"Wonder not if thou seest me change colour. Thou wilt see, while I

speak, all which is round about us colour in like manner. He who usurps

my place on earth,--_my_ place, I say,--ay, _mine_,--which before God is

now vacant,--has converted the city in which my dust lies buried into a

common-sewer of filth and blood; so that the fiend who fell from hence

rejoices himself down there."

At these words of the Apostle the whole face of Heaven was covered with

a blush, red as dawn or sunset; and Beatrice changed colour, like a

maiden that shrinks in alarm from the report of blame in another. The

eclipse was like that which took place when the Supreme died upon the

Cross.

Saint Peter resumed with a voice not less awfully changed than his

appearance:

"Not for the purpose of being sold for money was the spouse of Christ

fed and nourished with my blood, and with the blood of Linus,--the blood

of Cletus. Sextus did not bleed for it, nor Pius, nor Callixtus, nor

Urban; men, for whose deaths all Christendom wept. They died that souls

might be innocent and go to Heaven. Never was it intention of ours, that

the sitters in the holy chair should divide one half of Christendom

against the other; should turn my keys into ensigns of war against the

faithful; and stamp my very image upon mercenary and lying documents,

which make me, here in Heaven, blush and turn cold to think of. Arm

of God, why sleepest thou? Men out of Gascony and Cahors are even

now making ready to drink our blood. O lofty beginning, to what vile

conclusion must thou come! But the high Providence, which made Scipio

the sustainer of the Roman sovereignty of the world, will fail not its

timely succour. And thou, my son, that for weight of thy mortal clothing

must again descend to earth, see thou that thou openest thy mouth, and

hidest not from others what has not been hidden from thyself."

As white and thick as the snows go streaming athwart the air when the

sun is in Capricorn, so the angelical spirits that had been gathered in

the air of Saturn streamed away after the Apostle, as he turned with the

other saints to depart; and the eyes of Dante followed them till they

became viewless.[49]

The divine eyes of Beatrice recalled him to herself; and at the same

instant the two companions found themselves in the ninth Heaven or

_Primum Mobile_, the last of the material Heavens, and the mover of

those beneath it.

[Footnote 49: In spite of the unheavenly nature of invective, of

something of a lurking conceit in the making an eclipse out of a blush,

and in the positive bathos, and I fear almost indecent irrelevancy of

the introduction of Beatrice at all on such an occasion, much more under

the feeble aspect of one young lady blushing for another,--this scene

altogether is a very grand one; and the violence itself of the holy

invective awful.

Here he had a glimpse of the divine essence, in likeness of a point of

inconceivably sharp brightness enringed with the angelic hierarchies.

All earth, and heaven, and nature, hung from it. Beatrice explained

many mysteries to him connected with that sight; and then vehemently

denounced the false and foolish teachers that quit the authority of the

Bible for speculations of their own, and degrade the preaching of the

gospel with ribald jests, and legends of Saint Anthony and his pig.[50]

Returning, however, to more celestial thoughts, her face became so full

of beauty, that Dante declares he must cease to endeavour to speak of

it, and that he doubts whether the sight can ever be thoroughly enjoyed

by any save its Maker.[51] Her look carried him upward as before, and

he was now in the Empyrean, or region of Pure Light;--of light made of

intellect full of love; love of truth, full of joy; joy, transcendant

above all sweetness.

Streams of living radiance came rushing and flashing round about him,

swathing him with light, as the lightning sometimes enwraps and dashes

against the blinded eyes; but the light was love here, and instead of

injuring, gave new power to the object it embraced.

