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Paradise

Part of The Divine Comedy

Author Dante
Illustrated by Gustave Dore
Translated by Anthony Esolen
Look inside
Paperback
$18.00 US
Random House Group | Modern Library
On sale Feb 13, 2007 | 544 Pages | 978-0-8129-7726-4
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  • English > Comparative Literature: European > Italian
  • English > Comparative Literature: World
  • About
  • Excerpt
  • Author
“If there is any justice in the world of books, [Esolen’s] will be the standard Dante . . . for some time to come.”–Robert Royal, Crisis

In this, the concluding volume of The Divine Comedy, Dante ascends from the devastation of the Inferno and the trials of Purgatory. Led by his beloved Beatrice, he enters Paradise, to profess his faith, hope, and love before the Heavenly court. Completed shortly before his death, Paradise is the volume that perhaps best expresses Dante’s spiritual philosophy about resurrection, redemption, and the nature of divinity. It also affords modern-day readers a clear window into late medieval perceptions about faith. A bilingual text, classic illustrations by Gustave Doré, an appendix that reproduces Dante’s key sources, and other features make this the definitive edition of Dante’s ultimate masterwork.
Canto One

Dante and Beatrice are at the threshold of Heaven. She explains to him
that it is the nature of the human soul to rise.

The glory of the One who moves all things

penetrates the universe with light,

more radiant in one part and elsewhere less:

I have been in that heaven He makes most bright,4

and seen things neither mind can hold nor tongue

utter, when one descends from such great height,

For as we near the One for whom we long,7

our intellects so plunge into the deep,

memory cannot follow where we go.

Nevertheless what small part I can keep10

of that holy kingdom treasured in my heart

will now become the matter of my song.

O good Apollo, for this last work of art,13

make me as fit a vessel of your power

as you demand when you bestow the crown

Of the beloved laurel. Till this hour16

one peak of twin Parnassus has sufficed,

but if I am to enter the lists now

I shall need both. Then surge into my breast19

and breathe your song, as when you drew the vain

Marsyas from the sheath of his own limbs.

Father, virtue divine, should you but deign22

that I make manifest a shadow of

the blessed kingdom sealed upon my brain,

At the foot of that tree whose wood you love25

you’ll see me stand and crown my brows with green,

made worthy by the subject, and by you.

Poets and Caesars now so rarely glean28

those leaves to celebrate a victory

(man’s fault and shame, for our desires are mean),

the Peneian branches must give birth to joy31

when any man should thirst for their high fame,

in the glad heart of the Delphic deity.

A little spark gives birth to a great flame.34

Better voices perhaps will follow mine,

praying to hear what Cyrrha shall proclaim!

By various spills of light the sun will shine37

dawning upon the world of men that die,

but at the three-cross intersection of

Four rings it rises in the company40

of a more favorable time of year,

happier stars, to stamp this worldly clay

With its most perfect seal. One hemisphere43

lay brightening in that stream and one grew dim,

as it made morning there and evening here,

When I saw Beatrice turn upon her left46

and look to Heaven to gaze into the sun:

no eagle ever held a gaze so firm.

As a reflecting ray will follow upon49

the first and in a glance, an instant, rise

just like a pilgrim longing to turn home,

So she instilled her gazing–through my eyes–52

into my powers of fancy, and I too

stared at the sun more than our sight can bear.

With our weak powers on earth one may not do55

what there one may–thanks to the special place

created as the proper home for man.

Not long could I sustain the brilliant rays58

before they seemed to flash like sparks that play

round steel still white-hot from the forge’s blaze,

And suddenly it seemed that day and day61

were fused, as if the One who wields the might

adorned the heavens with a second sun.

Into the everlasting wheels of light64

Beatrice gazed with silent constancy;

on her I gazed, far from that central sight.

Her countenance had the same effect in me67

as did the plant that Glaucus tasted when

it made him share the godhood of the sea.

