{"collection":"chr","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/chr/dante/pu28.htm","path":"chr/dante/pu28.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/chr/dante/pu28.htm","text":"Sacred Texts\u00a0\n Christianity Index\u00a0\n Divine Comedy Index\u00a0\n Previous: Purgatory Canto 27\u00a0\n Next: Purgatory Canto 29\u00a0\n \n \n \n Canto XXVIII\n \n \n Argument\n \n \n Dante wanders through the forest of the terrestrial Paradise, till he is\n stopped by a stream, on the other side of which he beholds a fair lady,\n culling flowers. He speaks to her; and she, in reply, explains to him certain\n things touching the nature of that place, and tells that the water, which\n flows between them, is here called Lethe, and in another place has the name of\n Eunoe.\n \n \n Through that celestial forest, whose thick shade\n With lively greenness the new - springing day\n Attemper'd, eager now to roam, and search\n Its limits round, forthwith I left the bank;\n Along the champain leisurely my way\n Pursuing, o'er the ground, that on all sides\n Delicious odour breathed. A pleasant air,\n That intermitted never, never veer'd,\n Smote on my temples, gently, as a wind\n Of softest influence: at which the sprays,\n Obedient all, lean'd trembling to that part[1]\n Where first the holy mountain casts his shade;\n Yet were not so disorder'd, but that still\n Upon their top the feather'd quiristers\n Applied their wonted art, and with full joy\n Welcomed those hours of prime, and warbled shrill\n Amid the leaves, that to their jocund lays\n Kept tenour; even as from branch to branch,\n Along the piny forests on the shore\n Of Chiassi, rolls the gathering melody,\n When Eolus hath from his cavern loosed\n The dripping south. Already had my steps,\n Though slow, so far into that ancient wood\n Transported me, I could not ken the place\n Where I had enter'd; when, behold! my path\n Was bounded by a rill, which, to the left,\n With little rippling waters bent the grass\n That issued from its brink. On earth no wave\n How clean soe'er, that would not seem to have\n \n \n [1: \"To that part.\" The west.]\n \n \n Some mixture in itself, compared with this,\n Transpicuous clear; yet darkly on it roll'd,\n Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne'er\n Admits or sun or moon - light there to shine.\n \n \n My feet advanced not; but my wondering eyes\n Pass'd onward, o'er the streamlet to survey\n The tender May - bloom, flush'd through many a hue,\n In prodigal variety: and there,\n As object, rising suddenly to view,\n That from our bosom every thought beside\n With the rare marvel chases, I beheld\n A lady[2] all alone, who, singing, went,\n And culling flower from flower, wherewith her way\n Was all o'er painted. \"Lady beautiful!\n Thou, who (if looks, that use to speak the heart,\n Art worthy of our trust) with love's own beam\n Dost warm thee,\" thus to her my speech I framed;\n \"Ah! please thee hither toward the streamlet bend\n Thy steps so near, that I may list thy song.\n Beholding thee and this fair place, methinks,\n I call to mind where wander'd and how look'd\n Proserpine, in that season, when her child\n The mother lost, and she the bloomy spring.\"\n \n \n [2: Most of the commentators suppose that this lady, who in the last\n Canto is called Matilda, is the Countess Matilda, who endowed the Holy See\n with the estates called the Patrimony of St. Peter, and died in 1115. But it\n seems more probable that she should be intended for an allegorical personage.]\n \n \n As when a lady, turning in the dance,\n Doth foot it featly, and advances scarce\n One step before the other to the ground;\n Over the yellow and vermilion flowers,\n Thus turn'd she at my suit, most maiden - like\n Valing her sober eyes; and came so near,\n That I distinctly caught the dulcet sound.\n Arriving where the limpid waters now\n Laved the greensward, her eyes she deign'd to raise,\n That shot such splendour on me, as I ween\n Ne'er glanced from Cytherea's, when her son\n Had sped his keenest weapon to her heart.\n Upon the opposite bank she stood and smiled;\n As through her graceful fingers shifted still\n \n \n The intermingling dyes, which without seed\n That lofty land unbosoms. By the stream\n Three paces only were we sunder'd: yet,\n The Hellespont, where Xerxes pass'd it o'er,\n (A curb for ever to the pride of man,[3])\n Was by Leander not more hateful held\n For floating, with inhospitable wave,\n 'Twixt Sestos and Abydos, than by me\n That flood, because it gave no passage thence.