The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (10 best books of all time txt) đ
- Author: Dante Alighieri
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No sooner lifted I mine aspect up, Than downward sunk that vision I beheld Of goodly creatures vanish; and mine eyes Yet unassurâd and wavering, bent their light On Beatrice. Towards the animal,
Who joins two natures in one form, she turnâd, And, even under shadow of her veil, And parted by the verdant rill, that flowâd Between, in loveliness appearâd as much Her former self surpassing, as on earth All others she surpassâd. Remorseful goads Shot sudden through me. Each thing else, the more Its love had late beguilâd me, now the more I Was loathsome. On my heart so keenly smote The bitter consciousness, that on the ground Oâerpowerâd I fell: and what my state was then, She knows who was the cause. When now my strength Flowâd back, returning outward from the heart, The lady, whom alone I first had seen, I found above me. âLoose me not,â she cried: âLoose not thy hold;â and lo! had draggâd me high As to my neck into the stream, while she, Still as she drew me after, swept along, Swift as a shuttle, bounding oâer the wave.
The blessed shore approaching then was heard So sweetly, âTu asperges me,â that I May not remember, much less tell the sound.
The beauteous dame, her arms expanding, claspâd My temples, and immergâd me, where ât was fit The wave should drench me: and thence raising up, Within the fourfold dance of lovely nymphs Presented me so lavâd, and with their arm They each did cover me. âHere are we nymphs, And in the heavân are stars. Or ever earth Was visited of Beatrice, we
Appointed for her handmaids, tended on her.
We to her eyes will lead thee; but the light Of gladness that is in them, well to scan, Those yonder three, of deeper ken than ours, Thy sight shall quicken.â Thus began their song; And then they led me to the Gryphonâs breast, While, turnâd toward us, Beatrice stood.
âSpare not thy vision. We have stationed thee Before the emeralds, whence love erewhile Hath drawn his weapons on thee. âAs they spake, A thousand fervent wishes riveted
Mine eyes upon her beaming eyes, that stood Still fixâd toward the Gryphon motionless.
As the sun strikes a mirror, even thus Within those orbs the twofold being, shone, For ever varying, in one figure now Reflected, now in other. Reader! muse How wondârous in my sight it seemâd to mark A thing, albeit steadfast in itself, Yet in its imagâd semblance mutable.
Full of amaze, and joyous, while my soul Fed on the viand, whereof still desire Grows with satiety, the other three With gesture, that declarâd a loftier line, Advancâd: to their own carol on they came Dancing in festive ring angelical.
âTurn, Beatrice!â was their song: âO turn Thy saintly sight on this thy faithful one, Who to behold thee many a wearisome pace Hath measurâd. Gracious at our prayâr vouchsafe Unveil to him thy cheeks: that he may mark Thy second beauty, now concealâd.â O splendour!
O sacred light eternal! who is he So pale with musing in Pierian shades, Or with that fount so lavishly imbued, Whose spirit should not fail him in thâ essay To represent thee such as thou didst seem, When under cope of the still-chiming heaven Thou gavâst to open air thy charms revealâd.
CANTO XXXII
Mine eyes with such an eager coveting, Were bent to rid them of their ten yearsâ thirst, No other sense was waking: and eâen they Were fencâd on either side from heed of aught; So tangled in its customâd toils that smile Of saintly brightness drew me to itself, When forcibly toward the left my sight The sacred virgins turnâd; for from their lips I heard the warning sounds: âToo fixâd a gaze!â
Awhile my vision laborâd; as when late Upon theâ oâerstrained eyes the sun hath smote: But soon to lesser object, as the view Was now recoverâd (lesser in respect To that excess of sensible, whence late I had perforce been sunderâd) on their right I markâd that glorious army wheel, and turn, Against the sun and sevânfold lights, their front.
As when, their bucklers for protection raisâd, A well-rangâd troop, with portly banners curlâd, Wheel circling, ere the whole can change their ground: Eâen thus the goodly regiment of heavân Proceeding, all did pass us, ere the car Had slopâd his beam. Attendant at the wheels The damsels turnâd; and on the Gryphon movâd The sacred burden, with a pace so smooth, No feather on him trembled. The fair dame Who through the wave had drawn me, companied By Statius and myself, pursued the wheel, Whose orbit, rolling, markâd a lesser arch.
Through the high wood, now void (the more her blame, Who by the serpent was beguilâd) I past With step in cadence to the harmony Angelic. Onward had we movâd, as far Perchance as arrow at three several flights Full wingâd had sped, when from her station down Descended Beatrice. With one voice All murmurâd âAdam,â circling next a plant Despoilâd of flowers and leaf on every bough.
Its tresses, spreading more as more they rose, Were such, as âmidst their forest wilds for height The Indians might have gazâd at. âBlessed thou!
Gryphon, whose beak hath never pluckâd that tree Pleasant to taste: for hence the appetite Was warpâd to evil.â Round the stately trunk Thus shouted forth the rest, to whom returnâd The animal twice-genderâd: âYea: for so The generation of the just are savâd.â
And turning to the chariot-pole, to foot He drew it of the widowâd branch, and bound There left unto the stock whereon it grew.
