La Divina Commedia (The Divine Comedy) : Paradiso: La Divina Commedia (The Divine Comedy) : Paradiso a Translation into English in Iambic Pentameter, Terza Rima Form

By Paul S. Bruckman

This is the third book of a trilogy. Click on the links below to view the other two volumes of the trilogy.
LA DIVINA COMMEDIA (THE DIVINE COMEDY) : Inferno
LA DIVINA COMMEDIA (THE DIVINE COMEDY) : Purgatorio

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456878979

Paul S. Bruckman

Paul S. Bruckman was born in Florence, Italy and was baptized in the Baptistery of San Giovanni, just as Dante was. At an early age, he left Italy and emigrated to the U.S., but was raised in a northern Italian household, thus retaining his knowledge of the Italian language. On the maternal line was a long line of artists and artesans; his maternal grandfather was a well-known artist, musician and maker of violins. From this line, Bruckman inherited a love of classical studies, including classical mythology, history, literature, poetry and music. Bruckman graduated from the U. of Illinois in 1974 with a Masters Degree in Mathematics. His career as a pension actuary ended with his retirement in 2001, but he remains active with various mathematical activities. Beginning around 1985, he began to translate Dantes Divine Comedy, primarily as a labor of love. From the beginning, Bruckman intended this work to be used as an accessible source of Dantes monumental work for English-speaking students. Due to career commitments, progress was slow at fi rst, but picked up pace after Bruckmans retirement. The last lines of the translation of Paradiso were completed in 2010. The entire translation is intended to be appropriate for a modern, quasi-scholarly audience, and is enhanced by ample explanatory notes and supporting addenda. Bruckman is married, has 7 children and 6 grandchildren.

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LA DIVINA COMMEDIA (THE DIVINE COMEDY):

PARADISO

A Translation into English in Iambic Pentameter, Terza Rima form

Paul S. Bruckman

Copyright © 2011 by Paul S. Bruckman.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Illustrations by Gustave Doré

and

Paul S. Bruckman (PARA. XII, p. 227: Figure 1: Castile’s coat of arms;

PARA. XXXI, p. 563: Figure 2: the oriflamme)

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

AUTHOR’S FOREWORD

THIRD CANTICA

CANTO I

CANTO II

CANTO III

CANTO IV

CANTO V

CANTO VI

CANTO VII

CANTO VIII

CANTO IX

CANTO X

CANTO XI

CANTO XII

CANTO XIII

CANTO XIV

CANTO XV

CANTO XVI

CANTO XVII

CANTO XVIII

CANTO XIX

CANTO XX

CANTO XXI

CANTO XXII

CANTO XXIII

CANTO XXIV

CANTO XXV

CANTO XXVI

CANTO XXVII

CANTO XXVIII

CANTO XXIX

CANTO XXX

CANTO XXXI

CANTO XXXII

CANTO XXXIII

– END OF PARADISO –

PARADISO TIMELINE

BIBLIOGRAPHY

With Love –

To my grandchildren: onward to the stars!

To my wife: for her infinite patience

AUTHOR’S FOREWORD

It has been several years since my translation of the PURGATORIO has come out in print. The journey to the stars continues. Whereas Hell and Purgatory were terrestrial (albeit ultramundane) domains, subject to the same laws of physics as our own world, the Empyrean and its subordinate spheres are extraterrestrial and outside the influence of those laws. As the domain of God and light, the Empyrean lies beyond the scope of human understanding and comprehension; for this reason, Dante is often incapable of rendering into words satisfactory descriptions of what he is experiencing as he climbs ever upward. At the same time, he uses phraseology that is easily the most difficult of all to decipher in his entire monumental work. This, in turn, makes it that much more difficult to translate.

I previously made the comment that Dante has become noticeably kinder and gentler in his steady ascent to the stars. This, of course, is an illusion; in fact, Dante has lost none of his customary vitriol in denouncing the evils of his day, as he perceived them. Yet, once leaving the Terrestrial Paradise, he was supposed to have been purged of all bad thoughts and to have only Love in his heart for all around him; how does he manage, nevertheless, to fulminate against all real and perceived evils? The ingenious answer is that he uses the mechanism of having the Blessed Souls of Heaven do his dirty work for him. It is they who inveigh with thundering criticism against all the old evils with which we have become familiar, so dear to Dante’s heart. These Blessed Souls are allowed to be harshly critical of all that is bothersome to Dante (the narrator), without forsaking their primary directive, which is to love God with all their power.

Of course, there is also a great deal of Love in this work. The works of St. Thomas Aquinas (particularly the Summa Theologiae) continue to be frequently represented, of course, along with Dante’s earlier work, the Convivio. There are frequent references in the Commedia to similar sections in the Convivio, which makes the Commedia appear, in such instances, to be a refinement and embellishment of ideas expressed by Dante years before.

Repeating my remarks indicated in my Foreword to PURGATORIO, I give the traditional dates that most scholars have adopted as the approximate periods during which the three books of the Commedia were written: the consensus seems to be that INFERNO was written from 1306-1314, PURGATORIO from 1315-1318 and PARADISO from 1319-1321. On the other hand, the Convivio, which may be considered in some ways as a parallel work, was written by Dante during the years 1304-1307, approximately. These dates, when compared with the historical events of the times, give a better picture of Dante’s philosophical and political development, along with the evolution of his thoughts regarding Love.

As was the case with Virgil toward the end of PURGATORIO, Beatrice vanishes from view, at least momentarily, toward the end of PARADISO. True, she does reappear in her true and permanent abode in Paradise, but her role as Dante’s guide and mentor, like that of Virgil, is essentially over, once she disappears from Dante’s side. She is replaced, in the final leg of Dante’s journey, by the kindly St. Bernard, an apt symbol of Contemplation and veneration of the cult of Mary.

