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<mikel@calera.com> Mike Lynch
Memorial Edition
The Complete Works of
James Whitcomb Riley
IN TEN VOLUMES
Including Poems and Prose Sketches, many
of which have not heretofore been
published; an authentic Biography, an
elaborate Index and numerous
Illustrations in color from Paintings
by Howard Chandler Christy
and Ethyl Franklin Betts
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
1883, 1885, 1887, 1888, 1890, 1891, 189, 1893, 1894,
1896, 1897, 1898, 1899, 1900, 1901, 190, 1903, 1904,
1905, 1906, 1907, 1908, 1909, 1910, 1911, 191, 1913,
BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
COPYRIGHT 1916
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
THE MEMORY OF
James Whitcomb Riley
IN PLEASANT RECOLLECTION OF MORE THAN THIRTY-FIVE YEARS
OF BUSINESS AND PERSONAL ASSOCIATION
THESE FINAL VOLUMES
ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
BORN:                       DIED:
October 7, 1849,            July 22, 1916
Greenfield, Ind.            Indianapolis, Ind.
                                                   
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY--A SKETCH
A BACKWARD LOOK
PHILIPER FLASH 
THE SAME OLD STORY 
TO A BOY WHISTLING 
AN OLD FRIEND
WHAT SMITH KNEW ABOUT FARMING
A POET'S WOOING
MAN'S DEVOTION 
THE OLD TIMES WERE THE BEST
A SUMMER AFTERNOON 
FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR 
MY JOLLY FRIEND'S SECRET 
THE SPEEDING OF THE KING'S SPITE 
PRIVATE THEATRICAL
PLAIN SERMONS
"TRADIN' JOE"
DOT LEEDLE BOY 
I SMOKE MY PIPE
RED RIDING HOOD
IF I KNEW WHAT POETS KNOW
AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE
SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY 
A COUNTRY PATHWAY
THE OLD GUITAR 
"FRIDAY AFTERNOON" 
"JOHNSON'S BOY"
HER BEAUTIFUL HANDS
NATURAL PERVERSITIES 
THE SILENT VICTORS 
DEAD IN SIGHT OF FAME
THE IRON HORSE 
OVER THE EYES OF GLADNESS
ONLY A DREAM 
OUR LlTTLE GIRL
THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW
SONG OF THE NEW YEAR 
A LETTER TO A FRIEND 
LINES FOR AN ALBUM 
AN EMPTY NEST
MY FATHER'S HALLS
THE HARP OF THE MINSTREL 
HONEY DRIPPING FROM THE COMB 
THAT OTHER MAUDE MULLER
A MAN OF MANY PARTS
A DREAM OF LONG AGO
WASH LOWRY'S REMINISCENCE
THE ANCIENT PRINTERMAN 
PRIOR TO MISS BELLE'S APPEARANCE 
WHEN MOTHER COMBED MY HAIR
A WRANGDILLION 
GEORGE MULLEN'S CONFESSION
SAY SOMETHING TO ME
A TEST OF LOVE 
FATHER WILLIAM
WHAT THE WIND SAID 
AN AUTUMNAL EXTRAVAGANZA 
THE RAINY MORNING
WE ARE NOT ALWAYS GLAD WHEN WE SMILE 
A SUMMER SUNRISE 
DAS KRIST KINDEL 
AN OLD YEAR'S ADDRESS
A NEW YEAR S PLAINT
LUTHER BENSON
WHEN EVENING SHADOWS FALL
DREAMER, SAY
TOM VAN ARDEN
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY--A SKETCH
On Sunday morning, October seventh, 1849, Reuben A. Riley and his
wife, Elizabeth Marine Riley, rejoiced over the birth of their
second son.  They called him James Whitcomb.  This was in a shady
little street in the shady little town of Greenfield, which is in
the county of Hancock and the state of Indiana.  The young James
found a brother and a sister waiting to greet him--John Andrew
and Martha Celestia, and afterward came Elva May--Mrs. Henry
Eitel-- Alexander Humbolt and Mary Elizabeth, who, of all, alone
lives to see this collection of her brother's poems.
James Whitcomb was a slender lad, with corn-silk hair and wide
blue eyes.  He was shy and timid, not strong physically, dreading
the cold of winter, and avoiding the rougher sports of his
playmates.  And yet he was full of the spirit of youth, a spirit
that manifested itself in the performance of many ingenious
pranks.  His every-day life was that of the average boy in the
average country town of that day, but his home influences were
exceptional.  His father, who became a captain of cavalry in the
Civil War, was a lawyer of ability and an orator of more than
local distinction.  His mother was a woman of rare strength of
character combined with deep sympathy and a clear understanding. 
Together, they made home a place to remember with thankful heart.
When James was twenty years old, the death of his mother made a
profound impression on him, an impression that has influenced
much of his verse and has remained with him always.
At an early age he was sent to school and, "then sent back
again," to use his own words.  He was restive under what he
called the "iron discipline."  A number of years ago, he spoke
of these early educational beginnings in phrases so picturesque
and so characteristic that they are quoted in full:
"My first teacher was a little old woman, rosy and roly-poly, who
looked as though she might have just come tumbling out of a fairy
story, so lovable was she and so jolly and so amiable.  She kept
school in her little Dame-Trot kind of dwelling of three rooms,
with a porch in the rear, like a bracket on the wall, which was
part of the play-ground of her 'scholars,'--for in those days
pupils were called 'scholars' by their affectionate teachers. 
Among the twelve or fifteen boys and girls who were there I
remember particularly a little lame boy, who always got the first
ride in the locust-tree swing during recess.
"This first teacher of mine was a mother to all her 'scholars,'
and in every way looked after their comfort, especially when
certain little ones grew drowsy.  I was often, with others,
carried to the sitting-room and left to slumber on a small made-
down pallet on the floor.  She would sometimes take three or four
of us together; and I recall how a playmate and I, having been
admonished into silence, grew deeply interested in watching a
spare old man who sat at a window with its shade drawn down. 
After a while we became accustomed to this odd sight and would
laugh, and talk in whispers and give imitations, as we sat in a
low sewing-chair, of the little old pendulating blind man at the
window.  Well, the old man was the gentle teacher's charge, and
for this reason, possibly, her life had become an heroic one,
caring for her helpless husband who, quietly content, waited
always at the window for his sight to come back to him.  And
doubtless it is to-day, as he sits at another casement and sees
not only his earthly friends, but all the friends of the Eternal
Home, with the smiling, loyal, loving little woman forever at his
"She was the kindliest of souls even when constrained to punish
us.  After a whipping she invariably took me into the little
kitchen and gave me two great white slabs of bread cemented
together with layers of butter and jam.  As she always whipped me
with the same slender switch she used for a pointer, and cried
over every lick, you will have an idea how much punishment I
could stand.  When I was old enough to be lifted by the ears out
of my seat that office was performed by a pedagogue whom I
promised to 'whip sure, if he'd just wait till I got big enough.'
He is still waiting!
"There was but one book at school in which I found the slightest
interest:  McGuffey's old leather-bound Sixth Reader.  It was the
tallest book known, and to the boys of my size it was a matter of
eternal wonder how I could belong to 'the big class in that
reader.'  When we were to read the death of 'Little Nell,' I
would run away, for I knew it would make me cry, that the other
boys would laugh at me, and the whole thing would become
ridiculous.  I couldn't bear that.  A later teacher, Captain Lee
O. Harris, came to understand me with thorough sympathy, took
compassion on my weaknesses and encouraged me to read the best
literature.  He understood that he couldn't get numbers into my
head.  You couldn't tamp them in!  History I also disliked as a
dry thing without juice, and dates melted out of my memory as
speedily as tin-foil on a red-hot stove.  But I always was ready
to declaim and took natively to anything dramatic or theatrical. 
Captain Harris encouraged me in recitation and reading and had
ever the sweet spirit of a companion rather than the manner of an
instructor."
But if there was "only one book at school in which he found the
slightest interest," he had before that time displayed an
affection for a book--simply as such and not for any printed word
it might contain.  And this, after all, is the true book-lover's
love.  Speaking of this incident--and he liked to refer to it
as his "first literary recollection," he said:  "Long
before I was old enough to read I remember buying a book at an
old auctioneer's shop in Greenfield.  I can not imagine what
prophetic impulse took possession of me and made me forego the
ginger cakes and the candy that usually took every cent of my
youthful income.  The slender little volume must have cost all of
twenty-five cents!  It was Francis Quarles' Divine Emblems,--a
neat little affair about the size of a pocket Testament.  I
carried it around with me all day long, delighted with the very
" 'What have you got there, Bub?' some one would ask.  'A book,'
I would reply.  'What kind of a book?'  'Poetry-book.'  'Poetry!'
would be the amused exclamation.  'Can you read poetry?' and,
embarrassed, I'd shake my head and make my escape, but I held on
to the beloved little volume."
Every boy has an early determination--a first one--to follow some
ennobling profession, once he has come to man's estate, such as
being a policeman, or a performer on the high trapeze.  The poet
would not have been the "Peoples' Laureate," had his fairy god-
mother granted his boy-wish, but the Greenfield baker.  For to
his childish mind it "seemed the acme of delight," using again
his own happy expression, "to manufacture those snowy loaves of
bread, those delicious tarts, those toothsome bon-bons.  And then
to own them all, to keep them in store, to watch over and
guardedly exhibit.  The thought of getting money for them was
to me a sacrilege.  Sell them?  No indeed.  Eat 'em--eat 'em, by
tray loads and dray loads!  It was a great wonder to me why the
pale-faced baker in our town did not eat all his good things. 
This I determined to do when I became owner of such a grand
establishment.  Yes, sir.  I would have a glorious feast.  Maybe
I'd have Tom and Harry and perhaps little Kate and Florry in to
help us once in a while.  The thought of these play-mates as
'grown-up folks' didn't appeal to me.  I was but a child, with
wide-open eyes, a healthy appetite and a wondering mind.  That
was all.  But I have the same sweet tooth to-day, and every time
I pass a confectioner's shop, I think of the big baker of our
town, and Tom and Harry and the youngsters all."
As a child, he often went with his father to the court-house
where the lawyers and clerks playfully called him "judge Wick." 
Here as a privileged character he met and mingled with the
country folk who came to sue and be sued, and thus early the
dialect, the native speech, the quaint expressions of his "own
people" were made familiar to him, and took firm root in the
fresh soil of his young memory.  At about this time, he made his
first poetic attempt in a valentine which he gave to his mother. 
Not only did he write the verse, but he drew a sketch to
accompany it, greatly to his mother's delight, who, according to
the best authority, gave the young poet "three big cookies and
didn't spank me for two weeks.  This was my earliest literary
encouragement."
Shortly after his sixteenth birthday, young Riley turned his back
on the little schoolhouse and for a time wandered through the
different fields of art, indulging a slender talent for painting
until he thought he was destined for the brush and palette, and
then making merry with various musical instruments, the banjo,
the guitar, the violin, until finally he appeared as bass drummer
in a brass band.  "In a few weeks," he said, "I had beat myself
into the more enviable position of snare drummer.  Then I wanted
to travel with a circus, and dangle my legs before admiring
thousands over the back seat of a Golden Chariot.  In a dearth of
comic songs for the banjo and guitar, I had written two or three
myself, and the idea took possession of me that I might be a
clown, introduced as a character-song-man and the composer of my
own ballads.
"My father was thinking of something else, however, and one day I
found myself with a 'five-ought' paint brush under the eaves of
an old frame house that drank paint by the bucketful, learning to
be a painter.  Finally, I graduated as a house, sign and
ornamental painter, and for two summers traveled about with a
small company of young fellows calling ourselves 'The Graphics,'
who covered all the barns and fences in the state with
advertisements."
At another time his, young man's fancy saw attractive
possibilities in the village print-shop, and later his
ambition was diverted to acting, encouraged by the good times he
had in the theatricals of the Adelphian Society of Greenfield. 
"In my dreamy way," he afterward said, "I did a little of a
number of things fairly well--sang, played the guitar and violin,
acted, painted signs and wrote poetry.  My father did not
encourage my verse-making for he thought it too visionary, and
being a visionary himself, he believed he understood the dangers
of following the promptings of the poetic temperament.  I doubted
if anything would come of the verse-writing myself.  At this time
it is easy to picture my father, a lawyer of ability, regarding
me, nonplused, as the worst case he had ever had.  He wanted me
to do something practical, besides being ambitious for me to
follow in his footsteps, and at last persuaded me to settle down
and read law in his office.  This I really tried to do
conscientiously, but finding that political economy and
Blackstone did not rhyme and that the study of law was
unbearable, I slipped out of the office one summer afternoon,
when all out-doors called imperiously, shook the last dusty
premise from my head and was away.
"The immediate instigator of my flight was a traveling medicine
man who appealed to me for this reason:  My health was bad, very
bad,--as bad as I was.  Our doctor had advised me to travel, but
how could I travel without money?  The medicine man needed an
assistant and I plucked up courage to ask if I could join the
party and paint advertisements for him.
"I rode out of town with that glittering cavalcade without saying
good-by to any one, and though my patron was not a diplomaed
doctor, as I found out, he was a man of excellent habits, and the
whole company was made up of good straight boys, jolly chirping
vagabonds like myself.  It was delightful to bowl over the
country in that way.  I laughed all the time.  Miles and miles of
somber landscape were made bright with merry song, and when the
sun shone and all the golden summer lay spread out before us, it
was glorious just to drift on through it like a wisp, of
thistle-down, careless of how, or when, or where the wind should
anchor us. 'There's a tang of gipsy blood in my veins that pants
for the sun and the air.'
"My duty proper was the manipulation of two blackboards, swung at
the sides of the wagon during our street lecture and concert. 
These boards were alternately embellished with colored drawings
illustrative of the manifold virtues of the nostrum vended. 
Sometimes I assisted the musical olio with dialect recitations
and character sketches from the back step of the wagon.  These
selections in the main originated from incidents and experiences
along the route, and were composed on dull Sundays in lonesome
little towns where even the church bells seemed to bark at us."
On his return to Greenfield after this delightful but profitless
tour he became the local editor of his home paper and in a few
months "strangled the little thing into a change of ownership." 
The new proprietor transferred him to the literary department and
the latter, not knowing what else to put in the space allotted
him, filled it with verse.  But there was not room in his
department for all he produced, so he began, timidly, to offer
his poetic wares in foreign markets.  The editor of The
Indianapolis Mirror accepted two or three shorter verses but in
doing so suggested that in the future he try prose.  Being but an
humble beginner, Riley harkened to the advice, whereupon the
editor made a further suggestion; this time that he try poetry
again.  The Danbury (Connecticut) News, then at the height of its
humorous reputation, accepted a contribution shortly after The
Mirror episode and Mr. McGeechy, its managing editor, wrote the
young poet a graceful note of congratulation.  Commenting on
these parlous times, Riley afterward wrote, "It is strange how
little a thing sometimes makes or unmakes a fellow.  In these
dark days I should have been content with the twinkle of the
tiniest star, but even this light was withheld from me.  Just
then came the letter from McGeechy; and about the same time,
arrived my first check, a payment from Hearth and Home for a
contribution called A Destiny (now A Dreamer in A Child World). 
The letter was signed, 'Editor' and unless sent by an assistant
it must have come from Ik Marvel himself, God bless him!  I
thought my fortune made.  Almost immediately I sent off another
contribution, whereupon to my dismay came this reply:  'The
management has decided to discontinue the publication and hopes
that you will find a market for your worthy work elsewhere.' 
Then followed dark days indeed, until finally, inspired by my old
teacher and comrade, Captain Lee O. Harris, I sent some of my
poems to Longfellow, who replied in his kind and gentle manner
with the substantial encouragement for which I had long
In the year following, Riley formed a connection with The
Anderson (Indiana) Democrat and contributed verse and locals in
more than generous quantities.  He was happy in this work and had
begun to feel that at last he was making progress when evil
fortune knocked at his door and, conspiring with circumstances
and a friend or two, induced the young poet to devise what
afterward seemed to him the gravest of mistakes,--the Poe-poem
hoax.  He was then writing for an audience of county papers and
never dreamed that this whimsical bit of fooling would be carried
beyond such boundaries.  It was suggested by these circumstances.
He was inwardly distressed by the belief that his failure to get
the magazines to accept his verse was due to his obscurity, while
outwardly he was harassed to desperation by the junior editor of
the rival paper who jeered daily at his poetical pretensions. 
So, to prove that editors would praise from a known source what
they did not hesitate to condemn from one unknown, and to silence
his nagging contemporary, he wrote Leonainie in the style of
Poe, concocting a story, to accompany the poem, setting forth how
Poe came to write it and how all these years it had been lost to
view.  In a few words Mr. Riley related the incident and then
dismissed it.  "I studied Poe's methods.  He seemed to have a
theory, rather misty to be sure, about the use of 'm's' and 'n's'
and mellifluous vowels and sonorous words.  I remember that I was
a long time in evolving the name Leonainie, but at length the
verses were finished and ready for trial.
"A friend, the editor of The Kokomo Dispatch, undertook the
launching of the hoax in his paper; he did this with great
editorial gusto while, at the same time, I attacked the
authenticity of the poem in The Democrat.  That diverted all
possible suspicion from me.  The hoax succeeded far too well, for
what had started as a boyish prank became a literary discussion
nation-wide, and the necessary expose had to be made.  I was
appalled at the result.  The press assailed me furiously, and
even my own paper dismissed me because I had given the
'discovery' to a rival."
Two dreary and disheartening years followed this tragic event,
years in which the young poet found no present help, nor future
hope.  But over in Indianapolis, twenty miles away, happier
circumstances were shaping themselves.  Judge E. B. Martindale,
editor and proprietor of The Indianapolis Journal, had been
attracted by certain poems in various papers over the state and
at the very time that the poet was ready to confess himself
beaten, the judge wrote:  "Come over to Indianapolis and we'll
give you, a place on The Journal."  Mr. Riley went.  That was the
turning point, and though the skies were not always clear, nor
the way easy, still from that time it was ever an ascending
journey.  As soon as he was comfortably settled in his new
position, the first of the Benj. F. Johnson poems made its
appearance.  These dialect verses were introduced with editorial
comment as coming from an old Boone county farmer, and their
reception was so cordial, so enthusiastic, indeed, that the
business manager of The Journal, Mr. George C. Hitt, privately
published them in pamphlet form and sold the first edition of one
thousand copies in local bookstores and over The Journal office
counter.  This marked an epoch in the young poet's progress and
was the beginning of a friendship between him and Mr. Hitt that
has never known interruption.  This first edition of The Old
Swimmin' Hole and 'Leven More Poems has since become extremely
rare and now commands a high premium.  A second edition was
promptly issued by a local book dealer, whose successors, The
Bowen-Merrill Company--now The Bobbs-Merrill Company--have
continued, practically without interruption, to publish Riley's
The call to read from the public platform had by this time become
so insistent that Riley could no longer resist it, although
modesty and shyness fought the battle for privacy.  He told
briefly and in his own inimitable fashion of these trying
experiences.  "In boyhood I had been vividly impressed with
Dickens' success in reading from his own works and dreamed that
some day I might follow his example.  At first I read at Sunday-
school entertainments and later, on special occasions such as
Memorial Days and Fourth of Julys.  At last I mustered up
sufficient courage to read in a city theater, where, despite the
conspiracy of a rainy night and a circus, I got encouragement
enough to lead me to extend my efforts.  And so, my native state
and then the country at large were called upon to bear with me
and I think I visited every sequestered spot north or south
particularly distinguished for poor railroad connections.  At
different times, I shared the program with Mark Twain, Robert J.
Burdette and George Cable, and for a while my gentlest and
cheeriest of friends, Bill Nye, joined with me and made the dusty
detested travel almost a delight.  We were constantly playing
practical jokes on each other or indulging in some mischievous
banter before the audience.  On one occasion, Mr. Nye, coming
before the foot-lights for a word of general introduction, said,
'Ladies and gentlemen, the entertainment to-night is of a dual
nature.  Mr. Riley and I will speak alternately.  First I come
out and talk until I get tired, then Mr. Riley comes out and
talks until YOU get tired!'  And thus the trips went merrily
enough at times and besides I learned to know in Bill Nye a man
blessed with as noble and heroic a heart as ever beat.  But the
making of trains, which were all in conspiracy to outwit me,
schedule or no schedule, and the rush and tyrannical pressure of
inviolable engagements, some hundred to a season and from Boston
to San Francisco, were a distress to my soul.  I am glad that's
over with.  Imagine yourself on a crowded day-long excursion;
imagine that you had to ride all the way on the platform of the
car; then imagine that you had to ride all the way back on the
same platform; and lastly, try to imagine how you would feel if
you did that every day of your life, and you will then get a
glimmer--a faint glimmer--of how one feels after traveling about
on a reading or lecturing tour.
"All this time I had been writing whenever there was any strength
left in me.  I could not resist the inclination to write.  It was
what I most enjoyed doing.  And so I wrote, laboriously ever,
more often using the rubber end of the pencil than the point.
"In my readings I had an opportunity to study and find out for
myself what the public wants, and afterward I would endeavor to
use the knowledge gained in my writing.  The public desires
nothing but what is absolutely natural, and so perfectly natural
as to be fairly artless.  It can not tolerate affectation, and it
takes little interest in the classical production.  It demands
simple sentiments that come direct from the heart.  While on the
lecture platform I watched the effect that my readings had on the
audience very closely and whenever anybody left the hall I knew
that my recitation was at fault and tried to find out why.  Once
a man and his wife made an exit while I was giving The Happy
Little Cripple--a recitation I had prepared with particular
enthusiasm and satisfaction.  It fulfilled, as few poems do, all
the requirements of length, climax and those many necessary
features for a recitation.  The subject was a theme of real
pathos, beautified by the cheer and optimism of the little
sufferer.  Consequently when this couple left the hall I was very
anxious to know the reason and asked a friend to find out.  He
learned that they had a little hunch-back child of their own. 
After this experience I never used that recitation again.  On the
other hand, it often required a long time for me to realize that
the public would enjoy a poem which, because of some blind
impulse, I thought unsuitable.  Once a man said to me, 'Why don't
you recite When the Frost Is on the Punkin?' The use of it had
never occurred to me for I thought it 'wouldn't go.'  He
persuaded me to try it and it became one of my most favored
recitations.  Thus, I learned to judge and value my verses by
their effect upon the public.  Occasionally, at first, I had
presumed to write 'over the heads' of the audience, consoling
myself for the cool reception by thinking my auditors were not of
sufficient intellectual height to appreciate my efforts.  But
after a time it came home to me that I myself was at fault in
these failures, and then I disliked anything that did not appeal
to the public and learned to discriminate between that which did
not ring true to my hearers and that which won them by virtue of
its truthfulness and was simply heart high."
As a reader of his own poems, as a teller of humorous stories, as
a mimic, indeed as a finished actor, Riley's genius was rare and
beyond question.  In a lecture on the Humorous Story, Mark Twain,
referring to the story of the One Legged Soldier and the
different ways of telling it, once said:
"It takes only a minute and a half to tell it in its comic form;
and it isn't worth telling after all.  Put into the
humorous-story form, it takes ten minutes, and is about the
funniest thing I have ever listened to--as James Whitcomb Riley
"The simplicity and innocence and sincerity and unconsciousness
of Riley's old farmer are perfectly simulated, and the result is
a performance which is thoroughly charming and delicious.  This
is art--and fine and beautiful, and only a master can compass
It was in  that The Old Swimmin' Hole and 'Leven More
Poems first appeared in volume form.  Four years afterward, Riley
made his initial appearance before a New York City audience.  The
entertainment was given in aid of an international copyright law,
and the country's most distinguished men of letters took part in
the program.  It is probably true that no one appearing at that
time was less known to the vast audience in Chickering Hall than
James Whitcomb Riley, but so great and so spontaneous was the
enthusiasm when he left the stage after his contribution to the
first day's program, that the management immediately announced a
place would be made for Mr. Riley on the second and last day's
program.  It was then that James Russell Lowell introduced him in
the following words:
"Ladies and gentlemen:  I have very great pleasure in presenting
to you the next reader of this afternoon, Mr. James Whitcomb
Riley, of Indiana.  I confess, with no little chagrin and sense
of my own loss, that when yesterday afternoon, from this
platform, I presented him to a similar assemblage, I was almost
completely a stranger to his poems.  But since that time I have
been looking into the volumes that have come from his pen, and in
them I have discovered so much of high worth and tender quality
that I deeply regret I had not long before made acquaintance with
his work.  To-day, in presenting Mr. Riley to you, I can say to
you of my own knowledge, that you are to have the pleasure of
listening to the voice of a true poet."
Two years later a selection from his poems was published in
England under the title Old Fashioned Roses and his
international reputation was established.  In his own country the
people had already conferred their highest degrees on him and now
the colleges and universities--seats of conservatism--gave him
scholastic recognition.  Yale made him an Honorary Master of Arts
in 1902; in 1903, Wabash and, a year later, the University of
Pennsylvania conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Letters,
and in 1907 Indiana University gave him his LL. D.  Still more
recently the Academy of Arts and Letters elected him to
membership, and in 1912 awarded him the gold medal for poetry. 
About this time a yet dearer, more touching tribute came to him
from school children.  On October 7, 1911, the schools of Indiana
and New York City celebrated his birthday by special exercises,
and one year later, the school children of practically every
section of the country had programs in his honor.
As these distinguished honors came they found him each time
surprised anew and, though proud that they who dwell in the high
places of learning should come in cap and gown to welcome him,
yet gently and sincerely protesting his own unworthiness.  And as
they found him when they came so they left him.
Mr. Riley made his home in Indianapolis from the time judge
Martindale invited him to join The Journal's forces, and no one
of her citizens was more devoted, nor was any so universally
loved and honored.  Everywhere he went the tribute of quick
recognition and cheery greeting was paid him, and his home was
the shrine of every visiting Hoosier.  High on a sward of velvet
grass stands a dignified middle-aged brick house.  A dwarfed
stone wall, broken by an iron gate, guards the front lawn, while
in the rear an old-fashioned garden revels in hollyhocks and wild
roses.  Here among his books and his souvenirs the poet spent his
happy andncontented days.  To reach this restful spot, the
pilgrim must journey to Lockerbie Street, a miniature
thoroughfare half hidden between two more commanding avenues.  It
is little more than a lane, shaded, unpaved and from end to end
no longer than a five minutes' walk, but its fame is for all
 "Such a dear little street it is, nestled away
 From the noise of the city and heat of the day,
 In cool shady coverts of whispering trees,
 With their leaves lifted up to shake hands with the breeze
 Which in all its wide wanderings never may meet
 With a resting-place fairer than Lockerbie Street!"
Riley never married.  He lived with devoted, loyal and
understanding friends, a part of whose life he became many years
ago.  Kindly consideration, gentle affection, peace and order,--
all that go to make home home, were found here blooming with the
hollyhocks and the wild roses.  Every day some visitor knocked
for admittance and was not denied; every day saw the poet calling
for some companionable friend and driving with him through the
city's shaded streets or far out into the country.
And so his life drew on to its last and most beautiful year. 
Since his serious illness in 1910, the public had shown its love
for him more and more frequently.  On the occasion of his 
birthday in 1912, Greenfield had welcomed him home through a host
of children scattering flowers.  Anderson, where he was living
when he first gained public recognition, had a Riley Day in 1913.
The Indiana State University entertained him the same year, as
did also the city of Cincinnati.  In 1915 there was a Riley Day
at Columbus, Indiana, and during all this time each birthday and
Christmas was marked by "poetry-showers," and by thousands of
letters of affectionate congratulation and by many tributes in
the newspapers and magazines.
His last birthday, October 7, 1915, was the most notable of all. 
Honorable Franklin K. Lane, Secretary of the Interior, suggested
to the various school superintendents that one of Riley's poems
be read in each schoolhouse, with the result that Riley
celebrations were general among the children of the entire
country.  In a proclamation by Governor Ralston the State of
Indiana designated the anniversary as Riley Day in honor of its
"most beloved citizen."  Thousands of letters and gifts from the
poet's friends poured in--letters from schools and organizations
and Riley Clubs as well as from individuals--while flowers came
from every section of the country.  Among them all, perhaps the
poet was most pleased with a bunch of violets picked from the
banks of the Brandywine by the children of a Riley school.
It was on this last birthday that an afternoon festival of Riley
poems set to music and danced in pantomime took place at
Indianapolis.  This was followed at night by a dinner in his
honor at which Charles Warren Fairbanks presided, and the
speakers were Governor Ralston, Doctor John Finley, Colonel
George Harvey, Young E. Allison, William Allen White, George Ade,
Ex-Senator Beveridge and Senator Kern.  That night Riley smiled
his most wonderful smile, his dimpled boyish smile, and when he
rose to speak it was with a perceptible quaver in his voice that
he said:  "Everywhere the faces of friends, a beautiful throng of
The winter and spring following, Riley spent quietly at Miami,
Florida, where he had gone the two previous seasons to escape the
cold and the rain.  There was a Riley Day at Miami in February. 
In April, he returned home, feeling at his best, and, as if by
premonition, sought out many of his friends, new and old, and
took them for last rides in his automobile.  A few days before
the end, he visited Greenfield to attend the funeral of a dear
boyhood chum, Almon Keefer, of whom he wrote in A Child-World. 
All Riley's old friends who were still left in Greenfield were
gathered there and to them he spoke words of faith and good
cheer.  Almon Keefer had "just slipped out" quietly and
peacefully, he said, and "it was beautiful."
And as quietly and peacefully his own end came--as he had desired
it, with no dimming of the faculties even to the very close, nor
suffering, nor confronting death.  This was Saturday night, July
22, 1916.  On Monday afternoon and evening his body lay in state
under the dome of Indiana's capitol, while the people filed by,
thousands upon thousands.  Business men were there, and
schoolgirls, matrons carrying market baskets, mothers with little
children, here and there a swarthy foreigner, old folks, too, and
well-dressed youths, here a farmer and his wife, and there a
workman in a blue jumper with his hat in his band, silent,
inarticulate, yet bidding his good-by, too.  On the following
day, with only his nearest and dearest about him, all that was
mortal of the people's poet was quietly and simply laid to rest.
The Complete Works
of James Whitcomb Riley
A BACKWARD LOOK
As I sat smoking, alone, yesterday,
    And lazily leaning back in my chair,
Enjoying myself in a general way--
Allowing my thoughts a holiday
    From weariness, toil and care,--
My fancies--doubtless, for ventilation--
    Left ajar the gates of my mind,--
And Memory, seeing the situation,
    Slipped out in the street of "Auld Lang Syne."--
Wandering ever with tireless feet
    Through scenes of silence, and jubilee
Of long-hushed voices; and faces sweet
Were thronging the shadowy side of the street
    As far as the eye could see;
Dreaming again, in anticipation,
    The same old dreams of our boyhood's days
That never come true, from the vague sensation
    Of walking asleep in the world's strange ways.
Away to the house where I was born!
    And there was the selfsame clock that ticked
From the close of dusk to the burst of morn,
When life-warm hands plucked the golden corn
    And helped when the apples were picked.
And the "chany dog" on the mantel-shelf,
    With the gilded collar and yellow eyes,
Looked just as at first, when I hugged myself
    Sound asleep with the dear surprise.
And down to the swing in the locust-tree,
    Where the grass was worn from the trampled ground,
And where "Eck" Skinner, "Old" Carr, and three
Or four such other boys used to be
    "Doin' sky-scrapers," or "whirlin' round":
And again Bob climbed for the bluebird's nest,
    And again "had shows" in the buggy-shed
Of Guymon's barn, where still, unguessed,
    The old ghosts romp through the best days dead!
And again I gazed from the old schoolroom
    With a wistful look, of a long June day,
When on my cheek was the hectic bloom
Caught of Mischief, as I presume--
    He had such a "partial" way,
It seemed, toward me.--And again I thought
    Of a probable likelihood to be
Kept in after school--for a girl was caught
    Catching a note from me.
And down through the woods to the swimming-hole--
    Where the big, white, hollow old sycamore grows,--
And we never cared when the water was cold,
And always "ducked" the boy that told
    On the fellow that tied the clothes.--
When life went so like a dreamy rhyme,
    That it seems to me now that then
The world was having a jollier time
    Than it ever will have again.
PHILIPER FLASH
Young Philiper Flash was a promising lad,
His intentions were good--but oh, how sad
    For a person to think
    How the veriest pink
And bloom of perfection may turn out bad.
Old Flash himself was a moral man,
And prided himself on a moral plan,
    Of a maxim as old
    As the calf of gold,
Of making that boy do what he was told.
And such a good mother had Philiper Flash;
Her voice was as soft as the creamy plash
    Of the milky wave
    With its musical lave
That gushed through the holes of her patent churn-dash;--
And the excellent woman loved Philiper so,
She could cry sometimes when he stumped his toe,--
    And she stroked his hair
    With such motherly care
When the dear little angel learned to swear.
Old Flash himself would sometimes say
That his wife had "such a ridiculous way,--
    She'd, humor that child
    Till he'd soon be sp'iled,
And then there'd be the devil to pay!"
And the excellent wife, with a martyr's look,
Would tell old Flash himself "he took
    No notice at all
    Of the bright-eyed doll
Unless when he spanked him for getting a fall!"
Young Philiper Flash, as time passed by,
Grew into "a boy with a roguish eye":
    He could smoke a cigar,
    And seemed by far
The most promising youth.--"He's powerful sly,
Old Flash himself once told a friend,
"Every copper he gets he's sure to spend--
    And," said he, "don't you know
    If he keeps on so
What a crop of wild oats the boy will grow!"
But his dear good mother knew Philiper's ways
So--well, she managed the money to raise;
    And old Flash himself
    Was "laid on the shelf,"
(In the manner of speaking we have nowadays).
For "gracious knows, her darling child,
If he went without money he'd soon grow wild."
    So Philiper Flash
    With a regular dash
"Swung on to the reins," and went "slingin' the cash."
As old Flash himself, in his office one day,
Was shaving notes in a barberous way,
    At the hour of four
    Death entered the door
And shaved the note on his life, they say.
And he had for his grave a magnificent tomb,
Though the venturous finger that pointed "Gone Home,"
    Looked white and cold
    From being so bold,
As it feared that a popular lie was told.
Young Philiper Flash was a man of style
When he first began unpacking the pile
    Of the dollars and dimes
    Whose jingling chimes
Had clinked to the tune of his father's smile;
And he strewed his wealth with such lavish hand,
His rakish ways were the talk of the land,
    And gossipers wise
    Sat winking their eyes
(A certain foreboding of fresh surprise).
A "fast young man" was Philiper Flash,
And wore "loud clothes" and a weak mustache,
    And "done the Park,"
    For an "afternoon lark,"
With a very fast horse of "remarkable dash."
And Philiper handled a billiard-cue
About as well as the best he knew,
    And used to say
    "He could make it pay
By playing two or three games a day."
And Philiper Flash was his mother's joy,
He seemed to her the magic alloy
    That made her glad,
    When her heart was sad,
With the thought that "she lived for her darling boy."
His dear good mother wasn't aware
How her darling boy relished a "tare."--
    She said "one night
    He gave her a fright
By coming home late and ACTING tight."
Young Philiper Flash, on a winterish day,
Was published a bankrupt, so they say--
    And as far as I know
    I suppose it was so,
For matters went on in a singular way;
His excellent mother, I think I was told,
Died from exposure and want and cold;
    And Philiper Flash,
    With a horrible slash,
Whacked his jugular open and went to smash.
THE SAME OLD STORY
The same old story told again--
    The maiden droops her head,
The ripening glow of her crimson cheek
    Is answering in her stead.
The pleading tone of a trembling voice
    Is telling her the way
He loved her when his heart was young
    In Youth's sunshiny day:
The trembling tongue, the longing tone,
    Imploringly ask why
They can not be as happy now
    As in the days gone by.
And two more hearts, tumultuous
    With overflowing joy,
Are dancing to the music
    Which that dear, provoking boy
Is twanging on his bowstring,
    As, fluttering his wings,
He sends his love-charged arrows
    While merrily be sings:
"Ho! ho! my dainty maiden,
    It surely can not be
You are thinking you are master
    Of your heart, when it is me."
And another gleaming arrow
    Does the little god's behest,
And the dainty little maiden
    Falls upon her lover's breast.
"The same old story told again,"
    And listened o'er and o'er,
Will still be new, and pleasing, too,
    Till "Time shall be no more."
TO A BOY WHISTLING
The smiling face of a happy boy
    With its enchanted key
    Is now unlocking in memory
My store of heartiest joy.
And my lost life again to-day,
    In pleasant colors all aglow,
    From rainbow tints, to pure white snow,
Is a panorama sliding away.
The whistled air of a simple tune
    Eddies and whirls my thoughts around,
    As fairy balloons of thistle-down
Sail through the air of June.
O happy boy with untaught grace!
    What is there in the world to give
    That can buy one hour of the life you live
Or the trivial cause of your smiling face!
AN OLD FRIEND
Hey, Old Midsummer! are you here again,
    With all your harvest-store of olden joys,--
Vast overhanging meadow-lands of rain,
And drowsy dawns, and noons when golden grain
    Nods in the sun, and lazy truant boys
Drift ever listlessly adown the day,
Too full of joy to rest, and dreams to play.
The same old Summer, with the same old smile
    Beaming upon us in the same old way
We knew in childhood!  Though a weary while
Since that far time, yet memories reconcile
    The heart with odorous breaths of clover hay;
And again I hear the doves, and the sun streams through
The old barn door just as it used to do.
And so it seems like welcoming a friend--
    An old, OLD friend, upon his coming home
From some far country--coming home to spend
Long, loitering days with me:  And I extend
    My hand in rapturous glee:--And so you've come!--
Ho, I'm so glad!  Come in and take a chair:
Well, this is just like OLD times, I declare!
WHAT SMITH KNEW ABOUT FARMING
There wasn't two purtier farms in the state
Than the couple of which I'm about to relate;--
Jinin' each other--belongin' to Brown,
And jest at the edge of a flourishin' town.
Brown was a man, as I understand,
That allus had handled a good 'eal o' land,
And was sharp as a tack in drivin' a trade--
For that's the way most of his money was made.
And all the grounds and the orchards about
His two pet farms was all tricked out
With poppies and posies
And sweet-smellin' rosies;
And hundreds o' kinds
Of all sorts o' vines,
To tickle the most horticultural minds
And little dwarf trees not as thick as your wrist
With ripe apples on 'em as big as your fist:
And peaches,--Siberian crabs and pears,
And quinces--Well! ANY fruit ANY tree bears;
And th purtiest stream--jest a-swimmin' with fish,
And--JEST O'MOST EVERYTHING HEART COULD WISH!
The purtiest orch'rds--I wish you could see
How purty they was, fer I know it 'ud be
A regular treat!--but I'll go ahead with
My story!  A man by the name o' Smith--
(A bad name to rhyme,
But I reckon that I'm
Not goin' back on a Smith! nary time!)
'At hadn't a soul of kin nor kith,
And more money than he knowed what to do with,--
So he comes a-ridin' along one day,
And HE says to Brown, in his offhand way--
Who was trainin' some newfangled vines round a bay-
Winder--"Howdy-do--look-a-here--say:
What'll you take fer this property here?--
I'm talkin' o' leavin' the city this year,
And I want to be
Where the air is free,
And I'll BUY this place, if it ain't too dear!"--
Well--they grumbled and jawed aroun'--
"I don't like to part with the place," says Brown;
"Well," says Smith, a-jerkin' his head,
"That house yonder--bricks painted red--
Jest like this'n--a PURTIER VIEW--
Who is it owns it?"  "That's mine too,"
Says Brown, as he winked at a hole in his shoe,
"But I'll tell you right here jest what I KIN do:--
If you'll pay the figgers I'll sell IT to you.,"
Smith went over and looked at the place--
Badgered with Brown, and argied the case--
Thought that Brown's figgers was rather too tall,
But, findin' that Brown wasn't goin' to fall,
In final agreed,
So they drawed up the deed
Fer the farm and the fixtures--the live stock an' all.
And so Smith moved from the city as soon
As he possibly could--But "the man in the moon"
Knowed more'n Smith o' farmin' pursuits,
And jest to convince you, and have no disputes,
How little he knowed,
I'll tell you his "mode,"
As he called it, o' raisin' "the best that growed,"
In the way o' potatoes--
Cucumbers--tomatoes,
And squashes as lengthy as young alligators.
'Twas allus a curious thing to me
How big a fool a feller kin be
When he gits on a farm after leavin' a town!--
Expectin' to raise himself up to renown,
And reap fer himself agricultural fame,
By growin' of squashes--WITHOUT ANY SHAME--
As useless and long as a technical name.
To make the soil pure,
And certainly sure,
He plastered the ground with patent manure.
He had cultivators, and double-hoss plows,
And patent machines fer milkin' his cows;
And patent hay-forks--patent measures and weights,
And new patent back-action hinges fer gates,
And barn locks and latches, and such little dribs,
And patents to keep the rats out o' the cribs--
Reapers and mowers,
And patent grain sowers;
And drillers
And cucumber hillers,
And horries;--and had patent rollers and scrapers,
And took about ten agricultural papers.
So you can imagine how matters turned out:
But BROWN didn't have not a shadder o' doubt
That Smith didn't know what he was about
When he said that "the OLD way to farm was played out."
But Smith worked ahead,
And when any one said
That the OLD way o' workin' was better instead
O' his "modern idees," he allus turned red,
And wanted to know
What made people so
INFERNALLY anxious to hear theirselves crow?
And guessed that he'd manage to hoe his own row.
Brown he come onc't and leant over the fence,
And told Smith that he couldn't see any sense
In goin' to such a tremendous expense
Fer the sake o' such no-account experiments
"That'll never make corn!
As shore's you're born
It'll come out the leetlest end of the horn!"
Says Brown, as he pulled off a big roastin'-ear
From a stalk of his own
That had tribble outgrown
Smith's poor yaller shoots, and says he, "Looky here!
THIS corn was raised in the old-fashioned way,
And I rather imagine that THIS corn'll pay
Expenses fer RAISIN' it!--What do you say?"
Brown got him then to look over his crop.--
HIS luck that season had been tip-top!
And you may surmise
Smith opened his eyes
And let out a look o' the wildest surprise
When Brown showed him punkins as big as the lies
He was stuffin' him with--about offers he's had
Fer his farm:  "I don't want to sell very bad,"
He says, but says he,
"Mr. Smith, you kin see
Fer yourself how matters is standin' with me,
I UNDERSTAND FARMIN' and I'd better stay,
You know, on my farm;--I'm a-makin' it pay--
I oughtn't to grumble!--I reckon I'll clear
Away over four thousand dollars this year."
And that was the reason, he made it appear,
Why he didn't care about sellin' his farm,
And hinted at his havin' done himself harm
In sellin' the other, and wanted to know
If Smith wouldn't sell back ag'in to him.--So
Smith took the bait, and says he, "Mr. Brown,
I wouldn't SELL out but we might swap aroun'--
How'll you trade your place fer mine?"
(Purty sharp way o' comin' the shine
Over Smith!  Wasn't it?) Well, sir, this Brown
Played out his hand and brought Smithy down--
Traded with him an', workin' it cute,
Raked in two thousand dollars to boot
As slick as a whistle, an' that wasn't all,--
He managed to trade back ag'in the next fall,--
And the next--and the next--as long as Smith stayed
He reaped with his harvests an annual trade.--
Why, I reckon that Brown must 'a' easily made--
On an AVERAGE--nearly two thousand a year--
Together he made over seven thousand--clear.--
Till Mr. Smith found he was losin' his health
In as big a proportion, almost, as his wealth;
So at last he concluded to move back to town,
And sold back his farm to this same Mr. Brown
At very low figgers, by gittin' it down.
Further'n this I have nothin' to say
Than merely advisin' the Smiths fer to stay
In their grocery stores in flourishin' towns
And leave agriculture alone--and the Browns.
 A POET'S WOOING
    I woo'd a woman once,
But she was sharper than an eastern wind.
                        --TENNYSON.
"What may I do to make you glad,
To make you glad and free,
    Till your light smiles glance
    And your bright eyes dance
Like sunbeams on the sea?
    Read some rhyme that is blithe and gay
    Of a bright May morn and a marriage day?"
And she sighed in a listless way she had,--
"Do not read--it will make me sad!"
"What shall I do to make you glad--
To make you glad and gay,
    Till your eyes gleam bright
    As the stars at night
When as light as the light of day
    Sing some song as I twang the strings
    Of my sweet guitar through its wanderings?"
And she sighed in the weary way she had,--
"Do not sing--it will make me sad!"
"What can I do to make you glad--
As glad as glad can be,
    Till your clear eyes seem
    Like the rays that gleam
And glint through a dew-decked tree?--
    Will it please you, dear, that I now begin
    A grand old air on my violin?"
And she spoke again in the following way,--
    "Yes, oh yes, it would please me, sir;
I would be so glad you'd play
    Some grand old march--in character,--
And then as you march away
I will no longer thus be sad,
But oh, so glad--so glad--so glad!"
MAN'S DEVOTION
A lover said, "O Maiden, love me well,
For I must go away:
And should ANOTHER ever come to tell
Of love--What WILL you say?"
And she let fall a royal robe of hair
That folded on his arm
And made a golden pillow for her there;
Her face--as bright a charm
As ever setting held in kingly crown--
Made answer with a look,
And reading it, the lover bended down,
And, trusting, "kissed the book."
He took a fond farewell and went away.
And slow the time went by--
So weary--dreary was it, day by day
To love, and wait, and sigh.
She kissed his pictured face sometimes, and said:
    "O Lips, so cold and dumb,
I would that you would tell me, if not dead,
    Why, why do you not come?"
The picture, smiling, stared her in the face
    Unmoved--e'en with the touch
Of tear-drops--HERS--bejeweling the case--
    'Twas plain--she loved him much.
And, thus she grew to think of him as gay
    And joyous all the while,
And SHE was sorrowing--"Ah, welladay!"
    But pictures ALWAYS smile!
And years--dull years--in dull monotony
    As ever went and came,
Still weaving changes on unceasingly,
    And changing, changed her name.
Was she untrue?--She oftentimes was glad
    And happy as a wife;
But ONE remembrance oftentimes made sad
    Her matrimonial life.--
Though its few years were hardly noted, when
    Again her path was strown
With thorns--the roses swept away again,
    And she again alone!
And then--alas! ah THEN!--her lover came:
    "I come to claim you now--
My Darling, for I know you are the same,
    And I have kept my vow
Through these long, long, long years, and now no more
    Shall we asundered be!"
She staggered back and, sinking to the floor,
    Cried in her agony:
"I have been false!" she moaned, "_I_ am not true--
    I am not worthy now,
Nor ever can I be a wife to YOU--
    For I have broke my vow!"
And as she kneeled there, sobbing at his feet,
    He calmly spoke--no sign
Betrayed his inward agony--"I count you meet
    To be a wife of mine!"
And raised her up forgiven, though untrue;
    As fond he gazed on her,
She sighed,--"SO HAPPY!"  And she never knew
    HE was a WIDOWER.
WITH A SERIOUS CONCLUSION
Crowd about me, little children--
    Come and cluster 'round my knee
While I tell a little story
    That happened once with me.
My father he had gone away
    A-sailing on the foam,
Leaving me--the merest infant--
    And my mother dear at home;
For my father was a sailor,
    And he sailed the ocean o'er
For full five years ere yet again
    He reached his native shore.
And I had grown up rugged
    And healthy day by day,
Though I was but a puny babe
    When father went away.
Poor mother she would kiss me
    And look at me and sigh
So strangely, oft I wondered
    And would ask the reason why.
And she would answer sadly,
    Between her sobs and tears,--
"You look so like your father,
    Far away so many years!"
And then she would caress me
    And brush my hair away,
And tell me not to question,
    But to run about my play.
Thus I went playing thoughtfully--
    For that my mother said,--
"YOU LOOK SO LIKE YOUR FATHER!"
    Kept ringing in my head.
So, ranging once the golden sands
    That looked out on the sea,
I called aloud, "My father dear,
    Come back to ma and me!"
Then I saw a glancing shadow
    On the sand, and heard the shriek
Of a sea-gull flying seaward,
    And I heard a gruff voice speak:--
"Ay, ay, my little shipmate,
    I thought I heard you hail;
Were you trumpeting that sea-gull,
    Or do you see a sail?"
And as rough and gruff a sailor
    As ever sailed the sea
Was standing near grotesquely
    And leering dreadfully.
I replied, though I was frightened,
    "It was my father dear
I was calling for across the sea--
    I think he didn't hear."
And then the sailor leered again
    In such a frightful way,
And made so many faces
    I was little loath to stay:
But he started fiercely toward me--
    Then made a sudden halt
And roared, "_I_ think he heard you!"
    And turned a somersault.
Then a wild fear overcame me,
    And I flew off like the wind,
Shrieking "MOTHER!"--and the sailor
    Just a little way behind!
And then my mother heard me,
    And I saw her shade her eyes,
Looking toward me from the doorway,
    Transfixed with pale surprise
For a moment--then her features
    Glowed with all their wonted charms
As the sailor overtook me,
    And I fainted in her arms.
When I awoke to reason
    I shuddered with affright
Till I felt my mother's presence
    With a thrill of wild delight--
Till, amid a shower of kisses
    Falling glad as summer rain,
A muffled thunder rumbled,--
    "Is he coming 'round again?"
Then I shrieked and clung unto her,
    While her features flushed and burned
As she told me it was father
    From a foreign land returned.
.     .     .     .     .     .     .
I said--when I was calm again,
    And thoughtfully once more
Had dwelt upon my mother's words
    Of just the day before,--
"I DON'T look like my father,
    As you told me yesterday--
I know I don't--or father
    Would have run the other way."
THE OLD TIMES WERE THE BEST
Friends, my heart is half aweary
    Of its happiness to-night:
Though your songs are gay and cheery,
    And your spirits feather-light,
There's a ghostly music haunting
    Still the heart of every guest
And a voiceless chorus chanting
    That the Old Times were the best.
        CHORUS
All about is bright and pleasant
    With the sound of song and jest,
Yet a feeling's ever present
    That the Old Times were the best.
A SUMMER AFTERNOON
A languid atmosphere, a lazy breeze,
    With labored respiration, moves the wheat
From distant reaches, till the golden seas
    Break in crisp whispers at my feet.
My book, neglected of an idle mind,
    Hides for a moment from the eyes of men;
Or lightly opened by a critic wind,
    Affrightedly reviews itself again.
Off through the haze that dances in the shine
    The warm sun showers in the open glade,
The forest lies, a silhouette design
    Dimmed through and through with shade.
A dreamy day; and tranquilly I lie
    At anchor from all storms of mental strain;
With absent vision, gazing at the sky,
    "Like one that hears it rain."
The Katydid, so boisterous last night,
    Clinging, inverted, in uneasy poise,
Beneath a wheat-blade, has forgotten quite
    If "Katy DID or DIDN'T" make a noise.
The twitter, sometimes, of a wayward bird
    That checks the song abruptly at the sound,
And mildly, chiding echoes that have stirred,
    Sink into silence, all the more profound.
And drowsily I hear the plaintive strain
    Of some poor dove . . . Why, I can scarcely keep
My heavy eyelids--there it is again--
    "Coo-coo!"--I mustn't--"Coo-coo!"--fall asleep!
A dark, tempestuous night; the stars shut in
    With shrouds of fog; an inky, jet-black blot
The firmament; and where the moon has been
    An hour agone seems like the darkest spot.
The weird wind--furious at its demon game--
Rattles one's fancy like a window-frame.
A care-worn face peers out into the dark,
    And childish faces--frightened at the gloom--
Grow awed and vacant as they turn to mark
    The father's as he passes through the room:
The gate latch clatters, and wee baby Bess
Whispers, "The doctor's tummin' now, I dess!"
The father turns; a sharp, swift flash of pain
    Flits o'er his face: "Amanda, child! I said
A moment since--I see I must AGAIN--
    Go take your little sisters off to bed!
There, Effie, Rose, and CLARA MUSTN'T CRY!"
"I tan't he'p it--I'm fyaid 'at mama'll die!"
What are his feelings, when this man alone
    Sits in the silence, glaring in the grate
That sobs and sighs on in an undertone
    As stoical--immovable as Fate,
While muffled voices from the sick one's room
Come in like heralds of a dreaded doom?
The door-latch jingles: in the doorway stands
    The doctor, while the draft puffs in a breath--
The dead coals leap to life, and clap their hands,
    The flames flash up.  A face as pale as death
Turns slowly--teeth tight clenched, and with a look
The doctor, through his specs, reads like a book.
"Come, brace up, Major!"--"Let me know the worst!"
    "W'y you're the biggest fool I ever saw--
Here, Major--take a little brandy first--
    There!  She's a BOY--I mean HE is--hurrah!"
"Wake up the other girls--and shout for joy--
Eureka is his name--I've found A BOY!"
FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR
It's a mystery to see me--a man o' fifty-four,
Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more--
A-lookin' glad and smilin'!  And they's none o' you can say
That you can guess the reason why I feel so good to-day!
I must tell you all about it!  But I'll have to deviate
A little in beginnin', so's to set the matter straight
As to how it comes to happen that I never took a wife--
Kindo' "crawfish" from the Present to the Springtime of my life!
I was brought up in the country:  Of a family of five--
Three brothers and a sister--I'm the only one alive,--
Fer they all died little babies; and 'twas one o' Mother's ways,
You know, to want a daughter; so she took a girl to raise.
The sweetest little thing she was, with rosy cheeks, and fat--
We was little chunks o' shavers then about as high as that!
But someway we sort a' SUITED-like! and Mother she'd declare
She never laid her eyes on a more lovin' pair
Than WE was!  So we growed up side by side fer thirteen year',
And every hour of it she growed to me more dear!--
W'y, even Father's dyin', as he did, I do believe
Warn't more affectin' to me than it was to see her grieve!
I was then a lad o' twenty; and I felt a flash o' pride
In thinkin' all depended on ME now to pervide
Fer Mother and fer Mary; and I went about the place
With sleeves rolled up--and workin', with a mighty smilin'
Fer SOMEPIN' ELSE was workin'! but not a word I said 
Of a certain sort o' notion that was runnin' through my head,--
"Some day I'd maybe marry, and a BROTHER'S love was one
Thing--a LOVER'S was another!" was the way the notion run!
I remember onc't in harvest, when the "cradle-in' " was done,
(When the harvest of my summers mounted up to twenty-one),
I was ridin' home with Mary at the closin' o' the day--
A-chawin' straws and thinkin', in a lover's lazy way!
And Mary's cheeks was burnin' like the sunset down the lane:
I noticed she was thinkin', too, and ast her to explain.
Well--when she turned and KISSED ME, WITH HER ARMS AROUND
I'd a bigger load o' Heaven than I had a load o' straw!
I don't p'tend to learnin', but I'll tell you what's a fac',
They's a mighty truthful sayin' somers in a' almanac--
Er SOMERS--'bout "puore happiness"--perhaps some folks'll laugh
At the idy--"only lastin' jest two seconds and a half."--
But it's jest as true as preachin'!--fer that was a SISTER'S
And a sister's lovin' confidence a-tellin' to me this:--
"SHE was happy, BEIN' PROMISED TO THE SON O' FARMER BROWN."--
And my feelin's struck a pardnership with sunset and went down!
I don't know HOW I acted, and I don't know WHAT I said,--
Fer my heart seemed jest a-turnin' to an ice-cold lump o' lead;
And the hosses kind o'glimmered before me in the road,
And the lines fell from my fingers--And that was all I knowed--
Fer--well, I don't know HOW long--They's a dim rememberence
Of a sound o' snortin' horses, and a stake-and-ridered fence
A-whizzin' past, and wheat-sheaves a-dancin' in the air,
And Mary screamin' "Murder!" and a-runnin' up to where
_I_ was layin' by the roadside, and the wagon upside down
A-leanin' on the gate-post, with the wheels a-whirlin' roun'!
And I tried to raise and meet her, but I couldn't, with a vague
Sort o' notion comin' to me that I had a broken leg.
Well, the women nussed me through it; but many a time I'd sigh
As I'd keep a-gittin' better instid o' goin' to die,
And wonder what was left ME worth livin' fer below,
When the girl I loved was married to another, don't you know!
And my thoughts was as rebellious as the folks was good and kind
When Brown and Mary married--Railly must 'a' been my MIND
Was kind o' out o' kilter!--fer I hated Brown, you see,
Worse'n PIZEN--and the feller whittled crutches out fer ME--
And done a thousand little ac's o' kindness and respec'--
And me a-wishin' all the time that I could break his neck!
My relief was like a mourner's when the funeral is done
When they moved to Illinois in the Fall o' Forty-one.
Then I went to work in airnest--I had nothin' much in view
But to drownd out rickollections--and it kep' me busy, too!
But I slowly thrived and prospered, tel Mother used to say
She expected yit to see me a wealthy man some day.
Then I'd think how little MONEY was, compared to happiness--
And who'd be left to use it when I died I couldn't guess!
But I've still kep' speculatin' and a-gainin' year by year,
Tel I'm payin' half the taxes in the county, mighty near!
Well!--A year ago er better, a letter comes to hand
Astin' how I'd like to dicker fer some Illinois land--
"The feller that had owned it," it went ahead to state,
"Had jest deceased, insolvent, leavin' chance to speculate,"--
And then it closed by sayin' that I'd "better come and see."--
I'd never been West, anyhow--a'most too wild fer ME,
I'd allus had a notion; but a lawyer here in town
Said I'd find myself mistakend when I come to look around.
So I bids good-by to Mother, and I jumps aboard the train,
A-thinkin' what I'd bring her when I come back home again--
And ef she'd had an idy what the present was to be,
I think it's more'n likely she'd 'a' went along with me!
Cars is awful tejus ridin', fer all they go so fast!
But finally they called out my stoppin'-place at last:
And that night, at the tavern, I dreamp' I was a train
O' cars, and SKEERED at somepin', runnin' down a country lane!
Well, in the morning airly--after huntin' up the man--
The lawyer who was wantin' to swap the piece o' land--
We started fer the country; and I ast the history
Of the farm--its former owner--and so forth, etcetery!
And--well--it was interESTin'--I su'prised him, I suppose,
By the loud and frequent manner in which I blowed my nose!--
But his su'prise was greater, and it made him wonder more,
When I kissed and hugged the widder when she met us at the
IT WAS MARY: . . . They's a feelin' a-hidin' down in here--
Of course I can't explain it, ner ever make it clear.--
It was with us in that meetin', I don't want you to fergit!
And it makes me kind o'nervous when I think about it yit!
I BOUGHT that farm, and DEEDED it, afore I left the town
With "title clear to mansions in the skies," to Mary Brown!
And fu'thermore, I took her and the CHILDERN--fer you see,
They'd never seed their Grandma--and I fetched 'em home with me.
So NOW you've got an idy why a man o' fifty-four,
Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more
Is a-lookin' glad and smilin'!--And I've jest come into town
To git a pair o' license fer to MARRY Mary Brown.
MY JOLLY FRIEND'S SECRET
Ah, friend of mine, how goes it,
    Since you've taken you a mate?--
Your smile, though, plainly shows it
    Is a very happy state!
Dan Cupid's necromancy!
    You must sit you down and dine,
And lubricate your fancy
    With a glass or two of wine.
And as you have "deserted,"
    As my other chums have done,
While I laugh alone diverted,
    As you drop off one by one--
And I've remained unwedded,
    Till--you see--look here--that I'm,
In a manner, "snatched bald-headed"
    By the sportive hand of Time!
I'm an "old 'un!" yes, but wrinkles
    Are not so plenty, quite,
As to cover up the twinkles
    Of the BOY--ain't I right?
Yet, there are ghosts of kisses
    Under this mustache of mine
My mem'ry only misses
    When I drown 'em out with wine.
From acknowledgment so ample,
    You would hardly take me for
What I am--a perfect sample
    Of a "jolly bachelor";
Not a bachelor has being
    When he laughs at married life
But his heart and soul's agreeing
    That he ought to have a wife!
Ah, ha I old chum, this claret,
    Like Fatima, holds the key
Of the old Blue-Beardish garret
    Of my hidden mystery!
Did you say you'd like to listen?
    Ah, my boy! the "SAD NO MORE!"
And the tear-drops that will glisten--
    TURN THE CATCH UPON THE DOOR,
And sit you down beside me,
    And put yourself at ease--
I'll trouble you to slide me
    That wine decanter, please;
The path is kind o' mazy
    Where my fancies have to go,
And my heart gets sort o' lazy
    On the journey--don't you know?
Let me see--when I was twenty--
    It's a lordly age, my boy,
When a fellow's money's plenty,
    And the leisure to enjoy--
And a girl--with hair as golden
    As--THAT; and lips--well--quite
As red as THIS I'm holdin'
    Between you and the light.
And eyes and a complexion--
    Ah, heavens!--le'-me-see--
Well,--just in this connection,--
    DID YOU LOCK THAT DOOR FOR ME?
Did I start in recitation
    My past life to recall?
Well, THAT'S an indication
    I am purty tight--that's all!
THE SPEEDING OF THE KING'S SPITE
A king--estranged from his loving Queen
    By a foolish royal whim--
Tired and sick of the dull routine
    Of matters surrounding him--
Issued a mandate in this wise.--
    "THE DOWER OF MY DAUGHTER'S HAND
I WILL GIVE TO HIM WHO HOLDS THIS PRIZE,
    THE STRANGEST THING IN THE LAND."
But the King, sad sooth! in this grim decree
    Had a motive low and mean;--
'Twas a royal piece of chicanery
    To harry and spite the Queen;
For King though he was, and beyond compare,
    He had ruled all things save one--
Then blamed the Queen that his only heir
    Was a daughter--not a son.
The girl had grown, in the mother's care,
    Like a bud in the shine and shower
That drinks of the wine of the balmy air
    Till it blooms into matchless flower;
Her waist was the rose's stem that bore
    The flower--and the flower's perfume--
That ripens on till it bulges o'er
    With its wealth of bud and bloom.
And she had a lover--lowly sprung,--
    But a purer, nobler heart
Never spake in a courtlier tongue
    Or wooed with a dearer art:
And the fair pair paled at the King's decree;
    But the smiling Fates contrived
To have them wed, in a secrecy
    That the Queen HERSELF connived--
While the grim King's heralds scoured the land
    And the countries roundabout,
Shouting aloud, at the King's command,
    A challenge to knave or lout,
Prince or peasant,--"The mighty King
    Would have ye understand
That he who shows him the strangest thing
    Shall have his daughter's hand!"
And thousands flocked to the royal throne,
    Bringing a thousand things
Strange and curious;--One, a bone--
    The hinge of a fairy's wings;
And one, the glass of a mermaid queen,
    Gemmed with a diamond dew,
Where, down in its reflex, dimly seen,
    Her face smiled out at you.
One brought a cluster of some strange date,
    With a subtle and searching tang
That seemed, as you tasted, to penetrate
    The heart like a serpent's fang;
And back you fell for a spell entranced,
    As cold as a corpse of stone,
And heard your brains, as they laughed and danced
    And talked in an undertone.
One brought a bird that could whistle a tune
    So piercingly pure and sweet,
That tears would fall from the eyes of the moon
    In dewdrops at its feet;
And the winds would sigh at the sweet refrain,
    Till they swooned in an ecstacy,
To waken again in a hurricane
    Of riot and jubilee.
One brought a lute that was wrought of a shell
    Luminous as the shine
Of a new-born star in a dewy dell,--
    And its strings were strands of wine
That sprayed at the Fancy's touch and fused,
    As your listening spirit leant
Drunken through with the airs that oozed
    From the o'ersweet instrument.
One brought a tablet of ivory
    Whereon no thing was writ,--
But, at night--and the dazzled eyes would see
    Flickering lines o'er it,--
And each, as you read from the magic tome,
    Lightened and died in flame,
And the memory held but a golden poem
    Too beautiful to name.
Till it seemed all marvels that ever were known
    Or dreamed of under the sun
Were brought and displayed at the royal throne,
    And put by, one by one
Till a graybeard monster came to the King--
    Haggard and wrinkled and old--
And spread to his gaze this wondrous thing,--
    A gossamer veil of gold.--
Strangely marvelous--mocking the gaze
    Like a tangle of bright sunshine,
Dipping a million glittering rays
    In a baptism divine:
And a maiden, sheened in this gauze attire--
    Sifting a glance of her eye--
Dazzled men's souls with a fierce desire
    To kiss and caress her and--die.
And the grim King swore by his royal beard
    That the veil had won the prize,
While the gray old monster blinked and leered
    With his lashless, red-rimmed eyes,
As the fainting form of the princess fell,
    And the mother's heart went wild,
Throbbing and swelling a muffled knell
    For the dead hopes of her child.
But her clouded face with a faint smile shone,
    As suddenly, through the throng,
Pushing his way to the royal throne,
    A fair youth strode along,
While a strange smile hovered about his eyes,
    As he said to the grim old King:--
"The veil of gold must lose the prize;
    For _I_ have a stranger thing."
He bent and whispered a sentence brief;
    But the monarch shook his head,
With a look expressive of unbelief--
    "It can't be so," he said;
"Or give me proof; and I, the King,
    Give you my daughter's hand,--
For certes THAT IS a stranger thing--
    THE STRANGEST THING IN THE LAND!"
Then the fair youth, turning, caught the Queen
    In a rapturous caress,
While his lithe form towered in lordly mien,
    As he said in a brief address:--
"My fair bride's mother is this; and, lo,
    As you stare in your royal awe,
By this pure kiss do I proudly show
    A LOVE FOR A MOTHER-IN-LAW!"
Then a thaw set in the old King's mood,
    And a sweet Spring freshet came
Into his eyes, and his heart renewed
    Its love for the favored dame:
But often he has been heard to declare
    That "he never could clearly see
How, in the deuce, such a strange affair
    Could have ended so happily!"
"Write me a rhyme of the present time".
    And the poet took his pen
And wrote such lines as the miser minds
    Hide in the hearts of men.
He grew enthused, as the poets used
    When their fingers kissed the strings
Of some sweet lyre, and caught the fire
    True inspiration brings,
And sang the song of a nation's wrong--
    Of the patriot's galling chain,
And the glad release that the angel, Peace,
    Has given him again.
He sang the lay of religion's sway,
    Where a hundred creeds clasp hands
And shout in glee such a symphony
    That the whole world understands.
He struck the key of monopoly,
    And sang of her swift decay,
And traveled the track of the railway back
    With a blithesome roundelay--
Of the tranquil bliss of a true love kiss;
    And painted the picture, too,
Of the wedded life, and the patient wife,
    And the husband fond and true;
And sang the joy that a noble boy
    Brings to a father's soul,
Who lets the wine as a mocker shine
    Stagnated in the bowl.
And he stabbed his pen in the ink again,
    And wrote with a writhing frown,
"This is the end."  "And now, my friend,
    You may print it--upside down!"
PRIVATE THEATRICALS
A quite convincing axiom
    Is, "Life is like a play";
For, turning back its pages some
    Few dog-eared years away,
        I find where I
        Committed my
Love-tale--with brackets where to sigh.
I feel an idle interest
    To read again the page;
I enter, as a lover dressed,
    At twenty years of age,
        And play the part
        With throbbing heart,
And all an actor's glowing art.
And she who plays my Lady-love
    Excels!--Her loving glance
Has power her audience to move--
    I am her audience.--
        Her acting tact,
        To tell the fact,
"Brings down the house" in every act.
And often we defy the curse
    Of storms and thunder-showers,
To meet together and rehearse
    This little play of ours--
        I think, when she
        "Makes love" to me,
She kisses very naturally!
    .    .    .    .    .    .
Yes; it's convincing--rather--
    That "Life is like a play":
I am playing "Heavy Father"
    In a "Screaming Farce" to-day,
        That so "brings down
        The house," I frown,
And fain would "ring the curtain down."
PLAIN SERMONS
I saw a man--and envied him beside--
    Because of this world's goods he had great store;
But even as I envied him, he died,
    And left me envious of him no more.
I saw another man--and envied still--
    Because he was content with frugal lot;
But as I envied him, the rich man's will
    Bequeathed him all, and envy I forgot.
Yet still another man I saw, and he
    I envied for a calm and tranquil mind
That nothing fretted in the least degree--
    Until, alas! I found that he was blind.
What vanity is envy! for I find
    I have been rich in dross of thought, and poor 
In that I was a fool, and lastly blind
    For never having seen myself before!
"TRADIN' JOE"
I'm one o' these cur'ous kind o' chaps
You think you know when you don't, perhaps!
I hain't no fool--ner I don't p'tend
To be so smart I could rickommend
Myself fer a CONGERSSMAN my friend!--
But I'm kind o' betwixt-and-between, you know,--
One o' these fellers 'at folks call "slow."
And I'll say jest here I'm kind o' queer
Regardin' things 'at I SEE and HEAR,--
Fer I'm THICK o' hearin' SOMETIMES, and
It's hard to git me to understand;
But other times it hain't, you bet!
Fer I don't sleep with both eyes shet!
I've swapped a power in stock, and so
The neighbers calls me "Tradin' Joe"--
And I'm goin' to tell you 'bout a trade,--
And one o' the best I ever made:
Folks has gone so fur's to say
'At I'm well fixed, in a WORLDLY way,
And BEIN' so, and a WIDOWER,
It's not su'prisin', as you'll infer,
I'm purty handy among the sect--
Widders especially, rickollect!
And I won't deny that along o' late
I've hankered a heap fer the married state--
But some way o' 'nother the longer we wait
The harder it is to discover a mate.
Marshall Thomas,--a friend o' mine,
Doin' some in the tradin' line,
But a'most too YOUNG to know it all--
On'y at PICNICS er some BALL!--
Says to me, in a banterin' way,
As 'we was a-loadin' stock one day,--
"You're a-huntin' a wife, and I want you to see
My girl's mother, at Kankakee!--
She hain't over forty--good-lookin' and spry,
And jest the woman to fill your eye!
And I'm a-goin' there Sund'y,--and now," says he,
"I want to take you along with ME;
And you marry HER, and," he says, "by 'shaw I
You'll hev me fer yer son-in-law!"
I studied a while, and says I, "Well, I'll
First have to see ef she suits my style;
And ef she does, you kin bet your life
Your mother-in-law will be my wife!"
Well, Sundy come; and I fixed up some--
Putt on a collar--I did, by gum!--
Got down my "plug," and my satin vest--
(You wouldn't know me to see me dressed!--
But any one knows ef you got the clothes
You kin go in the crowd wher' the best of 'em goes!)
And I greeced my boots, and combed my hair
Keerfully over the bald place there;
And Marshall Thomas and me that day
Eat our dinners with Widder Gray
And her girl Han'!  *  *  *
            Well, jest a glance
O' the widder's smilin' countenance,
A-cuttin' up chicken and big pot-pies,
Would make a man hungry in Paradise!
And passin' p'serves and jelly and cake
'At would make an ANGEL'S appetite ACHE!--
Pourin' out coffee as yaller as gold--
Twic't as much as the cup could hold--
La! it was rich!--And then she'd say,
"Take some o' THIS!' in her coaxin' way,
Tell ef I'd been a hoss I'd 'a' FOUNDERED, shore,
And jest dropped dead on her white-oak floor!
Well, the way I talked would 'a' done you good,
Ef you'd 'a' been there to 'a' understood;
Tel I noticed Hanner and Marshall, they
Was a-noticin' me in a cur'ous way;
So I says to myse'f, says I, "Now, Joe,
The best thing fer you is to jest go slow!"
And I simmered down, and let them do
The bulk o' the talkin' the evening through.
And Marshall was still in a talkative gait
When he left, that evening--tolable late.
"How do you like her?" he says to me;
Says I, "She suits, to a 'T-Y-TEE'!
And then I ast how matters stood
With him in the OPPOSITE neighberhood?
"Bully!" he says; "I ruther guess
I'll finally git her to say the 'yes.'
I named it to her to-night, and she
Kind o' smiled, and said 'SHE'D SEE'--
And that's a purty good sign!" says he:
"Yes" says I, "you're ahead o' ME!"
And then he laughed, and said, "GO IN!
And patted me on the shoulder ag'in.
Well, ever sense then I've been ridin' a good
Deal through the Kankakee neighberhood;
And I make it convenient sometimes to stop
And hitch a few minutes, and kind o' drop
In at the widder's, and talk o' the crop
And one thing o' 'nother.  And week afore last
The notion struck me, as I drove past,
I'd stop at the place and state my case--
Might as well do it at first as last!
I felt first-rate; so I hitched at the gate,
And went up to the house; and, strange to relate,
MARSHALL THOMAS had dropped in, TOO.--
"Glad to see you, sir, how do you do?"
He says, says he!  Well--it SOUNDED QUEER:
And when Han' told me to take a cheer,
Marshall got up and putt out o' the room--
And motioned his hand fer the WIDDER to come.
I didn't say nothin' fer quite a spell,
But thinks I to myse'f, "There's a dog in the well!"
And Han' SHE smiled so cur'ous at me--
Says I, "What's up?"  And she says, says she,
"Marshall's been at me to marry ag'in,
And I told him 'no,' jest as you come in."
Well, somepin' o' 'nother in that girl's voice
Says to me, "Joseph, here's your choice!"
And another minute her guileless breast
Was lovin'ly throbbin' ag'in my vest!--
And then I kissed her, and heerd a smack
Come like a' echo a-flutterin' back,
And we looked around, and in full view
Marshall was kissin' the widder, too!
Well, we all of us laughed, in our glad su'prise,
Tel the tears come A-STREAMIN' out of our eyes!
And when Marsh said "'Twas the squarest trade
That ever me and him had made,"
We both shuck hands, 'y jucks! and swore
We'd stick together ferevermore.
And old Squire Chipman tuck us the trip:
And Marshall and me's in pardnership!
DOT LEEDLE BOY
Ot's a leedle Gristmas story
    Dot I told der leedle folks--
Und I vant you stop dot laughin'
    Und grackin' funny jokes!--
So help me Peter-Moses!
    Ot's no time for monkey-shine,
Ober I vast told you somedings
    Of dot leedle boy of mine!
Ot vas von cold Vinter vedder,
    Ven der snow vas all about--
Dot you have to chop der hatchet
    Eef you got der sauerkraut!
Und der cheekens on der hind leg
    Vas standin' in der shine
Der sun shmile out dot morning
    On dot leedle boy of mine.
He vas yoost a leedle baby
    Not bigger as a doll
Dot time I got acquaintet--
    Ach! you ought to heard 'im squall!--
I grackys! dot's der moosic
    Ot make me feel so fine
Ven first I vas been marriet--
    Oh, dot leedle boy of mine!
He look yoost like his fader!--
    So, ven der vimmen said,
"Vot a purty leedle baby!"
    Katrina shake der head. . . .
I dink she must 'a' notice
    Dot der baby vas a-gryin',
Und she cover up der blankets
    Of dot leedle boy of mine.
Vel, ven he vas got bigger,
    Dot he grawl und bump his nose,
Und make der table over,
    Und molasses on his glothes--
Dot make 'im all der sveeter,--
    So I say to my Katrine,
"Better you vas quit a-shpankin'
    Dot leedle boy of mine!"
No more he vas older
    As about a dozen months
He speak der English language
    Und der German--bote at vonce!
Und he dringk his glass of lager
    Like a Londsman fon der Rhine--
Und I klingk my glass togeder
    Mit dot leedle boy of mine!
I vish you could 'a' seen id--
    Ven he glimb up on der chair
Und shmash der lookin'-glasses
    Ven he try to comb his hair
Mit a hammer!--Und Katrina
    Say, "Dot's an ugly sign!"
But I laugh und vink my fingers
    At dot leedle boy of mine.
But vonce, dot Vinter morning,
    He shlip out in der snow
Mitout no stockin's on 'im.--
    He say he "vant to go
Und fly some mit der birdies!"
    Und ve give 'im medi-cine
Ven he catch der "parrygoric"--
    Dot leedle boy of mine!
Und so I set und nurse 'im,
    Vile der Gristmas vas come roun',
Und I told 'im 'bout "Kriss Kringle,"
    How he come der chimbly down:
Und I ask 'im eef he love 'im
    Eef he bring 'im someding fine?
"Nicht besser as mein fader,"
    Say dot leedle boy of mine.--
Und he put his arms aroun' me
    Und hug so close und tight,
I hear der gclock a-tickin'
    All der balance of der night! .  .  .
Someding make me feel so funny
    Ven I say to my Katrine,
"Let us go und fill der stockin's
    Of dot leedle boy of mine."
Vell.--Ve buyed a leedle horses
    Dot you pull 'im mit a shtring,
Und a leedle fancy jay-bird--
    Eef you vant to hear 'im sing
You took 'im by der topknot
    Und yoost blow in behine--
Und dot make much spectakel
    For dot leedle boy of mine!
Und gandies, nuts und raizens--
    Und I buy a leedle drum
Dot I vant to hear 'im rattle
    Ven der Gristmas morning come!
Und a leedle shmall tin rooster
    Dot vould crow so loud und fine
Ven he sqveeze 'im in der morning,
    Dot leedle boy of mine!
Und--vile ve vas a-fixin'--
    Dot leedle boy vake out!
I t'ought he been a-dreamin'
    "Kriss Kringle" vas about,--
For he say--"DOT'S HIM!--I SEE 'IM
    MIT DER SHTARS DOT MAKE DER SHINE!"
Und he yoost keep on a-gryin'--
    Dot leedle boy of mine,--
Und gottin' vorse und vorser--
    Und tumble on der bed!
So--ven der doctor seen id,
    He kindo' shake his head,
Und feel his pulse--und visper,
    "Der boy is a-dyin'."
You dink I could BELIEVE id?--
    DOT LEEDLE BOY OF MINE?
I told you, friends--dot's someding,
    Der last time dot he speak
Und say, "GOOT-BY, KRISS KRINGLE!"
    --Dot make me feel so veak
I yoost kneel down und drimble,
    Und bur-sed out a-gryin',
"MEIN GOTT, MEIN GOTT IN HIMMEL!--
    DOT LEEDLE BOY OF MINE!"
.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
Der sun don't shine DOT Gristmas!
    . . . Eef dot leedle boy vould LIFF'D--
No deefer-en'! for HEAVEN vas
    His leedle Gristmas gift!
Und der ROOSTER, und der GANDY,
    Und me--und my Katrine--
Und der jay-bird--is awaiting
    For dot leedle boy of mine.
I SMOKE MY PIPE
I can't extend to every friend
    In need a helping hand--
No matter though I wish it so,
    'Tis not as Fortune planned;
But haply may I fancy they
    Are men of different stripe
Than others think who hint and wink,--
    And so--I smoke my pipe!
A golden coal to crown the bowl--
    My pipe and I alone,--
I sit and muse with idler views
    Perchance than I should own:--
It might be worse to own the purse
    Whose glutted bowels gripe
In little qualms of stinted alms;
    And so I smoke my pipe.
And if inclined to moor my mind
    And cast the anchor Hope,
A puff of breath will put to death
    The morbid misanthrope
That lurks inside--as errors hide
    In standing forms of type
To mar at birth some line of worth;
    And so I smoke my pipe.
The subtle stings misfortune flings
    Can give me little pain
When my narcotic spell has wrought
    This quiet in my brain:
When I can waste the past in taste
    So luscious and so ripe
That like an elf I hug myself;
    And so I smoke my pipe.
And wrapped in shrouds of drifting clouds,
    I watch the phantom's flight,
Till alien eyes from Paradise
    Smile on me as I write:
And I forgive the wrongs that live,
    As lightly as I wipe
Away the tear that rises here;
    And so I smoke my pipe.
RED RIDING-HOOD
Sweet little myth of the nursery story--
    Earliest love of mine infantile breast,
Be something tangible, bloom in thy glory
    Into existence, as thou art addressed!
Hasten! appear to me, guileless and good--
    Thou are so dear to me, Red Riding-Hood!
Azure-blue eyes, in a marvel of wonder,
    Over the dawn of a blush breaking out;
Sensitive nose, with a little smile under
    Trying to hide in a blossoming pout--
Couldn't be serious, try as you would,
    Little mysterious Red Riding-Hood!
Hah! little girl, it is desolate, lonely,
    Out in this gloomy old forest of Life!--
Here are not pansies and buttercups only--
    Brambles and briers as keen as a knife;
And a Heart, ravenous, trails in the wood
For the meal have he must,--Red Riding-Hood!
IF I KNEW WHAT POETS KNOW
If I knew what poets know,
    Would I write a rhyme
Of the buds that never blow
    In the summer-time?
Would I sing of golden seeds
Springing up in ironweeds?
And of rain-drops turned to snow,
If I knew what poets know?
Did I know what poets do,
    Would I sing a song
Sadder than the pigeon's coo
    When the days are long?
Where I found a heart in pain,
I would make it glad again;
And the false should be the true,
Did I know what poets do.
If I knew what poets know,
    I would find a theme
Sweeter than the placid flow
    Of the fairest dream:
I would sing of love that lives
On the errors it forgives;
And the world would better grow
If I knew what poets know.
AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE
An old sweetheart of mine!--Is this her presence here with me,
Or but a vain creation of a lover's memory?
A fair, illusive vision that would vanish into air
Dared I even touch the silence with the whisper of a prayer?
Nay, let me then believe in all the blended false and true--
The semblance of the OLD love and the substance of the NEW,--
The THEN of changeless sunny days--the NOW of shower and shine--
But Love forever smiling--as that old sweetheart of mine.
This ever-restful sense of HOME, though shouts ring in the
The easy chair--the old book-shelves and prints along the wall;
The rare HABANAS in their box, or gaunt church-warden-stem
That often wags, above the jar, derisively at them.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album, all alone,
And muses on the faces of the friends that he has known,
So I turn the leaves of Fancy, till, in shadowy design,
I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine.
The lamplight seems to glimmer with a flicker of surprise,
As I turn it low--to rest me of the dazzle in my eyes,
And light my pipe in silence, save a sigh that seems to yoke
Its fate with my tobacco and to vanish with the smoke.
'Tis a FRAGRANT retrospection,--for the loving thoughts that
Into being are like perfume from the blossom of the heart;
And to dream the old dreams over is a luxury divine--
When my truant fancies wander with that old sweetheart of mine.
Though I hear beneath my study, like a fluttering of wings,
The voices of my children and the mother as she sings--
I feel no twinge of conscience to deny me any theme
When Care has cast her anchor in the harbor of a dream--
In fact, to speak in earnest, I believe it adds a charm
To spice the good a trifle with a little dust of harm,--
For I find an extra flavor in Memory's mellow wine
That makes me drink the deeper to that old sweetheart of mine.
O Childhood-days enchanted!  O the magic of the Spring!--
With all green boughs to blossom white, and all bluebirds to
When all the air, to toss and quaff, made life a jubilee
And changed the children's song and laugh to shrieks of ecstasy.
With eyes half closed in clouds that ooze from lips that taste,
The peppermint and cinnamon, I hear the old School bell,
And from "Recess" romp in again from "Black-man's" broken line,
To smile, behind my "lesson," at that old sweetheart of mine.
A face of lily-beauty, with a form of airy grace,
Floats out of my tobacco as the Genii from the vase;
And I thrill beneath the glances of a pair of azure eyes
As glowing as the summer and as tender as the skies.
I can see the pink sunbonnet and the little checkered dress
She wore when first I kissed her and she answered the caress
With the written declaration that, "as surely as the vine
Grew 'round the stump," she loved me--that old sweetheart of
Again I made her presents, in a really helpless way,--
The big "Rhode Island Greening"--I was hungry, too, that day!--
But I follow her from Spelling, with her hand behind her--so--
And I slip the apple in it--and the Teacher doesn't know!
I give my TREASURES to her--all,--my pencil--blue-and-red;--
And, if little girls played marbles, MINE should all be HERS,
But SHE gave me her PHOTOGRAPH, and printed "Ever Thine"
Across the back--in blue-and-red--that old sweet-heart of mine!
And again I feel the pressure of her slender little hand,
As we used to talk together of the future we had planned,--
When I should be a poet, and with nothing else to do
But write the tender verses that she set the music to . . .
When we should live together in a cozy little cot
Hid in a nest of roses, with a fairy garden-spot,
Where the vines were ever fruited, and the weather ever fine,
And the birds were ever singing for that old sweetheart of mine.
When I should be her lover forever and a day,
And she my faithful sweetheart till the golden hair was gray;
And we should be so happy that when either's lips were dumb
They would not smile in Heaven till the other's kiss had come.
But, ah! my dream is broken by a step upon the stair,
And the door is softly opened, and--my wife is standing there:
Yet with eagerness and rapture all my visions I resign,--
To greet the LIVING presence of that old sweetheart of mine.
SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY
I hain't no hand at tellin' tales,
Er spinnin' yarns, as the sailors say;
Someway o' 'nother, language fails
To slide fer me in the oily way
That LAWYERS has; and I wisht it would,
Fer I've got somepin' that I call good;
But bein' only a country squire,
I've learned to listen and admire,
Ruther preferrin' to be addressed
Than talk myse'f--but I'll do my best:--
Old Jeff Thompson--well, I'll say,
Was the clos'test man I ever saw!--
Rich as cream, but the porest pay,
And the meanest man to work fer--La!
I've knowed that man to work one "hand"--
Fer little er nothin', you understand--
From four o'clock in the morning light
Tel eight and nine o'clock at night,
And then find fault with his appetite!
He'd drive all over the neighberhood 
To miss the place where a toll-gate stood,
And slip in town, by some old road
That no two men in the county knowed,
With a jag o' wood, and a sack o' wheat,
That wouldn't burn and you couldn't eat!
And the trades he'd make, 'll I jest de-clare,
Was enough to make a preacher swear!
And then he'd hitch, and hang about
Tel the lights in the toll-gate was blowed out,
And then the turnpike he'd turn in
And sneak his way back home ag'in!
Some folks hint, and I make no doubt,
That that's what wore his old wife out--
Toilin' away from day to day
And year to year, through heat and cold,
Uncomplainin'--the same old way
The martyrs died in the days of old;
And a-clingin', too, as the martyrs done,
To one fixed faith, and her ONLY one,--
Little Patience, the sweetest child
That ever wept unrickonciled,
Er felt the pain and the ache and sting
That only a mother's death can bring.
Patience Thompson!--I think that name
Must 'a' come from a power above,
Fer it seemed to fit her jest the same
As a GAITER would, er a fine kid glove!
And to see that girl, with all the care
Of the household on her--I de-clare
It was OUDACIOUS, the work she'd do,
And the thousand plans that she'd putt through;
And sing like a medder-lark all day long,
And drowned her cares in the joys o' song;
And LAUGH sometimes tel the farmer's "hand,"
Away fur off in the fields, would stand
A-listenin', with the plow half drawn,
Tel the coaxin' echoes called him on;
And the furries seemed, in his dreamy eyes,
Like foot-paths a-leadin' to Paradise,
As off through the hazy atmosphere
The call fer dinner reached his ear.
Now LOVE'S as cunnin'a little thing
As a hummin'-bird upon the wing,
And as liable to poke his nose
Jest where folks would least suppose,--
And more'n likely build his nest
Right in the heart you'd leave unguessed,
And live and thrive at your expense--
At least, that's MY experience.
And old Jeff Thompson often thought,
In his se'fish way, that the quiet John
Was a stiddy chap, as a farm-hand OUGHT
To always be,--fer the airliest dawn
Found John busy--and "EASY," too,
Whenever his wages would fall due!--
To sum him up with a final touch,
He EAT so little and WORKED so much,
That old Jeff laughed to hisse'f and said,
"He makes ME money and airns his bread!--
But John, fer all of his quietude,
Would sometimes drap a word er so
That none but PATIENCE understood,
And none but her was MEANT to know!--
Maybe at meal-times John would say,
As the sugar-bowl come down his way,
"Thanky, no; MY coffee's sweet
Enough fer ME!" with sich conceit,
SHE'D know at once, without no doubt,
HE meant because she poured it out;
And smile and blush, and all sich stuff,
And ast ef it was "STRONG enough?"
And git the answer, neat and trim,
"It COULDN'T be too 'strong' fer HIM!"
And so things went fer 'bout a year,
Tel John, at last, found pluck to go
And pour his tale in the old man's ear--
And ef it had been HOT LEAD, I know
It couldn't 'a' raised a louder fuss,
Ner 'a' riled the old man's temper wuss!
He jest LIT in, and cussed and swore,
And lunged and rared, and ripped and tore,
And told John jest to leave his door,
And not to darken it no more!
But Patience cried, with eyes all wet,
"Remember, John, and don't ferget,
WHATEVER comes, I love you yet!"
But the old man thought, in his se'fish way,
"I'll see her married rich some day;
And THAT," thinks he, "is money fer ME--
And my will's LAW, as it ought to be!"
So when, in the course of a month er so,
A WIDOWER, with a farm er two,
Comes to Jeff's, w'y, the folks, you know,
Had to TALK--as the folks'll do:
It was the talk of the neighberhood--
PATIENCE and JOHN, and THEIR affairs;--
And this old chap with a few gray hairs
Had "cut John out," it was understood.
And some folks reckoned "Patience, too,
Knowed what SHE was a-goin' to do--
It was LIKE her--la! indeed!--
All she loved was DOLLARS and CENTS--
Like old JEFF--and they saw no need
Fer JOHN to pine at HER negligence!"
But others said, in a KINDER way,
They missed the songs she used to sing--
They missed the smiles that used to play
Over her face, and the laughin' ring
Of her glad voice--that EVERYthing
Of her OLD se'f seemed dead and gone,
And this was the ghost that they gazed on!
Tel finally it was noised about
There was a WEDDIN' soon to be
Down at Jeff's; and the "cat was out"
Shore enough!--'Ll the JEE-MUN-NEE!
It RILED me when John told me so,--
Fer _I_ WAS A FRIEND O' JOHN'S, you know;
And his trimblin' voice jest broke in two--
As a feller's voice'll sometimes do.--
And I says, says I, "Ef I know my biz--
And I think I know what JESTICE is,--
I've read SOME law--and I'd advise
A man like you to wipe his eyes
And square his jaws and start AGIN,
FER JESTICE IS A-GOIN' TO WIN!"
And it wasn't long tel his eyes had cleared
As blue as the skies, and the sun appeared
In the shape of a good old-fashioned smile
That I hadn't seen fer a long, long while.
So we talked on fer a' hour er more,
And sunned ourselves in the open door,--
Tel a hoss-and-buggy down the road
Come a-drivin' up, that I guess John KNOWED,--
Fer he winked and says, "I'll dessappear--
THEY'D smell a mice ef they saw ME here!"
And he thumbed his nose at the old gray mare,
And hid hisse'f in the house somewhere.
Well.--The rig drove up: and I raised my head
As old Jeff hollered to me and said
That "him and his old friend there had come
To see ef the squire was at home."
. . . I told 'em "I was; and I AIMED to be
At every chance of a weddin'-fee!"
And then I laughed--and they laughed, too,--
Fer that was the object they had in view.
"Would I be on hands at eight that night?"
They ast; and 's-I, "You're mighty right,
I'LL be on hand!"  And then I BU'ST
Out a-laughin' my very wu'st,--
And so did they, as they wheeled away
And drove to'rds town in a cloud o' dust.
Then I shet the door, and me and John
Laughed and LAUGHED, and jest LAUGHED on,
Tel Mother drapped her specs, and BY
JEEWHILLIKERS!  I thought she'd DIE!--
And she couldn't 'a' told, I'll bet my hat,
What on earth she was laughin' at!
But all o' the fun o' the tale hain't done!--
Fer a drizzlin' rain had jest begun,
And a-havin' 'bout four mile' to ride,
I jest concluded I'd better light
Out fer Jeff's and save my hide,--
Fer IT WAS A-GOIN' TO STORM, THAT NIGHT!
So we went down to the barn, and John
Saddled my beast, and I got on;
And he told me somepin' to not ferget,
And when I left, he was LAUGHIN' yet.
And, 'proachin' on to my journey's end,
The great big draps o' the rain come down,
And the thunder growled in a way to lend
An awful look to the lowerin' frown
The dull sky wore; and the lightnin' glanced
Tel my old mare jest MORE'N pranced,
And tossed her head, and bugged her eyes
To about four times their natchurl size,
As the big black lips of the clouds 'ud drap
Out some oath of a thunderclap,
And threaten on in an undertone
That chilled a feller clean to the bone!
But I struck shelter soon enough
To save myse'f.  And the house was jammed
With the women-folks, and the weddin'stuff:--
A great, long table, fairly CRAMMED
With big pound-cakes--and chops and steaks--
And roasts and stews--and stumick-aches
Of every fashion, form, and size,
From twisters up to punkin-pies!
And candies, oranges, and figs,
And reezins,--all the "whilligigs"
And "jim-cracks" that the law allows
On sich occasions!--Bobs and bows
Of gigglin' girls, with corkscrew curls,
And fancy ribbons, reds and blues,
And "beau-ketchers" and "curliques"
To beat the world!  And seven o'clock
Brought old Jeff;-and brought--THE GROOM,--
With a sideboard-collar on, and stock
That choked him so, he hadn't room
To SWALLER in, er even sneeze,
Er clear his th'oat with any case
Er comfort--and a good square cough
Would saw his Adam's apple off!
But as fer PATIENCE--MY! Oomh-OOMH!--
I never saw her look so sweet!--
Her face was cream and roses, too;
And then them eyes o' heavenly blue
Jest made an angel all complete!
And when she split 'em up in smiles
And splintered 'em around the room,
And danced acrost and met the groom,
And LAUGHED OUT LOUD--It kind o' spiles
My language when I come to that--
Fer, as she laid away his hat,
Thinks I, "THE PAPERS HID INSIDE
OF THAT SAID HAT MUST MAKE A BRIDE
A HAPPY ONE FER ALL HER LIFE,
Er else a WRECKED AND WRETCHED WIFE!"
And, someway, then, I thought of JOHN,--
Then looked towards PATIENCE. . . .  She was GONE!--
The door stood open, and the rain
Was dashin' in; and sharp and plain
Above the storm we heerd a cry--
A ringin', laughin', loud "Good-by!"
That died away, as fleet and fast
A hoss's hoofs went splashin' past!
And that was all.  'Twas done that quick! . . .
You've heerd o' fellers "lookin' sick"?
I wisht you'd seen THE GROOM jest then--
I wisht you'd seen them two old men,
With starin' eyes that fairly GLARED
At one another, and the scared
And empty faces of the crowd,--
I wisht you could 'a' been allowed
To jest look on and see it all,--
And heerd the girls and women bawl
And wring their hands; and heerd old Jeff
A-cussin' as he swung hisse'f
Upon his hoss, who champed his bit
As though old Nick had holt of it:
And cheek by jowl the two old wrecks
Rode off as though they'd break their necks.
And as we all stood starin' out
Into the night, I felt the brush
Of some one's hand, and turned about,
And heerd a voice that whispered, "HUSH!--
THEY'RE WAITIN' IN THE KITCHEN, AND
YOU'RE WANTED.  DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Well, ef my MEMORY serves me now,
I think I winked.--Well, anyhow,
I left the crowd a-gawkin' there,
And jest slipped off around to where
The back door opened, and went in,
And turned and shet the door ag'in,
And maybe LOCKED it--couldn't swear,--
A woman's arms around me makes
Me liable to make mistakes.--
I read a marriage license nex',
But as I didn't have my specs
I jest INFERRED it was all right,
And tied the knot so mortal-tight
That Patience and my old friend John
Was safe enough from that time on!
Well, now, I might go on and tell
How all the joke at last leaked out,
And how the youngsters raised the yell
And rode the happy groom about
Upon their shoulders; how the bride
Was kissed a hunderd times beside
The one _I_ give her,--tel she cried
And laughed untel she like to died!
I might go on and tell you all
About the supper--and the BALL.--
You'd ought to see me twist my heel
Through jest one old Furginny reel
Afore you die! er tromp the strings
Of some old fiddle tel she sings
Some old cowtillion, don't you know,
That putts the devil in yer toe!
We kep' the dancin' up tel FOUR
O'clock, I reckon--maybe more.--
We hardly heerd the thunders roar,
ER THOUGHT about the STORM that blowed--
AND THEM TWO FELLERS ON THE ROAD!
Tel all at onc't we heerd the door
Bu'st open, and a voice that SWORE,--
And old Jeff Thompson tuck the floor.
He shuck hisse'f and looked around
Like some old dog about half-drowned--
HIS HAT, I reckon, WEIGHED TEN POUND
To say the least, and I'll say, SHORE,
HIS OVERCOAT WEIGHED FIFTY more--
THE WETTEST MAN YOU EVER SAW,
TO HAVE SO DRY A SON-IN-LAW!
He sized it all; and Patience laid
Her hand in John's, and looked afraid,
And waited.  And a stiller set
O' folks, I KNOW, you never met
In any court room, where with dread
They wait to hear a verdick read.
The old man turned his eyes on me:
"And have you married 'em?" says he.
I nodded "Yes."  "Well, that'll do,"
He says, "and now we're th'ough with YOU,--
YOU jest clear out, and I decide
And promise to be satisfied!"
He hadn't nothin' more to say.
I saw, of course, how matters lay,
And left.  But as I rode away
I heerd the roosters crow fer day.
A COUNTRY PATHWAY
I come upon it suddenly, alone--
    A little pathway winding in the weeds
That fringe the roadside; and with dreams my own,
    I wander as it leads.
Full wistfully along the slender way,
    Through summer tan of freckled shade and shine,
I take the path that leads me as it may--
    Its every choice is mine.
A chipmunk, or a sudden-whirring quail,
    Is startled by my step as on I fare--
A garter-snake across the dusty trail
    Glances and--is not there.
Above the arching jimson-weeds flare twos
    And twos of sallow-yellow butterflies,
Like blooms of lorn primroses blowing loose
    When autumn winds arise.
The trail dips--dwindles--broadens then, and lifts
    Itself astride a cross-road dubiously,
And, from the fennel marge beyond it, drifts
    Still onward, beckoning me.
And though it needs must lure me mile on mile
    Out of the public highway, still I go,
My thoughts, far in advance in Indian file,
    Allure me even so.
Why, I am as a long-lost boy that went
    At dusk to bring the cattle to the bars,
And was not found again, though Heaven lent
    His mother all the stars
With which to seek him through that awful night
    O years of nights as vain!--Stars never rise
But well might miss their glitter in the light
    Of tears in mother-eyes!
So--on, with quickened breaths, I follow still--
    My avant-courier must be obeyed!
Thus am I led, and thus the path, at will,
    Invites me to invade
A meadow's precincts, where my daring guide
    Clambers the steps of an old-fashioned stile,
And stumbles down again, the other side,
    To gambol there a while.
In pranks of hide-and-seek, as on ahead
    I see it running, while the clover-stalks
Shake rosy fists at me, as though they said--
    "You dog our country walks
"And mutilate us with your walking-stick!--
    We will not suffer tamely what you do,
And warn you at your peril,--for we'll sick
    Our bumblebees on you!"
But I smile back, in airy nonchalance,--
    The more determined on my wayward quest,
As some bright memory a moment dawns
    A morning in my breast--
Sending a thrill that hurries me along
    In faulty similes of childish skips,
Enthused with lithe contortions of a song
    Performing on my lips.
In wild meanderings o'er pasture wealth--
    Erratic wanderings through dead'ning lands,
Where sly old brambles, plucking me by stealth,
    Put berries in my hands:
Or the path climbs a boulder--wades a slough--
    Or, rollicking through buttercups and flags,
Goes gaily dancing o'er a deep bayou
    On old tree-trunks and snags:
Or, at the creek, leads o'er a limpid pool
    Upon a bridge the stream itself has made,
With some Spring-freshet for the mighty tool
    That its foundation laid.
I pause a moment here to bend and muse,
    With dreamy eyes, on my reflection, where
A boat-backed bug drifts on a helpless cruise,
    Or wildly oars the air,
As, dimly seen, the pirate of the brook--
    The pike, whose jaunty hulk denotes his speed--
Swings pivoting about, with wary look
    Of low and cunning greed.
Till, filled with other thought, I turn again
    To where the pathway enters in a realm
Of lordly woodland, under sovereign reign
    Of towering oak and elm.
A puritanic quiet here reviles
    The almost whispered warble from the hedge,
And takes a locust's rasping voice and files
    The silence to an edge.
In such a solitude my somber way
    Strays like a misanthrope within a gloom
Of his own shadows--till the perfect day
    Bursts into sudden bloom,
And crowns a long, declining stretch of space,
    Where King Corn's armies lie with flags unfurled,
And where the valley's dint in Nature's face
    Dimples a smiling world.
And lo! through mists that may not be dispelled,
    I see an old farm homestead, as in dreams,
Where, like a gem in costly setting held,
    The old log cabin gleams.
    .   .   .   .   .   .   .
O darling Pathway! lead me bravely on
    Adown your valley-way, and run before
Among the roses crowding up the lawn
    And thronging at the door,--
And carry up the echo there that shall
    Arouse the drowsy dog, that he may bay
The household out to greet the prodigal
    That wanders home to-day.
THE  OLD  GUITAR
Neglected now is the old guitar
    And moldering into decay;
Fretted with many a rift and scar
    That the dull dust hides away,
While the spider spins a silver star
    In its silent lips to-day.
The keys hold only nerveless strings--
    The sinews of brave old airs
Are pulseless now; and the scarf that clings
    So closely here declares
A sad regret in its ravelings
    And the faded hue it wears.
But the old guitar, with a lenient grace,
    Has cherished a smile for me;
And its features hint of a fairer face
    That comes with a memory
Of a flower-and-perfume-haunted place
    And a moonlit balcony.
Music sweeter than words confess,
    Or the minstrel's powers invent,
Thrilled here once at the light caress
    Of the fairy hands that lent
This excuse for the kiss I press
    On the dear old instrument.
The rose of pearl with the jeweled stem
    Still blooms; and the tiny sets
In the circle all are here; the gem
    In the keys, and the silver frets;
But the dainty fingers that danced o'er them--
    Alas for the heart's regrets!--
Alas for the loosened strings to-day,
    And the wounds of rift and scar
On a worn old heart, with its roundelay
    Enthralled with a stronger bar
That Fate weaves on, through a dull decay
    Like that of the old guitar!
"FRIDAY AFTERNOON"
TO WILLIAM MORRIS PIERSON
Of the wealth of facts and fancies
    That our memories may recall,
The old school-day romances
    Are the dearest, after all!--.
When some sweet thought revises
    The half-forgotten tune
That opened "Exercises"
    On "Friday Afternoon."
We seem to hear the clicking
    Of the pencil and the pen,
And the solemn, ceaseless ticking
    Of the timepiece ticking then;
And we note the watchful master,
    As he waves the warning rod,
With our own heart beating faster
    Than the boy's who threw the wad.
Some little hand uplifted,
    And the creaking of a shoe:--
A problem left unsifted
    For the teacher's hand to do:
The murmured hum of learning--
    And the flutter of a book;
The smell of something burning,
    And the school's inquiring look.
The bashful boy in blushes;
    And the girl, with glancing eyes,
Who hides her smiles, and hushes
    The laugh about to rise,--
Then, with a quick invention,
    Assumes a serious face,
To meet the words, "Attention!
    Every scholar in his place!"
The opening song, page 20.--
    Ah! dear old "Golden Wreath,"
You willed your sweets in plenty;
    And some who look beneath
The leaves of Time will linger,
    And loving tears will start,
As Fancy trails her finger
    O'er the index of the heart.
"Good News from Home"--We hear it
    Welling tremulous, yet clear
And holy as the spirit
    Of the song we used to hear--
"Good news for me" (A throbbing
    And an aching melody)--
"Has come across the"--(sobbing,
    Yea, and salty) "dark blue sea!"
Or the paean "Scotland's burning!"
    With its mighty surge and swell
Of chorus, still returning
    To its universal yell--
Till we're almost glad to drop to
    Something sad and full of pain--
And "Skip verse three," and stop, too,
    Ere our hearts are broke again.
Then "the big girls'" compositions,
    With their doubt, and hope, and glow
Of heart and face,--conditions
    Of "the big boys"--even so,--
When themes of "Spring," and "Summer"
    And of "Fall," and "Winter-time"
Droop our heads and hold us dumber
    Than the sleigh-bell's fancied chime.
Elocutionary science--
    (Still in changeless infancy!)--
With its "Cataline's Defiance,"
    And "The Banner of the Free":
Or, lured from Grandma's attic,
    A ramshackle "rocker" there,
Adds a skreek of the dramatic
    To the poet's "Old Arm-Chair."
Or the "Speech of Logan" shifts us
    From the pathos, to the fire;
And Tell (with Gessler) lifts us
    Many noble notches higher.--
Till a youngster, far from sunny,
    With sad eyes of watery blue,
Winds up with something "funny,"
    Like "Cock-a-doodle-do!"
Then a dialogue--selected
    For its realistic worth:--
The Cruel Boy detected
    With a turtle turned to earth
Back downward; and, in pleading,
    The Good Boy--strangely gay
At such a sad proceeding--
    Says, "Turn him over, pray!"
So the exercises taper
    Through gradations of delight
To the reading of "The Paper,"
    Which is entertaining--quite!
For it goes ahead and mentions
    "If a certain Mr. O.
Has serious intentions
    That he ought to tell her so."
It also "Asks permission
    To intimate to 'John'
The dubious condition
    Of the ground he's standing on";
And, dropping the suggestion
    To "mind what he's about,"
It stuns him with the question:
    "Does his mother know he's out?"
And among the contributions
    To this "Academic Press"
Are "Versified Effusions"
    By--"Our lady editress"--
Which fact is proudly stated
    By the CHIEF of the concern,--
"Though the verse communicated
    Bears the pen-name 'Fanny Fern.' "
    .   .   .   .   .   .
When all has been recited,
    And the teacher's bell is heard,
And visitors, invited,
    Have dropped a kindly word,
A hush of holy feeling
    Falls down upon us there,
As though the day were kneeling,
    With the twilight for the prayer.
    .   .   .   .   .   .
Midst the wealth of facts and fancies
    That our memories may recall,
Thus the old school-day romances
    Are the dearest, after all!--
When some sweet thought revises
    The half-forgotten tune
That opened "Exercises,"
    On "Friday Afternoon."
"JOHNSON'S BOY"
The world is turned ag'in' me,
    And people says, "They guess
That nothin' else is in me
    But pure maliciousness!"
I git the blame for doin'
    What other chaps destroy,
And I'm a-goin' to ruin
    Because I'm "Johnson's boy."
THAT ain't my name--I'd ruther
    They'd call me IKE or PAT--
But they've forgot the other--
    And so have _I_, for that!
I reckon it's as handy,
    When Nibsy breaks his toy,
Or some one steals his candy,
    To say 'twas "JOHNSON'S BOY!"
You can't git any water
    At the pump, and find the spout
So durn chuck-full o' mortar
    That you have to bore it out;
You tackle any scholar
    In Wisdom's wise employ,
And I'll bet you half a dollar
    He'll say it's "Johnson's boy!"
Folks don't know how I suffer
    In my uncomplainin' way--
They think I'm gittin' tougher
    And tougher every day.
Last Sunday night, when Flinder
    Was a-shoutin' out for joy,
And some one shook the winder,
    He prayed for "Johnson's boy."
I'm tired of bein' follered
    By farmers every day,
And then o' bein' collared
    For coaxin' hounds away;
Hounds always plays me double--
    It's a trick they all enjoy--
To git me into trouble,
    Because I'm "Johnson's boy."
But if I git to Heaven,
    I hope the Lord'll see
SOME boy has been perfect,
    And lay it on to me;
I'll swell the song sonorous,
    And clap my wings for joy,
And sail off on the chorus--
    "Hurrah for 'Johnson's boy!'"
HER BEAUTIFUL HANDS
Your hands--they are strangely fair!
O Fair--for the jewels that sparkle there,--
Fair--for the witchery of the spell
That ivory keys alone can tell;
But when their delicate touches rest
Here in my own do I love them best,
As I clasp with eager, acquisitive spans
My glorious treasure of beautiful hands!
Marvelous--wonderful--beautiful hands!
They can coax roses to bloom in the strands
Of your brown tresses; and ribbons will twine,
Under mysterious touches of thine,
Into such knots as entangle the soul
And fetter the heart under such a control
As only the strength of my love understands--
My passionate love for your beautiful hands.
As I remember the first fair touch
Of those beautiful hands that I love so much,
I seem to thrill as I then was thrilled,
Kissing the glove that I found unfilled--
When I met your gaze, and the queenly bow,
As you said to me, laughingly, "Keep it now!" . . .
And dazed and alone in a dream I stand,
Kissing this ghost of your beautiful hand.
When first I loved, in the long ago,
And held your hand as I told you so--
Pressed and caressed it and gave it a kiss
And said "I could die for a hand like this!"
Little I dreamed love's fullness yet
Had to ripen when eyes were wet
And prayers were vain in their wild demands
For one warm touch of your beautiful hands.
.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
Beautiful Hands!--O Beautiful Hands!
Could you reach out of the alien lands
Where you are lingering, and give me, to-night,
Only a touch--were it ever so light--
My heart were soothed, and my weary brain
Would lull itself into rest again;
For there is no solace the world commands
Like the caress of your beautiful hands.
NATURAL PERVERSITIES
I am not prone to moralize
    In scientific doubt
On certain facts that Nature tries
    To puzzle us about,--
For I am no philosopher
    Of wise elucidation,
But speak of things as they occur,
    From simple observation.
I notice LITTLE things--to wit:--
    I never missed a train
Because I didn't RUN for it;
    I never knew it rain
That my umbrella wasn't lent,--
    Or, when in my possession,
The sun but wore, to all intent,
    A jocular expression.
I never knew a creditor
    To dun me for a debt
But I was "cramped" or "bu'sted"; or
    I never knew one yet,
When I had plenty in my purse,
    To make the least invasion,--
As I, accordingly perverse,
    Have courted no occasion.
Nor do I claim to comprehend
    What Nature has in view
In giving us the very friend
    To trust we oughtn't to.--
But so it is:  The trusty gun
    Disastrously exploded
Is always sure to be the one
    We didn't think was loaded.
Our moaning is another's mirth,--
    And what is worse by half,
We say the funniest thing on earth
    And never raise a laugh:
'Mid friends that love us over well,
    And sparkling jests and liquor,
Our hearts somehow are liable
    To melt in tears the quicker.
We reach the wrong when most we seek
    The right; in like effect,
We stay the strong and not the weak--
    Do most when we neglect.--
Neglected genius--truth be said--
    As wild and quick as tinder,
The more you seek to help ahead
    The more you seem to hinder.
I've known the least the greatest, too--
    And, on the selfsame plan,
The biggest fool I ever knew
    Was quite a little man:
We find we ought, and then we won't--
    We prove a thing, then doubt it,--
Know EVERYTHING but when we don't
    Know ANYTHING about it.
THE SILENT VICTORS
MAY 30, 1878, 
Dying for victory, cheer on cheer
Thundered on his eager ear.
            --CHARLES L. HOLSTEIN.
Deep, tender, firm and true, the Nation's heart
    Throbs for her gallant heroes passed away,
Who in grim Battle's drama played their part,
    And slumber here to-day.--
Warm hearts that beat their lives out at the shrine
    Of Freedom, while our country held its breath
As brave battalions wheeled themselves in line
    And marched upon their death:
When Freedom's Flag, its natal wounds scarce healed,
    Was torn from peaceful winds and flung again
To shudder in the storm of battle-field--
    The elements of men,--
When every star that glittered was a mark
    For Treason's ball, and every rippling bar
Of red and white was sullied with the dark
    And purple stain of war:
When angry guns, like famished beasts of prey,
    Were howling o'er their gory feast of lives,
And sending dismal echoes far away
    To mothers, maids, and wives:--
The mother, kneeling in the empty night,
    With pleading hands uplifted for the son
Who, even as she prayed, had fought the fight--
    The victory had won:
The wife, with trembling hand that wrote to say
    The babe was waiting for the sire's caress--
The letter meeting that upon the way,--
    The babe was fatherless:
The maiden, with her lips, in fancy, pressed
    Against the brow once dewy with her breath,
Now lying numb, unknown, and uncaressed
    Save by the dews of death.
What meed of tribute can the poet pay
    The Soldier, but to trail the ivy-vine
Of idle rhyme above his grave to-day
    In epitaph design?--
Or wreathe with laurel-words the icy brows
    That ache no longer with a dream of fame,
But, pillowed lowly in the narrow house,
    Renowned beyond the name.
The dewy tear-drops of the night may fall,
    And tender morning with her shining hand
May brush them from the grasses green and tall
    That undulate the land.--
Yet song of Peace nor din of toil and thrift,
    Nor chanted honors, with the flowers we heap,
Can yield us hope the Hero's head to lift
    Out of its dreamless sleep:
The dear old Flag, whose faintest flutter flies
    A stirring echo through each patriot breast,
Can never coax to life the folded eyes
    That saw its wrongs redressed--
That watched it waver when the fight was hot,
    And blazed with newer courage to its aid,
Regardless of the shower of shell and shot
    Through which the charge was made;--
And when, at last, they saw it plume its wings,
    Like some proud bird in stormy element,
And soar untrammeled on its wanderings,
    They closed in death, content.
O Mother, you who miss the smiling face
    Of that dear boy who vanished from your sight,
And left you weeping o'er the vacant place
    He used to fill at night,--
Who left you dazed, bewildered, on a day
    That echoed wild huzzas, and roar of guns
That drowned the farewell words you tried to say
    To incoherent ones;--
Be glad and proud you had the life to give--
    Be comforted through all the years to come,--
Your country has a longer life to live,
    Your son a better home.
O Widow, weeping o'er the orphaned child,
    Who only lifts his questioning eyes to send
A keener pang to grief unreconciled,--
    Teach him to comprehend
He had a father brave enough to stand
    Before the fire of Treason's blazing gun,
That, dying, he might will the rich old land
    Of Freedom to his son.
And, Maiden, living on through lonely years
    In fealty to love's enduring ties,--
With strong faith gleaming through the tender tears
    That gather in your eyes,
Look up! and own, in gratefulness of prayer,
    Submission to the will of Heaven's High Host:--
I see your Angel-soldier pacing there,
    Expectant at his post.--
I see the rank and file of armies vast,
    That muster under one supreme control;
I hear the trumpet sound the signal-blast--
    The calling of the roll--
The grand divisions falling into line
    And forming, under voice of One alone
Who gives command, and joins with tongue divine
    The hymn that shakes the Throne.
And thus, in tribute to the forms that rest
    In their last camping-ground, we strew the bloom
And fragrance of the flowers they loved the best,
    In silence o'er the tomb.
With reverent hands we twine the Hero's wreath
    And clasp it tenderly on stake or stone
That stands the sentinel for each beneath
    Whose glory is our own.
While in the violet that greets the sun,
    We see the azure eye of some lost boy;
And in the rose the ruddy cheek of one
    We kissed in childish joy,--
Recalling, haply, when he marched away,
    He laughed his loudest though his eyes were wet.--
The kiss he gave his mother's brow that day
    Is there and burning yet:
And through the storm of grief around her tossed,
    One ray of saddest comfort she may see,--
Four hundred thousand sons like hers were lost
    To weeping Liberty.
    .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
But draw aside the drapery of gloom,
    And let the sunshine chase the clouds away
And gild with brighter glory every tomb
    We decorate to-day:
And in the holy silence reigning round,
    While prayers of perfume bless the atmosphere,
Where loyal souls of love and faith are found,
    Thank God that Peace is here!
And let each angry impulse that may start,
    Be smothered out of every loyal breast;
And, rocked within the cradle of the heart,
    Let every sorrow rest.
There's a habit I have nurtured,
    From the sentimental time
When my life was like a story,
    And my heart a happy rhyme,--
Of clipping from the paper,
    Or magazine, perhaps,
The idle songs of dreamers,
    Which I treasure as my scraps.
They hide among my letters,
    And they find a cozy nest
In the bosom of my wrapper,
    And the pockets of my vest;
They clamber in my fingers
    Till my dreams of wealth relapse
In fairer dreams than Fortune's
    Though I find them only scraps.
Sometimes I find, in tatters
    Like a beggar, form as fair
As ever gave to Heaven
    The treasure of a prayer;
And words all dim and faded,
    And obliterate in part,
Grow into fadeless meanings
    That are printed on the heart.
Sometimes a childish jingle
    Flings an echo, sweet and clear,
And thrills me as I listen
    To the laughs I used to hear;
And I catch the gleam of faces,
    And the glimmer of glad eyes
That peep at me expectant
    O'er the walls of Paradise.
O syllables of measure!
    Though you wheel yourselves in line,
And await the further order
    Of this eager voice of mine;
You are powerless to follow
    O'er the field my fancy maps,
So I lead you back to silence
    Feeling you are only scraps.
A day of torpor in the sullen heat
    Of Summer's passion:  In the sluggish stream
The panting cattle lave their lazy feet,
    With drowsy eyes, and dream.
Long since the winds have died, and in the sky
    There lives no cloud to hint of Nature's grief;
The sun glares ever like an evil eye,
    And withers flower and leaf.
Upon the gleaming harvest-field remote
    The thresher lies deserted, like some old
Dismantled galleon that hangs afloat
    Upon a sea of gold.
The yearning cry of some bewildered bird
    Above an empty nest, and truant boys
Along the river's shady margin heard--
    A harmony of noise--
A melody of wrangling voices blent
    With liquid laughter, and with rippling calls
Of piping lips and thrilling echoes sent
    To mimic waterfalls.
And through the hazy veil the atmosphere
    Has draped about the gleaming face of Day,
The sifted glances of the sun appear
    In splinterings of spray.
The dusty highway, like a cloud of dawn,
    Trails o'er the hillside, and the passer-by,
A tired ghost in misty shroud, toils on
    His journey to the sky.
And down across the valley's drooping sweep,
    Withdrawn to farthest limit of the glade,
The forest stands in silence, drinking deep
    Its purple wine of shade.
The gossamer floats up on phantom wing;
    The sailor-vision voyages the skies
And carries into chaos everything
    That freights the weary eyes:
Till, throbbing on and on, the pulse of heat
    Increases--reaches--passes fever's height,
And Day sinks into slumber, cool and sweet,
    Within the arms of Night.
DEAD IN SIGHT OF FAME
    DIED--Early morning of September 5, 1876, and
in the gleaming dawn of "name and fame,"
Hamilton J. Dunbar.
Dead!  Dead!  Dead!
    We thought him ours alone;
And were so proud to see him tread
The rounds of fame, and lift his head
    Where sunlight ever shone;
But now our aching eyes are dim,
And look through tears in vain for him.
Name!  Name!  Name!
    It was his diadem;
Nor ever tarnish-taint of shame
Could dim its luster--like a flame
    Reflected in a gem,
He wears it blazing on his brow
Within the courts of Heaven now.
Tears!  Tears!  Tears!
    Like dews upon the leaf
That bursts at last--from out the years
The blossom of a trust appears
    That blooms above the grief;
And mother, brother, wife and child
Will see it and be reconciled.
O In the depths of midnight
    What fancies haunt the brain!
When even the sigh of the sleeper
    Sounds like a sob of pain.
A sense of awe and of wonder
    I may never well define,--
For the thoughts that come in the shadows
    Never come in the shine.
The old clock down in the parlor
    Like a sleepless mourner grieves,
And the seconds drip in the silence
    As the rain drips from the eaves.
And I think of the hands that signal
    The hours there in the gloom,
And wonder what angel watchers
    Wait in the darkened room.
And I think of the smiling faces
    That used to watch and wait,
Till the click of the clock was answered
    By the click of the opening gate.--
They are not there now in the evening--
    Morning or noon--not there;
Yet I know that they keep their vigil,
    And wait for me Somewhere.
THE IRON HORSE
No song is mine of Arab steed--
    My courser is of nobler blood,
And cleaner limb and fleeter speed,
    And greater strength and hardihood
Than ever cantered wild and free
Across the plains of Araby.
Go search the level desert land
From Sana on to Samarcand--
Wherever Persian prince has been,
Or Dervish, Sheik, or Bedouin,
And I defy you there to point
    Me out a steed the half so fine--
From tip of ear to pastern-joint--
    As this old iron horse of mine.
You do not know what beauty is--
    You do not know what gentleness
    His answer is to my caress!--
Why, look upon this gait of his,--
A touch upon his iron rein--
    He moves with such a stately grace
The sunlight on his burnished mane
    Is barely shaken in its place;
    And at a touch he changes pace,
And, gliding backward, stops again.
And talk of mettle--Ah! my friend,
    Such passion smolders in his breast
That when awakened it will send
    A thrill of rapture wilder than
    E'er palpitated heart of man
    When flaming at its mightiest.
And there's a fierceness in his ire--
    A maddened majesty that leaps
Along his veins in blood of fire,
    Until the path his vision sweeps
Spins out behind him like a thread
    Unraveled from the reel of time,
    As, wheeling on his course sublime,
The earth revolves beneath his tread.
Then stretch away, my gallant steed!
    Thy mission is a noble one:
    Thou bear'st the father to the son,
And sweet relief to bitter need;
Thou bear'st the stranger to his friends;
    Thou bear'st the pilgrim to the shrine,
And back again the prayer he sends
    That God will prosper me and mine,--
The star that on thy forehead gleams
Has blossomed in our brightest dreams.
Then speed thee on thy glorious race!
The mother waits thy ringing pace;
The father leans an anxious ear
The thunder of thy hooves to hear;
The lover listens, far away,
To catch thy keen exultant neigh;
And, where thy breathings roll and rise,
The husband strains his eager eyes,
And laugh of wife and baby-glee
Ring out to greet and welcome thee.
Then stretch away! and when at last
    The master's hand shall gently check
Thy mighty speed, and hold thee fast,
    The world will pat thee on the neck.
As though a gipsy maiden with dim look,
    Sat crooning by the roadside of the year,
    So, Autumn, in thy strangeness, thou art here
To read dark fortunes for us from the book
Of fate; thou flingest in the crinkled brook
    The trembling maple's gold, and frosty-clear
    Thy mocking laughter thrills the atmosphere,
And drifting on its current calls the rook
To other lands.  As one who wades, alone,
    Deep in the dusk, and hears the minor talk
Of distant melody, and finds the tone,
    In some wierd way compelling him to stalk
The paths of childhood over,--so I moan,
    And like a troubled sleeper, groping, walk.
The frightened herds of clouds across the sky
    Trample the sunshine down, and chase the day
    Into the dusky forest-lands of gray
And somber twilight.  Far, and faint, and high
The wild goose trails his harrow, with a cry
    Sad as the wail of some poor castaway
    Who sees a vessel drifting far astray
Of his last hope, and lays him down to die.
The children, riotous from school, grow bold
    And quarrel with the wind, whose angry gust
Plucks off the summer hat, and flaps the fold
    Of many a crimson cloak, and twirls the dust
In spiral shapes grotesque, and dims the gold
    Of gleaming tresses with the blur of rust.
Funereal Darkness, drear and desolate,
    Muffles the world.  The moaning of the wind
    Is piteous with sobs of saddest kind;
And laughter is a phantom at the gate
Of memory.  The long-neglected grate
    Within sprouts into flame and lights the mind
    With hopes and wishes long ago refined
To ashes,--long departed friends await
    Our words of welcome: and our lips are dumb
And powerless to greet the ones that press
    Old kisses there.  The baby beats its drum,
And fancy marches to the dear caress
    Of mother-arms, and all the gleeful hum
Of home intrudes upon our loneliness.
OVER THE EYES OF GLADNESS
"The voice of One hath spoken,
    And the bended reed is bruised--
The golden bowl is broken,
    And the silver cord is loosed."
Over the eyes of gladness
    The lids of sorrow fall,
And the light of mirth is darkened
    Under the funeral pall.
The hearts that throbbed with rapture
    In dreams of the future years,
Are wakened from their slumbers,
    And their visions drowned in tears.
    .   .   .   .   .   .   .
Two buds on the bough in the morning--
    Twin buds in the smiling sun,
But the frost of death has fallen
    And blighted the bloom of one.
One leaf of life still folded
    Has fallen from the stem,
Leaving the symbol teaching
    There still are two of them,--
For though--through Time's gradations,
    The LIVING bud may burst,--
The WITHERED one is gathered,
    And blooms in Heaven first.
ONLY A DREAM
Only a dream!
            Her head is bent
Over the keys of the instrument,
While her trembling fingers go astray
In the foolish tune she tries to play.
He smiles in his heart, though his deep, sad eyes
Never change to a glad surprise
As he finds the answer he seeks confessed
In glowing features, and heaving breast.
Only a dream!
            Though the fete is grand,
And a hundred hearts at her command,
She takes no part, for her soul is sick
Of the Coquette's art and the Serpent's trick,--
She someway feels she would like to fling
Her sins away as a robe, and spring
Up like a lily pure and white,
And bloom alone for HIM to-night.
Only a dream
            That the fancy weaves.
The lids unfold like the rose's leaves,
And the upraised eyes are moist and mild
As the prayerful eyes of a drowsy child.
Does she remember the spell they once
Wrought in the past a few short months?
Haply not--yet her lover's eyes
Never change to the glad surprise.
Only a dream!
            He winds her form
Close in the coil of his curving arm,
And whirls her away in a gust of sound
As wild and sweet as the poets found
In the paradise where the silken tent
Of the Persian blooms in the Orient,--
While ever the chords of the music seem
Whispering sadly,--"Only a dream!"
OUR LITTLE GIRL
Her heart knew naught of sorrow,
    Nor the vaguest taint of sin--
'Twas an ever-blooming blossom
    Of the purity within:
And her hands knew only touches
    Of the mother's gentle care,
And the kisses and caresses
    Through the interludes of prayer.
Her baby-feet had journeyed
    Such a little distance here,
They could have found no briers
    In the path to interfere;
The little cross she carried
    Could not weary her, we know,
For it lay as lightly on her
    As a shadow on the snow.
And yet the way before us--
    O how empty now and drear!--
How ev'n the dews of roses
    Seem as dripping tears for her!
And the song-birds all seem crying,
    As the winds cry and the rain,
All sobbingly,--"We want--we want
    Our little girl again!"
THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW
'Twas a Funny Little Fellow
    Of the very purest type,
For he had a heart as mellow
    As an apple over ripe;
And the brightest little twinkle
    When a funny thing occurred,
And the lightest little tinkle
    Of a laugh you ever heard!
His smile was like the glitter
    Of the sun in tropic lands,
And his talk a sweeter twitter
    Than the swallow understands;
Hear him sing--and tell a story--
    Snap a joke--ignite a pun,--
'Twas a capture--rapture--glory,
    An explosion--all in one!
Though he hadn't any money--
    That condiment which tends
To make a fellow "honey"
    For the palate of his friends;--
Sweet simples he compounded--
    Sovereign antidotes for sin
Or taint,--a faith unbounded
    That his friends were genuine.
He wasn't honored, maybe--
    For his songs of praise were slim,--
Yet I never knew a baby
    That wouldn't crow for him;
I never knew a mother
    But urged a kindly claim
Upon him as a brother,
    At the mention of his name.
The sick have ceased their sighing,
    And have even found the grace
Of a smile when they were dying
    As they looked upon his face;
And I've seen his eyes of laughter
    Melt in tears that only ran
As though, swift-dancing after,
    Came the Funny Little Man.
He laughed away the sorrow
    And he laughed away the gloom
We are all so prone to borrow
    From the darkness of the tomb;
And he laughed across the ocean
    Of a happy life, and passed,
With a laugh of glad emotion,
    Into Paradise at last.
And I think the Angels knew him,
    And had gathered to await
His coming, and run to him
    Through the widely opened Gate,
With their faces gleaming sunny
    For his laughter-loving sake,
And thinking, "What a funny
    Little Angel he will make!"
SONG OF THE NEW YEAR
I heard the bells at midnight
    Ring in the dawning year;
And above the clanging chorus
    Of the song, I seemed to hear
A choir of mystic voices
    Flinging echoes, ringing clear,
From a band of angels winging
    Through the haunted atmosphere:
        "Ring out the shame and sorrow,
            And the misery and sin,
        That the dawning of the morrow
            May in peace be ushered in."
And I thought of all the trials
    The departed years had cost,
And the blooming hopes and pleasures
    That are withered now and lost;
And with joy I drank the music
    Stealing o'er the feeling there
As the spirit song came pealing
    On the silence everywhere:
        "Ring out the shame and sorrow,
            And the misery and sin,
        That the dawning of the morrow
            May in peace be ushered in."
And I listened as a lover
    To an utterance that flows
In syllables like dewdrops
    From the red lips of a rose,
Till the anthem, fainter growing,
    Climbing higher, chiming on
Up the rounds of happy rhyming,
    Slowly vanished in the dawn:
        "Ring out the shame and sorrow,
            And the misery and sin,
        That the dawning of the morrow
            May in peace be ushered in."
Then I raised my eyes to Heaven,
    And with trembling lips I pled
For a blessing for the living
    And a pardon for the dead;
And like a ghost of music
    Slowly whispered--lowly sung--
Came the echo pure and holy
    In the happy angel tongue:
        "Ring out the shame and sorrow,
            And the misery and sin,
        And the dawn of every morrow
            Will in peace be ushered in."
A LETTER TO A FRIEND
The past is like a story
    I have listened to in dreams
That vanished in the glory
    Of the Morning's early gleams;
And--at my shadow glancing--
    I feel a loss of strength,
As the Day of Life advancing
    Leaves it shorn of half its length.
But it's all in vain to worry
    At the rapid race of Time--
And he flies in such a flurry
    When I trip him with a rhyme,
I'll bother him no longer
    Than to thank you for the thought
That "my fame is growing stronger
    As you really think it ought."
And though I fall below it,
    I might know as much of mirth
To live and die a poet
    Of unacknowledged worth;
For Fame is but a vagrant--
    Though a loyal one and brave,
And his laurels ne'er so fragrant
    As when scattered o'er the grave.
LINES FOR AN ALBUM
I would not trace the hackneyed phrase
Of shallow words and empty praise,
And prate of "peace" till one might think
My foolish pen was drunk with ink.
Nor will I here the wish express
Of "lasting love and happiness,"
And "cloudless skies"--for after all
"Into each life some rain must fall."
--No.  Keep the empty page below,
In my remembrance, white as snow--
Nor sigh to know the secret prayer
My spirit hand has written there.
When the lids of dusk are falling
    O'er the dreamy eyes of day,
And the whippoorwills are calling,
    And the lesson laid away,--
May Mem'ry soft and tender
    As the prelude of the night,
Bend over you and render
    As tranquil a delight.
Once, in a dream, I saw a man
    With haggard face and tangled hair,
And eyes that nursed as wild a care
    As gaunt Starvation ever can;
And in his hand he held a wand
    Whose magic touch gave life and thought
    Unto a form his fancy wrought
And robed with coloring so grand,
    It seemed the reflex of some child
    Of Heaven, fair and undefiled--
    A face of purity and love--
    To woo him into worlds above:
And as I gazed with dazzled eyes,
    A gleaming smile lit up his lips
    As his bright soul from its eclipse
Went flashing into Paradise.
Then tardy Fame came through the door
And found a picture--nothing more.
And once I saw a man, alone,
    In abject poverty, with hand
Uplifted o'er a block of stone
    That took a shape at his command
And smiled upon him, fair and good--
A perfect work of womanhood,
Save that the eyes might never weep,
Nor weary hands be crossed in sleep,
Nor hair that fell from crown to wrist,
Be brushed away, caressed and kissed.
And as in awe I gazed on her,
    I saw the sculptor's chisel fall--
        I saw him sink, without a moan,
        Sink lifeless at the feet of stone,
And lie there like a worshiper.
    Fame crossed the threshold of the hall,
    And found a statue--that was all.
And once I saw a man who drew
    A gloom about him like a cloak,
And wandered aimlessly.  The few
    Who spoke of him at all, but spoke
Disparagingly of a mind
The Fates had faultily designed:
Too indolent for modern times--
    Too fanciful, and full of whims--
For, talking to himself in rhymes,
    And scrawling never-heard-of hymns,
The idle life to which he clung
Was worthless as the songs he sung!
I saw him, in my vision, filled
    With rapture o'er a spray of bloom
    The wind threw in his lonely room;
And of the sweet perfume it spilled
He drank to drunkenness, and flung
His long hair back, and laughed and sung
And clapped his hands as children do
At fairy tales they listen to,
While from his flying quill there dripped
Such music on his manuscript
That he who listens to the words
May close his eyes and dream the birds
Are twittering on every hand
A language he can understand.
He journeyed on through life, unknown,
Without one friend to call his own;
He tired.  No kindly hand to press
The cooling touch of tenderness
Upon his burning brow, nor lift
To his parched lips God's freest gift--
No sympathetic sob or sigh
Of trembling lips--no sorrowing eye
Looked out through tears to see him die.
And Fame her greenest laurels brought
To crown a head that heeded not.
And this is Fame!  A thing, indeed,
That only comes when least the need:
The wisest minds of every age
The book of life from page to page
Have searched in vain; each lesson conned
Will promise it the page beyond--
Until the last, when dusk of night
Falls over it, and reason's light
Is smothered by that unknown friend
Who signs his nom de plume, The End
AN EMPTY NEST
I find an old deserted nest,
    Half-hidden in the underbrush:
A withered leaf, in phantom jest,
    Has nestled in it like a thrush
With weary, palpitating breast.
I muse as one in sad surprise
    Who seeks his childhood's home once more,
And finds it in a strange disguise
    Of vacant rooms and naked floor,
With sudden tear-drops in his eyes.
An empty nest!  It used to bear
    A happy burden, when the breeze
Of summer rocked it, and a pair
    Of merry tattlers told the trees
What treasures they had hidden there.
But Fancy, flitting through the gleams
    Of youth's sunshiny atmosphere,
Has fallen in the past, and seems,
    Like this poor leaflet nestled here,--
A phantom guest of empty dreams.
MY FATHER'S HALLS
My father's halls, so rich and rare,
Are desolate and bleak and bare;
My father's heart and halls are one,
Since I, their life and light, am gone.
O, valiant knight, with hand of steel
And heart of gold, hear my appeal:
Release me from the spoiler's charms,
And bear me to my father's arms.
THE HARP OF THE MINSTREL
The harp of the minstrel has never a tone
    As sad as the song in his bosom to-night,
For the magical touch of his fingers alone
    Can not waken the echoes that breathe it aright;
But oh! as the smile of the moon may impart
    A sorrow to one in an alien clime,
Let the light of the melody fall on the heart,
    And cadence his grief into musical rhyme.
The faces have faded, the eyes have grown dim
    That once were his passionate love and his pride;
And alas! all the smiles that once blossomed for him
    Have fallen away as the flowers have died.
The hands that entwined him the laureate's wreath
    And crowned him with fame in the long, long ago,
Like the laurels are withered and folded beneath
    The grass and the stubble--the frost and the snow.
Then sigh, if thou wilt, as the whispering strings
    Strive ever in vain for the utterance clear,
And think of the sorrowful spirit that sings,
    And jewel the song with the gem of a tear.
For the harp of the minstrel has never a tone
    As sad as the song in his bosom tonight,
And the magical touch of his fingers alone
    Can not waken the echoes that breathe it aright.
HONEY DRIPPING FROM THE COMB
How slight a thing may set one's fancy drifting
    Upon the dead sea of the Past!--A view--
Sometimes an odor--or a rooster lifting
        A far-off "OOH! OOH-OOH!"
And suddenly we find ourselves astray
    In some wood's-pasture of the Long Ago--
Or idly dream again upon a day
        Of rest we used to know.
I bit an apple but a moment since--
    A wilted apple that the worm had spurned,--
Yet hidden in the taste were happy hints
        Of good old days returned.--
And so my heart, like some enraptured lute,
    Tinkles a tune so tender and complete,
God's blessing must be resting on the fruit--
        So bitter, yet so sweet!
A strange life--strangely passed!
    We may not read the soul
    When God has folded up the scroll
        In death at last.
We may not--dare not say of one
Whose task of life as well was done
As he could do it,--"This is lost,
And prayers may never pay the cost."
Who listens to the song
    That sings within the breast,
    Should ever hear the good expressed
        Above the wrong.
And he who leans an eager ear
To catch the discord, he will hear
The echoes of his own weak heart
Beat out the most discordant part.
Whose tender heart could build
    Affection's bower above
    A heart where baby nests of love
        Were ever filled,--
With upward growth may reach and twine
About the children, grown divine,
That once were his a time so brief
His very joy was more than grief.
O Sorrow--"Peace, be still!"
    God reads the riddle right;
    And we who grope in constant night
        But serve His will;
And when sometime the doubt is gone,
And darkness blossoms into dawn,--
"God keeps the good," we then will say:
" 'Tis but the dross He throws away."
A goddess, with a siren's grace,--
A sun-haired girl on a craggy place
Above a bay where fish-boats lay
Drifting about like birds of prey.
Wrought was she of a painter's dream,--
Wise only as are artists wise,
My artist-friend, Rolf Herschkelhiem,
With deep sad eyes of oversize,
And face of melancholy guise.
I pressed him that he tell to me
This masterpiece's history.
He turned--REturned--and thus beguiled
Me with the tale of Orlie Wilde:--
"We artists live ideally:
We breed our firmest facts of air;
We make our own reality--
We dream a thing and it is so.
The fairest scenes we ever see
Are mirages of memory;
The sweetest thoughts we ever know
We plagiarize from Long Ago:
And as the girl on canvas there
Is marvelously rare and fair,
'Tis only inasmuch as she
Is dumb and may not speak to me!"
He tapped me with his mahlstick--then
The picture,--and went on again:
"Orlie Wilde, the fisher's child--
I see her yet, as fair and mild
As ever nursling summer day
Dreamed on the bosom of the bay:
For I was twenty then, and went
Alone and long-haired--all content
With promises of sounding name
And fantasies of future fame,
And thoughts that now my mind discards
As editor a fledgling bard's.
"At evening once I chanced to go,
With pencil and portfolio,
Adown the street of silver sand
That winds beneath this craggy land,
To make a sketch of some old scurf
Of driftage, nosing through the surf
A splintered mast, with knarl and strand
Of rigging-rope and tattered threads
Of flag and streamer and of sail
That fluttered idly in the gale
Or whipped themselves to sadder shreds.
The while I wrought, half listlessly,
On my dismantled subject, came
A sea-bird, settling on the same
With plaintive moan, as though that he
Had lost his mate upon the sea;
And--with my melancholy trend--
It brought dim dreams half understood--
It wrought upon my morbid mood,--
I thought of my own voyagings
That had no end--that have no end.--
And, like the sea-bird, I made moan
That I was loveless and alone.
And when at last with weary wings
It went upon its wanderings,
With upturned face I watched its flight
Until this picture met my sight:
A goddess, with a siren's grace,--
A sun-haired girl on a craggy place
Above a bay where fish-boats lay
Drifting about like birds of prey.
"In airy poise she, gazing, stood
A machless form of womanhood,
That brought a thought that if for me
Such eyes had sought across the sea,
I could have swum the widest tide
That ever mariner defied,
And, at the shore, could on have gone
To that high crag she stood upon,
To there entreat and say, 'My Sweet,
Behold thy servant at thy feet.'
And to my soul I said:  'Above,
There stands the idol of thy love!'
"In this rapt, awed, ecstatic state
I gazed--till lo! I was aware
A fisherman had joined her there--
A weary man, with halting gait,
Who toiled beneath a basket's weight:
Her father, as I guessed, for she
Had run to meet him gleefully
And ta'en his burden to herself,
That perched upon her shoulder's shelf
So lightly that she, tripping, neared
A jutting crag and disappeared;
But she left the echo of a song
That thrills me yet, and will as long
As I have being! . . .
            . . . "Evenings came
And went,--but each the same--the same:
She watched above, and even so
I stood there watching from below;
Till, grown so bold at last, I sung,--
(What matter now the theme thereof!)--
It brought an answer from her tongue--
Faint as the murmur of a dove,
Yet all the more the song of love. . . .
"I turned and looked upon the bay,
With palm to forehead--eyes a-blur
In the sea's smile--meant but for her!--
I saw the fish-boats far away
In misty distance, lightly drawn
In chalk-dots on the horizon--
Looked back at her, long, wistfully;--
And, pushing off an empty skiff,
I beckoned her to quit the cliff
And yield me her rare company
Upon a little pleasure-cruise.--
She stood, as loathful to refuse,
To muse for full a moment's time,--
Then answered back in pantomime
'She feared some danger from the sea
Were she discovered thus with me.'
I motioned then to ask her if
I might not join her on the cliff
And back again, with graceful wave
Of lifted arm, she anwer gave
'She feared some danger from the sea.'
"Impatient, piqued, impetuous, I
Sprang in the boat, and flung 'Good-by'
From pouted mouth with angry hand,
And madly pulled away from land
With lusty stroke, despite that she
Held out her hands entreatingly:
And when far out, with covert eye
I shoreward glanced, I saw her fly
In reckless haste adown the crag,
Her hair a-flutter like a flag
Of gold that danced across the strand
In little mists of silver sand.
All curious I, pausing, tried
To fancy what it all implied,--
When suddenly I found my feet
Were wet; and, underneath the seat
On which I sat, I heard the sound
Of gurgling waters, and I found
The boat aleak alarmingly. . . .
I turned and looked upon the sea,
Whose every wave seemed mocking me;
I saw the fishers' sails once more--
In dimmer distance than before;
I saw the sea-bird wheeling by,
With foolish wish that _I_ could fly:
I thought of firm earth, home and friends--
I thought of everything that tends
To drive a man to frenzy and
To wholly lose his own command;
I thought of all my waywardness--
Thought of a mother's deep distress;
Of youthful follies yet unpurged--
Sins, as the seas, about me surged--
Thought of the printer's ready pen
To-morrow drowning me again;--
A million things without a name--
I thought of everything but--Fame. . . .
"A memory yet is in my mind,
So keenly clear and sharp-defined,
I picture every phase and line
Of life and death, and neither mine,--
While some fair seraph, golden-haired,
Bends over me,--with white arms bared,
That strongly plait themselves about
My drowning weight and lift me out--
With joy too great for words to state
Or tongue to dare articulate!
"And this seraphic ocean-child
And heroine was Orlie Wilde:
And thus it was I came to hear
Her voice's music in my ear--
Ay, thus it was Fate paved the way
That I walk desolate to-day!" . . .
The artist paused and bowed his face
Within his palms a little space,
While reverently on his form
I bent my gaze and marked a storm
That shook his frame as wrathfully
As some typhoon of agony,
And fraught with sobs--the more profound
For that peculiar laughing sound
We hear when strong men weep. . . .  I leant
With warmest sympathy--I bent
To stroke with soothing hand his brow,
He murmuring--"Tis over now!--
And shall I tie the silken thread
Of my frail romance?"  "Yes," I said.--
He faintly smiled; and then, with brow
In kneading palm, as one in dread--
His tasseled cap pushed from his head
" 'Her voice's music,' I repeat,"
He said,--" 'twas sweet--O passing sweet!--
Though she herself, in uttering
Its melody, proved not the thing
Of loveliness my dreams made meet
For me--there, yearning, at her feet--
Prone at her feet--a worshiper,--
For lo! she spake a tongue," moaned he,
"Unknown to me;--unknown to me
As mine to her--as mine to her."
THAT OTHER MAUD MULLER
Maud Muller worked at making hay,
And cleared her forty cents a day.
Her clothes were coarse, but her health was fine,
And so she worked in the sweet sunshine
Singing as glad as a bird in May
"Barbara Allen" the livelong day.
She often glanced at the far-off town,
And wondered if eggs were up or down.
And the sweet song died of a strange disease,
Leaving a phantom taste of cheese,
And an appetite and a nameless ache
For soda-water and ginger cake.
The judge rode slowly into view--
Stopped his horse in the shade and threw
His fine-cut out, while the blushing Maud
Marveled much at the kind he "chawed."
"He was dry as a fish," he said with a wink,
"And kind o' thought that a good square drink
Would brace him up."  So the cup was filled
With the crystal wine that old spring spilled;
And she gave it him with a sun-browned hand.
"Thanks," said the judge in accents bland;
"A thousand thanks! for a sweeter draught,
From a fairer hand"--but there he laughed.
And the sweet girl stood in the sun that day,
And raked the judge instead of the hay.
A MAN OF MANY PARTS
It was a man of many parts,
    Who in his coffer mind
Had stored the Classics and the Arts
    And Sciences combined;
The purest gems of poesy
    Came flashing from his pen--
The wholesome truths of History
    He gave his fellow men.
He knew the stars from "Dog" to Mars;
    And he could tell you, too,
Their distances--as though the cars
    Had often checked him through--
And time 'twould take to reach the sun,
    Or by the "Milky Way,"
Drop in upon the moon, or run
    The homeward trip, or stay.
With Logic at his fingers' ends,
    Theology in mind,
He often entertained his friends
    Until they died resigned;
And with inquiring mind intent
    Upon Alchemic arts
A dynamite experiment--
    .   .   .   .   .   .   .
    A man of many parts!
Who am I but the Frog--the Frog!
    My realm is the dark bayou,
And my throne is the muddy and moss-grown log
    That the poison-vine clings to--
And the blacksnakes slide in the slimy tide
    Where the ghost of the moon looks blue.
What am I but a King--a King!--
    For the royal robes I wear--
A scepter, too, and a signet-ring,
    As vassals and serfs declare:
And a voice, god wot, that is equaled not
    In the wide world anywhere!
I can talk to the Night--the Night!--
    Under her big black wing
She tells me the tale of the world outright,
    And the secret of everything;
For she knows you all, from the time you crawl,
    To the doom that death will bring.
The Storm swoops down, and he blows--and blows,--
    While I drum on his swollen cheek,
And croak in his angered eye that glows
    With the lurid lightning's streak;
While the rushes drown in the watery frown
    That his bursting passions leak.
