The Earthly Paradise. — Return of the Triumphal procession. — The Chariot bound to the Mystic Tree. — Sleep of Dante. — His waking to find the Triumph departed. — Transformation of the Chariot. — The Harlot and the Giant.
So fixed and intent were mine eyes to relieve their ten years’ thirst, that my other senses were all extinct: and they themselves, on one side and the other, had a wall of disregard, so did the holy smile draw them to itself with the old net; when perforce my sight was turned toward my left by those goddesses,1 because I heard from them a “Too fixedly.”2 And the condition which exists for seeing in eyes but just now smitten by the sun caused me to be some time without sight. But when the sight reshaped itself to the little (I say to the little, in respect to the great object of the sense wherefrom by force I had removed myself), I saw that the glorious army had wheeled upon its right flank, and was returning with the sun and with the seven flames in its face.
1 The three heavenly Virtues.
2 “Thou lookest too fixedly; thou hast yet other duties than contemplation.”
As under its shields to save itself a troop turns and wheels with its banner, before it all can change about, that soldiery of the celestial realm which was in advance had wholly gone past us before its front beam1 had bent the chariot round. Then to the wheels the ladies returned, and the griffon moved his blessed burden, in such wise however that no feather of him shook. The beautiful lady who had drawn me at the ford, and Statius and I were following the wheel which made its orbit with the smaller arc. So walking through the lofty wood, empty through fault of her who trusted to the serpent, an angelic song set the time to our steps. Perhaps an arrow loosed from the bow had in three flights reached such a distance as we had advanced, when Beatrice descended. I heard “Adam!” murmured by all:2 then they circled a plant despoiled of flowers and of other leafage on every bough.3 Its branches, which so much the wider spread the higher up they are,4 would be wondered at for height by the Indians in their woods.
1 Its pole.
2 In reproach of him who had in disobedience tasted of the fruit of this tree.
3 After the sin of Adam the plant was despoiled of virtue till the coming of Christ.
4 The branches of the tree of knowledge spread widest as they are nearest to the Divine Source of truth.
“Blessed art thou, Griffon, that thou dost not break off with thy beak of this wood sweet to the taste, since the belly is ill racked thereby.”1 Thus around the sturdy tree the others cried; and the animal of two natures: “So is preserved the seed of all righteousness.”2 And turning to the pole that he had drawn, he dragged it to the foot of the widowed trunk, and that which was of it3 he left bound to it.
1 “For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.” — Romans, v. 19.
2 “That as sin had reigned unto deaths, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ, our Lord.” — Id., v. 21.
3 This pole, the mystic type of the cross of Christ, supposed to have been made of the wood of this tree.
As our plants, when the great light falls downward mingled with that which shines behind the celestial Carp,1 become swollen, and then renew themselves, each in its own color, ere the sun yoke his coursers under another star, so disclosing a color less than of roses and more than of violets, the plant renewed itself, which first had its boughs so bare.2 I did not understand the hymn, and it is not sung here,3 which that folk then sang, nor did I hear the melody to the end.
1 In this spring, when the Sun is in Aries, the sign which follows that of the Pisces here termed the Carp.
2 This tree, after the death of Christ, still remains this symbol of the knowledge of good and of evil, as well as this sign of obedience to the Divine Will. Its renewal with flowers and foliage seems to he the image at once of the revelation of Divine truth through Christ, and of his obedience unto death.
3 On earth.
If I could portray how the pitiless eyes1 sank to slumber, while hearing of Syrinx, the eyes to which too much watching cost so dear, hike a painter who paints from a model I would depict how I fell asleep; but whoso would, let him be one who can picture slumber well.2 Therefore I pass on to when I awoke, and say that a splendor rent for me the veil of sleep, and a call, “Arise, what doest thou?”
1 The hundred eyes of Argus, who, when watching Io, fell asleep while listening to the tale of the loves of Pan and Syrinx, and was then slain by Mercury.
