Read The Portable Dante Page 64


  she had said these words, not only she but all the others showed by their expression that they were waiting for my answer. I said: “Ladies, the goal of my love once consisted in receiving the greeting of this lady to whom you are, perhaps, referring, and in this greeting rested the bliss which was the goal of all my desires. But since it pleased her to deny it to me, my lord, Love, through his grace, has placed all my bliss in something that cannot fail me. ” With this the ladies began to speak among themselves and, just as sometimes the rain can be seen falling mingled with beautiful flakes of snow, so did I seem to hear their words issuing forth mingled with sighs. After they had spoken to each other for awhile, the one who had first addressed me spoke to me again, saying: “We beg you to tell us where this bliss of yours now rests. ” And I answered her: “In those words that praise my lady. ” And the one who had asked me the question said: “If you are telling us the truth, then those words you addressed to her describing your condition must have been written with some other intention. ” Then I, shamed by her words, departed from these ladies, saying to myself: “Since there is so much bliss in words that praise my lady, why have I ever written in any other way?” Therefore, I resolved that from then on I would always choose as the theme of my poetry whatever would be in praise of this most gracious one. Then, reflecting more on this, it seemed to me that I had undertaken a theme too lofty for myself, so that I did not dare to begin writing, and I remained for several days with the desire to write and the fear of beginning.

  XIX

  Then it happened that while walking down a path along which ran a very clear stream, I suddenly felt a great desire to write a poem, and I began to think how I would go about it. It seemed to me that to speak of my lady would not be becoming unless I were to address my words to ladies, and not just to any ladies, but only to those who are worthy, not merely to women. Then, I must tell you, my tongue, as if moved of its own accord, spoke and said: Ladies who have intelligence of love. With great delight I decided to keep these words in mind and to use them as the beginning of my poem. Later, after returning to the aforementioned city and reflecting for several days, I began writing a can- zone, 38 using this beginning, and I constructed it in a way that will appear below in its divisions. The canzone begins: Ladies who have.

  Ladies who have intelligence of love, I wish to speak to you about my lady, not thinking to complete her litany, but to talk in order to relieve my heart. I tell you, when I think of her perfection, Love lets me feel the sweetness of his presence, and if at that point I could still feel bold, my words could make all mankind fall in love. I do not want to choose a tone too lofty, for fear that such ambition make me timid; instead I shall discuss her graciousness, defectively, to measure by her merit, with you, ladies and maidens whom Love knows, for such a theme is only fit for you.

  The mind of God receives an angel’s prayer: “My Lord, there appears to be upon your earth a living miracle, proceeding from a radiant soul whose light reaches us here. ” Heaven, that lacks its full perfection only in lacking her, pleads for her to the Lord, and every saint is begging for this favor. Compassion for His creatures still remains, for God, who knows they are speaking of my lady, says: “Chosen ones, now suffer happily that she, your hope, live her appointed time for the sake of one down there who fears her loss, and who shall say unto the damned in Hell:39 ’I have beheld the hope of Heaven’s blest. ’ “

  My lady is desired in highest Heaven. Now let me tell you something of her power. A lady who aspires to graciousness should seek her company, for where she goes Love drives a killing frost into vile hearts that freezes and destroys what they are thinking; should such a one insist on looking at her, he is changed to something noble or he dies. And if she finds one worthy to behold her, that man will feel her power for salvation when she accords to him her salutation, which humbles him till he forgets all wrongs. And God has graced her with a greater gift: whoever speaks with her shall speak with Him.

  Love says of her: “How can a mortal body achieve such beauty and such purity?” He looks again and swears it must be true: God does have something new in mind for earth. Her color is the pallor of the pearl, 40 a paleness perfect for a gracious lady; she is the best that Nature can achieve and by her mold all beauty tests itself; her eyes, wherever she may choose to look, send forth their spirits radiant with love to strike the eyes of anyone they meet, and penetrate until they find the heart. You will see Love depicted on her face, there where no one dares hold his gaze too long.

