The Vision of Dante Alighiere or Hell, Purgatory and Paradise

by Dante Alighieri

Of love: then added: "Current is the coin

  Thou utter'st, both in weight and in alloy.

  But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse."

  "Even so glittering and so round," said I,

  "I not a whit misdoubt of its assay."

  Next issued from the deep imbosom'd splendour:

  "Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which

  Is founded every virtue, came to thee."

  "The flood," I answer'd, "from the Spirit of God

  Rain'd down upon the ancient bond and new,--

  Here is the reas'ning, that convinceth me

  So feelingly, each argument beside

  Seems blunt and forceless in comparison."

  Then heard I: "Wherefore holdest thou that each,

  The elder proposition and the new,

  Which so persuade thee, are the voice of heav'n?"

  "The works, that follow'd, evidence their truth; "

  I answer'd: "Nature did not make for these

  The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them."

  "Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves,

  Was the reply, "that they in very deed

  Are that they purport? None hath sworn so to thee."

  "That all the world," said I, "should have bee turn'd

  To Christian, and no miracle been wrought,

  Would in itself be such a miracle,

  The rest were not an hundredth part so great.

  E'en thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger

  To set the goodly plant, that from the vine,

  It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble."

  That ended, through the high celestial court

  Resounded all the spheres. "Praise we one God!"

  In song of most unearthly melody.

  And when that Worthy thus, from branch to branch,

  Examining, had led me, that we now

  Approach'd the topmost bough, he straight resum'd;

  "The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul,

  So far discreetly hath thy lips unclos'd

  That, whatsoe'er has past them, I commend.

  Behooves thee to express, what thou believ'st,

  The next, and whereon thy belief hath grown."

  "O saintly sire and spirit!" I began,

  "Who seest that, which thou didst so believe,

  As to outstrip feet younger than thine own,

  Toward the sepulchre? thy will is here,

  That I the tenour of my creed unfold;

  And thou the cause of it hast likewise ask'd.

  And I reply: I in one God believe,

  One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love

  All heav'n is mov'd, himself unmov'd the while.

  Nor demonstration physical alone,

  Or more intelligential and abstruse,

  Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth

  It cometh to me rather, which is shed

  Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms.

  The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write,

  When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost.

  In three eternal Persons I believe,

  Essence threefold and one, mysterious league

  Of union absolute, which, many a time,

  The word of gospel lore upon my mind

  Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark,

  The lively flame dilates, and like heav'n's star

  Doth glitter in me.'' As the master hears,

  Well pleas'd, and then enfoldeth in his arms

  The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought,

  And having told the errand keeps his peace;

  Thus benediction uttering with song

  Soon as my peace I held, compass'd me thrice

  The apostolic radiance, whose behest

  Had op'd lips; so well their answer pleas'd.

  CANTO XXV

  If e'er the sacred poem that hath made

  Both heav'n and earth copartners in its toil,

  And with lean abstinence, through many a year,

  Faded my brow, be destin'd to prevail

  Over the cruelty, which bars me forth

  Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb

  The wolves set on and fain had worried me,

  With other voice and fleece of other grain

  I shall forthwith return, and, standing up

  At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath

  Due to the poet's temples: for I there

  First enter'd on the faith which maketh souls

  Acceptable to God: and, for its sake,

  Peter had then circled my forehead thus.

  Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth

  The first fruit of Christ's vicars on the earth,

  Toward us mov'd a light, at view whereof

  My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me:

  "Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might,

  That makes Falicia throng'd with visitants!"

  As when the ring-dove by his mate alights,

  In circles each about the other wheels,

  And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I

  One, of the other great and glorious prince,

  With kindly greeting hail'd, extolling both

  Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end

  Was to their gratulation, silent, each,

  Before me sat they down, so burning bright,

  I could not look upon them. Smiling then,

  Beatrice spake: "O life in glory shrin'd!"

  Who didst the largess of our kingly court

  Set down with faithful pen! let now thy voice

  Of hope the praises in this height resound.

  For thou, who figur'st them in shapes, as clear,

  As Jesus stood before thee, well can'st speak them."

  "Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust:

  For that, which hither from the mortal world

  Arriveth, must be ripen'd in our beam."

  Such cheering accents from the second flame

  Assur'd me; and mine eyes I lifted up

  Unto the mountains that had bow'd them late

  With over-heavy burden. "Sith our Liege

  Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death,

  In the most secret council, with his lords

  Shouldst be confronted, so that having view'd

  The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith

  Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate

  With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare,

  What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee,

  And whence thou hadst it?" Thus proceeding still,

  The second light: and she, whose gentle love

  My soaring pennons in that lofty flight

  Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin'd:

  Among her sons, not one more full of hope,

  Hath the church militant: so 't is of him

  Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb

  Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term

  Of warfare, hence permitted he is come,

  From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see.

  The other points, both which thou hast inquir'd,

  Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell

  How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him

  Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease,

  And without boasting, so God give him grace."