With this new infusion of strength into his organs of vision, Dante

looked, and saw a vast flood of it, effulgent with flashing splendours,

and pouring down like a river between banks painted with the loveliest

flowers. Fiery living sparkles arose from it on all sides, and pitched

themselves into the cups of the flowers, where they remained awhile,

like rubies set in gold; till inebriated with the odours, they recast

themselves into the bosom of the flood; and ever as one returned,

another leaped forth. Beatrice bade him dip his eyes into the light,

that he might obtain power to see deeper into its nature; for the river,

and the jewels that sprang out of it to and fro, and the laughing

flowers on the banks, were themselves but shadows of the truth which

they included; not, indeed, in their essential selves, but inasmuch as

without further assistance the beholder's eyes could not see them as

they were. Dante rushed to the stream as eagerly as the lips of an

infant to the breast, when it has slept beyond its time; and his

eyelashes had no sooner touched it, than the length of the river became

a breadth and a circle, and its real nature lay unveiled before him,

like a face when a mask is taken off. It was the whole two combined

courts of Heaven, the angelical and the human, in circumference larger

than would hold the sun, and all blazing beneath a light, which was

reflected downwards in its turn upon the sphere of the Primum Mobile

below it, the mover of the universe. And as a green cliff by the water's

side seems to delight in seeing itself reflected from head to foot with

all its verdure and its flowers; so, round about on all sides, upon

thousands of thrones, the blessed spirits that once lived on earth sat

beholding themselves in the light. And yet even all these together

formed but the lowest part of the spectacle, which ascended above them,

tier upon tier, in the manner of an immeasurable rose,--all dilating

itself, doubling still and doubling, and all odorous with the praises

of an ever-vernal sun. Into the base of it, as into the yellow of the

flower, with a dumb glance that yet promised to speak, Beatrice drew

forward her companion, and said, "Behold the innumerable assemblage of

the white garments! Behold our city, how large its circuit! Behold our

seats, which are, nevertheless, so full, that few comers are wanted to

fill them! On that lofty one at which thou art looking, surmounted with

the crown, and which shall be occupied before thou joinest this bridal

feast, shall be seated the soul of the great Henry, who would fain set

Italy right before she is prepared for it.[52] The blind waywardness of

which ye are sick renders ye like the bantling who, while he is dying of

hunger, kicks away his nurse. And Rome is governed by one that cannot

walk in the same path with such a man, whatever be the road.[53] But God

will not long endure him. He will be thrust down into the pit with Simon

Magus; and his feet, when he arrives there, will thrust down the man of

Alagna still lower.[54]"

In the form, then, of a white rose the blessed multitude of human souls

lay manifest before the eyes of the poet; and now he observed, that the

winged portion of the blest, the angels, who fly up with their wings

nearer to Him that fills them with love, came to and fro upon the rose

like bees; now descending into its bosom, now streaming back to the

source of their affection. Their faces were all fire, their wings

golden, their garments whiter than snow. Whenever they descended on

the flower, they went from fold to fold, fanning their loins, and

communicating the peace and ardour which they gathered as they gave.

Dante beheld all,--every flight and action of the whole winged

multitude,--without let or shadow; for he stood in the region of light

itself, and light has no obstacle where it is deservedly vouchsafed.

"Oh," cries the poet, "if the barbarians that came from the north stood

dumb with amazement to behold the magnificence of Rome, thinking they

saw unearthly greatness in the Lateran, what must I have thought, who

had thus come from human to divine, from time to eternity, from the

people of Florence to beings just and sane?"

Dante stood, without a wish either to speak or to hear. He felt like a

pilgrim who has arrived within the place of his devotion, and who looks

round about him, hoping some day to relate what he sees. He gazed

upwards and downwards, and on every side round about, and saw movements

graceful with every truth of innocence, and faces full of loving

persuasion, rich in their own smiles and in the light of the smiles of

others.

He turned to Beatrice, but she was gone;--gone, as a messenger from

herself told him, to resume her seat in the blessed rose, which the

messenger accordingly pointed out. She sat in the third circle from the

top, as far from Dante as the bottom of the sea is from the region of

thunder; and yet he saw her as plainly as if she had been close at hand.

He addressed words to her of thanks for all she had done for him, and

a hope for her assistance after death; and she looked down at him and

smiled.

The messenger was St. Bernard. He bade the poet lift his eyes higher;

and Dante beheld the Virgin Mary sitting above the rose, in the centre

of an intense redness of light, like another dawn. Thousands of angels

were hanging buoyant around her, each having its own distinct splendour

and adornment, and all were singing, and expressing heavenly mirth; and

she smiled on them with such loveliness, that joy was in the eyes of all

the blessed.

At Mary's feet was sitting Eve, beautiful--she that opened the wound

which Mary closed; and at the feet of Eve was Rachel, with Beatrice; and

at the feet of Rachel was Sarah, and then Judith, then Rebecca, then

Ruth, ancestress of him out of whose penitence came the song of the

Miserere;[55] and so other Hebrew women, down all the gradations of the

flower, dividing, by the line which they made, the Christians who lived

before Christ from those who lived after; a line which, on the opposite

side of the rose, was answered by a similar one of Founders of the

Church, at the top of whom was John the Baptist. The rose also was

divided horizontally by a step which projected beyond the others, and

underneath which, known by the childishness of their looks and voices,

were the souls of such as were too young to have attained Heaven by

assistance of good works.

