, who twice now knew their eager wish, began: “O souls assured of entering beatitude whenever it may be,
54
I did not leave my body, green or ripe, below on earth: I have it with me here; it is real flesh, complete with blood and bones.
57
I climb to cure my blindness, for above a lady has won grace for me, that I may bear my mortal burden through your world.
60
But please—so may what you desire most be quickly yours, and Heaven’s greatest sphere shelter you in its loving spaciousness—
63
40. The newly arrived group shouts “Sodom, Gomorrah!” in self-reproach. The city of Sodom gave its name to the sin of sodomy.
41. Pasiphae was the wife of King Minos of Crete, to whom Poseidon sent a black bull to be offered up as a sacrifice. Minos put it in his herd and Poseidon, out of revenge, caused Pasiphaë to lust after the bull. She had Daedalus, the craftsman, make a wooden structure in the shape of a cow, which was covered with a cowhide. Pasiphaë entered the cow and was possessed by the bull. The result of this union was the birth of the Minotaur, a creature half bull, half human (see Inferno XII, 12-18).
62. The sphere is the Empyrean, the place from which Beatrice descended to Limbo in order to help her lover.
tell me, who are you? Who are those that run away behind us in the other group? I shall record your answers in my book. ”
66
No less dumbfounded than a mountaineer, who, speechless, gapes at everything he sees, when, rude and rustic, he comes down to town,
69
were all those shades there judging from their looks; but when they had recovered from surprise (which in a noble heart lasts but a while),
72
the same soul who had earlier questioned me began: “Blessed arc you, who from our shores can ship experience back for a better death!
75
The shades that do not move with us were marked by that same sin for which Caesar as he passed in triumph heard himself called a ‘Queen’;
78
and that is why you heard ‘Sodom!’ cried out in self-reproach, as they ran off from us; they use their shame to intensify the flames.
81
And ours was an hermaphroditic sin, but since we did not act like human beings, yielding instead, like animals, to lust,
84
when we pass by the other group, we shout to our own shame the shameful name of her who bestialized herself in beast-shaped wood.
87
Now you know what our guilt is. Should you want to know our names, I do not know them all, and if I did, there still would not be time.
90
As for my name, I can fulfill your wish: I am Guido Guinizelli—here so soon, for I repented long before I died. ”
93
82. By “hermaphroditic” Dante means heterosexual, male with female.
86. The “shameful name” is Pasiphaë (see note at 41).
As King Lycurgus raged with grief, two sons discovered their lost mother and rejoiced—I felt the same (though more restrained) to hear
96
that spirit name himself—father of me and father of my betters, all who wrote a sweet and graceful poetry of love.
99
I heard no more, I did not speak, I walked deep in my thoughts, my eyes fixed on his shade; the flames kept me from coming close to him.
102
At last my eyes were satisfied. And then I spoke, convincing him of my deep wish to serve him in whatever way I could.
105
He answered me: “What I just heard you say has made a deep impression on my mind, which even Lethe cannot wash away.
108
But if what you have told me is the truth, now tell me what it is that makes you show in words and looks this love you have for me?”
111
And I to him: “Those graceful poems of yours, which, for as long as our tongue serves for verse, will render precious even the ink you used. ”
114
“My brother, I can show you now, ” he said (he pointed to a spirit up ahead), “a better craftsman of his mother tongue.
117
94-95. The sons’ mother is Hypsipyle, wife of Jason, to whom she had borne two sons; she was captured by pirates and sold to Lycurgus, king of Nemea, who appointed her nurse of his infant son.
108. Lethe is the traditional river of oblivion, which we are soon to see at the summit of the mountain of Purgatory.
117. The craftsman is the Provencal poet Arnaut Daniel, who flourished between 1180 and ca. 1210. He is credited with the invention of the sestina, which Dante adopted, and he wrote in the obscure style of the trobar clus. He is also the author of some of the most pornographic poetry in Provencal literature.
Poets of love, writers of tales in prose— better than all of them he was! They’re fools who think him of Limoges a greater poet!
120
They judge by reputation, not by truth, their minds made up before they know the rules of reason and the principles of art.
123
Guittone was judged this way in the past; many praised him and him alone—though, now, most men have been won over to the truth.
126
But now, if that high privilege be yours of climbing to the cloister, there where Christ is Abbot of the holy college, then,
129
please say a Paternoster for me there—at least the part appropriate for us, who are by now delivered from all evil. ”
132
Then, to make room for someone else, perhaps, he disappeared into the depths of fire the way fish seeking deeper waters fade.
135
I moved up toward the shade just pointed out, and told him my desire had prepared a gracious place of welcome for his name.
