CANTO IINow was the day departing, and the air,Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils releas’dAll animals on earth; and I alonePrepar’d myself the conflict to sustain,Both of sad pity, and that perilous road,Which my unerring memory shall retrace.O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafeYour aid! O mind! that all I saw hast keptSafe in a written record, here thy worthAnd eminent endowments come to proof.I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide,Consider well, if virtue be in meSufficient, ere to this high enterpriseThou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire,Yet cloth’d in corruptible flesh, amongTh’ immortal tribes had entrance, and was thereSensible present. Yet if heaven’s great Lord,Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew’d,In contemplation of the high effect,Both what and who from him should issue forth,It seems in reason’s judgment well deserv’d:Sith he of Rome, and of Rome’s empire wide,In heaven’s empyreal height was chosen sire:Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’dAnd ’stablish’d for the holy place, where sitsWho to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds.He from this journey, in thy song renown’d,Learn’d things, that to his victory gave riseAnd to the papal robe. In after-timesThe chosen vessel also travel’d there,To bring us back assurance in that faith,Which is the entrance to salvation’s way.But I, why should I there presume? or whoPermits it? not Aeneas I nor Paul.Myself I deem not worthy, and none elseWill deem me. I, if on this voyage thenI venture, fear it will in folly end.Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st,Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolvesWhat he hath late resolv’d, and with new thoughtsChanges his purpose, from his first intentRemov’d; e’en such was I on that dun coast,Wasting in thought my enterprise, at firstSo eagerly embrac’d. “If right thy wordsI scan,” replied that shade magnanimous,“Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oftSo overcasts a man, that he recoilsFrom noblest resolution, like a beastAt some false semblance in the twilight gloom.That from this terror thou mayst free thyself,I will instruct thee why I came, and whatI heard in that same instant, when for theeGrief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe,Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blestAnd lovely, I besought her to command,Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the starOf day; and she with gentle voice and softAngelically tun’d her speech address’d:“O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fameYet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts!A friend, not of my fortune but myself,On the wide desert in his road has metHindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d.Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d,And I be ris’n too late for his relief,From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now,And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue,And by all means for his deliverance meet,Assist him. So to me will comfort spring.I who now bid thee on this errand forthAm Beatrice; from a place I come.(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it ispronounced in the Italian, as consisting of foursyllables, of which the third is a long one.) Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence,Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sightI stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.”She then was silent, and I thus began:“O Lady! by whose influence alone,Mankind excels whatever is contain’dWithin that heaven which hath the smallest orb,So thy command delights me, that to obey,If it were done already, would seem late.No need hast thou farther to speak thy will;Yet tell the reason, why thou art not lothTo leave that ample space, where to returnThou burnest, for this centre here beneath.”She then: “Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire,I will instruct thee briefly, why no dreadHinders my entrance here. Those things aloneAre to be fear’d, whence evil may proceed,None else, for none are terrible beside.I am so fram’d by God, thanks to his grace!That any suff’rance of your miseryTouches me not, nor flame of that fierce fireAssails me. In high heaven a blessed dameBesides, who mourns with such effectual griefThat hindrance, which I send thee to remove,That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines.”To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake:“Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aidAnd I commend him to thee.” At her wordSped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe,And coming to the place, where I abodeSeated with Rachel, her of ancient days,She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God!Beatrice! why is not thy succour lentTo him, who so much lov’d thee, as to leaveFor thy sake all the multitude admires?Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?”Ne’er among men did any with such speedHaste to their profit, flee from their annoy,As when these words were spoken, I came here,Down from my blessed seat, trusting the forceOf thy pure eloquence, which thee, and allWho well have mark’d it, into honour brings.”“When she had ended, her bright beaming eyesTearful she turn’d aside; whereat I feltRedoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d,Thus am I come: I sav’d thee from the beast,Who thy near way across the goodly mountPrevented. What is this comes o’er thee then?Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breastHarbour vile fear? why hast not courage thereAnd noble daring? Since three maids so blestThy safety plan, e’en in the court of heaven;And so much certain good my words forebode.”As florets, by the frosty air of nightBent down and clos’d, when day has blanch’d their leaves,Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;So was my fainting vigour new restor’d,And to my heart such kindly courage ran,That I as one undaunted soon replied:“O full of pity she, who undertookMy succour! and thou kind who didst performSo soon her true behest! With such desireThou hast dispos’d me to renew my voyage,That my first purpose fully is resum’d.Lead on: one only will is in us both.Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord.”So spake I; and when he had onward mov’d,I enter’d on the deep and woody way.