St. Bernard then directed his companion to look again at the Virgin, and

gather from her countenance the power of beholding the face of Christ as

God. Her aspect was flooded with gladness from the spirits around her;

while the angel who had descended to her on earth now hailed her above

with "Ave, Maria!" singing till the whole host of Heaven joined in

the song. St. Bernard then prayed to her for help to his companion's

eyesight. Beatrice, with others of the blest, was seen joining in the

prayer, their hands stretched upwards; and the Virgin, after benignly

looking on the petitioners, gazed upwards herself, shewing the way with

her own eyes to the still greater vision. Dante then looked also, and

beheld what he had no words to speak, or memory to endure.

He awoke as from a dream, retaining only a sense of sweetness that ever

trickled to his heart.

Earnestly praying afterwards, however, that grace might be so far

vouchsafed to a portion of his recollection, as to enable him to convey

to his fellow-creatures one smallest glimpse of the glory of what he

saw, his ardour was so emboldened by help of the very mystery at whose

sight he must have perished had he faltered, that his eyes, unblasted,

attained to a perception of the Sum of Infinitude. He beheld,

concentrated in one spot--written in one volume of Love--all which is

diffused, and can become the subject of thought and study throughout the

universe--all substance and accident and mode--all so compounded that

they become one light. He thought he beheld at one and the same time

the oneness of this knot, and the universality of all which it implies;

because, when it came to his recollection, his heart dilated, and in the

course of one moment he felt ages of impatience to speak of it.

But thoughts as well as words failed him; and though ever afterwards he

could no more cease to yearn towards it, than he could take defect for

completion, or separate the idea of happiness from the wish to attain

it, still the utmost he could say of what he remembered would fall as

short of right speech as the sounds of an infant's tongue while it is

murmuring over the nipple; for the more he had looked at that light,

the more he found in it to amaze him, so that his brain toiled with

the succession of the astonishments. He saw, in the deep but clear

self-subsistence, three circles of three different colours of the same

breadth, one of them reflecting one of the others as rainbow does

rainbow, and the third consisting of a fire equally breathing from

both.[56]

O eternal Light! thou that dwellest in thyself alone, thou alone

understandest thyself, and art by thyself understood, and, so

understanding, thou laughest at thyself, and lovest.

The second, or reflected circle, as it went round, seemed to be painted

by its own colours with the likeness of a human face.[57]

But how this was done, or how the beholder was to express it, threw

his mind into the same state of bewilderment as the mathematician

experiences when he vainly pores over the circle to discover the

principle by which he is to square it.

He did, however, in a manner discern it. A flash of light was vouchsafed

him for the purpose; but the light left him no power to impart the

discernment; nor did he feel any longer impatient for the gift. Desire

became absorbed in submission, moving in as smooth unison as the

particles of a wheel, with the Love that is the mover of the sun and the

stars.[58]

[Footnote 1: A curious and happy image.

"Tornan de' nostri visi le postille

Debili sì, che perla in bianca fronte

Non vien men tosto a le nostre pupille:

Tali vid' io più facce a parlar pronte." ]

[Footnote 2: "Rodolfo da Tossignano, _Hist. Seraph. Relig._ P. i. p.

138, as cited by Lombardi, relates the following legend of Piccarda:

'Her brother Corso, inflamed with rage against his virgin sister,

having joined with him Farinata, an infamous assassin, and twelve other

abandoned ruffians, entered the monastery by a ladder, and carried

away his sister forcibly to his own house; and then, tearing off her

religious habit, compelled her to go in a secular garment to her

nuptials. Before the spouse of Christ came together with her new

husband, she knelt down before a crucifix, and recommended her virginity

to Christ. Soon after, her whole body was smitten with leprosy, so as

to strike grief and horror into the beholders; and thus, in a few days,

through the divine disposal, she passed with a palm of virginity to the

Lord. Perhaps (adds the worthy Franciscan), our poet not being able to

certify himself entirely of this occurrence, has chosen to pass it over

discreetly, by making Piccarda say, 'God knows how, after that, my life

was framed.'"--_Cary_, ut sup. p. 137.]

[Footnote 3: A lovely simile indeed.

"Tanto lieta

Ch' arder parea d'amor nel primo foco."