And I can see through the sky--the sky--
    As clear as a piece of glass;
And I can tell you the how and why
    Of the things that come to pass--
And whether the dead are there instead,
    Or under the graveyard grass.
To your Sovereign lord all hail--all hail!--
    To your Prince on his throne so grim!
Let the moon swing low, and the high stars trail
    Their heads in the dust to him;
And the wide world sing:  Long live the King,
    And grace to his royal whim!
How many of my selves are dead?
    The ghosts of many haunt me: Lo,
The baby in the tiny bed
With rockers on, is blanketed
    And sleeping in the long ago;
And so I ask, with shaking head,
How many of my selves are dead?
A little face with drowsy eyes
    And lisping lips comes mistily
From out the faded past, and tries
The prayers a mother breathed with sighs
    Of anxious care in teaching me;
But face and form and prayers have fled--
How many of my selves are dead?
The little naked feet that slipped
    In truant paths, and led the way
Through dead'ning pasture-lands, and tripped
O'er tangled poison-vines, and dipped
    In streams forbidden--where are they?
In vain I listen for their tread--
How many of my selves are dead?
The awkward boy the teacher caught
    Inditing letters filled with love,
Who was compelled, for all he fought,
To read aloud each tender thought
    Of "Sugar Lump" and "Turtle Dove."
I wonder where he hides his head--
How many of my selves are dead?
The earnest features of a youth
    With manly fringe on lip and chin,
With eager tongue to tell the truth,
To offer love and life, forsooth,
    So brave was he to woo and win;
A prouder man was never wed--
How many of my selves are dead?
The great, strong hands so all-inclined
    To welcome toil, or smooth the care
From mother-brows, or quick to find
A leisure-scrap of any kind,
    To toss the baby in the air,
Or clap at babbling things it said--
How many of my selves are dead?
The pact of brawn and scheming brain--
    Conspiring in the plots of wealth,
Still delving, till the lengthened chain,
Unwindlassed in the mines of gain,
    Recoils with dregs of ruined health
And pain and poverty instead--
How many of my selves are dead?
The faltering step, the faded hair--
    Head, heart and soul, all echoing
With maundering fancies that declare
That life and love were never there,
    Nor ever joy in anything,
Nor wounded heart that ever bled--
How many of my selves are dead?
So many of my selves are dead,
    That, bending here above the brink
Of my last grave, with dizzy head,
I find my spirit comforted,
    For all the idle things I think:
It can but be a peaceful bed,
Since all my other selves are dead.
A DREAM OF LONG AGO
Lying listless in the mosses
Underneath a tree that tosses
Flakes of sunshine, and embosses
    Its green shadow with the snow--
Drowsy-eyed, I sink in slumber
Born of fancies without number--
Tangled fancies that encumber
    Me with dreams of long ago.
Ripples of the river singing;
And the water-lilies swinging
Bells of Parian, and ringing
    Peals of perfume faint and fine,
While old forms and fairy faces
Leap from out their hiding-places
In the past, with glad embraces
    Fraught with kisses sweet as wine.
Willows dip their slender fingers
O'er the little fisher's stringers,
While he baits his hook and lingers
    Till the shadows gather dim;
And afar off comes a calling
Like the sounds of water falling,
With the lazy echoes drawling
    Messages of haste to him.
Little naked feet that tinkle
Through the stubble-fields, and twinkle
Down the winding road, and sprinkle
    Little mists of dusty rain,
While in pasture-lands the cattle
Cease their grazing with a rattle
Of the bells whose clappers tattle
    To their masters down the lane.
Trees that hold their tempting treasures
O'er the orchard's hedge embrasures,
Furnish their forbidden pleasures
    As in Eden lands of old;
And the coming of the master
Indicates a like disaster
To the frightened heart that faster
    Beats pulsations manifold.
Puckered lips whose pipings tingle
In staccato notes that mingle
Musically with the jingle-
    Haunted winds that lightly fan
Mellow twilights, crimson-tinted
By the sun, and picture-printed
Like a book that sweetly hinted
    Of the Nights Arabian.
Porticoes with columns plaited
And entwined with vines and freighted
With a bloom all radiated
    With the light of moon and star;
Where some tender voice is winging
In sad flights of song, and singing
To the dancing fingers flinging
    Dripping from the sweet guitar.
Would my dreams were never taken
From me: that with faith unshaken
I might sleep and never waken
    On a weary world of woe!
Links of love would never sever
As I dreamed them, never, never!
I would glide along forever
    Through the dreams of long ago.
The Crankadox leaned o'er the edge of the moon
    And wistfully gazed on the sea
Where the Gryxabodill madly whistled a tune
    To the air of "Ti-fol-de-ding-dee."
The quavering shriek of the Fly-up-the-creek
    Was fitfully wafted afar
To the Queen of the Wunks as she powdered her cheek
    With the pulverized rays of a star.
The Gool closed his ear on the voice of the Grig,
    And his heart it grew heavy as lead
As he marked the Baldekin adjusting his wing
    On the opposite side of his head,
And the air it grew chill as the Gryxabodill
    Raised his dank, dripping fins to the skies,
And plead with the Plunk for the use of her bill
    To pick the tears out of his eyes.
The ghost of the Zhack flitted by in a trance,
    And the Squidjum hid under a tub
As he heard the loud hooves of the Hooken advance
    With a rub-a-dub--dub-a-dub--dub!
And the Crankadox cried, as he lay down and died,
    "My fate there is none to bewail,"
While the Queen of the Wunks drifted over the tide
    With a long piece of crape to her tail.
Queenly month of indolent repose!
    I drink thy breath in sips of rare perfume,
    As in thy downy lap of clover-bloom
I nestle like a drowsy child and doze
The lazy hours away.  The zephyr throws
    The shifting shuttle of the Summer's loom
    And weaves a damask-work of gleam and gloom
Before thy listless feet.  The lily blows
A bugle-call of fragrance o'er the glade;
    And, wheeling into ranks, with plume and spear,
Thy harvest-armies gather on parade;
    While, faint and far away, yet pure and clear,
A voice calls out of alien lands of shade:--
    All hail the Peerless Goddess of the Year!
WASH LOWRY'S REMINISCENCE
And you're the poet of this concern?
    I've seed your name in print
A dozen times, but I'll be dern
    I'd 'a' never 'a' took the hint
O' the size you are--fer I'd pictured you
    A kind of a tallish man--
Dark-complected and sallor too,
    And on the consumpted plan.
'Stid o' that you're little and small,
    With a milk-and-water face--
'Thout no snap in your eyes at all,
    Er nothin' to suit the case!
Kind o'look like a--I don't know--
    One o' these fair-ground chaps
That runs a thingamajig to blow,
    Er a candy-stand perhaps.
'Ll I've allus thought that poetry
    Was a sort of a--some disease--
Fer I knowed a poet once, and he
    Was techy and hard to please,
And moody-like, and kindo' sad
    And didn't seem to mix
With other folks--like his health was bad,
    Er his liver out o' fix.
Used to teach fer a livelihood--
    There's folks in Pipe Crick yit
Remembers him--and he was good
    At cipherin' I'll admit--
And posted up in G'ography
    But when it comes to tact,
And gittin' along with the school, you see,
    He fizzled, and that's a fact!
Boarded with us fer fourteen months
    And in all that time I'll say
We never catched him a-sleepin' once
    Er idle a single day.
But shucks!  It made him worse and worse
    A-writin' rhymes and stuff,
And the school committee used to furse
    'At the school warn't good enough.
He warn't as strict as he ought to been,
    And never was known to whip,
Or even to keep a scholard in
    At work at his penmanship;
'Stid o' that he'd learn 'em notes,
    And have 'em every day,
Spilin' hymns and a-splittin' th'oats
    With his "Do-sol-fa-me-ra!"
Tel finally it was jest agreed
    We'd have to let him go,
And we all felt bad--we did indeed,
    When we come to tell him so;
Fer I remember, he turned so white,
    And smiled so sad, somehow,
I someway felt it wasn't right,
    And I'm shore it wasn't now!
He hadn't no complaints at all--
    He bid the school adieu,
And all o' the scholards great and small
    Was mighty sorry too!
And when he closed that afternoon
    They sung some lines that he
Had writ a purpose, to some old tune
    That suited the case, you see.
And then he lingered and delayed
    And wouldn't go away--
And shet himself in his room and stayed
    A-writin' from day to day;
And kep' a-gittin' stranger still,
    And thinner all the time,
You know, as any feller will
    On nothin' else but rhyme.
He didn't seem adzactly right,
    Er like he was crossed in love,
He'd work away night after night,
    And walk the floor above;
We'd hear him read and talk, and sing
    So lonesome-like and low,
My woman's cried like ever'thing--
    'Way in the night, you know.
And when at last he tuck to bed
    He'd have his ink and pen;
"So's he could coat the muse" he said,
    "He'd die contented then";
And jest before he past away
    He read with dyin' gaze
The epitaph that stands to-day
    To show you where he lays.
And ever sence then I've allus thought
    That poetry's some disease,
And them like you that's got it ought
    To watch their q's and p's ;
And leave the sweets of rhyme, to sup
    On the wholesome draughts of toil,
And git your health recruited up
    By plowin' in rougher soil.
THE ANCIENT PRINTERMAN
"O Printerman of sallow face,
    And look of absent  guile,
Is it the 'copy' on your 'case'
    That causes you to smile?
Or is it some old treasure scrap
    You cull from Memory's file?
"I fain would guess its mystery--
    For often I can trace
A fellow dreamer's history
    Whene'er it haunts the face;
Your fancy's running riot
    In a retrospective race!
"Ah, Printerman, you're straying
    Afar from 'stick' and type--
Your heart has 'gone a-maying,'
    And you taste old kisses, ripe
Again on lips that pucker
    At your old asthmatic pipe!
"You are dreaming of old pleasures
    That have faded from your view;
And the music-burdened measures
    Of the laughs you listen to
Are now but angel-echoes--
    O, have I spoken true?"
The ancient Printer hinted
    With a motion full of grace
To where the words were printed
    On a card above his "case,"--
"I am deaf and dumb!" I left him
    With a smile upon his face.
PRIOR TO MISS BELLE'S APPEARANCE
What makes you come HERE fer, Mister,
    So much to our house?--SAY?
Come to see our big sister!--
An' Charley he says 'at you kissed her
    An' he ketched you, th'uther day!--
Didn' you, Charley?--But we p'omised Belle
An' crossed our heart to never to tell--
'Cause SHE gived us some o' them-er
Chawk'lut-drops 'at you bringed to her!
Charley he's my little b'uther--
    An' we has a-mostest fun,
Don't we, Charley?--Our Muther,
Whenever we whips one anuther,
    Tries to whip US--an' we RUN--
Don't we, Charley?--An' nen, bime-by,
Nen she gives us cake--an' pie--
Don't she, Charley?--when we come in
An' pomise never to do it ag'in!
HE'S named Charley.--I'm WILLIE--
    An' I'm got the purtiest name!
But Uncle Bob HE calls me "Billy"--
Don't he, Charley?--'N' our filly
    We named "Billy," the same
Ist like me!  An' our Ma said
'At "Bob puts foolishnuss into our head!"--
Didn' she, Charley?--An' SHE don't know
Much about BOYS!--'Cause Bob said so!
Baby's a funniest feller!
    Nain't no hair on his head--
IS they, Charley?--It's meller
Wite up there!  An' ef Belle er
    Us ask wuz WE that way, Ma said,--
"Yes; an' yer PA'S head wuz soft as that,
An' it's that way yet!"--An' Pa grabs his hat
An' says, "Yes, childern, she's right about Pa--
'Cause that's the reason he married yer Ma!"
An' our Ma says 'at "Belle couldn'
    Ketch nothin' at all but ist 'BOWS!"--
An' PA says 'at "you're soft as puddun!"--
An' UNCLE BOB says "you're a good-un--
    'Cause he can tell by yer nose!"-
Didn' he, Charley?--An' when Belle'll play
In the poller on th' pianer, some day,
Bob makes up funny songs about you,
Till she gits mad-like he wants her to!
Our sister FANNY she's 'LEVEN
    Years old!  'At's mucher 'an _I_--
Ain't it, Charley? . . .  I'm seven!--
But our sister Fanny's in HEAVEN!
    Nere's where you go ef you die!--
Don't you, Charley?--Nen you has WINGS--
IST LIKE FANNY!--an' PURTIEST THINGS!--
Don't you, Charley?--An' nen you can FLY--
Ist fly-an' EVER'thing! . . . I Wisht I'D die!
WHEN MOTHER COMBED MY HAIR
When Memory, with gentle hand,
Has led me to that foreign land
Of childhood days, I long to be
Again the boy on bended knee,
With head a-bow, and drowsy smile
Hid in a mother's lap the while,
With tender touch and kindly care,
She bends above and combs my hair.
Ere threats of Time, or ghosts of cares
Had paled it to the hue it wears,
Its tangled threads of amber light
Fell o'er a forehead, fair and white,
That only knew the light caress
Of loving hands, or sudden press
Of kisses that were sifted there
The times when mother combed my hair.
But its last gleams of gold have slipped
Away; and Sorrow's manuscript
Is fashioned of the snowy brow--
So lined and underscored now
That you, to see it, scarce would guess
It e'er had felt the fond caress
Of loving lips, or known the care
Of those dear hands that combed my hair.
.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
I am so tired!  Let me be
A moment at my mother's knee;
One moment--that I may forget
The trials waiting for me yet:
One moment free from every pain--
O!  Mother!  Comb my hair again!
And I will, oh, so humbly bow,
For I've a wife that combs it now.
A WRANGDILLION
Dexery-tethery! down in the dike,
    Under the ooze and the slime,
Nestles the wraith of a reticent Gryke,
    Blubbering bubbles of rhyme:
Though the reeds touch him and tickle his teeth--
    Though the Graigroll and the Cheest
Pluck at the leaves of his laureate-wreath,
    Nothing affects him the least.
He sinks to the dregs in the dead o' the night,
    And he shuffles the shadows about
As he gathers the stars in a nest of delight
    And sets there and hatches them out:
The Zhederrill peers from his watery mine
    In scorn with the Will-o'-the-wisp,
As he twinkles his eyes in a whisper of shine
    That ends in a luminous lisp.
The Morning is born like a baby of gold,
    And it lies in a spasm of pink,
And rallies the Cheest for the horrible cold
    He has dragged to the willowy brink,
The Gryke blots his tears with a scrap of his grief,
    And growls at the wary Graigroll
As he twunkers a tune on a Tiljicum leaf
    And hums like a telegraph pole.
GEORGE MULLEN'S CONFESSION
For the sake of guilty conscience, and the heart that ticks the
Of the clockworks of my nature, I desire to say that I'm
A weak and sinful creature, as regards my daily walk
The last five years and better.  It ain't worth while to talk--
I've been too mean to tell it!  I've been so hard, you see,
And full of pride, and--onry--now there's the word for me--
Just onry--and to show you, I'll give my history
With vital points in question, and I think you'll all agree.
I was always stiff and stubborn since I could recollect,
And had an awful temper, and never would reflect;
And always into trouble--I remember once at school
The teacher tried to flog me, and I reversed that rule.
O I was bad I tell you!  And it's a funny move
That a fellow wild as I was could ever fall in love;
And it's a funny notion that an animal like me,
Under a girl's weak fingers was as tame as tame could be!
But it's so, and sets me thinking of the easy way she had
Of cooling down my temper--though I'd be fighting mad.
"My Lion Queen" I called her--when a spell of mine occurred
She'd come in a den of feelings and quell them with a word.
I'll tell you how she loved me--and what her people thought:
When I asked to marry Annie they said "they reckoned not--
That I cut too many didoes and monkey-shines to suit
Their idea of a son-in-law, and I could go, to boot!"
I tell you that thing riled me!  Why, I felt my face turn white,
And my teeth shut like a steel trap, and the fingers of my right
Hand pained me with their pressure--all the rest's a mystery
Till I heard my Annie saying--"I'm going, too, you see."
We were coming through the gateway, and she wavered for a spell
When she heard her mother crying and her raving father yell
That she wa'n't no child of his'n--like an actor in a play
We saw at Independence, coming through the other day.
Well! that's the way we started.  And for days and weeks and
And even years we journeyed on, regretting never once
Of starting out together upon the path of life--
Akind o' sort o' husband, but a mighty loving wife,--
And the cutest little baby--little Grace--I see her now
A-standin' on the pig-pen as her mother milked the cow--
And I can hear her shouting--as I stood unloading straw,--
"I'm ain't as big as papa, but I'm biggerest'n ma."
Now folks that never married don't seem to understand
That a little baby's language is the sweetest ever planned--
Why, I tell you it's pure music, and I'll just go on to say
That I sometimes have a notion that the angels talk that way!
There's a chapter in this story I'd be happy to destroy;
I could burn it up before you with a mighty sight of joy;
But I'll go ahead and give it--not in detail, no, my friend,
For it takes five years of reading before you find the end.
My Annie's folks relented--at least, in some degree;
They sent one time for Annie, but they didn't send for me.
The old man wrote the message with a heart as hot and dry
As a furnace--"Annie Mullen, come and see your mother die."
I saw the slur intended--why I fancied I could see
The old man shoot the insult like a poison dart at me;
And in that heat of passion I swore an inward oath
That if Annie pleased her father she could never please us both.
I watched her--dark and sullen--as she hurried on her shawl;
I watched her--calm and cruel, though I saw her tear-drops fall;
I watched her--cold and heartless, though I heard her moaning,
For mercy from high Heaven--and I smiled throughout it all.
Why even when she kissed me, and her tears were on my brow,
As she murmured, "George, forgive me--I must go to mother now!"
Such hate there was within me that I answered not at all,
But calm, and cold and cruel, I smiled throughout it all.
But a shadow in the doorway caught my eye, and then the face
Full of innocence and sunshine of little baby Grace.
And I snatched her up and kissed her, and I softened through and
For a minute when she told me "I must kiss her muvver too."
I remember, at the starting, how I tried to freeze again
As I watched them slowly driving down the little crooked lane--
When Annie shouted something that ended in a cry,
And how I tried to whistle and it fizzled in a sigh.
I remember running after, with a glimmer in my sight--
Pretending I'd discovered that the traces wasn't right;
And the last that I remember, as they disappeared from view,
Was little Grace a-calling, "I see papa!  Howdy-do!"
And left alone to ponder, I again took up my hate
For the old man who would chuckle that I was desolate;
And I mouthed my wrongs in mutters till my pride called up the
His last insult had given me--until I smiled again
Till the wild beast in my nature was raging in the den--
With no one now to quell it, and I wrote a letter then
Full of hissing things, and heated with so hot a heat of hate
That my pen flashed out black lightning at a most terrific rate.
I wrote that "she had wronged me when she went away from me--
Though to see her dying mother 'twas her father's victory,
And a woman that could waver when her husband's pride was rent
Was no longer worthy of it."  And I shut the house and went.
To tell of my long exile would be of little good--
Though I couldn't half-way tell it, and I wouldn't if I could!
I could tell of California--of a wild and vicious life;
Of trackless plains, and mountains, and the Indian's
scalping-knife.
I could tell of gloomy forests howling wild with threats of
I could tell of fiery deserts that have scorched me with their
I could tell of wretched outcasts by the hundreds, great and
And could claim the nasty honor of the greatest of them all.
I could tell of toil and hardship; and of sickness and disease,
And hollow-eyed starvation, but I tell you, friend, that these
Are trifles in comparison with what a fellow feels
With that bloodhound, Remorsefulness, forever at his heels.
I remember--worn and weary of the long, long years of care,
When the frost of time was making early harvest of my hair--
I remember, wrecked and hopeless of a rest beneath the sky,
My resolve to quit the country, and to seek the East, and die.
I remember my long journey, like a dull, oppressive dream,
Across the empty prairies till I caught the distant gleam
Of a city in the beauty of its broad and shining stream
On whose bosom, flocked together, float the mighty swans of
I remember drifting with them till I found myself again
In the rush and roar and rattle of the engine and the train;
And when from my surroundings something spoke of child and wife,
It seemed the train was rumbling through a tunnel in my life.
Then I remember something--like a sudden burst of light--
That don't exactly tell it, but I couldn't tell it right--
A something clinging to me with its arms around my neck--
A little girl, for instance--or an angel, I expect--
For she kissed me, cried and called me "her dear papa," and I
My heart was pure virgin gold, and just about to melt--
And so it did--it melted in a mist of gleaming rain
When she took my hand and whispered, "My mama's on the train."
There's some things I can dwell on, and get off pretty well,
But the balance of this story I know I couldn't tell;
So I ain't going to try it, for to tell the reason why--
I'm so chicken-hearted lately I'd be certain 'most to cry.
"tired out!"  Yet face and brow
Do not look aweary now,
And the eyelids lie like two
Pure, white rose-leaves washed with dew.
Was her life so hard a task?--
Strange that we forget to ask
What the lips now dumb for aye
Could have told us yesterday!
"Tired out!"  A faded scrawl
Pinned upon the ragged shawl--
Nothing else to leave a clue
Even of a friend or two,
Who might come to fold the hands,
Or smooth back the dripping strands
Of her tresses, or to wet
Them anew with fond regret.
"Tired out!"  We can but guess
Of her little happiness--
Long ago, in some fair land,
When a lover held her hand
In the dream that frees us all,
Soon or later, from its thrall--
Be it either false or true,
We, at last, must tire, too.
Fold the little waxen hands
Lightly.  Let your warmest tears
Speak regrets, but never fears,--
    Heaven understands!
Let the sad heart, o'er the tomb,
Lift again and burst in bloom
Fragrant with a prayer as sweet
As the lily at your feet.
Bend and kiss the folded eyes--
They are only feigning sleep
While their truant glances peep
    Into Paradise.
See, the face, though cold and white,
Holds a hint of some delight
E'en with Death, whose finger-tips
Rest upon the frozen lips.
When, within the years to come,
Vanished echoes live once more--
Pattering footsteps on the floor,
    And the sounds of home,--
Let your arms in fancy fold
Little Harlie as of old--
As of old and as he waits
At the City's golden gates.
SAY SOMETHING TO ME
Say something to me!  I've waited so long--
    Waited and wondered in vain;
Only a sentence would fall like a song
    Over this listening pain--
Over a silence that glowers and frowns,--
    Even my pencil to-night
Slips in the dews of my sorrow and wounds
    Each tender word that I write.
Say something to me--if only to tell
    Me you remember the past;
Let the sweet words, like the notes of a bell,
    Ring out my vigil at last.
O it were better, far better than this
    Doubt and distrust in the breast,--
For in the wine of a fanciful kiss
    I could taste Heaven, and--rest.
Say something to me!  I kneel and I plead,
    In my wild need, for a word;
If my poor heart from this silence were freed,
    I could soar up like a bird
In the glad morning, and twitter and sing,
    Carol and warble and cry
Blithe as the lark as he cruises awing
    Over the deeps of the sky.
Leonainie--Angels named her;
    And they took the light
Of the laughing stars and framed her
    In a smile of white;
        And they made her hair of gloomy
        Midnight, and her eyes of bloomy
        Moonshine, and they brought her to me
    In the solemn night.--
In a solemn night of summer,
    When my heart of gloom
Blossomed up to greet the comer
    Like a rose in bloom;
        All forebodings that distressed me
        I forgot as Joy caressed me--
        (LYING Joy! that caught and pressed me
    In the arms of doom!)
Only spake the little lisper
    In the Angel-tongue;
Yet I, listening, heard her whisper,--
    "Songs are only sung
        Here below that they may grieve you--
        Tales but told you to deceive you,--
        So must Leonainie leave you
    While her love is young."
Then God smiled and it was morning.
    Matchless and supreme
Heaven's glory seemed adorning
    Earth with its esteem:
        Every heart but mine seemed gifted
        With the voice of prayer, and lifted
        Where my Leonainie drifted
    From me like a dream.
A TEST OF LOVE
"Now who shall say he loves me not."
He wooed her first in an atmosphere
    Of tender and low-breathed sighs;
But the pang of her laugh went cutting clear
    To the soul of the enterprise;
"You beg so pert for the kiss you seek
    It reminds me, John," she said,
"Of a poodle pet that jumps to 'speak'
    For a crumb or a crust of bread."
And flashing up, with the blush that flushed
    His face like a tableau-light,
Came a bitter threat that his white lips hushed
    To a chill, hoarse-voiced "Good night!"
And again her laugh, like a knell that tolled,
    And a wide-eyed mock surprise,--
"Why, John," she said, "you have taken cold
    In the chill air of your sighs!"
And then he turned, and with teeth tight clenched,
    He told her he hated her,--
That his love for her from his heart he wrenched
    Like a corpse from a sepulcher.
And then she called him "a ghoul all red
    With the quintessence of crimes"--
"But I know you love me now," she said,
    And kissed him a hundred times.
FATHER WILLIAM
A NEW VERSION BY LEE O. HARRIS AND JAMES
WHITCOMB RILEY
"You are old, Father William, and though one would think
    All the veins in your body were dry,
Yet the end of your nose is red as a pink;
    I beg your indulgence, but why?"
"You see," Father William replied, "in my youth--
    'Tis a thing I must ever regret--
It worried me so to keep up with the truth
    That my nose has a flush on it yet."
"You are old," said the youth, "and I grieve to detect
    A feverish gleam in your eye;
Yet I'm willing to give you full time to reflect.
    Now, pray, can you answer me why?"
"Alas," said the sage, "I was tempted to choose
    Me a wife in my earlier years,
And the grief, when I think that she didn't refuse,
    Has reddened my eyelids with tears."
"You are old, Father William," the young man said,
    "And you never touch wine, you declare,
Yet you sleep with your feet at the head of the bed;
    Now answer me that if you dare."
"In my youth," said the sage, "I was told it was true,
    That the world turned around in the night;
I cherished the lesson, my boy, and I knew
    That at morning my feet would be right."
"You are old," said the youth, "and it grieved me to note,
    As you recently fell through the door,
That 'full as a goose' had been chalked on your coat;
    Now answer me that I implore."
"My boy," said the sage, "I have answered you fair,
    While you stuck to the point in dispute,
But this is a personal matter, and there
    Is my answer--the toe of my boot."
WHAT THE WIND SAID
'I muse to-day, in a listless way,
    In the gleam of a summer land;
I close my eyes as a lover may
    At the touch of his sweetheart's hand,
And I hear these things in the whisperings
    Of the zephyrs round me fanned':--
I am the Wind, and I rule mankind,
    And I hold a sovereign reign
Over the lands, as God designed,
    And the waters they contain:
Lo! the bound of the wide world round
    Falleth in my domain!
I was born on a stormy morn
    In a kingdom walled with snow,
Whose crystal cities laugh to scorn
    The proudest the world can show;
And the daylight's glare is frozen there
    In the breath of the blasts that blow.
Life to me was a jubilee
    From the first of my youthful days:
Clinking my icy toys with glee--
    Playing my childish plays;
Filling my hands with the silver sands
    To scatter a thousand ways:
Chasing the flakes that the Polar shakes
    From his shaggy coat of white,
Or hunting the trace of the track he makes
    And sweeping it from sight,
As he turned to glare from the slippery stair
    Of the iceberg's farthest height.
Till I grew so strong that I strayed ere long
    From my home of ice and chill;
With an eager heart and a merry song
    I traveled the snows until
I heard the thaws in the ice-crag's jaws
    Crunched with a hungry will;
And the angry crash of the waves that dash
    Themselves on the jagged shore
Where the splintered masts of the ice-wrecks flash,
    And the frightened breakers roar
In wild unrest on the ocean's breast
    For a thousand leagues or more.
And the grand old sea invited me
    With a million beckoning hands,
And I spread my wings for a flight as free
    As ever a sailor plans
When his thoughts are wild and his heart beguiled
    With the dreams of foreign lands.
I passed a ship on its homeward trip,
    With a weary and toil-worn crew;
And I kissed their flag with a welcome lip,
    And so glad a gale I blew
That the sailors quaffed their grog and laughed
    At the work I made them do.
I drifted by where sea-groves lie
    Like brides in the fond caress
Of the warm sunshine and the tender sky--
    Where the ocean, passionless
And tranquil, lies like a child whose eyes
    Are blurred with drowsiness.
I drank the air and the perfume there,
    And bathed in a fountain's spray;
And I smoothed the wings and the plumage rare
    Of a bird for his roundelay,
And fluttered a rag from a signal-crag
    For a wretched castaway.
With a sea-gull resting on my breast,
    I launched on a madder flight:
And I lashed the waves to a wild unrest,
    And howled with a fierce delight
Till the daylight slept; and I wailed and wept
    Like a fretful babe all night.
For I heard the boom of a gun strike doom;
    And the gleam of a blood-red star
Glared at me through the mirk and gloom
    From the lighthouse tower afar;
And I held my breath at the shriek of death
    That came from the harbor bar.
For I am the Wind, and I rule mankind,
    And I hold a sovereign reign
Over the lands, as God designed,
    And the waters they contain:
Lo! the bound of the wide world round
    Falleth in my domain!
I journeyed on, when the night was gone,
    O'er a coast of oak and pine;
And I followed a path that a stream had drawn
    Through a land of vale and vine,
And here and there was a village fair
    In a nest of shade and shine.
I passed o'er lakes where the sunshine shakes
    And shivers his golden lance
On the glittering shield of the wave that breaks
    Where the fish-boats dip and dance,
And the trader sails where the mist unveils
    The glory of old romance.
I joyed to stand where the jeweled hand
    Of the maiden-morning lies
On the tawny brow of the mountain-land.
    Where the eagle shrieks and cries,
And holds his throne to himself alone
    From the light of human eyes.
Adown deep glades where the forest shades
    Are dim as the dusk of day--
Where only the foot of the wild beast wades,
    Or the Indian dares to stray,
As the blacksnakes glide through the reeds and hide
    In the swamp-depths grim and gray.
And I turned and fled from the place of dread
    To the far-off haunts of men.
"In the city's heart is rest," I said,--
    But I found it not, and when
I saw but care and vice reign there
    I was filled with wrath again:
And I blew a spark in the midnight dark
    Till it flashed to an angry flame
And scarred the sky with a lurid mark
    As red as the blush of shame:
And a hint of hell was the dying yell
    That up from the ruins came.
The bells went wild, and the black smoke piled
    Its pillars against the night,
Till I gathered them, like flocks defiled,
    And scattered them left and right,
While the holocaust's red tresses tossed
    As a maddened Fury's might.
"Ye overthrown!" did I jeer and groan--
    "Ho! who is your master?--say!--
Ye shapes that writhe in the slag and moan
    Your slow-charred souls away--
Ye worse than worst of things accurst--
    Ye dead leaves of a day!"
I am the Wind, and I rule mankind,
    And I hold a sovereign reign
Over the lands, as God designed,
    And the waters they contain:
Lo! the bound of the wide world round
    Falleth in my domain!
    .   .   .   .   .   .   .
'I wake, as one from a dream half done,
    And gaze with a dazzled eye
On an autumn leaf like a scrap of sun
    That the wind goes whirling by,
While afar I hear, with a chill of fear,
    The winter storm-king sigh.'
The warm pulse of the nation has grown chill;
    The muffled heart of Freedom, like a knell,
Throbs solemnly for one whose earthly will
    Wrought every mission well.
Whose glowing reason towered above the sea
    Of dark disaster like a beacon light,
And led the Ship of State, unscathed and free,
    Out of the gulfs of night.
When Treason, rabid-mouthed, and fanged with steel,
    Lay growling o'er the bones of fallen braves,
And when beneath the tyrant's iron heel
    Were ground the hearts of slaves,
And War, with all his train of horrors, leapt
    Across the fortress-walls of Liberty
With havoc e'en the marble goddess wept
    With tears of blood to see.
Throughout it all his brave and kingly mind
    Kept loyal vigil o'er the patriot's vow,
And yet the flag he lifted to the wind
    Is drooping o'er him now.
And Peace--all pallid from the battle-field
    When first again it hovered o'er the land
And found his voice above it like a shield,
    Had nestled in his hand.
    .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
O throne of State and gilded Senate halls--
    Though thousands throng your aisles and galleries--
How empty are ye! and what silence falls
    On your hilarities!
And yet, though great the loss to us appears,
    The consolation sweetens all our pain--
Though hushed the voice, through all the coming years
    Its echoes will remain.
AN AUTUMNAL EXTRAVAGANZA
With a sweeter voice than birds
    Dare to twitter in their sleep,
Pipe for me a tune of words,
    Till my dancing fancies leap
Into freedom vaster far
Than the realms of Reason are!
Sing for me with wilder fire
    Than the lover ever sung,
From the time he twanged the lyre
    When the world was baby-young.
O my maiden Autumn, you--
You have filled me through and through
With a passion so intense,
All of earthly eloquence
    Fails, and falls, and swoons away
In your presence.  Like as one
Who essays to look the sun
    Fairly in the face, I say,
Though my eyes you dazzle blind
Greater dazzled is my mind.
So, my Autumn, let me kneel
    At your feet and worship you!
Be my sweetheart; let me feel
Your caress; and tell me too
Why your smiles bewilder me--
Glancing into laughter, then
Trancing into calm again,
Till your meaning drowning lies
In the dim depths of your eyes.
Let me see the things you see
Down the depths of mystery!
Blow aside the hazy veil
    From the daylight of your face
With the fragrance-ladened gale
    Of your spicy breath and chase
    Every dimple to its place.
Lift your gipsy finger-tips
To the roses of your lips,
And fling down to me a bud--
    But an unblown kiss--but one--
It shall blossom in my blood,
    Even after life is done--
When I dare to touch the brow
Your rare hair is veiling now--
When the rich, red-golden strands
Of the treasure in my hands
Shall be all of worldly worth
Heaven lifted from the earth,
Like a banner to have set
On its highest minaret.
It tossed its head at the wooing breeze;
    And the sun, like a bashful swain,
Beamed on it through the waving trees
    With a passion all in vain,--
For my rose laughed in a crimson glee,
And hid in the leaves in wait for me.
The honey-bee came there to sing
    His love through the languid hours,
And vaunt of his hives, as a proud old king
    Might boast of his palace-towers:
But my rose bowed in a mockery,
And hid in the leaves in wait for me.
The humming-bird, like a courtier gay,
    Dipped down with a dalliant song,
And twanged his wings through the roundelay
    Of love the whole day long:
Yet my rose turned from his minstrelsy
And hid in the leaves in wait for me.
The firefly came in the twilight dim
    My red, red rose to woo--
Till quenched was the flame of love in him,
    And the light of his lantern too,
As my rose wept with dewdrops three
And hid in the leaves in wait for me.
And I said:  I will cull my own sweet rose--
    Some day I will claim as mine
The priceless worth of the flower that knows
    No change, but a bloom divine--
The bloom of a fadeless constancy
That hides in the leaves in wait for me!
But time passed by in a strange disguise,
    And I marked it not, but lay
In a lazy dream, with drowsy eyes,
    Till the summer slipped away,
And a chill wind sang in a minor key:
"Where is the rose that waits for thee?"
    .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
I dream to-day, o'er a purple stain
    Of bloom on a withered stalk,
Pelted down by the autumn rain
    In the dust of the garden-walk,
That an Angel-rose in the world to be
Will hide in the leaves in wait for me.
Who would be
    A merman gay,
    Singing alone,
    Sitting alone,
With a mermaid's knee,
    For instance--hey--
        For a throne?
I would be a merman gay;
    I would sit and sing the whole day long;
I would fill my lungs with the strongest brine,
    And squirt it up in a spray of song,
And soak my head in my liquid voice;
    I'd curl my tail in curves divine,
And let each curve in a kink rejoice.
    I'd tackle the mermaids under the sea,
And yank 'em around till they yanked me,
        Sportively, sportively;
And then we would wiggle away, away,
To the pea-green groves on the coast of day,
        Chasing each other sportively.
There would be neither moon nor star;
But the waves would twang like a wet guitar
Low thunder and thrum in the darkness grum--
        Neither moon nor star;
We would shriek aloud in the dismal dales--
Shriek at each other and squawk and squeal,
        "All night!" rakishly, rakishly;
They would pelt me with oysters and wiggletails,
Laughing and clapping their hands at me,
        "All night!" prankishly, prankishly;
But I would toss them back in mine,
Lobsters and turtles of quaint design;
Then leaping out in an abrupt way,
I'd snatch them bald in my devilish glee,
And skip away when they snatched at me,
        Fiendishly, fiendishly.
O, what a jolly life I'd lead,
Ah, what a "bang-up" life indeed!
Soft are the mermaids under the sea--
We would live merrily, merrily.
THE RAINY MORNING
The dawn of the day was dreary,
    And the lowering clouds o'erhead
Wept in a silent sorrow
    Where the sweet sunshine lay dead;
And a wind came out of the eastward
    Like an endless sigh of pain,
And the leaves fell down in the pathway
    And writhed in the falling rain.
I had tried in a brave endeavor
    To chord my harp with the sun,
But the strings would slacken ever,
    And the task was a weary one:
And so, like a child impatient
    And sick of a discontent,
I bowed in a shower of tear-drops
    And mourned with the instrument.
And lo! as I bowed, the splendor
    Of the sun bent over me,
With a touch as warm and tender
    As a father's hand might be:
And, even as I felt its presence,
    My clouded soul grew bright,
And the tears, like the rain of morning,
    Melted in mists of light.
WE ARE NOT ALWAYS GLAD WHEN
We are not always glad when we smile:
    Though we wear a fair face and are gay,
        And the world we deceive
        May not ever believe
    We could laugh in a happier way.--
Yet, down in the deeps of the soul,
    Ofttimes, with our faces aglow,
        There's an ache and a moan
        That we know of alone,
    And as only the hopeless may know.
We are not always glad when we smile,--
    For the heart, in a tempest of pain,
        May live in the guise
        Of a smile in the eyes
    As a rainbow may live in the rain;
And the stormiest night of our woe
    May hang out a radiant star
        Whose light in the sky
        Of despair is a lie
    As black as the thunder-clouds are.
We are not always glad when we smile!--
    But the conscience is quick to record,
        All the sorrow and sin
        We are hiding within
    Is plain in the sight of the Lord:
And ever, O ever, till pride
    And evasion shall cease to defile
        The sacred recess
        Of the soul, we confess
    We are not always glad when we smile.
A SUMMER SUNRISE
AFTER LEE O. HARRIS
The master-hand whose pencils trace
    This wondrous landscape of the morn,
Is but the sun, whose glowing face
Reflects the rapture and the grace
    Of inspiration Heaven-born.
And yet with vision-dazzled eyes,
    I see the lotus-lands of old,
Where odorous breezes fall and rise,
And mountains, peering in the skies,
    Stand ankle-deep in lakes of gold.
And, spangled with the shine and shade,
    I see the rivers raveled out
In strands of silver, slowly fade
In threads of light along the glade
    Where truant roses hide and pout.
The tamarind on gleaming sands
    Droops drowsily beneath the heat;
And bowed as though aweary, stands
The stately palm, with lazy hands
    That fold their shadows round his feet.
And mistily, as through a veil,
    I catch the glances of a sea
Of sapphire, dimpled with a gale
Toward Colch's blowing, where the sail
    Of Jason's Argo beckons me.
And gazing on and farther yet,
    I see the isles enchanted, bright
With fretted spire and parapet,
And gilded mosque and minaret,
    That glitter in the crimson light.
But as I gaze, the city's walls
    Are keenly smitten with a gleam
Of pallid splendor, that appalls
The fancy as the ruin falls
    In ashen embers of a dream.
Yet over all the waking earth
    The tears of night are brushed away,
And eyes are lit with love and mirth,
And benisons of richest worth
    Go up to bless the new-born day.
DAS KRIST KINDEL
I had fed the fire and stirred it, till the sparkles in delight
Snapped their saucy little fingers at the chill December night;
And in dressing-gown and slippers, I had tilted back "my
The old split-bottomed rocker--and was musing all alone.
I could hear the hungry Winter prowling round the outer door,
And the tread of muffled footsteps on the white piazza floor;
But the sounds came to me only as the murmur of a stream
That mingled with the current of a lazy-flowing dream.
Like a fragrant incense rising, curled the smoke of my cigar,
With the lamplight gleaming through it like a mist-enfolded
And as I gazed, the vapor like a curtain rolled away,
With a sound of bells that tinkled, and the clatter of a sleigh.
And in a vision, painted like a picture in the air,
I saw the elfish figure of a man with frosty hair--
A quaint old man that chuckled with a laugh as he appeared,
And with ruddy cheeks like embers in the ashes of his beard.
He poised himself grotesquely, in an attitude of mirth,
On a damask-covered hassock that was sitting on the hearth;
And at a magic signal of his stubby little thumb,
I saw the fireplace changing to a bright proscenium.
And looking there, I marveled as I saw a mimic stage
Alive with little actors of a very tender age;
And some so very tiny that they tottered as they walked,
And lisped and purled and gurgled like the brooklets, when they
And their faces were like lilies, and their eyes like purest dew,
And their tresses like the shadows that the shine is woven
And they each had little burdens, and a little tale to tell
Of fairy lore, and giants, and delights delectable.
And they mixed and intermingled, weaving melody with joy,
Till the magic circle clustered round a blooming baby-boy;
And they threw aside their treasures in an ecstacy of glee,
And bent, with dazzled faces and with parted lips, to see.
'Twas a wondrous little fellow, with a dainty double-chin,
And chubby cheeks, and dimples for the smiles to blossom in;
And he looked as ripe and rosy, on his bed of straw and reeds,
As a mellow little pippin that had tumbled in the weeds.
And I saw the happy mother, and a group surrounding her
That knelt with costly presents of frankincense and myrrh;
And I thrilled with awe and wonder, as a murmur on the air
Came drifting o'er the hearing in a melody of prayer:--
'By the splendor in the heavens, and the hush upon the sea,
And the majesty of silence reigning over Galilee,--
We feel Thy kingly presence, and we humbly bow the knee
And lift our hearts and voices in gratefulness to Thee.
Thy messenger has spoken, and our doubts have fled and gone
As the dark and spectral shadows of the night before the dawn;
And, in the kindly shelter of the light around us drawn,
We would nestle down forever in the breast we lean upon.
You have given us a shepherd--You have given us a guide,
And the light of Heaven grew dimmer when You sent him from Your
But he comes to lead Thy children where the gates will open wide
To welcome his returning when his works are glorified.
By the splendor in the heavens, and the hush upon the sea,
And the majesty of silence reigning over Galilee,--
We feel Thy kingly presence, and we humbly bow the knee
And lift our hearts and voices in gratefulness to Thee.'
Then the vision, slowly failing, with the words of the refrain,
Fell swooning in the moonlight through the frosty window-pane;
And I heard the clock proclaiming, like an eager sentinel
Who brings the world good tidings,--"It is Christmas--all is
AN OLD YEAR'S ADDRESS
"I have twankled the strings of the twinkering rain;
    I have burnished the meteor's mail;
        I have bridled the wind
        When he whinnied and whined
    With a bunch of stars tied to his tail;
But my sky-rocket hopes, hanging over the past,
Must fuzzle and fazzle and fizzle at last!"
I had waded far out in a drizzling dream,
    And my fancies had spattered my eyes
        With a vision of dread,
        With a number ten head,
    And a form of diminutive size--
That wavered and wagged in a singular way
As he wound himself up and proceeded to say,--
"I have trimmed all my corns with the blade of the moon;
    I have picked every tooth with a star:
        And I thrill to recall
        That I went through it all
    Like a tune through a tickled guitar.
I have ripped up the rainbow and raveled the ends
When the sun and myself were particular friends."
And pausing again, and producing a sponge
    And wiping the tears from his eyes,
        He sank in a chair
        With a technical air
    That he struggled in vain to disguise,--
For a sigh that he breathed, as I over him leant,
Was haunted and hot with a peppermint scent.
"Alas!" he continued in quavering tones
    As a pang rippled over his face,
        "The life was too fast
        For the pleasure to last
    In my very unfortunate case;
And I'm going"--he said as he turned to adjust
A fuse in his bosom,--"I'm going to--BUST!"
I shrieked and awoke with the sullen che-boom
    Of a five-pounder filling my ears;
        And a roseate bloom
        Of a light in the room
    I saw through the mist of my tears,--
But my guest of the night never saw the display,
He had fuzzled and fazzled and fizzled away!
A NEW YEAR'S PLAINT
In words like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
    Like coarsest clothes against the cold;
    But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more.
                        --TENNYSON.
The bells that lift their yawning throats
    And lolling tongues with wrangling cries
Flung up in harsh, discordant notes,
    As though in anger, at the skies,--
Are filled with echoings replete,
    With purest tinkles of delight--
So I would have a something sweet
    Ring in the song I sing to-night.
As when a blotch of ugly guise
    On some poor artist's naked floor
Becomes a picture in his eyes,
    And he forgets that he is poor,--
So I look out upon the night,
    That ushers in the dawning year,
And in a vacant blur of light
    I see these fantasies appear.
I see a home whose windows gleam
    Like facets of a mighty gem
That some poor king's distorted dream
    Has fastened in his diadem.
And I behold a throng that reels
    In revelry of dance and mirth,
With hearts of love beneath their heels,
    And in their bosoms hearts of earth.
O Luxury, as false and grand
    As in the mystic tales of old,
When genii answered man's command,
    And built of nothing halls of gold!
O Banquet, bright with pallid jets,
    And tropic blooms, and vases caught
In palms of naked statuettes,
    Ye can not color as ye ought!
For, crouching in the storm without,
    I see the figure of a child,
In little ragged roundabout,
    Who stares with eyes that never smiled--
And he, in fancy can but taste
    The dainties of the kingly fare,
And pick the crumbs that go to waste
    Where none have learned to kneel in prayer.
Go, Pride, and throw your goblet down--
    The "merry greeting" best appears
On loving lips that never drown
    Its worth but in the wine of tears;
Go, close your coffers like your hearts,
    And shut your hearts against the poor,
Go, strut through all your pretty parts
    But take the "Welcome" from your door.
LUTHER BENSON
AFTER READING HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY
POOR victim of that vulture curse
That hovers o'er the universe,
With ready talons quick to strike
In every human heart alike,
And cruel beak to stab and tear
In virtue's vitals everywhere,--
You need no sympathy of mine
To aid you, for a strength divine
Encircles you, and lifts you clear
Above this earthly atmosphere.
And yet I can but call you poor,
As, looking through the open door
Of your sad life, I only see
A broad landscape of misery,
And catch through mists of pitying tears
The ruins of your younger years,
I see a father's shielding arm
Thrown round you in a wild alarm--
Struck down, and powerless to free
Or aid you in your agony.
I see a happy home grow dark
And desolate--the latest spark
Of hope is passing in eclipse--
The prayer upon a mother's lips
Has fallen with her latest breath
In ashes on the lips of death--
I see a penitent who reels,
And writhes, and clasps his hands, and kneels,
And moans for mercy for the sake
Of that fond heart he dared to break.
And lo! as when in Galilee
A voice above the troubled sea
Commanded "Peace; be still!" the flood
That rolled in tempest-waves of blood
Within you, fell in calm so sweet
It ripples round the Saviour's feet;
And all your noble nature thrilled
With brightest hope and faith, and filled
Your thirsty soul with joy and peace
And praise to Him who gave release.
Because her eyes were far too deep
And holy for a laugh to leap
Across the brink where sorrow tried
To drown within the amber tide;
Because the looks, whose ripples kissed
The trembling lids through tender mist,
Were dazzled with a radiant gleam--
Because of this I called her "Dream."
Because the roses growing wild
About her features when she smiled
Were ever dewed with tears that fell
With tenderness ineffable;
Because her lips might spill a kiss
That, dripping in a world like this,
Would tincture death's myrrh-bitter stream
To sweetness--so I called her "Dream."
Because I could not understand
The magic touches of a hand
That seemed, beneath her strange control,
To smooth the plumage of the soul
And calm it, till, with folded wings,
It half forgot its flutterings,
And, nestled in her palm, did seem
To trill a song that called her "Dream."
Because I saw her, in a sleep
As dark and desolate and deep
And fleeting as the taunting night
That flings a vision of delight
To some lorn martyr as he lies
In slumber ere the day he dies--
Because she vanished like a gleam
Of glory, do I call her "Dream."
WHEN EVENING SHADOWS FALL
When evening shadows fall,
    She hangs her cares away
Like empty garments on the wall
    That hides her from the day;
And while old memories throng,
    And vanished voices call,
She lifts her grateful heart in song
    When evening shadows fall.
Her weary hands forget
    The burdens of the day.
The weight of sorrow and regret
    In music rolls away;
And from the day's dull tomb,
    That holds her in its thrall,
Her soul springs up in lily bloom
    When evening shadows fall.
O weary heart and hand,
    Go bravely to the strife--
No victory is half so grand
    As that which conquers life!
One day shall yet be thine--
    The day that waits for all
Whose prayerful eyes are things divine
    When evening shadows fall.
Her hair was, oh, so dense a blur
Of darkness, midnight envied her;
And stars grew dimmer in the skies
To see the glory of her eyes;
And all the summer rain of light
That showered from the moon at night
Fell o'er her features as the gloom
Of twilight o'er a lily-bloom.
The crimson fruitage of her lips
Was ripe and lush with sweeter wine
Than burgundy or muscadine
Or vintage that the burgher sips
In some old garden on the Rhine:
And I to taste of it could well
Believe my heart a crucible
Of molten love--and I could feel
The drunken soul within me reel
And rock and stagger till it fell.
And do you wonder that I bowed
Before her splendor as a cloud
Of storm the golden-sandaled sun
Had set his conquering foot upon?
And did she will it, I could lie
In writhing rapture down and die
A death so full of precious pain
I'd waken up to die again.
A fantasy that came to me
    As wild and wantonly designed
As ever any dream might be
    Unraveled from a madman's mind,--
A tangle-work of tissue, wrought
    By cunning of the spider-brain,
    And woven, in an hour of pain,
To trap the giddy flies of thought.
I stood beneath a summer moon
    All swollen to uncanny girth,
And hanging, like the sun at noon,
    Above the center of the earth;
    But with a sad and sallow light,
    As it had sickened of the night
And fallen in a pallid swoon.
Around me I could hear the rush
    Of sullen winds, and feel the whir
Of unseen wings apast me brush
    Like phantoms round a sepulcher;
And, like a carpeting of plush,0
    A lawn unrolled beneath my feet,
    Bespangled o'er with flowers as sweet
    To look upon as those that nod
    Within the garden-fields of God,
    But odorless as those that blow
    In ashes in the shades below.
And on my hearing fell a storm
    Of gusty music, sadder yet
    Than every whimper of regret
That sobbing utterance could form,
    And patched with scraps of sound that seemed
    Torn out of tunes that demons dreamed,
    And pitched to such a piercing key,
    It stabbed the ear with agony;
    And when at last it lulled and died,
    I stood aghast and terrified.
I shuddered and I shut my eyes,
    And still could see, and feel aware
    Some mystic presence waited there;
And staring, with a dazed surprise,
    I saw a creature so divine
    That never subtle thought of mine
    May reproduce to inner sight
    So fair a vision of delight.
A syllable of dew that drips
From out a lily's laughing lips
Could not be sweeter than the word
I listened to, yet never heard.--
For, oh, the woman hiding there
Within the shadows of her hair,
Spake to me in an undertone
So delicate, my soul alone
But understood it as a moan
Of some weak melody of wind
A heavenward breeze had left behind.
A tracery of trees, grotesque
    Against the sky, behind her seen,
Like shapeless shapes of arabesque
    Wrought in an Oriental screen;
And tall, austere and statuesque
    She loomed before it--e'en as though
    The spirit-hand of Angelo
    Had chiseled her to life complete,
    With chips of moonshine round her feet.
And I grew jealous of the dusk,
    To see it softly touch her face,
    As lover-like, with fond embrace,
It folded round her like a husk:
But when the glitter of her hand,
    Like wasted glory, beckoned me,
    My eyes grew blurred and dull and dim--
    My vision failed--I could not see--
I could not stir--I could but stand,
    Till, quivering in every limb,
    I flung me prone, as though to swim
    The tide of grass whose waves of green
    Went rolling ocean-wide between
    My helpless shipwrecked heart and her
    Who claimed me for a worshiper.
And writhing thus in my despair,
    I heard a weird, unearthly sound,
    That seemed to lift me from the ground
And hold me floating in the air.
I looked, and lo!  I saw her bow
    Above a harp within her hands;
A crown of blossoms bound her brow,
    And on her harp were twisted strands
Of silken starlight, rippling o'er
With music never heard before
By mortal ears; and, at the strain,
I felt my Spirit snap its chain
And break away,--and I could see
It as it turned and fled from me
To greet its mistress, where she smiled
To see the phantom dancing wild
And wizard-like before the spell
Her mystic fingers knew so well.
I dreamed I was a spider;
A big, fat, hungry spider;
A lusty, rusty spider
    With a dozen palsied limbs;
With a dozen limbs that dangled
Where three wretched flies were tangled
And their buzzing wings were strangled
    In the middle of their hymns.
And I mocked them like a demon--
A demoniacal demon
Who delights to be a demon
    For the sake of sin alone;
And with fondly false embraces
Did I weave my mystic laces
Round their horror-stricken faces
    Till I muffled every groan.
And I smiled to see them weeping,
For to see an insect weeping,
Sadly, sorrowfully weeping,
    Fattens every spider's mirth;
And to note a fly's heart quaking,
And with anguish ever aching
Till you see it slowly breaking
    Is the sweetest thing on earth.
I experienced a pleasure,
Such a highly-flavored pleasure,
Such intoxicating pleasure,
    That I drank of it like wine;
And my mortal soul engages
That no spider on the pages
Of the history of ages
    Felt a rapture more divine.
I careened around and capered--
Madly, mystically capered--
For three days and nights I capered
    Round my web in wild delight;
Till with fierce ambition burning,
And an inward thirst and yearning
I hastened my returning
    With a fiendish appetite.
And I found my victims dying,
"Ha!" they whispered, "we are dying!"
Faintly whispered, "we are dying,
    And our earthly course is run."
And the scene was so impressing
That I breathed a special blessing,
As I killed them with caressing
    And devoured them one by one.
DREAMER, SAY
Dreamer, say, will you dream for me
    A wild sweet dream of a foreign land,
Whose border sips of a foaming sea
    With lips of coral and silver sand;
Where warm winds loll on the shady deeps,
    Or lave themselves in the tearful mist
The great wild wave of the breaker weeps
    O'er crags of opal and amethyst?
Dreamer, say, will you dream a dream
    Of tropic shades in the lands of shine,
Where the lily leans o'er an amber stream
    That flows like a rill of wasted wine,--
Where the palm-trees, lifting their shields of green,
    Parry the shafts of the Indian sun
Whose splintering vengeance falls between
    The reeds below where the waters run?
Dreamer, say, will you dream of love
    That lives in a land of sweet perfume,
Where the stars drip down from the skies above
    In molten spatters of bud and bloom?
Where never the weary eyes are wet,
    And never a sob in the balmy air,
And only the laugh of the paroquet
    Breaks the sleep of the silence there?
The harp has fallen from the master's hand;
Mute is the music, voiceless are the strings,
    Save such faint discord as the wild wind flings
In sad aeolian murmurs through the land.
The tide of melody, whose billows grand
    Flowed o'er the world in clearest utterings,
    Now, in receding current, sobs and sings
That song we never wholly understand.
* * O, eyes where glorious prophecies belong,
    And gracious reverence to humbly bow,
And kingly spirit, proud, and pure, and strong;
    O, pallid minstrel with the laureled brow,
And lips so long attuned to sacred song,
    How sweet must be the Heavenly anthem now!
Heigh-ho!  Babyhood!  Tell me where you linger!
    Let's toddle home again, for we have gone astray;
Take this eager hand of mine and lead me by the finger
    Back to the lotus-lands of the far-away!
Turn back the leaves of life.--Don't read the story.--
    Let's find the pictures, and fancy all the rest;
We can fill the written pages with a brighter glory
    Than old Time, the story-teller, at his very best.
Turn to the brook where the honeysuckle tipping
    O'er its vase of perfume spills it on the breeze,
And the bee and humming-bird in ecstacy are sipping
    From the fairy flagons of the blooming locust-trees.
Turn to the lane where we used to "teeter-totter,"
    Printing little foot-palms in the mellow mold--
Laughing at the lazy cattle wading in the water
    Where the ripples dimple round the buttercups of gold;
Where the dusky turtle lies basking on the gravel
    Of the sunny sand-bar in the middle tide,
And the ghostly dragon-fly pauses in his travel
    To rest like a blossom where the water-lily died.
Heigh-ho!  Babyhood!  Tell me where you linger!
    Let's toddle home again, for we have gone astray;
Take this eager hand of mine and lead me by the finger
    Back to the lotus-lands of the far-away!
NEW CASTLE, JULY 4, 1878 
For a hundred years the pulse of time
    Has throbbed for Liberty;
For a hundred years the grand old clime
    Columbia has been free;
        For a hundred years our country's love,
        The Stars and Stripes, has waved above.
Away far out on the gulf of years--
    Misty and faint and white
Through the fogs of wrong--a sail appears,
    And the Mayflower heaves in sight,
        And drifts again, with its little flock
        Of a hundred souls, on Plymouth Rock.
Do you see them there--as long, long since--
    Through the lens of History;
Do you see them there as their chieftain prints
    In the snow his bended knee,
        And lifts his voice through the wintry blast
        In thanks for a peaceful home at last?
Though the skies are dark and the coast is bleak,
    And the storm is wild and fierce,
Its frozen flake on the upturned cheek
    Of the Pilgrim melts in tears,
        And the dawn that springs from the darkness there
        Is the morning light of an answered prayer.
The morning light of the day of Peace
    That gladdens the aching eyes,
And gives to the soul that sweet release
    That the present verifies,--
        Nor a snow so deep, nor a wind so chill
        To quench the flame of a freeman's will!
Days of toil when the bleeding hand
    Of the pioneer grew numb,
When the untilled tracts of the barren land
    Where the weary ones had come
        Could offer nought from a fruitful soil
        To stay the strength of the stranger's toil.
Days of pain, when the heart beat low,
    And the empty hours went by
Pitiless, with the wail of woe
    And the moan of Hunger's cry--
        When the trembling hands upraised in prayer
        Had only the strength to hold them there.
Days when the voice of hope had fled--
    Days when the eyes grown weak
Were folded to, and the tears they shed
    Were frost on a frozen cheek--
        When the storm bent down from the skies and gave
        A shroud of snow for the Pilgrim's grave.
Days at last when the smiling sun
    Glanced down from a summer sky,
And a music rang where the rivers run,
    And the waves went laughing by;
        And the rose peeped over the mossy bank
        While the wild deer stood in the stream and drank.
And the birds sang out so loud and good,
    In a symphony so clear
And pure and sweet that the woodman stood
    With his ax upraised to hear,
        And to shape the words of the tongue unknown
        Into a language all his own--
'Sing! every bird, to-day!
    Sing for the sky so clear,
    And the gracious breath of the atmosphere
Shall waft our cares away.
Sing! sing! for the sunshine free;
Sing through the land from sea to sea;
Lift each voice in the highest key
        And sing for Liberty!'
'Sing for the arms that fling
    Their fetters in the dust
    And lift their hands in higher trust
Unto the one Great King;
Sing for the patriot heart and hand;
Sing for the country they have planned;
Sing that the world may understand
        This is Freedom's land!'
'Sing in the tones of prayer,
    Sing till the soaring soul
    Shall float above the world's control
In freedom everywhere!
Sing for the good that is to be,
Sing for the eyes that are to see
The land where man at last is free,
        O sing for liberty!'
A holy quiet reigned, save where the hand
Of labor sent a murmur through the land,
And happy voices in a harmony
Taught every lisping breeze a melody.
A nest of cabins, where the smoke upcurled
A breathing incense to the other world.
A land of languor from the sun of noon,
That fainted slowly to the pallid moon,
Till stars, thick-scattered in the garden-land
Of Heaven by the great Jehovah's hand,
Had blossomed into light to look upon
The dusky warrior with his arrow drawn,
As skulking from the covert of the night
With serpent cunning and a fiend's delight,
With murderous spirit, and a yell of hate
The voice of Hell might tremble to translate:
When the fond mother's tender lullaby
Went quavering in shrieks all suddenly,
And baby-lips were dabbled with the stain
Of crimson at the bosom of the slain,
And peaceful homes and fortunes ruined--lost
In smoldering embers of the holocaust.
Yet on and on, through years of gloom and strife,
Our country struggled into stronger life;
Till colonies, like footprints in the sand,
Marked Freedom's pathway winding through the land--
And not the footprints to be swept away
Before the storm we hatched in Boston Bay,--
But footprints where the path of war begun
That led to Bunker Hill and Lexington,--
For he who "dared to lead where others dared
To follow" found the promise there declared
Of Liberty, in blood of Freedom's host
Baptized to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
Oh, there were times when every patriot breast
Was riotous with sentiments expressed
In tones that swelled in volume till the sound
Of lusty war itself was well-nigh drowned.
Oh, those were times when happy eyes with tears
Brimmed o'er as all the misty doubts and fears
Were washed away, and Hope with gracious mien,
Reigned from her throne again a sovereign queen.
Until at last, upon a day like this
When flowers were blushing at the summer's kiss,
And when the sky was cloudless as the face
Of some sweet infant in its angel grace,--
There came a sound of music, thrown afloat
Upon the balmy air--a clanging note
Reiterated from the brazen throat
Of Independence Bell:  A sound so sweet,
The clamoring throngs of people in the streets
Were stilled as at the solemn voice of prayer,
And heads were bowed, and lips were moving there
That made no sound--until the spell had passed,
And then, as when all sudden comes the blast
Of some tornado, came the cheer on cheer
Of every eager voice, while far and near
The echoing bells upon the atmosphere
Set glorious rumors floating, till the ear
Of every listening patriot tingled clear,
And thrilled with joy and jubilee to hear.
'Stir all your echoes up,
    O Independence Bell,
And pour from your inverted cup
    The song we love so well.
'Lift high your happy voice,
    And swing your iron tongue
Till syllables of praise rejoice
    That never yet were sung.
'Ring in the gleaming dawn
    Of Freedom--Toll the knell
Of Tyranny, and then ring on,
    O Independence Bell.--
'Ring on, and drown the moan,
    Above the patriot slain,
Till sorrow's voice shall catch the tone
    And join the glad refrain.
'Ring out the wounds of wrong
    And rankle in the breast;
Your music like a slumber-song
    Will lull revenge to rest.
'Ring out from Occident
    To Orient, and peal
From continent to continent
    The mighty joy you feel.
'Ring! Independence Bell!
    Ring on till worlds to be
Shall listen to the tale you tell
    Of love and Liberty!'
O Liberty--the dearest word
A bleeding country ever heard,--
We lay our hopes upon thy shrine
And offer up our lives for thine.
You gave us many happy years
Of peace and plenty ere the tears
A mourning country wept were dried
Above the graves of those who died
Upon thy threshold.  And again
When newer wars were bred, and men
Went marching in the cannon's breath
And died for thee and loved the death,
While, high above them, gleaming bright,
The dear old flag remained in sight,
And lighted up their dying eyes
With smiles that brightened paradise.
O Liberty, it is thy power
To gladden us in every hour
Of gloom, and lead us by thy hand
As little children through a land
Of bud and blossom; while the days
Are filled with sunshine, and thy praise
Is warbled in the roundelays
Of joyous birds, and in the song
Of waters, murmuring along
The paths of peace, whose flowery fringe
Has roses finding deeper tinge
Of crimson, looking on themselves
Reflected--leaning from the shelves
Of cliff and crag and mossy mound
Of emerald splendor shadow-drowned.--
We hail thy presence, as you come
With bugle blast and rolling drum,
And booming guns and shouts of glee
Commingled in a symphony
That thrills the worlds that throng to see
The glory of thy pageantry.
0And with thy praise, we breathe a prayer
That God who leaves you in our care
May favor us from this day on
With thy dear presence--till the dawn
Of Heaven, breaking on thy face,
Lights up thy first abiding place.
TOM VAN ARDEN
Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
    Our warm fellowship is one
Far too old to comprehend
    Where its bond was first begun:
        Mirage-like before my gaze
        Gleams a land of other days,
        Where two truant boys, astray,
        Dream their lazy lives away.
There's a vision, in the guise
    Of Midsummer, where the Past
Like a weary beggar lies
    In the shadow Time has cast;
        And as blends the bloom of trees
        With the drowsy hum of bees,
        Fragrant thoughts and murmurs blend,
        Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
    All the pleasures we have known
Thrill me now as I extend
    This old hand and grasp your own--
        Feeling, in the rude caress,
        All affection's tenderness;
        Feeling, though the touch be rough,
        Our old souls are soft enough.
So we'll make a mellow hour:
    Fill your pipe, and taste the wine--
Warp your face, if it be sour,
    I can spare a smile from mine;
        If it sharpen up your wit,
        Let me feel the edge of it--
        I have eager ears to lend,
        Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
    Are we "lucky dogs," indeed?
Are we all that we pretend
    In the jolly life we lead?--
        Bachelors, we must confess,
        Boast of "single blessedness"
        To the world, but not alone--
        Man's best sorrow is his own!
And the saddest truth is this,--
    Life to us has never proved
What we tasted in the kiss
    Of the women we have loved:
        Vainly we congratulate
        Our escape from such a fate
            As their lying lips could send,
        Tom Van Arden, my old friend!
Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
    Hearts, like fruit upon the stem,
Ripen sweetest, I contend,
    As the frost falls over them:
        Your regard for me to-day
        Makes November taste of May,
        And through every vein of rhyme
        Pours the blood of summer-time.
When our souls are cramped with youth
    Happiness seems far away
In the future, while, in truth,
    We look back on it to-day
        Through our tears, nor dare to boast,--
        "Better to have loved and lost!"
        Broken hearts are hard to mend,
        Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
    I grow prosy, and you tire;
Fill the glasses while I bend
    To prod up the failing fire. . . .
        You are restless:--I presume
        There's a dampness in the room.--
        Much of warmth our nature begs,
        With rheumatics in our legs! . . .
Humph! the legs we used to fling
    Limber-jointed in the dance,
When we heard the fiddle ring
    Up the curtain of Romance,
        And in crowded public halls
        Played with hearts like jugglers' balls.--
        FEATS OF MOUNTEBANKS, DEPEND!--
        Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
    Pardon, then, this theme of mine:
While the firelight leaps to lend
    Higher color to the wine,--
        I propose a health to those
        Who have HOMES, and home's repose,
        Wife- and child-love without end!
        . . . Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
This Etext was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Greg Berckes
I      THE LURE OF THE CIRCUS
II     PHIL HEARS HIS DISMISSAL
III    MAKING HIS START IN THE WORLD
IV     THE CIRCUS COMES TO TOWN
V      WHEN THE BANDS PLAYED
VI     PROVING HIS METTLE
VII    MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE ELEPHANTS
VIII   IN THE SAWDUST ARENA
IX     GETTING HIS FIRST CALL
X      PHIL GETS A SURPRISE
XI     THE FIRST NIGHT WITH THE SHOW
XII    A THRILLING RESCUE
XIII   THE DAWNING OF A NEW DAY
XIV    AN UNEXPECTED HIT
XV     A STROKE OF GOOD FORTUNE
XVI    HIS FIRST SETBACK
XVII   LEFT BEHIND
XVIII  A STARTLING DISCOVERY
XIX    TEDDY DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF
XX     THE RETURN TO THE SAWDUST LIFE
XXI    AN ELEPHANT IN JAIL
XXII   EMPEROR ANSWERS THE SIGNAL
XXIII  THE MYSTERY SOLVED
XXIV   CONCLUSION
The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings
THE LURE OF THE CIRCUS
"I say, Phil, I can do that."
"Do what, Teddy?"
"A cartwheel in the air like that fellow is doing in the picture
on the billboard there."
"Oh, pshaw!  You only think you can.  Besides, that's not a
cartwheel; that's a double somersault.  It's a real stunt, let me
tell you.  Why, I can do a cartwheel myself.  But up in the air
like that--well, I don't know.  I guess not.  I'd be willing to
try it, though, if I had something below to catch me," added the
lad, critically surveying the figures on the poster before them.
"How'd you like to be a circus man, Phil?"
Phil's dark eyes glowed with a new light, his slender figure
straightening until the lad appeared fully half a head taller.
"More than anything else in the world," he breathed.  "Would
"Going to be," nodded Teddy decisively, as if the matter were
already settled.
"Oh, you are, eh?"
"I don't know.  Someday--someday when I get old enough, maybe."
Phil Forrest surveyed his companion with a half critical smile on
"What are you going to do--be a trapeze performer or what?"
"Well," reflected the lad wisely, "maybe I shall be an 'Or What.'
I'm not sure.  Sometimes I think I should like to be the fellow
who cracks the whip with the long lash and makes the clowns hop
around on one foot--"
"You mean the ringmaster?"
"I guess that's the fellow.  He makes 'em all get around lively.
Then, sometimes, I think I would rather be a clown.  I can skin a
cat on the flying rings to beat the band, now.  What would you
rather be, Phil?"
"Me?  Oh, something up in the air--high up near the peak of the
tent--something thrilling that would make the people sit up on
the board seats and gasp, when, all dressed in pink and spangles,
I'd go flying through the air--"
"Just like a bird?" questioned Teddy, with a rising inflection in
"Yes.  That's what I'd like most to do, Teddy," concluded the
lad, his face flushed with the thought of the triumphs that might
Teddy Tucker uttered a soft, long-drawn whistle.
"My, you've got it bad, haven't you?  Never thought you were that
set on the circus.  Wouldn't it be fine, now, if we both could
get with a show?"
"Great!" agreed Phil, with an emphatic nod.  "Sometimes I think
my uncle would be glad to have me go away--that he wouldn't care
whether I joined a circus, or what became of me."
"Ain't had much fun since your ma died, have you, Phil?"
questioned Teddy sympathetically.
"Not much," answered the lad, a thin, gray mist clouding his
eyes. "No, not much.  But, then, I'm not complaining."
"Your uncle's a mean old--"
"There, there, Teddy, please don't say it.  He may be all you
think he is, but for all the mean things he's said and done to
me, I've never given him an impudent word, Teddy.  Can you guess
"Cause he's your uncle, maybe," grumbled Teddy.
"No, 'cause he's my mother's brother--that's why."
"I don't know.  Maybe I'd feel that way if I'd had a mother."
"But you did."
"Nobody ever introduced us, if I did.  Guess she didn't know me.
But if your uncle was my uncle do you know what I'd do with him,
Phil Forrest?"
"Don't let's talk about him.  Let's talk about the circus. It's
more fun," interrupted Phil, turning to the billboard again and
gazing at it with great interest.
They were standing before the glowing posters of the Great
Sparling Combined Shows, that was to visit Edmeston on the
following Thursday.
Phillip Forrest and Teddy Tucker were fast friends, though they
were as different in appearance and temperament as two boys well
could be.  Phil was just past sixteen, while Teddy was a little
less than a year younger.  Phil's figure was slight and graceful,
while that of his companion was short and chubby.
Both lads were orphans.  Phil's parents had been dead for
something more than five years.  Since their death he had been
living with a penurious old uncle who led a hermit-like existence
in a shack on the outskirts of Edmeston.
But the lad could remember when it had been otherwise--when he
had lived in his own home, surrounded by luxury and refinement,
until evil days came upon them without warning.  His father's
property had been swept away, almost in a night.  A year later
both of his parents had died, leaving him to face the world
The boy's uncle had taken him in begrudgingly, and Phil's life
from that moment on had been one of self-denial and hard work.
Yet he was thankful for one thing--thankful that his miserly old
uncle had permitted him to continue at school.
Standing high in his class meant something in Phil's case, for
the boy was obliged to work at whatever he could find to do after
school hours, his uncle compelling him to contribute something to
the household expenses every week.  His duties done, Phil was
obliged to study far into the night, under the flickering light
of a tallow candle, because oil cost too much.  Sometimes his
candle burned far past the midnight hour, while he applied
himself to his books that he might be prepared for the next day's
Hard lines for a boy?
Yes.  But Phil Forrest was not the lad to complain.  He went
about his studies the same as he approached any other task that
was set for him to do--went about it with a grim, silent
determination to conquer it.  And he always did.
As for Teddy--christened Theodore, but so long ago that he had
forgotten that that was his name--he studied, not because he
possessed a burning desire for knowledge, but as a matter of
course, and much in the same spirit he did the chores for the
people with whom he lived.
Teddy was quite young when his parents died leaving him without a
relative in the world.  A poor, but kind-hearted family in
Edmeston had taken the lad in rather than see him become a public
charge. With them he had lived and been cared for ever since.  Of
late years, however, he had been able to do considerable toward
lightening the burden for them by the money he managed to earn
here and there.
The two boys were on their way home from school.  There remained
but one more day before the close of the term, which was a matter
of sincere regret to Phil and of keen satisfaction to his
companion. Just now both were too full of the subject of the
coming show to think of much else.
"Going to the show, Phil?"
"I am afraid not."
"I haven't any money; that's the principal reason," smiled the
boy.  "Are you?"
"Sure.  Don't need any money to go to a circus."
"You don't?"
"How do you manage it?"
"Crawl in under the tent when the man ain't looking," answered
Teddy promptly.
"I wouldn't want to do that," decided the older lad, with a shake
of the head.  "It wouldn't be quite honest.  Do you think so?"
Teddy Tucker shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
"Never thought about it.  Don't let myself think about it. Isn't
safe, for I might not go to the show if I did.  What's your other
"For not going to the circus?"
"Well, I don't think Uncle would let me; that's a fact."
"Says circuses and all that sort of thing are evil influences."
"Oh, pshaw!  Wish he was my uncle," decided Teddy belligerently.
"How long are you going to stand for being mauled around like a
little yellow dog?"
"I'll stand most anything for the sake of getting an education.
When I get that then I'm going to strike out for myself, and do
something in the world.  You'll hear from me yet, Teddy Tucker,
and maybe I'll hear from you, too."
"See me, you mean--see me doing stunts on a high something-or-
other in a circus.  Watch me turn a somersault."
The lad stood poised on the edge of the ditch, on the other side
of which the billboard stood.  This gave him the advantage of an
elevated position from which to attempt his feat.
"Look out that you don't break your neck," warned Phil.  "I'd try
it on a haymow, or something like that, first."
"Don't you worry about me.  See how easy that fellow in the
picture is doing it.  Here goes!"
Teddy launched himself into the air, with a very good imitation
of a diver making a plunge into the water, hands stretched out
before him, legs straight behind him.
He was headed straight for the ditch.
"Turn, Teddy!  Turn!  You'll strike on your head."
Teddy was as powerless to turn as if he had been paralyzed from
head to foot.  Down he went, straight as an arrow.  There
followed a splash as his head struck the water of the ditch, the
lad's feet beating a tattoo in the air while his head was stuck
fast in the mud at the bottom of the ditch.
"He'll drown," gasped Phil, springing down into the little
stream, regardless of the damage liable to be done to his own
Throwing both arms about the body of his companion he gave a
mighty tug.  Teddy stuck obstinately, and Phil was obliged to
take a fresh hold before he succeeded in hauling the lad from his
perilous position.  Teddy was gasping for breath.  His face,
plastered with mud, was unrecognizable, while his clothes were
covered from head to foot.
Phil dumped him on the grass beneath the circus billboard and
began wiping the mud from his companion's face, while Teddy
quickly sat up, blinking the mud out of his eyes and grumbling
unintelligibly.
"You're a fine circus performer, you are," laughed Phil.
"Suppose you had been performing on a flying trapeze in a circus,
what do you suppose would have happened to you?"
"I'd have had a net under me then, and I wouldn't have fallen in
the ditch," grunted Teddy sullenly.
"What do you suppose the folks will say when you go home in that
"Don't care what they say.  Fellow has got to learn sometime, and
if I don't have any worse thing happen to me than falling in a
ditch I ought to be pretty well satisfied.  Guess I'll go back
now.  Come on, go 'long with me."
Phil turned and strode along by the side of his companion until
they reached the house where Teddy lived.
"Come on in."
"I'm sorry, Teddy, but I can't.  My uncle will be expecting me,
and he won't like it if I am late."
"All right; see you tomorrow if you don't come out again tonight.
We'll try some more stunts then."
"I wouldn't till after the circus, were I in your place," laughed
"Cause, if you break your neck, you won't be able to go to the
"Huh!" grunted Teddy, hastily turning his back on his companion
and starting for the house.
Phil took his way home silently and thoughtfully, carrying his
precious bundle of books under an arm, his active mind planning
as to how he might employ his time to the best advantage during
the summer vacation that was now so close at hand.
A rheumatic, bent figure was standing in front of the shack where
the lad lived, glaring up the street from beneath bushy eyebrows,
noting Phil Forrest's leisurely gait disapprovingly.
Phil saw him a moment later.
"I'm in for a scolding," he muttered.  "Wonder what it is all
about this time.  I don't seem able to do a thing to please Uncle
PHIL HEARS HIS DISMISSAL
"Where you been, young man?"  The question was a snarl rather
than a sentence.
"To school, Uncle, of course."
"School's been out more than an hour.  I say, where have you
"I stopped on the way for a few minutes."
"You did?" exploded Abner Adams.  "Where?"
"Teddy Tucker and I stopped to read a circus bill over there on
Clover Street.  We did not stop but a few minutes.  Was there any
harm in that?"
"Harm?  Circus bill--"
"And I want to go to the circus, too, Uncle, when it comes here.
You know?  I have not been to anything of that sort since mother
died--not once.  I'll work and earn the money.  I can go in the
evening after my work is finished.  Please let me go, Uncle."
For a full minute Abner Adams was too overcome with his emotions
to speak.  He hobbled about in a circle, smiting the ground with
his cane, alternately brandishing it threateningly in the air
over the head of the unflinching Phil.
"Circus!" he shouted.  "I might have known it!  I might have
known it!  You and that Tucker boy are two of a kind.  You'll
both come to some bad ending.  Only fools and questionable
characters go to such places--"
"My mother and father went, and they always took me," replied the
boy, drawing himself up with dignity.  "You certainly do not
include them in either of the two classes you have named?"
"So much the worse for them!  So much the worse for them.  They
were a pair of--"
"Uncle, Uncle!" warned Phil.  "Please don't say anything against
my parents.  I won't stand it.  Don't forget that my mother was
your own sister, too."
"I'm not likely to forget it, after she's bundled such a baggage
as you into my care.  You're turning out a worthless, good-for-
nothing loaf--"
"You haven't said whether or not I might go to the circus,
Uncle," reminded Phil.
"Circus?  No!  I'll have none of my money spent on any such
worthless--"
"But I didn't ask you to spend your money, even though you have
plenty of it.  I said I would earn the money--"
"You'll have a chance to earn it, and right quick at that. No,
you won't go to any circus so long as you're living under my
"Very well, Uncle, I shall do as you wish, of course," answered
Phil, hiding his disappointment as well as he could.  The lad
shifted his bundle of books to the other hand and started slowly
for the house.
Abner Adams hobbled about until he faced the lad again, an angry
gleam lighting up his squinting eyes.
"Come back here!"
Phil halted, turning.
"I said come back here."
The lad did so, his self-possession and quiet dignity never
deserting him for an instant.  This angered the crabbed old uncle
more than ever.
"When will you get through school?"
"Tomorrow, I believe."
"Huh!  Then, I suppose you intend to loaf for the rest of the
summer and live on my hard earned savings.  Is that it?"
"No, sir; I hadn't thought of doing anything of the sort. I
"What did you think?"
"I thought I would find something to do.  Of course, I do not
expect to be idle.  I shall work at something until school begins
again next fall, then, of course, I shall not be able to do so
"School!  You've had enough school!  In my days boys didn't spend
the best part of their lives in going to school.  They worked."
"Yes, sir; I am willing to work, too.  But, Uncle, I must have an
education.  I shall be able to earn so much more then, and, if
necessary, I shall be able to pay you for all you have spent on
me, which isn't much, you know."
"What, what?  You dare to be impudent to me?  You--"
"No, sir, I am not impudent.  I have never been that and I never
shall be; but you are accusing me wrongfully."
"Enough.  You have done with school--"
"You--you mean that I am not to go to school any more--that I
have got to go through life with the little I have learned?  Is
that what you mean, Uncle?" asked the boy, with a sinking heart.
"You heard me."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I am working and I shall be working," Phil replied.
"You're right you will, or you'll starve.  I have been thinking
this thing over a lot lately.  A boy never amounts to anything if
he's mollycoddled and allowed to spend his days depending on
someone else.  Throw him out and let him fight his own way.
That's what my father used to tell me, and that's what I'm going
to say to you."
"What do you mean, Uncle?"
"Mean?  Can't you understand the English language?  Have I got to
draw a picture to make you understand?  Get to work!"
"I am going to as soon as school is out."
"You'll do it now.  Get yourself out of my house, bag and
"Uncle, Uncle!" protested the lad in amazement.  "Would you turn
"Would I?  I have, only you are too stupid to know it.  You'll
thank me for it when you get old enough to have some sense."
Phil's heart sank within him, and it required all his
self-control to keep the bitter tears from his eyes.
"When do you wish me to go?" he asked without a quaver in his
"Very well, I'll go.  But what do you think my mother would say,
could she know this?"
"That will do, young man.  Do your chores, and then--"
"I am not working for you now, Uncle, you know, so I shall have
to refuse to do the chores.  There is fifty cents due me from Mr.
Churchill for fixing his chicken coop.  You may get that, I don't
Phil turned away once more, and with head erect entered the
house, going straight to his room, leaving Abner Adams fuming and
stamping about in the front yard.  The old man's rage knew no
bounds.  He was so beside himself with anger over the fancied
impudence of his nephew that, had the boy been present, he might
have so far forgotten himself as to have used his cane on Phil.
But Phil by this time had entered his own room, locking the door
behind him.  The lad threw his books down on the bed, dropped
into a chair and sat palefaced, tearless and silent.  Slowly his
eyes rose to the old-fashioned bureau, where his comb and brush
lay. The eyes halted when at length they rested on the picture of
The lad rose as if drawn by invisible hands, reached out and
clasped the photograph to him.  Then the pent-up tears welled up
in a flood.  With the picture pressed to his burning cheek Phil
Forrest threw himself on his bed and sobbed out his bitter grief.
He did not hear the thump of Abner Adams' cane on the bedroom
door, nor the angry demands that he open it.
"Mother, Mother!" breathed the unhappy boy, as his sobs gradually
merged into long-drawn, trembling sighs.
Perhaps his appeal was not unheard.  At least Phil Forrest sprang
from his bed, holding the picture away from him with both hands
and gazing into the eyes of his mother.
Slowly his shoulders drew back and his head came up, while an
expression of strong determination flashed into his own eyes.
"I'll do it--I'll be a man, Mother!" he exclaimed in a voice in
which there was not the slightest tremor now.  "I'll fight the
battle and I'll win."
Phil Forest had come to the parting of the ways, which he faced
with a courage unusual in one of his years.  There was little to
be done.  He packed his few belongings in a bag that had been his
mother's.  The lad possessed one suit besides the one he wore,
and this he stowed away as best he could, determining to press it
out when he had located himself.
Finally his task was finished.  He stood in the middle of the
floor glancing around the little room that had been his home for
so long.  But he felt no regrets.  He was only making sure that
he had not left anything behind.  Having satisfied himself on
this point, Phil gathered up his bundle of books, placed the
picture of his mother in his inside coat pocket, then threw open
The lad's uncle had stamped to the floor below, where he was
awaiting Phil's coming.
"Good-bye, Uncle," he said quietly, extending a hand.
"Let me see that bag," snapped the old man.
"The bag is mine--it belonged to my mother," explained the boy.
"Surely you don't object to my taking it with me?"
"You're welcome to it, and good riddance; but I'm going to find
out what's inside of it."
"You surely don't think I would take anything that doesn't belong
to me--you can't mean that?"
"Ain't saying what I mean.  Hand over that bag."
With burning cheeks, Phil did as he was bid, his unwavering eyes
fixed almost sternly on the wrathful face of Abner Adams.
"Huh!" growled the old man, tumbling the contents out on the
floor, shaking Phil's clothes to make sure that nothing was
concealed in them.
Apparently satisfied, the old man threw the bag on the floor with
an exclamation of disgust.  Phil once more gathered up his
belongings and stowed them away in the satchel.
"Turn out your pockets!"
"There is nothing in them, Uncle, save some trinkets of my own
and my mother's picture."
"Turn them out!" thundered the old man.
"Uncle, I have always obeyed you.  Obedience was one of the
things that my mother taught me, but I'm sure that were she here
she would tell me I was right in refusing to humiliate myself as
you would have me do.  There is nothing in my pockets that does
not belong to me.  I am not a thief."
"Then I'll turn them out myself!" snarled Abner Adams, starting
Phil stepped back a pace, satchel in hand.
"Uncle, I am a man now," said the boy, straightening to his full
height.  "Please don't force me to do something that I should be
sorry for all the rest of my life.  Will you shake hands with
"No!" thundered Abner Adams.  "Get out of my sight before I lay
the stick over your head!"
Phil stretched out an appealing hand, then hastily withdrew it.
"Good-bye, Uncle Abner," he breathed.
Without giving his uncle a chance to reply, the lad turned,
opened the door and ran down the steps.
MAKING HIS START IN THE WORLD
The sun was just setting as Phil Forrest strode out of the yard.
Once outside of the gate he paused, glancing irresolutely up and
down the street.  Which way to turn or where to go he did not
know. He had not thought before of what he should do.
Phil heard the clatter of Abner Adams' stick as the old man
thumped about in the kitchen.
Suddenly the door was jerked open with unusual violence.
"Begone!" bellowed Mr. Adams, brandishing his cane threateningly.
Phil turned down the street, without casting so much as a glance
in the direction of his wrathful uncle, and continued on toward
the open country.  To anyone who had observed him there was
nothing of uncertainty in the lad's walk as he swung along. As a
matter of fact, Phil had not the slightest idea where he was
going.  He knew only that he wanted to get away by himself.
On the outskirts of the village men had been at work that day,
cutting and piling up hay.  The field was dotted with heaps of
the fragrant, freshly garnered stuff.
Phil hesitated, glanced across the field, and, noting that the
men had all gone home for the day, climbed the fence.  He walked
on through the field until he had reached the opposite side of
it. Then the lad placed his bag on the ground and sat down on a
pile of hay.
With head in hands, he tried to think, to plan, but somehow his
mind seemed unable to perform its proper functions.  It simply
would not work.
"Not much of a start in the world, this," grinned Phil, shifting
his position so as to command a better view of the world, for he
did not want anyone to see him.  "I suppose Uncle Abner is
getting supper now.  But where am I going to get mine?  I hadn't
thought of that before.  It looks very much as if I should have
to go without.  But I don't care.  Perhaps it will do me good to
miss a meal," decided the boy sarcastically.  "I've been eating
too much lately, anyhow."
Twilight came; then the shadows of night slowly settled over the
landscape, while the lad lay stretched out on the sweet-smelling
hay, hands supporting his head, gazing up into the starlit sky.
Slowly his heavy eyelids fluttered and closed, and Phil was
asleep. The night was warm and he experienced no discomfort.  He
was a strong, healthy boy, so that sleeping out of doors was no
hardship to him.  All through the night he slept as soundly as if
he had been in his own bed at home.  Nor did he awaken until the
bright sunlight of the morning finally burned his eyelids apart.
Phil started up rubbing his eyes.
At first he wondered where he was.  But the sight of his bag
lying a little to one side brought back with a rush the memory of
what had happened to him the evening before.
"Why, it's morning," marveled the lad, blinking in the strong
sunlight. "And I've slept on this pile of hay all night.  It's
the first time I ever slept out of doors, and I never slept
better in my life. Guess I'll fix myself up a little."
Phil remembered that a little trout stream cut across the field
off to the right.  Taking up his bag, he started for the stream,
where he made his toilet as best he could, finishing up by lying
flat on his stomach, taking a long, satisfying drink of the
sparkling water.
"Ah, that feels better," he breathed, rolling over on the bank.
After a little he helped himself to another drink.  "But I've got
to do something.  I can't stay out here in this field all the
rest of my life.  And if I don't find something to eat I'll
starve to death.  I'll go downtown and see if I can't earn my
breakfast somehow."
Having formed this resolution, Phil took up his belongings and
started away toward the village.  His course led him right past
Abner Adams' house, but, fortunately, Mr. Adams was not in sight.
Phil would have felt a keen humiliation had he been forced to
meet the taunts of his uncle.  He hurried on past the house
without glancing toward it.
He had gone on for some little way when he was halted by a
familiar voice.
"Hello, Phil!  Where are you going in such a hurry and so early
in the morning?"
Phil started guiltily and looked up quickly at the speaker.
"Good morning, Mrs. Cahill.  What time is it?"
"It's just past four o'clock in the morning."
"Gracious!  I had no idea it was so early as that," exclaimed the
"If you are not in such a great hurry, stop a bit," urged the
woman, her keen eyes noting certain things that she did not give
voice to.  She had known Phil Forrest for many years, and his
parents before him.  Furthermore, she knew something of the life
he had led since the death of his parents.  "Had your breakfast?"
"Of course you haven't.  Come right in and eat with me," urged
the good-hearted widow.
"If you will let me do some chores, or something to pay for it, I
will," agreed Phil hesitatingly.
"Nothing of the kind!  You'll keep me company at breakfast; then
you'll be telling me all about it."
"About what?"
" 'Bout your going away," pointing significantly to the bag that
Phil was carrying.
He was ravenously hungry, though he did not realize it fully
until the odor of the widow's savory cooking smote his nostrils.
She watched him eat with keen satisfaction.
"Now tell me what's happened," urged Mrs. Cahill, after he had
finished the meal.
Phil did so.  He opened his heart to the woman who had known his
mother, while she listened in sympathetic silence, now and then
uttering an exclamation of angry disapproval when his uncle's
words were repeated to her.
"And you're turned out of house and home?  Is that it, my boy?"
"Well, yes, that's about it," grinned Phil.
"It's a shame."
"I'm not complaining, you know, Mrs. Cahill.  Perhaps it's the
best thing that could have happened to me.  I've got to start out
for myself sometime, you know.  I'm glad of one thing, and that
is that I didn't have to go until school closed.  I get through
the term today, you know?"
"And you're going to school today?"
"Oh, yes.  I wouldn't want to miss the last day."
"Then what?"
"I don't know.  I shall find something else to do, I guess. I
want to earn enough money this summer so that I can go to school
again in the fall."
"And you shall.  You shall stay right here with the Widow Cahill
until you've got through with your schooling, my lad."
"I couldn't think of that.  No; I am not going to be a burden to
anyone.  Don't you see how I feel--that I want to earn my own
living now?"
She nodded understandingly.
"You can do some chores and--"
"I'll stay here until I find something else to do," agreed Phil
slowly.  "I shan't be able to look about much today, because I'll
be too busy at school; but tomorrow I'll begin hunting for a job.
What can I do for you this morning?"
"Well, you might chop some wood if you are aching to exercise
your muscles," answered the widow, with a twinkle in her eyes.
She knew that there was plenty of wood stored in the woodhouse,
but she was too shrewd an observer to tell Phil so, realizing, as
she did, that the obligation he felt for her kindness was too
great to be lightly treated.
Phil got at his task at once, and in a few moments she heard him
whistling an accompaniment to the steady thud, thud of the axe as
he swung it with strong, resolute arms.
"He's a fine boy," was the Widow Cahill's muttered conclusion.
Phil continued at his work without intermission until an hour had
passed.  Mrs. Cahill went out, begging that he come in and rest.
"Rest?  Why, haven't I been resting all night?  I feel as if I
could chop down the house and work it up into kindling wood, all
before school time.  What time is it?"
"Nigh on to seven o'clock.  I've wanted to ask you something ever
since you told me you had left Abner Adams.  It's rather a
personal question."
The lad nodded.
"Did your uncle send you away without any money?"
"Of course.  Why should he have given me anything so long as I
was going to leave him?"
"Did you ever hear him say that your mother had left a little
money with him before she died--money that was to be used for
your education as long as it lasted?"
Phil straightened up slowly, his axe falling to the ground, an
expression of surprise appeared in his eyes.
"My mother left money--for me, you say?" he wondered.
"No, Phil, I haven't said so.  I asked you if Abner had ever said
anything of the sort?"
"No.  Do you think she did?"
"I'm not saying what I think.  I wish I was a man; I'd read old
Abner Adams a lecture that he wouldn't forget as long as he
Phil smiled indulgently.
"He's an old man, Mrs. Cahill.  He's all crippled up with
rheumatism, and maybe he's got a right to be cranky--"
"And to turn his own sister's child outdoors, eh?  Not by a long
shot. Rheumatics don't give anybody any call to do any such a
thing as that. He ought to have his nose twisted, and it's me, a
good church member, as says so."
The lad picked up his axe and resumed his occupation, while Mrs.
Cahill turned up a chunk of wood and sat down on it, keeping up a
running fire of comment, mostly directed at Abner Adams, and
which must have made his ears burn.
Shortly after eight o'clock Phil gathered his books, strapped
them and announced that he would be off for school.
"I'll finish the woodpile after school," he called back, as he
was leaving the gate.
"You'll do nothing of the sort," retorted the Widow Cahill.
Darting out of the yard, Phil ran plump into someone, and halted
sharply with an earnest apology.
"Seems to me you're in a terrible rush about something. Where you
"Hello, Teddy, that you?"
"It's me," answered Teddy ungrammatically.
"I'm on my way to school."
"Never could understand why anybody should want to run when he's
going to school.  Now, I always run when I start off after
school's out.  What you doing here?" demanded the boy, drawing
his eyelids down into a squint.
"I've been chopping some wood for Mrs. Cahill."
"Huh!  What's the matter with the bear this morning?"
Teddy jerked a significant thumb in the direction of Phil's
former home.
"Bear's got a grouch on a rod wide this morning."
"Oh, you mean Uncle Abner," answered Phil, his face clouding.
"I just dropped in to see if you were ready to go to school. He
yelled at me like he'd gone crazy."
"That all?" grinned the other boy.
"No.  He chased me down the road till his game knee gave out;
then he fell down."
Phil could not repress a broad grin at this news.
"Good thing for me that I could run.  He'd have given me a
walloping for sure if he'd caught me.  I'll bet that stick hurts
when it comes down on a fellow.  Don't it, Phil?"
"I should think it would.  I have never felt it, but I have had
some pretty narrow escapes.  What did the folks you are living
with say when you got home all mud last night?"
Teddy grinned a sheepish sort of grin.
"Told me I'd better go out in the horse barn--said my particular
style of beauty was better suited to the stable than to the
"Well, no, not so as you might notice it.  I went down to the
creek and went in swimming, clothes and all.  That was the
easiest way.  You see, I could wash the mud off my clothes and
myself all at the same time."
"It's a wonder they let you in at all, then."
"They didn't; at least not until I had wrung the water out of my
trousers and twisted my hair up into a regular top-knot.  Then I
crawled in behind the kitchen stove and got dried out after a
while.  But I got my supper.  I always do."
"Yes; I never knew you to go without meals."
"Sorry you ain't going to the circus tomorrow, Phil."
"I am.  Teddy, I'm free.  I can do as I like now.  Yes, I'll go
to the circus with you, and maybe if I can earn some money
tonight I'll treat you to red lemonade and peanuts."
"Hooray!" shouted Teddy, tossing his hat high in the air.
THE CIRCUS COMES TO TOWN
The Sparling Combined Shows came rumbling into Edmeston at about
three o'clock the next morning.  But, early as was the hour, two
boys sat on the Widow Cahill's door-yard fence watching the
wagons go by.
The circus was one of the few road shows that are now traveling
through the country, as distinguished from the great modern
organizations that travel by rail with from one to half a dozen
massive trains.  The Sparling people drove from town to town.
They carried twenty-five wagons, besides a band wagon, a
wild-west coach and a calliope.
"Phil!  Phil!  Look!" exclaimed Teddy, clutching at his
companion's coat sleeve, as two hulking, swaying figures appeared
out of the shadows of the early morning.
"Elephants!  There's two of them."
"Ain't that great?  I didn't suppose they'd have any elephants.
Wonder if there's any lions and tigers in those big wagons."
"Of course there are.  Didn't you see pictures of them on the
bills, Teddy?"
"I don't know.  Dan Marts, the postmaster, says you can't set any
store by the pictures.  He says maybe they've got the things you
see in the pictures, and maybe they haven't.  There's a camel!
Look at it!  How'd you like to ride on that hump all day?"
questioned Teddy gleefully.
"Shouldn't like it at all."
"I read in my geography that they ride on them all the time on
the--on--on Sarah's Desert."
"Oh, you mean the Sahara Desert--that's what you mean," laughed
"Well, maybe."
"I should rather ride an elephant.  See, it's just like a rocking
chair.  I could almost go to sleep watching them move along."
"I couldn't," declared Teddy.  "I couldn't any more go to sleep
when a circus is going by than I could fly without wings."
"See, there comes a herd of ponies.  Look how small they are. Not
much bigger than St. Bernard dogs.  They could walk right under
the elephants and not touch them."
"Where do they all sleep?" wondered Teddy.
"Who, the ponies?"
"No, of course not.  The people."
"I don't know unless they sleep in the cages with the animals,"
laughed Phil.  "Some of the folks appear to be sleeping on the
"I'd be willing to go without sleep if I could be a showman,"
mused Teddy.  "Wouldn't you?"
"Sure," agreed Phil.  "Hello!  There come some more wagons. Come
on!  We'll run down to meet them."
"No; Let's go over to the grounds where the circus is coming off.
They'll be putting up the tents first thing we know."
"That's so, and I want to be around.  You going to work any,
"Not I.  I'm going to see the show, but you don't catch me
carrying pails of water for the elephants for a ticket of
admission that don't admit you to anything except a stand-up. I
can stand up cheaper than that."
Both boys slipped from the fence, and, setting off at a jog trot,
began rapidly overhauling and passing the slow-moving wagons with
their tired horses and more tired drivers.
By the time Teddy and Phil reached the circus grounds several
wagons were already there.  Shouts sprang up from all parts of
the field, while half a dozen men began measuring off the ground
in the dim morning light, locating the best places in which to
pitch the tents.  Here and there they would drive in a stake, on
one of which they tied a piece of newspaper.
"Wonder what that's for," thought Phil aloud.
"Hey, what's the paper tied on the peg for?" shouted Teddy to a
passing showman.
"That's the front door, sonny."
"Funniest looking front door I ever saw," grunted Teddy.
"He means that's the place where the people enter and leave their
"Oh, yes.  That's what they call the 'Main Entrance,'" nodded
Teddy. "I've seen it, but I don't usually go in that way."
With the early dawn figures began emerging from several of the
wagons.  They were a sleepy looking lot, and for a time stood
about in various attitudes, yawning, stretching their arms and
rubbing their eyes.
"Hey, boy, what town is this?" questioned a red-haired youth,
dragging himself toward the two lads.
"Oh, yes.  I remember; I was here once before."
"With a show?" asked Teddy.
"Yes, with a Kickapoo Indian medicine man.  And he was bad
medicine. Say, where can I wash my countenance?"
"Come on; I'll show you," exclaimed Teddy and Phil in the same
They led the way to the opposite side of the field, where there
was a stream of water.  While the circus boy was making his
morning toilet the lads watched him in admiring silence.
"What do you do?" ventured Phil.
"I perform on the rings."
"Up in the air?"
"Ever fall off?"
"I get my bumps," grinned the red-haired boy.  "My name is Rodney
Palmer.  What's your names?"
They told him.
"We're going to be circus men, too," Teddy informed him, but the
announcement did not seem to stir a deep interest in the circus
boy. He had heard other boys say the same thing.  "Is it very
"Worst ever."
"When do you sleep?"
"When we ain't awake."
"And you perform on the flying rings?"
Rodney nodded his head indifferently.
"I should think you'd burn the tent up with that head of red
hair," grinned Teddy.
Instead of getting angry at the boy's thrust, Rodney glanced at
Teddy with a half questioning look in his eyes, then burst out
"You're a cheerful idiot, aren't you?" he twinkled.  "I'll tell
you why I don't.  Confidentially, you know?"
"I wear a wig when I'm performing.  Mebby if it wasn't for that I
might set something on fire.  I must get over on the lot now."
"You're in a lot already," Teddy informed him.
"We call the place where we pitch the tents 'the lot.'  The cook
tent must be up by this time, and I'm half starved.  The
performance was so late yesterday afternoon that they had the
cook tent down before I got my supper.  Will you come along?"
"Do you think there is anything I could do to earn a ticket to
the show today?" asked Phil.
"Yes, there's most always something for a boy to do."
"Whom do I ask about it?"
"Go see the boss canvasman.  I'll point him out to you as we go
"Thank you.  You want to see him, too, Teddy?"
"No; I don't have to."
"That's him over there.  He's a grouch, but just don't let him
bluff you.  Yes, the cook tent's about ready.  I'll sneak in and
hook something before breakfast; then mebby I'll come back and
talk with you."
"We'll look for you in the show this afternoon," said Phil.
"All right, if I see you I'll swing my hand to you," Rodney
replied, starting for the cook tent, where the meals were served
to the show people.
"Now, I'm going to see that boss canvasman," announced Phil.
"See, they are laying the pieces of the tents flat on the ground.
I suppose they fasten them all together when they get them
placed, then raise them up on the poles."
"I guess so.  I don't care much so long as I don't have to do
"Teddy Tucker, actually you are the laziest boy I ever knew. Why
don't you brace up?"
"Don't I have just as good a time and better, than you do?"
"Guess you do."
"Don't I get just as much to eat?"
"I presume so," admitted Phil.
"Don't I see all the shows that come to town, and go to all the
"Then, what's the use of being any more'n lazy?"
Teddy's logic was too much for his companion, and Phil laughed
"Look, the elephant is butting one of the wagons," cried Teddy.
"No, they are using the elephant to push the cage around in
place. I wonder what's in it," said Phil.
A roar that fairly made the ground shake answered Phil's
question. The cage in question held a lion, and a big, ugly one
if his voice was any indication.  The great elephant, when the
cage was being placed, would, at a signal from its keeper, place
its ponderous head against one side of the cage and push, while a
driver would steer the wagon by taking hold of the end of the
It was a novel sight for the two boys, and they watched it with
the keenest interest.  A man dressed in riding clothes, carrying
a short crop in his hand, was observing the operations with equal
interest.  He was James Sparling, the proprietor and manager of
the Great Combined Shows, but the lads were unaware of that fact.
Even had they known, it is doubtful if Mr. Sparling would have
been of sufficient attraction to draw their attention from the
working elephant.
All at once there was a warning shout from Mr. Sparling.
The men set up a yell, followed by a sudden scurrying from the
immediate vicinity of the cage that the elephant had been
shunting about.
"Stop it!  Brace it!" bellowed the owner of the show, making
frantic motions with his free hand, cutting circles and dashes in
the air with the short crop held in the other.
"What's the row?" wondered Teddy.
"I--I don't know," stammered Phil.
"The elephant's tipping the lion cage over!" shouted someone.
"Run for your lives!"
For once in his life Teddy Tucker executed a lightning-like
movement. He was one of several dark streaks on the landscape
running as if Wallace, the biggest lion in captivity, were in
reality hard upon his heels.  As he ran, Teddy uttered a howl
that could have been heard from one end of the circus lot to the
A few of the more fearless ones, the old hands of the show, did
not attempt to run.  Instead they stood still, fairly holding
their breaths, waiting to see what would happen next.
Mr. Sparling was too far away to be able to do anything to
prevent the catastrophe that was hanging over them, but it did
not prevent him from yelling like a madman at the inactive
employees of the show.
At the first cry--the instant he comprehended what was
happening-- Phil Forrest moved every bit as quickly as had his
companion, though he leaped in the opposite direction.
All about on the ground lay tent poles of various length and
thickness, side poles, quarter poles and the short side poles
used to hold the tent walls in place.  These were about twenty
feet in length and light enough to be easily handled.
With ready resourcefulness and quick comprehension, Phil pounced
upon one of these and darted toward the cage which was toppling
over in his direction.
The roof of the lion cage that housed Wallace projected over the
edge some six inches, and this had caught the keen eyes of the
lad at the first alarm.  His plan had been formed in a flash.
He shot one end of the side pole up under the projecting roof,
jammed the other end into the ground, throwing his whole weight
upon the foot of the pole to hold it in place.
For an instant the tent pole bent like a bow under the pull of
the archer.  It seemed as if it must surely snap under the
terrific strain.
Phil saw this, too.  Now that the foot of the pole was firmly
imbedded in the ground, there was no further need for him to hold
it down.  He sprang under the pole with the swaying cage directly
over him, grabbed the pole at the point where it was arching so
dangerously, and pulling himself from the ground, held to the
slippery stick desperately.
Light as he was the boy's weight saved the pole.  It bent no
The cage swayed from side to side, threatening to topple over at
one end or the other.
"Get poles under the ends," shouted the boy in a shrill voice. "I
can't hold it here all day."
"Get poles, you lazy good-for-nothings!" bellowed the owner.
"Brace those ends.  Look out for the elephant.  Don't you see
he's headed for the cage again?"
Orders flew thick and fast, but through it all Phil Forrest hung
grimly to the side pole, taking a fresh overhand hold, now and
then, as his palms slipped down the painted stick.
Now that he had shown the way, others sprang to his assistance.
Half a dozen poles were thrust up under the roof and the cage
began slowly settling back the other way.
"Hadn't you better have some poles braced against the other side,
sir?" suggested Phil, touching his hat to Mr. Sparling, who, he
had discovered, was some person in authority.  "The cage may tip
clear over on the other side, or it may drop so heavily on the
wheels as to break the axles."
"Right.  Brace the off side.  That's right.  Now let it down
slowly. Not so hard on the nigh side there.  Ease off there,
Bill.  Push, Patsy. What do you think this is--a game of croquet?
There you go.  Right. Now let's see if you woodenheads know
enough to keep the wagon right side up."
Mr. Sparling took off his hat and wiped the perspiration from his
forehead, while Phil stood off calmly surveying the men who were
straightening the wagon, but with more caution than they had
exercised before.
"Come here, boy."
Someone touched Phil on the arm.
"What is it?"
"Boss wants to speak to you."
"Boss Sparling, the fellow over there with the big voice and the
Phil walked over and touched his hat to Mr. Sparling.
The showman looked the lad over from head to foot.
"What's your name?"  He shot the question at the lad as if angry
about something, and he undoubtedly was.
"Phil Forrest."
"Do they grow your kind around here?"
"I can't say, sir."
"If they do, I'd like to hire a dozen or more of them.  You've
got more sense than any boy of your age I ever saw.  How old are
"Huh!  I wish I had him!" growled Mr. Sparling.  "What do you
"I should like to have a chance to earn a pass to the show this
afternoon.  Rodney Palmer said the boss canvasman might give me a
chance to earn one."
"Earn one?  Earn one?" Mr. Sparling's voice rose to a roar again.
"What in the name of Old Dan Rice do you think you've been doing?
Here you've kept a cage with a five-thousand-dollar lion from
tipping over, to say nothing of the people who might have been
killed had the brute got out, and you want to know how you can
earn a pass to the show?  What d'ye think of that?" and the owner
appealed helplessly to an assistant who had run across the lot,
having been attracted to the scene by the uproar.
The assistant grinned.
"He's too modest to live."
"Pity modesty isn't more prevalent in this show, then.  How many
do you want?  Have a whole section if you say the word."
"How many are there in a section?" asked Phil.
" 'Bout a hundred seats."
Phil gasped.
"I--I guess two will be enough," he made answer.
"Here you are," snapped the owner, thrusting a card at the lad,
on which had been scribbled some characters, puzzling to the
uninitiated.  "If you want anything else around this show you
just ask for it, young man.  Hey, there!  Going to be all day
getting that canvas up?  Don't you know we've got a parade coming
along in a few hours?"
Phil Forrest, more light of heart than in many days, turned away
to acquaint his companion of his good fortune.  Teddy Tucker was
making his way cautiously back to the scene of the excitement of
a few moments before.
"Did he get away?" Teddy questioned, ready to run at the drop of
the hat should the danger prove to be still present.
"Who, the manager?"
"No, the lion."
"He's in the cage where he's been all the time.  They haven't
opened it yet, but I guess he's all right.  Say, Teddy!"
"I've got a pass to the show for two people for both
performances--this afternoon and tonight."
The interest that the announcement brought to Teddy's eyes died
away almost as soon as it appeared.
"Am I going?  I should say so.  Want to go in with me on my pass,
The lad hitched his trousers, took a critical squint at the
canvas that was slowly mounting the center pole to the
accompaniment of creaking ropes, groaning tackle and confused
"They're getting the menagerie tent up.  I'll bet it's going to
be a dandy show," he vouchsafed.  "How'd you get the tickets?"
"Manager gave them to me."
"I did a little work for him.  Helped get the lion's cage
straightened up.  How about it--are you going in on my pass?"
"N-o-o," drawled Teddy.  "Might get me into bad habits to go in
on a pass.  I'd rather sneak in under the tent when the boss
isn't looking."
WHEN THE BANDS PLAYED
Phil started for the Widow Cahill's on the run after having
procured his tickets.  "Here's a ticket for the circus, Mrs.
Cahill," he shouted, bursting into the room, with excited,
flushed face.
"What's this you say--the circus?  Land sakes, I haven't seen one
since I was--well, since I was a girl.  I don't know."
"You'll go, won't you?" urged Phil.
"Of course, I'll go," she made haste to reply, noting the
disappointment in his face over her hesitation.  "And thank you
"Shall I come and get you, Mrs. Cahill, or can you get over to
the circus grounds alone?"
"Don't worry about me, my boy.  I'll take care of myself."
"Your seat will be right next to mine, and we can talk while we
are watching the performers."
"Yes; you run along now.  Here's a quarter for spending money.
Never mind thanking me.  Just take it and have a good time.
Where's your friend?"
"Over on the lot."
"He going in with you, too?"
"Oh, no.  Teddy is too proud to go in that way.  He crawls in
under the tent," laughed Phil, running down the steps and setting
off for the circus grounds with all speed.
When he arrived there he saw at once that something was going on.
The tents were all in place, the little white city erected with
as much care and attention to detail as if the show expected to
remain in Edmeston all summer.  The lad could scarcely make
himself believe that, only a few hours before, this very lot had
been occupied by the birds alone.  It was a marvel to him, even
in after years, when he had become as thoroughly conversant with
the details of a great show as any man in America.
Just now there was unusual activity about the grounds.  Men in
gaudy uniforms, clowns in full makeup, and women with long
glistening trains, glittering with spangles from head to feet,
were moving about, while men were decorating the horses with
bright blankets and fancy headdress.
"What are they going to do?" asked Phil of a showman.
"Going to parade."
"Oh, yes, that's so; I had forgotten about that."
"Hello, boy--I've forgotten your name--"
"Forrest," explained Phil, turning.  The speaker was Mr.
Sparling's assistant, whom the lad had seen just after saving the
lion cage from turning over.
"Can you blow a horn as well as you can stop a wagon?"
"Depends upon what kind of a horn.  I think I can make as much
noise on a fish horn as anyone else."
"That'll do as well as anything else.  Want to go in the parade?"
"I'd love to!"  The color leaped to the cheeks of Phil Forrest
and a sparkle to his eyes.  This was going beyond his fondest
The assistant motioned to a clown.
"Fix this boy up in some sort of a rig.  I'm going to put him in
the Kazoo Band.  Bring him back here when he is ready.  Be
A long, yellow robe was thrown about the boy, a peaked cap thrust
on his head, after which a handful of powder was slapped on his
face and rubbed down with the flat of the clown's hand.  The fine
dust got into the lad's nostrils and throat, causing him to
sneeze until the tears rolled down his cheeks, streaking his
makeup like a freshet through a plowed field.
"Good," laughed the clown.  "That's what your face needs. You'd
make a good understudy for Chief Rain-In-The-Face. Now hustle
Phil picked up the long skirts and ran full speed to the place
where the assistant had been standing.  There he waited until the
assistant returned from a journey to some other part of the lot.
"That's right; you know how to obey orders," he nodded.  "That's
a good clown makeup.  Did Mr. Miaco put those streaks on your
"No, I sneezed them there," answered Phil, with a sheepish grin.
The assistant laughed heartily.  Somehow, he had taken a sudden
liking to this boy.
"Do you live at home, Forrest?"
"No; I have no home now."
"Here's a fish horn.  Now get up in the band wagon--no, not the
big one, I mean the clowns' band wagon with the hayrack on it.
When the parade starts blow your confounded head off if you want
to.  Make all the noise you can.  You'll have plenty of company.
When the parade breaks up, just take off your makeup and turn it
over to Mr. Miaco."
"You mean these clothes?"
"Yes.  They're a part of the makeup.  You'll have to wash the
makeup off your face.  I don't expect you to return the powder to
us," grinned the assistant humorously.
The clowns were climbing to the hayrack.  A bugle had blown as a
signal that the parade was ready to move.  Phil had not seen
Teddy Tucker since returning to the lot.  He did not know where
the boy was, but he was quite sure that Teddy was not missing any
of the fun.  Tucker had been around circuses before, and knew how
to make the most of his opportunities.  And he was doing so now.
"Ta ra, ta ra, ta ra!" sang the bugle.
Crash!  answered the cymbals and the bass drums.  The snare drums
buzzed a long, thrilling roll; then came the blare of the brass
as the whole band launched into a lively tune such as only circus
bands know how to play.
The parade had begun to move.
It was a thrilling moment--the moment of all moments of Phil
Forrest's life.
The clowns' wagon had been placed well back in the line, so as
not to interfere with the music of the band itself.  But Phil did
not care where he was placed.  He only knew that he was in a
circus parade, doing his part with the others, and that, so far
as anyone knew, he was as much a circus man as any of them.
As the cavalcade drew out into the main street and straightened
away, Phil was amazed to see what a long parade it was.  It
looked as if it might reach the whole length of the village.
The spring sun was shining brightly, lighting up the line,
transforming it into a moving, flashing, brilliant ribbon of
light and color.
"Splendid!" breathed the boy, removing the fish horn from his
lips for a brief instant, then blowing with all his might again.
As the wagons moved along he saw many people whom he knew.  As a
matter of fact, Phil knew everyone in the village, but there were
hundreds of people who had driven in from the farms whom he did
not know.  Nor did anyone appear to recognize him.
"If they only knew, wouldn't they be surprised?" chuckled the
lad. "Hello, there's Mrs. Cahill."
The widow was standing on her front door step with a dishtowel in
In the excess of his excitement, Phil stood up, waving his horn
and yelling.
She heard him--as everybody else within a radius of a quarter of
a mile might have--and she recognized the voice.  Mrs. Cahill
brandished the dishtowel excitedly.
"He's a fine boy," she glowed.  "And he's having the first good
time he's had in five years."
The Widow Cahill was right.  For the first time in all these
years, since the death of his parents, Phil Forrest was carefree
and perfectly happy.
The clowns on the wagon with him were uproariously funny.  When
the wagon stopped now and then, one whom Phil recognized as the
head clown, Mr. Miaco, would spring to the edge of the rack and
make a stump speech in pantomime, accompanied by all the gestures
included in the pouring and drinking of a glass of water.  So
humorous were the clown's antics that the spectators screamed
with laughter.
Suddenly the lad espied that which caused his own laughter to die
away, and for the moment he forgot to toot the fish horn.  The
parade was passing his former home, and there, standing hunched
forward, leaning on his stick and glaring at the procession from
beneath bushy eyebrows, stood Phil's uncle, Abner Adams.
Phil's heart leaped into his throat; at least that was the
sensation that he experienced.
"I--I hope he doesn't know me," muttered the lad, shrinking back
a little.  "But I'm a man now.  I don't care.  He's driven me out
and he has no right to say a thing."
The lad lost some of his courage, however, when the procession
halted, and he found that his wagon was directly in front of Mr.
Adams' dooryard, with his decrepit uncle not more than twenty
feet away from him.  The surly, angry eyes of Abner Adams seemed
to be burning through Phil's makeup, and the lad instinctively
shrank back ever so little.
However, at that instant the boy's attention was attracted to
another part of the wagon.  The head clown stepped from the wagon
and, with dignified tread, approached Abner Adams.  He grasped
the old man by the hand, which he shook with great warmth, making
a courtly bow.
At first Abner Adams was too surprised to protest.  Then,
uttering an angry snarl, he threw the clown off, making a vicious
pass at him with his heavy stick.
The clown dodged the blow, and made a run for the wagon, which
was now on the move again.
Phil breathed a sigh of relief.  The people had roared at the
funny sight of the clown shaking hands with the crabbed old man;
but to Phil Forrest there had been nothing of humor in it. The
sight of his uncle brought back too many unhappy memories.
The lad soon forgot his depression, however, in the rapid changes
that followed each other in quick succession as on a moving-
picture film.
Reaching the end of the village street the procession was obliged
to turn and retrace its steps over the same ground until it
reached the business part of the town, where it would turn off
and pass through some of the side streets.
Now there were two lines, moving in opposite directions.  This
was of interest to Phil, enabling him, as it did, to get a good
look at the other members of the troupe.  Mr. Sparling was riding
ahead in a carriage drawn by four splendid white horses, driven
by a coachman resplendent in livery and gold lace, while the
bobbing plumes on the heads of the horses added to the
impressiveness of the picture.
"I'd give anything in the world to be able to ride in a carriage
like that," decided Phil.  "Maybe someday I shall.  We'll see."
Now came the elephants, lumbering along on velvet feet.  On the
second one there crouched a figure that somehow seemed strangely
familiar to Phil Forrest.  The figure was made up to represent a
A peculiar gesture of one of the frog's legs revealed the
identity of the figure beneath the mask.
"Teddy!" howled Phil.
"Have a frog's leg," retorted Teddy, shaking one of them
vigorously at the motley collection of clowns.
"Not eating frogs legs today," jeered a clown, as Teddy went
swinging past them, a strange, grotesque figure on the back of
the huge, hulking beast.
The clowns' wagon was just on the point of turning when the men
heard a loud uproar far down the line.  At first they thought it
was a part of the show, but it soon became apparent that
something was wrong.
Phil instinctively let the horn fall away from his lips.  He
peered curiously over the swaying line to learn what, if
anything, had gone wrong.
He made out the cause of the trouble almost at once.  A pony with
a woman on its back had broken from the line, and was plunging
toward them at a terrific pace.  She appeared to have lost all
control of the animal, and the pony, which proved to be an ugly
broncho, was bucking and squealing as it plunged madly down the
The others failed to see what Phil had observed almost from the
first.  The bit had broken in the mouth of the broncho and the
reins hung loosely in the woman's helpless hands.
They were almost up with the clowns' wagon when the woman was
seen to sway dizzily in her saddle, as the leather slipped
beneath her. Then she plunged headlong to the ground.
Instead of falling in a heap, the circus woman, with head
dragging, bumping along the ground, was still fast to the pony.
"Her foot is caught in the stirrup!" yelled half a dozen men at
once, but not a man of them made an effort to rescue her. Perhaps
this was because none of the real horsemen of the show were near
enough to do so.
Mr. Sparling, however, at the first alarm, had leaped from his
carriage, and, thrusting a rider from his mount, sprang into the
saddle and came tearing down the line in a cloud of dust.  He was
bearing down on the scene at express train speed.
"The woman will be killed!"
"Stop him!  Stop him!"
"Stop him yourself!"
But not a man made an effort to do anything.
It had all occurred in a few seconds, but rapidly as the events
succeeded each other, Phil Forrest seemed to be the one among
them who retained his presence of mind.
He fairly launched himself into the air as the ugly broncho shot
alongside the clowns' wagon.
PROVING HIS METTLE
Familiar as they were with daring deeds, those of the circus
people who witnessed Phil Forrest's dive gasped.
They expected to see the boy fall beneath the feet of the
plunging pony, where he would be likely to be trampled and kicked
But Phil had looked before he leaped.  He had measured his
distance well--had made up his mind exactly what he was going to
do, or rather what he was going to try to do.
The pony, catching a brief glimpse of the dark figure that was
being hurled through the air directly toward him, made a swift
leap to one side.  But the animal was not quick enough.  The boy
landed against the broncho with a jolt that nearly knocked the
little animal over, while to Phil the impact could not have been
much more severe, it seemed to him, had he collided with a
"Hang on!" howled a voice from the wagon.
That was exactly what he intended to do.
The cloud of dust, with Mr. Sparling in the center of it, had not
reached them, but his keen eyes already had observed what was
"G-g-g-grab the woman!" shouted Phil.
His left arm had been thrown about the broncho's neck, while his
right hand was groping frantically for the animal's nose. But
during all this time the pony was far from idle.  He was plunging
like a ship in a gale, cracking the whip with Phil Forrest until
it seemed as if every bone in the lad's body would be broken.  He
could hear his own neck snap with every jerk.
With a howl Miaco, the head clown, launched himself from the
wagon, too.  Darting in among the flying hoofs--there seemed to
be a score of them--he caught the woman, jerked her foot free of
the stirrup and dragged her quickly from her perilous position.
"She's free.  Let go!" he roared to the boy holding the pony.
But by this time Phil had fastened his right hand on the pony's
nostrils, and with a quick pressure shut off the animal's wind.
He had heard the warning cry.  The lad's grit had been aroused,
however, and he was determined that he would not let go until he
should have conquered the fighting broncho.
With a squeal of rage, the pony leaped sideways.  A deep ditch
led along by the side of the road, but this the enraged animal
had not noticed.  Into it he went, kicking and fighting, pieces
of Phil's yellow robe streaming from his hoofs.
The lad's body was half under the neck of the pony, but he was
clinging to the neck and the nose of the beast with desperate
"Get the boy out of there!" thundered Mr. Sparling, dashing up
and leaping from his pony.  "Want to let him be killed?"
By this time others had ridden up, and some of the real horsemen
in the outfit sprang off and rushed to Phil Forrest's assistance.
Ropes were cast over the flying hoofs before the men thought it
wise to get near them.  Then they hauled Phil out, very much the
worse for wear.
In the meantime Mr. Sparling's carriage had driven up and he was
helping the woman in.
"Is the boy hurt?" he called.
"No, I'm all right, thank you," answered Phil, smiling bravely,
though he was bruised from head to foot and his clothing hung in
tatters.  His peaked clown's cap someone picked up in a field
over the fence and returned to him.  That was about all that was
left of Phil Forrest's gaudy makeup, save the streaks on his
face, which by now had become blotches of white and red.
The clowns picked him up and boosted him to the wagon, jabbering
like a lot of sparrows perched on a telephone wire.
"See you later!" shouted the voice of Mr. Sparling as he drove
rapidly away.
Phil found his horn, and despite his aches and pains he began
blowing it lustily.  The story of his brave rescue had gone on
ahead, however, and as the clowns' wagon moved on it was greeted
by tremendous applause.
The onlookers had no difficulty in picking out the boy who had
saved the woman's life, and somehow the word had been passed
around as to his identity.
"Hooray for Phil Forrest!" shouted the multitude.
Phil flushed under the coating of powder and paint, and sought to
crouch down in the wagon out of sight.
"Here, get up there where they can see you!" admonished a clown.
"If you're going to be a showman you mustn't be afraid to get
yourself in the spotlight."
Two of them hoisted the blushing Phil to their shoulders and
broke into a rollicking song, swaying their bodies in imitation
of the movements of an elephant as they sang.
At this the populace fairly howled with delight.
"He's the boy, even if he ain't purty to look at," jeered someone
in the crowd.
"Handsome is as handsome does!" retorted a clown in a loud voice,
and the people cheered.
After this the parade went on without further incident, though
there could be no doubt that the exciting dash and rescue by one
of their own boys had aroused the town to a high pitch of
excitement.  And the showmen smiled, for they knew what that
"Bet we'll have a turn-away this afternoon," announced a clown.
"Looks that way," agreed another, "and all on account of the
"What's a turn-away?" asked Phil.
"That's when there are more people want to get in than the tent
will hold.  And it means, too, that the boss will be good natured
till it rains again, and the wagons get stuck in the mud so that
we'll make the next town behind time.  At such times he can make
more noise than the steam calliope."
"He seems to me to be a pretty fine sort of a man, even if he is
gruff," suggested Phil.
"The best ever," agreed several clowns.  "You'll look a long way
before you'll find a better showman, or a better man to his help,
than Jim Sparling.  Ever been in the show business, kid?"
Phil shook his head.
"Anybody'd think you always had been, the way you take hold of
things. I'll bet you'll be in it before you are many years
"I'd like to," glowed the lad.
"Ask the boss."
"No, he wouldn't want me.  There is nothing I could do now, I
Further conversation was interrupted by the bugle's song
announcing the disbanding of the parade, the right of the line
having already reached the circus lot.
The clowns piled from the hayrack like a cataract, the cataract
having all the colors of the rainbow.
Phil, not to be behind, followed suit, though he did not quite
understand what the rush was about.  He ran until he caught up
"What's the hurry about?" he questioned.
"Parade's over.  Got to hurry and get dinner, so as to be ready
for the afternoon performance."
All hands were heading for the dressing tent in a mad rush.
Phil was halted by the assistant manager.
The lad glanced down rather sheepishly at his costume, which was
hanging in tatters, then up at the quizzically smiling face of
the showman.
"I--I'm sorry I've spoiled it, sir, but I couldn't help it."
"Don't worry about that, young man.  How did it happen?" he
questioned, pretending not to know anything about the occurrence
in which Phil had played a leading part.
"Well, you see, there was a horse ran away, and I happened to get
in the way of it.  I--"
"Yes, Forrest, I understand all about it.  Somebody did something
to that animal to make it run away and the boss is red headed
"I--I didn't."
"No, that's right.  It was lucky that there was one person in the
parade who had some sense left, or there would have been a dead
woman with this outfit," growled the assistant.
"Was she badly hurt?"
"No.  Only bruised up a bit.  These show people get used to hard
"I'm glad she is all right.  Who is she?"
"Don't you know?"
"That was Mr. Sparling's wife whose life you saved, and I reckon
the boss will have something to say to you when he gets sight of
MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE ELEPHANTS
"Is it possible?  I didn't know that," marveled the boy. "And
does she perform?"
"Everybody works in this outfit, young man," laughed the
assistant, "as you will learn if you hang around long enough.
Going to the show?"
"Got seats?"
"Mr. Sparling provided me with tickets, thank you.  But I've got
to get home first and put on some other clothes.  This suit is
about done for, isn't it?"
"I should say it was.  You did that stopping the horse, didn't
Phil nodded.
"Boss will buy you a new suit for that."
"Oh, no; I couldn't allow him to do that," objected Phil.
"Well, you are a queer youngster.  So long.  I'll see you when
you come in this afternoon.  Wait, let me see your tickets."
The lad handed them over wonderingly, at which his questioner
nodded approvingly.
"They're good seats.  Hope you will enjoy the show."
"Thank you; I am sure I shall," answered Phil, touching his hat
and starting on a run for home.
Arriving there, Mrs. Cahill met him and threw up her hands in
horror when she observed the condition of his clothes.
"I am afraid they are gone for good," grinned Phil rather
"No.  You leave them with me.  I'll fix them up for you.  I heard
how you saved that show woman's life.  That was fine, my boy. I'm
proud of you, that I am.  You did more than all those circus men
could do, and the whole town is talking about it."
"If you are going to the show you had better be getting ready,"
urged Phil, wishing to change the subject.
"All right, I will.  I'll fix your clothes when I get back. Will
you be home to supper?"
"I don't know for sure.  If I can I'll be back in time, but
please don't wait for me.  Here is your ticket."
The lad hurried to the room the good woman had set aside for him
and quickly made the change of clothing.  He was obliged to
change everything he had on, for even his shirt had been torn in
his battle with the broncho.  After bathing and putting on the
fresh clothes, Phil hurried from the house, that he might miss
nothing of the show.
The sideshow band was blaring brazenly when he reached the lot.
The space in front of the main entrance was packed with people,
many of whom pointed to him, nodding their heads and directing
the attention of their companions to the lad.
Phil wished he might be able to skulk in by the back door and
thus avoid their attention, but as this was impossible, he pulled
his hat down over his eyes and worked his way slowly toward the
front of the crowd.
Getting near the entrance, he saw Mr. Sparling's assistant. The
latter, chancing to catch sight of Phil, motioned him to crawl
under the ropes and come in.  The boy did so gratefully.
"The doors are not open yet, but you may go in.  You will have
time to look over the animals before the crowd arrives, then you
can reach your seat before the others get in.  Please let me see
those checks once more."
The assistant made a mental note of the section and number of the
seats for future reference and handed back the coupons.
Phil stole into the menagerie tent, relieved to be away from the
gaze and comments of the crowd that was massed in front.
"Gracious, I'm afraid I wouldn't make a very good circus man. I
hate to have everybody looking at me as if I were some natural or
unnatural curiosity.  Wonder if I will know any of the show
people when they are made up, as they call it, and performing in
the ring?  I shouldn't wonder if they didn't know me in my best
clothes, though," grinned the boy.
Phil had had the forethought to bring a few lumps of sugar in his
pocket.  Entering the menagerie tent, he quickly made his way to
the place where the elephants were chained, giving each one of
the big beasts a lump.  He felt no fear of them and permitted
them to run their sensitive trunks over him and into his pockets,
where they soon found the rest of the sugar.
After disposing of the sweets, both beasts emitted a loud
trumpeting. At such close quarters the noise they made seemed to
shake the ground.
"Why do they do that?" questioned Phil of the keeper.
"That's their way of thanking you for the sugar.  You've made
friends of both of them for life.  They'll never forget you, even
if they don't see you for several seasons."
"Do they like peanuts?"
"Do they?  Just try them."
Phil ran to a snack stand at the opposite side of the tent and
bought five cents' worth of peanuts, then hurried back to the
elephants with the package.
"What are their names?"
"The big one is Emperor and the smaller one is called Jupiter,"
answered the keeper, who had already recognized his young
"Are they ever ugly?"
"Never have been.  But you can't tell.  An elephant is liable to
go bad most any time, then you--"
"But how can you tell, or can't you?"
"Most always, unless they are naturally bad."
"How do you know?"
"See that little slit on the cheek up there?"
"Yes," said Phil, peering at the great jowls wonderingly.
"Well, several days before they get in a tantrum you will see a
few tear drops--that's what I call them--oozing from that little
slit. I don't know whether it's water on the brain or what it is.
But when you see the tear drops you want to get from under and
chain Mr. Elephant down as quickly as possible.
"That is strange."
"Very.  But it's a sure sign.  Never knew it to fail, and I've
known some elephants in my time.  But Emperor and Jupiter never
have shed a tear drop since I've known them.  They are not the
crying kind, you know."
The lad nodded understandingly.
"How about the lions and the tigers--can you tell when they are
going to have bad spells?"
"Well," reflected the showman, "it's safe to say that they've
always got a grouch on.  The cats are always--"
"Yes.  All that sort of animals belong to the cat family and
they've got only one ambition in life."
"What's that?"
"To kill somebody or something."
"But their keepers--don't they become fond of their keepers or
The elephant tender laughed without changing the expression of
his face. His laugh was all inside of him, as Phil characterized
"Not they!  They may be afraid of their keeper, but they would as
soon chew him up as anybody else--I guess they would rather, for
they've always got a bone to pick with him."
"Do any of the men go in the cages and make the animals perform
"Oh, yes.  Wallace, the big lion over there, performs every
afternoon and night.  So does the tiger in the cage next to him."
Phil had dumped the bag of peanuts into his hat, which he held
out before him while talking.  Two squirming trunks had been busy
conveying the peanuts to the pink mouths of their owners, so that
by the time Phil happened to remember what he had brought them,
there was not a nut left in the hat.
He glanced up in surprise.
"Emperor, you are a greedy old elephant," laughed Phil, patting
Emperor trumpeted loudly, and the call was immediately taken up
even more loudly by his companion.
"No, you can't have any more," chided Phil.  "You will have
indigestion from what you've already eaten, I'm afraid. Behave,
and I'll bring you some more tonight if I come to the show," he
Two caressing trunks touched his hands, then traveled gently over
his cheeks.  They tickled, but Phil did not flinch.
"You could do most anything with them now, you see," nodded the
keeper.  "They'd follow you home if I would let them."
"Especially if my pockets were full of sweets."
"There's the animal trainer getting ready to go into the lion
cage, if you want to see him," the attendant informed him.
"Yes, I should like to.  And thank you very much for your
"You're welcome.  Come around again."
The boy hurried over to the lion cage.  The people were now
crowding into the menagerie tent in throngs.  There seemed to
Phil to be thousands already there.  But all eyes now being
centered on Wallace's cage, they had no time to observe Phil, for
which he was duly thankful.
The animal trainer, clad in red tights, his breast covered with
spangles, was already at the door of the cage, whip in hand. When
a sufficient crowd had gathered about him, he opened the door,
and, entering the cage threw wide the iron grating that shut
Wallace off from the door end of the wagon.  The big lion bounded
out with a roar that caused the people to crowd back
instinctively.
Then the trainer began putting the savage beast through its
paces, causing it to leap over his whip, jump through paper
hoops, together with innumerable other tricks that caused the
spectators to open their mouths in wonder.  All the time Wallace
kept up a continual snarling, interspersed now and then with a
roar that might have been heard a quarter of a mile away.
This was a part of the exhibition, as Phil shrewdly discovered.
The boy was a natural showman, though unaware of the fact. He
noted all the little fine points of the trainer's work with as
much appreciation as if he had himself been an animal trainer.
"I half believe I should like to try that myself," was his mental
conclusion.  "But I should want to make the experiment on a very
little lion at first.  If I got out with a whole skin I might
want to tackle something bigger.  I wonder if he is going into
the tiger cage?"
As if in answer to his question, an announcer shouted out the
information that the trainer would give an exhibition in the cage
of the tiger just before the evening performance.
"I'll have to see that," muttered Phil.  "Guess I had better get
in and find my seat now."
At the same time the crowd, understanding that the lion
performance was over, began crowding into the circus tent.
The band inside swung off into a sprightly tune and Phil could
scarcely repress the inclination to keep time to it with his
feet. Altogether, things were moving pretty well with Phil
Forrest. They had done so ever since he left home the day before.
In that one day he had had more fun than had come to him in many
But his happy day would soon be ended.  He sighed as he thought
of it. Then his face broke out into a sunny smile as he caught a
glimpse of the ropes and apparatus, seen dimly through the
afternoon haze, in the long circus tent.
As he gained the entrance between the two large tents he saw the
silk curtains at the far end of the circus arena fall apart,
while a troop of gayly caparisoned horses and armored riders
suddenly appeared through the opening.
The grand entry was beginning.
"Gracious, here the show has begun and I am not anywhere near my
seat," he exclaimed.  "But, if I am going to be late I won't be
alone.  There are a whole lot more of us that were too much
interested in the animal trainer to think to come in and get our
seats.  I guess I had better run.  I--"
Phil started to run, but he got no further than the start.
All at once his waist was encircled in a powerful grip and he
felt his feet leaving the ground.  Phil was being raised straight
up into the air by some strange force, the secret of which he did
not understand.
CHAPTER VIII
IN THE SAWDUST ARENA
The lad repressed an inclination to cry out, for the thing that
had encircled his waist and raised him up seemed to be tightening
A familiar voice just behind him served to calm Phil's disquieted
"Don't be frightened, kid.  It's only Emperor having a little
joke. He's a funny fellow," said the elephant's attendant.
Phil had read somewhere that elephants possessed a keen sense of
humor, and now he was sure of it.  But he never thought he would
have an opportunity to have the theory demonstrated on himself.
The elephants were on their way to participate in the grand
entry, and there was not a minute to spare now.  Emperor on his
way into the other tent had come across his new-found friend and
recognized him instantly, while Phil had not even heard the
approach of the elephants.
No sooner had the elephant discovered the lad than he picked him
up with his trunk, slowly hoisting the boy high in the air.
"Steady, Emperor!  Steady!" cautioned the attendant.  But Emperor
needed no admonition to deal gently with his young friend. He
handled Phil with almost the gentleness of a mother lifting a
Phil Forrest experienced a thrill that ran all through him when
he realized what was taking place.
"We can't stop to put you down now, my boy.  You'll have to go
through the performance with us.  Grab the head harness when he
lets you down on his head.  You can sit on the head without
danger, but keep hold of the harness with one hand.  I'll bet
you'll make a hit."
"I will if I fall off," answered Phil a bit unsteadily.
As it was, the unusual motion made him a little giddy.
"That's a good stunt.  Stick to him, Forrest," directed a voice
as they swept on toward the ring.
The voice belonged to Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show.  He
was quick to grasp the value of Phil's predicament--that is, its
value to the show as a drawing card.
By now the people began to understand that something unusual was
going on, and they asked each other what it was all about.
"It's Phil Forrest riding the elephant," shouted one of the lad's
school friends, recognizing him all at once.  "Hooray for Phil!"
There were many of the pupils from his school there, and the
howling and shouting that greeted him made the lad's cheeks burn.
But now, instead of wanting to crawl under something and hide,
Phil felt a thrill of pleasure, of pride in the achievement that
was denied to all the rest of his friends.
The inspiring music of the circus band, too, added to his
exhilaration. He felt like throwing up his hands and shouting.
Suddenly he felt something tugging at his coat pocket, and
glancing down gave a start as he discovered the inquisitive trunk
of Emperor thrust deep down in the pocket.
When the trunk came away it brought with it a lump of sugar that
Phil did not know he possessed.  The sugar was promptly conveyed
to the elephant's mouth, the beast uttering a loud scream of
satisfaction.
"Emperor, you rascal!" laughed Phil, patting the beast on the
Once more the trunk curled up in search of more sugar, but a
stern command from the trainer caused the beast to lower it
quickly. The time for play had passed.  The moment had arrived
for Emperor to do his work and he was not the animal to shirk his
act. In fact, he seemed to delight in it.  All elephants work
better when they have with them some human being or animal on
which they have centered their affections.  Sometimes it is a
little black and tan dog, sometimes a full-grown man.  In this
instance it happened to be a boy, and that boy Phil Forrest.
"Waltz!" commanded the trainer.
If Phil's head had swum before, it spun like a top now.  Round
and round pirouetted the huge beasts, keeping in perfect step
with the music of the band, and tighter and tighter did the lad
grip the head harness of old Emperor.  Phil closed his eyes after
a little because he had grown so dizzy that he feared he would
"Hang on, kid.  It'll be Christmas by and by," comforted the
trainer humorously.
"That's what I am trying to do," answered Phil a bit unsteadily.
"How's your head?"
"Whirling like a merry-go-round."
He heard the trainer chuckling.
The spectators were shouting out Phil's name all over the big
"Fine, fine!" chuckled James Sparling, rubbing his palms
together. "That ought to fill the tent tonight."
The spectators realized, too, that they were being treated to
something not down on the bills and their shouts and laughter
grew louder and louder.
"Do you think you could stand up on his head?" came the voice of
the trainer just loud enough for Phil to hear.
"Me?  Stand on the elephant's head?"
"Yes.  Think you can do it?"
"If I had a net underneath to catch me, maybe I'd try it."
"Emperor won't let you fall.  When I give the word he'll wrap his
trunk around your legs.  That will hold you steady from the waist
down.  If you can keep the rest of yourself from lopping over
you'll be all right.  It'll make a hit--see if it don't."
"I--I'll try it."
"Wait till I give the word, then get up on all fours, but don't
straighten up till you feel the trunk about you.  We'll make a
showman of you before you know it."
"I seem to be the whole show as it is," grumbled Phil.
"You are, just now--you and Emperor.  Good thing the other
performers are not in the ring, or they would all be jealous of
"I wish Uncle Abner could see me now.  Wouldn't he be mad!"
grinned Phil, as the memory of his crabbed relative came back to
him. "He'd come right out after me with his stick, he'd be so
angry.  But I guess Emperor wouldn't let him touch me," decided
the boy proudly, with an affectionate pat to which the elephant
responded with a cough that sounded not unlike the explosion of a
dynamite cartridge.
"All ready now.  Don't be afraid.  Hold each position till I give
you the word to change it."
"Ready," announced the lad.
"Emperor!  Jupiter!"
The twitching of a ponderous ear of each animal told that they
had heard and understood.
Phil had scrambled to all fours.
"Hold him, Emperor!"
The great trunk curled up, ran over the boy's legs and twined
"Up you go, kid!"
Phil raised himself fearlessly, straightened and stood full upon
his feet.  That strong grip on his legs gave him confidence and
told him he had nothing to fear.  All he would have to do would
be to keep his ears open for the trainer's commands both to
himself and the beast, and he would be all right.
He felt himself going up again.
The sensation was something akin to that which Phil had once
experienced when jumping off a haystack.  He felt as if his whole
body were being tickled by straws.
The elephants were rising on their hind legs, uttering shrill
screams and mighty coughs, as if enraged over the humiliation
that was being put upon them.
It seemed to Phil as if Emperor would never stop going up until
the lad's head was against the top of the tent.  He ventured to
What a distance it was!  Phil hastily directed his glances
At last the elephant had risen as high as he could go.  He was
standing almost straight up and down, and on his head the slender
figure of the boy appeared almost unreal to those off on the
Thunders of applause swept over the assemblage.  People rose up
in their seats, the younger ones hurling hats high in the air and
uttering catcalls and shrill whistles, until pandemonium reigned
under the "big top," as the circus tent proper is called by the
"Swing your hat at them!"
The trainer had to shout to make himself heard, and as it was
Phil caught the words as from afar off.
He took off his soft hat and waved it on high, gazing wonderingly
off over the seats.  He could distinguish nothing save a waving,
undulating mass of moving life and color.
It was intoxicating.  And Phil Forrest went suddenly dizzy again.
"I'm losing my head," rebuked the lad.  "If I don't pull myself
together I shall surely fall off.  Then they will have something
to laugh at rather than to applaud."
He took himself firmly in hand.  But the applause did not abate
"Watch out, we're going down," warned the trainer.
The elephant trainer's command came out like the crack of a
ringmaster's whip.
Slowly the great beasts lowered themselves toward the sawdust
"Stoop over and grab the harness!"
Phil did so.
"Sit!  Let go, Emperor!"
The trunk was released instantly and Phil plumped to the beast's
head once more, amid the wildest applause.
The band swung into another tune, which was the signal for the
next act to be brought on.  At the same time the ringmaster blew
a shrill blast on his whistle.
The trainer left the ring with his charges by an exit that he
seldom departed through.  But he did so in order to leave Phil
near the place where his seats were, first having ascertained
where these were located.
"Put him down, Emperor!  Down, I say!"
Emperor reached up an unwilling trunk, grasped Phil about the
waist and stood him on the ground.  At the trainer's command the
beast released his hold of his friend and as the hook was gently
pressed against his side to hurry him, Emperor started
reluctantly away.
Phil, with flushed face, a happy look in his eyes, had turned to
run up the aisle to his seats, when, with a loud trumpeting,
Emperor wheeled, and breaking away from his trainer, swept down
toward the spot where he had left Phil Forrest.
The movement almost threw those in that section into a panic.
Women screamed, believing the animal had suddenly gone crazy,
while men sprang to their feet.
Phil had turned at the first alarm, and, observing what was
taking place, with rare presence of mind trotted down to the
arena again.
He reached there about the same time that Emperor did.
With a shrill scream Emperor threw his long trunk about the lad,
and before Phil had time to catch his breath, he had been hurled
to the elephant's back.
Uttering loud trumpetings the great elephant started on a swift
shamble for his quarters, giving not the slightest heed to his
trainer's commands to halt.
GETTING HIS FIRST CALL
"Let him go.  Emperor won't hurt me," laughed Phil as soon as he
could get his breath, for he was moving along at a pace which
would have meant a tumble to the ground had the elephant not
supported the lad with its trunk.
The audience soon seeing that no harm had come to the boy, set up
another roar, which was still loud in Phil's ears when Emperor
set his burden down after reaching the elephant quarters in the
menagerie tent.
"You're a bad boy.  Get down, sir, and let me off," chided Phil.
The elephant, to his surprise, cautiously let himself down to his
knees, his trunk at the same time reaching out surreptitiously
for a wisp of fresh grass.
Phil slipped off, laughing heartily.  He had lost all fear of the
great, hulking beast.
"Don't punish him, please," begged the boy when the keeper came
hurrying along with Jupiter.  "But if you will make him let me
alone, I'll go in the other tent.  I want to see the circus."
"Wait a moment.  I'll chain him up."
The keeper soon had Emperor fast.  Then after a final
affectionate petting Phil ran lightly to the other tent and
quickly made his way to his seat.  The people were so engrossed
in the acts in the ring that they did not observe the boy
particularly this time.
"Did I make a show of myself, Mrs. Cahill?" questioned the lad,
with sparkling eyes.
"You did not.  You were as handsome as a picture.  There isn't
one of all those people that looks so handsome or so manly as--"
"Please, please, Mrs. Cahill!" begged the lad, blushing
violently. "Have you seen anything of my friend Teddy?  I had
forgotten all about him."
"That looks like him down there."
"There, leaning against that pole," she pointed.
Phil gazed in the direction indicated, and there, sure enough,
was Teddy Tucker leaning carelessly against the center pole.  He
had no right to be there, as Phil well knew, and he watched with
amused interest for the moment when the other boy's presence
would be discovered.
It came shortly afterwards.  All at once the ringmaster fixed a
cold eye on Teddy.
Teddy gave no heed to him.
"Get out of there!  Think you own this show?"
The lad made believe that he did not hear.
The ringmaster's long whip lash curled through the air, going off
with a crack that sounded as if a pistol had been fired, and
within an inch of Teddy's nose.
Teddy sprang back, slapping a hand to his face, believing that he
had been hit.  Then there followed a series of disconcerting
snaps all around his head as the long lash began to work, but so
skillfully was it wielded that the end of it did not touch him.