  My song, I know that you will go and speak to many ladies when I bid you leave, and since I brought you up as Love’s true child, ingenuous and plain, let me advise you to beg of anybody you may meet: “Please help me find my way; I have been sent to the lady with whose praise I am adorned. ” And so that you may not have gone in vain, do not waste time with any vulgar people; do what you can to show your meaning only to ladies, or to men who may be worthy; they will direct you by the quickest path. You will find Love and with him find our lady. Speak well of me to Love, it is your duty.

  In order that this canzone may be better understood I shall divide it more carefully than the previous poems. I first divide it into three parts: the first part is an introduction to the words that follow; the second continues the theme treated; the third is, as it were, a servant to the words that precede it. The second part begins: The mind of God, the third: My song, I know. Now the first part falls into four subdivisions. In the first I tell to whom I wish to write; in the second I tell about the condition in which I find myself whenever I think of her perfection, and how I would write if I did not lose courage; in the third I mention the way in which I intend to write about her in order not to be intimidated; in the fourth, referring again to those to whom I mean to write, I give the reason why I have chosen them. The second begins: I tell you; the third: I do not want; the fourth: with you, ladies.

  Then, when I say: The mind of God, I begin to talk about my lady, and this part falls into two subdivisions. In the first I tell how she is thought of in Heaven; in the second I tell how she is thought of on earth: My lady is desired. This second part, in turn, is divided into two. In the first I describe the nobility of her soul, telling about the effective powers that proceed from it; in the second I describe the nobility of her body, telling about some of its beautiful qualities: Love says of her. The second part is in turn divided into two. In the first I speak of certain beautiful qualities involving particular parts of her body: her eyes, wherever. This is again divided in two. First I speak of her eyes, which are the initiators of love; then I speak of her mouth, 41 which is the supreme desire of my love. So that here and now any perverse thought may be dispelled, let him who reads this remember what has been previously said about this lady’s greeting, which was an action of her mouth, and which was the goal of all my desires so long as I was allowed to receive it.

  Then when I say, My song, I know that you, I am adding a stanza as a sort of handmaiden42 to the others. In this stanza I tell what I want my song to do; because this last part is easy to understand, I do not bother to divide it further. Certainly, to make the meaning of this canzone still clearer, I should have to make the divisions even more minute; however, if anyone is not intelligent enough to understand43 it from the divisions already made, I would not mind in the least if he would simply leave my poem alone. As it is, I am afraid I may have shared its meaning with too many readers because of these divisions I have already made —if it should happen that many would bother to read them.

  XX

  After this canzone had become rather well known, one of my friends who had heard it was moved to ask me44 to write about the nature of Love, having perhaps, from reading my poem, acquired more confidence in me than I deserved. So, thinking that after my treatment of the previous theme it would be good to treat the theme of Love and, feeling that I owed this to my friend, I decided to compose a poem dealing with Love. And I wrote this sonnet, which begins: Love and the gracious heart.

 
; Love and the gracious heart are a single thing, as that wise poet tells us in his poem:45 and one can no more be without the other than can the reasoning mind without its reason. Nature, when in a loving mood, creates them: Love to be king, the heart to be his home, a place for Love to rest while he is sleeping, perhaps for just a while, or for much longer.

  And then the beauty of a virtuous lady appears, to please the eyes, and in the heart desire for the pleasing thing is born; and this desire may linger in the heart until Love’s spirit is aroused from sleep. A man of worth has the same effect on ladies.

  This sonnet is divided into two parts. In the first I speak of Love as a potential force;46 in the second I speak of him as potentiality realized in action. The second part begins: And then the beauty. The first part is again divided into two: first, I tell in what kind of substance this potentiality resides; secondly, I tell how this substance and this potentiality are brought into being, and how the one is related to the other as matter is to form. 47 The second subdivision begins: Nature, when. Then when I say: And then the beauty, I explain how this potentiality is realized in action: first, how it is realized in a man, then how it is realized in a lady, beginning: A man of worth.

