The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (10 best books of all time txt) 📖

I replied, “That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain—

To these impute, that in our hallow’d dome Such orisons ascend.” Sighing he shook The head, then thus resum’d: “In that affray I stood not singly, nor without just cause Assuredly should with the rest have stirr’d; But singly there I stood, when by consent Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d, The one who openly forbad the deed.”

“So may thy lineage find at last repose,”

I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot, Which now involves my mind. If right I hear, Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time Leads with him, of the present uninform’d.”

“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,”

He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote: So much of his large spendour yet imparts The’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approach Or actually exist, our intellect

Then wholly fails, nor of your human state Except what others bring us know we aught.

Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all Our knowledge in that instant shall expire, When on futurity the portals close.”

Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse Smitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou say To him there fallen, that his offspring still Is to the living join’d; and bid him know, That if from answer silent I abstain’d, ‘Twas that my thought was occupied intent Upon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.”

But now my master summoning me back I heard, and with more eager haste besought The spirit to inform me, who with him Partook his lot. He answer thus return’d: “More than a thousand with me here are laid Within is Frederick, second of that name, And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest I speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew.

But I my steps towards the ancient bard Reverting, ruminated on the words

Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d, And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amaze That holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfied The’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight: “Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard To thee importing harm; and note thou this,”

With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed, “When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam, Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life The future tenour will to thee unfold.”

Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet: We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle space Went by a path, that to a valley strikes; Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam.

 

CANTO XI

 

UPON the utmost verge of a high bank, By craggy rocks environ’d round, we came, Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow’d: And here to shun the horrible excess Of fetid exhalation, upward cast

From the profound abyss, behind the lid Of a great monument we stood retir’d, Whereon this scroll I mark’d: “I have in charge Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew From the right path.—Ere our descent behooves We make delay, that somewhat first the sense, To the dire breath accustom’d, afterward Regard it not.” My master thus; to whom Answering I spake: “Some compensation find That the time past not wholly lost.” He then: “Lo! how my thoughts e’en to thy wishes tend!

My son! within these rocks,” he thus began, “Are three close circles in gradation plac’d, As these which now thou leav’st. Each one is full Of spirits accurs’d; but that the sight alone Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how And for what cause in durance they abide.

“Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven, The end is injury; and all such end Either by force or fraud works other’s woe But fraud, because of man peculiar evil, To God is more displeasing; and beneath The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure Severer pang. The violent occupy

All the first circle; and because to force Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds Hach within other sep’rate is it fram’d.

To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man Force may be offer’d; to himself I say And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes By devastation, pillage, and the flames, His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites In malice, plund’rers, and all robbers, hence The torment undergo of the first round In different herds. Man can do violence To himself and his own blessings: and for this He in the second round must aye deplore With unavailing penitence his crime, Whoe’er deprives himself of life and light, In reckless lavishment his talent wastes, And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy.

To God may force be offer’d, in the heart Denying and blaspheming his high power, And nature with her kindly law contemning.

And thence the inmost round marks with its seal Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak Contemptuously’ of the Godhead in their hearts.

“Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting, May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust He wins, or on another who withholds Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.

Whence in the second circle have their nest Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries, Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce To lust, or set their honesty at pawn, With such vile scum as these. The other way Forgets both Nature’s general love, and that Which thereto added afterwards gives birth To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle, Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis, The traitor is eternally consum’d.”

I thus: “Instructor, clearly thy discourse Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm And its inhabitants with skill exact.

But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool, Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives, Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet, Wherefore within the city fire-illum’d Are not these punish’d, if God’s wrath be on them?

And if it be not, wherefore in such guise Are they condemned?” He answer thus return’d: “Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind, Not so accustom’d? or what other thoughts Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory The words, wherein thy ethic page describes Three dispositions adverse to Heav’n’s will, Incont’nence, malice, and mad brutishness, And how incontinence the least offends God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note This judgment, and remember who they are, Without these walls to vain repentance doom’d, Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac’d From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours Justice divine on them its vengeance down.”

“O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight, Thou so content’st me, when thou solv’st my doubt, That ignorance not less than knowledge charms.

Yet somewhat turn thee back,” I in these words Continu’d, “where thou saidst, that usury Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot Perplex’d unravel.” He thus made reply: “Philosophy, to an attentive ear,

Clearly points out, not in one part alone, How imitative nature takes her course From the celestial mind and from its art: And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds, Not many leaves scann’d o’er, observing well Thou shalt discover, that your art on her Obsequious follows, as the learner treads In his instructor’s step, so that your art Deserves the name of second in descent From God. These two, if thou recall to mind Creation’s holy book, from the beginning Were the right source of life and excellence To human kind. But in another path The usurer walks; and Nature in herself And in her follower thus he sets at nought, Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now My steps on forward journey bent; for now The Pisces play with undulating glance Along the’ horizon, and the Wain lies all O’er the north-west; and onward there a space Is our steep passage down the rocky height.”

 

CANTO XII

 

THE place where to descend the precipice We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge Such object lay, as every eye would shun.

As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream On this side Trento struck, should’ring the wave, Or loos’d by earthquake or for lack of prop; For from the mountain’s summit, whence it mov’d To the low level, so the headlong rock Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give To him who from above would pass; e’en such Into the chasm was that descent: and there At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d The infamy of Crete, detested brood Of the feign’d heifer: and at sight of us It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract.

To him my guide exclaim’d: “Perchance thou deem’st The King of Athens here, who, in the world Above, thy death contriv’d. Monster! avaunt!

He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art, But to behold your torments is he come.”

Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow Hath struck him, but unable to proceed Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d: “Run to the passage! while he storms, ‘t is well That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took Through those dilapidated crags, that oft Mov’d underneath my feet, to weight like theirs Unus’d. I pond’ring went, and thus he spake: “Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep, Guarded by the brute violence, which I Have vanquish’d now. Know then, that when I erst Hither descended to the nether hell, This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt (If well I mark) not long ere He arrived, Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds Such trembling seiz’d the deep concave and foul, I thought the universe was thrill’d with love, Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft Been into chaos turn’d: and in that point, Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down.

But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood Approaches, in the which all those are steep’d, Who have by violence injur’d.” O blind lust!

O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on In the brief life, and in the eternal then Thus miserably o’erwhelm us. I beheld An ample foss, that in a bow was bent, As circling all the plain; for so my guide Had told. Between it and the rampart’s base On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm’d, As to the chase they on the earth were wont.

At seeing us descend they each one stood; And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows And missile weapons chosen first; of whom One cried from far: “Say to what pain ye come Condemn’d, who down this steep have journied? Speak From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw.”

To whom my guide: “Our answer shall be made To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come.

Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash.”

Then me he touch’d, and spake: “Nessus is this, Who for the fair Deianira died,

And wrought himself revenge for his own fate.

He in the midst, that on his breast looks down, Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs’d; That other Pholus, prone to wrath.” Around The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts At whatsoever spirit dares emerge

From out the blood, more than his guilt allows.

We to those beasts, that rapid strode along, Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth, And with the notch push’d back his shaggy beard To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim’d: “Are ye aware, that he who comes behind Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead Are not so wont.” My trusty guide, who now Stood near his breast, where the two natures join, Thus made reply: “He is indeed alive, And solitary so must needs by me

Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc’d