138
He readily and graciously replied: “Tan m’abellis vostre cortes deman, Qu’ieu no me puesc no voill a vos cobrire.
141
120. The poet of Limoges is Guiraut de Bornellh (1175-1220), another famous Provençal poet, with a far simpler style than Arnaut Daniel’s.
133. Guinizelli, who has been on stage since line 16, now retreats farther into the flame.
140-147. “Your elegant request so pleases me, / I could not possibly conceal my name. / I am Arnaut, singing now through my tears, / regretfully recalling my past follies, / and joyfully anticipating joy. / I beg you, in the name of that great power / guiding you to the summit of the stairs, / remember, in good times, my suffering here. ”
Ieu sui Arnaut, que plor e vau cantan; consiros vei la passada folor, e vei jausen lo joi qu’esper, denan.
144
Ara vos prec, per aquella valor que vos guida al som de l’escalina, sovenha vos a temps de ma dolor!”
147
Then in the purifying flames he hid.
CANTO XXVII
THE SUN IS near setting when the poets leave the souls of the Lustful and encounter the angel of Chastity, singing the beatitude “Blessed are the Pure of Heart. ” The angel tells them that they can go no farther without passing through the flames, but, numbed with fear, the Pilgrim hesitates for a long time. Finally Virgil prevails upon him and they make the crossing through the excruciating heat. As they emerge on the other side, they hear the invitation “Come O ye blessed of my Fathe
r, ” and an angel exhorts them to climb as long as there is still daylight. But soon the sun sets and the poets are overcome by sleep. Toward morning the Pilgrim dreams of Leah and Rachel, who represent the active and contemplative lives, respectively. When he awakes, he is refreshed and eager and races up the remaining steps. In the last few lines Virgil describes the moral development achieved by the Pilgrim —such that he no longer needs his guidance. These are the last words that Virgil will speak in the poem.
It was the hour the sun’s first rays shine down upon the land where its Creator shed his own life’s blood, the hour the Ebro flows
3
1-6. The hour is six o’clock in the morning at Jerusalem, midnight at Spain (where the Ebro River is located), noon at India (through which the Ganges flows), and six o’clock in the evening at Purgatory.
beneath high Scales, and Ganges’ waters boil in noonday heat: so day was fading, then, when God’s angel of joy appeared to us.
6
Upon the bank beyond the fire’s reach he stood, singing Beati mundo corde! The living beauty of his voice rang clear.
9
Then: “Holy souls, no farther can you go without first suffering fire. So, enter now, and be not deaf to what is sung beyond, ”
12
he said to us as we came up to him. I, when I heard these words, felt like a man who is about to be entombed alive.
15
Gripping my hands together, I leaned forward and, staring at the fire, I recalled what human bodies look like burned to death.
18
Both of my friendly guides turned toward me then, and Virgil said to me: “O my dear son, there may be pain here, but there is no death.
21
Remember all your memories! If I took care of you when we rode Geryon, shall I do less when we are nearer God?
24
Believe me when I say that if you spent a thousand years within the fire’s heart, it would not singe a single hair of yours;
27
and if you still cannot believe my words, approach the fire and test it for yourself on your own robe: just touch it with the hem.
30
It’s time, high time, to put away your fears; turn towards me, come, and enter without fear!” But I stood there, immobile—and ashamed.
33
8. “Beati mundo corde” begins the last beatitude (Matthew 5:8), “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God. ”
He said, somewhat annoyed to see me fixed and stubborn there, “Now, don’t you see, my son: only this wall keeps you from Beatrice. ”
36
As Pyramus, about to die, heard Thisbe utter her name, he raised his eyes and saw her there, the day mulberries turned blood red—
39
just so, my stubbornness melted away: hearing the name which blooms eternally within my mind, I turned to my wise guide.
42
He shook his head and smiled, as at a child won over by an apple, as he said: “Well, then, what are we doing on this side?”
45
And, entering the flames ahead of me, he asked of Statius, who, for some time now had walked between us two, that he come last.
48
Once in the fire, I would have gladly jumped into the depths of boiling glass to find relief from that intensity of heat.
51
My loving father tried to comfort me, talking of Beatrice as we moved: “Already I can see her eyes, it seems!”
54
From somewhere else there came to us a voice, singing to guide us; listening to this, we emerged at last where the ascent begins.
57
Venite, benedicti Patris mei, came pouring from a radiance so bright, I was compelled to turn away my eyes.
60
Then, the voice said: “The sun is setting now and night is near; do not lose time, make haste before the west has given up its light. ”
63
The passageway cut straight up through the rock, at such an angle that my body blocked the sun’s last rays that fell upon my back.
66
We had not climbed up many steps when I and my two guides knew that the sun had set because my shadow had just disappeared.