But Teddy had had enough.  He turned and ran for the seats.
"Come up here," cried Phil, laughing immoderately.  "Here's a
seat right beside us and there won't be any ringmaster to bother
Considerably crestfallen, the lad climbed up to where Phil and
Mrs. Cahill were sitting.
"You mustn't go down there, you know, Teddy.  They don't allow
outsiders in the ring while the performance is going on. Someone
might get hurt--"
"They let you in," bristled Teddy.
"That was different.  They couldn't help themselves, and neither
could I.  Emperor took me in whether I would or not; and, in
fact, I didn't know I was going till I was halfway there."
Phil's companion surveyed him with admiration.
"My, but you did cut a figure up on that elephant's head!  I
should have been afraid."
"There was nothing to be afraid of.  But let's watch the
performance. There's a trapeze act going on now."
For a few moments the lads watched the graceful bodies of the
performers slipping through the air.  One would swing out from
his perch, flying straight into the arms of his fellow-performer
who was hanging head down from another swinging bar.  On the
return sweep the first performer would catch his own bar and
return to his perch.
"Looks easy.  I'll bet I could do that," nodded Teddy.
Phil shook his head.
"Not so easy as it looks."
"How much do you suppose they get--think they must get as much as
a dollar and a half a day for doing that?  I'd do it for a
dollar, if I could," averred the irrepressible Teddy Tucker.
"They get a good many more dollars than that, Teddy.  I've heard
that some of them get all of twenty-five or thirty dollars a
Phil's companion whistled.
The next act was a bareback riding exhibition, by a pretty,
graceful young woman whom the ringmaster introduced as
Mademoiselle Mora.
At the crack of the whip she sprang lightly to the back of the
gray old ring horse and began a series of feats that made the
boys sit forward in their seats.
At the conclusion of the act Mademoiselle Mora ran out to the
edge of the ring, and blowing a kiss at the blushing Phil,
tripped away on fairy feet for the dressing tent.
"Did you see her?  She bowed to me?" exclaimed Teddy
enthusiastically.
"Guess she didn't see you at all, young man," replied Mrs. Cahill
dryly.  "There's others in the tent besides you, even if the
ringmaster did crack his whip in your face and just miss your
A clown came out and sang a song about a boy who had rescued a
beautiful young woman from a runaway horse and got kidnaped by an
elephant.  The song made a hit, for most of the audience
understood that it referred to Phil Forrest.
And so the performance went on, with a glitter and a crash, a
haze of yellow dust hanging like a golden cloud in the afternoon
sun, over spectators and performers alike.
"Hello, there's Rod!" exclaimed Teddy.
"Rod.  The red-haired kid we saw this morning, only his hair is
black now.  He's covered up his own looks so he won't set the
tent on fire."
"Oh, you mean Rodney Palmer?  Yes, I guess that is he."
"See, they're pulling him up on a rope.  I wonder where he is
"To those flying rings," explained Phil.  "And there is a young
woman going up, too."
One after another was pulled up, until a troupe of four had
ascended and swung off to the rings that were suspended far up
there in the haze.
Both Phil and Teddy were more than ordinarily interested in this
act, for they were no mean performers on the rings themselves. In
the schoolyard an apparatus had been rigged with flying rings,
and on this the boys had practiced untiringly during the spring
months, until they had both become quite proficient.
"Isn't he great?" breathed Teddy, as Rodney Palmer swung out into
the air, letting his legs slip through the rings until only his
toes were hanging to the slender support.
"Yes; he certainly does do it fine."
"We can do it just as well."
"Perhaps, but not so gracefully."
"See, he's swinging his hand at us."
Sure enough, Rodney had picked out the two lads, and was smiling
at them and waving a hand in their direction.  The two lads felt
very proud of this, knowing as they did that they were the envy
of every boy of their acquaintance within sight of them.
The climax of the act was when the young woman seemed to plunge
straight down toward the ground.
The women in the audience uttered sharp little cries of alarm.
But the performer was not falling.  Strong slender ropes had been
fastened to her heels, the other ends being held by one of the
performers who was hanging from the rings.
As a result the falling girl's flight was checked just before she
reached the ground and the spectators breathed a sigh of profound
"My, that was great!  I wouldn't want to do that."
"No, you're too heavy, Teddy.  That's why they have a girl do it.
She is slender and light--"
"I'd be light headed."
"Guess, I would, too," laughed Phil.
At this juncture an attendant came running up the steps, halting
before the lads.
"Are you Phil Forrest?" he asked.
"The boss wants to see you."
"Mr. Sparling?  All right.  I wanted to see the rest of the show,
but I'll go."  Phil rose reluctantly and followed the guide.
"I'll meet you by the ticket wagon if I don't get back here,
Teddy," he said.
PHIL GETS A SURPRISE
"Where will I find Mr. Sparling?"
"In the doghouse."
"Where's that?"
"Out back of the ticket wagon.  It's a little A tent, and we call
it the boss's doghouse, because it's only big enough to hold a
couple of St. Bernards."
"Oh!  What does he want of me?"
"Ask him," grinned the attendant, who, it developed, was an usher
in the reserved-seat section.  "He don't tell us fellows his
business. Say, that was a great stunt you did with Emperor."
"Oh, I don't know."
"I do.  There's the doghouse over there.  See it?"
"Yes, thank you."
The attendant leaving him, Phil walked on alone to Mr. Sparling's
private office, for such was the use to which he put the little
tent that the usher had called the "doghouse."
"I wonder what he can want of me?" mused Phil.  "Probably he
wants to thank me for stopping that pony.  I hope he doesn't.  I
don't like to be thanked.  And it wasn't much of anything that I
did anyway.  Maybe he's going to--but what's the use of
The lad stepped up to the tent, the flaps of which were closed.
He stretched out his hand to knock, then grinned sheepishly.
"I forgot you couldn't knock at a tent door.  I wonder how
visitors announce themselves, anyway."
His toe, at that moment, chanced to touch the tent pole and that
gave him an idea.  Phil tapped against the pole with his foot.
"Come in!" bellowed the voice of the owner of the show.
Phil entered, hat in hand.  At the moment the owner was busily
engaged with a pile of bills for merchandise recently purchased
at the local stores, and he neither looked up nor spoke.
Phil stood quietly waiting, noting amusedly the stern scowl that
appeared to be part of Mr. Sparling's natural expression.
"Well, what do you want?" he demanded, with disconcerting
"I--I was told that you had sent for me, that you wanted to see
me," began the lad, with a show of diffidence.
"So I did, so I did."
The showman hitched his camp chair about so he could get a better
look at his visitor.  He studied Phil from head to foot with his
usual scowl.
"On the ground, sir?"
"Ground?  No, of course not.  Where's that chair?  Oh, my lazy
tent man didn't open it.  I'll fire him the first place we get to
where he won't be likely to starve to death.  I hear you've been
trying to put my show out of business."
"I wasn't aware of it, sir," replied Phil, looking squarely at
his questioner.  "Perhaps I was not wholly blameless in attaching
myself to Emperor."
"Huh!" grunted Mr. Sparling, but whether or not it was a grunt of
disapproval, Phil could not determine.
"So you're not living at home?"
"I have no home now, sir."
"Just so, just so.  Brought up in refined surroundings, parents
dead, crabbed old uncle turned you out of doors for reasons best
known to himself--"
Phil was amazed.
"You seem to know all about me, sir."
"Of course.  It's my business to know something about everything.
I ought to thank you for getting Mrs. Sparling out of that mix-up
this morning, but I'll let her do that for herself.  She wants to
see you after the performance."
"I don't like to be thanked, Mr. Sparling, though I should like
to know Mrs. Sparling," said Phil boldly.
"Neither do I, neither do I.  Emperor has gone daffy over you.
What did you feed him?"
"Some sugar and peanuts.  That was all."
"Huh!  You ought to be a showman."
"I have always wanted to be, Mr. Sparling."
"Oh, you have, eh?"
"Well, why don't you?"
"I have never had the opportunity."
"You mean you've never looked for an opportunity.  There are
always opportunities for everything, but we have to go after
them. You've been going after them today for the first time, and
you've nailed one of them clear up to the splice of the center
pole. Understand?"
"Not entirely, sir."
"Well, do you want to join out with the Great Sparling Combined
Shows, or don't you?"
"You mean--I join the--the--"
Mr. Sparling was observing him narrowly.
"I said, would you like to join our show?"
"I should like it better than anything else in the world."
"Sign this contract, then," snapped the showman, thrusting a
paper toward Phil Forrest, at the same time dipping a pen in the
ink bottle and handing it to him.
"You will allow me to read it first, will you not?"
"Good!  That's the way I like to hear a boy talk.  Shows he's got
some sense besides what he's learned in books at some--well,
never mind."
"What--what is this, ten dollars a week?" gasped Phil, scarcely
able to believe his eyes as he looked at the paper.
"That's what the contract says, doesn't it?"
"Then, that's what it is.  Traveling expenses and feed included.
You are an easy keeper?"
"Well, I don't eat quite as much as a horse, if that's what you
mean," laughed Phil.
After reading the contract through, the lad affixed his signature
to it with trembling hand.  It was almost too good to be true.
"Thank you, sir," he said, laying the paper before Mr. Sparling.
"And now, my lad," added the showman more mildly, "let me give
you some advice.  Some folks look upon circus people as rough and
intemperate.  That day's past.  When a man gets bad habits he's
of no further use in the circus business.  He closes mighty
quick.  Remember that."
"Yes, sir.  You need not worry about my getting into any such
"I don't, or I wouldn't take you.  And another thing: Don't get
it into your head, as a good many show people do, that you know
more about running the business than the boss does.  He might not
agree with you.  It's a bad thing to disagree with the boss, eh?"
"I understand, sir."
"You'd better."
"What do you want me to do?  I don't know what I can do to earn
that salary, but I am willing to work at whatever you may put me
"That's the talk.  I was waiting for you to come to that.  But
leave the matter to me.  You'll have a lot of things to do, after
you get your bearings and I find out what you can do best.  As it
is, you have earned your salary for the first season whether you
do anything else or not.  You saved the big cat and you probably
saved my wife's life, but we'll let that pass.  When can you join
"I'm ready now, sir.  I shall want to go home and get my things
and my books."
"Huh!  That's right.  Take your time.  We shan't be pulling out
of here till after midnight, so you'd better go home and get
ready. You'll want to bid good-bye to Mrs. Ca--Ca--Cahill."
"I wonder if there is anything that he doesn't know about,"
marveled Phil.
"Anything you want to ask me about--any favor you'd like? If
there is, get it out."
"Well, yes, there is, but I scarcely feel like asking it, you
have been so kind to me."
"I--I have a little friend, who--who, like myself, has no parents
and is crazy over the circus.  He wants to be a circus man just
as much as I do.  If you had a place--if you could find something
for him to do, I should appreciate it very much."
"Who is he, that youngster with the clown face, who crawled in
under the tent this afternoon?"
Phil laughed outright.
"I presume so.  That's the way he usually gets in."
"Where is he now?"
"Seeing the performance, sir."
"Nail him when he comes out.  We'll give him all the show he
With profuse thanks Phil Forrest backed from the tent and walked
rapidly toward the entrance.  It seemed to him as if he were
walking on air.
"Let that boy through.  He's with the show now," bellowed Mr.
Sparling, poking his head from the doghouse tent.
The gateman nodded.
"How soon will the performance be over?" inquired Phil,
approaching the gateman.
"Ten minutes now."
"Then, I guess I won't go in.  I promised to meet Teddy over by
the ticket wagon anyway."
But Phil could not stand still.  Thrusting his hands in his
pockets he began pacing back and forth, pondering deeply.  He did
not observe the shrewd eyes of Mr. Sparling fixed upon him from
behind the flap of the little tent.
"At last, at last!" mused Phil.  "I'm a real live showman at
last, but what kind of a showman I don't know.  Probably they'll
make me help put up the tents and take them down.  But, I don't
care. I'll do anything.  And think of the money I'll earn.  Ten
dollars a week!" he exclaimed, pausing and glancing up at the
fluttering flags waving from center and quarter poles.  "Why,
it's a fortune! I shall be able to save most all of it, too.  Oh,
I'm so happy!"
"They're coming out," called the gateman to him.
"Thank you."
Phil's face was full of repressed excitement when Teddy came
slouching up to him.
"Bully show," announced the lad.  "Didn't know which way to look,
there was so much to be seen."
"How would you like to join the show and be a real circus man?"
demanded Phil.
"Maybe I can fix it for you."
"Don't give me such a shock, Phil.  You said it almost as if you
"And I did."
Teddy gazed at his companion for a full minute.
"Something's been going on, I guess--something that I don't seem
to know anything about."
"There has, Teddy.  I'm already a showman.  You come with me. Mr.
Sparling wants to speak with you.  Don't be afraid of him. He
talks as if he was mad all the time, but I'm sure he isn't."
Grasping Teddy by the arm Phil rushed him into Mr. Sparling's
tent, entering this time without knocking.
"This is my friend whom I spoke to you about," announced Phil,
thrusting Teddy up before the showman.
Mr. Sparling eyed the lad suspiciously.
"Want to join out, too, eh?"
"I--I'd like to," stammered Teddy.
"Do your parents approve of your going with a show?"
"I--I don't know, sir."
"You'd better find out, then.  Ask them mighty quick.  This is no
camp meeting outfit that plays week stands."
" 'Cause they're dead."
"Huh!  Why didn't you say so before?"
"You didn't ask me."
"You're too smart, young man."
"Takes a smart man to be a circus man, doesn't it?"
"I guess you're right at that," answered the showman, his stern
features relaxing into a smile.  "You'll do.  But you'd better
not hand out that line of sharp talk in bunches when you get with
the show.  It might get you into trouble if you did."
"Yes, sir; I'll be good."
"Now, you boys had better run along and make your preparations.
You may take your supper in the cook tent tonight if you wish.
But you will have to be on hand promptly, as they take down the
cook tent first of all."
"Thank you; we will," answered Phil.
"What act--what do I perform?" questioned Teddy, swelling with
"Ho, ho, ho!"
"I'm going to be a performer and wear pink pants, ain't I?"
"A performer?  Oh, that's too good.  Yes, my son, you shall be a
performer.  How would you like to be a juggler?"
"Then, I think I'll let you juggle the big coffeepot in the cook
tent for the edification of the hungry roustabouts," grinned Mr.
"What do I do?"
"Do, young man--do?"
"Why, you stand by the coffee boiler in the cook tent, and when
you hear a waiter bawl 'Draw one,' at the same time throwing a
pitcher at you from halfway across the tent, you catch the
pitcher and have it filled and ready for him by the time he gets
"Do I throw the pitcherful of coffee back at him?" questioned
Teddy innocently.
"You might, but you wouldn't be apt to try it a second time.
You'd be likely to get a resounding slap from the flat of his
"I'd hit him on the nose if he did," declared Teddy
belligerently.
Mr. Sparling could not resist laughing.
"That's not the way to begin.  But you will learn.  Follow your
friend Phil, here, and you will be all right if I am any judge of
boys.  I ought to be, for I have boys of my own.  You'd better be
The two lads started off at a brisk pace.  Phil to tell Mrs.
Cahill of his good fortune.  Teddy to bid good-bye to the people
with whom he had been living as chore boy.
THE FIRST NIGHT WITH THE SHOW
"Teddy, you and I are a pair of lucky boys.  Do you know it?"
Each, with his bag of belongings, was on his way to the circus
lot, the boys having bid good-bye to their friends in the
The people with whom Teddy lived had given a reluctant consent to
his going with the circus, after he had explained that Phil
Forrest had gotten him the place and that Phil himself was going
to join the show.  The lad told them he was going to make a lot
of money and that someday he would pay them for all they had done
for him. And he kept his word faithfully.
"Maybe.  I reckon Barnum & Bailey will be wanting us first thing
we know," answered Teddy.
"We shall be lucky if we hold on to the job we have already. Did
Mr. Sparling say what he would pay you?"
"No, he didn't think of that--at least I didn't.  Did he tell you
how much you were going to get?"
Phil nodded.
"I don't think I had better say," answered the lad doubtfully.
"If you ask him and he tells you, of course that will be all
right. I shall be glad to do so then.  It isn't that I don't want
you to know, you understand, but it might be better business,
just now, to say nothing about it," added Phil, with a wisdom far
beyond his years.
"Dark secret, eh?" jeered Teddy Tucker.
"No; there's no secret about it.  It is just plain business,
that's all."
"Business!  Huh!  Who ever heard of a circus being business?"
"You'll find business enough when you get in, Teddy Tucker."
"Don't believe it.  It's just good fun and that's all."
They had reached the circus lot by this time and were now making
their way to Mr. Sparling's tent.
"We have come to report, sir," announced Phil, entering the tent
with Teddy close behind him.  "We are ready for work."
There was a proud ring in Phil Forrest's voice as he made the
announcement.
"Very well, boys.  Hand your baggage over to the man at the
baggage wagon.  If there is anything in either of your grips that
you will want during the night you had better get it out, for you
will be unable to get into the wagon after the show is on the
road. That's one of the early wagons to move, too."
"I guess there is nothing except our tooth brushes and combs that
we shall need.  We have those in our pockets."
"Better take a couple of towels along as well."
"Yes, sir; thank you."
"The cook tent is open.  Go over and have your suppers now. Wait
a moment, I'll go with you.  They might not let you in. You see,
they don't know you there yet."
Mr. Sparling, after closing and locking his trunk, escorted the
lads to the cook tent, where he introduced both to the manager of
that department.
"Give them seats at the performers' table for tonight," he
directed. "They will be with the show from now on.  Mr. Forrest
here will remain at that table, but the other, the Tucker boy, I
shall probably turn over to you for a coffee boy."
The manager nodded good naturedly, taking quick mental measure of
the two lads.
The boys were directed to their seats, which they took, almost as
if in a dream.  It was a new and unfamiliar experience to them.
The odor of the food, the sweet scents from the green grass
underneath their feet, all so familiar to the showman, gave Phil
and Teddy appetites that even a canvasman might have envied.
The performers glanced at them curiously, some of the former
nodding to Phil, having recognized in him the boy who had ridden
the elephant into the arena in the grand entry.
"Not so much after all, are they?" grunted Teddy.
"They are all human beings like ourselves, I guess," replied
Stripped of their gaudy costumes and paint, the performers looked
just like other normal beings.  But instead of talking about the
show and their work, they were discussing the news of the day,
and it seemed to the two lads to be more like a large family at
supper than a crowd of circus performers.
Rodney Palmer nodded good naturedly to them from further up the
long table, but they had no more than time to nod back when a
waiter approached to take their orders.  Teddy ordered pretty
much everything on the bill, while Phil was more modest in his
"Don't eat everything they have," he warned laughingly.
"Plenty more where this came from.  That's one good thing about a
"What's that?"
"If the food gives out they can eat the animals."
"Better look out that the animals don't make a meal of you."
"Joining out?" asked the man sitting next to Phil.
"I don't know yet what I am to do.  Mr. Sparling is giving me a
chance to find out what I am good for, if anything," smiled Phil.
"Boss is all right," nodded the circus man.  "That was a good
stunt you did this afternoon.  Why don't you work that up?"
"I--I'll think about it."  Phil did not know exactly what was
meant by the expression, but it set him to thinking, and out of
the suggestion he was destined to "work up" something that was
really worthwhile, and that was to give him his first real start
in the circus world.
"What's that funny-looking fellow over there doing?" interrupted
"That man down near the end of the table?"
"That's Billy Thorpe, the Armless Wonder," the performer informed
"And he hasn't any hands?" wondered the boy.
"Naturally not, not having any arms.  He uses his feet for
"What's he doing now?"
"Eating with his feet.  He can use them almost as handily as you
can your hands.  You should see Billy sew, and write and do other
things.  Why, they say he writes the best foot of anybody in the
"Doesn't he ever get cold feet?" questioned Teddy humorously.
"Circus people are not afflicted with that ailment.  Doesn't go
well with their business."
"May I ask what you do?" inquired Phil.
"I am the catcher in the principal trapeze act.  You may have
seen me today.  I think you were in the big top then."
"Oh, yes, I saw you this afternoon."
"How many people are with the show?" asked Teddy.
"At a rough guess, I should say a hundred and fifty including
canvasmen and other labor help.  It's a pretty big organization
for a road show, the biggest in the country; but it's small, so
small it would be lost if one of the big railroad shows was
"Is that another armless or footless wonder next to Billy
Thorpe?" asked Teddy.
"It's a freak, yes, but with hands and feet.  That's the living
skeleton, but if he keeps on eating the way he's been doing
lately the boss will have to change the bills and bill him as the
fattest man on earth."
"Huh!" grunted Teddy.  "He could crawl through a rat hole in a
barn door now.  He's thin enough to cut cheese with."
Phil gave his companion a vigorous nudge under the table.
"You'll get into trouble if you are so free in expressing your
opinions," he whispered.  "Don't forget the advice Mr. Sparling
"Apple or custard pie?" broke in the voice of the waiter.
"Custard," answered Phil.
"Both for mine," added Teddy.
He got what he had ordered and without the least question, for
the Sparling show believed that the best way to make its people
contented was to feed them.
Mr. Sparling and his assistants, Phil observed, occupied a table
by themselves.  After he had finished the owner motioned to him
to join them, and there Mrs. Sparling made a place for him by her
side and thanked him briefly but warmly for his brave act.
"I shall have to keep an eye on you two boys," she smiled. "Any
time I can help you with advice or otherwise you come right to
me.  Don't you be backward about doing so, will you?"
Phil assured her that he would not.
The two lads after some further conversation strolled from the
"I think I'll go in and see how the animals are getting along,"
decided Phil, beginning to realize that he was free to go where
he would and without fear of being ordered off.
Already people were gathering in front of the entrance for the
night performance.  The doors were advertised to open at seven
o'clock, so that the spectators might have plenty of time in
which to view the collection of "rare and wonderful beasts,
gathered from the remote places of the earth," as the announcer
proclaimed from the vantage point of a dry goods box.
Phil bought a bag of peanuts and took them in to his friend
Emperor, the beast uttering a shrill cry of joy when he saw Phil
approaching.
"I'll try to teach him my whistle," said the boy, puckering his
lips and giving the signal that the boys of his school used in
summoning each other.
"Think he'll remember that, Mr. Kennedy?" he asked of the
"Never forget it, will you, Emperor?"
The elephant coughed.
"Never forgets anything.  Knows more than any man in the show
now, because he has lived longer."
"How old is he?"
"Close to a hundred."
"You don't say?" marveled Teddy.  "Hope I'll be able to squeal as
loud as that when I'm a hundred.  Has he got a hole through his
"Not that anybody knows of."
"Come on; I want to see the fellow tame the tiger.  I missed that
today, because he didn't do it at the afternoon show."
They found Mr. Sparling standing in front of the cage.  He, too,
was there to watch the performance.
"This looks to me like ready money," he observed to Phil, nodding
his head toward the people who were crowding into the tent.
"Mr. Forrest, will you ride Emperor in again tonight?  I think
that's one of the reasons they have come here," said the showman,
shrewdly grasping the least thing that would tend to popularize
"Certainly, sir.  I shall enjoy it very much."
They now turned their attention to the cage where the trainer had
begun with the savage tiger.
"Bengal is in an ugly temper about something tonight," announced
Mr. Sparling in a low tone.  "Better be careful, Bob," he
cautioned, after having stepped up close to the cage.
"I'll take care of him," answered the trainer, without taking his
eyes from the beast for the fraction of a second.
Phil had heard the dialogue and now drew closer to the cage,
stepping under the rope and joining Mr. Sparling.
Teddy, of course, not to be left behind, crawled under the rope
"Sit down in front," shouted someone.  "We can't see the animals
In a moment the spectators saw a play that was not down on the
Bob was swinging the whip over Bengal's nose, the cruel lash
cutting the tender snout with every blow.  But he was not doing
it from sheer cruelty, as many of the spectators who raised their
voices in loud protest imagined.
Not understanding wild animals as the trainer did, they did not
realize that this plucky fellow was fighting for his life, even
though he used but a slender rawhide in his effort to do so.
Bengal was crowding him.  The least mistake on the trainer's part
now and the savage tiger would put a quick and terrible end to
"Stand back, everybody!  Bring the prods!" bellowed Mr. Sparling.
Phil understood that something was wrong, though he never would
have guessed it from the calm expression on the trainer's face.
Not a word did the performer speak, but his hand rained blows on
the nose, while snarl after snarl was spit from between Bengal's
gleaming teeth.
The trainer was edging slowly toward the door.  He knew that
nothing could be done with the beast in its present state of
terrible temper.
His only hope was that at a favorable moment, when the attendants
came with their long, iron bars, he might be able to spring from
the door at his back, which he was trying to reach.
Phil's mind was working like an automatic machine.  He saw now
what the trainer was attempting to do, and was seeking for some
means of helping the man.  But what could a slender boy hope to
do against the power of a great, savage brute like Bengal?
Phil concluded there was nothing.
A pistol flashed almost in the face of the two lads.  Mr.
Sparling had started away on a run to fetch the attendants who
either had not heard or failed to heed his call.
"What did he do that f-f-for?" stammered Teddy.
"To drive the tiger back.  It was a blank cartridge that he
fired. I think the tiger is going to attack him.  Yes, there he
goes! Oh, that's _terrible!_"
The trainer had been forced against the bars at the back of the
cage by the animal, whose length was more than the width of the
cage itself.
In an unsuspected moment the beast had sprung upon the
unfortunate man, and with one sweep of his powerful paw had laid
the man low.
With a growl of savage joy, the brute settled back against the
bars of the cage near which the lads were standing.
Women shrieked and men grew pale as they stood helpless to do
aught to avert the impending tragedy.
Teddy slipped out from under the rope, his face ashen gray.  But
Phil stood his ground.  He felt that he _must_ do something.
Then his opportunity came.  The beast's great silken tail popped
out through the bars against which he was backing.
Phil Forrest, without an instant's thought of the danger into
which he was placing himself, sprang forward.
His hands closed over the tail, which he twisted about his right
arm in a flash, at the same time throwing up his feet and bracing
them against a wheel of the wagon.
No sooner had he done so than Bengal, uttering a frightful roar,
whirled.  The force of the jerk as the brute turned hurled Phil
Forrest against the bars of the cage with a crash, and Bengal's
sharp-clawed feet made a vicious sweep for the body of the lad
pressed so tightly against the bars.
A THRILLING RESCUE
"Open the door and let the man out!" shouted Phil, with great
presence of mind.  But no one seemed to have the power to move.
One sweep of the powerful claw and one side of the lad's clothes
was literally stripped from him, though he had managed to shrink
back just far enough to save himself from the needle like claws
of the tiger.
At this moment men came rushing from other parts of the tent.
Some bore iron rods, while two or three carried tent poles and
sticks--anything that the circus men could lay their hands upon.
Mr. Sparling was in the lead of the procession that dashed
through the crowd, hurling the people right and left as they ran.
With every spring of the tiger Phil was being thrown against the
bars with terrific force, but still he clung to the tail that was
wrapped about his arm, hanging on with desperate courage.
Though the lad was getting severe punishment, he was
accomplishing just what he had hoped for--to keep Bengal busy
until help arrived to liberate the unconscious trainer, who lay
huddled against the bars on the opposite side of the cage.
"Poke one of the tent poles in to him and let him bite it!"
roared Mr. Sparling.  "Half a dozen of you get around behind the
cage and when we have his attention one of you pull Bob out.
Keep your poles in the opening when you open the door, so Bengal
doesn't jump out.  Everybody stand back!"
The commands of the showman came out like so many explosions of a
pistol.  But it had its effect.  His men sprang to their work
like machines.
In the meantime Mr. Sparling himself had grabbed the tail of the
beast, taking a hold higher up than Phil's.
"Pull the boy off.  He's hanging on like a bull dog.  If you had
half his sense you'd have put a stop to this mix-up minutes ago."
Teddy by this time had gotten in under the ropes again, and,
grasping his companion about the waist, he held on until he had
untwisted the tiger's tail from his companion's arm and released
Phil, staggering back with his burden against the rope.
Phil's limp body, the moment Teddy let go of him, collapsed in a
The circus men were too busy at the moment to notice him.  One of
the men had thrust a short tent pole between the bars.  Bengal
was upon it like an avalanche.
Biting, clawing, uttering fierce growls, he tore the hard wood
into shreds, the man at the other end poking at the beast with
all his might.
Cautiously the rear door of the cage was opened.  Two men grasped
Bob by the shoulders and hauled him out with a quick pull.
The crowd shouted in approval.
"All out!  Let go!" shouted Mr. Sparling.
It took the strength of two men to pull the tent pole from
Bengal's grip.  The instant he lost the pole the beast whirled
and pounced upon the spot where he had left his victim.
Finding that he had lost his prey, the savage beast uttered roar
upon roar, that made every spectator in the tent tremble and draw
back, fearing the animal would break through the bars and attack
"Where's that boy?"
"Here he is, and I guess he's hurt," answered Teddy.
"Give him to me.  I'll get him outside where we can get some
decent air into him.  Is he much hurt?"
"I--I don't know."
The showman grabbed Phil, and as a helper lifted the bottom of
the tent's side wall, Mr. Sparling ran to his own small tent with
the unconscious Phil.
"Fetch a pail of water."
Teddy ran for the cook tent to get the water.  He was amazed to
find no cook tent there.  Instead, there remained only the open
plot of grass, trampled down, with a litter of papers and refuse
scattered about.
By the time he had dashed back to the tent to inquire where he
could find a pail, one of the showmen had brought some water and
Mr. Sparling was bathing Phil's face with it.
He had made a hasty examination of the unconscious boy's wounds,
which he did not believe were serious.
Phil soon came to, and by that time the show's doctor had
arrived, having been in attendance on the wounded animal trainer.
"No; he'll be sore for a few days, but there's nothing dangerous
about those scratches, I should say.  I'll dress the wounds and
he can go on about his business," was the surgeon's verdict.
"I've got to ride Emperor in tonight," objected Phil.
"You'll do nothing of the sort.  You'll get into my wagon and go
to bed.  That's what you will do, and right quick, at that."
"But," urged the lad, "the people will all think I am seriously
hurt if they see no more of me.  Don't you think it would be a
good plan for me to show myself?  They are liable to be uneasy
all through the performance.  If I show myself they will settle
down and forget all about it in a few minutes."
Mr. Sparling turned to his assistant with a significant nod.
"I told you that boy was a natural born showman.  You can't stop
that kind with a club.  Can you stand up alone?"
Phil scrambled to his feet, steadying himself with a hand on the
"I'll be all right after I walk about a bit.  How long before the
elephants go in?"
"You've got fifteen minutes yet."
"Then I may go on?"
"Yes, yes, go on.  You'll never be satisfied if you don't.  But I
ought to take you over my knee and give you a sound walloping."
"Thank you.  How is Mr.--Mr.--the trainer?"
"He isn't badly hurt, thanks to your presence of mind, young
man," answered the surgeon.
"That makes two people you've saved today, Forrest," emphasized
Mr. Sparling.  "We will call that a day's work.  You have earned
your meal ticket.  Better run back to the dressing tent and ask
them to fix up some clothes for you.  Ask for Mrs. Waite, the
wardrobe woman.  Teddy Tucker, you run in and tell Mr. Kennedy,
who has charge of the elephants, that Phil will ride tonight, and
to wait until he gets in."
Both boys hurried away on their respective missions.  All that
Mrs. Waite had that would come anywhere near fitting Phil was a
yellow robe that looked like a night gown.  Phil grinned as he
tucked it under his arm and hurried back to the menagerie tent.
As he passed through the "big top" he saw that it was filling up
"I guess we are going to have a good house tonight," muttered the
lad with a pleased smile.  It did not occur to him that he
himself was responsible for a large part of the attendance--that
the part he had played in the exciting incidents of the day had
done more to advertise the Great Sparling Combined Shows than any
other one factor.
"I am all ready, Mr. Kennedy," announced Phil, running to the
elephant quarters.  The horns were blowing the signal for the
grand entry, so the lad grasped the head harness, as Emperor
stooped, and was quickly hoisted to the position in which he
would enter the ring.
When the people saw that it was indeed Phil they set up a great
shout.  The lad was pale but resolute.  As he went through the
performance, his wounds smarted frightfully.  At times the pain
made him dizzy.
But Phil smiled bravely, waving his hands to the cheering people.
After the finish of the act Mr. Kennedy headed the elephants into
the concourse, the open space between the rings and the seats,
making a complete circuit of the tent, so that all might see Phil
"This is a kind of farewell appearance, you know," grinned
Kennedy. And so the audience took it.
The lad's former companions shouted all manner of things to him.
"Good-bye, Phil!"
"Don't stick your head in the lion's mouth."
"Be careful when you twist the tiger's tail.  Better put some
salt on it before you do."
"We'll look out for Uncle Abner."
Phil was grinning broadly as he rode back into the menagerie
tent. Everybody in town now knew that he had joined the circus,
which brought forth a variety of comments.  Some said it would be
the end of the boy, but Phil Forrest knew that a boy could behave
himself with a circus just as well as in any other occupation,
and so far as his observations went, the circus people were much
better than some folks he knew at home.
No sooner had they gotten into the menagerie tent than a sudden
bustle and excitement were apparent.  Confused shouts were heard
on all sides.  Teams, fully harnessed, were being led into the
tent, quarter-poles were coming down without regard to where they
struck, everybody appearing to have gone suddenly crazy.
"They're striking the tent," nodded Mr. Kennedy, noting the boy's
wonderment.  "You had better look out for yourself. Don't stand
in the way or you may get hurt," he warned.
"Get the bulls out!" called a man, hurrying by.
"They're getting," answered Kennedy.
"What do they mean by that?"
"In circus parlance, the 'bulls' are the elephants.  Where you
going to ride tonight?"
"I don't know.  Hello, there's my friend Teddy.  I guess I had
better attach myself to him or he may get lost."
As a matter of fact, Phil was not sure where he was himself,
activities were following each other with such surprising
But the lads stuck to their ground until it was no longer safe to
do so.  Phil was determined to see all there was to be seen, and
what he saw he remembered.  He had no need to be told after that,
providing he understood the meaning of a certain thing at first.
Observing that one man was holding to the peak rope, and that it
was rapidly getting the best of him, both lads sprang to his
"That's right, boys.  That's the way to do it.  Always be ready
to take advantage of every opening.  You'll learn faster that
way, and you'll both be full-fledged showmen before you know it."
"O Mr. Sparling," exclaimed Phil, after others had relieved them
on the rope.
"Yes?  What is it?"
"I have been wanting to see you, to ask what you wish us to do
tonight--where we are to travel?"
"You may sleep in my wagon.  I'll take a horse for tonight."
"I could not think of doing such a thing.  No, Mr. Sparling, if I
am to be a circus man, I want to do just as the rest of them do.
Where do the other performers sleep?"
"Wherever they can find places.  Some few of the higher paid ones
have berths in wagons.  Others sleep in the band wagon.  The
rest, I guess, don't sleep at all, except after we get into a
town. The menagerie outfit will be leaving town very soon now.
You may go through with them if you wish."
"If you do not object, I think I should prefer to remain until
the rest of the show goes out."
"Suit yourself."
Mr. Sparling understood how the lads felt, and perhaps it would
be better to let them break in at once, he reasoned.  They would
become seasoned much sooner.
The tent was taken down and packed away in the wagons in an
almost incredibly short time.
"Come on; let's go into the circus tent and see what's going on
there," suggested Teddy.
Phil agreed, and the lads strolled in.  They found the
performance nearly over.  When it was finished quite a large
number remained to see the "grand concert" that followed.
While this was going on there was a crash and a clatter as the
men ripped up and loaded the seats, piling them into waiting
wagons that had been driven into the tent from the rear so as not
to be in the way of the people going out.
"It's more fun to watch the men work than it is to see the
concert. That concert's a bum show," averred Teddy, thrusting his
hands in his pockets and turning his back on the "grand concert."
"I agree with you," laughed Phil.  "There's nothing but the
freaks there, and we'll see them, after this, every time we go
for our meals."
"Have you been in the dressing tent yet?" asked Teddy.
"No, I haven't had time.  We'll have to look in there tomorrow,
though I don't think they care about having people visit them
unless they belong there.  Just now we don't.  Do you start work
in the cook tent tomorrow?"
"Yes.  I am to be the champion coffee drawer.  I expect they will
have my picture on the billboards after a little.  Wouldn't I
look funny with a pitcher of hot, steaming coffee in my hand
leaping over a table in the cook tent?" and Teddy laughed
heartily at the thought.  "I'll bet I'd make a hit."
"You mean you would get hit."
"Well, maybe."
The boys hung about until the big top had disappeared from the
lot. The tent poles and boxes of properties were being loaded on
the wagons, while out on the field, the ring horses, performing
ponies and the like stood sleeping, waiting for the moment when
they should be aroused for the start.
"Come on, Teddy; let's you and I go make up our beds."
"Where are they?"
"We'll have to ask the porter," laughed Phil, who had traveled a
little with his parents years before.
"It's a shame that that old tiger has to have a cage all to
himself. We could make up a fine bed if we had half of his cage
and some blankets," complained Teddy.
"Thank you.  I should prefer to walk.  I have had all the
argument I want with that beast.  Let's go try the band wagon."
"All right; that would be fine to sleep way up there."
Laughing and chattering, the lads hunted about on the lot until
they found the great glittering band wagon.  Being now covered
with canvas to protect it from the weather, they had difficulty
in making it out, but finally they discovered it, off near the
road that ran by the grounds.  Four horses were hitched to it,
while the driver lay asleep on the high seat.
"Where will we get in?"
"I don't know, Teddy; we will climb up and find out."
Getting on the rear wheel they pulled themselves up, and finding
the canvas covering loose, threw it open.  Teddy plumped in feet
Immediately there followed such a howling, such a snarling and
torrent of invective that, startled as he was, Phil lost his
balance on the wheel and fell off.
No sooner had he struck the ground than a dark figure came
shooting from above, landing on him and nearly knocking all the
breath out of his body.
Phil threw off the burden, which upon investigation proved to be
Teddy Tucker.
"Wha--what happened?" stammered Phil.  "Sounds as if we had
gotten into a wild animal cage."
"I--I walked on somebody's face and he threw me out," answered
Teddy ruefully.  Phil leaned against the wagon wheel and laughed
until his throat ached.
"Get out of here!  What do you mean?" bellowed an angry voice
over their heads.  "Think my face is a tight rope to be walked on
by every Rube that comes along?"
"Come--come on away, Teddy.  We made a mistake.  We got into the
wrong berth."
"Here's another wagon, Phil.  They're just hitching the horses.
Let's try this."
"All right, it's a canvas wagon.  Go ahead, we'll try it."
"I've tried one wagon.  It's your turn now," growled Teddy.
"I guess you're right.  If I get thrown out you catch me the same
as I did you," laughed Phil.
"Yes, you _caught_ me, didn't you?"
Phil climbed up, but with more caution than Teddy had exercised
in the case of the band wagon.
"Anybody living in this bedroom tonight?" questioned Phil of the
"Guess you are.  First come first served.  Pile in.  You're the
kid that rode the bull, ain't you?"
"And twisted the tiger's tail," added Teddy.
"All right.  Probably some others will be along later, but I'll
see to it that they don't throw you out."
"Thank you.  Come on up, Teddy; it's all right."
Teddy Tucker hastily scrambled up into the wagon which proved to
be a canvas wagon--an open wagon, over which a canvas cover was
stretched in case of storm only.
"Where's the bed clothes?" demanded Teddy.
"I guess the skies will have to be our quilts tonight," answered
The boys succeeded in crawling down between the folds of the
canvas, however, and, snuggling close together, settled down for
their first night on the road with a circus.  Soon the wagons
began to move in response to a chorus of hoarse shouts. The
motion of the canvas wagon very soon lulled the lads to sleep, as
the big wagon show slowly started away and disappeared in the
soft summer night.
CHAPTER XIII
THE DAWNING OF A NEW DAY
"Hi!  Stop the train!  Stop the train!" howled Teddy, as he
landed flat on his back on the hard ground.
"Here, here!  What are you fellows doing?" shouted Phil,
scrambling to his feet.
"I dreamed I was in a train of cars and they ran off the track,"
said Teddy, struggling to his feet and rubbing his shins
gingerly. "Did you do that?"
"You bet.  Think I can wait for you kids to take your beauty
sleep? Don't you suppose this show's got something else to do
besides furnish sleeping accommodations for lazy kids?  Take hold
here, and help us get this canvas out if you want any breakfast."
"Take it out yourself," growled Teddy, dodging the flat of the
canvasman's hand.
The lads had been hurled from their sleeping place by a rough
tentman in a hurry to get at his work.  The chill of the early
dawn was in the air.  The boys stood, with shoulders hunched
forward, shivering, their teeth chattering, not knowing where
they were and caring still less.  They knew only that they were
most uncomfortable.  The glamor was gone.  They were face to face
with the hardships of the calling they had chosen, though they
did not know that it was only a beginning of those hardships.
"B-r-r-r!" shivered Teddy.
"T-h-h-h-at's what I say," chattered Phil.
"Say, are you kids going to get busy, or do you want me to help
Phil did not object to work, but he did not like the way the
canvasman spoke to them.
"I guess you'll have to do your own work.  Come on, Teddy; let's
take a run and warm ourselves up."
Hand in hand the lads started off across the field.  The field
was so dark that they could scarcely distinguish objects about
them. Here and there they dodged wagons and teams that stood like
silent sentinels in the uncertain light.
"Turn a little, Teddy.  We'll be lost before we know it, if we
don't watch out--"
"Ouch!  We're lost already!"
The ground seemed suddenly to give way beneath them.  Both lads
were precipitated into a stream of water that stretched across
one end of the circus lot.
Shouting and struggling about they finally floundered to the
bank, drenched from head to foot.  If they had been shivering
before, they were suffering from violent attacks of ague now.
"Whew!  I'm freezing to death!" cried Phil.
"I feel like the North Pole on Christmas morning," added Teddy.
"I wish I was home, so I could thaw out behind the kitchen
"Brace up, Teddy.  This is only the beginning of the fun.  We
shall have worse experiences than this, late in the fall, when
the weather gets cool; that is, if they do not get enough of us
in the meantime and send us away."
"I--I wish they would send us home now."
"Come now; we've got to run again.  We shall surely take our
death of cold, if we stand here much longer."
"Run?  No, thank you.  I've had one run."
"And you don't want another?  Is that it?"
"Don't know as I blame you.  Well, if you don't want to run, just
stand in one place and jump up and down.  Whip your hands, and
you'll see how soon it will start your blood to circulating,"
advised Phil, who immediately proceeded to put his own theory
into execution.  "That feel better?"
"Yes, some," replied Teddy, rather doubtfully.  "But I could be
warmer. I wonder what time the cook tent will be up."
"That's an idea.  Suppose we go over and find out?"
"Yes, but where is it?"
"I don't know.  But we won't find it if we stand here."
They started off again, this time exercising more caution as to
where their feet touched.  They had not gone far before they came
upon some men who were driving small stakes in the ground,
marking out the spot where one of the tents was to be pitched.
"Can you tell us where the cook tent is going up?" asked Phil
"North side of the field," grunted the man, not very
good-naturedly.
"Which way is north?"
"Get a compass, get a compass," was the discourteous answer.
"He's a grouch.  Come along," urged Teddy Tucker.
A few moments later, attracted by a light that looked like a
fire, the lads hurried toward it.
"Where will we find the cook tent?" questioned Phil again.
"Right here," was the surprising answer.
"What time will it be ready?"
"About seven o'clock.  What's the matter, hungry?"
"More cold than hungry," replied Phil, his teeth chattering.
"Got to get used to that.  Come here.  I've got something that
will doctor you up in no time," announced the man in a cheerful
voice, so different from the answers the lads had received to
their questions that morning, that they were suddenly imbued with
new courage.
"What is it?" asked Phil.
"Coffee, my lad.  We always make coffee the first thing when we
get in, these chilly mornings.  The men work much better after
getting something warm inside them.  Got a cup?"
They had not.
"Wait, I'll get you one," said the accommodating showman.
Never had anything tasted so good as did the coffee that morning.
It was excellent coffee, too, and the boys drank two cups apiece.
"We mustn't drink any more," warned Phil.
"Why not?" wondered Teddy.
"Because we shall be so nervous that we shall not be able to work
today.  And, by the way, were I in your place, I should get busy
here and help in the cook tent until you are told to do something
else.  I think it will make a good impression on Mr. Sparling."
Teddy consented rather grudgingly.
"I'll turn in and do something at the same time.  What can we do
to help you, sir?  That coffee was very good."
"Might get busy and unpack some dishes from those barrels. Be
careful that you don't break any of them."
"All right.  Where shall we put them?"
"Pile them on the ground, all the dishes of the same size
together. Be sure to set a lantern by them so nobody falls over
them in the dark."
The boys, glad of some task to perform, began their work with a
will.  With something to do it was surprising how quickly they
forgot their misfortunes.  In a short time they were laughing and
joking with the good-natured cooktent man and making the dishes
fairly fly out of the barrels.
"Guess I'll have to keep you two boys with my outfit," grinned
the showman.
"I think Mr. Sparling said my friend, Teddy here, was to work in
the cook tent for the present."
"All right, Mr. Teddy.  There's one thing about working in the
cook tent that ought to please you."
"What's that?"
"You can piece between meals all you want to.  If you are like
most boys, you ought to have a good healthy appetite all the
time, except when you are sleeping."
"That's right.  I could eat an elephant steak now--right this
minute.  How long before breakfast?"
"Seven o'clock, I told you."
"What time does Mr. Sparling get up?" inquired Phil.
"Up?  Ask me what time he goes to bed.  I can answer one question
as well as the other.  Nobody knows.  He's always around when you
least expect him.  There he is now."
The owner was striding toward the cook tent for his morning cup
"Good morning, sir," greeted the boys, pausing in their work long
enough to touch their hats, after which they continued unpacking
"Morning, boys.  I see you are up early and getting right at it.
That's right.  No showman was ever made out of a sleepy-head.
Where did you sleep last night?"
"In a wagon on a pile of canvas," answered Phil.
"And they threw us out of bed this morning," Teddy informed him,
with a grimace.
Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.
"And we fell in a creek," added Teddy.
"Well, well, you certainly are having your share of experiences."
"Will you allow me to make a suggestion, Mr. Sparling?" asked
"Of course.  You need not ask that question.  What is it?"
"I think I ought to have some sort of a costume if I am to
continue to ride Emperor in the grand entry."
"H-m-m-m.  What kind do you think you want?"
"Could I wear tights?"
Mr. Sparling was about to laugh, but one glance into the earnest
eyes of Phil Forrest told him that the boy's interest was wholly
in wishing to improve the act--not for the sake of showing
himself, alone.
"Yes, I think perhaps it might not be a bad idea.  You go tell
Mrs. Waite to fix you up with a suit.  But I would prefer to have
you wear your own clothes today."
"Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir."
"I'll tell you why.  I telegraphed on to my advance man all about
you last night, and what you did yesterday will be spread all
over town here today.  It will be a rattling good advertisement.
You and the tiger are my best drawing cards today," smiled Mr.
"Glad I have proved of some use to you, sir."
"Use?  Use?"
"Don't be a fool!" exploded the showman, almost brutally.
Phil's countenance fell.
"Don't you understand, yet, that you already have been worth
several thousand dollars to me?"
"Well, don't get a swelled head about it, for--"
"There is no danger of that, sir."
"And you don't have to potter around the cook tent working,
either. That is, not unless you want to."
"But, I do, Mr. Sparling.  I want to learn everything there is to
be learned about the show business," protested Phil.
Mr. Sparling regarded him quizzically.
"You'll do," he said, turning away.
As soon as the dressing tent had been erected and the baggage was
moved in, Phil hurried to the entrance of the women's dressing
tent and calling for Mrs. Waite, told her what was wanted.
She measured his figure with her eyes, and nodded
understandingly.
"Think I've got something that will fit you.  A young fellow who
worked on the trapeze fell off and broke a leg.  He was just
about your size, and I guess his tights will be about right for
you. Not superstitious, are you?"
Phil assured her he was not.
"You will be, after you have been in the show business a while.
Wait, I'll get them."
Phil's eyes glowed as he saw her returning with a suit of bright
red tights, trunk and shirt to match.
"Oh, thank you ever so much."
"You're welcome.  Have you a trunk to keep your stuff in?"
"No; I have only a bag."
"I've got a trunk in here that's not in use.  If you want to drag
it over to the men's dressing tent you're welcome to it."
Phil soon had the trunk, which he hauled across the open paddock
to the place where the men were settling their belongings. He
espied Mr. Miaco, the head clown.
"Does it make any difference where I place my trunk, Mr. Miaco?"
"It does, my lad.  The performers' trunks occupy exactly the same
position every day during the show year.  I'll pick out a place
for you, and every morning when you come in you will find your
baggage there.  Let me see.  I guess we'll place you up at the
end, next to the side wall of the dressing room.  You will be
more by yourself there.  You'll like that, won't you?"
"Going in in costume, today?"
"No, sir.  Mr. Sparling thought I had better wear my own clothes
today, for advertising purposes."
Miaco nodded understandingly.
"Then you'll want to fix up again.  Been in the gutter?"
"I fell into a ditch in the darkness this morning," grinned Phil.
"You'll get used to that.  Mr. Ducro, the ringmaster, carries a
lantern with him so he won't fall in, but none of the rest of us
do. We call him Old Diogenes because he always has a lantern in
his hand. If you'll take off that suit I'll put it in shape for
"Undress--here?"
"Sure.  You'll have to get used to that."
Phil retired to the further end of the tent where his trunk had
been placed in the meantime, and there took off his clothes,
handing them to the head clown.  Mr. Miaco tossed the lad a bath
robe, for the morning was still chilly.
"After you get broken in you will have to do all this for
yourself. There's nothing like the show business to teach a
fellow to depend upon himself.  He soon becomes a
jack-of-all-trades.  As soon as you can you'll want to get
yourself a rubber coat and a pair of rubber boots.  We'll get
some beastly weather by-and-by."
The good-natured clown ran on with much good advice while he was
sponging and pressing Phil's clothes.  When he had finished, the
suit looked as if it had just come from a tailor shop.
Phil thanked him warmly.
"Now, you and I will see about some breakfast."
Reaching the cook tent, the first person Phil set eyes on was his
chum, Teddy Tucker.  Teddy was presiding over the big nickel
coffeepot, his face flushed with importance.  He was bossing the
grinning waiters, none of whom found it in his heart to get
impatient with the new boy.
AN UNEXPECTED HIT
"Another turn-away," decided a ticket taker, casting his eyes
over the crowds that had gathered for the afternoon performance.
"I guess Mr. Sparling knows his business pretty well," mused
Phil. "He knows how to catch the crowd.  I wonder how many of
them have come here to see me.  How they would look and stare if
they knew I was the kid that twisted the tiger's tail."
Phil's color rose.
It was something for a boy who had been a circus performer for
less than two days to have his name heralded ahead of the show as
one of the leading attractions.
But Phil Forrest had a level head.  He did not delude himself
with any extravagant idea of his own importance.  He knew that
what he had done was purely the result of accident.
"I'll do something, someday, that will be worthwhile," he told
Phil's act that afternoon was fully as successful as it had been
on the previous day back in his home town.  Besides, he now had
more confidence in himself.  He felt that in a very short time he
might be able to keep his feet on the elephant's head without the
support of Emperor's trunk.  That would be an achievement.
On this particular afternoon he rode with as much confidence as
if he had been doing it all the season.
"You'll make a performer," encouraged Kennedy.  "You've got the
poise and everything necessary to make you a good one."
"What kind, do you think?"
"Any old kind.  Do you get dizzy when up in the air?"
"I don't remember that I have ever been up much further than
Emperor hoists me," laughed Phil.
For the next two minutes the man and the boy were too busy with
their act to continue their conversation.  The audience was
enthusiastic, and they shouted out Phil Forrest's name several
times, which made him smile happily.
"What would you advise me to do, Mr. Kennedy?" he asked as the
elephants started to leave the ring, amid the plaudits of the
"Ever try the rings?"
"Yes, but not so high up as those that Rod and his partners
perform on."
"Height doesn't make much difference.  Get them to let the rings
down so you can reach them, then each day raise them a little
higher, if you find you can work on them."
"Thank you.  Perhaps I'll try it this afternoon.  I am anxious to
be a real performer.  Anybody could do this.  Though it's easy, I
think I might work up this act of ours to make it rather funny."
It will be observed that Phil was rapidly falling into the
vernacular of the showman.
"If you've got any ideas we'll thresh them out.  Emperor will be
willing.  He'll say yes to anything you suggest.  What is it?"
"Don't you think Mr. Sparling would object?"
"Not he.  Wait till I get the bulls chained; then we'll talk."
After attending to his charges, Mr. Kennedy and Phil stepped
behind the elephants and sat down on a pile of straw against the
side walls of the menagerie tent.
Phil confided at length what he had in mind, Kennedy nodding from
time to time as Phil made points that met with the trainer's
"Boy, you've got a head on you a yard wide.  You'll make your
everlasting fortune.  Why, I'd never even thought of that
"Don't you think I had better speak to Mr. Sparling?"
Kennedy reflected for a moment.
"Perhaps you had better do so.  But you needn't tell him what it
is. We'll give them a surprise.  Let's go see the property man
and the carpenter.  We'll find out what they can do for us."
Slipping out under the canvas, the two hurried back to the
property room, an enclosure where all the costumes were kept,
together with the armor used in the grand entry, and the other
trappings employed in the show, known as properties.
Mr. Kennedy explained to the property man what was wanted. The
latter called in the carpenter.  After consulting for a few
minutes, they decided that they could give the elephant trainer
and his assistant what they sought.
"When will you have it ready?"
"Maybe in time for tonight's performance, but I can't promise for
"Thank you," exclaimed Phil, hurrying away to consult with Mr.
"I have been thinking out a plan to work up my part of the
elephant act," announced Phil, much to the owner's surprise.
"You have, eh?"
"What is it?"
"I was in hopes you wouldn't ask me that.  I wanted to surprise
Mr. Sparling shook his head doubtfully.
"I'm afraid you haven't had experience enough to warrant my
trusting so important a matter to you," answered the showman,
knowing how serious a bungled act might be, and how it would be
likely to weaken the whole show.
Phil's face showed his disappointment.
"Mr. Kennedy says it will be a fine act.  I have seen the
property man and the carpenter, and they both think it's great.
They are getting my properties ready now."
"So, so?" wondered the owner, raising his eyebrows ever so
little. "You seem to be making progress, young man.  Let's see,
how long have you been in the show business?" he reflected.
"Twenty-four hours," answered Phil promptly.
Mr. Sparling grinned.
"M-m-m-m.  You're certainly getting on fast.  Who told you you
might give orders to my property man and my carpenter, sir?" the
proprietor demanded, somewhat sternly.
"I took that upon myself, sir.  I'm sure it would improve the
act, even though I have not had as much experience as I might
have. Will you let me try it?" demanded the boy boldly.
"I'll think about it.  Yes, I'll think about it.  H-m-m-m!
Thus encouraged, Phil left his employer, going in to watch some
of the other acts.
About that time Mr. Sparling found it convenient to make a trip
back to the property man's room, where he had quite a long talk
with that functionary.  The proprietor came away smiling and
About an hour later Phil sauntered out and passed in front of Mr.
Sparling's tent, hoping the showman would see him and call him
Phil was not disappointed.  Mr. Sparling did that very thing.
"How's that new act of yours coming along, young man?" he
"I have done no more than think it over since talking with you a
little while ago.  If the props are ready Mr. Kennedy and I will
have a quiet rehearsal this afternoon.  That is, if we can shoo
everybody out of the tent and you are willing we should try it.
How about it, sir?"
"I must say you are a most persistent young man."
"And what if this act falls down flat?  What then?"
"It mustn't."
"But if it does?"
"Then, sir, I'll give up the show business and go back to
Edmeston, where I'll hire out to work on a farm.  If I can't do a
little thing like this I guess the farm will be the best place
Phil was solemn and he meant every word he said.  Mr. Sparling,
however, unable to maintain his serious expression, laughed
"My boy, you are all right.  Go ahead and work up your act.  You
have my full permission to do that in your own way, acting, of
course, under the approval of Mr. Kennedy.  He knows what would
go with his bulls."
"Thank you, thank you very much," exclaimed Phil, impulsively. "I
hope you will be pleasantly surprised."
"I expect to be."
Phil ran as fast as his legs would carry him to convey the good
news to Mr. Kennedy.  Active preparations followed, together with
several hurried trips to the property room.  The property man was
getting along famously with his part of the plan, and both Phil
and Mr. Kennedy approved of what had been done thus far.
According to programme, after the afternoon show had been
finished and all the performers had gone to the cook tent the
rehearsal took place in the menagerie tent.  Faithful to his
promise, Mr. Sparling kept away, but a pair of eyes representing
him was peering through a pin-hole in the canvas stretched across
the main opening where the ticket takers stood when at work.
"That's great, kid!  Great, you bet!" shouted Mr. Kennedy after a
successful trial of their new apparatus.
With light heart, an expansive grin overspreading his
countenance, the lad ran to the cook tent for his supper.  He
came near missing it as it was, for the cook was about to close
the tent. Mr. Sparling, who was standing near the exit, nodded to
the chief steward to give Phil and Mr. Kennedy their suppers.
"Well, did the rehearsal fall down?" he asked, with a quizzical
smile on his face.
"It fell down, but not in the way you think," laughed Phil
No further questions were asked of him.
That night, when the grand entry opened the show to a packed
house, a shout of laughter from the great assemblage greeted the
entrance of old Emperor.  Emperor was clad in a calico gown of
ancient style, with a market basket tucked in the curl of his
trunk.  But the most humorous part of the long-suffering
elephant's makeup was his head gear.
There, perched jauntily to one side was the most wonderful bonnet
that any of the vast audience ever had gazed upon.  It was tied
with bright red ribbons under Emperor's chops with a collection
of vari-colored, bobbing roses protruding from its top.
Altogether it was a very wonderful piece of head gear.
The further the act proceeded the more the humor of Emperor's
makeup appeared to impress the audience.  They laughed and
laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks, while the elephant
himself, appearing to share in the humor of the hour, never
before had indulged in so many funny antics.
Mr. Kennedy, familiar with side-splitting exhibitions, forgot
himself so far as actually to laugh out loud.
But where was Phil Forrest?  Thus far everybody had been too much
interested in the old lady with the trunk and the market basket
to give a thought to the missing boy, though some of the
performers found themselves wondering if he had closed with the
show already.
Those of the performers not otherwise engaged at the moment were
assembled inside the big top at one side of the bandstand, fairly
holding their sides with laughter over old Emperor's exhibition.
Standing back in the shadow of the seats, where the rays from the
gasoline lamps did not reach, stood Mr. Sparling, a pleased smile
on his face, his eyes twinkling with merriment.  It was a good
act that could draw from James Sparling these signs of approval.
The act was nearing its close.
The audience thought they had seen the best of it.  But there was
still a surprise to come--a surprise that they did not even dream
The time was at hand for the elephants to rear in a grand finale.
An attendant quietly led Jupiter from the ring and to his
quarters, Emperor making a circuit of the sawdust arena to cover
the going of the other elephant and that there might be no
cessation of action in the exhibition.
Emperor and his trainer finally halted, standing facing the
reserved seats, as motionless as statues.
The audience sat silent and expectant.  They felt that something
still was before them, but what they had not the least idea, of
"Up, Emperor!" commanded Mr. Kennedy in a quiet voice. "All
ready, Phil."
The elephant reared slowly on its hind legs, going higher and
higher, as it did in its regular performance.
As he went up, the bonnet on Emperor's head was seen to take on
sudden life.  The old calico gown fell away from the huge beast
at the same time, leaving him clothed in a brilliant blanket of
white and gold.
But a long drawn "a-h-h-h," rippled over the packed seats as the
old elephant's bonnet suddenly collapsed.
Out of the ruins rose a slender, supple figure, topping the
pyramid of elephant flesh in a graceful poise.  The figure, clad
in red silk tights, appeared to be that of a beautiful girl.
The audience broke out into a thunder of approval, their feet
drumming on the board seats sounding not unlike the rattle of
The girl's hand was passed around to the back of her waist, where
it lingered for an instant, then both hands were thrown forward
just as a diver does before taking the plunge.
The young girl floated out and off from the elephant's back,
landing gently on her feet just outside the sawdust ring.
Emperor, at this juncture, threw himself forward on his forelegs,
stretched out his trunk, encircling the performer's waist and
lifting her clear off the ground.
At that moment the supposed young woman stripped her blonde wig
from her head, revealing the fact that the supposed girl was no
girl at all.  It was a boy, and that boy was Phil Forrest.
Emperor, holding his young friend at full length ahead of him,
started rapidly for his quarters, Phil lying half on his side,
appearing to be floating on the air, save for the black trunk
that held him securely in its grip.
At this the audience fairly howled in its surprise and delight,
but Phil never varied his pose by a hair's breadth until Emperor
finally set him down, flushed and triumphant, in the menagerie
At that moment Phil became conscious of a figure running toward
He discovered at once that it was Mr. Sparling.
Grasping both the lad's hands, the showman wrung them until it
seemed to Phil as if his arms would be wrenched from their
"Great, great, great!" cried the owner of the show.
"Did you like it?" questioned the blushing Phil.
"Like it?  Like it?  Boy, it's the greatest act I ever saw. It's
a winner.  Come back with me."
"What, into the ring?"
"But what shall I do?"
"You don't have to do anything.  You've done it already. Show
yourself, that's all.  Hurry!  Don't you hear them howling like a
band of Comanche Indians?"
"They want you."
By this time Mr. Sparling was fairly dragging Phil along with
him. As they entered the big top the cheering broke out afresh.
Phil was more disturbed than ever before in his life.  It seemed
as though his legs would collapse under him.
"Buck up!  Buck up!" snapped the showman.  "You are not going to
get an attack of stage fright at this late hour, are you?"
That was exactly what was the matter with Phil Forrest.  He was
nearly scared out of his wits, but he did not realize the nature
of his affliction.
"Bow and kiss your hand to them," admonished the showman.
Phil did so, but his face refused to smile.  He couldn't have
smiled at that moment to save his life.
All at once he wrenched himself loose from Mr. Sparling's grip,
and ran full speed for the dressing tent.  He had not gone more
than a dozen feet before he tripped over a rope, landing on head
and shoulders.  But Phil was up like a rubber man and off again
as if every animal in the menagerie was pursuing him.
The spectators catching the meaning of his flight, stood up in
their seats and howled lustily.
Phil Forrest had made a hit that comes to few men in the sawdust
A STROKE OF GOOD FORTUNE
"That was a knockout, kid," nodded Mr. Miaco, with emphasis. "I'm
laughing on the inside of me yet.  I don't dare let my face
laugh, for fear the wrinkles will break through my makeup."
"Thank you," smiled Phil, tugging at his silk tights, that fitted
so closely as to cause him considerable trouble in stripping them
"You'll have the whole show jealous of you if you don't watch
out. But don't get a swelled head--"
"Not unless I fall off and bump it," laughed Phil.  "Where do I
"You always want to get a pail of water before you undress."
"Say, Phil, did you really fly?" queried Teddy, who was standing
by eyeing his companion admiringly.
"Sure.  Didn't you see me?"
"I did and I didn't.  Will you show me how to fly like that?"
" 'Course I will.  You come in under the big top tomorrow after
the show and I'll give you a lesson."
Teddy had not happened to observe the simple mechanical
arrangement that had permitted the young circus performer to
carry out his flying act.
"I reckon you ought to get a dollar a day for that stunt,"
decided Teddy.
"Yes, I think so myself," grinned Phil.
Teddy now turned his attention to Mr. Miaco, who, made up for his
clown act in the ring, presented a most grotesque appearance.
"How do I look?" asked the clown, noting the lad's observant
"You look as if you'd stuck your head in a flour barrel," grunted
"Ho ho," laughed the clown.  "I'll have to try that on the
audience. That's a good joke.  To look at you, one wouldn't think
it of you, either."
"Oh, that's nothing.  I can say funnier things than that when I
want to.  Why--"
But their conversation was cut short by the band striking up the
tune to which Mr. Miaco always entered the ring.
"Listen to me, kid.  You'll hear them laugh when I tell 'em the
story," he called back.  And they did.  The audience roared when
the funny man told them what his young friend had said.
His work for the day having been finished, Phil bethought himself
of his trunk, which had not yet been packed.  His costume was
suspended from a line in the dressing tent where many other
costumes were hanging to air and dry after the strenuous labors
of their owners.
Phil took his slender belongings down, shook them out well and
laid them in the trunk that Mrs. Waite had given him.  It was too
late for Phil to get his bag from the baggage wagon, so with a
grin he locked his tights and his wig in the trunk.
"Guess they won't break their backs lifting that outfit," he
Phil then strolled in to watch the show.  He found many new
points of interest and much that was instructive, as he studied
each act attentively and with the keenness of one who had been in
the show business all his life.
"Someday I'll have a show like this myself," nodded the boy. He
did not know that he expressed his thoughts aloud until he
noticed that the people sitting nearest to him were regarding him
with amused smiles.
Phil quickly repressed his audible comments.
The show was soon over; then came the noise and the confusion of
the breaking up.  The illusion was gone--the glamor was a thing
of the past.  The lad strolled about slowly in search of his
companion, whom he eventually found in the dressing tent.
"Teddy, isn't it about time you and I went to bed?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know.  Circus people sleep when there isn't anything
else to do.  Where we going to sleep?"
"Same place, I presume, if no one gets ahead of us."
"They'd better not.  I'll throw them out if they do."
Phil laughed good-naturedly.
"If I remember correctly, somebody was thrown out last night and
this morning, but it didn't happen to be the other fellow. I'm
hungry; wish I had something to eat."
"So am I," agreed Teddy.
"You boys should get a sandwich or so and keep the stuff in your
trunk while we are playing these country towns.  When we get into
the cities, where they have restaurants, you can get a lunch
downtown after you have finished your act and then be back in
time to go out with the wagons," Mr. Miaco informed them.
"You'll pick up these little tricks as we go along, and it won't
be long before you are full-fledged showmen.  You are pretty near
that point already."
The lads strolled out on the lot and began hunting for their
wagon. They found nothing that looked like it for sometime and
had about concluded that the canvas wagon had gone, when they
chanced to come across the driver of the previous night, who
directed them to where they would find it.
"The wagon isn't loaded yet.  You'll have to wait half an hour or
so," he said.
They thanked him and went on in the direction indicated, where
they soon found that which they were in search of.
"I think we had better wait here until it is loaded," advised
Phil, throwing himself down on the ground.
"This having to hunt around over a ten-acre lot for your bedroom
every night isn't as much fun as you would think, is it?" grinned
"Might be worse.  I have an idea we haven't begun to experience
the real hardships of the circus life."  And indeed they had not.
Soon after that the wagon was loaded, and, bidding the driver a
cheery good night, the circus boys tumbled in and crawled under
They were awakened sometime before daylight by a sudden heavy
downpour of rain.  The boys were soaked to the skin, the water
having run in under the canvas until they were lying in a puddle
There was thunder and lightning.  Phil scrambled out first and
glanced up at the driver, who, clothed in oilskins, was huddled
on his seat fast asleep.  He did not seem to be aware that there
was anything unusual about the weather.
"I wish I was home," growled Teddy.
"Well, I don't.  Bad as it is, it's better than some other things
that I know of.  I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll get rubber
coats for us both when we get in in the morning."
"Got the money?"
"That's so.  I had forgotten that," laughed Phil.  "I never
thought that I should need money to buy a coat with.  We'll have
to wait until payday.  I wonder when that is?"
"Ask Mr. Sparling."
"No; I would rather not."
"All right; get wet then."
"I am.  I couldn't be any more so were I to jump in the mill pond
at home," laughed Phil.
Home!  It seemed a long way off to these two friendless, or at
least homeless, boys, though the little village of Edmeston was
less than thirty miles away.
The show did not get in to the next town until sometime after
daylight, owing to the heavy condition of the roads.  The cook
tent was up when they arrived and the lads lost no time in
scrambling from the wagon.  They did not have to be thrown out
this morning.
"Come on," shouted Phil, making a run for the protection of the
cook tent, for the rain was coming down in sheets.
Teddy was not far behind.
"I'm the coffee boy.  Where's the coffee?" he shouted.
"Have it in a few minutes," answered the attendant who had been
so kind to them the previous morning.  "Here, you boys, get over
by the steam boiler there and dry out your clothes," he added,
noting that their teeth were chattering.
"Wish somebody would pour a pail of water over me," shivered
"Water?  What for?"
"To wash the rain off.  I'm soaked," he answered humorously.
They huddled around the steam boiler, the warmth from which they
found very comforting in their bedraggled condition.
"I'm steaming like an engine," laughed Phil, taking off his coat
and holding it near the boiler.
"Yes; I've got enough of it in my clothes to run a sawmill,"
agreed Teddy.  "How about that coffee?"
"Here it is."
After helping themselves they felt much better.  Phil, after a
time, walked to the entrance of the cook tent and looked out. The
same bustle and excitement as on the previous two days was
noticeable everywhere, and the men worked as if utterly oblivious
of the fact that the rain was falling in torrents.
"Do we parade today?" called Phil, observing Mr. Sparling
hurrying past wrapped in oilskins and slouch hat.
"This show gives a parade and two performances a day, rain,
shine, snow or earthquake," was the emphatic answer.  "Come over
to my tent in half an hour.  I have something to say to you."
Phil ran across to Mr. Sparling's tent at the expiration of half
an hour, but he was ahead of time evidently, for the showman was
not there.  Nice dry straw had been piled on the ground in the
little tent to take up the moisture, giving it a cosy,
comfortable look inside.
"This wouldn't be a half bad place to sleep," decided Phil,
looking about him.  "I don't suppose we ever play the same town
two nights in succession.  I must find out."
Mr. Sparling bustled in at this point, stripping off his wet
oilskins and hanging them on a hook on the tent pole at the
further end.
"Where'd you sleep?"
"In wagon No. 10."
"We dried out in the cook tent when we got in.  It might have
been worse."
"Easily satisfied, aren't you?"
"I don't know about that.  I expect to meet with some
disagreeable experiences."
"You won't be disappointed.  You'll get all that's coming to you.
It'll make a man of you if you stand it."
"And if I don't?" questioned Phil Forrest, with a smile.
Mr. Sparling answered by a shrug of the shoulders.
"We'll have to make some different arrangements for you," he
added in a slightly milder tone.  "Can't afford to have you get
sick and knock your act out.  It's too important.  I'll fire some
lazy, good-for-nothing performer out of a closed wagon and give
you his place."
"Oh, I should rather not have you do that, sir."
"Who's running this show?" snapped the owner.
Phil made no reply.
"I am.  I'll turn out whom I please and when I please.  I've been
in the business long enough to know when I've got a good thing.
Where's your rubber coat?" he demanded, changing the subject
"I have none, sir.  I shall get an outfit later."
"No money, I suppose?"
"Well, no, sir."
"Humph!  Why didn't you ask for some?"
"I did not like to."
"You're too modest.  If you want a thing go after it.  That's my
motto. Here's ten dollars.  Go downtown and get you a coat, and
be lively about it.  Wait a minute!" as Phil, uttering profuse
thanks, started away to obey his employer's command.
"About that act of yours.  Did you think it out all yourself?"
"The idea was mine.  Of course the property man and Mr. Kennedy
worked it out for me.  I should not have been able to do it
"Humph!  Little they did.  They wouldn't have thought of it in a
thousand years.  Performers usually are too well satisfied with
themselves to think there's anything worthwhile except what
they've been doing since they came out of knickerbockers. How'd
you get the idea?"
"I don't know--it just came to me."
"Then keep on thinking.  That act is worth real money to any
show. How much did I say I'd pay you?"
"Ten dollars a week, sir."
"Humph!  I made a mistake.  I won't give you ten."
Phil looked solemn.
"I'll give you twenty.  I'd give you more, but it might spoil
you. Get out of here and go buy yourself a coat."
HIS FIRST SETBACK
"Tha--thank--"
"Out with you!"
Laughing, his face flushed with pride and satisfaction, Phil did
move. Not even pausing to note what direction he should go, he
hurried on toward the village, perhaps more by instinct than
otherwise.  He was too full of this wonderful thing that had come
to him--success--to take note of his surroundings.
To Phil there was no rain.  Though he already was drenched to the
skin he did not know it.
All at once he pulled himself up sharply.
"Phil Forrest, you are getting excited," he chided.  "Now, don't
you try to make yourself believe you are the whole show, for you
are only a little corner of it.  You are not even a side show.
You are a lucky boy, but you are going to keep your head level
and try to earn your money.  Twenty dollars a week!  Why, it's
wealth!  I can see Uncle Abner shaking his stick when he hears of
it.  I must write to Mrs. Cahill and tell her the good news.
She'll be glad, though I'll warrant the boys at home will be
jealous when they hear about how I am getting on in the world."
Thus talking to himself, Phil plodded on in the storm until he
reached the business part of the town.  There he found a store
and soon had provided himself with a serviceable rubber coat, a
pair of rubber boots and a soft hat.  He put on his purchases,
doing up his shoes and carrying them back under his arm.
The parade started at noon.  It was a dismal affair--that is, so
far as the performers were concerned, and the clowns looked much
more funny than they felt.
Mr. Miaco enlivened the spirits of those on the hayrack by
climbing to the back of one of the horses drawing the clowns'
wagon, where he sat with a doll's parasol over his head and a
doll in his arms singing a lullaby.
The people who were massed along the sidewalks of the main street
did not appear to mind the rain at all.  They were too much
interested in the free show being given for their benefit.
The show people ate dinner with their feet in the mud that day,
the cook tent having been pitched on a barren strip of ground.
"This is where the Armless Wonder has the best of us today,"
nodded Teddy, with his usual keen eye for humor.
"How is that?" questioned Mr. Miaco.
" 'Cause he don't have to put his feet in the mud like the rest
of us do.  He keeps them on the table.  I wish I could put my
feet on the table."
Everybody within hearing laughed heartily.
In the tents there was little to remind one of the dismal
weather, save for the roar of the falling rain on the canvas
overhead. Straw had been piled all about on the ground inside the
two large tents, and only here and there were there any muddy
spots, though the odor of fresh wet grass was everywhere.
The afternoon performance went off without a hitch, though the
performers were somewhat more slow than usual, owing to the
uncertainty of the footing for man and beast.  Phil Forrest's
exhibition was even more successful than it had been in the last
show town.  He was obliged to run back to the ring and show
himself after having been carried from the tent by Emperor. This
time, however, his stage fright had entirely left him, never to
return.  He was now a seasoned showman, after something less than
three days under canvas.
The afternoon show being finished, and supper out of the way,
Phil and Teddy returned to the big top to practice on the flying
rings, which they had obtained permission to use.
Mr. Miaco, himself an all around acrobat, was on hand to watch
their work and to offer suggestions.  He had taken a keen
interest in Phil Forrest, seeing in the lad the making of a
high-class circus performer.
The rings were let down to within about ten feet of the sawdust
ring, and one at a time the two lads were hoisted by the clown
until their fingers grasped the iron rings.
With several violent movements of their bodies they curled their
feet up, slipping them through the rings, first having grasped
the ropes above the rings.
"That was well done.  Quite professional," nodded the clown.
"Take hold of this rope and I will swing you.  If it makes you
dizzy, tell me."
"Don't worry; it won't," laughed Phil.
"Give me a shove, too," urged Teddy.
"In a minute."
Mr. Miaco began swinging Phil backwards and forwards, his speed
ever increasing, and as he went higher and higher, Phil let
himself down, fastening his hands on the rings that he might
assist in the swinging.
"Now, see if you can get back in the rings with your legs."
"That's easy," answered Phil, his breath coming sharp and fast,
for he never had taken such a long sweep in the rings before.
The feat was not quite so easy as he had imagined.  Phil made
three attempts before succeeding.  But he mastered it and came up
"Good," cried the clown, clapping his hands approvingly.
"Give me another swing.  I want to try something else."
Having gained sufficient momentum, the lad, after reaching the
point where the rings would start on their backward flight,
permitted his legs to slip through the rings, catching them with
He swept back, head and arms hanging down, as skillfully as if he
had been doing that very thing right along.
"You'll do," emphasized the clown.  "You will need to put a
little more finish in your work.  I'll give you a lesson in that
Teddy, not to be outdone, went through the same exhibition,
though not quite with the same speed that Phil had shown.
It being the hour when the performers always gathered in the big
top to practice and play, many of them stood about watching the
boys work.  They nodded their heads approvingly when Phil
finished and swung himself to the ground.
Teddy, on his part, overrated his ability when it came to hanging
by his feet.
"Look out!" warned half a dozen performers at once.
He had not turned his left foot into the position where it would
catch and hold in the ring.  Their trained eyes had noted this
omission instantly.
The foot, of course, failed to catch, and Teddy uttered a howl
when he found himself falling.  His fall, however, was checked by
a sharp jolt.  The right foot had caught properly.  As he swept
past the laughing performers he was dangling in the air like a
huge spider, both hands and one foot clawing the air in a
desperate manner.
There was nothing they could do to liberate him from his
uncomfortable position until the momentum of his swing had
lessened sufficiently to enable them to catch him.
"Hold your right steady!" cautioned Miaco.  "If you twist it
you'll take a beauty tumble."
Teddy hadn't thought of that before.  Had Miaco known the lad
better he would not have made the mistake of giving that advice.
Teddy promptly turned his foot.
He shot from the flying rings as if he had been fired from a
Phil tried to catch him, but stumbled and fell over a rope, while
Teddy shot over his head, landing on and diving head first into a
pile of straw that had just been brought in to bed down the tent
for the evening performance.
Nothing of Teddy save his feet was visible.
They hauled him out by those selfsame feet, and, after
disentangling him from the straws that clung to him, were
relieved to find that he had not been hurt in the least.
"I guess we shall have to put a net under you.  Lucky for you
that that pile of straw happened to get in your way.  Do you know
what would have happened to you had it not been?" demanded Mr.
"I--I guess I'd have made a hit," decided Teddy wisely.
"I guess there is no doubt about that."
The performers roared.
"I'm going to try it again."
"No; you've done enough for one day.  You won't be able to hold
up the coffeepot tomorrow morning if you do much more."
"Do you think we will be able to accomplish anything on the
flying rings, Mr. Miaco?" asked Phil after they had returned to
the dressing tent.
"There is no doubt of it.  Were I in your place I should take an
hour's work on them every day.  Besides building you up
generally, it will make you surer and better able to handle
yourself. Then, again, you never know what minute you may be able
to increase your income.  People in this business often profit by
others' misfortunes," added the clown significantly.
"I would prefer not to profit that way," answered Phil.
"You would rather do it by your own efforts?"
"It all amounts to the same thing.  You are liable to be put out
any minute yourself, then somebody else will get your job, if you
are a performer of importance to the show."
"You mean if my act is?"
"That's what I mean."
The old clown and the enthusiastic young showman talked in the
dressing tent until it was time for each to begin making up for
the evening performance.
The dressing tent was the real home of the performers.  They knew
no other.  It was there that they unpacked their trunks--there
that during their brief stay they pinned up against the canvas
walls the pictures of their loved ones, many of whom were far
across the sea. A bit of ribbon here, a faded flower drawn from
the recess of a trunk full of silk and spangles, told of the
tender hearts that were beating beneath those iron-muscled
breasts, and that they were as much human beings as their
brothers in other walks of life.
Much of this Phil understood in a vague way as he watched them
from day to day.  He was beginning to like these big-hearted,
big-muscled fellows, though there were those among them who were
not desirable as friends.
"I guess it's just the same as it is at home," decided Phil.
"Some of the folks are worthwhile, and others are not."
He had summed it up.
Sometime before the evening performance was due to begin Phil was
made up and ready for his act.  As his exhibition came on at the
very beginning he had to be ready early.  Then, again, he was
obliged to walk all the way to the menagerie tent to reach his
Throwing a robe over his shoulders and pulling his hat well down
over his eyes, the lad pushed the silken curtains aside and began
working his way toward the front, beating against the human tide
that had set in against him, wet, dripping, but good natured.
"Going to have a wet night," observed Teddy, whom he met at the
entrance to the menagerie tent.
"Looks that way.  But never mind; I'll share my rubber coat with
you. We can put it over us and sit up to sleep.  That will make a
waterproof tent.  Perhaps we may be able to find a stake or
something to stick up in the middle of the coat."
"But the canvas under us will be soaked," grumbled Teddy. "We'll
be wetter than ever."
"We'll gather some straw and tie it up in a tight bundle to put
under us when we get located.  There goes the band.  I must be
off, or you'll hear Emperor screaming for me."
"He's at it now.  Hear him?"
"I couldn't well help hearing that roar," laughed Phil, starting
off on a run.
The grand entry was made, Phil crouching low in the bonnet on the
big beast's head.  It was an uncomfortable position, but he did
not mind it in the least.  The only thing that troubled Phil was
the fear that the head gear might become disarranged and spoil
the effect of his surprise.  There were many in the tent who had
seen him make his flight at the afternoon performance, and had
returned with their friends almost solely to witness the pretty
spectacle again.
The time had arrived for Emperor to rise for his grand salute to
the audience.  Mr. Kennedy had given Phil his cue, the lad had
braced himself to straighten up suddenly.  A strap had been
attached to the elephant's head harness for Phil to take hold of
to steady himself by when he first straightened up.  Until his
position was erect Emperor could not grasp the boy's legs with
"Right!" came the trainer's command.
The circus boy thrust out his elbows, and the bonnet fell away,
as he rose smiling to face the sea of white, expectant faces
While they were applauding he fastened the flying wire to the
ring in his belt.  The wire, which was suspended from above, was
so small that it was wholly invisible to the spectators, which
heightened the effect of his flight.  So absorbed were the people
in watching the slender figure each time that they failed to
observe an attendant hauling on a rope near the center pole,
which was the secret of Phil's ability to fly.
Throwing his hands out before him the little performer dove
gracefully out into the air.
There was a slight jolt.  Instantly he knew that something was
wrong. The audience, too, instinctively felt that the act was not
ending as it should.
Phil was falling.  He was plunging straight toward the ring, head
first.  He struck heavily, crumpling up in a little heap, then
straightening out, while half a dozen attendants ran to the lad,
hastily picking him up and hurrying to the dressing tent with the
limp, unconscious form.
CHAPTER XVII
"Is he hurt much?"
"Don't know.  Maybe he's broken his neck."
This brief dialogue ensued between two painted clowns hurrying to
their stations.
In the meantime the band struck up a lively air, the clowns
launched into a merry medley of song and jest and in a few
moments the spectators forgot the scene they had just witnessed,
in the noise, the dash and the color.  It would come back to them
later like some long-past dream.
Mr. Kennedy, with grim, set face, uttered a stern command to
Emperor, who for a brief instant had stood irresolute, as if
pondering as to whether he should turn and plunge for the red
silk curtains behind which his little friend had disappeared in
the arms of the attendants.
The trainer's voice won, and Emperor trumpeting loudly, took his
way to his quarters without further protest.
In the dressing tent another scene was being enacted.  On two
drawn-up trunks, over which had been thrown a couple of horse
blankets, they had laid the slender, red-clad figure of Phil
The boy's pale face appeared even more ashen than it really was
under the flickering glare of the gasoline torches.  His head had
been propped up on a saddle, while about him stood a half circle
of solemn-faced performers in various stages of undress and
"Is he badly hurt?" asked one.
"Can't say.  Miaco has gone for the doc.  We'll know pretty soon.
That was a dandy tumble he took."
"How did it happen?"
"Wire broke.  You can't put no faith on a wire with a kink in it.
I nearly got my light put out, out in St. Joe, Missouri, by a
trick like that.  No more swinging wire for me.  Guess the kid,
if he pulls out of this, will want to hang on to a rope after
this. He will if he's wise."
"What's this?  What's this?" roared Mr. Sparling, who, having
heard of the accident, came rushing into the tent.  "Who's hurt?"
"The kid," informed someone.
"What kid?  Can't you fellows talk?  Oh, it's Forrest, is it? How
did it happen?"
One of the performers who had witnessed the accident related what
he had observed.
"Huh!" grunted the showman, stepping up beside Phil and placing a
hand on the boy's heart.
"He's alive, isn't he, Mr. Sparling?"
"Yes.  Anybody gone for the doctor?"
"Miaco has."
"Wonder any of you had sense enough to think of that. I
congratulate you.  Somebody will suffer when I find out who was
responsible for hanging that boy's life on a rotten old piece of
wire.  I presume it's been kicking around this outfit for the
last seven years."
"Here comes the doc," announced a voice.
There was a tense silence in the dressing tent, broken only by
the patter of the rain drops on the canvas roof, while the show's
surgeon was making his examination.
"Well, well!  What about it?" demanded Mr. Sparling impatiently.
The surgeon did not answer at once.  His calm, professional
demeanor was not to be disturbed by the blustering but kind-
hearted showman, and the showman, knowing this from past
experience, relapsed into silence until such time as the surgeon
should conclude to answer him.
"Did he fall on his head?" he questioned, looking up, at the same
time running his fingers over Phil's dark-brown hair.
"Looks that way, doesn't it?"
"I should say so."
"What's the matter with him?"
"I shall be unable to decide definitely for an hour or so yet,
unless he regains consciousness in the meantime.  It may be a
fracture of the skull or a mere concussion."
Mr. Sparling would have said more, but for the fact that the calm
eyes of the surgeon were fixed upon him in a level gaze.
"Any bones broken?"
"No; I think not.  How far did he fall?"
"Fell from Emperor's head when the bull was up in the air. He
must have taken all of a twenty-foot dive, I should say."
"Possible?  It's a great wonder he didn't break his neck.  But he
is very well muscled for a boy of his age.  I don't suppose they
have a hospital in this town?"
"Of course not.  They never have anything in these tank towns.
You ought to know that by this time."
"They have a hotel.  I know for I took dinner there today.  If
you will get a carriage of some sort I think we had better take
"Leave him, you mean?" questioned Mr. Sparling.
"Yes; that will be best.  We can put him in charge of a local
physician here.  He ought to be able to take care of the boy all
"Not by a jug full!" roared Mr. James Sparling.  "We'll do
nothing of the sort."
"It will not be safe to take him with us, Sparling."
"Did I say it would?  Did I?  Of course, he shan't be moved, nor
will he be left to one of these know-nothing sawbones.  You'll
stay here with him yourself, and you'll take care of him if you
know what's good for you.  I'd rather lose most any five men in
this show than that boy there."
The surgeon nodded his approval of the sentiment.  He, too, had
taken quite a fancy to Phil, because of the lad's sunny
disposition and natural brightness.
"Get out the coach some of you fellows.  Have my driver hook up
and drive back into the paddock here, and be mighty quick about
it. Here, doc, is a head of lettuce (roll of money).  If you need
any more, you know where to reach us.  Send me a telegram in the
morning and another tomorrow night.  Keep me posted and pull that
boy out of this scrape or you'll be everlastingly out of a job
with the Sparling Combined Shows.  Understand?"
The surgeon nodded understandingly.  He had heard Mr. Sparling
bluster on other occasions, and it did not make any great
impression upon him.
The carriage was quickly at hand.  Circus people were in the
habit of obeying orders promptly.  A quick drive was made to the
hotel, where the circus boy was quickly undressed and put to bed.
All during the night the surgeon worked faithfully over his
little charge, and just as the first streaks of daylight slanted
through the window and across the white counterpane, Phil opened
For only a moment did they remain open, then closed again.
The surgeon drew a long, deep breath.
"Not a fracture," he announced aloud.  "I'm thankful for that."
He drew the window shades down to shut out the light, as it was
all important that Phil should be kept quiet for a time.  But the
surgeon did not sleep.  He sat keen-eyed by the side of the bed,
now and then noting the pulse of his patient, touching the lad's
cheeks with light fingers.
After a time the fresh morning air, fragrant with the fields and
flowers, drifted in, and the birds in the trees took up their
morning songs.
"I guess the storm must be over," muttered the medical man,
rising softly and peering out from behind the curtain.
The day was dawning bright and beautiful.
"My, it feels good to be in bed!" said a voice from the opposite
side of the room.  "Where am I?"
The surgeon wheeled sharply.
"You are to keep very quiet.  You had a tumble that shook you up
considerably."
"What time is it?" demanded Phil sharply.
"About five o'clock in the morning."
"I must get up; I must get up."
"You will lie perfectly still.  The show will get along without
you today, I guess."
"You don't mean they have gone on and left me?"
"Of course; they couldn't wait for you."
The boys eyes filled with tears.
"I knew it couldn't last.  I knew it."
"See here, do you want to join the show again?"
"Of course, I do."
"Well, then, lie still.  The more quiet you keep the sooner you
will be able to get out.  Try to go to sleep.  I must go
downstairs and send a message to Mr. Sparling, for he is very
much concerned about you."
"Then he will take me back?" asked Phil eagerly.
"Of course he will."
"I'll go to sleep, doctor."
Phil turned over on his side and a moment later was breathing
The doctor tip-toed from the room and hastened down to the hotel
office where he penned the following message:
James Sparling,
   Sparling Combined Shows,
      Boyertown.
   Forrest recovers consciousness.  Not a fracture.  Expect him
to be all right in a few days.  Will stay unless further orders.
     Irvine.
"I think I'll go upstairs and get a bit of a nap myself," decided
the surgeon, after having directed the sleepy clerk to see to it
that the message was dispatched to its destination at once.
He found Phil sleeping soundly.  Throwing himself into a chair
the surgeon, used to getting a catnap whenever and wherever
possible, was soon sleeping as soundly as was his young patient.
Neither awakened until the day was nearly done.
CHAPTER XVIII
A STARTLING DISCOVERY
Phil's recovery was rapid, though four days passed before he was
permitted to leave his bed.  As soon as he was able to get
downstairs and sit out on the front porch of the hotel he found
himself an object of interest as well as curiosity.
The story of his accident had been talked of until it had grown
out of all proportion to the real facts in the case.  The boys of
the village hung over the porch rail and eyed him wonderingly and
admiringly.  It did not fall to their lot every day to get
acquainted with a real circus boy.  They asked him all manner of
questions, which the lad answered gladly, for even though he had
suffered a severe accident, he was not beyond enjoying the
admiration of his fellows.
"It must be great to be a circus boy," marveled one.
"It is until you fall off and crack your head," laughed Phil.
"It's not half so funny then."
After returning to his room that day Phil pondered deeply over
the accident.  He could not understand it.
"Nobody seems to know what really did happen," he mused. "Dr.
Irvine says the wire broke.  That doesn't seem possible."
Off in the little dog tent of the owner of the show, Mr. James
Sparling, on the day following the accident, was asking himself
almost the same questions.
He sent for Mr. Kennedy after having disposed of his early
morning business.  There was a scowl on the owner's face, but it
had not been caused by the telegram which lay on the desk before
him, informing him that Phil was not seriously hurt.  That was a
source of keen satisfaction to the showman, for he felt that he
could not afford to lose the young circus boy.
Teddy was so upset over it, however, that the boss had about made
up his mind to let Phil's companion go back and join him.
While the showman was thinking the matter over, Mr. Kennedy
appeared at the opening of the dog tent.
"Morning," he greeted, which was responded to by a muttered
"Huh!" from James Sparling.
"Come in.  What are you standing out there for?"
Kennedy was so used to this form of salutation that he paid no
further attention to it than to obey the summons.
He entered and stood waiting for his employer to speak.
"I want you to tell me exactly what occurred last night, when
young Forrest got hurt, Kennedy."
"I can't tell you any more about it than you heard last night. He
had started to make his dive before I noticed that anything was
wrong.  He didn't stop until he landed on his head.  They said
the wire snapped."
"I guess so," grinned Kennedy.
"Who is responsible for having picked out that wire?"
"I guess I am."
"And you have the face to stand there and tell me so?"
"I usually tell the truth, don't I?"
"Yes, yes; you do.  That's what I like about you."
"Heard from the kid this morning?"
"Yes; he'll be all right in a few days.  Concussion and general
shaking up; that's all, but it's enough.  How are the bulls this
"Emperor is sour.  Got a regular grouch on."
"Misses that young rascal Phil, I suppose?"
"Didn't want to come through last night at all."
"H-m-m-m.  Guess we'd better fire you and let the boy handle the
bulls; don't you think so?"
The trainer grinned and nodded.
"Kennedy, you've been making your brags that you always tell me
the truth.  I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to
see if you can make that boast good."
Perhaps the trainer understood something of what was in his
employer's mind, for his lips closed sharply while his jaw took
on a belligerent look.
"How did that wire come to break, Kennedy?"
The question came out with a snap, as if the showman already had
made up his mind as to what the answer should be.
"It was cut, sir," answered the trainer promptly.
The lines in Mr. Sparling's face drew hard and tense.  Instead of
a violent outburst of temper, which Kennedy fully expected, the
owner sat silently contemplating his trainer for a full minute.
"Who did it?"
"I couldn't guess."
"I didn't ask you to guess.  I can guess for myself.  I asked who
"I don't know.  I haven't the least idea who would do a job like
that in this show.  I hope the mean hound will take French leave
before I get him spotted, sir."
Mr. Sparling nodded with emphasis.
"I hope so, Kennedy.  What makes you think the wire was cut?"
With great deliberation the trainer drew a small package from his
inside coat pocket, carefully unwrapped it, placing the contents
on the table in front of Mr. Sparling.
"What's this--what's this?"
"That's the wire."
"But there are two pieces here--"
"Yes.  I cut off a few feet on each side of where the break
occurred. Those are the two."
Mr. Sparling regarded them critically.
"How can you tell that the wire has been cut, except where you
cut it yourself?"
"It was cut halfway through with a file, as you can see, sir.
When Forrest threw his weight on it, of course the wire parted at
the weakened point."
"If you will examine it, an inch or two above the cut, you will
find two or three file marks, where the file started to cut, then
was moved down.  Probably slipped.  Looks like it.  Don't you
think I'm right, sir?"
Mr. Sparling nodded reflectively.
"There can be no doubt of it.  You think it was done between the
two performances yesterday?"
"Oh, yes.  That cut wouldn't have held through one performance.
It was cut during the afternoon."
"Who was in the tent between the shows?"
"Pretty much the whole crowd.  But, if you will remember, the day
was dark and stormy.  There was a time late in the afternoon,
before the torches were lighted, when the big top was almost in
darkness.  It's my idea that the job was done then. Anybody could
have done it without being discovered.  It's likely there wasn't
anybody in the tent except himself at the time."
"Kennedy, I want you to find out who did that.  Understand?"
TEDDY DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF
"The boss has an awful grouch on."
"Yes; I wonder what's the matter with him," pondered the clown.
His brother fun-maker shrugged his shoulders.
"Guess he's mad because of young Forrest's accident.  Just got a
good act started when he had to go and spoil it."
Not a hint of the suspicion entertained by the owner and his
elephant trainer had been breathed about the show.  Nearly a week
had passed since Phil's narrow escape from death; yet, despite
all the efforts of Kennedy or the shrewd observation of his
employer, they were no nearer a solution of the mystery than
before.  The days passed, and with them the anger of James
Sparling increased.
"That chum of Forrest's is a funny fellow," continued the first
speaker.  "He'd make a good clown?"
"Make?  He's one already.  Look at him."
Teddy was perched on the back of Jumbo, the trick mule of the
show, out in the paddock, where the performers were indulging in
various strange antics for the purpose of limbering themselves up
prior to entering the ring for their acts.
The bright, warm sunlight was streaming down, picking up little
flames from the glistening spangles sprinkled over the costumes
of many of the circus folks.
Teddy and Jumbo had become fast friends--a strangely assorted
pair, and whenever the opportunity presented itself Teddy would
mount the ugly looking mule, riding him about the paddock or the
ring when there was nothing going on under the big top.  Every
time the pair made their appearance it was the signal for a shout
of merriment from the performers.
Teddy had perched himself on Jumbo's back while the mule was
awaiting his turn to enter the ring, which he did alone,
performing his act with nothing save the crack of the
ringmaster's whip to guide him.
Somebody had jammed a clown's cap on Teddy's head, while someone
else had hit it a smash with the flat of his hand, until the peak
of the cap lopped over to one side disconsolately.
Teddy's face wore an appreciative grin, Jumbo's long ears lying
as far back on his head as they would reach.  To the ordinary
observer it might have been supposed that the mule was angry
about something. On the contrary, it was his way of showing his
pleasure.  When a pan of oats was thrust before Jumbo, or he
chanced upon a patch of fresh, tender grass, the ears expressed
the animal's satisfaction.
Jumbo could do pretty much everything except talk, but
occasionally the stubbornness of his kind took possession of him.
At such times the trick mule was wont to do the most erratic
"How'd you like to ride him in?" chuckled Miaco, who stood
regarding the lad with a broad smile.
"If I had a saddle I wouldn't mind it," grinned Teddy's funny
face as an accompaniment to his words.
Jumbo's equipment consisted of a cinch girth and a pair of bridle
reins connected with a headstall.  There was no bit, but the
effect was to arch his neck like that of a proud stallion.
"You'd make the hit of your life if you did," laughed Miaco.
"Wonder the boss don't have you do it."
"Would if he knew about it," spoke up a performer.  "The really
funny things don't get into the ring in a circus, unless by
In the meantime the ringmaster was making his loud-voiced
announcement out under the big top.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he roared, after a loud crack of his
long-lashed whip, to attract the attention of the people to him,
"we are now about to introduce the wonderful performing mule
Jumbo, the only broncho-bucking, bobtailed mule in the world.
You will notice that he performs without a rider, without human
interference. Please do not speak to Jumbo while he is going
through his act. Ladies and gentlemen, Jumbo, the great educated
mule, will now make his appearance unaided by human hand."
The audience applauded the announcement.
At that moment the band struck up the tune by which Jumbo always
made his entrance.  At the first blare of the brass a fun-loving
clown jabbed Jumbo with a pin.  The mule did the rest.
"Here!  Here!  Get off that mule!" shouted the animal's trainer.
"He's going on!"
"Let him go!" roared clowns and other performers.
Jumbo had never made as quick a start in all his circus career as
he did that day.  He fairly leaped into the air, though only one
man understood the reason for the mule's sudden move.
With a bray that was heard all over the big top Jumbo burst
through the red curtains like a tornado.  There he paused for one
brief instant, as if uncertain whether to do a certain thing or
Recalling the ringmaster's words, the spectators at first were at
a loss to account for the odd-looking figure that was clinging to
the back of the educated mule.
Suddenly they broke out into roars of laughter, while the
performers peering through the red curtain fairly howled with
Teddy was hanging to the cinch girth uncertain what to do. The
ringmaster, amazed beyond words, stood gaping at the spectacle,
for the moment powerless to use his usually ready tongue.
Jumbo launched into the arena.
"Get off!" thundered the ringmaster, suddenly recovering himself.
"I can't!" howled Teddy, though from present indications it
appeared as if he would dismount without any effort on his own
Jumbo's heels flew into the air, then began a series of lunges,
bucking and terrific kicking such as none among the vast audience
ever had witnessed in or out of a show ring.
One instant Teddy would be standing on his head on the mule's
back, the next lying on his back with feet toward the animal's
head. Next he would be dragged along the ground, to be plumped
back again at the next bounce.
No feat seemed too difficult for Jumbo to attempt that day.
"Stop him!  Stop him!" howled the ringmaster.
Ring attendants rushed forward to obey his command, but they
might as well have tried to stop a tornado.  Jumbo eluded them
without the least trouble, but their efforts to keep out of range
of his flying hoofs were not so easy.  Some of them had narrow
escapes from being seriously injured.
Mr. Sparling, attracted by the roars of laughter of the audience
and the unusual disturbance, had hurried into the big top, where
he stood, at first in amazement, then with a broad grin
overspreading his countenance.
Now Jumbo began a race with himself about the arena, following
the concourse, now and then sending his heels into the air right
over the heads of the spectators of the lower row of seats,
sending them scrambling under the seats for protection.
A clown ran out with half a dozen paper covered hoops, which he
was holding in readiness for the next bareback act.
He flaunted them in the face of the runaway mule.
Jumbo ducked his head under them and Teddy Tucker's head went
through the paper with a crash, the mule's heels at that instant
being high in the air.
With the rings hung about his neck, Teddy cut a more ridiculous
figure than ever.  The audience went wild with excitement.
Now the ringmaster, angered beyond endurance, began reaching for
Teddy with the long lash of his whip.  The business end of the
lash once brushed the boy's cheek.
It stung him.
"Ouch!" howled Teddy as he felt the lash.
"Stop that!" exploded Mr. Sparling, who, by this time, had gotten
into the ring to take a hand in the performance himself.  He
grabbed the irate ringmaster by the collar, giving him a jerk
that that functionary did not forget in a hurry.
Jumbo, however, was no respecter of persons.  He had taken a
short cut across the ring just as the owner had begun his
correction of the ringmaster.  Jumbo shook out his heels again.
They caught the owner's sombrero and sent it spinning into the
Mr. Sparling, in his excitement, forgot all about the ringmaster.
Picking up a tent stake, he hurled it after the educated mule,
missing him by a full rod.
The audience by this time was in a tempest of excitement.  At
first they thought it was all a part of the show.  But they were
soon undeceived, which made their enjoyment and appreciation all
the greater.
Jumbo took a final sprint about the arena, Teddy's legs and free
arm most of the time in the air.  He had long since lost his
clown's cap, which Jumbo, espying, had kicked off into the
"You fool mule!  You fool mule!" bellowed Mr. Sparling.
Jumbo suddenly decided that he would go back to the paddock.
With him, to decide was to act.  Taking a fresh burst of speed,
he shot straight at the red curtains.  To reach these he was
obliged to pass close to the bandstand, where the band was
playing as if the very existence of the show depended upon them.
Teddy's grip was relaxing.  His arm was so benumbed that he could
not feel that he had any arm on that side at all.
His fingers slowly relaxed their grip on the cinch girth.  In a
moment he had bounced back to the educated mule's rump.  In
another instant he would be plumped to the hard ground with a
jolt that would shake him to his foundations.
But Jumbo had other plans--more spectacular plans--in mind.  He
put them into execution at once.  The moment he felt his burden
slipping over his back that active end grew busy again.  Jumbo
humped himself, letting out a volley of kicks so lightning-like
in their swiftness that human eye could not follow.
Teddy had slipped half over the mule's rump when the volley
"Catch him!  He'll be killed!" shouted someone.
All at once the figure of Teddy Tucker shot straight up into the
air, propelled there by the educated mule.  The lad's body
described what somebody afterwards characterized as "graceful
somersault in the air," then began its downward flight.
He landed right in the midst of the band.
There was a yell of warning, a jingle and clatter of brass,
several chairs went down under the impact, the floor gave way and
half the band, with Teddy Tucker in the middle of the heap, sank
out of sight.
THE RETURN TO THE SAWDUST LIFE
"Is he dead?"
"No; you can't kill a thick-head like that," snarled the
The audience was still roaring.
With angry imprecations the members of the band who had fallen
through were untangling themselves as rapidly as possible. Teddy,
in the meantime, had dragged himself from beneath the heap and
slunk out from under the broken platform.  He lost no time in
escaping to the paddock, but the bandmaster, espying him, started
after the lad, waving his baton threateningly.
No sooner had Teddy gained the seclusion of the dressing tent
than James Sparling burst in.
"Where's that boy?  Where's that boy?"
"Here he is," grinned a performer, thrusting Teddy forward, much
against the lad's inclinations.
Mr. Sparling surveyed him with narrow eyes.
"You young rascal!  Trying to break up my show, are you?"
"N-no--sir."
"Can you do that again, do you think?"
"I--I don't know."
"That's the greatest Rube mule act that ever hit a sawdust ring.
I'll double your salary if you think you can get away with it
every performance," fairly shouted the owner.
"I--I'm willing if the mule is," stammered Teddy somewhat
As a result the lad left his job in the cook tent, never to
return to it.  After many hard knocks and some heavy falls he
succeeded in so mastering the act that he was able to go through
with it without great risk of serious injury to himself.  The
educated mule and the boy became a feature of the Sparling
Combined Shows from that moment on, but after that Teddy took
good care not to round off his act by a high dive into the big
No one was more delighted at Teddy Tucker's sudden leap to fame
than was his companion, Phil Forrest.  Phil and Dr. Irvine
returned to the show, one afternoon, about a week after the
accident.  They had come on by train.
Phil, though somewhat pale after his setback, was clear-eyed, and
declared himself as fit as ever.  He insisted upon going on with
his act at the evening performance, but Mr. Sparling told him to
wait until the day following.  In the meantime Phil could get his
apparatus in working order.
"I'll look it over myself this time," announced the showman. "I
don't want any more such accidents happening in this show. Your
friend Teddy nearly put the whole outfit to the bad--he and the
That afternoon Phil had an opportunity to witness for himself the
exhibition of his companion and the "fool mule."  He laughed
until his sides ached.
"O Teddy, you'll break your neck doing that stunt one of these
times," warned Phil, hastening back to the dressing tent after
Teddy and the mule had left the ring.
"Don't you think it's worth the risk?"
"That depends."
"For two dollars a day?"
"Is that what you are getting?"
"Yep.  I'm a high-priced performer," insisted Teddy, snapping his
trousers pocket significantly.  "I'd jump off the big top, twice
every day, for that figure."
"What are you going to do with all your money?  Spend it?"
"I--rather thought I'd buy a bicycle."
Phil shook his head.
"You couldn't carry it, and, besides, nobody rides bicycles these
days.  They ride in automobiles."
"Then I'll buy one of them."
"I'll tell you what you do, Teddy."
"Lend the money to you, eh?"
"No; I am earning plenty for myself.  But every week, now, I
shall send all my money home to Mrs. Cahill.  I wrote to her
about it while I was sick.  She is going to put it in the bank
for me at Edmeston, with herself appointed as trustee.  That's
necessary, you see, because I am not of age.  Then no one can
take it away from me."
"You mean your Uncle Abner?" questioned Teddy.
"Yes.  I don't know that he would want to; but I'm not taking any
chances.  Now, why not send your money along at the same time?
Mrs. Cahill will deposit it in the same way, and at the end of
the season think what a lot of money you will have?"
"Regular fortune?"
"Yes, a regular fortune."
"What'll I do with all that money?"
"Do what I'm going to do--get an education."
"What, and leave the show business?  No, siree!"
"I didn't mean that.  You can go to school between seasons. I
don't intend to leave the show business, but I'm going to know
something besides that."
"Well, I guess it would be a good idea," reflected Teddy.
"Will you do it?"
"Yes; I'll do it," he nodded.
"Good for you!  We'll own a show of our own, one of these days.
You mark me, Teddy," glowed Phil.
"Of our own?" marveled Teddy, his face wreathing in smiles. "Say,
wouldn't that be great?"
"I think so.  Have you been practicing on the rings since I
"That's too bad.  You and I will begin tomorrow.  We ought to be
pretty expert on the flying rings in a few weeks, if I don't get
hurt again," added the boy, a shadow flitting across his face.
"Then, you'd better begin by taking some bends," suggested Mr.
Miaco, who, approaching, had overheard Phil's remark.
"Bends?" questioned Teddy
"What are they?" wondered Phil.  "Oh, I know.  I read about them
in the papers.  It's an attack that fellows working in a tunnel
get when they're digging under a river.  I don't want anything
"No, no, no," replied Mr. Miaco in a tone of disgust.  "It's no
disease at all."
"What I mean by bends is exercises.  You have seen the performers
do it--bend forward until their hands touch the ground, legs
stiff, then tipping as far backwards as possible.  Those are
bending exercises, and the best things to do.  The performers
limber up for their act that way.  If you practice it slowly
several times a day you will be surprised to see what it will do
for you.  I'd begin today were I in your place, Phil.  You'll
find yourself a little stiff when you go on in your elephant act
"I'm not going on tonight--not until tomorrow.  Mr. Sparling
doesn't wish me to."
"All right.  All the better.  Exercise!  I wouldn't begin on the
rings today either.  Just take your bends, get steady on your
feet and start in in a regular, systematic way tomorrow," advised
the head clown.
"Thank you, Mr. Miaco; I shall do so.  I am much obliged to you.
You are very kind to us."
"Because I like you, and because you boys don't pretend to know
more about the circus business than men who have spent their
lives in it."
"I hope I shall never be like that," laughed Phil.  "I know I
shall always be willing to learn."
"And there always is something to learn in the circus life.  None
of us knows it all.  There are new things coming up every day,"
added the clown.
Phil left the dressing tent to go around to the menagerie tent
for a talk with Mr. Kennedy and Emperor.  Entering the tent the
lad gave his whistle signal, whereat Emperor trumpeted loudly.
The big elephant greeted his young friend with every evidence of
joy and excitement.  Phil, of course, had brought Emperor a bag
of peanuts as well as several lumps of sugar, and it was with
difficulty that the lad got away from him after finishing his
chat with Mr. Kennedy.
Phil was making a round of calls that afternoon, so he decided
that he would next visit Mr. Sparling, having seen him only a
moment, and that while others were around.
"May I come in?" he asked.
"Yes; what do you want?"
"To thank you for your kindness."
"Didn't I tell you never to thank me for anything?" thundered the
"I beg your pardon, sir; I'll take it all back," twinkled Phil.
"Oh, you will, will you, young scapegrace?  What did you come
here for anyway?  Not to palaver about how thankful you are that
you got knocked out, stayed a week in bed and had your salary
paid all the time.  I'll bet you didn't come for that.  Want a
raise of salary already?"
"Hardly.  If you'll give me a chance, I'll tell you, Mr.
"Go on.  Say it quick."
"I have been thinking about the fall I got, since I've been laid
"Nothing else to think about, eh?"
"And the more I think about it, the more it bothers me."
"Does, eh?" grunted Mr. Sparling, busying himself with his
"Yes, sir.  I don't suppose it would be possible for me to get
the broken wire now, would it?  No doubt it was thrown away."
The showman peered up at the boy suspiciously.
"What do you want of it?"
"I thought I should like to examine it."
"To see what had been done to it."
"Oh, you do, eh?"
"What do you think happened to that wire?  It broke, didn't it?"
"Yes, I guess there is no doubt about it but somebody helped to
"Young man, you are too confoundedly smart.  Mark my words,
you'll die young.  Yes; I have the wire.  Here it is.  Look at
it.  You are right; something happened to it, and I've been
tearing myself to pieces, ever since, to find out who it was.
I've got all my amateur sleuths working on the case, this very
minute, to find out who the scoundrel is who cut the wire.  Have
you any idea about it? But there's no use in asking you.  I--"
"I've got this," answered Phil, tossing a small file on the table
in front of Mr. Sparling.
"What, what, what?  A file?"
"Yes, will you see if it fits the notch in the wire there?"
The showman did so, holding file and wire up to the light for a
better examination of them.
"There can be no doubt of it," answered the amazed showman,
fixing wondering eyes on the young man.  "Where did you get it?"
"Picked it up."
"In the dressing tent."
"Pooh!  Then it doesn't mean anything," grunted Mr. Sparling.
"If you knew where I picked it up you might think differently."
"Then where _did_ you get it?"
"Found it in my own trunk."
"In your trunk?"
Phil nodded.
"How did it get there?"
"I had left my trunk open after placing some things in it.  When
I went out to watch Teddy's mule act I was in such a hurry that I
forgot all about the trunk.  When I came back, there it lay, near
"Somebody put it there!" exploded the showman.
"But who?  Find that out for me--let me know who the man is and
you'll hear an explosion in this outfit that will raise the big
top right off the ground."
"Leave it to me, Mr. Sparling, I'll find him."
The owner laughed harshly.
"I think I know who the man is at this very minute," was Phil
Forrest's startling announcement, uttered in a quiet, even tone.
Mr. Sparling leaped from his chair so suddenly that he overturned
the table in front of him, sending his papers flying all over the
AN ELEPHANT IN JAIL
"Who is he?"
"I would not care to answer that question just now, Mr.
Sparling," answered Phil calmly.  "It would not be right--that
is, not until I am sure about it."
"Tell me, or get out."
"Remember, Mr. Sparling, it is a serious accusation you ask me to
make against a man on proof that you would say was not worth
anything. It may take some time, but before I get through I'm
going either to fasten the act on someone--on a particular
one--or else prove that I am wholly mistaken."
The showman stormed, but Phil was obdurate.  He refused to give
the slightest intimation as to whom he suspected.
"Am I to go, Mr. Sparling?" he asked after the interview had come
"No!  I expect you'll own this show yet."
He watched Phil walking away from the tent.  There was a scowl on
the face of James Sparling.
"If I thought that young rascal really thought he knew, I'd take
him across my knee and spank him until he told me.  No; he's more
of a man than any two in the whole outfit.  I'd rather lose a
horse than have anything happen to that lad."
Days followed each other in quick succession.  The show had by
this time swung around into Pennsylvania, and was playing a
circuit of small mining towns with exceptionally good attendance.
The owner of the show was in high good humor over the profits the
show was earning.  The acts of Phil Forrest and Teddy Tucker had
proved to be among the best drawing cards in the circus
performance proper.  So important did the owner consider them
that the names of the two circus boys were now prominently
displayed in the advertisements, as well as on the billboards.
During all this time, Phil and Teddy had worked faithfully on the
rings under the instruction of Mr. Miaco.  On the side they were
taking lessons in tumbling as well.  For this purpose what is
known as a "mechanic" was used to assist them in their schooling.
This consisted of a belt placed about the beginner's waist. >From
it a rope led up over a pulley, the other end of the rope being
securely held by someone.
When all was ready the pupil would take a running start, jump
into the air and try to turn.  At the same time, the man holding
the free end of the rope would give it a hard pull, thus jerking
the boy free of the ground and preventing his falling on his
After a few days of this, both boys had progressed so far that
they were able to work on a mat, made up of several layers of
thick carpet, without the aid of the "mechanic."  Of course their
act lacked finish.  Their movements were more or less clumsy, but
they had mastered the principle of the somersault in remarkably
Mr. Miaco said that in two more weeks they ought to be able to
join the performers in their general tumbling act, which was one
of the features of the show.
There was not an hour of the day that found the two boys idle,
now, and all this activity was viewed by Mr. Sparling with an
approving eye.
But one day there came an interruption that turned the thoughts
of the big show family in another direction.
An accident had happened at the morning parade that promised
trouble for the show.  A countryman, who had heard that the hide
of an elephant could not be punctured, was struck by the happy
thought of finding out for himself the truth or falsity of this
theory.  He had had an argument with some of his friends, he
taking the ground that an elephant's hide was no different from
the hide of any other animal.  And he promised to show them that
All he needed was the opportunity.  With his friends he had
followed along with the parade, keeping abreast of the elephants,
until finally the parade was halted by the crossing gates at a
Now was the man's chance to prove the theory false.  The crowd
closed in on the parade to get a closer view of the people, and
this acted as a cover for the man's experiment.
Taking his penknife out he placed the point of it against the
side of Emperor, as it chanced.
"Now watch me," he said, at the same time giving the knife a
quick shove, intending merely to see if he could prick through
the skin. His experiment succeeded beyond the fellow's fondest
expectations. The point of the knife had gone clear through
Emperor's hide.
Emperor, ordinarily possessed of a keen sense of humor, coupled
with great good nature, in this instance failed to see the humor
of the proceeding.  In fact, he objected promptly and in a most
surprising manner.
Like a flash, his trunk curled back.  It caught the bold
experimenter about the waist, and the next instant the fellow was
dangling in the air over Emperor's head, yelling lustily for
help.  The elephant had been watching the man, apparently
suspecting something, and therefore was ready for him.
"Put him down!" thundered Kennedy.
The elephant obeyed, but in a manner not intended by the trainer
when he gave the command.
With a quick sweep of his trunk, Emperor hurled his tormentor
from him. The man's body did not stop until it struck a large
plate glass window in a store front, disappearing into the store
amid a terrific crashing of glass and breaking of woodwork, the
man having carried most of the window with him in his sudden
entry into the store.
This was a feature of the parade that had not been advertised on
The procession moved on a moment later, with old Emperor swinging
along as meekly as if he had not just stirred up a heap of
trouble for himself and his owner.
The man, it was soon learned, had been badly hurt.
But Mr. Sparling was on the ground almost at once, making an
investigation.  He quickly learned what had caused the trouble.
And then he was mad all through.  He raved up and down the line
threatening to get out a warrant for the arrest of the man who
had stuck a knife into his elephant.
Later in the afternoon matters took a different turn.  A lawyer
called on the showman, demanding the payment of ten thousand
dollars damages for the injuries sustained by his client, and
which, he said, would in all probability make the man a cripple
If the showman had been angry before, he was in a towering rage
"Get off this lot!" he roared.  "If you show your face here again
I'll set the canvasmen on you!  Then you won't be able to leave
without help."
The lawyer stood not upon the order of his going, and they saw no
more of him.  They had about concluded that they had heard the
last of his demands, until just before the evening performance,
when, as the cook tent was being struck, half a dozen deputy
sheriffs suddenly made their appearance.
They held papers permitting them to levy on anything they could
lay their hands upon and hold it until full damages had been
fixed by the courts.
There was no trifling with the law, at least not then, and Mr.
Sparling was shrewd enough to see that.  However, he stormed and
threatened, but all to no purpose.
The intelligent deputies reasoned that Emperor, having been the
cause of all the trouble, would be the proper chattel to levy
upon. So they levied on him.
The next thing was to get Emperor to jail.  He would not budge an
inch when the officers sought to take him.  Then a happy thought
struck them.  They ordered the trainer to lead the elephant and
follow them under pain of instant arrest if he refused.
There was nothing for it but to obey.  Protesting loudly, Kennedy
started for the village with his great, hulking charge.
Phil Forrest was as disconsolate as his employer was enraged. The
boy's act was spoiled, perhaps indefinitely, which might mean the
loss of part of his salary.
"That's country justice," growled the owner.  "But I'll telegraph
my lawyer in the city and have him here by morning.  Maybe it
won't be such a bad speculation tomorrow, for I'll make this town
go broke before it has fully settled the damages I'll get out of
it.  Don't be down in the mouth, Forrest.  You'll have your
elephant back, and before many days at that.  Go watch the show
and forget your troubles."
It will be observed that, under his apparently excitable
exterior, Mr. James Sparling was a philosopher.
"Emperor's in jail," mourned Phil.
The moment Mr. Kennedy returned, sullen and uncommunicative, Phil
sought him out.  He found the trainer in Mr. Sparling's tent.
"Where did they take him?" demanded Phil, breaking in on their
conversation.
"To jail," answered Kennedy grimly.  "First time I ever heard of
such a thing as an elephant's going to jail."
"That's the idea.  We'll use that for an advertisement," cried
the ever alert showman, slapping his thighs.  "Emperor, the
performing elephant of the Great Sparling Combined Shows, jailed
for assault. Fine, fine!  How'll that look in the newspapers?
Why, men, it will fill the tent when we get to the next stand,
whether we have the elephant or not."
"No; you've got to have the elephant," contended Kennedy.
"Well, perhaps that's so.  But I'll wire our man ahead, just the
same, and let him use the fact in his press notices."
"But how could they get him in the jail?" questioned Phil.
"Jail?  You see, they couldn't.  They wanted to, but the jail
wouldn't fit, or the elephant wouldn't fit the jail, either way
you please.  When they discovered that they didn't know what to
do with him.  Somebody suggested that they might lock him up in
the blacksmith shop."
"The blacksmith shop?" exploded the owner.
"I hope they don't try to fit him with shoes," he added, with a
"Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they did.  We'd have our
elephant right quick.  Yes, they tried the blacksmith shop on,
and it worked, but it was a close fit.  If Emperor had had a bump
on his back as big as an egg he wouldn't have gone in."
"And he's there now?"
"Yes.  I reckon I'd better stay here and camp at the hotel,
hadn't I, so's to be handy when your lawyer comes on?  Emperor
might tear up the town if he got loose."
Mr. Sparling reflected for a moment.
"Kennedy, you'll go with the show tonight.  I don't care if
Emperor tears this town up by the roots.  If none of us is here,
then we shall not be to blame for what happens.  We didn't tell
them to lock him up in the blacksmith shop.  You can get back
after the lawyer has gotten him out.  That will be time enough."
"Where is the blacksmith shop?" questioned Phil.
"Know where the graveyard is?"
"It's just the other side of that," said Kennedy.  "Church on
this side, blacksmith shop on the other.  Why?"
"Oh, nothing.  I was just wondering," answered Phil, glancing up
and finding the eyes of Mr. Sparling bent keenly upon him.
The lad rose hastily, went out, and climbing up to the seat of a
long pole wagon, sat down to ponder over the situation. He
remained there until a teamster came to hook to the wagon and
drive it over to be loaded.  Then Phil got down, standing about
with hands in his pockets.
He was trying to make up his mind about something.
"Where do we show tomorrow?" he asked of an employee.
"Dobbsville, Ohio.  We'll be over the line before daybreak."
The circus tent was rapidly disappearing now.  "In another state
in the morning," mused Phil.
One by one the wagons began moving from the circus lot.
"Get aboard the sleeping car," called the driver of the wagon
that Phil and Teddy usually slept in, as he drove past.
"Hey, Phil!" called Teddy, suddenly appearing above the top of
"Hello, Teddy!"
"What are you standing there for?"
"Perhaps I'm getting the night air," laughed Phil.  "Fine, isn't
"It might be better.  But get in; get in.  You'll be left."
"Never mind me.  I am not going on your wagon tonight.  You may
have the bed all to yourself.  Don't forget to leave your window
open," he jeered.
"I have it open already.  I'm going to put the screen in now to
keep the mosquitoes out," retorted Teddy, not to be outdone.
"Has Mr. Sparling gone yet do you know?"
"No; he and Kennedy are over yonder where the front door was,
"All right."
Teddy's head disappeared.  No sooner had it done so than Phil
Forrest turned and ran swiftly toward the opposite side of the
lot. He ran in a crouching position, as if to avoid being seen.
Reaching a fence which separated the road from the field, he
threw himself down in the tall grass there and hid.
"In Ohio tomorrow.  I'm going to try it," he muttered.  "It can't
be wrong.  They had no business, no right to do it," he decided,
his voice full of indignation.
He heard the wagons rumbling by him on the hard road, the rattle
of wheels accompanied by the shouts of the drivers as they urged
their horses on.
And there Phil lay hidden until every wagon had departed, headed
for the border, and the circus lot became a barren, deserted and
silent field.
CHAPTER XXII
EMPEROR ANSWERS THE SIGNAL
Making sure that everybody had left, Phil Forrest ran swiftly
toward the village.  He knew the way, having been downtown during
A light twinkled here and there in a house, where the people, no
doubt, were discussing the exciting events of the day.  As Phil
drew near the cemetery he heard voices.
It would not do to be discovered, so the lad climbed the fence
and crept along the edge of the open plot.  He was nearing the
blacksmith shop and it was soon apparent to him that quite a
number of men had gathered in front of the shop itself.
Skulking up to the corner, the last rod being traversed on all
fours, the circus boy flattened himself on the ground to listen,
in an effort to learn if possible what were the plans of the
villagers.  If they had any he did not learn them, for their
conversation was devoted principally to discussing what they had
done to the Sparling show and what they would do further before
they had finished with this business.
Phil did learn, however, that the man who had been hurled through
the store window was not fatally injured, as had been thought at
first.  Someone announced that the doctor had said the man would
be about again in a couple of weeks.
"I'm glad of that," muttered Phil.  "I shouldn't like to think
that Emperor had killed anyone.  I wonder how he likes it in
Evidently the elephant was not well pleased, for the lad could
hear him stirring restlessly and tugging at his chains.
"Won't he be surprised, though?" chuckled Phil.  "I shouldn't be
surprised if he made a lot of noise.  I hope he doesn't, for I
don't want to stir the town up.  I wonder if those fellows are
going to stay there all night?"
The loungers showed no inclination to move, so there was nothing
for the boy to do but to lie still and wait.
After a little he began to feel chilled, and began hopping around
on hands and feet to start his blood moving.  A little of this
warmed him up considerably.  This time he sat down in the fence
corner.  The night was moonless, but the stars were quite bright,
enabling Phil to make out objects some distance away. He could
see quite plainly the men gathered in front of the blacksmith
After a wait of what seemed hours to Phil, one of the watchers
stirred himself.
"Well, fellows, we might as well go home.  The brute's settled
down for the night, I reckon."
"What time is it?"
"Half past two," announced the first speaker.
"Well, well, I should say it was time to go.  Not going to stay
with him, are you, sheriff?"
"Not necessary.  He can't get out."
After listening at the closed door, the one whom Phil judged to
be an officer joined his companions and all walked leisurely down
The lad remained in the fence corner for sometime, but he stood
up after they had gone.  He did not dare move about much, fearing
that Emperor might hear and know him and raise a great tumult.
Phil waited all of half an hour; then he climbed the fence and
slipped cautiously to the door of the shop.
It was securely locked.
"Oh, pshaw!  That's too bad," grumbled the lad.  "How am I going
Phil ran his fingers lightly over the fastening, which consisted
of a strong hasp and a padlock.
"What shall I do?  I dare not try to break the lock.  I should be
committing a crime if I did.  Perhaps I am already.  No; I'm not,
and I shall not.  I'll just speak to Emperor, then start off on
foot after the show.  It was foolish of me to think I could do
anything to help Mr. Sparling and the elephant out of his
trouble. I ought to be able to walk to the next stand and get
there in time for the last breakfast call, providing I can find
Perhaps Phil's conscience troubled him a little, though he had
done nothing worse than to follow the dictates of his kind heart
in his desire to be of assistance to his employer and to befriend
old Emperor.
Placing his lips close to the door, Phil called softly.
"Emperor!" he said.
The restless swaying and heavy breathing within ceased suddenly.
"Emperor!" repeated the lad, at the same time uttering the low
whistle that the big elephant had come to know so well.
A mighty cough from the interior of the blacksmith shop answered
Phil Forrest's signal.
"Be quiet, Emperor.  Be quiet!  We are going to get you out as
soon as we can, old fellow!  You just behave yourself now.  Do
Emperor emitted another loud cough.
"Good old Emperor.  I've got some peanuts for you, but I don't
know how I am going to give them to you.  Wait a minute.  Perhaps
there is a window somewhere that I can toss them through."
Phil, after looking around, found a window with the small panes
of glass missing.  The window was so high that he could not reach
it, so he stood on the ground and tossed the peanuts in, while
the big elephant demonstrated the satisfaction he felt, in a
series of sharp intakes of breath.
"Now I'm going," announced Phil.  "Goodbye, Emperor.  Here's a
lump of sugar.  That's all I have for you."
Phil turned away sorrowfully.  His purpose had failed. Not
because he doubted his ability to carry it out, but he was not
sure that he would be right in doing so.
A few rods down the road he paused, turned and uttered his shrill
signal whistle, with no other idea in mind than to bring some
comfort to the imprisoned beast.
Emperor interpreted the signal otherwise, however.  He uttered a
loud, shrill trumpet; then things began to happen with a rapidity
that fairly made the circus boy's head whirl.
A sudden jingle of metal, a crashing and rending from within the
shop, caused Phil to halt sharply after he had once more started
Crash!  Bang!
Emperor had brought his wonderful strength to bear on his
flimsily constructed prison with disastrous results to the
latter. First he had torn the blacksmith's bellows out by the
roots and hurled it from him.  Next he set to work to smash
everything within reach.  A moment of this and the elephant had
freed himself from the light chains with which the keeper had
secured him.
"Wha--oh, what is he doing?" gasped Phil Forrest.
The boards on one side of the shop burst out as from a sudden
explosion.  Down came half a dozen of the light studdings that
supported the roof on that side.
By this time Emperor had worked himself into a fine temper. He
turned his attention to the other side of the shop with similar
disastrous results.  The interior of the blacksmith shop was a
wreck.  It could not have been in much worse condition had it
been struck by a cyclone.
All of a sudden the elephant threw his whole weight against the
big sliding door.  It burst out with a report like that of a
Emperor came staggering out into the open.  There he paused, with
twitching ears and curling trunk, peering into the darkness in
search of Phil Forrest.
Phil recovered from his surprise sufficiently to realize what had
happened and that old Emperor was free once more.
The lad uttered a shrill whistle.  Emperor responded by a
piercing scream.  He then whirled, facing up the road in Phil's
direction, though unable to see the lad.
Once more the boy whistled.  Emperor was off in a twinkling.
"Steady, steady, Emperor!" cautioned the lad, as he saw the huge
hulk bearing swiftly down on him.  "Easy, old boy!"
But the elephant did not lessen his speed one particle.  Phil
felt sure, however, that he himself would not be harmed.  He knew
Emperor too well.  With perfect confidence in the great animal,
the lad threw both hands above his head, standing motionless in
the center of the street right in the path of the oncoming beast.
"Steady, steady, steady!" cautioned Phil.  "Now up, Emperor!"
The elephant's long, sinuous trunk uncurled, coiled about the
lad's waist and the next instant Phil felt himself being lifted
to the big beast's head.
"I've got him!" shouted Phil, carried away by the excitement of
the moment.  "Now, go it!  Emperor!  Go faster than you ever have
since you chased lions in the jungle."
And Emperor did go it!  As he tore down the village street he
woke the echoes with his shrill trumpetings, bringing every man
and woman in the little village tumbling from their beds.
"The elephant is escaping!" cried the people, as they threw up
their windows and gazed out.  As they looked they saw a huge,
shadowy shape hurling itself down the street, whereat they
hastily withdrew their heads.  In a few moments the men of the
village came rushing out, all running toward the blacksmith shop
to learn what had happened there.  There followed a perfect
pandemonium of yells when they discovered the wrecked condition
of the place.
In the meantime Phil had guided Emperor into the road that led to
the show grounds of the previous day.  The elephant was about to
turn into the lot, when a sharp slap from his rider caused him to
swing back into the highway on the trail of the wagons that had
passed on some hours before.
Once he had fairly started Emperor followed the trail, making the
turns and following the twists of the road as unerringly as an
Indian follows the trail of his enemy.
"Hurrah!" shouted Phil, after they had got clear of the village.
"I've won, I've won!  But, oh, won't there be a row back there
when they find out what has happened, I wonder if they will
The thought startled him.
"If they do they are liable to arrest me, believing that I let
him out.  _Go it,_ Emperor!  Go faster!"
Emperor flapped his ears in reply and swung off at an increased
gait. The darkness of early morn was soon succeeded by the
graying dawn, and Phil felt a certain sense of relief as he
realized that day was breaking.  On they swept, past hamlets, by
farm houses, where here and there men with milkpails in hand
paused, startled, to rub their eyes and gaze upon the strange
outfit that was rushing past them at such a pace.
Phil could not repress a chuckle at such times, at thought of the
sensation he was creating.
The hours drew on until seven o'clock had arrived, and the sun
was high in the heavens.
"I must be getting near the place," decided Phil.  He knew he was
on the right road, for he could plainly see the trail of the
wagons and of the stock in the dust of the road before him.
"Yes; there is some sort of a village way off yonder.  I wonder
if that is it?"
A fluttering flag from the top of a far away center-pole, which
he caught sight of a few minutes later, told the boy that it was.
"Hurrah!" shouted Phil, waving his hat on high.
At that moment a distant chorus of yells smote his ears.  The lad
listened intently.  The shout was repeated.  Holding fast to the
headstall, he glanced back over the road.  There, far to his
rear, he discovered a cloud of dust, which a few minutes later
resolved itself into a party of horsemen, riding at top speed.
"They're after me!  Go faster!  Go faster!" shouted the lad. As
he spoke a rifle cracked somewhere behind him, but as Phil heard
no bullet the leaden missile must have fallen far short of the
CHAPTER XXIII
THE MYSTERY SOLVED
As he neared the village Phil began to shout and wave his hat.
After a time his shouts attracted the attention of some of the
people on the circus lot, which was on his side of the village.
"It's Emperor coming back!" cried someone.  "There's somebody on
him," added another.
"I'll bet the day's receipts that it's that rascally Phil
Forrest," exclaimed Mr. Sparling, examining the cloud of dust
with shaded eyes. "How in the world did it ever happen?  I've
been hunting all over the outfit for that boy this morning.
Young Tucker said he thought Phil had remained behind, and I was
afraid something had happened to the boy or that he had skipped
the show.  I might have known better. What's that back of him?"
"Somebody chasing them, boss," a tentman informed him.
"And they're going to catch old Emperor sure."
"Not if I know it," snapped Mr. Sparling.  _"Hey, Rube!"_ he
Canvasmen, roustabouts, performers and everybody within reach of
his voice swarmed out into the open, armed with clubs, stones and
anything they could lay their hands upon.
"There's a posse trying to catch Phil Forrest and old Emperor.
Get a going!  Head them off and drive them back!"
Every man started on a run, some leaping on horses, clearing the
circus lot, riding like so many cowboys.  As they approached the
lad perched on the bobbing head of the elephant the showmen set
up a chorus of wild yells, to which Phil responded by waving his
hat. He tried to stand up on Emperor's head, narrowly missing a
tumble, which he surely would have taken had not the elephant
given him quick support with the ever-handy trunk.
"They're shooting at me," cried Phil, as he swept by the showmen.
"Line up!" commanded Mr. Sparling.
His men stretched across the highway, with the mounted ones in
front, his infantry behind.  Soon the horsemen of the pursuing
party came dashing up and brought their horses to a sudden stop.
"What do you want?"
"We demand the turning over of the elephant which one of your men
stole from us.  They've wrecked the blacksmith shop and there'll
be a pretty bill of damages to pay!  Come now, before we take you
back with us."
Mr. Sparling grinned.
"Perhaps you don't know that you are in the State of Ohio at the
present moment, eh?  If you'll take my advice you'll turn about
and get home as fast as horseflesh will carry you.  My lawyer
will be in your town today, and he will arrange for the payment
of all just damages.  We decline to be robbed, however.  We've
got the elephant and we're going to keep him."
"And we're going to have the boy that broke in and released him."
"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed Mr. Sparling jovially.  "I guess you'll
have the liveliest scrimmage you ever had in all your lives if
you attempt to lay hands on that boy.  Come, now, get out of
here! If you attempt to raise the slightest disturbance I'll have
the bunch of you in the cooler, and we'll be the boys to put you
there if the town officials don't act quickly enough."
"Boys, I guess it's up to us," decided the leader of the party.
"Looks that way."
"Then what do you say if we stop and see the show?"
"Good idea!"
"I don't care how many of you go to the show; but, mark me, it
will cost you fifty cents a head, and at the first sign of
disturbance you'll see the biggest bunch of trouble headed your
"It's all right, Mr. Sparling.  We admit we've been done."
And that was the end of it.  Mr. Sparling's lawyer visited the
town where the disturbance had occurred on the previous day, and
at his client's direction made a settlement that should have been
wholly satisfactory to the injured parties.  Ordinarily the
showman would not have settled the case, in view of the fact that
neither he nor any of his employees was directly responsible for
the series of disasters.  He did it almost wholly on account of
Phil Forrest, who had asked him to.
"Well, young man, I've paid the bills," announced Mr. Sparling
that afternoon before the evening performance.
"Thank you," glowed Phil.
"Stop that!  If there's any thanks in it, they're coming to you.
Between you and the elephant we'll have another turn-away today.
You have already put a good bit of money in my pocket, and I'm
not forgetting it.  I have made definite arrangements for you and
your chum to have a berth in a closed wagon after this.  You will
be good enough to offer no objections this time.  What I say
"I hope I did not do anything wrong in taking Emperor away. I'm
afraid my conscience has troubled me ever since.  But I didn't
intend to do anything wrong or to cause any further damage than
already had been done."
"You did perfectly right, Forrest.  That was a stroke of genius.
As for damage, I tell you I have settled all of that.  One of
these days you come in when I'm not busy and we'll talk about
next season.  I want you to stay with me."
Phil left his employer, the lad's face flushed and his eyes
sparkling. Altogether, he was a very happy boy.  The only real
cloud that had darkened his horizon was that anyone should feel
such an enmity toward him as to desire to take his life; or, at
least, to cause him so serious an injury as to put an end to the
career that now seemed so promising.
"I know why, of course," mused the lad.  "It was jealousy.  I am
more sure than ever as to the identity of the man who did it.
When I get a good opportunity I am going to face him with it. I'm
not afraid of the man.  As it is, he might try it again; but if
he understands that I know he will not dare try it, fearing I may
have told someone else."
Having come to this wise conclusion, Phil proceeded to the big
top, where he and Teddy Tucker were to take their afternoon
practice on the flying rings, pausing on the way to pass a
handful of peanuts to Emperor, who was again in his place, and
give the elephant's trainer a happy nod.
"I've noticed of late that Signor Navaro acts rather grouchy over
you boys working on his apparatus.  You want to look out for
these foreigners.  Some of them are revengeful," cautioned Mr.
Signor Navaro was the leading performer in the flying-rings act.
With him was his young son, Rodney Palmer and a young girl
performer, whose father was a clown in the show.
Phil shot a sharp glance at Mr. Miaco, then dropped his eyes.
"I guess nobody would be jealous of me," laughed the lad. "I'm
only a beginner, and a clumsy one at that.  All I can do is to
ride an elephant and fall off, nearly killing myself."
"Nevertheless, you take my advice."
"I will, thank you."
The boys began their work after putting on their working clothes,
consisting of old silk undershirts and linen trunks.  This left
them free for the full play of their muscles, which, by this
time, were of exceptionally fine quality.  Not big and bunchy,
but like thin bands of pliable steel.  Both Phil and Teddy
appeared to have grown half a head taller since they joined out
with the circus.
"Put a little more finish in that cutoff movement," directed
their instructor.  "The way you do it, Teddy, you remind me of a
man trying to kick out a window.  There, that's better."
And so it went on.  Days came and went and the steady practice of
the two circus boys continued, but if Mr. Sparling knew what they
were doing he made no reference to it.  He probably did know, for
little went on in the Sparling Combined Shows that he was not
Nothing out of the routine occurred, until, late in the season,
they pitched their tents in Canton, Ohio, when something happened
that brought to a climax the certainty of the careers of the
circus boys.
All day long the clouds had been threatening.  But, though keen
eyes were watching the scudding clouds, no apprehension was felt,
as it was believed to be but a passing thunderstorm that was
The storm did not break until late in the afternoon when the show
was more than half over.  Phil had made his grand entry on
Emperor, and Teddy had nearly sent the spectators into hysterics
by his funny antics on the back of Jumbo, the educated mule.
All at once the circus men glanced aloft as the shrill whistle of
the boss canvasman trilled somewhere outside the big top. The
audience, if they heard, gave no heed.  They were too much
interested in the show.
To the showmen the whistle meant that the emergency gang was
being summoned in haste to stake down emergency ropes to protect
the tent from a windstorm that was coming up.
Phil took a quick survey of the upper part of the tent.  Two acts
were just beginning up there.  A trapeze act was on, and the four
performers were swinging out on the flying rings.
Both sets of performers were in rather perilous positions were
the wind to blow very hard, as Phil well understood.  He stepped
off until he found a quarter pole at his back against which he
leaned that he might watch the better the lofty performers.
All at once there was a blast against the big top that sounded as
if a great blow had been delivered.  The audience half rose. The
tent shook from end to end.
"Sit down!" bellowed the ringmaster.  "It's only a puff of wind."
Before the words were out of his mouth a piercing scream roused
the audience almost to the verge of panic.
Phil, whose attention had been drawn to the people for the
moment, shot a swift glance up into the somber haze of the peak
of the big top.
Something had happened.  But what?
"They're falling!" he gasped.
The blow had loosened nearly every bit of the aerial apparatus
under the circus tent.
"There go the trapeze performers!"
Down they came, landing with a whack in the net with their
apparatus tumbling after them.  But they were out of the net in a
twinkling, none the worse for their accident.  Almost at the same
moment there were other screams.
"There go the rings!"
There was no net under the flying ring performers.  Two of them
shot toward the ground.  When they struck, one was on top of the
other.  The man at the bottom was Signor Navaro, his son having
fallen prone across him.  The two other performers in the act had
grabbed a rope and saved themselves.
Men picked the two fallen performers up hastily and bore them to
the dressing tent, where Phil hastened the moment he was sure
that all danger of a panic had passed.  The gust of wind had
driven the clouds away and the sun flashed out brilliantly.
A moment later the performance was going on with a rush, the band
playing a lively tune.
Phil, when he reached the dressing tent, learned that Signor
Navaro was seriously hurt, though his son was suffering merely
from shock.  The father had sustained several broken bones.
Phil approached the injured performer and leaned over him. The
man was conscious.
"I'm sorry, very sorry, sir," breathed the boy sympathetically.
"You needn't be.  You'll get what you want," murmured the circus
"I don't understand," wondered Phil.
"You'll get my act."
"Is that what you think I have been working for?"
Signor Navaro nodded.
"You are mistaken.  Of course, if you are not able to perform any
more this season I shall try to get it, but when you are able to
go to work I shall give it up willingly, even if I succeed in
getting it during that time.  Is that why you played that trick
on me?" demanded the lad.
"You know?" questioned Signor Navaro, with a start.
Phil gave a slight nod.
"Why did you put the file in my trunk--the file you cut the wire
"I thought I dropped it in my own trunk.  Somebody surprised me
and I was afraid they would catch me with it in my hand and
"That's what I thought."
"You are sharp.  And you told no one?"
"No.  But I had made up my mind to tell you.  I didn't think it
would have to be this way, though.  I'm sorry it is."
"Well, I have my punishment.  It served me right.  I was crazed
with jealousy.  I--how is the boy?"
"Not badly hurt, I believe.  He will be all right in a few days,
and I hope you will be able to join out in a short time."
Signor Navaro extended a feeble hand, which Phil pressed softly.
"Forgive me, boy.  Will you?"
"Yes," whispered Phil.
"And you will tell no--"
"There is nothing to tell, Signor Navaro.  If there is anything I
can do for you, tell me, and I shall have great happiness in
doing it," breathed the lad.
A final grip of the hands of the boy and the injured performer
followed, after which Phil Forrest stepped back to make way for
the surgeon, who had hurried to a wagon to fetch his case.
CHAPTER XXIV
"You see, an accident always casts a cloud over a show and makes
the performers uncertain," said Mr. Miaco that night as he and
Phil were watching the performance from the end of the band
"I should think it would," mused the boy.
Soon after that Phil went to his wagon and turned in, his mind
still on Signor Navaro, who had been taken to a hospital, where
he was destined to remain for many weeks.
"I guess it doesn't pay, in the long run, to be dishonorable,"
mused the lad as he was dropping off to sleep.
The next morning Phil was up bright and early, very much
refreshed after a good night's rest between his blankets in the
comfortable sleeping wagon.  Teddy, however, declared that he
didn't like it. He said he preferred to sleep on a pile of canvas
in the open air, even if he did get wet once in a while.
Later in the morning, after Mr. Sparling had had time to dispose
of his usual rush of morning business, which consisted of hearing
reports from his heads of departments, and giving his orders for
the day, Phil sought out his employer in the little dog tent.
"I'm very sorry about the accident, Mr. Sparling," greeted Phil.
"Yes; it ties up one act.  It will be some days before I can get
another team in to take it up, and here we are just beginning to
play the big towns.  I have been trying to figure out if there
was not someone in the show who could double in that act and get
away with it," mused the showman.  "How'd you sleep?"
"Fine.  Is there no one you can think of who could fill the bill,
Mr. Sparling?"
"No; that's the rub.  You know of anyone?"
"How about myself."
Mr. Sparling surveyed the lad in surprised inquiry.
"I think I can make a pretty fair showing on the rings.  Of
course, if Signor Navaro gets well and comes back, I shall be
glad to give the act back to him.  I know something about the
flying rings."
"Young man, is there anything in this show that you can't do?"
demanded Mr. Sparling, with an attempt at sternness.
"A great many things, sir.  Then, again, there are some others
that I have confidence enough in myself to believe I can do.  You
see, I have been practicing on the rings ever since I joined
"But you are only one.  We shall need two performers," objected
"Teddy Tucker has been working with me.  He is fully as good on
the flying rings as I am, if not better."
"H-m-m-m!" mused the showman.  "Come over to the big top and
let's see what you really can do," he said, starting up.
Phil ran in search of Teddy and in a few minutes the two boys
appeared in the arena, ready for the rehearsal.
Mr. Miaco, who had been called on and informed of the news,
accompanied them.  It was he who hauled the boys up to the rings
far up toward the top of the tent.
"Get a net under there!  We don't want to lose any more
performers this season," the clown commanded.
After some little delay the net was spread and the showman
motioned for the performance to proceed, walking over and taking
his seat on the boards so that he might watch the performance
from the viewpoint of the audience.
With the utmost confidence the boys went through the act without
a slip.  They did everything that Signor Navaro had done in his
performance, adding some clever feats of their own that had been
devised with the help of Mr. Miaco.  Mr. Sparling looked on with
twinkling eyes and frequent nods of approval.
"Fine!  Fine!  One of the best flying-ring acts I ever saw," he
shouted, when finally the lads rounded out their act by a series
of rapid evolutions commonly known as "skinning the cat."  Even
in this their act was attended with variations.
The boys concluded by a graceful drop into the net, from which
they bounded into the air, swung themselves to the ground, each
throwing a kiss to the grinning manager.
A number of performers who had been a witness to the performance
clapped their hands and shouted "bravo!"
Mr. Sparling called the lads to him.
"The act is yours," he said.  "It is better than Navaro's.  Each
of you will draw twenty five dollars a week for the rest of the
season," he announced to the proud circus boys, who thereupon ran
to the dressing tent to take a quick bath and get into their
costumes ready for the parade.