  Like to the scholar, practis'd in his task,

  Who, willing to give proof of diligence,

  Seconds his teacher gladly, "Hope," said I,

  "Is of the joy to come a sure expectance,

  Th' effect of grace divine and merit preceding.

  This light from many a star visits my heart,

  But flow'd to me the first from him, who sang

  The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme

  Among his tuneful brethren. 'Let all h
ope

  In thee,' so speak his anthem, 'who have known

  Thy name;' and with my faith who know not that?

  From thee, the next, distilling from his spring,

  In thine epistle, fell on me the drops

  So plenteously, that I on others shower

  The influence of their dew." Whileas I spake,

  A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning,

  Within the bosom of that mighty sheen,

  Play'd tremulous; then forth these accents breath'd:

  "Love for the virtue which attended me

  E'en to the palm, and issuing from the field,

  Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires

  To ask of thee, whom also it delights;

  What promise thou from hope in chief dost win."

  "Both scriptures, new and ancient," I reply'd;

  "Propose the mark (which even now I view)

  For souls belov'd of God. Isaias saith,

  That, in their own land, each one must be clad

  In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life.

  In terms more full,

  And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth

  This revelation to us, where he tells

  Of the white raiment destin'd to the saints."

  And, as the words were ending, from above,

  "They hope in thee," first heard we cried: whereto

  Answer'd the carols all. Amidst them next,

  A light of so clear amplitude emerg'd,

  That winter's month were but a single day,

  Were such a crystal in the Cancer's sign.

  Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes,

  And enters on the mazes of the dance,

  Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent,

  Than to do fitting honour to the bride;

  So I beheld the new effulgence come

  Unto the other two, who in a ring

  Wheel'd, as became their rapture. In the dance

  And in the song it mingled. And the dame

  Held on them fix'd her looks: e'en as the spouse

  Silent and moveless. "This is he, who lay

  Upon the bosom of our pelican:

  This he, into whose keeping from the cross

  The mighty charge was given." Thus she spake,

  Yet therefore naught the more remov'd her Sight

  From marking them, or ere her words began,

  Or when they clos'd. As he, who looks intent,

  And strives with searching ken, how he may see

  The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire

  Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I

  Peer'd on that last resplendence, while I heard:

  "Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that,

  Which here abides not? Earth my body is,

  In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long,

  As till our number equal the decree

  Of the Most High. The two that have ascended,

  In this our blessed cloister, shine alone

  With the two garments. So report below."

  As when, for ease of labour, or to shun

  Suspected peril at a whistle's breath,

  The oars, erewhile dash'd frequent in the wave,

  All rest; the flamy circle at that voice

  So rested, and the mingling sound was still,

  Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose.

  I turn'd, but ah! how trembled in my thought,

  When, looking at my side again to see

  Beatrice, I descried her not, although

  Not distant, on the happy coast she stood.

  CANTO XXVI

  With dazzled eyes, whilst wond'ring I remain'd,

  Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me,

  Issued a breath, that in attention mute

  Detain'd me; and these words it spake: "'T were well,

  That, long as till thy vision, on my form

  O'erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse

  Thou compensate the brief delay. Say then,

  Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:

  And meanwhile rest assur'd, that sight in thee

  Is but o'erpowered a space, not wholly quench'd:

  Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look

  Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt

  In Ananias' hand.'' I answering thus:

  "Be to mine eyes the remedy or late

  Or early, at her pleasure; for they were

  The gates, at which she enter'd, and did light

  Her never dying fire. My wishes here

  Are centered; in this palace is the weal,

  That Alpha and Omega, is to all

  The lessons love can read me." Yet again

  The voice which had dispers'd my fear, when daz'd

  With that excess, to converse urg'd, and spake:

  "Behooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms,

  And say, who level'd at this scope thy bow."

  "Philosophy," said I, ''hath arguments,

  And this place hath authority enough

  'T' imprint in me such love: for, of constraint,

  Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good,

  Kindles our love, and in degree the more,

  As it comprises more of goodness in 't.

  The essence then, where such advantage is,

  That each good, found without it, is naught else

  But of his light the beam, must needs attract

  The soul of each one, loving, who the truth

  Discerns, on which this proof is built. Such truth

  Learn I from him, who shows me the first love

  Of all intelligential substances

  Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word

  Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith,

  'I will make all my good before thee pass.'

  Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim'st,

  E'en at the outset of thy heralding,

  In mortal ears the mystery of heav'n."

  "Through human wisdom, and th' authority

  Therewith agreeing," heard I answer'd, "keep

  The choicest of thy love for God. But say,

  If thou yet other cords within thee feel'st

  That draw thee towards him; so that thou report

  How many are the fangs, with which this love

  Is grappled to thy soul." I did not miss,

  To what intent the eagle of our Lord

  Had pointed his demand; yea noted well

  Th' avowal, which he led to; and resum'd:

  "All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God,

  Confederate to make fast our clarity.