As when large floods of radiance from above Stream, with that radiance mingled, which ascends Next after setting of the scaly sign, Our plants then burgeon, and each wears anew His wonted colours, ere the sun have yokâd Beneath another star his flamy steeds; Thus putting forth a hue, more faint than rose, And deeper than the violet, was renewâd The plant, erewhile in all its branches bare.
Unearthly was the hymn, which then arose.
I understood it not, nor to the end Endurâd the harmony. Had I the skill To pencil forth, how closâd thâ unpitying eyes Slumbâring, when Syrinx warbled, (eyes that paid So dearly for their watching,) then like painter, That with a model paints, I might design The manner of my falling into sleep.
But feign who will the slumber cunningly; I pass it by to when I wakâd, and tell How suddenly a flash of splendour rent The curtain of my sleep, and one cries out: âArise, what dost thou?â As the chosen three, On Taborâs mount, admitted to behold The blossoming of that fair tree, whose fruit Is coveted of angels, and doth make Perpetual feast in heaven, to themselves Returning at the word, whence deeper sleeps Were broken, that they their tribe diminishâd saw, Both Moses and Elias gone, and changâd The stole their master wore: thus to myself Returning, over me beheld I stand
The piteous one, who cross the stream had brought My steps. âAnd where,â all doubting, I exclaimâd, âIs Beatrice?âââSee her,â she replied, âBeneath the fresh leaf seated on its root.
Behold thâ associate choir that circles her.
The others, with a melody more sweet And more profound, journeying to higher realms, Upon the Gryphon tend.â If there her words Were closâd, I know not; but mine eyes had now Taâen view of her, by whom all other thoughts Were barrâd admittance. On the very ground Alone she sat, as she had there been left A guard upon the wain, which I beheld Bound to the twyform beast. The seven nymphs Did make themselves a cloister round about her, And in their hands upheld those lights secure From blast septentrion and the gusty south.
âA little while thou shalt be forester here: And citizen shalt be forever with me, Of that true Rome, wherein Christ dwells a Roman To profit the misguided world, keep now Thine eyes upon the car; and what thou seest, Take heed thou write, returning to that place.â
Thus Beatrice: at whose feet inclinâd Devout, at her behest, my thought and eyes, I, as she bade, directed. Never fire, With so swift motion, forth a stormy cloud Leapâd downward from the welkinâs farthest bound, As I beheld the bird of Jove descending Pounce on the tree, and, as he rushâd, the rind, Disparting crush beneath him, buds much more And leaflets. On the car with all his might He struck, whence, staggering like a ship, it reelâd, At random drivân, to starboard now, oâercome, And now to larboard, by the vaulting waves.
Next springing up into the chariotâs womb A fox I saw, with hunger seeming pinâd Of all good food. But, for his ugly sins The saintly maid rebuking him, away Scampâring he turnâd, fast as his hide-bound corpse Would bear him. Next, from whence before he came, I saw the eagle dart into the hull Oâ thâ car, and leave it with his feathers linâd; And then a voice, like that which issues forth From heart with sorrow rivâd, did issue forth From heavân, and, âO poor bark of mine!â it cried, âHow badly art thou freighted!â Then, it seemâd, That the earth openâd between either wheel, And I beheld a dragon issue thence, That through the chariot fixâd his forked train; And like a wasp that draggeth back the sting, So drawing forth his baleful train, he draggâd Part of the bottom forth, and went his way Exulting. What remainâd, as lively turf With green herb, so did clothe itself with plumes, Which haply had with purpose chaste and kind Been offerâd; and therewith were clothâd the wheels, Both one and other, and the beam, so quickly A sigh were not breathâd sooner. Thus transformâd, The holy structure, through its several parts, Did put forth heads, three on the beam, and one On every side; the first like oxen hornâd, But with a single horn upon their front The four. Like monster sight hath never seen.
Oâer it methought there sat, secure as rock On mountainâs lofty top, a shameless whore, Whose ken rovâd loosely round her. At her side, As ât were that none might bear her off, I saw A giant stand; and ever, and anon
They mingled kisses. But, her lustful eyes Chancing on me to wander, that fell minion Scourgâd her from head to foot all oâer; then full Of jealousy, and fierce with rage, unloosâd The monster, and draggâd on, so far across The forest, that from me its shades alone Shielded the harlot and the new-formâd brute.
CANTO XXXIII
âThe heathen, Lord! are come!â responsive thus, The trinal now, and now the virgin band Quaternion, their sweet psalmody began, Weeping; and Beatrice listenâd, sad And sighing, to the songâ, in such a mood, That Mary, as she stood beside the cross, Was scarce more changâd. But when they gave her place To speak, then, risen upright on her feet, She, with a colour glowing bright as fire, Did answer: âYet a little while, and ye Shall see me not; and, my beloved sisters, Again a little while, and ye shall see me.â
Before her then she marshallâd all the seven, And, beckâning only motionâd me, the dame, And that remaining sage, to follow her.
So on she passâd; and had not set, I ween, Her tenth step to the ground, when with mine eyes Her eyes encounterâd; and, with visage mild, âSo mend thy pace,â she cried, âthat if my words Address thee, thou mayst still be
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