2 The sleep of Dante may signify the impotency of human reason to explain the mysteries of redemption.
As, to see some of the flowerets of the apple-tree1 which makes the Angels greedy of its fruit,2 and makes perpetual bridal feasts in Heaven,3 Peter and John and James were led,4 and being overcome, came to themselves at the word by which greater slumbers5 were broken, and saw their band diminished alike by Moses and Elias, and the raiment of their Master changed, so I came to myself, and saw that compassionate one standing above me, who first had been conductress of my steps along the stream; and all in doubt I said, “Where is Beatrice?” And she, “Behold her under the new leafage sitting upon its root. Behold the company that surrounds her; the rest are going on high behind the griffon, with sweeter song and more profound.”6 And if her speech was more diffuse I know not, because already in my eyes was she who from attending to aught else had closed me in. Alone she was sitting upon the bare ground, like a guard left there of the chariot which I had seen bound by the biform animal. In a circle the seven Nymphs were making of themselves an enclosure for her, with those lights in their hands that are secure from Aquilo and from Auster.7
1 “As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the suns.” — The Song of Solomon, ii. 3.
2 The full glory of Christ in Heaven.
3 The marriage supper of the Lamb — Revelation, xix. 9.
4 The transfiguration — Matthew, xvii. 1-8.
5 Those of the dead called back to life by Jesus.
6 Christ having ascended, Beatrice, this type of Theology, is left by the chariot, the type of the Church on earth.
7 From the north wind or the south; that is, from any earthly blast.
“Here shalt thou be short time a forester; and thou shalt be with me without end a citizen of that Rome whereof Christ is a Roman. Therefore for profit of the world that lives ill, keep now thine eyes upon the chariot; amid what thou seest, having returned to earth, mind that thou write.” Thus Beatrice; and I, who at the feet of her commands was all devout, gave my mind and my eyes where she willed.
Never with so swift a motion did fire descend from a dense cloud, when it is raining from that region which stretches most remote, as I saw the bird of Jove stoop downward through the tree, breaking the bark, as well as the flowers and new leaves; and he struck the chariot with all his force, whereat it reeled, like a ship in a tempest beaten by the waves now to starboard, now to larboard.1 Then I saw leap into the body of the triumphal vehicle a she fox,2 which seemed fasting from all good food; but rebuking her for her foul sins my Lady turned her to such flight as her fleshless bones allowed. Then, from there whence he had first come, I saw the eagle descend down into the ark of the chariot and leave it feathered from himself.3 And a voice such as issues from a heart that is afflicted issued from Heaven, and thus spake, “O little bark of mine, how ill art thou laden!” Then it seemed to me that the earth opened between the two wheels, and I saw a dragon issue from it, which through the chariot upward fixed his tail: and, like a wasp that retracts its sting, drawing to himself his malign tail, drew out part of the bottom, and went wandering away.4 That which remained covered itself again, as lively soil with grass, with the plumage, offered perhaps with sane and benign intention; and both one and the other wheel and the pole were again covered with it in such time that a sigh holds the mouth open longer.5 Thus transformed, the holy structure put forth heads upon its parts, three upon the pole, and one on each corner. The first were horned like oxen, but the four had a single horn upon the forehead.6 A like prodigy was never seen before. Secure, as fortress on a high mountain, there appeared to me a loose harlot sitting upon it, with eyes roving around. And, as if in order that she should not be taken from him, I saw standing at her side a giant, and some while they kissed each other. But because she turned her lustful and wandering eye on me that fierce paramour scourged her from head to foot. Then full of jealousy, and cruel with anger, he loosed the monster, and drew it through the wood so far that only of that he made a shield from me for the harlot and for the strange beast.7
1 The descent and the attack of the eagle symbolize the rejection of Christianity and the persecution of the Church by the emperors.
2 The fox denotes the early heresies.
3 The feathering of the car is the type of the donation of Constantine, — the temporal endowment of the Church.
4 The dragging off by the dragon of a part of the car probably figures the schism of the Greek Church in the 9th century.
5 This new feathering signifies the fresh and growing endowments of the Church.
6 The seven heads have been interpreted as the seven mortal sins, which grew up in the transformed church, the result of its wealth and temporal power.
7 The harlot and the giant stand respectively for the Pope (both Boniface VIII. and him successor Clement V.) and the kings of France, especially Philip the Fair. The turning of the eyes of the harlot upon Dante seems to signify the dealings of Boniface with the Italians, which awakened the jealousy of Philip; and the dragging of the car, transformed into a monster, through the wood, so far as to hide it from the poet, may be taken as typifying the removal of the seat of the Papacy from Rome to Avignon, in 1305.