As I commented in an earlier foreword, the entire work may be regarded as a Medieval work of science fiction, if such a term may be used in this context. Dante’s stupendous mind was still firmly embedded in the realm of mysticism, which has the effect of making the Divine Comedy a synthesis of science and religion. Yet what a synthesis! The work would not have been possible in any age other than the one during which Dante lived. If written much earlier, it would have probably been devoid of any pretense at scientific explanations; and if written later, say during the Italian Renaissance, the religious content may well have seemed out of place.

Even at the end of PARADISO, Dante is deluded into thinking that his goal of a unified Italy enjoying a new golden age will be championed by a triumphant prince, who among his other accomplishments, will repatriate D. back to his beloved Florence. Alas, this forlorn dream of Dante’s was, for one reason or another, never to be realized. This must have been a source of enormous disappointment and bitterness for him, and may even have contributed to his relatively early death at age 56.

Whatever other faults exist in Dante’s monumental work, it stands alone as a work extolling the Divine plan in its full complexity. Mankind currently may have a different set of values and motivations than Dante had, but his goal of reaching toward the stars remains, even after the passage of seven centuries. We can only wonder what Dante would think of our efforts, if he could see us now.

Paul S. Bruckman

Nanaimo, January, 2011

THIRD CANTICA

PARADISO

CANTO I

Leaving the Terrestrial Paradise

Prologue – Invocation –

Dante and Beatrice begin their ascent toward Heaven –

The Sphere of Fire

Resolution of one of Dante’s questions –

A new question arises in Dante’s mind –

The glory of the One Who moveth all

Pierces the Universe and glows more bright

More in one part than other parts withal.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .3

I’ve been in that Sphere that receives most light,

And I’ve seen things that whoso thence descends

Would lack the wit and power thereon to write;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .6

For, as our intellect draws near its desired ends,

It sinks so deeply, that our memory

Cannot follow behind its twists and wends.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .9

Yet, what my mind still hoards, what I can see

Of that Realm and of its Blessed Choir,

Will now my canto’s subject matter be.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .12

O good Phoebus, my final work inspire,

Make me such vessel that thy powers breed

As laurel, your desired gift, may require.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .15

Ere now, Parnassus’ one peak was indeed

Enough for me; but now, for what remains

Of my endeavor, both peaks will I need.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .18

Enter my breast, and breathe in such refrains

As when Marsyas from his sheath you drew

Out of his limbs, exposing nerves and veins.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .21

O inspired Power Divine, if only you

Might let me sing the shadow that I see

Of the Blest Kingdom, stamped in my mind’s view,. . . . . . . . . . . .24

You’ll see me reach the coveted bay tree,

And then you’ll crown me with the leaves I win,

Made worthy by the subject and by thee.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .27

So seldom, Father, is it gathered in

A triumph called for Caesar or poet

(Fie on man’s guilty will, his shame and sin!),. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .30

That the Peneian frond should well beget

Joy in the Delphic god, when he should mark

Some person’s craving to be crowned with it.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .33

A great flame follows from a tiny spark:

A better voice may follow in my wake

And pray that Cyrrha might reply and hark.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .36

The world’s lamp rises for all mortals’ sake,

By diverse paths; but on one unique day,

It joins four circles, that three crosses make,. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .39

Then breaks out on a more propitious way,

Joined to the best stars of the Zodiac,

Stamping its seal that shapes the earth’s soft clay.. . . . . . . . .42

On near such day, ’twas morning on yon track,

And evening here; that half-sphere, far and wide,

Was all white yonder, and the other black,. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .45

When I saw Beatrice turn to Her left side,

Her eyes fixed on the sun: no eagle’s eyes

Could ever such a sunlit stare abide.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .48

As when a second ray may seem to rise,

Reflected from the first sunbeam, or just

Like pilgrims wanting to return, likewise,. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .51

Through my eyes, Her act gave my mind a thrust,

And I too turned, fixing my eyes and face

Upon the sun, beyond our wonted trust.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .54

Much is allowed our powers in that place

That is not granted here, by the virtue

Of its being made just for the human race.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .57

Not long, nor briefly, was it in my view,

Enough to see sparks fly round its cauldron,

Like molten iron that from fire may spew;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .60

Then suddenly it seemed as if the One

Who can had joined a new day unto day,

And had decked Heaven with another sun.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .63

Beatrice’s eyes remained in fixed survey

Of the eternal spheres, as mine fixed Her,

Now from the sight above being turned away.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .66

Gazing at Her, I felt myself bestir,

As Glaucus did, when on such grass he grazed

As made him sea-gods’ kin, with new nature.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .69

To be transfigured thus cannot be phrased;

Let this case sate him whose grace may bestow

Experience of the very fact here raised.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .72

O Love that governs Heaven, Thou must know

Whether what Thy light raised was all of me,

Or just that part new-made by Thee below.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .75

When that Sphere ever filled with zeal for Thee

Had made me turn there, with its dulcet choir

Thou tunest, plucking thence sweet harmony,. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .78

So much of Heaven, then, appeared on fire

With the sun’s flame, that never rain or stream

Had made a sea so vast in Thy Empire.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .81

The novel sound and the great light supreme

Kindled a craving in me to know why,

Never so keenly felt by me, I deem.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .84

Then She, Who read my thoughts as well as I,

To quell my perplexed spirit, ere I asked,

Opened Her mouth and started to reply:. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .87

"Your wit is dulled, and your mind overtasked

By your false fancies, and thus can’t divine

What you would see, were these shed and unmasked.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .90

You’re no longer on earth, as you opine;