"See to it that they have the net spread, Mr. Ducro," he
directed. "Never permit them to perform without it."
That afternoon the boys made their first appearance in the
flying-ring exhibition, and their act really proved a sensation.
Mr. Sparling, who was observing it from the side, kept his head
bobbing with nods of approval and muttered comments.
After the show Phil suggested that thereafter Teddy be allowed to
use a clown makeup, because his funny antics in the air were more
fitted to the character of a clown than to that of a finished
To this the owner readily agreed, and that night they tried it
with tremendous success.
The days that followed were bright ones for the circus boys. Each
day seemed an improvement over the previous one.  The season drew
rapidly to a close and they looked forward to the day with keen
One day Mr. Sparling summoned them to his tent.
"Are you boys ready to sign up for next season?" he asked.
"I should like to," answered Phil.
"This will be a railroad show next season, the third largest show
on the road, and I want you both."
"Thank you; I shall join gladly."
"So will I," chorused Teddy.
"Your salaries will be fifty dollars a week next season.  And if
you wish a vaudeville engagement for the winter I think I shall
be able to get one for you."
"We are going to school, Mr. Sparling.  Teddy and I will be hard
at work over our books next week.  But we are going to keep up
our practice all winter and perhaps we may have some new acts to
surprise you with in the spring," laughed Phil, his face aglow
with happiness.
A week later found the lads back in Edmeston, bronzed, healthy,
manly and admired by all who saw them.  Phil had nearly four
hundred dollars in the bank, while Teddy had about one hundred
Phil's first duty after greeting Mrs. Cahill was to call on his
uncle, who begrudgingly allowed his nephew to shake hands with
him. Next day the circus boys dropped into their old routine life
and applied themselves to their studies, at the same time looking
forward to the day when the grass should grow green again and the
little red wagons roll out for their summer journeyings.
Here we will leave them.  But Phil and his companion will be
heard from again in a following volume, to be published
immediately, entitled, "THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT; Or,
Winning New Laurels on the Tanbark."  In this volume their
thrilling adventures under the billowing canvas are to be
continued, leading them on to greater triumphs and successes.
This Etext was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Greg Berckes
The Circus Boys Across The Continent
Winning New Laurels on the Tanbark
by Edgar B. P. Darlington
I     The Boys Hear Good News
II    On The Road Once More
III   Phil to Rescue
IV    Renewing Old Acquaintances
V     Doing a Man's Work
VI    The Showman's Reward
VII   Trying The Culprit
VIII  Phil Makes a New Friend
IX    The Mule Distinguishes Himself
X     His First Bareback Lesson
XI    Summoned Before The Manager
XII   The Human Football
XIII  Ducked by an Elephant
XIV   In Dire Peril
XV    Emperor to The Rescue
XVI   An Unexpected Promotion
XVII  The Circus Boys Win New Laurels
XVIII Doing a Double Somersault
XIX   Marooned in a Freight Car
XX    The Barnyard Circus
XXI   When The Crash Came
XXII  What Happened to a Pacemaker
XXIII Searching The Train
XXIV  Conclusion
The Circus Boys Across the Continent
THE BOYS HEAR GOOD NEWS
"You never can guess it--you never can guess the news, Teddy,"
cried Phil Forrest, rushing into the gymnasium, his face flushed
with excitement.
Teddy Tucker, clad in a pair of linen working trunks and a
ragged, sleeveless shirt, both garments much the worse for their
winter's wear, was lazily swinging a pair of Indian clubs.
"What is it, some kind of riddle, Phil?" he questioned, bringing
the clubs down to his sides.
"Do be serious for a minute, won't you?"
"Me, serious?  Why, I never cracked a smile.  Isn't anything to
smile at.  Besides, do you know, since I've been in the circus
business, every time I want to laugh I check myself so suddenly
that it hurts?"
"How's that?"
"Because I think I've still got my makeup on and that I'll crack
it if I laugh."
"What, your face?"
"My face?  No!  My makeup.  By the time I remember that I haven't
any makeup on I've usually forgotten what it was I wanted to
laugh about.  Then I don't laugh."
Teddy shied an Indian club at a rat that was scurrying across the
far end of their gymnasium, missing him by half the width of
the building.
"If you don't care, of course I shan't tell you.  But it's good
news, Teddy.  You would say so if you knew it."
"What news?  Haven't heard anything that sounds like news,"
his eyes fixed on the hole into which the rat had disappeared.
"You can't guess where we are going this summer?"
"Going?  Don't have to guess.  I know," answered the lad with an
emphasizing nod.
"Where do you think?"
"We're going out with the Great Sparling Combined Shows,
of course.  Didn't we sign out for the season before we closed
with the show last fall?"
"Yes, yes; but where?" urged Phil, showing him the letter he
had just brought from the post office.  "You couldn't guess if
"No.  Never was a good guesser.  That letter from Mr. Sparling?"
he questioned, as his eyes caught the familiar red and gold
heading used by the owner of the show.
"What's he want?"
"You know I wrote to him asking that we be allowed to skip the
rehearsals before the show starts out, so that we could stay here
and take our school examinations?"
Teddy nodded.
"I'd rather join the show," he grumbled.
"Never did see anything about school to go crazy over."
"You'll thank me someday for keeping you at it," said Phil.
"See how well you have done this winter with your school work.
I'm proud of you.  Why, Teddy, there are lots of the boys a long
way behind you.  They can't say circus boys don't know anything
just because they perform in a circus ring."
"H-m-m-m!" mused Teddy.  "You haven't told me yet where we are
going this summer.  What's the route?"
"Mr. Sparling says that, as we are going to continue our
last year's acts this season, there will be no necessity
for rehearsals."
The announcement did not appear to have filled Teddy Tucker
"We do the flying rings again, then?"
"Yes.  And we shall be able to give a performance that will
surprise Mr. Sparling.  Our winter's practicing has done a lot
for us, as has our winter at school."
"Oh, I don't know."
"You probably will ride the educated mule again, while I expect
to ride the elephant Emperor in the grand entry, as I did before.
I'll be glad to get under the big top again, with the noise and
the people, the music of the band and all that.  Won't you,
questioned Phil, his eyes glowing at the picture he had drawn.
Teddy heaved a deep sigh.
" 'Cause you make me think I'm there now."
Phil laughed softly.
"I can see myself riding the educated mule this very minute,
kicking up the dust of the ring, making everybody get out of the
"And falling off," laughed Phil.  "You certainly are the
most finished artist in the show when it comes to getting
into trouble."
"Yes; I seem to keep things going," grinned the lad.
"But I haven't told you all that Mr. Sparling says in
the letter."
"What else does he say?"
"That the show is to start from its winter quarters, just outside
of Germantown, Pennsylvania, on April twenty-second--"
"Let's see; just two weeks from today," nodded Teddy.
"I wish it was today."
"He says we are to report on the twenty-first, as the show leaves
early in the evening."
"Where do we show first?"
"Atlantic City.  Then we take in the Jersey Coast towns--"
"Do we go to New York?"
"New York?  Oh, no!  The show isn't big enough for New York quite
yet, even if it is a railroad show now.  We've got to grow some
before that.  Mighty few shows are large enough to warrant taking
them into the big city."
"How do you know?"
"All the show people say that."
"Pshaw!  I'd sure make a hit in New York with the mule."
"Time enough for that later.  You and I will yet perform in
Madison Square Garden.  Just put that down on your route card,
Teddy Tucker."
"Humph!  If we don't break our necks before that!  Where did you
say we were--"
"After leaving New Jersey, we are to play through New York State,
taking in the big as well as the small towns, and from Buffalo
heading straight west.  Mr. Sparling writes that we are going
across the continent."
"Says he's going to make the Sparling Shows known from the
Atlantic to the Pacific--"
"Across the continent!" exclaimed Teddy unbelievingly.
"No; you're fooling."
"Yes; clear to the Pacific Coast.  We're going to
San Francisco, too.  What do you think of that, Teddy?"
"Great!  Wow!  Whoop!" howled the boy, hurling his remaining
Indian Club far up among the rafters of the gymnasium, whence it
came clattering down, both lads laughing gleefully.
"We're going to see the country this time, and we shan't have to
sleep out in an open canvas wagon, either."
"Where shall we sleep?"
"Probably in a car."
"It won't be half so much fun," objected Teddy.
"I imagine the life will be different.  Perhaps we shall not have
so much fun, but we'll have the satisfaction of knowing that we
are part of a real show.  It will mean a lot to us to be with an
organization like that.  It will give us a better standing in the
profession, and possibly by another season we may be able to get
with one of the really big ones.  Next spring, if we have good
luck, we shall have finished with our school here.  If they'll
have us, we'll try to join out with one of them.  In the meantime
we must work hard, Teddy, so we shall be in fine shape when we
join out two weeks from today.  Come on; I'll wrestle you a
"Done," exclaimed Teddy.
Phil promptly threw off his coat and vest.  A few minutes later
the lads were struggling on the wrestling mat, their faces
dripping with perspiration, their supple young figures twisting
and turning as each struggled for the mastery of the other.
The readers of the preceding volume in this series, entitled,
THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS, will recognize Phil and
at once as the lads who had so unexpectedly joined the Sparling
Combined Shows the previous summer.  It was Phil who, by his
ready resourcefulness, saved the life of the wife of the owner of
the show as well as that of an animal trainer later on.  Then,
it will be remembered how the lad became the fast friend of the
great elephant Emperor, which he rescued from "jail," and with
which he performed in the ring to the delight of thousands.
Ere the close of the season both boys had won their way to the
flying rings, thus becoming full-fledged circus performers.
Before leaving the show they had signed out for another season
at a liberal salary.
With their savings, which amounted to a few hundred dollars, the
boys had returned to their home at Edmeston, there to put in the
winter at school.
That they might lose nothing of their fine physical condition,
the Circus Boys had rented an old carpenter shop, which they
rigged up as a gymnasium, fitting it with flying rings, trapeze
bars and such other equipment as would serve to keep them in trim
for the coming season's work.
Here Phil and Teddy had worked long hours after school.
During the winter they had gained marked improvement in
their work, besides developing some entirely new acts on
the flying rings.  During this time they had been living with
Mrs. Cahill, who, it will be remembered, had proved herself a
real friend to the motherless boys.
Now, the long-looked-for day was almost at hand when they should
once more join the canvas city for a life in the open.
The next two weeks were busy ones for the lads, with their
practice and the hard study incident to approaching examinations.
Both boys passed with high standing.  Books were put away,
gymnasium apparatus stored and one sunlit morning two slender,
manly looking young fellows, their faces reflecting perfect
health and happiness, were at the railroad station waiting for
the train which should bear them to the winter quarters of
Fully half the town had gathered to see them off, for Edmeston
was justly proud of its Circus Boys.  As the train finally drew
up and the lads clambered aboard, their school companions set up
a mighty shout, with three cheers for the Circus Boys.
"Don't stick your head in the lion's mouth, Teddy!" was the
parting salute Phil and Teddy received from the boys as the train
"Well, Teddy, we're headed for the Golden Gate at last!"
glowed Phil.
"You bet!" agreed Teddy with more force than elegance.
"I wonder if old Emperor will remember me, Teddy?"
"Sure thing!  But, do you think that 'fool mule,' as Mr. Sparling
calls him, will remember me?  Or will he want to kick me full of
holes before the season has really opened?"
"I shouldn't place too much dependence on a mule," laughed Phil.
"Come on; let's go inside and sit down."
ON THE ROAD ONCE MORE
All was bustle and excitement.
Men were rushing here and there, shouting out hoarse commands.
Elephants were trumpeting shrilly, horses neighing; while, from
many a canvas-wrapped wagon savage beasts of the jungle were
emitting roar upon roar, all voicing their angry protest at being
removed from the winter quarters where they had been at rest for
the past six months.
The Great Sparling Combined Shows were moving out for their long
summer's journey.  The long trains were being rapidly loaded when
Phil Forrest and Teddy Tucker arrived on the scene late in
the afternoon.
It was all new and strange to them, unused as they were to the
ways of a railroad show.  Their baggage had been sent on ahead of
them, so they did not have that to bother with.  Each carried a
suitcase, however, and the boys were now trying to find someone
in authority to ask where they should go and what they should do.
"Hello, Phil, old boy!" howled a familiar voice.
"Who's that?" demanded Teddy.
"Why, it's Rod Palmer, our working mate on the rings!" cried
Phil, dropping his bag and darting across the tracks, where he
had espied a shock of very red hair that he knew could belong
only to Rodney Palmer.
Teddy strolled over with rather more dignity.
"Howdy?" he greeted just as Phil and the red-haired boy were
wringing each other's hands.  "Anybody'd think you two were long
lost brothers."
"We are, aren't we, Rod?" glowed Phil.
"And we have been, ever since you boys showed me the brook where
I could wash my face back in that tank town where you two lived.
That was last summer.  Seems like it was yesterday."
"Yes, and we work together again, I hear?  I'm glad of that.
I guess you've been doing something this winter," decided Rodney,
after a critical survey of the lads.  "You sure are both in
fine condition.  Quite a little lighter than you were last
season, aren't you, Phil?"
"No; I weigh ten pounds more."
"Then you must be mighty hard."
"Hard as a keg of nails, but I hope not quite so stiff,"
laughed Phil.
"What you been working at?"
"Rings, mostly.  We've done some practicing on the trapeze.
What did you do all winter?"
"Me?  Oh, I joined a team that was playing vaudeville houses.
I was the second man in a ring act.  Made good money and saved
most of it.  Why didn't you join out for the vaudeville?"
"We spent our winter at school," answered Phil.
"That's a good stunt at that.  In the tank town, I suppose?"
grinned the red-haired boy.
"You might call it that, but it's a pretty good town, just the
same," replied Phil.  "I saw many worse ones while we were out
last season."
"And you'll see a lot more this season.  Wait till we get to
playing some of those way-back western towns.  I was out there
with a show once, and I know what I'm talking about.  Where are
you berthed?"
"I don't know," answered Phil.  "Where are you?"
"Car number fourteen.  Haven't seen the old man, then?"
"Mr. Sparling?  No.  And I want to see him at once.  Where shall
I find him?"
"He was here half an hour ago.  Maybe he's in his office."
"Where is that?"
"Private car number one.  Yes; the old man has his own elegant
car this season.  He's living high, I tell you.  No more sleeping
out in an old wagon that has no springs.  It will be great to get
into a real bed every night, won't it?"
Teddy shook his head doubtfully.
"I don't know 'bout that."
"I should think it would be pretty warm on a hot night,"
nodded Phil.
"And what about the rainy nights?" laughed Rodney.  "Taking it
altogether, I guess I'll take the Pullman for mine--"
"There goes Mr. Sparling now," interjected Teddy.
"Just climbing aboard a car.  See him?"
"That's number one," advised Rodney.  "Better skip, if you want
to catch him.  He's hard to land today.  There's a lot for him to
look after."
"Yes; come on, Teddy.  Get your grip," said Phil, hurrying over
to where he had dropped his suitcase.
"But it's going to be a great show," called Rodney.
"Especially the flying-ring act," laughed Phil.
A few minutes later both boys climbed aboard the private car,
and, leaving their bags on the platform, pushed open the door
and entered.
Mr. Sparling was seated at a roll-top desk in an office-like
compartment, frowning over some document that he held in
The boys waited until he should look up.  He did so suddenly,
peering at them from beneath his heavy eyebrows.  Phil was not
sure, from the showman's expression, whether he had recognized
them or not.  Mr. Sparling answered this question almost at once.
"How are you, Forrest?  Well, Tucker, I suppose you've come back
primed to put my whole show to the bad, eh?"
"Maybe," answered Teddy carelessly.
"Oh, maybe, eh?  So that's the way the flag's blowing, is it?
Well, you let me catch you doing it and--stand up here, you two,
and let me look at you."
He gazed long and searchingly at the Circus Boys, noting every
line of their slender, shapely figures.
"You'll do," he growled.
"Yes, sir," answered Phil, smiling.
"Shake hands."
Mr. Sparling thrust out both hands toward them with almost
disconcerting suddenness.
"Ouch!" howled Teddy, writhing under the grip the showman gave
him, but if Phil got a pressure of equal force he made no sign.
"Where's your baggage?"
"We sent our trunks on yesterday.  I presume they are here
somewhere, sir."
"If they're not in your car, let me know."
"If you will be good enough to tell me where our car is I will
find out at once."
The showman consulted a typewritten list.
"You are both in car number eleven.  The porter will show you the
berths that have been assigned to you, and I hope you will both
obey the rules of the cars."
"Oh, yes, sir," answered Phil.
"I know you will, but I'm not so sure of your fat friend here.
I think it might be a good plan to tie him in his berth, or he'll
be falling off the platform some night, get under the wheels and
wreck the train."
"I don't walk in my sleep," answered Teddy.
"Oh, you don't?"
Mr. Sparling frowned; then his face broke out into a broad smile.
"I always said you were hopeless.  Run along, and get
settled now.  You understand that you will keep your berth
all season, don't you?"
"Yes, sir.  What time do we go out?"
"One section has already gone.  The next and last will leave
tonight about ten o'clock.  We want to make an early start, for
the labor is all green.  It'll take three times as long to put up
the rag as usual."
"The rag?  What's the rag?" questioned Teddy.
"Beg pardon," mocked Mr. Sparling.  "I had forgotten that you are
still a Reuben.  A rag is a tent, in show parlance."
"Any orders after we get settled?" asked Phil.
"Nothing for you to do till parade time tomorrow.  You will look
to the same executives that you did last year.  There has been no
change in them."
The lads hurried from the private car, and after searching about
the railroad yard for fully half an hour they came upon car
number eleven.  This was a bright, orange-colored car with the
name of the Sparling Shows painted in gilt letters near the roof,
just under the eaves.  The smell of fresh paint was everywhere,
but the wagons being covered with canvas made it impossible for
them to see how the new wagons looked.  There were many of these
loaded on flat cars, with which the railroad yard seemed to
"Looks bigger than Barnum & Bailey's," nodded Teddy,
feeling a growing pride that he was connected with so great
an organization.
"Not quite, I guess," replied Phil, mounting the platform of
number eleven.
The boys introduced themselves to the porter, who showed them
to their berths.  These were much like those in the ordinary
sleeper, except that the upper berths had narrow windows looking
out from them.  Across each berth was stretched a strong piece
Phil asked the porter what the string was for.
"To hang your trousers on, sah," was the enlightening answer.
"There's hooks for the rest of your clothes just outside
the berths."
"This looks pretty good to me," said Phil, peering out through
the screened window of his berth.
"Reminds me of when I used to go to sleep in the woodbox behind
the stove where I lived last year in Edmeston," grumbled Teddy
in a muffled voice, as he rummaged about his berth trying to
accustom himself to it.  Teddy never had ridden in a sleeping
car, so it was all new and strange to him.
"Say, who sleeps upstairs?" he called to the porter.
"The performers, sah--some of them.  This heah is the performers'
"How do they get up there?  On a rope ladder?"
Phil shouted.
"You ninny, this isn't a circus performance.  No; of course they
don't climb up on a rope ladder as if they were starting a
trapeze act."
"How, then?"
"The porter brings out a little step ladder, and it's just like
walking upstairs, only it isn't."
"Huh!" grunted Teddy.  "Do they have a net under them all night?"
"A net?  What for?"
"Case they fall out of bed."
"Put him out!" shouted several performers who were engaged in
settling themselves in their own quarters.  "He's too new for
this outfit."
Phil drew his companion aside and read him a lecture on not
asking so many questions, advising Teddy to keep his ears and
eyes open instead.
Teddy grumbled and returned to the work of unpacking his bag.
Inquiry for their trunks developed the fact that they would have
to look for these in the baggage car; that no trunks were allowed
in the sleepers.
Everything about the car was new and fresh, the linen white and
clean, while the wash room, with its mahogany trimmings, plate
glass mirrors and upholstered seats, was quite the most elaborate
thing that Teddy had ever seen.
He called to Phil to come and look at it.
"Yes, it is very handsome.  I am sure we shall get to be very
fond of our home on wheels before the season is ended.  I'm going
out now to see if our trunks have arrived."
Phil, after some hunting about, succeeded in finding the baggage
man of the train, from whom he learned that the trunks had
arrived and were packed away in the baggage car.
By this time night had fallen.  With it came even greater
confusion, while torches flared up here and there to light the
scene of bustle and excitement.
It was all very confusing to Phil, and he was in constant fear of
being run down by switching engines that were shunting cars back
and forth as fast as they were loaded, rapidly making up the
circus train.  The Circus Boy wondered if he ever could get used
to being with a railroad show.
"I must be getting back or I shall not be able to find number
eleven," decided Phil finally.  "I really haven't the least idea
where it is now."
The huge canvas-covered wagons stood up in the air like a
procession of wraiths of the night, muttered growls and guttural
coughs issuing from their interiors.  All this was disturbing to
one not used to it.
Phil started on a run across the tracks in search of his car.
In the meantime Teddy Tucker, finding himself alone, had
sauntered forth to watch the loading, and when he ventured abroad
trouble usually followed.
The lad soon became so interested in the progress of the work
that he was excitedly shouting out orders to the men, offering
suggestions and criticisms of the way they were doing that work.
Now, most of the men in the labor gang were new--that is, they
had not been with the Sparling show the previous season, and
hence did not know Teddy by sight.  After a time they tired of
his running fire of comment.  They had several times roughly
warned him to go on about his business.  But Teddy did not heed
their advice, and likewise forgot all about that which Phil had
given him earlier in the evening.
He kept right on telling the men how to load the circus, for,
if there was one thing in the world that Teddy Tucker loved more
than another it was to "boss" somebody.
All at once the lad felt himself suddenly seized from behind and
lifted off his feet.  At the same time a rough hand was clapped
over his mouth.
The Circus Boy tried to utter a yell, but he found it impossible
for him to do so.  Teddy kicked and fought so vigorously that it
was all his captor could do to hold him.
"Come and help me.  We'll fix the fresh kid this time," called
the fellow in whose grip the lad was struggling.
"What's the matter, Larry?  Is he too much for you?" laughed the
"He's the biggest little man I ever got my fists on.  Gimme a
"What are you going to do with him?"
"I'll show you in a minute."
"Maybe he's with the show.  He's slippery enough to be
a performer."
"No such thing.  And I don't care if he is.  I'll teach him not
to interfere with the men.  Grab hold and help me carry him."
Together they lifted the kicking, squirming, fighting boy,
carrying him on down the tracks, not putting him down until they
had reached the standpipe of a nearby water tank, where the
locomotives took on their supply of fresh water.
"Jerk that spout around!" commanded Larry, sitting down on Tucker
with a force that made the lad gasp.
"Can't reach the chain."
"Then get a pike pole, and be quick about it.  The foreman will
be looking for us first thing we know.  If he finds us here he'll
fire us before we get started."
"See here, Larry, what are you going to do?" demanded the
other suspiciously.
"My eyes, but you're inquisitive!  Going to wash the kid down.
Next time mebby he won't be so fresh."
And "wash" they did.
Suddenly the full stream from the standpipe spurted down.
Larry promptly let go of his captive.  Teddy was right in the
path of the downpour, and the next instant he was struggling in
The showman dropped him and started to run.
Teddy let out a choking howl, grasping frantically for his
A moment later the lad's hands closed over Larry's ankles, and
the man was able to free himself from the boy's grip Teddy had
him down and dragged him under the stream that was pouring down
perfect deluge.  The Circus Boy, being strong and muscular, was
to accomplish this with slight exertion.
Larry's companion was making no effort to assist his fallen
Instead, the fellow was howling with delight.
No sooner, however, had Teddy raised the man and slammed him down
on his back under the spout, than the lad let go of his victim
and darted off into the shadows.  Teddy realized that it was high
time he was leaving.
The man, fuming with rage, uttering loud-voiced threats of
vengeance, scrambled out of the flood and began rushing up and
down the tracks in search of Teddy.
But the boy was nowhere to be found.  He had hastily climbed over
a fence, where he crouched, dripping wet, watching the antics of
the enraged Larry.
"Guess he won't bother another boy right away," grinned Teddy,
not heeding his own wet and bedraggled condition.
The two showmen finally gave up their quest, and all at once
started on a run in the opposite direction.
"Now, I wonder what's made them run away like that?  Surely they
aren't scared of me.  I wonder?  Guess I'll go over and
Leaving his hiding place, the lad retraced his steps across the
tracks until finally, coming up with a man, who proved to be the
superintendent of the yard, Teddy asked him where sleeping car
number eleven was located.
"Eleven?  The sleepers have all gone, young man."
"But I thought--"
"Went out regular on the 9:30 express."
Teddy groaned.  Here he was, left behind before the show
had all gotten away from its winter quarters.  But he noted
that the train bearing the cages and other equipment was still
in the yard.  There was yet a chance for him.
"Wha--what time does that train go?" he asked pointing to the
last section.
"Going now.  Why, what's the matter with you youngster?
The train is moving now."
"Going?  The matter is that I've got to go with them," cried the
lad, suddenly darting toward the moving train.
"Come back here!  Come back!  Do you want to be killed?"
"I've got to get on that train!" Teddy shouted back at
the superintendent.
The great stock cars were rumbling by as the boy drew near the
track, going faster every moment.  By the light of a switch lamp
Teddy could make out a ladder running up to the roof of one of
the box cars.
He could hear the yard superintendent running toward
him shouting.
"He'll have me, if I don't do something.  Then I will be wholly
left," decided Teddy.  "I'm going to try it."
As the big stock car slipped past him the lad sprang up into the
air, his eyes fixed on the ladder.  His circus training came in
handy here, for Teddy hit the mark unerringly, though it had been
considerably above his head.  The next second his fingers closed
over a rung of the ladder, and there he hung, dangling in the
air, with the train now rushing over switches, rapidly gaining
momentum as it stretched out headed for the open country.
PHIL TO RESCUE
Phil Forrest was in a panic of uneasiness.
No sooner had his own section started than he made the discovery
that Teddy Tucker was not on board.  Then the lad went through
the train in the hope that his companion had gotten on the
wrong car.  There was no trace of Teddy.
In the meantime Teddy had slowly clambered to the roof of the
stock car, where he stretched himself out, clinging to the
running board, with the big car swaying beneath him.  The wind
seemed, up there, to be blowing a perfect gale, and it was all
the boy could do to hold on.  After a while he saw a light
approaching him.  The light was in the hands of a brakeman who
was working his way over the train toward the caboose.
He soon came up to where Teddy was lying.  There he stopped.
"Well, youngster, what are you doing here?" he demanded, flashing
his light into the face of the uncomfortable Teddy.
"Trying to ride."
"I suppose you know you are breaking the law and that I'll have
to turn you over to a policeman or a constable the next town we
"Nothing of the sort!  What do you take me for?  Think I'm some
kind of tramp?" objected the lad.  "Go on and let me alone."
The brakeman looked closer.  He observed that the boy was soaking
wet, but that, despite this, he was well dressed.
"What are you, if not a tramp?"
"I'm with the show."
The brakeman laughed long and loud, but Teddy was more interested
in the man's easy poise on the swaying car than in what he said.
"Wish I could do that," muttered the lad admiringly.
"What's that?"
"Nothing, only I was thinking out loud."
"Well, you'll get off at the next stop unless you can prove that
you belong here."
"I won't," protested Teddy stubbornly.
"We'll see about that.  Come down here on the flat car behind
this one, and we'll find out.  I see some of the show people
Besides, you're liable to fall off here and get killed.  Come
"I'll fall off if I try to get up."
"And you a showman?" laughed the brakeman satirically, at the
same time grabbing Teddy by the coat collar and jerking him to
The trainman did not appear to mind the giddy swaying of the
stock car.  He permitted Teddy to walk on the running board while
he himself stepped carelessly along on the sloping roof of the
car, though not relaxing his grip on the collar of Teddy Tucker.
Bidding the boy to hang to the brake wheel, the brakeman began
climbing down the end ladder, so as to catch Teddy in case he
were to fall.  After him came the Circus Boy, cautiously picking
his way down the ladder.
"Any of you fellows know this kid?" demanded the trainman,
flashing his lantern into Teddy's face.  "He says he's with
"Put him off!" howled one of the roustabouts who had been
sleeping on the flat car under a cage.  "Never saw him before."
"You sit down there, young man.  Next stop, off you go,"
announced the brakeman sternly.
"I'll bet you I don't," retorted Teddy Tucker aggressively.
"We'll see about that."
"Quit your music; we want to go to sleep," growled a showman
The brakeman put down his lantern and seated himself on the side
of the flat car.  He did not propose to leave the boy until he
had seen him safely off the train.
"How'd you get wet?" questioned Tucker's captor.
"Some fellows ducked me."
The trainman roared, which once more aroused the ire of the
roustabouts who were trying to sleep.
They had gone on for an hour, when finally the train slowed down.
"Here's where you hit the ties," advised the brakeman,
peering ahead.
"Where are we?"
"McQueen's siding.  We stop here to let an express by.  And I
want to tell you that it won't be healthy for you if I catch you
on this train again.  Now, get off!"
Teddy making no move to obey, the railroad man gently but firmly
assisted him over the side of the car, dropping him down the
embankment by the side of the track.
"I'll make you pay for this if I ever catch you again,"
threatened Teddy from the bottom of the bank, as he scrambled to
Observing that the trainman was holding his light over the side
of the car and peering down at him, Teddy ran along on all fours
until he was out of sight of the brakeman, then he straightened
up and ran toward the rear of the train as fast as his feet would
carry him, while the railroad man began climbing over the cars
again, headed for the caboose at the rear.
Teddy had gained the rear of the train by this time, but he did
not show himself just yet.  He waited until the flagman had come
in, and until the fellow who had put him off had disappeared in
the caboose.
At that, Teddy sprang up, and, swinging to the platform of the
caboose, quickly climbed the iron ladder that led to the roof of
the little boxlike car.  He had no sooner flattened himself on
the roof than the train began to move again.
Only one more stop was made during the night and that for water.
Just before daylight they rumbled into the yards at Atlantic
City, and Teddy scrambled from his unsteady perch, quickly
clambering down so as to be out of the way before the trainmen
should discover his presence.
But quickly as he had acted, he had not been quick enough.
The trainman who had put him off down the line collared the lad
the minute his feet touched the platform of the caboose.
"You here again?" he demanded sternly.
Teddy grinned sheepishly.
"I told you you couldn't put me off."
"We'll see about that.  Here, officer."  He beckoned to a
"This kid has been stealing a ride.  I put him off once.  I turn
over to you now."
"All right.  Young man, you come with me!"
Teddy protested indignantly, but the officer, with a firm grip on
his arm, dragged the lad along with him.  They proceeded on up
the tracks toward the station, the lad insisting that he was with
the show and that he had a right to ride wherever he pleased.
"Teddy!" shouted a voice, just as they stepped on the long
platform that led down to the street.
"Phil!" howled the lad.  "Come and save me!  A policeman's got me
and he's taking me to jail."
Phil Forrest ran to them.
"Here, here!  What's this boy done?" he demanded.
RENEWING OLD ACQUAINTANCES
"Well, Teddy, I must say you have made a good start," grinned
Phil, after necessary explanations had been made and the young
Circus Boy had been released by the policeman who had him
in tow."  A few minutes more and you would have been in a
police station.  I can imagine how pleased Mr. Sparling would
have been to hear that."
Teddy hung his head.
"Your clothes are a sight, too.  How did--what happened?
Did you fall in a creek, or something of that sort?"
The lad explained briefly how he had been captured by the two men
and ducked under the standpipe of the water tank.
"But I soaked him, too," Tucker added triumphantly."  And I'm
going to soak him again.  The first man I come across whose name
is Larry is going to get it from me," threatened the lad, shaking
his fist angrily.
"You come over to the sleeper with me and get into some decent
looking clothes.  I'm ashamed of you, Teddy Tucker."
"So am I," grinned the boy as they turned to go, Phil leading
the way to the car number eleven, from which the performers
were beginning to straggle, rubbing their eyes and
stretching themselves.
The change of clothing having been made, the lads started for the
lot, hoping that they might find the old coffee stand and have a
cup before breakfast.  To their surprise, upon arriving at the
lot, they found the cook tent up and the breakfast cooking.
"Why, how did you ever get this tent here and up so quickly?"
asked Phil after they had greeted their old friend of the
"Came in on the flying squadron.  This is a railroad show now,
you know," answered the head steward, after greeting the boys.
"Flying squadron?  What's that?" demanded Teddy, interested
"The flying squadron is the train that goes out first.
It carries the cook tent and other things that will be
needed first.  We didn't have that last year.  You'll find a lot
of new things, and some that you won't like as well as you did
when we had the old road show.  What's your act this year?"
"Same as last."
"Yes, and the rings.  My friend Teddy I expect will ride the
educated mule again."
While they were talking the steward was preparing a pot of
steaming coffee for them, which he soon handed over to the lads
with a plate of wafers, of which they disposed in short order.
It was broad daylight by this time, and the boys decided to go
out and watch the erection of the tents.  It was all new and full
of interest to them.  As they caught the odor of trampled grass
and the smell of the canvas their old enthusiasm came back to
them with added force.
"It's great to be a circus man, isn't it, Phil?" breathed Teddy.
"It is unless one is getting into trouble all the time, the way
you do.  I expect that, some of these days, you'll get something
you don't want."
"Oh, I don't know.  But I am sure it will be something
quite serious."
"You better look out for yourself," growled Teddy.  "I'll take
care of myself."
"Yes; the way you did last night," retorted Phil, with a
hearty laugh.  "Come on, now; let's not quarrel.  I want to find
some of our old friends.  Isn't that Mr. Miaco over there by the
dressing tent?"
Both lads ran toward their old friend, the head clown, with
outstretched hands, and Mr. Miaco, seeing them coming, hastened
forward to greet them.
"Well, well, boys!  How are you?"
"Oh, we're fine," glowed Phil.  "And we are glad to be back
again, let me tell you."
"No more so than your old friends are to have you back.
Same old act?"
"What have you boys been doing this winter?"
"Studying and exercising."
"Yes; I knew, from your condition, that you have been keeping up
your work.  Got anything new?"
"Not much.  Trapeze."
"Good!  I'll bet you will be in some of the flying-bar acts
before the season is over.  We have a lot of swell performers
this season."
"So I have heard.  Who are some of them?"
"Well, there's the Flying Four."
"Who are they?" questioned Teddy.
"Trapeze performers.  They're great--the best in the business.
And then there's The Limit."
"Talk United States," demanded Teddy.  "The Limit?  Whoever heard
"In other words, the Dip of Death."
Teddy shook his head helplessly.
"That is the somersaulting automobile.  A pretty young woman
rides in it, and some fine day she won't.  I never did like those
freak acts.  But the public does," sighed the old circus man.
"The really difficult feats, that require years of practice,
patrons don't seem to give a rap for.  But let somebody do a
stunt in which he is in danger of suddenly ending his life, then
you'll see the people howl with delight.  I sometimes think they
would be half tickled to death to see some of us break our necks.
There's a friend of yours, Phil."
"Emperor, the old elephant that you rode last year.  They are
taking him to the menagerie tent."
"Whistle to him, Phil," suggested Teddy.
Phil uttered a low, peculiar whistle.
The big elephant's ears flapped.  The procession that he was
leading came to a sudden stop and Emperor trumpeted shrilly.
"He hasn't forgotten me," breathed Phil happily.  "Dear old
"Pipe him up again," urged Teddy.
"No; I wouldn't dare.  He would be likely to break away from
Mr. Kennedy and might trample some of the people about here.
See, Mr. Kennedy is having his troubles as it is."
"Done any tumbling since you closed last fall?" questioned
"We have practiced a little.  I want to learn, if you will
"Why, you can tumble already, Phil."
"Yes; but I want to do something better--the springboard."
"They've got a leaping act this year."
"Performers and clowns leap over a herd of elephants.
You've seen the act, haven't you?"
"Oh, yes; I know what it is.  I wish I were able to do it."
"You will be.  It is not difficult, only one has to have a
natural bent for it.  Now, your friend Teddy ought to make a
fine leaper."
"I am," interposed Teddy pompously.  "I always was."
"Yes; you're the whole show from your way of thinking," laughed
Mr. Miaco.  "I must go see if my trunk is placed.  See you
later, boys."
After leaving the clown, the lads strolled about the lot.  They
discovered that the Sparling Shows was a big organization.  The
had been very much enlarged and the canvas looked new and white.
In the menagerie tent the boys found many new cages, gorgeous in
red and gold, with a great variety of animals that had not been
in the show the previous summer.
Emperor's delight at seeing his little friend again was expressed
in loud trumpetings, and his sinuous trunk quickly found its way
into Phil Forrest's pocket in search of sweets.  And Emperor was
not disappointed.  In one coat pocket he found a liberal supply
of candy, while the other held a bag of peanuts, to all of which
the big elephant helped himself freely until no more was left.
"Have you got my trappings ready, Mr. Kennedy?" asked Phil
of the keeper.
"You'll find the stuff in fine shape.  The old man has had a new
bonnet made for Emperor and a new blanket.  He'll be right smart
when he enters the ring today.  Been over to the cook tent yet?"
"Yes; but not for breakfast.  We are going soon now.  We want to
see them raise the big top first."
When the boys had passed out into the open they observed the
big circus tent rising slowly from the ground where it had been
laid out, the various pieces laced together by nimble fingers.
Mr. Sparling was on the lot watching everything at the same time.
This was the first time the tent had been pitched, and, as has
been said before, most of the men were green at their work.
Yet, under the boisterous prodding of the boss canvasman,
the white city was going up rapidly and with some semblance
As soon as the dome of the big top left the ground the boys
crawled under and went inside.  Here all was excitement
and confusion.  Men were shouting their commands, above which
the voice of the boss canvasman rose distinctly.
The dome of the tent by this time was halfway up the long, green
center pole, while men were hurrying in with quarter poles on
their shoulders, and which they quickly stood on end and guided
into place in the bellying canvas.
The eyes of the Circus Boys sparkled with enthusiasm.
"I wish we were up there on the rings," breathed Teddy.
"We shall be soon, old fellow," answered Phil, patting him on
the shoulder.  "And for many days after this, I hope.  Hello, I
wonder what's wrong up there?"
Phil's quick glance had caught something up near the half-raised
dome that impressed him as not being right.
"Look out aloft!" he sang out warningly.
"The key rope's going.  Grab the other line!" bellowed the
boss canvasman.
"You fools!" roared Mr. Sparling from the opposite side
of the tent, as he quickly noted what was happening.  "Run for
your lives!  You'll have the whole outfit down on your heads!"
The men fled, letting go of ropes and poles, diving for places of
safety, many of them knowing what it meant to have that big tent
collapse and descend upon them.
The man who had held the key rope was the one who had been
at fault.  Some of the new men had called to him to give them
a hand on another line, and he, a new man himself, all forgetful
of the important task that had been assigned to him, dropped the
key rope, as it is called, turning to assist his associate.
Instantly the dome of the big top began to settle with a grating
noise as the huge iron ring in the peak began slipping down the
center pole.
The key rope coiled on the ground was running out and squirming
up into the air.  Only a single coil of it remained when Phil
suddenly darted forward.  With a bound, he threw himself upon the
rope, giving it a quick twist about his arm.
The instant Phil had fastened his grip upon the rope he shot up
into the air so quickly that the onlookers failed to catch the
meaning of his sudden flight.
One pair of eyes, however, saw and understood.  They belonged to
Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show.
"The boy will he killed!" he groaned.  "Let go!"
DOING A MAN'S WORK
For one brief instant Phil Forrest's head was giddy and his
breath fairly left his body from the speed with which he was
propelled upward on the key rope.
But the lad had not for a second lost his presence of mind.
Below him was some eight feet of the rope dangling in the air.
With a sudden movement that could only have been executed by one
with unusual strength and agility, Phil let the rope slip through
his hands just enough to slacken his speed.  Instantly he threw
himself around the center pole, twisting the rope around and
around it, each twist slackening his upward flight a little.
He knew that, were his head to strike the iron ring in the dome
at the speed he was traveling, he would undoubtedly be killed.
It was as much to prevent this as to save the tent that Phil took
the action he did, though his one real thought was to save his
employer's property.
Now the rapid upward shoot had dwindled to a slow, gradual
slipping of the rope as it moved up the center pole inch by inch.
But Phil's peril was even greater than before.  The moment that
heavy iron ring began pressing down on his head and shoulders
with the weight of the canvas behind it, there would be nothing
for him to do but to let go.
A forty-foot fall to the hard ground below seemed inevitable.
Yet he did not lose his presence of mind for an instant.
"Give him a hand!" yelled the boss canvasman.
"How?  How?" shouted the canvasmen.  "We can't reach him."
"Get a net under that boy, you blockheads!" thundered Mr.
rushing over from his station.  "Don't you see he's bound to
and if he does he'll break his neck?"
The boss canvasman ordered three of his men to get the trapeze
performers' big net that lay in a heap near the ring nearest the
dressing tent, for there were two rings now in the Great Sparling
Combined Shows.
They dragged it over as quickly as possible; then willing hands
grabbed it and stretched the heavy net out.  At Mr. Sparling's
direction the four corners of the net were manned and the
safety device raised from the ground, ready to catch the lad
should he fall.
"Now let go and drop!" roared Mr. Sparling.
They heard Phil laugh from his lofty perch.
"Jump, I say!"
"What, and let the tent down on you all?"
By this time the lad had curled his feet up over his head, and
they saw that he was bracing his feet against the iron ring,
literally holding the tent up with his own powerful muscles.
Of course, as a matter of fact, Phil was holding a very small
part of the weight of the tent, but as it was, the strain
was terrific.
Hanging head down, his face flushed until it seemed as if the
blood must burst through the skin, he hung there as calmly as if
he were not in imminent peril of his life.  Then, too, there was
the danger to those below him.  If the tent should collapse some
of them would be killed, for there were now few quarter poles in
place to break the fall of the heavy canvas.
"I say, down there!" he cried, finally managing to make himself
heard above the uproar.
"Are you going to drop?" shouted Mr. Sparling.
"No; do you want me to let the tent drop on you?  If you'll all
get out there'll be fewer hurt in case I have to let go."
"That boy!" groaned the showman.
"Toss me a line and be quick about it," called Phil shrilly.
"What can you do with a line?" demanded the showman, now more
excited than he had ever been in his life.
"Give him a line!"
"A strong one," warned Phil, his voice not nearly as far reaching
as it had been.
"A line!" bellowed Mr. Sparling.  "He knows what he wants it for,
and he's got more sense than the whole bunch of us."
A coil of rope shot up.  But it missed Phil by about six feet.
Another one was forthcoming almost instantly.  This time,
however, Mr. Sparling snatched it from the hands of the showman
who had made the wild cast.
"Idiot!" he roared, pushing the man aside.
Once more the coil sailed up, unrolling as it went.  This time
Phil grasped it with his free hand, which he had liberated for
the purpose.
"Now, be careful," warned Mr. Sparling.  "I don't know what you
think you're going to do; but whatever you start you're sure
To this Phil made no reply.  He was getting too weak to talk, and
his tired body trembled.
In the end of the key rope a big loop had been formed, this
after the tent was up, was slipped over a cleat to prevent a
possibility of the rope slipping its fastenings and letting the
Phil had discovered the loop when it finally slipped up so his
one hand was pressed against the knot.
Every second the weight on his feet--on his whole body, in fact,
was getting heavier.
"If I can hold on a minute longer, I'll make it!" he muttered,
his breath coming in short, quick gasps.
What he was seeking to do was to get the rope they had tossed to
him, through the big loop.  In his effort to do so, the coil
slipped from his hands, knocking a canvasman down as it fell,
but the lad had held to the other end with a desperate grip.
Now he began working it through the loop inch by inch.  It was
a slow process, but he was succeeding even better than he
Mr. Sparling now saw what Phil's purpose was.  About the same
time the others down there made the same discovery.
They set up a cheer of approval.
"Wait!" commanded the owner of the show.  "The lad isn't out of
the woods yet.  You men on the net look lively there.  If you
don't catch him should he fall, you take my word for it, it'll go
mighty hard with you."
"We'll catch him."
"You'd better, if you know what's good for you.  Goodness, but
he's got the strength and the grit!  I never saw anything like it
in all my circus experience."
They could not help him.  There was no way by which any of them
could reach Phil, and all they could do was to stand by and do
the best they could at breaking his fall should he be forced to
let go, as it seemed that he must do soon.
Nearer and nearer crept the line toward the ground, but it was
yet far above their heads.  It was moving faster, however, as
Phil got more weight of rope through the loop, thus requiring
less effort on his part to send it along on its journey.
"Side pole!  Side pole!" shouted the boy, barely making himself
heard above the shouts below.
At first they did not catch the meaning of his words.
Mr. Sparling, of course, was the first to do so.
"That's it!  Oh, you idiots!  You wooden Indians!  You thick
Get a side pole, don't you understand?" and the owner made a dive
at the nearest man to him, whereat the fellow quickly
side-stepped
and started off on a run for the pole for which Phil had asked.
But, even then, some of the hands did not understand what he
could want of a side pole.
The instant it was brought Mr. Sparling snatched it from the
hands of the tentman.  Raising the pole, assisted by the boss
canvasman, he was able to reach the loop.  The iron spike in the
end of the pole was thrust through the loop, and by exerting
considerable pressure they were able to force the loop slowly
toward the ground.
"You'll have to hurry!  I can't hang on much longer," cried
Phil weakly.
"We'll hurry, my lad.  It won't be half a minute now," encouraged
Mr. Sparling.  "Stand by here you blockheads, ready to fall on
that rope the minute it gets within reach.  Three of you grab
hold of the coil end and pay it out gradually.  Be careful.
Watch your business."
Three men sprang to do his bidding.
"Here comes the loop!"
Ready hands grasped the dangling rope.
The two strands were quickly carried together and the weight of a
dozen men thrown on them, instantly relieving the strain on Phil
Forrest's body.
Phil had saved the big top, and perhaps a few lives at the
same time.  Now a sudden dizziness seemed to have overtaken him.
Everything appeared to be whirling about him, the big top
spinning like a giant top before his eyes.
"Slide down the rope!" commanded Mr. Sparling.
The lad slowly unwound the rope from his arm and feebly motioned
to them that they were to walk around the pole with their end so
they might hoist the iron ring to the splice of the center pole.
"Never mind anything but yourself!" ordered Mr. Sparling.
"We'll attend to this mix-up ourselves."
Very cautiously and deliberately, more from force of habit
than otherwise, the lad had let his feet down, and with them
was groping for the rope.
"Swing the line between his legs!" roared the owner.  "Going to
let him stay up there all day?"
"That's what we're trying to do," answered a tentman.
"Yes, I see you trying.  That's the trouble with you fellows.
You always think you're trying, and if you are, you never
accomplish anything.  Got, it, Phil?"
"Y--ye--yes."
Twisting his legs about the rope the boy next took a weak grip on
it with both hands, then started slowly to descend.  This he knew
how to do, so the feat was attended with no difficulty other than
the strength required, and of which he had none to spare just at
the present moment.
"Look out!" he called.  He thought he had shouted it in a
loud tone.  As a matter of fact no sound issued from his lips.
But Mr. Sparling whose eyes had been fixed upon the boy,
saw and understood.
"He's falling.  Catch him!"
Phil shot downward head first.  Yet with the instinct of the
showman he curled his head up ever so little as he half
consciously felt himself going.
THE SHOWMAN'S REWARD
Phil struck the net with a violent slap that was heard outside
the big top, though those without did not understand the meaning
of it, nor did they give it heed.
Mr. Sparling was the first to reach him.  The lad had landed on
his shoulders and then struck flat on his back, the proper way
to fall into a net.  Perhaps it was instinct that told him what
The lad was unconscious when the showman lifted him tenderly from
the net and laid him out on the ground.
"Up with that peak!" commanded Mr. Sparling.  "Get some water
and don't crowd around him!  Give the boy air!  Tucker, you hike
for the surgeon."
A shove started Teddy for the surgeon.  In the meantime
Mr. Sparling was working over Phil, seeking to bring him back
to consciousness, which he finally succeeded in doing before
the surgeon arrived.
"Did I fall?" asked Phil, suddenly opening his eyes.
"A high dive," nodded Mr. Sparling.
Phil cast his eyes up to the dome where he saw the canvas
drawing taut.  He knew that he had succeeded and he
smiled contentedly.
By the time the surgeon arrived the boy was on his feet.
"How do you feel?"
"I'm a little sore, Mr. Sparling.  But I guess I'll be fit in a
few minutes."
"Able to walk over to my tent?  If not, I'll have some of the
fellows carry you."
"Oh, no; I can walk if I can get my legs started moving.
They don't seem to be working the way they should this morning,"
laughed the lad.  "My, that tent weighs something doesn't it?"
"It does," agreed the showman.
Just then the surgeon arrived.  After a brief examination he
announced that Phil was not injured, unless, perhaps, he might
have injured himself internally by subjecting himself to the
great strain of holding up the tent.
"I think some breakfast will put me right again," decided
"Haven't you had your breakfast yet?" demanded Mr. Sparling.
"No; I guess I've been too busy."
"Come with me, then.  I haven't had mine either," said
the showman.
Linking his arm within that of the Circus Boy, Mr. Sparling
walked from the tent, not speaking again until they had reached
the manager's private tent.  This was a larger and much more
commodious affair than it had been last year.
He placed Phil in a folding easy chair, and sat down to his desk
where he began writing.
After finishing, Mr. Sparling looked up.
"Phil," he said in a more kindly tone than the lad had ever
before heard him use, "I was under a deep obligation to you
last season.  I'm under a greater one now."
"I wish you wouldn't speak of it, sir.  What I have done is
purely in the line of duty.  It's a fellow's business to be
looking out for his employer's interests.  That's what I have
always tried to do."
"Not only tried, but have," corrected Mr. Sparling.  "That's an
old-fashioned idea of yours.  It's a pity young men don't feel
more that way, these days.  But that wasn't what I wanted to say.
As a little expression of how much I appreciate your interest,
as well as the actual money loss you have saved me, I want to
make you a little present."
"Oh, no no," protested Phil.
"Here is a check which I have made out for a hundred dollars.
That will give you a little start on the season.  But it isn't
all that I am going to do for you--"
"Please, Mr. Sparling.  Believe me I do appreciate your kindness,
but I mustn't take the check.  I couldn't take the check."
"Because I haven't earned it."
"Haven't earned it?  He hasn't earned it!"
The showman threw his hands above his head in a hopeless sort of
"I should not feel that I was doing right.  I want to be
independent, Mr. Sparling.  I have plenty of money.  I have
not spent more than half of what I earned last summer.
This season I hope to lay by a whole lot, so that I shall be
quite independent."
"And so you shall, so you shall, my boy," Sparling exclaimed,
rising and smiting Phil good naturedly with the flat of his hand.
Instead of tearing up the check, however, Mr. Sparling put it in
an envelope which he directed and stamped, then thrust in his
coat pocket.
"I--I hope you understand--hope you do not feel offended,"
said Phil hesitatingly.  "I should not like to have you
misunderstand me."
"Not a bit of it, my lad.  I can't say that I have any higher
opinion of you because of your decision, but--"
Phil glanced up quickly.
"I already have as high an opinion of you as it is possible for
me to have for any human being, and--"
"Thank you.  You'll make me have a swelled head if you keep on
that way," laughed Phil.
"No danger.  You would have had one long ago, if that was
your makeup.  Have you seen Mrs. Sparling yet?"
"No, and I should like to.  May I call on her in your car?"
"Not only may, but she has commissioned me to ask you to.
I think we had better be moving over to the cook tent, now,
if we wish any breakfast.  I expect the hungry roustabouts
have about cleaned the place out by this time."
They soon arrived at the cook tent.  Here Phil left Mr. Sparling
while he passed about among the tables, greeting such of his old
acquaintances as he had not yet seen that morning.  He was
introduced to many of the new ones, all of whom had heard pretty
much everything about Phil's past achievements before he reached
their tables.  The people of a circus are much like a big family,
and everyone knows, or thinks he knows, the whole family history
of his associates.
Even Phil's plucky work in the big top, less than an hour before,
had already traveled to the cook tent, and many curious glances
were directed to the slim, modest, boy as he passed among his
friends quietly, giving them his greetings.
Teddy, on the other hand, was not saying a word.  He was
busy eating.
"How's your appetite this morning, Teddy?" questioned Phil,
sinking down on the bench beside his companion.
"Pretty fair," answered Teddy in a muffled voice.  "I began at
"Top of what?"
"Top of the bill of fare.  I've cleaned up everything halfway
down the list, and I'm going through the whole bill, even if I
have to get up and shake myself down like the miller does a bag
"Be careful, old chap.  Remember you and I have to begin our real
work today.  We shall want to be in the best of shape for our
ring act.  You won't, if you fill up as you are doing now,"
warned Phil.
"Not going to work today."
"What's that?"
"No flying rings today."
"I don't understand."
"No flying rings, I said.  Mr. Sparling isn't going to put on our
"How do you know?" asked Phil in some surprise.
"Heard him say so."
"Why, I came in with him myself less than ten minutes ago--"
"I know.  He stopped right in front of my table here to speak to
the ringmaster.  Heard him say you were not to be allowed to go
on till tomorrow.  We don't have to go in the parade today if we
don't want to, either.  But you are to ride Emperor in the
Grand Entry, and I'm to do my stunt on the educated mule."
"Pshaw, I can work today as well as I ever could," said Phil in a
disappointed tone.  "And I'm going on, too, unless Mr. Sparling
gives me distinct orders to the contrary."
Phil got the orders before he had finished his breakfast.
"Believe me, Phil, I know best," said Mr. Sparling, noting the
lad's disappointment.  "You have had a pretty severe strain this
morning, and to go on now with the excitement of the first day
added to that, I fear might be too much for you.  It might lay
you up for some weeks, and we cannot afford to have that happen,
you know.  I need you altogether too much for that."
"Very well, sir; it shall be as you wish.  I suppose I may go on
in the Grand Entry as usual?"
"Oh, yes, if you wish."
"Very well; then I'll let Mr. Kennedy know.  You had better lie
down and rest while the parade is out."
"Thank you; I hardly think that will be necessary.  I feel fit
enough for work right now."
"Such is youth and enthusiasm," mused the showman, passing on out
of the cook tent, once more to go over his arrangements, for
there were many details to be looked after on this the first day
of the show's season on the road.
Phil called on Mrs. Sparling after breakfast, receiving from the
showman's wife a most hospitable welcome.  She asked him all
about how he had spent the winter, and seemed particularly
interested in Mrs. Cahill, who was now the legal guardian of
both the boys.  Mrs. Sparling already had a letter in her pocket,
with the check for one hundred dollars which the showman had
drawn for Phil.  It was going to Mrs. Cahill to be deposited to
the lad's credit, but he would know nothing of this until the
close of the season.  After he had gone home he would find
himself a hundred dollars richer than he thought.
His call finished, Phil went out and rejoined Teddy.  Together
started back toward the dressing tent to set their trunks in
and get out such of their costumes as they would need that
afternoon and evening.  Then again, the dressing tent was really
the most attractive part of the show to all the performers.  It
here that they talked of their work and life, occasionally
new acts of a minor character, and indulged in pranks like a lot
schoolboys at recess time.
As they were passing down along the outside of the big top,
Phil noticed several laborers belonging to the show sitting
against the side wall sunning themselves.  He observed that one
of the men was eyeing Teddy and himself with rather more than
ordinary interest.
Phil did not give it a second thought, however, until suddenly
Teddy gave his arm a violent pinch.
"What is it?"
"See those fellows sitting there?"
"Yes.  What of it?"
"One of them is the fellow who ducked me under the water tank
back at Germantown."
"You don't say?  Which one?"
"Fellow with the red hair.  I heard them call him Larry as I
passed, or I might not have noticed him particularly.  His hair
is redder than Rod Palmer's.  I should think it would set him
"It certainly would seem so."
"Mister Larry has got something coming to him good and proper,
and he's going to get it, you take my word for that."
Phil laughed good naturedly.
"Please, now, Teddy, forget it.  Don't go and get into any
more mix-ups.  You'll be sending yourself back home first thing
you know.  Then it will be a difficult matter to get into any
other show if you are sent away from this one in disgrace."
"Don't you worry about me.  I'll take care of myself.  I always
do, don't I?"
"I'm afraid I can't agree to that," laughed Phil.  "I should say
that quite the contrary is the case."
Teddy fell suddenly silent as they walked on in the bright
morning light, drinking in the balmy air in long-drawn breaths.
Entering the paddock they turned sharply to the left and pushed
their way through the canvas curtains into the dressing tent.
"Hurrah for the Circus Boys," shouted someone.  "Hello Samson,
are you the strong-armed man that held the tent up by your feet?"
"Strong-footed man, you mean," suggested another.  "A
strong-armed
man uses his arms not his feet."
"Come over here and show yourself," shouted another voice.
Phil walked over and stood smilingly before them.  Nothing seemed
to disturb his persistent good nature.
"Huh, not so much!  I guess they stretched that yarn," grunted
a new performer.
"I guess not," interposed Mr. Miaco.  "I happened to see that
stunt pulled off myself.  It was the biggest thing I ever saw
a man--let alone a boy--get away with."  Then Mr. Miaco went over
the scene with great detail, while Phil stole away to his own
corner, where he busied himself bending over his trunk to hide
his blushes.
But Teddy felt no such emotion.  Almost as soon as he entered the
dressing tent he began searching about for something.  This he
soon found.  It was a pail, but he appeared to be in a hurry.
Picking up the pail he ran with it to the water barrel, that
always stands in the dressing tent, filled the pail and skulked
out as if he did not desire to attract attention.
Once outside the dressing tent Teddy ran at full speed across the
paddock and out into the big top.  A few men were working here
putting up apparatus for the performers.  They gave no heed to
the boy with the pail of water.
Teddy ran his eye along the inside of the tent, nodded and went
on to the middle section where he turned, climbing the steps to
the upper row.
Arriving there he cautiously peered out over the top of the
side wall.  What he saw evidently was not to his liking, for once
more he picked up the pail of water and ran lightly along the top
seat toward the menagerie tent.
All at once he paused, put down his pail and peered out over the
side wall again.  Nodding with satisfaction he picked up the
pail, lifted it to the top of the side wall, once more looked out
measuring the distance well, then suddenly turned the pail bottom
In his course through the big top Teddy had gathered up several
handfuls of sawdust and dirt which he had stirred well into the
water as he ran, making a pasty mess of it.
It was this mixture that he had now poured out over the
side wall.  Teddy waited only an instant to observe the effect
of the deluge that he had turned on.  Then he fled down the
rattling board seats.
Outside a sudden roar broke the stillness.  No sooner had he
reached the bottom of the seats than several men raised up the
side wall and came tumbling in, yelling like Comanche Indians.
Teddy cast one frightened look at them, then ran like
all possessed.  What he had seen was a red-haired man in the
lead, dripping wet with hair and clothes plastered with mud
and sawdust.  Larry was after the lad in full cry.
TRYING THE CULPRIT
"Stop him!" howled Larry, as he, followed by half a dozen
blue-shirted fellows, bolted into the arena in pursuit of the lad
who had emptied the pail of muddy water over him.
Teddy, still clinging to the pail, was sprinting down the
concourse as if his very life depended upon it.  A canvasman,
hearing Larry's call, and suspecting the boy was wanted for
something quite serious, rushed out, heading Teddy off.
It looked as if the lad were to be captured right here.
But Teddy Tucker was not yet at the end of his resources.  He ran
straight on as if he had not observed the canvasman.  Just as he
reached the man, and the latter's hands were stretched out to
intercept him, Teddy hurled the pail full in the fellow's face.
Then the lad darted to one side and fled toward the paddock.
The canvasman had joined the procession by this time.  Into the
dressing tent burst the boy, followed by Larry, the others having
brought up sharply just before reaching the dressing room,
knowing full well that they had no business there and that
their presence would be quickly and effectively resented.
Larry, consumed with rage, did not stop to think about this,
so he dashed on blindly to his fate.
At first the circus performers in the dressing tent could not
imagine what was going on.  Clotheslines came down, properties
were upset and in a moment the tent was in confusion.
"Stop that!" bellowed an irate performer.
Larry gave no heed to the command, and Teddy was in too big a
hurry to stop to explain.
Suddenly Phil Forrest, realizing that his little companion was in
danger, gave a leap.  He landed on Larry's back, pinioning the
fellow's arms to his sides.
"You stop that now!  You let him alone!" commanded Phil.
Before the canvasman could make an effort to free himself,
Mr. Miaco, the head clown, took a hand in the proceedings.
Throwing Phil from the tentman, Miaco jerked Larry about,
and demanded to know what he meant by intruding on the privacy
of the dressing tent in that manner.
"I want that kid," he growled.
"Put him out!" howled a voice.
"What do you want him for?"
"He--he dumped a pail of water over me.  I'll get even with him.
"How about this, Master Teddy?" questioned Mr. Miaco.
Teddy explained briefly how the fellow Larry and a companion
had ducked him under the water tank, and had ruined his clothes,
together with causing him to miss his train.
"This demands investigation," decided Mr. Miaco gravely.
"Fellows, it is evident that we had better try this man.
That is the best way to dispose of his case."
"Yes, yes; try him!" they shouted.
"Whom shall we have for judge?"
"Oscar, the midget!"
The Smallest Man on Earth was quickly boosted to the top of a
property box.
"Vot iss?" questioned the midget, his wizened, yellow little face
wrinkling into a questioning smile.
"We are going to try this fellow, Larry, and you are to be
"Yah," agreed Oscar, after which he subsided, listening to the
proceedings that followed, with grave, expressionless eyes.
It is doubtful if Oscar understood what it was all about, but his
gravity and judicial manner sent the whole dressing tent into an
uproar of merriment.
After the evidence was all in, the entire company taking part in
testifying, amid much merriment--for the performers entered into
the spirit of the trial like a lot of schoolboys--Oscar was asked
to decide what should be done with the prisoner Larry.
Oscar was at a loss to know how to answer.
"Duck him," suggested one.
This was an inspiration to Oscar.  He smiled broadly.
"Yah, dat iss."
"What iss?" demanded the Tallest Man On Earth.  "Talk
United States."
"Yah," agreed Oscar, smiling seraphically.  "Duck um."
"Larry, it is the verdict of this court that you be ducked,
as the only fitting punishment for one who has committed the
crime of laying hands on a Circus Boy.  Are we all agreed on the
punishment meted out by the dignified judge?"
"Yes, yes!" they shouted.  "The rain barrel for him."
"Men, do your duty!" cried Mr. Miaco.
"I wouldn't do that," interposed Phil.  "You haven't any more
right to duck him than he had to put Teddy under the water tank.
It isn't right."
But they gave no heed to his protests.  Willing hands
grabbed the red-headed tentman, whose kicks and struggles
availed him nothing.  Raising him over the barrel of water
they soused him in head first, ducking him again and again.
"Take him out.  You'll drown him," begged Phil.
Then they hauled Larry out, shaking the water out of him.
As soon as his coughing ceased, he threatened dire vengeance
against his assailants.
Four performers then carried their victim to the opening of the
dressing tent and threw him out bodily.
Instantly Larry's companions saw him fall at their feet, and
heard his angry explanation of the indignities that had been
heaped upon him.  There was a lively scrambling over the ground,
and the next instant a volley of stones was hurled into the
dressing tent.
Phil was just coming out on his way to the main entrance as the
row began.  A stone just grazed his cheek.  Without giving the
least heed to the assailants, he turned to cross the paddock in
order to slip out under the tent and go on about his business.
Most lads would have run under the circumstances.  Not so Phil.
His were steady nerves.
"There he is!  Grab him!" shouted Larry, catching sight of Phil
and charging that Phil had been one of those who had helped
Such was not the case, however, for instead of having taken part
in the ducking, Phil Forrest had tried to prevent it.
Larry and another man were running toward him.  The lad halted,
turned and faced them.
"What do you want of me?" he demanded.
"I'll show you what I want of you.  You started this row."
"I did nothing of the sort, sir.  You go on about your business
and I shall do the same, whether you do or not."
Phil raised the canvas and stepped out.  But no sooner had he
gotten out into the lot than the two men burst through the
flapping side wall.
The boy saw them coming and knew that he was face to face
with trouble.
He adopted a ruse, knowing full well that he could not hope
to cope with the brawny canvasmen single handed and alone.
Starting off on a run, Phil was followed instantly, as he felt
sure he would be, but managing to keep just ahead of the men and
"I've got you!"
The voice was almost at his ear.
Phil halted with unexpected suddenness and dropped on all fours.
The canvasman was too close to check his own speed.  He fell over
Phil, landing on his head and shoulders in the dirt.
The lad was up like a flash.  Larry was close upon him now, and
with a snarl of rage launched a blow full at Phil Forrest's face.
But he had not reckoned on the lad's agility, nor did he know
that Phil was a trained athlete.  Therefore, Larry's surprise was
great when his fist beat the empty air.
Thrown off his balance, Larry measured his length on the ground.
"I advise you to let me alone," warned Phil coolly, as the
tentman was scrambling to his feet.  Already Larry's companion
had gotten up and was gazing at Phil in a half dazed sort of way.
"Get hold of him, Bad Eye!  What are you standing there like a
dummy for?  He'll run in a minute."
Phil's better judgment told him to do that very thing, but he
could not bring himself to run from danger.  Much as he disliked
a row, he was too plucky and courageous to run from danger.
Bad Eye was rushing at him, his eyes blazing with anger.
Phil side-stepped easily, avoiding his antagonist without the
least difficulty.  But now he had to reckon with Larry, who,
by this time, had gotten to his feet.
It was two to one.
"Stand back unless you want to get hurt!" cried Phil, with a
warning glint in his eyes.
Larry, by way of answer, struck viciously at him.  Phil, with a
glance about him, saw that he could not expect help, for there
was no one in sight, the performers being engaged at that moment
in driving off the angry laborers, which they were succeeding in
doing with no great effort on their part.
The lad cleverly dodged the blow.  But instead of backing away
as the canvasman's fist barely grazed his cheek, Phil, with a
short arm jolt, caught his adversary on the point of his chin.
Larry instantly lost all desire for fight.  He sat down on the
hard ground with a bump.
Now Bad Eye rushed in.  Again Phil sidestepped, and, thrusting a
foot between the fellow's legs, tripped him neatly.
Half a dozen men came running from the paddock.  They were the
fellows whom the performers had put to rout.  At that moment the
bugle blew for all hands to prepare for the parade.
"I guess I have done about enough for one day," decided Phil.
"And for a sick man it wasn't a half bad job."
With an amused glance at his fallen adversaries Phil ran to the
big top, less than a rod away, and, lifting the sidewall, slipped
under and disappeared within.
CHAPTER VIII
PHIL MAKES A NEW FRIEND
"Tweetle!  Tweetle!"
Two rippling blasts from the ringmaster's whistle notified the
show people that the performance was on.  In moved the procession
for the Grand Entry, as the silken curtains separating the
paddock from the big top slowly fell apart.
Phil, from his lofty perch on the head of old Emperor, peering
through the opening of the bonnet in which he was concealed,
could not repress an exclamation of admiration.  It was a
splendid spectacle--taken from a story of ancient Rome--
that was sweeping majestically about the arena to the music
of an inspiring tune into which the big circus band had
suddenly launched.
Gayly-caparisoned, nervous horses pranced and reared; huge
wagons, gorgeous under their coat of paint and gold, glistened
in the afternoon sunlight that fell softly through the canvas top
and gave the peculiar rattling sound so familiar to the lover of
the circus as they moved majestically into the arena; elephants
trumpeted shrilly and the animals back in the menagerie tent sent
up a deafening roar of protest.  After months of quiet in their
winter quarters, this unusual noise and excitement threw the wild
beasts into a tempest of anger.  Pacing their cages with upraised
heads, they hurled their loud-voiced protests into the air until
the more timid of the spectators trembled in their seats.
It was an inspiring moment for the circus people, as well as for
the spectators.
"Tweetle!  Tweetle!" sang the ringmaster's whistle after the
spectacle had wound its way once around the concourse.
At this the procession wheeled, its head cutting between the
two rings, slowly and majestically reaching for the paddock
and dressing tent, where the performers would hurry into their
costumes for their various acts to follow.
This left only the elephants in the ring.  The huge beasts now
began their evolutions, ponderous but graceful, eliciting great
applause, as did their trainer, Mr. Kennedy.  Then came the
round-off of the act.  This, it will be remembered, was of Phil
Forrest's own invention, the act in which Phil, secreted in the
elephant's bonnet, burst out at the close of the act, and, by the
aid of wires running over a pulley above him, was able to descend
gracefully to the sawdust arena.
He was just a little nervous in this, the first performance of
the season, but, steadying his nerves, he went through the act
without a hitch and amid thunders of applause.  As in the
previous season's act, old Emperor carried the lad from the ring,
holding Phil out in front of him firmly clasped in his trunk.
No similar act ever had been seen in a circus until Phil and
Emperor worked it out for themselves.  It had become one of the
features of the show last year, and it bade fair to be equally
popular that season.  Phil had added to it somewhat, which gave
the act much more finish than before.
"Very good, young man," approved Mr. Sparling, as the elephant
bore the lad out.  Mr. Sparling was watching the show with keen
eyes in order to decide what necessary changes were to be made.
"Coming back to watch the performance?"
"Oh, yes.  I wouldn't miss that for anything."
As soon as the lad had thrown off his costume and gotten back
into his clothes, he hurried into the big top, where he found
Teddy, who did not go on in his bucking mule act until later.
"How's the show, Teddy?" greeted Phil.
"Great.  Greatest thing I ever saw.  Did you see the fellows jump
over the herd of elephants and horses?"
"No.  Who were they?"
"Oh, most all of the crowd, I guess.  I'm going to do that."
"You, Teddy?  Why, you couldn't jump over half a dozen
elephants and turn a somersault.  You would break your neck the
first thing."
"Mr. Miaco says I could.  Says I'm just the build for that sort
of thing," protested the lad.
"Well, then, get him to teach you.  Of course we can't know how
to do too many things in this business.  We have learned that it
pays to know how to do almost everything.  Have you made friends
with the mule since you got back?"
"Yes.  He spooned over me and made believe he loved me like
Teddy paused reflectively.
"Then what?"
"Well, then he tried to kick the daylight out of me."
"I thought so," laughed Phil.  "I'm glad I chose an elephant for
my friend, instead of an educated mule.  When are you going to
begin on the springboard--begin practicing, I mean?"
"Mr. Miaco says he'll teach me as soon as we get settled--"
"Settled?  I never heard of a show getting settled--that is, not
until the season is ended and it is once more in winter quarters.
I suppose by 'settled' he means when everything gets to
moving smoothly."
"I guess so," nodded Teddy.  "What are you going to do?"
"The regular acts that I did last year."
"No; I mean what are you going to learn new?"
"Oh!  Well, there are two things I'm crazy to be able to do."
"What are they?"
"One is to be a fine trapeze performer," announced Phil
thoughtfully.
"And the other?"
"To ride bareback."
"Want to be the whole thing, don't you?" jeered Teddy.
"No; not quite.  But I should like to be able to do those two
things, and to do them well.  There is nothing that catches the
audiences as do the trapezists and the bareback riders.  And it
fascinates me as well."
"Here, too," agreed Teddy.
"But there is one thing I want to talk with you about--to read
you a lecture."
"You needn't."
"I shouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of an inquiry
about the row in the dressing tent.  You know Mr. Sparling won't
stand for anything of that sort."
"He doesn't know about it," interposed Teddy.
"But we do.  Therefore, we are just as much to blame as if he
did know.  And I am not so sure that he doesn't.  You can't fool
Mr. Sparling.  You ought to know that by this time.  There isn't
a thing goes on in this show that he doesn't find out about,
sooner or later, and he is going to find out about this."
"I didn't do anything.  You did, when you had a scrap with those
two fellows out on the lot."
"You forget that you started the row by emptying a pail of water
on Larry's head.  Don't you call that starting doing anything?
Phil had to laugh at the comical expression on his
companion's face.
"Well, maybe."
"And we haven't heard the last of those fellows yet.  They're mad
all through.  I am sorry I had to hit them.  But they would have
used me badly had I not done something to protect myself.
I should tell the whole matter to Mr. Sparling, were it not that
I would get others into trouble.  That I wouldn't do."
"I should think not."
"By the way, Teddy, there come the bareback riders.  Don't you
follow after their act?"
"My!  That's so.  I had forgotten all about that.  Thought I was
watching the show just like the rest of the folks."
"Better hustle, or you won't get into your makeup in time
to go on.  There'll be a row for certain if you are late."
But Teddy already had started on a run for the dressing tent,
bowling over a clown at the entrance to the paddock and bringing
down the wrath of that individual as he hustled for the
dressing tent and began feverishly getting into his ring clothes.
These consisted of a loose fitting pair of trousers, a slouch hat
and a coat much the worse for wear.  A "Rube" act, it was called
in show parlance, and it was that in very truth, more because of
Teddy's drollery than for the makeup that he wore.
Phil quickly forgot all about the lecture he had been reading to
his companion as the bareback riders came trotting in.  His eyes
were fixed on a petite, smiling figure who tripped up to the
curbing, where she turned toward the audience, and, kicking one
foot out behind her, bowed and threw a kiss to the spectators.
Phil had walked over and sat down by the center pole right
near the sawdust ring, so that he might get a better view
of the riding.
The young woman who so attracted his attention was known
on the show bills as "Little Miss Dimples, the Queen of the
Sawdust Arena."  Phil, as he gazed at her graceful little figure,
agreed that the show bills did not exaggerate her charms at all.
Little Dimples, using the ringmaster's hand as a step, vaulted
lightly to the back of the great gray ring horse, where she sat
as the animal began a slow walk about the ring.
Phil wondered how she could stay on, for she appeared to be
sitting right on the animal's sloping hip.
The band struck up a lively tune, the gray horse began a slow,
methodical gallop.  The first rise of the horse bounded Little
Dimples to her knees, and the next to her feet.
With a merry little "yip! yip!" she began executing a fairy-like
dance, keeping time with her whip, which she held grasped in
"Beautiful!" cried Phil, bringing his hands together sharply.
In fact, he had never seen such artistic riding.  The girl seemed
to be treading on air, so lightly did her feet touch the rosined
back of the ring horse.
Little Dimples heard and understood.  She flashed a brilliant
smile at Phil and tossed her whip as a salute.  Phil had never
met her, but they both belonged to the same great family, and
that was sufficient.
His face broke out into a pleased smile at her recognition and
the lad touched his hat lightly, settling back against the
center pole to watch Dimples' riding, which had only just begun.
It made him laugh outright to see her big picture hat bobbing up
and down with the motion of the horse.
"Works just like an elephant's ear when the flies are thick,"
was the lad's somewhat inelegant comparison.
But now Dimples removed the hat, sending it spinning to the
ringmaster, who, in turn, tossed it to an attendant.  The real
work of the act was about to start.  Phil never having seen the
young woman ride, did not know what her particular specialty was.
Just now he was keenly observing, that he might learn
her methods.
Dimples' next act was to jump through a series of paper hoops.
This finished, she leaped to the ring, and, taking a running
start, vaulted to the back of her horse.
"Bravo!" cried Phil, which brought another brilliant smile from
the rider.  She knew that it was not herself, but her work,
that had brought this expression of approval from the Circus Boy,
whom she already knew of by hearing some of the other performers
tell of his achievements since he joined the circus less than a
"The ring is rough.  I should have thought they would have
leveled it down better," Phil grumbled, noting the uneven surface
of the sawdust circle with critical eyes.  "I'll bet Mr. Sparling
hasn't seen that, or he would have raised a row.  But still
Dimples seems very sure on her feet.  I wonder if she does any
brilliant stunts?"
As if in answer to the lad's question, the "tweetle" of the
ringmaster's whistle brought everything to a standstill under the
big top.  Even the band suddenly ceased playing.  Then Phil knew
that something worthwhile was coming.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" announced the ringmaster, holding up
his right hand to attract the eyes of the spectators to him,
"Little Miss Dimples, The Queen of the Sawdust Arena, will now
perform her thrilling, death-defying, unexcelled, unequaled feat
of turning a somersault on the back of a running horse.  I might
add in this connection that Little Miss Dimples is the only woman
who ever succeeded in going through this feat without finishing
up by breaking her neck.  The band will cease playing while this
perilous performance is on, as the least distraction on the part
of the rider might result fatally for her.  Ladies and gentlemen,
I introduce to you Little Miss Dimples," concluded the
ringmaster, with a comprehensive wave of the hand toward the
young woman and her gray ring horse.
Dimples dropped to the ring, swept a courtesy to the audience,
then leaped to the animal's back with a sharp little "yip! yip!"
During the first round of the ring she removed the bridle,
tossing it mischievously in Phil's direction.  He caught it
deftly, placing it on the ground beside him, then edged a little
closer to the ring that he might the better observe her work.
The ring horse started off at a lively gallop, the rider allowing
her elbows to rise and fall with the motion of the horse,
in order that she might the more thoroughly become a part of the
animal itself--that the motion of each should be the same.
Suddenly Dimples sprang nimbly to her feet, tossing her riding
whip to the waiting hands of the ringmaster.
Phil half scrambled to his feet as he saw her poise for a
backward somersault.  He had noted another thing, too.  She was
going to throw herself, it seemed, just as the horse was on the
roughest part of the ring.  He wondered if she could make it.
To him it was a risky thing to try, but she no doubt knew better
than he what she was about.
The ringmaster held up his hand as a signal to the audience that
the daring act was about to take place.
Phil crept a little nearer.
All at once the girl gracefully threw herself into the air.
He judged she had cleared the back of the animal by at least
three feet, a high jump to make straight up with unbent knees.
But just as she was leaving the back of the horse, the animal
suddenly stumbled, thus turning her halfway around, and for the
instant taking her mind from her work.  Dimples already had
begun to turn backward, but he noted that all at once she
stopped turning.
Phil knew what that meant.  As show people term it, she had
"frozen" in the air.  She was falling, head first, right toward
the wooden ring curbing.
"Turn!  Turn!" cried Phil sharply.
The girl was powerless to do so, while the ringmaster, being on
the opposite side of the ring, could be of no assistance to her.
"Turn!" shouted Phil, more loudly this time, giving a mighty
spring in the direction of the falling woman.
THE MULE DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF
The audience had half risen, believing that the girl would surely
be killed.  It did seem that it would be a miracle if she escaped
without serious injury.
But the Circus Boy, his every faculty centered on the task before
him, proposed to save her if he could.
He sprang up on the ring curbing, stretching both hands above his
head as far as he could reach, bracing himself with legs wide
apart to meet the shock.
It is not an easy task to attempt to catch a person, especially
if that person be falling toward you head first.  But Phil
Forrest calculated in a flash how he would do it.  That is,
he would unless he missed.
It all happened in much less time than it takes to tell it,
of course, and a moment afterwards one could not have told how it
had occurred.
The Circus Boy threw both hands under Dimples' outstretched
arms with the intention of jerking her down to her feet,
then springing from the curbing with her before both should
topple over.
His plan worked well up to the point of catching her.
But instantly upon doing so he realized that she was moving
with such speed as to make it impossible for him to retain
his balance.
Dimples was hurled into his arms with great force, bowling Phil
over like a ninepin.  Yet, in falling, he did not lose his
presence of mind.  He hoped fervently that he might be fortunate
enough not to strike on a stake, of which there were many on that
side of the ring.
"Save yourself!" gasped the girl.
Instead, Phil held her up above him at arm's length.  When he
struck it was full on his back, the back of his head coming in
contact with the hard ground with such force as to stun him
almost to the point of unconsciousness.  As he struck he gave
Dimples a little throw so that she cleared his body, landing on
the ground beyond him.
The girl stretched forth her hands and did a handspring, once
more thorough master of herself, landing gracefully on her feet.
But Phil had undoubtedly saved her life, as she well knew.
Without giving the slightest heed to the audience, which was
howling its delight, Dimples ran to the fallen lad, leaning over
him anxiously.
"Are you hurt?" she begged, placing a hand on his head.
"I--I guess not," answered Phil, pulling himself together
a little.  "I'll get up or they'll think something is the matter
"Let me help you."
"No, thank you," he replied, brushing aside the hand she had
extended to him.  But his back hurt him so severely that he could
only with difficulty stand upright.
Phil smiled and straightened, despite the pain.
At that Dimples grasped him by the hand, leading him to the
concourse facing the reserved seats, where she made a low bow to
the audience; then, throwing both arms about Phil, she gave him a
hearty kiss.
Thunders of applause greeted this, the audience getting to its
feet in its excitement.  Had it been possible, both the boy and
Miss Dimples would have been borne in triumph from the ring.
"Come back and sit down while I finish my act," she whispered.
"You're not going to try that again, are you?" questioned Phil.
"Of course I am.  You'll see what a hit it will make."
"I saw that you came near making a hit a few moments ago,"
answered the lad.
"There, there; don't be sarcastic," she chided, giving him a
playful tap.  "If you feel strong enough, please help me up."
Phil did so smilingly; then he retired to his place by the center
pole, against which he braced his aching back.
"Turn after you have gotten over the rough spot," he
cautioned her.
Dimples nodded her understanding.
This time Phil held his breath as he saw her crouching ever so
little for her spring.
Dimples uttered another shrill "yip!" and threw herself into the
He saw, with keen satisfaction, that this time she was not
going to miss.  Dimples turned in the air with wonderful grace,
alighting far back on the broad hips of the gray horse with
bird-like lightness.
Phil doffed his hat, and, getting to his feet, limped away,
with the audience roaring out its applause.  They had forgotten
all about the boy who but a few moments before had saved Little
Dimples' life, and he was fully as well satisfied that it should
Just as he was passing the bandstand the educated mule,
with Teddy Tucker on its back, bolted through the curtains
like a projectile.  The mule nearly ran over Phil, then brought
up suddenly to launch both heels at him.  But the Circus Boy had
seen this same mule in action before, and this time Phil had
discreetly ducked under the bandstand.
Then the mule was off.
"Hi-yi-yi-yip-yi!" howled Teddy, as the outfit bolted into
the arena.  The old hands with the show discreetly darted for
cover when they saw Teddy and his mule coming.  Like Phil
they had had experience with this same wild outfit before.
There was no knowing what the bucking mule might not do,
while there was a reasonable certainty in their minds as
to what he would do if given half a chance.
"Hi!  Hi!  Look out!" howled Teddy as they neared the entrance
to the menagerie tent, where a number of people were standing.
The boy saw that the mule had taken it into his stubborn head
to enter the menagerie tent, there to give an exhibition of
his contrariness.
In they swept like a miniature whirlwind, the mule twisting this
way and that, stopping suddenly now and then and bracing its feet
in desperate efforts to unseat its rider.
But Teddy held on grimly.  This rough riding was the delight of
his heart, and the lad really was a splendid horseman, though it
is doubtful if he realized this fact himself.
A man was crossing the menagerie tent with a pail of water in
each hand.  The mule saw him.  Here was an opportunity not to
Teddy's mount swept past the fellow.  Then both the beast's heels
shot out, catching both the pails at the same time.  The two
pails took the air in a beautiful curve, like a pair of rockets,
distributing water all the way across the tent, a liberal portion
of which was spilled over the water carrier as the pails left
The man chanced to be Larry, Teddy's enemy.  Teddy was traveling
at such a rapid rate that he did not recognize the fellow,
but Larry recognized him, and thereby another account was charged
up against the Circus Boy.
But the mule, though the time limit for his act had expired,
had not quite satisfied his longing for excitement.
Whirling about, he plunged toward the big top again.
"Whoa!  Whoa!" howled Teddy, tugging at the reins.  But he might
as well have tried to check the wind.  Nothing short of a stone
wall could stop the educated mule until he was ready to stop.
The ringmaster had blown his whistle for the next act and the
performers were running to their stations when Teddy and his
mount suddenly made their appearance again.
"Get out of here!" yelled the ringmaster.
"I am trying to do so," howled Teddy in a jeering voice.
"Can't go any faster than I am."
"Stop him!  You'll run somebody down!" shouted Mr. Sparling,
dodging out of the way as the mule, with ears laid back on his
head, dashed straight at the showman.
"Can't stop.  In a hurry," answered Teddy.
On they plunged past the bandstand again, the mule pausing
at the paddock entrance long enough to kick the silk curtains
into ribbons.  Next he made a dive for the dressing tent.
In less time than it takes to tell it, the dressing tent looked
as if it had been struck by a cyclone.
Clubs and side poles were brought down on the rump of the wild
most of which were promptly kicked through the side of the tent.
Teddy, in the meantime, had landed in a performer's trunk,
through the tray, being wedged in so tightly that he could not
extricate himself.  Added to the din was Teddy's voice howling
The performers, in all stages of dress and undress, had fled to
the outside.
Then, the mule becoming suddenly meek, pricked forward his ears,
ambled out into the paddock and began contentedly nibbling at the
fresh grass about the edges of the enclosure.
About this time Mr. Sparling came running in.  His face was red
and the perspiration was rolling down it.
"Where's that fool boy?" he bellowed.  "Where is he, I say?"
"Here he is," answered the plaintive voice of Teddy Tucker.
"Come out of that!"
"I can't.  I'm stuck fast."
The showman jerked him out with scant ceremony, while Teddy began
pulling pieces of the trunk tray out of his clothes.
"Do you want to put my show out of business?  What do you think
this is--a cowboy picnic?  I'll fire you.  I'll--"
"Better fire the mule.  I couldn't stop him," answered the boy.
By this time the performers, after making sure that the mule had
gone, were creeping back.
"I'll cut that act out.  I'll have the mule shot.  I'll--
Get out of here, before I take you over my knee and give you
what you deserve."
"I'm off," grinned Teddy, ducking under the canvas.
He was seen no more about the dressing tent until just before it
was time to go on for the evening performance.
HIS FIRST BAREBACK LESSON
"Where's that boy?"
"He'll catch it if he ever dares show his face in this dressing
tent again."
This and other expressions marked the disapproval of the
performers of the manner in which their enclosure had been
entered and disrupted.
"Don't blame him; blame the mule," advised Mr. Miaco, the
"Yes; Teddy wasn't to blame," declared Phil, who had entered at
that moment.  "Did he do all this?" he asked, looking about at
the scene of disorder.
"He did.  Lucky some of us weren't killed," declared one.
"If that mule isn't cut out of the programme I'll quit
this outfit.  Never safe a minute while he and the kid
are around.  First, the kid gets us into a scrimmage with the
roustabouts, then he slam bangs into the dressing tent with a
fool mule and puts the whole business out of the running."
"Was Mr. Sparling--was he mad?" asked Phil, laughing until the
tears started.
"Mad?  He was red headed," replied Miaco.
"Where's Teddy?"
"He got stuck in the strong man's trunk there.  The boss had to
pull him out, for he was wedged fast.  Then the young man
prudently made his escape.  If the boss hadn't skinned him we
would have done so.  He got out just in time."
"Are you Phil Forrest?" asked a uniformed attendant entering the
dressing tent.
"Yes; what is it?"
"Lady wants to see you out in the paddock."
"Who is it?"
"Mrs. Robinson."
"I don't know any Mrs. Robinson."
"He means Little Dimples," Mr. Miaco informed him.
Phil hurried from the tent.  Dimples was sitting on a property
industriously engaged on a piece of embroidery work.  She made a
pretty picture perched up on the box engaged in her peaceful
occupation with the needle, and the lad stopped to gaze at
her admiringly.
Dimples glanced down with a smile.
"Does it surprise you to see me at my fancy work?  That's what
I love.  Why, last season, I embroidered a new shirt waist every
week during the show season.  I don't know what I'll do with
them all.  But come over here and sit down by me.  I ought to
thank you for saving my life this afternoon, but I know you would
rather I did not."
Phil nodded.
"I don't like to be thanked.  It makes me feel--well, awkward,
I guess.  You froze, didn't you?"
"I did," and Dimples laughed merrily.
"What made you do so--the horse?"
"Yes.  I thought he was going to fall all the way down,
then by the time I remembered where I was I couldn't turn to save
my life.  I heard you call to me to do so, but I couldn't.
But let's talk about you.  You hurt your back, didn't you?"
"Nothing to speak of.  It will be all right by morning.  I'm just
a little lame now.  Where were you--what show were you with
"The Ringlings."
"The Ringlings?" marveled Phil.  "Why, I shouldn't think you
would want to leave a big show like that for a little one such
"It's the price, my dear boy.  I get more money here, and I'm
a star here.  In the big shows one is just a little part of a
big organization.  There's nothing like the small shows for
comfort and good fellowship.  Don't you think so?"
"I don't know," admitted Phil.  "This is the only show I have
ever been with.  I 'joined out' last season--"
"Only last season?  Well, well!  I must say you have made pretty
rapid progress for one who has been out less than a year."
"I have made a lot of blunders," laughed Phil.  "But I'm
I wish, though, that I could do a bareback act one quarter as
as you do.  I should be very proud if I could."
"Have you ever tried it?"
"Why don't you learn, then?  You'd pick it up quickly."
"For the reason that I have never had an opportunity--I've had no
one to teach me."
"Then you shall do so now.  Your teacher is before you."
"You--you mean that you will teach me?"
"Of course.  What did you think I meant?"
"I--I wasn't sure.  That will be splendid."
"I saw your elephant act.  You are a very finished performer--
a natural born showman.  If you stay in the business long enough
you will make a great reputation for yourself."
"I don't want to be a performer all my life.  I am going to own
a show some of these days," announced the boy confidently.
"Oh, you are, are you?" laughed Dimples.  "Well, if you say so,
I most surely believe you.  You have the right sort of pluck
to get anything you set your heart on.  Now if my boy only--"
"Yes.  Didn't you know that I am a married woman?"
"Oh my, I thought you were a young girl," exclaimed Phil.
"Thank you; that was a very pretty compliment.  But, alas, I am
no longer young.  I have a son almost as old as you are.  He is
with his father, performing at the Crystal Palace in London.
I expect to join them over there after my season closes here."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes, and as my own boy is so far away I shall have to be a sort
of mother to you this season.  You have no mother, have you?"
"No.  My mother is dead," answered the lad in a low voice,
lowering his eyes.
"I thought as much.  Mothers don't like to have their boys join
a circus; but, if they knew what a strict, wholesome life a
circus performer has to lead, they would not be so set against
the circus.  Don't you think, taking it all in all, that we are
a pretty good sort?" smiled Dimples.
"I wish everyone were as good as circus folks," the boy made
answer so earnestly as to bring a pleased smile to the face of
his companion.
"You shall have a lesson today for that, if you wish."
"Then run along and get on your togs.  As soon as the performance
is over we will get out my ring horse and put in an hour's work."
"Thank you, thank you!" glowed Phil as Mrs. Robinson rolled up
her work.  "I'll be out in a few moments."
Full of pleasurable anticipation, Phil ran to the dressing
tent and began rummaging in his trunk for his working tights.
These he quickly donned and hurried back to the paddock.
There he found Dimples with her ring horse, petting the
broad-backed beast while he nibbled at the grass.
"Waiting, you see?" she smiled up at Forrest.
"Yes.  But the performance isn't finished yet, is it?"
"No.  The hippodrome races are just going on.  Come over to this
side of the paddock, where we shall be out of the way, and I'll
teach you a few first principles."
"What do you want me to do first?"
"Put your foot in my hand and I will give you a lift."
The lad did as directed and sprang lightly to the back of
"Move over on the horse's hip.  There.  Sit over just as
far as you can without slipping off.  You saw how I did it
this afternoon?"
"Yes--oh, here I go!"
Phil slid from the sloping side of the ring horse, landing in a
heap, to the accompaniment of a rippling laugh from Dimples.
"I guess I'm not much of a bareback rider," grinned the lad,
picking himself up.  "How do you manage to stay on it in
that position?"
"I don't know.  It is just practice.  You will catch the trick of
it very soon."
"I'm not so sure of that."
"There!  Now, take hold of the rein and stand up.
Don't be afraid--"
"I'm not.  Don't worry about my being afraid."
"I didn't mean it that way.  Move back further.  It is not good
to stand in the middle of your horse's back all the time.
Besides throwing too much weight on the back, you are liable to
tickle the animal there and make him nervous.  The best work is
done by standing over the horse's hip.  That's it.  Tread on the
balls of your feet."
But Phil suddenly went sprawling, landing on the ground again,
at which both laughed merrily.
Very shortly after that the show in the big top came to a close.
The concert was now going on, at the end nearest the menagerie
so Phil and Dimples took the ring at the other end of the tent,
where they resumed their practice.
After a short time Phil found himself able to stand erect with
more confidence.  Now, his instructor, with a snap of her little
whip, started the gray to walking slowly about the ring, Phil
holding tightly to the bridle rein to steady himself.
"Begin moving about now.  Tread softly and lightly.  That's it.
You've caught it already."
"Why not put a pad on the horse's back, as I've seen some
performers do?" he questioned.
"No.  I don't want you to begin that way.  Start without a pad,
and you never will have to unlearn what you get.  That's my
I'm going to set him at a gallop now.  Stand straight and lean
The ring horse moved off at a slow, methodical gallop.
Phil promptly fell off, landing outside the ring, from where he
picked himself up rather crestfallen.
"Never mind.  You'll learn.  You are doing splendidly,"
encouraged Dimples, assisting him to mount again.  "There's the
press agent, Mr. Dexter, watching you.  Now do your prettiest.
Do you know him?"
"No; I have not met him.  He's the fellow that Teddy says blows
up his words with a bicycle pump."
"That's fine.  I shall have to tell him that.  Remember, you
always want to keep good friends with the press agent.  He's the
man who makes or unmakes you after you have passed the eagle eyes
of the proprietor," Dimples laughed.  "From what I hear I guess
you stand pretty high with Mr. Sparling."
"I try to do what is right--do the best I know how."
She nodded, clucking to the gray and Phil stopped talking at
once, for he was fully occupied in sticking to the horse,
over whose back he sprawled every now and then in the most
ridiculous of positions.  But, before the afternoon's practice
had ended, the lad had made distinct progress.  He found himself
able to stand erect, by the aid of the bridle rein, and to keep
his position fairly well while the animal took a slow gallop.
He had not yet quite gotten over the dizziness caused by the
constant traveling about in a circle in the narrow ring,
but Dimples assured him that, after a few more turns, this would
wear off entirely.
After finishing the practice, Dimples led her horse back
to the horse tent, promising Phil that they should meet the
next afternoon.
Phil had no more than changed to his street clothes before he
received a summons to go to Mr. Sparling in his private tent.
"I wonder what's wrong now?" muttered the lad.  "But, I think
I know.  It's about that row we had this morning out on the lot.
I shouldn't be surprised if I got fined for that."
With a certain nervousness, Phil hurried out around the
dressing tent, and skirting the two big tents, sought out
Mr. Sparling in his office.
SUMMONED BEFORE THE MANAGER
The lad was not far wrong in his surmise.  That Mr. Sparling was
angry was apparent at the first glance.
He eyed Phil from head to foot, a fierce scowl wrinkling his face
and forehead.
"Well, sir, what have you been up to this afternoon?"
"Practicing in the ring since the afternoon performance closed."
"H-m-m-m!  And this forenoon?"
"Not much of anything in the way of work."
"Have any trouble with any of the men?"
"A man by the name of Larry, and another whom they call Bad Eye."
"Humph!  I suppose you know it's a bad breach of discipline in a
show to have any mixups, don't you?"
"I do.  I make no apologies, except that I was acting wholly in
self defense.  All the same, I do not expect any favoritism.
I am willing to take my punishment, whatever it may be," replied
the lad steadily.
There was the merest suspicion of a twinkle in the eyes of
the showman.
"Tell me what you did."
"I punched Larry, tripped his friend, and--well, I don't
exactly know all that did happen," answered Phil without a change
of expression.
"Knock them down?"
"I--I guess so."
"H-m-m.  I suppose you know both those fellows are pretty bad
medicine, don't you?"
"I may have heard something of the sort."
"Larry has quite a reputation as a fighter."
"And you knocked him out?"
"Something like that," answered Phil meekly.
"Show me how you did it?" demanded Mr. Sparling, rising and
standing before the culprit.
"It was like this, you see," began Phil, exhibiting a sudden
interest in the inquiry.  "I was chased by the two men.
Suddenly I stopped and let the fellow, Larry, fall over me.
During the scrimmage I tripped Bad Eye.  I didn't hit anyone
until Larry crowded me so I had to do so in order to save myself,
or else run away."
"Why didn't you run, young man?"
"I--I didn't like to do that, you know."
Mr. Sparling nodded his head.
"How did you hit him?"
"He made a pass at me like this," and the lad lifted
Mr. Sparling's hand over his shoulder.  "I came up under his
guard with a short arm jolt like this."
"Well, what next?"
"That was about all there was to it.  The others came out,
about that time, and I ducked in under the big top."
To Phil's surprise Mr. Sparling broke out into a roar
of laughter.  In a moment he grew sober and stern again.
"Be good enough to tell me what led up to this assault.
What happened before that brought on the row?  I can depend
upon you to give me the facts.  I can't say as much for all
the others."
Phil did as the showman requested, beginning with the ducking of
Teddy by the men when the show was leaving Germantown, and ending
with Teddy's having emptied a pail of muddy water over Larry's
red head that morning.
He had only just finished his narration of the difficulty,
when who should appear at the entrance to the office tent but
Larry himself.  He was followed, a few paces behind, by Bad Eye.
Mr. Sparling's stern, judicial eyes were fixed upon them.
He demanded to hear from them their version of the affair,
which Larry related, leaving out all mention of his having
ducked Teddy.  His story agreed in the main details with what
Phil already had said, excepting that Larry's recital threw the
blame on Teddy and Phil.
Mr. Sparling took a book from his desk, making a
memorandum therein.
"Is that all, sir?" questioned Larry.
"Not quite.  If I hear of any further infraction of the rules of
this show on the part of either of you two, you close right then.
Understand?"
"That's not all; I'll have you both jailed for assault.  As it
is, I'll fine you both a week's pay.  Now get out of here!"
Larry hesitated, flashed a malignant glance at Phil Forrest;
then, turning on his heel, he left the tent.
"Don't you think you had better fine me, too, sir?" asked Phil.
"Because I shall have to do it again some of these days."
"What do you mean?"
"That fellow is going to be even with me at the very
first opportunity."
Mr. Sparling eyed the lad for a moment.
"I guess you will be able to give a good account of yourself
if he tries to do anything of the sort.  Let me say right here,
though you need not tell your friend so that I think Teddy
did just right, and I am glad you gave Larry a good drubbing.
But, of course, we can't encourage this sort of thing with
the show.  It has to be put down with an iron hand."
"I understand, sir."
"Mind, I don't expect you to be a coward."
"I hope not.  My father used to teach me not to be.
He frequently said, 'Phil, keep out of trouble, but if you
get into it, don't sneak out.' "
"That's the talk," roared Mr. Sparling, smiting his desk with
a mighty fist.  "You run along, now, and give your young friend
some advice about what he may expect if he gets into any
more difficulty."
"I have done that already."
"Good!  Tell it to him again as coming from me.  He's going to
make a good showman, though he came near putting this outfit out
of business with the fool mule this afternoon.  I would cut the
act out, but for the fact that it is a scream from start
to finish.  Feeling all right?"
"Yes, thank you.  I am perfectly able to go on in the ring act
tonight, if you think best."
"Wait until tomorrow; wait until tomorrow.  You'll be all the
better for it."
The cook tent was open, as Phil observed.  The red flag was
flying from the center pole of the tent, indicating that supper
was being served.  In a short time the tent would come down and
be on its way in the flying squadron to the next stand.
The show was now less than a day out, but many things
had happened.  Not a moment had been without its interest or
excitement, and Phil realized that as he walked toward the
cook tent.  He found Teddy there, satisfying his appetite, or
rather exerting himself in that direction, for Teddy's appetite
was a thing never wholly satisfied.
After supper Phil took the boy aside and delivered
Mr. Sparling's message.  Teddy looked properly serious,
but it is doubtful if the warning sank very deep into his mind,
for the next minute he was turning handsprings on the lot.
"Know what I'm going to do, Phil?" he glowed.
"There's no telling what you will do, from one minute to the
next, Teddy," replied Phil.
"Going to practice up and see if I can't get in the leaping act."
"That's a good idea.  When do you begin taking lessons?"
"Taking 'em now."
"From Mr. Miaco?"
"Yes.  I did a turn off the springboard this afternoon with the
'mechanic on,' " meaning the harness used to instruct beginners
in the art of tumbling.
"How did you make out?"
"Fine!  I'd have broken my neck if it hadn't been for
the harness."
Phil laughed heartily.
"I should say you did do finely.  But you don't expect to be able
to jump over ten elephants and horses the way the others do?"
"They don't all do it.  Some of 'em leap until they get half a
dozen elephants in line, then they stand off and watch the real
artists finish the act.  I can do that part of it now.  But I
tell you I'm going to be a leaper, Phil."
"Good for you!  That's the way to talk.  Keep out of trouble,
work hard, don't talk too much, and you'll beat me yet,"
declared Phil.  "And say!"
"Be careful with that mule act tonight.  You know Mr. Sparling
will be in there watching you.  It wouldn't take much more
trouble to cause him to cut that act out of the programme,
and then you might not be drawing so much salary.  Fifty dollars
a week is pretty nice for each of us.  If we don't get swelled
heads, but behave ourselves, we'll have a nice little pile of
money by the time the season closes."
"Yes," agreed Teddy.  "I guess that's so; but we'll be losing a
lot of fun."
"I don't agree with you," laughed Phil.
The lads strolled into the menagerie tent on their way through to
the dressing tent.  The gasoline men were busy lighting their
lamps and hauling them on center and quarter pole, while the
menagerie attendants were turning the tongues of the cages about
so that the horses could be hitched on promptly after the show in
the big top began.
Some of the animals were munching hay, others of the caged beasts
were lying with their noses poked through between the bars of
their cages, blinking drowsily.
"I'd hate to be him," announced Teddy with a comprehensive wave
of the hand as they passed the giraffe, which stood silent in his
roped enclosure, his head far up in the shadows.
"For two reasons.  Keeper tells me he can't make a sound.
Doesn't bray, nor whinny, nor growl, nor bark, nor--
can't do anything.  I'd rather be a lion or a tiger or
something like that.  If I couldn't do anything else, then,
I could stand off and growl at folks."
Phil nodded and smiled.
"And what's your other reason for being glad you are not
"Because--because--because when you had a sore throat think what
a lot of neck you'd have to gargle!"
Phil laughed outright, and as the giraffe lowered its head and
peered down into their faces, he thought, for the moment, that he
could see the animal grin.
After this they continued on to the dressing tent, where they
remained until time for the evening performance.  This passed off
without incident, Teddy and his mule doing nothing more
sensational than kicking a rent in the ringmaster's coat.
After the show was over, and the tents had begun to come down,
Phil announced his intention of going downtown for a lunch.
"This fresh air makes me hungry.  You see, I am not used to it
yet," he explained in an apologetic tone.
"You do not have to go down for a lunch, unless you want to,"
the bandmaster informed him.
"Why, is there a lunch place on the grounds?"
"No.  We have an accommodation car on our section."
"What kind of car is that?"
"Lunch car.  You can't get a heavy meal there, but you will
find a nice satisfying lunch.  The boss has it served at cost.
He doesn't make any money out of the deal.  You'll find it on
our section."
"Good!  Come along Teddy."
"Will I?  That's where I'll spend my money," nodded Teddy,
starting away at a jog trot.
"And your nights too, if they would let you," laughed Phil,
following his companion at a more leisurely gait.
As they crossed the lot they passed "Red" Larry, as he had now
been nicknamed by the showmen.  Larry pretended not to see the
boys, but there was an ugly scowl on his face that told Phil he
did, and after the lads had gone on a piece Phil turned, casting
a careless look back where the torches were flaring and men
working and shouting.
"Red" Larry was not working now.  He was facing the boys, shaking
a clenched fist at them.
"I am afraid we haven't heard the last of our friend, Larry,"
"Who's afraid?" growled Teddy.
"Neither of us.  But all the same we had better keep an eye on
him while we are in his vicinity.  We don't want to get into any
more trouble--at least not, if we can possibly avoid it."
"Not till Mr. Sparling forgets about today?  Is that it?"
"I guess it is," grinned Phil.
"He might take it seriously?"
"He already has done that.  So be careful."
Teddy nodded.  But the lads had not yet heard the last of
"Red" Larry.
THE HUMAN FOOTBALL
"Ever try clowning, young man?" asked the Iron-Jawed Man.
Teddy Tucker shook his head.
"Why don't you?"
"Nobody ever asked me."
"Then you had better ask the boss to let you try it.  Tell him
you want to be a clown and that we will take you in and put you
through your paces until you are able to go it alone."
The show had been on the road for nearly two weeks now, and every
department was working like a piece of well-oiled machinery.
The usual number of minor disasters had befallen the outfit
during the first week, but now everything was system and method.
The animals had become used to the constant moving, and to the
crowds and the noise, so that their growls of complaint were few.
In that time Teddy and Phil had been going through their act on
the flying rings daily, having shown great improvement since they
closed with the show the previous fall.  Their winter's work had
proved of great benefit, and Mr. Sparling had complimented them
several times lately.
Teddy was now devoting all his spare time to learning to
somersault and do the leaping act from the springboard.
He could, by this time, turn a somersault from the board,
though his landing was less certain.  Any part of his anatomy
was liable to sustain the impact of his fall, but he fell in so
many ludicrous positions that the other performers let it go at
that, for it furnished them much amusement.
However, Teddy's unpopularity in the dressing tent had been
apparent ever since he and the educated mule had made their
sensational entry into that sacred domain, practically wrecking
the place.  Teddy and his pet had come near doing the same thing
twice since, and the performers were beginning to believe there
was method in Tucker's madness.
It had come to the point where the performers refused to remain
in the dressing tent while Teddy and the mule were abroad,
unless men with pike poles were stationed outside to ward off
the educated mule when he came in from the ring.  But Teddy
didn't care.  The lad was interested in the suggestion of the
Iron-Jawed Man.  Had he known that the suggestion had been made
after secret conference of certain of the performers, Tucker
might have felt differently about it.  There was something in the
air, but the Circus Boy did not know it.
"What kind of clown act would you advise me to get up?" he asked.
"Oh, you don't have to get it up.  We'll do that for you.
In fact, there is one act that most all clowns start with, and
it will do as well as anything else for you.  You see, you have
to get used to being funny, or you'll forget yourself, and then
you're of no further use as a clown."
"Yes, I know; but what is the act?"
"What do you say, fellows--don't you think the human football
would fit him from the sawdust up?"
"Just the thing," answered the performers thus appealed to.
Mr. Miaco, the head clown, was bending over his trunk, his sides
shaking with laughter, but Teddy did not happen to observe him,
nor had he noticed that the head clown had had no part in
the conversation.
"The human football?" questioned Teddy dubiously.
"What's that?"
"Oh, you dress up in funny makeup so you look like a huge ball."
"But what do I do after I have become a football?"
"Oh, you roll around in the arena, falling all over yourself and
everybody who happens to get in your way; you bounce up and down
and make all sorts of funny--"
"Oh, I know," cried Teddy enthusiastically.  "I saw a fellow do
that in a show once.  He would fall on the ground on his back,
then bounce up into the air several feet."
"You've hit it," replied a clown dryly.
"I remember how all the people laughed and shouted.  I'll bet I'd
make a hit doing that."
"You would!" shouted the performers in chorus.
The show was playing in Batavia, New York, on a rainy night,
with rather a small house expected, so no better time could have
been chosen for Teddy's first appearance as a clown.
"Had I better speak to Mr. Sparling about it?"
"Well, what do you think, fellows?"
"Oh, no, no!  The old man won't care.  If you make them laugh,
he'll be tickled half to death."
"What do you say?  Is it a go, Tucker?"
"Well, I'll think about it."
Teddy strolled out in the paddock, where he walked up and down a
few times in the rain.  But the more he thought about the
proposition, the more enthusiastic he grew.  He could see himself
the center of attraction, and he could almost hear the howls of
delight of the multitude.
"They'll be surprised.  But I don't believe I had better go on
without first speaking to Mr. Sparling.  He might discharge me.
He's had his eye on me ever since the mule tore up the
dressing tent.  But I won't tell Phil.  I'll just give him
a surprise.  How he'll laugh when he sees me and finds out
Thus deciding, the lad ran through the tents out to the front
door, where he asked for Mr. Sparling, knowing that by this time
the owner's tent had been taken down and packed for shipment,
even if it were not already under way on the flying squadron.
He learned that Mr. Sparling was somewhere in the menagerie tent.
Hurrying back there, Teddy soon came upon the object of
his search.  At that moment he was standing in front of the cage
of Wallace, the biggest lion in captivity, gazing at that shaggy
beast thoughtfully.
"Mr. Sparling," called Teddy.
The showman turned, shooting a sharp glance at the flushed face
of the Circus Boy.
"Well, what's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, sir."
"Come to kick about feed in the cook tent?"
"Oh, no, no, sir!  Nothing like that.  I've come to ask a favor
"Humph!  I thought as much.  Well, what is it?"
"I--I think I'd like to be a clown, sir."
"A clown?" asked the showman, with elevated eyebrows.
Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.
"Why, you're that already.  You are a clown, though you may not
know it.  You've been a clown ever since you wore long dresses,
I'll wager."
"But I want to be a real one," urged Teddy.
"What kind of clown?"
"I thought I'd like to be a human football."  This time
Mr. Sparling glanced at the boy in genuine surprise.
"A human football?"
"What put that idea into your head?"
"Some of the fellows suggested it."
"Ah!  I thought so," twinkled Mr. Sparling.  "Who, may I ask?"
"Well, I guess most all of them did."
"I know, but who suggested it first?"
"I think the Iron-Jawed Man was the first to say that I ought to
be a clown.  He thought I would make a great hit."
"No doubt, no doubt," snapped the showman in a tone that led
Teddy to believe he was angry about something.
Mr. Sparling reflected a moment, raised his eyes and gazed at the
dripping roof of the menagerie tent.
"When is this first appearance to be made, if I may ask?"
"Oh, tonight.  The fellows said it would be a good time, as there
would not be a very big house."
"Oh, they did, eh?  Well, go ahead.  But remember you do it at
your own risk."
"Thank you."
Teddy was off for the dressing room on a run.
"I'm It," he cried, bursting in upon them.
"Get the suit," commanded a voice.  "He's It."
Somebody hurried to the property room, returning with a full
rubber suit, helmet and all.  As yet it was merely a bundle.
They bade Teddy get into it, all hands crowding about him,
offering suggestions and lending their assistance.
"My, I didn't know I was so popular here," thought the lad,
pleased with these unusual attentions.  "They must think I'm the
real thing.  I'll show them I am, too."
"Get the pump," directed the Iron-Jawed Man.
A bicycle pump was quickly produced, and, opening a valve, one of
the performers began pumping air into the suit.
"Here, what are you doing?" demanded Teddy.
"Blowing you up--"
"Here, I don't want to be blown up."
"With a bicycle pump," added the performer, grinning through the
powder and grease paint on his face.
"Say, you ought to use that on the press agent!"
The performers howled at this sally.
Teddy began to swell out of all proportion to his natural size,
as the bicycle pump inflated his costume.  In a few moments
he had grown so large that he could not see his own feet,
while the hood about his head left only a small portion of his
face visible.
"Monster!" hissed a clown, shaking a fist in Teddy's face.
"I guess I am.  I'd make a hit as the Fattest Boy on Earth in
this rig, wouldn't I?  I'll bet the Living Skeleton will be
jealous when he sees me."
"There, I guess he's pumped up," announced the operator of the
bicycle pump.
"Try it and see," suggested a voice.
"All right."
Teddy got a resounding blow that flattened him on the ground.
But before he could raise his voice in protest he had bounded to
his feet, and someone caught him, preventing his going right on
over the other way.
The performers howled with delight.
"He'll do.  He'll do," they shouted.
"Don't you do that again," warned the boy, a little dazed.
The time was at hand for the clowns to make their own
grand entry.
"Come on, that's our cue!" shouted one, as the band struck up a
"I--I can't run.  I'm too fat."
"We'll help you."
And they did.  With a clown on either side of him, Teddy was
rushed through the silk curtains and out past the bandstand, his
feet scarcely touching the ground.  Part of the time the clowns
were half dragging him, and at other times carrying him.
At first the audience did not catch the significance of it.
Straight for ring No. 1 Tucker's associates rushed him.
But just as they reached the ring they let go of him.
Of course Teddy fell over the wooden ring curbing, and went
rolling and bouncing into the center of the sawdust arena.
Phil had made his change in the menagerie tent after finishing
his elephant act, and was just entering the big top as Teddy
made his sensational entrance.  He caught sight of his companion
"Who's that?" he asked of Mr. Sparling, who was standing at the
entrance with a broad grin on his face.
"That, my dear Phil, is your very good friend, Mr. Teddy Tucker."
"Teddy?  You don't mean it?"
"Yes; he has decided to be a clown, and I guess he is on the way.
The people are kicking on the seats and howling."
"I should judge, from appearances, that the other clowns
were getting even more entertainment out of his act than
is the audience."
"It certainly looks that way.  But let them go.  It will do
Master Teddy a whole lot of good."
A clown jumped to the ring curbing and made a speech about the
wonderful human football, announcing at the same time that the
championship game was about to be played.
Then they began to play in earnest.  Some had slapsticks,
others light barrel staves, and with these they began to belabor
the human football, each blow being so loud that it could be
heard all over the tent.  Of course the blows did not hurt
Teddy at all, but the bouncing and buffeting that he got aroused
One clown would pick the lad up and throw him to a companion,
who, in turn, would drop him.  Then the audience would yell
with delight as the ball bounced to an upright position again.
This the clowns kept up until Teddy did not know whether he were
standing on his feet or his head.  The perspiration was rolling
down his face, getting into his eyes and blinding him.
"Quit it!" he howled.
"Maybe you'll ride the educated mule through the dressing
tent again?" jeered a clown.
"Bring the mule out and let him knock the wind out of the
rubber man!" suggested another.
"How do you like being a clown?"
This and other taunts were shouted at the rubber man, Teddy
meanwhile expressing himself with unusual vehemence.
Mr. Sparling had in the meantime sent a message back to
the paddock.  He was holding his sides with laughter, while
Phil himself was leaning against a quarter pole shouting
with merriment.
Suddenly there came the sound of a clanging gong, interspersed
with shouts from the far end of the tent.
The spectators quickly glanced in that direction, and they saw
coming at a rapid rate the little patrol wagon drawn by four
diminutive ponies, the outfit so familiar to the boys who attend
The clowns were surprised when they observed it, knowing that the
patrol was not scheduled to enter at this time.  Their surprise
was even greater when the wagon dashed up and stopped where they
were playing their game of football.  Three mock policemen leaped
out and rushed into the thick of the mock game.
As they did so they hurled the clowns right and left, standing
some of them on their heads and beating them with their clubs,
which, in this instance, proved to be slapsticks, that made a
great racket.
This was a part of the act that the clowns had not arranged.
It was a little joke that the owner of the show was playing
on them.  Quick to seize an opportunity to make a hit, Sparling
had ordered out the show patrol, and the audience, catching
the significance of it, shouted, swinging their hats
and handkerchiefs.
The three policemen, after laying the clowns low, grabbed the
helpless human football by the heels, dragging him to the wagon
and dumping him in.  They dropped the human football in so
heavily that it bounced out again and hit the ground.  The next
time, as they threw Teddy in, one of the officers sat on him to
The gong set up an excited clanging, and the ponies began racing
around the arena the long way, and took the stretch to the
paddock at a terrific speed, with the howls of the multitude
sounding in their ears.
Reaching the dressing tent, the mock policemen let the air out
of the rubber ball, whereat Teddy sat down heavily in a pail
The performers danced around Tucker, singing an improvised song
about the human football.  Gradually the angry scowl on the face
of the Circus Boy relaxed into a broad grin.
"How do you like being a clown now?" jeered the Iron-Jawed Man.
"Yes; how does it feel to be a football?" questioned another.
"I guess you got even with me that time," answered Teddy
good-naturedly.  "But say, that's easy compared with riding
the educated mule."
CHAPTER XIII
DUCKED BY AN ELEPHANT
The great white billows of the Sparling Combined Shows were
moving steadily across the continent.  The receipts had exceeded
Mr. Sparling's most sanguine expectations, and he was in great
Only one unpleasant incident had happened and that occurred at
Franklin, Indiana.  Phil and Teddy, while on their way to their
car after the performance late at night, had been set upon by two
men and quite severely beaten, though both lads had given a good
account of themselves and finally driven off their assailants.
They did not report their experience to Mr. Sparling until the
next morning, having gone directly to their car and put
themselves to bed after having been fixed up with plasters and
bandages by some of their companions.  The next morning neither
lad was particularly attractive to look at.  However, bearing the
taunts of the show people good-naturedly, they started for the
cook tent just as they were in the habit of doing every day.
But Mr. Sparling had seen them as they passed his car on
"Now, I wonder what those boys have been up to?" he scowled,
watching their receding forms thoughtfully.  "I'll find out."
And he did.  He summoned the lads to his office in the tent soon
after breakfast.
"I expected you would send for us," grinned Phil, as he walked in
"What about it?  You are both sights!"
"Grease paint and powder will cover it up, I guess,
Mr. Sparling."
"I'll hear how it happened."
"I can't tell you much about it," said Phil.  "We were on our way
to the car when a couple of men suddenly jumped out from a fence
corner and went at us hammer and tongs.  That's when we got these
beauty spots.  If we had seen the fellows coming we might not
have been hit at all."
"Wait a minute; where did this occur?" demanded the showman.
"Just outside the lot at Franklin.  It was very dark there, and,
as you know, the sky was overcast."
"Did you know the men--had you ever seen them before?"
"I couldn't say as to that."
"No, sir; we couldn't say," added Teddy, nodding.
Mr. Sparling turned a cold eye upon Tucker.
"I haven't asked for remarks from you, young man.  When I do you
may answer."
Teddy subsided for the moment.
"But, had it been anyone you knew, you must have recognized
their voices."
"They didn't say a word.  Just pitched into us savagely.  I think
they might have done us serious injury had we not defended
ourselves pretty well."
"It occurs to me that you were rather roughly handled as it was,"
said the showman, with a suspicion of a grin on his face.
"Doctor fixed you up, I suppose?"
"Oh, no; it wasn't so bad as that."
"Have you any suspicion--do you think it was any of the
show people?" demanded Mr. Sparling, eyeing Phil penetratingly.
"I don't know.  Here is a button I got from the coat of one of
the men.  That may serve to identify him if he is one of our men.
I haven't had a chance to look around this morning."
The showman quickly stretched forth his hand for the button,
which he examined curiously.
"And here's a collar, too," chuckled Teddy.
"A collar?  Where did you get that, young man?"
"Oh, I just yanked it off the other fellow.  Guess it hasn't been
to the laundry this season."
Mr. Sparling leaned back and laughed heartily.
"Between you, you boys will be the ruination of me.  You take my
mind off business so that I don't know what I'm about half of
the time.  But I can't get along without you.  I'll look into
this matter," he went on more gravely.  "Tell the boss canvasman
to send Larry and Bad Eye to me."
The lads delivered the message.
Mr. Sparling's eyes twinkled as these two worthies sneaked
into his tent, each with a hangdog expression on his face.
"Red" Larry had a black eye, while Bad Eye's nose appeared
to have listed to one side.
The showman glanced at Larry's coat, then at the button in his
own hand.  He nodded understandingly.  Bad Eye was collarless.
"Here's a button that I think you lost off your coat last night,
Larry," smiled Mr. Sparling sweetly.  "And, Bad Eye, here's
your collar.  Better send it to the washerwoman."
The men were speechless for the moment.
"Go to the boss, both of you, and get your time.  Then I want you
to clear out of here."
"Wha--what--we ain't done nothing," protested Larry.
"And you had better not.  If I see you about the circus lot again
this season, I'll have you both in the nearest jail quicker than
you can say 'scat!' Understand?  Get out of here!"
The showman half rose from his chair, glaring angrily at them.
His good-nature had suddenly left him, and the canvasmen, knowing
what they might expect from the wrathful showman, stood not upon
the order of their going.  They ran.
Larry had left some of his belongings behind a cage in the
menagerie tent, and he headed directly for that place to get it
out and foot it for the village before Mr. Sparling should
discover him on the grounds.
In going after his bundle Larry was obliged to pass the elephant
station, where the elephants were taking their morning baths,
throwing water over their backs from tubs that had been placed
before them.  A pail full of water had been left near old
Emperor's tub by the keeper, because the tub would hold no more.
Emperor apparently had not observed it, nor did he seem to
see the red-headed canvasman striding his way.  Mr. Kennedy,
the keeper, was at the far end of the line sweeping off the baby
elephant with a broom, while Phil and Teddy were sitting on a
pile of straw back of Emperor discussing their experience the
previous evening.
"There's Red," said Teddy, pointing.
"Yes, and he seems to be in a great hurry about something.
I'll bet Mr. Sparling has discharged him.  I'm sorry.  I hate
to see anybody lose his job, but I guess Red deserves it if
anybody does.  He's one of the fellows that attacked us
last night.  I haven't the least doubt about that."
"Yes, and he's got a button off his coat, too," added Teddy,
peering around Emperor.  "What I want now is to see a fellow with
his collar torn off.  I got a tent stake here by me that I'd like
to meet him with."
"You would do nothing of the sort, Teddy Tucker!  Hello, what's
going on there?"
As Larry passed swiftly in front of Emperor, the old elephant's
trunk suddenly wrapped itself about the pail of water unobserved
by the discharged canvasman.
Emperor lifted the pail on high, quickly twisted it bottom side
up and jammed it down over the head of Larry.  The latter went
down under the impact and before he could free himself from the
pail and get up, Emperor had performed the same service for him
with the tub of water.
Under the deluge Red Larry was yelling and choking, making
desperate efforts to get up.  He struggled free in a moment,
and in his blind rage he hurled the empty pail full in Emperor's
face, following it with a blow over the animal's trunk with a
It was the elephant's turn to be angry now.  He did not take into
consideration that it was he that was to blame for the assault.
Stretching out his trunk, he encircled the waist of the yelling
canvasman, and, raising him on high, dashed him to the ground
almost under his ponderous feet.
Phil had risen about the time the tub came down.  At first he
laughed; but when the elephant caught his victim, the lad knew
that the situation was critical.
"Emperor!  Down!" he shouted.
It was then that the elephant cast Red under his feet.
Phil darted forward just as a ponderous foot was raised to
trample the man to death.  Without the least sense of fear the
lad ran in under Emperor, and, grabbing Larry by the heels,
dragged him quickly out.
The elephant was furious at the loss of his prey, and, raising
his trunk, trumpeted his disapproval, straining at his chains and
showing every sign of dangerous restlessness.
After getting Larry out of harm's way, Phil sprang fearlessly
toward his elephant friend.
"Quiet, Emperor, you naughty boy!" Forrest chided.  "Don't you
know you might have killed him?  I wouldn't want anything to do
with you if you had done a thing like that."
Gradually the great beast grew quiet and his sinuous trunk sought
out the Circus Boy's pockets in search of sweets, of which there
was a limited supply.
While this was going on Mr. Kennedy, the keeper, had hurried
up and dashed a pail of water into the face of the now
unconscious Larry.  By this time Larry was well soaked down.
He could not have been more so had he fallen in a mill pond.
But the last bucketful brought him quickly to his senses.
"You--you'll pay for this," snarled Larry, shaking his fist at
Phil Forrest.
"Why, I didn't do anything, Larry," answered the lad
in amazement.
"You did.  You set him on to me."
"That'll be about all from you, Mr. Red Head," warned Kennedy.
"The kid didn't do anything but save your life.  I wouldn't
let a little thing like that trouble me if I were you.
You've been doing something to that bull, or he'd never have
used you like that.  Why, Emperor is as gentle as a young kitten.
He wouldn't hurt a fly unless the fly happened to bite him
too hard.  Phil, did you see that fellow do anything to him?"
Phil shook his head.
"Not now.  He may have at some other time."
"That's it!"
Just then Mr. Sparling came charging down on the scene, having
heard of the row out at the front door.
Larry saw him coming.  He decided not to argue the question any
further, but started on a run across the tent, followed by the
showman, who pursued him with long, angry strides.  But Larry
ducked under the tent and got away before his pursuer could
reach him, while Phil and Teddy stood holding their sides
with laughter.
IN DIRE PERIL
Two days had passed and nothing more had been seen of the
discharged canvasmen.  Believing they were well rid of them
all hands proceeded to forget about the very existence of Larry
and Bad Eye.
As Phil was passing the roped-off enclosure where the elephants
were tethered, the next morning just before the parade, he saw
Mr. Kennedy regarding one of the elephants rather anxiously.
"What's the trouble?  Anything gone wrong?" sang out the
lad cheerily.
"Not yet," answered the keeper without turning his head.
"Something is bothering you or else you are planning out
something new for the bulls," decided Phil promptly.
"What is it?"
"I don't like the way Jupiter is acting."
"He is ugly."
Phil ducked under the ropes and boldly walked over toward the
swaying beast.
"Better keep away from him.  He isn't to be trusted today."
"Going to send him out in the parade?"
"Haven't decided yet.  I may think it best to leave Jupiter here
with perhaps the baby elephant for company.  He would cut up, I'm
afraid, were I to leave him here alone.  No; I think, upon second
thought, that we had better take him out.  It may take his mind
from his troubles."
"What do you think is the matter with him?" questioned the
Circus Boy, regarding the beast thoughtfully.
"That's what bothers me.  He has never acted this way before.
Usually there are some signs that I told you about once before
that tells one an elephant is going bad."
"You mean the tear drops that come out from the slit under
"Yes.  There has been nothing of that sort with Jupiter."
"He acts to me as if he had a bad stomach," suggested
Phil wisely.
"That's right.  That expresses it exactly.  I guess we'll have to
give him a pill to set him straight.  But Jupiter never was much
of a hand for pills.  He'll object if we suggest it."
"Then don't suggest it.  Just give it to him in his food."
"You can't fool him," answered Mr. Kennedy, with a shake of
the head.  "He'd smell it a rod away, and that would make him
madder than ever.  The best way is to make him open his mouth and
throw the pill back as far as possible in his throat."
"Have you told Mr. Sparling?"
"No.  He doesn't like to be bothered with these little things.
He leaves that all to me.  It's a guess, though, as to just
what to do under these conditions.  No two cases, any more
than any two elephants, are alike when it comes to disposition
and treatment."
"No; I suppose not."
"Where are you going now, Phil?"
"Going back to the dressing tent to get ready for the parade.
Hope you do not have any trouble."
"No; I guess I shan't.  I can manage to hold him, and if I don't,
I'll turn Emperor loose.  He makes a first-rate policeman."
Phil hurried on to the dressing tent, for he was a little late
this morning, for which he was not wholly to blame, considerable
time having been lost in his interview with Mr. Sparling.
In the hurry of preparation for the parade, Phil forgot all about
Mr. Kennedy's concern over Jupiter.  But he was reminded of it
again when he rode out to fall in line with the procession.
Mr. Kennedy and his charges, all well in hand, were just
emerging from the menagerie tent to take their places for
the parade.  Jupiter was among them.  He saw, too, that
Mr. Kennedy was walking by Jupiter's side, giving him almost
his exclusive attention.
Phil's place in the parade this season was with a body of
German cavalry.  He wore a plumed hat, with a gaudy uniform and
rode a handsome bay horse, one of the animals used in the running
race at the close of the circus.  Phil had become very proficient
on horseback and occasionally had entered the ring races, being
light enough for the purpose.  He had also kept up his bareback
practice, under the instruction of Dimples, until he felt quite
proud of his achievements.
Vincennes, where the show was to exhibit that day, was a large
town, and thousands of people had turned out to view the parade
which had been extensively advertised as one of the greatest
features ever offered to the public.
"They seem to like it," grinned Phil, turning to the rider
"Act as if they'd never seen a circus parade before," answered
the man.  "But wait till we get out in some of the way-back towns
in the West."
"I thought we were West now?"
"Not until we get the other side of the Mississippi, we won't be.
They don't call Indiana West.  We'll be getting there pretty
soon, too.  According to the route card, we are going to make
some pretty long jumps from this on."
"We do not go to Chicago, do we?"
"No.  Show's not quite big enough for that town.  We go south of
it, playing some stands in Illinois, then striking straight west.
Hello, what's the row up ahead there?"
"What row, I didn't see anything."
"Something is going on up there.  See!  The line is breaking!"
The part of the parade in which Phil was located was well up
toward the elephants, the animals at that moment having turned
a corner, moving at right angles to Phil's course.
"It's the elephants!" cried the lad aghast.
"What's happening?"
"They have broken the line!"
All was confusion at the point on which the two showmen had
focused their eyes.
"It's a stampede, I do believe!" exclaimed Phil.  "I wonder where
Mr. Kennedy is?  I don't see him anywhere."
"There!  They're coming this way."
"What, the elephants?  Yes, that's so.  Oh, I'm afraid somebody
will be killed."
"If there hasn't already been," growled Phil's companion.
"I'm going to get out of this while I have the chance.  I've seen
elephants on the rampage before."  Saying which, the showman
turned his horse and rode out of the line.  His example was
followed by many of the others.
People were screaming and rushing here and there, horses
neighing, and the animals in the closed cages roaring in a
most terrifying way.
Phil pulled his horse up short, undecided what to do.  He had
never seen a stampede before, but desperate as the situation
seemed, he felt no fear.
The elephants, with lowered heads, were charging straight ahead.
Now Phil saw that which seemed to send his heart right up into
Little Dimples had been riding in a gayly bedecked two-wheeled
cart, drawn by a prancing white horse.  Dressed in white from
head to foot, she looked the dainty creature that she was.
Dimples, seeing what had happened, had wheeled her horse
quickly out of line, intending to turn about and drive back along
the line.  It would be a race between the white horse and the
elephants, but she felt sure she would be able to make it and
turn down a side street before the stampeding herd reached her.
She might have done so, had it not been for one unforeseen
As she dashed along a rider, losing his presence of mind, if
he had had any to lose, drove his horse directly in front of her.
The result was a quick collision, two struggling horses lying
kicking in the dust of the street, and a white-robed figure lying
stretched out perilously near the flying hoofs.
The force of the collision had thrown Little Dimples headlong
from her seat in the two wheeled cart, and there she lay,
half-dazed with the herd of elephants thundering down upon her.
Phil took in her peril in one swift glance.
"She'll be killed!  She'll be killed!" he cried, all the color
suddenly leaving his face.
All at once he drove the rowels of his spurs against the sides of
his mount.  The animal sprang away straight toward the oncoming
herd, but Phil had to fight every inch of the way to keep the
horse from turning about and rushing back, away from the peril
that lay before it.
The lad feared he would not be able to reach Dimples in time,
but with frequent prods of spur and crop, uttering little
encouraging shouts to the frightened horse, he dashed on,
dodging fleeing showmen and runaway horses at almost every jump.
He forged up beside the girl at a terrific pace.  But, now that
he was there, the lad did not dare dismount, knowing that
were he to do so, his horse would quickly break away from him,
thus leaving them both to be crushed under the feet of the
ponderous beasts.
It was plain to Phil that Jupiter must have gone suddenly bad,
and, starting on a stampede, had carried the other bulls
with him.  And he even found himself wondering if anything
had happened to his friend Kennedy, the elephant trainer.
If Kennedy were on his feet he would be after them.
As it was, no one appeared to be chasing the runaway beasts.
Phil leaned far from the saddle grasping the woman by her
flimsy clothing.  It gave way just as he had begun to lift her,
intending to pull her up beside him on the horse's back.
Twice he essayed the feat, each time with the same result.
The bay was dancing further away each time, and the elephants
were getting nearer.  The uproar was deafening, which, with
the trumpetings of the frightened elephants, made the stoutest
hearts quail.
With a grim determination Forrest once more charged alongside
of Dimples.  As he did so she opened her eyes, though Phil did
not observe this, else he might have acted differently.
As it was he threw himself from the bay while that animal was
still on the jump.  Keeping tight hold of the saddle pommel,
the reins bunched in the hand that grasped it, Phil dropped down.
When he came up, Dimples was on his arm.
He then saw that she was herself again.
"Can you hold on if I get you up?"
"Yes.  You're a good boy."
Phil made no reply, but, with a supreme effort, threw the girl
into the saddle.  To do so he was obliged to let go the pommel
and the reins for one brief instant.  But he succeeded in
throwing Dimples up to the saddle safely, where she quickly
secured herself.
The bay was off like a shot, leaving Phil directly in front of
the oncoming elephants.
"Run!  I'll come back and get you," shouted Dimples over
her shoulder.
"You can't.  The reins are over the bay's head," he answered.
She was powerless to help.  Dimples realized this at once.
She was in no danger herself.  She was such a skillful rider that
it made little difference whether the reins were in her hand or
on the ground, so far as maintaining her seat was concerned.
With Phil, however, it was different.
"I guess I might as well stand still and take it," muttered the
He turned, facing the mad herd, a slender but heroic figure in
that moment of peril.
EMPEROR TO THE RESCUE
"Get back!" shouted the boy.
He had descried Teddy Tucker driving his own mount toward him.
Teddy was coming to the rescue in the face of almost
certain death.
"You can't make it!  Go back!"
Whether or not Teddy heard and understood, did not matter,
for at that moment the view of the plucky lad was shut off
by the elephants forming their charging line into crescent shape.
"Emperor!" he called in a shrill penetrating voice.  But in the
dust of the charge he could not make out which one was Emperor,
yet he continued calling lustily.
Phil threw his hands above his head as was his wont when desirous
of having the old elephant pick him up.
Right across the center of the crescent careened a great hulking
figure, uttering loud trumpetings--trumpetings that were taken up
by his companions until the very ground seemed to shake.
Phil's back was half toward the big elephant, and in the noise he
did not distinguish a familiar note in the call.
All at once he felt himself violently jerked from the ground.
The lad was certain that his time had come.  But out of that
cloud of dust, in which those who looked, believed that the
little Circus Boy had gone down to his death, Phil Forrest
rose right up into the air and was dropped unharmed to the back
of old Emperor.
For the moment he was so dizzy that he was unable to make up his
mind what had happened or where he was.  Then it all came to him.
He was on Emperor's back.
"Hurrah!" shouted Phil.  "Good old Emperor!  Steady, steady,
That's a good fellow."
He patted the beast's head with the flat of his hand, crooned to
him, using every artifice that he knew to quiet the nerves of his
Little by little Emperor appeared to come out of his fright,
until the lad felt almost certain that the big beast would
take orders.  He tried the experiment.
"Left, Emperor!"
The elephant swerved sharply to the left, aided by a sharp tap of
the riding crop which Phil still carried.
Phil uttered a little cry of exultation.
"Now, if I can head them off!"
With this in mind he gradually worked Emperor around until the
herd had been led into a narrow street.  Here, Phil began forcing
his mount back and forth across the street in an effort to check
the rush of the stampede, all the time calling out the command to
slow down, which he had learned from Mr. Kennedy.
He was more successful than he had even dreamed he could be.
"Now, if I am not mistaken, that street beyond there leads out to
the lot.  I'll see if I can make them go that way."
All did save Jupiter, who charged straight ahead for some
distance, then turning sharply tore back and joined his fellows.
"If I had a hook I believe I could lead him.  He's a very
bad elephant.  I hope nobody has been killed."
It was more quiet in the street where Forrest now found himself,
and by degrees the excitement that had taken possession of the
huge beasts began to wear off.
Phil uttered his commands to them in short, confident tones,
all the time drawing nearer and nearer to the circus lot.
Very soon the fluttering flags from the big top were seen above
the intervening housetops.
"I'm going to win--oh, I hope I do!" breathed the Circus Boy.
With rapid strides, at times merging into a full run, the beasts
tore along, now understanding that they were nearing their
quarters, where safety and quiet would be assured.
And, beyond that, it was time for their dinners.  Already bales
of hay had been placed in front of their quarters, and the
elephants knew it.
As the procession burst into the circus lot a dozen attendants
started on a run toward them.
"Keep off!" shouted Phil.  "Do you want to stampede them again?
Keep away, I tell you and I'll get them home.  Drive all the
people out of the way in case the bulls make another break.
That's all you can do now."
Now young Forrest urged Emperor to the head of the line of
bobbing beasts, feeling sure that the others would follow him
They did.  The whole line of elephants swept in through the
opening that the attendants had quickly made by letting down
a section of the side walls of the menagerie tent, with Phil
Forrest a proud and happy boy, perched on the head of
old Emperor.
He went at it with all the confidence and skill of a professional
elephant trainer.
Each beast walked to his regular place, a dozen sinuous trunks
gathering up as many wisps of hay.
"Back up!  Back, Jupiter!"
As docile as if they never had left the tent, each huge beast
slowly felt his way into his corner.
"Good boy, Emperor!" glowed Phil holding out a small bag of
peanuts, which Emperor quickly stowed away in his mouth bag
"You greedy fellow!  Now get back into your own corner!"
The elephant did so.
"You fellows keep away from here," warned Phil as the anxious
tent men began crowding around him.  "Don't let anybody get these
big fellows excited.  We've had trouble enough for one day."
Phil then began chaining down the beasts, his first care being to
secure the unruly Jupiter.  But Jupiter's fit of bad temper
seemed to have left him entirely.  He was as peaceful as could
be, and, to show that he was good, he showered a lot of hay all
"You bad, bad boy!" chided the lad.  "All this is just because
you let your temper get the best of you.  I think perhaps
Mr. Sparling may have something to say to you if anyone
has been killed or seriously hurt.  Oh, you want some peanuts,
do you?  I haven't any, but I'll get you some, though goodness
knows you don't deserve any.  Bring me some peanuts, will
you please?"
An attendant came running with a bag of them.  Phil met him
halfway, not wishing the man to approach too near.  With the bag
in his hand the boy walked slowly down the line, giving to each
of his charges a small handful.
This was the final act in subduing them.  They were all
thoroughly at home and perfectly contented now, and Phil
had chained the last one down, except the baby elephant,
that usually was left free to do as it pleased, providing it did
not get too playful.
At this moment Phil heard a great shouting out on the lot.
"Go out there and stop that noise!" the boy commanded.  He was as
much in charge of the show at that moment as if he had been the
proprietor himself.
Shortly after that Mr. Kennedy came rushing in on one of the
circus ponies that he had taken from a parade rider.  Phil was
delighted to see that the keeper was uninjured.
"Did you do this, Phil Forrest?" he shouted bursting in.
"Yes.  But I'll have to do it all over again if you keep on
yelling like that.  What happened to you?"
"Jupiter threw me over a fence, into an excavation where they
were digging for a new building.  I thought I was dead, but after
a little I came to and crawled out.  It was all over but the
shouting then."
"Did you know I had them?"
"No; not until I got near the lot.  I followed their tracks
you see.  Finally some people told me a kid was leading the herd
back here.  I knew that was you.  Phil Forrest, you are a dandy.
I can't talk now!  I'm too winded.  I'll tell you later on what I
think of your kind.  Now I'm going to whale the daylights out of
that Jupiter."
"Please don't do anything of the sort," begged Phil.  "He is
quiet now.  He has forgotten all about it.  I am afraid if you
try to punish him you will only make him worse."
"Good elephant sense," emphasized the keeper.  "You ought to be
on the animals."
"It seems to me that I have been pretty well on them today,"
grinned the lad.  "Oh, was anybody killed?"
"I think not.  Don't believe anyone was very seriously hurt.
You see, that open lot there gave the people plenty of chance
to see what was coming.  They had plenty of time to get away
after that."
"I'm so glad.  I hope no one was killed."
"Reckon there would have been if you hadn't got busy when
"Have you seen Mrs. Robinson?  I'm rather anxious about her."
"There she is now."
Dimples had changed her torn white dress for a short riding
skirt, and when Phil turned about she was running toward him
with outstretched arms.  He braced himself and blushed violently.
"Oh, you dear," cried the impulsive little equestrienne, throwing
both arms about Phil's neck.  "I wish my boy could have seen you
do that!  It was splendid.  You're a hero!  You'll see what a
craze the people will make of you--"
"I--I think they are more likely to chase us out of town,"
laughed Phil.  "We must have smashed up things pretty
thoroughly downtown."
"Never mind; Mr. Sparling will settle the damage.  The only
trouble will be that he won't have anyone to scold.  You saved
the day, Phil, and you saved me as well.  Of course I'm not much,
but I value my precious little life just as highly as the next
one--I mean the next person."
"The bay ran away with you, didn't he?"
"I suppose that's what some people would call it.  It would have
been a glorious ride if it hadn't been that I expected you were
being trampled to death back there.  The bay brought me right to
the lot, then stopped, of course.  Circus horses have a lot of
I heard right away that you were not injured and that you were
bringing the bulls in.  Then I was happy.  I'm happy now.
We'll have a lesson after the show.  You--"
"When do you think I shall be fit to go in the ring?"
"Fit now!  You're ahead of a good many who have been working
at it for years, and I mean just what I'm saying.  There is
Mr. Sparling.  Come on; run along back to the paddock with me.
I haven't finished talking with you yet."
"Perhaps he may want me," hesitated Phil.
"Nothing very particular.  He'll want to have it out with
Mr. Kennedy first.  Then, if he wants you, he can go back and
hunt you up, or send for you.  Mr. Sparling knows how to send for
people when he wants them, doesn't he?" twinkled Dimples.
"I should say he did," grinned Phil.  "He's not bashful.  Has my
friend Teddy got back yet?"
"Haven't seen him.  Why?  Worried about him?"
"Not particularly.  He has a habit of taking care of himself
under most circumstances."
Dimples laughed heartily.
"It will take more than a stampede to upset him.  He'll make a
showman if he ever settles down to the work in earnest."
"He has settled down, Mrs. Robinson," answered Phil with
some dignity.
"My, my!  But you needn't growl about it.  I was paying him
a compliment."
Thus she chattered on until they reached the paddock.  They had
been there but a few moments before the expected summons for Phil
was brought.
AN UNEXPECTED PROMOTION
Phil responded rather reluctantly.  He would have much preferred
to sit out in the paddock talking circus with Little Dimples.
He found Mr. Sparling striding up and down in front of the
elephant enclosure.
"I hope nothing very serious happened, Mr. Sparling," greeted
Phil, approaching him.
"If you mean damages, no.  A few people knocked down, mostly due
to their own carelessness.  I've got the claim-adjuster at work
settling with all we can get hold of.  But we'll get it all back
tonight, my boy.  We'll have a turn-away this afternoon, too,
unless I am greatly mistaken.  Why, they're lining up outside the
front door now."
"I'm glad for both these things," smiled Phil.  "Especially so
because no one was killed."
"No.  But one of our bareback riders was put out of business for
"Is that so?  Who?"
"Monsieur Liebman."
"Oh, that's too bad.  What happened to him?"
"Someone ran him down.  He was thrown and sprained his ankle.
He won't ride for sometime, I reckon.  But come over here and
sit down.  I want to have a little chat with you."
Mr. Sparling crossed the tent, sitting down on a bale of straw
just back of the monkey cage.  The simians were chattering
loudly, as if discussing the exciting incidents of the morning.
But as soon as they saw the showman they flocked to the back of
the cage, hanging by the bars, watching him to find out what he
was going to do.
He made a place for Phil beside him.
"Thank you."
"I was just running up in my mind, on my way back, that,
in actual figures, you've saved me about ten thousand dollars.
Perhaps it might be double that.  But that's near enough for all
practical purposes."
"I saved you--" marveled Phil, flushing.
"Well, you began last year, and you have started off at the same
old pace this season.  Today you have gone and done it again.
That was one of the nerviest things I ever saw.  I wouldn't
have given a copper cent for your life, and I'll bet you
wouldn't, either."
"N-o-o," reflected Phil slowly, "I thought I was a goner."
"While the rest of our crowd were hiking for cover, like a lot of
'cold feet,' you were diving right into the heart of the trouble,
picking up my principal equestrienne.  Then you sent her away and
stopped to face the herd of bulls.  Jumping giraffes, but it was
By this time the monkeys had gone back to finish their
animated discussion.
"I do not deserve any credit for that.  I was caught and I
thought I might as well face the music."
"Bosh!  I heard you calling for Emperor, and I knew right away
that that little head of yours was working like the wheels of
a chariot in a Roman race.  I knew what you were trying to do,
but I'd have bet a thousand yards of canvas you never would.
You did, though," and the showman sighed.
Phil was very much embarrassed and sat kicking his heels into
the soft turf, wishing that Mr. Sparling would talk about
something else.
"The whole town is talking about it.  I'm going to have the press
agent wire the story on ahead.  I told him, just before I came
in, that if he'd follow you he'd get 'copy' enough to last him
all the rest of his natural life.  All that crowd out there has
come because there was a young circus boy with the show, who had
a head on his shoulders and the pluck to back his gray matter."
"Have you talked with Mr. Kennedy?" asked Phil, wishing to change
the personal trend of the conversation.
"Did he say what he thought was the matter with Jupiter?"
"He didn't know.  He knew only that Jupiter had been 'off' for
nearly two days.  Kennedy said something about a bad stomach.
Why do you ask that question?" demanded the showman, with a
shrewd glance at the boy.
"Because I have been wondering about Jupiter quite a little
since morning.  I've been thinking, Mr. Sparling."
"Now what are you driving at?  You've got something in your head.
Out with it!"
"It may sound foolish, but--"
"While Jupiter was bad, he showed none of the signs that come
from a fit of purely bad temper--that is, before the stampede."
"That's right."
"Then what brought it on?" asked Phil looking Mr. Sparling
squarely in the eyes.
For a few seconds man and boy looked at each other without
"What's your idea?" asked the showman quietly.
"It's my opinion that somebody doctored him--gave him
something--"
The showman uttered a long, low whistle.