To signify man’s soaring beyond man70

words will not do: let my comparison

suffice for them for whom the grace of God

Reserves the experience. If I bore alone73

that part of me which you created last,

O Love that steers the heavens, you surely know,

For your light lifted me. And when the vast76

wheel you have made eternal by desire

held me intent to hear the harmony

You tune in all its parts, the sunlight-fire79

lit so much of the sky, no flooding stream

or rain could ever fill so broad a lake.

The newness of the sound, the swelling gleam82

lighted desire in me to learn their cause–

keener than any appetite I’d known.

And she, who saw within me what I was,85

to still the troubled waters of my soul,

opened her lips before I could inquire,

And thus began: “You’re making your mind dull88

with false imagining–you don’t perceive

what you would see, if you could shake it off.

You are not on the earth, as you believe.91

Lightning that flees its proper realm is not

so swift as your returning to your own.”

I admit I was shorn of my first doubt94

by the brief words she flashed me with a smile,

but in another net my feet were caught:

“My first amazement is at peace–but still97

I am amazed that I should rise so high,

beyond the lightness of the air and fire.”

She turned her eyes to me then with a sigh100

of pity, as a mother in distress

whose child is ill and talks deliriously,

So she made matters plain: “All things possess103

order amongst themselves: this order is

the form that makes the world resemble God.

Thence the high beings read the signs, the trace106

of that eternal Power who is the end

for which the form is set in time and place.

All natures in this order lean and tend109

each in distinctive manner to its Source,

some to approach more near and others less–

Whence from their various ports all creatures move112

on the great sea of being, with each one

ferried by instinct given from above.

This is what makes the fire rise toward the moon;115

this, the prime mover of the mortal heart;

this makes the heavy earth condense in one;

Nor does this bow with target-cleaving art118

strike only things that lack intelligence,

but beings made with intellect and love.

The glorious world-ordaining providence121

forever stills the highest heaven with light,

beyond the spinning of the swiftest sphere,

And to that place as to our destined site124

we’re speeded by the power of that cord

shooting each arrow in its happy flight.

Often it’s true a form may not accord127

with the intent of him who works the art

because the matter’s deaf and won’t respond:

So, from this course, a creature may depart130

if it should have the power, despite the push,

to swerve away and veer off from its start,

And as you’ll see a fall of lightning flash133

from the high clouds, so cheating pleasures skew

that first urge, and they plunge it to the earth.

No more amazement should it bring to you136

that you ascend, than if a mountain stream

should tumble rushing to the plains below.

But it would be a cause of just surprise139

if, free of every bar, you should remain

like a still flame on earth, and not arise.”

Then to the heavens she turned her gaze again.142
Copyright © 2004 by Dante. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Dante Alighieri was born in Florence, Italy in 1265. His early poetry falls into the tradition of love poetry that passed from the Provencal to such Italian poets as Guido Cavalcanti, Dante's friend and mentor. Dante's first major work is the Vita Nuova, 1293-1294. This sequence of lyrics, sonnets, and prose narrative describes his love, first earthly, then spiritual, for Beatrice, whom he had first seen as a child of nine, and who had died when Dante was 25. Dante married about 1285, served Florence in battle, and rose to a position of leadership in the bitter factional politics of the city-state. As one of the city's magistrates, he found it necessary to banish leaders of the so-called "Black" faction, and his friend Cavalcanti, who like Dante was a prominent "White." But after the Blacks seized control of Florence in 1301, Dante himself was tried in absentia and was banished from the city on pain of death. He never returned to Florence. We know little about Dante's life in exile. Legend has it that he studied at Paris, but if so, he returned to Italy, for his last years were spent in Verona and Ravenna. In exile he wrote his Convivio, kind of poetic compendium of medieval philosophy, as well as a political treatise, Monarchia. He began his Comedy (later to be called the Divine Comedy) around 1307-1308. On a diplomatic mission to Venice in 1321, Dante fell ill, and returned to Ravenna, where he died. View titles by Dante
Gustave Dore View titles by Gustave Dore