But lightning, from its own site rushing out,

Flies not as fast as you, back to your shrine.". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .93

Though I was stripped now of my first great doubt

By Her concise, smiled words, new inquiries

Ensnared me with new questions all about,. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .96

And I said: "I’m content now and at ease

From one great marvel; but I’m stunned again

That I soar o’er light elements like these.". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .99

Thereat She sighed with pity, looking then

Upon me like a mother who might see

Her son in a delirium, and began:. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .102

"All things observe a mutual harmony;

This is the mold by which, at God’s command,

The Universe is like Him, totally.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .105

Herein, the higher creatures see the hand

Of the Eternal Worth, which is the goal

To which said normal state aspires, as planned.. . .. . . . . . . .108

All things incline toward said order’s control,

Some natures near their Source, some not so near,

According to each diverse lot and role;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .111

Thus, borne by instinct given them, they steer

Across existence’s enormous sea,

And sail to diverse ports, some yon, some here.. . . . . . . . . . . .114

This bears all fires up toward the moon we see;

This moves all hearts that die, from high above;

This holds the earth in compact unity:. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .117

Not only creatures that are devoid of

Intelligence are pierced by this bow’s touch,

But also those with Intellect and Love.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .120

The Providence that keeps track of so much,

Keeps Heaven, with Its light, forever still,

While in It spins the fastest sphere, as such;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .123

We go there now, according to God’s Will,

Borne by the force that bowstring doth impart,

With bliss its every target to fulfill.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .126

It’s true that, as the shape of any art

Fails often to respond to Art’s intent,

For deaf is the material, at the start;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .129

Just so, a creature thus imprinted may be bent

Another way, at times, and may aspire

By will alone, this course to circumvent;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .132

And just as we see fall the lightning’s fire

From clouds, so the first impulse we strive for

Is twisted back to earth by false desire.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .135

As I see it, you must wonder no more

At your ascent, than at a rushing stream

That falls from the high alp to the vale’s floor.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .138

Had you stayed there, unhindered, it would seem

A marvel, truly, as if fire that burned

Could stay on earth in stillness most extreme.". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .141

Then once more Heavenward Her face was turned.

NOTES TO CANTO I

Leaving the Terrestrial Paradise

Prologue – Invocation –

Dante and Beatrice begin their ascent toward Heaven –

The Sphere of Fire:

Resolution of one of Dante’s questions –

A new question arises in Dante’s mind –

1-12. PROLOGUE: God is the Primal Cause and Mover of the Universe. Although His light and glory penetrates its every corner, this shines unequally in the various parts of the Universe, depending on the importance of that particular part. The greatest light shines in the Empyrean, God’s very abode; this is immediately manifested to those creatures that dwell there. It was there, says D., that he stayed for a while and saw things about which he himself has difficulty speaking. For if anyone has been that close to God, Who is the goal of all his desires, his meager, merely human intellect is so overwhelmed by the profundity of this experience that memory cannot adequately follow it and describe what he has seen. In spite of this, Dante says that he will make an attempt, to the best of his ability, to write of his experiences in the Kingdom of God.

1-3. God is the Prime Mover of all things. In particular, He initiated the movement of the heavens, and created the earth. From Heaven, all movement is initiated, beginning with the Primum Mobile, the sphere immediately below the Empyrean. His light and glory penetrates into all parts of the Universe, His handiwork. However, this shines with different measure in different parts, depending on the importance of that part in the greater scheme of things. For example, as D. explains in Convivio III, 7, God’s light is received by the Angels, who have no material form, in one way; it is received in another way by the human soul, which is partially material, partially insubstantial; and in yet other ways, corresponding to their progressively material natures, by first animals, then plants and finally minerals.

One could also interpret this passage to mean that God’s light shines unequally in different parts of the Universe. For example, Hell is devoid of God’s light, while the Empyrean is its very domain; intermediate parts of the Universe (e.g., the world of men) are illuminated by correspondingly intermediate intensities of God’s light.

4-9. D. the narrator is telling us that he has been to the Empyrean, the seat of Divinity and of God’s light; moreover, he says that he has seen such wondrous things there that anyone who might ever have been there (as he was) and who comes back down to earth to tell the tale, would lack the intellect and the power of expression to do so, thereby excusing himself for the inadequacy of his eloquence. God is the Supreme Good, the ultimate aim of all human desire. The closer our human intellect approaches toward this inscrutable, unfathomable and awe-inspiring Divinity, it is so abased and made to feel so insignificant that our human memory, with all its failings, cannot follow it; that is to say, we cannot properly record the experience, with our intellect being so dazzled and overwhelmed.

10-12. In spite of his human failings, of which he has spoken, D. will make an attempt to convey to the reader a sense of what he can still remember and treasure, namely what he experienced in the Blessed Realm (the Empyrean), inhabited by God and His Blessed Choir (the Angels and the human souls of the blessed). This memory, albeit faulty and inadequate, will be recorded, and this record will be the subject matter of this poem (the PARADISO).

13-36. INVOCATION: In INFERNO and in PURGATORIO, D. invoked the assistance of the Muses. In this Canticle, the difficult and lofty subject matter necessitates the invocation of a higher authority, namely Apollo, the god of poetry and the leader of the Muses. Only with that god’s help may D. be able to create such a lasting work as will earn the coveted laurel crown. The desire for lasting fame of this type, though rarely sought by and bestowed to men, should find a receptive ear in the god Apollo, the patron of poets and musicians, to whom the laurel tree is sacred.

