Canto 28

Fain now to search within and round about the divine forest dense and living, which tempered the new day to my eyes, without longer waiting I left the bank, taking the level ground very slowly, over the soil that everywhere breathes fragrance. A sweet breeze that had no variation in itself struck me on the brow, not with heavier blow than a soft wind; at which the branches, readily trembling, all of them were bending to the quarter where the holy mountain casts its first shadow; yet not so far parted from their straightness, that the little birds among the tops would leave the practice of their every art; but with full joy singing they received the early breezes among the leaves, which kept a burden to their rhymes, such as gathers from bough to bough through the pine forest upon the shore of Chiassi, when Aeolus lets forth Sirocco.⁴¹⁸

I was eager to explore the dense, living, divine forest, which softened the new daylight for my eyes. Without waiting any longer, I left the bank and walked very slowly across the level ground. The soil breathed fragrance everywhere. A sweet, steady breeze brushed my forehead as gently as a soft wind. The branches trembled readily and all bent toward the place where the holy mountain casts its first shadow. Yet they did not bend so far that the little birds in the treetops stopped practicing their many arts. Instead, the birds joyfully welcomed the early breezes with song. The leaves accompanied their songs with a sound like the rustling that passes from branch to branch through the pine forest on the shore of Chiassi, when Aeolus releases Sirocco.⁴¹⁸

Now had my show steps carried me within the ancient wood so far that I could not see back to where I had entered it: and lo, a stream took from me further progress, which toward the left with its little waves was bending the grass that sprang upon its bank. All the waters, that are purest on the earth, would seem to have some mixture in them, compared with that which hides nothing, although it moves along dusky under the perpetual shadow, which never lets the sun or moon shine there.

By now, my slow steps had carried me so far into the ancient wood that I could no longer see where I had entered. Then a stream blocked my way. Its little waves bent the grass on its left bank. All the purest waters on earth would seem impure compared with this stream, whose water hid nothing. Yet it flowed in dim light beneath an endless shadow that never let the sun or moon shine there.

With feet I stayed, and with my eyes I passed to the other side of the streamlet, to gaze at the great variety of the fresh may; and there appeared to me, even as a thing appears suddenly which turns aside through wonder every other thought, a solitary lady, who was going along, singing, and culling flower from flower, wherewith all her path was painted. “Ah, fair Lady,⁴¹⁹ who warmest thyself in the rays of love, if I may trust to looks which are wont to be witnesses of the heart, may the will come to thee,” said I to her, “to draw forward toward this stream, so far that I can understand what thou art singing. Thou makest me remember where and what was Proserpine, at the time when her mother lost her, and she the spring.”

I stood still and looked across the little stream, gazing at the great variety of fresh spring flowers. There I saw a lady alone. She appeared suddenly, like something so wondrous that it drives every other thought from the mind. She walked along, singing and picking flowers from among those that colored her whole path. “Ah, fair Lady,⁴¹⁹ you who warm yourself in the rays of love, if I can trust your looks, which often reveal the heart, please come closer to this stream,” I said to her, “so that I can understand what you are singing. You remind me of where Proserpine was and what she was doing when her mother lost her and she lost the spring.”

As a lady who is dancing turns with feet close to the ground and to each other, and hardly sets foot before foot, she turned herself on the red and on the yellow flowerets toward me, not otherwise than a virgin who lowers her modest eyes, and made my prayers content, approaching so that the sweet sound came to me with its meaning. Soon as she was there where the grasses are now bathed by the waves of the fair stream, she bestowed on me the gift of lifting her eyes. I do not believe that so great a light shone beneath the lids of Venus, transfixed by her son, beyond all his custom. She was smiling upon the opposite right bank, gathering with her hands more colors which that high land brings forth without seed. The stream made us three paces apart; but the Hellespont where Xerxes passed it—a curb still on all human pride—endured not more hatred from Leander for swelling between Sestos and Abydos, than that from me because it opened not then. “Ye are new come,” she began, “and, perchance, why I smile mu this place chosen for human nature as its nest, some doubt holds you marvelling; but the psalm ‘Delectasti’⁴²⁰ affords light which may uncloud your understanding.And thou who art in front, and didst pray to me, say, if else thou wouldst hear, for I came ready for every question of thine, so far as may suffice.” “The water,” said I, “and the sound of the forest, impugn within me recent faith in something that I heard contrary to this.” Whereon she, “I will tell, how from its own cause proceeds that which makes thee wonder; and I will clear away the mist which strikes thee.