About

“If there is any justice in the world of books, [Esolen’s] will be the standard Dante . . . for some time to come.”–Robert Royal, Crisis

In this, the concluding volume of The Divine Comedy, Dante ascends from the devastation of the Inferno and the trials of Purgatory. Led by his beloved Beatrice, he enters Paradise, to profess his faith, hope, and love before the Heavenly court. Completed shortly before his death, Paradise is the volume that perhaps best expresses Dante’s spiritual philosophy about resurrection, redemption, and the nature of divinity. It also affords modern-day readers a clear window into late medieval perceptions about faith. A bilingual text, classic illustrations by Gustave Doré, an appendix that reproduces Dante’s key sources, and other features make this the definitive edition of Dante’s ultimate masterwork.

Excerpt

Canto One

Dante and Beatrice are at the threshold of Heaven. She explains to him
that it is the nature of the human soul to rise.

The glory of the One who moves all things

penetrates the universe with light,

more radiant in one part and elsewhere less:

I have been in that heaven He makes most bright,4

and seen things neither mind can hold nor tongue

utter, when one descends from such great height,

For as we near the One for whom we long,7

our intellects so plunge into the deep,

memory cannot follow where we go.

Nevertheless what small part I can keep10

of that holy kingdom treasured in my heart

will now become the matter of my song.

O good Apollo, for this last work of art,13

make me as fit a vessel of your power

as you demand when you bestow the crown

Of the beloved laurel. Till this hour16

one peak of twin Parnassus has sufficed,

but if I am to enter the lists now

I shall need both. Then surge into my breast19

and breathe your song, as when you drew the vain

Marsyas from the sheath of his own limbs.

Father, virtue divine, should you but deign22

that I make manifest a shadow of

the blessed kingdom sealed upon my brain,

At the foot of that tree whose wood you love25

you’ll see me stand and crown my brows with green,

made worthy by the subject, and by you.

Poets and Caesars now so rarely glean28

those leaves to celebrate a victory

(man’s fault and shame, for our desires are mean),

the Peneian branches must give birth to joy31

when any man should thirst for their high fame,

in the glad heart of the Delphic deity.

A little spark gives birth to a great flame.34

Better voices perhaps will follow mine,

praying to hear what Cyrrha shall proclaim!

By various spills of light the sun will shine37

dawning upon the world of men that die,

but at the three-cross intersection of

Four rings it rises in the company40

of a more favorable time of year,

happier stars, to stamp this worldly clay

With its most perfect seal. One hemisphere43

lay brightening in that stream and one grew dim,

as it made morning there and evening here,

When I saw Beatrice turn upon her left46

and look to Heaven to gaze into the sun:

no eagle ever held a gaze so firm.

As a reflecting ray will follow upon49

the first and in a glance, an instant, rise

just like a pilgrim longing to turn home,

So she instilled her gazing–through my eyes–52

into my powers of fancy, and I too

stared at the sun more than our sight can bear.

With our weak powers on earth one may not do55

what there one may–thanks to the special place

created as the proper home for man.

Not long could I sustain the brilliant rays58

before they seemed to flash like sparks that play

round steel still white-hot from the forge’s blaze,

And suddenly it seemed that day and day61

were fused, as if the One who wields the might

adorned the heavens with a second sun.

Into the everlasting wheels of light64

Beatrice gazed with silent constancy;

on her I gazed, far from that central sight.

Her countenance had the same effect in me67

as did the plant that Glaucus tasted when

it made him share the godhood of the sea.

To signify man’s soaring beyond man70

words will not do: let my comparison

suffice for them for whom the grace of God

Reserves the experience. If I bore alone73

that part of me which you created last,

O Love that steers the heavens, you surely know,

For your light lifted me. And when the vast76

wheel you have made eternal by desire

held me intent to hear the harmony

You tune in all its parts, the sunlight-fire79

lit so much of the sky, no flooding stream

or rain could ever fill so broad a lake.