13-15. D. invokes the aid of Apollo (otherwise known as Phoebus), the patron of poetry and music and the leader of the Muses, in the hope that the god will assist him in setting down his final work (his third Canticle, PARADISO). We see here an echo of V.’s opening line: Extremum hunc, Arethusa, mihi concede laborem(Eclogues X:1) (Permit me, Arethusa, this last desperate task; translation by Guy Lee). D. prays to Apollo to make him (D.) the vessel of the god’s powers (that is, poetic powers), overflowing to the extent required in order to earn the coveted gift of the laurel crown, symbol of great skill and prowess in the field of poetry. It should be added that the laurel tree was sacred to Apollo, since it was in this form that the god’s beloved Daphne was transformed (the tale is told by Ovid in Meta. I: 452-567).

16-18. Before now, says D., it was enough to invoke only the aid of the Muses; now, however, in order to poetize in a sufficiently worthy style, it will be necessary to invoke not only the Muses, but also Apollo, their leader. By way of explanation, Mount Parnassus has two peaks, one of which in ancient times was called Nisa and was sacred to the Muses; the other was called Cyrrha and was sacred to Apollo himself; D. is saying that Nisa (i.e. the Muses) had heretofore sufficed for him, but that he now needs both peaks (i.e. Apollo, along with the Muses), in order to complete what remains of his endeavor (i.e. the PARADISO, the final Canticle of the D.C.).

19-21. D. prays that Apollo’s inspiration might enter his (D.’s) breast and thence be inscribed into refrains of the same divine power and skill that were evident when Apollo was challenged by the satyr Marsyas to a contest of flute-playing skill. The tale is told by Ovid in Meta. VI: 382-400. Apollo defeated Marsyas and, for his insolence, flayed him alive until the muscles, veins and organs of the hapless satyr were exposed and bleeding profusely. In D.’s slightly revised version, Marsyas is described as having been withdrawn from the sheath of his skin, like a sword from its scabbard. Perhaps D. is praying that he, too, will be pulled out of himself (i.e. will outdo himself, in poetic prowess).

As we recall, the corresponding invocation of PURG. I alluded to the punishment of the Pierides by the Muses, for daring to confront the goddesses to a singing contest (see n. to PURG. I:7-12). A similar contest is alluded to here, with a comparable result. Let those who challenge Divinity beware!

22-27. D. prays that Apollo might grant him the power to set down in writing the tenuous, imperfect vision of the Blessed Realm that has been imprinted in his memory, although it remains little more than a shadow there. If the god will grant this boon, D. will have earned the coveted laurel crown (as gathered from the bay (i.e. laurel) tree). This prize will be richly deserved by D., by virtue of the lofty subject matter and the poetic skill bestowed by the god, as will be displayed by D. This is only one of the several instances where D. expresses his ardent desire to earn the laurel crown of poet; also, see the n. to l. 13- 15 above, as well as PARA. XXV: 9, for similar expressions of this desire.

28-33. D. addresses Apollo as Father, alluding to the god’s role as the patron of poets and prophets. So seldom are the coveted laurel leaves gathered and fashioned into a crown, as for example in a triumph organized in honor of an emperor (a Caesar) or a poet, to whom the laurel crown would be given --- and here, D. feels it necessary to interject a scathing condemnation of humanity for being so remiss in honoring such worthy personages --- that Apollo (the Delphic god), already content with his own skill and with his laurel, should become even more joyous after being informed that others are coveting the laurel crown, the plant sacred to him.

By way of explanation, the principal temple of Apollo was in Delphi. In Meta. I: 515-516, Apollo says: I am Lord of Delphi and Tenedos and Claros and Patara. (translation by Rolfe Humphries). Also, the Peneian frond is a reference to a sprig of laurel, so-called because Daphne, transformed to a laurel tree, was the daughter of the river Peneus (see n. to l. 13-15 above).

34-36. Just as a tiny spark may ignite a great conflagration, it may be, says D., so that a worthier, more eloquent voice may follow in his wake, i.e. follow his example, and obtain from Apollo (as personified by Cyrrha, the peak of Mount Parnassus that was sacred to the god) a more sympathetic ear and greater poetic inspiration than he (D.) has been able to garner. In this way, stimulated by D.’s own meager effort, such a poet might be able to produce a nobler, more potent result in depicting what D. has tried to do here. We sense here that D., as narrator, did not really harbor such modesty; however, since he has been ostensibly purged of Pride, we must take his expressed humility at face value.

37-81. DANTE AND BEATRICE BEGIN THEIR ASCENT TOWARD HEAVEN: Here properly begins the third part of the epic voyage of Dante. After D. has returned from the river Eunoë to where B. has remained standing, She turns to Her left and fixes Her gaze upon the sun. D. does likewise and notices that the sun is shining with much greater brilliance than usual; however, the sunlight does not bother him, as would normally be the case. He then turns his gaze upon B. once again, and at once feels as if he has been transformed into a more sublime, superhuman creature. The two of them rise toward Heaven, but D., at first, is unaware of his ascent, being in ecstacy at hearing the sweet harmony of the music of the spheres and observing a vast expanse of light above him.

37-42. The sun is the lamp of the world of mortals, the source of life and of mankind’s well-being. It rises at different locations on the horizon, at different times of the year. As D. explains, there is always a certain point on the horizon at a certain time of year, whatever the particular location on the earth, where the sun rises at a point on the horizon that is the intersection of four great celestial circles: the horizon itself, plus another three great celestial circles, to be described below. The particular time of year that D. has in mind is the spring equinox. Near their intersection, these four circles form three crosses (the horizon being part of each cross). We may imagine these circles and their common intersection (where the sun lies at sunrise), forming three crosses, from the perspective of a terrestrial observer. To such an observer, the circles would appear as lines; also, the crosses are seen only if we visualize these lines to extend below the horizon. The four circles are the following: (a) the earth’s horizon; (b) the ecliptic, or zodiacal belt; (c) the celestial equator, and (d) the equinoctial colure. The ecliptic (in our terminology) is the solar system’s plane. D. would have known it as the great circle in the sky along which the sun, moon and planets travel, and along which the twelve constellations of the Zodiac are to be found. The celestial equator is the great circle in the sky that is 90° of arc distant from either of the celestial poles; it bisects the celestial sphere, just as our terrestrial equator bisects our meridian lines. The equinoctial colure is the great circle drawn through both celestial poles and the two so-called equinoctial points of the ecliptic, namely where Aries and Libra lie on the belt of the Zodiac. Also, we note that this colure lies at right angles to the celestial equator.

