up; that hampers the will with impotence.[2] One could, indeed,
in it[3] turn downward and walk the hillside wandering around,
while the horizon holds the day shut up." Then my Lord, as if
wondering, said, "Lead us, then, there where thou sayest one may
have delight while waiting."

[1] The virtuous Heathen did not possess the so-called
theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity; but they
practiced the four cardinal virtues of Prudence, Temperance,
Fortitude and Justice.

[2] The allegory is plain: the soul can mount the steep of
purification only when illuminated by the Sun of Divine Grace.

[3] In the darkness.


Little way had we gone from that place, when I perceived that the
mountain was hollowed out in like fashion as the valleys hollow
them here on earth. "Yonder," said that shade, "will we go, where
the hillside makes a lap of itself, and there will we await the
new day." Between steep and level was a winding path that led us
into a side of the dale, where more than by half the edge dies
away. Gold and fine silver, and scarlet and white, Indian wood
lucid and clear,[1] fresh emerald at the instant it is split,
would each be vanquished in color by the herbage and by the
flowers set within that valley, as by its greater the less is
vanquished. Nature had not only painted there, but with sweetness
of a thousand odors she made there one unknown and blended.

[1] The blue of indigo.


Upon the green and upon the flowers I saw souls who, because of
the valley, were not visible from without, seated here singing
"Salve regina." [1] "Before the lessening sun sinks to his nest,"
began the Mantuan who had turned us thither, "desire not that
among these I guide you. From this bank ye will better become
acquainted with the acts and countenances of all of them, than
received among them on the level below. He who sits highest and
has the semblance of having neglected what he should have done,
and who moves not his mouth to the others' songs, was Rudolph the
Emperor, who might have healed the wounds that have slain Italy,
so that slowly by another she is revived.[2] The next, who in
appearance comforts him, ruled the land where the water rises
that Moldau bears to Elbe, and Elbe to the sea. Ottocar was his
name,[3] and in his swaddling clothes he was better far than
bearded Wenceslaus, his son, whom luxury and idleness feed.[4]
And that small-nosed one, who seems close in counsel with him who
has so benign an aspect, died in flight and disflowering the
lily;[5] look there how he beats his breast. See the next who,
sighing, has made a bed for his cheek with his hand.[6] Father
and father-in-law are they of the harm of France; they know his
vicious and foul life, and thence comes the grief that so pierces
them. He who looks so large-limbed,[7] and who accords in singing
with him of the masculine nose,[8] wore girt the cord of every
worth, and if the youth that is sitting behind him had followed
him as king, truly had worth gone from vase to vase, which cannot
be said of the other heirs: James and Frederick hold the realms;
[9] the better heritage no one possesses. Rarely doth human
goodness rise through the branches, and this He wills who gives
it, in order that it may be asked from Him. To the large-nosed
one also my words apply not less than to the other, Peter, who is
singing with him; wherefore Apulia and Provence are grieving
now.[10] The plant is as inferior to its seed, as, more than
Beatrice and Margaret, Constance still boasts of her husband.[11]
See the King of the simple life sitting there alone, Henry of
England; he in his branches hath a better issue.[12] That one who
lowest among them sits on the ground, looking upward, is William
the marquis,[13] for whom Alessandria and her war make Montferrat
and the Canavese mourn."

[1] The beginning of a Church hymn to the Virgin, sung after
vespers, of which the first verses are:--
Salve, Regina, mater misericordiae!
Vita, dulcedo et spes nostra, salve!
Ad te clamamus exsules filii Hevae;
Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes
In hac lacrymarum valle.

[2] The neglect of Italy by the Emperor Rudolph (see the
preceding Canto) was not to be repaired by the vain efforts of
Henry VII.

[3] Ottocar, King of Bohemia and Duke of Austria, had been slain
in battle against Rudolph, on the Marchfeld by the Donau, in
1278; "whereby Austria fell to Rudolph." See Carlyle's Frederick
the Great, book ii. ch. 7.

[4] Dante repeats his harsh judgment of Wenceslaus in the
nineteenth Canto of Paradise. His first wife was the daughter of
Rudolph of Hapsburg. He died in 1305.

[5] This is Philip the Bold of France, 1270-1285. Having invaded
Catalonia, in a war with Peter the Third of Aragon, he was driven
back, and died on the retreat at Perpignan.

[6] Henry of Navarre, the brother of Thibault, the poet-king
(Hell, Canto XXII.). His daughter Joan married Philip the Fair,
"the harm of France," the son of Philip the Bold.


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