Like a dancing lady, she turned toward me over the little red and yellow flowers. Her feet stayed close to the ground and close together, and she hardly placed one foot ahead of the other. She lowered her eyes modestly, like a virgin. She satisfied my request by coming close enough for me to hear the meaning of her sweet song. When she reached the place where the waters of the beautiful stream bathed the grass, she gave me the gift of lifting her eyes. I do not believe such a great light ever shone beneath the lids of Venus, even when her son pierced her, going beyond his usual practice. She stood smiling on the other bank to my right. With her hands, she gathered more of the colorful flowers that grow without seed in that high land. The stream kept us three paces apart. Xerxes crossed the Hellespont, which remains a check on all human pride. Leander hated it for rising between Sestos and Abydos, but not more than I hated the stream for not parting then. “You have just arrived,” she began. “Perhaps you wonder why I smile in this place, chosen as a nest for human nature, and some doubt puzzles you. But the psalm ‘Delectasti’⁴²⁰ sheds light that may clear your understanding. And you in front, who spoke to me, say whether you wish to hear more. I came prepared to answer every question of yours, as far as needed.” “The water and the sound of the forest,” I said, “make me doubt something I recently believed after hearing the opposite.” Then she said, “I will tell you how the thing that amazes you arises from its own cause. And I will clear away the mist that clouds your understanding.”

“The supreme Good, which itself alone is pleasing to itself, made man good, and for good, and gave this place for earnest to him of eternal peace. Through his own default he dwelt here little while; through his own default to tears and to toil he changed honest laughter and sweet play. In order that the disturbance, which the exhalations of the water and of the earth (which follow so far as they can the heat) produce below, might not make any war on man, this mountain rose so high toward heaven, and is free from them from the point where it is locked in.⁴²¹ Now because the whole air revolves in circuit with the primal revolution,⁴²² if its circle be not broken by some projection, upon this height, which is wholly disengaged in the living air, this motion strikes, and makes the wood, since it is dense, resound; and the plant being struck hath such power that with its virtue it impregnates the breeze, and this then in its whirling scatters it around: and the rest of the earth, according as it is fit in itself, or through its sky, conceives and brings forth divers trees of divers virtues. It should not seem a marvel then on earth, this being heard, when some plant, without manifest seed, there takes hold. And thou must know that the holy plain where thou art is full of every seed, and has fruit in it which yonder is not gathered. The water which thou seest rises not from a vein restored by vapor which the frost condenses, like a stream that gains and loses breath, but it issues from a fountain constant and sure, which by the will of God regains as much as, open on two sides, it pours forth. On this side it descends with virtue that takes from one the memory of sin; on the other it restores that of every good deed. Here Lethe, so on the other side Eunoe it is called; and it works not if first it be not tasted on this side and on that. To all other savors this is superior.

“The supreme Good, which alone is pleasing to itself, made man good and made him for good. It gave him this place as a promise of eternal peace. Through his own fault, he lived here only a short time. Through his own fault, he exchanged innocent laughter and sweet play for tears and toil. “Vapors rise from water and earth, following the heat as far as they can. They cause disturbances below. So that these disturbances would not trouble man, this mountain rose high toward heaven. It is free from them above the point where it is enclosed.⁴²¹ “Now all the air circles with the primal revolution,⁴²² unless something projecting into its path breaks its course. This height stands entirely free in the living air. The moving air strikes it and makes the dense forest resound. When the plants are struck, they have the power to fill the breeze with their life-giving force. The breeze then scatters it as it circles. The rest of the earth receives this force and brings forth different trees with different powers. It does so according to the nature of the ground or the climate. “So, having heard this, you should not wonder when a plant takes root on earth without any visible seed. You must know that the holy plain where you stand is full of every seed. It bears fruit that is not gathered on earth. “The water you see does not rise from a spring replenished by vapor that the cold condenses. Such a stream grows and dwindles. This water flows instead from a constant and unfailing fountain. By God’s will, the fountain receives as much as it pours out through its two open sides. On this side, the water has the power to erase the memory of sin. On the other, it restores the memory of every good deed. Here it is called Lethe, and on the other side, Eunoe. Its power works only when the water has been tasted first on this side and then on the other. Its taste surpasses all others.

“And, though thy thirst may be fully sated even if I disclose no more to thee, I will yet give thee a corollary for grace; nor do I think my speech may be less dear to thee, if beyond promise it enlarge itself with thee. Those who in ancient time told in poesy of the Age of Gold, and of its happy state, perchance upon Parnassus dreamed of this place: here was the root of mankind innocent; here is always spring, and every fruit; this is the nectar of which each tells.”

“Though your thirst may be fully satisfied even if I tell you no more, I will give you an extra insight as a gift. And I do not think my words will be any less welcome if I tell you more than I promised. Those who wrote poems in ancient times about the Age of Gold and its happiness may have dreamed of this place on Parnassus. Here, the roots of humanity were innocent. Here, it is always spring, and every fruit is found. This is the nectar each of them tells of.”

I turned me back then wholly to my Poets, and saw that with a smile they had heard the last sentence; then to the beautiful Lady I turned my face.

Then I turned all the way back to my poets and saw them smile as they heard the last sentence. Then I turned to the beautiful Lady.