69
Before the colors of the vast expanse of the horizon melted into one, and Night was in possession of the sky,
72
each of us chose a step to make his bed: the nature of the mountain took from us as much the power as the desire to climb.
75
Like goats first fast and frisky on the mount, before they stop their play to crop the grass, then settling down in ruminating calm,
78
quiet in the shade, free from the burning sun, watched by the shepherd leaning on his staff, protecting their repose; or yet again,
81
a herdsman who beds down beneath the sky, watching beside his peaceful flock all night, lest they be scattered by some beast of prey—
84
so were the three of us there on the stair: I was the goat, and they the shepherds, all shut in by walls of stone, this side and that.
87
Beyond that height little was visible, but through that little I could see the stars, larger, brighter than they appear to us.
90
While meditating, staring up at them, sleep overcame me—sleep, which often brings the knowledge of events before the fact.
93
At just about the hour when Cytherea, who always seems to burn with love’s own flames, first sent her eastern rays down on the mount,
96
I dreamed I saw a young and lovely girl walking within a meadow picking flowers; and, as she moved along, she sang these words:
99
“If anyone should want to know my name, I am called Leah. And I spend all my time weaving garlands of flowers with my fair hands,
102
to please me when I stand before my mirror; my sister Rachel sits all the day long before her own and never moves away.
105
She loves to contemplate her lovely eyes; I love to use my hands to adorn myself: her joy is in reflection, mine in act. ”
108
And now, before the splendor of the dawn (more welcomed by the homebound pilgrim now, the closer he awakes to home each day),
111
night’s shadows disappeared on every side; my sleep fled with them: I rose to my feet, for my great teachers were already up.
114
“That precious fruit which all men eagerly go searching for on many different boughs will give, today, peace to your hungry soul. ”
117
These were the words that Virgil spoke to me, and never was a more auspicious gift received, or given, with more joyfulness.
120
Growing desire, desire to be up there, was rising in me: with every step I took I felt my wings were growing for the flight.
123
Once the stairs, swiftly climbed, were all behind and we were standing on the topmost step, Virgil addressed me, fixing his eyes on mine:
126
100-108. The story of Leah and Rachel, the two daughters of Laban, is found in the Old Testament (Genesis 29:10-31). Leah was Jacob’s first wife. The fathers of the Church took the two women as symbols of the active and the contemplative life, respectively.
115. The fruit, which grows on many different branches, is the ideal happiness that mankind seeks in various ways.
“You now have seen, my son, the temporal and the eternal fire, you’ve reached the place where my discernment now has reached its end.
129
I led you here with skill and intellect; from here on, let your pleasure be your guide: the narrow ways, the steep, are far below.
132
Behold the sun shining upon your brow, behold the tender grass, the flowers, the trees, which, here, the earth produces of itself.
135
Until those lovely eyes rejoicing come, which,
tearful, once urged me to come to you, you may sit here, or wander, as you please.
138
Expect no longer words or signs from me. Now is your will upright, wholesome and free, and not to heed its pleasure would be wrong:
141
I crown and miter you lord of yourself!”
CANTO XXVIII
THE PILGRIM WANDERS in the heavenly forest until his path is blocked by a stream. On the other side of the stream he sees a lady singing and gathering flowers. At the Pilgrim’s request, she approaches him, and, smiling from the opposite bank, tells him that this forest is the Earthly Paradise, the Garden of Eden, whence sprang the human race. She explains that the constantly moving gentle breeze is due to the earth’s rotation, and she discusses the dissemination of plant life from the garden, carried on the moving air to all the lands of the earth. She further speaks of the two inexhaustible streams of the garden, Lethe and Eunoe, of which the former washes away all memory of sin and the latter restores the memory of good deeds. This lady, who, as yet, has not been named, concludes by telling the Pilgrim that the poets who sang of the Golden Age and of Parnassus perhaps had this place in mind.
127-128. The temporal fire is the fire of Purgatory: the purifying punishments of the mountain, including the wall of fire on the Seventh Terrace, which will disappear on the Judgment Day. The eternal fire is the fire of Hell.
Now eager to explore on every side the heavenly forest thick with living green, which made the bright new morning light more soft,
3
without delay I left the bank behind and slowly made my way across the plain, whose soil gave its own fragrance to the air.
6
My forehead felt the stirring of sweet air, whose flowing rhythm always stayed the same, and struck no harder than the gentlest breeze;
9
and, in the constant, moving air, each branch with trembling leaves was bending to one side toward where the holy mount first casts its shade;
12
they did not curve so sharply toward the ground that little birds among the topmost leaves could not continue practicing their art:
15
they welcomed in full-throated joyful sound the day’s beginning to their leafy boughs whose soughing sound accompanied their song—