Now was the day departing, and the air,Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils releas’dAll animals on earth; and I alonePrepar’d myself the conflict to sustain,Both of sad pity, and that perilous road,Which my unerring memory shall retrace.O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafeYour aid! O mind! that all I saw hast keptSafe in a written record, here thy worthAnd eminent endowments come to proof.I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide,Consider well, if virtue be in meSufficient, ere to this high enterpriseThou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire,Yet cloth’d in corruptible flesh, amongTh’ immortal tribes had entrance, and was thereSensible present. Yet if heaven’s great Lord,Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew’d,In contemplation of the high effect,Both what and who from him should issue forth,It seems in reason’s judgment well deserv’d:Sith he of Rome, and of Rome’s empire wide,In heaven’s empyreal height was chosen sire:Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’dAnd ’stablish’d for the holy place, where sitsWho to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds.He from this journey, in thy song renown’d,Learn’d things, that to his victory gave riseAnd to the papal robe. In after-timesThe chosen vessel also travel’d there,To bring us back assurance in that faith,Which is the entrance to salvation’s way.But I, why should I there presume? or whoPermits it? not Aeneas I nor Paul.Myself I deem not worthy, and none elseWill deem me. I, if on this voyage thenI venture, fear it will in folly end.Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st,Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolvesWhat he hath late resolv’d, and with new thoughtsChanges his purpose, from his first intentRemov’d; e’en such was I on that dun coast,Wasting in thought my enterprise, at firstSo eagerly embrac’d. “If right thy wordsI scan,” replied that shade magnanimous,“Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oftSo overcasts a man, that he recoilsFrom noblest resolution, like a beastAt some false semblance in the twilight gloom.That from this terror thou mayst free thyself,I will instruct thee why I came, and whatI heard in that same instant, when for theeGrief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe,Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blestAnd lovely, I besought her to command,Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the starOf day; and she with gentle voice and softAngelically tun’d her speech address’d:“O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fameYet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts!A friend, not of my fortune but myself,On the wide desert in his road has metHindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d.Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d,And I be ris’n too late for his relief,From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now,And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue,And by all means for his deliverance meet,Assist him. So to me will comfort spring.I who now bid thee on this errand forthAm Beatrice; from a place I come.
(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it ispronounced in the Italian, as consisting of foursyllables, of which the third is a long one.) Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence,Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sightI stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.”She then was silent, and I thus began:“O Lady! by whose influence alone,Mankind excels whatever is contain’dWithin that heaven which hath the smallest orb,So thy command delights me, that to obey,If it were done already, would seem late.No need hast thou farther to speak thy will;Yet tell the reason, why thou art not lothTo leave that ample space, where to returnThou burnest, for this centre here beneath.”She then: “Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire,I will instruct thee briefly, why no dreadHinders my entrance here. Those things aloneAre to be fear’d, whence evil may proceed,None else, for none are terrible beside.I am so fram’d by God, thanks to his grace!That any suff’rance of your miseryTouches me not, nor flame of that fierce fireAssails me. In high heaven a blessed dameBesides, who mourns with such effectual griefThat hindrance, which I send thee to remove,That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines.”To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake:“Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aidAnd I commend him to thee.” At her wordSped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe,And coming to the place, where I abodeSeated with Rachel, her of ancient days,She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God!Beatrice! why is not thy succour lentTo him, who so much lov’d thee, as to leaveFor thy sake all the multitude admires?Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?”Ne’er among men did any with such speedHaste to their profit, flee from their annoy,As when these words were spoken, I came here,Down from my blessed seat, trusting the forceOf thy pure eloquence, which thee, and allWho well have mark’d it, into honour brings.”“When she had ended, her bright beaming eyesTearful she turn’d aside; whereat I feltRedoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d,Thus am I come: I sav’d thee from the beast,Who thy near way across the goodly mountPrevented. What is this comes o’er thee then?Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breastHarbour vile fear? why hast not courage thereAnd noble daring? Since three maids so blestThy safety plan, e’en in the court of heaven;And so much certain good my words forebode.”As florets, by the frosty air of nightBent down and clos’d, when day has blanch’d their leaves,Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;So was my fainting vigour new restor’d,And to my heart such kindly courage ran,That I as one undaunted soon replied:“O full of pity she, who undertookMy succour! and thou kind who didst performSo soon her true behest! With such desireThou hast dispos’d me to renew my voyage,That my first purpose fully is resum’d.Lead on: one only will is in us both.Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord.”So spake I; and when he had onward mov’d,I enter’d on the deep and woody way.