Dante Alighieri (1265–1321). The Divine Comedy.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Paradise
Canto IX AA
O fair Clemenza, of the treachery spake,
That must befal his seed; but, “Tell it not,”
Said he, “and let the destined years come round.”
Nor may I tell thee more, save that the meed
Of sorrow well-deserved shall quit your wrongs.
And now the visage of that saintly light
Was to the sun, that fills it, turn’d again,
As to the good, whose plenitude of bliss
Sufficeth all. O ye misguided souls!
Infatuate, who from such a good estrange
Your hearts, and bend your gaze on vanity,
Alas for you!—And lo! toward me, next,
Another of those splendent forms approach’d,
That, by its outward brightening, testified
The will it had to pleasure me. The eyes
Of Beatrice, resting, as before,
Firmly, upon me, manifested forth
Approval of my wish. “And O,” I cried,
“Blest spirit! quickly be my will perform’d;
And prove thou to me, that my inmost thoughts
I can reflect on thee.” Thereat the light,
That yet was new to me, from the recess,
Where it before was singing, thus began,
As one who joys in kindness: “In that part
Of the depraved Italian land, which lies
Between Rialto and the fountain springs
Of Brenta and of Piava, there doth rise,
But to no lofty eminence, a hill,
From whence erewhile a firebrand did descend,
That sorely shent the region. From one root
I and it sprang; my name on earth Cunizza:
And here I glitter, for that by its light
This star o’ercame me. Yet I naught repine,
Nor grudge myself the cause of this my lot:
Which haply vulgar hearts can scarce conceive.
“This jewel, that is next me in our Heaven,
Lustrous and costly, great renown hath left,
And not to perish, ere these hundred years
Five times absolve their round. Consider thou,
If to excel be worthy man’s endeavour,
When such life may attend the first. Yet they
Care not for this, the crowd that now are girt
By Adice and Tagliamento, still
Impenitent, though scourged. The hour is near
When for their stubbornness, at Padua’s marsh
The water shall be changed, that laves Vicenza.
And where Cagnano meets with Sile, one
Lords it, and bears his head aloft, for whom
The web is now a-warping. Feltro too
Shall sorrow for its godless shepherd’s fault,
Of so deep stain, that never, for the like,
Was Malta’s bar unclosed. Too large should be
The skillet that would hold Ferrara’s blood,
And wearied he, who ounce by ounce would weigh it,
The which this priest, in show of party-zeal,
Courteous will give; nor will the gift ill suit
The country’s custom. We descry above
Mirrors, ye call them Thrones, from which to us
Reflected shine the judgments of our God:
Whence these our sayings we avouch for good.”
She ended; and appear’d on other thoughts
Intent, re-entering on the wheel she late
Had left. That other joyance meanwhile wax’d
A thing to marvel at, in splendour glowing,
Like choicest ruby stricken by the sun.
For, in that upper clime, effulgence comes
Of gladness, as here laughter: and below,
As the mind saddens, murkier grows the shade.
“God seeth all: and in Him is thy sight,”
Said I, “blest spirit! Therefore will of His
Cannot to thee be dark. Why then delays
Thy voice to satisfy my wish untold;
That voice, which joins the inexpressive song,
Pastime of Heaven, the which those Ardours sing,
That cowl them with six shadowing wings outspread?
I would not wait thy asking, wert thou known
To me, as thoroughly I to thee am known.”
He, forthwith answering, thus, his words began:
“The valley of waters, widest next to that
Which doth the earth engarland, shapes its course,
Between discordant shores, against the sun
Inward so far, it makes meridian there,
Where was before the horizon. Of that vale
Dwelt I upon the shore, ’twixt Ebro’s stream
And Macra’s, that divides with passage brief
Genoan bounds from Tuscan. East and west
Are nearly one to Begga and my land
Whose haven erst was with its own blood warm.
Who knew my name, were wont to call me Folco;
And I did bear impression of this Heaven,
That now bears mine: for not with fiercer flame
Glow’d Belus’ daughter, injuring alike
Sichæus and Creusa, than did I,
Long as it suited the unripen’d down
That fledged my cheek; nor she of Rhodope,
That was beguiled of Demophoon;
Nor Jove’s son, when the charms of Iole
Were shrined within his heart. And yet there bides
No sorrowful repentance here, but mirth,
Not for the fault, (that doth not come to mind,)
But for the virtue, whose o’erruling sway
And providence have wrought thus quaintly. Here
The skill is look’d into, that fashioneth
With such effectual working, and the good
Discern’d, accruing to the lower world
From this above, But fully to content
Thy wishes all that in this sphere have birth,
Demands my further parle. Inquire thou wouldst,
Who of this light is denizen, that here
Beside me sparkles, as the sunbeam doth
On the clear wave. Know then, the soul of Rahab
Is in that gladsome harbour; to our tribe
United, and the foremost rank assign’d.
She to this Heaven, at which the shadow ends
Of your sublunar world, was taken up,
First, in Christ’s triumph, of all soul redeem’d:
For well behoved, that, in some part of Heaven,
She should remain a trophy, to declare
The mighty conquest won with either palm;
For that she favour’d first the high exploit
Of Joshua on the Holy Land, whereof
The Pope recks little now. Thy city, plant
Of him, that on his Maker turn’d the back,
And of whose envying so much woe hath sprung,
Engenders and expands the cursed flower,
That hath made wander both the sheep and lambs,
Turning the shepherd to a wolf. For this,
The Gospel and great teachers laid aside,
The decretals, as their stuff margins show,
Are the sole study. Pope and Cardinals,
Intent on these, ne’er journey but in thought
To Nazareth, where Gabriel oped his wings.
Yet it may chance, ere long, the Vatican,
And other most selected parts of Rome,
That were the grave of Peter’s soldiery,
Shall be deliver’d from the adulterous bond.”