The newness of the sound, the swelling gleam82

lighted desire in me to learn their cause–

keener than any appetite I’d known.

And she, who saw within me what I was,85

to still the troubled waters of my soul,

opened her lips before I could inquire,

And thus began: “You’re making your mind dull88

with false imagining–you don’t perceive

what you would see, if you could shake it off.

You are not on the earth, as you believe.91

Lightning that flees its proper realm is not

so swift as your returning to your own.”

I admit I was shorn of my first doubt94

by the brief words she flashed me with a smile,

but in another net my feet were caught:

“My first amazement is at peace–but still97

I am amazed that I should rise so high,

beyond the lightness of the air and fire.”

She turned her eyes to me then with a sigh100

of pity, as a mother in distress

whose child is ill and talks deliriously,

So she made matters plain: “All things possess103

order amongst themselves: this order is

the form that makes the world resemble God.

Thence the high beings read the signs, the trace106

of that eternal Power who is the end

for which the form is set in time and place.

All natures in this order lean and tend109

each in distinctive manner to its Source,

some to approach more near and others less–

Whence from their various ports all creatures move112

on the great sea of being, with each one

ferried by instinct given from above.

This is what makes the fire rise toward the moon;115

this, the prime mover of the mortal heart;

this makes the heavy earth condense in one;

Nor does this bow with target-cleaving art118

strike only things that lack intelligence,

but beings made with intellect and love.

The glorious world-ordaining providence121

forever stills the highest heaven with light,

beyond the spinning of the swiftest sphere,

And to that place as to our destined site124

we’re speeded by the power of that cord

shooting each arrow in its happy flight.

Often it’s true a form may not accord127

with the intent of him who works the art

because the matter’s deaf and won’t respond:

So, from this course, a creature may depart130

if it should have the power, despite the push,

to swerve away and veer off from its start,

And as you’ll see a fall of lightning flash133

from the high clouds, so cheating pleasures skew

that first urge, and they plunge it to the earth.

No more amazement should it bring to you136

that you ascend, than if a mountain stream

should tumble rushing to the plains below.

But it would be a cause of just surprise139

if, free of every bar, you should remain

like a still flame on earth, and not arise.”

Then to the heavens she turned her gaze again.142
Copyright © 2004 by Dante. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

Author

Dante Alighieri was born in Florence, Italy in 1265. His early poetry falls into the tradition of love poetry that passed from the Provencal to such Italian poets as Guido Cavalcanti, Dante's friend and mentor. Dante's first major work is the Vita Nuova, 1293-1294. This sequence of lyrics, sonnets, and prose narrative describes his love, first earthly, then spiritual, for Beatrice, whom he had first seen as a child of nine, and who had died when Dante was 25. Dante married about 1285, served Florence in battle, and rose to a position of leadership in the bitter factional politics of the city-state. As one of the city's magistrates, he found it necessary to banish leaders of the so-called "Black" faction, and his friend Cavalcanti, who like Dante was a prominent "White." But after the Blacks seized control of Florence in 1301, Dante himself was tried in absentia and was banished from the city on pain of death. He never returned to Florence. We know little about Dante's life in exile. Legend has it that he studied at Paris, but if so, he returned to Italy, for his last years were spent in Verona and Ravenna. In exile he wrote his Convivio, kind of poetic compendium of medieval philosophy, as well as a political treatise, Monarchia. He began his Comedy (later to be called the Divine Comedy) around 1307-1308. On a diplomatic mission to Venice in 1321, Dante fell ill, and returned to Ravenna, where he died. View titles by Dante
Gustave Dore View titles by Gustave Dore

Additional formats

  • Paradise
    Paradise
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    Feb 06, 2013
  • Paradise
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    978-0-307-42254-5
    $9.99 US
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    Modern Library
    Feb 06, 2013

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