[Footnote 4: Costanza, daughter of Ruggieri, king of Sicily, thus taken

out of the monastery, was mother to the Emperor Frederick the Second.

"She was fifty years old or more at the time" (says Mr. Cary, quoting

from Muratori and others); "and because it was not credited that she

could have a child at that age, she was delivered in a pavilion; and it

was given out, that any lady who pleased was at liberty to see her. Many

came and saw her, and the suspicion ceased."--_Translation of Dante_, ut

sup. p. 137.]

[Footnote 5: Probably an allusion to Dante's own wanderings.]

[Footnote 6:

"Hosanna Sanctus Deus Sabaoth

Superillustrans claritate tuâ

Felices ignes horum Malahoth."

_Malahoth_; Hebrew, _kingdoms_.]

[Footnote 7: The epithet is not too strong, as will be seen by the

nature of the inhabitants.]

[Footnote 8: Charles Martel, son of the king of Naples and Sicily, and

crowned king of Hungary, seems to have become acquainted with Dante

during the poet's youth, when the prince met his royal father in the

city of Florence. He was brother of Robert, who succeeded the father,

and who was the friend of Petrarch.

"The adventures of Cunizza, overcome by the influence of her star," says

Cary, "are related by the chronicler Rolandino of Padua, lib. i. cap. 3,

in Muratori, Rer. Ital. Script. tom. viii. p. 173. She eloped from her

first husband, Richard of St. Boniface, in the company of Sordello (see

Purg. canto vi. and vii.); with whom she is supposed to have cohabited

before her marriage: then lived with a soldier of Trevigi, whose wife

was living at the same time in the same city; and, on his being murdered

by her brother the tyrant, was by her brother married to a nobleman of

Braganzo: lastly, when he also had fallen by the same hand, she, after

her brother's death, was again wedded in Verona."--_Translation of

Dante_, ut sup. p. 147. See what Foscolo says of her in the _Discorso

sul Testo_, p. 329.

Folco, the gallant Troubadour, here placed between Cunizza and Rahab,

is no other than Folques, bishop of Thoulouse, the persecutor of the

Albigenses. It is of him the brutal anecdote is related, that, being

asked, during an indiscriminate attack on that people, how the orthodox

and heterodox were to be distinguished, he said, "Kill all: God will

know his own."

For Rahab, see _Joshua_, chap. ii. and vi.; and _Hebrews_. xi. 31]

[Footnote 9: The reader need not be required to attend to the

extraordinary theological disclosures in the whole of the preceding

passage, nor yet to consider how much more they disclose, than theology

or the poet might have desired.]

[Footnote 10: These fifteen personages are chiefly theologians and

schoolmen, whose names and obsolete writings are, for the most part, no

longer worth mention. The same may be said of the band that comes after

them.

Dante should not have set them dancing. It is impossible (every

respectfulness of endeavour notwithstanding) to maintain the gravity

of one's imagination at the thought of a set of doctors of the Church,

Venerable Bede included, wheeling about in giddy rapture like so many

dancing dervises, and keeping time to their ecstatic anilities with

voices tinkling like church-clocks. You may invest them with as much

light or other blessed indistinctness as you please; the beards and the

old ages will break through. In vain theologians may tell us that our

imaginations are not exalted enough. The answer (if such a charge must

be gravely met) is, that Dante's whole Heaven itself is not exalted

enough, how ever wonderful and beautiful in parts. The schools, and the

forms of Catholic worship, held even his imagination down. There is

more heaven in one placid idea of love than in all these dances and

tinklings.]

[Footnote 11:

"Benigno a' suoi, ed a' nimici crudo."

Cruel indeed;--the founder of the Inquisition! The "loving minion"

is Mr. Cary's excellent translation of "_amoroso drudo_." But what a

minion, and how loving! With fire and sword and devilry, and no wish (of

course) to thrust his own will and pleasure, and bad arguments, down

other people's throats! St. Dominic was a Spaniard. So was Borgia.

So was Philip the Second. There seems to have been an inherent

semi-barbarism in the character of Spain, which it has never got rid of

to this day. If it were not for Cervantes, and some modern patriots, it

would hardly appear to belong to the right European community. Even

Lope de Vega was an inquisitor; and Mendoza, the entertaining author of

Lazarillo de Tormes, a cruel statesman. Cervantes, however, is enough to

sweeten a whole peninsula.]

[Footnote 12: What a pity the reporter of this advice had not humility

enough to apply it to himself!]

