Hath disappear'd; not that aught else impedes
Thy going upward, save the shades of night.
These, with the want of power, perplex the will.
With them thou haply mightst return beneath,
Or to and fro around the mountain's side
Wander, while day is in the horizon shut."

My master straight, as wondering at his speech, Exclaim'd: "Then lead us quickly, where thou sayst That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight."

A little space we were removed from thence, When I perceived the mountain hollow'd out, Even as large valleys hollow'd out on earth. "That way," the escorting spirit cried, "we go, Where in a bosom the high bank recedes: And thou await renewal of the day."

Betwixt the steep and plain, a crooked path
Led us traverse into the ridge's side,

Where more than half the sloping edge expires.
Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refined,
And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood
Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds
But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers
Placed in that fair recess, in color all
Had been surpass'd, as great surpasses less.
Nor nature only there lavish'd her hues,
But of the sweetness of a thousand smells
A rare and undistinguish'd fragrance made.
"Salve Regina," on the grass and flowers,
Here chanting, I beheld those spirits sit,
Who not beyond the valley could be seen.

"Before the westering sun sink to his bed,"
Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn'd,
"Mid those, desire not that I lead ye on.
For from this eminence ye shall discern
Better the acts and visages of all,

Than, in the nether vale, among them mix'd.
He, who sits high above the rest, and seems
To have neglected that he should have done,
And to the others' song moves not his lip,

"Salve Regina." The beginning of a prayer to the Virgin.

The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal'd
The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,

So that by others she revives but slowly.
He, who with kindly visage comforts him,
Sway'd in that country," where the water springs,
That Moldaw's river to the Elbe, and Elbe
Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar" his name:

Who in his swaddling-clothes was of more worth
Than Wenceslaus his son, a bearded man,
Pamper'd with rank luxuriousness and ease,
And that one with the nose deprest,' who close
In counsel seems with him of gentle look,8
Flying, expired, withering the lily's flower.

Look there, how he doth knock against his breast.
The other ye behold, who for his cheek

Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent signs.
They are the father and the father-in-law

Of Gallia's bane: his vicious life they know

And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus. "He, so robust of limb,10 who measure keeps

In song with him of feature prominent,11
With every virtue bore his girdle braced.
And if that stripling,12 who behind him sits,

5" That country." Bohemia.

8" Ottocar." King of Bohemia, who was killed in the battle of Marchfield, fought with Rodolph, August 26, 1278. Wenceslaus II, his son, who succeeded him in the Kingdom of Bohemia, died in 1305. The latter is again taxed with luxury in the "Paradise," xix. 123.

7 That one with the nose deprest." Philip III, of France, father of Philip IV. He died in 1285, at Perpignan, in his retreat from Arragon.

8" Him of gentle lookk." Henry, of Navarre, father of Jane married to Philip IV, of France, whom Dante calls mal di Francia."-" Gallia's bane."

"Gallia's bane." G. Villani, lib. vii. cap. cxlvi. speaks with equal resentment of Philip IV. "In 1291, on the night of the calends of May, Philip le Bel, King of France, by advice of Biccio and Musciatto Franzesi, ordered all the Italians, who were in his country and realm, to be seized, under pretence of seizing the money-lenders, but thus he caused the good merchants also to be seized and ransomed; for which he was much blamed and held in great abhorrence. And from thenceforth the realm of France fell evermore into degradation and decline. And it is observable that

between the taking of Acre ard this seizure in France, the merchants of Florence received great damage and ruin of their property."

10" He, so robust of limb." Peter III, called the Great, King of Arragon, who died in 1285, leaving four sons, Alonzo, James, Frederick, and Peter. The two former succeeded him in the Kingdom of Arragon, and Frederick in that of Sicily.

11" Him of feature prominent." " Dal maschio naso "-" with the masculine nose." Charles I, King of Naples, Count of Anjou, and brother of St. Louis. He died in 1284. The annalist of Florence remarks that "there had been no sovereign of the house of France, since the time of Charlemagne, by whom Charles was surpassed either in military renown and prowess, or in the loftiness of his understanding."

12 That stripling." Either (as the old commentators suppose) Alonzo III, King of Arragon, the eldest son of Peter III, who died in 1291, at the age of 27; or, according to Venturi, Peter the youngest son. The former was a young prince of virtue sufficient to have justified the eulogium and the hopes of Dante.

King after him had lived, his virtue then
From vessel to like vessel had been pour'd;
Which may not of the other heirs be said.
By James and Frederick his realms are held;
Neither the better heritage obtains.
Rarely into the branches of the tree

Doth human worth mount up: and so ordains
He who bestows it, that as his free gift

13

It may be call'd. To Charles 18 my words apply

No less than to his brother in the song;

Which Pouille and Provençe now with grief confess.

So much that plant degenerates from its seed,

As, more than Beatrix and Margaret,
Costanza 14 still boasts of her valorous spouse.