  The being of the world, and mine own being,

  The death which he endur'd that I should live,

  And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do,

  To the foremention'd lively knowledge join'd,

  Have from the sea of ill love sav'd my bark,

  And on the coast secur'd it of the right.

  As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom,

  My love for them is great, as is the good

  Dealt by th' eternal hand, that tends them all."

  I ended, and therewith a song most sweet

  Rang through the spheres; and "Holy, holy, holy,"

  Accordant with the rest my lady sang.

  And as a sleep is broken and dispers'd

  Through sharp encounter of the nimble light,

  With the eye's spirit running forth to meet

  The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg'd;

  And the upstartled wight loathes that be sees;

  So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems

  Of all around him, till assurance waits

  On better judgment: thus the saintly came

  Drove from before mine eyes the motes away,

  With the resplendence of her own, that cast


  Their brightness downward, thousand miles below.

  Whence I my vision, clearer shall before,

  Recover'd; and, well nigh astounded, ask'd

  Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw.

  And Beatrice: "The first diving soul,

  That ever the first virtue fram'd, admires

  Within these rays his Maker." Like the leaf,

  That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown;

  By its own virtue rear'd then stands aloof;

  So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow'd.

  Then eagerness to speak embolden'd me;

  And I began: "O fruit! that wast alone

  Mature, when first engender'd! Ancient father!

  That doubly seest in every wedded bride

  Thy daughter by affinity and blood!

  Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold

  Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I,

  More speedily to hear thee, tell it not "

  It chanceth oft some animal bewrays,

  Through the sleek cov'ring of his furry coat.

  The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms

  His outside seeming to the cheer within:

  And in like guise was Adam's spirit mov'd

  To joyous mood, that through the covering shone,

  Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake:

  "No need thy will be told, which I untold

  Better discern, than thou whatever thing

  Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see

  In Him, who is truth's mirror, and Himself

  Parhelion unto all things, and naught else

  To him. This wouldst thou hear; how long since God

  Plac'd me high garden, from whose hounds

  She led me up in this ladder, steep and long;

  What space endur'd my season of delight;

  Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish'd me;

  And what the language, which I spake and fram'd

  Not that I tasted of the tree, my son,

  Was in itself the cause of that exile,

  But only my transgressing of the mark

  Assign'd me. There, whence at thy lady's hest

  The Mantuan mov'd him, still was I debarr'd

  This council, till the sun had made complete,

  Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice,

  His annual journey; and, through every light

  In his broad pathway, saw I him return,

  Thousand save sev'nty times, the whilst I dwelt

  Upon the earth. The language I did use

  Was worn away, or ever Nimrod's race

  Their unaccomplishable work began.

  For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting,

  Left by his reason free, and variable,

  As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks,

  Is nature's prompting: whether thus or thus,

  She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.

  Ere I descended into hell's abyss,

  El was the name on earth of the Chief Good,

  Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then 't was call'd

  And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use

  Is as the leaf upon the bough; that goes,

  And other comes instead. Upon the mount

  Most high above the waters, all my life,

  Both innocent and guilty, did but reach

  From the first hour, to that which cometh next

  (As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth.

  CANTO XXVII

  Then "Glory to the Father, to the Son,

  And to the Holy Spirit," rang aloud

  Throughout all Paradise, that with the song

  My spirit reel'd, so passing sweet the strain:

  And what I saw was equal ecstasy;

  One universal smile it seem'd of all things,

  Joy past compare, gladness unutterable,

  Imperishable life of peace and love,

  Exhaustless riches and unmeasur'd bliss.

  Before mine eyes stood the four torches lit;

  And that, which first had come, began to wax

  In brightness, and in semblance such became,

  As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds,

  And interchang'd their plumes. Silence ensued,

  Through the blest quire, by Him, who here appoints

  Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin'd;

  When thus I heard: "Wonder not, if my hue

  Be chang'd; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see

  All in like manner change with me. My place

  He who usurps on earth (my place, ay, mine,

  Which in the presence of the Son of God

  Is void), the same hath made my cemetery

  A common sewer of puddle and of blood:

  The more below his triumph, who from hence

  Malignant fell." Such colour, as the sun,

  At eve or morning, paints and adverse cloud,

  Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky.

  And as th' unblemish'd dame, who in herself

  Secure of censure, yet at bare report

  Of other's failing, shrinks with maiden fear;

  So Beatrice in her semblance chang'd:

  And such eclipse in heav'n methinks was seen,

  When the Most Holy suffer'd. Then the words

  Proceeded, with voice, alter'd from itself

  So clean, the semblance did not alter more.

  "Not to this end was Christ's spouse with my blood,

  With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed:

  That she might serve for purchase of base gold:

  But for the purchase of this happy life

  Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed,

  And Urban, they, whose doom was not without

  Much weeping seal'd. No purpose was of our