[Footnote 13:

"O sanguis meus, o superinfusa

Gratia Dei, sicut tibi, cui

Bis unquam coeli janua reclusa?"

The spirit says this in Latin, as if to veil the compliment to the poet

in "the obscurity of a learned language." And in truth it is a little

strong.]

[Footnote 14:

"Che dentro a gli occhi suoi ardeva un riso

Tal, ch' io pensai co' miei toccar lo fondo

De la mia grazia e del mio Paradiso."

That is, says Lombardi, "I thought my eyes could not possibly be more

favoured and imparadised" (Pensai che non potessero gli occhi miei

essere graziati ed imparadisati maggiormente)--_Variorum edition of

Dante_, Padua, 1822, vol. iii. p. 373.]

[Footnote 15: Here ensues the famous description of those earlier times

in Florence, which Dante eulogises at the expense of his own. See the

original passage, with another version, in the Appendix.]

[Footnote 16: Bellincion Berti was a noble Florentine, of the house of

the Ravignani. Cianghella is said to have been an abandoned woman,

of manners as shameless as her morals. Lapo Salterelli, one of the

co-exiles of Dante, and specially hated by him, was a personage who

appears to have exhibited the rare combination of judge and fop. An old

commentator, in recording his attention to his hair, seems to intimate

that Dante alludes to it in contrasting him with Cincinnatus. If so,

Lapo might have reminded the poet of what Cicero says of his beloved

Cæsar;--that he once saw him scratching the top of his head with the tip

of his finger, that he might not discompose the locks.]

[Footnote 17:

"Chi ei si furo, e onde venner quivi,

Più è tacer che ragionare onesto."

Some think Dante was ashamed to speak of these ancestors, from the

lowness of their origin; others that he did not choose to make them a

boast, for the height of it. I suspect, with Lombardi, from his general

character, and from the willingness he has avowed to make such boasts

(see the opening of canto xvi., Paradise, in the original), that while

he claimed for them a descent from the Romans (see Inferno, canto

xv. 73, &c.), he knew them to be] poor in fortune, perhaps of humble

condition. What follows, in the text of our abstract, about the purity

of the old Florentine blood, even in the veins of the humblest mechanic,

may seem to intimate some corroboration of this; and is a curious

specimen of republican pride and scorn. This horror of one's neighbours

is neither good Christianity, nor surely any very good omen of that

Italian union, of which "Young Italy" wishes to think Dante such a

harbinger.

All this too, observe, is said in the presence of a vision of Christ on

the Cross!]

[Footnote 18: The _Column, Verrey_ (vair, variegated, checkered with

argent and azure), and the _Balls_ or (Palle d'oro), were arms of old

families. I do not trouble the reader with notes upon mere family-names,

of which nothing else is recorded.]

[Footnote 19: An allusion, apparently acquiescent, to the superstitious

popular opinion that the peace of Florence was bound up with the statue

of Mars on the old bridge, at the base of which Buondelmonte was slain.

With this Buondelmonte the dissensions in Florence were supposed to have

first begun. Macchiavelli's account of him is, that he was about to

marry a young lady of the Amidei family, when a widow of one of the

Donati, who had designed her own daughter for him, contrived that

he should see her; the consequence of which was, that he broke his

engagement, and was assassinated. _Historie Fiorentine_, lib. ii.]

[Footnote 20:

"Tu lascerai ogni cosa diletta

Più caramente; e questo e quello strale

Che l'arco de l'esilio pria saetta.

Tu proverai sì come sa di sale

Lo pane altrui, e com'è duro calle

Lo scendere e 'l salir per l'altrui scale.

E quel che più ti graverà le spalle,

Sarà la compagnia malvagia e scempia

Con la qual tu cadrai in questa valle:

Che tutta ingrata, tutta matta ed empia

Si farà contra te: ma poco appresso

Ella, non tu, n'avrà rossa la tempia.

Di sua bestialitate il suo processo

Farà la pruova, sì ch' a te fia bello

Averti fatta parte per te stesso."

[Footnote 21: The Roman eagle. These are the arms of the Scaligers of

Verona.]

[Footnote 22: A prophecy of the renown of Can Grande della Scala, who

had received Dante at his court.]

[Footnote 23: "Letizia era ferza del paléo"]

Stories from the Italian Poets: with Lives of the Writers, Volume 1 · 第 14 / 22 段