"You've hit it!  You've hit it!" he exclaimed, bringing a hand
down on the lad's knee with such force that Phil winced.
"It's one of those rascally canvasmen that I discharged.  Oh, if
ever I get my hands on him it will be a sorry day for him!
You haven't seen him about, have you?"
"I thought I caught a glimpse of him on the street yesterday
during the parade, but he disappeared so quickly that I could not
Mr. Sparling nodded reflectively.
"You probably heard how Emperor ducked him and--"
"Yes; you remember I came up just after the occurrence.
I'll tell you what I want you to do."
"I'll release you from the parade for tomorrow, and perhaps
longer, and I want you to spend your time moving around among
the downtown crowds to see if you can spot him.  If you succeed,
well you will know what to do."
"Want me to act as a sort of detective?" grinned Phil.
"Well, you might put it that way, but I don't.  You are serving
"Yes; I know that.  I am glad to serve you in any way I can."
"I don't have to take your word for that," laughed Mr. Sparling.
"I think you have shown me.  I have been thinking of
another matter.  It has been in my mind for several days."
Phil glanced up inquiringly.
"How would you like to come out front?"
"To join my staff?  I need someone just like you--a young man
with ideas, with the force to put them into execution after he
has developed them.  You are the one I want."
"But, Mr. Sparling--"
"Wait till I get through.  You can continue with your acts if you
wish, just the same, and give your odd moments to me."
"In what capacity?"
"Well, for the want of a better name we'll call it a sort of
confidential man."
"I appreciate the offer more than I can tell you, Mr. Sparling.
"I want to go through the mill in the ring.  I want to learn to
do everything that almost anyone can do there."
The showman laughed.
"Then you would be able to do what few men ever have succeeded
in doing.  You would be a wonder.  I'm not saying that you are
not that already, in your way.  But you would be a wonder
among showmen."
"I can do quite a lot of things now."
"I know you can.  And you will.  What do you say?"
"It's funny, but since you told me of the accident to your
bareback man, I was going to ask you something."
"Rather, I was going to suggest--"
"Well, out with it!"
"I was going to suggest that you let me fill in his place until
he is able to work again.  It would save you the expense of
getting a new performer on, and would hold the job for the
present man."
"You, a bareback rider?"
Phil nodded.
"But you can't ride!"
"But I can," smiled the lad.  "I've been at it almost ever since
we started the season.  I've been working every day."
"No.  Mrs. Robinson has been teaching me.  Of course, I am not
much of a rider, but I can manage to stick on somehow."
The manager was regarding him thoughtfully.
"As I have intimated strongly before this, you beat anything I
ever have seen in all my circus experience.  You say you can
ride bareback?"
"I should like to see what you can do.  Mind you, I'm not saying
I'll let you try it in public.  Just curious, you know, to see
what you have been doing."
"Now--will you see me ride now?"
Mr. Sparling nodded.
"Then I'll run back and get ready.  I'll be out in a few
laughed the boy, as, with sparkling eyes and flushed face,
he dashed back to the dressing tent to convey the good news
to Little Dimples.
"I knew it," she cried enthusiastically.  "I knew you would be a
rival soon.  Now I've got to look out or I shall be out of a job
in no time.  Hurry up and get your working clothes on.  I'll have
the gray out by the time you are ready."
Twenty minutes later Phil Forrest presented himself in the ring,
with Little Dimples following, leading the old gray ring horse.
"Come up to ring No. 2," directed the owner.  "They haven't
leveled No. 1 down yet.  How's this?  Don't you use the back pad
to ride on?" questioned Mr. Sparling in a surprised tone.
"No, sir.  I haven't used the pad at all yet."
"Very well; I'm ready to see you fall off."
Phil sprang lightly to the back of the ring horse while Dimples,
who had brought a ringmaster's whip with her, cracked the whip
and called shrilly to her horse.  The old gray fell into its
accustomed easy gallop, Phil sitting lightly on the animal's hip,
moving up and down with the easy grace of a finished rider.
After they had swept twice around the ring, the boy sprang to
his feet, facing ahead, and holding his short crop in both hands,
leaning slightly toward the center of the ring, treading on fairy
feet from one end of the broad back to the other.
Next he varied his performance by standing on one foot, holding
the other up by one hand, doing the same graceful step that he
had on both feet a moment before.
Now he tried the same feats riding backwards, a most difficult
performance for any save a rider of long experience.
Mrs. Robinson became so absorbed in his riding that she forgot to
urge the gray along or to crack the whip.  The result was that
the old horse stopped suddenly.
Phil went right on.  He was in a fair way to break his neck,
as he was plunging toward the turf head first.
"Ball!" she cried, meaning to double oneself up into as near an
approach to a round ball as was possible.
But Phil already had begun to do this very thing.  And he did
another remarkable feat at the same time.  He turned his body
in the air so that he faced to the front, and the next instant
landed lightly on his feet outside the ring.
Phil blew a kiss to the amazed owner, turning back to the
By this time Mrs. Robinson had placed the jumping board in the
ring--a short piece of board, one end of which was built up
about a foot from the ground.  Then she started the ring horse
galloping again.
Phil, measuring his distance, took a running start and vaulted,
landing on his feet on the animal's back, then, urging his mount
on to a lively gallop about the sawdust ring, he threw himself
into a whirlwind of graceful contortions and rapid movements,
adding some of his own invention to those usually practiced by
bareback riders.
Phil dropped to the hip of the gray, his face flushed with
triumph, his eyes sparkling.
"How is it, Mr. Sparling?" he called.
The showman was clapping his hands and clambering down the aisle
from his position near the top row of seats.
"You don't mean to tell me you have never tried bareback riding
before this season?" he demanded.
"No, sir; this is my first experience."
"Then all I have to say is that you will make one of the
finest bareback riders in the world if you keep on.  It is
marvelous, marvelous!"
"Thank you," glowed the lad.  "But if there is any credit
coming to anyone it is due to Mrs. Robinson.  She taught me
how to do it," answered Phil gallantly.
Little Dimples shook a small, brown fist at him.
"He knows how to turn a pretty compliment as well as he knows how
to ride, Mr. Sparling," bubbled Dimples.  "You should just hear
the nice things he said to me back in the paddock," she teased.
Phil blushed furiously.
"Shall I ride again?" he asked.
"Not necessary," answered the owner.  "But, by the way, you might
get up and do a somersault.  Do a backward turn with the horse at
a gallop," suggested Mr. Sparling, with a suspicion of a smile at
the corners of his mouth.
"A somersault?" stammered Phil, somewhat taken back.  "Why--I--
I--I guess I couldn't do that; I haven't learned to do that yet."
"Not learned to do it?  I am surprised."
Phil looked crestfallen.
"I am surprised, indeed, that there is one thing in this show
that you are unable to do."  The manager broke out into a roar of
laughter, in which Little Dimples joined merrily.
"May I go on?" asked the lad somewhat apprehensively.
"May you?  May you?  Why, I--"
At that moment Teddy Tucker came strolling lazily in with a long,
white feather tucked in the corner of his mouth.
The showman's eyes were upon it instantly.
"What have you there?" he demanded.
"Feather," answered Teddy thickly.
"I see it.  Where did you get it?"
"Pulled it out of the pelican's tail.  Going to make a pen
of it to use when I write to the folks at Edmeston," answered
the boy carelessly.
"You young rascal!" thundered Mr. Sparling.  "What do you
mean by destroying my property like that?  I'll fine you!
I'll teach you!"
"Oh, it didn't hurt the pelican any.  Besides, he's got more tail
than he can use in his business, anyway."
"Get out of here!" thundered the manager in well-feigned anger.
"I'll forget myself and discharge you first thing you know.
What do you want?"
"I was going to ask you something," answered Teddy slowly.
"You needn't.  You needn't.  It won't do you any good.  What is
it you were going to ask me?"
"I was going to ask you if I might go in the leaping act."
"The leaping act?"
"Yes, sir.  The one where the fellows jump over the
elephants and--"
"Ho, ho, ho!  What do you think of that, Phil?  What do you--"
"I can do it.  You needn't laugh.  I've done it every day for
three weeks.  I can jump over four elephants and maybe five, now.
"Yes, I have seen him do it, Mr. Sparling," vouched Phil.  "He is
going to make a very fine leaper."
The showman removed his broad sombrero, wiped the perspiration
from his brow, glancing from one to the other of the Circus Boys.
"Yes, yes.  Go ahead.  Do anything you want to.  I'm only the
hired man around here anyhow," snapped the showman, jamming his
hat down over his head and striding away, followed by the merry
laughter of Little Dimples.
CHAPTER XVII
THE CIRCUS BOYS WIN NEW LAURELS
"Bareback riders out!" shouted the callboy, poking his head
into the dressing tent.
"Get out!" roared a clown, hurling a fellow performer's bath
brush at the boy, which the youngster promptly shied back
at the clown's head, then prudently made his escape to call
Little Dimples in the women's dressing tent.
Phil Forrest, proud and happy, bounded out into the paddock,
resplendent in pink tights, a black girdle about his loins,
sparkling with silver spangles.
Little Dimples ran out at about the same time.
"How do I look?" he questioned, his face wreathed in smiles.
"If you ride half as well as you look today, you will make the
of your life," twinkled Dimples merrily.  "There, don't blush.
Run along.  The band is playing our entrance tune.  Mr. Ducro
will be in a fine temper if we are a second behind time."
For that day, and until Phil could break in on another animal,
Little Dimples had loaned her gray to him, for Phil did not
dare to try the experiment of riding a new horse at his
first appearance.  Altogether too much depended upon his first
public exhibition as a bareback rider to permit his taking any
such chances.
Dimples owned two horses, so she rode the second one this day.
As Phil walked lightly the length of the big top, which he
was obliged to do to reach ring No. 1 in which he was to ride,
his figure, graceful as it was, appeared almost fragile.
He attracted attention because of this fact alone, for the people
did not recognize in him the lad who had that morning stayed the
stampede of the herd of huge elephants.
"Now keep cool.  Don't get excited," warned Dimples as she left
him to enter the ring where she was to perform.  "Forget all
about those people out there, and they will do the rest."
Phil nodded and passed on smiling.  Reaching his ring he quickly
kicked off his pumps and leaped lightly to the back of his mount,
where he sat easily while the gray slowly walked about the
sawdust arena.
"Ladies and gentlemen," announced the equestrian director.
"You see before you the hero of the day, the young man who,
unaided, stopped the charge of a herd of great elephants,
saving, perhaps many lives besides doing a great service for
the Sparling Combined Shows."
"What did you do that for?" demanded Phil, squirming uneasily
on the slippery seat where he was perched.
"Unfortunately," continued the Director, "our principal male
bareback rider was slightly injured in that same stampede.
The management would not permit him to appear this evening on
that account, for the Sparling Combined Shows believe in
treating its people right.  Our young friend here has consented
to ride in the regular rider's place.  It is his first appearance
in any ring as a bareback rider.  I might add that he has been
practicing something less than three weeks for this act;
therefore any slips that he may make you will understand.
Ladies and gentlemen, I take pleasure in introducing to you
Master Phillip Forrest, the hero of the day--a young man who is
winning new laurels on the tanbark six days in every week!"
The audience, now worked up to the proper pitch of enthusiasm by
the words of the director, howled its approval, the spectators
drumming on the seats with their feet and shouting lustily.
Phil had not had such an ovation since the day he first rode
Emperor into the ring when he joined the circus in Edmeston.
The lad's face was a few shades deeper pink than his tights,
and nervous excitement seemed to suddenly take possession of him.
"I wish you hadn't done that," he laughed.  "I'll bet I fall off
now, for that."
"Tweetle!  Tweetle!" sang the whistle.
At a wave of the bandmaster's baton, the band suddenly launched
into a smashing air.
The ringmaster's whip cracked with an explosive sound, at which
the gray mare, unaffected by the noise and the excitement,
started away at a measured gallop, her head rising and falling
like the prow of a ship buffeting a heavy sea.
Phil was plainly nervous.  He knew it.  He felt that he was going
to make an unpleasant exhibition of himself.
"Get up!  Get going!  Going to sit there all day?" questioned
the ringmaster.
Phil threw himself to his feet.  Somehow he missed his footing in
his nervousness, and the next instant he felt himself falling.
"There, I've done it!" groaned the lad, as he dropped lightly on
all fours well outside the wooden ring curbing, which he took
care to clear in his descent.
"Oh, you Rube!  You've gone and done it now," growled
the ringmaster.  "It's all up.  You've lost them sure."
The audience was laughing and cheering at the same time.
Feeling her rider leave her back the gray dropped her gallop and
fell into a slow trot.
Phil scrambled to his feet very red in the face, while
Mr. Sparling, from the side lines, stood leaning against a
quarter pole with a set grin on his face.  His confidence in his
little Circus Boy was not wholly lost yet.
"Keep her up!  Keep her up!  What ails you?" snapped Phil.
All the grit in the lad's slender body seemed to come to the
front now.  His eyes were flashing and he gripped the little
riding whip as if he would vent his anger upon it.
The ringmaster's whip had exploded again and the gray began
to gallop.  Phil paused on the ring curbing with head slightly
inclined forward, watching the gray with keen eyes.
Phil had forgotten that sea of human faces out there now.  He saw
only that broad gray, rosined back that he must reach and cling
to, but without a slip this time.
All at once he left the curbing, dashing almost savagely at
"He'll never make it from the ground," groaned Mr. Sparling,
realizing that Phil had no step to aid him in his effort to reach
the back of the animal.
The lad launched himself into the air as if propelled by
a spring.  He landed fairly on the back of the ring horse,
wavered for one breathless second, then fell into the pose
of the accomplished rider.
"Y-i-i-i--p!  Y-i-i-i-p!" sang the shrill voice of Little Dimples
far down in ring No. 1.
"Y-i-i-i-p!" answered the Circus Boy, while the spectators broke
into thunders of applause.
Mr. Sparling, hardened showman that he was, brushed a suspicious
hand across his eyes and sat down suddenly.
"Such grit, Such grit!" he muttered.
Phil threw himself wildly into his work, taking every conceivable
position known to the equestrian world, and essaying many daring
feats that he had never tried before.  It seemed simply
impossible for the boy to fall, so sure was his footing.  Now he
would spring from the broad back of the gray, and run across the
ring, doing a lively handspring, then once more vault into a
standing position on the mare.
Suddenly the band stopped playing, for the rest that is always
given the performers.  But Phil did not pause.
"Keep her up!" Forrest shouted, bringing down his whip on the
flanks of his mount and, in a fervor of excitement and stubborn
determination, going at his work like a whirlwind.
Mr. Sparling, catching the spirit of the moment scrambled to his
feet and rushed to the foot of the bandstand, near which he had
been sitting.
"Play, you idiots, play!" shouted the proprietor, waving his
arms excitedly.
Play they did.
Little Dimples, too, had by this time forgotten that she was
resting, and now she began to ride as she never had ridden
before, throwing a series of difficult backward turns, landing
each time with a sureness that she never had before accomplished.
Tweetle!  Tweetle!
The act came to a quick ending.  The time for the equestrian act
had expired, and it must give way to the others that were
to follow.  But Phil, instead of dropping to the ground and
walking to the paddock along the concourse, suddenly brought down
his whip on the gray's flanks, much to that animal's surprise and
apparent disgust.
Starting off at a quicker gallop, the gray swung into the
concourse, heading for the paddock with disapproving ears laid
back on her head, Phil standing as rigid as a statue with folded
arms, far back over the animal's hips.
The people were standing up, waving their arms wildly.
Many hurled their hats at the Circus Boy in their excitement,
while others showered bags of peanuts over him as he raced
Such a scene of excitement and enthusiasm never had been seen
under that big top before.  Phil did not move from his position
until he reached the paddock.  Arriving there he sat down, slid
to the ground and collapsed in a heap.
Mr. Sparling came charging in, hat missing and hair
standing straight up where he had run his fingers through
it in his excitement.
He grabbed Phil in his arms and carried him into the
dressing tent.
"You're not hurt, are you, my lad?" he cried.
"No; I'm just a silly little fool," smiled Phil a bit weakly.
"How did I do?"
"It was splendid, splendid."
"Hurrah for Phil Forrest!" shouted the performers.  Then boosting
the lad to their shoulders, the painted clowns began marching
about the dressing tent with him singing, "For He's a Jolly
Good Fellow."
"All out for the leaping act," shouted the callboy, poking his
grinning countenance through between the flaps.  "Leapers and
clowns all out on the jump!"
CHAPTER XVIII
DOING A DOUBLE SOMERSAULT
Cool, confident a troop of motley fools and clean-limbed
performers filed out from the dressing tent, on past the
bandstand and across the arena to the place where the springboard
had been rigged, with a mat two feet thick a short distance
With them proudly marched Teddy Tucker.
Mr. Sparling, in the meantime, was patting Phil on the back.
"I'm in a quandary, Phil," he said.
"What about?" smiled the lad, tugging away at his tights.
"I want you out front and yet it would be almost a crime to take
a performer like you out of the ring.  Tell me honestly, where
would you prefer to be?"
"That's a difficult question to answer.  There is a terrible
fascination about the ring, and it's getting a stronger hold of
me every day I am out."
"Yes; I understand that.  It's so with all of them.  I was that
way myself at first."
"Were you ever in the ring?"
"I clowned it.  But I wasn't much of a performer.  Just did a few
simple clown stunts and made faces at the audience.  Then I got
some money ahead and started out for myself.  If I'd had you then
I would have had a railroad show long before this season," smiled
the showman.
"On the other hand," continued Phil, "I am anxious to learn the
front of the house as well as the ring.  I think, maybe, that I
could spend part of my time in the office, if that is where you
wish me.  If you can spare me from the parade, I might put in
that time to decided advantage doing things on the lot for you,"
"Spare you from the parade?  Well, I should say so.  You are
relieved from that already.  Of course, any time you wish to go
out, you have the privilege of doing so.  Sometimes it is a
change, providing one is not obliged to go," smiled the showman.
"Most of the performers would be glad if they did not
have to, though."
"No doubt of it.  But let's see; you have how many acts now?
There's the flying rings, the elephant act and now comes the
bareback act--"
"Yes; three," nodded Phil.
"That's too many.  You'll give out under all that, and now we're
talking about doubling you out in front.  I guess we will let the
front of the house take care of itself for the present."
Phil looked rather disappointed.
"Of course, any time you wish you may come out, you know."
"Thank you; I shall be glad to do that.  I can do a lot of
little things to help you as soon as I learn how you run
the show.  I know something about that already," grinned the lad.
"If you wish, I will double somebody up on your flying rings act.
What do you say?"
"It isn't necessary, Mr. Sparling.  I can handle all three
without any difficulty, only the bareback act comes pretty
close to the grand entry.  It doesn't give me much time to
change my costume."
"That's right.  Tell you what we'll do."
"We'll set the bareback act forward one number, substituting
the leaping for it.  That will give you plenty of time to make
a change, will it not?"
"Plenty," agreed Phil.
"How about the flying rings.  They come sometime later, if I
remember correctly."
"Yes; the third act after the riding, according to the
new arrangement.  No trouble about that."
"Very well; then I will notify the director and let him make
the necessary changes.  I want to go out now and see your young
friend make an exhibition of himself."
"Yes.  He's going on the leaping act for the first time,
"That's so.  I had forgotten all about it.  I want to see that,
I'll hurry and dress."
"And, Phil," said the showman in a more kindly voice, even,
than he had used before.
"Yes, sir," answered the lad, glancing up quickly.
"You are going to be a great showman some of these days, both in
the ring and out of it.  Remember what I tell you."
"Thank you; I hope so.  I am going to try to be at least a
"You're that already.  You've done a lot for the Sparling
Combined as it is and I don't want you to think I do not
appreciate it.  Shake hands!"
Man and boy grasped each other's hand in a grip that meant more
than words.  Then Mr. Sparling turned abruptly and hurried out
into the big top where the leaping act was in full cry.
Painted clowns were keeping the audience in a roar by their
funny leaps from the springboard to the mat, while the supple
acrobats were doing doubles and singles through the air,
landing gracefully on the mat as a round off.
The showman's first inquiring look was in search of Teddy Tucker.
He soon made the lad out.  Teddy was made up as a fat boy with a
low, narrow-brimmed hat perched jauntily on one side of his head.
There was drollery in Teddy's every movement.  His natural
clownish movements were sufficient to excite the laughter
of the spectators without any attempt on his part to be funny,
while the lad kept up a constant flow of criticism of his
companions in the act.
But they had grown to know Teddy better, by this time, and none
took his taunts seriously.
"That boy can leap, after all," muttered Mr. Sparling.
"I thought he would tumble around and make some fun for the
audience, but I hadn't the least idea he could do a turn.
Why, he's the funniest one in the bunch."
Teddy was doing funny twists in the air as he threw a somersault
at that moment.  In his enthusiasm he overshot the mat, and had
there not been a performer handy to catch him, the lad might have
been seriously hurt.
Mr. Sparling shook his head.
"Lucky if he doesn't break his neck!  But that kind seldom do,"
the owner said out loud.
Now the helpers were bringing the elephants up.  Two were placed
in front of the springboard and over these a stream of gaudily
attired clowns dived, doing a turn in the air as they passed.
Teddy was among the number.
Three elephants were lined up, then a fourth and a fifth.
"I hope he isn't going to try that," growled Mr. Sparling,
noting that the lad was waiting his turn to get up on
the springboard.  "Not many of them can get away with
that number.  I suppose I ought to go over and stop the boy.
But I guess he won't try to jump them.  He'll probably walk
across their backs, the same as he has seen the other clowns do."
Teddy, however, had a different plan in mind.  He had espied
Mr. Sparling looking at him from across the tent, and he proposed
to let the owner see what he really could do.
For a moment the lad poised at the top of the springboard,
critically measuring the distance across the backs of the
assembled elephants.
"Go on, go on!" commanded the director.  "Do you think this show
can wait on your motion all day?  Jump, or get off the board!"
"Say, who's doing this you or I?" demanded Teddy in well-feigned
indignation, and in a voice that was audible pretty much all over
This drew a loud laugh from the spectators, who were now in a
frame of mind to laugh at anything the Fat Boy did.
"It doesn't look as if anyone were doing anything.
Somebody will be in a minute, if I hear any more of your talk,"
snapped the director.  "Are you going to jump, or are you going
to get off the board?"
"Well," shouted Teddy, "confidentially now, mind you.  Come over
I want to talk to you.  Confidentially, you know.  I'm going to
if you'll stop asking questions long enough for me to get away."
Amid a roar of laughter from spectators, and broad grins on the
part of the performers, Teddy took a running start and shot up
into the air.
"He's turning too quick," snapped Mr. Sparling.
Teddy, however, evidently knew what he was about.  Turning a
beautiful somersault, he launched into a second one with the
confidence of a veteran.  All the circus people in the big top
expected to see the lad break his neck.  Instead, however, Tucker
landed lightly and easily on his feet while the spectators
shouted their approval.  But instead of landing on the mat as he
thought he was doing, Teddy was standing on the back of the last
elephant in the line.
His double somersault had made him dizzy and the boy did not
realize that he had not yet reached the mat on the ground.
Bowing and smiling to the audience, the Fat Boy started to
Then Teddy fell off, landing in a heap on the hard ground.
He rose, aching, but the onlookers on the boards took it all
as a funny finish, and gleefully roared their appreciation.
MAROONED IN A FREIGHT CAR
"Catch him!  Catch him!  Catch that man!"
The parade was just passing when Phil shouted out the words
that attracted all eyes toward him.  It was to a policeman that
he appealed.
The lad had discovered a shock of red hair above the heads of the
people, and was gradually working his way toward the owner of it,
when all at once Red Larry discovered him.
Red pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared down an
alleyway, the policeman to whom the boy had appealed making no
effort to catch the man.
"What kind of a policeman are you, anyway?" cried Phil
in disgust.  "That fellow is a crook, and we have been on the
lookout for him for the last four weeks."
"What's he done?"
"Done?  Tried to poison one of the elephants, and a lot of
other things."
"The kid's crazy or else he belongs to the circus," laughed
a bystander.
Phil Forrest did not hear the speaker, however, for the boy had
dashed through the crowd and bounded into the alley where he had
caught a glimpse of a head of red hair a moment before.
But Larry was nowhere in sight.  He had disappeared utterly.
"I was right," decided Phil, after going the length of the alley
and back.  "He's been following this show right along, and
before he gets through he'll put us out of business if we don't
look sharp."
Considerable damage already had been done.  Horses and other
animals fell ill, in some instances with every evidence of
poisoning; guy ropes were cut, and the cars had been tampered
with in the railroad yards.
All this was beginning to get on the nerves of the owner of
the show, as well as on those of some of his people who knew
about it.  Things had come to a point where it was necessary
to place more men on guard about the lot to protect the
show's property.
At each stand of late efforts had been made to get the police to
keep an eye open for one Red Larry, but police officials do not,
as a rule, give very serious heed to the complaints of a circus,
especially unless the entire department has been pretty well
supplied with tickets.  Mr. Sparling was a showman who did not
give away many tickets unless there were some very good reason
for so doing.
Phil, in the meantime, had been at work in an effort to
satisfy his own belief that Larry was responsible for their
numerous troubles.  Yet up to this moment the lad had not caught
sight of Red; and now he had lost the scoundrel through the
laxity of a policeman.
There was no use "crying over spilled milk," as Phil
told himself.
The lad spent the next hour in tramping over the town where the
circus was to show that day.  He sought everywhere for Red,
but not a sign of the fellow was to be found.
As soon as the parade was over Phil hastened back to the lot to
acquaint Mr. Sparling with what he suspected.
"Do you know," said Phil, "I believe that fellow and his
companion are riding on one of our trains every night?"
"What?" exclaimed the showman.
"You'll find I'm right when the truth is known.  Then there's
something else.  There have been a lot of complaints about
sneak thieves in the towns we have visited since Red left us.
You can't tell.  There may be some connection between these
robberies and his following the show.  I'm going to get Larry
before I get through with this chase."
"Be careful, Phil.  He is a bad man.  You know what to expect
from him if he catches you again."
"I am not afraid.  I'll take care of myself if I see him coming.
The trouble is that Red doesn't go after a fellow that way."
Phil went on in his three acts as usual that afternoon,
after having spent an hour at the front door taking tickets,
to which task he had assigned himself soon after his talk with
Mr. Sparling.
It was instructive; it gave the boy a chance to see the people
and to get a new view of human nature.  If there is one place in
the world where all phases of human nature are to be found,
that place is the front door of a circus.
The Circus Boys, by this time, had both fitted into their new
acts as if they had been doing them for years--Phil doing the
bareback riding and Teddy tumbling in the leaping act, both lads
gaining the confidence and esteem more and more every day of
their fellow performers and the owner of the show.
That night, after the performance was ended, Phil stood around
for a time, watching the men at work pulling down the tent.
He had another motive, too.  He had thought that perchance he
might see something of the man he was in search of, for no better
time could be chosen to do damage to circus property than when
the canvas was being struck.
Then everyone was too busy to pay any attention to anyone else.
Teddy had gone on to pay his usual evening visit to the
accommodation car and at the same time make miserable the
existence of the worthy who presided over that particular car.
Phil waited until nearly twelve o'clock; then, deciding that it
would be useless to remain there longer, turned his footsteps
toward the railroad yards, for he was tired and wanted to get to
bed as soon as possible.
He found the way readily, having been over to the car once during
the morning while out looking for Red Larry.  The night was very
dark, however, and the yards, at the end from which he approached
them, were enshrouded in deep shadows.
On down the tracks Phil could see the smoking torches where the
men were at work running the heavy cages and canvas wagons up on
the flat cars.  Men were shouting and yelling, the usual
accompaniment to this proceeding, while crowds of curious
villagers were massed about the sides of the yard at that point,
watching the operations.
"That's the way I used to sit up and watch the circus get out
of town," mused Phil, grinning broadly, as he began hunting for
the sleeper where his berth was.
All at once the lights seemed to disappear suddenly from before
his eyes.  Phil felt himself slowly settling to the ground.
He tried to cry out, but could not utter a sound.
Then the lad understood that he was being grasped in a
vise-like grip.  That was the last he knew.
When Phil finally awakened he was still in deep,
impenetrable darkness.  The train was moving rapidly,
but there seemed to the boy to be something strange and
unusual in his surroundings.  His berth felt hard and unnatural.
For a time he lay still with closed eyes, trying to recall what
had happened.  There was a blank somewhere, but he could not
"Funny!  This doesn't seem like No. 11.  If it is, we must be
going over a pretty rough stretch of road."
He put out both hands cautiously and groped about him.
Phil uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"Good gracious, I'm on the floor.  I must have fallen out of
Then he realized that this could not be the case, because there
was a carpet on the floor of No. 11.
This was a hard, rough floor on which he was lying, and the air
was close, very different from that in the well-kept sleeping car
in which he traveled nightly from stand to stand.
In an effort to get to his feet the lad fell back heavily.
His head was swimming dizzily, and how it did ache!
"I wonder what has happened?" Forrest thought out loud.  "Maybe I
was struck by a train.  No; that couldn't be the case, or I
should not be here.  But where am I?  I might be in one of
the show cars, but I don't believe there is an empty car on
As soon as Phil felt himself able to sit up he searched
through his pockets until he found his box of matches, which he
always carried now, as one could not tell at what minute they
might be needed.
Striking a light, he glanced quickly about him; then the match
"I'm in a freight car," he gasped.  "But where, where?"
There was no answer to this puzzling question.  Phil struggled to
his feet, and, groping his way to the door, began tugging at it
to get it open.  The door refused to budge.
"Locked!  It's locked on the outside!  What shall I do?
What shall I do?" he cried.
Phil sat down weak and dizzy.  There was nothing, so far as
he could see, that could be done to liberate himself from
his imprisonment.  Chancing to put his hand to his head,
he discovered a lump there as large as a goose egg.
"I know--let me think--something--somebody must have hit me an
awful crack.  Now I remember--yes, I remember falling down in the
yard there just as if something had struck me.  Who could have
done such a cruel thing?"
Phil thought and thought, but the more he thought about it the
more perplexed did he become.  All at once he started up,
with a sudden realization that the train was slowing down.
He could hear the air brakes grating and grinding and squealing
against the car wheels below him, until finally the train came to
a dead stop.
"Now is my chance to make somebody hear," Phil cried, springing
up and groping for the door again.
He shouted at the top of his voice, then beat against the heavy
door with fists and feet, but not a sign could he get that anyone
As a matter of fact, no one was near him at that moment.  The
freight train had stopped at a water tank far out in the country,
and the trainmen were at the extreme ends of the train.
In a few moments the train started with such a jerk that Forrest
was thrown off his feet.  He sprang up again, hoping that the
train might be going past a station there, and that someone might
hear him.  Then he began rattling at and kicking the door again.
It was all to no purpose.
Finally, in utter exhaustion, the lad sank to the floor, soon
falling into a deep sleep.  How long he slept he did not know
when at last he awakened.
"Why, the train has stopped," Forrest exclaimed, suddenly sitting
up and rubbing his eyes.  "Now I ought to make somebody hear me
because it's daylight.  I can see the light underneath the door.
I'll try it again."
He did try it, hammering at the door and shouting at intervals
during the long hours that followed.  Once more he lighted
matches and began examining his surroundings with more care.
Phil discovered a trap door in the roof, but it was closed.
"If only there were a rope hanging down, I'd be up there in no
he mused.  I wonder if I couldn't climb up and hang to the
I might reach it in that way.  I'm going to try it."
Deciding upon this, the Circus Boy, after no little effort,
succeeded in climbing up to one of the side braces in the car.
>From the plates long, narrow beams extended across the car, thus
supporting the roof.  Choosing two that led along near the trap,
Phil, after a few moments' rest, gripped one firmly in each hand
from the underside and began swinging himself along almost as if
he were traveling on a series of traveling rings, but with
infinitely more effort and discomfort.
His hands were aching frightfully, and he knew that he could hold
on but a few seconds longer.
"I've got to make it," he gasped, breathing hard.
At last he had reached the goal.  Phil released one hand and
quickly extended it to the trap door frame.
There was not a single projection there to support him,
nor to which he might cling.  His hand slipped away, suddenly
throwing his weight upon the hand grasping the roof timber.
The strain was too much.  Phil Forrest lost his grip and fell
heavily to the floor.
But this time he did not rise.  The lad lay still where he
THE BARNYARD CIRCUS
When next Phil opened his eyes he was lying on the grass
on the shady side of a freight car with someone dashing water
in his face, while two or three others stood around gazing at
him curiously.
"Whe--where am I?" gasped the boy.
"I reckon you're lucky to be alive," laughed the man who had been
soaking him from a pail of water.  "Who be ye?"
"My name is Phil Forrest."
"How'd ye git in that car?  Stealing a ride, eh?  Reckon we'd
better hand ye over to the town constable.  It's again the law to
steal rides on freight trains."
"I've not stolen a ride.  It's no such thing," protested
Phil indignantly.
"Ho, ho, that's a rich one!  Paid yer fare, hey?  Riding like a
gentleman in a side-door Pullman.  Good, ain't it, fellows?"
"Friends, I assure you I am not a tramp.  Someone assaulted me
and locked me in that car last night.  I've got money in my
pocket to prove that I am not a tramp."
The lad thrust his hands into his trousers' pockets, then a blank
expression overspread his face.  Reaching to his vest to see if
his watch were there, he found that that, too, was missing.
"I've been robbed," he gasped.  "That's what it was.
Somebody robbed and threw me into this car last night.
See, I've got a lump on my head as big as a man's fist."
"He sure has," agreed one of the men.  "Somebody must a given him
an awful clout with a club."
"What town is this, please?"
"Mexico, Missouri."
"How far is it from St. Joseph?"
"St. Joseph?  Why, I reckon St. Joe is nigh onto a hundred and
fifty miles from here."
Phil groaned.
"A hundred and fifty miles and not a cent in my pocket!
What shall I do?  Can I send a telegram?  Where is the station?"
"Sunday.  Station closed."
"Sunday?  That's so."
Phil walked up and down between the tracks rather unsteadily,
curiously observed by the villagers.  They had heard his groans
in the freight car on the siding as they passed, and had quickly
liberated the lad.
"Do you think I could borrow enough money somewhere here to get
me to St. Joseph?  I would send it back by return mail."
The men laughed long and loud.
"What are you in such a hurry to get to St. Joe for?" demanded
the spokesman of the party.
"Because I want to get back to the circus."
"Circus?" they exclaimed in chorus.
"Yes.  I belong with the Sparling Combined Shows.  I was on my
way to my train, in the railroad yards, when I was knocked out
and thrown into that car."
"You with a circus?"  The men regarded him in a new light.
"Yes; why not?"
This caused them to laugh.  Plainly they did not believe him.
Nor did Phil care much whether they did or not.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Church time."
He knew that, for he could hear the bells ringing off in the
village to the east of them.
"I'll tell you what, sirs; I have got to have some breakfast.
If any of you will be good enough to give me a meal I shall be
glad to do whatever you may wish to pay for it.  Then, if I
cannot find the telegraph operator, I shall have to stay over
until I do."
"What do you want the telegraph man for?"
"I want to wire the show for some money to get back with.
I've got to be there tomorrow, in time for the show.  I must do
it, if I have to run all the way."
The men were impressed by his story in spite of themselves;
yet they were loath to believe that this slender lad, much the
worse for wear, could belong to the organization he had named.
"What do you do in the show?"
"I perform on the flying rings, ride the elephant and ride
bareback in the ring.  What about it?  Will one of you put
The villagers consulted for a moment; then the spokesman turned
"I reckon, if you be a circus feller, you kin show us some
tricks, eh?"
"Perform for you, you mean?"
"Well, I don't usually do anything like that on Sunday," answered
the Circus Boy reflectively.
"Eat on Sunday, don't you?"
"When I get a chance," Phil grinned.  "I guess your argument
I've got to eat and I have offered to earn my meal.  What do you
want me to do?"
"Kin you do a flip?"
Phil threw himself into a succession of cartwheels along the edge
of the railroad tracks, ending in a backward somersault.
"And you ride a hoss without any saddle, standing up on his
back--you do that, too?"
"Why, yes," laughed Phil, his face red from his exertion.
"Then, come along.  Come on, fellers!"
Phil thought, of course, that he was being taken to the man's
home just outside the village, where he would get his breakfast.
He was considerably surprised, therefore, when the men passed the
house that his acquaintance pointed out as belonging to himself,
and took their way on toward a collection of farm buildings some
distance further up the road.
"I wonder what they are going to do now?" marveled Phil.
"This surely doesn't look much like breakfast coming my way,
and I'm almost famished."
The leader of the party let down the bars of the farmyard,
conducting his guests around behind a large hay barn, into an
enclosed space, in the center of which stood a straw stack,
the stack and yard being surrounded by barns and sheds.
"Where are you fellows taking me?  Going to put me in the stable
with the live stock?" questioned Phil, laughingly.
"You want some breakfast, eh?"
"Certainly I do, but I'm afraid I can't eat hay."
The men laughed uproariously at this bit of humor.
"Must be a clown," suggested one.
"No, I am not a clown.  My little friend who performs with me,
and comes from the same town I do, is one.  I wish he were here.
He would make you laugh until you couldn't stand without leaning
against something."
"Here, Joe!  Here, Joe!" their guide began calling in a loud
voice, alternating with loud whistling.
Phil heard a rustling over behind the straw stack, and then out
trotted a big, black draft horse, a heavy-footed, broad-backed
Percheron, to his astonishment.
"My, that's a fine piece of horse flesh," glowed the lad.
"We have several teams of those fellows for the heavy work with
the show.  Of course we don't use them in the ring.  Is this what
you brought me here to see?"
"Yep.  Git up there."
"What do you mean?"
"Git up and show us fellers if you're a real circus man."
"You mean you want me to ride him?" said Phil.
"Sure thing."
"Git on his back and do one of them bareback stunts you was
telling us about," and the fellow winked covertly at his
companions, as much as if to say, "we've got him going
"What; here in this rough yard?"
Phil considered for a moment, stamping about on the straw-covered
ground, then sizing up the horse critically.
"All right.  Bring me a bridle and fasten a long enough rein to
the bit so I can get hold of it standing up."
He was really going to do as they demanded.  The men were
They had not believed he could, and now, at any rate, he was
to make an effort to make good his boast.
A bridle was quickly fetched and slipped on the head of old Joe.
In place of reins the farmer attached a rope to the bridle,
Phil measuring on the back of the horse to show how long it
should be cut.
The preparations all complete, Phil grasped the rein and
vaulted to the high back of the animal, landing astride neatly.
This brought an exclamation of approval from the audience.
"Now git up on your feet."
"Don't be in a hurry.  I want to ride him around the stack a few
times to get the hang of the ring," laughed Phil.  "It's a good,
safe place to fall, anyway.  Do I get some breakfast after
this exhibition?" he questioned.
"That depends.  Go on."
"Gid-dap!" commanded Phil, patting the black on its powerful
Then they went trotting around the stack, the men backing off to
get a better view of the exhibition.
On the second round Phil drew up before them.
"Got any chalk on the place?" he asked.
"Reckon there's some in the barn."
"Please fetch it."
They did not know what he wanted chalk for, but the owner of
the place hurried to fetch it.  In the meantime Phil was slowly
removing his shoes, which he threw to one side of the yard.
Bidding the men break up the chalk into powder, he smeared the
bottoms of his stockings with the white powder, sprinkling a
liberal supply on the back of the horse.
"Here, here!  What you doing?  I have to curry that critter down
every morning," shouted the owner.
Phil grinned and clucked to the horse, whose motion he had caught
in his brief ride about the stack, and once more disappeared
around the pile.  When he hove in sight again, the black was
trotting briskly, with Phil Forrest standing erect, far back on
the animal's hips, urging him along with sharp little cries, and
dancing about as much at home as if he were on the solid ground.
The farmers looked on with wide-open mouths, too amazed to speak.
Phil uttered a shout, and set the black going about the
stack faster and faster, throwing himself into all manner of
artistic positions.
After the horse had gotten a little used to the strange work,
Phil threw down the reins and rode without anything of the sort
to give him any support.
Probably few farm barnyards had ever offered an attraction like
"Come up here!" cried the lad, to the lighter of the men.
"I'll give you a lesson."
The fellow protested, but his companions grabbed him and threw
him to old Joe's back.  Phil grabbed his pupil by the coat
collar, jerking him to his feet and started old Joe going at a
lively clip.
You should have heard those farmers howl, at the ludicrous sight
of their companion sprawling all over the back of the black, with
Phil, red-faced, struggling with all his might to keep the fellow
on, and at the same time prevent himself taking a tumble!
At last the burden was too much for Phil, and his companion took
an inglorious tumble, head first into the straw at the foot of
the stack, while the farmers threw themselves down, rolling about
and making a great din with their howls of merriment.
"There, I guess I have earned my breakfast," decided the lad,
dropping off near the spot where he had cast his shoes.
"You bet you have, little pardner.  You jest come over to the
house and fill up on salt pork and sauerkraut.  You kin stay all
summer if you want to.  Hungry?"
"So hungry that, if my collar were loose, it would be falling
down over my feet," grinned the lad.
WHEN THE CRASH CAME
There was rejoicing on the part of his fellows, and relief in
the heart of Mr. Sparling when, along toward noon next day,
Phil Forrest came strolling on the circus lot at St. Joseph.
His friends, the farmers, had not only given him food and
lodging, but had advanced him enough money for his fare through
to join the show.  His first duty was to get some money from
Mr. Sparling and send it back to his benefactors.
This done, Phil repaired to the owner's tent where he knew Mr.
Sparling was anxiously waiting to hear what had happened to him.
Phil went over the circumstances in detail, while Mr. Sparling
listened gravely at first, then with rising color as his
anger increased.
"It's Red Larry!" decided Mr. Sparling, with an emphasizing blow
of his fist on the desk before him.
"After I thought the matter over that was what I decided--I mean
that was the decision I came to."
"Right.  Another season I'll have an officer with this show.
That's the only way we can protect ourselves."
"Do all the big shows carry an officer?" asked Phil.
"Yes; they have a detective with them--not a tin badge detective,
but a real one.  Don't try to go out today.  Get your dinner and
rest up for the afternoon performance.  I think you had better go
to the train in my carriage tonight.  I'm not going to take any
more such chances with you."
"I'll look out for myself after this, Mr. Sparling," laughed
"I think it was only two days ago that I said I wasn't afraid of
Larry--that he couldn't get me.  But he did."
That afternoon, as Phil related his experiences to the dressing
tent, he included the barnyard circus, which set the performers
Phil felt a little sore and stiff after his knockout and his
long ride in the freight car; but, after taking half an hour of
bending exercises in the paddock, he felt himself fit to go on
with his ring and bareback acts.
Both his acts passed off successfully, as did the Grand Entry in
which he rode old Emperor.
That night, after the performance, Phil hurried to the train,
but kept a weather eye out that he might not be assaulted again.
He found himself hungry, and, repairing to the accommodation car
for a lunch, discovered Teddy stowing away food at a great rate.
"So you're here, are you?" laughed Phil.
"Yep; I live here most of the time," grinned Teddy.  "They like
to have me eat here.  I'm a sort of nest egg, you know.  It makes
the others hungry to see me eat, and they file in in a
perfect procession.  How's your head?"
"Still a size too large," answered Phil, sinking down on a stool
and ordering a sandwich.
As the lads ate and talked two or three other performers came in,
whereupon the conversation became more general.
All at once there came a bang as a switching engine bumped into
the rear of their car.  Teddy about to pass a cup of steaming
coffee to his lips, spilled most of it down his neck.
"Ouch!" he yelled, springing up, dancing about the floor,
holding his clothes as far from his body as possible.  "Here, you
quit that!" he yelled, poking his head out of a window.  "If you
do that again I'll trim you with a pitcher of coffee and see how
you like that."
Once more the engine smashed into them, having failed to make the
coupling the first time.
Teddy sat down heavily in the middle of the car, just as Little
Dimples tripped in.  In one hand he held a sandwich half
consumed, while with the other he was still stretching his collar
as far from his neck as it would go.
"Why, Teddy," exclaimed Dimples, "what are you doing on the
"Eating my lunch.  Always eat it sitting on the floor, you know,"
growled the boy, at which there was a roar from the others.
"What are they trying to do out there?" questioned Phil.
"Going to shift us about on another track, I guess.  I was nearly
thrown down when I tried to get on the platform.  I never saw a
road where they were so rough.  Did you?"
"Yes; I rode on one the other night that could beat this,"
grinned Phil.
A few minutes later the car got under motion, pushed by a
switching engine, and began banging along merrily over switches,
tearing through the yard at high speed.
"We seem to be in a hurry 'bout something," grunted Teddy.
"Maybe they've hooked us on the wrong train, and we're bound for
somewhere else."
"No, I don't think so," replied Phil.  "You should be used to
this sort of thing by this time."
"I don't care as long as the food holds out.  It doesn't make any
difference where they take us."
"What section does this car go out on tonight, steward?"
questioned Phil.
"The last.  Goes out with the sleepers."
"That explains it.  They are shifting us around, making up the
last section and to get us out of the way of section No. 2.
I never can keep these trains straight in my mind, they change
them so frequently.  But it's better than riding in a canvas
wagon over a rough country road, isn't it, Teddy?"
"Worse," grunted the lad.  "You never know when you're going to
get your everlasting bump, and you don't have any net to fall in
when you do.  Hey, they're at it again!"
His words were almost prophetic.
There followed a sudden jolt, a deafening crash, accompanied by
cries from the cooks and waiters at the far end of the car.
"Get a net!" howled Teddy.
"We're off the rails," cried the performers.
"Look out for yourselves!"
Little Dimples was hurled from her stool at the lunch counter,
and launched straight toward a window from which the glass was
showering into the car.
Phil made a spring, catching her in his arms.  But the impact
and the jolt were too much for him.  He went down in a heap,
Little Dimples falling half over him.
He made a desperate grab for her, but the woman's skirts
slipped through his hand and she plunged on toward the far end
"Look out for the coffee boiler."
A yell from a waiter told them that the warning had come
too late.  The man had gotten a large part of the contents
of the boiler over him.
But all at once those in the car began to realize that something
else was occurring.  Somehow, they could feel the accommodation
car wavering as if on the brink of a precipice.  Then it began to
settle slowly and the mystified performers and car hands thought
it was going to rest where it was on the ties.
Instead, the car took a sudden lurch.
"We're going over something!" cried a voice.
Phil, who had scrambled quickly to his feet, half-dazed from the
fall, stood irresolutely for a few seconds then began making his
way toward where Little Dimples had fallen.
At that moment young Forrest was hurled with great force against
the side of the car.  Everything in the car seemed suddenly to
have become the center of a miniature cyclone.  Dishes, cooking
utensils, tables and chairs were flying through the air, the
noise within the car accompanied by a sickening, grinding series
of crashes from without.
Groans were already distinguishable above the deafening crashes.
Those who were able to think realized that the accommodation car
was falling over an embankment of some sort.
Through accident or design, what is known as a "blind switch" had
been turned while the engine was shunting the accommodation car
about the yards.  The result was that the car had left the rails,
bumped along on the ties for a distance, then had toppled over an
embankment that was some twenty feet high.
It seemed as if all in that ill-fated car must be killed or
maimed for life.  A series of shrill blasts from the engine
called for help.
The crash had been heard all over the railroad yards.
Railroad men and circus men had rushed toward the spot where
the accommodation car had gone over the embankment, Mr. Sparling
among the number.  He had just arrived at the yards when the
accident occurred.
Fortunately, the wrecking crew was ready for instant service,
and these men were rushed without an instant's delay to the
outskirts of the yard where the wreck had occurred.
However, ere the men got there a startling cry rose from hundreds
"Fire!  The car is on fire!"
"Break in the doors!  Smash the sides in!"
Yet no one seemed to have the presence of mind to do anything.
Phil had been hurled through a broken widow, landing halfway down
the bank, on the uphill side of the car, else he must have been
crushed to death.  But so thoroughly dazed was he that he was
unable to move.
Finally someone discovered him and picked him up.
"Here's one of them," announced a bystander.  "It's a kid, too."
Mr. Sparling came charging down the bank.
"Who is it?  Where is he?" he bellowed.
"It's Phil Forrest," cried one of the showmen, recognizing the
lad, whose face was streaked where it had been cut by the jagged
glass in the broken window.
"Is he killed?"
"No; he's alive.  He's coming around now."
Phil sat up and rubbed his eyes.
All at once he understood what had happened.  He staggered to his
feet holding to a man standing beside him.
"Why don't you do something?" cried Phil.  "Don't you know there
are people in that car?"
"It's burning up.  Nobody dares get in till the wreckers can get
here and smash in the side of the car," was the answer.
"What?" fairly screamed Phil Forrest.  "Nobody dares go in
that car?  Somebody does dare!"
"Come back, come back, Phil!  You can't do anything," shouted a
fellow performer.
But the lad did not even hear him.  He was leaping, falling
and rolling down the bank, regardless of the danger that he was
approaching, for the flames already showed through a broken spot
in the roof of the car, which was lying half on its side at the
foot of the embankment.
Without an instant's hesitation Phil, as he came up alongside,
raised a foot, smashing out the remaining pieces of glass in
a window.  Then he plunged in head first.
The spectators groaned.
"Dimples!  Dimples!" he shouted.  "Are you alive?"
"Yes, here.  Be quick!  I'm pinned down!"
Phil rushed to her assistance.  Her legs were pinioned beneath
a heavy timber.  Phil attacked it desperately, tugging and
grunting, the perspiration rolling down his face, for the heat
in there was now almost more than he could bear.
With a mighty effort he wrenched the timber from the prostrate
woman, then quickly gathered her up in his arms.
"I knew you'd come, Phil, if you were alive," she breathed,
her head resting on his shoulder.
"Do you know where Teddy is?" he asked, plunging through the
blinding smoke to the window where voices already were calling
"At the other end--I think," she choked.
The lad passed her out to waiting arms.
"Come out!  Come out of that!" bellowed the stentorian voice of
Mr. Sparling.  But Phil had turned back.
"Teddy!" he called, the words choked back into his throat by the
suffocating smoke.
"Wow!  Get me out of here.  I'm--I'm," then the lad went off into
a violent fit of coughing.
By this time two others, braver than the rest, had climbed in
through the window.
"Where are they all?" called a voice.
"I don't know.  You'll have to hunt for them.  I'm after you,
Are you held down by something, too?"
"The whole car's on me, and I'm burning up."
Phil, guided by the boy's voice, groped his way along and soon
found his hands gripped by those of his little companion.
"Where are you fast?"
It proved an easy matter to liberate Teddy and drag him to the
window, where Phil dumped him out.
Mr. Sparling had climbed in by this time, and the wrecking crew
were thundering at the roof to let the smoke and flames out,
while others had crawled in with their fire extinguishers.
There were now quite a number of brave men in the car all working
with desperate haste to rescue the imprisoned circus people.
"All out!" bellowed the foreman of the wrecking crew.  "The roof
will be down in a minute!"
"All out!" roared Mr. Sparling, himself making a dash for
Others piled out with a rush, the flames gaining very rapid
headway now.
"Phil!  Phil!  Where's Forrest?" called Mr. Sparling.
"He isn't here.  Maybe--"
"Then he's in that car.  He'll be burned alive!  No one can live
five minutes in there now!"
The fire department had arrived on the scene, and the men were
running two lines of hose over the tracks.
"Phil in there?"
It was a howl--a startled howl rather than a spoken question.
The voice belonged to Teddy Tucker.
Teddy rushed through the crowd, pushing obstructors aside,
and hurled himself through the window into the burning car.
He looked more like a big, round ball than anything else.
No sooner had Tucker landed fairly inside than he uttered a yell.
There was no answer.
Teddy went down like a flash, bowled over by a heavy stream of
water from the firemen's hose.
As it chanced he fell prone across a heap of some sort,
choking and growling with rage at what had befallen him.
"Yes," answered a voice from the heap.
"I've got him!" howled Teddy, springing up and dragging the
half-dazed Phil Forrest to the window.  There both boys were
hauled out, Teddy and Phil collapsing on the embankment from
the smoke that they had inhaled.
"Phil!  Teddy!" begged Mr. Sparling, throwing himself
beside them.
"Get a net!" muttered Teddy, then swooned.
CHAPTER XXII
WHAT HAPPENED TO A PACEMAKER
"Find out how that car came to tumble off," were the first words
Phil uttered after they had restored him to consciousness.
Teddy, however, was bemoaning the loss of the sandwich that he
had bought but had not eaten.
"The accident shall be investigated by me personally before
this section leaves the yard," said Mr. Sparling.  "I am glad
you suggested it, Phil.  How do you feel?"
"I am all right.  Did somebody pull me out?"
"Yes, Teddy did.  You are a pair of brave boys.  I guess this
outfit knows now the stuff you two are made of, if it never did
before," glowed Mr. Sparling.
"How many were killed?"
"None.  The head steward has a broken leg, one waiter a few ribs
smashed in, and another has lost a finger.  I reckon the railroad
will have a nice bill of damages to pay for this night's work.
Were you in the car when it occurred?"
"Yes.  They had been handling it rather roughly.  We spoke of it
at the time.  We were moving down the yard when suddenly one end
seemed to drop right off the track as if we had come to the end
Mr. Sparling nodded.
"I'll go into it with the railroad people at once.  You two get
into your berths.  Can you walk?"
"How about you, Tucker,"
"I can creep all right.  I learned to do that when I was in
long pants."
"I guess you mean long dresses," answered the showman.
"I guess I do."
The boys were helped to the sleeper, where they were put to bed.
Phil had been slightly burned on one hand while Teddy got what he
called "a free hair cut," meaning that his hair had been pretty
well singed.  Otherwise they were none the worse for their
experiences, save for the slight cuts Phil had received by
coming in contact with broken glass and some burns from the
coffee boiler.
They were quite ready to go to sleep soon after being put to bed,
neither awakening until they reached the next show town on the
following morning.
When the two lads pulled themselves up in their berths the sun
was well up, orders having been given not to disturb them.
"Almost seven o'clock, Teddy," cried Phil.
"Don't care if it's seventeen o'clock," growled Teddy.
"Lemme sleep."
"All right, but you will miss your breakfast."
That word "breakfast" acted almost magically on Tucker.
Instantly he landed in the middle of the aisle on all fours, and,
straightening up, began groping sleepily for his clothes.
Phil laughed and chuckled.
"How do you feel, Teddy?"
"Like a roast pig being served on a platter in the cook tent.
Do you need a net this morning?"
"No, I think not.  I'm rather sore where I got cut, but I guess
I am pretty fit otherwise."
After washing and dressing the lads set out across the fields
for the lot, which they could see some distance to the west of
the sidings, where their sleepers had been shifted.  Both were
hungry, for it is not an easy matter to spoil a boy's appetite.
Railroad wrecks will not do it in every case, nor did they
But, before the morning ended, the cook tent had seen more
excitement than in many days--in fact more than at any time so
far that season.
The moment Phil and Teddy strolled in, each bearing the marks of
the wreck on face and head everybody, except the Legless Man,
stood up.  Three rousing cheers and a tiger for the Circus Boys,
were given with a will, and then the lads found themselves the
center of a throng of performers, roustabouts and freaks all of
whom showered their congratulations on the boys for their heroism
in saving other's lives at the risk of their own.
Little Dimples was not one whit behind the others.  She praised
them both, much to Phil's discomfiture and Teddy's pleasure.
"Teddy, you are a hero after all," she beamed.
"Me?  Me a hero?" he questioned, pointing to himself.
"Yes, you.  I always knew you would be if you had half a chance.
Of course Phil had proved before that he was."
Teddy threw out his chest, thrusting both hands in his
trousers pockets.
"Oh, I don't know.  It wasn't so much.  How'd you get out?"
"Your friend, Phil, here, is responsible for my not being in the
freak class this morning.  There's Mr. Sparling beckoning to you.
I think he wants you both."
The boys walked over as soon as they could get away from
the others.  That morning they sat at the executive table
with the owner of the show, his wife and the members of
Mr. Sparling's staff.
For once Teddy went through a meal with great dignity,
as befitted one who was in the hero class.
"What happened to cause the wreck last night?" asked Phil,
turning to his host of the morning at the first opportunity.
"The car went off over a blind switch that had been opened."
"Ah, that's the question."
"Perhaps one of the railroad men opened it by mistake,"
suggested Teddy.  "Nobody else would have a key."
"You'll find no railroad man made that blunder," replied Phil.
"No!  While the railroad is responsible for the damages,
I hardly think they are for the wreck.  No key was used to open
the switch."
"How, then?"
"The lock was wrenched off with an iron bar and the switch
wedged fast, so there could be no doubt about what would happen.
It might have happened to some other car not belonging to us,
though it was a pretty safe gamble that it would catch one
"I thought as much," nodded Phil.  "But perhaps its just as
"What do you mean by that?" questioned the showman sharply.
"That the railroad folks will do what the police are too lazy
"Get after the fellow who did it," suggested Phil wisely.
"That's so!  That's so!  I hadn't thought of it in that
light before.  You've got a long head, my boy.  You always
have had, for that matter as long as I have known you, so it
stands to reason that you must always have been that way."
Teddy, having finished his breakfast, excused himself and
strolled off to another part of the tent where he might find
more excitement.  He sat down in his own place near the freak
table and began talking shop with some of the performers, while
Phil and Mr. Sparling continued their conversation.
"I haven't given up hopes of catching him myself, Mr. Sparling."
"You came pretty close to it Saturday night."
"And I wasn't so far from it last night either," laughed the boy.
"Going to be able to save the accommodation car?"
"No, it's a hopeless wreck."
"You probably will not put on another this season then?"
"What would you suggest?"
"I should not think it would be advisable.  Most of the people go
downtown, anyway, to get their lunch after the show."
"Exactly.  That's the way it appeared to me, but I wanted to get
your point of view."  It was not that the owner had not made up
his mind, but that he wanted to get Phil Forrest's mind working
from the point of view of the manager and owner of a circus,
seeing in Phil, as he did, the making of a future great showman.
All at once their conversation was disturbed by a great uproar at
the further end of the tent, near where Teddy sat.
Two midgets, arguing the question as to which of them was the
Smallest Man in the World, had become so heated that they fell to
pummeling each other with their tiny fists.
Instantly the tent was in confusion, and with one accord
the performers and freaks gathered around to watch the
miniature battle.
A waiter in his excitement, stepped in a woodchuck hole, spilling
a bowl of steaming hot soup down the Fat Woman's neck.
"Help!  Help!  I'm on fire!" she shrieked.
Teddy, now that he had become a hero, felt called upon to hurry
to the rescue.  Seizing a pitcher of ice water, he leaped over a
bench and dumped the contents of the pitcher over the head of the
Fattest Woman on Earth.  Several chunks of ice, along with a
liberal quantity of the water, slid down her neck.
This was more than human flesh could stand.  The Fat Woman
staggered to her feet uttering a series of screams that might
have been heard all over the lot, while those on the outside
came rushing in to assist in what they believed to be a
serious disturbance.
Mr. Sparling pushed his way through the crowd, roaring out
command after command, but somehow, the ring about the Fat Woman
and the fighting midgets did not give way readily.  The show
people were too much engrossed in the funny spectacle of the
midgets to wish to be disturbed.
Not so Teddy Tucker.
Having quenched the fire that was consuming the Fat Woman,
he pushed his way through the crowd, with the stern command,
"Stand aside here!" and fell upon the Lilliputian gladiators.
"Break away!" roared Teddy, grasping each by the collar and
giving him a violent tug.
What was his surprise when both the little men suddenly turned
upon him and started pushing and beating him.
Taken unawares, Teddy began to back up, to the accompaniment of
the jeers of the spectators.
The crowd howled its appreciation of the turn affairs had taken,
Teddy steadily giving ground before the enraged Lilliputians.
As it chanced a washtub filled with pink lemonade that had been
prepared for the thirsty crowds stood directly in the lad's path.
If anyone observed it, he did not so inform Teddy.
All at once the Circus Boy sat down in the tub of pink lemonade
with a loud splash, pink fluid spurting up in a veritable
fountain over such parts of him as were not already in the tub.
Teddy howled for help, while the show people shrieked with
delight, the lad in his efforts to get out of the tub, falling
back each time, until finally rescued from his uncomfortable
position by the owner of the show himself.
"That's what you get for meddling with other peoples' affairs,"
chided Phil, laughing immoderately as he observed the rueful
countenance of his friend.
"If I hadn't meddled with you last night, you'd have been a dead
one today," retorted the lad.  "Anyway, I've made a loud splash
this morning."
CHAPTER XXIII
SEARCHING THE TRAIN
Salt Lake City proved an unusual attraction to the Circus Boys,
they having read so much of it in story and textbooks.
Here they visited the great Mormon Temple.  During their two day
stand they made a trip out to the Great Salt Lake where Teddy
Tucker insisted in going in swimming.  His surprise was great
when he found that he could not swim at all in the thick,
salty water.
The trip over the mountains, through the wonderful scenery of the
Rockies and the deep canyons where the sunlight seldom reaches
was one of unending interest to them.
Most of the show people had been over this same ground with other
circuses many times before, for there are few corners of the
civilized world that the seasoned showman has not visited at
least once in his life.
It was all new to the Circus Boys, however, and in the long day
trips over mountain and plain, they found themselves fully
occupied with the new, entrancing scenes.
By this time both lads had become really finished performers in
their various acts, and they had gone on through the greater part
of the season without serious accident in their work.  Of course
they had had tumbles, as all showmen do, but somehow they managed
to come off with whole skins.
For a time after the wreck of the accommodation car the show had
no further trouble that could be laid at the door of Red Larry
or his partner.  However, after a few days, the reports of
burglaries in towns where the show exhibited became even
more numerous.
"We can't furnish police protection to the places we visit,"
answered Mr. Sparling, when spoken to about this.  "But, if ever
I get my hands on that red head, the fur will fly!"
Passing out of the state of Utah, a few stands were made in
Nevada, but the jumps were now long and it was all the circus
trains could do to get from stand to stand in time.  As it was,
they were not always able to give the parade, but the manager
made up for this by getting up a free show out in front of the
big top just before the afternoon and evening performances began.
Reno was the last town played in Nevada, and everyone breathed a
sigh of relief as the tents were struck and the show moved across
the line into California.  The difficulty of getting water for
man and beast had proved a most serious one.  At Reno, however,
a most serious thing had occurred, one that disturbed the owner
of the show very greatly.
Many of the guy ropes holding the big top, had been cut while the
performance was going on and most of the canvasmen and laborers
were engaged in taking down and loading the menagerie outfit.
A wind storm was coming up, but fortunately it veered off before
reaching Reno.  The severed ropes were not discovered until after
the show was over and the tent was being struck.  Mr. Sparling
had been quickly summoned.  After a careful examination of the
ropes he understood what had happened.  Phil, too, had discovered
one cut rope and the others, on his way from the dressing tent to
the front, after finishing his performance.
But there was nothing now that required his looking up
Mr. Sparling, in view of the fact that the canvas was already
coming down.  Yet after getting his usual night lunch in the
town, the lad strolled over to the railroad yards intending to
visit the manager as soon as the latter should have returned
from the lot.
The two met just outside the owner's private car, a short time
after the loading had been completed.
"Oh, I want to see you, Mr. Sparling, if you have the time."
"I've always time for that.  I was in hopes I would get a
chance to have a chat with you before we got started.  Will you
"Yes, thank you."
Entering the private car Mr. Sparling took off his coat and threw
himself into a chair in front of his roll-top desk.
"Phil, there's deviltry going on in this outfit again," he said
fixing a stern eye on the little Circus Boy.
Phil nodded.
"You don't seem to be very much surprised."
"I'm not.  I think I know what you mean."
"You do?  What for instance?"
"The cutting of those ropes tonight," smiled Phil.
"You know that?"
The lad nodded again, but this time with more emphasis.
"Is there anything that goes on in this outfit that you do not
know about?"
"Oh, I presume so.  If I hadn't chanced to walk over a place
where there should have been a guy rope I probably never should
have discovered what had been done."
"I'll bet you would," answered the owner, gazing at the
lad admiringly.
"It is fortunate for us that we did not have a wind storm during
the evening."
"Fortunate for the audience, I should say.  Nothing could have
held the tent with those ropes gone.  It showed that the cordage
had been cut by someone very familiar with the canvas.  Almost a
breath of wind would have caused the whole big top to collapse,
and then a lot of people might have been killed.  Well, the
season is almost at an end now.  If we are lucky we shall soon be
"All the more reason for getting the fellow at once,"
nodded Phil.
"After a few days we shall be closing, and then we shall not get
an opportunity."
"That's good logic.  I agree with you.  I shall be delighted
to place these hands of mine right on that fiend's throat.
But first, will you tell me how I am going to do it?
Haven't we been trying to catch him ever since those two
men were discharged?  Both of them are in this thing."
"I think you will find that there is only one now.  I believe
Larry is working alone.  I haven't any particular reason for
thinking this; it just sort of seems to me to be so."
"Any suggestions, Phil?  I'll confess that I am at my wits' end."
"Yes, I have been thinking of a plan lately."
"What is it?"
"Have the trains searched."
"You will remember my saying, sometime ago, that I believed the
fellow was still traveling with us and--"
"But how--where could he ride that he would not be sure
of discovery?" protested Mr. Sparling.
"He has friends with the show, that's how," answered
Phil convincingly.
"You amaze me."
"All the same, I believe you will find that to be the case."
"And you would suggest searching the trains?"
"Now.  No; I don't mean at this very minute.  I should suggest
that tomorrow morning, say at daybreak, you send men over this
entire train.  Don't let them miss a single corner where a man
might hide."
"Yes; but this isn't the only train in the show."
"I know.  At the first stop, or you might do it here before
we start, wire ahead to your other train managers to do the
same thing.  Tell them who it is you suspect.  You'll be able to
catch the squadron before they get in, though I do not believe
our man will be found anywhere on that train."
"The squadron went out before the guy ropes were cut."
"Great head!  Great head, Phil Forrest," glowed the manager.
"You're a bigger man than I am any day in the week.
Then, according to your reasoning, the fellow ought either
to be on this section or the one just ahead of it?"
"Yes.  But don't laugh at me if I don't happen to be right.
It's just an idea I have gotten into my head."
"I most certainly shall not laugh, my boy.  I am almost
convinced that you are right.  At least, the plan is well worth
carrying out.  I'll give the orders to the train managers before
"I would suggest that you tell them not to give the orders to the
men until ready to begin the search in the morning."
"Good!  Fine!" glowed the showman.
"I'm going to turn out and help search this section myself,"
said Phil.  "You know I have some interest in it, seeing that
it is my plan," he smiled.
"Better keep out of it," advised Mr. Sparling.  "You might fall
off from the cars.  You are not used to walking over the tops
"Oh, yes I am.  I have done it a number of times this season just
to help me to steady my nerves.  I can walk a swaying box car in
a gale of wind and not get dizzy."
Mr. Sparling held up his hands protestingly.
"Don't tell me any more.  I believe you.  If you told me you
could run the engine I'd believe you.  If there be anything you
don't know how to do, or at least know something about, I should
be glad to know what that something is."
"May I send your messages?" asked the lad.  "If you will write
them now I'll take them over to the station.  It must be nearly
starting time."
"Yes; it is.  No; I'll call one of the men."
Mr. Sparling threw up his desk and rapidly scribbled his
directions to the train managers ahead.  After that he sent
forward for the manager of their particular section, to whom he
confided Phil Forrest's plan, the lad taking part in the
discussion that followed.  The train manager laughed at the idea
that anyone could steal a ride on his train persistently without
being detected.
Mr. Sparling very emphatically told the manager that what he
thought about it played no part in the matter at all.  He was
expected to make a thorough search of the train."
"His search won't amount to anything" thought Phil shrewdly.
"I'll do the searching for this section and I'll find the fellow
if he is on board.  I hope I shall.  I owe Red Larry something,
and I'm anxious to pay the debt."
The train soon started, Phil bidding his employer good night,
went forward to No. 1 which was the forward sleeper on the train,
next to the box and flat cars.  He peered into Teddy Tucker's
berth, finding that lad sound asleep, after which he tumbled into
his own bed.
But Phil was restless.  He was so afraid that he would oversleep
that he slept very little during the night.
At the first streak of dawn he tumbled quietly from his berth,
and, putting on his clothes, stepped out to the front platform,
where he took a long breath of the fresh morning air.
The train was climbing a long grade in the Sierra Nevadas and the
car couplings were groaning under the weight put upon them.
Phil climbed to the top of the big stock car just ahead of him,
and sat down on the brake wheel.
Far ahead he saw several men going over the cars.
"They have not only begun the search but they are almost
through," muttered Phil.  "As I thought, they are not half
doing it.  I guess I'll take a hand."
Phil stood up, caught his balance and began walking steadily
over the top of the swaying car.  At the other end of the car he
opened the trap door which was used to push hay through for the
animals, examining its interior carefully.  There was no sign of
a stranger inside, nor did he expect to find any there.
"He'll be in a place less likely to be looked into," muttered the
lad starting on again and jumping down to a flat car just ahead.
CHAPTER XXIV
"There's somebody climbing over the train," called one of the
searchers to the train manager.
All hands turned, gazing off toward Phil.  He swung his hands
toward them, whereat they recognized the lad and went on about
"Wonder they saw even me!" grumbled the lad, moving slowly along.
It seemed almost impossible that one could hide on a train
like that.  Here and there men were sleeping under the wagons,
and Phil made it his business to get a look into the face of
each of them.  Not a man did he find who bore the slightest
resemblance to Red Larry or Bad Eye.
"It doesn't look very promising, I must say," he muttered,
jumping lightly from one flat car to another.
Phil had searched faithfully until finally he reached a "flat"
just behind that on which stood the great gilded band wagon.
Now, under its covering of heavy canvas, none of its gaudy
trimmings were to be seen.
Phil sat down on the low projection at the side of the flat car,
eyeing the band wagon suspiciously.
Somehow he could not rid himself of the impression that that
wagon would bear scrutiny.
"I'll bet they never looked into it.  Last year when we were a
road show, I remember how the men used to sleep in there and how
Teddy got thrown out when he walked on somebody's face," and Phil
laughed softly at the memory.  "I'm going to climb up there."
To do this was not an easy matter, for the band wagon seemed to
loom above him like a tent.  The canvas stretched over it,
extending clear down to the wheels, to which it was secured
by ropes.  The only way the Circus Boy could get up into the
wagon seemed to be to crawl under the canvas at the bottom and
gradually to work his way up.
"I'm going to try it," he decided all at once.  "Of course
they didn't look into it.  Maybe they are afraid they will
find someone.  Well, here goes!  If I fall off that will be the
last of me, but I am not going to fall.  I ought to be able to
climb by this time if I'm ever going to."
Phil got up promptly, glanced toward the long train that was
winding its way up the steep mountain, then stepped across
the intervening space between the two cars.  He wasted no time,
but immediately lifted the canvas and peered along the side of
He discovered that he would have to go to the forward end of it
in order to reach the top, because the steps were at that end.
There the canvas was drawn tighter, so the lad untied one of the
ropes, leaving one corner of the covering flapping in the breeze.
Cautiously and quietly he began climbing up, the wagon swaying
dizzily with the motion of the train, making it more and more
difficult to cling to it as he got nearer the top.  The air was
close, and soon after the boy began going up, the sun beat down
on the canvas cover suffocatingly.
Now he had reached the top.  High seats intervened between him
and the other end, so that he could not see far ahead of him.
Phil dropped down into the wagon and began creeping toward
He stumbled over some properties that had been stowed in the
wagon, making a great clatter.  Instantly there was a commotion
in the other end of the car.
Phil scrambled up quickly and crawled over the high seat ahead
of him.  As he did so he uttered an exclamation.  The red head of
Red Larry could be seen, his beady eyes peering over the back of
"I've got you this time, Red!" exulted Phil, clambering over the
seat in such a hurry that he fell in a heap on the other side
The lad seemed to have no sense that he was placing himself in
grave peril.  He had no fear in his makeup, and his every nerve
was centered on capturing the desperate, revengeful man who had
not only assaulted Phil, but who had caused so much damage to the
Sparling Shows.
"Don't you dare come near me, you young cub!" threatened Red,
as with rage-distorted face he suddenly whipped out a knife.
Phil picked up a club and started toward him.  The club happened
to be a tent stake.  Red observed the action, and crouching low
waited as the lad approached him.
"I'm going to get you, Red!  I'm not afraid of your knife.
You can't touch me with it because before you get the chance
I'm going to slam you over the head with this tent stake,"
grinned Phil Forrest.
Red snarled and showed his teeth.
"Oh, you needn't think you can get away.  The men are hunting for
you further up the train.  They'll be along here in a minute, and
then I reckon you'll be tied up and dumped into the lion cage,
though I don't think even a lion would eat such a mean hound as
Suddenly the man straightened up.  Now, he held something in his
hand besides the knife.  It was a stake.
Red drew back his arm, hurling the heavy stick straight at his
young adversary's head.  Phil, observing the movement let
drive his own tent stake, but having to throw so hurriedly, his
aim was poor.  Red Larry's aim, on the other hand was better.
Phil dodged like a flash.
Had he not done so the stake would have struck him squarely in
the face.  As it was the missile grazed the side of his head,
causing the lad to fall in a heap.
Red Larry hesitated only for a second, then leaping to the high
rear seat of the wagon drew his knife along the canvas above him,
opening a great slit in it.  Through the opening thus made he
peered cautiously.  What he saw evidently convinced him of the
truth of what Phil had just said.  Up toward the head of the
train the searchers were at work, and from what Red had heard he
realized they were looking for him.
Red did not delay a second.  He scrambled out through the canvas
just as Phil pulled himself to his feet.  The lad could see the
fellow's legs dangling through the canvas.
Phil uttered a yell, hurling himself wildly over the high-backed
seats in an effort to catch and hold the legs ere Red could
get out.  But Larry heard him coming, and quickly clambered down
the back of the wagon to the deck of the flat car.
Phil once more grabbed up his own tent stake as he stumbled back
through the wagon.
"I've got you!" yelled the boy as he pulled himself up through
the opening, observing Red standing hesitatingly on the flat car
with a frightened look in his eyes.
"Hi!  Hi!" cried Phil, turning and gesticulating wildly at the
men further up the train "I've got him!  Hurry!  I--"
Something sang by his head and dropped quivering in the canvas
beyond him.  It was the discharged tentman's knife which he had
aimed at Phil, his aim having been destroyed by a lurch of the
car, thus saving the Circus Boy's life.
"Want to kill me, do you?  I've got you now!  The men are coming.
Don't you dare move or I'll drop this stake on you.  I can't miss
you this time."
Red after one hesitating glance, faced the front and leaped from
the train down the long, sloping cinder-covered bank.
Phil let drive his tent stake.  It caught Red on the shoulder,
bowling the rascal over like a nine pin.
Phil Forrest uttered a yell of exultation, suddenly dropping to
the floor of the car at the imminent risk of his life.
The men were now piling over the cars in his direction.  He did
not know whether they had seen Red jump or not.  Phil did not
waste any time in idle speculation.
"Come on!" he shouted, springing to the edge of the car,
keeping himself from falling by grasping a wheel of the wagon.
Then Phil Forrest did a daring thing.  Crouching low,
choosing his time unerringly, he jumped from the train.
Fortunately for him, the cars were running slowly up the
heavy grade.  But, slowly as they were going, the lad turned
several rapid handsprings after having struck the ground,
coming to a stop halfway down the slope, somewhat dazed
from the shock and sudden whirling about.
But he was on his feet in a twinkling, and running toward the
spot where Red was painfully picking himself up.  Phil slipped
and stumbled as the cinders gave way beneath his feet but ran
on with a grim determination not to let his man escape him
Both were now weaponless, so far as the lad knew.  Red had
possessed a revolver, but in his sudden jump from the train he
had lost it, and there was now no time to look for it.
When he saw Phil pursuing, Larry started on a run, but the lad,
much more fleet of foot, rapidly overhauled him, despite the
handicap that Phil had at the start.
"You may as well give up!  I'm going to catch you, if I have to
run all the way across the Sierra Nevada Range," shouted Phil.
Red halted suddenly.  Phil thought he was going to wait for him,
but the lad did not slacken his speed a bit because of that.
All at once, as Phil drew near, Red picked up a stone and hurled
it at his pursuer.  Phil saw it coming in time to "duck," and it
was well he did so, for Larry's aim was good.
"He must have been a baseball pitcher at sometime," grinned
the lad.  However, the fellow continued to throw until Phil saw
that he must do something to defend himself else he would surely
be hit and perhaps put out of the race altogether.
"So that's your game is it?" shouted the boy.  "I can
play ball, too."
With that the lad coolly began hunting about for stones, of which
he gathered up quite an armful, choosing those that were most
nearly round.  In the meantime Red had kept up his bombardment,
Phil dodging the stones skillfully.  Then he too, began to throw,
gradually drawing nearer and nearer to his adversary.
A small stone caught Phil a glancing blow on the left shoulder
causing him to drop his ammunition.  He could scarcely repress a
cry, for the blow hurt him terribly.  He wondered if his shoulder
had not been broken, but fortunately he had received only a
severe bruise.
It served, however, to stir Phil to renewed activity.
Grabbing all the stones he could gather in one sweep of his
hands he started on a run toward Red Larry, letting one drive
with every jump.  They showered around the desperate man like a
rain of hail.
All at once Larry uttered a yell of pain and anger.  One of
Phil's missiles had landed in the pit of the fellow's stomach.
Larry doubled up like a jacknife, and, dropping suddenly, rolled
rapidly toward the foot of the slope.
Phil, still clinging to his weapons, ran as fast as his slender
legs would carry him in pursuit of his man.
"I hit him!  I hit him!" he yelled.
In a moment he came up with Larry, but the lad prudently stopped
a rod from his adversary to make sure that the fellow was not
playing him a trick.  One glance sufficed to tell Phil that the
man had really been hit.
"I hope he isn't much hurt, but I'm not going to take any
Phil jerked off his coat and began ripping it up, regardless of
the fact that it was his best.  With the strands thus secured, he
approached his prisoner cautiously, then suddenly jumped on him.
Larry was not able to give more than momentary resistance.
Inside of three minutes Phil had the fellow's hands tied securely
behind his back.  Gathering the stones about him in case of need,
the lad sat down and wiped the perspiration from his brow.
"I guess that about puts an end to your tricks, my fine fellow,"
announced Phil.
The train had been finally stopped, and a force of men now dashed
back along the tracks.  They had been in time to view the last
half of the battle of the stones, and when Red went down they set
up a loud triumphant yell.  In a few minutes they had reached the
scene and had taken the prisoner in tow.
The train was at the top of the grade waiting, so the show people
and their captive were obliged to walk fully a mile to reach it.
Mr. Sparling, attracted by the uproar, had rushed from his
private car.  He now met the party a little way down the tracks.
"I got him!" cried Phil, when he saw the owner approaching.
Red was carried to the next stop on the circus train.  He was
not much hurt and had fully recovered before noon of that day,
much to Phil's relief, for he felt very badly that he had been
obliged to resort to stone throwing.  The lad would have
preferred to use his fists.  But, as the result of the capture,
Red Larry was put where he would bother circus trains no more for
some years.  He was sentenced to a long term in prison.
The Great Sparling Shows moved on, playing in a few more
towns, and, one beautiful morning drew up at the city by the
Golden Gate.  There the circus remained for a week, when the show
closed for the season.  But the lads were a long way from home,
toward which they now looked longingly.
Mr. Sparling invited them to return with him in his private car
which was to cross the continent attached to regular passenger
trains, the show proper following at its leisure.
This invitation both boys accepted gladly, and during the trip
there were many long discussions between the three as to the
future of the Circus Boys.  They had worked hard during the
season and had won new laurels on the tanbark.  But they had not
yet reached the pinnacle of their success in the canvas-covered
arena, though each had saved, as the result of his season's work,
nearly twelve hundred dollars.
Phil and Teddy will be heard from again in a following volume
entitled: "THE CIRCUS BOYS IN DIXIE LAND; Or, Winning the
Plaudits of the Sunny South."  Here they are destined to meet
with some of the pleasantest as well as the most thrilling
experiences of their circus career, in which both have many
opportunities to show their grit and resourcefulness.
This Etext was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Greg Berckes
The Circus Boys In Dixie Land
Winning the Plaudits of the Sunny South
by Edgar B. P. Darlington
I      UNDER CANVAS AGAIN
II     IN THEIR HOME TOWN
III    THE CIRCUS MAKES A CALL
IV     A FRIENDLY AUDIENCE
V      TAKEN BY SURPRISE
VI     IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
VII    SHIVERS AND HIS SHADOW
VIII   A RIVAL IN THE FIELD
IX     PHIL MAKES A DISCOVERY
X      THE CIRCUS BOY IS RECOGNIZED
XI     ON SULLY'S PRIVATE CAR
XII    LOCKED IN THE LINEN CLOSET
XIII   THROUGH RINGS OF FIRE
XIV    A DASH FOR FREEDOM
XV     OUTWITTING THE PURSUERS
XVI    THE BATTLE OF THE ELEPHANTS
XVII   MONKEYS IN THE AIR
XVIII  TEDDY TAKES A DROP
XIX    THE CIRCUS ON AN ISLAND
XX     DISASTER BEFALLS THE FAT LADY
XXI    ON A FLYING TRAPEZE
XXII   IN A LIVELY BLOW-DOWN
XXIII  THE LION HUNT
XXIV   CONCLUSION
The Circus Boys in Dixie Land
UNDER CANVAS AGAIN
"I reckon the fellows will turn out to see us tomorrow
night, Teddy."
"I hope so, Phil.  We'll show them that we are real circus
performers, won't we?"
Phil Forrest nodded happily.
"They know that already, I think.  But we shall both feel proud
to perform in our home town again.  They haven't seen us in the
ring since the day we first joined the show two years ago, and
then it was only a little performance."
"Remember the day I did a stunt in front of the circus billboard
"And fell in the ditch, head first?  I remember it," and
Phil Forrest laughed heartily.
"You and I weren't circus men then, were we?"
"But we are now."
"I guess we are," nodded Phil with emphasis.  "Still, we have
something to learn yet.  We are a couple of lucky boys, you and
I, Teddy Tucker.  Had it not been for Mr. Sparling we might still
have been doing chores for our board in Edmeston."
"Instead, we are getting our envelopes with sixty dollars
apiece in them from the little red ticket wagon every Tuesday
morning, eh?"
"I never thought I'd be able to earn so much money as that in a
whole year," reflected Teddy.
"Do you think we'll get any more 'raises' this season?"
"I haven't the least idea that we shall.  You know our contracts
are signed for the season at sixty dollars a week.  That surely
should be enough to satisfy us.  We shall be able to save a whole
lot of money, this year; and, if we have good luck, in five years
more we'll be able to have a little show of our own."
Teddy agreed to this with a reflective nod.
"What kind of show?"
"Well, that remains to be seen," laughed Phil.  "We shall be
lucky to have most any kind."
"Do you know what sort I'd like to have?"
"No.  What kind?"
"Wild West show, a regular Buffalo Bill outfit, with wild
Indians, cowboys, bucking ponies and whoop!  whoop!  Hi-yi-yi!
Teddy's eyes were glowing with excitement, while a dull red glow
showed beneath the tan on his face.
"I wouldn't get so excited about it," answered Phil,
highly amused.
"How'd you like that kind?"
"Not at all.  It's too rough.  Give me the circus every time,
with its life, its color, it's--oh, pshaw!  What's the use
talking about it?  Is there anything in the world more attractive
than those tents over there, with the flags of every nation
flying from center and quarter poles?  Is there, Teddy?"
"Well, no; I guess that's right."
For a moment the lads were silent.  They were sitting beneath a
spreading maple tree off, on the circus lot, a few rods from
where the tents were being erected.  A gentle breeze was stirring
the flags, billowing the white canvas of the tents in slow,
undulating waves.
"And to think that we belong to that!  Do you know, sometimes I
think it is all a dream, and I'm afraid I shall suddenly wake up
to find myself back in Edmeston with Uncle Abner Adams driving me
out of the house with a stick."
Phil's face grew solemn as those unhappy days under his uncle's
roof came back to him in a flood of disquieting memories.
"Don't wake up, then," replied Teddy.
"I think perhaps we had better both wake up if we expect to get
any breakfast.  The red flag is flying on the cook tent, which
means that breakfast is ready--in fact, breakfast must be pretty
well over by this time.  First thing we know the blue flag will
suddenly appear in its place, and you and I will have to hustle
downtown for something to eat.  It will be parade time pretty
"Breakfast?  Say, Phil, I'd forgotten all about breakfast."
"There must be something wrong with you, then, if you forget when
it's meal time.  As for myself, I have an appetite that would put
the Bengal tiger to shame.  Come along."
"I'm with you.  I'll show you whether my appetite has a reef in
it or not.  I can eat more than the living skeleton can, and for
a thin man he's got anything stopped for appetite that I ever
saw," answered Teddy Tucker, scrambling to his feet and starting
for the cook tent.
Yes; Teddy Tucker and Phil Forrest are the same boys who, two
seasons before, began their circus career by joining a road show,
each in a humble capacity.  It will be remembered how in "THE
CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS," Teddy and Phil quickly rose to
be performers in the ring; how Phil, by his coolness and bravery,
saved the life of one of the performers at the imminent risk of
losing his own; how he saved the circus from a great pecuniary
loss, as well as distinguishing himself in various other ways.
In "THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT," the lads won new
laurels in their chosen career, when Phil became a bareback
rider, scoring a great hit at his first performance.  It will be
recalled too, how the circus lad proved himself a real hero at
the wreck of the dining car, saving the lives of several persons,
finally being himself rescued by his companion, Teddy Tucker.
The Great Sparling Combined Shows had been on the road a week,
and by this time the various departments had gotten down to
fairly good working order, for, no matter how perfect such an
organization may be, it requires several days for the show people
to become used to working together.  This extends even to the
canvasmen and roustabouts.  After being a few weeks out they are
able to set the tents in from half an hour to an hour less time
than it takes during the first two or three stands of the season.
The next stand was to be Edmeston, the home of the two
Circus Boys.  The lads were looking forward with keen
expectation to the moment when, clad in tights and spangles,
they would appear before their old school fellows in a
series of daring aerial flights.
The lads had spent the winter at school and now only one year
more was lacking to complete their course at the high school that
they had been attending between circus seasons, practicing in
their gymnasium after school hours.
"I'd like to invite all the boys of our class to come to the show
on passes.  Do you suppose Mr. Sparling would let me?"
"I am afraid you had better not ask him," laughed Phil.  "If you
were running a store do you think you would ask the crowd to come
over and help themselves to whatever they wanted?"
"Well, no-o."
"I thought not."
"But this is different."
"Not so much so.  It would be giving away seats that could be
sold and that probably will be sold.  No; I guess the boys had
better pay for their seats."
Teddy looked disappointed.
"Don't you think it is worth fifty cents to see us perform?"
queried Phil.
Teddy grinned broadly.  The idea appealed to him in a new light.
"That's so.  I guess it's worth more than fifty cents, at that.
I guess I don't care if they do have to pay, but I want them to
come to the show.  What do you suppose I've been working two
years for, if it wasn't to show off before the fellows?
Haven't you?"
"What then?"
"Why, what do you think?"
"I don't think.  It's too hot to think this morning."
"All right.  Wait till someday when the weather is cooler; then
think the matter over," laughed Phil, hurrying on toward where
breakfast was waiting for them in the cook tent.
The lads were performing the same acts in which they had
appeared the previous season; that is, doing the flying rings
as a team, while Phil was a bareback rider and Teddy a tumbler.
Something had happened to the bucking mule that Teddy had
ridden for two seasons, and the manager had reluctantly been
forced to take this act from his bill.
"I'm thinking of getting another mule for you, if we can pick up
such a thing," said Mr. Sparling at breakfast that morning.
Teddy's eyes twinkled.  He had in mind a surprise for the
manager, but was not quite ready to tell of his surprise yet.
All during the winter the lad had been working with a donkey that
he had picked up near Edmeston.  His training of the animal had
been absolutely in secret, so that none of his school fellows,
save Phil, knew anything about it.
"All right," answered Teddy carelessly.  "Wait till we get to
Edmeston and see what we can pick up there."
Mr. Sparling bent a shrewd, inquiring glance on the impassive
face of the Circus Boy.  If he suspected Teddy had something in
mind that he was not giving voice to, Mr. Sparling did not
mention it.  By this time he knew both boys well enough to form a
pretty clear idea when there was anything of a secret nature in
"We'll never get another mule like Jumbo," he sighed.
"Hope not," answered Teddy shortly.
" 'Cause, I don't want to break my neck this season, at least
not till after we've passed Edmeston and the fellows have
seen perform."
"So that's it, is it?"
"It is.  I'm going to show myself tomorrow, and I don't care who
"If I remember correctly you already have shown yourself pretty
thoroughly all the way across the continent."
"And helped fill the big top at the same time," added Teddy, with
a shrewd twinkle in his eyes.
Mr. Sparling laughed outright.
"I guess you have a sharp tongue this morning."
"I don't mean to have."
"It's all right.  I accept your apology.  What's this you say
about the fellows--whom do you mean?"
"He means our class at the high school," Phil informed
the showman.
"Oh, yes.  How many are there in the class?"
"Let me see--how many are there, Teddy?"
"Thirty or forty, not counting the fat boy who's the anchor in
the tug of war team.  If you count him there are five more."
"I presume they'll all be wanting to come to the show?"
questioned Mr. Sparling.
"Any fellow who doesn't come is no friend of mine."
"That's the way to talk.  Always have the interest of the show in
mind, and you'll get along," smiled the owner.
"We-e-l-l," drawled the lad.  "I wasn't just thinking about the
interest of the show.  I was thinking more about what a figure
I'd be cutting before the boys."
Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.
"You are honest at any rate, Master Teddy.  That's one thing
I like about you.  When you tell me a thing I do not have to
go about asking others to make sure that you have told me
"Why shouldn't I?  I'm not afraid of you."
"No; that's the worst of it.  I should like to see something you
really are afraid of."
"I know what he is afraid of," smiled Phil maliciously.
"What?" demanded Mr. Sparling.
"He is afraid of the woman snake charmer under the black top.
He's more afraid of her than he is of the snakes themselves.
Why, you couldn't get him to shake hands with her if you were
to offer him an extra year's salary.  There she is over there
now, Teddy."
Teddy cast an apprehensive glance at the freak table, where
the freaks and side show performers were laughing and chatting
happily, the Lady Snake Charmer sandwiched in between the
Metal-faced Man and Jo-Jo the Dog-faced Wonder.
"I've been thinking of an idea, Mr. Sparling," said Teddy by way
of changing the subject.
Phil glanced at him apprehensively, for Teddy's ideas were
frequently attended by consequences of an unpleasant nature.
"Along the usual line young man?"
"What is your idea?"
"I've been thinking that I should like to sign up as a dwarf for
the rest of the season and sit on the concert platform in the
menagerie tent.  It wouldn't interfere with my other
performance," said Teddy in apparent seriousness.
Mr. Sparling leaned back, laughing heartily.
"Why, you are not a dwarf."
"No-o-o.  But I might be."
"How tall are you?"
"A little more than five feet," answered the lad with a touch of
pride in his tone.
"You are almost a man.  Why, Teddy, you are a full twenty inches
taller than the tallest dwarf in the show."
Teddy nodded.
"Don't you see you could not possibly be a`dwarf?"
"Oh, yes, I could.  All the more reason why I could."
"What kind of a dwarf would you be, may I ask?"
"I could be the tallest dwarf on earth, couldn't I?" asked Teddy,
gazing at his employer innocently.
Everyone at the table broke out into a merry peal of laughter,
while Teddy Tucker eyed them sadly for a moment; then he too
added his laughter to theirs.
"If you were not already getting a pretty big salary for a kid,
I'd raise your salary for that," exploded Mr. Sparling.
"You can forget I'm getting so much, if you want to," suggested
Teddy humorously.
IN THEIR HOME TOWN
"Hey, Phil!"
"What is it, Teddy?"
"Wake up!  We are in the old town again."
Phil Forrest pulled aside the curtain and peered out from his
berth into the railroad yards, the bright May sunshine flooding
the old familiar scenes at Edmeston.  Far off he could just make
out the red brick chimney of his Uncle Abner's home.
What recollections it brought back to Phil Forrest--recollections
that went back still further to a sweet face and laughing eyes
Phil dropped the curtain and lay face down in the pillow for
"I say, Phil."
"What is it?" demanded the lad in a muffled voice.
"Guess who's out there?"
"I don't know."
"The gang's out there."
"The gang.  The whole high school crowd."
"They're looking for us.  Lucky we're on the last section, for
if it was dark, we couldn't make much of a splurge getting off
the train.  Aren't you going to get up?"
Phil slowly pulled himself from his berth, then began drawing on
his clothes.  Teddy was already up and nearly dressed, full of
expectation of what was before him.  For Phil there was something
that tinged his joy with sadness, though he could not make up his
mind why it should be so.  His reverie was broken in upon by the
voice of Teddy Tucker.
"Come, hurry up!"
"I am all ready now," answered Phil.  "Have you washed?"
"You bet.  I always wash the first thing in the morning."
Together the Circus Boys stepped out on the platform.
There, lined up by the side of the track, were their
companions and school fellows waiting to welcome them.
The high school boys uttered a shout when they espied Phil
"How'dy, fellows!" greeted Teddy, posing on the car platform for
a moment, that they might gaze upon him admiringly.
Phil was already on the ground, hurrying toward the boys with
both hands outstretched.  A moment more and the two lads had been
grabbed by their schoolmates and literally overwhelmed, while a
crowd of villagers stood off against a pile of lumber, laughing
and calling out greetings to the Circus Boys.
Phil and Teddy, as soon as they were able to get away, hurried to
the circus lot for their breakfast.  There they found a great
crowd of people whom they knew, and for a few minutes they were
kept busy shaking hands, after which the boys with faces wreathed
in smiles, proudly entered the cook tent.  Teddy glanced up
quizzically when they got inside.
"Well I guess we're some, eh, Phil?"
"I guess so.  I hope everything goes all right today.  I should
die of mortification if anything were to happen to our acts.
You want to keep your mind right on your work today.  Don't pay
any attention to the audience.  Remember a whole lot of people
are coming to this show today just because they are interested
in you and me."
"I guess I know how to perform," sputtered Teddy.
"I haven't said you do not.  I know you do, but I don't want you
to forget that you do."
"Look out for yourself.  I'll take care of myself,"
growled Teddy.
"I'm going to."
Having finished their breakfast the boys started for the
village, to call on Mrs. Cahill, their guardian and the
custodian of their earnings.  As they were leaving the
grounds, Phil paused suddenly.
"Look there," he said, pointing to Mr. Sparling's office tent.
"Well, if it isn't Billy Ford, the president of our class,"
breathed Teddy.  "I didn't see him at the train when we came in
this morning; did you?"
"No.  He wasn't there."
"Now, what do you suppose he is doing in Mr. Sparling's tent?"
"I haven't the least idea unless he is trying to find out where
we are.  Hey, Billy!"
Billy Ford paused at the sound of the familiar call; then the
Circus Boys hurried toward him.  Billy went suddenly red in the
face as if he were very much embarrassed.
"What you doing in there?" demanded Teddy.
"Why--why--perhaps I was trying to join the show,"
stammered Billy.
"We wouldn't have you.  You and I couldn't travel in the
same show.  They'd fire us both."
"Why?" questioned Billy, now regaining his presence of mind.
" 'Cause, between us we'd put the show out of business."
"I believe you would," nodded Phil.
"Where you going, boys?"
"Mrs. Cahill's."
"Then I'll walk down that way with you.  What time do you get
through at night?"
"We finish our last act about ten o'clock," answered Phil.
"Oh, nothing much.  I just wanted to know."
Phil shot a swift, suspicious glance at the schoolboy, but
Billy's face bore an expression as serene as the May morning
of that very day.
Mr. Sparling hailed the lads as they were leaving the lot.
"You may be excused from parade today, both of you.  You no doubt
will want to spend all the time you can with your friends."
"Thank you," smiled Phil.  "There's the finest man a fellow ever
worked for."
"Worked?  Do you call performing in a circus work?"
"Well, at least it is a pretty good imitation of work, Billy."
"I used to think just like you do," added Teddy rather ruefully.
"Is it really work then?"
"Oh, no; it's just play.  Come to the show and you will see
"By the way," inquired Phil, "the fellows are all coming this
afternoon, I suppose?"
"Yes, but not this afternoon."
"That will be fine.  We have a short run tonight, so the boss
will not be in any hurry to move the show.  You'll see it all."
"Why, don't you always give it all?"
"No.  Sometimes, when the weather is bad, or when we have a
long run before us, Mr. Sparling cuts some of the acts out
entirely, and shortens others.  But, of course, the audience
doesn't know this."
"Is that so?" wondered the surprised Billy.
"Yes.  Are you boys all going to sit together?"
"Yes.  We'll be where we can see you.  And the girls are going
to be there, too.  I reckon the whole school will be on hand."
"How about Uncle Abner--will he go to the show, do you think?"
"I know where you'll find him," spoke up Teddy.
"You'll find him hiding behind the hen house watching the parade
go by.  He won't dare show himself after the way the clowns had
fun with him when the show was here before."
"Poor Uncle Abner!  I must go over and see him after we have
called on Mrs. Cahill."
Arriving at Mrs. Cahill's, they found her out in the yard,
arrayed in her best dress in honor of their coming, and it was
a joyful meeting between the three.  In a short time, however,
Teddy grew restless and decided that he would wander about town
and call on his other friends.
"I'll tell you what let's do, Teddy," suggested Phil.
"You come back before parade time and we three will sit on the
front door step and watch the parade go by, just as we used to
do before we went into the show business.  I'll run over to see
Uncle Abner in the meantime, and we will both be back here by
half-past ten.  The parade will not get along before then."
"Yes, do, boys," urged Mrs. Cahill.  "I'll have a lunch for you
after the parade.  You will like that, will you not?"
"I should say we shall," laughed Phil.  "But, I had rather
thought you might like to eat with us under the circus tent."
"Oh, my, my!  Eat with the circus?"
"Not with the animals, he doesn't mean," corrected Teddy.
"He means we should like to have you eat with we performers."
"Yes, with the performers," grinned Phil.
"Can I eat there with you just as well after the
afternoon performance?"
"Then we will have our noon meal here.  I have some fresh
molasses cookies already baked for you."
"Cookies?"  Teddy's eyes brightened.
"Yes; do you want some now?"
"I always want cookies.  Never knew a time when I didn't.  I want
'em when I'm awake, and I want 'em when I'm asleep."
He got a double handful in short order.
"Well, I'm off!" announced Teddy.
"How about the parade?  Will you come back and see it from here?"
"Yes; I guess that would be some fun.  I can make faces at the
other performers who have to work.  Yes; I'll come back."
"Don't forget about the donkey," called Phil.  "When are you
going to take him over to the horse tent?"
"I'm not going to give myself away by leading that fright through
the streets.  I've fixed it with one of the hostlers to smuggle
him over to the stable tent," grinned Teddy.
"Taking him in this afternoon?"
"Not I.  Saving that for a grand surprise tonight.  What are you
going to do to surprise the fellows?"
"I hadn't thought.  Nothing quite so sensational as your feat
will be, I guess," laughed Phil.
In the course of an hour both lads had returned to Mrs. Cahill's
humble home.  But while they were away from the show grounds, the
owner of the show, without the knowledge of the lads, had paid a
visit to the principal of the school and was back on the lot in
time to head the parade when it finally started.
"Kinder wish I had gone in the parade," regretted Teddy.
"Good place to show off."
"You have a much better one."
"In the ring.  Anybody can ride a horse in a parade, but not
everyone can perform on the flying rings and leap over elephants
Teddy instinctively threw out his chest.
"You're right, at that.  Hark!"
"Yes; they are coming.  I can hear Billy English blow the
big bass horn.  You could hear him over three counties, I
really believe."
Laughing and chatting, the boys settled themselves on Mrs.
Cahill's hospitable doorstep to await the arrival of the parade
which could be heard far off on the other side of the village.
Now and then the high, metallic notes of the calliope rose
above all the rest, bringing a glint of pride to the eyes of
Teddy Tucker.
"I just love that steam music machine."
"Well, I must say that I do not admire your taste," laughed Phil.
"It's the most hideous discord of noises I ever heard.  I never
did like the steam piano, but a circus wouldn't be a circus
without it."
"Nope," agreed Teddy with emphasis.
Down the street a gorgeously colored rainbow slowly reached
around a bend and began straightening away toward the
Cahill home.  The parade was approaching.
As the gay procession drew nearer the boys began to evince some
of the enthusiasm that they had known before they themselves had
become a part of the big show.
"Remember the parade two years ago, Phil?" asked Mrs. Cahill.
"I could not very well forget it.  That was a red letter day in
my life, the day when I fell into the show business."
"And that wasn't all you fell in either," added Teddy.
"What else did I fall in?"
"In a ditch when you stopped the runaway pony."
Phil did not laugh.  He was thinking.
"That was a lucky fall, too."
"Because it was the means of giving you and me our start in the
circus business."
"Hurrah!  Here they come.  Now see me make faces at them when
they go by," said Teddy.
The Cahill home was near the outskirts of the village, and as the
golden chariot of the band, glistening in the bright morning
sunlight, approached, the lads could not repress an exclamation
"I used to think the band wagon was solid gold," breathed Teddy.
"When did you find out differently?"
"That day, two years ago, when I scraped off some of the gold
with my knife and found it was nothing but wood," grunted Teddy
in a disgusted tone.
"What is that band wagon trying to do?" demanded Phil suddenly.
"Guess they are going to turn around," said Teddy.
The six white horses attached to the band wagon slowly drew out
of the line just before reaching the Cahill home, and pointed
toward the roadside fence.  The boys could not understand what
the move meant.  An instant later the leaders straightened out
and began moving along the side of the road close to the fence.
They slowly drew up to the door yard, coming to a stop at the
far end of it.
"Wha--wha--" stammered Teddy.
"They are going to serenade us," cried Phil.  "That's Mr.
Sparling all over.  What do you think of that, Mrs. Cahill?
You never were serenaded by a circus band before, were you?"
"N-n-no," answered the widow, a little tremulously.
The band wagon drew up a few feet further, coming to a stop again
just to the left of the dooryard gate, so as not to interfere
with the party's view of the parade.
"There's Mr. Sparling," shouted Phil, as the owner in his
handsome carriage drawn by four black horses, came abreast
of the yard.
Both boys sprang up and cheered him in their enthusiasm, to which
the showman responded by taking off his hat, while the band
struck up "Yankee Doodle."
It was a glorious moment for the Circus Boys, and they were
even more surprised and gratified by what followed a few
moments later.
THE CIRCUS MAKES A CALL
While the band played, the clown wagon came to a halt and
the whole body of funny men sang a song in front of Mrs.
Cahill's house, while the widow and her two young guests
applauded enthusiastically.
As the clown's wagon drew on, a horse ridden by a young woman was
seen dashing straight at the dooryard fence, which it took in a
graceful leap, causing the Widow Cahill to gasp her amazement.
The rider was none other than Little Dimples, the star bareback
rider of the Sparling Shows, who had chosen this way to pay
homage to her young associates and to Mrs. Cahill as well.
It was an unusual procedure in a circus parade, but though it had
been arranged by Mr. Sparling out of the kindness of his heart,
he shrewdly reasoned that it would make good business for the
show as well.  That the people lined up along the street agreed
with his reasoning was evidenced by their shouts of applause.
"Mrs. Cahill, this is our very good friend, Mrs. Robinson,
otherwise known as Little Dimples," announced Phil proudly.
Mrs. Cahill bowed and smiled, not the least bit embarrassed.
"You haven't introduced my pony, Phil.  The pony is part of
little me, you know."
"I beg pardon, Mrs. Cahill; let me introduce to you Mrs.
Robinson's pony, Cinders, who, though he cannot talk, comes
pretty close to it," said Phil, with great dignity.
Cinders bowed and bowed, the bits rattling against his teeth
until it sounded to the little gathering as if he were trying
to chatter his pleasure at the introduction.
"Now, shake hands with Mrs. Cahill, Cinders," directed
Little Dimples.
Cinders extended a hoof, which Mrs. Cahill touched gingerly.
She was not used to shaking hands with horses.  Teddy and Phil,
however, each grasped the pony's extended foot, giving it a good
shake, after which Phil thrust a lump of sugar into the waiting
lips of Cinders.
"Naughty boy!" chided Little Dimples, tapping the neck of her
mount with the little riding crop she carried.  "You would spoil
him in no time.  I must be going, now.  I hope we shall see you
at the show this afternoon, Mrs. Cahill," smiled Dimples, her
face breaking out into dimples and smiles.
The widow nodded.
"This afternoon and tonight.  She is going to dine with us under
the cook tent this afternoon," Phil informed the rider.
"That will be fine."
Dimples nodded, tossed her whip in the air and clucking to
Cinders, went bounding over the fence.  A moment more and she
had taken her place in the line and was moving along with the
procession, bowing and smiling.
"That's what I call right fine," glowed Mrs. Cahill.  "Did you
say that little thing was Mrs. Robinson?"
"Why, she looks like a young girl."
"That's what I thought when I first saw her.  But she has a son
as old as I am."
"Land sakes!" wondered Mrs. Cahill.  "You never can tell about
these circus folks, anyhow."
Phil laughed heartily, but Teddy was too much interested in what
was going on outside the fence to indulge in laughter.  The band
was still playing as if its very existence depended upon keeping
up the noise, while the white horses attached to the band wagon
were frantically seeking to get their heads down for a nibble of
the fresh green grass at the side of the road.
"There come the bulls," called Teddy.
"Yes, I see them."
"The bulls?" wondered Mrs. Cahill.  "I didn't know they had bulls
in the circus."
"That's what the show people call the elephants," laughed Phil.
"Teddy is talking show-talk now.  We have a language of our own."
"I should say you do?" grumbled the widow.
"What's the bull in front got on his trunk, Phil?"
Phil shaded his eyes and gazed off down the street.
"That's my friend Emperor.  I don't know what it is he
is carrying.  That's queer.  I never saw him carrying
anything in parade before, did you?"
For a moment both lads directed their attention to making out
what it was that Emperor was carrying along.
"It looks to me like a basket of flowers," finally decided Phil.
"Has somebody been handing him a bouquet," grunted Teddy.
"It certainly looks that way."
"Why, I really believe he is coming in here."
"Coming here--an elephant coming into my front yard?  Mercy me!"
exclaimed Mrs. Cahill, starting up.
"Why, Mrs. Cahill, Emperor wouldn't hurt a little baby.  I hope
he does come in.  Sit still.  Don't be afraid."
"He'll spoil my flower beds--he'll trample them all down and
after I've worked four weeks getting--"
"Yes; here he comes," exulted Phil.
At that moment Emperor, with his trainer, Mr. Kennedy, swung out
of line and entered the garden gate.  Turning to the left they
headed directly across the lawn.  The precious flower beds lay
right in his path.
"Oh, my flowers!  They're ruined," moaned the widow.
"Watch him and you'll see," answered Phil, his face wreathed
She did, and her eyes opened wider when Emperor cautiously raised
one ponderous foot after another until he had stepped clear of
the first bed of flowers.  The same thing happened when he got to
the second bed.  Not even the imprint of his footfalls was left
on the fresh green grass of the lawn.
Mrs. Cahill's eyes were large and wondering.  A sudden impulse
stirred her to spring up and flee into the house.
Phil, noting it, laid a restraining hand lightly, on her arm.
"Don't be afraid," he reassured.  "Emperor will not harm you.
You see how careful he is of your lawn and your flower beds.
I think he is coming here for some purpose."
Emperor and his trainer came to a half right in front of the
porch, the elephant's little eyes fixed upon the slender form
of Phil Forrest.
"Good boy, Emperor!" breathed Phil.  "Did somebody present a
basket of flowers to you?"
It was a big basket, and such a handsome collection of
flowers did it contain as to cause Mrs. Cahill to open her
eyes in wonder.  A card was tied to the handle of the basket
with a big pink ribbon.  Phil began to understand the meaning
of the scene, and he felt sure the name on the card was that
of Mrs. Cahill.
A low spoken command from the trainer, and Emperor cautiously got
down on his knees, keeping those small eyes on Phil Forrest all
"Mrs. Cahill, Emperor has been commissioned by the Great Sparling
Combined Shows to present a basket of flowers to you in the name
of Mr. Sparling himself, and the show people, too.  He has
carried it all the way from the lot this morning," declared
Mr. Kennedy.
The people on the street were now pressing closer, in order
to see what was going to happen.  Phil was smiling broadly,
while Teddy was hugging himself with delight at Mrs.
Cahill's nervousness.
"Emperor, give the flowers to the lady," commanded the trainer.
Slowly, the big elephant's trunk stretched out, extending the
basket toward her inch by inch, while the widow instinctively
shrank far back in her chair.
At last the trunk reached her.
"Take it," said Phil.
She grasped the basket with a muttered, "thank you."
"Say good-bye, Emperor," directed the trainer.
Emperor curled his trunk on high, coughed mightily, then rising
on his hind legs until he stood almost as high as the widow's
cottage, he uttered a wild, weird trumpeting that fairly shook
Mrs. Cahill, in her fright, suddenly started back, her chair
tipped over and she landed in a heap on the ground at the end
of the porch.
A FRIENDLY AUDIENCE
The afternoon performance had passed without a hitch.
While there were many town people there the greater part
of the audience, which nearly filled the big tent, was
composed of visitors from the country.
Great applause greeted the performances of Phil Forrest and
Teddy Tucker, but the two Circus Boys were saving their best
efforts for the evening performance when all their friends
would be present.
Mrs. Cahill, after her tumble, had been picked up by the lads
who insisted that she shake the trunk of Emperor before he left
the lawn.  And now that she had seen the afternoon show, taking
a motherly pride in the performance of her boys, as she proudly
called them, the kindhearted woman sat down to a meal in the
cook tent, which proved one of the most interesting experiences
of her life.
As the hour for the evening performance approached there was an
unusual bustle in the dressing tent.  By this time the whole show
had taken a keen interest in the affairs of the Circus Boys, who
had been known to the performers--at least, to most of them--for
the past two years.
Teddy had paid sundry mysterious visits to the horse tent, and
held numerous confidential conversations with the equestrian
director, all of which was supposed to have been unknown to
Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show.
But, while Teddy was nursing his secret, Mr. Sparling also was
keeping one of his own, one which was to be a great surprise to
the two Circus Boys.
The first surprise was given when the clowns came out for their
first entry.  Lining up in front of the reserved seats, where
the high school boys and girls sat, they sang a song in which
they brought in the names of every member of Phil's class.
This elicited roars of laughter from the spectators, while
the school boys and girls waved their crimson and white class
flags wildly.
The whole class was there as the guests of the management of
the show.  This was one of Mr. Sparling's surprises, but not
the only one he was to give them that night.
Next came the leaping act, somersaulting from a springboard and
in the end jumping over the herd of elephants.  Teddy was so
effectively disguised by his clown makeup that, for some time,
the class did not recognize him.  When finally they did, through
some familiar gesture of his own, the boys and girls set up a
perfect howl of delight in which the audience joined with
enthusiastic applause, for Teddy, with all his clumsy ways,
was one of the best tumblers in the show.  He had developed
marvelously since the close of the show the fall before.
Never had Teddy tumbled as he did that night.  He took so many
chances that Mr. Sparling, who was on the side lines, shouted a
word of caution to him.
"You'll break your neck, if you're not careful."
In answer to the warning, Teddy took a long running start and
did a double turn in the air, over the backs of the elephants,
landing plump into the waiting arms of a bevy of painted clowns,
the spectators evincing their appreciation by shouting out
Teddy's name.
Teddy's chest swelled with pride as he waved his hand and shook
his head as if to say: "Oh, that's nothing!  You ought to see me
when I'm really working."
The band played on and the show moved along with a merry medley
of daring deeds and furious fun from the clowns.
At last, in response to the command of the ringmaster's whistle,
the band ceased playing and silence fell over the tent as the
ringmaster raised his hand for silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said.  "The next act will be a
bareback riding feat unexcelled in any show in the world.
In ring No. 1 the famous equestrienne, Little Dimples, will
entertain you with her Desperate, Daring Dips of Death that
defy imitation.  In ring No. 2 you will recognize a fellow
townsman--a townsboy, I should say.  It will not be necessary
for me to mention his name.  Suffice it to say that, although
he has been riding for less than a year, he has already risen
to the enviable position of being one of the foremost bareback
riders of the sawdust arena.  I think that's all I have to say.
Your friends will do the rest."
The ringmaster waved his hand to the band, which instantly blared
forth and to its music Phil Forrest tripped lightly down the
concourse, being obliged to go three-fourths of its length to
get to the ring where he was to perform.
His journey led him right past the grandstand seats where his
admiring school fellows were sitting, or rather standing.  As a
matter of fact, every one of them had risen to his feet by this
time and was shouting out Phil's name.
As he drew nearer they began to chant, keeping time with his
footsteps and the music of the band:
"Phil, Phil--Phillip F!  Rah, rah!  Siss-boom-ah!"
The Circus Boy grinned happily and waved his whip at them as
"I hope I won't make a fool of myself," he thought.
He had no intention of doing so.  He had a few tricks that he was
going to show his friends, and incidentally surprise Mr. Sparling
himself, for Phil, who now owned his own ring horse, had been
practicing in secret all winter on the act that he was going to
attempt for the first time in public that evening.
Discarding his slippers and chalking the bottoms of his riding
pumps, Phil began his act by riding standing on the rump of
his mount, to get his equilibrium and his confidence at the
Then the lad began throwing himself into his work, which
increased in speed as the moments passed, until his supple,
slender body was flashing here and there on the back of the
handsome gray, causing the eyes of the spectators fairly to ache
in their efforts to keep track of him.
The people voiced their excitement by yells of approval and howls
"My, but that boy can ride!" muttered Mr. Sparling, who had been
watching the act critically.  "In fact, I should like to know
what he cannot do.  If he had to do so, he could run this show
fully as well as can I--and perhaps better at that," added the
showman, with a grin.
Now the band struck up the music for the concluding number of
"I wonder what he has up his sleeve," mused Mr. Sparling
shrewdly, suspecting that Phil was about to try something he had
never done in the ring before.  "I hope he won't take any long
chances, for I can't afford to have anything happen to my little
star performer."
As a matter of fact both Phil and Teddy Tucker had become star
performers, and were so featured on the circus bills, where
their pictures had been placed for this, their third season out.
The year before they had appeared on the small bills in the shop
windows, but now they had the satisfaction of seeing themselves
portrayed in life-size on the big boards.
Phil sent his ring horse forward at a lively gait, which grew
faster and faster, as he sat lightly on the animal's rump, urging
All at once he bounded to his feet, poised an instant, then threw
himself into a succession of handsprings until he resembled a
whirling pink and gold wheel.
This was a new act in the circus world, and such of the other
performers as were under the big top at the moment paused to
No one was more surprised than Mr. Sparling himself.  He knew
what a difficult feat it was that the Circus Boy had not only
essayed, but succeeded in doing.  Phil kept it up at such length,
and with such stubborn persistence, that the owner of the show
feared lest the lad, in his dizziness might get a bad fall.
Doing a series of such rapid handsprings on the level ground is
calculated to make a performer's head swim.  But how much more
difficult such an effort is on the slippery back of a moving
horse may well be imagined.
Finally, red of face, panting, breathless, Phil Forrest alighted
on his feet, well back on the ring horse's rump.
"Be ready to catch me," he gasped.
The ringmaster understood.
Phil urged his horse to a run about the sawdust arena.
"Now, what's that fool boy going to do?" wondered Mr. Sparling.
All at once Phil Forrest threw himself up into the air, his body
doubling like a ball as he did so.
One--two--three times he whirled about in his marvelous
backward somersault.
"Let go your tuck!" commanded the ringmaster, meaning that Phil
was to release the grip of his hands which were holding his legs
doubled close against his body.
The lad quickly straightened up, spreading his arms to steady
himself in his descent.  Fortunately he was dropping feet first,
due to his instant obedience of the ringmaster's order.
Perhaps that alone saved the Circus Boy from breaking his neck,
for so dizzy was he that he was unable to tell whether he was
dropping feet or head first.
He alighted on his feet and the ringmaster caught him deftly.
"Stand steady a minute, till you get your bearings, Phil."
Phil needed that moment to steady himself, for the big top seemed
to be whirling about on a pivot.
Now he began dimly to hear the thunders of applause that greeted
his really wonderful performance.
"Can you stand alone now?"
"I think so," came the faint reply that was instantly drowned in
the great uproar.
But the lad wavered a little after the ringmaster had released
his grip.  Steadying himself quickly, Phil pulled on his slippers
and walked slowly from the ring, dizzy, but happy with the shouts
of his school fellows ringing in his ears.
He heard the voice of Mr. Sparling close by him, saying:
"Great, great, my boy!  Finest exhibition ever seen in a
sawdust ring!"
Phil tripped proudly past the grandstand seats, where the boys
were howling like a pack of wild Indians.
But just then something else occurred to attract their attention.
A donkey, long-eared, long-haired, dirty and unkempt trotted into
the ring and spun about like a top for a full minute.
On the ludicrous-looking beast's back sat a boy in the makeup of
a blackface clown.  In his mouth was a harmonica, that he played
lustily, as he sat facing to the rear with his back toward the
donkey's head.
At that moment something else was observable.  Instead of
traveling head first, as any self-respecting donkey is supposed
to do, this particular donkey was walking backwards.  Yes, he was
galloping backwards.
The instant the audience noted that, their cheers changed to
howls of delight.  The clown was Teddy Tucker, and the donkey
was the surprise he had been storing up for this very occasion.
While the audience laughed and jeered, Mr. Sparling looked on in
surprise not unmixed with amazement.  Here was the very thing he
had been looking for, but had been unable thus far to find.
"It's a winner!" he cried, as Teddy Tucker and his strange mount
ambled by him in a gait such as never had been seen in a sawdust
arena before.
Right around the arena traveled boy and donkey.  When opposite
the grandstand seats, where the high school students were
sitting, Teddy nearly drove them wild by drawing out the class
colors which he had been hiding under his coat.
In a shrill, high-pitched voice he gave utterance to the high
school class yell, which was instantly taken up by the class and
eventually by the spectators themselves, until all seemed near
the verge of hysterics.
Phil, instead of proceeding directly to the dressing tent, had
waited by the bandstand to watch the new act of his companion,
and he, with others of the performers, was laughing heartily as
he leaned against the bandstand.  Teddy knew he made a funny
appearance, but just how ludicrous he could have little idea.
"Whose donkey is that?" demanded Mr. Sparling, hurrying up just
as Phil and the other circus folks were congratulating the lad.
"He's mine," rejoined Teddy.
"Where did you get him?"
"I bought him.  Think I stole him?  Been training him all winter.
"It's a great comedy act.  He's engaged.  Turn him over to the
superintendent of ring stock and tell him to make a place on the
train for the brute."
"I've already done so."
"Oh, you have, eh?"
"Anybody would think you owned this show, the way you give orders
around here."
"I'm willing, and so's the donkey," grinned Teddy.
"For what---to go on at every performance?"
"No; to own the show.  We're going on right along, anyway.
"Hopeless!" muttered Sparling, shaking his head.
TAKEN BY SURPRISE
"Hurry up, Teddy!"
"Billy Ford is waiting for us out in the paddock."
"Oh, is that so?  What does he want?"
"He's going to walk to the train with us, he says."
"That's good.  I wonder if any of the other fellows will
"No; I think not.  I asked him if he were alone, and he said
"We might give him a feed in the accommodation car,"
suggested Teddy.
"No; you and I are going to bed right quick after we get back to
the train.  I, for one, am tired after this strenuous day."
"It has been lively, hasn't it?"
"It has," answered Phil, laying special emphasis on the "has."
"Say, young man, where did you get that freak donkey?" demanded
Mr. Miaco, the head clown, approaching at that moment.
"Drew him in a prize package of chewing gum," called one of
the performers.
"Where did you get him, anyway?" called another.
"You seem to know all about it, so what's the use of my
telling you?" retorted Teddy.
The lads had finished their work for the day, and nothing now
remained to be done except to disrobe, take a quick scrub down
after their severe exercise, don their clothes and take their
time in getting to the train.
There was plenty of time for this, as their sleeper being on the
third and last section of the circus train, they would not leave
for nearly two hours yet, at the earliest.
The baths of the Circus Boys were more severe than pleasant, and
in taking them each one had to perform a service for the other.
The bath consisted of the performer's standing still while his
companion emptied several buckets of cold water over him,
following it with a liberal smearing of soap and then some more
pailfuls of water.
Once a week, over Sunday, the performers were allowed to sleep
at hotels, providing the circus did not have an all day run.
At such times they were able to enjoy the luxury of a hot bath,
but at other times it was cold water--sometimes colder and more
chilling than at others.  Yet, they thrived under it, growing
strong and healthy.
Having once more gotten into their street clothes, refreshed and
rested to a degree that would be scarcely believed after their
severe exercise, both lads repaired to the paddock, where they
found the president of the high school class waiting for them,
interestedly watching the scene of life and color always
observable in the circus paddock, a canvas walled enclosure where
performers and ring stock await the call to enter the ring.
"Here we are, Billy," greeted Phil.
"Oh, so quick?" Billy started guiltily.
"That's the way we always do things," answered Teddy.  "Have to
do things on the jump, we circus men do."
"So I see.  What are you going to do now?"
"Going to the car, of course.  We always go right to the sleeper
after the show.  Why?"
"Oh, nothing special.  I thought maybe you might like to go
downtown and visit with the boys for a while."
"I should like to do so very much, but I do not think it will
be best.  We make it a rule to go straight home, as we call our
car, and I've never broken over that rule yet, Billy."
"Very well, Phil; then I will walk along with you.  I guess you
know the way."
"That's more than I do every night," laughed Phil.  "It's a
case of getting lost 'most every night, especially in the big
towns, for the cars seldom are found at night where we left
them in the morning."
"I shouldn't like that," objected Billy.
"We don't.  But we can't help ourselves."
"Here, where you going?" demanded Teddy suddenly.
"Taking the path across the lot here.  It is much shorter,"
replied Billy.
"Oh, all right.  I had forgotten about the path."
"I should think you would--"
Phil got no further in his remark.  He was interrupted by
President Billy, crying loudly:
"Here we are!"
Instantly fifteen or twenty shadowy forms sprang up from the
grass and hurled themselves upon the Circus Boys.
Taken by surprise as they were, Phil and Teddy gave a good
account of themselves.  Shadow after shadow went down under a
good stiff punch, for it must be remembered that both boys were
able to make a handsome living because of the possession of well
trained muscles.
Yet no two men could have stood up for long under the onslaught,
and Phil and Teddy very soon went down with their assailants
piling on top of them.
Up to this point not a word had been spoken, nor did either of
the lads have time to speculate as to who their enemies might be.
"Here, you fellow, get off my neck!" howled Teddy.  "Let me get
up and I'll clean up the whole bunch of you two at a time, if
you'll give me half a chance."
No reply was made to this.
"Get the blankets!" commanded a deep voice.
A moment later the two lads were quickly wound in the folds of a
pair of large horse blankets.  They were then picked up, none too
gently and borne off to the other side of the field, kicking and
squirming in their efforts to escape.
Their captors, however, did not for an instant relax their hold,
and further struggle proved vain.
Reaching the other side of the field, the Circus Boys were dumped
into a wagon.  This they knew because they heard the driver give
the directions regarding letting down the tail board.
Placing their burdens on the wagon floor, the captors very coolly
sat down on the boys.  Then the wagon started.  Never in the old
days of the road show, when Phil and Teddy were riding and
sleeping in a springless canvas wagon, had they experienced a
rougher ride.  It seemed as if every stone in the county had been
placed in the path of the rickety old wagon in which they were
being spirited away.
About this time Phil Forrest began to wonder.  He could not
understand the meaning of the attack.  And what had become of
President Billy?  He knew Teddy was lying beside him, but Billy
must have made his escape.  If so Billy would give the alarm, and
the show people would quickly overtake the kidnappers.
No such interruption occurred, however, rather greatly to Phil's
surprise, so he lay still and waited for a favorable moment when
he might take a hand in the affair himself.
Teddy's voice could be heard under his blanket, in muffled, angry
protestations, his feet now and then beating a tattoo on the
wagon bottom.  Such an act brought down the weight of his captors
upon the offending feet each time.
Once Teddy managed to work the covering from his mouth for one
brief instant.
"Hey, Rube!" he howled lustily, this being the signal known
to circus men the world over, when one or more of them is
But there were no strong-armed circus men to come to
their rescue.  All the circus laborers were working off on
the lot striking the tents and loading the show on the wagons.
Teddy was given no further opportunity to protest.
After a journey of what seemed hours, and during which,
Phil Forrest had lost all sense of direction, the wagon
came to a halt.
He could hear the hum of conversation as his captors consulted in
low tones.  Then all at once he found himself jerked from the
wagon and plumped down on the ground.
Teddy went through a similar experience, excepting that his fall
was considerably more severe.  Teddy struck the ground with a
jolt that made him utter a loud "Wow!"
He was on his feet in a twinkling, only to find himself pounced
upon and borne heavily to earth again.
Fuming and threatening, Teddy was roughly picked up, Phil being
served likewise.
The boys felt themselves being borne up a short flight of steps
and down a long hall.  Then came more steps.  This time it was a
long flight of stairs, the kidnappers getting their burdens up
this with evident effort.
"I hope they don't drop me, now," thought Phil.  "I shall
surely roll all the way to the bottom, though it might enable
me to get away."
Finally an upper floor was reached.  The captors bore their
burdens in and placed them on the floor.  The Circus Boys
realized, at the same instant, that the vigilance of the
kidnappers had been relaxed for the second.
Throwing, the blankets off Phil and Teddy leaped to their feet
ready for flight.  As they did so they met with the surprise of
their lives.
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
Teddy had squared off, and was landing sledge-hammer blows on the
Phil, too, had squared himself prepared to give battle, but his
hands fell sharply to his sides.
"Wha--what--" he gasped.
"Come on!" bellowed Teddy.
They were in a large room, brilliantly lighted, and about them,
in a semi-circle, was a line of laughing faces.  From them the
eyes of the astonished Circus Boys wandered to a long table on
which were flowers and plenty of good things to eat.
"Why, it's our old recitation room in the high school, Teddy,"
breathed Phil.
"I don't care what it is.  I can lick the whole outfit!" shouted
Teddy Tucker advancing belligerently.
"It's the boys, Teddy, don't you understand?" laughed Phil.
"Well, of all the ways of inviting a fellow to dinner, this beats
anything I ever saw before."
"How does it feel to be kidnaped?" grinned President Billy,
extending his hand.
"So you are the young gentleman who put up this job on us,
are you?" demanded Phil.
"I guess I am one of them.  But I wasn't unlucky enough to get a
black eye, like Walter over there.  You gave that to him, Teddy.
My, what a punch you have!" laughed Billy.
"That isn't a circumstance to what's coming to you.  I'll wait
till I get back to school, next fall, and then I'll take it out
of you.  You'll have something coming to you all summer.  Did I
paint Walt's eye that way?"
"You did.  It's up to you to apologize to him now."
"Apologize?"
"Yes; that's what I said."
"I like that!  I have a good notion to apologize by painting the
other eye the same color," growled Teddy.
"But, what does all this mean?" urged Phil, looking about him,
still a bit dazed.
"It means that we fellows wanted to give you and Teddy a
little supper.  It isn't much, but there are sandwiches and
cookies and pie and lots of other stuff that you'll like."
"Cookies?" interrupted Teddy, his face relaxing into a
"We knew you wouldn't come, so we planned to kidnap you both
and bring you over here by main force.  After we eat supper
we'll have a little entertainment among ourselves.  Walter is
going to sing--"
"What's that?  Walt going to sing?" demanded Teddy, halting on
his way to inspect the table.
"Then I'm going, right now!" answered the lad, turning sharply
and heading for the door.
"Why, why--"
"I've heard him sing before.  Good night!"
"Come back here," laughed Phil, grabbing his companion
by the shoulder.  "We can stand even Walter's singing if
he can.  But really, fellows, we can't stay more than
fifteen or twenty minutes."
"Because we must get to the train.  Were we to be left we might
come in for a fine.  Mr. Sparling is very strict.  He expects
everybody to live up to the rules.  I'm sorry, but--"
"It's all fixed, Phil.  No need to worry," President Billy
informed him.
"Fixed?  What do you mean?"
"With Mr. Sparling."
"You--you told him?"
"See here, Billy Ford," interrupted Teddy.
"What is it, Teddy?"
"Did you say Boss Sparling was in on this little kidnaping game--
did he know you were going to raise roughhouse with--with us?"
"I--I guess he did," admitted President Billy.
"I'll settle with him tomorrow," nodded Teddy, swelling out
"Did you tell him you were going to have a supper up here?"
"He knows all about it.  You need not worry about the train going
away without you.  Mr. Sparling said you had a short run tonight,
and that the last section would not pull out until three o'clock
in the morning.  That's honest Injun, Phil."
"Well, if that is the case, then we'll stay."
"Hurrah for the Circus Boys!" shouted the class, making a rush
for seats at the table.
"Ready for the coffee," announced the President.
Who should come in at that moment, with a steaming coffeepot, but
the Widow Cahill.
"Are you in this, too?" Teddy demanded.
"I am afraid I am," laughed Mrs. Cahill.  "The boys needed some
grown-ups to help them out."
"You're no friend of mine, then.  I'll--"
"But you are going to have some of those molasses cookies that I
told you I baked for you--"
"Cookies?  Where?" exclaimed Teddy, forgetting his
anger instantly.
"Help yourself.  There they are."
"It isn't much of a spread," apologized the president.  "We have
a little of everything and not much of anything--"
"And a good deal of nothing," added Teddy humorously.
"Everybody eat!" ordered Mrs. Cahill.
They did.  Thirty boys with boys' appetites made the home-cooked
spread disappear with marvelous quickness.  Each had brought
something from home, and Mrs. Cahill, whom they had taken into
their confidence two days before the Sparling Shows reached
town, had furnished the rest.  Everything was cold except the
coffee, but the feasters gave no thought to that.  It was food,
and good wholesome food at that, and the lads were doing full
justice to it.
"Say, Phil, that was a wonderful act of yours," nodded
President Billy, while the admiring gaze of the class was
fixed on Phil Forrest.
"I wish I might learn to do that," said Walter.
"You?  You couldn't ride a wooden rocking horse without falling
off and getting a black eye," jeered Teddy, at which there was a
shout of laughter.
"Can you?" cut in Phil.
"I can ride anything from a giraffe to a kangaroo--that is, until
I fall off," Teddy added in a lower voice.  "I rode a greased pig
at a country fair once.  Anybody who can do that, can sit on a
giraffe's neck without slipping off."
"Where was that?" questioned a voice.  "I never heard of your
riding a greased pig around these parts."
"I guess that must have been before you were born," retorted
Teddy witheringly.
"Say, Phil," persisted Walter, this time in a confidential tone.
"Do you suppose you could get me a job in the circus?"
"I don't know about that, Walt.  What do you think you could do?"
"Well, I can do a cartwheel and--"
"Oh, fudge!" interrupted Teddy.
"That's more than Tucker could do when he joined the show.
Do you know what he did, first of all?" said Phil.
"No; what did he do?" chorused the boys.
"He poured coffee in the cook tent for the thirsty roustabouts.
That's the way he began his circus career."
"I didn't do it more than a day or two," Tucker explained,
rather lamely.
"But you did it!" jeered Walter.
"Then his next achievement was riding the educated mule.  I guess
you boys never saw him do that."
"Not until tonight."
"This is different.  The other was a bucking mule, and Teddy made
a hit from the first time he entered the ring on Jumbo.  He hit
pretty much everything in the show, including the owner himself."
Phil leaned back and laughed heartily at the memory of his
companion's exhibition at this, his first appearance in a circus
ring as a performer.
"No, Walt, I wouldn't advise you to join.  Some people are
cut out for the circus life.  They never would succeed at
anything else.  Teddy and myself for instance.  Besides, your
people never would consent to it.  You will be a lawyer, or
something great, some of these days, while we shall be cutting
up capers in the circus ring at so much per caper.  It's a
wonderful life but you keep out of it," was Phil Forrest's
somewhat illogical advice.
"How far are you going this year?" asked one of the boys.
"I can't say.  I understand we are going south--to Dixie Land for
the last half of the season.  I think we are headed for Canada,
just now, swinging around the circuit as it were.  Isn't it about
time we were getting back to the train, Teddy?"
"No, I guess not.  I haven't eaten up all the cookies yet.
Please pass the cookies, you fellow up there at the head of
"We shall have our little entertainment before you fellows go to
your sleeper.  We reckon Phil Forrest and Teddy Tucker ought to
do some stunts for us.  Isn't that so?" asked President Billy.
"Yes," shouted the boys.
"What, after a meal like that?  I couldn't think of it,"
laughed Phil.  "Never perform on a full stomach unless you want
to take chances.  It might do you up for good."
"Well, it won't hurt Teddy to be funny.  Do something
funny, Teddy."
Teddy looked up soulfully as he munched a cookie.
"Costs money to see me act funny," he said.
"Go on; go on!" urged the boys.  "You never showed us any of your
tricks except what you did in the ring this evening."
"Do you know, it's a funny thing, but I never can be funny
unless there is a crop of new-mown sawdust under my feet,"
remarked Teddy.
"Nothing very funny about that!" growled a voice at the further
end of the table.
Teddy fixed him with a reproving eye.
"Very well, but you'll be sorry.  I will now present to you the
giddiest, gladdest, gayest, grandest, gyrating, glamorous and
glittering galaxy--as the press agent says--that ever happened."
Teddy, who sat at the extreme end of the table, placed both hands
carelessly on the table, then drew his body up by slow degrees,
until a moment later as his body seemed to unfold, he was doing
a hand stand right on the end of the supper table.
The boys shouted with delight and Teddy kicked his feet in
"Go on!  Don't stop," urged the lads.
"You'll be wishing I had stopped before I began," retorted the
lad, starting to walk on his hands right down the center of
There were dishes in the way, but this did not disturb Tucker in
the least.  He merely pushed them aside, some rolling off on the
floor and breaking, others falling into the laps of the boys.
"Here, here, what are you doing?" called Phil.
"This is what I call the topsy-turvy walk."
Teddy paused when halfway down the table, to let his mouth down
to the table, where he had espied another cookie.  When he pulled
himself up, the cookie was between his lips, and the boys roared
at the ludicrous sight.
Then, the lad who was walking on his hands, continued right on.
He was nearing the foot of the table when something occurred that
changed the current of their thoughts, sending the heart of every
boy pounding in his throat.
It seemed as if the roof had been suddenly hurled down upon
their heads.
Teddy instantly fell off the table, tumbling into the laps of two
of the boys, the three going down to the floor in a heap, finally
rolling under the table.  The other boys sprang to their feet in
sudden alarm.
"It's a band," cried Phil.  "Don't be afraid."
Then the circus band, that had been waiting in the hall just
outside the dining place, marched in with horns blaring, drums
beating, and took up their position at the far end of the room.
"It's the circus band," cried the lads, now recovering from
their fright.  "How did they get here?"
By this time Teddy, his face red and resentful, was poking his
head from beneath the table.
"Hey, Rube!" he shouted, then ducked back again.
Phil understood instantly that this was one of
Mr. Sparling's surprises.  But there were still other surprises
to come.  No sooner had the band taken up its position than there
was again a commotion out in the hall.  The lads opened their
eyes wide when a troop of painted clowns came trotting in,
followed by half a dozen acrobats, all in ring costume.  A mat
was quickly spread by some attendants that Mr. Sparling had sent.
Then began the merriest hodge-podge of acrobatic nonsense that
the high school boys ever had seen.  The clowns, entering into
the spirit of the moment, grew wonderfully funny.  They sang
songs and told stories, while the acrobats hurled themselves into
a mad whirl of somersaults, cartwheels and Wild Dervish throws.
Thus far the boys were too amazed to speak.
All at once some of the performers began to form a pyramid, one
standing on the other's shoulders.
"Here, I'm going to be the top-mounter!" cried Teddy, taking
a running start and beginning to clamber up the human column.
He was assisted up and up until he was standing at the top,
his head almost touching the high ceiling in the room.
"Speech!" howled the delighted high school boys.
"Fellow citizens," began Teddy.
Just then the human pyramid toppled over and Teddy had to leap to
save himself, striking the mat, doing a rolling tumble and coming
up on his feet.
When all the fun making in the hall was over one surprise proved
yet to be in the reserve.  The high school boys of Edmeston
turned out with lighted torches.  Forming in column of fours they
escorted Phil and Teddy to their car on the circus train.  It was
not many minutes later that the boys, tired out but happy,
tumbled into their berths, where they were asleep immediately,
carrying on, even in their dreams, the joyous scenes through
which they had just passed.
SHIVERS AND HIS SHADOW
Half a hundred motley fools came trooping into the sawdust arena,
their voices raised in song and shout.
Mud clown, character clown, harlequin, fat boy, jester, funny
rustic, vied with each other in mirth-provoking antics so aptly
described by the circus press agent as a "merry-hodgepodge of
fun-provoking, acrobatic idiosyncrasies of an amazing character."
And so they were.
Children screamed with delight, while their elders smiled a
dignified approval of the grotesque, painted throng that trooped
gayly down the uneven course.
The music of the circus band stopped short.  Then came a fanfare
of trumpets, and far down the line from behind the crimson
curtains near to the bandstand, a dignified figure all in white,
emerged and tripped along the grassy way, halting now and then
to gaze fixedly at some imaginary object just above the heads of
those on the upper row of seats, the very drollery of which gaze
was irresistible.
Shivers, Prince of Clowns, the greatest fun maker and character
clown of all that mad, painted throng, had made his entry.
Shivers had joined out with the Sparling show for the first time
that season.  He was known as the leading clown in the business.
>From the first, Shivers had taken a liking to Teddy Tucker, and
shortly after leaving Edmeston he had conceived the idea of
making a full-fledged clown of Teddy.  The permission of the
manager had been obtained and this was Teddy's first appearance
as assistant to Shivers.  Teddy was considerably smaller,
of course, and made up as the exact counterpart of Shivers
trailing along after him like a shadow, the lad made a most
amusing appearance.  Every move that the clown made, Teddy
mimicked as the two minced along down the concourse.
Shivers was a shining model of the clown both in method
and makeup.  His stiffly starched bulging trousers disappeared
under the stiff ruffles of a three-quarter waist.  A broad
turnover collar of the nurse style was set off with a large bow
of bright red ribbon, and a baker's cap, perched jauntily on one
side of the head, completed his merry makeup.  This too describes
Teddy Tucker's outfit.
"Now, be funny!" directed Shivers.
"I can't help but be if I act like you," retorted Teddy, whereat
the clown grinned.
Pausing before the dollar seats the clown pulled out the
ruffles of his snow-white waist, poising with crossed legs on
one toe.  Teddy did the same, and a great roar was the reward
of their drollery.
"La, la!  La, la, la!" hummed the clown, stumbling over a rope
to the keen delight of those in the reserved seats--the same
rope, by the way, that he had been falling over twice each day
for the past month.  Then he blew a kiss to a fragile slip of a
girl who was perched on a trapeze bar far up toward the dome of
the great tent.
Zoraya, for that was her name, smiled down, gracefully swung off
into space, soaring lightly into the strong, sure arms of her
working mate.
Just the suspicion of an approving smile lighted up the face
of the clown for the moment, for he dearly loved this little
motherless daughter of his, who had been his care since she
was a child.
Shivers had taught her all she knew, and Zoraya was the
acknowledged queen of the lofty tumblers.
But the clown half unconsciously caught his breath as the lithe
form of Zoraya shot over the trapeze bar, described a graceful
"two-and-a-half" in the air, and, shooting downward, hit the net
with a resounding smack that caused the spectators to catch their
breath sharply.
The clown shook a warning head at her, and Teddy so far forgot
himself as to stub his toe and measure his length upon
"Don't do it, Bright Eyes!" cautioned Shivers, shaking his head
warningly at the girl, as the child bounced up from the impact,
kicking her little feet together and turning a somersault on the
swaying net.  "It isn't in your contract.  Folks sometimes break
their necks trying kinkers that's not in the writings."
Her answer was a merry, mocking laugh, and Zoraya ran lightly
up a rope ladder to the platform where she balanced easily for
another flight.
"My, I wish I could do stunts like that!" breathed Teddy.
"Just like a bird.  La, la, la!  La, la, la!" sang the painted
clown, turning a handspring and pivoting on his head for a grand,
spectacular finish.
His refined comedy, so pleasing to the occupants of the reserved
seats, had now been changed to loud, uproarious buffoonery as he
bowed before the blue, fifty cent seats where his auditors were
massed on boards reaching from the top of the side wall clear
down to the edge of the arena.
He took liberties with their hats, passed familiar criticisms on
their families and told them all about the other performers in
the ring, arousing the noisy appreciation of the spectators.
Teddy was put to his wits end to keep up with this rapid-fire
clowning, and the perspiration was already streaking the powder
on his face.
All at once, above the din and the applause, the ears of
the clown caught a sound different from the others--a scream
of alarm.  Shivers had heard such a cry many times before during
his twenty years in the sawdust ring, and, as he expressed it,
the sound always gave him "crinkles up and down his spine."
There was no need to start and look about for the cause.
He understood that there had been an accident.  But the clown
looked straight ahead and went on with his work.  He knew, by
the strains of the music, exactly what Zoraya should be doing at
the moment when the cry came--that her supple body was flashing
through the air in a "passing leap," one of the feats that
always drew such great applause, even if it were more
spectacular than dangerous.
"No, it can't be Zoraya!" he muttered.  But the clown cast one
nervous, hesitating glance up there where her troupe was working
in the air.  The cold sweat stood out upon him.  Zoraya was not
with them.  His eyes sought the net.  It was empty.  He saw a
figure clad in pink, white and gold shooting right through
Then, too, he saw something else.  A slender, pink-clad figure
was darting under the net with outstretched arms.
"It's Phil.  He's going to catch her," shouted Teddy jubilantly.
But Phil went down under the impact of the heavy blow as Zoraya
struck him.  A throng of ring attendants gathered about them, and
in a moment the two forms were picked up and borne quickly from
Once, years before, Shivers had been through an earthquake in
South America, when things about him were topsy-turvy, when the
circus tent came tumbling down about him, and ring curbs went up
into the air in most bewildering fashion.
Now, that same sensation was upon him again, and quarter poles
seemed to dance before his eyes like giddy marionettes, while
the long rows of blue seats appeared to be tilted up at a
dangerous angle.  Then slowly the clown's bewilderment merged
into keen understanding, but his painted face reflected none of
the anguish that was gripping at his heart strings.
Teddy brushed a hand across his own eyes.
"I--I guess they're both killed," he said falteringly.
Just then the voice of the head clown broke out in the old
Netherlands harvest song:
    "Yanker didel doodle down,
       Didel, dudel lanter,
     Yankee viver, voover vown,
       Botermilk und tanther."
"Poor Zoraya!" muttered the clown under cover of the applause
that greeted his vocal effort.  And his associates looked down
from their perches high in the air, gazing in wonder upon the
clown who was bowing so low that, each time he did so, he was
obliged to turn a somersault to gain his equilibrium.
"Dangerously hurt--went through the net head first.  Hurry!"
panted a belated clown, running by to his station.
"Boy hurt, too."
"Told you so!" grumbled Teddy.
But Shivers did not flinch, and, as he neared the reserved seats
on the grandstand, his voice again rang out, this time in a
variation of the ancient harvest song:
    "Yankee doodle, keep it up,
       Yankee doodle, dandy;
     Mind the music and the step,
       And with your feet be handy."
Never had the show people seen Shivers so uproariously funny.
Under the spell of his merriment, the audience quickly forgot the
tragic scene that they had just witnessed.
Teddy, however, noticed little dark trenches that had ploughed
their courses down through the makeup of the clown's cheeks from
his eyes.  Teddy knew that tears had caused those furrows.
As Shivers looked down the long, grassy stretch ahead of him,
that he still must cover before his act would be finished, the
goal seemed far away.  He flashed one longing glance toward the
crimson curtains that shut off the view of the paddock and the
dressing tents, vaguely wondering what lay beyond for him and for
little Zoraya.  Then Shivers set his jaws hard, plunging into a
mad whirl of handsprings and somersaults, each of which sent him
nearer to the end of that seemingly endless way.
"Here, here, what are you trying to do?" gasped Tucker, unable to
keep up with the clown's rapid progress by doing the same things.
Teddy solved the problem by running.  He could keep up in no
At last Shivers reached the end.  With a mighty leap he sprang
for the paddock and the dressing tent.  And how he did run!
Such sprinting never had been seen in the big show, even between
man and horse in the act following the Roman chariot races.
Once a rope caught Shivers' toes.  He fell forward, but cleverly
landed on his shoulders and the back of his neck, bouncing up
like a rubber man and plunging on.
Shivers had darted through the crimson curtain by the time
Teddy Tucker had succeeded in picking himself up from having
fallen over the same rope.
Stretched out on a piece of canvas in the dressing tent, her head
slightly elevated on a saddle pad, they found Zoraya, her pallor
showing even through the roughly laid on makeup.
Phil was sitting on a trunk holding his head in his hands, for he
had received quite a severe shock.
"If she regains consciousness soon she may live," announced
the surgeon.  "If not--"
"No, no!" protested the white-faced clown, dropping on his knees
by the side of the child, folding Zoraya tenderly in his arms.
