Vita Nuova (XXII) ~ Dante Alighieri

Dante and the dishevelled ladies

Evelyn Paul

Vita nuova (XXII, 1-17)

(1) Not many days after this, according to the will of the Lord of Glory (who Himself accepted death), he who had been the father of such a miraculous being as this most gracious Beatrice clearly was, departed from this life, passing most certainly into eternal glory.

(2) 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.

(3) 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."

(4) 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.

(5) 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?"

(6) 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."

(7) 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.

(8) 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.

(9) O you who bear a look of resignation, moving with eyes downcast to show your grief, where are you coming from? Your coloring appears to be the hue of grief itself. Is it our gracious lady you have seen bathing with tears Love's image in her face? O ladies, tell me what my heart tells me: I see her grace in every step you take.

(10) And if you come from so profound a grief, may it please you to stay with me awhile and tell me truly, what you know of her. I see your eyes, I see how they have wept, and how you come retreating all undone; my heart is touched and shaken at the sight.

(11) This sonnet divides into two parts. In the first I address these ladies and ask them if they come from my lady, telling them that I believe they do, since they come back as if made more gracious; in the second I ask them to talk to me about her. The second part begins: And if you come.

(12) Here follows the other sonnet, composed in the way explained previously:

(13) Are you the one that often spoke to us about our lady, and to us alone? Your tone of voice, indeed, resembles his, but in your face we find another look.

(14) Why do you weep so bitterly? Pity would melt the heart of anyone who sees you. Have you seen her weep, too, and now cannot conceal from us the sorrow in your heart?

(15) Leave grief to us; the path of tears is ours (to try to comfort us would be a sin), we are the ones who heard her sobbing words.

(16) Her face proclaims the agony she feels; if anyone had dared look into her eyes, he would have died, drowned in his tears of grief.

(17) This sonnet has four parts according to the four responses of the ladies for whom I speak, and since they are made evident enough in the sonnet, I do not bother to explain the meaning of the parts: I merely indicate where they occur. The second begins: Why do you weep, the third: Leave grief to us, the fourth: Her face proclaims.