  XXI

  After having dealt with Love in the last sonnet, I felt a desire to write more, this time in praise of that most gracious lady, showing how, through her, this Love is awakened, and how she not only awakens him there where he sleeps but also, how she, miraculously working, brings him into existence there where he does not potentially exist. And so I wrote this sonnet which begins: The power of Love.

  The power of Love borne in my lady’s eyes imparts its grace to all she looks upon. All turn to gaze at her when she walks by, and when she greets a man his heart beats fast, the color leaves his face, he bows his head and sighs to think of all his imperfections. Anger and pride are forced to flee from her. Help me to honor her, most gracious ladies.

  Humility and every sweet conception bloom in the heart of those who hear her speak. (Praise to the one who first saw what she was!) The image of her when she starts to smile dissolves within the mind and melts away, a miracle too rich and strange to hold.

  This sonnet has three parts. In the first I tell how this lady actualizes this potentiality by means of her most gracious eyes; in the third I tell how she does the same by means of her most gracious mouth; and between these two parts is a very small part, which is like a beggar asking for help from the preceding and following parts, and it begins: Help me to honor her. The third begins: Humility. The first part divides into three. In the first I tell how she miraculously makes gracious whatever she looks upon, and this is as much as to say that she brings Love into potential existence there where he does not exist; in the second I tell how she activates Love in the hearts of all those whom she sees; in the third I tell of what she miraculously effects in their hearts. The second part begins: Men turn to gaze, and the third: and when she greets. Then when I say: Help me to honor, I indicate to whom I wish to speak, calling upon ladies for their assistance in honoring my lady. Then when I say: Humility, I repeat what I said in the first part, using, this time, two actions of her mouth: the first is her sweet manner of speaking, the second is her miraculous smile. I do not mention the effect of the latter on people’s hearts, since the memory is not capable of retaining a smile like hers or its effects.

  XXII

  Not many days after this, according to the will of the Lord of Glory (who Himself accepted death), he who had been the father48 of such a miraculous being as this most gracious Beatrice clearly was, departed from this life, passing most certainly into eternal glory. Since such a departure is sorrowful to those who remain and who have been friends of the deceased; and since there is no friendship more intimate than that of a good father for a good child, or of a good child for a good father; and since this lady possessed the highest degree of goodness; and since her father, as is believed by many, and is the truth, was exceedingly good—then it is clear that this lady was filled with bitterest sorrow. And since it was the custom of this city for ladies to gather with ladies and men with men on such occasions, many ladies were assembled in that place where Beatrice wept piteously. I saw several of them returning from her house and heard them talking about this most gracious one and how she mourned; among their words I heard: “She grieves so that anyone who sees her would surely die of pity. ” Then these ladies passed by me, and I was left in such a sad state that tears kept running down my face so that I often had to cover my eyes with my hands. I would have hidden myself as soon as I felt the tears coming, but I hoped to hear more about her, since I was standing where most of those ladies would pass by me after taking leave of her. And so, while I stayed in the same place, more ladies passed by me talking to each other, saying: “Who of us can ever be happy again after hearing this lady grieve so piteously?” After these, other ladies passed, saying as they came: “This man here is weeping exactly as if he had seen her, as we have. ” Then came others who said: “Look at him! He is so changed, he doesn’t seem to be the same person. ” And so, as the ladies passed, I heard their words about her and about me, as I have just related. After reflecting awhile, I decided, since I had such an excellent theme, to write a poem in which I would include everything I had heard these ladies say. And since I would have been glad to question them, if I had not thought it would be indiscreet, I presented my theme as if I had asked them questions and they had answered me. 49 I composed two sonnets: in the first I ask those questions which I had wanted to ask; in the other I give the ladies’ answer, using what I had heard them say and presenting it as if they had said it in reply to me. The first sonnet begins: O you who bear, and the other: Are you the one.

  O you who bear a look of resignation, moving with eyes downcast to show your grief, where are you coming from? Your coloring appears to be the hue of grief itself. Is it our gracious lady you have seen bathing with tears Love’s image in her face? O ladies, tell me what my heart tells me: I see her grace in every step you take.