"She must not die!  She cannot die!"
His jaunty baker's cap tilted off and fell upon her tinseled
breast, while groups of curious, sorrowful painted faces pressed
about them in silent sympathy.
Teddy crushed his white cap between his hands twisting
it nervously.
"She isn't hurt.  Can't you see?  Look, she is smiling now,"
pleaded the clown.
The surgeon shook his head sadly, and Shivers buried his head on
Zoraya's shoulder, pressing his painted cheek close to hers,
while the dull roar of the circus, off under the big top, drifted
to them faintly, like the sighing of a distant cataract.
An impressive silence hovered over the scene, which was broken,
at last, by the quiet voice of the circus surgeon.
"The child is coming back, Shivers.  She has fought it out, but
she will perform no more, I am afraid, for bones broken as are
hers never will be quite the same again."
"She don't have to perform any more, sir," snapped the clown.
"I'll do that for her.  You put that down in your fool's cap
and smoke it.  Yes, sir, I'll--"
"Daddy!" murmured the lips that were pressed close to
Shivers' ear.
It was scarcely a whisper, more a breath that Shivers caught, but
faint as it was, it sent the blood pounding to his temples until
they showed red, like blotches of rouge under powder.
"D-a-d-d-y--y-o-u-r--Zory got an awful--b-u-m-p."
Three harlequins who had been poising each on one knee, chins in
hands, gazing down into the face of the little performer,
suddenly threw backward somersaults in their joy.
"Yes, Phil's quickness saved you," spoke up the surgeon.  "Had it
not been for him you would be dead now."
Teddy Tucker, the tears streaming down his cheeks, was hopping
about on one foot, vigorously kicking a shin with the other foot,
trying to punish himself for his tears.
"I'm a fool!  I'm a fool!  But--but--I can't help it," he sobbed,
wheeling suddenly and dashing into his own dressing tent.
"Call for Shivers!" bellowed the voice of the callboy, thrusting
his head inside the entrance flap.  "All the Joeys out for the
Shivers gently laid the broken form of Zoraya back, pressed a
hurried kiss on her painted lips and bounded away to take his
cue, the circus band out there by the crimson curtains swinging
brazenly into the enlivening strains of "There'll Be a Hot Time
in the Old Town Tonight!"
CHAPTER VIII
A RIVAL IN THE FIELD
Zoraya was left behind.  She was sent to a hospital where she was
destined to remain many weeks, before she would be able to be
moved to her little home in Indiana.  She never performed again.
In the meantime the Great Sparling Combined Shows had moved
majestically along.  They had left the United States and were
touring Canada, playing in many of the quaint little French
villages and larger towns, where the Circus Boys found much to
interest and amuse them.
Teddy and Shivers had made a great hit in their "brother" clown
act, which was daily added to and improved upon as the show
worked its way along the Canadian border.
One day Phil, who had been downtown after the parade, where he
went to read the papers when he got a chance, came back and
sought out Mr. Sparling in the latter's private tent.
"Well, Phil," greeted the owner cordially, "what's on your mind?"
"Perhaps a good deal, but possibly nothing of any consequence.
You will have to decide that."
"What is it?" questioned Mr. Sparling sharply.
"Do we show in Corinto?"
"I thought I had heard you mention that we were to do so."
"Why do you ask that question?"
"I'll answer it by asking another," smiled the Circus Boy.
"When do we make that stand?"
The showman consulted his route book.
"A week from next Tuesday," he said.  "Anything wrong
about that?"
"Nothing except that there is another show billed to play there
the day before."
Mr. Sparling bent a keen gaze on Phil's face, to make sure the
lad was not joking.
"Yes, the Sully Hippodrome Circus is billed there for Monday."
"Where did you find that out?"
"I read it in a St. Catharines' paper down at the hotel
this morning.  I thought you would be interested in knowing
"Interested?  Why, boy, it will kill our business.  So Sully
is cutting in on us, is he?  I thought he was playing the
eastern circuit.  He threatened to get even with me."
"Yes.  Sully was once a partner in this show, but he proved
himself so dishonest that I had to take legal measures to get
him out.  He got money from some source last season, and put
a show of his own on the road.  He has a twenty-five car
show, I understand.  Not such a small outfit at that.  But I
hear it is a graft show."
"What's a graft show?  I must confess that I never heard of
that before."
"A graft show, my boy, is a show that gets money in various ways.
They frequently carry a gang of thieves and confidence men with
them, who work among the spectators on the grounds before the
show, robbing them and getting a commission on their earnings."
"Is it possible that there are such dishonest people in the
show business?" marveled the lad.
"Not only possible, but an actual fact.  I am happy to say,
however, that there are few shows that will tolerate anything
of that sort."
"I'm glad I did not have the misfortune to get with one of them,"
smiled Phil.  "Are any of the big shows graft shows?"
"None of them.  But about this heading us off?"
"Yes; what will you do about it?"
"We'll be there on Monday, too," decided the showman after a
moment's reflection.
"On Monday?"
"Then--then you intend to skip a date somewhere?"
"We shall have to."
Mr. Sparling was a man of resource and quick action.  He made up
his mind in a minute as to what course to follow.
"I'm going to detach you from the show for a few days, if you
don't mind, Phil," decided Mr. Sparling.
"I am glad to serve you in any way that you think I can,"
answered the lad with a flash of surprise in his glance.
"I know that.  What I want you to do is to join that show
right away."
"Join them?"
"I do not mean that exactly.  I want you to go to the town where
they are playing tomorrow, I will get the name of the town before
the day is over.  Follow the show right along from town to town
until next Monday, paying your way when you go in and keeping
your eyes open for their game.  You, with your shrewdness, ought
to have no difficulty in getting sufficient evidence to help me
carry out my plans."
"What sort of evidence do you wish me to get?"
"Make a mental note of everything you see that is not regular,
and if they have a route card get a copy of that.  It's perfectly
regular, young man," hastened the showman, noting Phil's look
of disapproval.  "You are not doing anything improper.  I do not
ask you to pry into their private affairs.  We have a right,
however, to find out if we can, what their plans are with
relation to ourselves.  If they are playing Corinto the day
before we do, just by mere chance, then I shall make no further
objections, but if they are planning to move along ahead of us
and kill our business--well, that's a different matter."
"I see," nodded Phil.  "Who will take my place in the ring
"We will get along without it, that's all.  It doesn't matter so
much in these small towns.  I don't care if you do not join out
until we get to Niagara Falls.  We'll be playing in the real
country then."
"And working south?"
"Yes.  As soon as the weather gets cooler we will head for the
south and stay there until the close of the season.  They are
going to have a big cotton crop in the south this fall, and there
will be lots of money lying around loose to be picked up by a
show like ours."
"When do you want me to start?" asked Phil.
"Just as soon as I can get an answer to a telegram that I'm
going to send now.  You will be off sometime this afternoon.
But perhaps you can go on in your acts--no, I guess you had
better not.  You'll be missed at night if you do."
"Yes; that's so."
"I shall have some further directions for you.  So long, for
the present."
Phil turned away thoughtfully.  Shortly after the afternoon
performance Mr. Sparling sent for Phil again, the lad having
in the meantime packed a few necessary articles in his bag
preparatory to the journey that lay before him.
"The other show will be at St. Catharines tomorrow.
Are you ready?"
"Yes, sir.  What time can I get away?"
"Five o'clock.  You will be there in the morning in time to
see them set the tents.  Let me warn you that Sully is ugly
and unscrupulous.  If he were to know what you are there for
it might get you into a mix-up, so be careful."
"I'll be careful.  Have you any further instructions?"
"I want to give you some money.  You can't travel without money."
"I have plenty," answered Phil.  "I will keep my expense account
and turn it in to you when I get back.  Where do you wish me to
"Corinto, unless you think best to come back in the meantime.
That is, if you get sufficient information.  You know what I want
without my going into details, don't you?"
"I think so."
"Now, look out for yourself."
"I'll try to."
"You have not mentioned to anyone what you are going to do,
"Certainly not.  Not even to Teddy.  Perhaps if you will, you
might make the explanation to him," suggested Phil.
"Yes; I'll do that as soon as you have gotten away.  He'll be
raising the roof off the big top when he misses you."
Phil extended his hand to his employer, then turned and hurried
from the tent.  First, the boy proceeded to the sleeping car in
which he berthed, for his bag.  Securing this he had just time to
reach the station before the five o'clock train rumbled in.
The lad boarded a sleeping car and settled himself for the
long ride before him, passing the time by reading the current
magazines with which he provided himself when the train agent
came through.  Late in the evening the lad turned in.  Riding in
a sleeping car was no novelty to him, and he dropped asleep
almost instantly, not to awaken again until the porter shook him
gently by the shoulder.
"What is it?" questioned Phil, starting up.
"St. Catharines."
The lad pulled the curtains of his berth aside.  Day was just
breaking as he peered out.
"There they are," he muttered, catching sight of a switch
full of gaudily painted cars bearing the name of the Sully
Hippodrome Circus.  "They have just got in," he decided from
certain familiar signs of which he took quick mental note.
"Looks like a cheap outfit at that.  But you never can tell."
Phil Forrest dressed himself quickly and grasping his bag hurried
from the car, anxious to be at his task, which, to tell the
truth, he approached with keen zest.  He was beginning to enter
into the spirit of the work to which he had been assigned, and
which was to provide him with much more excitement than he at
that moment dreamed.
PHIL MAKES A DISCOVERY
"I guess I'll leave my bag in the station and go over to the
lot," decided the lad.
"The stake and chain gang will just about be on the job by
It is a well known fact in the circus world that there is no
better place to get information than from the stake and chain
gang, the men who hurry to the lot the moment their train gets
in and survey it, driving stakes to show where the tents are to
be pitched, and it is a familiar answer, when one is unable to
answer a question to say: "Ask the stake and chain gang."
That was exactly what Phil Forrest had in mind to do.
He followed a show wagon to the circus lot, where he found the
men already at work measuring off the ground with their
surveyor's chains, in the faint morning light.
"Morning," smiled Phil, sauntering over to where he observed the
foreman watching the work of his men.
"Morning," growled the showman.  Phil knew he would growl because
the fellow had not yet had his breakfast.
"Seems to me the circuses are coming this way pretty fast?"
suggested the lad.
"What d'ye mean?"
"I hear that there are to be two over in Corinto within two
days--yours and--and.  What's the name of the other one?"
"Sparling's," grunted the foreman.
Phil grinned appreciatively.  He had drawn his man out on the
first round.
"That's it.  That's the name.  I shouldn't think he'd want to
show in the same place the day after you had been there?"
" 'Cause the folks will all spend their money going to
The foreman threw back his head and laughed.
"That's exactly what they will do, kid.  That's what we want
them to do.  We'll make that Sparling outfit get off the earth
before we get through with them.  The boss has his axe out for
that outfit."
"Indeed?" cooed Phil.
"Yes.  He's going, between you and me, to keep a day ahead of
them all the way over this circuit."
"Smart, very smart," laughed Phil, slapping his thigh as if he
appreciated the joke fully.  "Have an orange.  I always carry
some about with me when I'm going to visit a circus."
"Thanks, that will taste good at this time of the morning.
It will keep me going until the cook tent is ready.  The cook
tent is where we get our meals, you understand.  'Course you
don't know about those things."
"No indeed!"
"Outsiders never do," replied the man.
"I was wondering something a moment ago, when you told me about
getting ahead of the other fellow."
"Wondering?"
"Wondering how you know where the other fellow is going?"
"That's a dark secret, kid," answered the stake and chain
foreman, with a very knowing wink.
"But if you know where he is going he must know where you are
billed for at the same time," urged Phil.
"But why not?"
"In the first place we bill ourselves only a few days ahead.
And, in the second, we have a way of finding out where Sparling
is going for the next month or so ahead.  Sometimes further
"Well, well, that's interesting--" The foreman hurried off to
give some directions to his men, slowly returning a few
minutes later.
"I should like to know how you do it?"
"Say kid, there's tricks in the show business just the same as in
any other.  Mebby there's somebody with the Sparling outfit who
keeps us posted.  Mind you, I ain't saying there is; but that
there might be."
"Oh, I see," muttered Phil, suddenly enlightened.  "Then someone
in the other show is giving away his employer's secrets.
Fine for you, but pretty rough on the other fellow."
"Let the other fellow take care of himself, the same way we do,"
growled the foreman, following it with a threatening command to
one of his men.
"That hardly seems fair," objected Phil.
"All is fair in war and the circus business.  You seem a good
deal interested in this competition business?" snapped the man
with sudden suspicion in voice and face.
"I am.  But where is this--this Sparling show going to--do you
know what towns they are going to play for the next month?
Can you tell that, too?"
"I can come pretty close to it," grinned the showman, whereupon
he named the towns on Phil's route list without so much as
missing one of them.  But the stake and chain foreman did not
stop here; he went on and gave a further list that Phil only knew
of as having heard mentioned by Mr. Sparling in his various
conversations with the circus lad.
Phil was amazed.
"Then they must be going west.  I see," nodded the boy.
"No, you don't see.  You only think you do."
"No.  If you was a showman and knew your business you'd know that
the Sparling outfit was going to make a sudden turn after a
little, and head for Dixie Land."
"Down south," exclaimed Phil.
"Sure.  Why not?  You see you lubbers don't know any more about
the show business than--"
"And you are going to follow them?"
"Follow them?  No. We're going to lead them.  They'll follow us."
"You're like a wildcat train then?"
"Something of the sort."
"Where's the boss?"
"There he comes now.  I'll have to hustle the men, or he'll
scorch the grass off the lot with his roars."
The foreman hastened to stir up his surveyors and Phil moved
off that he might get a better look at Mr. Sully, the owner of
the show.  Phil found him to be a florid-faced, square jawed man
whose expression was as repulsive as it was brutal.  Sully wore a
red vest and red necktie with a large diamond in it.  He gave the
Circus Boy a quick sharp look as he passed. "I'll bet he will
know me the next time he sees me," muttered Phil.  "But whether
he does or not I have made some discoveries that Mr. Sparling
will be glad to know about, though they will not make him
particularly happy, I'm thinking."
Phil was hungry, and he was anxious to get back to the village to
write a letter, but decided that he would wait until the tents
were up.  Then again, he wanted to see the wagons brought on so
he could count them and get a fair inventory of the show and what
it possessed.  He soon discovered that the Sully Hippodrome
Circus was no one-horse affair, though considerably smaller than
the one with which he was connected.
Not until the people were getting ready for the parade did Phil
leave the lot.  Then he hastened downtown and got his dinner and
breakfast all in one, after which he sat down to write a full
account of what he had learned to Mr. Sparling.
"There, if anything happens to me he is pretty well informed
so far.  It's enough to enable him to lay those plans he has
in mind, whatever they may be.  I can see him hammering his
desk and getting red in the face when he reads this letter."
Phil was cautious enough not to mention the name of the Sully
show in his letter, and tried to couch it in such terms, that
while Mr. Sparling would understand perfectly, another might not.
Phil took the letter to the post office, then went out on the
sidewalk where he stood leaning against a lamp post to watch the
parade, which he did with critical eyes.
"A pretty good-sized show," he mused.  "But all their trappings
are second hand.  They have bought them up from some show that
has discarded them.  That's one thing the Sparling outfit
never does.  All their stuff is new nearly every season.
Sully may have some of our old trappings, for all I know."
The parade was a long one; there were a good many cages, besides
a fair-sized herd of elephants.
"Hm-m-m!  Three tuskers among the bulls," muttered Phil.
"Pretty well up to our herd, but I wouldn't trade Emperor
for any two of them, at that."
After the parade had passed, Phil once more strolled over to
the circus lot and hung about until time for the afternoon
performance to begin, when he bought a ticket and entered,
occupying a reserved seat where he could see all that was
The lad smiled at the thought of how his position had changed.
He was so used to being over there in the ring that it did not
seem quite right for him to be occupying a chair in the audience.
He could scarcely resist the impulse to hurry back to the
dressing tent and prepare for the ring.
The grand entry came on; then his attention was centered on the
performance, which he watched with the keen eyes of an expert,
noting the work of every performer, completely forgetting the
cheering audience in his absorption.
It was really a fair performance.  He was forced to admit this,
especially of the aerial acts.  But the bareback riding he did
not think compared favorably with his own, especially so far as
the men riders were concerned.  One woman rider was very
good, indeed.
Phil drew a long breath when the performance had come to
an end.  A circus performance, to him, was a matter of the
keenest interest.  The fact that he himself was a circus
performer did not lessen that interest one whit, but rather
intensified it.  Yet the glamour of his youthful days had passed.
It was now a professional interest, rather than the wondering
interest of a boy who never had seen the inside of the
dressing tent.
Phil did not hang about the grounds.  He went downtown, but was
once more on hand for the evening performance, where he noted
that the show was cut short fully half an hour, and this without
apparent good reason.
He had made the acquaintance of a "candy butcher" during the hour
before the show, and from him had learned some further details
that were of interest to him and his investigation.
The Circus Boy, after watching the striking of the tents,
returned to the railroad station and took a late train for the
town where the circus was to show next day.  It was not a long
run, so he took a day coach.  In it he saw several familiar
faces--faces that he had noticed about the circus lot that
afternoon, and from their appearance he was forced to conclude
that these men belonged to the shows.
"Those fellows are crooks, as sure as I am alive," decided the
lad, after listening to the conversation of the couple just ahead
of him.  "That's what Mr. Sparling told me.  I could hardly
believe it.  I'll spend part of the time outside tomorrow and
make sure.  I shall know those fellows when I see them, if they
are on the grounds."
It had not occurred to Phil Forrest that he might be recognized
also, though he knew full well that circus people had keen eyes,
especially in an outfit such as this.
The next morning he hunted up his friend the candy butcher,
inviting that worthy to take breakfast with him which the lad,
a boy about his own age, was glad to do.  From the "butcher"
Phil learned a whole lot of things that added to his store of
knowledge, among them being the fact that Sully's outfit was
even worse than it had been painted.
Mingling with the crowds about the main entrance, before the
doors were opened that afternoon, Phil once more saw the same men
he had observed on the train the previous evening.  From their
actions he was more than ever satisfied that he had not been
mistaken in his estimate of them.
"I shouldn't be surprised if they were looking for some
pockets to pick," mused the lad, "but I do not see them
doing anything yet."
As a matter of fact, the men were plying their trade, but
his eyes had not been quick enough to catch them at it.
Phil, however, was more successful just before the
evening show.
Standing among the people massed out in front he saw a man's
hand steal slowly toward the handbag of a well-dressed woman.
Phil traced the hand back until he made out the owner, who was
one of the same men that had come through on the train with him.
A gasoline torch lighted the operation faintly, and Phil gazed
with fascinated eyes while the stealthy hand opened the bag
quickly extracting its contents.
Almost at the instant the woman looked down, perhaps attracted by
the tug at the bag.
"I've been robbed!" she cried.
The words stirred Phil to instant action.
In another second the thief felt a vise-like grip about the wrist
that held the plunder.
"Here's the man that did it, madam.  Call an officer," said
Phil calmly.
THE CIRCUS BOY IS RECOGNIZED
Giving the wrist of his prisoner a sharp twist, Phil snatched
away the small handful of bills that the fellow had stolen,
returning them to the woman.
By this time the thief had suddenly recovered his wits and sought
to jerk his hand away, seeing that it was merely a boy who had
grabbed him.  To the surprise of the crook he found it was not an
easy matter to free himself from that grip.  After making several
desperate efforts the fellow adopted other methods.
"Let go of me, I tell you.  I'll have you put away for this."
"I'll let go of you when a policeman has hold of you, and not
before," retorted Phil.  "You are a thief.  I saw you steal that
woman's money."
The man suddenly uttered an angry exclamation and launched a blow
at Phil's head, which the lad avoided, allowing it to pass over
his shoulder.
"Hurry!  Get a policeman!  This man is a thief," urged Phil, as
he closed with his antagonist.
"Thief!  Thief," cried several voices at once.  It was a cry that
had been heard before about the Sully shows.
Phil had not struck back at his enemy.  Instead the lad, by a
skillful twist, had whirled the fellow about until his back was
toward the boy.  Then Phil suddenly let go his hold on the wrist,
clasping the man around the body and pinioning his arms to
"You might as well stand still," said the lad coolly.  "You can't
get away until I permit you to, and that won't be until something
that looks like a policeman comes along."
In the meantime the captive was struggling and threatening.
All at once he raised his voice in a peculiar, wailing cry.
The Circus Boy felt sure that it was some sort of a signal,
though it was new to him.  But he was not to be cowed.
"Police!" shouted Phil.
"Police!" cried many voices.
Half a dozen men came rushing into the crowd, thrusting the
people aside as they ran, looking this way and that to learn from
where the cry for assistance had come.
Phil's captive uttered a sharp cry, and the lad realized what
was going to happen.  At first he had thought it was the police
coming, but he was undeceived the moment he caught his prisoner's
appeal to them. The men dashed toward the two, and as they rushed
in Phil whirled his man so that the latter collided violently
with the newcomers.  That checked the rush briefly.  He knew,
however, that he could not hope to stand off his assailants for
more than a few seconds.  Yet the lad calculated that in those
few seconds the police might arrive.  He did not know that they
had been well bribed neither to see nor to hear what occurred on
the circus grounds.
A moment more and the lad had been roughly jerked from his
captive and hurled violently to the ground.
Phil sprang up full of fight while the angry fellows closed in
on him.  He saw that they were showmen.  A sudden idea occurred
"Hey, Rube!" he shouted at the top of his voice, hoping that the
rest of the show people within reach of his voice might crowd in
and in the confusion give him a chance to get away.
And they did crowd in.  They came on like a company of soldiers,
sweeping everything before them.  Phil, in that brief instant,
while he was sparring to keep his opponents off, found time to
smile grimly.
The fellow he had first made captive now attacked Phil
viciously, the lad defending himself as best he could, while the
people who had come to attend the show got out of harm's way as
rapidly as possible.  Phil could hope for no assistance from
that quarter.
"I guess I have gotten myself into a worse scrape by calling
the rest of the gang," he muttered, noting that he was being
surrounded as some of the first comers pointed him out to
Suddenly they fell upon Phil with one accord.  He was jerked
this way and that, but succeeded pretty well in dodging the
blows aimed at his head, though his clothes were torn and he
was pretty badly used.
Suddenly a voice roared out close behind him.
Turning his head a little Phil recognized Sully, the owner of
the show.  Sully's face was redder than ever.
"What--what's all this row about?  Haven't you fellows anything
more important to do than raising a roughhouse?  Get out of here,
the whole bunch of you!  What's he done?  Turn him over to the
police and go on about your business."
One of the men said something in a low tone to Sully.
The showman shot a keen, inquiring glance at the lad.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"I don't know that it makes any difference.  I saw a fellow
robbing a woman, and it was my duty to stop him.  I did it, then
a lot of his companions, who, I suppose, belong to your show
pitched into me."
"So, you are trying to run the whole show, are you?"
"Well, you get off this lot as fast as you can hoof it.  If I
find you butting in again it will be the worse for you."
"That's the fellow who was hanging around the lot at
St. Catharines yesterday," spoke up someone.
"Yes; I remember now, he was asking me questions," said another,
whose voice Phil recognized as belonging to the foreman of the
stake and chain gang.  "I got to thinking about it afterwards,
and realized that he was a little too inquisitive for
a greenhorn.  He's been on the lot all day again."
Mr. Sully surveyed Phil with an ugly scowl.
"What are you doing around here, young man?"
"For one thing, I am trying to prevent one of your followers
robbing a woman," answered Phil boldly.
"Who are you?"
"That is my own affair."
"I know him!  I know him!  I Know!" shouted another.
Sully turned to him inquiringly.
"Who is he, if you know so much?"
"He's a fellow what was with the Sparling outfit last year.
He was always butting in then, and I can tell you he ain't
here for any good now, Boss."
"So, that's the game is it?" sneered Sully.  "You come with me.
I've got a few questions I want to ask you."
"I don't have to go with you," replied Phil.
"Oh, yes you do!  Bring him along and if he raises a row just
hand him one and put him to sleep."
Two men grabbed Phil roughly by his arms.
He jerked away and started to run when he was pounced upon and
borne to the ground.  Phil found himself grasped by the collar
and jerked violently to his feet, with the leering face of Sully
thrust up close to his own.
"I'll see that you don't get away this time," growled
the showman.
Dragging the lad along by the collar further off on the lot, the
showman finally paused.
"Get the carriage," he commanded sharply.
"What you going to do with me?" demanded Phil.
"That depends.  I'm going to find out something about you first,
and decide what to do with you later."
"And, when you get through, I shall have you arrested
for assault.  It will be my turn to act then," retorted the
Circus Boy.  "I have done nothing except to stop a miserable
thief from plying his trade.  I understand that's a game you--"
"That will do, young man.  Here's the wagon.  Now, if you
go quietly you will have no trouble.  But just try to call
for help, or raise any sort of a ruction, and you'll see
more stars than there are in the skies when the moon's on
a strike.  Get in there."
Phil was thrust into the closed carriage, which the showman used
for driving back and forth between the train and the lot.
Quick as a flash Phil Forrest dived through the open coach window
on the other side, and with equal quickness he was pounced upon
by the driver, who had gotten off on that side, probably at a
signal from Sully.
Had Sully not run around to the other side of the wagon Phil
would have quickly disposed of the driver, strong as was
With an enraged cry Sully sprang upon Phil, and raised his hand
"If you attempt to do that you'll serve the rest of the season
in jail," dared Phil, taking a bold course.  "You know they
don't trifle with brutes like you up here in Canada?"
Sully growled an unintelligible reply, but that he recognized the
truth of the lad's words was evident when he slowly dropped his
clenched fist to his side.
"I'll see that you don't get away this time," he said once more
thrusting Phil into the carriage, this time, however, keeping a
firm grip on the lad's arm.
The driver whipped up the horse and the carriage rumbled away,
soon reaching the village street and turning sharply off into a
side street.
ON SULLY'S PRIVATE CAR
"Where are you taking me?" Phil demanded.
"You'll see in a minute."
"And so will you.  There are laws to punish such high-handed
methods as yours, and I'll see that you are punished, and well
punished, too.  If I can't do it, there are others who will--who
will see that you get what you deserve."
"Keep on talking.  It will be my turn pretty soon,"
answered Sully.
In a short time Phil discovered that they were driving along by
the railroad tracks.  He knew that the yards where the circus
train was standing were only a short distance beyond.
"I guess he's going to take me to the train, for some reason
or other," decided Phil, but he could not understand what the
showman's motive might be.
The Circus Boy was not afraid, but he was thoroughly angry.
His grit and stubbornness had been aroused and he was ready to
take any desperate chance.  However, he felt that, after all,
this capture might be the means of giving him the further
information of which he was in search.  He might possibly be
able to draw some admission from Sully.
They drew up beside the tracks and the carriage halted.
"Now, not a sound!" warned the showman.  "If you raise your
voice, or so much as speak to anyone you see, I'll forget that
you are a kid and--"
"I am not afraid of your threats," interrupted Phil.  "I know you
are brute enough to do what you say you will, but it won't be
good for you if you do.  Go on.  I'll follow till I get a chance
"You'll not get the chance," retorted Sully, taking firm hold of
the boy's arm.
They made their way through the yards, avoiding the gasoline
torches that flared familiarly here and there among the mass
of cars, then turned toward the station.  As the lights of the
latter came into view, the showman halted, looked up and down
the tracks, then led Phil to the platform of a car which the
boy recognized as being one of the show's sleepers.
"That's what I thought he was up to," muttered Phil, watching for
an opportunity to leap off the other side and lose himself among
No such opportunity was offered to him, however, and a moment
later the door of the sleeper had been opened, and he was pushed
roughly inside, Mr. Sully following in quickly, slamming and
locking the door behind them.
"Get in there and sit down!"
"In the private office there."
"So this is your private car, is it?"
"You seem to know a lot about the show business."
Phil made no reply, but dropped into the owner's chair at the
latter's desk.
"Get out of that chair!"
"I thought you invited me to sit down?"
"I did, but I might have known you wouldn't have had sense enough
to sit where you ought to."
"Where's that?"
"On the floor."
"I am not in the habit of being received that way," taunted Phil,
making no move to vacate the chair.
Sully, with a grunt of disapproval, sat down in another chair,
placing himself so the light would fall fully on Phil's face.
"Now, what's your name?"
"You'll have to guess that," smiled Phil.
"That's where you're wrong.  I know it."
"What is my name?"
"Forrest.  You're a bareback rider in the Sparling outfit.
You thought you would not be known, but you see you are.
You can't fool a man in the show business so easily.  After you
have grown older in the business you will learn a few things."
"I am learning fast," laughed the lad.  "I am learning a lot of
things that I wish I did not have to learn."
"What, for instance?"
"That there are such men as you in the show business."
"Be careful, boy.  You will go too far, the first thing you know.
Now, what are you doing here?"
"If you know so much I don't see why you should have to ask
that question."
"I'm asking."
"And I'm not telling.  I'll answer none of your questions, unless
it is about something that I can tell you without getting others
into trouble."
"You already have admitted that you are with the Sparling show.
You have made several slips of the tongue since I got hold
"I haven't denied that I am with the Sparling show, neither have
I admitted it.  I decline to lie or to give you any information
of any nature whatever."
"When is the Sparling show coming here?"
"I was not aware that it was coming here.  Is it?"
"No, I didn't mean that.  I mean when are they going to show
in Corinto?"
Phil was silent.
"You might as well make a clean breast of the whole business,
young man.  I've caught you red-handed, snooping about the lot
for two days quizzing everybody.  Now what's the game?"
"There is no game."
"What is Sparling trying to find out?"
"You will have to ask him, I guess."
Sully surveyed the lad in silence for a minute or two.
"I couldn't understand, at first, why he should send a kid like
you to spy upon us; but I begin to see that you are a sharp
little monkey--"
Just then the showman was interrupted by the entrance of the
foreman of the stake and chain gang.
"Bob, I want you to tell me exactly what questions this cub asked
you yesterday?"
"I thought he was some curious town fellow, so I didn't pay much
attention to his questions.  When I saw him on the lot, again
today, and heard him asking other folks, kind of careless like,
I began to smell a rat."
"What did he want to know, I'm asking you?"
The foreman related as well as he could remember, just
what conversation had taken place between himself and
Phil Forrest, omitting, however, the fact that he had furnished
any information.  It would have ended his connection with the
show right there, had he let the owner know how much he really
Phil grinned appreciatively, but it was not for him to get the
foreman into trouble.
"Hm-m!" mused Sully.  "You found out a lot, I presume?"
"I can truthfully say that I found out that what I had heard
about the show is true."
"And what's that, if I may ask?"
"Thieves.  I happen to know that they travel right along with the
show, and I shouldn't be surprised if you got part of their
stealings, either," Phil boldly flung at the showman.
Sully's face went redder than ever, while his fingers clenched
and unclenched.  It was evident that the man feared to let his
anger get the better of him.
"If he ever lets go at me, I'm a goner," thought Phil
understanding that, besides an almost ungovernable temper, the
man possessed great physical strength.  "I guess he won't do
anything of the sort, unless I goad him to it.  I believe that I
have said about enough."
"Watch him a minute, Bob," directed Sully, rising and stepping to
the other end of the car.  He returned a minute later.
"Young man," he said, "if you had been more civil you might have
gotten away with your bluff--"
"I have not tried to bluff you," interjected Phil.
"As it is, I think I'll lock you up until morning, and, if you
are ready then to make a clean breast of the whole affair,
perhaps I shall let you go back with a message to your boss--a
message that he won't like, I reckon."
"You won't send any such message by me," retorted Phil.
"Carry your own messages.  Where you going to lock me up?"
"In a place where you will be safe.  But I shouldn't advise you
to get red-headed about it.  There will be someone nearby to take
all the howl out of you if you try it."
"You had better not!"
"What do you think, Bob?  Is it safe to let this fellow go?"
"Well, I suppose you've got to let him go sometime.  He'll be
getting us into trouble if you keep him."
"I'll take the chance of that.  We can drop him just before
crossing the line back into the United States."
"That's a good game."
"Then the United States authorities can't take any action on
an offense committed across the border.  I don't believe they
would, anyway.  It is all a part of the show game.  I'd like to
drop the spy over the Falls when we get to Niagara," added Sully.
"I might get wet if you did that," grinned Phil.
"You'll be lucky if you don't get worse, which you will unless
you keep a more civil tongue in your head.  Yes; I guess that
will be the best plan, Bob."
"You--you don't mean that you will drop him over the Falls?"
gasped the foreman.
"No," laughed Sully.  "Not that, much as I'd like to.  But it
would serve him right.  I'm going to lock him up; that's what
"But he'll get out."
"Not from where I put him."
The foreman looked about him a puzzled expression in his eyes.
"What do you say to the linen closet?"
"The linen closet?"
"Yes.  I have just looked at it.  There will be room enough for
him, and there's no opening through which he can call to anyone
on the outside.  If he does make an outcry some of us will be
here to look after him."
"That's a good game.  I hadn't thought of it before."
"Come along, my fine young bareback rider.  You'll wish you'd
stuck to your own business before you get through with us!"
Phil was led down the side passageway of the car and thrust into
a narrow compartment, about three sides of which were shelves
loaded down with the linen used on the car.
There was room for a chair in the compartment and he could
stand upright.  However, had he wished to lie down he would
have been unable to do so.
"So this is the prison you have decided to lock me in, is it?"
grinned the lad.
"It looks that way.  I guess it will bring you to your senses.
You'll talk by tomorrow morning, I'll guarantee."
"I guess you will have another guess coming," warned Phil.
Without further parley Sully slammed the door and locked it,
leaving Phil in absolute darkness.
"Now I am in a fix, for sure.  If Sully hadn't been quite so big
I should have taken a chance and pitched into him.  He is strong
enough to eat me alive.  I could handle the fellow, Bob, all
right, but not Sully.  So I have got to stay here all night?
Fine, fine!  I hope I don't smother."
The car soon settled down to quiet again.  Phil knew, however,
that he was not alone--that undoubtedly there was someone
watching his prison.  He examined the place as well as he could
in the darkness, tried the door, ran his hands over the sides and
up among the piles of linen.  There was scant encouragement to be
found, though Phil believed that if he had room to take a running
start he might break the door down.
He decided to remain quiet, and after his exciting experiences he
was quite willing to rest himself for a time.  The lad pulled a
lot of the linen down to the floor, and making a bed for himself,
doubled up like a jackknife and settled himself for the night.
It was not a comfortable position, but Phil Forrest was used to
roughing it.  In a few minutes he was sound asleep.
LOCKED IN THE LINEN CLOSET
Phil roused himself for a moment.
"We're going," he muttered, realizing that the train was
in motion.  Then he dropped off to sleep again.
When next he awakened it was broad daylight, though the lad
did not know it until after he had struck a match and looked
at his watch.
"Eight 'clock in the morning," he exclaimed.  "My, how I must
have slept, and on such a bed too!"
The lad was lame and sore from the cramped position in which he
had been obliged to lie all night, but he was just as cheerful as
if he had awakened in his own berth on sleeper number eleven on
the Sparling train.  He began to feel hungry, though.
Phil tapped on the door.  There was no response, so he rapped
again, this time with more force.  Still failing to arouse anyone
Phil delivered a series of resounding kicks against the door.
"If no one answers that I'll know there is nobody here and I'll
see if I can't break the door down."
There was someone there, however, as was made plain a moment
later, when the door was thrown suddenly open, revealing the
grinning face of Sully, the owner of the show.
"Morning," greeted Phil.  "I thought maybe breakfast was being
served in the dining car, and I didn't want to miss it."
"You're a cheerful idiot, aren't you?"
"So I have been told.  But about that breakfast?  If you'll
kindly conduct me to the wash room, so I can make myself
beautiful and prepare for breakfast, I shall be obliged to you."
"Huh!" grunted the showman.
"Where are we?"
"Is this where we show today?"
"Yes, this is where we show today.  As if you didn't know that as
well as I do."
"I may have heard something to that effect.  I don't just
remember for the moment.  But, how about that breakfast?"
"How do you know you are going to get any breakfast?"
"Because I smelled it a few minutes ago."
"That's my breakfast that your keen nose scented, young man."
"Well, I guess I can stand it for once."
Sully was forced to smile at his young captive's good nature.
So he took Phil by the arm and led him to the wash room, where
the showman remained until Phil had completed his preparations
for breakfast.  Then Sully led the way to a compartment at the
rear of the car where a small table had been set.
"This looks good to me," grinned Phil, rubbing his
palms together.  "You live high in this outfit, don't you?"
The lad ate his breakfast with a will.
"I hope I am not depriving you of your meal?" questioned Phil,
glancing up quickly.
"I've had my breakfast.  If there had been only enough for one,
you'd have gone hungry."
"You don't have to tell me that.  I know it.  That's about
your measure."
"That will be about all from you," snapped the showman.
"The trouble with you is that you can't appreciate
decent treatment.  You're just like your boss."
"I'll not hear you say a word against Mr. Sparling," bristled
Phil, then suddenly checked himself.
"So, I caught you that time, did I?" exclaimed Sully, slapping
his thighs and laughing uproariously, while Phil's face grew red
with mortification at the slip he had made.  "You are not half as
smart as you think you are, young man.  I'll keep at you until I
get out of you all the information I want."
"I'm afraid the show season isn't long enough for you to do
that," was the boy's quick retort.
"You'll find out whether it is or not."
"I shall not be with you that long.  Now that I have admitted
that I have been connected with the Sparling show, what do you
think my employer will do when he finds I am missing?"
"I rather guess he will do something.  Wait."
"When does he expect you back?"
Phil looked at the showman, laughing.
"Did I mention that I was expected?  I said that when he missed
me there would be an inquiry, and there will."
"Little good that will do him," growled the showman.
"Then you don't know James Sparling."
"How'll he know you are here?"
"Trust him to find out, and then--wow!  There will be
an explosion that you can hear on the other side of the
St. Lawrence.  Do I take a walk for my health
after breakfast?"
"Thank you."
"To the other end of the car, to the linen closet, where you are
to stay until--"
"Until what?" questioned Phil sharply.
"Until you tell me what I want to know."
"What is it that you wish to know?"
"Why were you sent to spy on my outfit?"
"Perhaps for the same reason that you keep a spy in his camp,"
retorted Phil, bending a keen gaze on the face of his jailer.
Sully's face went violently red.  Without another word he grasped
Phil roughly by the shoulder, jerked him from the table and
hurried the lad down the corridor.
"Here, here, I haven't finished my breakfast yet," protested
"You have, but you don't know it.  You will know in a minute."
With that the showman thrust Phil into the linen closet again and
slammed the door.
"My, I wouldn't have a temper like yours if you were to make me a
present of a six-pole circus!" called the Circus Boy.
He chuckled as Sully uttered a grunt of anger and strode off to
the other end of the car.
"He'll be going to the lot after a while, then I'll get busy,"
muttered Phil.  In the meantime there was nothing for him to do
but to sit down and make the best of his situation, which he did.
Once, during the morning, Phil, believing himself to be alone,
made several desperate attempts to break the door down.
His efforts brought a threat from the corridor as to what would
happen if he tried that again.  Phil knew, then, that he was not
to be left alone.
After a while the lad went to sleep, not awakening until late in
the afternoon.
He got no supper that night, nor did the showman come near him
until late on the following morning.  Phil was ravenously hungry,
not having had a thing to eat in twenty-four hours, but he had
too much grit to utter a word of complaint.
An excellent breakfast was served, but instead of Mr. Sully one
of his men sat at the table while another stood out in the
corridor ready to take a hand in case the boy made an effort
Had there been an open window near him Phil would have tried a
dive through it, taking the chance of getting away.  The windows
in the room where the breakfast was served had been prudently
shut, however.
He had just finished his breakfast when Sully came storming in.
The lad could see that he was very angry about something.
"Good morning, sir.  Aren't you feeling well this morning?"
questioned Phil innocently.
"Feeling--feeling--" The words seemed to choke in the
showman's throat.
"Yes, feeling."
"Why--why--why didn't you tell me that Sparling had changed
his date and was planning to make Corinto the same day we are
billed there?" thundered Sully.
"Is he?  You know very well that he is, and it was your report
that put him up to doing this trick.  We've got you to thank for
this piece of business, and you're going to pay dear for your
part in it.  Is he going to follow us all around the country--is
that what he's planning to do?"
"I guess you had better ask Mr. Sparling himself.  He hasn't seen
fit to tell me, as yet."
"I'll show him that he can't trifle with me, and I'll show you,
so you won't forget it for the rest of your circus career."
"I wouldn't make threats were I in your place, Mr. Sully.
Wait until you get over your mad fit; then you'll be glad you
didn't say anything you might have to take back later on,"
advised Phil.
"Take back?  Take back?"
For the moment the showman was too far overcome with emotion
to speak.  Then he uttered a roar and stamped out of the car.
"Say, when is he going to let me out of here?"
"Not till we get to the border," answered the attendant.
"When will that be?"
"I don't know for sure.  I guess maybe a month."
"You don't mean he is going to keep me in that linen cupboard for
a full month--you can't mean that?"
"Can't say about that.  I guess that's it.  If you're finished
with your breakfast--"
"I have been finished for sometime."
"Then you'll have to git back to the coop again."
Phil reluctantly rose, but his keeper kept tight hold of him, and
the man on guard out in the corridor walked ahead of the boy on
down to the linen closet, where Phil was once more thrust in and
the door closed on him.
He had not been there long before he heard Sully enter the car
with one of his men.  All at once their voices seemed to come to
him clearly and distinctly.  The lad did not remember to have
heard voices there so plainly before.
This time Phil began looking about to see if there were not
really an opening in his chamber.  He found it at the top
over one of the shelves, a small grill, over which a curtain
had been stretched.  Phil lost no time in climbing up to it.
He peered out and saw the men plainly.  With Sully was his
parade manager, and they were talking excitedly.
Phil opened his eyes wide when he began to realize the enormity
of the plan that they were discussing.
CHAPTER XIII
THROUGH RINGS OF FIRE
"If there should happen to be a wind we might cut a rope or two
and let the big top down on them," suggested parade manager.
"Yes; it would put them out of business for the night
performance, but we don't want them to fill up for the
afternoon show.  That's when they are going to get the money.
You see, Sparling's show is bigger and better known than ours,
and showing there the same day we are liable to get the worst
of it.  Can't you suggest anything else?"
"If you don't like letting the big top down on their heads,
and providing there is no wind to make the attempt worthwhile,
I would suggest another way."
"The scoundrels!" breathed the listener above their heads.
"What's your suggestion?"
"Stampede the elephants."
"That's a dandy!  And we know how to do it, eh, Lawrence?"
The parade manager nodded emphatically.
"They'll never know what happened to them.  We can do it before
the show gets to the lot if you think best?"
Sully shook his head.
"No.  We'll wait till just as the doors are about to open for
the afternoon show.  Mind you, I'm not saying we shall do it.
I'll think about the matter.  Perhaps I can think up a better
plan after I have gone over the matter."
"Where's that boy you told me about?"
Sully motioned toward the end of the car where Phil was locked in
the linen closet.
"What you going to do with him?"
"Drop him when I get ready."
"But aren't you afraid the other outfit will get wind of what you
are doing?  It's pretty dangerous business to lock up a fellow
"I don't care whether they get wise to it or not.  They won't
know where he is.  After we get to the border I don't care a rap
for them," and the showman snapped his fingers disdainfully.
"They can't touch us on the other side of the Niagara River and
they'd better not try it.  Maybe Sparling won't be in business by
that time," grinned the showman with a knowing wink.
Sully rose, and shortly afterwards left the car with his
parade manager.
Phil sat down on the floor of his compartment with head in hands,
trying to think what he had better do.  These men were planning a
deliberate campaign to wreck his employer's show.
"Something must be done!" breathed the boy, clenching his fists
until the nails bit into the flesh, "But what can I do, I can do
nothing unless I can get away from here, and they will not let me
out, at least not until we have gotten by Corinto."
The more he thought and planned the greater his
perplexity became.  There seemed no way out of it.  His only
hope now seemed to lie in Mr. Sparling becoming alarmed at his
absence, and instituting a search for him.  His employer would
quickly divine something of the truth after Phil had remained
silent for two or three days.  Perhaps, even now, the owner of
the Great Sparling Combined Shows had sent someone on to learn
what had become of his star
bareback rider.
Phil's train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the door of
his compartment being violently jerked open.
The lad's first impulse was to tell Sully, who now stood facing
him, what he had overheard.  Upon second thought, however, Phil
decided that it would be much better to give the showman no
intimation of what he had learned.
"Come out, young man."
Phil complied, glad to be free of his narrow chamber, no matter
what the reason for the summons might be.
"What do you wish of me now?"
"Come into my office and I'll tell you.  I understand you are
a bareback rider," continued Sully, after they had seated
themselves in his little office, the door being locked
behind them.
"So you say."
"And a good one at that?"
Phil made no answer.  He had not the least idea what was coming.
"My principal bareback rider stepped on a switch frog this
morning and turned his ankle.  He is out of the running for
a week.  I need a man more than I ever did.  Do you want to
join this show?"
Phil gazed at him in amazement.
"You haven't money enough to induce me to."
"Perhaps I have, but I won't induce with it," grinned the owner.
"I've a plan to suggest."
"What is it?"
"If you will ride for me until we get to Corinto I'll give you
seventy-five dollars."
The Circus Boy was on the point of making an emphatic refusal,
when he suddenly checked himself and remained silent, as if
thinking the proposition over.
"Well, what do you say?"
"If I do as you wish, when will you let me go?"
"Perhaps after we leave Corinto."
"I don't believe you intend to do anything of the sort."
"You think I'd lie to you?" blustered Sully.
"I'm not saying that.  But I know you are not above doing
worse things.  I'll tell you what I will do."
"I'll ride for you today for twenty-five dollars."
"Payable in advance, you know."
"I guess you don't trust me?"
"Not for a minute."
"Well, I must say you are brutally frank."
"That's the way I do business," answered the lad proudly.
"But see here, young man, you must agree that you will make no
effort to get away," demanded the showman a sudden thought
occurring to him.
"I shall make no such agreement.  If I get a chance to get away
I'll do it, you may depend upon that.  I will agree, however, to
make no outcry nor to appeal to anyone to help me.  If I can't
manage it my own way, I'll stay here till I can.  Remember, I'm
going to beat you if I can, and if I can't, why Mr. Sparling will
settle with you.  He will do it properly, too."
The showman leaned back and guffawed loudly.
"I never saw a kid like you yet.  You beat anything that ever got
into a freak tent.  You are so infernally honest that you give me
notice you're going to try to escape from me.  Thanks, my boy,
for the timely warning.  I'll see to it that you don't get away
until I am ready to lose you.  If you try it you must expect some
rough treatment, and you'll get it too."
"Very well; I accept the terms.  How about the payment
in advance?"
Sully drew a roll of bills from his pocket counting out the sum
agreed upon.
"If you should happen to get away I'd be out the money?"
"I'll send it back to you in that event."
"Ho, ho, ho!  I believe you would, at that."
"I certainly shall."
"Say, kid, don't it ever give you pain to be so awfully honest?"
"I'll confess that it does when I am doing business with a man
"Oh!  That one landed.  That was a knockout," chuckled the
showman, rising.  "I'll be back after you with the rig
pretty soon.  We've got to fix up some togs for you to ride in,
but I guess we can do that all right.  I'll have to put you back
in your cage in the meantime." It lacked an hour and a half of
the time for the afternoon performance to begin when Sully called
with his carriage for his new star.  Phil was ready, as far as he
was able to be, and really welcomed the opportunity to get out in
the air again.  But he was so stiff from the confinement in the
narrow linen closet that he did not feel as if he should be able
to ride at all.
The drive to the circus lot was without incident, and Phil
embraced the opportunity to familiarize himself with the
town and its surroundings as fully as was possible under
the circumstances.  He had tried to form some plan by which
to make his escape, but had given it up and decided to
trust to luck.
There was another reason for his having decided to ride in
the Sully Hippodrome Show that day, and every day thereafter,
providing he was not able to get away before leaving Corinto.
He hoped that Mr. Sparling might have sent someone on to find
out what had become of him.  This was sure to be done sooner or
later, especially when the showman found that his letters were
not being answered, but were being returned to him, as had been
arranged for before Phil left his own show.
Reaching the lot they drove around to the paddock where Phil
and his new employer entered the dressing tent.  Even there the
lad was given no chance to break away.  It seemed to him that
every person connected with the show had been set to watch him.
When he entered the dressing tent he was subjected to the
curious gaze of the performers, most of whom understood that he
was to ride that day in the place of the injured performer, but
who knew nothing further about the matter.
Some difficulty was experienced in getting a pair of tights that
would fit Phil, but after awhile this was arranged.
"You sit down here and wait now," directed Mr. Sully.
"No; I've got something else to do.  Bring the horse out in the
paddock and let me see what I have to ride," answered Phil.
While they were getting out the ring horse, the lad indulged in a
series of bends and limbering exercises out in the paddock,
working until the perspiration stood out in great beads.
This done Phil sprang up to the back of the ring horse, and
while an attendant held the animal in a circle with a long
leading strap, Phil rode the horse about the paddock a few
times until he had become familiar with the motion and
peculiarities of the animal.
"How is he in the ring, fast or slow?"
"Just steady.  Been at it a long time," the attendant
informed him.  "He's steady.  You can depend on him."
"Yes; he acts so.  I'll look at the ring when I go in."
The owner of the show had been a keen observer of
these preparations.  He noted, too, Phil appeared
entirely to have forgotten about his desire to escape.
"That kid acts to me as if he knew his business," he reflected.
"If he rides the way I think he can, I'm going to get him away
from Sparling if I have to double the wages he's drawing now.
And money talks!"
The band began to play in the big top.  Phil glanced at
the showman.
"When do I go on?"
"Second number."
The lad nodded, and sat awaiting his turn to enter
the arena.  He did not have to ask when the moment had arrived.
The attendant started to lead the ring horse in and Phil quickly
fell in behind, following them in.
Right behind the Circus Boy came Sully, the owner of the show,
never taking his eyes off his captive for a moment.  This amused
the lad.  He grinned broadly.  It was a novel experience for him.
Soon the strains of music told him this was where he was to begin
his act.  The boy swung gracefully to the back of his mount.
Instantly he had leaped to his feet Sully clapped his hands
together approvingly.
"That's the way to do it.  You've got the other fellow skinned
forty ways!" he cried.
"In some ways," replied Phil significantly.  "Otherwise not."
The ring was in excellent shape, much to the boy's surprise, and
the horse was the best he ever had ridden.  In a few moments Phil
began to feel very much at home and to enjoy himself thoroughly.
The ring attendants brought out strips of bright yellow cloth,
which two clowns held across the ring for the Circus Boy to leap
over as his horse passed under.  This did not bother him in the
least, though he had never tried the act before.  It was a relic
of the old circus days that few shows had retained.
But Phil was on the point of balking when a clown came out with a
handful of hoops covered with paper.
"You want me to jump through those things?" he questioned, during
a brief intermission.
"Does the other man do that?"
"Then I can do it, I guess."
"I reckon you can do anything on a horse that you happen to feel
like," said the showman.
The band started up again and Phil sprang to his feet.  A paper
hoop was raised on the opposite side of the ring, the lad eyeing
it hesitatingly.
"I'll go through it if I break my neck trying," he muttered,
shutting his lips tightly together.
The Circus Boy hurled himself through the tender paper, but the
breaking paper stung his face like the crack of a whip lash, and
Phil, instead of landing on his feet as he should have done,
struck the back of his ring horse on all fours.
Sully growled angrily.
"You make a blunder like that again, and you'll be sorry for it,"
he bullied, shaking an angry fist at Phil, who turned a pair of
surprised eyes on the showman.
"See here," retorted the lad with rising color, "I'm not in the
habit of being talked to like that.  If you don't like my riding
I'll end the act right here.  I'm not obliged to ride for you,
"Go on, go on!" snapped the owner.
The next hoop Phil took as easily as if he had been doing that
very same thing all through the season.
"Fine!" chuckled Sully.  "He's a star performer, even if he does
give me as good as I send."
Phil was hurling himself through a succession of hoops now.
Then all at once, to his surprise and disapproval, five hoops
of fire flared up before him and on all sides of him.
"Go through them!" shouted the showman.
"You can't stop now.  Are you going to let a little thing like
that give you an attack of cold feet?" demanded Sully.
Thus appealed to, Phil Forrest thought better of it.
"Yip!--yip!" he cried sharply to the ring horse, riding straight
at the first ring which he took without difficulty, though the
hot flame on his cheeks made him shrink himself into a smaller
compass than had been the case with the paper rings.
The audience was applauding him wildly, for somehow this slender,
youthful figure appealed to them more strongly than had any other
performer in the show thus far.  One after another Phil took the
flaming rings until he came to the last one which he approached
with more confidence than he had any of the others.
He hurled himself at it with less caution than before.  As he
entered the hoop of fire his elbows caught it, and instantly the
lad felt the fire burning through his silk ring shirt.
Without an instant's hesitation the boy leaped up into the air,
clearing his horse by a full two feet.
The force of his throw sent the ring of fire soaring through the
air, as he had, with quick intuition, imagined that it would.
Phil threw a splendid backward somersault almost slipping off the
hips of the ring horse.
"Great!" exploded the owner.
The audience applauded wildly.
But the next instant Sully was not shouting approving words.
The burning ring had slipped neatly over his own head and before
he could throw it off, his clothes, as well, were on fire.
Throwing himself down in the sawdust the showman rolled and
rolled, uttering loud imprecations and threats, while audience
and performers fairly screamed with delight.
He was up in a flash, expecting to find Phil making a dash
for freedom.
"Stop him!" he bellowed.
Phil Forrest sat on the rump of the ring horse, grinning broadly
at the predicament of the owner of the Sully Hippodrome Circus.
A DASH FOR FREEDOM
"Well, you are a star rider, anyway," announced Sully, with
emphasis when he was once more leading Phil to the carriage to
take him back to the linen closet on board the private car.
But Sully was less violent, and there was a twinkle in his eyes
that Phil did not fail to catch.
"He's planning something," thought the boy, after being once more
locked in his compartment.  "I shouldn't be surprised if I had
ridden a little too well today.  But it's going to be the means
of getting me my freedom.  Someone surely will see me and
recognize me."
That night Phil rode again, winning even greater applause than he
had done at the afternoon performance.  But a closer watch was
kept over him, as Sully had imagined that the opportunities were
greater for escape than in broad daylight.  Phil had reasoned it
out the same way, but he was in no hurry.  He had done up his
money in a little bag which he hung about his neck each time
before going into the ring, so that it might not be stolen while
he was performing, for, it will be remembered that the lad had no
trunk in which to keep his valuables.
No chance to escape presented itself during the evening, however,
and the lad was forced to return to his imprisonment again after
the night performance.
"If you expect me to be in working order you should give me a
decent place to sleep," he told Sully, while they were sitting
at lunch in the private car that night.
Sully grinned and winked an eye.
"See anything green in my eye?"
"No.  It's all red.  I guess you see red most of the time."
"If you'll give me a promise, I'll let you sleep in a berth in
this car tonight."
"What promise?" asked Phil, though he knew pretty well what the
showman would demand.
"That you won't try to escape."
"I'll make no such promise."
"Then it's the linen closet for your."
"All right; I will sleep in the linen closet.  I suppose you will
want me to ride again tomorrow?"
"Sure thing!"
"Then don't forget the twenty-five dollars in advance."
"Say, that's more money than I'll pay for that act, good as it
is," protested the showman.
"Very well; then I will stay in the closet and you can cut your
bareback out.  You do not have to pay it unless you want to."
Sully growled and handed out the money.
Phil put it in his pocket with a smile and half audible chuckle
that did not tend to make Sully feel any the less irritable.
"Perhaps it is a good thing that I am a prisoner if I have got to
stay with this outfit."
"Why?" snapped the showman.
"Because some of your light-fingered gentlemen would be dipping
into my pocket, when I wasn't looking, and take the money away
from me.  That's the way you would get it back."
"That will be about all for you, boy," growled the showman.
"That is, unless you are willing to tell me what you are
The Circus Boy laughed lightly.
"I have nothing new to say to that question."
"You've done your part well.  You must have got busy pretty quick
to have tipped off Sparling before we caught you."
"Tipped him off to what?" inquired Phil.
"Well, never mind what.  You know and so do I."
After that the lad was sent to his closet to spend the night.
The next day was a repetition of the previous one, except that
Phil rode better than ever, if that were possible.  But as he
was riding under the name of the performer who had been injured,
he could not make himself known.
Saturday came along, with the lad apparently as far from making
his escape as ever.  But what he had hoped would come to pass had
done so in a measure.  That is, the owner of the show had become
a little careless in watching the boy.
Instead of accompanying Phil into the ring, Sully satisfied
himself with standing by the entrance to the paddock, next to
the bandstand.
This left Phil free to do pretty much as he chose, but he was
almost as closely confined as if he were in the owner's private
car, so far as getting away was concerned.  But the boy's mind
was working actively.
As he sat on the back of the broad-backed ring horse that
afternoon, his eyes were looking over the tent questioningly.
"I believe I can do it," mused Phil.  "If conditions are the same
tonight that they are this afternoon I am going to try it."
Just then the band struck up and the lad rose gracefully to his
feet ready to go through his act for the edification of the
great audience.
Phil was making more money than ever before in his circus career,
and he now had only one act instead of several.  But he cared
little for this.  It was merely a means to an end.
At night he accompanied Sully to the lot as usual.  Phil might
have appealed to a policeman, or to one of the many people
about him.  It will be remembered, however, that he had given
his word that he would do nothing of the sort, and Phil Forrest
was not the boy to break his word after once having given it.
He proposed to get away by his own efforts or else wait until
rescued by the Sparling show.
As had been the case with the afternoon show Sully remained over
by the bandstand while Phil went through his act.
"I'll finish my performance," decided the lad.  "I want to give
him his money's worth whether he deserves such treatment or not,
and then I'll make my try.  I can do it, I believe."
Nothing of what was passing in the mind of the Circus Boy, of
course, was suspected by the owner of the show.  Phil had just
rounded off his act by a backward somersault and the attendant
had slipped the bridle over the head of the ring horse
preparatory to leading the animal back to the paddock and
"You run along.  I will ride him back," directed Phil innocently.
"Because I prefer to."
"Very well," answered the groom, turning away and walking slowly
toward the paddock, while Phil, who had in the meantime slipped
off to the ring, was quickly drawing on his slippers.
By this time Mr. Sully was looking at him, wondering why Phil did
not get out of the ring, for another act was coming on, the
performers for which already were moving down the concourse.
All at once the Circus Boy threw himself to the back of his
mount, landing astride.
Phil brought his riding whip down on the back of the surprised
animal with a force that sent the horse forward with a snort.
They bounded out of the ring.  Instead, however, of turning
toward the paddock exit, Phil headed straight for the other end
of the tent.  There an exit led into the menagerie tent, or where
that tent had been, for by this time it had been taken down and
carted away to the train.  A canvas flap hung loosely over the
entrance, but it was not fastened down, as Phil well knew, being
left free so people could pass in and out at will.
It was the voice of Sully and might have been heard in every
part of the big top, though the people did not know what the
command meant.
For the moment the circus attendants did not understand either.
They had not noticed Phil riding away in the wrong direction.
"Stop him, I say!"
An attendant discovered what was going on and started on a
run for Phil, who brought his whip down on the flanks of the
ring horse again and again, driving the animal straight at
the attendant.  The result was that the fellow was bowled
over in a twinkling.  The horse cleared the man at a bound.
At this the audience roared.  They saw that something unusual was
taking place, though they did not understand what it all meant.
Half a dozen men ran toward Phil, while Sully himself was
charging down the concourse as fast as he could go, roaring out
his commands at the top of his powerful voice.
"Get a horse and follow him!" he shouted.  "Run back and send one
of the men out around the tent to head him off!  He's running
away with my best ring horse!"
Phil swept through the exit, bowling over two men who were
standing there on guard, and nearly running down a group of
boys who were standing just outside trying to get a glimpse
into the tent.
As he gained the outer air he heard the hoof beats of a running
horse bearing down on him from the left side of the big top.
The Circus Boy knew what that meant.  They were after
him already.
OUTWITTING THE PURSUERS
"Oh, if only I had a faster horse!" Forrest breathed.  "I am
afraid this old ring horse never will be able to get away
Phil was urging the animal with voice and whip, but it was
difficult to get the animal into a faster pace than his regular
ring gait--the gait that he had been following for many years.
This was scarcely faster than a man could trot.
Phil espied a pole wagon partially loaded, just ahead of him.
At sight of it a sudden idea occurred to him.  He acted at once.
Riding close to the wagon the lad slipped off and, giving the
horse a sharp blow with the whip over one hip, Phil ducked under
The ring horse galloped on a few rods and then stopped.
"I guess it's time I was getting away from here," decided
the lad.  "I'll be caught sure, if I do not hurry."
The lot was in an uproar.  Men were running this way and that,
and above the din could be heard the voice of the owner, roaring
Phil, being still in his pink tights, was a conspicuous figure.
He knew that if a ray from a torch should chance to rest on him
for a moment, they would discover him at once.
Running in a crouching position the boy made for the further side
of the lot, where he hoped to get far enough away so that he
could straighten up and make better time.
He did finally reach a safe place, and climbing a board fence,
dropped on the other side and lay down to await developments.
These were not long coming.  All at once he discovered half a
dozen men running directly toward him.  Whether they had caught
sight of him or not, he did not know.  He did know that it was
time to leave.
Phil left.  Springing up, he fairly flew over the ground.
The men caught sight of him, as he realized when one of them
uttered a yell.  But Phil was a faster runner than any of them
and in a few minutes, darting this way and that, and finally
doubling on his tracks in a wide circle, he succeeded in
outwitting them.
"The question is, what am I going to do now?" he asked himself,
pausing abruptly.  "In this rig I don't dare go into the town, or
they will nab me on some trumped up charge and then I shall be
worse off.  Now I am free, even if I haven't got much on me in
the way of clothing.  I might as well not have anything so far as
keeping warm is concerned."  Phil shivered, for the night was
cool and a heavy dew falling.
"I know what I'll do.  I'll slip back to the lot and perhaps I
shall be able to find something to put on.  There's usually
plenty of coats lying about on the wagons."
Now that the uproar had ceased Phil crept back toward the circus
lot, lying down in the grass whenever he heard a sound near him
and peering into the darkness.
At the risk of being discovered he crawled up to a wagon, climbed
aboard and searched it diligently for clothes.  He found none.
Keenly disappointed, Phil made his way to the pole wagon under
which he had taken refuge in his first effort at getting away.
This, he found, was loaded ready to be taken to the train.
At any moment, now, a team might be hitched to it.
"I guess I'll have to hurry!" muttered the lad.  Phil's knowledge
of circus affairs stood him in good stead now.
To the boy's delight, he found a bundle in which were a coat and
a pair of overalls, rolled up and stowed under the driver's seat.
"Fine!" chuckled Phil.  "It's a good deal like stealing, but I
have to have them and I'll send the fellow a new pair if ever I
get back to my own show.  He'll be mad in the morning when he
goes to get his clothes.  I wish I had a hat and pair of shoes.
But I guess I ought to be thankful for what I already have."
Saying this, Phil dropped from the wagon and quickly got into
the clothes.  They were old and dirty, but he did not mind that.
They were clothes and they would cover his conspicuous ring
costume, which was the most important thing for him to consider
at the present moment.
"Now, I'll buy a ticket and get started for Corinto," he decided.
Phil reached under the neck of his shirt for his little bag
"Oh, pshaw!  I've lost it.  Let me see, did I put my money in
there before I entered the ring?"
For the life of him he was unable to say whether he had done so,
or whether his money was still in his clothes back in the
dressing tent.
"Well, I shall never see that money again, I am thinking.  If I
left it in my clothes it is gone by this time, and if I didn't it
is gone anyway," was his logical conclusion.
The first thing to be done now was to get off the lot, which
Phil did as quickly as possible.  Clad in the soiled, well-worn
garments with his coat buttoned tightly about his neck, the lad
attracted no special attention.  Getting well away from the
circus grounds, he halted to consider what his next move
"I guess I'll go over to the station and get some information,"
he decided.  This he did, but the lights looked so bright in the
station that he did not consider it prudent to enter.  So Phil
waited about until he saw one of the railroad switchmen coming in
from the yards.
"How far is it to Corinto, please?" he asked.
"Fifty miles."
"Whew!  So far as that?"
"Yes.  Belong to the show?"
"Well, not exactly.  I'm with them, but I can't say that I belong
to the outfit, and I'm glad I don't."
"Should think you would be glad," growled the switchman, who
evidently held the Sully combination in no high regard.
"Which way do the trains go for Corinto?"
"That way.  That track runs right through without a break.
It's a single track road all the way."
"Thank you."
"Going to hit the ties?"
"I'm likely to before I get there," laughed Phil, again thanking
his informant and starting away, for he saw some people
approaching whom he thought belonged to the show.
Leaning up against a freight car the lad considered what he had
better do.  At first he was inclined to try to steal a ride on
the circus train, but after thinking the matter over he concluded
that this would be dangerous.
"If they catch me again they surely will handle me pretty
roughly, and they may throw me off the train.  A few knocks more
or less might not make much difference, but I am not anxious to
be thrown from a rapidly moving circus train.  I guess I'll walk.
Let me see, tomorrow will be Sunday, and it is fifty miles
to Corinto.  I should be able to make the town by tomorrow
night sometime.  Yes, I'll try it."
Having formed this resolve, Phil started manfully off for his
long walk to Corinto.  He did not stop to consider that he would
be hungry before he got there.
He left the yards, for these were now full of employees busily
engaged in loading the cars.  Off near the outskirts of the town
he turned back to the tracks.
For two hours he plodded along cheerfully, but by this time the
rough traveling over the ties so hurt his feet, clad as they were
in light slippers, that he could scarcely walk.  Phil took off
the slippers and trotted about in the damp grass at the side of
the railroad track, until getting some relief, then started
An hour later the first of the circus trains thundered by him.
He could see the dim lights in the sleepers, and now and then
he made out the figure of a man stretched out under a cage on
"Anyway, I would rather be walking than locked up in that narrow
linen closet," decided the Circus Boy philosophically, once more
taking up his weary journey.
At sunrise Phil found that he was too tired to go much further
without taking a rest, so, as soon as he found a wooded place,
he climbed a fence and lay down in the shade of the trees, where
he quickly went to sleep.
The afternoon was well along when finally he awakened, sore and
stiff in every joint.
"If I should try to ride a bareback horse now I should fall
off for sure," he moaned, rubbing his lame spots vigorously.
"My, but I am hungry!  I wonder how far I am from Corinto?"
A mile post a little further along told him that he had covered
just twenty miles of his journey.  He still had thirty miles to
go--a long distance for one in his condition.
All during the rest of the day Phil was obliged to take
frequent rests.  Whenever he came to a stream he would halt
and thrusting his feet into the cooling water, keep them there
for some time.  This helped him considerably, for his feet
were swollen and feverish.  The sun beating down on his head
made him dizzy and faint, which was made the more disturbing
because of his empty stomach.
He managed, just before sunset, to get a sandwich at a farmhouse,
though he was looked upon with suspicion by the housewife who
gave him the food.  Phil offered to do something to pay for the
slender meal, but the woman refused and bade him be on his way.
"I don't blame her.  I must be a tough looking customer," grinned
the boy, again climbing the fence and starting along the track.
He fought shy of villages during daylight, fearing that he might
be arrested for vagrancy and locked up.  That would defeat
"I simply must get to Corinto and warn Mr. Sparling," he gritted.
"He doesn't know the plans these people have to harm him.  If it
were not for that I wouldn't try to go any further today.
I could get somebody to help me out for a day or so, until I
could write to Mr. Sparling."
Now and then he met a tramp or two, but none that he thought
looked any more disreputable than he himself did.  He passed the
time of day pleasantly, with such, and continued on his way.
Late in the evening he once more lay down for a rest.  But Phil
did not permit himself to sleep long.  He feared he should not
be able to wake up until morning if he did, and then he never
would reach the show town in time to warn Mr. Sparling of the
impending danger.
At daylight he was still ten miles from his destination.
"I must make it.  I shall make it!" he breathed, starting on a
run, having found a path at the side of the track.
However, he could not keep this up for long, and was soon obliged
to settle back into his former slow pace.
At last Phil came in sight of the church spires of a town.
"I believe that is Corinto," he said, shading his eyes and
peering off at the distant town.  "At any rate I can't be far
from it now."
The knowledge was almost as good as a meal.  Its effect on Phil
Forrest was magical.  He forgot all about his tender feet and
empty stomach as he swung into a good strong pace.
All at once he halted and listened.  The blare of the big horns
of a circus band reached his ears.
"The parade has started.  I must hurry now.  The Sully wretches
may do something to the parade," Phil cried, starting away on
a run.  Nor did he slacken his pace until he had gotten well into
the town.  Now he could hear two bands playing, and knew that the
rival parades were under way.
"Where is the circus lot--where is the parade," he asked a man as
he dashed by.
The man pointed off to the right and Phil took the next corner
with a rush.  As he swung into that street he saw the banners
of the Sparling show fluttering in the breeze as the parade
moved majestically toward him.  Taking to the street, for the
sidewalks were crowded, Phil ran with all speed.  Mr. Sparling,
in his carriage at the head, saw him coming.  At first he did
not recognize the lad; then all at once he discovered who the
Phil dashed up to the carriage.  Mr. Sparling reached out a hand
and pulled him in.
"Phil!" he cried.
"Quick, get the tents guarded!  Sully's gang are going to cut the
guy ropes.  Look out for the parade too.  I suspect they will try
to break it up!"
THE BATTLE OF THE ELEPHANTS
"Yes, hurry!" and Phil sank back, weak from lack of food and the
severe strain he had put upon himself.
Mr. Sparling grasped the meaning of the lad's words in a flash.
Snatching a whistle from his pocket he blew two short,
shrill blasts.  A mounted man came riding up at a gallop.
"Go to the lot!  Have the tents surrounded.  Let no one through
who doesn't belong to the show.  I trust you to look out for
our property.  An attempt may be made to do us damage while we
are out on parade.  Now, ride!"
The man did ride.  He whirled his horse and set it at a run down
the line, headed toward the circus lot.
"I've got to get back there myself, Phil.  Can you stand it to
stay in the carriage until it reaches the lot?"
"Yes, but I don't look fit.  I--"
"Sit up and look wise.  The people will think you are a clown and
they'll split their sides laughing.  I'll talk with you later.
You must have had a rough time of it."
"I have had."
Mr. Sparling jumped out of the carriage, and, ordering a rider to
dismount, took the latter's horse, on which he, too, rode back to
the lot with all speed.
Phil pulled himself together.  Half a block further on the
people, espying him, did laugh as Mr. Sparling had said
Phil grinned out of sheer sympathy.
"I must look funny riding in this fine carriage with four
white horses drawing me through the streets.  I don't blame
them for laughing.  If I had something to eat, now, I would
be all right.  I am getting to have as much of an appetite as
Teddy Tucker has.  I--"
Phil paused, listening intently.
"I hear another band and it is coming nearer," he exclaimed.
"That must be the Sully show.  I forgot in my excitement, to ask
Mr. Sparling about them.  I wonder where they are?"
The music of the rival band grew louder and louder, but strain
his eyes and ears as he would, Phil was unable to locate the
other show's line of parade.
"Where's that band?" he called up to the driver of his carriage.
"Off that side of the town, I guess," he answered, waving his
whip to the right of them.
"Well, I think they are pretty close to us and I don't like the
looks, or rather the sound of things."
At that moment Phil's carriage was drawn across an
intersecting street.  He looked up the street quickly.
"There they are!" he cried.
Less than a quarter of a block up the street he saw the other
parade sweeping down upon them, bands playing, flags flying
and banners waving.  Phil's quick, practiced eyes saw
something else too.  The elephants were leading the rival
parade, with horsemen immediately at their rear, the band
still further back.
This being so unusual in a parade, the Circus Boy knew that there
must be some reason for the peculiar formation.  The elephants
should have been further back in the line, the same as were those
of the Sparling show.
Phil divined the truth instantly.
"They're going to break up our parade!" he cried.  "That's what
they are hoping to do.  Drive on!  I'm going to get out and run
back to tell the parade manager.  They'll do us a lot of damage."
Phil leaped from the carriage and ran down the street, his coat
wide open showing his pink riding shirt beneath it.
"Where's the parade manager?" he cried.
"Gone to the lot.  Boss sent him back."
Phil groaned.  Something must be done and done quickly.
The rival parade must be nearing their street by this time.
A thought occurred to him.  Phil dashed for the elephant herd.
"Mr. Kennedy!"
"Sully's show is going to run into us at that corner there."
"They don't dare!"
"They do and they will.  Swing your elephants out of line and
throw them across that intersecting street.  I'll bet they won't
get by our bulls in a hurry."
"Great!  Great, kid!  I'd never thought of that."
"You'll have to hurry.  The other fellows are almost here and
their elephants are leading the parade.  Sully's just looking
for trouble!"
The voice of the elephant trainer uttered a series of
shrill commands that sounded like so many explosions.
The elephants understood.  They swung quickly out of
line and went lumbering down the street.
"Hey, there, that you, Phil?"
It was Teddy on old Emperor's back in the same frog costume that
he had worn for that purpose the first season with the show.
"Yes, what's left of me," answered Phil, running fast to keep up
with the swiftly moving elephants.
Just before reaching the intersecting street he managed to get
ahead of Kennedy and his charges.
"Hurry, hurry!  They're right here," howled the Circus Boy.
The trainer, with prod and voice, urged the elephants into even
quicker action than before.  Two minutes later they swung across
the street down which the rival parade was coming, and, at the
command of their keeper, the huge animals turned, facing the
other body of paraders.
"We're just in time!  There they are!" cried Phil excitedly.
"I should say so.  They were going to do what you said they
would, the scoundrels!"
"Can you hold them till our people get by, do you think?"
"Can I hold them?  I can hold them till all the mill ponds in
Canada freeze up!" exploded the elephant trainer.
Phil walked forward to meet the Sully parade.  The owner of that
show was well up toward the front of the line on horseback.
"You'll have to wait till our line gets by, sir," announced Phil,
with a suggestive grin.  "We've got your little game blocked,
Sully fairly hurled the word at the disreputable looking
"Yes; you see I got away.  Are you going to stop?"
"No, not for any outfit that James Sparling runs.  Where is he?
Afraid to come out and show himself, eh?  Sends a runaway kid out
to speak for him.  Get out of the way, or I'll run you down!"
Phil's eyes snapped.
"You had better not try it, if you know what's good for you!"
"Move on!  Break through their line!" commanded Sully.
Phil turned and waved his hand.
"They are going to try to break through, Mr. Kennedy," he called.
Kennedy uttered several quick commands.  The Sully elephants
swung down toward him, their trunks raised high in the air.
The leader, a big tusker, uttered a shrill cry.
It was the elephants' battle cry, but Phil did not know it.
Kennedy did.
For the first time, thus far, the Sparling herd of elephants
began to show signs of excitement.  Their trainer quieted them
somewhat with soothing words here, a sharp command there, and
occasionally a prod of the hook.
All at once the leading tusker of the Sully herd lunged straight
at old Emperor.  In another instant nearly every elephant in each
herd had chosen an opponent and the battle was on in earnest.
Trumpetings, loud shrieks of rage and mighty coughs made the more
timid of the people flee to places of greater safety.
As the crash of the meeting elephants came, Phil ran back to the
street where his own parade was standing.
"Move on!" he shouted.  "Follow your route without the elephants.
And you, bandmaster, keep your men playing.  When you have gone
by, we will give the other show a chance to go on if there's
enough left of them to do so."
Realizing that Phil had given them sensible advice, the Sparling
show moved on with band playing and colors waving, but above the
uproar could be heard the thunder of the fighting elephants.
Two of the rival show's elephants had been tumbled into a ditch
by the roadside.  Then Kennedy had a lively few minutes to keep
his own animals from following and putting an end to the enemies
they had tumbled over.
The tusks of the two big elephants, when they met, sounded like
the report of a pistol.  Such sledge hammer blows as these two
monsters dealt each other made the spectators of the remarkable
battle gasp.
All at once they saw something else that made them stare
On the back of Emperor, lying prone was stretched a
strange figure.  From it they saw the head of a boy emerge.
Slowly the frog costume that he had worn, slipped from him
and dropped to the ground.
"Teddy!" shouted Phil.  "He'll be killed!"
"W-o-w!" howled Teddy Tucker, who had been so frightened in the
beginning that he could not get down, and now he could not if
"Let go and jump off!  I'll catch you!" shouted Phil.
"I--I can't."
"Mr. Kennedy, can't you get him off?"
But the trainer had his hands more than full keeping his charges
in line, for at all hazards they must not be allowed to get away
from him, as in their present excited state there was no telling
what harm they might do.
The Sparling people suddenly uttered a great shout.  Emperor was
slowly forcing his antagonist backward, the Sully elephant
gradually giving ground before the mighty onslaught of
old Emperor.  Seeing their leader weakening, the other elephants
also began retreating until the line was slowly forced back
against Sully's line of march.  The owner was riding up and down
in a frightful rage, alternately urging his trainer to rally his
elephants, and hurling threats at Phil Forrest and the
organization he represented.
"Had we better not call our bulls off, Mr. Kennedy?"
shouted Phil.  "Our parade has gone by this time."
"Yes, if I can.  I don't know whether I can stop them now
"You get the others away.  I'll try to take care of Emperor
and Jupiter.  Emperor will give in shortly, after he knows
the other elephant is whipped."
"He won't give in till he kills him," answered Kennedy.
"Better look out.  He's blind, crazy mad."
"I'm not afraid of him.  Hang on now, Teddy.  We will have you
out of your difficulty in a few minutes."
Teddy had been hanging on desperately, his eyes large
and staring.  Every time the long trunk of Sully's big tusker was
raised in the air, Teddy thought it was being aimed at his head
and shrank closer to Emperor's back.  But the tusker probably
never saw Teddy at all.  He was too busy protecting himself from
old Emperor's vicious thrusts.
At last the tusker began to retreat in earnest.  First he would
turn, running back a few rods; then he would whirl to give a
moment's battle to Emperor.
Emperor was following him doggedly.
Phil decided that it was time to act.  He rushed up to Emperor's
head during one of these lulls and called commandingly.
Emperor, with a sweep of his trunk, hurled Phil Forrest to the
side of the street.  But Phil, though shaken up a bit, was not
harmed in the least.
He was up and at his huge friend almost at once.
"Emperor!  Emperor!" he shouted, getting nearer and nearer to the
head of the enraged beast.
Finally Phil stepped up boldly and threw both arms about
Emperor's trunk.
"Steady, steady, Emperor!" he commanded.
This time the elephant did not hurl Phil away.  Instead, he
stopped hesitatingly, evidently not certain whether he
should plunge on after his enemy or obey the command of his
little friend.
Phil tucked the trunk under his arm confidently.
"That's a good fellow!  Come along now, and we'll have a whole
bag of peanuts when we get back to the lot."
The elephant coughed understandingly, it seemed.  At least he
turned about, though with evident reluctance, and meekly followed
the Circus Boy, his trunk still tucked under the latter's arm.
The Sully elephants had been whipped and driven off, though none
had been very seriously injured.  Some fences had been knocked
over and a number of people nearly frightened to death--but that
was all.  Phil had saved the day for his employer's show and had
come out victorious.
The Circus Boy was in high glee as he led Emperor back toward
the lot, where the parade was drawing in by the time he
reached there.
Teddy, on the big elephant's head, was waving his arms excitedly.
"We licked 'em!  We licked 'em!" he howled, as he caught sight of
Mr. Sparling hurrying toward them.
CHAPTER XVII
MONKEYS IN THE AIR
As the result of that victory, the Sparling shows did a great
business in Corinto.  The owner, considering that his rival had
been severely enough punished, made no further effort to have him
brought to justice, though Phil could hardly restrain him from
making Sully suffer for the indignities he had heaped on
young Forrest.
Phil found his money that day when he removed his ring shirt.
The string that had fastened his money bag about his neck had
parted, letting the bag drop.  This money he handed to
Mr. Sparling as rightfully belonging to him.
Of course the showman refused it, and wanted to make Phil a
present besides, for the great service he had rendered.  As it
chanced, one of Mr. Sparling's own staff was attending the Sully
show when Phil made his escape, and much of the latter's
discomfort might have been prevented had he only been aware
of that fact.
Teddy assumed the full credit for the victory of old Emperor,
and no one took the trouble to argue the question with him.
Soon after these exciting incidents the Sparling shows left
Canada behind and crossed the Niagara River.  It was with a
long drawn sigh of relief that they set eyes on the Stars and
Stripes again.
After showing at the Falls, the outfit headed southwest.
The season was getting late, the cotton crop in the south was
going to market, and it was time for all well managed shows whose
route lay that way to get into Dixie Land.  The Circus Boys, too,
were anxious to tour the sunny south again.  This time they were
going to follow a route they had never been over before,
something that was still a matter of great interest to the boys.
Mr. Sparling upon learning that there was a traitor in his
camp who was supplying secret information to the Sully show as
to the route of the Sparling circus, had at once set a watch
for the offender.  It was not long before the traitor was
caught red-handed.  He was, of course, dismissed immediately,
despised by all who knew what he had been doing.
No more had been seen of the Sully Hippodrome Circus after the
meeting of the two organizations in Corinto, though that crowd
had been heard of occasionally as hovering on the flanks of the
Sparling shows.
"I don't care where they go," said Mr. Sparling, "so long as they
don't get in the same county with me.  I am liable to lose my
temper if they get that near to me again, and then something will
happen for sure."
The Sparling show got into the real southland when it made
Memphis, Tennessee, on October first, a beautiful balmy southern
fall day.  All season Phil had been keeping up his practice on
the trapeze bar, until he had become a really fine performer.
He had never performed in public, however, and hardly thought he
would have a chance to do so that season.  He hoped not, if it
were to be at some other performer's expense, as had usually
been the case.
"When somebody gets hurt it's Phillip who takes his place," said
the lad to himself.
"Which means that you are always on the job," replied
Mr. Sparling who had chanced to overhear the remark.  No serious
accidents had occurred in sometime, however, and it was hoped by
everyone that none would.  Accidents, while they are accepted by
show people in the most matter-of-fact way, always cast a gloom
over the show.  Even the loss of a horse will make the
sympathetic showman sad.
After a splendid business in Memphis the show ran into
Mississippi where it played a one day stand at Clarksdale, and
where the showmen experienced the liveliest time they had had
since they met the Sully organization in Canada.
The afternoon performance had just come to an end, and the people
were getting ready to leave their seats under the big top, when a
great commotion was heard under the menagerie top.
Most of the performers were in the dressing tent, changing their
dress for supper, but a roar from the audience, followed by
shouts of laughter, attracted their attention sharply, and as
soon as they could clothe themselves sufficiently, the performers
rushed out into the ring again.
Suddenly the people, upon looking toward the menagerie tent,
saw a troop of diminutive animals sweeping into the big top.
At first the people did not recognize them.
"They're monkeys!" shouted someone.  "They're going to give us a
monkey show."
"No.  The beasts have gotten out of their cage,"
answered another.
He was right.  A careless attendant had hooked the padlock of the
monkey cage in the staple, but had not locked it.  An observant
simian had noticed this, but did not make use of his knowledge
until the keeper had gone away.
Peering out to make sure that no one was looking, the monkey
reached out its hand and deftly slipped the padlock from
The rest was easy.  A bound against the cage door left the way
open, and the hundred monkeys in the cage, big and little were
not slow to take advantage of the opportunity thus offered.
Chattering wildly, they poured from the wagon like a
small cataract.  A moment later the attendants discovered them
and gave chase.  At about the same time the monkeys discovered
that something was going on under the big top.  Being curious
little beasts, they concluded to investigate.  Then, too, the
attendants were pressing pretty close to them, so the whole herd
bolted into the circus tent with a shouting crowd of circus men
The yells of the audience, added to those of the attendants, sent
the nimble little fellows scurrying up ropes, center and quarter
poles, all the time keeping up their merry chatter, for freedom
was a thing they had not enjoyed since they had been captured in
their jungle homes.
Some of the ring men tried to shake the monkeys down from the
poles, just as they would shake an apple tree to get the fruit.
But the little fellows were not thus easily dislodged.
The attempt served only to send them higher up.  They seemed
to be everywhere over the heads of the people.
Finally, having thoroughly investigated the top of the tent,
several of the larger simians decided to take a closer look at
the audience.  At the moment the audience did not know of this
plan, or they might have taken measures to protect themselves.
The first intimation they had of the plans of the mischievous
monkeys, was when a woman uttered a piercing shriek, startling
everyone in the tent.
"What is it?" shouted someone.
"Oh, my hat!  My hat!" she cried after discovering what had
happened to her.
The eyes of the audience wandered from her up to where a monkey
was dangling by its tail far above their heads.  The animal had
in its hands a flower-covered hat, so large that when the monkey
tried to put it on, it almost entirely concealed his body.
So suddenly had the hat been torn from the head of the owner
that hatpins were broken short off while the little thief
"shinned" a rope with his prize.
Failing to make the hat fit, Mr. Monkey began pulling the flowers
out; then picking them to pieces, he showered the particles down
over the heads of the audience.
This was great sport for the monkey, but no fun at all for the
owner of the hat.  The woman hurried from her seat, red-faced
and humiliated.  Phil Forrest had chanced to be a witness to
the act.  He stepped forward as she descended to the concourse
and touched his hat.
"Was the hat a valuable one, madam?" he asked.
"I am sorry.  If you will come with me to the office of the
manager I am quite sure he will make good your loss."
"Do you belong to the circus, sir?"
The woman gladly accompanied him to Mr. Sparling, and there was
made happy by having the price of her ruined hat handed over to
her without a word of objection.
In the meantime trouble had been multiplying at a very rapid rate
under the big top.  Everyone was shouting, attendants were
yelling orders to each other, and now Mr. Sparling, hurrying in,
added his voice to the din.
Hats in all parts of the tent seemed to fly toward the roof
almost magically, to come tumbling down a few minutes later
hopeless wrecks.
Once the monkeys got a tall silk hat.  This they used for an
aerial football, tossing it to each other as they leaped from
rope to rope at their dizzy height.
One monkey was discovered peering down at a certain point in
the audience with an almost fascinated gaze.  Something down
there attracted him.  Cautiously the little fellow let himself
down a rope to the side wall, then, unnoticed by the people,
crept down through the aisle.  Slowly one black little hand
reached up and jerked from the head of an old gentleman a pair
of gold spectacles.
The man uttered a yell as he felt the spectacles being torn from
him, and made a frantic effort to save them.  But the glasses, in
the hands of the monkey, were already halfway up the aisle and a
moment more the monkey was twisting the bows into hard knots and
hurling pieces of glass at the spectators.
"Catch them!  Catch them!" shouted Mr. Sparling.
"How, how?" answered a showman.
"Somebody--"
"I'll go up and get them," spoke up Teddy Tucker.  Teddy simply
could not keep out of trouble.  He was sure to be in the thick of
it whenever a disturbance was abroad.
"That's a good plan.  How are you going to do it?"
"I'll show you.  I'll shake 'em down if you will catch them when
they reach the ring."
"Yes, but be careful that you don't fall."
"Don't you worry about me!"
Teddy untied a rope from a quarter pole, straightened it out
and throwing off his coat and hat, began going up the rope hand
over hand.  The monkeys peered down curiously from their perches,
chattering and discussing the little figure that was on its way
up to join them.
Teddy reached the platform of the trapeze performers.  From there
he climbed a short rope that led to a smaller trapeze bar higher
up, thence to the aerial bars, where the whole bunch of monkeys
were sitting, scolding loudly.
"Shoo!" said Teddy.  "Get out of here!  Better get a net and
catch them down there," shouted Teddy, standing up on the bars
without apparent thought of his own danger.
"Look out that we don't have to catch you!" called
Mr. Sparling warningly.
Teddy picked his way gingerly across the bars shooing the monkeys
ahead of him, now holding to a guide rope so that he might not by
any chance slip through and drop to the ring forty feet below
him, and all the while waving his free hand to frighten
the monkeys.
A few of them leaped to a rope some eight or ten feet away, down
which they went to the ring and up another set of ropes before
the show people below could catch them.
While Teddy was thus engaged, the whole troop of monkeys swung
back on the under side of the aerial bars beneath his feet.
"Shoo!  Shoo!" he shouted.  "You rascals, I'll fix you when I get
hold of you, and don't you forget that for a minute."
He turned, cautiously making his way back, when the lively,
mischievous little fellows shinned up the rope by which he had
let himself down to the serial bars.
"I'll drive you all over the top of this tent, but I'll get you,"
Teddy cried.
Down below the audience was shouting and jeering.  The people
refused to leave the tent so long as such an exhibition was
going on.  No one paid the least attention to the "grand concert"
that was in progress at one end of the big top, so interested
were all in the Circus Boy's giddy chase.
"I'm afraid he will fall and kill himself," groaned Mr. Sparling.
"You can't hurt Teddy," laughed Phil.  "He can go almost anywhere
that a monkey could climb.  But he'll never get them." Phil was
laughing with the others, for the sight was really a funny one.
"Oh, look what they've done!" exclaimed one of the performers.
"They've pulled up the rope," said Mr. Sparling hopelessly.
"Now he certainly is in a fix," laughed Phil.
The monkeys, after shinning the rope, had mischievously hauled it
up after them, acting with almost human intelligence.  One of
them carried the free end of it off to one side and dropped it
over a guy rope.  This left Tucker high and dry on the aerial
bars with no means at hand to enable him to get back to earth.
The audience caught the significance of it and howled lustily.
"Now, I should like to know how you are going to get down?"
shouted Mr. Sparling.
Teddy looked about him questioningly, and off at the grinning
monkeys, that perched on rope and trapeze, appeared to be
enjoying his discomfiture to the full.
"I--I guess I'll have to do the world's record high dive!"
he called down.  There seemed no other way out of it.
CHAPTER XVIII
TEDDY TAXES A DROP
"Throw him a rope!" shouted someone.
"Yes, give him a rope," urged Mr. Sparling.
"No one can throw a rope that high," answered Phil.  "I think the
first thing to be done is to get the monkeys and I have a plan by
which to accomplish it."
"What's your plan?"
"Have their cage brought in.  We should have thought of
that before."
"That's a good idea," nodded Mr. Sparling.  "I always have said
you had more head than any of the others of this outfit, not
excepting myself.  Get the monkey cage in here."
While this was being done Phil hurried out into the menagerie
tent, where, at a snack stand, he filled his pockets with peanuts
and candy; then strolled back, awaiting the arrival of the cage.
"We shall be able to capture our monkeys much more easily if the
audience will please leave the tent," announced Mr. Sparling.
"The show is over.  There will be nothing more to see."
The spectators thought differently.  There was considerable to be
seen yet.  No one made a move to leave, and the manager gave up
trying to make them, not caring to attempt driving the people out
The cage finally was drawn up between the two rings.
This instantly attracted the attention of the little beasts.
Phil stood off from the cage a few feet.
"Now everybody keep away, so the monkeys can see me,"
he directed.  Phil then began chirping in a peculiar way, giving
a very good imitation of the monkey call for food.  At the same
time he began slowly tossing candy and peanuts into the cage.
There was instant commotion aloft.  Such a chattering and
scurrying occurred up there as to cause the spectators to gaze in
open-mouthed wonder.  But still Phil kept up his weird chirping,
continuing to toss peanuts and candy into the cage.
"As I live, they are coming down," breathed Mr. Sparling in
amazement, "never saw anything like it in my life!"
"I always told you that boy should have been a menagerie man
instead of a ring performer," nodded Mr. Kennedy, the
elephant trainer.
"He is everything at the same time," answered Mr. Sparling.
"It is a question as to whether or not he does one thing better
than another.  There they come.  Everybody stand back.  I hope
the people keep quiet until he gets through there.  I am afraid
the monkeys never will go back into the cage, though."
There was no hesitancy on the part of the monkeys.  They began
leaping from rope to rope, swinging by their tails to facilitate
their descent, until finally the whole troop leaped to the top of
the cage and swung themselves down the bars to the ground.
Phil lowered his voice to a low, insistent chirp.  One monkey
leaped into the cage, the others following as fast as they could
stretch up their hands and grab the tail board of the wagon.
Instantly they began scrambling for the nuts and candies that lay
strewn over the floor.
The last one was inside.  Phil sprang to the rear of the cage
and slammed the door shut, throwing the padlock in place and
snapping it.
"There are your old monkeys," he cried, turning to Mr. Sparling
with flushed, triumphant face.
The audience broke out into a roar, shouting, howling and
stamping on the seats at the same time.
"Now, you may go," shouted Mr. Sparling to the audience.
"Phil, you are a wonder.  I take off my hat to you," and the
showman, suiting the action to the word, made a sweeping bow
to the little Circus Boy.
Still the audience remained.
"Well, why don't you go?"
"What about the kid up there near the top of the house?"
questioned a voice in the audience.
"That's so.  I had forgotten all about him," admitted the owner
of the show.
"Oh, never mind me.  I'm only a human being," jeered Tucker, from
his perch far up near the top of the tent.  This brought a roar
of laughter from everybody.
"We shall have to try to cast a rope up to him."
"You can't do it," answered Phil firmly.  Nevertheless the effort
was made, Teddy watching the attempts with lazy interest.
"No, we shan't be able to reach him that way," agreed Mr.
Sparling finally.
"Hey down there," called Teddy.
"Well, what is it?  Got something to suggest?"
"Maybe--maybe if you'd throw some peanuts and candy in my cage I
might come down."
This brought a howl of laughter.
"I don't see how we are going to make it," said Mr. Sparling,
shaking his head hopelessly.
"I'll tell you how we can do it," said Phil.
"Yes; I was waiting for you to make a suggestion.  I thought it
funny if you didn't have some plan in that young head of yours.
What is it?"
"What's the matter with the balloon?"
"The balloon?"
"Hurrah!  That's the very thing."
The balloon was a new act in the Sparling show that season.
A huge balloon had been rigged, but in place of the usual basket,
was a broad platform.  Onto this, as the closing act of the show,
a woman rode a horse, then the balloon was allowed to rise slowly
to the very dome of the big tent, carrying the rider and horse
The act was a decided novelty, and was almost as great a hit as
had been the somersaulting automobile of a season before.
The balloon stood swaying easily at its anchorage.
"Give a hand here, men.  Let the bag up and the boy can get on
the platform, after which you can pull him down."
"That won't do," spoke up Phil.  "He can't reach the platform.
Someone will have to go up and toss him a rope.  He can make the
rope fast and slide down it."
"I guess you are right, at that.  Who will go up?"
"I will," answered the Circus Boy.  "Give me that coil of rope."
Taking his place on the platform the lad rose slowly toward the
top of the tent as the men paid out the anchor rope.
"Halt!" shouted Phil when he found himself directly opposite
his companion.
"Think you can catch it, Teddy?"
"Well, here goes."
The rope shot over Teddy's head, landing in his outstretched arm.
"Be sure you make it good and fast before you try to shin down
it," warned Phil.
"I'll take care of that.  Don't you worry.  You might toss me a
peanut while I'm getting ready.  I'll go in my cage quicker."
Phil laughingly threw a handful toward his companion, three or
four of which Teddy caught, some in his mouth and some in his
free hand, to the great amusement of the spectators.
"They ought to pay an admission for that," grinned Phil.
"For seeing the animals perform.  You are the funniest animal
in the show at the present minute."
"Well, I like that!  How about yourself?" peered Teddy with
well-feigned indignation.
"I guess I must be next as an attraction," laughed the boy.
"I guess, yes."
"Haul away," called Phil to the men below him, and they started
to pull the balloon down toward the ground again.
"Get a net under Tucker there," directed Mr. Sparling.
"I'm not going to dive.  What do you think?" retorted Teddy.
"There is no telling what you may or may not do," answered
the showman.  "It is the unexpected that always happens
Phil nodded his approval of the statement.
In the meantime Teddy had made fast the end of the rope to the
aerial bar, and grasping the rope firmly in his hands, began
letting himself down hand under hand.
"Better twist your legs about the rope," called Phil.
"No.  It isn't neces--"
Just then Teddy uttered a howl.  The rope, which he had not
properly secured, suddenly slipped from the bar overhead.
Teddy dropped like a shot.
THE CIRCUS ON AN ISLAND
Teddy landed in the net with a smack that made the
spectators gasp.
"Are you hurt," cried Mr. Sparling, running forward.
Teddy got up, rubbing his shins gingerly, working his head from
side to side to make sure that his neck was properly in place.
"N-n-no, I guess not.  I'll bet that net got a clump that it
won't forget in a hurry, though.  Folks, the show is all over.
You may go home now," added Teddy, turning to the audience and
waving his hand to them.
The seats began to rattle as the people, realizing that there was
nothing more to be seen, finally decided to start for home.
"It is lucky, young man, that I had that net under you,"
announced Mr. Sparling.
"Lucky for me, but a sad blow to the net," answered Teddy
humorously, whereat Mr. Sparling shook his head hopelessly.
The tent was beginning to darken and the showman glanced
up apprehensively.
"What's the outlook?" he asked as Mr. Kennedy passed.
"Just a shower, I guess."
The owner strode to the side wall and peered out under the tent,
then crawled out for a survey of the skies.
"We are in for a lively storm," he declared.  "It may not break
until late tonight, and I hardly think it will before then.
Please tell the director to cut short all the acts tonight.
I want every stick and stitch off the lot no later than eleven
o'clock tonight."
"Shall we cut out the Grand Entry?"
"Yes, by all means.  If possible I should like to make the next
town before the storm breaks, as it's liable to be a long,
"I don't care.  I've got a rubber coat and a pair of rubber boots
with a hole in one of them," spoke up Teddy.
"And, Teddy Tucker," added the owner, turning to the Circus Boy.
"If you mix things up tonight, and delay us a minute anywhere,
I'll fire you.  Understand?"
Teddy shook his head.
"You don't?  Well, I'll see if I can make it plainer then."
"Why, Mr. Sparling, you wouldn't discharge me, now, would you?
Don't you know this show couldn't get along without me?"
The showman gazed sternly at Teddy for a moment, then his face
broke out in a broad smile.
"I guess you're right at that, my boy."
The cook tent came down without delay that afternoon, and on
account of the darkness the gasoline lamps had to be lighted
a full two hours earlier than usual.
The show at the evening performance was pushed forward with a
rush, while many anxious eyes were upon the skies, for it was
believed that the heaviest rainstorm in years was about to fall.
By dint of much hard work, together with a great deal of shouting
and racket, the tents were off the field by the time indicated by
Mr. Sparling, and loaded.  A quick start was made.  Long before
morning the little border town of Tarbert, their next stand,
was reached.
Mr. Sparling had all hands out at once.
"Get to the lot and pitch your tents.  Everything has got to be
up before daylight," he ordered.  "You'll have something to eat
just as soon as you get the cook tent in place."
That was inducement enough to make the men work with a will,
and they did.  The menagerie and circus tents had been laced
together, lying flat on the ground, when the storm broke.
"That will keep the lot dry, but hustle it!  Get the canvas up
before it is so soaked you can't raise it," commanded the owner.
By daylight the tents were in place, though men had to be
stationed constantly at the guy ropes to loosen them as they
strained tight from the moisture they absorbed.
The rain seemed to be coming down in sheets.  Fortunately the lot
chosen for pitching the tents was on a strip of ground higher
than anything about it, so the footing remained fairly solid.
But it was a cheerless outlook.  The performers, with their
rubber boots on, came splashing through a sea of mud and water
on their way to the cook tent that morning, Phil and Teddy with
"Looks like rain, doesn't it," greeted Teddy, as he espied
Mr. Sparling plodding about with a keen eye to the safety of
"I wish the outlook for business today were as good," was the
comprehensive answer.
When the hour for starting the parade arrived, the water over the
flats about them was so deep and the mud so soft that it was
decided to abandon the parade for that day.
"I almost wish we hadn't unloaded," said the owner.  "It looks
to me as if we might be tied up here for sometime."
"Yes," agreed Phil.  "The next question is how are the people
going to get here to see the show?"
"I was thinking of that myself.  The answer is easy, though."
"They won't come."
"Why?  Are they drowned out?"
"No; the town is high enough so they will not suffer much of any
damage, except as the water gets into their cellars.  No; they
are all right.  I wish we were as much so, but there'll be no use
in giving a show this afternoon."
"Wait a minute," spoke up Phil, raising one hand while he
considered briefly.
"Of course, you have an idea.  It wouldn't be you if you hadn't.
But I am afraid that, this time, you will fall short of
"No, not if you will let me carry out a little plan."
"What is it?"
"When I came over I noticed a strip of ground just a few rods to
the north of the lot, and running right into it, that was higher
than the flats.  It was a sort of ridge and fairly level on top."
"I didn't see that."
"I did.  It was showing above the water a few inches and looked
like hard ground.  If you don't mind getting wet I'll take you
over and point it out."
The showman agreed, though as yet he did not understand what
Phil's plan was.
Phil led the way to the north side of the lot, then turning
sharply to the left after getting his bearings, walked
confidently out into the water followed by Mr. Sparling.
The ground felt firm beneath their feet.  As a matter of fact it
was a stratum of rock running out from the nearby mountains.
"Boy, you've struck a way for us to get out when time comes for
us to do so.  That mud on the flats will be so soft, for several
days, that the wheels would sink in up to the hubs.  The stock
would get mired now, were they to try to go through."
"But not here."
"No; I rather think that's so.  What's your plan?"
"We have plenty of wagons that are not in use--take for instance
the pole wagons.  Why not send our wagons over to the village
and bring the people here?  I am sure they will enjoy that,"
suggested Phil.
"Splendid," glowed the showman.  "But I'm afraid the horses never
would be able to pull them over."
"Think not?"
"I said I was afraid they would not be able to."
"I had considered that, sir."
"Oh, you had?"
"Of course, I might have known you had.  Well, what is it?"
"I have an even better scheme, and it will be great advertising--
one that few people in town will be able to resist."
"Yes?  I am listening."
"Well, in the first place, have the long pole wagons fixed up to
bring the people over.  We can use our ring platforms to make a
bottom for the passengers to sit on."
"Yes, that will be easy."
"Then, take some side wall poles, stand them up along the sides
of the wagon and build a roof with canvas.  That will keep the
inside of the wagon as dry as a barn."
"A splendid idea.  But how are you going to get the folks over
here after you have done that?"
"Wait, I am coming to that.  What do you say to hitching the
elephants to the wagons and hauling the people back and forth?
Nothing like that has ever been done, has it?"
Mr. Sparling tossed up his hat regardless of the fact that the
rain was beating down on his head and running down his neck.
"Nothing ever been done to compare with it, since P. T. Barnum
ploughed up his farm with Jumbo.  By the great Dan Rice, that's
a scheme!" shouted Mr. Sparling enthusiastically.
"But you will have to hurry if you are going to put the plan into
operation," urged Phil.
"What would you suggest, Phil?"
"I would suggest that you send men into town on horseback, right
away, having them call at every house, at the post office, the
hotel and every other place they can think of, telling the people
what we propose to do.  Teddy and I will take horses and go out
with the rest, if you say so.  The rain won't hurt us, and
besides, it will be great fun.  What do you say, sir?"
Mr. Sparling hesitated for one brief second.
"Come on!" he shouted as with hat in hand he splashed toward the
lot followed a short distance behind by Phil.
The arrangements suggested by the Circus Boy were quickly made,
and a company of horsemen rode over to the village to tell the
people how they might see the show without getting wet.
While this was being done the pole wagons were being rigged
for the purpose, and the elephants were provided with harness
strong enough to stand the strain of the heavy loads they would
have to draw.
The wagons were to be driven along the village streets at one
o'clock, the circus to begin at half-past two.  That would give
the show people plenty of time to prepare for the performance.
The suggestion met with great enthusiasm.  Few people had ever
had the privilege of riding behind an elephant team, and they
gladly welcomed the opportunity.
At Phil's further suggestion a separate wagon had been prepared
for the colored people.  When all was ready the elephants were
first driven across the ridge without their wagons, to show the
animals that the footing was safe.  Then they were hooked to the
covered pole wagons and the work of transporting the village to
the lot was begun.
The show grounds were on an island, now, entirely surrounded
by water.  Some of the clowns had rigged up fishing outfits
and sat on the bank in the rain trying to catch fish, though
there probably was not a fish within a mile of them, according
to Phil's idea.
"That's good work for a fool," gloated Teddy.
"It takes a wise man to be a fool, young man," was the
clown's retort.
"Perhaps you don't know that the river has overflowed a few miles
above here, and that this place is full of fish?"
"No; I don't know anything of the sort.  The only water I see
coming is from right overhead.  Maybe there's fish swimming
around up there; I don't know.  Never caught any up
there myself."
After a time the clowns tired of their sport and went back to
their dressing tent to prepare for the afternoon performance, the
only performance that would be given that day, as it would not be
safe to try to transport the people across the water in the dark.
And, besides, the owner of the show hoped to be able to get his
show aboard the cars before night.
In the big top a slender rope had been stretched across the
blue seats from the arena back to the sidewall.  This was the
"color line."  On one side of it sat the colored people, on the
other the white people.
After all were seated, however, the line was taken down and
colored and white people sat elbow to elbow.  All were perfectly
satisfied, for the color line had been drawn.  The rest did
The show people entered into the spirit of the unusual exhibition
with the keenest zest, and the Sparling show had never given a
better entertainment than it did that afternoon.  The clowns,
even though they had not been successful as fishermen, where
wholly so when they entered the ring.  Teddy and his donkey,
which he had named January, after the manner of most clowns who
own these animals, set the whole tent roaring, while Shivers and
his "shadow" made a hit from the moment they entered.
"I've got the greatest bunch of people to be found in
this country," confided Mr. Sparling proudly to the surgeon.
"Especially those two boys, eh?"
"Yes.  They can't be beaten.  Neither can a lot of the others."
A fair-sized house had been brought over to see the show, and
after the performance was ended they were taken back to their
homes in the pole wagons, as they had been brought over.
"I'll tell you what you ought to do," said Teddy confidentially,
just before the show closed.
"Well, what is it?" questioned Mr. Sparling.
"You ought to leave those folks here."
"Leave them here?"
"Why, they couldn't get back, and they would have to go to the
evening performance again.  You'd get 'em going and coming then.
Do you see?"
The showman tipped back his head, laughing long and loud.
"Yes; I see."
"Then why not do it?"
"Young man, this show doesn't do things that way.  We do business
on the square, or we don't do it at all.  I admire your zeal, but
not your plan."
"Yes," agreed Phil, who stood near; "I sometimes think
Teddy Tucker's moral code does need bolstering up a bit."
"What's that?" questioned Teddy.  "What's a moral code?"
"I'll explain it to you some other time when we are not so busy,"
replied Phil.
"Nor so wet," added Mr. Sparling.  "You see, we want to come to
this town to show again some other time."
"I don't," responded Teddy promptly.  "I've had all I want of it
for the rest of my natural life.  I can get all the fun I want
out of performing on dry ground, instead of the edge of a lake
that you are expecting every minute to tumble into."
DISASTER BEFALLS THE FAT LADY
"Help, help!  Oh, help!"
"Coming," shouted Teddy Tucker, leaping from the platform of the
sleeping car where he had been lounging in the morning sun.
The Fattest Woman on Earth was midway down the steep railroad
embankment with the treacherous cinders slowly giving way beneath
her feet, threatening every second to hurl her to the bottom of
the embankment and into the muddy waters of a swollen stream that
had topped its banks as the result of the storm that had
disturbed the circus so much.
The Sparling shows did not succeed in getting fully away from
the island until the middle of the day following the events
just narrated.
This made it necessary to skip the next stand, so the show ran
past that place, intent on making St. Charles, Louisiana,
sometime that night.
The train had been flagged on account of a washout some distance
ahead, and while it was lying on the main track many of the show
people took the opportunity to drop off and gather flowers out in
the fields near the tracks.
The Fat Woman was one of these.  She had found it a comparatively
easy thing to slide down the bank further up the tracks, after
finding a spot where she could do so without danger of going
right on into the creek below.
But the return journey was a different matter.  She had succeeded
in making her way halfway up the bank when, finding herself
slipping backward she uttered her appeal for help.
"Stick your heels in and hold to it.  I'll be there in a minute,"
shouted Teddy, doing an imitation of shooting the chutes down the
embankment, digging in his own heels just in time to save himself
from a ducking in the stream.
"There goes that Tucker boy, headed for more trouble," nodded
a clown.  "Watch him if you want to see some fun.  Fat Marie is
in trouble already, and she's going to get into more in about
Teddy picked himself up, and, running up behind the Fat Woman,
braced his hands against her ample waist and began to push.
"Start your feet!  Start your feet!  Make motions as if you were
walking!" shouted Teddy.
Marie did not move.
"Oh, help!" she murmured.  "Help, help!"
"Go on.  Go on!  Do you think I can stay in this position all
day, holding up your five hundred pounds?  My feet are slipping
back already.  I'm treading water faster'n a race horse can run
right this minute."
"I guess he's started something for himself all right," jeered
the clown.  "Told you so.  Hey, there goes the whistle!
The train will be starting.  We'd better be making for
the sleeper."
All hands sought a more suitable climbing place, hurried up the
railroad embankment and ran for the train.  A crowd gathered on
the rear platform, where they jeered at Tucker and his burden.
"Come--come down here and help us out," howled Teddy.
"You--you're a nice bunch, to run away when a lady is in trouble!
Come down here, I say."
Just then the train started.
Phil, at that moment, was up forward in Mr. Sparling's car, else
he would have tried to stop the train; or, failing to do that,
he would have gone to his companion's assistance.
By this time Teddy had turned and was bracing his back against
the Fat Woman, his heels digging into the shifting cinders in a
desperate attempt to prevent the woman's slipping further down.
"You'll have to do something.  I'm no Samson.  I can't hold the
world on my back all the time, though I can support a piece of it
part of the time.  Do something!"
"I--I can't," wailed the Fat Woman.  "There goes the train, too.
We'll be left."
"No, we won't."
"Yes, we shall."
"No; we won't be left, 'cause--'cause we're left already.  Wow!
I'm going!  Save yourself!"
The cinders slipped from under Teddy's feet, and, with the heavy
burden bearing down upon him, he was unable to get sufficient
foothold to save himself.
The result was that Teddy sat down suddenly.  Fat Marie sat
down on him, and Teddy's yell might have been heard a long
distance away.  Those on the tail end of the circus train saw the
collapse, then lost sight of the couple as the train rolled
around a bend in the road.
Down the bank slid the Fat Woman, using Tucker as a toboggan,
with the boy yelling lustily.  Faster and faster did they slide.
Suddenly they landed in the muddy stream with a mighty splash,
Teddy still on the bottom of the heap.  When she found herself in
the water Marie struggled to get out, and Teddy quickly scrambled
up, mouth, eyes and ears so full of water that he could neither
see, hear nor speak for a moment.  He was blowing like a porpoise
and trying to swim out, but the swift current was tumbling him
along so rapidly that he found himself unable to reach the bank
only a few feet away.
Marie, screaming for help, floated down rapidly with the current.
When finally Teddy succeeded in getting his eyes open he
discovered that she had lodged against a tree across the stream,
where her cries grew louder and more insistent than ever.
Teddy was swept against her with a bump.  He frantically grabbed
for a limb of the fallen tree.  As he did so his legs were drawn
under it, so that it required all his strength to pull himself up
to the tree trunk.
He sat there rubbing the water out of his eyes and
breathing hard.
"Quick, get me out of here or I'll drown!" moaned the Fat Woman.
"Drown, if you want to.  I've got my own troubles just
this minute.  What did you ever get me into this mix-up for?
That's what I get for trying to be a good thing--"
Marie's screams waxed louder.
"All right.  If you'll only stop that yelling I'll get you on dry
land somehow.  Can't you pull yourself up nearer the bank?"
"No.  My dress is caught on something."
Teddy peered over, and, locating the place where she was caught,
tried to free her.  The lad was unable to do so with one hand,
so, in a thoughtless moment, he brought both hands to the task.
He lost his balance and plunged into the torrent head first, his
body disappearing under the log.  Teddy shot to the surface on
the other side, flat on his back.
The Circus Boy did not shout this time.  He was too angry to
do so.  He turned over and struck out for the bank which he
was fortunate enough to reach.  Quickly clambering up, Teddy
sat down to repeat his process of rubbing the water out of
"Are you going to let me lie here and drown?" cried the
"It looks that way, doesn't it, eh?"
Teddy got up and hurried to her just the same.  Throwing off
his wet coat he set to work with a will to get Marie out.
The water was shallow and she managed to help herself
somewhat, therefore after great effort Teddy succeeded in
towing her to land.  The woman was a sight and Teddy a
close second in this respect.
"I'm drowned," she moaned as he dragged her out on the bank,
letting her drop sharply.
"You only think you are.  I suppose you know what we've got to
do now, don't you?"
"We've got to walk to the next stand."
"How--how far is it?"
"Maybe a hundred miles."
As a matter of fact they were within five miles of St. Charles,
where the Sparling show was billed to exhibit that afternoon
and evening.
"I'm afraid they'll miss you in the parade today, but what do you
think will happen if we don't reach the show in time for the
performance this afternoon?"
"I--I don't know."
"I do.  We'll get fined good and proper."
"It--it's all your fault, Teddy Tucker."
Teddy surveyed her wearily.
"If you'd held me up I shouldn't have fallen in and--and--"
"Drowned," growled Teddy.
"And if you hadn't sat on me I shouldn't have fallen in, and
there you are.  Now, get up and we'll find a place to climb up
the bank.  We can't stay here all day and starve to death.
Come on, now."
"I--I can't."
"All right; then I'll go without you."  Teddy started away,
whereupon the Fat Woman wailed to him to come back, at the same
time struggling to her feet, bedraggled and wet, her hair full of
sand and her clothes torn.
"If they'd only start a beauty show in the side top you would
take first prize," grinned the boy.  "Hurry up."
Marie waddled along with great effort, making slow headway.
"We shall have to go further along before we can get up the bank.
That is, unless you want to take the chance of falling into the
creek again."
It was some distance to the place where the creek curved under
the railroad bed, and they would be obliged to go beyond that if
they expected to get the Fat Woman out without a repetition of
the previous disaster.
After a while they reached the spot for which Teddy had
been heading.
Marie surveyed the bank up which she must climb.
"Can you make it?"
"I--I'll try."
"That's the talk.  Take a running start, but slow up before you
get to the top, or with your headway you'll go right on over the
other side and down that embankment.  You ought to travel with a
net under you, but it would have to be a mighty strong one, or
you'd go through it."
Marie uttered a little hopeless moan and began climbing up
the bank once more, but bracing each foot carefully before
throwing her weight upon it.  Teddy, in the meantime, had run up
to the top where he sat down on the end of a tie watching the
Fat Woman's efforts to get up to him.
"Help, help," mimicked Teddy.
"I can't go any further, unless you come down here and push."
"Push?  No thank you.  I tried that before.  It would take a
steam engine to push you up that bank, because you'd let the
engine do all the pushing.  You wouldn't help yourself at all."
"I'll fall if you don't help me."
"Well, fall then.  You've got a nice soft piece of grass to land
on down there.  I'll tell you what I'll do."
"I'll take hold of your hand if you'll promise to let go the
minute you feel you're going to fall."
"I--I don't want to let go.  I want to hold on if I feel I'm
going to fall," wailed Marie.
"No, you don't.  'United we stand, divided we fall,'" quoted
Teddy solemnly.
"I'll promise; I'll promise anything, if you will come help me."
Teddy rose and slid down the bank to her.
"Give me your hand."
Marie extended a fat hand toward him, which he grasped firmly.
"Now gather all your strength and run for it.  We'll be at the
top before you know it.  Run, run, run!"
The command was accompanied by a jerk on Marie's arm, and
together they started plowing up the bank.
"Here we are.  One more reach, and we'll be on hard ground.
"Help!" screamed Marie.
Both her feet flew out.  One caught Teddy, tripping him and down
they rolled amid a shower of cinders, both landing in a heap at
the foot of the embankment.
"That settles it.  I thought you were going to let go,"
growled Teddy.
"I--I couldn't."
"You mean you didn't.  Now, you can take your choice; go up the
bank alone or stay here.  I suppose I have got to stay here with
you, but I really ought to leave you.  Somehow, I'm not mean
enough to do it, but I want to."
Teddy stretched out on the grass in the bright sunlight to dry
himself, for he was still very wet, while Marie sat down
helplessly and shook out her hair.
They had been there for nearly two hours when the rails above
them began to snap.
"Guess there's a train coming.  Just my luck to have it run off
the track and fall on me about the time it gets here."
The sound told him the train was coming from the direction his
own train had gone sometime before.
"It's a handcar," shouted the lad as a car swung around the bend
and straightened out down the track.
"Oh, help," wailed the Fat Woman.
"Hey, hey!" Teddy shouted.
Someone on the handcar waved a hat and shouted back at him.
"It's Phil, it's Phil!  They're coming for us, Marie,"
cried Teddy.  "Now, you've got to climb that bank unless you want
to stay here and starve to death.  Let me tell you it's me for
the handcar and a square meal."
Phil, hearing of his companion's misfortune, had requested
Mr. Sparling to get him a handcar that he might go in search of
Marie and Teddy.  This had been quickly arranged, and with three
Italian trackmen Phil had set out, he himself taking his turn at
the handle to assist in propelling the car.
"What's happened?" shouted Phil, leaping from the car and running
down the bank, falling the last half of the way and bringing up
in a heap at the feet of Teddy Tucker.
"That's the way we came down, a couple of times," grinned Teddy.
"Marie took a header into the creek and I went along.
Got a rope?"
"Yes, there's one on the handcar.  Why?"
"Marie can't get up the bank.  You'll have to pull her up."
The rope was hurriedly brought, and after being fastened
about her waist, the Italians were ordered to pull, while
Phil and Teddy braced themselves against the Fat Woman's
waist and pushed with all their might.  At last they landed
her, puffing and blowing and murmuring for more help, at
the top of the embankment.  She was quickly assisted to the
handcar, when the return journey was begun.
"Next time you fall off a train, I'll bet you go to the bottom
alone," growled Teddy.  "The show ought to carry a derrick
"Oh, help!" moaned the Fat Woman, gasping for breath as she sat
dangling over the rear end of the handcar.
"We shall miss the parade, I fear," announced Phil consulting
"Well, I don't mind for myself, but I could weep that Fat Marie
has to miss it," answered Teddy soberly.  "I don't like to see
her miss anything that comes her way."
"She doesn't, usually," grinned Phil.
After a long hard pull they succeeded in reaching the next town
with their well loaded handcar.  With the help of Phil and Teddy,
the Fat Lady was led puffing to the circus lot.  The parade had
just returned and the paraders were hurrying to change their
costumes, as the red flag was up on the cook tent.  Mr. Sparling
saw the Circus Boys and their charge approaching, and motioned
them to enter his office tent.
"Where did you find them, Phil?"
"At the bottom of a railroad embankment, about five miles back,
according to the mile posts."
"A couple of fine specimens you are," growled the showman.
"Well, Marie, what have you to say for yourself?"
"I--I fell down the bank."
"Pshaw!  What were you doing on the bank?"
"I got off to pick some flowers when the train stopped, and when
I tried to get back I--I couldn't."
"Don't you know it is against the rules of the show to leave the
train between stations?"
The Fat Lady nodded faintly.
"Discipline must be maintained in this show.  You are fined
five dollars, and the next time such a thing happens I'll
discharge you.  Understand?"
"Help, oh help!" murmured Marie.
Teddy was grinning and chuckling over the Fat Lady's misfortune.
"And, young man, what were you doing off the train?" asked the
showman, turning sternly.
"Me?  Why, I--I went to Marie's rescue."
"You did, eh?"
"I reckon it will cost you five dollars, too."
The grin faded slowly from Teddy's face.
"You--you going to fine me?" he stammered.
"No, I'm not going to.  I already have done so."
"It doesn't pay to be a hero.  A hero always gets the sharp end
of the stick.  But who's going to pay me for the clothes
Mr. Sparling surveyed the boy with the suspicion of a twinkle in
"Well, kid, I reckon I shall have to buy you a new suit, at that.
"Ye--yes, sir," responded the woman.
"Go downtown and see if you can find some new clothes that will
fit you.  If not buy two suits and splice them together."
"Yes, sir; thank you, sir."
"Have the bill sent to me.  Tucker, you do the same.
But remember, discipline must be maintained in this show,"
warned the owner sternly.
ON A FLYING TRAPEZE
The lesson lasted Teddy for a few hours; then he forgot all
about it.  But he was made the butt of the jokes of the dressing
tent for several days.
That afternoon Phil, while attending to some correspondence for
Mr. Sparling, had occasion to write to a trapeze performer about
booking with the Sparling show for the coming season.
"I have been thinking, Mr. Sparling," said Phil, "that I should
like to perform on the flying trapeze next season.  You know I
have been practicing for sometime."
Mr. Sparling glanced up from his papers.
"I'm not surprised.  I guess that's the only thing you haven't
done in the show thus far."
"I haven't been a fat woman or a living skeleton yet,"
laughed Phil.
"What can you do on the bars?"
"I can do all that your performers do.  Sometimes I think I might
be able to do more.  I can do passing leaps, two-and-a-halfs,
birds' nest and all that sort of thing."
"Is it possible?  I had no idea you had gotten that far along."
"Yes.  I have been wishing for a chance to see how I could work
before an audience."
"Haven't you enough to do already?"
"Well, I suppose I have, but you know I want to get along.
The season is nearly closed now, and I shall not have another
opportunity before next spring, possibly.  As long as you are
going to engage some other performers for next year I rather
thought it might be a good plan to offer myself for the work."
"Why, Phil, why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't like to."
"You can have anything in this show that you want.  You know
that, do you not?"
"Yes, sir," answered the Circus Boy in a low tone.  "And I thank
you very much."
"When do you want to go on?"
"Any time you think best.  Would you prefer to have me go through
a rehearsal?"
"Not necessary.  You have been practicing with Mr. Prentice,
the head of the trapeze troupe, haven't you?"
"If you say you are fit, I am willing to take your word for it.
In view of the fact that you already have worked with the aerial
people all you will have to do will be to go on.  I shall enjoy
seeing you do so, if you think you can stand the added work."
"I can do so easily.  When shall I try it?"
"Whenever you wish."
"What do you say to trying it tonight?"
"Certainly; go on tonight, if you want to.  I'll make it a point
to be on hand and watch the act."
"Thank you, very much.  You are more kind to me than I have any
reason to expect."
"No such thing," snapped the showman.  "Send Mr. Prentice to me
and I will give the necessary orders."
Phil, full of pleasurable anticipation, hurried to convey the
good news to Mr. Prentice.  The result was that, instead of four
performers appearing in the great aerial act that evening, there
Phil shinned the rope to the trapeze perch, hand over hand, the
muscles standing out on his arms as he made the ascent, with as
much ease as he would walk to the dressing room, and perhaps even
with less effort.
Phil, with perfect confidence in himself, swung out and back
to give himself the momentum necessary to carry him to where
Mr. Prentice was now hanging head down ready to catch him.
The catcher slapped his palms sharply together, the signal that
on the return flight Phil was to let go and throw himself into
the waiting arms of the other.
In a graceful, curving flight the Circus Boy landed in the iron
grip of Mr. Prentice, and on the return sweep sprang lightly into
the air, deftly catching his own trapeze bar which carried him to
Next he varied his performance by swinging off with his back to
the catcher, being caught about the waist, then thrown back to
meet his trapeze bar.
"He's the most graceful aerial performer I ever saw on a bar,"
declared Mr. Sparling.  "He is a wonder."
The next variation of the act was what is known as a
"passing leap," where, while the catcher is throwing one
performer back to his trapeze bar, a second one is flying
toward the catcher, the two supple bodies passing in the air
headed in opposite directions.  In this case, his opposite
partner was a young woman, the successor to little Zoraya
who had been so severely injured earlier in the season.
"Fine, Phil!" she breathed as they passed each other, and the
Circus Boy's face took on a pleased smile.
"Try a turn next time," said Mr. Prentice, as he threw Phil
lightly into the air toward his trapeze.  "Think you can do it?"
"I can try, at least."
Phil got a wide swing and then at a signal from the catcher, shot
up into the air.  He threw a quick somersault, then stretched out
his hands to be caught.  He was too low down for Mr. Prentice to
reach him and Phil shot toward the net head first.
Though he had lost his bearings during the turn he had not lost
his presence of mind.
"Turn!" shouted a voice from below, the watchful ringmaster
having observed at once that the lad was falling, and that he was
liable to strike on his head in the net with the possible chance
of breaking his neck.
Phil understood, then, exactly what his position was, and, with a
slight upward tilt of his head, brought his body into position so
that he would strike the net on his shoulders.
He hit the net with a smack, bounded high into the air, rounding
off his accident by throwing a somersault on the net, bounding up
and down a few times on his feet.
The audience, quick to appreciate what he had done, gave Phil
a rousing cheer.
He shook his head and began clambering up the rope again.
"What happened to me?" he called across to the catcher.
"You turned too quickly."
"I'll do it right this time."
The band stopped playing, that its silence might emphasize
the act.  Then Phil, measuring his distance with keen eyes,
launched into the air again.  But instead of turning one
somersault he turned two, landing fairly into the outstretched
arms of Mr. Prentice, who gave him a mighty swing, whereat Phil
hurled himself into a mad whirl, performing three more
somersaults before he struck the net.
The audience howled with delight, and Mr. Sparling rushed forward
fairly hugging the Circus Boy in his delight.
"Wonderful!" cried the showman.  "You're a sure-enough star
CHAPTER XXII
IN A LIVELY BLOW-DOWN
>From that moment on, until the close of the season, Phil Forrest
retained his place on the aerial trapeze team, doubling up with
his other work, and putting the finishing touches to what
Mr. Sparling called "a great career on the bars."
But Phil, much as he loved the work, did not propose to spend
all his life performing above the heads of the people.  He felt
that a greater future was before him on the ground at the front
of the house.
Only a week remained now before the show would close for
the season.  Even in Texas, where they were showing, the
nights had begun to grow chilly, stiffening the muscles of
the performers and making them irritable.  All were looking
forward to the day when the tents should be struck for the
last time that season.
"What's the next stand?" asked Phil in the dressing tent a few
nights after his triumphal performance on the trapeze.
"Tucker, Texas," answered a voice.
"What's that?" shouted a clown.
"Tucker, I said."
"Any relation to Teddy Tucker?"
"I hope not," laughed the head clown.
"A place with that name spells trouble.  Anything by the name of
Tucker, whether it's Teddy or not, means that we are in for some
kind of a mix-up.  I wish I could go fishing tomorrow."
All in the dressing tent chuckled at the clown's sally.
"I know what you'd catch if you did," grumbled Teddy.
"Now, what would I catch, young man?" demanded the clown.
"You'd catch cold.  That's all you can catch," retorted Teddy,
whereat the laugh was turned on the clown, much to the
latter's disgust.
Tucker proved to be a pretty little town on the open plain.
There was nothing in the appearance of the place to indicate
that they might look for trouble.  However, as the clown had
prophesied, trouble was awaiting them--trouble of a nature
that the showman dreads from the beginning to the end of the
circus season.
The afternoon performance passed off without a hitch, the tent
being crowded almost to its capacity, Phil Forrest throwing
himself into his work in the air with more spirit and enthusiasm
than he had shown at any time since he took up his new work.
At Mr. Sparling's request, however, the lad had omitted his
triple somersault from the trapeze bar.  The showman considered
the act too dangerous, assuring Phil that sooner or later he
would be sure to break his neck.
Phil laughed at the owner's fears, but promised that he would try
nothing beyond a double after that.  He remembered how quickly he
had lost himself when he attempted the feat before.  Few men are
able to do it without their brains becoming so confused that they
lose all sense of direction and location.
The evening house was almost as large as that of the afternoon,
as usual the audience being made up principally of town people,
the country spectators having returned to their homes
before night.  The night set in dark and oppressive.
Soon after the gasoline lights were lighted the animals began
growling, pacing their cages restlessly, while the lions roared
intermittently, and the hyenas laughed almost hysterically.
It sent a shiver down the backs of nearly everyone who heard it--
the shrill laugh of the hyenas reaching clear back to the
dressing tent.
Teddy Tucker's eyes always grew large when he heard the laugh
of the hyena.
"B-r-r-r!" exclaimed Teddy.
"You'll 'b-r-r-r' worse than that before you get through,"
growled a performer.
" 'Cause it means what somebody said the other night--trouble."
"What kind of trouble does it mean?" asked Phil.
"I don't know.  Some kind of a storm, I guess.  You can't
always tell.  Those animals know more than we human beings,
when it comes to weather and that sort of thing," broke in
Mr. Miaco the head clown.
"Well, you expected something would happen in a town called
Tucker, didn't you?"
"Are you going to be with this show next season, Teddy?"
questioned the clown who had taunted him before.
"I hope to."
"Then I sign out with some other outfit.  I refuse to travel with
a bunch that carries a hoodoo like you with it.  I feel it in my
bones that something is going to happen tonight, and just as soon
as I can get through my act I'm going to run--run, mind you,
not walk--back to the train as fast as my legs will carry me.
That won't be any snail's pace, either."
The performers joked and passed the time away until the band
started the overture, off under the big top.  This means that
it is about time for the show to begin, and that the music is
started to hurry the people to their seats.
All hands fell silent as they got busy putting the finishing
touches to their makeup.
"All acts cut short five minutes tonight," sang the voice of
the ringmaster at the entrance to the dressing tent.
"You see," said the clown, nodding his head at Teddy.
"No, I hear," grumbled Teddy.  "What's it all about?"
"Don't ask me.  I don't know.  I'm not running this show."
"Lucky for the show that you aren't," muttered the Circus Boy.
"What's that?"
"I was just thinking out loud, I guess."
"It's a bad habit.  Don't do it when I'm around.  All hoodoos
talk to themselves and in their sleep."
The show was started off with a rush, the Grand Entry having been
cut out again, as is frequently the case with a show where there
is a long run ahead, or a storm is expected.  That night those in
the dressing tent could only surmise the reason.  The hyena's
warning was the only thing to guide the performers in their
search for a reason for the haste.  But they took the situation
philosophically, as they always had, and prepared for the
performance as usual.
The performance had gotten along well toward the end, and without
the slightest interruption.  All hands were beginning to feel a
certain sense of relief, when the shrill blasts of the boss
canvasman's emergency whistle were heard outside the big top.
Phil had just completed his trapeze act and was dropping into
the net when the whistle sounded.
He glanced up and made a signal to the others in the air.
They dropped, one by one, to the net and swung themselves to
the ground, where they stood awaiting the completion of the
piece that the band was playing.
"Wind, isn't it?" questioned Mr. Prentice.
Phil nodded.
He was listening intently.  His keen ears caught a distant roar
that caused him to gaze apprehensively aloft.
"I am afraid we are going to have trouble," he said.
"It has been in the air all the evening," was the low answer.
"Wonder if they have the menagerie tent out of the way?"
It was being taken down at that moment, the elephants having been
removed to the train, as had part of the cages.
All at once there was a roar that sent the blood from the
faces of the spectators.  The boss canvasman's whistle
trilled excitedly.
"There go the dressing tents," said Phil calmly as a ripping and
rending was heard off by the paddock.  "I hope it hasn't taken
my trunk with it.  Glad I locked the trunk before coming into
The band stopped playing suddenly.  The tent was in
absolute silence.
"It's a cyclone!" shouted a voice among the spectators.
A murmur ran over the assemblage.  In a moment they would be
in a mad rush, trampling each other under foot in their efforts
Phil bounded toward the band.
"Play!  Play!" he shouted.  "They'll stampede if you don't.
Play, I tell you!"
The bandmaster waved his baton and the music of the band drowned
out the mutterings of the storm for the moment.
Suddenly the roaring without grew louder.  Ropes were creaking,
center and quarter poles lifting themselves a few inches from the
ground, dangerously.
"It's blowing end on," muttered Phil, running full speed down the
concourse in his ring costume.
"Keep your seats!" he shouted.  "There may be no danger.  If the
tent should go down you will be safer where you are.  Keep your
seats, everybody."
Phil dashed on, shouting his warning until he had gotten halfway
around the tent.  Mr. Prentice had taken up the lad's cry on the
Then the blow fell.
The big top bent under the sweep of the gale until the center
poles were leaning far over to the north.  Had the wind not
struck the tent on the end it must have gone down under the
first blast.  As it was, canvas, rope and pole were holding,
but every stitch of canvas and every pole was trembling under
"Sit steady, everybody!  We may be able to weather it."
Phil saw that, if the people were to run into the arena and the
tent should fall, many must be crushed under the center and
quarter poles.
Up and down he ran shouting words of encouragement, and he was
thus engaged when Mr. Sparling worked his way in from the pad
room, as the open enclosure between the two dressing tents
is called.  Phil had picked up the ringmaster's whip and was
cracking it to attract the attention of the people to what he
was trying to tell them.
Somehow, many seemed to gain confidence from this plucky, slender
lad clad in silk tights, who was rushing up and down as cool and
collected as if three thousand persons were not in deadly peril.
Nothing but Phil Forrest's coolness saved many from death
A mighty roar suddenly drew every eye in the tent to the
south end where the wind was pressing against the canvas
with increasing force.
Phil stood near the entrance, the flap of which had been quickly
laced and staked down when the canvasmen saw the gale coming
He turned quickly, for the roar had seemed to be almost at
his side.  What he saw drew an exclamation from Phil that,
at other times, might have been humorous.  There was no
humor in it now.
"Gracious!" exclaimed the lad.
There, within twenty feet of him stood a lion, a huge, powerful
beast, with head up, the hair standing straight along its back,
the mane rippling in the breeze.
"It's Wallace," breathed the lad, almost unable to believe
his eyes.  The biggest lion in captivity, somehow in the
excitement had managed to escape from his cage.
"Now there'll be a panic for sure!  They've seen him!"
"Sit still and keep still!  He won't hurt you!" shouted Phil.
"Now, you get out of here!" commanded Phil, starting toward
Wallace and cracking the ringmaster's whip in the animal's face.
Just for the briefest part of a second did Wallace give way, then
with a terrific roar, he bounded clear over the Circus Boy's
head, bowling Phil over as he leaped, and on down to the center
of the arena.
Phil had not been hurt.  He was up and after the dangerous beast
in a twinkling.  The audience saw what he was trying to do.
"Keep away from him!" bellowed Mr. Sparling.
"Throw a net over him!" shouted Phil.
However, between the storm and the escaped lion, none seemed to
have his wits about him sufficiently to know what was best to do.
Had the showmen acted promptly when Phil called, they might have
been able to capture the beast then and there.
Seeing that they were not going to do so, and that the lion was
walking slowly toward the reserved seats, Phil sprang in front of
the dangerous brute to head him off.
The occupants of the reserved seats were standing up.  The panic
might break at any minute.
"Sit down!" came the command, in a stern, boyish voice.
Phil faced the escaped lion, starting toward it with a
threatening motion of the whip.
"Are you ever going to get a net?"
"Get a net!" thundered Mr. Sparling.  "Get away from him, Phil!"
Instead of doing so, the Circus Boy stepped closer to the beast.
No one made the slightest move to capture the beast, as Phil
realized might easily be done now, if only a few had the presence
of mind to attempt it.
The ringmaster's whip in Phil's hands snapped and the leather
lash bit deep into the nose of Wallace.
With a roar that sounded louder than that of the storm outside
the lion took a quick step forward, only to get the lash on his
Suddenly he turned about and in long, curving bounds headed for
the lower end of the tent.  Mr. Sparling sprang to one side,
knowing full well that it would be better to lose the lion than
to stir up the audience more than they already were stirred.
Phil was in full pursuit, cracking his whip at every jump.
Wallace leaped through the open flap at the lower end of the tent
and disappeared in the night.
Just as he did so there came a sound different from anything that
had preceded it.  A series of reports followed one another until
it sounded as if a battery of small cannon were being fired,
together with a ripping and tearing and rending that sent every
spectator in the big tent, to his feet yelling and shouting.
"The tent is coming down!  The tent is coming down!"
Women fainted and men began fighting to get down into the arena.
"Stay where you are!" shouted Phil.  Then the Circus Boy
did a bold act.  Running along in front of the seats he let
drive the lash of his long whip full into the faces of the
struggling people.  The sting of the lash brought many of
them to their senses.  Then they too turned to help hold
the others back.
With a wrench, the center poles were lifted several feet up into
"Look out for the quarter poles!  Keep back or you'll be killed!"
shouted Phil.
"Keep back!  Keep back!" bellowed Mr. Sparling.
And now the quarter poles--the poles that stand leaning toward
the center of the arena, just in front of the lower row of
seats--began to fall, crashing inward, forced to the north.
The center poles snapped like pipe stems, pieces of them being
hurled half the length of the tent.
Down came the canvas, extinguishing the lights and leaving
the place in deep darkness.  The people were fairly beside
themselves with fright.  But still that boyish voice was
heard above the uproar:
"Sit still!  Sit still!"
The whole mass of canvas collapsed and went rolling northward
like a sail suddenly ripped from the yards of a ship.
The last mighty blow of the storm had been more than canvas and
painted poles could stand.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE LION HUNT
For a moment there was silence.  Then the people began shouting.
"Bring lights, men!" thundered the owner of the show.
Being so near the outer edges of the tent, the people had escaped
almost without injury.  Many had been bruised as the canvas swept
over them, knocking them flat and some falling all the way
through between the seats to the ground, where they were in
little danger.
"Wait till the lights come!  Phil!  Phil!"
Phil Forrest did not answer.  He had been knocked clear into
the center of the arena by a falling quarter pole, and stunned.
The Circus Boy's head was pretty hard, however, and no more
than a minute had passed before he was at work digging his way
out of the wreck.
"Thank heaven," muttered the showman.  "I was afraid he had
been killed.  Are you all right?"  Mr. Sparling made his way
in Phil's direction.
"Yes.  How--how many were killed?"
"I hope none," replied Mr. Sparling.  "As soon as the lights are
on and all this stuff hauled out of the way we shall know."
Most of the canvas had been blown from the circus arena proper
so that little was left there save the seats, a portion of the
bandstand, the wrecks of the ruined poles and circus properties,
together with some of the side walls, which still were standing.
By this time the tornado, for such it had developed into, had
passed entirely and the moon came out, shining down into the
darkened circus arena, lighting it up brightly.
About that time torches were brought.  The people had rushed down
from the seats as soon as the big top had blown away.
"I want all who have been injured to wait until I can see them,"
shouted Mr. Sparling.  "Many of you owe your lives to this
young man.  Had you started when the blow came many of you would
have been killed.  Has anyone been seriously hurt?"
A chorus of "no's" echoed from all sides.
The showman breathed a sigh of relief.  A bare half dozen had to
be helped down from the seats, where they had been struck by
flying debris, but beyond that no one obeyed Mr. Sparling's
request to remain.
The men had run quickly along under the seats to see if by any
chance injured persons had fallen through.  They helped a few out
and these walked hurriedly away, bent on getting off the circus
lot as quickly as possible after their exciting experiences.
"No one killed, Phil."
"I'm glad of that.  I'm going to look for Wallace.  Better get
your men out right away, or he'll be too far away for us ever to
catch him again.  Have the menagerie men gone to look for him?"
"I don't know, Phil.  You will remember that I have been rather
busily engaged for the past ten or fifteen minutes."
"We all have.  Well, I'm going to take a run and see if I can get
track of the lion."
"Be careful.  Better get your clothes on the first thing you do."
"Guess he hasn't any.  His trunk and mine have gone away
somewhere," nodded Teddy.
"Never mind the clothes.  I'm on a lion hunt now," laughed Phil,
starting from the enclosure on a run.
"Nothing can stop that boy," muttered Mr. Sparling.  The owner
was all activity now, giving his orders at rapid-fire rate.
First, the men were ordered to gather the canvas and stretch it
out on the lot so an inventory might be taken to determine in
what shape the show had been left.  Others were assigned to
search the lot for show properties, costumes and the like, and in
a very short time the big, machine-like organization was working
methodically and without excitement.
It must not be thought that nothing was being done toward
catching the escaped lion.  Fully fifty men had started in
pursuit immediately after the escape.  They had been detained for
a few minutes by the blow down, after which every man belonging
to the menagerie tent, who could be spared, joined in the chase.
The lion cage, one of the few left remaining on the lot, had been
blown over as it was being taken away.  The shock had burst open
the rear door and Wallace was quick to take advantage of the
opportunity to regain his freedom.  An iron-barred partition
separated him from his mate.  Fortunately this partition had
held, leaving the lioness still confined in the cage.
The attendants quickly righted the cage, making fast the door
so that there might be no repetition of the disaster.
Seeing Phil hurrying away Teddy took to his heels also, and
within a short distance caught up with his companion.
"You going to look for that lion, Phil?"
"You had better stay here, Teddy.  You might get hurt."
"What about yourself?"
"Oh, I'm not afraid," laughed Phil.
"Don't you call me a coward, Phil Forrest.  I've got as much sand
as you have any time."
"Why, I didn't call you a coward.  I--"
"Yes, you did; yes, you did!"
"Don't let's quarrel.  Remember we are on a lion hunt just now.
Hey, Bob." hailed Phil, discovering one of the
menagerie attendants.
"Which way did he go?"
"We don't know.  When the blow down came we lost all track
of Wallace.  He's probably headed for the open country."
"Where are the searchers?"
"All over.  A party went west, another north and the third to
"What about the village--did no one go that way to hunt for him?"
"No; he wouldn't go to town."
"Think not?"
"Sure of it."
"He'd want to get away from the people as quick as he could.
You don't catch Wallace going into any town or any other place
where there's people."
"I noticed that he came in under the big top where there were
about three thousand of them," replied Phil dryly.
"He was scared; that's what made him do that."
"And that very emotion may have sent him into the town.
I'm going over there to start something on my own hook.
Are you going along Teddy?"
"You bet I am.  I always did like to hunt lions."
"When you are sure you are going away from the lion, instead of
in his direction," suggested Phil, laughingly.  "What's that you
have in your hand?"
"It's an iron tent stake I picked up on the lot.  I'll fetch him
a wallop that'll make him see stars if I catch close enough sight
"I don't think you will get quite that close to Wallace."
"I'll show you."
By this time the word had spread all over town that the
whole menagerie of the Sparling Combined Shows had escaped.
The streets were cleared in short order.  Here and there,
from an upper window, might be seen the whites of the
frightened eyes of a Negro peering down, hoping to catch
sight of the wild beasts, and fearful lest he should. "If it
was an elephant we might trail him," suggested Teddy.
"That's not a half bad idea.  The dust is quite thick.  I wish
we had thought to bring a torch with us."
"I'll tell you where we can get one."
"One of the markers set up to guide the wagon drivers to the
railroad yards.  There's a couple on the next street above here.
I saw them just a minute ago."
"Teddy you are a genius.  And to think I have known you all
this time and never found it out before.  Come on, we'll get
the torches."
They started on a run across an open lot, then turning into the
street above, saw the torches flaring by the roadside half a
block away.  Jerking the lights up the lads ran back to the
street they had previously left.
"Where shall we look?"
"We might as well begin right here, Teddy.  I can't help
believing that Wallace is somewhere in the town.  I don't
believe, for a minute, that he would run off into the country.
If he has he'll be back in a very short time.  You remember what
I tell you.  If we can get track of him we'll follow and send
word back to the lot so they can come and get him."
"Why not catch him ourselves?"
"I don't think we two boys had better try that.  I am afraid it
would prove too much for us."
"I've got a tent stake.  I'm not afraid.  Why didn't you bring
"I have the ringmaster's whip.  I prefer that to a club when it
comes to meeting a wild lion.  Hello, up there!" called Phil,
discovering two men looking out of a window above him.
"Hello yourself.  You fellows belong to the circus?"
"Yes.  Have you seen anything of a lion around this part of
"A tall fellow about my size, with blue eyes and blonde hair,"
added Teddy.
"Stop your fooling, Teddy."
"That's all," replied Phil a bit impatiently.  "Have you
"Why, we heard the whole menagerie had escaped."
"That is a mistake.  Only one animal got away--the lion."
"No; we haven't seen him, but we heard him a little while ago."
"Where, where?" questioned the boy eagerly.
"Heard him roar, and it sounded as if he was off in
that direction."
"O, thank you, thank you," answered Phil.
"Say, are you in the show did you say?" now catching sight of
Phil's tights under the bright moonlight.
"What do you do?"
"I am in the big trapeze act, the flying rings and a few other
little things."
"Is that so?"
"Yes.  Well, you'll have to excuse us.  We must be going."
"You boys are not going out after that lion alone, are you?"
"Yes, of course."
"Great Caesar!  What do you think of that?  Wait a minute; we'll
get our guns and join you."
"Please, I would rather you would not.  We don't want to kill the
lion, you see."
"Don't want to kill him?" questioned the man in amazement.
"Certainly not.  We want to capture him.  If the town's people
will simply stay in their homes, and not bother us, we shall get
him before morning and no one will be the worse for his escape.
Wallace is worth a few thousand dollars, I suppose you are aware.
Come along, Teddy."
Leaving the two men to utter exclamations of amazement, the lads
started off in the direction indicated by the others.
"What did I tell you, Teddy?  That lion is in the town at this
very minute.  He's probably eating up someone's fresh meat by
this time.  Hold your torch down and keep watch of the street.
You keep that side and I'll watch this.  We will each take half
of the road."