\n \n \n [3: Because Xerxes had been so humbled, when he was compelled to\n repass the Hellespont in one small bark, after having a little before crossed\n with a prodigious army, in the hopes of subduing Greece.]\n \n \n \"Strangers ye come; and haply in this place,\n That cradled human nature in its birth,\n Wondering, ye not without suspicion view\n My smiles: but that sweet strain of psalmody,\n 'Thou, Lord! hast made me glad,'[4] will give ye light,\n Which may uncloud your minds. And thou, who stand'st\n The foremost, and didst make thy suit to me,\n Say if aught else thou wish to hear: for I\n Came prompt to answer every doubt of thine.\"\n \n \n [4: \"Thou, Lord! hast made me glad.\" - Psalm xcii. 4.]\n \n \n She spake; and I replied: \"I know not how\n To reconcile this wave, and rustling sound\n Of forest leaves, with what I late have heard\n Of opposite report.\" She answering thus:\n \"I will unfold the cause, whence that proceeds,\n Which makes thee wonder; and so purge the cloud\n That hath enwrapt thee. The First Good, whose joy\n Is only in Himself, created man,\n For happiness; and gave this goodly place,\n His pledge and earnest of eternal peace.\n Favour'd thus highly, through his own defect\n He fell; and here made short sojourn; he fell,\n And, for the bitterness of sorrow, changed\n Laughter unblamed and ever - new delight.\n That vapours none, exhaled from earth beneath,\n Or from the waters, (which, wherever heat\n Attracts them, follow), might ascend thus far\n To vex man's peaceful state, this mountain rose\n So high toward the Heaven, nor fears the rage\n \n \n Of elements contending; from that part\n Exempted, where the gate his limit bars.\n Because the circumambient air, throughout,\n With its first impulse circles still, unless\n Aught interpose to check or thwart its course;\n Upon the summit, which on every side\n To visitation of the impassive air\n Is open, doth that motion strike, and makes\n Beneath its sway the umbrageous wood resound:\n And in the shaken plant such power resides,\n That it impregnates with its efficacy\n The voyaging breeze, upon whose subtle plume\n That, wafted, flies abroad; and the other land,[5]\n Receiving, (as 'tis worthy in itself,\n Or in the clime, that warms it,) doth conceive;\n And from its womb produces many a tree\n Of various virtue. This when thou hast heard,\n The marvel ceases, if in yonder earth\n Some plant, without apparent seed, be found\n To fix its fibrous stem. And further learn,\n That with prolific foison of all seeds\n This holy plain is fill'd, and in itself\n Bears fruit that ne'er was pluck'd on other soil.\n \n \n [5: The continent, inhabited by the living, and separated from\n Purgatory by the ocean, is affected (and that diversely, according to the\n nature of the soil, or the climate) by a virtue, conveyed to it by the winds\n from plants growing in the terrestrial Paradise, which is situated on the\n summit of Purgatory; and this is the cause why some plants are found on earth\n without any apparent seed to produce them.]\n \n \n \"The water, thou behold'st, springs not from vein,\n Restored by vapour, that the cold converts;\n As stream that intermittently repairs\n And spends his pulse of life; but issues forth\n From fountain, solid, undecaying, sure:\n And, by the Will Omnific, full supply\n Feeds whatsoe'er on either side it pours;\n On this, devolved with power to take away\n Remembrance of offence; on that, to bring\n Remembrance back of every good deed done.\n From whence its name of Lethe on this part;\n On the other, Eunoe: both of which must first\n \n \n Be tasted, ere it work; the last exceeding\n All flavours else. Albeit thy thirst may now\n Be well contented, if I here break off,\n No more revealing; yet a corollary\n I freely give beside: nor deem my words\n Less grateful to thee, if they somewhat pass\n The stretch of promise. They, whose verse of yore\n The golden age recorded and its bliss,\n On the Parnassian mountain, of this place\n Perhaps had dream'd. Here was man guiltless; here\n Perpetual spring, and every fruit; and this\n The far - famed nectar.\" Turning to the bards,\n When she had ceased, I noted in their looks\n A smile at her conclusion; then my face\n Again directed to the lovely dame.","title":"Pu28","type":"page"}