The interpretation of D.’s elaborate phrase that we have adopted here has D. referring to the rising of the sun when it is in Aries, during the early part of spring. The four circles and the three crosses may also be symbolic of the four Cardinal Virtues and the three Theological Virtues, respectively. Symbolically, the light of God (represented by the sun) shines more propitiously at this time of year when the seven Virtues are to be found conjoined in harmony; at this time, the sunshine is the harbinger of fair and happy days to come. When the sun is found in Aries, this brings to the earth more benign influences than any other constellation of the Zodiac. As we recall (see n. to INF. I: 37-43), the sun was in Aries when God created the heavens and began to move them. In the early spring, the sun stamps its benign seal upon the softened earth below, as it were, by bringing forth warmer weather and the rebirth of life; for this reason, spring is the most favorable and propitious of all seasons.

43-48. On near the day to which D. refers in l. 38 (i.e. the spring equinox, and as near as can be ascertained within the context of D.’s descriptions), it is noon in the hemisphere of Purgatory (yon track, where the sun’s course lies), but midnight here, i.e. in the hemisphere of the living. We visualize D. as narrator here; he is writing in retrospect, back in Italy, although the action he is describing has him still in (or above) Purgatory’s hemisphere. The word near is meant to convey the fact that the month is April, some 10 or so days after the spring equinox; we may suppose that the sun is still sufficiently close to the point described in l. 37-42 to keep the description of such point more or less accurate.

D. describes the hemisphere of Purgatory as being all white, i.e., illuminated by the rays of the sun, while the other hemisphere is black with the pall of night. It would appear that D. and B. are still in the Terrestrial Paradise, and that it is about noontime there. Although he spoke of the sun rising in l. 37-42, this was described as past action, probably as a way to introduce the symbolism of the seven Virtues, as mentioned in the preceding note; now that it is noon, he observes B. (Who had been turned toward the east with the Eunoë before Her) turn to Her left and fix Her eyes on the glaring disk of the sun, already high in the sky. Since B. is a Divine Creature, she can bear to look directly at the sun without ill consequences. D. says that no eagle could ever abide to look so long and fixedly at the sun; it was mistakenly believed that eagles were able to do so.

49-54. D. uses an analogy from the laws of optics, referring to a direct, or incident, ray of sunlight, reflecting back up from a shiny surface as a second ray. Similarly, he says, a pilgrim who has reached his place of pilgrimage wants to return home, following the same road. Just so, B.’s act of looking directly at the sun descends from on high through his eyes and strikes his mind, giving rise to his imitative, reflex action of likewise looking directly at the sun. This is an automatic action, taken trustingly, without regard to the customary precaution of shielding one’s eyes (beyond our use and trust).

55-57. That place to which D. refers is, presumably, the Terrestrial Paradise, where up to now, he has been completing the final phases of his purification. As we have seen, the normal laws of physics do not apply there. Much is allowed to man’s powers there, says D., that is not granted here (i.e., in the world of the living), since the Terrestrial Paradise was created especially for the benefit of humanity. Moreover, D. has been purified and perfected, ready at last to ascend to Heaven. This explains his ability to stare prolongedly at the sun without ill effect, as B. is able to do.

58-60. D. is able to stare at the sun for a while, neither for too long nor too briefly. He stares long enough to be able to make out sparks flying around its circumference, reminding him of molten iron spewing and bubbling in a fiery furnace or cauldron.

61-63. Although D. does not say so explicitly, it is implied that he and B. suddenly begin to ascend to Heaven. Their flight is so swift that the sun appears much closer in that brief instant of flight; it almost appears to D. that God (the One who can, i.e., the Omnipotent One), has redoubled the light of the sun, and that He has adorned Heaven with a second sun.

D. is unaware, as yet, that he is soaring upward toward Heaven, and believes himself to be still on the ground of the Terrestrial Paradise. The situation is in stark contrast to that in Hell or even in the earlier stages of D.’s ascent of the Mountain of Purgatory; there, he was heavy and laden with sin, and was consequently struggling exhaustedly with every breath and step upward. Here, now that he has been purified, he is climbing toward Paradise without any effort whatsoever. In this way, the purified state of the soul is equated to weightlessness.

64-66. B.’s eyes have fixed upon the Heavens (the eternal spheres), as they both ascend. D., on the other hand, removes his eyes from contemplation of the Heavens and turns to gaze upon Her face.

67-69. As D. gazes at B., he feels himself being transhumanized into a godlike creature, just as Glaucus did in the tale told by Ovid. Glaucus was a mythical fisherman of Anthedon in Euboea who saw with wonder that the fish he had caught, once laid down upon the grass of a strange new fishing spot that he had found, were able to jump back into the sea. Tentatively, Glaucus tried chewing on a few blades of this grass, and suddenly acquired the urge to plunge into the ocean himself, where his human nature was dissolved and he was eventually transformed into a marine god, the consort and kin of gods such as Triton and Oceanus. (see Meta. XIII: 898-968).