The Circus Boys had been around the animals of the menagerie
for nearly three years now, it will be remembered, and they had
wholly lost that fear that most people outside the circus feel
for the savage beasts of the jungle.  They thought little more
of this lion hunt, so far as the danger was concerned, than if
they had been chasing a runaway circus horse or tame elephant.
All at once Teddy Tucker uttered an exclamation.
"What is it?"
"I've landed the gentleman."
"Yes; here are his tracks."
"That's so; you have.  Don't lose them now.  We'll run him
down yet.  Won't Mr. Sparling be pleased?"
"I reckon he will.  But we have got to catch the cat first before
we can please anybody.  I wonder how we're going to do it?"
"We shall see about that later."
The boys started on a trot, holding their torches close to
the ground.  Their course took them about on another street
leading at right angles to the one they had been following.
All at once they seemed to have lost the trail.  Before them
stood a handsome house, set well back in a green lawn.  The house
was lighted up, and evidently some kind of an entertainment was
going on within.
"He's gone over in some of these yards," breathed Phil.
"Let's take the place that's lighted up, first.  He'd be
more likely to go where there is life.  He--"
Phil's words were cut short by a shriek of terror from the
lighted house followed by another and another.
"He's there!  Come on!"
Both boys vaulted the fence and ran to the front door.  By this
time shriek upon shriek rent the air.  The lads burst into the
house without an instant's hesitation.
"Upstairs!" cried Phil, bounding up three steps at a time.
A woman, pale and wide-eyed, had pointed that way when she saw
the two boys in their circus tights and realized what they had
come there for.
In a large room a dozen people, pale and frightened were
standing, one man with hand on the door ready to slam it shut at
first sign of the intruder.
"Where--where is he?" demanded Phil breathlessly.
"We were playing cards, and when somebody looked up he saw that
beast standing in the door here looking in.  He--he went down in
the back yard.  Maybe you will be able to see him if you go in
the room across the hall there.  There's a yard fenced off there
for the dogs to run in."
Phil bounded across the hall followed by two of the men.
"Does that stairway lead down into the back yard?"
questioned Phil.
"Was the door open?"
"Is it open now?"
"Yes.  We can feel the draft."
"Show me into the room and I'll take a look."
One of the men, who evidently lived in the house, stepped
gingerly across the hall, turned the knob and pushed the door
in ever so little.  Phil and Teddy, with torches still in hand,
As they did so their guide uttering a frightened yell, slammed
the door shut, and Phil heard a bolt shoot in place.
The boys found themselves in a large room running the full depth
of the house.  It had been rigged up, as a gymnasium, with the
familiar flying rings, parallel bars and other useful equipment.
All this they saw instinctively.  But what they saw beyond all
this caused the Circus Boys to pause almost spellbound.
"He's in there!  He's in there!" shouted half a dozen voices at
the same moment.  Then the lads heard the people rush down the
stairs and out into the street shouting and screaming for help.
Crouching in the far corner of the room, lashing its tail, its
evil eyes fixed upon them, was the lion Wallace.
"Wow!" breathed Teddy.
Phil with eyes fixed upon the lion reached back one hand and
tried the door behind him.  It was locked.
"Teddy, don't make any sudden moves," cautioned Phil in a
low voice.  "We're locked in.  Give me your torch.  Now edge
over to that open window and drop out.  We can't both try it,
or Wallace will be upon us in a flash.  When you get out, run
for the lot.  Run as you never ran before.  Get the men here.
Have them rush Wallace's cage here.  Be careful until you
get out.  Those people have locked us in.  I shouldn't dare open
the door anyway, now, for he'd catch us before we could get out.
I know the ways of these tricky cats."
"Phil, he'll kill you!"
"He won't.  I've got the torches.  They're the best weapons a man
could have--they and the whip."
Teddy edged toward the window while Phil with a stern command
to the lion to "charge!" at the same time cracking the whip and
thrusting the torches toward the beast, checked the rush that
Wallace seemed about to make.
Teddy dropped from the window a moment later.  Then began an
experience for Phil Forrest that few boys would have had the
courage to face.
Not for an instant did the Circus Boy lose his presence of mind.
He took good care not to crowd Wallace, giving him plenty of
room, constantly talking to him as he had frequently heard the
animal's keeper do, and keeping the beast's mind occupied as
much as he could.
Now and then Wallace would attempt to creep up on Phil, whereupon
the lad would start forward thrusting the torches before him and
crack the whip again.  Wallace was afraid of fire, and under the
menacing thrusts of the torches would back cowering into
For a full half hour did Phil Forrest face this deadly peril,
cool, collected, his mind ever on the alert, standing there in
his pink tights, almost a heroic figure as he poised in the light
of the flaring torches, the smoke of which got into his lungs and
made him cough.  He did all he could to suppress this, for it
disturbed and irritated Wallace, who showed his disapproval by
swishing his tail and uttering low, deep growls of resentment.
Phil backed away a little so as to get nearer the window that
he might find more fresh air.  Wallace followed.  Phil sprang
"Charge!" he commanded making several violent thrusts with the
torches, at which Wallace backed away again and crouched lower.
Phil saw that the lion was preparing to jump over his head; and,
discovering this, the lad held one torch high above his head and
kept it swaying there from side to side.
Suddenly he made another discovery.
The light seemed to be growing dim.  A quick glance at the flames
of the torches told him what the trouble was.
He dared not let his eyes dwell on the flame for more than a
brief instant for the glare would so blind him that he would not
be able to clearly make out the lion.  To lose sight of Wallace
for a few seconds might mean a sudden and quick end to Phil
Forrest, and he knew it full well.
The lad backed a bit closer to the window, keeping his torches
moving rapidly to hide his movements.
Wallace, watching the torches did not observe the action.
"The torches are going out," breathed Phil.  "If the folks don't
come soon I've got to jump through window glass and all or
Wallace will spring."
Phil was in a desperate situation.
CHAPTER XXIV
"Down, Wallace!  Charge!"
The Circus Boy's whip cracked viciously, while the dying
torches formed thin circles of fire as they were swung above
the lad's head.
"I shan't be able to hold him off much longer.  Wallace knows,
as well as I do, that his turn is coming in a short time.  If I
happen to be within reach then, something surely is going
to happen.  Hark!  What's that?"
Distant shouts were borne faintly to Phil's ears.  He listened
intently, catching another and welcome sound.  The latter was the
rumble of a heavy wagon, being driven rapidly along the paved
street of the town.
"It's a circus wagon," breathed the lad, recognizing the
sound instantly.  "I hope it is the wagon."
He listened intently, keeping the torches moving, now
and then cracking his whip and uttering sharp commands
The animal was growing more and more restless.  His wild
instincts were returning to him.
The torches were so low, now, that Phil could scarcely see
the beast.  Then, all at once, he realized that Wallace was
creeping toward him unmindful of the lash or of the
fading torches.
Phil waited, peering into the shadows.  He was not afraid, as he
recalled his sensations afterwards; but a strange little thrill
seemed to be racing up and down his spinal column.
Then the lad did a daring thing.  He sprang forward to
meet Wallace.  The astonished lion halted for a brief instant,
and in that instant the Circus Boy thrust one of the torches
full in his face.  The flame burned the nose of the king of
beasts and singed his brow as well.
Uttering a mighty roar Wallace cleared the floor, springing
backwards and landing against the wall with such force as to
jar several panes of glass from the window nearby.
"Phil!  Phil!  Are you there?" came a hesitating voice from
behind the lad.  It was the voice of Teddy Tucker on a ladder
at one side of the window from which he had jumped earlier in
the evening.
"Yes, yes.  Be careful.  Did you bring them?"
"We've got the cage.  Mr. Sparling is here, too.  He's half
worried to death.  What shall we do?"
"Have them draw the cage up in the back yard and back it against
the open door.  When that's done some of you come upstairs and
throw the door open.  Be sure to leave a light in the hall, but
jump into the room across the hall as soon as you open the door.
Wallace will scent his mate and I'll wager he'll trot right
downstairs and jump into his cage.  Have someone standing by to
close the doors on him.  Hurry now.  Tell them my torches won't
last five minutes longer."
Teddy slid down the ladder without waiting to place feet or hand
on the rungs, and Phil's anxious ears told him the men were
drawing the cage around to the rear yard.
Soon he heard footsteps on the back stairs.  Wallace was showing
new signs of agitation.
"All ready, in there?"
"All ready," answered Phil.
Teddy jerked the door open and leaping across the hall, shut
himself in the room opposite.  Wallace paused, his tail beating
the wall behind him; then uttering a roar that shook the
building, the shaggy beast leaped into the hall.  There he paused
for an instant.  One bound took him to the foot of the stairs.
The next landed him in the cage next to his mate.  The cage
doors closed behind him with a metallic snap.
Wallace was safe.
"Got him!" shouted a voice from below.
Phil drew a long sigh of relief.  Someone dashed up the stairs
on a run.  It was Mr. Sparling.  He grabbed Phil Forrest in his
arms, hugging him until the dead torches fell to the floor with
a clatter and the lad begged to be released.
"My brave Phil, my brave boy!" breathed the showman.  "No one but
you could have done a thing like that.  You have saved the lives
of many people this night, and what is more you have captured the
most valuable lion in the world--you and Teddy.  I don't know
what to say nor how to say it.  I--"
"I wouldn't try were I in your place," grinned Phil.  "I presume
you will have to settle with these people for the slight damage
that has been done to their house."
"I'll settle the bills; don't you worry about that."
"Any more lions lying around loose in here?" questioned Teddy,
poking his head in through the open door.  "I and my little club
are ready for them if there are."
"Shall we be going, Mr. Sparling?"
Together the three made their way down the stairs just as the
cage was being driven from the yard.  As soon as he could find
the owner of the house the showman paid him for the damages.
"What shape is the big top in?" asked Phil as they walked slowly
back toward the lot.
"Bad, very bad.  I might say that it comes pretty near being a
hopeless wreck.  Still it may be patched up."
"I am sure of it.  I know a blown-down tent is not half as
hopeless as it looks.  I saw the Robinson shows with a blown-down
"I have been thinking the matter over, Phil."
"We have only a few days more to go before the close of the
season, and it seems to me that the best plan would be to close
right here and go in.  What do you think?"
"I think," answered Phil Forrest slowly, "that I should turn
all hands loose and fix that tent up so the show will be able
to make the next stand and give a performance by tomorrow night
at latest.  It can be done.  If the tent is too badly torn to
set up a six pole show, make it a four pole show, or use the
menagerie tent for the circus performance.  I should never have
it said that the Sparling Combined Shows were put out of
business by a gale of wind."
Mr. Sparling halted.
"Phil, there is an old saying to the effect that you can't
'teach an old dog new tricks.' It's not true.  You have taught
me a new trick.  The Sparling shows shall go on to the close of
the season.  We'll make the next town, somehow, and we'll give
them a show the like of which they never before have seen."
"If they had been here tonight they would have seen one such as
they never saw before," grinned Teddy.
"A sort of Wild South instead of Wild West show," added the
irrepressible Teddy.
All that night the showmen worked, Phil not even taking the time
to discard his gaudy ring clothes.  The next morning both he and
Teddy were sights to behold, but the show had been loaded, and
the big top straightened out and put in shape so that it could be
pitched when the next town was reached.  At last the boys decided
to hunt up their trunks.  They found them, after a long search.
Getting behind a pole wagon they put on their clothes.  An hour
later they were on their way to the next stand, tired but proud
of their achievements and happy.
The news of the accident to the show, as well as the capture of
the big lion, Wallace, by the Circus Boys, had preceded them to
the next town.  Once more Phil Forrest and Teddy Tucker were
hailed as heroes, which they really had proved themselves to be.
A very fair performance, considering their crippled condition,
was given that afternoon.  By the next day the show was on its
feet again, and from then on to the close of the season, no other
exciting incidents occurred.
Two weeks later the big top came down for the last time
that year.  On the afternoon of that happy day, the associates
of the Circus Boys gave a banquet for the two lads under the
cook tent, at which Teddy Tucker distinguished himself by making
a speech that set the whole tent in an uproar of merriment.
Good-byes were said, and the circus folks departed that night bag
and baggage to scatter to the four quarters of the globe, some
never to return to the Sparling shows.  Phil and Teddy returned
to Edmeston to finish their course at the high school, from which
they were to graduate in the following spring.
How the lads joined out with the circus the next season will be
told in a succeeding volume entitled, "THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE
MISSISSIPPI; Or, Afloat with the Big Show on the Big River."
This was destined to be one of the most interesting journeys
of their circus careers--one filled with new and exciting
experiences and thrilling adventures.
Until then we will leave them to continue their studies in the
little village of Edmeston.
This Etext was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Greg Berckes
The Circus Boys On the Mississippi
Afloat with the Big Show on the Big River
By EDGAR B. P. DARLINGTON
I      MAKING A LIVELY START
II     JANUARY LENDS A FOOT
III    A DAY OF MEMORIES
IV     THEIR CURIOSITY AROUSED
V      THE CIRCUS BOYS' SURPRISE
VI     A BOLT FROM THE CLOUDS
VII    IN NEW QUARTERS
VIII   JANUARY ON THE RAMPAGE
IX     PHIL FORREST TO THE RESCUE
X      ALL ABOARD FOR THE GULF!
XI     EGG, EGG, WHO'S GOT THE EGG?
XII    TRYING OUT A NEW ACT
XIII   A NARROW ESCAPE
XIV    THE PILOT GETS A SURPRISE
XV     AN UNWELCOME VISITOR
XVI    BETRAYED BY A SNEEZE
XVII   EAVESDROPPERS!
XVIII  MAKING A CAPTURE
XIX    TEDDY JOINS THE BAND
XX     A CAPTURE IN THE AIR
XXI    A CIRCUS BOY MISSING
XXII   OVERBOARD INTO THE RIVER
XXIII  THE ROMAN CHARIOT RACES
XXIV   CONCLUSION
The Circus Boys on the Mississippi
MAKING A LIVELY START
"Have you had any trouble with Diaz, Teddy?"
"The new Spanish clown."
Teddy Tucker's face grew serious.
"What about him, Phil?"
"That is what I am asking you.  Have you had any
misunderstanding--angry words or anything of the sort with him?"
persisted Phil Forrest, with a keen, inquiring glance into the
face of his companion.
"Well, maybe," admitted the Circus Boy, with evident reluctance. 
"What made you think I had?"
"From the way he looked at you when you were standing in the
paddock this afternoon, waiting for your cue to go on."
"Huh!  How did he look at me?"
"As if he had a grudge against you.  There was an expression in
his eyes that said more plainly than words, 'I'll get even with
you yet, young man, you see if I do not.'"
"Wonderful!" breathed Teddy.
"What do you mean?"
"You must be a mind reader, Phil Forrest," grumbled Teddy,
digging his heel into the soft turf of the circus lot.  "Can you
read my mind?  If you can, what am I thinking about now?"
"You are thinking," answered Phil slowly, "that you will make me
forget the question I asked you just now.  You are thinking you
would rather not answer my question."
Teddy opened his eyes a little wider.
"You ought to go into the business."
"What business?"
"Reading people's minds, at so much per read."
"Thank you."
"I wish you'd read the mind of that donkey of mine, and find
out what he's got up his sleeve, or rather his hoofs, for me
this evening."
"Do you know of what else you are thinking?"
"Of course I do.  Think I don't know what I am thinking about? 
Well!  What am I thinking about?"
"At the present moment you are thinking that you will do to Diaz
what he hopes to do to you some of these days--get even with him
for some fancied wrong.  Am I right?"
"I'll hand him a good stiff punch, one of these fine spring
mornings, that's what I'll do," growled Tucker, his face
flushing angrily.
"Teddy Tucker, listen to me!"
"I'm listening."
"You will do nothing of the sort."
"You just wait and see."
"Since we started out on our fourth season with the Sparling
Combined Shows this spring, you have behaved yourself
remarkably well.  I know it must have pained you to do so. 
I give you full credit, but don't spoil it all now, please."
"Yes.  You must remember that this is now a Big show--larger this
season than ever before, and you must not expect Mr. Sparling to
excuse your shortcomings as he did in the old days."
"I'm not afraid of Boss Sparling."
"You have no occasion to be, as long as you do your duty and
attend to business.  We owe him a heavy debt of gratitude,
both of us.  You know that, don't you, Teddy?"
"I--I guess so."
"What is the trouble between you and Diaz?" persisted 
Phil Forrest, returning to his original inquiry.
"Well," drawled Teddy, "you know their act?"
"Throwing those peaked hats clear across the arena and catching
the hats on their heads, just like a couple of monkeys."
"I didn't know monkeys ever did that," smiled Phil.
"Well, maybe they don't.  The trained seals do, anyhow."
Phil nodded.
"They--the Spaniards--were doing that the other day when I was
going out after my clown act.  I had picked up the ringmaster's
whip, and as one of the hats went sailing over my head I just
took a shot at it."
"Took a shot at it?"
"Yes.  I fired at it on the wing, as it were.  Don't you
understand?" demanded the lad somewhat impatiently.
Phil shook his head.
"I hit it a crack with the ringmaster's whip and I hit the mark
the first shot.  Down came the hat and it caught me on the nose."
"Then what did you do?"
"Knocked it on the ground, then kicked it out of the ring,"
grinned Teddy.
"Of course you spoiled their act," commented Phil.
"I--I guess I did."
"That was an ungentlemanly thing to do, to say the least.  
It is lucky for you that Mr. Sparling did not happen to see you.
Do you know what would have happened to you if he had?"
"He would have fined me, I suppose."
"No.  You would have closed right there.  He would have had you
sent back home by the first train if he had seen you do a thing
"I don't care.  I can get a job with the Yankee Robinson show any
"Not if you were to be discharged from this outfit for 
bad conduct.  I don't wonder Diaz is angry.  Did he say
anything to you at the time?"
Teddy nodded.
"What did he say?"
"I didn't understand all he said.  Some of it was in Spanish,
but what I did understand was enough," grinned the boy.
"Strong language, eh?"
"Phil, he can beat the boss canvasman in that line."
"I am surprised, Teddy Tucker."
"I don't mean that.  I am surprised that you should so far forget
yourself as to do such a thing.  I don't blame Diaz for being
angry, and I warn you that you had better look out for him.  
Some of those foreigners have very violent tempers."
"Well, he didn't tell the boss, at any rate."
"No.  Perhaps in the long run it might have been better for you
if he had.  Diaz is awaiting his opportunity to get even with you
in his own way.  Look out for him, Teddy."
"He had better look out for me."
"Don't irritate him.  Were I in your place I should go to the
clown and apologize.  Tell him it was a thoughtless act on your
part and that you are sorry you did it--"
"As you please, but that is what I would do."
"You--you would do that?"
"I certainly would."
"And let him give you the laugh?"
"That would make no difference to me.  I should be doing what is
right, and that would be satisfaction enough, no matter what he
said or did after that."
Teddy reflected for a moment.
"Well, maybe that would be a good idea.  And if he won't accept
my apology, what then--shall I hand him a--"
"Smile and leave him.  You will have done the best you could to
make amends."
"All right, I'll apologize," nodded the Circus Boy.  "I'll shed a
tear or two to show him how sorry I am.  Want to see me do it?"
"I should say not.  You will do it better provided I am not
looking on, but for goodness' sake don't make a mess of the
whole business.  It would be too bad to make an enemy of one of
your associates so early in the season.  Think how uncomfortable
it would be for you all through the summer.  He has not been
with us long enough to become used to your practical jokes. 
Perhaps after he gets better acquainted with you, he may not
mind your peculiar ways so much," added Phil, with a 
short laugh.  "Now run along and be good."
Teddy turned away and slipped through the paddock opening, in
front of which the lads had been standing just outside the tent,
leaving Phil looking after him with a half smile on his face.
The Circus Boys were again on the road with the Great Sparling
Combined Shows.  This was their fourth season out, and the
readers will remember them as the same lads who in "THE CIRCUS
BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS," had made their humble start in the
circus world.  During that first season both lads had
distinguished themselves--Phil for his bravery and cool
headedness, Teddy for getting himself into trouble under all
circumstances and conditions.  They had quickly risen, however,
to the grade of real circus performers, the owner of the show
recognizing in each, the making of a fine performer.
In "THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT," it will be recalled
how Phil and his companion won new laurels in the sawdust arena,
and how the former ran down and captured a bad man who had been a
thorn in the side of the circus itself for many weeks through his
efforts to avenge a fancied wrong.  By this time the boys had
become full-fledged circus performers, each playing an important
part in the performance.
It will be recalled, too, how Phil and Teddy in "THE CIRCUS BOYS
IN DIXIE LAND," advanced rapidly in their calling; how Phil was
captured by a rival show, held prisoner on the owner's private
car, and later was obliged to become a performer in the ring of
the rival show.  His escape, his long tramp to rejoin his own
show, followed by the battle of the elephants--will be well
remembered by all the readers of the previous volumes in 
this series.
During the winter just passed, the lads had been attending the
high school at Edmeston, where they made their home, working hard
after school hours to keep themselves in good physical condition
for the next season's work.
Spring came.  The lads passed their final examinations, and, with
their diplomas in their pockets, set out one bright May morning
to join the show which, by this time, had come to be looked upon
by them as a real home.
They had been on the road less than two weeks now, and were
looking forward with keen anticipation to their summer under the
billowing canvas of the Great Sparling Shows.
"I think I _will_ take a peep to see how Teddy is getting
along with his apology," decided Phil, turning and entering
the paddock.  Then he stepped quietly into the dressing tent.
He saw Teddy approach the clown, Diaz, who sat on his trunk
making up his face before a hand mirror.
Teddy halted a few feet from the clown, waiting until the latter
should have observed him.  The clown glanced up, glowered, and
slowly placed the mirror on the trunk beside him.  He seemed
astonished that the boy should have the courage to face him.
Then Teddy, solemn-faced, made his apology.  To Phil Forrest's
listening ears it was the most amazing apology he ever had
listened to.
"I'm sorry I made a monkey of you," said Teddy.
"What!" fairly exploded the clown.
"I'm sorry I made a monkey of you," repeated the Circus Boy in a
slightly louder tone.  "Maybe I wouldn't have done so if I had
had time to think about it."
"You make apology to me--to me?" questioned Diaz, tapping his own
chest significantly.
"Yes; to whom did you think I was making an apology--to the hyena
out under the menagerie top, eh?"
"I am sorry I made a fool of you, Mr. Diaz."
"Yes, I guess you are about right.  You certainly look the
part, and--"
Diaz sprang up with a growl of rage, Tucker giving ground a
little as he observed the anger in the painted face before him. 
Before the lad could raise his hands to protect himself Diaz had
grasped Teddy and hurled him across the dressing tent, where he
landed in a pail of water.
He was up in a twinkling.  His face was flushed and his hands 
were clenched.
No sooner had he gotten to his feet than he observed that the
clown had started for him again.  Teddy squared off, prepared
for fight.  At that moment, however, there came an interruption
that turned the attention of the enraged clown in 
another direction.
Phil Forrest quickly stepped between them facing Diaz.
"What are you going to do?" demanded the Circus Boy in a
quiet voice.
"I punish the monkey-face--"
"You will, eh?" howled Teddy, starting forward.
Phil thrust his companion aside.
"Go away.  I will see if I can explain to him," cautioned Phil,
turning to the clown again, just as the latter was making a rush
"One moment, Mr. Diaz.  My friend Teddy is not very diplomatic,
but he means well.  He apologized to you for what he had done,
did he not?"
"Yes," growled the clown.
"Then why not call it square and--"
"I punish him.  I fix him!" roared Diaz, making a leap for Teddy,
who had managed to edge up nearer to them.
"You will do nothing of the sort," answered Phil Forrest firmly,
again stepping between them.
An angry light glowed in the eyes of the clown.  For an instant
he glared into Phil's steady gray eyes, then all of a sudden
launched a vicious blow at the boy.
The blow failed to reach the mark.  Phil dodged and stepped back
a couple of feet.
Another, as swift as the first was sent straight for his head. 
This blow the Circus Boy skillfully parried, but made no effort 
"Mr. Diaz!  Mr. Diaz!" warned Phil.  "You forget yourself.  
Please don't do anything you will be sorry for afterwards."
"I fix you!" snarled the clown.
"I don't want to hit you, sir, but you may force me to do so."
Phil had no time to warn the fellow further, for the clown
began to rain blows upon him, though with no great exhibition
of boxing skill.  Phil could have landed effectively anywhere
on the clown's body had he chosen to do so.
Instead, the boy slowly gave ground, defending himself cleverly. 
Not one single blow from the powerful fist of Diaz reached him,
Phil exhibiting the wonderful self-control that was
characteristic of him.  He even found opportunity to warn Teddy
to get out of the tent until the tempest had blown over.
Teddy, however, stood with hands thrust in his trousers pockets,
shoulders hunched forward, glaring at Diaz.
"Don't you get in this now," breathed Phil.  "Keep away! 
Keep away!  I'll--"
At that moment Phil stumbled over a trunk, landing on his head 
and shoulders.  Quick as he was he found himself unable to turn
over and roll away soon enough to get beyond reach of the 
angry clown.
Diaz hurled himself upon the slender, though athletic figure of
the Circus Boy, almost knocking the breath out of Phil.
No sooner had he done so than something else happened.  A body
launched itself through the air.  The body belonged to Tucker. 
Teddy landed with great force on the head and shoulders of the
enraged clown, flattening the latter down upon Phil with crushing
weight, and nearly knocking Forrest senseless.
JANUARY LENDS A FOOT
"Stop it!" roared a voice.  "We don't allow 'roughhouse' in the
dressing tent."
"Yes," added another; "go out on the lot if you want to settle
your differences."
Mr. Miaco, the head clown, who had been a true friend to the
boys from the beginning of their circus career, had discovered
what was going on about the time Teddy decided to mix in in
the disagreement.  Mr. Miaco sprang up and ran to the
struggling heap.  Grasping Teddy firmly by the shoulder he
tossed the lad aside.
"Now, you stay out of this, unless you want a thrashing from me,"
the head clown warned.
The next to feel the grip of his powerful hand was the clown,
Diaz, and when Mr. Miaco discovered that the clown had Phil
Forrest down, he could scarcely restrain himself from severely
punishing the fellow.  However, Miaco satisfied himself with
hauling Diaz from his victim with little ceremony.  Then he
jerked the angry clown to his feet.
"Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?" demanded Miaco,
gazing at the other sternly.
"This no business of yours," growled Diaz.
"That remains to be seen.  I'll decide whether it is any of my
affair or not.  Phil, what does this mean?"
"Just a little matter between ourselves.  Thank you for helping
"Did he attack you, Phil?"
"He did, but he no doubt thought he had sufficient provocation. 
Perhaps we should not be too hard on Mr. Diaz."
"Then the best thing to do is to tell Mr. Sparling.  I--"
"Please don't do anything of the sort," begged Phil.  "In the
first place, Diaz's anger was directed against Teddy, and I had
to mix myself in their quarrel.  Teddy did something to him a
few weeks ago that made the clown very angry, and I don't 
blame Diaz."
"Was there any excuse for his pitching into you in this manner?"
"Well," laughed Phil, "perhaps the situation did not demand
exactly that sort of treatment."
"How did you come to let him get you so easily?"
"I fell over something."
"Oh, that's it?"
"Yes.  I wasn't trying to hit him.  I could have done so easily,
but I felt that I was in the wrong."
"Humph!" grunted the head clown.  Then he turned to Diaz.
"See here, you fellow!"
"What you want?" demanded Diaz in a surly tone.
"I want to advise you to let those boys alone in the future. 
They have been with this show a long time, and they are highly
thought of by Mr. Sparling.  Were he to hear what you have done
tonight I rather think you would pack your trunk and quit 
right here.  I shall not tell him.  Next time I see you doing
any such thing you will have to answer to me.  I'm the head
clown here, and I won't stand for one of my men pitching 
Teddy was chuckling to himself over the severe rebuke that Miaco
was administering to his clown.
"Do you boys intend going on tonight?" Miaco demanded suddenly,
turning on Teddy.
"Certainly," answered Phil.
"Then I should advise you to be getting into your makeups."
"Why, what time is it?"
"A quarter to eight."
"Whew!  Come on, Teddy."
A few moments more and peace had been restored in the dressing
tent, though Diaz was muttering to himself as he laid the powder
over his face, preparatory to his first entry into the ring.
"I am afraid we have not heard the last of Diaz, Teddy,"
confided Phil to his companion.  "You see what your moment
of thoughtlessness has brought upon us, don't you?"
"You didn't have to mix in the row.  I could have handled him."
"I am forced to admit that you are right.  I sought to avoid
trouble and I was the direct cause of a lot of it.  There goes
the first call.  Hurry up!"
The Circus Boys had, indeed, made an enemy.  It was noticed,
however, that Manuel, the assistant of Diaz, had taken no part in
the row.  The young man had calmly proceeded with his making up
without appearing to take the slightest interest in the affair. 
Whether or not his apparent indifference was merely assumed was
The two boys were not performing on the flying rings this season.
They had retained all their other acts, however, though the star
act was the flying trapeze, in which Phil Forrest was now one of
the leading performers.
Teddy rode his donkey, January, took part in the ground tumbling,
acted as shadow again for the clown Shivers, besides making
himself generally useful in some of the other acts.
As for Phil's bareback riding, he occupied the center ring in
this act, as he had done the season before.  He had come to be
perhaps the most useful man with the Sparling show.
"I advise you to look out for that fellow.  He is a dangerous
customer," warned Miaco under his breath, as Phil sat down on his
horse during a rest in the performance.
The Circus Boy nodded his understanding, but appeared little
disturbed at Miaco's warning.  Like the seasoned circus man that
he was, he had learned to take things as they came, making the
best of every situation when he came face to face with it.
Diaz and his assistant were entering the ring as Phil left it. 
They began throwing their hats, winning great applause, for their
act was a clever one of its kind.  At about the same time, Teddy
Tucker and January came on, the Circus Boy howling, January
braying and bucking, beating the air with his heels, for he had
been taught some entirely new tricks during the winter.
The ringmaster held up his hand for silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you, January.  
As January is the first month of the year, so is this January
first in the donkey world.  You will observe how docile and kind
he appears.  Yet, ladies and gentlemen, the management of this
show will give a hundred dollars to any person who can stick 
on his back for a full minute--only sixty seconds, ladies 
and gentlemen.  Do you know of any easier or faster way to 
make money?  Six thousand dollars an hour if you stay that long. 
Who will be the first to earn the money?"
It was the first time the announcement had been made from 
the ring.  Mr. Sparling had given his consent, even though 
he had not seen the act.  He had, however, observed Teddy 
engaged in a tussle with the beast that afternoon, and could
readily understand that what Teddy told him about January's
contrariness was not overdrawn.
A colored man came down from the audience, and, throwing off his
coat, announced his intention of riding the mule.
January appeared to have no objection, permitting the colored
man to get on his back without offering the least opposition. 
To Teddy, who stood in front of the animal, grinning, there was
a glint in the eye of the mule that spelled trouble for the
colored man.
Suddenly January reared, then as quickly tipped the other way
until it appeared to the spectators as if he were standing on
The rider suddenly landed on his back in the sawdust.
"The gentleman loses," announced the ringmaster.  "Is there any
other gentleman in the audience who thinks he can earn one
hundred dollars a minute--six thousand dollars an hour?"
No one appeared to be anxious to make the attempt.
Manuel, in the meantime, had drawn closer, paying strict
attention to the words of the ringmaster.
"You give money for riding the burro?" questioned the
little Spaniard.
"Burro?  This is no Mexican burro, this is a donkey!" sniffed
Teddy contemptuously.
The ringmaster instantly scented an opportunity to have some fun,
and at the same time make the audience laugh.  He glanced about
to see if Mr. Sparling were under the big top, and not seeing
him, instantly decided to take a long chance.
"Do you think you can ride January, sir?"
"I ride burro."
"Very well, it is your privilege to do so if you can.  Ladies and
gentlemen, this clown has never before attempted this feat.  
He thinks he can ride the donkey.  If he succeeds he will receive
the reward offered by the management of the show, just the same
as you would have done had you performed the feat."
Teddy stroked January's nose, then leaning over, the Circus Boy
whispered in the animal's ear.
"January," he said, "you've got a solemn duty to perform.  
If you shirk it you are no longer a friend of mine, and you
get no more candy--understand?  No more candy."
January curled his upper lip ever so little and brayed dismally.
"That's right; I knew you would agree to the sentiment."
"Get away from his head, Master Teddy.  The Spanish clown is
about to distinguish himself," announced the ringmaster.
Manuel was an agile little fellow.  While the announcement was
being made he had been taking mental measurement of the beast
and deciding upon his course of action.
Ere Teddy had stepped back the Spaniard took a running start,
and, with a leap, landed fairly on the back of the donkey.
The latter, taken by surprise, cleared the ground with all
four feet and bucked, but the rider had flung his arms about
the donkey's neck, clinging with both feet to the beast's
body, grimly determined to win that hundred dollars or die
in the attempt.
"Go it, January," encouraged Teddy.  "Give it to him!  
Soak him hard!"
January stood on his hind feet, then on his head, as it were,
but still the Spaniard clung doggedly.
By this time the donkey had begun to get angry.  He had been
taken an unfair advantage of and he did not like it.  Suddenly he
launched into a perfect volley of kicks, each kick giving the
rider such a violent jolt that he was rapidly losing his hold.
"Keep it up!  Keep it up!  You've got him!" exulted the
The audience was howling with delight.
"There he goes!" shrieked Teddy.
Manuel, now as helpless as a ship without a rudder, was being
buffeted over the back of the plunging animal.
Manuel was yelling in his native language, but if anyone
understood what he was saying, that one gave no heed.  Teddy, on
the other hand, was urging January with taunt and prod of the
ringmaster's whip.
Suddenly the Spanish clown was bounced over the donkey's rump,
landing on the animal's hocks.  It was January's moment--the
moment he had been cunningly waiting and planning for.  
The donkey's hoofs shot up into the air with the clown on them. 
The hoofs were quickly drawn back, but the Spanish clown
continued right on, sailing through the air like a great 
gaudy projectile.
The audience yelled its approval.
Manuel landed with a crash in the midst of the lower
grandstand seats.  A second later there was a mix-up that
required the united services of a dozen ring attendants to
straighten out.
In the meantime, Teddy Tucker was rolling on the ground near the
center pole, howling with delight, while January, with lowered
head, was trotting innocently toward the paddock.
The ringmaster's whistle trilled for the next act, and the show
went on with its characteristic dash and sprightliness.
However, Teddy Tucker's plan to get one of the Spanish 
hat-throwing clowns into trouble had been an entire success. 
He had succeeded, also, in making another bitter enemy for
the Circus Boys.
A DAY OF MEMORIES
Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show, had been a witness of
the latter part of Teddy's act.  The showman was standing
over near the entrance to the menagerie tent when Manuel took
his unexpected flight, and the proprietor sat down on the
grass, laughing until the tears started from his eyes.
The act had been a breach of discipline, so Mr. Sparling
prudently kept himself out of sight until the show had
progressed further.
Later in the evening he chanced to pass Teddy out in the paddock.
"Well, my lad, how is January working tonight?" he asked, with a
twinkle in his eyes.
"Never better, sir, thank you."
"I presume he obeys your commands perfectly, eh?"
"Does everything I tell him to, Mr. Sparling.  I can do anything
with that donkey.  Why, I could wink at him and make him kick
your head off.  I--"
"I'll take your word for it, young man--I'll take your word
for it.  Let me warn you to be careful that you do not tell
him to do anything that will interfere with the programme. 
We must have our acts clean cut, and embodying nothing that
has not been arranged for in advance.  Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," answered Teddy, giving the owner a keen,
inquiring glance.
"I'll bet he saw that," mused the lad.  "He's letting me off
easy because he had to laugh, just the same as the rest of the
people did."
"What did Mr. Sparling have to say?" questioned Phil, who had
emerged from the dressing tent just as Teddy was walking away
from the showman.
Teddy told him.
"You got off pretty easy, I must say.  It is a wonder he did not
discipline you for that."
"Do you think he saw Manuel fly?"
"He did, or else someone told him.  Be careful, Teddy!  You are
laying up trouble for all of us," warned Phil.
"I got even with Mr. Hat Thrower, just the same," grinned Tucker.
Teddy was the happiest boy in the show that night, and he went to
his sleeping quarters chuckling all the way.
The show, this season, had opened in Chicago, and was now working
its way across the state of Illinois.  The route had caused
considerable comment among the show people.  They did not
understand what the plans of the owner might be.
Ordinarily, give a showman the first week or two of the show's
route and he will tell you just what parts of the country the 
show will visit during that particular season.  The performers
were unable to do so in this instance.  Phil Forrest was as much
perplexed as the others, but he made no mention of this to 
Mr. Sparling.
"He has some surprise up his sleeve, I am sure," decided
Phil shrewdly.
The next morning Phil asked Mr. Miaco, the head clown, 
if he knew where they were going.
"I do not," answered the clown.  "This route has kept 
me guessing.  Boss Sparling may be headed for Australia 
for all I know.  He's just as likely to go there as 
anywhere else.  Has the Spaniard bothered you since 
that mix-up?"
"Well, keep away from him.  That is my advice."
"I shall not bother him.  You may depend upon that, Mr. Miaco.  
I can't say as much for Teddy."
"Teddy put up that job with January last night, didn't he?"
"He hasn't said so."
"Not necessary.  I saw the whole thing.  Lucky for Teddy that 
Mr. Sparling did not happen to be about."
"I am not so sure that he was not."
Phil explained what Mr. Sparling had said to Teddy out in 
the paddock.
"Yes, he saw it all right, but I guess he doesn't know about the
trouble in the dressing tent yesterday."
"No, I think not.  I hope he does not hear of it, either.  
I do not wish Mr. Sparling to think that I am a troublemaker,
or that I was mixed up in an unseemly row in the dressing tent. 
I should feel very much humiliated were I to be called to
account for a thing like that.  What are all those flags flying
for in town today?"
"Don't you know?"
"No, I don't."
"You don't know what day this is?"
"This is Decoration Day."
"Oh, that's so."
"We lose all track of days in the show business.  I'll wager you
do not even know what town we are performing in today," laughed
"I shall have to confess that I do not."
"I thought so.  Of course you know we are in the state 
of Illinois?"
"Yes, I think I have heard something to that effect,"
grinned Phil.
By the time the boys had eaten their breakfast, and had strolled
over toward the tents, they found the dressing tents in place and
the performers busily engaged in unpacking their belongings,
hanging their costumes on lines stretched across the dressing
tent, and making such repairs in the costumes as were found to be
necessary, for a showman must be handy with the needle as well as
with bar and trapeze.
Phil's trunk was next to that of Diaz.  The Circus Boy did not
mind this at all, but the clown appeared to feel a continual
resentment at the fact.
"Good morning, Mr. Diaz," greeted the lad, with a sunny smile. 
"Shall we shake hands and be friends?"
Diaz glared at him, but made no reply.  He did not even appear to
have observed the hand that was extended toward him.
"I am sorry you feel that way about it, sir.  If I was hasty I
beg you will forgive me," urged Phil.
Diaz turned his back on him.
"Very well, sir," said the Circus Boy, a little proudly and with
slightly heightened color, "I shall not trouble you again."
Phil turned away and began unpacking his trunk, giving no further
heed to the sullen clown.
"The Honorable Mr. Diaz says 'nix,'" laughed Teddy, who had been
an amused witness to the one-sided conversation, the word "nix"
being the circus man's comprehensive way of saying, "I refuse."
"Don't stir him up, Teddy," warned Phil.
"Say, what's going on over in the women's dressing tent?"
"I did not know that anything out of the ordinary was happening
there," said Phil.  "Why?"
"I see a lot of folks going in and out."
"Nothing unusual about that, I guess."
"Yes, there is."
"What makes you think so?"
" 'Cause they're carrying flowers in and making a great fuss.  
I'm going over to find out.  Come along?"
"No, thank you.  You had better keep out.  You know you are not
supposed to go in the other dressing tent."
Teddy was not disturbed by the warning.  He turned and started
for the women's dressing tent, where he saw several of the other
performers passing through the entrance.  Phil, who had stepped
to the door of his own dressing tent, observed the same thing.
"I guess there must be something going on over there.  I shall
have to find out what it means," he thought.
"May I come in, Mrs. Waite?" called Phil from the entrance.
"Sure.  Come in Phil," smiled the wardrobe woman.
Teddy had not wasted the breath to ask permission to enter, but
the moment he stepped inside something caught his eyes, causing
them to open a little wider.
Two trunks had been drawn up in the center; over them was thrown
an American flag.  At one end a flag on a standard had been
planted, and on the trunks, flowers and wreaths had been placed.
"What's that thing?" asked Teddy.
"That is my grave, Master Teddy," answered Mrs. Waite in a
"Your grave?"
"Pshaw!  That's a funny kind of grave.  What's buried there--your
pet poodle?"
"Teddy!  Teddy!" whispered Phil reprovingly.
"Go 'way.  This is some kind of a joke," growled Teddy.
"It is not a joke, though I do not understand the meaning of it
just yet.  You say this is your grave, Mrs. Waite?" asked Phil.
"Yes, Phil.  You know my husband was a soldier?"
"No, I did not know that, Mrs. Waite.  Will you tell me all
Phil was deeply interested now.
"My husband was killed at the battle of Gettysburg.  He lies in
Woodlawn Cemetery.  I am never at home on Decoration Day.  I am
always on the road with the circus, so I cannot decorate the 
real grave."
"I understand," breathed the Circus Boy.
"Being unable to decorate my husband's real grave, I carry my
grave with me.  Each Memorial Day morning I prepare my grave
here in the dressing tent, and decorate it as you see here,
and all my friends of the circus are very good and thoughtful
on that occasion."
"How long have you been with the show--how many years have
you been decorating this little property grave, Mrs. Waite?"
"Thirty years, Phil."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes, and it seems no more than two."
"Do you intend remaining with the show much longer--aren't you
ever going to retire?"
"Yes.  I am going to retire.  I am getting old.  I have laid up
enough money to keep me for the rest of my life, and I am going
to take a rest after two years more with this outfit."
"I am afraid you will miss the show," smiled the lad.
"I know I shall.  I shall miss the life, the color, and I shall
miss my boys and my girls.  I love them all very much."
One after another, the women of the circus had come in to the
dressing tent, depositing their little floral remembrances on the
property grave while Mrs. Waite was talking.
Teddy, as soon as he fully comprehended the meaning of the scene,
had slipped out.  In a little while he returned.  He brought with
him a bunch of daisies that he had gathered on the circus lot. 
These he had tied with a soiled pink ribbon that he had ripped
from one of his ring costumes.
Phil saw the daisies, and, noting their significance, 
smiled approvingly.
"Teddy has a heart, after all," was his mental comment.
Teddy Tucker proceeded to the flag-draped grave, gently placed
his offering upon it, then turned away.
As he did so, he was observed to brush a hand across his eyes as
if something there were blurring his sight.
THEIR CURIOSITY AROUSED
"Phil, I have an idea that you are wondering where we are bound
for?" said Mr. Sparling, with a merry twinkle in his eyes.
"I will confess that I have been somewhat curious," smiled
the boy.  "From the route I could not imagine where you
were heading."
"You are not the only one who has been guessing.  Our rivals are
positively nervous over the movements of this show.  They think
we are going to jump into the Mississippi River, or something of
"Or float on it," added Phil.
Mr. Sparling eyed him keenly.
They were in the owner's private tent, discussing the business 
of the show itself, as these two did every day of the season, for
Mr. Sparling had come to place no little reliance on the judgment
of his young Circus Boy.
"What made you say that, Phil?"
"I had no particular reason.  Perhaps I thought I was saying
something funny."
"Nothing very funny about that," answered the showman.
"I agree with you."
"I thought perhaps you might ask me where we were routed for 
this season."
"And I thought you would tell me when you wished me to know,"
answered the boy.
"It was not because I did not wish you to know our route, Phil.  
I rather thought I should like to give you a surprise."
"We are going to surprise the show world at the same time, so you
see you are not the only one who will be surprised."
"You arouse my curiosity, Mr. Sparling."
"Still you refuse to ask where we are going," replied the
showman, laughing heartily.  "I have made my arrangements with
the utmost secrecy because I did not wish any of the opposition
shows to get a line on my plans.  Not one of them has done so
thus far.  Tomorrow they will know.  Or at least by the day
after tomorrow.  I am not going to let you in on my little
secret today either.  Do you think you can possess your soul 
in patience until then?"
"I think there will be no trouble about that.  If I have
restrained my curiosity so far I surely can control it
until tomorrow.  We show at Milledgeville tomorrow, do
"That's what the route card says and I guess the route card
"Small town, is it not?"
"Yes, one of the little river towns.  Do you know much about 
"Nothing except what I observed when we played the southern
states last season.  I should like to take a trip down the river,
and hope I may have an opportunity to do so one of these days."
"You'll have the opportunity, all right."
"I said you would have the opportunity."
"I hope so."
"Perhaps sooner than you think, too.  How is your friend, Tucker,
getting along?"
"Pretty well, thank you.  I guess he is working better this
season than he did last.  His acts are much more finished, don't
you think so?"
"Yes.  I noticed that he nearly finished a clown with one of
his acts the other night," answered Mr. Sparling dryly, whereat
both laughed heartily.  "Have you had any trouble, with any of
"Do you mean myself, personally?"
"Either or both of you?"
"Some slight disagreements.  What trouble we have had has been
due wholly to our own fault," answered Phil manfully.
"With whom?"
"I would rather not say anything about it, if you will permit me
to remain silent."
"You are a queer boy, Phil."
"So I have been told before," answered the lad, laughing.
"And your friend Teddy is a confounded sight more so.  I'm afraid
he would have a hard time with most any other show in spite of
the fact that he is an excellent performer."
"I have told him as much."
"Oh, you have?"
"What does he say?"
"He doesn't take my advice very seriously, I am afraid.  Teddy is
all right at heart, however."
"I agree with you."
Phil then related to Mr. Sparling the incident of the dressing
tent, when Teddy gathered the daisies to place on the "grave" in
memory of Mrs. Waite's soldier dead, to all of which the showman
listened with thoughtful face.  Mr. Sparling rose, walked to the
door of the tent, then returned and sat down.
"You never knew that I was a soldier, too, did you, Phil?"
"No, sir.  Were you really?"
"Yes.  I fought with the South.  I was a drummer boy in a Georgia
regiment," said the showman reminiscently.  "Perhaps had I been
older I might have done differently, but I loved my Sunny South
and I love it now."
"So do I," added Phil Forrest fervently.
"But the war is over.  It is the show business that concerns us
most intimately at the present moment.  I want to say that you
are doing excellent work on the flying trapeze this season."
"Thank you.  I am doing my best."
"You always do.  Whatever you attempt you go at with all the
force you possess, and that is no slight factor, either.  I have
been waiting to talk seriously with you for sometime.  You have
finished your studies, have you not?"
"What are your plans for the future?"
"I have no immediate plans beyond continuing in the 
show business.  I am trying to lay up some money so I 
can go into business some of these days."
"What business?"
"Circus business, of course.  It is the only business I know
anything about, and I know very little about that, it seems
"Let me tell you something, Phil.  Nine-tenths of the men who
have been in it nearly all their lives know no more about the
circus business than you do.  Many of them not so much.  You are
a born showman.  Take my word for it, you have a very brilliant
career before you.  You spoke, sometime ago, about wishing to go
to college."
"I should like to go."
"Under the circumstances I would advise against it, though I am a
thorough believer in the value of an education.  You have a good
start now.  Were you to go to college you would spend four years
there and when you finished, you would find that the show world
had been moving right along just the same.  You would be out of
it, so to speak.  You would have been standing still so far as
the circus was concerned, for four full years.  Think it over and
some of these days we will have another talk."
"What would you advise, Mr. Sparling?"
"I don't advise.  I am simply pointing out the facts for you to
consider, that's all."
"I thank you, Mr. Sparling.  I already owe you a debt 
of gratitude.  I shall never forget all you have done for
Teddy and myself, and I am sure Teddy also appreciates it."
"You owe me nothing."
"Oh, yes, I do!  I shall never be able wholly to pay the
debt, either."
"We will drop that side of the case, my boy.  You will want to
pack all your things for moving tonight."
"You mean my dressing-room trunk?"
"I mean all your belongings."
Phil looked his surprise.
"I have special reference to your stuff in the sleeper."
"May I ask why, Mr. Sparling."
"Because tonight will be the last night you will spend on the
sleeping car for sometime, in all probability."
"I don't understand.  Am I to leave the show?"
"Leave the show?"
"I should say not.  You leave the show?  I would rather lose any
ten men in it than to have you go away.  I trust you never will
leave it for any length of time--at least not while I am in 
the business.  No, you are going on a little trip--the show is
going on a little trip.  That is the surprise I have in store 
for you.  You will know tomorrow morning.  Not another word now,
Phil Forrest.  Run along and get ready for the performance."
The Circus Boy hurried over to the dressing tent, full of
curiosity and anticipation of what awaited him on the morrow. 
Strange to say, Phil had not the least idea what the plan of the
owner of the show might be.
The surprise was to be a complete one.
THE CIRCUS BOYS' SURPRISE
"Come, Phil and Teddy.  I want you to take a little walk with
me," called Mr. Sparling early next morning after they had
finished their breakfast.
That morning orders had been given in each of the sleeping cars,
for the performers to pack their belongings, ready to be moved
from the cars.
The show people could not understand it, and gossip was rife
among them as to the meaning of the unusual order.
Orders also had been given to the various heads of departments to
prepare to desert the train, bag and baggage.
"Where are we going?" demanded Teddy suspiciously.
"For a walk.  You need not go along, unless you wish to," added
the showman.
"Of course I wish to go.  Do you think I want to stay on the lot
when anything is going on somewhere else, eh?"
"There would be plenty going on, if you remained.  I am
sure of that," replied Mr. Sparling, with a short laugh. 
"Come along, boys."
Still wondering what it was all about, Phil and Teddy
walked along with their employer.  They passed on through
the business street of the town, then turned off sharply,
heading for the north.  A few moments of this and they
turned to the left again.
"Hello, there's the river," announced Teddy.
"Yes, that is the river."
"I wish I could take a boat ride."
"You shall have one tonight."
Phil glanced at Mr. Sparling inquiringly.
"Oh, look at that funny boat!" cried Teddy.  "It's yellow. 
I've heard of a yellow dog, but I can't say that I ever heard
of a yellow boat.  And it has a paddle wheel on behind. 
Well, if that isn't the limit!  Why, there are three of them. 
What are they, Mr. Sparling?"
Phil's eyes already were widening.  He had caught sight of
something that shed a flood of light on the mystery--the surprise
that Mr. Sparling had in store for them.  But he was not positive
enough to commit himself.
A moment more, and he knew he was not wrong.
"Teddy, if you will read the words on the side of that boat
nearest to us, you will understand, I think."
"T-h-e," spelled Teddy.
"The," finished Phil.
"S-p-a-r-l-i-n-g, Sparling.  C-o-m-b-i-n-e-d Shows.  Well, what 
do you think of _that?_"
"I hardly know what to think, yet," answered Phil Forrest.  
"The Sparling Combined Shows.  Do you mean to say--?"
"I haven't said a word," answered Mr. Sparling, with a merry
twinkle in his eyes.  "I am waiting for you to say something."
"I--I am afraid I am too much astonished to say much.  Do you
mean we are going to take to the river?"
"With the show?"
"What's that?" demanded Teddy.
"Didn't you hear?"
"I heard, but I don't understand.  What's it all about?  What is
it about those yellow boats over there?"
"The Sparling Circus is going down the Mississippi," Mr. Sparling
informed him.
"On those things?"
"On those boats."
"Then I think I'll walk.  You don't catch me riding on any
boat that has to have a wheel on behind to help push it along. 
No, siree, not for mine!"
"But, Teddy, they are fine boats," said Phil.
"They are among the few typical Mississippi River steamers,"
broke in Mr. Sparling.  "I got them far up the river last winter.
When I first conceived the plan of sending my show down the
river, on the river itself, I took a trip out here to look over
the ground--"
"You mean the water," corrected Teddy innocently.
"A little of both, my boy.  I found that no show since the early
days of the barnstorming outfits had ever attempted the feat.  
I learned a number of things that made me all the more anxious 
to try it.  The next question was a boat.  I heard of some of 
the old broad-beamed river craft that were out of commission 
up stream.  I found them exactly suited to our requirements, and
I rented them for the season.  It cost quite a sum to have them
fixed up, but you will find them just the thing for our work. 
What do you think of the idea?"
"Great!" breathed Phil.  "It fairly takes my breath away."
"When--when do we move in?" asked Teddy Tucker wonderingly.
"We begin moving in this morning.  I have given the
orders to have the property removed from the trains and
brought here, now--that is, all that will not be needed
for today's performances.  Tonight all hands will sleep
on the boats.  How will you like that, boys?"
"Fine!" answered Phil, with glowing eyes.
"I'll tell you after I try it," added Teddy prudently.
Across the sides of each boat, in big black letters, were the
words, "The Sparling Combined Shows."  Below this lettering
appeared the names of the boats.  The "River Queen" was the name
emblazoned on one, several shades more yellow than the other two.
"I guess we shall have to call her the 'Yellow Peril,'"
laughed Phil.  "Don't you think that would be an
appropriate name?"
Mr. Sparling laughed good-naturedly.
The companion boat to the "Queen" was named the "Mary Jane." 
Teddy promptly renamed her the "Fat Marie," in honor of The
Fattest Woman on Earth, much to the amusement of Phil and 
Mr. Sparling.
The "Nemah" was the third boat of the fleet, a much smaller
craft than either of the others.  The owner intended to use
the "Nemah" as the Flying Squadron of the show, the boat that
went ahead of the main body of the show, bearing the cook
tent, kitchen equipment and as much other property as could
be loaded on it.
"Well, Teddy," said Mr. Sparling, "in view of the fact that you
and Phil have renamed the 'River Queen' and the 'Mary Jane,' 
I suppose you will not be satisfied until you have rechristened
the 'Nemah.'  What will you call her?"
"'Little Nemo,'" answered the lad promptly.
"You boys beat anything I ever came across in all my circus
experience," remarked Mr. Sparling.
"Where do we sleep?" asked Phil.
"The cabins are all on the upper decks.  The lower decks will be
used wholly for the equipment.  I have had all the partitions
ripped out, down there, and the deck flooring lowered a little 
so that the elephants will have room to stand.  I have also had
smaller wheels put on all the wagons.  Had I not done so the
wagons would not have gone in through the openings on the sides."
"What about the tent poles?" asked Phil.  "You never will be able
to drive a pole wagon on board."
"You have an eye to business, I see.  Have you noticed that the
center poles are spliced this season?"
"Yes, I did observe that."
"It was for the purpose of easier handling.  The poles will
all be swung to the upper decks in bundles.  In the morning
they will be lowered to the wagons, which can be done
without much difficulty.  All the poles, except those
belonging to the big top, will go out on the 'Little Nemo,'
as you have named her.  At first, handling the show will be
a little awkward, but we shall soon get the hang of it and
fit into the new arrangement just as if we had been always
traveling on boats.  Traveling on the water, you see, we
shall be able to show on both sides of the river all the way
down, which we could not do were we traveling by train. 
That will give us a long season, short runs overnight and a
fine outing.  Everybody will be delighted with the change,
don't you think so?"
"If not, they will be pretty hard to please, I should say,"
rejoined Phil.  "Why, it will be a regular vacation--all summer!"
"How far do we go?" asked Teddy.
"The length of the river."
"To the Gulf of Mexico?"
"Yes.  New Orleans probably will be our last stand of the season.
That is, if we do not get wrecked on the big river."
"We can swim out if we do," suggested Teddy.
"I hope nothing of the sort will occur.  I think our new plans
will make a great hit along the river."
"They cannot help but do so.  We shall have a fine business, 
I know," smiled Phil," and our rivals will be green with envy."
"May we go on board?"
"I hardly think you will have time this morning, Teddy.  You boys
had better get back to the lot now.  I will let you run the show,
Phil, as I shall be busy most of the day arranging for the
transfer to our new quarters.  I chose Saturday for the purpose,
as it will give us plenty of time.  We probably shall not get
away from here much before daylight."
"What boat do we berth on?"
"The 'Fat Marie,'" answered the showman, with a laugh.  
"I believe I'll have these new names of yours painted 
on the boats.  They certainly make a hit with me.  
Skip along, now!"
Almost too full of the new plans to talk, the Circus Boys hurried
back to the circus lot.  Mr. Sparling's surprise had been a
surprise, indeed.
By the time they reached the lot the news had been circulated
that the show was to take to the river, and the show people were
discussing excitedly the new plan.
All was bustle and excitement, and the occupants of the dressing
tent, who were preparing for the parade, crowded about the boys
to hear of the new boats.
The Sparling show had never gone along with the snap and
enthusiasm that it did that afternoon.  The performers were on
their mettle and the little town was treated to a performance
such as it had never seen before.
Teddy distinguished himself by landing on his head on the
somersaulting mat, narrowly escaping breaking his neck, and
Phil took an unexpected header into the big net during his
trapeze act, getting a jolt that made his head ache for an
hour afterwards.  Nothing else of an exciting nature occurred
during the afternoon performance, but at the evening show the
circus people were not so fortunate.
At that performance they met with excitement enough to last them
for a long time.
A BOLT FROM THE CLOUDS
"The old hen has laid an egg!  The old hen has laid an egg!"
The performance was moving merrily on, the gasoline lamps
shedding a bright glow over the golden haze of the circus tent,
when a diminutive clown rushed into the arena bearing something
in his arms.
To the spectators it was just another clownish act, and they
laughed uproariously.  The circus people, however, realized at
once that something not down on the bills was taking place, and
they cast wondering glances at the little clown, who was dancing
about in high glee.
"Get out of here!" growled the ringmaster angrily.  "What do you
mean by breaking into the performance in this way.  Out of here, 
"The old hen has laid an egg!" repeated the clown, holding aloft
the object that all might see.
Teddy Tucker, for it was he, cared nothing for the crowds
occupying the seats.  In fact, it is doubtful that he gave
any thought to them at all.
"What do you mean?" demanded the ringmaster.
"The ostrich.  Don't you see?"
"The ostrich?"
"Yes, she's laid an egg."
Quick to appreciate the value of the clown's interruption, the
ringmaster took the great egg that Teddy had brought in, and held
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, as the band suddenly ceased
playing, "wonders never cease in the Great Sparling Shows.  
You have been treated to startling feats of skill upon the lofty
flying swings; you have witnessed desperately dangerous displays
of unrivaled aerialism, and you are about to observe the
thundering, furious Roman chariot races three times about 
the arena--"
"Say, what are you trying to get at?" growled Teddy Tucker. 
"Give me back that egg."
"But a sensation greater than all of these is in store for you,
though you did not know it.  The tallest hen in the world has
laid an egg for your instruction and amusement--the ostrich has
immortalized the town of Milledgeville by laying an egg within
its sacred precincts, and my friend, Teddy Tucker, in discovering
it, has accomplished an achievement beside which the discovery of
the north or south pole is a cheap side show."
The audience yelled its approval and appreciation.
"Young man, what do you intend to do with this wonderful and 
rare specimen?"
"What do I intend to do with it?"
"Yes.  Is it your purpose to present it to this beautiful little
city, to be placed among its other treasures in the city hall?"
"Well, I guess not!"
"What, then?"
"I'm going to eat it.  That's what I'm going to do with it,"
answered Teddy in a voice loud enough to be heard all over
the big top.
The people shouted.
"Give me that egg!" demanded the Circus Boy, grabbing the big
white ball and marching off toward the paddock with it, to the
accompaniment of the laughter and applause of the audience.
"Now that we have seen this remarkable Easter achievement, the
performance will proceed," announced the ringmaster, blowing his
whistle and waving his hand.
The band struck up; the performers, grinning broadly, took up
their work where they had left off upon the entrance of Teddy
Tucker with the giant egg.
The incident had served to put both performers and audience in
high good humor.  Mr. Sparling was not present to witness it.  
He was busy down by the docks, attending to the loading of such
of the show's equipment as was ready to be packed away for
shipment on the Sparling fleet.
Perhaps it was just as well for Teddy, that the owner of the show
was not present, as he might have objected to the Circus Boy's
interruption of the performance.
Teddy was irrepressible.  He stood in awe of no one except 
the Lady Snake Charmer, and did pretty much as he pleased all 
the time.  Yet, beneath the surface, there was the making of a
manly man, a resolute, sturdy character of whom great things
might be expected in the not far distant future.
As the performance proceeded an ominous rumbling was
suddenly heard.
"I think it is going to storm," Phil confided to his working mate
on the flying trapeze.
"Sounds that way.  Is that thunder I hear?"
"Guess it won't amount to much.  Just a spring shower.  You will
find a lot of them along the river for the next month or so."
"I have always heard that rivers were wet," replied Phil
humorously, swinging off into space, landing surely and
gracefully in the arms of the catcher in the trapeze act.
"I think we had better cut the act short."
"Oh, no, let's go on with it," answered Phil.  "I am not afraid
if you are not."
"Afraid nothing.  I remember still what a narrow escape we had
last season just before that blow-down, when Wallace, the big
lion, made his escape.  That was a lively time, wasn't it?"
"Rather," agreed Phil.
The ringmaster motioned to them to bring their act to a close,
and the band leader, catching the significance of the movement,
urged his musicians to play louder.  The crash of cymbals and the
boom of the bass drum and the big horns almost drowned out the
rumbling of the thunder.
Those up near the dome of the tent, still going through their
acts, now heard the patter of heavy rain drops on the canvas top.
The lights throughout the tent flickered a little under the
draught that sucked in through the openings in the tent and 
the open space at the top of the side walls.
The audience showed signs of restlessness.
"It is only a spring shower, ladies and gentlemen," announced
the ringmaster.  "You have no cause for alarm.  The hats of the
ladies are perfectly safe.  This tent is waterproof.  You could
soak it in the Mississippi without getting a drop of water
through it.  That's the way the Sparling show looks out for 
its patrons.  Nothing cheap about the Sparling outfit!"
A laugh greeted his remarks.
A blinding flash faded the gasoline lamps to a ghostly flame. 
A few seconds later a crash that shook the earth followed,
causing the audience to shiver with nervous apprehension.
Teddy had come out and was gazing aloft.  He grinned at Phil,
noting at the same time that all the lofty performers were
preparing to come down.
"Hello, fraid-cats up there!" jeered the Circus Boy.
"You get out of here!" snapped the ringmaster.  "What are you
doing here, anyway?"
"I'm working."
"Yes, I see you working.  Go on about your business and don't
bother me.  Don't you think I have anything else to do except to
watch you, in order to prevent your breaking up the performance?"
"You ought to thank me for keeping you busy," chuckled Teddy,
making a lively jump to get out of the way of the long lash that
snapped at his heels.
Perhaps there was method in Teddy Tucker's movements.  
He strolled out into the concourse, gazing up at the crowded
seats, winking and making wry faces at the people, as he moved
slowly along, causing them to laugh and shout flippant remarks 
This was exactly what he wanted them to do.  It gave Teddy an
opportunity to talk back, and many a keen-pointed shaft did he
hurl at the unwary who had been imprudent enough to try to make
sport of him.
While this impromptu act was going on the minds of the people
were so occupied that they forgot all about the storm.
The rain was now beating down on the big top in a deluge, and
despite the ringmaster's assurance that the canvas would not
leak, a fine spray was filling the tent like a thin fog, through
which the lights glowed in pale circles.
"Even the lamps have halos," Teddy informed the people.  "I had
one once, but the ringmaster borrowed it and forgot to return it.
But I don't care.  He needs a halo more than I do."
A howl greeted this sally.
Teddy was about to say something else, after the first wave of
laughter had swept over the audience, but no one heard him speak.
Another flash, more brilliant, more blinding than any that had
gone before it, lighted up the tent.  The big top seemed suddenly
to have been filled with fire.  Thin threads of it ran down
quarter and center pole; circles of it raced about the iron rings
used in various parts of the tent, then jumped into the rigging,
running up and down the iron braces and wire ropes used to brace
the apparatus.
The flash was accompanied by a report that was terrifying. 
At that instant a great ball of fire descended from the damp
top of the tent, dropping straight toward the concourse. 
Teddy Tucker chanced to be standing just beneath it.  He had
glanced up when the report came, to see if any damage had
been done aloft.
"Wow!" breathed Teddy.
Just then the ball burst only a few feet above his head,
scattering fire in all directions.
Teddy fell flat to the ground.
He was up almost at once.
"I'm all right!  How's the rest of the family?" he howled.
The rest of the family were too much concerned with what was
taking place in the big top to notice the Circus Boy's humor.
Then Teddy observed that the center pole was split from end
to end.  The lightning bolt had followed it from its peak to
the ground.  Several of the side poles had already given way,
and the lad saw the dome of the tent slowly settling.
"Hitch it!  Anchor it!" he bellowed.
The attendants were too frightened to give heed to his words.
Phil Forrest was coming down a rope, hand under hand, as rapidly
as he could travel.
"Snub the rope or you'll have the tent down on you!" he shouted.
Teddy darted forward, throwing himself upon the heavy rope that
held the dome in place.
At that instant the rope on which Phil Forrest was descending
gave way, and Phil came straight down.
He landed on Teddy Tucker's head and shoulders, knocking Teddy
flat on the ground, where the little Circus Boy lay still. 
Yet he had, with rare presence of mind, snubbed the heavy rope
around a tent stake, keeping the free end of the rope in hand,
and holding desperately to it.
Nor did Teddy release his grip on the rope, now that he had been
knocked unconscious.  He held it in place, the strands wound
firmly about his arm, though inch by inch he was slipping toward
the heavy tent stake.  Phil had received a severe shaking-up, 
but he was on his feet quickly, looking about to see on whom he
When he discovered that Teddy had been the victim, Phil groaned.
"I'm afraid I have finished him!"
Teddy had now been drawn along by the rope until his head was
against the tent stake.
"Quick!  Lend a hand here!" shouted Phil.
He wrenched the rope loose from Tucker's hands, taking a twist
about his own arms and holding on with all his might.
Several ring attendants came to their senses about that time and
rushed to his assistance.
"Take care of Teddy!" cried Phil.
The ringmaster turned Teddy over and looked into the lad's face. 
At that, Teddy opened his eyes and winked.  The ringmaster jerked
him to his feet and shook him vigorously.
This restored the boy to his normal condition.
"Hello, folks!" howled Teddy, turning a handspring, falling over
a ring curbing as he did so.
The people forgot their fear and greeted Teddy with 
wild applause.  The Circus Boy had saved a blow-down 
and perhaps many lives as well.
IN NEW QUARTERS
Though the center pole had been struck by lightning, repairs
were soon sufficiently advanced to enable the show to go on
and complete the performance.  The pole itself was
practically ruined.
Fortunately, the show had another one, and the wrecked pole was
left on the lot that night as worthless.
After the Roman races the people stood up in their seats and gave
three cheers for the boy who had saved many of them from perhaps
serious injury or death.
Teddy heard the cheer.  He was in his dressing tent changing 
his clothes, having thus far gotten on only his trousers 
and undershirt.
He could not restrain his curiosity, so trotting to the entrance
he inquired the cause of the commotion.
"They're cheering for you," a canvasman informed him.
Teddy needed no more.  Without an instant's hesitation he ran out
into the ring, where he stood smiling, bowing and throwing kisses
"Come and see us again!" yelled the Circus Boy.
"We will that!" answered a chorus of voices.
"I'll have the big hen lay another egg for you.  I--"  His voice
was drowned in the roar of laughter that followed this sally.
Already the attendants were ripping up the seats, loading them
into the wagons, with a rattle and bang.  Men were shouting,
horses neighing; here and there an animal uttered a hoarse-voiced
protest at something, it knew not what.
Circus animals often scent a change, perhaps more quickly than do
the people about them.
Performers and others, whose duties did not keep them on the lot,
were hurrying to get to the dock where the circus boats were
waiting, and where Mr. Sparling was attending to the loading.
Phil and Teddy were in no less haste.  Quickly getting their
trunks packed, they started off for the river.  The moon had come
out after the storm and the air was fresh and fragrant, though
underfoot the evidences of the storm were still present.
"Did I hurt you much when I fell on you tonight, Teddy?"
"You knocked the breath out of me.  But don't let a little thing
like that worry you.  I thought the tent had fallen on me, or at
least a center pole.  Lucky I was there, wasn't it?"
"You might have received a bump that you wouldn't have gotten
over right away."
"I might have done so."
"I saved your life, didn't I?"
"Perhaps you did.  I had only a few feet to drop, you know. 
I was ready to drop on all fours lightly when you happened
to get in the way--"
"When I happened to get in the way?"
"Yes.  Didn't you?"
"Well, I like that," growled Teddy indignantly.  "Here I run in
and save your life, willing to sacrifice my own for you and you
say when I 'happened to get in the way.'"
Phil laughed heartily.
"Of course, I appreciate your wonderful self-sacrifice.  It was
very kind of you to get in the way and let me fall on you. 
Nothing like having a soft place to fall, is there, old chap?"
Teddy uttered an unintelligible growl.
"That's right; insult me.  I'm only a clown and--and 
a life-saver--"
"And one of the best fellows a chap could have for his
friend, eh?  I was only joking, Teddy."
"I accept your apology.  My hand on it," answered 
Teddy condescendingly.  "Next time you can fall 
on the ground or any old place.  I don't care.  
I shan't try to catch you."
"If I remember correctly, you could not very well help yourself
in this instance.  You did not catch me.  I caught you--caught
you unawares.  There is Mr. Sparling and there are the boats. 
Don't they look fine, all lighted up inside, their signal lights
burning on the outside?"
"They look wet to me."
Thin wisps of smoke were curling lazily from the funnels of the
three boats, for the stokers had not yet started to get up steam.
Some hours would elapse before the fleet would be ready to begin
its journey down the big river.
"There goes the 'Little Nemo,'" cried Teddy.
The smaller of the three steamboats moved slowly out into the
stream, and there came to anchor to await the other boats.  
The "Fat Marie" was already alongside the long dock, but she now
moved up a little further to make room for her companion boat,
the "River Queen," which latter Phil had nicknamed the 
"Yellow Peril."
"Let's see, where do we stow our belongings, Phil?"
"On the 'Fat Marie.'"
"If that name don't sink her, nothing will," said Teddy, with a
broad grin.  "I hope the boat floats better than Fat Marie did
when she fell in the creek last season.  If not, we're lost. 
Let's go on board and find out where we are going to live."
"After we speak to Mr. Sparling.  Is there anything we can do to
help you, Mr. Sparling?" asked Phil, stepping up to the owner of
the show, who, hatless, coatless, his hair looking as if it had
not been combed in days, was giving orders in sharp, short
sentences, answering questions and shouting directions almost in
the same breath.
"Oh, is that you, Phil?"
"It is myself, sir," smiled the lad.  "How are you
getting along?"
"Much better than I had hoped.  You see the 'Little Nemo' is
already loaded.  The 'Fat Marie' is well loaded and the 'Queen'
is taking stuff on board at a two-forty gait."
"I see you haven't driven the bulls on yet," meaning 
the elephants.
The elephants were standing off beyond the docks, huge shadowy
figures, swaying silently in the faint light, for there was a
slight haze in the air that even the brilliant moonlight could
not wholly pierce.
"No; I thought it best to load the bulls and the ring stock 
later on.  The bulls might get frightened with all the unusual
noises around them.  After they become more used to this method 
of traveling they will be all right."
"What time do we pull out?"
"It will be three o'clock, I think.  Perhaps a little later 
"You mean earlier," suggested Teddy.
The showman turned on him sharply.
"Why, hello, Teddy.  Really, you are so small that I did not 
Teddy winced.
"I guess I'm some, even if I am little," protested the 
"You are right.  You are not only some, but _much._  
What's this I hear about trouble on the lot?  Some of the
men said they heard there had been an accident, but they
guessed it didn't amount to much."
"It was not very serious," said Phil.
"Oh, no; nothing of any consequence," jeered Teddy.  "I was
struck by lightning, that's all."
"Hit by balls of fire--and the big hen laid an egg."
"See here, what are you driving at--"
"And crushed, utterly crushed by my best friend, Phil Forrest. 
Now, what do you think of that?"
"Teddy, please hitch your tongue to the roof of your mouth for 
a moment.  Now, Phil, tell me what happened.  I get so dizzy when
Teddy is talking that I almost imagine I am going to be seasick."
"Pshaw!" growled Teddy.
"We did have a little trouble."
"Tell me about it."
"The storm came up while the aerial acts were on.  We all
shortened our acts at the direction of the ringmaster, and it
was well we did so.  We had not all gotten down when a bolt of
lightning struck the main center pole."
"You don't say!  Here, men, stow those canvas wagons forward!  
You must learn to trim the boat, giving her an even load 
all over!  Did the bolt do any damage?"
"Slivered the pole."
"Yes.  Not worth carrying off the lot."
"What else?"
"Some excitement--"
"No, but I think there would have been had it not been for my
friend, Teddy Tucker.  He amused the audience while things were
happening up above."
"Good for you, Teddy Tucker," said the showman, slapping the
Circus Boy on the back.
"Ouch!" howled Teddy.
"I was congratulating you, that's all," laughed Mr. Sparling.
"If it is all the same to you, please use a club when you
congratulate me.  I won't feel it so much."
Phil next went on to relate how Teddy had, by his quickness, made
fast the rope and probably saved the top from falling in on them,
and how he, Phil, had fallen on the boy and knocked him out.
Mr. Sparling surveyed the flushed face of Teddy approvingly.
"Thank you, Teddy," he said.  "I'll give you a day off to go
fishing, sometime, for that."
"I don't want to go fishing."
"Then you are the first showman I ever knew who did not. 
They are simply crazy over fishing.  You'll see every one
of them hanging over the rails in the early morning trying
to catch fish."
"I won't.  You'll see me asleep about that time, if you look in
the right place," answered Teddy very promptly.
"Teddy deserves your praise, Mr. Sparling."
"He does, and he has it.  I will show my appreciation more fully
when I get all this rush out of the way.  The loss of the center
pole doesn't amount to much, but the rest does."
"And the hen laid an egg," reiterated Teddy.
"Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you.  The big ostrich hen laid an egg
this evening."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes; Teddy found it in the hay behind the concert platform."
The showman's eyes twinkled.
"What were you doing back there?"
"Looking for a place to take a catnap between acts."
Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.
"There's only one Teddy in the whole wide world!"
"I hope not," added the boy quickly.
"Where is the egg--what did you do with it?"
"Got it in my bag here, want to see it?"
He handed the egg to Mr. Sparling who turned it over, glancing at
it curiously.
"Look out!  You'll drop it!"
"And what are you going to do with it, may I ask?"
"What, eat up my property?"
"Eggs belongs to the finder, and--"
"You mean eggs _belong_ to the finder," corrected Phil.
"Yes, I guess so.  Any way, so you say it.  I'm going to eat this
egg, even if it does give me indigestion all the rest of my life.
How do you cook ostrich eggs?"
"I never cooked any, my boy.  You will have to consult the cook
on that point.  Perhaps he may consent to cook it for you."
"I'll give you a slice off the white when it's cooked."
"Thank you.  You are welcome to the whole egg.  Better go up and
locate yourselves, boys."
"What number is our room, Mr. Sparling?" asked Phil.
"Number twenty-four, on the upper deck.  I have given you a nice,
roomy, light and airy cabin that I think will please you.  It is
one of the best on the ship and you should be very 
comfortable there."
"I am sure we shall be, and thank you very much," said Phil. 
"Come along, Teddy."
Together they made their way to the boat and through the crowded,
bustling lower deck, where the big canvas-covered wagons were
being warped into place, a sort of orderly confusion reigning
over everything, the scene lighted by lanterns swinging from
hooks all about the deck.
The lads found their cabin, and after lighting the lamp, uttered
exclamations of surprise.  Instead of the narrow berths they had
expected to see, there were white enameled iron bedsteads, a
washstand with the same neat finish, and several pictures on 
The cabin was a large one.  In the center of it stood a table on
which lay a large portfolio and inscribed in gold letters on the
outside they read the words, "For the Circus Boys."
The portfolio was filled with writing materials.
"Oh, isn't that fine?" exclaimed Phil.
"Yes, it's a fine egg.  I'm going to have the feast of my life
when I get it baked--"
"Teddy Tucker!"
"What do you think I am talking about?"
"I am not.  I am talking about this beautiful cabin that 
Mr. Sparling has fixed for us.  Look at it--look at 
this portfolio.  I am afraid you don't appreciate how 
good our employer is to us.  There is an easy chair for 
each of us, too.  Why, we ought to be very happy."
"I am happy.  So would you be if a hen had laid a five pound egg
for you," retorted Teddy.
"Hopeless, hopeless," groaned Phil.
Teddy, muttering to himself, carefully laid the egg away in his
trunk, first wrapping it up in an old silk ring shirt, then
locking the trunk and putting the key in his pocket.
The lad then made a personal and critical examination of the
room, tried the springs of the bed, nodded approvingly, sat down
in one of the easy chairs and put his feet on the table.
Phil promptly pushed the feet off.
"Here, what are you doing?"
"This is not the dressing room of a circus, Teddy.  This is
the living room of a couple of young gentlemen.  Let's not
forget that.  Let us try to keep our cabin looking nice and
shipshape, else Mr. Sparling will think we do not appreciate
his kindness."
"Say, Phil!"
"I'll tell you what we'll do!"
"I am listening."
"We'll have a spread up here all by ourselves, tomorrow night,
after the show.  We'll eat the egg.  I'll get the cook to boil it
all day tomorrow--does it take a day to boil an ostrich egg?"
"I should think it might take a month," laughed Phil.  "Yes; I'll
make a martyr of myself and help you eat the egg.  I shall never
have any peace until that egg is finally disposed of--"
"What's going on downstairs?" interrupted Teddy.
A commotion was heard out on the dock.  There was the tramping of
many feet, mingled with loud, angry shouts and sharp commands.
"It sounds to me as if something has been let loose," said Teddy
Tucker wisely.
Something had been "let loose."
With one accord the Circus Boys sprang up.  Rushing out into the
corridor they leaped down the after companionway four steps at 
CHAPTER VIII
JANUARY ON THE RAMPAGE
"What's the row?  What's the row?" bellowed Teddy, who, bolting
under a cage and, leaving his hat under the wagon, dashed out to
the dock, where their vessel was moored.
The two boys saw an object leaping into the air, performing
strange and grotesque antics.
"It's January!" yelled Teddy.  "Whoa, January!"
But January refused to "whoa." The donkey had objected to going
aboard the boat.  When the workmen tried to force him, he
protested vigorously, biting those in front and kicking those
"Teddy, get that fool donkey out of here or I'll throw him in the
river," bawled the owner of the show.
Perhaps January understood the threat.  At least he started for
Mr. Sparling, snorting.
The showman ducked under a canvas wagon and climbed up the
other side of it, giving his orders from the top of the wagon. 
He knew January.  He had had business dealings with the donkey
on other occasions.
"Get him out of here, I tell you!"
"Drive him in yourself," answered a groom.  "I wouldn't try it
for a present of the whole confounded show."
Up to this point those who had not left the dock willingly
January had assisted with his ever ready hoofs, and, by the 
time Teddy reached the scene the donkey had kicked every man off
and into the street, excepting the owner of the show himself.  
As already related, Mr. Sparling had seen fit to leave in haste
when January directed his attention to him.
"Whoa, January!" commanded Teddy in a soothing tone.
The donkey, at sound of the Circus Boy's voice, reared and came
down facing Teddy.
"Come here, you beast.  Don't you know you're going to have a
ride on the river?  You don't know enough to know when you are
well off.  Come, Jany, Jany, Jany.  Wow!"
January had responded with a rush.  Teddy stepped aside just in
time to save himself from being bowled over.  But as the donkey
ran by him the boy threw both arms about the animal's neck.
Then began the liveliest scrimmage that the spectators had 
ever witnessed.  Kicking and bucking, the donkey raced from 
side to side, varying his performance now and then by making 
a dive toward the crowd, which quickly gave gangway as the 
people sought for safety.
"Whoa, January!  I--I'll break your neck for this, hang you!  
Some other donkey has taught you these tricks.  You never knew
anything about them way back in Edmeston.  You--"
Teddy was slapped against the side of the "Fat Marie."
By this time Tucker's temper was beginning to rise.  His first
inclination was to hit the donkey on the nose with his free hand,
but he caught himself in time.  He was too fond of animals, even
donkeys, to strike one on the head.  It was a rule too, in the
Sparling shows, that any man who so far forgot himself as to
strike a horse over the head closed with the show then and there.
Now Teddy thought of a new plan.  He watched his opportunity. 
Suddenly, Teddy put his plan into operation.
It must be remembered that the Circus Boy was strong and agile,
and that his work in the ring had given him added quickness.
He therefore applied the trick he had thought of; then something
happened to January.  The donkey struck the planking of the pier
flat on his back, his feet beating the air viciously.
"Whoa, January!"
Teddy flopped the animal on its side, then calmly sat down on the
donkey's head.  He had thrown the beast as prettily as ever had a
wrestler an adversary.
The Circus Boy began mopping the perspiration from his brow.
"Warm, isn't it?" he said, tilting his eyes up to where
Mr. Sparling had been watching the proceedings from the
top of a wagon.
"You certainly look the part.  Now, what are you going to do with
that fool donkey?"
"I'm going to sit on his head until I get ready to get up.  
Then, if somebody will lend me a whip, I'll tan his jacket 
to my own taste."
January uttered a loud bray.
"Well, do something," shouted a canvasman.  "We can't wait all
night on the gait of that donkey."
"All right; if any of you fellows think you know the inside
workings of a donkey's mind better than I do, just come and
lead this angelic creature on board the 'Fat Marie.'"
"No, no; we don't know anything about donkeys," came a chorus 
of voices.  "We don't want to know anything about 
donkeys, either."
"Somebody bring me a bridle, then.  Don't be afraid of him, he
is as gentle as a lamb.  You wouldn't hurt a fly, would you,
dear January?"
January elevated both hind feet, narrowly missing the groom who
had brought the bridle.
After some difficulty the bystanders succeeded in getting the bit
between his teeth and the bridle over his head.
"Now, take tight hold of the bridle and lead him.  I'll use
persuasive measures at the other end," directed Teddy.
January fairly hurled himself forward, jerking the groom off his
feet at once.  But the man hung on stubbornly.
A moment more, and Teddy had fastened a firm grip on January's
tail, not appearing to be in the least afraid of the flying hoofs
that were beating a tattoo in the air.
How Teddy did twist that tail!  Finally January, in sheer
desperation, was forced to give ground.  One leap carried him
over the gangplank and into the boat.  Once within, there was
a repetition of the scenes enacted on the dock, except that
this time it was the groom who was getting the worst of it,
while Teddy sat on the gangway, howling with delight.
At last the donkey was subdued and led to the place where he was
to spend the night.  But they had to rope him in to prevent his
kicking the other stock through the side of the boat.
Fat Marie herself came waddling along about this time, blowing
like a miniature steam engine.
"Gangway!  Gangway!" shrieked Marie, in a high-pitched,
shrill voice.
Teddy was nearly crowded off the gangplank.
"See here, where are you going?  Don't you know there's a crazy
donkey in there?"
"Going to my cabin to seek sweet repose," squeaked Marie.
"What!  Are you going to live on this boat?"
"That's what.  If I can get up to the sky parlor where my
'boodwah' is.  Come, help me up the stairs; that's a 
good boy, Teddy."
"I helped you once.  That was enough for me.  Say, Marie?"
"What is it, my lad?"
"If the boat should be wrecked in one of the terrible storms
that sweep this raging river you had better grab the anchor the
first thing."
"Why grab the anchor?"
"You'll sink quicker," laughed the Circus Boy, darting out to the
dock and leaning against a wagon wheel.
By this time Mr. Sparling had descended from his haven of safety,
and began issuing orders again.
"Get the bulls in now.  No more nonsense.  Teddy, you did a good
job, but it took you a long time to do it."
"Yes, sir.  Do you think anybody else could have done
it quicker?"
"I know they could not.  Where is Phil?"
"Guess he went back to his cabin after I finished off January. 
Going to load the elephants, did you say?"
"Aren't you afraid they will sink the boat?"
"Don't bother us now.  You know we did not bother you when you
were trying to get your livestock in."
"I noticed that you didn't," answered Teddy, humorously, which
remark brought a shout of laughter from everyone within hearing
of his voice.
Mr. Kennedy, the elephant-trainer, now ranged his charges in
line, with Jupiter, the ill-tempered member of the herd, in
the lead.  He wanted to get Jupiter in ahead, knowing that the
others would follow willingly enough after him.  Emperor, the
great beast that had such a warm regard for Phil, was third in
"Everybody keep away and don't make a racket or they will
get nervous.  I expect to have a little trouble with those
bulls the first time.  After that they will go one board as
meek as a flock of spring mutton," declared Kennedy.  
Teddy was close at hand.  If there was any prospect of
trouble or excitement he wanted to be near enough not to
miss a single feature of it.
Mr. Kennedy gave the command for attention.
Each of the elephants to the rear of Jupiter stretched forth a
trunk and grasped the tail of the elephant directly in front 
"Forward, march!"
"Hip!  Hip!" began Teddy.
"That will do, young man," warned Mr. Sparling.
The line moved slowly forward, Jupiter offering no objection to
going where he was ordered.
Just as he reached the gangplank, however, Jupiter halted.
The elephant's trunk curled upward and a mighty trumpeting sent
the villagers scurrying for places of safety.
Mr. Kennedy prodded the elephant with the sharp point of
his hook.  The act forced Jupiter to place one foot on the
gang plank, throwing his weight upon the planking to test
its stability.  He felt it give ever so little beneath his
feet, and quickly withdrew the foot.
Once more the prod was brought into use.  Jupiter waxed angry. 
With a great cough, he curled his trunk about the heavy
gangplank, wrenching it free from its resting place.
Raising the planking high above his head he hurled it into
"Ladies and gentlemen," announced Teddy Tucker, in a loud voice,
"you have witnessed a most satisfying, edifying, gratifying,
ennobling, superb and sublime spectacular prelude, as our press
agent would say.  But, if you know what's good for you, you will
now hasten to the high places, for there's going to be something
doing around here in about a minute."
Teddy was no false prophet in this instance.
Strutting up to the angry Jupiter the Circus Boy slapped him
playfully on the trunk.
"You bad boy.  I thought January was the limit, but I have
changed my mind.  You--"
Suddenly Jupiter's trunk curled about the lad.  The angry
elephant raised the boy far above his head and hurled him up
into the air as he had done with the gangway, except that he
threw Teddy in another direction.
PHIL FORREST TO THE RESCUE
"Catch Teddy!  Catch him!" shouted Mr. Sparling.
"The boy has gone into the river!" cried half a dozen voices
"No; the bull threw him toward the boat.  He may have shot right
on over and into the water or he may still be on the upper deck,"
answered Mr. Kennedy, as he plied his prod industriously,
shouting his orders to the other elephants that already were
showing signs of restlessness.
By this time a boat had been launched from the dock, and half a
dozen men had gone in search of the lost gangway that was now
floating slowly down the river some distance away.
"Ahoy, boat!" bellowed Mr. Sparling.  "Row around to the other
side and see if Tucker is in the river."
At the same time the owner of the show was running toward 
the "Marie."  He plunged into the mass of equipment on 
the lower deck, lost his footing and went rolling under a 
lion's cage.  He was on his feet and bounding up the stairs
almost in the next second.
Just as he reached the upper deck he met Phil Forrest emerging
from the cabin, attracted by the uproar.
"What's the matter, sir?"
"Teddy," answered the showman shortly.
"Oh, that boy again!  What is it?"
"Jupiter tossed him."
"Where is he?"
"Maybe in the river.  Help me look for him up here.  They are
searching for him on the other side of the boat."
Phil started on a run along one side of the deck, Mr. Sparling
taking the other side.
"Here he is.  Ahoy, boat!  Go and get the gangway.  I have the
boy here," called Mr. Sparling.
Phil hurried over to where Mr. Sparling was bending over Teddy,
who lay doubled up against the pilot house.
"Is he hurt?"
"I don't know.  I'll tell you when I get him untangled.  He seems
to be standing on his head.  Lucky if his neck isn't broken."
"Teddy's neck is too tough to be easily broken.  I think he is
merely stunned," said Phil.
The showman straightened the Circus Boy out, and Teddy suddenly
sat up, rubbing his head and neck gingerly.
"Did January kick me?" he demanded wonderingly.
"No; Jupiter threw you up here.  Are you hurt?"
"I'm worse than that.  I'm like the carpenter who swallowed a 
tape measure.  I'm dying by inches."
Mr. Sparling uttered an impatient exclamation.
"Take care of him, Phil.  I must get back.  There is trouble 
down there."
The showman hurried away, and Phil saw at once that his companion
had sustained a severe shock, but nothing of a serious nature.
"You're all right, Teddy.  What is the trouble down there?"
Teddy, still rubbing himself, explained what had happened.
Just then there came a call from below.
"Can you come down here?"
"Of course.  What is it?"
"Mr. Sparling wants you."
"I'll be right there."
The lad, instead of taking the time to go down the companionway,
swung over the side of the boat and dropped lightly to the wharf.
Such is the advantage of being a showman.
"Mr. Kennedy is having trouble with the bulls, Phil," explained
Mr. Sparling.
"Yes; so Teddy told me."
"He thinks you may be able to suggest some way out of 
our difficulty.  Mr. Kennedy has great confidence in 
your resourcefulness."
"What have you done thus far?"
Mr. Sparling explained briefly, Phil giving close attention.
"Have they found the gangplank yet?"
"Yes; they are towing it up to the dock now."
Phil waited until they had hauled the gangway up and put it
"Will you try her, so that I can see how she works, Mr. Kennedy?"
asked the lad after the gangway had been chained down so securely
that the elephant would have difficulty in ripping it loose.
Jupiter was just as stubborn as he had been before.  
Phil observed three or four showmen standing near him 
on the other side.
"Please step back, all of you," he said.  "Mr. Sparling, will
you see that no one comes near the elephants?  I'll see what I
can do.  Back him off, Mr. Kennedy."
This done, Phil stepped back along the line until he came to the
big elephant Emperor.
"Good old Emperor," cried the Circus Boy soothingly.  "Here's a
lump of sugar."
Emperor tucked the sugar far back in his pink mouth.  Then Phil,
taking hold of the trunk, petted it affectionately, next tucking
it under his arm.
"Come along, old fellow.  You need not be afraid," he said,
starting toward the ship, with Emperor following meekly 
and obediently.  At the gangway he stopped and examined the
passageway carefully.
"Are you sure it is strong enough to support them, Mr. Kennedy?"
"Yes, it will hold two at once."
"Very well."
Once more Phil took hold of the trunk and led Emperor across and
into the boat, the elephant making no protest; though, knowing
him as he did, Phil saw that the animal was timid.  The beast's
confidence in the little Circus Boy overcame his fears, however.
Emperor got another lump of sugar as the result of his obedience.
"See if Jupiter will follow," called Phil.
Jupiter would not.
Observing this, Phil swung Emperor around and led him to
"What are you going to do?" asked Mr. Sparling.
"Perhaps nothing at all.  If Mr. Kennedy failed I do not see how
I shall be able to accomplish anything.  Get Jupiter up to the
gangway, please."
This was done.
"When I say the word, you give Jupiter the hook good and hard 
and quick.  I'll promise you that something will happen.  
See here; didn't I tell you fellows to keep away from 
those elephants?" demanded the boy, observing two figures
edging up toward Emperor.
"Clear the dock!" roared Mr. Sparling.
A sudden thought seemed to strike Phil.  He left Emperor and
stepped around to the other side of the animal walking about and
peering into the faces of the people who now were standing back
at a respectful distance.  Most of them proved to be villagers,
with a few circus people sprinkled among them.
"Did you notice who those two men were who were standing on the
other side, Mr. Sparling?" he asked in a low tone.
"I wanted to know."
"Why do you ask that question?"
"Because I am suspicious of them, that's all."
Making sure that the dock was clear, Phil led Emperor up to
Jupiter, placing the former's head against the hips of the
stubborn elephant.
"Now!" he shouted, at the same time giving Emperor the signal
The big elephant threw all his great strength into a 
forward movement.  Jupiter, taken off his guard, plunged 
across the gangplank, with Emperor pushing him along, the former
trumpeting wildly in his fear and rage.  Another minute, and
Jupiter was landed safely on the lower deck of the "Fat Marie."
ALL ABOARD FOR THE GULF!
Day was breaking.
Clouds of dense black smoke were rolling from the funnels 
of the Sparling fleet, while steam was hissing from the
overburdened safety valves.
The show was ready for its start down the river.  
The "Little Nemo" had already hoisted anchor and 
was drifting with the current awaiting the signal 
to start her engines.
"All ashore that's going," sang a voice on each of 
the two boats lying at the dock.
The boats' whistles broke out in three deafening, 
prolonged blasts each.
"Cast off!" bellowed the pilots.
Hawsers were hauled in and the distance between the dock and
the boats slowly widened.
"We're off," shouted Teddy, waving his hat joyously.
"We will be more so, unless we get some sleep," warned Phil.  
"I would suggest that you and I turn in for a few hours.  We both
need a beauty sleep."
"I don't," answered Teddy promptly.
"Think not?"
"No, sir.  I'm handsome enough as it is.  Even the fool 
donkey stands aghast when he comes face to face with my
surpassing beauty."
"How about the elephants?" twinkled Phil.
"Elephants don't count, at least not after twelve o'clock 
"I move that we turn in just the same.  We will sleep until
sometime before noon, then we can get up and enjoy the ride.  
I understand we shall not reach the next stand until sometime 
this evening.  This is going to be a great trip, Teddy."
"It has been," nodded the other boy.  "Where do we show first?"
"Milroy, I believe is the name of the place.  I never heard of 
"And probably you never will want to again, after you have 
been there.  That is the case with most of these little 
tank towns.  A fellow wonders where all the people come 
from who go to the show."
The lads went to their cabin and were soon sound asleep.  
They realized how tired they were when first they got into bed.
"This is great!" muttered Phil, as, lying in his bed, he felt the
cool air drifting in over him.
When they awakened the sun was at its zenith.
Phil consulted his watch.
"Wake up, Teddy.  It is twelve o'clock."
Teddy sleepily dragged himself from his bed, pulled himself
wearily to the window and threw open the blinds.
"Where are we?" asked Phil.
"Ask the pilot," grumbled Teddy.  "How do you suppose I know? 
This water looks like a big mud puddle.  I'm hungry; aren't you?"
"Yes, I am.  What are we going to do for breakfast?  I never
thought to bring along a lunch."
"I've got an egg," chuckled Teddy.
"You are welcome to it.  I don't care for any, thank you."
Just then there came a rap on their door.
Phil opened it and looked out.
"Mr. Sparling wishes to know if you are ready for breakfast?"
asked the man, whom they recognized as the showman's 
personal servant.
"Am I ready for breakfast?" shouted Teddy.  "Tell Mr. Sparling
he ought to know better than to ask a question like that. 
What's this, a joke?  We can't get any breakfast on this 
"Mr. Sparling directs me to ask you to join him in his cabin for
breakfast in ten minutes."
"Thank you.  Tell him we shall be on hand," smiled Phil.
"I hope it isn't a joke," grumbled Teddy, pulling on
his trousers.
"Now, isn't that fine of Mr. Sparling, old fellow?" asked Phil,
with glowing eyes.
"Tell you better after I sample the breakfast.  I'm suspicious."
"You need not be.  Mr. Sparling would not be so unkind as to
invite us to eat breakfast with him unless he had some breakfast
to offer us."
"Well, I hope it's straight," muttered the doubting Teddy.  A few
minutes later the lads presented themselves at the door of the
owner's cabin.
"Good morning, boys; how did you sleep last night?" he greeted
them, with a cordial smile and a handshake for each.
"I was dead to the world," answered Teddy, with his customary
bluntness of speech.
"I guess we all were," smiled the showman.  "All day and all
night was rather trying, but we shall not have the same trouble
after this; at least not after the next stand.  Everything should
be in excellent working order after Monday.  Sit down and have
some breakfast with me."
An appetizing meal had been spread in the cabin.  Teddy surveyed
the table with wistful eyes.
"I did not know you were going to serve meals on board,"
"I am not, generally speaking.  This is different.  I would not
ask our people to go all day without anything to eat.  I have had
a cold meal prepared in the main cabin, with hot coffee to wash
it down.  I thought you boys might like to join me here for a
real meal.  Having a real meal is one of the privileges of the
owner of the show, you know," replied Mr. Sparling, with a hearty
laugh, in which the boys joined.
"I was going to eat my egg," said Teddy humorously.
"It is very kind of you, Mr. Sparling," said Phil.  "We were just
wondering what we should do for breakfast, and Teddy, as he has
just told you, was thinking of eating the ostrich egg."
"I presume so," replied Phil, with a short laugh.
"It would make a fellow strong," declared Teddy in defense of
"I agree with you, my boy.  I ate a piece of one once, and it was
quite the strongest thing I ever tackled."
"That's a joke.  Ha, ha!" replied Teddy, with serious face.
The lads were, by this time, on such terms of intimacy with their
employer that they felt free to talk with him as they would to
each other.  At least Phil did, and in all probability Tucker
would have done so at any rate.
"Do we unload tonight, Mr. Sparling?" questioned Phil.
"No, I think not.  Tomorrow morning will be time enough.  I never
like to do any more work on Sunday than is absolutely necessary."
Phil nodded his approval.
"I believe in observing the day, and besides, our people need
the rest and the relaxation.  That reminds me of what I wanted
to say.  You did a very clever piece of work last night, both
Teddy glanced up in surprise.
"Yes; I got a roughhouse from the donkey and the elephant. 
I'm a sort of a good thing all around.  When the fool donkey
gets through wiping up a whole county with me, the elephant
takes a hand--a trunk, I mean--and lands me high and dry on
the roof of the 'Fat Marie.'"
"You mean the deck," corrected Phil.
"I don't know what you call it, but it was hard enough when I
struck it.  Next time I'm going to have a net spread to catch me.
I'll bet I would have made a hit in the ring with that donkey
wrestling bout.  I guess I will try it on some of these times,
providing I can get the donkey to work the way he did 
last night."
"As I said before, there is something I want to ask you, Phil,"
repeated the showman.
"Did it not strike you that Jupiter acted very peculiarly
last night?"
"Yes.  I did not see the first of it, but I saw enough."
"What did you think about it?"
"I did not know what to think."
The showman shot a keen glance at the Circus Boy's thoughtful,
serious face.
"What do you think today?"
"That it was perfectly natural for Jupiter to balk going across
the gangplank."
"How about him having hurled Teddy to the deck of the
'Fat Marie'?"
"That is different."
"Did it arouse any suspicions in your mind, my boy?"
Phil reflected for a moment, toying absently with his fork.
"Candidly, it did, Mr. Sparling.  It struck me as peculiar at
the time, and, as I thought it over, I became more and more
convinced that there was some reason for Jupiter's action
beyond what we saw."
The showman nodded, as if Phil's suggestion agreed with his
"What do you think happened?" he asked.
"What do you think?"
"I will confess that I don't know, Phil.  You had some reason
for driving everyone away from the bulls there on the dock,
did you not?"
"Yes, I did not want anyone to bother them while we were trying
to get them on board."
"I understand," said Mr. Sparling, with a nod.
"Did you notice who was there on the dock at the time,
Mr. Sparling?"
"No, not particularly."
"Was it some of the show people?"
"I am unable to say.  I saw you drive two men off in particular,
but I did not look at them closely.  Did you know them?"
"Perhaps.  They got away rather too quickly for me to make sure."
"Who do you think they were?"
Phil did not answer at once.
"Come, who were they, Phil?"
"I don't know, Mr. Sparling."
"I did not mean it exactly that way.  You think you recognized
them, and as I said before, I want to know who you think the
"I would rather not say, Mr. Sparling," answered the Circus Boy,
looking his employer squarely in the eye.
"It is your duty to tell me."
"Not unless I am sure.  It would be unjust to do so, and I know
you would not wish to force me to be unjust."
"You are a queer boy, Phil Forrest," said the showman, gazing at
the lad intently.
"I wish I knew who I thought they were, if they had anything to
do with my aerial flight last night," growled Teddy.  "They would
have reason to think a Kansas cyclone had struck them."
No one paid any attention to Teddy's remark.
"I will tell you what I think, however, Mr. Sparling," 
continued Phil.
"That's what I am trying to get you to do."
"I think some person with evil intent did something to Jupiter 
to anger him, thus causing him to turn on Teddy.  And it is my
opinion that if you will examine the animal you will find the
evidences on the animal himself," declared the Circus Boy boldly.
Mr. Sparling uttered an angry exclamation.
Teddy, who had tilted back in his chair as he listened to the
conversation, went crashing to the floor, overturning table,
dishes and all.
That broke up the conference of the morning.
EGG, EGG, WHO'S GOT THE EGG?
"I've lost my egg!  I've lost my egg!"
Teddy Tucker's shrill voice was heard from one end to the other
of the "Fat Marie."  An hour had elapsed since his mishap in 
Mr. Sparling's cabin, during which time the lads had been sitting
on the after deck of the boat.
Phil had been very thoughtful.  Perhaps he had not done right in
keeping his real suspicions from Mr. Sparling.  Yet he was firm
in his purpose not to say who he thought the men were.  He was
not at all certain, in his own mind, that his eyes had not
deceived him.
There could be no doubt, however, that some person or persons
had pricked Jupiter on a tender part of his anatomy just as
Teddy Tucker was patting the trunk of the great beast.
Teddy had gone to his cabin for a moment, and no sooner had he
opened the door than he discovered that all was not as it should
"What's this?  What's all this fuss about?" questioned Phil.
"My egg!  My egg!"
"What about your egg?"
"It's gone, it's gone!"
"But I thought you locked it in your trunk?"
"That's what I did."
"Then how can it be gone?"
"It is, I tell you.  Come and see, if you don't believe me."
"Of course I believe you, but I do not see how it would be
possible for your egg to be taken when it was locked in your
trunk," objected Phil.
Teddy grasped his companion by the arm and rushed him to
"There, look!" exclaimed Teddy, pushing Phil into the room.
Teddy's trunk was open, most of its contents lying in a confused
heap on the cabin floor.
Phil's face grew serious.
"Now, let's understand this.  Was your trunk in that condition
when you came in here a little while ago?"
"Are you sure?"
"Well, some of the stuff was sticking out, but the cover
"The trunk was unlocked?"
"Sure it was."
"You are positive that you locked it?"
"I know it was locked."
"Is anything missing--have you looked to make sure?"
"I tell you my egg has been taken."
"I know.  Has anything else been taken?"
"I was so excited that I didn't look."
"Then, do so now."
Teddy dropped down beside his trunk, and began going over his
belongings, most of which were lying heaped on the floor.  
He examined everything closely.
"How about it?"
"I--I guess it is all here--but my egg is not, Phil."
"So I heard you say before."
"Where is it--where is it?"
"How do you suppose I know?  You are lucky that nothing else
was taken.  Is the lock broken?"
"No.  Somebody had a key."
"Almost any key made for an ordinary trunk will fit these 
steamer trunks."  Phil proved this by selecting and trying 
three keys on his own key ring, each of which locked and 
unlooked Teddy's steamer trunk with ease.
"I'll bet you took my egg for a joke."
"Teddy Tucker, how can you say so," demanded Phil indignantly. 
"Did I ever do a thing like that?"
"No, I guess you didn't," admitted the boy.  "But it's gone."
"It is evident that we have a thief on board.  Mr. Sparling must
be informed of this at once," decided Phil firmly.  "You remain
here and I will go and fetch him."
In a few moments the Circus Boy returned with Mr. Sparling.  
The showman made a careful examination of the room and the trunk
on his own account.  His face was flushed and angry.
He went over the same ground with his questions that Phil already
"Do you suspect anyone, Phil?"
"I do not.  Whom should I suspect?  Nothing like this has
ever happened in the Sparling show since I have been
connected with it."
"You are right.  It won't be healthful for the man who is
responsible for this, if I catch him," growled the showman. 
"Somebody must be unusually fond of ostrich eggs to go to this
length for one.  If anyone in this show chances to dine on
ostrich egg in the next twenty-four hours we shall know whom to
accuse of the theft."
"I do not think you will get the opportunity," said Phil, with a
peculiar smile.
"What do you mean by that remark?"
"That it was not taken because the thief wanted to eat it.  
He would not be foolish enough to do that."
"Probably to get even with Teddy."
Mr. Sparling eyed him sternly.
"You mean somebody had a grudge against Teddy?"
Phil nodded.
"I do not know."
"Teddy, who is it in this show who has a grudge against you?"
Teddy pondered.
"I don't know of anybody unless it's January," he made
solemn reply.
"The fool donkey?  Bah!"
"I guess the donkey did not unlock your trunk and steal your egg,
Teddy," answered Phil, a half smile curling his lips.
"I am not going to ask you again whom you suspect.  I take it for
granted that you will keep your eyes open from now on."
"I certainly shall, Mr. Sparling."
"If you are unable to find out who is responsible for certain
things I am sure there is no use in my trying to do so."
"I do not know about that, Sir.  I shall try.  If I find out
anything worthwhile I shall come to you and tell you."
"I shall expect you to do so.  And, Teddy!"
"You are to say nothing of this occurrence to anyone on the boat.
Do not mention that your precious egg has been lost or stolen,
nor appear as if anything out of the ordinary had occurred."
Teddy nodded his understanding.
Mr. Sparling understood his boys better than they knew.  He was
confident that Phil Forrest had a shrewd idea as to who had
aroused the anger of the elephant, Jupiter, as well as to the
identity of the person who had stolen the egg from 
Teddy Tucker's trunk.
The Circus Boy, however, kept his own counsel.
He made a trip down to the lower deck and had a long conversation
with Mr. Kennedy, the elephant trainer, while Teddy Tucker moped
in his cabin, mourning over the loss of his egg.
The show reached Milroy shortly before dark that evening, after
a most delightful trip down the river.  The horse tents were
unloaded and pitched on the circus lot and the stock stabled in
them so the animals could get their rest and food.
Some of the show people strolled out through the little town,
while others remained on board the boat and went to bed.  
All hands slept aboard that night.  Bright and early, on the
following morning, the boats were unloaded and the tents pitched,
the men working much better for their day on the river.
Everyone appeared to be in high good humor and the wisdom of 
Mr. Sparling's methods was apparent.  The tents went up more
quickly that morning than at any time that season.
Breakfast under the cook tent was a jolly meal.  Teddy had nearly
forgotten the loss of the ostrich egg, but Phil Forrest had not.
Phil, while not appearing to do so, was watching certain persons
in the dressing tent, among them being Diaz, the Spanish clown.
During the dressing hour before the afternoon performance the
clown had his trunk open to get out some costumes which were
at the bottom, beneath the lower tray.
Phil's trunk, it will be remembered, was close by that 
of the clown's.  The Circus Boy took advantage of the
opportunity to peep into the open trunk while Diaz was
rummaging over its contents.  So absorbed did Phil become
in his own investigation that he forgot for the moment
that the owner of the trunk might resent such curiosity.
All at once Phil glanced down at the clown.  He found the
dark eyes of Diaz fixed upon him, and the lad flushed in
spite of himself.
Diaz slowly rose to his feet.  Thrusting his face close to that
of the lad he peered into the boy's face.
"What you want?"
"Nothing, thank you."
"You look for something in the trunk of Diaz, eh?"
"What for you look?"
"Maybe I was looking for an egg.  Maybe I thought the clown 
Diaz carried a supply of freshly laid eggs in his dressing-room
trunk," said Phil in a tone too low for the others to catch, all
the time holding the eyes of the clown in a steady gaze.
The eyes of the clown expressed surprise, but there was so much
grease paint and powder on his face that the boy could not tell
whether the fellow had flushed or not.
That Diaz was angry, however, was clear.
"What you mean?" demanded the clown, with a threatening gesture.
"If you do not know, I don't believe I care to explain just now."
"What you mean?" repeated the clown, his voice rising to a 
higher pitch.  "You--you think I a thief?"
"If I thought so I might be too courteous to say so," was the 
calm retort.  "What makes you imagine that I think you a thief? 
You must have some reason--you must believe there is some truth
in your self-accusation, or you would not be so quick to 
"Remember, I have not accused you of anything.  You have 
accused yourself."
Perhaps there was method in Phil's nagging--perhaps he was
trying to goad the Spaniard into an admission that could be
used against him.  If that were his purpose he had only
partly succeeded.
Diaz, who had closed the cover of his trunk with a bang, now
sprang to the trunk again, jerking up the cover with such force
as to nearly wrench it from its hinges.
Two trays came out and were hurled to the ground as the owner
dived deeper and deeper into the chest.
"What's the matter?  Have you gone crazy?" questioned Phil,
laughing in spite of himself.  "Come on, now; don't lose
your temper.  If you will stop to consider, you will recall
that I have said nothing at which you might possibly 
take offence."
To this the clown made no reply.
All at once he straightened up with a snarl that reminded Phil of
the cough of the tiger out in the menagerie as the beast struck
viciously at its keeper when the latter chanced to step too close
to the bars of the cage.
Diaz stood all a-quiver.
"This looks like trouble of some sort," muttered Phil Forrest. 
"But I don't quite understand what he could have been hunting for
in the trunk."
Phil's question was answered a few seconds later.
>From the folds of the clown's costume his hand suddenly
shot upward.  The hand held a knife.  The hand shook from
rage as the knife was brandished aloft.
"Hello, so that's the game, is it?"
The Circus Boy stood his ground unflinchingly.  He did not appear
to be disturbed in the least, though his situation at that moment
was a critical one.
"Diaz!  Diaz!  Drop that knife!" ordered Phil sternly.
Instead of obeying the command the clown leaped upon him, or upon
the spot where Phil had been standing a second before.  The lad
had sprung back far enough so that the descending knife cut only
the empty air.
Again the knife flashed up.  Just as it was being raised, the boy
leaped again.  This time he sprang toward the enraged clown,
rather than away from him.
Ere the knife could be brought down, Phil gripped the wrist
holding the weapon, giving the wrist a quick, sharp twist that
brought a roar of pain from Diaz.
The knife dropped to the ground.  Phil calmly stooped and picked
it up, while the clown was nursing his wrist and groaning.
Several performers, realizing that something out of the ordinary
was going on in that corner of the tent, hurried over.
"What's the matter here?"
"Diaz was showing me his knife.  It's a beauty, isn't it?"
answered Phil, with a pleasant smile.  "I think, however, it is
a little too pretty for a circus.  Were I in your place, Diaz,
I should keep it in my trunk else someone may steal it."
The lad coolly raised the lid of the trunk, dropping the
knife in.  The others, not noting that the clown was hurt,
and that his wrist had been twisted by the Circus Boy almost
to the breaking point, turned back to their own corners and
continued their labors preparatory to entering the ring.
"Mr. Diaz," said Phil in a low voice, bending over the clown,
"your temper is going to get you into serious trouble one of 
these fine days.  I am sorry I had to hurt you.  But let me tell
you one thing.  If you attack me again I shall be compelled to
give you the worst licking you ever had in your life.  Put that 
in one of your fool caps that you throw around the arena, so you
won't forget it.  Behave yourself and you will find that I am a
pretty good friend."
TRYING OUT A NEW ACT
"Well, Dimples, I hope you and I do not make sad exhibitions of
ourselves this evening."
"I hope not, Phil.  I am sure you will not, but I am not so sure
The afternoon performance had passed off without incident, save
that the performers had given a much better show than usual. 
Everyone felt fresh and strong after his Sunday rest.
It was now evening.  The band was playing its loudest, the clowns
were fast and furious in their fun, and the animals out in the
menagerie tent were doing their part toward raising a din that
might have been heard at least half a mile away.
Phil Forrest had already been in for his trapeze act, and
after changing his costume had come out again for the
bareback riding number, to which he always looked forward
with pleasurable anticipation.
At the same time Little Dimples, the star female bareback rider,
had come up and joined him and the two fell to talking, as they
always did whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Long ago the circus woman had constituted herself the "mother of
the Circus Boys," as she expressed it.  She always insisted on
doing their sewing for them, helped them to plan their costumes
and gave them friendly advice on all occasions.
The act which they were entering the ring to perform on this
particular evening was a new one.  The two had been practicing it
since the beginning of the season--practicing in secret that they
might put it on as a surprise to Mr. Sparling.
This was what is known as a "brother and sister act."  That is,
the strong man and woman proposed to perform on the back of the
same horse, and at the same time.
The brother and sister act was not a new act by any means,
but they had added ideas of their own to it until it had
become novel.  They had essayed some daring and sensational
features which were sure to create a sensation with any
audience before which the act was performed.
"It is a small town," said Dimples.  "We don't care if we do fall
off, do we, Phil, my boy?"
"We most certainly do care.  At least, _I_ do.  Where's your
professional pride, Dimples?" demanded Phil, with an
indulgent smile.
"In my feet, I guess," answered the woman, with a merry laugh. 
"I am making my living with my feet.  Were they not so sure,
enabling me to stand on the slippery back of a ring horse, 
I should not be drawing the fine salary that I now have.  
Neither would you."
"Here we are at the ring," interrupted Phil.  "The audience is
applauding us before we begin.  They must be expecting something
out of the ordinary."
As a matter of fact, the two riders made a very pleasing
appearance as they entered the ring.  Phil, slender, athletic,
manly; Dimples exquisitely dainty, looking almost as fragile
as a piece of Dresden china, they were a pair to attract
attention anywhere.
The spectators did not even dream that Little Dimples was a
married woman, with a son almost as old as Phil Forrest himself.
They kicked off their slippers, chalked their feet, then Phil
assisted his companion to the back of the horse.
The band struck up a lively tune, the ringmaster cracked
his whip, and Phil leaped to the back of the ring horse
beside Dimples.
"We are off," smiled the lad.
"I hope not," laughed the woman happily.
Further conversation for the moment was interrupted, for the 
time had arrived to begin their work in earnest.  The two threw
themselves into a series of graceful positions, neither very
difficult nor very dangerous, but to Mr. Sparling, who was
watching their performance from a seat directly opposite to them,
their work was more attractive than anything of the kind he ever
The next time they started in, after the brief intermission,
Phil and Dimples varied their performance by leaping from the
ring horse, then, taking a running start, jumping to the back
of the galloping animal.  Only once did Phil miss, and Dimples
She greeted his failure with a merry laugh that goaded the lad to
renewed efforts.
"Have you forgotten how to jump?" teased Dimples.
"I'll show you whether I have or not.  Keep him up close to the
ring curb and stand back as far as you can."
"What are you going to do?" she questioned suspiciously.
"Going to prove to you that I have not forgotten how to jump,"
answered Phil, with determination.
"Please don't do anything foolish," warned the dainty rider. 
"It is too early in the season to break your neck.  Just think
what you would miss were you to do so this early--think what I
should miss.  Come up here and be sensible--that's a good boy."
The ringmaster paid no attention to their chatter, which was in
tones too low for the audience to catch.
Phil placed the little jumping board in place, upon which 
the riders step just as they are leaping to the back of the 
ring horses.  Then the lad backed up.
"Keep him up lively," he said to the ringmaster.
All at once the lad started on a brisk run across the
sawdust arena.
"Yip!" encouraged Dimples.
"Yip!  Yip!" answered Phil.
The lad leaped up into the air just as if he had been hurled
there on springs.  As he leaped his legs were curled up under
him, and his working mate saw that he was not going to land 
on the back of the horse at all.  Still she dared not speak to 
him, now.  She knew that to attract Phil's attention at that
moment might mean a bad fall for him, for a performer must have
his mind on his work when attempting any dangerous feat.
To the surprise of everyone who witnessed the act, Phil Forrest
cleared the back of the ring horse, fairly flying past the
astonished eyes of Little Dimples.
He landed lightly well outside of the ring curbing, on the
The audience broke out into a roar of applause and a
ripple of hand clapping ran over the arena from the
appreciative performers.  They wholly forgot themselves
in their surprise and approval of the feat.
"Wonderful!" breathed Mr. James Sparling.  "That boy is 
worth a thousand dollars a week to any show."
"Have I forgotten how to jump?" demanded the Circus Boy
exultingly, as the ring horse slowed down to a walk, Phil
stepping along by the side of it looking up into the eyes 
of Little Dimples.
"Indeed you have not.  It was wonderful.  Don't you ever dare
try it again, however.  Why, suppose you had dropped on an iron
tent stake?  You would have at least been disabled for life."
"I presume I should have been.  I happened to know there were
no stakes where I landed.  I made sure of that before I made
"You are a wise boy, even if an imprudent one.  We try the
shoulder stand next, do we not?"
"I haven't the routine in my mind yet.  Don't you dare let
"Supposing we save the shoulder stand until the last.  Let's do
the somersault first," suggested Phil.
"Very well; I don't care."
The music started and the little couple began their work again.
Dimples sprang up to the hip of the Circus Boy, leaning far out
to one side, holding to one of Phil's hands, a very pretty though
not perilous feat for a sure-footed ride.
This they varied by throwing themselves into several
different poses.
"Now the turn," breathed Phil.
He deftly lifted the little woman down to the horse just in front
of himself.  Having done so, Phil grasped Dimples firmly about
the waist with his strong, muscular young hands.
"If you drop me I'll never speak to you again."
"I shall not drop you.  You know the cue?"
The lad nodded to the ringmaster, indicating that the latter was
to urge the horse on to a faster gallop.
"Now what are those two children going to do?" wondered the owner
of the show.  "One is as daring as the other.  It's a wonder they
have gone along without knocking themselves out.  I believe they
are going to do a turn."
That was exactly what they were preparing.  "Now," said
Phil sharply.
The pair rose from the back of the ring horse as one person.  
They leaped gracefully and deliberately into the air, doubled
their legs under them and performed one of the most graceful
somersaults that had ever been seen in the Sparling shows,
landing lightly and surely on the resined back of the old
Dimples sat down, and Phil, dropping lightly to the ground,
threw a kiss to the audience.
The spectators, fully appreciating what had been done, went
fairly wild in their enthusiasm.
Mr. Sparling was no less so.  In his excitement he forgot time
and place and ran into the ring, where he threw an arm about
Phil Forrest, giving him a fatherly hug.
Dimples pouted prettily.
"That's what I call partiality," she complained.
Mr. Sparling promptly lifted her from the back of her horse, 
and stood the blushing little performer on the sawdust by the
side of Phil.
How the spectators did applaud, many standing up in their seats
waving hats and handkerchiefs in their excitement and enthusiasm!
Mr. Sparling was always doing these little, intensely human 
things, not with any idea of winning applause, but out of 
sheer big-heartedness.  They did much toward spreading the 
reputation of the Sparling show and popularizing it as well.
"Ladies and gentlemen," announced the showman when quiet had once
more been restored, "you will pardon me for interrupting the
performance, but as the owner of the show I want to say a few
words on behalf of my star performers, Little Dimples and Master
Phil Forrest."
The audience interrupted him with a cheer.
"The act which you have just witnessed is as great a surprise
to me as it could possibly have been to you.  It is the first
time these two performers ever attempted it in public.  I might
say, also, that it is the first time to my own knowledge that
any performers in the world ever succeeded in getting away with
a feat of that sort.  I thank you for your approval.  
The performance will now proceed."
After the applause which this little speech elicited had died
away the band once more began to play.
Phil and Dimples commenced a series of acts, jumping from and to
the back of the horse whose speed was increased for the purpose.
In the next rest Dimples called the attention of her associate to
the clown Diaz, who was not far from them at the moment.
Dimples had been in the show business so long that her intuition
had become very keen.  Nothing of consequence happened under the
big top, or beneath the low-roofed dressing tents, that she did
not know of, or at least surmise.  Especially keen was she in all
matters relating to Phil Forrest and Teddy Tucker, and her
interest had in many instances served to save the lads from
unpleasant consequence.
"I don't like that fellow, Phil," Dimples remarked, referring
"I think he is a bad man."
"I hope not.  He is impulsive and--"
"Revengeful and ugly," finished Dimples.
"As I said, he is impulsive, like all of his race."
"What has been going on with you lately, Phil?"
"I don't understand what you mean?"
"Oh, yes, you do."
"You mean with regard to Diaz?"
"That's what I mean.  Have you had any trouble?"
"We had a slight disagreement," admitted the lad.
"Tell me about it."
"Wait!  There goes the music."
The ringmaster's whip cracked its warning and the gray horse
started at a slow gallop.  Phil was up beside his companion with
agility and grace.  The first round or two they stood poised on
the horse, while Phil related briefly what had taken place
between himself and Diaz.
"Come, aren't you two going to get to work?" demanded 
the ringmaster.
"You attend to your own work.  We'll look out for ours," 
snapped Dimples.
"Yes, and if you think you can do better just come up and try,"
added Phil, with a good-natured laugh.  "Up, Dimples!"
He threw her lightly to his shoulders, on which the woman stood
poised, making as graceful and pretty a picture as had ever been
seen in a circus ring.  Fragile as she was, it seemed as if Phil
were all too slender to support her weight.
The act brought a whirlwind of applause.
"You look out for him, Phil.  I--"
"Jump, Dimples!"
The ring horse had suddenly stumbled, its nose plowing up the
sawdust in a cloud.
Phil, with rare presence of mind, lifted the feet from his
shoulders and hurled the girl far from him.
"Land on your feet!" he shouted, then Phil plunged off,
CHAPTER XIII
A NARROW ESCAPE
Thanks to Phil's presence of mind, Dimples had landed lightly on
her feet well outside the ring curbing.  Had the lad held to her
ankles even a second too long the result must have been serious,
if not fatal, for Dimples would have been hurled to the ground
As it was, Phil gave her a lift, enabling her to double and
"ball," a circus term meaning to curl one's feet up under the
body, then straighten them as needed to give the body balance
either in turning a somersault or in falling.
In doing so, however, Phil had had no thought for his own safety.
He plunged forward over the head of the ring horse, striking the
ground on his head and face.
The force of his fall had been broken somewhat by his quickly
throwing out his hands in front of him and relaxing the muscles
of his body.  Circus performers soon learn how to fall--how to
make the best of every situation with which they are confronted.
Despite this, his fall had been a severe and dangerous one.
"There, he has done it!  I knew he would," cried Mr. Sparling,
rushing to the ring.  Quick as he was, Dimples was ahead of him. 
She leaped the ring curbing and dropped down beside him, not
caring for the dust and the dirt that soiled her pretty costume.
"Phil!  Phil!" she cried.
Phil did not answer at the moment.
"Is he hurt--is he killed?" demanded Mr. Sparling excitedly.
"Of course he is hurt.  Can't you see he is?" answered
Dimples testily.
She turned the boy over and looked into his face.  The dirt 
was so ground into the handsome, boyish face as to make it 
scarcely recognizable.
"Lift him up.  Get some of the attendants to carry him back!"
commanded the woman impatiently.
"No, no!" protested Phil in a muffled voice, for his mouth
was full of sawdust and dirt.  "I'm all right.  Don't worry
"He's all right," repeated the showman.  "I'll help you
Phil, like the plucky performer that he was, declined their
offers of assistance and struggled to his feet.  He was dizzy and
staggered a little, but after a moment succeeded in overmastering
his inclination to faint.
A fleck of blood on his lips showed through makeup and sawdust.
"I'm all right.  Don't worry about me," he said, with a
forced smile.
Dimples sought to brush the dirt from his face with her
handkerchief, but he put her aside gently, and, with a low bow,
threw a kiss to the audience.
Their relief was expressed in a roar of applause.
Phil staggered over to where the ring horse still lay near the
center of the ring and knelt down beside it, examining the leg
that was doubled up under the animal.
The ringmaster cracked his whip lash as a signal for the animal
to get up, but the faithful old horse, despite its efforts to
rise, was unable to do so.
"What is the matter with him?" demanded Mr. Sparling.
"Jim has broken a leg, I think," answered Phil sadly.  "Too bad,
The lad patted the head of the horse and ran his fingers through
the grey mane.  Tears stood in Phil Forrest's eyes, for he had
ridden this horse and won most of his triumphs on its resined
back during the past three years.
"Dimples, I guess we have ridden Jim for the last time," said
Phil in a low voice.  "Hadn't you better start the other acts, 
Mr. Sparling.  The audience will become uneasy."
"Yes, yes," answered the showman, waving his hand to the band,
a signal that they were to play and the show to go on as usual. 
"Are you sure, Phil--sure Jim has not merely strained the leg?"
"I am sure.  He never will perform again."
Dimples brushed a hand across her eyes.
"I shall cry when I get back to my dressing tent.  I know I
shall," she said, with a tremor in her voice that she strove
Then Dimples smiled bravely, waving a hand at the audience,
though her heart was sad.
"What had we better do with him, Phil?"
"We can do nothing at present--not until the show is ended.  
Then, there is only one thing to do."
"You mean he will have to be--"
"Yes, Dimples, he will have to be shot," answered Phil.
"But the audience?"
"Have a couple of attendants come in here and pretend to be
working over Jim.  That will make the audience think the animal's
foot is injured rather than fatally hurt," suggested 
Phil Forrest.
"A good idea," said Mr. Sparling, giving the necessary orders.
Tell them not to disturb the spot, not trample it down.
"Why?" questioned the showman in surprise.
"I'll tell you later.  I have my own reasons."
Phil motioned to Teddy to approach.
"Sit down here in the ring and watch the horse and the men around
him," directed the Circus Boy.  "I'll tell you why later."
The show went on with a snap and dash.  Meanwhile, Phil, his
clothes torn, his face grimy with dirt, started down the
concourse toward the pad room, hand in hand with Little Dimples.
Their progress was a triumphal one so far as the audience was
concerned, for the people cheered them all the way and until the
slender riders had disappeared behind the crimson curtain just
beyond the bandstand.
Phil quietly washed the dirt from his face, and pulling on
his street clothes over his ring costume, started to reenter
At that moment Mr. Sparling came hurrying in.  The two met in the
"Phil, how did that accident happen?" demanded the showman.
"You saw it, did you not, Mr. Sparling?"
"Yes.  But I was unable to understand how it occurred."
"That is exactly what is bothering me," answered the lad, with a
peculiar smile that the owner of the show was not slow to catch.
"You suspect something?"
"I suspect I got a bump that I shan't forget soon," laughed the
Circus Boy.  "It is a wonder I did not break my neck."
"You undoubtedly saved Dimples' life at the risk of your own.  
You are the pluckiest lad--no, I'll say the pluckiest _man_ I
have ever known."
"Don't make me blush, Mr. Sparling."
"Nevertheless, I wish you wouldn't take chances on that
act again.  Give the audience the same old act and they
will be satisfied with that."
"Didn't you like the act?"
"It was the finest exhibition of its kind that I ever saw.  
I hope neither the Ringlings, nor Barnum and Bailey, nor any
of the big shows get a peep at that act."
"Because were they to do so I would be sure to lose my little
star performers right in the middle of the season," laughed
"Oh, I hardly think so.  I do not wish to leave this show. 
Had it not been for you I should still be doing chores for
my board and clothes back in Edmeston.  Now wouldn't that
"Very," grinned the showman.
"Whatever I have accomplished I have you to thank for."
"You mean you owe to your own brightness and cleverness. 
No, Phil, you are a boy who would have succeeded anywhere. 
They can't keep you down--no, not even were they to sit 
"If Fat Marie, with her five hundred and odd pounds, were 
to sit on me, I rather think I would be kept down," answered
the Circus Boy, with a hearty laugh in which Mr. Sparling 
joined uproariously.
"What is Teddy doing out in the ring?"
"I left him there to keep an eye on the injured horse."
"Why, Phil?"
"Until I could get back and make an examination."
"Very well; I want to see you after you have done so."
"I will look you up."
With that Phil hurried out into the arena.  None of the
spectators appeared to recognize the lad in his street clothes. 
Besides, he tried to avoid observation.  He might have been one
of the spectators, except that he picked his way, among the ropes
and properties down through the center, where the public were not
allowed to go.
"The rest of you may go," said Phil, reaching the ring where
Jim lay breathing heavily.  "Thank you for easing off old Jim. 
I know he appreciates it."
Jim looked up pleadingly as Phil bent over him, patting the
animal on his splendid old gray head.
The attendants went about their duties.
"How'd this happen, Phil?" questioned Teddy.
"I fell off; that's what happened."
"Yes, I know you did, but there's more to it.  I wonder if it's
got anything to do with the loss of my egg?"
"I guess not."
"You guess not?  Well, I know something, Phil."
"I should hope you do."
"I mean about this accident."
Phil gazed at his companion keenly.
"What do you know?"
"Look here," said Teddy, pointing to a depression in the
sawdust arena.
Phil bent over, examining the spot closely.  When he rose, his
lips were tightly compressed and his face was pale.
"Don't mention this to anyone, Teddy.  Promise me?"
" 'Course I won't tell.  Why should I?  But I found out about it,
"Yes; at least you have made a pretty good start in 
that direction.  I shall have to tell Mr. Sparling.  
It would not be right to keep this information from him."
"N-n-o-o.  Then maybe he'll organize a posse to hunt for my egg."
"Oh, hang your old egg!"
The Roman chariot races were on, the rattle of the wheels, the
shouts of the drivers drowning the voices of the two boys.
"Teddy, you'll have to get back and change your clothes.  
The performance is about over.  That makes me think.  I have on 
my ring clothes under this suit and I must hurry back to my bath
and my change."
The performance closed and the rattle and bang of tearing down
the big white city had begun.  The boys were engaged in packing
their trunks now, as were most of their fellow performers.
"What's that?" demanded Teddy, straightening up suddenly.
"Somebody fired a shot," answered another performer.
Phil knew what it meant.
A bullet had ended the sufferings of the faithful old ring horse
off under the big top.  The Circus Boy turned away, with a
blinding mist in his eyes.
"Poor old Jim!" he groaned.
Off under the women's dressing tent another pair of ears had
heard and understood, and Little Dimples, burying her head in
her hands wept softly.
"Poor old Jim!" she, too, murmured.
THE PILOT GETS A SURPRISE
The happiness of the day had been marred by the accident, 
but, like true circus men, all hands took the disaster in 
the matter-of-fact manner characteristic of their kind.
The show people, in couples and singly, took their way to the
river, where they boarded the boats.  Already wagons were
rumbling down on the docks and cages were being quickly shunted
into position for their journey down the river that night.
Everything moved with as much method as if the show had been
traveling in this way from the beginning of the season.
The performers were enjoying the novel experience of river
traveling too thoroughly to turn into their berths early.  A cold
lunch had been spread in the main cabins of the "Marie" and the
"River Queen" for the performers, while from the cook tent,
baskets had been prepared and sent in for the use of the laborers
after they had completed their night's work and finished loading
All this was appreciated, and it was a jolly company that lined
the tables in the two larger boats.  Leather upholstered seats
were built into the sides of the cabin, and with mouths and hands
full, the circus people soon took possession of the seats, where
they ate and chatted noisily.
"Funny thing about Jim," said one of the performers.  "What do
you suppose made him fall, Mr. Miaco?"
"I don't know.  Probably for the same reason that anyone falls."
"What is that?"
"Stumbled over something, I guess."
"Hey, Teddy, what ailed the ring horse?" called a voice as
the Circus Boy sauntered in and espying the tables made a
dive for them.
"I guess he was hungry," mumbled Teddy, his mouth full of
ham sandwich.
"What makes you think that?"
" 'Cause he bit the dust."
A general groan was heard in the cabin.
"Throw him overboard!"
"I know a better way to punish him for that ghastly joke."
"Take the food away from him, tie him up and make him watch us
eat," was the answer.
A shout of laughter greeted the proposition.
The pilot of the "Marie," a heavily bearded man named Cummings,
broke out in a loud guffaw.
All eyes were turned upon him.
"I reckon I kin tie him up if you says the word," he volunteered.
"All right; tie him up," shouted the performers, scenting fun.
Teddy eyed the pilot out of the corners of his eyes and placidly
munched his sandwich.  The pilot, in the meantime, had stepped to
the rear end of the cabin, where, from a box of life-preservers
he took a piece of Manila rope.
"I believe he is going to do it," said a clown, nudging 
his companion.
"You mean he is going to try it," answered the other.  "Watch for
some fun.  He thinks Teddy is an easy mark."
"He will be in this case.  That fellow, Cummings, is hard as a
rail fence.  He could handle two of Teddy."
In the meantime Tucker had strolled to the table, from which he
took a large sandwich, buttered it well, then returned to his
seat, not appearing to observe the pilot's movements at all.
As he sat down the lad was observed to open the sandwich,
removing the thin slice of ham and stowing the latter in his
coat pocket.  Then he sat thoughtfully contemplating the two
pieces of buttered bread as if trying to decide whether or not
he should eat them.
"Get up, kiddie," said Cummings, grasping the boy by
the shoulder.  "Get up and take your punishment like
a little dear."
Teddy got up, carelessly, indifferently, while the pilot
stretched the rope to its full length.
The boy saw that he was in earnest.
Quick as a flash Teddy had plastered one half of the sandwich,
buttered side in, right over the eyes of Cummings.
The second half of the sandwich landed neatly over his mouth,
pressed home by a firm fist.
Cummings could not speak, neither could he see.  At that moment 
he was perhaps the most surprised man on the Mississippi River. 
At least he appeared to be, for he stood still.  He stood still
just a few seconds too long.
Teddy had seized the rope.  With it he made a quick twist about
the body of the pilot, taking two turns, then drawing the rope
tight and tying it, thus pinioning the hands and arms of the
pilot to his sides.
"Yip-yeow!" howled Teddy.
The show people shrieked with delight.
"You'll tie up a Circus Boy, will you?" jeered Teddy. 
"You'll have to grow some first.  No Rube with a bunch of
whiskers on his face like that ever lived who could tie up
a real circus man."
Teddy had drawn nearer to impress his words upon the pilot, when
all of a sudden the man's hands gripped the lad.  The boy never
had felt quite so strong a grip on his body.  Cummings had not
handled a pilot wheel on the Mississippi for thirty years without
acquiring some strength in hands and arms.
Teddy, failing to pull away, grappled with his antagonist, 
all in the best of humor, though his face bore its usual 
solemn expression.
"Gangway," cried Teddy humorously.  "I'm going to give him a bath
in the river."
Then began a lively scrimmage.  Back and forth the combatants
struggled across the cabin floor, the growls of the pilot drowned
in the shouts and jeers of the performers.
All at once, Teddy tripped his antagonist and the two went down
into a heap, rolling under the main table on which the lunch had
been spread.
"Look out for the table!" warned a voice.
"Sit on it, some of you fellows, and hold it down!"
The suggestion came too late.  The table suddenly rose into the
air, landing upside down with a crash, at one side of the cabin. 
A moment more and the two combatants were wrestling on roast beef
and ham sandwiches, potato salad and various other foods.
"I guess this has gone about far enough," decided Mr. Miaco, 
the head clown.  "We'll have a fight on our hands, first thing 
we know.  If Teddy really gets angry you'll think the 'Sweet
Marie' is in the midst of a cyclone."
"The 'Fat Marie,' you mean," corrected a voice.
With the assistance of two others Miaco succeeded in
separating the combatants, after which he untied the rope,
releasing the pilot.
Teddy was grinning broadly, but Cummings was not.  The latter was
glowering angrily at his little antagonist.
"Shake?" asked Teddy, extending a hand.
"No, I'm blest if I will!  I'll not shake hands with anybody who
has insulted me by buttering my face," growled the pilot.
"You'll be better bred if you are well buttered,"
suggested Teddy.
"Oh, help!" moaned The Fattest Woman on Earth.
"Put him out!  Put him out!" howled several voices in chorus.
"Yes, that's the thing!  We can stand for some things some of the
time, but we won't stand for everything all of the time," added 
a clown wisely.
Half a dozen performers picked Teddy up bodily, bore him to one 
of the open windows and dumped him out on the deck.
"Here, what's all this commotion about?" commanded Phil, who, 
at that moment, came from his cabin to the deck.
"They threw me out," wailed Teddy.
"I made a pun."
"Tell it to me."
Teddy in short, jerky sentences, related what had been done
and said.  Phil leaned against the rail and shouted.
"I--I don't blame them," he gasped between laughs.  "It is a
wonder they did not throw you overboard."
"They had better not try it."
"But what about the pilot--what happened to him?"
"May--maybe they have put him out, too."
"You have a way of getting into trouble, Teddy.  Mr. Cummings
will love you for what you have done to him, I can well imagine."
"About as much as I love him, I guess.  He got too bold, Phil.  
He had to have a lesson and Teddy Tucker was the boy who had to
teach it to him.  Say, go in and gather me a sandwich out of the
wreck, will you?"
"Not I.  Go and get your own sandwich.  I'm going to see 
Mr. Sparling in his cabin.  He has sent for me."
Teddy sat out on deck while the others were picking up the table,
the dishes and the ruined food.  It would not do for Mr. Sparling
to come in and see how they had wasted the food he had had
prepared for them.  The probabilities were that they would get no
more, were he to do so.  Teddy watched the proceedings narrowly
from the safe vantage point of the deck.
In the meantime Phil had gone to Mr. Sparling's cabin, where the
showman was checking up the day's receipts.
"A pretty good day, Phil," smiled Mr. Sparling.
"I am glad to hear that, sir."
"Two thousand dollars in the clear, as the result of our two
performances today.  Do you know of any other business that would
pay as much for the amount invested, eh, Phil?"
"I do not, sir."
"You see, it is a pretty good business to be in after all,
provided it is run on business principles, at the same time
treating one's employees like human beings."
"How would you like to have an interest in a show?"
"I am going to, someday.  It may be a long time yet before I have
earned money enough, but I shall if I live," said the Circus Boy
quietly but with determination.
"So you shall.  I intend to have a talk with you on this subject,
one of these days.  What I wanted to talk with you about is 
Jim's loss.  I am glad it wasn't your ring horse, Phil.  Have you
anything to say about the animal breaking his leg?"
"Out with it."
"Somebody is to blame for that accident."
"Someone planned that accident."
"Teddy and myself examined the ring, that is, Teddy already had
done so before I returned, and he discovered something--we both
decided what must have happened."
"Yes," urged the showman as Phil paused.
"A round hole about a foot deep had been dug in the ring.  
This had been covered with a shingle and the sawdust sprinkled
over to hide the shingle.  It was a deliberate attempt to do
someone an injury."
Mr. Sparling eyed him questioningly.
"Are you sure?"
"As sure as I can be.  Jim didn't happen to step on the
shingle until we were doing the pyramid, then of course
something happened.  It is a wonder that neither Little
Dimples nor myself was injured."
"Phil, we simply must find out who is responsible for this
dastardly work."
"And when we do--when we do--"
"What then, Mr. Sparling!"
The showman was opening and closing his fingers nervously.
"Don't ask me," he replied in a low, tense voice.  "I don't want
to see the man.  I should do something I would be sorry for all
the rest of my life.  Good night, Phil."
Phil Forrest left the cabin and strode thoughtfully away to his
own room, where he was soon in bed.  Phil, however, did not sleep
very well that night.
AN UNWELCOME VISITOR
The boats of the Sparling fleet had been moving steadily
downstream for several hours, their passengers, in the majority
of instances, sound asleep, lulled by the gentle motion and the
far away "spat, spat, spat," of the industrious paddle wheel at
the stern of each craft.
Teddy had prudently kept away from the main cabin for the rest 
of the evening; when Phil turned in, Teddy was sleeping sweetly. 
His active part in the affair in the cabin had not caused him 
any loss of sleep.
With the pilot, Cummings, however, matters had been different. 
Mr. Cummings had been steadily at the wheel of the "Marie" since
the boats had sailed shortly after one o'clock in the morning.
The pilot's temper had suffered as the result of his experience
in the cabin, and the jeers aud laughter of the circus people had
not added to his peace of mind.  At intervals he would break out
into a tirade of invective and threats against Teddy Tucker, who
had so humiliated him.
"I'll get even with that little monkey-face!  They ought to put
him in the monkey cage where he belongs," growled the pilot,
giving the wheel a three-quarter turn to keep the boat from
driving her prow into the bank, for which he had been steering
to avoid a hidden sand bar.
"I'll tell the manager tomorrow, that if he doesn't keep that
boy away from me, I'll take the matter into my own hands and
give that kid a trouncing that will last him till we get to 
New Orleans."
The darkness of the night, just before the dawn, hung over the
broad river.  Doors and windows of the pilot house were thrown
open so that the wheelman might get a clear view on all sides.
All at once Cummings seemed to feel some presence near him.  
He thought he caught the sound of a footfall on the deck.  
To make sure he left the wheel for a few seconds, peering out
along the deck, on both sides of the pilot house.
He saw no one.  The air was filled with a black pall of smoke
from the "Marie's" funnel, the smoke settling over the boat,
wholly enveloping her from her stack to the stern paddle wheel.
"Huh!" grunted the pilot, returning to his duties.
Yet his ears had not deceived him.  Something was near him, a
strange shape, the like of which never had been seen on the deck
of the "Fat Marie", in all her long service on the Mississippi.
"If that fool boy comes nosing around here I'll throw him
overboard--that's what I'll do," threatened Cummings.  "I'll show
him he can't fool with the pilot of the finest steamboat of the
old line.  I--"
The pilot suddenly checked himself and peered out to starboard.
"Wha--what?" he gasped.
Something darkened the doorway.  What he now saw was a strange,
grotesque shape that looked like a shadow itself in the uncertain
light of the early morning.
"Get out of here!" bellowed the pilot, the cold chills running up
and down his spine.
The most frightful sound that his ears had ever heard, broke
suddenly on the quiet of the Mississippi night.
"It's the lion escaped!"
Cummings grabbed a stout oak stick that lay at hand--the stick
that now and then, when battling with a stiff current, he used 
to insert between the spokes of the steering wheel to give him
greater leverage.
With a yell he brought the stick down on the head of the 
strange beast.  The roar or bray of the animal stopped suddenly.
Whack! came the echo from the club.
Cummings sprang back.  He slammed the pilot-house door in the
face of the beast, and closed the windows with a bang that shook
the pilot house.  In his excitement the pilot rang in a signal to
the engineer for full speed astern.
About that time something else occurred.
With a terrific crash one of the windows of the pilot house was
shattered, pieces of glass showering in upon the pilot like a
sudden storm of hail.
Another window fell in a shower about him.  He tried to get the
door on the opposite side of the pilot house open, but locked it
instead and dropped the key on the floor.
All this time the "Fat Marie's" paddle wheel was backing water
and the craft, now swung almost broadside to the stream, was
working her way over toward the Iowa shore.
A section of the pilot-house door fell shattering on the inside,
and what sounded like a volley of musketry, rattled against the
harder woodwork of the pilot house itself.
Frightened almost out of all sense, Cummings began groping
excitedly for his revolver.  At last he found it, more by
accident than through any methodical search for it.
The pilot began to shoot.  Some of his bullets went through the
roof, others through the broken out windows, while a couple
landed in the door.
At last the half-crazed Cummings was snapping the hammer on 
empty chambers.  He had emptied his revolver without hitting
anything more than wood and water.
The fusillade from the outside still continued.
By this time the din had begun to arouse the passengers on 
the boat.  Phil Forrest was the first to spring up.  He shook
Teddy by the shoulder, but, being unable to awaken his companion,
jerked the boy out of bed and let him drop on the floor.
"Get a net!  What's the matter down there!" yelled Teddy. 
"Hey, hey, did the mule kick me?  Oh, that you Phil? 
What's the row--what has happened?"
"I don't know.  Come on out.  Something has gone wrong.  
Hear those shots?"
"Wow!  Trouble!  That's me!  I knew I couldn't dream about angels
without something breaking loose."
Phil had thrown the door open and bounded out to the deck. 
Just as he did so the pilot leaped from the front window of
the pilot house, climbed over the rail and dropped to the 
deck below.  The volleying, the thunderous blows 
still continued.
A loud bray attracted their attention to the other side of
"What's that?" demanded Phil, starting off in that direction.
"It's January!  It's January!" howled Teddy Tucker.  "I would
know that sweet voice if I heard it in the jungles of Africa. 
Where is he?"
"Over here somewhere.  Come on.  I can't imagine what
has happened."
"The animals have escaped.  There's a lion on the hurricane
deck!" they heard a voice below shout in terrified tones.
"Do you think that's it?" called Phil.
"Lion, nothing!  Didn't I tell you I knew that voice?  There he
is now.  See him hand out the hoofs at the pilot house.  He must
have a grudge against Cummings.  I know.  He's paying the fellow
back for trying to tie me up."
"But--but, how did he ever get up here?"
"Go it, January!  Kick the daylights out of him!  I'll give you a
whole peck of sugar if you kick the house into the river, pilot
"Whoa!  Whoa, January!" shouted Phil.
The donkey, for it was January himself, and not a savage 
beast that was acting the part of a battering ram and rapidly
demolishing the pilot house, paused for a second; then, moving 
to a new position, he began once more hammering at the structure.
"How did he ever get up here, Teddy?"
"I don't know.  I know I am glad he did, that's all.  
Let him kick."
"I'm going to try to catch him."
"Keep away, Phil.  He'll have you in the river.  He has a fit. 
Wait till he comes out of it."
"Why, the boat is moving backwards," cried Phil.
"Yes, it is."
"Maybe January has kicked the machinery out of gear."
The circus people were by this time on deck, and, like Teddy and
Phil, many of them were in their pajamas.  They had heard the
cry, "the animals have escaped," and many of the people were
gazing apprehensively about.
"It's all right," shouted Teddy.  "It is only January, taking his
morning exercise."
About that time Phil, who had run around to the other side of
the pilot house, discovered that it was empty.  There was no
pilot there.
Understanding came to him instantly.  January had either kicked
or frightened Cummings out.
