The Portable Dante (85 page)
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Authors: Dante Alighieri
After I had written these three sonnets addressed to this lady, in which little concerning my condition was left unsaid, believing I should be silent and say no more about this even at the cost of never again writing to her, since it seemed to me that I had talked about myself enough, I felt forced to find a new theme, one nobler than the last. Because I think the occasion for my new theme is a story pleasant to hear, I shall tell it, and as briefly as possible.
Because of my appearance many people had learned the secret of my heart, and certain ladies who had seen me swoon at one time or another, and who knew my heart very well, happened to be gathered together one day, enjoying each other’s company, when I, as if guided by fortune, passed near them and heard one of these gentlewomen call to me. The lady who addressed me had a very lively way of speaking, and so, when I had come up to them and saw that my most gracious lady was not with them, gaining confidence, I greeted them and asked what I could do to please them. There were many ladies present: several were laughing together; others were looking at me as if waiting for me to say something; there were others talking among themselves—one of whom, turning her eyes toward me and calling me by name, said: “Why do you love this lady of yours, if you are unable to endure the sight of her? Tell us, for surely the goal of such a love must be strange indeed. ” After
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.
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,
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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:
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’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,
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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,
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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 handmaiden
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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 understand
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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.
After this
canzone
had become rather well known, one of my friends who had heard it was moved to ask me
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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:
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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;
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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.
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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.
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.
Not many days after this, according to the will of the Lord of Glory (who Himself accepted death), he who had been the father
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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.
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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.