16

"Behold the King of simple life and plain,
Harry of England,15 sitting there alone:
He through his branches better issue 18 spreads.
"That one, who, on the ground, beneath the rest,
Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft,

Is William, that brave Marquis," for whose cause,
The deed of Alexandria and his war
Makes Montferrat and Canavese weep."

18" To Charles." "Al Nausto ""Charles II, King of Naples, is no less inferior to his father, Charles I, than James and Frederick to theirs, Peter III."

14" Costanza." Widow of Peter III. She has been already mentioned in the third Canto, v. 112. By Beatrix and Margaret are probably meant two of the daughters of Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence; the latter married to St. Louis of France, the former to his brother Charles of Anjou, King of Naples. See "Paradise,' Canto vi. 135.

Dante therefore considers Peter as the most illustrious of the three monarchs.

15 Harry of England." Henry III. The contemporary annalist speaks of this King in similar terms. G. Villani, lib. v. cap. iv. From Richard was born

Henry, who reigned after him, who was a plain man and of good faith, but of little courage."

10

Better issue." Edward I, of whose glory our Poet was perhaps a witness, in his visit to England. "From the said Henry was born the good King Edward, who reigns in our times, who has done great things, whereof we shall make mention in due place."-G. Villani, ibid.

17" William, that brave Marquis." William, Marquis of Montferrat, was treacherously seized by his own subjects, at Alessandria in Lombardy, A. D. 1290, and ended his life in prison. A war ensued between the people of Alessandria and those of Montferrat and the Canavese, now part of Piedmont.

CANTO VIII

ARGUMENT.-Two angels, with flaming swords broken at the points, descend to keep watch over the valley, into which Virgil and Dante entering by desire of Sordello, our Poet meets with joy the spirit of Nino, the judge of Gallura, one who was well known to him. Meantime three exceedingly bright stars appear near the pole, and a serpent creeps subtly into the valley, but flees at hearing the approach of those angelic guards. Lastly, Conrad Malaspina predicts to our Poet his future banishment.

OW was the hour that wakens fond desire

Now

In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart
Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,

And pilgrim newly on his road with love.

Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far,
That seems to mourn for the expiring day:
When I, no longer taking heed to hear,

Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark
One risen from its seat, which with its hand

Audience implored. Both palms it join'd and raised,
Fixing its steadfast gaze toward the east,
As telling God, "I care for naught beside."
"Te Lucis Ante," so devoutly then
Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain,
That all my sense in ravishment was lost.
And the rest after, softly and devout,

Follow'd through all the hymn, with upward gaze
Directed to the bright supernal wheels.

Here, reader! for the truth make thine eyes keen:
For of so subtle texture is this veil,

That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark'd.
I saw that gentle band silently next

Look up, as if in expectation held,

Pale and in lowly guise; and, from on high,

I saw, forth issuing descend beneath,

Two angels, with two flame-illumined swords,
Broken and mutilated of their points.

Green as the tender leaves but newly born,

1 "Te Lucis Ante." "Te lucis ante terminum," says Lombardi, is the first verse of the hymn sung by the Church

in the last part of the sacred office termed compieta," a service which our Chaucer calls "complin."

Their vesture was, the which, by wings as green
Beaten, they drew behind them, fann'd in air.
A little over us one took his stand;
The other lighted on the opposing hill;

So that the troop were in the midst contain'd.
Well I descried the whiteness on their heads;
But in their visages the dazzled eye

Was lost, as faculty that by too much
Is overpower'd. "From Mary's bosom both
Are come," exclaim'd Sordello, “as a guard
Over the vale, 'gainst him, who hither tends,
The serpent." Whence, not knowing by which path
He came, I turn'd me round; and closely press'd,
All frozen, to my leader's trusted side.

Sordello paused not: "To the valley now (For it is time) let us descend; and hold

Converse with those great shadows: haply much
Their sight may please ye." Only three steps down
Methinks I measured, ere I was beneath,

And noted one who look'd as with desire

To know me. Time was now that air grew dim;
Yet not so dim, that, 'twixt his eyes and mine,
It clear'd not up what was conceal'd before.
Mutually toward each other we advanced.
Nino, thou courteous judge! 2 what joy I felt,
When I perceived thou wert not with the bad.
No salutation kind on either part
Was left unsaid. He then inquired:

"How long, Since thou arrived'st at the mountain's foot,

Over the distant waves?" "Oh!" answer'd I,

'Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came;

And still in my first life, thus journeying on,

The other strive to gain." Soon as they heard
My words, he and Sordello backward drew,

As suddenly amazed. To Virgil one,

The other to a spirit turn'd, who near

Was seated, crying: "Conrad! up with speed:

Come, see what of his grace high God hath will'd."

"Nino, thou courteous judge." Nino di Gallura de' Visconti, nephew to Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi, and betrayed by him.

8" Conrad." Currado, father to Marcello Malaspina.