70-72. To have become transfigured into a creature that seems more divine than human is an experience that D. is incapable of describing adequately; yet this is what he is feeling as he ascends toward Heaven. Let the example of Glaucus, says D., suffice as a description of this experience, for anyone on whom Divine Grace will one day bestow Salvation. As St. Thomas Aquinas has written: The light makes the creature like God. The more such light there is in the mind, the more perfectly the mind sees God. (Summa Theol. I: 12:6).

73-75. The form of expression of this tercet is reminiscent of St. Paul’s declaration: I knew a man in Christ above fourteen years ago, (whether in the body, I cannot tell; or whether out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth;) such an one caught up to the third heaven. And I knew such a man, (whether in the body, or out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth;). (II Corinthians 12: 2-3). Further explanations of this tercet are given in the following: (a) in PURG. XXV: 37-75, the soul (that part new-made) is created after the body; (b) God is the Supreme Love that governs Heaven; (c) Supreme Light shines through B.’s eyes, into which D. is gazing, and it is this that is lifting him to Heaven, body and soul alike.

Therefore, D. is saying, in effect: God knows very well whether it is D.’s body and soul (all of him) that are being lifted toward Heaven, or merely his soul. Clearly, the former is the case.

76-81. The Empyrean is the heavenly site that is filled with desire for God and, according to D., is held to be motionless because it has in itself, with respect to each of its parts, that which its matter desires. This is the reason why the Primum Mobile has the swiftest movement, for because of the most fervent desire that each part of the ninth heaven has to be conjoined with every part of that divinest, tranquil heaven, to which it is contiguous, it revolves beneath it with such desire that its velocity is almost incomprehensible. (Conv. II: 3:9; translation by Richard Lansing). Thus, the desire to be united with God is the primary impulse for the motion of the heavenly spheres. Heaven now draws D.’s attention to Itself, as he hears the sweet harmony of the music of the spheres that emanates from high above. This music, which Pythagoras believed to emanate from the celestial spheres in their eternal revolutions, is an expression of God’s delight in the wonderful order of the Universe. God Himself composes this music, distributes it among the various spheres, conducts and performs it. As D. continues to ascend, enthralled by the sweet music he hears, he also observes a Heavenly fire above, stemming from the sun’s light, and filling the entire sky with its brilliant intensity. Never anywhere in the Universe (God’s Empire) did any deluge or raging river create such a sea as vast as the sea of light he is now beholding, says D., addressing God directly.

82-93. RESOLUTION OF ONE OF DANTE’S QUESTIONS: D. still believes himself to have remained in the Terrestrial Paradise, and is therefore agitated and confused by the sounds of the sweet harmony and the sight of that great light above; however, he does not dare to speak out and ask the reasons for these phenomena. B., however, can read his heart and, to soothe his confused soul, informs him that he is no longer on the earth, but is rising with Her toward Heaven at incalculable speed.

82-84. The sound of the music of the spheres is audible only from the great height to which D., unwittingly, has risen; for this reason, it is novel to him and arouses in him his customary curiosity. Also, the vast expanse of light that shines down on him from above inspires keenly felt curiosity in him. He is totally bewildered and eager to know the causes of these phenomena, more eager than ever before in his life; yet, he does not dare to ask B. any questions, for fear of offending Her further.

85-87. B. understands D.’s confusion completely, since She (like V. before Her) is able to read D.’s innermost thoughts and emotions. Thus, in order to allay D.’s perplexed state of mind, She opens Her mouth and begins to reply to his unstated question. As we learn in l. 95, She is smiling solicitously as She makes Her brief reply.

88-90. B. begins by mildly chiding D. for being so obtuse and unable to see where he is. She tells him that he is erroneous in his suppositions, which have addled his mind to such a point as to prevent him from seeing what has been before his eyes all along. If only he could shed these fixed, erroneous ideas and expose them for what they are, She says, he would be able to see the obvious truth for himself.

91-93. B. informs D. that he is no longer on earth, in the Terrestrial Paradise, as he erroneously believes himself to still be. She also says that not even a bolt of lightning rushing out from the Sphere of Fire (its own site) could fly as fast as he is flying now, for he is returning to Heaven, the shrine where resides God, to Whom his soul yearns to return. See the notes to PURG. IX: 28-30 and to PURG. XXXII: 109-111 for descriptions of the Sphere of Fire and its location in the Ptolemaic system. Also, as D. writes in Conv. IV: 12: the supreme desire of each thing, and the one that is first given to it by nature, is to return to its first cause. Now since God is the cause of our souls and has created them like himself . . .the soul desires above all else to return to him.; and again in Conv. IV: 28: the noble soul . . . returns to God as to that port from which it departed when it came to enter into the sea of this life (translations by Richard Lansing).

94-142. A NEW QUESTION ARISES IN DANTE’S MIND: His first question now having been resolved, yet another one arises in D.’s mind, and he finds the courage to voice it to B. How is it possible that he, possessing a substantial body, is able to fly upward? B. concisely explains how the order of the Universe makes this feat possible. All things in the Universe, She says, have their proper order, and such order renders them similar to God, the ultimate goal of all Creation. All natures, animate and inanimate alike, tend naturally to different ports in the great sea of existence, borne there by an instinctive power. Likewise, you and I, D., She says, are being borne ever upward toward the Empyrean by a similar force, the domain of eternal bliss and the final and true goal of man.

It is true that a creature may easily stray from its proper path, led there by the action of fallacious impulses; you, however, having been purified and reborn, as it were, are no more able to prevent your ascent than fire, when free of any impediment, is able to prevent its motion ever upward, toward its proper sphere.

