Through the high wood, now void (the more her blame,
Who by the serpent was beguil’d) I past
With step in cadence to the harmony
Angelic. Onward had we mov’d, as far
Perchance as arrow at three several flights
Full wing’d had sped, when from her station down
Descended Beatrice. With one voice
All murmur’d “Adam,” circling next a plant
Despoil’d of flowers and leaf on every bough.
Its tresses, spreading more as more they rose,
Were such, as ’midst their forest wilds for height
The Indians might have gaz’d at. “Blessed thou!
Gryphon, whose beak hath never pluck’d that tree
Pleasant to taste: for hence the appetite
Was warp’d to evil.” Round the stately trunk
Thus shouted forth the rest, to whom return’d
The animal twice-gender’d: “Yea: for so
The generation of the just are sav’d.”
And turning to the chariot-pole, to foot
He drew it of the widow’d 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 yok’d
Beneath another star his flamy steeds;
Thus putting forth a hue, more faint than rose,
And deeper than the violet, was renew’d
The plant, erewhile in all its branches bare.
Unearthly was the hymn, which then arose.
I understood it not, nor to the end
Endur’d the harmony. Had I the skill
To pencil forth, how clos’d th’ unpitying eyes
Slumb’ring, 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 wak’d, and tell
How suddenly a flash of splendour rent
The curtain of my sleep, and one cries out:
“Arise, what dost thou?” As the chosen three,
On Tabor’s 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 diminish’d saw,
Both Moses and Elias gone, and chang’d
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. “And where,” all doubting, I exclaim’d,
“Is Beatrice?”—“See her,” she replied,
“Beneath the fresh leaf seated on its root.
Behold th’ associate choir that circles her.
The others, with a melody more sweet
And more profound, journeying to higher realms,
Upon the Gryphon tend.” If there her words
Were clos’d, I know not; but mine eyes had now
Ta’en view of her, by whom all other thoughts
Were barr’d 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.
“A 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.”
Thus Beatrice: at whose feet inclin’d
Devout, at her behest, my thought and eyes,
I, as she bade, directed. Never fire,
With so swift motion, forth a stormy cloud
Leap’d downward from the welkin’s farthest bound,
As I beheld the bird of Jove descending
Pounce on the tree, and, as he rush’d, 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 reel’d,
At random driv’n, to starboard now, o’ercome,
And now to larboard, by the vaulting waves.
Next springing up into the chariot’s womb
A fox I saw, with hunger seeming pin’d
Of all good food. But, for his ugly sins
The saintly maid rebuking him, away
Scamp’ring he turn’d, fast as his hide-bound corpse
Would bear him. Next, from whence before he came,
I saw the eagle dart into the hull
O’ th’ car, and leave it with his feathers lin’d;
And then a voice, like that which issues forth
From heart with sorrow riv’d, did issue forth
From heav’n, and, “O poor bark of mine!” it cried,
“How badly art thou freighted!” Then, it seem’d,
That the earth open’d between either wheel,
And I beheld a dragon issue thence,
That through the chariot fix’d his forked train;
And like a wasp that draggeth back the sting,
So drawing forth his baleful train, he dragg’d
Part of the bottom forth, and went his way
Exulting. What remain’d, as lively turf
With green herb, so did clothe itself with plumes,
Which haply had with purpose chaste and kind
Been offer’d; and therewith were cloth’d the wheels,
Both one and other, and the beam, so quickly
A sigh were not breath’d sooner. Thus transform’d,
The holy structure, through its several parts,
Did put forth heads, three on the beam, and one
On every side; the first like oxen horn’d,
But with a single horn upon their front
The four. Like monster sight hath never seen.
O’er it methought there sat, secure as rock
On mountain’s lofty top, a shameless whore,
Whose ken rov’d loosely round her. At her side,
As ’twere 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
Scourg’d her from head to foot all o’er; then full
Of jealousy, and fierce with rage, unloos’d
The monster, and dragg’d on, so far across
The forest, that from me its shades alone
Shielded the harlot and the new-form’d brute.
CANTO XXXIII
“The heathen, Lord! are come!” responsive thus,
The trinal now, and now the virgin band
Quaternion, their sweet psalmody began,
Weeping; and Beatrice listen’d, sad
And sighing, to the song’, in such a mood,
That Mary, as she stood beside the cross,
Was scarce more chang’d. But when they gave her place
To speak, then, risen upright on her feet,
She, with a colour glowing bright as fire,
Did answer: “Yet a little while, and ye
Shall see me not; and, my beloved sisters,
Again a little while, and ye shall see me.”
Before her then she marshall’d all the seven,
And, beck’ning only motion’d me, the dame,
And that remaining sage, to follow her.
So on she pass’d; and had not set, I ween,
Her tenth step to the ground, when with mine eyes
Her eyes encounter’d; and, with visage mild,
“So mend thy pace,” she cried, “that if my words
Address thee, thou mayst still be aptly plac’d
To hear them.” Soon as duly to her side
I now had hasten’d: “Brother!” she began,
“Why mak’st thou no attempt at questioning,
As thus we walk together?” Like to those
Who, speaking with too reverent an awe
Before their betters, draw not forth the voice
Alive unto their lips, befell me shell
That I in sounds imperfect thus began:
“Lady! what I have need of, that thou know’st,
And what will suit my need.” She answering thus:
“Of fearfulness and shame, I will, that thou
Henceforth do rid thee: that thou speak no more,
As one who dreams. Thus far be taught of me:
The vessel, which thou saw’st the serpent break,
Was and is not: let him, who hath the blame,
Hope not to scare God’s vengeance with a sop.
Without an heir for ever shall not be
That eagle, he, who left the chariot plum’d,
Which monster made it first and next a prey.
Plainly I view, and therefore speak, the stars
E’en now approaching, whose conjunction, free
From all impediment and bar, brings on
A season, in the which, one sent from God,
(Five hundred, five, and ten, do mark him out)
That foul one, and th’ accomplice of her guilt,
The giant, both shall slay. And if perchance
My saying, dark as Themis or as Sphinx,
Fail to persuade thee, (since like them it foils
The intellect with blindness) yet ere long
Events shall be the Naiads, that will solve
This knotty riddle, and no damage light
On flock or field. Take heed; and as these words
By me are utter’d, teach them even so
To those who live that life, which is a race
To death: and when thou writ’st them, keep in mind
Not to conceal how thou hast seen the plant,
That twice hath now been spoil’d. This whoso robs,
This whoso plucks, with blasphemy of deed
Sins against God, who for his use alone
Creating hallow’d it. For taste of this,
In pain and in desire, five thousand years
And upward, the first soul did yearn for him,
Who punish’d in himself the fatal gust.