  And if you come from so profound a grief, may it please you to stay with me awhile and tell me truly what you know of her. I see your eyes, I see how they have wept, and how you come retreating all undone; my heart is touched and shaken at the sight.

  This sonnet divides into two parts. In the first I address these ladies and ask them if they come from my lady, telling them that I believe they do, since they come back as if made more gracious; in the second I ask them to talk to me about her. The second part begins: And if you come.

  Here follows the other sonnet, composed in the way explained previously:

  Are you the one that often spoke to us about our lady, and to us alone? Your tone of voice, indeed, resembles his, but in your face we find another look. Why do you weep so bitterly? Pity would melt the heart of anyone who sees you. Have you seen her weep, too, and now cannot conceal from us the sorrow in your heart?

  Leave grief to us; the path of tears is ours (to try to comfort us would be a sin), we are the ones who heard her sobbing words. Her face proclaims the agony she feels; if anyone dared look into her eyes, he would have died, drowned in his tears of grief.

  This sonnet has four parts according to the four responses of the ladies for whom I speak, and since they are made evident enough in the sonnet, I do not bother to explain the meaning of the parts: I merely indicate where they occur. The second begins: Why do you weep, the third: Leave grief to us, the fourth: Her face proclaims.

  XXIII

  A few days after this it happened that my body was afflicted by a painful disease which made me suffer intense anguish continuously for nine days; I became so weak that I was forced to lie in bed like a person paralyzed. Now, on the ninth day, when the pain was almost unbearable, a thought came to me which was about my lady. After thinking about her awhile, I returned to thoughts of my feeble condition and, realizing how short life is, even if one is healthy, I began to weep silently about the misery of life. Then, sighing deeply, I said to
myself: “It is bound to happen that one day the most gracious Beatrice will die. ” At that, such a frenzy seized me that I closed my eyes and, agitated like one in delirium, began to imagine things: as my mind started wandering, there appeared to me certain faces of ladies with dishevelled hair, and they were saying to me: “You are going to die. ” And then after these ladies there appeared to me other faces strange and horrible to look at, who were saying: “You are dead. ” While my imagination was wandering like this, I came to the point that I no longer knew where I was. And I seemed to see ladies preternaturally sad, their hair dishevelled, weeping as they made their way down a street. And I seemed to see the sun grow dark, giving the stars a color that would have made me swear that they were weeping. And it seemed to me that the birds flying through the air fell to earth dead, and there were violent earthquakes. 50

  Bewildered as I dreamed, and terrified, I imagined that a friend of mine came to tell me: “Then you don’t know? Your miraculous lady has departed from this world. ” At that I began to weep most piteously, and I wept not only in my dream, I wept with my eyes, wet with real tears. I imagined that I looked up at the sky, and I seemed to see a multitude of angels returning above, and they had before them a little pure-white cloud. It seemed to me that these angels were singing in glory, and the words of their song seemed to be: Osanna in excelsis;51 the rest I could not seem to hear. Then it seemed that my heart, which was so full of love, said to me: “It is true, our lady lies dead. ” And hearing that, it seemed to me I went to see the body in which that most noble and blessed soul had dwelt, and in the intensity of my hallucination I saw this lady dead. And it seemed that ladies were covering her head with a white veil, and her face seemed to have an expression of such joyous acceptance that it said to me: “I am contemplating the fountainhead of peace. ” At the sight of her in this dream I felt such a serenity that I called upon Death and said: “Sweet Death, come to me. Do not be unkind to me: you should be gracious, considering where you have just been. So, come to me, for I earnestly desire you, and you can see that I do, for I already wear your color. ” And when I had witnessed the administering of the sorrowful rites customarily performed on the bodies of the dead, it seemed I returned to my room and from there looked toward Heaven, and so vivid was my dream that, weeping, I began to speak aloud: “O most beautiful soul, how blessed is he who beholds you!”