94-99. D.’s first question regarding the music of the spheres and the great light had been answered by B.’s brief reply (l. 88-93); we also learn that She had been smiling when She gave that reply to his unsolicited question. Now a new question grips D. totally, which he compares to a net ensnaring him in its folds. D. cannot resist asking B. what is on his mind, first assuring Her that She has answered his first question admirably, and that he is completely contented with Her answer. How is it possible, asks D., that I am flying above the two lightest elements, namely fire and air, when I myself possess a body that has weight and substance? As D. himself observes in Conv. III: 3:6: by virtue of the nature of the simple body, which predominates in the subject, he (man) naturally loves to move downward; and therefore when he moves his body upward, he grows more weary. (translation by Richard Lansing).

100-105. On hearing D.’s second question, B. audibly lets out a sigh of pity and sorrow, inspired by realizing D.’s ignorance in the matter. D. compares the expression on Her face to that of an anxious mother at the bedside of her sick son who is feverish and in a delirium, as She begins her long explanation. All things in the Universe, She explains, have a natural order, or hierarchy, into which they are embedded, and naturally observe a mutual, unifying harmony that is in accordance with this order. This order is the model, or mold, for everything in the Universe to follow, in accordance with God’s command, and it is through this that everything comes to resemble Him. We may note that this idea, in conformance with Plato’s concept of ideal forms, was expressed by St. Thomas Aquinas in Summa Theol. I: 15:1: As then the world was not made by chance, but by God acting by His intellect, . . ., there must exist in the divine mind a form to the likeness of which the world was made.

106-108. In the Universe’s natural order that B. described, the rational, intellectual or higher creatures (mankind and the Blessed Beings of Heaven) recognize the imprint of God’s infinite wisdom and omnipotence. The Eternal Worth is God, the desired end of all things, in accordance with His plan and the natural order described in l. 100-105. The Lord hath made all things for himself: yea, even the wicked for the day of evil. (Proverbs 16:4).

109-111. All things that have been created have a natural inclination that varies in accordance with their place and role in the appointed order. Some are nearer to God (their Source), some not as near. As St. Thomas Aquinas has said (Summa Theol. I: 59:1): since all things flow from the Divine will, all things in their own way are inclined by appetite towards good, but in different ways. Some are inclined to good by their natural inclination, without knowledge, as plants and inanimate bodies. Such inclination towards good is called a natural appetite. Others, again, are inclined towards good, but with some knowledge; not that they know the aspect of goodness, but that they apprehend some particular good; as in the sense, which knows the sweet, the white, and so on. The inclination which follows this apprehension is called a sensitive appetite. Other things, again, have an inclination towards good, but with a knowledge whereby they perceive the aspect of goodness; this belongs to the intellect. This is most perfectly inclined towards what is good; not, indeed, as if it were merely guided by another towards some particular good only, like things devoid of knowledge, nor towards some particular good only, as things which have only sensitive knowledge, but as inclined towards good in general. Such inclination is termed will..

Also, D. has this to say in Conv. III: 7:5: Thus God’s goodness is received in one way by the separate substances (that is, by the Angels), who have no material dimension and are, as it were, transparent by virtue of the purity of their form; and in another way by the human soul, which is partly free from matter and partly impeded by it, like a man who is entirely in the water except for his head, of whom it cannot be said that he is entirely in the water or entirely out of it; and in another by the animals, whose souls are entirely confined to matter, but are nevertheless somewhat ennobled; and in another by the plants; and in another by the minerals; and by the earth in a way different from that of the other elements, because it is the most material, and therefore the most remote from and the most out of proportion with the first, most simple, and most noble virtue, which alone is intellectual, namely, God.

112-114. Employing a maritime metaphor (an effective figure of speech that D. is fond of using, as we have often seen), B. describes the God-given instinct of all creatures to steer across the vast sea of existence in order to reach their diverse ports, wherever these may lie, i.e. to exist within the vast expanse of the Universe and to attain their diverse goals, according to the natures of the creatures involved.

115-117. This instinct, alluded to in l. 112, carries all fire up to the Sphere of Fire, which lies directly below the Sphere of the Moon. As was believed, and as was explained in the n. to PURG. XVIII: 28-33, fire has an affinity for higher altitudes, and seeks to rise up to its natural sphere, above the earth, where it causes the sun and the moon to shine. The same affinity, which may be called Love, for lack of better terminology, causes brute animals, those mortal creatures without intelligence or rationality, to instinctively seek their particular place in the natural order of things.

The earth’s gravity, if so it may be termed, draws these affinities to itself and unites them. D. has this to say about such natural tendencies in Conv. III: 3 (as translated by Richard Lansing): every thing . . . has its own special love. As the simple bodies have within themselves a natural love for their proper place – and this is why earth always inclines toward its center, why fire has a natural love of the circumference above, near the heaven of the Moon, and so always rises toward it--so the first of the compound bodies, such as minerals, have a love for the place where their generation is brought about, and there they grow and there they acquire vigor and power; thus we find that the lodestone always takes its power from the place where it was generated. Plants, which are the first of the living things, have a more manifest love for certain places, according to the requirements of their constitution, and so we find that certain plants almost always take root near water, and certain others on summits of mountains, and certain others on slopes and at the foot of hills, which, if transplanted, either wholly perish or live a kind of melancholy life, as things separated from what is friendly to them. Brute animals have a more manifest love not only for places, but we find moreover that they love one another. Men have their proper love for things that are perfectly virtuous. And since man – although his whole form consists of a single substance for its nobility -- has in himself a divine nature, he has the power to possess these things and all these loves, and he does possess them all. For by virtue of the nature of the simple body, which predominates in the subject, he naturally loves to move downward; and therefore when he moves his body upward, he grows more weary.

118-120. Not only do creatures that are devoid of intelligence and reason possess these instincts, says B., but also those higher creatures, such as man and the Angels, who both possess intellect and can feel responsible Love, which is to say, who possess Free Will. The metaphor of an archer’s bow is applied to these natural instincts with which everything is endowed, a bow that launches the arrow of Love toward its proper end; this metaphor is continued in l. 124-126.

121-123. God keeps a vast inventory, as it were, of everything in the Universe that He created, and He keeps track of these things, to see whether they follow their proper course. One of the things He tends to is the proper maintenance of the Empyrean, His own domain of light, ensuring that It remains perpetually still, while the Primum Mobile spins with phenomenal velocity within It. As we recall (see notes to PURG. XXVIII: 103-108 and PURG. XXXIII: 88-90), the Primum Mobile is the Sphere of the Angels, just internal to the Empyrean, spinning at a speed greater than that of any spheres internal to it, and the moving force that drives all such inner spheres. The Empyrean, on the other hand, is immobile and unchanging, possessing as It does neither spatial dimensions nor materiality; see the n. to 76-81 above.

124-126. B. informs D. that they are on their way to the Empyrean, as has been decreed by God. As previously stated, this is the ultimate goal of everything in the Universe, namely to be once more united with God. The natural instinct that drives them, like a bowstring releasing its arrow, is launching them toward the Empyrean. This is the goal of everything in the Universe, where all (sentient) things are to be fulfilled with contentment and eternal bliss.

127-132. B. admits that many times, a work of art, even if well-conceived by its creator, may not be properly executed, perhaps due to the unresponsive nature of the material used (said to be deaf to the artist’s intent and conception). As D. says in Conv. II: 1: in every natural or artificial thing it is impossible to proceed to the form unless the subject on which the form must be imposed is prepared first – just as it is impossible for a piece of jewelry to acquire its form if the material (that is, its subject) is not first arranged and prepared, or a chest to acquire its form if the material (that is, the wood) is not first arranged and prepared. Similarly, She says, an intellectual creature may stray from the path leading to God and fail to obey his natural, impulse to seek out his Creator, an impulse that God has imprinted upon him at birth, like an artist sketching a work of art. Having strayed in this way, he is inclined to evil, due to his perverse will alone. It is clear that B., Who is speaking directly to D., is not speaking in mere generalities here.

133-135. Just as we see a bolt of lightning fall to earth from a dark cloud, says B., we may see that the initial, primitive impulse of a man, namely the instinct to seek out God, the Supreme Good, is perverted and seduced by a misuse of his Free Will and twists back down to earth and to the false desire of terrestrial gains.

136-138. B. tells D. that, in Her view, he should no more wonder at the fact that he is ascending than at beholding a river’s waterfall cascading from a high mountain to the valley floor below. Given Her argument up to this point, both things are perfectly natural phenomena.

139-142. Indeed, says B. in conclusion, the true marvel would have been if D. had remained standing on earth, given that he had no impediment to hold him back; this would have been no less amazing than the spectacle of a raging fire that remained on earth in absolute silence and stillness (contrary to its natural behavior, which would be to seek the Sphere of Fire high above). The impediment of which B. speaks is that imposed by sin and misguided appetites; prior to his ascent, D. had been freed of such unworthy encumbrances, having now become renewed and pure, my erstwhile fears bestilled, and well-disposed to climb up to the stars. (PURG. XXXIII: 144-145).

Some of the theologians of D.’s time believed that the natural tendency of man was to fly like a bird, since men’s souls were light and insubstantial; unfortunately, men had lost this ability, due to the many sins weighing them down. It was further believed, however, that on Judgment Day, when the spirits of the blessed will be reunited with their bodies, this natural lightness will be restored, and the resurrected bodies, reunited with their souls, will fly home to the Empyrean.

Having concluded Her explanatory lecture to D., all of his questions (for now)

are answered and his agitation has been stilled. Her maternal instincts having been fulfilled, B. turns once more Heavenward, in contemplation of the infinite.

CANTO II

The First Sphere: the Moon

Admonition to the readers –

Dante and Beatrice arrive on the Moon –

The spots on the Moon and Dante’s explanation for their cause –

The true reason for the spots on the Moon –

O ye whose skiffs have thus far come along,

Wanting to hear, now follow, come behind

My ship’s wake, as it breaks forth into song-. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .3

Turn back, that you may see your shores outlined:

Don’t put to sea, for you may go astray

And, losing me, your way you’d never find.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .6

No one has sailed the course I now take, aye:

Minerva blows my sheets, Apollo steers,

And toward the Bears, nine Muses point the way.. . . . . . . . . . . . .9

You blessed few who, sometime through the years,

Ate of the bread of Angels most sublime,

Which feeds but never sates you or your peers,. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .12

Your keels can take the sealanes maritime

And follow in my wake, before, anew,

The parted waves reclose on my high rhyme.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .15

Those glorious men who passed Colchis, and who

Saw Jason turned into an ox-plowman,

Did not wonder as much as you will do.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .18

Our innate thirst, perpetual in span,

For God’s Realm, bore us almost as fast

As the sky’s motion, seen since time began.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .21

Beatrice looked up, and I at Her, steadfast;

Perhaps in the same time a shaft that’s shot

May rest, may fly, and from the nock be cast,. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .24

I saw that I had reached a wondrous spot

That drew my eyes to it; hence, She to whom

My cares could not stay hidden, nor my thought,. . . . . . . . . . . . .27

Turned toward me, joy and beauty both in bloom,

And said, "Thank God, Who raised us to this height,

To this first star His power doth illume.". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .30

We seemed enveloped by a cloud quite bright,

Dense, compact, polished, as if it were made

Of diamond that the sun strikes with its light.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .33

This