"The boat is running wild!" he called.  "Find the pilot or we
shall be on the shore before we know it."
Phil did not wait for them to find the pilot.  Instead, he
climbed in through one of the broken windows and grasped
"I've got to stop this going astern first of all," he decided.
He could see the banks now, and they seemed perilously near in
the faint morning light.  The other boats of the fleet were
steaming up in answer to the signals of distress that Cummings
had blown in his excitement.
"What is it?  Are you sinking?" called a voice through a
megaphone from the deck of the "River Queen."
"No, we are all right," answered Phil, leaning out of the window.
"You'll be high and dry on the Iowa shore if you don't
watch sharp.  Where are you going?"
"Don't know.  Keep out of the way or we're liable to run
Phil grabbed a bell pull and gave it a violent jerk.  The engines
stopped suddenly, to the Circus Boy's great delight.  January had
ceased his bombardment and now stood with head thrust though one
of the broken windows, gazing in inquiringly at Phil Forrest.
"If one bell stopped the engine, another bell should be the
signal to go ahead," reasoned the lad, giving the bell pull two
quick jerks.  He was right.  The machinery started and he could
hear the big paddle wheel beating the river into a froth.
The lower deck was in an uproar.  Men were shouting and running
about, trying to discover what animals had escaped, as the pilot
insisted that the hurricane deck was alive with them.
"Get that pilot up here, if you have to drag him.  I don't know
where the channel is, and I am liable to put the whole outfit
aground any minute," shouted Phil Forrest.  "Teddy, never mind
that idiotic donkey.  We're in a fix.  Get downstairs, at one
jump, and see that the pilot is brought up here lively."
"I'll fetch him.  You watch me," answered the irrepressible
Teddy, starting off on a run.
January had all at once grown very meek.  He stood gazing
thoughtfully off over the river.
"What is the trouble here?" roared Mr. Sparling dashing up to the
pilot house at that moment.
"That is exactly what I have been trying to find out," answered
the Circus Boy.
"What, _Phil?_"
"Yes, it's Phil."
"What are you doing in there?"
"Steering the boat."
"Piloting the--where is the pilot?"
"Somewhere below.  I have sent Teddy after him.  You see,
January was trying to kick the pilot house off the boat and into
the river.  The pilot, thinking the animals had escaped, fled. 
When I came up this craft was traveling astern and January was
making a sieve of this little house.  I have got the 'Marie'
going forward, but I may run her aground if he doesn't come
along pretty soon."
Mr. Sparling reached the companionway in two bounds, and, leaping
to the lower deck, caught the pilot by the coat collar, shaking
off the two circus men who had hold of Cummings.
"You get up to that pilot house or you'll be in the worst fix
in your whole river career."  Mr. Sparling accompanied the
words with a violent push that sent the pilot headlong toward
the stairway.  But the showman was by the fellow's side by the
time he had gotten to his feet, and began assisting him up the
companionway, while Teddy Tucker followed, prodding the pilot
in the back with a clenched fist.
Into the pilot house they hurled the man, Cummings.
"Now, you steer!  If it had not been for that boy we might have
lost our whole equipment.  I don't care anything about your old
boat, but I'm blest if I am going to let a fool pilot wreck 
us--a pilot who is afraid of a donkey."
"I'll quit this outfit tomorrow," growled Cummings.  "I kin pilot
steamers, but I can't fight a menagerie and a pack of boys with
the very Old Nick in them.  Get away from that wheel!" he
commanded, thrusting Phil aside.
Mr. Sparling had him by the collar once more.
"You do that again, and I'll take it out of you right here!"
declared the showman savagely.
"I'll bet he's the fellow who stole my egg," declared Teddy,
eyeing the pilot sternly.
BETRAYED BY A SNEEZE
"How did that beast get up here?" demanded Mr. Sparling.
"Who, Cummings?" asked Teddy innocently.
"No, no!  The donkey."
"Oh!  Maybe he came up through the smoke stack.  If you will look
at it you may find donkey tracks on the inside of the stack."
"That will do, that will do, young man."
It was found upon investigation that January had gnawed his
halter until only a thin strand held it together, which was easy
for the donkey to break.  Then he began an investigation of the
boat, ending by his climbing the broad staircase and frightening
Next morning the pilot house looked as though it had been through
a shipwreck.  The whole craft, in fact the entire fleet, was
laughing at the expense of Cummings, who now kept to himself,
studiously avoiding the other people.  January was tied up with 
a dog chain after that, and was not heard from again during any
trip of that season; that is, beyond his regular acts in the
sawdust arena.
The next day Phil Forrest began his investigation in earnest.  
He knew that Mr. Sparling looked to him to discover who had
caused so much trouble in the show, besides which, Phil took a
personal interest because of the attempt that had been made on
the lives of Little Dimples and himself.
Teddy suggested that he go through the pilot's belongings,
expressing the firm belief that they would find the ostrich egg
were they to do so.
Phil consulted Little Dimples, that afternoon, as to her opinion
of the occurrences of the past week, but the star bareback rider
could shed no light on them, beyond the fact that certain people
with whom Phil had had difficulties might bear watching.
"That's what I think," answered the Circus Boy.  "I do not like 
to accuse anyone unjustly, but I have these suspicions of the
Spanish clown."
"Have you mentioned your suspicion to Mr. Sparling, Phil?"
"Do you intend to do so?"
"Not unless I find some facts to support my suspicion."
"You will get to the bottom of the mystery, I am sure," smiled 
"I am not so sure.  Why do you think so?"
"Because you are one of the cleverest boys I ever knew,
that's why.  I should hate to have you on my track if I
were guilty of any particular crime that you were trying to
run down.  I should expect to land in jail, and I think I
should come straight to you and give myself up," added the
woman with a merry laugh.
"I wish I were all that you think I am, Dimples."
"You are.  You saved my life again yesterday.  I'm going to 
pay you back, however.  Someday, when you fall overboard,
Little Dimples is going to jump right in and rescue you--haul
you out by the hair of your head--"
"You can't, it is cut too short."
"Then I will pull you out by an ear."
"I shall make it my business to fall in, then, at the first
opportunity," laughed Phil.  "It would be worthwhile."
Dimples gave him a playful tap.
"You can turn a compliment as well as you can do a turn in the
ring, can't you Phil Forrest?"
Despite their narrow escape from serious accident, Phil and
Dimples went through their double act in the ring that day and
evening with perfect confidence.  Previous to going on, Phil had
had a ring attendant go over the sawdust circle on his hands and
knees, making a careful examination of it, to be sure that the
ring had not been tampered with.
>From that time on until the act went on, the ring was watched,
though Phil did not believe the miscreant would attempt to lay
another trap for him so soon.  Still, he took nothing 
for granted.
That night after the performance, the air being warm and balmy,
the Circus Boy strolled out on the lot, sitting down on a little
knoll to think matters over.  There was plenty of time, for the
boat would not leave for two or three hours, and Phil wanted to 
Lights were twinkling on the lot like fireflies.  There was
shouting and singing, but little of this conveyed itself to Phil,
for his mind was on other things.
All at once he pricked up his ears.  He caught the sound of
running footsteps.
"Someone is coming this way," he muttered.  "I wonder what
that means?  Surely none of the circus people would come here. 
They would go around by the road."
The lad concealed himself behind the knoll, peering over the top
of it.  He resolved not to show himself until he had discovered
the identity of the newcomers.
They proved to be two men who halted a short distance beyond him,
and began to converse in guarded tones.  It was so dark that Phil
could scarcely distinguish their figures and their voices were
pitched so low that it was impossible for him to hear what they
were saying.
"This looks queer," Phil muttered.  "I wish I could hear what
they are talking about.  Perhaps they are town fellows who have
been chased off the lot because they were in the way.  At any
rate, I'm going to try to find out what they are up to.  
Hello, they are coming right over here."
Phil crouched down behind the knoll and listened.  The men turned
slowly and came toward him.  All at once one of them stumbled on
the very knoll behind which he was secreted.
The man uttered a growl.
"Come, sit down," he said to his companion.
"We better go on," answered the other.
"No hurry.  We've got all the time in the world.  If we miss the
boat we can swim.  That was a narrow escape.  In a minute more
we'd had that wagon fixed so they would never have got off the
lot with it."
"Hello," muttered Phil under his breath.  "Something surely is
going on here.  One of the voices I have heard before, and the
other I seem to recognize.  I believe that first fellow belongs
to the show.  I am almost sure of it."
"You think the fellow suspects?"
"The tall one does.  But he doesn't know whom be suspects."
"We have to take care."
"But we will get both before the end of the season."
"You bet we will.  I have a plan that--"
"What is it?"
"It is this."
Phil had buried his head in the grass and compressed his body 
into the smallest possible space that he might avoid discovery. 
He could hear the two men breathe, and he reasoned that they 
might hear him as well.
"You know the big net?"
"You mean the one over which the flying four perform?"
"What about it?"
"It can be fixed."
"By weakening some of the strands on each side."
"That is good, but suppose someone noticed."
"Not if it is done right.  I don't mean to do it all at once. 
I'll doctor one or two strands every day until the net is so
weakened that it won't hold."
"Yes, but how will you do this so no one will see?"
"I'll tell you.  After the act is over they roll the net up and
carry it out.  It is dumped just outside the pad room, where it
is picked up by one of the property wagons later in the evening. 
It's in the same place every night."
"I think somebody may see us do it."
"No danger.  Keep cool; that's all.  We'll get even with
those fellows.  We have got to before we can carry out 
the other plans we have talked over.  They are too sharp. 
Sooner or later they will get wise to us, and we've got to
get them out of the way before we go any further.  The work
must be done in a natural sort of way, so that no suspicion 
is aroused."
"Yes, that's so.  But what about the others?  You want to hurt
"I don't care, so long as we get the right one, how many get 
their bumps."
"That's right.  But only one of them is on trapeze.  What you do
about other?"
"It is the tall one that I want most.  He's got to be put out of
the running.  It won't kill him, but it will lay him up in a
hospital for the rest of the season, and that's enough for us."
"The other one will be taken care of after we get through with 
the first.  The small fellow is sharp, but he can't see beyond 
his nose.  It's easy to fool him."
"The fiends!" muttered Phil.  "I believe they are plotting
against Teddy and me.  I have a good notion to sail into
them right here and settle it.  I believe I could whip the
two of them.  I--"
At that instant a blade of grass tickled Phil's nose.  He raised
his head quickly.
"What's that?" exclaimed one of the plotters.
"I heard nothing."
"You didn't?  Well, I did.  There's someone around here and close
"Perhaps it was a squirrel in the grass.  There is no one here."
The blade of grass had done its work, however.  Phil tried hard
to control himself, but he knew he was going to sneeze.
All at once the sneeze came, louder than he had ever
sneezed before.
The men leaped to their feet in sudden alarm.
CHAPTER XVII
EAVESDROPPERS!
"There he is!"
Phil had bounded to his feet, realizing that he could no longer
conceal himself from them.  As he did so, both men sprang toward
him, the Circus Boy eluding them by a leap to one side.
The men made a rush for him.  At first Phil was inclined to stand
his ground and give battle, but he reasoned that, being two to
one, the chances were against him and that even if he were not
captured, he might sustain injuries that would keep him out of
That was the deciding factor with Phil Forrest.  Although he
would have preferred facing his enemies, he whirled instead
and started on a run, with both men pursuing him at top speed.
"He's out-running us.  He'll get away!" cried one of the men. 
"Run, run!  Run for all you're worth!"
But they might as well have spared their effort.  Phil was fleet
of foot, and after getting a slight lead over them he turned
sharply to his right, leaped a fence and lay down.
The men quickly discovered that they had lost their prey. 
Then they became alarmed.
"Get out of here, quick!  He will be following us!"
The men turned and ran swiftly in an opposite direction.
"Do you think he recognized us?"
"I don't know.  We can tell by the way he acts when we get back;
that is if he doesn't follow us now.  We had better separate and
go back to the lot.  From there we can go along with the wagons
and not be noticed.  Don't let him bluff you."
"Have no fear for me."
The plotters separated and cautiously made their way back to the
lot where they were soon lost among the crowd of men at work
taking down the tent.
"I believe one of those two men was Diaz," declared Phil, 
as he once more tried to place the voice that he had seemed 
to recognize.  "They have given me the slip, too.  I know what
I'll do.  I will hurry back to the boat and when Diaz returns 
I will face him and make him betray himself if I can.  I shall
have him then."
Having decided on his course of action, Phil struck off at a trot
across the field.  He soon reached a back street of the village,
and from there ran at full speed to the docks.
All was activity here.  The lad cast a quick glance about, though
he did not expect to find the man for whom he was looking. 
Without pausing in his rapid gait he ran up the companionway to
the upper deck, where he intended to watch at the rail for the
arrival of Diaz from the lot.
As he leaned over the rail he felt someone stir near him. 
Glancing up quickly, the Circus Boy started almost guiltily. 
There, beside him, sat Diaz on a camp stool with his feet on the
steamer's rail, calmly watching the loading operations on the 
"Good evening, Mr. Diaz," said Phil quickly recovering 
his self-possession.
Diaz uttered an unintelligible grunt, but did not deign to turn
"Hey, Phil, is that you?" called the voice of Teddy from further
down the deck.
"Yes," answered Phil, rising and moving aft.  "How long have you
"About an hour."
"Do you know who is sitting over there?"
"Over where?"
"There by the rail?"
"Sure, I know.  That's our old friend Diaz," grinned Teddy.
"How long has he been there?"
"He came in when I did."
"An hour ago?"
Phil was perplexed.
"I do not understand it at all."
"Don't understand what?"
"Something that occurred this evening."
Teddy's curiosity was aroused.
"What is it all about, Phil?"
"I should prefer not to talk about it here, Teddy.  I will tell
you after we get to bed and there is no one about to overhear us.
There is a rascally plot on foot."
"Yes.  I know very little about it, but I know enough to warn me
that you and I will have to keep our eyes open or else we shall
find ourselves in serious difficulties before we realize it."
"Is that so?  Tell me who the plotters are, and I'll turn January
loose on them," explained Teddy.  "Do you think they are the
fellows who stole my egg?"
"I don't know.  Where is Mr. Sparling?"
"I haven't seen him since I ran into him and bowled him over off
on the lot."
Phil laughed.
"As I have said many times before, you are hopeless, Teddy.  
I must go now.  If you see Mr. Sparling, please let me know,
but say nothing to anyone about what I have just told you."
Phil walked back to the point on the deck where he had first
stopped to look over the rail, and, drawing up a stool sat down. 
He began studying the faces of the belated performers who came
straggling down to the dock, singly and in pairs.  None seemed
to be in a hurry; not a face appeared to reflect any excitement. 
After an hour of this Phil felt sure that all the company had
been accounted for.
Mr. Sparling had arrived about twenty minutes earlier, and was
standing on the dock giving orders.  As the lad saw the owner
enter the boat he turned away and hurried downstairs.
"When you are at liberty, I should like a few moments
conversation with you, sir," announced Phil.
"I am at liberty, now, my lad," answered the showman with a smile
and a friendly slap on the boy's shoulder.
"I would rather not talk here, Mr. Sparling," answered Phil in a
"Something doing, eh?"
"Is it important that you should talk with me at once, or will a
little later on answer the purpose?"
"Later on will do.  It is not so urgent as that."
"When the men get these menagerie cages all shifted on deck I
will meet you in my cabin.  That will be in about twenty
minutes, Phil."
"Very well, sir; I will be on hand."
Phil walked away, watched the loading operations for a few
minutes, then strolled to the main cabin on the upper deck,
where lunch was being served as usual.
The Circus Boy appeared more light-hearted than usual that
evening, as he chatted and joked with his friends among 
the performers.  He did not wish the man or men whom he had
overheard off on the lot to know that he was the eavesdropper. 
He felt that he could make better progress in his investigation
were they not on their guard.
The pilot, Cummings, was not in the cabin.  He had not been
seen there since his trouble with Teddy.  Despite the pilot's
determination to resign, he was still on duty, he and 
Mr. Sparling having come to a satisfactory understanding.
Teddy was helping himself liberally for the second time since his
return from the lot.
"Do you think you will ever be able to satisfy that appetite
of yours?" laughed Phil.
"I hope not," answered Teddy solemnly.  "That's the only fun in
life--that and the donkey."
Just then Mr. Sparling passed through the cabin on the way to his
stateroom and office.  He gave Phil a significant glance, to
which the Circus Boy did not respond.  A few minutes later,
however, Phil strolled out to the deck.  Reaching it he turned
quickly and hurried aft, entering the passageway there and going
directly to Mr. Sparling's quarters.
"Come in," invited the owner in response to Phil's gentle rap.
The blinds had been drawn up, though the windows were let
down into their casings out of sight.  Phil noted this in
a quick glance.
"Sit down and tell me what has happened, Phil.  I am sure you
have made some sort of discovery."
"I have and I haven't."
"What do you mean?"
"That I am deeper in the mire than ever."
"Tell me about it."
"While I have made no discoveries that will help us much, I have
learned just enough to understand that there is a diabolical plot
"Against whom?"
"I am not sure, but I think it is against Teddy and myself."
"Is it possible?  Who are the plotters?"
"That is the worst of it; I do not know.  I wish I did.  
I thought I had one of the men identified, but I find I 
am all wrong.  I am more at sea than ever."
"Who did you think it was?"
"As long as I am mistaken, why should I accuse anyone?"
"You are right.  Have you reason to believe it is someone
connected with this show?"
"I am sure that at least one of the men is."
"Then there is more than one in this thing?"
"There are two men.  At least I have seen two.  There may be more
for all I know."
"Now, tell me what it is all about.  You haven't said a word
regarding this plot yet," urged the showman drawing his chair
around the corner of his desk and leaning forward with his hands
on his knees.
Phil told how he strolled off into the field adjoining the
circus lot, and went on in detail to relate all that had
occurred after that.  As he proceeded with his story the face
of James Sparling grew serious and then stern.
"I presume I should have stood my ground and given battle to
them, if for no other reason than to find out who they were,"
concluded the lad, somewhat ruefully.
"Phil Forrest, you should have done nothing of the sort,"
answered Mr. Sparling sharply.  "You take quite enough risk as
it is.  You think the plot now is to tamper with the big net?"
"Is it possible that such scoundrels are traveling with the
Sparling shows?"
"I wish I did not think so."
"Phil, it is not the man who was responsible for several
accidents the first year you were with us, is it?" demanded
the showman shrewdly, darting a sharp glance at Phil.
"No, sir," answered the boy flushing a little.  "That man is no
longer with the show."
"I thought so.  Now I have him located."
"The--the man I saw tonight--you know him?" gasped Phil.
"No.  I did not mean that.  I refer to the fellow who nearly
caused your death three years ago."
"You had some trouble with Diaz a short time ago, did you not?"
Phil was surprised that the showman was aware of this.
"Where is Diaz tonight?" demanded the showman almost sternly.
"In his stateroom, or else out on deck."
"Are you sure?"
Phil nodded.
"What time did he return from the lot?"
"He was here when I went on deck.  He came to the boat directly
after the performance."
"You are sure of this?"
"You are a very shrewd young man, sir," said Mr. Sparling,
with a mirthless smile.  "However, these guilty men must be
found and punished.  You think their first efforts will be
directed toward the net?"
"Yes, according to what I overheard.  I have an idea, however,
that they will not do so at once, fearing they may have been
recognized, or at any rate that their plans are known to 
someone else."
"Do you think they recognized you?"
"I do not.  I did not speak.  I was on the point of doing so,
then checked myself."
"Right!  You are one in a hundred.  I will have a watch kept on
the net, and an examination made of it before every performance."
Phil smiled faintly.
"I am not afraid for myself."
"No, that's your greatest failing.  You are not afraid of
anything and you take very long chances.  I hope you will be
more cautious in the future.  You must be careful, Phil, and
you had better caution your partner, Teddy Tucker.  Does he
know of this?"
"No, but I intend to tell him.  He is more interested in the
possibility of recovering his egg than in any personal danger 
to himself or to me," said the Circus Boy with a short laugh.
"Keep your eyes open, and take care of yourself.  If we fail
to get a clue by the time we get to Des Moines I shall send
to St. Louis for the best detective they have and put him on
the case.  Perhaps it would be best to do so now."
"I think--" began Phil, when his words were arrested by a loud
noise just outside the cabin, on the deck.
Mr. Sparling and Phil started up, for the instant not
understanding the meaning of the disturbance.
"Wha--what--" gasped the showman.
Phil ran to the window and looked out.
The deck at that point was deserted.  He thought he saw a figure
dodge into an entrance near the stern of the boat, and looking
forward he discovered another disappearing in that direction.
The Circus Boy sprang for the door.
"What is it, what is it?" cried the showman.
"Eavesdroppers!" answered the lad, darting out into the
passageway, followed closely by Mr. Sparling.
"You go that way and I'll go this," directed Phil.
CHAPTER XVIII
MAKING A CAPTURE
The two ran down the corridor, Mr. Sparling heading for the
forward end, Phil toward the stern.
"There he goes!  I see him!" shouted the showman as a figure
leaped out to the deck, slamming the door.  "We have him now!"
Phil rushed out at the stern and started to run along the
starboard side of the boat.  As he emerged he caught sight of a
figure running toward him, and behind the figure, Mr. Sparling,
coming along the deck in great strides.
"Stop!  We've got you!" shouted the showman.
Phil spread out his arms as the fleeing one drew near him, then
threw them about the fellow, holding him in a firm grip.
"I've got him, Mr. Sparling!"
"Leggo of me!  What's the matter with you?  Anybody would think
this was a high school initiation."
"Teddy," groaned Phil.
"What's that?" demanded the showman jerking Phil and his prisoner
over to an open window through which a faint light was showing.
"It is Teddy Tucker, sir," said Phil releasing his hold.
"What does this mean, sir?" demanded the showman in a
stern voice.
"That's what I want to know.  You fellows chase me around the
boat as if I were some kind of a football.  It's a wonder one
of you didn't kick me.  Lucky for you that you didn't, too, I
can tell you."
"Teddy, come to my cabin at once.  Phil, bring him along,
"Yes," answered Phil Forrest.  Phil was troubled.  He could not
believe it possible that Teddy was guilty of eavesdropping, and
yet the evidence seemed to point strongly in that direction. 
Taking firm hold of his companion's arm he led him along toward
Mr. Sparling's cabin.
"What's all this row about?" growled Teddy.
"That is what I hope you will be able to explain to 
Mr. Sparling's satisfaction," replied Phil.  "However, wait
till we get to his cabin."
Phil led Teddy to the door, thrust him in, then followed, closing
and locking the door.
"Perhaps we had better close that window this time, sir."
Mr. Sparling drew up and locked the window.
"Sit down!" he commanded, eyeing Teddy keenly.
Teddy sat down dutifully and was about to place his feet on the
showman's desk when Phil nudged him.
"Now, sir, what does this mean?"
"What does what mean?  I never was any good at guessing riddles."
"What do you mean by eavesdropping at my cabin window?"
"Oh, was that your window?"
"It was and it is.  And unless you can offer a satisfactory
explanation, something will have to be done.  That is one of the
things that I shall not tolerate.  I can scarcely believe you
guilty of such a disgraceful act.  Unfortunately, you have
admitted it."
"Admitted what?"
"That you were listening at my window."
"I never said anything of the sort."
"No, not in so many words; but when I asked you what you meant by
doing so, you answered, 'Oh, was that your window?'"
"Certainly I said it."
"Then will you kindly explain why?"
"I wasn't listening at your window.  I wasn't within half a
block--half a boat, I mean--of it.  What do you think I am?"
"Well, Teddy, for a minute I thought you had been guilty of an
inexcusable act but upon second thought I begin to understand 
that it is impossible.  There is some misunderstanding here."
Phil looked relieved, but Teddy was gazing at the showman with
half-closed eyes.
"While Phil and myself were holding a confidential conversation
here, someone was listening to us under that window.  All at once
the blind fell with a crash--"
"And so did the other fellow," interrupted Teddy, his eyes
lighting up mischievously.
"Phil looked out quickly.  He thought he saw someone dodging into
the entrance aft, and at the same time he was sure someone was
doing the same thing forward."
"I was the fellow who dodged in the forward entrance.  Then you
fellows started a sprinting match with me."
"Why did you run?"
"Oh, I suppose I might as well tell you all about it."
"Yes, if we are to make any headway it will be best to let you
tell your story in your own way," answered Mr. Sparling with a
"I was halfway between here and the pilot house, sitting 
down on the deck, leaning against the side of the deck-house.  
I had just gone to sleep, at least I think I had, when I woke 
up suddenly.  I saw somebody down this way peeping in at 
a window.  I became curious.  I wondered if he was the fellow who
stole my egg, so I got up to investigate.  Just then he saw me."
"Well, what happened?"
"He was standing on a box.  The box tipped over or he jumped off,
I don't know which.  I thought he was chasing me, and I ran."
"Afraid, eh?" jeered Phil.
"No, I wasn't afraid.  I just ran because I needed the exercise;
that's all.  Do you think he really had my egg?"
"Who was the man, Teddy?"
"How do I know?"
"You saw him.  Could you not--did you not recognize him?"
"No, it was too dark.  I didn't wait long after I first
discovered him, you know.  I thought maybe it was that fellow
Cummings, laying for me.  I wish January had finished him
while he had the chance."
"You noticed nothing familiar about him?"
"Yes, I did."
"He looked like some kind of a man," answered Teddy solemnly.
"Oh, fudge!"
"You say he was standing on a box?"
"Something of the sort."
Mr. Sparling went out, leaving the boys alone for a few minutes. 
When he returned he brought with him a small square box which he
examined very carefully.
"Do you recognize it?" asked Phil.
"Yes, it is one in which the candy butcher received some goods. 
It might have been picked up by anyone.  I will find out where he
left it.  This may give us some slight clue.  It is quite
evident, boys, that we have among us one or more dangerous men. 
Teddy, I offer you my humble apology for having suspected you for
a moment.  The thought was unworthy."
"Don't mention it," answered the Circus Boy airily.
TEDDY JOINS THE BAND
"I would suggest that you divide the band into two parts and have
them play on deck as we approach the next stand," said Phil later
that evening.
"I think that a most excellent plan," decided Mr. Sparling. 
"We will work it whenever we get in after daylight.  It might
not be a bad idea to try it tomorrow morning.  I'll allow the
musicians overtime for it, so there should be no objection on
their part.  We will make a triumphal entry into Des Moines,
providing nothing happens to us in the meantime."
Mr. Sparling's face darkened as he thought of the dastardly
attempts that had been made against his young charges.
"I will see the leader before I turn in.  You had better go to
bed now, Phil.  You have been keeping pretty late hours and
working unusually hard.  Good night."
"Good night," answered Phil pleasantly.
Man and boy had come to be very fond of each other, and 
Phil Forrest could not have felt a more genuine affection 
for Mr. Sparling had the latter been his own father.
"A noble fellow," was Mr. Sparling's comment as the youth walked
away from the cabin.
At half-past three o'clock the next morning the boat's passengers
were awakened by the blare of brass, the crash of cymbals and the
boom of the big bass drum.
They tumbled out of bed in a hurry, for few of them knew of the
plan of the owner to give an early morning concert on the deck of
the "Fat Marie."
Teddy Tucker struck the floor of his cabin broadside on.
"Wake up, Phil!  We're late for the show.  It's already begun and
here we are in bed."
"Guess again, Teddy," answered Phil sleepily.  "Don't you know
where you are?"
"I thought I did, but I don't.  Where am I?"
"In our cabin on the ship."
"But the band, the band?"
"It is playing for the benefit of the natives along the shore."
"Oh, pooh!  And here I am wide awake.  Do you know what time
"It is only twenty minutes of four."
"In the afternoon?  Goodness we are late."
"No, in the morning, you ninny.  This is a shame.  I'll bet that
band concert was your suggestion, Phil Forrest."
Phil admitted the charge.
"Then you must take your medicine with the rest of us.  Come out
One of Phil's feet was peeping out from under the covers. 
Teddy saw it and grabbed it.  Being a strong boy, the mighty
tug he gave was productive of results.
Phil landed on his back on the floor, with a resounding thump and
a jolt that made him see stars.
"Teddy Tucker, look out; I'm coming!"
"You had better look out; I'm waiting."
The two supple-limbed youngsters met in the middle of the cabin
floor and went down together.  They were evenly matched, and
the muscles of their necks stood out like whip cords as they
struggled over the floor, each seeking to get a fall from 
his antagonist.
Teddy managed to roll under the bed, and there they continued
their early morning battle, but under no slight difficulties. 
Every time one of the gladiators forgot himself and raised his
head, he bumped it.  Phil tried to force Teddy out from under
the bed, but Teddy refused to be forced.
"When--when I get you out of here I am going to do something to
you that you won't like, Teddy Tucker," panted Phil.
"What--what you going to do to me?"
"I'm going to pour a pitcher of cold water on your bare feet."
The thought of it sent Teddy into a nervous chill.  He would
rather take a sound thrashing, at any time, than have that done
to him.  Now he struggled more desperately than ever to hold Phil
under the bed.  At last, however, the boys rolled out and Teddy's
shoulders struck the cabin floor with a bang that sent the
pitcher jingling in the wash bowl.
Phil sprang up, seized the water pitcher, making a threatening
move with it toward his companion.
"Wow!  Don't, don't!" howled Teddy.
Phil pursued him around the cabin, the water splashing from the
pitcher to the floor.  Teddy yelling like a wild Indian every
time he stepped in the puddles.
The window was open and the band was playing just outside.
Suddenly a new plan occurred to Teddy--a plan whereby he might
escape from his tormentor.
Taking a running start he sprang up, making a clean dive through
the window head-first.
The lad had intended to land on his hands, do a cartwheel and
come up easily on his feet.  But the best-laid plans sometimes
The bass drummer was pounding his drum right in line with
the window.  Teddy did not see the drum until too late to
change his course.  His head hit the drum with a bang.  
He went clear through it, his head protruding from the
other side.  And there he stuck!
"Oh, wow!" howled the Circus Boy.
The other members of the band, discovering that the drum was
no longer marking time for them, got out of tune and came to
a discordant stop.
The leader, whose side had been toward the drummer at the time,
did not know what had happened.  He was furious.  He was about
to upbraid them when he discovered the head of Teddy Tucker
protruding from the head of the drum.
"Wha--wha--what--"
The bass drummer paid no attention to him.  Instead he grabbed
the offending boy by the feet, bracing his own feet against the
rim of the instrument, and began to pull.  The drummer was red
in the face, perspiring and angry.
Teddy popped out like a pea from a pod.  The Circus Boy was not
yet out of his trouble.  With unlooked-for strength the irate
drummer threw the lad over his knees, face down, and raised the
drumstick aloft.
This drumstick, as our readers well know, is made of heavy
leather--that is the beating end is--and is hard.  To add to the
distress of the victim, Teddy was in his pink pajamas and they
The stick came down with more force than seemed necessary.
"Ouch!  Stop it!  I'll pay you back for keeps for that!"
"Oh, Phil!"  Teddy was making desperate efforts to squirm away
now, but his position was such that he was unable to bring his
full strength to bear on the task.
The stick was raised for another blow, but there came an
interruption that took all thought of continuing the punishment
out of the mind of the angry drummer.
"Stop it!  I don't want to be a drum!" howled the boy.
A pitcher of water was emptied over the drummer's head, a large
part of the water running down and soaking Teddy to the skin,
causing that young gentleman to howl lustily.
It gave the boy the opportunity he was looking for, however.  
With a quick twist he wrenched himself free from the grasp of the
drummer, dropped on all fours and was up and away, a pink streak
along the port side of the "Fat Marie."
Phil had come to the rescue of his companion.  He now jerked the
window shut and slammed the blind in place, after which he
quickly got into his clothes, fully expecting that he should have
a call from the bass drummer.
There was a great uproar on deck about that time, with much
shouting and unintelligible language--at least unintelligible
Before he had finished dressing, Teddy came skulking in, rubbing
himself and muttering threats as to what he proposed to do to 
the drummer.
"You did it!  You did!" he shouted, pointing a finger at
Phil Forrest.
"It strikes me that you did something, too--"
"No I didn't.  Something was done to me.  I had on my pajamas,
too," wailed the boy.  "I'm glad you soaked him, though.  
Why didn't you throw the pitcher at him, too?"
"Oh, no, it might have hurt him, Teddy."
"Hurt him?  Pshaw!  Maybe the drumstick didn't hurt me.  Oh, no!"
"Well, get dressed.  I will go out and see if I can pour oil on
the troubled waters.  You stay here.  I don't want you mixing it
up with the drummer.  I'll attend to him."
Phil first hunted up Mr. Sparling, whom he found shaving in
"Why good morning, Phil.  Why this early call?"
"I called to ask you what a new set of heads will cost for the
"I think they are worth about fifteen dollars.  Why do you ask?"
"Because Teddy and myself have just smashed the heads out of the
one belonging to the band."
Mr. Sparling paused in his shaving long enough to glance keenly 
at Phil.  There was a twinkle in his eyes.  He knew that his
Circus Boys had been up to some mischief.  Phil was as solemn as
"It was this way," explained the lad, as he related how the
accident had occurred.
Mr. Sparling sat down and laughed.
"Never mind the drum heads.  We have others for just such an
emergency, I do not mind a little fun once in a while.  We all
have to blow off steam sometimes."
"No, sir; we shall pay for the drum heads.  To whom does the 
drum belong?"
"The drummer, I think."
"Very well; thank you."
Phil hastily withdrew from the cabin and hurried back to his 
own stateroom.
"Teddy," he said, "I want seven-fifty from you."
"What's that?"
"Seven dollars and a half, please."
Teddy began pawing over his trousers.  All at once he paused,
looking up at Phil suspiciously.
"You want to borrow seven-fifty, do you?"
"No, I want you to contribute it."
"To the fund."
"What fund?  What are you talking about?"
"Those drum heads are worth fifteen dollars and we are going to
pay the owner of the drum for the damage we did.  I will give
half and you half."
"What!" shrieked Teddy.
"Come, pay up!"
"What!  Give that fellow money when he's taken more than twenty-
five dollars worth out of my hide?  I guess not!  What kind of an
easy mark do you think I am?  Pay him yourself.  You did it."
"Teddy, do you want me to give you a good thrashing, right here
"You can't do it.  You never could," returned 
Teddy, belligerently.
"Come, hand out the money!"
Teddy eyed his companion for a full minute; then, thrusting a
hand slowly into his own trousers' pocket, brought forth a goodly
roll of bills from which he counted off eight dollars.
"Tell him to keep the change."
"I will, thank you," said Phil with a merry twinkle in his eyes.
"It's like taking candy out of the mouth of a babe.  I'll get
more than eight dollars' worth out of that bass--he's baser than
he is bass.  Bass sounds like a fish, doesn't it--out of that
bass drummer when I get a good fair chance at him.  Sometime when
he isn't looking, you know.  I wonder if he could be the fellow
who stole my egg?" questioned Teddy reflectively.
Phil went out laughing, to make his peace with the drummer.
A CAPTURE IN THE AIR
Fortunately, the band carried a new set of heads for the drum, 
and the contribution of the boys served to restore the offended
musicians to good nature.  Teddy, however, was not appeased.  
That youngster vowed that he would take revenge on the bass
drummer at the very first opportunity.
That afternoon, during the performance, Teddy began his 
getting-even process by standing in front of the bandstand
between his acts, and making faces at the musicians.
This seemed to amuse them, and brought only smiles to
their faces.  Teddy was not there for the purpose of
amusing the band, so he turned his back on them and
tried to think of something more effective.
The show did a great business at Des Moines, having a "turn-away"
at both afternoon and evening performances.  The Sparling shows
had played there before, but never to such business, which the
showman decided was due to their novel way of traveling.  He knew
that these little novelties frequently made fortunes for 
Circus owners.
At the evening performance, Teddy had an inspiration.  He was
too busy, during the first part of the show, to give his idea a
practical test, but later in the evening, while he was awaiting
his cue to go on in his clown act, he tried the new plan.
The lad had purchased half a dozen lemons from the 
refreshment stand.  One of these he cut in halves, secreting
the pieces in a pocket of his clown costume; then when the
time came he stationed himself in front of the bandstand
where he stood until he had gained the attention of several
of the musicians.
Teddy took out the two pieces of lemon with a great flourish,
went through the motions of sprinkling sugar over them, then
began sucking first one piece, then the other, varying his
performance by holding out the lemon invitingly to the players.
The bass drum player scowled.  Teddy's lemon did not affect the
beating of the drum, but as the lad began to make believe that
the acid juice was puckering his lips, some of the musicians
showed signs of uneasiness.
The Circus Boy observing this, smacked his lips again and again,
and industriously swallowed the juice, though it nearly choked
him to do so.
Very soon some of the players got off the key, their playing grew
uneven and in some instances stopped altogether.  The leader
could not understand what the trouble was.  He called out angrily
to the offending musicians, but this seemed only to add to 
their troubles.
All at once the big German, who played the bass horn, rose from
his seat and hurled his music rack at the offending Teddy Tucker.
Everything on the bandstand came to a standstill, and the
performers in the ring glanced sharply down that way, wondering
what could have happened.
The leader turned and discovered Teddy and his lemons.  He was
beside himself with rage.  He understood, now, why his musicians
had failed.  Teddy sucking the lemon had given many of them 
"the puckers."
It was an old trick, but it worked as well as if it had been 
The Circus Boy was delighted.  The leader experienced no 
such sensations.  With an angry exclamation, he leaped from 
the box on which he was standing, aiming a blow at Teddy with 
The boy dodged it and ran laughing out into the ring, for it was
now time for him to go on in his next act.
After a minute or two the band once more collected itself and
the show went on, but there were dire threats uttered against
Teddy Tucker by the leader and players.  The bass drummer
grinned appreciatively.
"I wish I could think of something that would tie up that fellow
with the drum," muttered Teddy, gazing off at the drummer with
resentful eyes.
The band leader had no scruples against carrying tales, and
immediately after the performance he hunted up Mr. Sparling and
entered a complaint against the irrepressible Teddy.  The result
was that Teddy was given a severe lecture by the showman after
they got on board the boat that night.  Then Phil added 
"Well, what about yourself?" retorted the lad.
"I never stirred up as much roughhouse as you did this morning. 
You had better take some of that advice to yourself."
Phil laughed good-naturedly.
"I shall have to admit the impeachment," he said.
It seemed, however, as if the Sparling shows could not get 
along without exciting incidents happening at least once in
twenty-four hours.  They appeared to follow the Circus Boys, 
too, like a plague.  It is likely that, had they not followed 
the boys, Teddy Tucker would have gone out hunting for them.
The next morning something else occurred that was not a part of
the daily routine.  The boats were late and the next stand was
not yet in sight, so the band had not been called to work as
early as on the previous morning.  The bandsmen were just
rousing themselves, in response to raps on their cabin doors,
when they heard rapid footsteps on the deck, and excited shouts
from several voices.
Teddy and Phil awakened at about the same time, having been
disturbed by the unusual sounds.
"Now, what is the trouble?" exclaimed Phil.
"Something is going on, and here I am in bed," answered Teddy,
tumbling out and throwing open the blinds.
He saw nothing unusual.  The boat was slipping along, enveloped
in a cloud of black smoke.  The disturbance seemed to be on the
other side of the vessel.
"Come on, Phil.  Let's find out what it is all about. 
Maybe the boat has struck a rock and we are sinking. 
Wouldn't that be fun?"
"I don't see anything funny about that.  It would be serious, and
you and I would be out of a job for the rest of the season."
"Don't you care!  I have money.  Didn't I give you seven-fifty
yesterday and still have some left?"
"Eight," grinned Phil.
By this time the boys had hurried out into the corridor, and
thence to the deck.
"Well, what do you think of that?" howled Teddy.
"Bruiser is out," exclaimed Phil.
Bruiser was a baboon, whose temper was none too angelic.  He was
a big heavy fellow, who never lost an opportunity to vent his
temper on whoever chanced to be within reach.
It seems that on this particular occasion a sleepy keeper was
cleaning Bruiser's cage so that it might be neat and presentable
when the show opened.  Bruiser had sat on a trapeze far up in the
cage, watching the proceedings with resentful eyes, perhaps
wondering how he might administer a rebuke to the keeper.
All at once the baboon saw his opportunity.  The keeper had
stooped over to pick up something from the floor of the boat,
as he stood at the open door of the cage in the rear.
Bruiser projected himself toward the opening like a catapult.  
At that instant the keeper had straightened up and the baboon 
hit him squarely in the face.  There could be but one result.  
The keeper tumbled over on his back.
Chattering joyously, Bruiser began hopping off on all fours. 
First he investigated the tops of the cages, running over them
and bringing roars from the animals within.  Then he hopped down
and paid a visit to the horses.
January sent a volley of kicks at the beast, but Bruiser was too
quick, and the hoofs passed harmlessly over his head.
About this time the keeper had scrambled to his feet in alarm.  
At first he did not know where the baboon had gone, but hearing
the disturbance among the horses he ran that way, soon coming 
upon Bruiser.  With a scream of defiance, the animal bolted up 
the companionway, hurriedly investigated the corridors and the
main cabin, then leaped out through an open window to the
hurricane deck.
Two other men had joined in the chase now, and it was their
shouts that had awakened the Circus Boys.
"Come on, here's sport!" shouted Teddy Tucker starting on a run
after the fleeing Bruiser.  The latter tried to climb up the
smoke stack and narrowly missed being captured in the attempt. 
At the same time he burned his feet, filling him with rage and
resentment, so that, when the keeper grabbed him, the former's
face was badly scratched.
Round and round the deck ran pursued and pursuers, the baboon
having not the slightest difficulty in eluding his followers,
Teddy chasing gleefully and howling at the top of his 
shrill voice.
Others joined the chase, until well nigh half the boat's company
raced yelling up and down the decks.  Mr. Sparling was one of
the number, though he devoted most of his attention to directing
One mast had been erected on the boat from which to fly flags,
and from this rope braces ran off forward and aft.
Finally Bruiser was so hard pressed that he took to this rigging
and ran up one of the ropes to the mast, where he perched on the
end of a spar and appeared to mock his pursuers.
Poles were brought, at the direction of the owner, with which the
men sought to poke Bruiser down.  But the poles were too short. 
Then the men threw ropes and missiles at the baboon, most of
which went overboard and were lost.
"It is no use.  We shall have to wait until he gets ready to come
down," decided Mr. Sparling.  "How did he get away?"
The keeper explained.
"He won't come down today," added the man.  "That is, so long as
we are here.  He is a bad one."
"You do not have to tell me that.  Can any of you 
offer suggestions?  I am not very strong on capturing
escaped animals.  Phil, how about it?"
Phil shook his head.
"I have an idea, Mr. Sparling," spoke up Teddy.
"I knew you had, from the expression on your face.  What is it?"
"I'll climb up and shake him down."
A loud laugh greeted this remark.
"You couldn't climb up there.  The mast is too slippery."
"I'll show you."
"Very well; go ahead."
"Teddy, I think I would keep out of this, were I in your place,"
remarked Phil.
"You keep out of it yourself.  I'll show you that I know how 
to catch wild beasts.  I haven't ridden January all this time 
for nothing."
Teddy started in bravely to climb the mast.  After a great
struggle he managed to get up about eight feet.  Suddenly he
lost his grip and came sliding down, landing at the foot of
the mast in a heap.
A shout greeted his ludicrous drop.
"I think you had better give it up," laughed Mr. Sparling.
"I won't give it up."
"You cannot climb the mast."
"I don't intend to.  I have an idea."
"What is your idea?"
"I will show you.  Bring me a rope."
The rope was quickly handed to him.  The Circus Boy coiled
it neatly, closely observed by the show people, who did not
understand what he was about to do.
"I'm a sailor, you know," he grinned.  Measuring the distance
accurately, Teddy swung the coil about his head a few times,
then let it fly up into the air, keeping the free end in one
hand as he did so.
The coil tumbled over the yard or cross piece and came down,
hitting the deck with a thump.
"There.  Can you beat that?" he demanded triumphantly.
"Very well done," agreed Mr. Sparling.  "Now that it is over,
what do you propose to do next?"
The lad made fast one end of the rope to the ship's rail, the
baboon peering down suspiciously.
"Oh, I'm after you, you rascal," jeered Teddy, shaking a fist at
the ugly face above him.
After testing the rope, Teddy began climbing it hand over hand. 
Then the spectators divined his purpose.
"The boy is all right," nodded Mr. Sparling approvingly. 
"That is the time that he got the best of you, Phil."
"He is welcome to the job," answered Phil.  "You haven't captured
the baboon yet."
Teddy, by this time, was halfway up the mast.  It seemed a dizzy
climb, but the lad was so used to being up high that he did not
mind it in the least.
"Hey, down there!" he called.
"What is it?"
"Better get out a small net so you can catch him.  I'm going to
shake him down as I would a ripe apple.  If you catch him in the
net he will tangle himself up so that he cannot get away."
"That is a good idea," approved Mr. Sparling.  "Get the net, and
hold it in readiness."
Teddy, in the meantime, was working his way up.  After a time his
hands grasped the crossbar and he pulled himself up astride it,
waving one hand to those below him.
Bruiser, however, was not there.  The baboon had scrambled to the
top of the mast on which there was a golden ball, and on this he
perched some eight or nine feet above Teddy Tucker's head.
"Now where is your baboon?" called a voice.
"Where he cannot get away from me unless he jumps into the
Mississippi," answered Teddy quickly.
"How are you going to get him?" called Mr. Sparling.
"I'll see when I get to him."
With great caution, the lad climbed up the slender top of
Bruiser's tail hung over, while he clung with his feet, glaring
down at Teddy.  The baboon realized that he could not get away.
"Come down here!" commanded Teddy, grabbing the beast's tail and
giving it a mighty tug.
Bruiser's grip gave way.  Down shot Teddy and the baboon.  
But the cross-tree saved him, as the lad figured that it would. 
One hand was clinging to Bruiser's tail, the other arm thrown
about the mast.
Now, Bruiser took a hand.  With a snarl of rage he fastened
in the hair of Teddy Tucker's head, causing that young man
to howl lustily.
For a moment boy and baboon "mixed it up" at such a lively rate
that it was difficult for the spectators below to tell which was
boy and which baboon.  Teddy seemed to be getting the worst 
"Look out!  Let go of him!  You will be in the river the first
thing you know!" shouted Mr. Sparling warningly.
Teddy did not hear him.  He was too busy, at the moment, trying
to keep those savage teeth from fastening themselves in his neck,
for which the beast seemed to be aiming.  At the same time the
boy was getting more and more angry.  It was characteristic of
Teddy that, the angrier he became, the cooler he grew.
He was guarding himself as best he could and watching his chance
to get the upper hand of his antagonist.
All at once Teddy let drive a short-arm blow at the head of
Few things could withstand that blow, and least of all a baboon. 
It landed fairly on the grinning jaws and Bruiser's head jolted
backwards as if it were going right on into the river.
Teddy lost his balance, aided in this by the fact that Bruiser
had fastened to the lad's pajamas.
"They're going to fall!" roared Mr. Sparling.  "Catch them!  
Catch them!"
The men hastened to move the net, and none too soon, for Teddy
and Bruiser came whirling down, the lad making desperate efforts
to right himself so as to drop on his feet.  But the baboon
prevented his doing this.
They struck the net, which was jerked from the hands of the men,
and Teddy hit the deck with a terrific bump.
A CIRCUS BOY MISSING
"Grab the beast!"
Teddy was still clinging to the baboon so firmly that they had to
use force to get Bruiser away from him.
As for the baboon, he was too dazed from the shock of the fall
to offer any resistance, and was quickly captured and returned
to his cage.
Teddy had not fared quite so well.  He was unconscious, and for a
time it was feared that he had been seriously injured.
As it turned out, however, he had escaped with nothing worse than
a severe shock and a sprained wrist.  A sprain of any sort is
sufficient to lay up a circus performer for sometime.  As a
result of his injury, Teddy Tucker did not work again for the
next week; that is, he did not enter the ring, though he was
anxious to do so.  Mr. Sparling, however, would not permit it.
Those were glorious days for Teddy.  He could not keep away
from the circus lot.  He had plenty of time to think up new
ways of tormenting his enemies, some of which he applied from
time to time.  The boy was safe, however, for no one felt
inclined to punish a boy who was going around the outfit with
one arm helpless in a sling.
Perhaps Teddy Tucker took advantage of this fact.  At least, he
enjoyed himself and, besides, found plenty of time to hunt for 
his lost egg.  The boy was suspicious of everyone.  One time he
became firmly convinced that Mr. Sparling had taken it from him. 
The moment the idea occurred to him he hunted up the showman and
demanded to know if the latter had his egg.
"No," answered Mr. Sparling with a twinkle in his eyes, "but I
will try to arrange so you get another."
"Thank you; thank you."
"I am having the show's carpenter make one out of wood."
"I can't eat a wooden egg," protested Teddy.
"Why not?  You were going to eat the ostrich egg.  The wooden
one will give you indigestion no quicker than the other would
"I'll tell you what I will do," said the Circus Boy, an idea
suddenly occurring to him.
"I am listening."
"You have the carpenter make an egg and I will circulate the news
that I have another egg.  I will leave it in my cabin and keep
watch on the thing.  In that way I shall catch the fellow, if he
tries to steal it again.  I shan't put it in the trunk.  Oh, I'll
talk a lot about that wooden egg."
"I am in hopes we shall hear no more about eggs all the rest
of the trip, after I give you another," said the showman. 
"Your idea is not a half-bad one at that.  If you catch the
man we are looking for I will make you a nice present."
"What kind of a present?" asked Teddy with an eye to business.
"What would you like?"
"I'll have to think it over.  There are so many things I want,
that I do not know which I want most."
"I thought you had money enough to buy whatever you needed.  
By the way, how much money have you saved, Teddy?"
"Let me see," reflected the lad, counting up on his fingers. 
"Why, I must have a little more than three thousand dollars in
the bank.  Mrs. Cahill is taking care of it for me, you know."
"Fine, fine!  That is splendid.  What are you going to do with
all of that money?"
"I think I will buy out the Sparling shows, someday, when you get
tired of the business and want to sell at any old price,"
answered the boy boldly.
The showman laughed heartily.
"So you think you would like to own a show, do you?"
"Yes, sir, I am going to--Phil and I."
"May I ask when this interesting affair is coming off--this
purchasing of a real circus?"
"I told you.  When you get tired of the business we are going to
buy you out."
"You have it planned, eh?"
"Yes, sir; that is, I have.  Phil doesn't know anything about 
that yet.  I haven't told him."
"I thought not.  So, while I am paying you to work for me, you 
are planning to take my show away from me, are you?" questioned
Mr. Sparling with a smile.
"No, Sir; we are not trying to do anything of the sort.  You have
been too kind, and I thank you for all you have done for me, 
and--and all you have put up with.  You ought to have 'fired' 
me a long time ago--I guess you ought to have done it before I
started in the Show business.  I'm glad you didn't," added Teddy,
glancing up with a bright smile.
It was the first time Mr. Sparling had ever heard the little
Circus Boy express his appreciation.  He patted the 
lad affectionately.
"I hope you are feeling quite well, today, my boy.  You never
talked this way before.  What caused your sudden change 
"I--I guess it was the baboon," answered Teddy whimsically. 
"Or else, maybe, it was the bump I got when I hit the deck
of the 'Fat Marie.'"
Phil came up and joined them at that moment, waiting for his
turn to go on in his trapeze act for the evening performance. 
Mr. Sparling surveyed him keenly.  He noted the trim, athletic
figure, the poise of the head and the steady clear eyes that
held one irresistibly.
"You are looking very handsome tonight, Phil," said the owner.
"Thank you, sir.  'Handsome is as handsome does,' as the saying
goes," laughed the Circus Boy.  "Are you having the net watched,
Mr. Sparling?"
"Yes, my lad.  Two men are keeping close tab on the big spider
web all the time, except in the afternoon, when no one would dare
to tamper with it for fear of being detected."
"I am not so sure of that.  You see, I have a personal interest
in that net, seeing that I have to risk my bones over it twice
"Don't worry.  It will be well watched, Phil."
"I take the first drop in it, you know, so if it should give way
you would be minus Phil Forrest."
"Teddy tells me you and he are thinking of buying out the
Sparling shows, eh?"
"Why, Teddy, how could you say such a thing?" demanded
Phil, reddening.
Teddy expostulated, explaining that it was merely a dream in his
own mind, repeating that Phil knew nothing of it.
"I do intend to own a show, as I have told you before, 
Mr. Sparling, as soon as I have enough money.  I am afraid,
however, that that day is a long way off."
"Perhaps not so far off as you think, Phil.  Perhaps both of 
you may own a show much sooner than you even dream," said the 
showman, significantly.  "Well, good night, boys if I do not 
see you again."
"What do you think he meant by that?" questioned Teddy.
"I am sure I do not know.  Perhaps he thinks we have a future
before us and that we shall make rapid advances.  I hope so,
don't you, Teddy?"
"I think I would rather find my egg than have most anything else
"Oh, hang your egg!  There goes my cue.  I must get out, now. 
Bye, bye.  You are a lucky boy not to have to work on this 
Phil waved his hand and tripped out into the arena.  A few
minutes later he was soaring through the air with the
gracefulness and ease of a bird on the wing.
The boys did not meet again until bedtime, for Phil had turned
in immediately upon reaching the boat.  Teddy, of course, was
the last one to go to bed, but he was soon asleep after
reaching there.
Phil, on the contrary, had lain awake for some hours, thinking. 
He was still seeking a solution to the mystery that had been
disturbing them almost from the beginning of the season.  
Twice had an effort been made to do him serious injury at least. 
Who could have taken so violent a dislike to him as to wish to
cause his death?  There seemed to be no answer to the question.
"I can think of no one, unless it is Diaz," muttered the boy. 
"Yet he surely was not one of those who were plotting out on the
lot that night.  He would not have had time to get back to the
boat ahead of me.  Then again, Teddy was sure that the clown had
been back for more than an hour.  He may have had something to do
with laying the trap in the ring for Dimples and myself."
"I am afraid I am not on the right track at all," decided Phil
at last, with a deep sigh.
He was still awake when the "Fat Marie" shook off her moorings
and with a long blast of her siren, drifted out into the stream
and began pounding down the river.
Phil got up, stretched himself, looked out of the window, then
decided to go on deck to get the breeze, for the heat was
stifling in his stateroom.  Teddy was sound asleep.
The deck seemed to be deserted.  Phil walked over to the rail and
leaning both elbows upon it closed his eyes dreamily.
It must have been fully an hour later when Teddy awakened
suddenly, with a foreboding that something was not as it
"Phil!" he called.
There was no reply.
"_Phil!_" repeated Teddy in a louder tone.
Failing to get a response, Teddy arose and found his companion's
bed empty.  Teddy, knowing that Phil seldom ever left the
stateroom after retiring, decided to go out to look for him.  
He investigated the cabin, then going out on dock peered into
every shadow, calling softly for Phil.
Failing to get any trace of his chum, Teddy returned to his
cabin, put on his slippers and went down to the lower deck, where
he made inquiries of the watchman, but with no better success.
Teddy Tucker began to feel alarmed.  He hurried to the upper deck
again, once more going over it carefully, as well as the inside
of the boat.
A terrible suspicion began to force itself upon him.
"Man overboard!" bellowed the Circus Boy.  "Man overboard!" 
He ran through the corridors shouting the startling cry, then
out to the deck repeating it as he ran.
The cry was taken up by others as they rushed from their cabins,
Mr. Sparling among the number.
"Where, where?" shouted the showman.  "Who--who--"
"It's Phil!  He's gone.  He's over there, somewhere, I don't 
know where!"
CHAPTER XXII
OVERBOARD INTO THE RIVER
"I can't understand it," Phil mused, as the soft evening breezes
lulled him into slumber.
"What!  What!" he cried suddenly.  "What is it?  I'm falling!"
The deck of the "Marie" all at once seemed to have dropped from
beneath him.  He felt himself falling through space.  What could
With the showman's instinct the Circus Boy quickly turned his
body, spread out his hands and righted himself.
The night was black, and as yet he had not succeeded in
collecting his senses sufficiently to decide what had happened. 
He knew that he was falling, but that was all.
There was a sudden splash as his body struck the water.  
Phil shot right down beneath it and the waters of the
Mississippi closed over him.
He understood then what had happened, but not for an instant did
he lose his presence of mind.  Phil had caught his breath as his
feet touched the water, and now that he had sunk beneath the
surface he began to kick vigorously and work his hands to check
his downward course.
A moment of this and he felt himself rising toward the surface. 
Phil was as good a swimmer as he was a performer in the circus
ring, and he felt no nervousness, even though his position at
that moment was a perilous one.
Almost at once he felt his head above the surface of the river,
but his eyes were so full of muddy water that he could see
nothing at all.  Instead of trying to swim, Phil lay over on his
back, floated and began blinking industriously to get the water
out of his eyes.  He soon found that he could see once more,
though at that moment there was nothing to be seen in the
blackness of the night.
"There's the 'Marie,'" he cried.  Phil raised his voice in a good
lusty howl for help, but none heard him.  He could see the lights
of the steamboat and they appeared to be far away.
"There is only one thing left for me to do, and that is to strike
out for the shore.  I wonder which way the shore is?"
Once more he raised himself in the water, for an instant, and
gazed toward the rapidly disappearing lights of the 'Marie.'
"She is going downstream, so if I swim to the left I should reach
shore after a while," decided the lad.
He did not know that the boat had in the meantime made a sharp
turn to her right and that in turning to the left he would be
swimming downstream, making his attempt to reach shore a
difficult one indeed.
The lad struck out manfully, swimming with long, easy strokes,
aided considerably by the current which was sweeping him
downstream much faster than he thought.
"I'm glad I have only my pajamas on," decided the lad.  "If I 
had all my clothes on I fear I should have a pretty tough fight. 
It's bad enough as it is."
Talking to himself, in order to keep up his courage, he swam
steadily on, now and then pausing to swim on his back to
rest himself.  He had gone on for nearly an hour when the
lad began to wonder why he had not reached shore.
"Surely the river cannot be so wide at this point.  I must have
drifted downstream considerably.  Perhaps I haven't been going in
the right direction at all."
He tried to find out which way the drift was, in order to make
up his mind as to the direction in which the shore lay.  In the
darkness, however, he was unable to determine this, so he began
swimming again, trusting to luck to land him on something solid,
sooner or later.  He knew that this must occur, but whether his
strength would hold out that long he could not say.
All at once he caught a peculiar drumming sound.  It reminded him
of a partridge that he had once heard in the woods, but it seemed
a long way off and he could not identify it.
"I guess it must be my heart, up somewhere near my mouth, that I
hear," said the boy with a short mindless laugh.  "Maybe I am
going to pieces.  If I am I deserve to drown."
About that time Phil decided to turn over on his back and rest
for a moment.
The instant he did so he uttered a sharp exclamation.  His eyes
caught sight of something that he had not seen before.  It looked
to him like some giant shadow, from which twinkled hundreds 
"It is the 'Marie'!" cried the boy.  "They are coming back
for me.  No, no, it cannot be the 'Marie,' for this boat
is coming from the opposite direction.  Yes, it surely is
a steamboat!"
Though Phil did not know it, this was one of the big river
packets bound down the river from St. Louis.
"I must get out of the way, or they will run me down, but I want
to keep close enough so I can hail them.  I hope this is where I
get on something solid again."
A few minutes of steady swimming appeared to have taken him out
of the path of the river boat.  Then Phil rested, lying on his
back, watching the boat narrowly.
"In almost any other position or place, I might think that was a
pretty sight.  As matters stand, now, it looks dangerous to me."
His position was more perilous at that moment than he
even dreamed.
"H-e-l-p!  H-e-l-p!" called Phil, in what he thought was a
There were no indications that his cry had been heard by those
on board the steamboat.  He tried it again, but with no better
success than before.
"I have simply got to keep on yelling my lungs out until I
attract their attention.  I am afraid I shall never reach shore
unless I am picked up.  I might be able to keep afloat until
daylight, but I doubt it.  I shall get so chilled, before then,
that I shall have to give up.  I've got some fight left in me
yet, just the same."
"A-h-o-y, boat!  _Help!_"
On came the steamer, steadily.
Suddenly Phil discovered something else.  She had changed 
her course.  The boat seemed to be drawing away from him!  
His heart sank, but almost at once, the boat turned again,
following the tortuous channel of the stream.
She now was sweeping almost directly down upon him.  He heard
some call on the upper deck.
"They are going to run me down!" he gasped.
Phil threw all his strength into an effort to swim out of the
path of the swiftly moving boat, but he feared he would not be
able to clear her.
The lad uttered a loud shout, then dived deep, coming up at once
only to find himself almost against the side of the moving craft.
He grabbed frantically, hoping that his hands might come in
contact with some projection to which he could cling, but the
slippery sides of the hull slid past him at what seemed almost
express train speed.
He was almost on the point of diving again to get away from the
dangerous spot, when suddenly, his fingers closed over something.
It was a rope, one of the hawsers that had not been fully hauled
in when the boat left the last landing place some miles up 
With a glad cry, both the lad's hands closed over the 
precious rope.  His joy was short lived.  He found himself
dropping back, the river craft still gliding past him.
The rope was paying out over the boat's side in his hands.
Phil Forrest was never more cool in his life, but he now began 
to realize the well-nigh hopeless position in which be found
himself placed.
Suddenly the rope ceased paying out with an abruptness that
jerked him clear out of the water.  He fell back with a splash,
all but losing hold of the rope as he did so.
"I've got it!  I've got it!" exulted the lad.  A rush of water
filled his mouth, almost suffocating him.
"I guess I had better keep my mouth closed," thought the boy.
He was directly astern of the steamboat by this time, and this
placed him in a much more favorable position than he had been
while dragging along at the side.
Phil began resolutely to work himself along the rope hand 
over hand.  It was a desperate undertaking, one calling for
strength and courage of an unusual kind, but he never hesitated. 
His breath came in long, steady, sighs, for he was going though
the water at such a rate of speed that breathing was made 
doubly difficult.
"It is a good thing I am a circus performer.  I should probably
have been at the bottom of the river long ago, had I not been a
At last, after what seemed hours of struggling, he had succeeded
in working his way past the stern paddle wheel, and up under the
stern of the ship.  He twisted the rope about one arm, and with
his head well out of water lay half exhausted while he was shot
through the water at high speed.
A few minutes of this, and Phil, considerably rested, began to
pull himself up.
Ordinarily this hand over hand climb would have been an easy feat
for the Circus Boy.  As it was, however, the lad was forced to
pause every foot or so, and, twisting the rope about an arm and a
leg, hang there between sky and water, gasping for breath, every
nerve and muscle in his body a-quiver.
Few men, no matter how strong nor how great their endurance,
could have gone through what Phil Forest had endured that night.
He was glad to be out of the water, where he was in imminent
danger of being drowned as the boat jerked him along.  Of course
he was not obliged to cling to the rope, but the chances of his
reaching shore, were he to let go, he felt were very remote.
"I am glad Teddy is not here," muttered Phil with a half smile
as he thought of his companion back on the "Marie" fast asleep. 
"I wonder what he will think when he finds that I am missing? 
I hope they do not turn about and come back to look for me, for
I hardly think they will be able to do that and make their next
stand in time."
Once more the lad began pulling himself up the rope.  At last,
to his great relief, his fingers closed over the stern rail of
the river boat.  Phil pulled himself up as if he were chinning
the bar, though in this case he chinned it only once.
Elbows were braced on the rail, then the right leg was thrown
over and Phil Forrest was high and dry on the deck of a great
river steamer, after an experience that perhaps never had
befallen a human being on the Mississippi before.
He found himself standing face to face with an officer of the
boat, who proved to be the mate.  The man was so astonished at
the dripping figure that had come over the stern, that, for the
moment, he did not speak.
"Good evening," greeted Phil politely.
"Who are you?" demanded the mate sternly.
"I guess I am Old Neptune himself.  Maybe I am a mermaid. 
At least I have just risen from the sea, and mighty glad
I am that I have risen."
The officer seized Phil.  Leading the boy to where the light
shone from the main cabin window, he peered into the lad's face. 
Evidently fairly well satisfied by his brief glance into the
honest eyes of the Circus Boy, the officer quickly turned and
led Phil to the forward end of the boat, where he summoned the
captain, who was lying down in the pilot house.
"What's this?  Whom have you here?"
"I don't know, sir," answered the officer.  "He came over the
side half a mile above here."
"What--what's this--came over the side?"
"Impossible!"
"I saw him.  I was standing astern when he climbed over
"See here, young man, what does this mean?"
"I fell from a boat, sir, further up the river.  I was trying to
swim ashore when you nearly ran me down.  You see, I did not know
you were going to make that sharp turn and I did not have time to
get out of the way."
"That is not a likely story, young man.  How did you get aboard
this boat?  That is what I want to know."
Phil explained that he had caught hold of a rope.
"Is there a rope trailing, mate?"
"I don't know, sir."
The mate returned a few moments later with the information that a
hawser was dragging astern.
"Wonderful!" breathed the captain.  "How did you ever do it, and
you only a boy?"
"I am pretty strong, even if I am a boy," smiled Phil.
"What is your name?"
Phil gave it.
"How did you happen to get in the river?"
"I told you I fell in, or something of the sort, from the
'Fat Marie.'"
"Never heard of her."
"I think she was called the 'Mary Jane.'"
"Oh, that's that circus boat--the Sparling Circus?"
"Do you belong to the circus?"
"Yes.  I am a bareback rider and a trapeze performer."
Both men gazed at him with new interest.
"Well, you beat anything that I ever heard of.  You certainly
must be a performer if you did a thing like that.  I remember the
pilot's telling me he thought he heard someone cry out from the
river, but as the call was not repeated, he thought he must have
been mistaken.  Come in, and we will put you to bed."
"I have no money with me, sir," said the lad.  "If you will
extend the courtesies of your craft to me, I will see that you
are well paid after I reach my show once more."
"We will take care of you.  Never mind about the pay."
"By the way, where is your next landing place?"
Phil gave a low whistle.
"Where do you want to go?"
"Corinth, I believe is the stand we show at tomorrow."
"That's not far from Memphis.  We will land you at Memphis 
in the morning and you can take a train back, getting you to
Corinth in plenty of time for your show.  I will see that you
have a ticket."
"Thank you ever so much.  You are very kind."
The Circus Boy was put to bed and in a few minutes he was sound
asleep, thus far not much the worse for his thrilling experience,
though he was completely exhausted, as he realized after he had
tucked himself in his berth.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE ROMAN CHARIOT RACES
It was late when the Circus Boy awoke next morning.  A steward
rapped at the door and a suit of officer's clothes, brass buttons
and all was handed in to him.
"With the captain's compliments, sir," said the steward. 
"He hopes it will fit you.  When you are ready, you will
please come to the saloon for breakfast."
"Thank the captain for me, and say that I can't get there any
too soon," laughed Phil, springing out of bed.
The passengers had all heard the remarkable tale from the captain
that morning, and they were anxious to see the young Circus Boy
who had performed such a plucky act.
Phil entered the dining room, not thinking for a minute that he
would be recognized.  When the passengers saw the handsome young
fellow in an officer's uniform, they knew him.  Everyone in the
room sprang to his feet and three cheers rang out for 
Phil Forrest.
"Speech, speech!" cried someone.
Blushing faintly, Phil glanced about him.
"You cannot expect a boy to make much of a speech before
breakfast, especially after he has been swimming most of 
the night.  I don't know that I am entitled to any 
special credit.  I saved only my own life, and I do not 
expect to get a medal for it, either.  I hope all of you 
will visit the Great Sparling Shows at the first opportunity. 
Then I shall try to entertain you in a way that I understand 
far better than this.  I'm very much obliged to you all."
Then Phil sat down.  The passengers gave him another cheer,
louder and more enthusiastic than the first.  Mr. Sparling would
have been proud of the lad could he have heard that speech.  
Phil lost no opportunity to advertise the Sparling shows, and
every passenger on the boat, that morning, made up his mind to
visit the show ere another week had passed.
All the rest of the morning Phil was a hero in the eyes of the
passengers, who followed him wherever he went, asking questions
about his experience in the river, and how he had happened to
fall in, as well as numerous questions about the life of a 
With regard to his accident, Phil had little to say.  He seemed
to wish to avoid discussing the falling-in matter, but his face
took on a serious expression when it was referred to.
At last Memphis was sighted.  Phil arranged with the captain
to return the uniform, which he promised to send to St. Louis,
so that his benefactor could get it on the return trip.
As the craft began drawing in toward the dock, the Circus Boy
bade all the passengers good-bye, everyone of whom insisted on
shaking hands with him.
Phil walked off, the passengers giving him three cheers as he
stepped over the gangplank to the dock.  Before he had reached
the end of it, he was overtaken by a reporter who had just heard
of Phil's feat and wished an interview.
At first Phil was reluctant to speak.
"I think it will be a good advertisement for the show," he said 
to himself.  So the Circus Boy related, modestly, the story 
of his experience in the river and of his rescue of himself; not
forgetting to say some pleasant things about the Sparling shows,
which would visit Memphis two days hence.  That afternoon he saw
his story set forth in the Memphis newspaper.  He bought two
papers, one of which he tucked in his pocket, sending the other
to Mrs. Cahill, his guardian.  His next move was to start for the
station, to take a train for Corinth.  He was already too late to
reach that town in time for the afternoon performance, but he had
wired Mr. Sparling that he was safe.
As it happened the lad reached the show grounds before his
message had been delivered.  Mr. Sparling, well nigh beside
himself with worry, had telegraphed to all points passed by their
boats, begging that neither effort nor expense be spared to find
his Circus Boy.
The showman was standing in front of his office tent, that
afternoon, at about three o'clock, his broad-brimmed slouch hat
pulled well down over his eyes, his hands thrust deep in his
trousers pockets.
Off under the big top the band was playing a lively tune, 
and the side-show people were out in front sunning themselves,
all discussing Phil Forrest's mysterious disappearance.
After a short time, Mr. Sparling espied a young man in uniform
coming on the lot.  He did not pay much attention to the
stranger, thinking the fellow was a police officer or something
of the sort.
As the young man drew nearer, however, the showman thought he
noted something familiar in the springy step and the poise of
"Now, who is that?" he muttered.  "Somehow I seem to know 
that youngster."
Others about the main entrance were also looking in his direction
about that time.  Still no one seemed to recognize the young man.
All at once the showman tilted up the rim of his hat and gazed
more keenly.
"Phil!" he shouted, casting the hat aside and running forward
with outstretched arms.  "It's Phil, it's Phil Forrest!"
A moment more and Mr. James Sparling had clasped his little
Circus Boy about the waist, hugging him delightedly.  There was a
suspicious moisture in the eyes of the showman, which he sought
to hide from Phil.
"Phil!  Phil!  Where have you been?" he cried leading the boy
toward the office tent.  "And that uniform--what does it mean?"
"I will tell you all about it as soon as I get my breath,"
laughed the lad.
By this time the others out in front had hurried forward,
showering questions upon the boy, all of which he answered
without giving very much information.  He wished to talk with
Mr. Sparling first of all.
"Where is Teddy?" was almost his first question.
"He is in the big top at work."
"I presume he was considerably excited when he missed me, was
"Yes, at first, but since then he has not said much.  Teddy is
a queer boy."
The word was quickly passed that Phil had returned safe and
sound, and ten minutes after his arrival every man and woman
in the show had heard the news.  There was great rejoicing.
Teddy was going through his clown act when he first heard the
rumor that Phil was back.  Teddy waited until he had worked
around to the entrance to the menagerie tent when he suddenly
darted through, leaving his work and the ring, a most serious
breach of discipline.  Teddy, however, did not care.  He was
willing to be fined.  He bolted through the main entrance like
a miniature tornado, to the amazement of the door tenders.
"Where's Phil?" he shouted.
One of the doormen pointed to Mr. Sparling's office tent.
The little clown was off on a run.
"Hey, Phil, you old rascal!  Where have you been?" he demanded,
dashing into the small tent.
"I have been out for a swim, old fellow.  Did you miss me?"
"I nearly broke my neck thinking about you this afternoon. 
Landed on my head in the leaping act, and I've got a pain
in my neck yet."
"Young man, what are you doing here?" demanded the
showman, sternly.
"Same thing you are.  Seeing Phil."
"Get back to your act!"
"I'm off.  I'll see you later, Phil, then we will talk it over."
"We will, Teddy," and Teddy was off at top speed to take
up his performance where he had so abruptly left it a few
minutes before.  The ringmaster had not missed him, though
he saw at once that the boy was not on his station, when
Teddy began to work again.
"Now, Phil, we will hear all about it.  How in the name of the
Sparling shows did you get into that uniform?"
"The captain of the river boat that picked me up fitted me out."
"So you really fell in?"
"I got _in,_ right."
"Tell me all about it."
The Circus Boy related his experiences from the time he found
himself in the river, until his arrival in Memphis that morning.
"Marvelous--almost unbelievable," breathed Mr. Sparling as the
tale was unfolded.  "I never heard anything to compare with it."
When Phil told of his speech in the dining saloon of the river
steamboat, Mr. Sparling leaned back with hands on his hips,
laughing immoderately.
"Oh, Phil, you are the sort from which great showmen are made!"
Phil handed over the Memphis paper with the account of his
experience, which the showman glanced over briefly.
"That will give us another turn-away in Memphis.  You can't stop
them, after that.  They will come to the show even if they have
to fight their way in.  That was a great stroke of enterprise,
but I would rather it had not happened, of course."
"What--the interview?"
"No, of course not.  I mean your accident."
"It is all right, Mr. Sparling.  I am here now, and none the 
worse for my bath, but for a time I surely thought I was a goner.
I would not care to go through that experience again."
"I should say not.  Yours was the most wonderful escape I ever
heard of.  I'll wager there was never anything like it before on
this river."
Mr. Sparling paused suddenly and bent a keen, searching glance on
Phil Forrest's face.  The lad felt that he knew what was in the
mind of his employer.
"You have not told me everything, yet."
"What makes you think that, Mr. Sparling?"
"Because I know you so well.  There is something on your mind
that you have not told me.  I want to know what it is."
Phil's eyes were lowered to the green grass at his feet.  For a
moment he was silent and thoughtful.
"What is it you wish me to tell you, Mr. Sparling?" he asked in a
"You have not given me a satisfactory explanation of how you came
to get into the river."
"Perhaps I fell in," answered the lad with a faint smile.
"Perhaps.  But you have not said so.  I want you to tell me how
you did get in."
"I think I was thrown in, Mr. Sparling," answered the 
Circus Boy quickly.
"Thrown in!" exclaimed the showman, leaping to his feet, his face
working convulsively in his effort to control his emotions.  
"Phil Forrest, do you mean that?"
Mr. Sparling sat down helplessly.
"Is it possible?"
"I am sure of it, sir."
"Had anyone but you told me that I should have laughed.  I know
I can depend upon what you say.  Tell me more about it?"
"As I have already said, I was leaning on the rail and dropped
off into a doze.  How long I had been in that position I do
not know.  I could not have been there many minutes, or I
should have gone so soundly asleep that I would have fallen
over to the deck, you know."
"All at once I felt myself being lifted.  At first, as I remember
it, the sensation was as if the deck were dropping from under me.
As I recalled the incident afterwards, I realized that I had 
been lifted.  You know all that occurred after that."
"Was there more than one who threw you overboard?"
"I am unable to say.  I did not even see one," said Phil with 
a half-smile.  "I felt myself being lifted--that's all.  The next
minute I was in the river, with the 'Marie' pounding away
downstream at a lively clip."
"Dastardly!  Dastardly!" growled the showman.  "I shall send for 
a detective to meet us in Memphis tomorrow.  This thing has gone
far enough."
"I think I agree with you, sir," was Phil's half-humorous answer.
"But I had been in hopes of solving this mystery myself."
"Yes, and you came near losing your life as the result.  
No, sir!  This thing must be cleared up at once.  I shall wire to
St. Louis now, and we will have a man with us sometime tomorrow.
Say nothing to anyone of my plan.  The detective will join 
the show in some capacity or other, and have regular duties 
to perform.  You will know him, but no one else will 
except myself.  I think the Roman races are about due under the
big top now.  Suppose you go in and change your clothes, joining
me at my table after you come out.  We will talk these matters
over at length this evening.  When the officer reaches here I
shall expect you to tell him freely all that you know as well 
as what you suspect.  Keep nothing from him.  Run along, Phil.  
I want to think this matter over by myself for a few minutes."
As Phil entered the big top the Roman races were just coming on. 
The chariot drivers, with their prancing steeds, had entered 
Phil paused to wait until the fast and furious races were over. 
The leading woman chariot driver was trying out a new three-horse
team; that is, two of the horses were new to the work, the third,
being an old hand.  The new animals were spirited, and after the
first round of the arena, Phil saw that they were nervous.
"I am afraid she is going to have trouble with that pair,"
muttered Phil with a shake of his head.  "If she can keep them
up to the mark, they will outrun anything in the show today."
The new team fairly tore around the arena.  They won the first
races easily, then lined up in the center to await the finals
which were to follow a few minutes later.
The ringmaster's whistle trilled for the successful drivers to
swing out into the concourse.  They were driving furiously,
almost before the echoes of the whistle had died away.
Making the turn at the lower end of the track in safety, the two
teams in the race squared away down the home stretch.  All at
once Phil saw that something was wrong.  The leading chariot was
swaying dizzily, and the driver was trying with all her strength
to pull the plunging animals down.
Suddenly the wheel on the inner side slipped from its axle and
went rolling off into the center of the arena.  The axle dropped
to the turf, caught, then turned the chariot bottom side up.
The woman driver was hurled off into the center in the wake of
the careening wheel, landing on her head and shoulders beside the
center platform.
The team did not stop, however.  It started directly across the
arena, in a diagonal course.
"She is hurt!" cried Phil.  "Somebody will be killed unless that
wild team is stopped!"
Giving no thought to the danger to himself, Phil Forrest darted
across the arena and leaped for the bridles of the plunging,
frightened animals.
CHAPTER XXIV
It seemed a foolhardy thing to do, but Phil understood exactly
how to go about it.  If he were able to turn the team, he would
undoubtedly save them from plunging into the seats where hundreds
of people were sitting.  A trained circus horse always will avoid
the spectators, but there is no accounting for what a green
animal will do.
Grasping the bit of the animal nearest to him, Phil threw his
whole weight into the effort.  To his intense satisfaction the
team swerved, half turned and dashed across the arena again.  
This time, however, they did not go far.  The outfit smashed into
the main center pole, and Phil went on, sitting down violently in
the middle of the concourse, unhurt, but more or less shaken up.
By that time ring attendants had caught the frightened horses. 
All danger was over.
Phil Forrest was loudly cheered by the spectators, but his
borrowed officer's uniform was a hopeless wreck.  It was torn
beyond any possibility of repair.
Upon investigation, which Phil made at once, he found that the
cap that held the chariot wheel in place, had been removed. 
No trace of it ever was found, and Phil well knew that the
mysterious enemy was once more at work.  The news was conveyed
to Mr. Sparling, with the information that Phil had gleaned.
He also bore the unwelcome tidings to his employer that their
leading woman chariot driver had broken both arms and that she
would not perform again that season, if ever again.
Mr. Sparling was so angered over this latest outrage that he was
scarcely able to control himself.  Yet he knew that it would be
best to maintain silence until the detective had had an
opportunity to make an investigation.  Some of the circus people,
however, had voiced a suspicion that the accident was a
deliberate attempt to do the show an injury, and this was quickly
passed from lip to lip, until almost everyone had heard it.  
The show people accepted the situation quietly, as was their
wont, nevertheless they were very much excited.  There was no
telling when they themselves might fall victims to the mysterious
enemy, and each one vowed to run down the scoundrel who they knew
must be a member of the circus family.
Phil made some guarded inquiries, but was unable to learn
whether or not anyone had been observed about the chariots 
that day.  The hub cap, of course, might have been removed
while the chariots were still on the boat, but in that event
its loss would no doubt have been noticed, for the caps were
of brass, large and prominent.
Phil decided that the act must have been committed just before
the chariots were driven into the arena for the Roman races.
In this, Phil Forrest was right.
The solution of the mystery was at hand, however, and was to come
in a most unexpected manner.
Supper had been eaten, and most of the performers were out on
the lot, enjoying the balmy air of the early evening for the few
moments left to them before they would be obliged to repair to
the dressing tent to make ready for the evening performance.
Phil decided to go in, after finishing a talk with Mr. Sparling
in the latter's private tent.  As the lad passed through the
menagerie tent the attendants were lighting the gasoline lamps
there and hauling them up the center poles.
Under the big top, however, one could not see half its length.  
The lights there would not be turned on for fifteen or twenty
minutes yet.  Not a person was in sight as Phil entered the tent,
making his way slowly down the concourse.  He paused half-way
down, seating himself on a grandstand chair in one of the arena
boxes, where he thought over the latest exploit of the 
show's enemy.
"This time they were not after me, but after the outfit itself,"
he muttered.  "That is the time the fellow showed his hand, and
it gives me an idea.  I--hello, there is someone who acts as if
he did not wish to be seen."
Phil sat still and watched.  Someone had slipped in under the
tent down at the other end, directly across the arena from where
the bandstand was located.  It had now become so dark in the tent
that Phil could not make out the fellow's features.  In fact, the
man was a mere shadow.
"I wonder what he is doing there?"
Then a thought struck Phil Forrest like a blow.
"That's where they put the big net between performances."
Phil crept down into the arena and made his way back to the
entrance to the menagerie tent, where he quickly slipped out 
into the open and ran down along the outside of the big top 
at his best speed.  As he drew near the spot where he had seen 
the man, he moved cautiously.
Finally Phil dropped down and peered under the tent.  He was less
than ten feet from where the fellow was at work.  The Circus Boy
could catch a "rip, rip" now and then.
"The fiend is cutting the net," he muttered.  "I wonder who 
he is.  Ah, I know him now!  He is one of the tent men.  I never
thought he was in this thing.  I must catch him--I must make the
attempt, for he may get away.  I don't even know the fellow's
name, nor do I understand his enmity toward the show or myself."
Phil wriggled in under the tent, now, not fearing discovery, for
inside the tent, it was quite dark.  Slowly raising himself to
his feet, he edged nearer, step by step, to where the man was 
at work.  The man had partly spread the net out by this time, 
to make sure that he was cutting it in the right place so that 
it would give way beneath the weight of the performer unfortunate
enough to drop into it first.
"The fiend!" repeated Phil, clenching his fists.  "I'm glad I am
the one to discover him.  Mr. Man, I have a score to settle with
you and I'm going to begin the settling up now."
Phil crouched low.  He was now only a few feet from the 
stooping figure.
All at once the boy threw himself forward.  He landed on the man,
forcing him to the ground.  As he struck, Phil raised his voice
in the showmen's rallying cry.
"_Hey, Rube!_" he shouted in a sing-song voice that was heard in
the dressing tents and even out in the menagerie tent.
His first care, then, was to pinion the man so he could not use
his hands, for the Circus Boy knew that his captive had a knife 
in one hand.
Men came running from all directions, Mr. Sparling among the
number, for he had been in the menagerie tent when the cry
reached him, and feared some fresh trouble was at hand.
"What is it?  Where is it?" roared the showman.
"Here, here!  Bring lights.  Bring--"
The man beneath him began to struggle.  In fact the fellow
staggered to his feet, the boy being too light to hold him down.
Phil grabbed him about the waist, pinioning the man's arms to 
his sides.  Then began a desperate struggle, during which the
combatants fell to the ground, rolling over and over in their
fierce battle.
"It's Phil Forrest!" shouted the owner.
He sprang forward and with a mighty tug, jerked the tentman free
of the Circus Boy's body.  At that instant the fellow leaped to
his feet and started to run.
"Stop him!" howled Phil.
Teddy, who had come running up, suddenly stooped over and
constituting himself a battering ram, ran full tilt into the
tentman, the boy's head landing in the pit of the circus 
hand's stomach.  The fellow went down, whereupon Teddy 
promptly sat on him until the others reached the scene.
"Now, what does this mean?" demanded the showman sternly.
"It means that I caught this fellow cutting the net.  If you will
look at it you will find it to be badly mutilated, I think."
An examination proved that Phil was right.  Mr. Sparling had all
he could do to prevent the angry circus men from wreaking their
vengeance on the wretch then and there.
Teddy, in the meantime, had been peering into the man's face.
"I know him!  I know him!" howled the Circus Boy, dancing about.
"You know him?"
"Yes, do you remember Bad Eye who was mixed up with Red Larry,
the fellow we sent to jail two or three seasons ago?"
"That's Bad Eye," pointing to the prisoner, "and he is bad
medicine, besides."
"Is it possible?" muttered Phil, a new light breaking over him.
Suddenly Teddy uttered a yell.
"I've got him!  He's the fellow who stole my egg."  Teddy made a
dive for the prisoner, but strong hands pulled him away.
Bad Eye, it developed, smarting under the punishment that had
been meted out to his companion, had once more joined the show,
determined upon revenge.  He had in the meantime grown a full
beard, so that no one recognized him.  Now, Phil Forrest knew why
the voice was dimly familiar to him when he had heard it that
night out on the lot.
Caught red-handed, Bad Eye made a full confession.  And to the
surprise of everyone, he implicated Manuel, the assistant to
the Spanish clown.  Bad Eye admitted having thrown Phil Forrest
overboard, as well.  He denied having stolen Tucker's egg,
placing the full responsibility for this on the shoulders 
What was done with the egg was never known, though Manuel was
believed to have thrown it overboard.  Diaz, after his one
violent outbreak, had made no further evil attempts.
Bad Eye and Manuel were tried and convicted in due time, and
placed where they would do the show no further harm.
The show went on, and after several successful weeks, reached 
New Orleans, where the final performance of the season was given.
All hands then turned their faces northward.  Teddy and Phil
decided to take a steamship for New York, thence proceeding to
their home by train.  Each lad was a few thousand dollars richer
than when he had joined out in the spring.
They waved their adieus to Mr. Sparling from the deck of an ocean
steamer next morning as the big ship slowly poked its nose out
into the gulf.
"You can't down the Circus Boys," said Phil, with a pleased smile
as they leaned over the rail.
"At least, not this season," added Teddy.
But the exciting experiences of the Circus Boys were not yet at
an end.  The lads will be heard from further in another volume,
under the title: "THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE PLAINS; Or, The Young
Advance Agents Ahead of the Show."
In this forthcoming volume the lads pass through a phase of
circus life never experienced by them before.  They will find,
too, that all the thrills of the circus life are not confined
to the sawdust arena, but that there is every whit as much
excitement and real peril in the daily life of the advance man
on the advertising car ahead of the show.
This Etext was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Greg Berckes
The Circus Boys on the Plains
The Young Advance Agents Ahead of the Show
By EDGAR B. P. DARLINGTON
CHAPTER I--ON THE OWNER'S PRIVATE CAR
The English Fat Girl gets mired on the lot.  Teddy Tucker
threatens to thrash the "Strongest Man on Earth."  The hazards of
a circus life.  Teddy would put the whole show out of business.
Phil and his chum assigned to Advance Car Number Three.
CHAPTER II--OFF FOR NEW FIELDS
"Boss Sparling seems in an awful hurry to get rid of us."
Circus Boys meet a cold reception.  Phil is made a
"barn climber."  Teddy threatens to wring the car manager's neck.
"Soak him, Phil!" yells the boy on the pile of railroad ties.
CHAPTER III--COMING TO AN UNDERSTANDING
Phil gets into action.  "I've had enough!" groans the
car manager.  A telegram to the owner complains of the
Circus Boys.  "Either you get off this car or I do."  The advance
car is a bedlam.  More trouble for the Circus Boys is in sight.
CHAPTER IV-INTRODUCED TO THE CREW
Circus Boys meet "Rosie the Pig" and other notables.  The porter
tells how Phil worsted Mr. Snowden.  What a "contract hotel" is.
Teddy decides to take bean soup.  "Why didn't the contracting
agent sign us up with a livery stable?"
CHAPTER V--THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
How an advance car is operated.  The "banner man" and his little
magnetic hammer.  "You're a bird on the trapeze."  The boys
exchange confidences on snoring.  Circus Boys go to sleep on
beds of paper.  Aroused by a great uproar.
CHAPTER VI--ALMOST A TRAGEDY
"He's fallen into the paste can headfirst!"  Teddy Tucker has
a narrow escape from death.  The manager gives Phil a ducking.
"Rain-in-the-Face" sees a great light.  An irate car manager.
How Teddy took his revenge on Mr. Snowden.
CHAPTER VII--THE FIRST DAY'S EXPERIENCE
"He pulled me out of bed!"  Great excitement on Car Three.
Snowden hopes Phil will fall off and break his neck.
Young Forrest pastes a poster on himself.  "Young man,
you have a cast-iron nerve!"  The Circus Boy "squares"
a hard-shell farmer.
CHAPTER VIII--THE CIRCUS BOY WINS
Phil gets a silo, and a hog pen for good measure.
Farmers witness a circus stunt not down on the bills.
A narrow escape.  Taking a desperate chance.  Phil "the champeen
of them all."  Circus sheets that stood out like a fire on
the landscape.
CHAPTER IX--TEDDY GETS INTO TROUBLE
Blue jeans replace pink tights.  When it rained paste.  "I didn't
know you had your nose stuck in the paste pot when I turned on
the steam."  Teddy sets himself the task of reforming a
"crazy man."  The trouble maker is named "Spotted Horse."
"You're discharged!"
CHAPTER X--A SURPRISE, INDEED!
Billy Conley is up to tricks.  Mr. Sparling takes a hand.
The car manager gets his deserts.  "You will hear great
things of Phil Forrest one of these days."  "I'm going to
thrash a man within an inch of his life!"  Phil hears an
amazing thing.
CHAPTER XI--THREE CHEERS AND A TIGER
Phil Forrest, Car Manager.  Dazed by an unexpected promotion.
Teddy graduates from the paste pot.  How circus money is spent.
The Circus Boys win new laurels.  Teddy becomes a press agent.
Phil makes a speech and is welcomed as "The Boss."
CHAPTER XII--FACING AN EMERGENCY
"Bad habit to go to bed on an empty stomach."  Teddy Tucker
discovers a rival on a side track.  "Here's trouble right from
the start!"  The new car manager gets into rapid-fire action.
"We must beat the 'opposition.'  Now, boys, it's up to you!"
The mine is laid.
CHAPTER XIII--A BAFFLED CAR MANAGER
"That fellow is playing a sharp trick."  Phil breakfasts with his
rival and extracts information from him.  "You ain't half as big
a fool as you look, are you?"  Bob Tripp gets a great shock.
Farmers guard Phil Forrest's posters with shot guns.
CHAPTER XIV--TEDDY WRITES A LETTER
Circus Boys steal a second march on the "opposition."
Teddy Tucker whoops for joy.  The new press agent begins work.
"Spotted Horse" has too many fingers for typing.  A suggestion
for billposters.  Circus Boys strike hard blows.
CHAPTER XV--IN AN EXCITING RACE
All surrounded in Kansas.  Three "opposition" cars
discovered in the same yard with Phil Forrest.  A race for
the country.  Paste cans dance a jig.  Rivals turned over
into a ditch.  A case of give and take.
CHAPTER XVI--A BATTLE OF WITS
When money made a big noise.  The canary car manager gets an
awful jolt.  "Be on your way, my little man," urges Phil sweetly.
"Turn out every man in town!  Run as if the Rhino of the Sparling
Circus were after you!"
CHAPTER XVII--THE CHARGE OF THE PASTE BRIGADE
The battle is on in earnest.  Trouble is on the air.
"Paste them, fellows!" howls Teddy.  "Look out!  The police
are coming!"  "I arrest you for disturbing the peace!"
Phil faces the officers of the law boldly and wins for his show.
CHAPTER XVIII--THE MISSING SHOW CARS
Congratulations from the show's owner.  Four rival advance cars
go out on one train.  Teddy sends the enemy's cars adrift.
Sleeping a sleep of innocence.  Phil is puzzled over the mystery
of the missing cars.  Teddy's expression arouses the suspicion of
CHAPTER XIX--PHIL'S DARING PLAN
Teddy Tucker admits his guilt.  Forrest reads "Spotted Horse"
a severe lecture.  "Is the sermon over?"  A lesson that bore
fruit for a day or so.  Pat "smells a rat."  "She's moving!
We're off!"  The Circus Boys adrift on a runaway car.
CHAPTER XX--ON A WILDCAT RUN
A dizzy ride through the storm.  "Don't bother me, I'm making
the next town!"  A thrilling moment.  Phil faces death with a
smile on his face.  "Hold fast, we're going to sideswipe them!"
The agent at Salina gets a surprise.
CHAPTER XXI--IN A PERILOUS POSITION
Teddy throws out his chest and seeks publicity.  "Spotted Horse"
has a daring plan.  The Circus Boy a hundred feet in the air.
Teddy takes a desperate chance to earn Phil Forrest's fifty.
Overtaken by disaster as the Sparling banner floats to
CHAPTER XXII--A DASH FOR LIBERTY
"Help!  I'm hung up!"  Teddy is suspended, head downward, between
earth and sky.  Phil hurries to the rescue.  "I'm all tied up in
a knot!" wails the unhappy Tucker.  Teddy takes a long drop,
landing on Billy's neck, and bowls over a policeman.
CHAPTER XXIII--THE DESERTED VILLAGE
A new trouble-plan in the making.  Teddy is so happy that he
can't go to bed.  The "opposition" is lost again.  Phil makes
his chum tell how he tricked the rival car managers.  How Phil
Forrest proved that he was a real manager.
CHAPTER XXIV--CONCLUSION
The manager of "The Greatest Show on Earth" wants Phil.
Setting out to "drive the other fellows off the map."  "No more
meals at the Sign of the Tin Spoon."  Circus Boys have a happy
windup to an exciting show season.
THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE PLAINS
ON THE OWNER'S PRIVATE CAR
The voice of James Sparling rose above even the roar of
A uniformed attendant stepped into the little office tent
occupied by the owner of the Great Sparling Combined Shows.
Shaking the water from his dripping cap, he brought a hand
to his forehead in precise military salute.
"How's the storm coming, Bates?" demanded the showman, with an
amused twinkle in his eyes as he noted the bedraggled condition
of his messenger.
"She's coming wet, sir," was the comprehensive reply.
And indeed "she" was.  The gale was roaring over the circus lot,
momentarily threatening to wrench the billowing circus tents from
their fastenings, lift them high in the air preparatory to
distributing them over the surrounding country.  Guy ropes were
straining at their anchorages, center and quarter poles were
beating a nervous tattoo on the sodden turf.  The rain was
driving over the circus lot in blinding sheets.
The night was not ideal for a circus performance.  However, the
showmen uttered no protest, going about their business as
methodically as if the air were warm and balmy, the moon and
stars shining down over the scene complacently.
Now and again, as the wind shifted for a moment toward the
showman's swaying office tent, the blare of the band off under
the big top told him the show was moving merrily on.
"Bates, you are almost human at times.  I had already observed
that the storm was coming wet," replied the showman.
"I have reason to be aware of the fact that 'she is coming wet,'
as you so admirably put it.  My feet are at this moment in a
puddle of water that is now three inches above my ankles.
Why shouldn't I know?"
"Yes, sir," agreed the patient attendant.
"What I want to know is how are the tents standing the blow?"
"Very well, sir."
"As long as there is a stitch of canvas over your head you take
it for granted that the tops are all right, eh?"
"The emergency gang is on duty, of course?"
"They're out in the wet, sir."
"Of course; that is where they belong on a night like this.
But what were you doing out there?  You have no business that
calls you outside."
"I was helping a lady, sir."
"Helping a lady?"
"What lady?"
"The English Fat Girl got mired on the lot, sir, and I was
helping to get her out," answered the attendant solemnly.
"You will please attend to your own business after this.  If the
English Fat Girl gets mired again we will have the elephant
trainer bring over one of the bulls and haul her out.  She won't
be so anxious to get stalled after that, I'm thinking," snapped
the showman.
"What act is on now under the big top?"
"The ground tumblers are in the ring, sir."
Mr. Sparling reflected briefly.
"Has Mr. Forrest finished his work for the evening?"
"I think so, sir.  He should be off by this time."
"Can you get to the dressing tent without finishing the job of
drowning at which you already have made such a good start?"
demanded the showman quizzically.
"Yes, sir," grinned Bates.
"Then, go there."
The attendant started to leave the tent.
"Come back here!" bellowed the showman.
Bates turned patiently.  He was not unused to the strange whims
of his employer.
"What are you going to do when you get to the dressing tent?"
"I don't know, sir."
"I thought not.  You are an intelligent animal, Bates.
Now listen!"
Mr. Sparling scowled, surveying his messenger with narrowed eyes.
"Tell Mr. Philip Forrest that I wish to see him in my private car
at the 'runs,'"--meaning that part of the railroad yards where
the show had unloaded early that morning.
"Wait!  You seem anxious to get wet!  Have the men strike my tent
at once.  It is likely to strike itself if they do not get busy
pretty quick," added the showman, rising.
The messenger saluted, then hurried out into the driving storm,
while Mr. Sparling methodically gathered up the papers he had
been studying, stuffing them in an inside coat pocket.
"A fine, mellow night," he said to himself, peering out through
the flap as he drew on his oilskins.  Pulling the brim of his
sombrero down over his eyes he stalked out into the storm.
A quick glance up into the skies told his experienced eyes that
the worst of the storm had passed, and that there was now little
danger of a blow-down that night.  He started off across the
circus lot, splashing through the mud and water, bound for his
comfortable private car that lay on a siding about half a mile
from the circus grounds.
He found a scene of bustle and excitement in the railroad yards,
where a small army of men were rushing the work of loading the
menagerie wagons on the first section, for the train was going
out in three sections that night.
"It is a peculiar fact," muttered the showman, "that the worse
the weather is, the louder the men seem called upon to yell.
However, if yelling makes them feel any the less wet, I don't
know why I should object."
The showman quickly changed his wet clothes and settled himself
at the desk in his cosy office on board the private car.  He had
been there something like half an hour when the buzzing of an
electric bell called the porter to the door of the car.
A moment later and Phil Forrest appeared at the door of the car.
"You sent for me, did you not, Mr. Sparling?"
"Why, good evening, Phil," greeted the showman, looking up
quickly with a welcoming smile on his face.
"I call it a very bad evening, sir."
"Very well, we will revise our statement.  Bad evening, Phil!"
"Same to you, Mr. Sparling," laughed the lad.  "Yes, I think that
fits the case very well indeed."
"And now that we have observed the formalities, come in and
sit down.  Are you wet?"
"No; I went to my car and changed before coming in.  I thought a
few minutes' delay would make no difference.  Had you sent for me
on the lot I would have reported more promptly."
"Quite right, my boy.  No, there was nothing urgent.  The storm
did not interfere much with the performance, did it?"
"No.  The audience was a little nervous at one time, but the
scare quickly passed off."
"Where's your friend?"
"Teddy Tucker?"
"He was having an argument with the Strongest Man on Earth
when I left the dressing tent," laughed Phil.  "It was
becoming quite heated."
"Over what?"
"Oh, Teddy insisted on sitting on the strong man's trunk while he
took off his tights.  There was a mud hole in front of Teddy's
trunk and he did not wish to get his feet wet and muddy."
"So the Strongest Man on Earth had to wait, eh?" questioned the
showman with an amused smile.
"Yes.  Teddy was threatening to thrash him if he did not keep off
until he got his shoes on."
Mr. Sparling leaned back, laughing heartily.
"Your friend Teddy is getting to be a very belligerent young man,
"_Getting_ to be?"
"It is my opinion that he always has been.  Teddy can stir up
more trouble, and with less provocation, than anyone I ever knew.
But, you had something you wished to say to me, did you not?"
"To be sure I had.  Something quite important.  Have you had
your lunch?"
"No; I came directly to the train from the lot."
"I am glad of that.  I thought you would, so I ordered supper
for two spread in the dining compartment.  It must be ready
by this time.  Come.  We will talk and eat at the same time.
We have no need to hurry."
The showman and the Circus Boy made their way to the dining
compartment, where a small table had been spread for them, which,
with its pretty china, cut glass and brightly polished silver,
made a very attractive appearance.
"This looks good to me," smiled Phil appreciatively.
"Especially on a night like this," answered Mr. Sparling.
"Be seated, and we will talk while we are waiting for supper
to be served."
Readers of the preceding volumes of this series will need
no introduction to Phil Forrest and Teddy Tucker.  They well
remember how the Circus Boys so unexpectedly made their entry
into the sawdust arena in "THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS"
after Phil by his quick wit had prevented a serious accident
to the lion cage and perhaps the escape of the dangerous
beast itself.  Both boys had quickly worked their way into
the arena, and after many thrilling experiences became
full-fledged circus performers.
Again in "THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT," the lads won new
laurels on the tanbark.  It will be recalled, too, how Phil
Forrest at the imminent risk of his own life trailed down and
captured a desperate man, one of the circus employees who, having
been discharged, had followed the Sparling Show, seeking to
revenge himself upon it.  It will be remembered that in order to
capture the fellow, the Circus Boy was obliged to leap from a
rapidly moving train and plunge down a high embankment.
But their exciting experiences were by no means at an end.
The life of the showman is full of excitement and it seemed
as if Teddy and Phil Forrest met with more than their share in
"THE CIRCUS BOYS IN DIXIE LAND." Phil Forrest, while performing
a mission for his employer, was caught by a rival circus owner,
held captive for some days, then forced to perform in the rival's
circus ring, leaping through rings of fire in a bareback
riding act.  The details of Phil's exciting escape from his
captors are well remembered, as will be his long, weary journey
over the railroad ties in his ring costume.  It was in this
story that the battle of the elephants was described, all due
to the shrewd planning of Phil Forrest.
The following season found the Great Sparling Shows following a
new route.  In "THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI," the lads
embarked with the circus, on boats, which carried them from town
to town along the big river.  It was on this trip that Phil
Forrest met with the most thrilling experience of his life, and
it was only his own pluck and endurance that saved him from a
watery grave at the bottom of the Mississippi.
And now, for the fifth season, the Circus Boys are found under
canvas again, headed for the far west.
"How are things going with you?" questioned Mr. Sparling
after the two had seated themselves at the table in the
dining compartment.
"Rather slowly, Mr. Sparling."
"How is that?"
"I haven't enough to do this season.  I am afraid I shall get
lazy, unless you give me something else to do."
"Let me see; how many acts have you this season?"
"I am on the flying trapeze, then I do a single bareback
riding act and a double with Little Dimples, the same as I
did last season."
The showman nodded reflectively.
"Besides which, you attend to numerous business details for me,
manage the side shows, keep an eye on the candy butchers, make
yourself responsible for the menagerie tent and other things too
numerous to mention.  Yes; you should have a few more things to
do," grinned the showman.  "I could run this show with a dozen
men like you, Phil.  In all my circus experience I never saw
your equal."
Phil flushed.  He did not like to be complimented.  He did his
work because he loved it, not wholly for the handsome salary that
he was now drawing from the little red ticket wagon every week.
Phil was ambitious; he hoped, as has been said before, to have a
show of his own someday, and he let no day pass that he did not
add to his store of knowledge regarding the circus business.
In this ambition Mr. Sparling encouraged him, in fact did
everything possible to aid the lad in acquiring a far-reaching
knowledge of the vocation he had chosen for his lifework.
"Thank you, Mr. Sparling.  Let's talk about something else."
"We will eat first.  You probably will enjoy that more than you
do my compliments."
"I am sure of it," answered the lad with a twinkle in his eyes.
"I have been thinking of giving you some additional work."
Phil glanced up at his employer with quickened interest.
"Yes, I am thinking of closing you."
"You mean you are thinking of dropping me from the show?" asked
the lad, gazing at the showman with steady, inquiring eyes.
"Well, I should hardly say that.  I am afraid the Sparling Show
could not get along without you.  I am thinking very seriously of
transferring you."
"Transferring me?" wondered Phil.
"Yes.  By the way, do you know much about the advance work, the
work ahead of the show?"
"Very little.  I might say nothing at all, except what I have
picked up by reading the reports of the car managers, together
with the letters you write to these men."
"That is all right, as far as it goes, but there is a deal more
to the advertising department of a show than you will ever learn
from reports and correspondence."
"So I should imagine."
"Yes; the success, the very existence of a circus is dependent
upon the work of the men ahead of it.  Let that work be
neglected and you would see how soon business would drop off
and the gate receipts dwindle, until, one day, the show would
find itself stranded."
"Nothing could strand the Sparling Show," interposed Phil.
"You are mistaken.  Bad management would put this show out of
business in two months' time.  That is a point that I cannot
impress upon you too strongly.  Any business will fail if not
properly attended to, but a circus is the most hazardous of
"But the risk is worth taking," remarked Phil.
"It is.  For instance, when a show has a business of sixteen or
eighteen thousand dollars a day for several weeks, it rather
repays one for all the trouble and worry he has gone through."
"I should say it does," answered Phil, his eyes lighting
up appreciatively.
"And now we come to the point I have been getting at."
"Yes; what is it you have in mind for me?"
"I am going to ask you to join the advance for the rest of the
season, Phil."
"I, join the advance?" questioned the lad in a surprised tone.
"And leave the show?"
"That will be a necessity, much as I regret to have you do so."
Phil's face took on a solemn expression.
"How would you like that?"
"I do not know, Mr. Sparling.  I am afraid I should not know
what to do with myself away from the glitter and the excitement
of the big show."
"Excitement?  My dear boy, you will find all the excitement
you want ahead of the show.  As for work, the work ahead is
never finished.  There is always plenty to do after you
have finished your day's work.  Besides, this branch of the
business you must familiarize yourself with, if you are to
go later into the executive branch of the circus business."
"I am ready to go wherever you may wish to send me,
Mr. Sparling," said the young man in a quiet tone.
"I knew you would be," smiled the showman.
"Where will you send me, and what am I to do?" asked Phil,
now growing interested in the prospect of the change.
"I have decided to send you out on Advertising Car Number Three.
That is the busiest car of the three in advance of the show.
You ask what you are to do.  I will answer--_everything!_"
"Car Three," mused the Circus Boy.
"Yes; it is in charge of Mr. Snowden," continued the showman with
a twinkle in his eyes, but which Phil in his preoccupation failed
to observe.  "I am thinking that Snowden will give you all you
want to do, and perhaps a little more."
"When do you wish me to join?"
"You may start as soon as you are ready."
"I am ready, now," replied the lad promptly.
"I did not mean for you to leave in quite such a hurry as that,"
laughed Mr. Sparling.  "Besides, this is rather a bad night to
make a change.  Take your time, get your things in shape, and
leave when you get ready."
"Does Mr. Snowden know I am to join him?"
"Yes; I have already written him to that effect--that is, I told
him you probably would join at an early day."
"Where is Car Three now?"
Mr. Sparling consulted his route card.
"It is in Madison, Wisconsin, today.  This car keeps about
four weeks ahead of the show, you know.  We are in Flint,
Michigan, today.  Do you think you can get away tomorrow?"
"Certainly.  Where do we show tomorrow?"
"It will be an easy jump from there to Madison."
"Yes; but you will not catch the car at Madison.  I think you had
better plan to join them at St. Paul the day after tomorrow.
Will that suit you?"
"Yes.  I suppose my dressing-room trunk will be carried right
along with the show?"
"Of course.  You will close your season before the show itself
does; then you can return to us, though I shall not expect you
to perform.  You no doubt will be a little rusty by that time."
"I should say I would be.  But, Mr. Sparling--" added the boy, a
sudden thought coming to him.
"What about Teddy?  Does he remain with the show?"
"Teddy?  I had forgotten all about that little rascal.  Yes, he--
but wait a moment.  Upon reflection I think perhaps he had better
go along with you.  He wants to own a show one of these days,
doesn't he?"
"I believe he does," smiled Phil.
"Then this will be a good experience for him.  Besides, I should
be afraid to trust him around this outfit if you were not here to
look after him.  He would put the whole show out of business
first thing I knew.  Yes, he had better go with you.  And another
thing--salaries in the advance are not the same, you know."
"I am aware of the fact, sir."
"You will draw the same salaries that other employees of Number
Three do, and in addition to this I shall send you both my
personal checks, so that you will be drawing the same money you
"It is not necessary," protested Phil.
Mr. Sparling waved the objection aside.
"It is my plan.  Go to your car and tell your friend to get
ready now, and report to me in the morning at Saginaw for
further instructions."
Phil rose.  His face was flushed.  He was now full of
anticipation for the new life before him.  And it was to be
a new life indeed--a life full of astonishing experiences
and adventures.
Phil bade his employer good night, and hurried away to his own
car to tell the news to Teddy.
OFF FOR NEW FIELDS
"Teddy, Teddy, wake up!" commanded Phil, hauling his companion
from his berth in the sleeping car.
Teddy scrambled out into the aisle of the car and promptly
showed fight.
"Here, what are you doing, waking me up this time of the night?"
he demanded.
"I have great news."
"News?" questioned the boy, showing some slight signs of interest
in the announcement.
"Yes, news, and good news, too."
"All right, I'm easy.  What is it?"
"We are to join the advance."
"Advance of what?"
"The advance of the Sparling Shows, of course," glowed Phil.
Teddy grew thoughtful.
"What, and leave the show?"
"Certainly."
"Not for mine!"
"Oh, yes, you will!  You know, we wish to learn all we can, and
neither of us knows anything about that end of the business.
It is a splendid opportunity, and we should be very grateful to
Mr. Sparling for giving us the chance.  Besides, it will be a
very pleasant life.  We shall be traveling in a private car,
with no responsibilities beyond our work.  Will it not be fine?"
"I--I don't know.  I shall have to try it first.  I decline to
commit myself in advance.  When do we go?"
"Pshaw!  Boss Sparling seems to be in an awful hurry to get
rid of us.  All right, I'll go.  I need a rest, anyway--for
my health.  I've been working too hard so far this season."
"Too bad about you," scoffed Phil.  "We leave from Saginaw as
early tomorrow as we can get away.  We shall have to get a few
things from our dressing-tent trunks, then pack up the things
we do not need, sending them on with the show."
"Do I take my donkey?" questioned Teddy, half humorously.
"Your mule?  The idea!  Now, what would you do with a donkey
on an advance car, I should like to know?"
"He might make things interesting for the rest of the crowd."
"I should say he would!  But, from what little I know of the
advance, you will have plenty to interest you without having an
ill-tempered donkey along.  Good night, Teddy.  This is our last
night with the show for a long time to come."
Phil made his way to his own berth, where he promptly went to
sleep, putting from his mind until the morrow all thought of what
lay before him.
Early the next morning both lads were awake; by the time their
section pulled in at Saginaw they had nearly completed the
packing of their personal baggage.
The rest was quickly accomplished, after they had eaten their
breakfast under the cook tent.  All preparations made, a final
interview with Mr. Sparling had, and good-byes said, the Circus
Boys boarded a train just as the strains of the circus band were
borne to their ears.
"The parade is on," said Phil as their train moved out.
"And we are not there to ride in it.  We'll have to get up
some sort of a parade for Car Number Three, I'm thinking,"
smiled Teddy.
Late that afternoon the boys reached St. Paul.
After considerable searching about they finally found Car
Number Three.  Mr. Snowden was not on board, so, telling the
porter who they were, the lads made themselves comfortable in
the office of the car, a roomy compartment, nicely furnished,
equipped with two folding berths, a desk, easy chairs and
other conveniences.
"This is pretty soft, I'm thinking," decided Teddy.
"It is very nice, if that is what you mean," corrected Phil.
"That's what I mean.  Do we live in here?"
"No; I should imagine we are to berth at the other end of
"Let's go look at it."
The other end of the car comprised one long apartment with
folding berths and benches for laying out the lithographs.
At the far end was a steam boiler, used in making paste with
which to post the bills.  That compartment had nothing either
of elegance or comfort.
"Do the men sleep on those shelves up there?" questioned Teddy of
"Shelves, sir?  Hi calls them berths, sir," answered the porter,
who was an Englishman.
"What do you think of our new home, Teddy?" smiled Phil.
"I've seen better," grumbled the Circus Boy.  "I think I prefer
the stateroom.  Where's the boss?"
"He's out just now looking over the work."
Teddy, with a scowl on his face, went outside to take a look
at the car from the outside.  The car was a bright red, with
the name of the Sparling Shows spread over its sides in
gilded letters.
"If the inside were half as good-looking as the outside, it would
be some car," was Teddy's conclusion, after walking all around
the car.  "I think I'll go back and join the show."
"Oh, be sensible, Teddy," chided Phil.  "We shall be very
comfortable after we once get settled.  Here comes Mr. Snowden,
Approaching them, the boys saw a thin, nervous-appearing man of
perhaps forty-five years of age.
"Are you Mr. Snowden?" asked Phil, politely.
"Yes; what do you want?"
"I am Phil Forrest, and this is my friend, Teddy Tucker.  We have
come on to join the car."
Mr. Snowden looked the lads over critically.
"Humph!" he said.  "Come inside."
Whether or not his survey of them had been satisfactory neither
"Now, what are you going to do on this car?" demanded the car
manager sharply, when they had seated themselves in his office.
"That is for you to say, sir.  We are at your disposal,"
replied Phil.
"What can you do?"
"We do not know.  This is entirely new work for us.  We have been
performers back with the show, you know."
"Humph!  Nice bunch to ring in on an advertising car!" grunted
the manager.  "Either of you know how to put up paper?"
"I think not."
"What do you mean by paper?" interposed Teddy.
The manager groaned.
"You don't know what paper is?"
"Paper is advertising matter, any kind of show bills that are
posted on billboards, barns or any other old place where we get
the chance.  Everything is paper on an advertising car.
Forrest, I think I'll send you out on a country route tomorrow.
Know what a country route is?"
"I think so."
"Well, in case you do not, I will tell you.  Every day we
send out men to post bills through the country.  The routes
are laid out by the contracting agent long before we get to
a town.  You go out in a livery rig, and you will have to
drive from thirty to forty miles a day.  You are an aerial
performer, are you not?"
"Then you will be able to climb barns all right.  We will call
you Car Number Three's barn-climber.  We'll see how good a
performer you really are.  For the first few days I will send you
out with one of the billposters; after that you will have to go
it alone.  If you are no good, back you go.  Understand?"
"I think so.  I shall do the best I can."
"And what do I do?" demanded Teddy.
The car manager eyed him disapprovingly.
"What do you do?"
"I have a nice gentlemanly job laid out for you.  You will
operate the steam boiler and make up the paste for the next day.
You'll wish you had stayed back with the show before I get
through with you."
"And I'll go there, too, if you talk like that to me," retorted
Teddy, flushing angrily.
"What's that?  What's that?" snapped the manager.  "See here,
young man, I am in charge of this car.  You will do as I tell
you, and if you get noisy about it I'll show you how we do things
on an advertising car.  Get out of here before I throw you out."
"See here, you, I won't be talked to like that.  I'll wring your
neck for you, some fine day, first thing you know!" bellowed
Teddy, now thoroughly aroused.
The manager grabbed the lad by the shoulders and shot him through
the screen doors before Teddy had an opportunity to object.
Teddy, red-faced and boiling with rage, was about to project
himself into the stateroom again when Phil motioned him to
go away.  Teddy did so reluctantly.
"Where do we sleep, Mr. Snowden?" inquired Phil, hoping to get
the car manager in a more gentle frame of mind by changing
the subject.
"Sleep on the roof, sleep in the cellar!  I don't care where
you sleep!  You get out of here, too, unless you want me to
throw you out!"
"I think you had better not do that, sir."  Phil's voice was cool
and pleasant.
"What's that!  What's that!  You dare to talk back to me.
"Wait a moment, Mr. Snowden.  We might as well understand each
other at the beginning."
The car manager's words seemed to stick in his throat.  He gazed
at the slender young fellow before him in amazement.  Mr. Snowden
was unused to having a man in his employ talk back to him, and
for the moment it looked as though trouble were brewing in the
stateroom of Car Number Three.
"Say it!" he exploded.
"I have very little to say, sir.  But what I have to say will
be to the point.  I am well aware that discipline must be
preserved here as well as back with the show.  I shall always
look up to you as my superior, and treat you in a gentlemanly
and respectful manner.  I shall hope that you, also, will treat
me in a gentlemanly manner as long as I deserve it, at least."
"You--you threaten me, you young cub--you--"
"No; I do not threaten you.  I am simply seeking to come to a
friendly understanding with you."
"And--and if--if I decide to treat you as I do the rest of my
men--what then?" sneered the manager.
"That depends.  I can answer that question when I see how you do
treat them.  From what I have seen, I should imagine they do not
lead a very happy existence," continued the Circus Boy with a
pleasant smile.
"If I keep you on this car I'll use you as I please, and the
quicker you understand that the better.  Now, what do you propose
"I propose," said Phil, still preserving an even tone, "to do my
duty and at the same time keep my self-respect.  I propose, if
you persist in directing insulting language at me, to give you a
thrashing that will last you all the rest of the season."
Teddy, who had sat down on a pile of railroad ties beside
the tracks, could see and hear all that was going on in
the stateroom.
"Soak him, Phil!" howled the boy on the tie pile.
Snowden's eyes blazed and his fingers opened and
closed convulsively.
With an angry growl he hurled himself straight at Phil Forrest.
COMING TO AN UNDERSTANDING
"Be careful, Mr. Snowden!" warned the Circus Boy, stepping out
of harm's way.  "I am not looking for trouble, but I shall
defend myself."
"I'll teach you to talk back to me.  I'll--"
Just then the car manager stumbled over a chair and went down
with a crash, smashing the chair to splinters.
"Mr. Sparling will not tolerate anything of this sort, I am
sure," added Phil.
By this time, the manager was once more on his feet.  His rage
was past all control.  With a roar of rage Snowden grabbed up a
rung of the broken chair and charged his slender
young antagonist.
A faint flush leaped into the face of Phil Forrest.  His eyes
narrowed a little, but in no other way did he show that his
temper was in the least ruffled.
The chair rung was brought down with a vicious sweep, but to
Snowden's surprise the weapon failed to reach the head of the
smiling Circus Boy.
Then Phil got into action.
Like a flash he leaped forward, and the car manager found his
wrists clasped in a vise-like grip.
"Let go of me!" he roared, struggling with all his might to free
himself, failing in which he began to kick.
Phil gave the wrists a skillful twist, which brought another howl
from Snowden, this time a howl of pain.
"I am not looking for trouble, sir.  Will you listen to reason?"
urged the lad.
"I'll--I'll--"
Snowden did not finish what he had started to say.  Instead he
moaned with pain, writhing helplessly in the iron grip of
Phil Forrest.
"Do you give up?  Have you had enough?"
"_No!_" gritted the car manager.
The Circus Boy tightened his grip ever so little.
"How about it?"
"Give him an extra twist for me," shouted Teddy.
"I give in!  Let go quick!  You'll break my wrists!"
"You promise to carry this thing no further if I release you?"
"I said I have had enough," cried Snowden angrily.
"That won't do.  Will you agree to let me alone, if I release
you now?" persisted Phil.
"Yes, yes!  I've had all I want.  This joke has gone far enough."
"You have a queer idea of jokes," smiled Phil, releasing his man
and stepping back, but keeping a wary eye on the car manager,
as the latter settled back into a chair, rubbing his wrists.
They still pained him severely.
"I am sorry if I hurt you, Mr. Snowden.  But I had to defend
myself in some way.  I could have been much more violent, but I
did not wish to be unnecessarily so."
"You were rough enough.  I've got no use for a fellow who can't
take a joke without getting all riled up over it.  Get out
"What are you doing at this end of the car?" snarled the manager
to Henry, the English porter, who had been peering into the
office, wide-eyed.  He had been a witness to the disturbance,
but at the manager's command he hastily withdrew to his own end
"Shall we shake hands and be friends now, Mr. Snowden?"
"Shake hands?"
"Yes, of course."
"No.  I'll not shake hands with you.  I want nothing further to
do with you.  Either you get off this car, or I do.  We can't
both live on it at the same time."
"So far as I am concerned, we can do so easily," answered the
"I said either you or I would have to get off, and I mean exactly
what I said."
The manager wheeled his chair about, facing his desk, and wrote
the following telegram:
Mr. James Sparling,
     Saginaw, Michigan.
I demand that you call back the two boys who joined my car today.
Either they close or I do.  They're a couple of young ruffians.
If they remain another day I'll not be responsible for what I do
     Snowden.
The car manager handed the message to Phil.  "Read it,"
Phil glanced through the message, smiling broadly as he returned
it to the manager.
"That certainly is plain and to the point."
"I'm glad you think so.  Take that message to the telegraph
office, and send it at once."
Mr. Snowden had expected a refusal, but Phil rose obediently and
left the car.  He took the message to a telegraph office, Teddy
accompanying him.
"Why didn't you finish him while you were about it, Phil?"
demanded Teddy.  "You had him just to rights."
"I did quite enough as it was, Teddy.  I am very sorry for what
I did, but it had to come."
"It did.  If you hadn't done it I should have had to," nodded
Teddy rather pompously.  "But I shouldn't have let him off as
easily as you did.  I certainly would have given him
a rough-and-tumble."
"It is a bad enough beginning as it is.  Now, Teddy, I want you
to behave yourself and not stir up any trouble--"
"Stir up trouble?  Well, I like that.  Who's been stirring up
trouble around here, I'd like to know.  Answer me that!"
"I accept the rebuke," laughed Phil.  "I am the guilty one this
time, and I'm heartily ashamed to admit it at that."
"What do you think Mr. Sparling will do?"
"I don't know.  I can't help but think he had some purpose in
sending us on to join this car, other than that which he told us.
However, time will tell.  We are in for an unpleasant season, but
we must make the best of our opportunity and learn all we can
about this end of the business."
"I've learned enough this afternoon to last me for a whole
season," answered Teddy grimly.
By the time they returned to the car the men had come in from the
country routes, as had the lithographers who had been placing
bills in store windows about the town.
"He's at it again," grinned Teddy, as the voice of the manager
was heard roaring at the men.  Snowden was charging up and down
the car venting his wrath on the men, threatening, browbeating,
expressing his opinion of all billposters in language more
picturesque than elegant.  Not a man replied to his tirade.
"Evidently they are used to that sort of treatment," nodded Phil.
"Well it doesn't go with me at all.  Come on; let's go in and see
what it's all about."
INTRODUCED TO THE CREW
"And the next man who puts up only two hundred sheets in a day
gets off this car!" concluded Snowden with a wave of the hand
that took in every man in the car.  "Get in your reports, and get
them in quick, or I'll fire the whole bunch of you now!" he
roared, turning and striding to his office, where he jerked the
sliding door shut with a bang that shook the car.
"Well, the boss has 'em bad tonight, for sure," exclaimed Billy
Conley who bore the title of assistant car manager, but who was
no more manager than was Henry, the English porter.
"Hello, who are you?" demanded one of the men, as Phil and Teddy
stepped in through the rear door of the coach.
"Good evening, boys," greeted Phil easily.
All eyes were turned on the newcomers.
"Howdy, fellows," said Teddy good-naturedly.
"Fine, large evening."
Everybody laughed.
"Are you the boys who joined out today, from back with the show?"
asked Conley.
"Yes.  Let me introduce myself.  I am Phil Forrest and this, my
companion, is Teddy Tucker.  We're green as grass, and we shall
have to impose upon your good nature to set us straight."
The Circus Boys had won the good opinion of the men of Car Three
at the outset.
"That's the talk," agreed Billy.  "Line up here and I'll
introduce you to the bunch.  The skinny fellow over there by
the boiler is Chief Rain-in-the-Face.  The one next to him
is Slivers.  The freakish looking gentleman standing at my
right is Krao, the Missing Link.  On my left is Baby Egawa--"
"Otherwise known as Rosie the Pig," added a voice.
"Everybody on an advance car has a nickname, you know.
You'll forget your real names, if you stay on an advance
car long enough.  I couldn't remember mine if I didn't get
a letter occasionally to remind me of it, and sometimes I
almost feel as if I was opening another fellow's letters
when I open my own."
"Glad to know you, boys," smiled Phil.  "Do you know where we are
"See that pile of paper up there?"
"Well, it's that or the floor for yours.  All the rest of the
berths are occupied, unless the Boss is going to let you sleep
in the office with him."
"I rather think he will not invite us.  He seems to be in a huff
about something tonight," answered Phil dryly, at which there was
a loud laugh.
"What's this Johnnie Bull tells me about a roughhouse in the
office this afternoon?" demanded Conley suddenly.
"I would rather not talk about that," replied Phil, coloring.
"Come here, you Englishman, and tell us all about it.  Our friend
is too modest."
The porter did not respond quickly enough to suit the men so they
pounced upon him and tossed him to the top of a pile of paper.
"Now, talk up, or its the paste can for yours," they demanded.
Henry rather haltingly described what he had seen in the
stateroom that afternoon, describing in detail how Phil had
worsted the manager of the car.
When the recital had been concluded, all hands turned and
surveyed Phil curiously.
"Well, who would have thought it?" wondered Rosie, in an
Krao, the Missing Link, and Baby Egawa sidled up to Phil and
gingerly felt his arm muscles.
"Woof!" exclaimed the Baby.  "Bad medicine!  Heap big muscle!"
"That's so.  I had forgotten you boys were performers back with
the show," nodded Billy.  "What are you up here for--learning
this end of the business?"
"Yes; that is what we are here for," answered Phil.
"Mr. Sparling wished us to do so."
"You have come to a good place to learn it," emphasized Conley.
"But you'll have to fight your way through.  You have done a
mighty good job in downing the Boss, but look out for him.
He'll never forget it.  If he doesn't get you fired, he will get
even with you in some other way."
Phil laughed.
"I'll do my duty.  But I am not afraid of him.  Are all car
managers like Mr. Snowden?"
"Most of them.  Some better, some worse.  They think they are not
doing their duty, earning their meal-tickets, unless they are
Roaring Jakes.  But Snowden is the worst ever.  He has the
meanest disposition of any man I ever knew.  This is his first
season on Number Three, and I shouldn't be surprised if it were
his last.  I hear Boss Sparling doesn't take to him.
Know anything about that?"
Phil shook his head.
"Why do you let him treat you as he does?"
"Let him?  Well, I'll tell you confidentially.  Most of us have
families to support.  Some of us have wives; others mothers and
sisters to look after.  It's put up with the roast or get out.
And let me tell you, the Boss isn't slow about closing out a
fellow he doesn't like.  He'll fire you at the drop of the hat."
"I'm hungry; where do we eat?" interrupted Teddy.
"Sure!  Don't you fellows in advance eat?"
"Well, we go through the motions.  That's about all I can say
for it.  This living at contract hotels isn't eating; it isn't
even feeding.  You folks back with the show don't have to put
up with contract hotels; you eat under the cook tent and you
get real food."
"What's a contract hotel?" asked Teddy.
Phil looked at his companion in disgust.
"Teddy Tucker, haven't you been in the show business long enough
to know what a contract hotel is?"
Teddy shook his head.
"I'll tell you, I'll explain what a contract hotel is,"
said Billy.  "The contracting agent goes over the route in
the spring and makes the arrangements for the show.  He engages
the livery rigs to take the men out on the country routes, and
when he gets through with the livery stable business he hunts up
all the almost food places in town until he finds one that will
feed the advance car men for five or ten cents a meal.  Then he
signs a contract and goes off to a real hotel for his own meal.
Oh, no, Mr. Contracting Agent doesn't get his meals there.
Well, we're booked to eat at one of those almost food places
in every town we make.  And some of them are not even 'almost.'
We are going to one of the kind now.  Want to come along?"
"Sure," replied Teddy.
"You won't be so anxious after you have had a week or so
All hands started for the hotel.
"What about your reports?  I thought Mr. Snowden told you to get
them in at once," asked Phil after they had left the car.
"Let him wait," growled Billy.
"But he will raise a row when you get back, will he not?"
"He'll roar anyway, so what's the odds?  We're used to that."
"A queer business, this advance car work," said
Phil thoughtfully.  "I never had any idea that it
was like this.  If ever I own or run a show it will
be different--I mean the advance cars will be run
on a different principle from this one."
"I hope you do, and that I am working for you," grinned Conley.
"Here we are."
Billy's description of a contract hotel Phil decided had not
been overdrawn.  All hands filed into the dining room, and Phil
had lost most of his appetite before reaching his chair.
A waiter who looked as if he might have been a prizefighter at
one time shambled up to them with a soiled napkin thrown over
one arm.  As it chanced, he approached Teddy first.
"Bean soup!  What'll you have," he demanded with a suddenness
that startled the Circus Boy.
Teddy surveyed the waiter with large eyes, then permitted
his gaze to wander about the table to the faces of the
grinning billposters.
"Bean soup.  What'll I have?" reflected the lad soberly.
"Now isn't it funny that I can't think what kind of soup
I want.  Bean soup; what'll I have?"
The waiter shifted his weight to the other foot, flopped the
napkin to the other arm and stuck out his chin belligerently.
"Bean soup!  What'll you have?" he demanded, with a rising
inflection in his voice.
"Let me think.  Why, I guess I'll take bean soup if it's all the
same to you," decided Tucker, solemn as an owl.
The billposters broke out into a roar of laughter.  They fairly
howled with delight at Teddy's droll manner, but the Circus Boy
did not even smile.  He looked at them with a hurt expression in
his eyes until the men were on the point of apologizing to him.
They did not know young Tucker.
The rest of the meal passed off without incident.
"Well, what did you think of the contract hotel?" questioned
Conley, as they were strolling back to the car.
"I think I shall starve to death in a week, if I have to eat
in that sort of a place," answered Teddy.  "Why didn't the
contracting agent sign us up with a livery stable?  I'd a
sight rather feed there than at a contract hotel if they are
all like this."
"Yes, the food is at least clean in a livery stable,"
laughed Phil.  "But we shall get along all right.  If we get
too hungry we can go out and buy our own meals now and then.
Do you ever do that, Mr. Conley?"
"I should say we do.  We have to, or we shouldn't have any
stomachs left.  Now, you want to know something about this car
work, don't you?"
"I should like to very much, if you can spare the time to tell me
"Wait till I get my report made out, then we'll have a nice long
talk, and I will tell you all about it."
"There is Mr. Snowden waiting for you."
"Never mind him.  His bite isn't half so bad as his bark."
The men piled into the car, whereupon Manager Snowden unloosed
the vials of his wrath because their reports were not in.  To his
tirade no one gave the slightest heed.  The men went methodically
to work, writing out their reports to which they signed their
names, folded the papers, and tossed them on the manager's desk
without a word of explanation.
For a few moments there was silence in the office while the
manager was going over the reports.  All at once there was
"Pig!  Come here!"
Rosie got down from the pile of paper on which he had been
sitting, taking his time about doing so, and, wearing a broad
grin, strolled to the office at the other end of the car.
"What's the trouble now?" demanded Rosie.
"Trouble?  Trouble?  That's the word.  It's trouble all the time.
Where are your brains?"
"In my head, I suppose," grinned Rosie.
"No!" thundered the manager.  "They're in your feet.  All you
know how to do is to kick.  You're a woodenhead; you're
Rosie accepted the tirade with a quiet smile.
"If you will tell me what it is all about I may be able
to explain."
"Look at those billboard tickets!"
"What's the matter with them?"
"Matter?  Matter?"
"Yes, that's what I asked."
"They're torn off crooked."
"Well, what of that?"
"What of that?  Why, you woodenhead, when those tickets are
presented at the door when the show comes around, the ticket
takers won't accept them.  Then there will be a howl that you can
hear all across the state of Minnesota.  How many times have I
told you to be careful?"
"The tickets are all right," growled Rosie, now a little nettled.
"What!  What!  You dare contradict me?  I'll fire you
Saturday night!  I'd fire you now only I am short of money.
Get out of here!  Come back!"
Rosie turned dutifully, but with a weary expression on his face.
"I fine you eleven dollars and fifty cents.  That's about what
the tickets will come to.  Now go.  Send Rain-in-the-Face here!"
The interview with Rain-in-the-Face sounded not unlike a series
of explosions to those out in the main compartment of the car.
Every face wore a grin, and each man expected it would be his
"Come on, let's go outside and talk," said Conley.
"I should think you _would_ want to get away from it all,"
answered Phil.  "I don't know; whether I can stand this
sort of thing or not."
"You'll get used to it after awhile."
"Something's going to happen," croaked the Missing Link,
dismally, as the two left the car by the rear door.
"I guess the freak is right," nodded Billy Conley.  "There is
going to be an explosion here that will shake the state."
There was, but not exactly in the way he imagined.
THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
"Now tell me, if you will, what the routine of the work on an
advance car is," said Phil after he and Billy had sat down beside
"It would take all night to do that, but I'll give you a few
pointers and the rest you will have to pick up for yourself.
In the first place an advertising car includes billposters,
lithographers, banner men and at least one programmer."
"Sounds all right, but it doesn't mean much of anything to me,"
laughed Phil.
"The billposters post the large bills on the billboards, and
anywhere else that they can get a chance, mostly out in the
country and in the country towns.  In places where there is a
regular billposter, he does that work for us.  Any boards not
owned by a billposter, or a barn or a pigpen or a henhouse on the
road is called a 'daub.' At least two tickets are given for every
place we put a piece of paper on.  These tickets are numbered
and signed.  Now, if a fellow out in Kankakee, we will say,
should chance to tear down the bill, when he presented his ticket
at the gate on the day of the show, it would be refused.
He'd pay or stay out."
"But how would they know he had taken down the poster,"
questioned Phil.
"Checkers follow along at intervals and check up every piece of
paper we put up.  We send the record of our work to the car back
of us and they in turn send our and their reports to the car
behind them."
"It is a wonderful system, indeed," marveled Phil.
"Yes.  To go back a little I will say that this is a 'scout car'
or what is known among showmen as 'the opposition car.' It goes
only where there is trouble, where there is opposition.
For instance, more than half a dozen shows are coming into
this territory, this season, and it is up to us to cover
every available space with our paper before their cars get
on the ground."
"But will they not paste their bills over yours, over those you
have already put up?"
"They seldom do.  It is an unwritten law in the show business
that this is not to be done."
Teddy had come up to them in time to hear the last remark.
"I thought there wasn't any law, written or unwritten, in this
business," he said.
"You will find there is, young man.  Then, to come to the
lithographers, as I think I already have told you, these men
place small bills in store and shop windows, giving tickets
for the privilege the same as do the billposters.  One man
goes ahead of them and does what we call 'the squaring,'
meaning that he enters the stores and asks the privilege of
putting up the lithographs.  In most cases the owners of the
places object, and he has to convince them that it is to
their advantage to have the paper in their windows."
"I didn't think there was so much to it, but I think I should
like that work.  I'll be a squarer," decided Teddy.
"The banner men put up what are called 'banners,' cloth signs.
These are tacked up in high places and the banner men have to be
good climbers.  They fill their mouths with tacks, points in,
heads out.  They use magnetic hammers."
"What's this, a joke?" interrupted Teddy.
"It is not a joke.  The head of each hammer so used is a magnet,
and is used to pick the tacks from the mouth of the banner man.
The tack sticks to the head of the hammer and is thus ready to
be driven.  An expert banner man will drive tacks almost as
rapidly as you could fire a self-acting revolver."
"That is odd.  What does the fellow called the programmer do?"
"He takes the small printed matter around, and drops it on
doorsteps and in stores.  When we are making a day run with the
car he drops the printed matter off at stations and crossroads,
or wherever he sees a man.  Following us come route-riders."
"What are they?"
"Men who ride over the country routes to see whether the
billposters have put up the paper indicated on their reports, or
thrown the stuff in a ditch somewhere.  After them come checkers,
one after the other.  This is Car Three, as you know.  Car Two
follows about two weeks behind us, and Car One comes along a week
ahead of the show.  What are you going to do?"
"Mr. Snowden said I was to go out with one of the men on a
country route."
"Then you come along with me, unless he directs you differently.
I can give you pointers that would take you a long time to learn
were you left to pick them up yourself.  Don't say anything to
him about it unless he speaks to you, but prepare to go out with
me early in the morning.  I have a big drive tomorrow, some fifty
miles, and you will get all you want for one day's work."
"Yes; that will be fine."
"What is your friend here to do?"
"I am the paste-maker," answered Teddy with a sheepish grin.
"I make the stickum stuff for this outfit."
"A nice job," jeered the assistant manager.  "You will get all
you want of that work in about thirty minutes.  The Boss must
certainly have a grudge against you.  You will be hanging around
the car all day, however, and if the Boss is away any you will
have a chance to get forty winks of sleep in the stateroom now
"No; Teddy is not here to sleep.  He is here to work."
"Yes; everybody works around here but Father."
"Is the work the same on the advance cars of all shows?"
"All circuses, yes.  We do things just the same as the fellows
did them forty years ago.  Nobody seems to have head enough to
do things differently, and goodness knows some modern methods
are necessary."
"How long have you been on this car?"
"Four years; this is my fifth season here."
"Why, that is exactly the time we have been with the
Sparling Shows."
Billy nodded.
"I saw you work last season.  You are a bird on the trapeze,
and ride--whew, but you can beat anything I ever saw on bareback!
I knew I had seen you before when you came in this evening, but I
couldn't place you.  I remembered after a little.  Say, Phil, I'm
glad you handed it out to the Boss this afternoon."
"And I am very sorry.  I don't know what Mr. Sparling will think
of it.  Still, I had to do something.  I saw right away that he
had made up his mind to treat us badly.  What time do we pull
out tonight?"
"Twelve o'clock, I think.  And speaking of that, it is time
to turn in."
The three entered the car.  Mr. Snowden already had turned
in, his end of the car being dark and silent.  Most of the
billposters also had climbed to their berths near the roof
of the car, and some of them were snoring heavily.
"Do they do this all night long?" questioned Teddy.
"Roll logs!"
"Well, yes," laughed Billy; "they are pretty good snorers,
all of them.  Do you snore?"
"I might, on a pinch.  I don't know whether I do or not.  I am
usually asleep when I snore.  How about it, Phil, do I snore?"
"Not when I am within punching distance of you."
The boys undressed, got into their pajamas, and after
considerable effort managed to climb to the top of the pile
of paper, where their blankets had been spread for them by
"Not much of a bed, is it Teddy?" laughed Phil.
"The worst ever!" agreed Teddy.  "How I'm going to stick in that
bed when the car gets under motion I don't know.  I wish I was
back with the show."
"Never mind, old chap.  We have had things pretty easy for the
last four years.  A little hardship will not hurt either of us.
And I know we are going to like this life, after we get more used
to it.  What time do we get up; do you know?"
"No, I don't know anything about it.  I guess in time for late
breakfast," answered Teddy grimly.  "Good night."
In a few minutes the Circus Boys were sound asleep.  They did not
even awaken when, about midnight, a switch engine hooked to their
car, and after racing them up and down the railroad yards a few
times, coupled them to the rear of the passenger train that was
to pull them to their next stand, some seventy-five miles away.
A few minutes later and they were rolling away.  The road was a
crooked one and the car swayed dizzily, but they were too used to
the sensation to be in the least disturbed by it.
An hour or two had passed when, all at once, every man in the car
was suddenly startled by a blood-curdling yell and a wild
commotion somewhere in the darkness of the car.
"What is it?"
"Are we wrecked?"
"What did we hit?"
This and other exclamations were shouted in loud tones, as the
men came tumbling from their berths, some sprawling over the
floor, where a lurch of the car had hurled them.
ALMOST A TRAGEDY
"Strike a light!"
"Are we off the rails?"
"No, you idiot.  Don't you feel the car going just the same
as before?  And he's wheeling her a mile a minute at that.
Hurry with that light, somebody!" commanded Billy.
At this moment they heard the sliding door of the manager's
stateroom come open with a crash.
"Now, here's trouble for certain!" muttered the Missing Link.
"The Boss is on deck."
"I guess my friend Teddy has got into trouble," said Phil
Forrest, slipping quickly from his bed on top of a pile of gaudy
circus posters.  "Ted!  Ted, where are you?"
There was no answer.
"What is all this row about?" thundered the manager, stalking
down the car, clad only in his pajamas.
"We do not know, sir.  We are trying to find out.  I am afraid my
friend has fallen out of bed and hurt himself," answered Phil.
"I hope it killed him!" bellowed Mr. Snowden.  "The idea of
waking up the whole car at this time of the night!  This nonsense
has got to stop, and right quick at that.  Where's that light?"
Phil was groping about the floor, trying hurriedly to
locate Teddy.  But no Teddy was to be found.
Finally a match flickered; after lurching about the car the man
with the match finally succeeded in locating the bracket lamp
near the end of the car.
Anxious eyes peered about them in the dim light.
"Look!" howled Rosie the Pig.
A pair of wildly kicking legs were seen protruding from one of
the big paste cans, these cans being made like the big garbage
cans that one sees in backyards in the city.
"It's Teddy!  There he is!" cried Phil, springing forward.
"He's gone in the paste can head first!" yelled another of
"Help me get him out; he has stuck fast!" shouted Phil, tugging
desperately at his companion's heels.
The car set up a roar of laughter at the ludicrous sight.
To Phil, however, it was no laughing matter.  The paste can
was nearly full of paste and of about the same consistency
as dough in a bread pan.  It was thick and wickedly blue,
for it had been mixed with bluestone to preserve it until
required by the billposters.
"Pull him out, you idiots!" bellowed the car manager.  "If he
isn't dead now, he can't be killed.  Pull him out and throw
him overboard!"
Phil flashed an indignant look at Mr. Snowden.
By this time others had come to his assistance.  It required
their united efforts to rescue Teddy from his
perilous predicament.
They hauled him out and laid him on the door.
"Teddy, Teddy!" cried Phil, but Tucker made no reply.  In the
first place his mouth was so full of paste that he could not
utter a sound.  Again, he was half unconscious, nearly smothered
and still unable to breathe freely.
Phil grabbed off the jacket of his own pajamas and began wiping
the blue paste from the unfortunate lad's mouth, eyes and nose.
A happy thought appeared to strike the car manager.  He dashed to
the sink, and, quickly filling a pail of water, ran back to the
spot where Teddy was lying.
Snowden turned the pail bottom side up, apparently intending to
douse the water into Tucker's face.
Instead, the contents of the pail landed on Phil Forrest's head,
spreading itself over his bare back, and trickled down in
rivulets over Teddy's face.
The water was almost ice cold.
"Wow!" howled Phil, springing to his feet.  "Who did that?"
"I did, and I'll do it again," jeered the car manager.
"Get me another pail, but I'll do the spilling this time.
Don't you dare duck me again, or I'll settle with you after
I get through with my friend."
One of the crew grabbed up the pail to run for water.  This time
the pail was handed to Phil who instantly began mopping the face
of young Tucker.
In a moment or so Teddy began to gasp.  His dive had nearly been
the end of him.
"Get a net," he murmured as he slowly came to, whereat everyone
save the car manager laughed loudly.  "Wha--what happened?
Did we run off the track?"
"No, you took a high dive into a can of paste," jeered Billy.
"You're the champion high diver of Car Three."
Mr. Snowden, stooping over, grabbed the luckless Teddy by the
collar and jerked him to his feet.
"Get up, you lummox!" he commanded.
Teddy blinked very fast.  Mr. Snowden began to shake him.
Phil stepped forward quickly and pushed the car manager away.
"Wha--what!" growled Snowden, an angry light leaping into
"You let the boy alone," commanded Phil.  "Because he has had an
accident is no reason why you should punish him!"
"You--you--you--"
Phil paid no heed to him, but led the unsteady Teddy to the far
end of the compartment.
"You get off this car, both of you!" yelled the manager.
"What, with the train running sixty miles an hour?" questioned
Phil, turning slowly.
"Yes; I don't care if it kills you both.  Good riddance--good job
"I think you have another guess coming, Mr. Car Manager," replied
Phil calmly.
Snowden glared at the Circus Boy who had thus defied him; then
turning sharply on his bare heel he strode back to his stateroom.
A broad grin appeared on the faces of the car crew.
"I guess that will be about all for this evening,"
announced Rain-in-the-Face.
"Is there a rope on this car?" asked Phil.
"Yes; what do you want a rope for?" replied Billy.
"He's going to complete the job by hanging the Boss from a brake
beam," spoke up Rosie.
"Not quite as bad as that, I guess," laughed Phil.  "I am going
to tie my friend Teddy in his bed.  There is no telling what may
happen to him, if I do not.  Teddy, had we happened to be sound
sleepers you would in all probability be dead by this time."
Tucker shivered.
"That would please Mr. Snowden too much, you know."
"Then tie me in.  I don't want to please him.  Did he duck me
while I was asleep?"
"He tried to.  As it chanced my bare back got most of the
ducking," answered Phil with a short laugh, for he believed the
car manager had purposely poured the water on him.
"But he shook me," protested Teddy.
"He did that," chorused the crew.  "What are you going to do
"Well," reflected Tucker; "I think he and I will fight a duel
tomorrow at sunrise."
Once more all hands turned in, Phil humorously making a pretense
of tying his companion to his "berth." As a matter of fact, Phil
did tie the rope about Teddy's wrist, wrapping the free end about
his own arm, and thus the boys went to sleep once more.
It seemed as if they had been asleep only a few minutes when they
were suddenly startled into wakefulness by a loud noise.
This time, however, it was not a yell, but a roar.
Phil sat up suddenly, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Get up, you lazy good-for-nothings!" bellowed the car manager,
dancing up and down the aisle, still in his pajamas, his hair
standing up, his eyes wild and menacing.
"Is that all?" muttered Teddy, sinking back into a sound
sleep again.
Phil sprang from the pile of papers on which he had been
sleeping, landing lightly on the floor in his bare feet.
"Good morning, Mr. Snowden.  I hope you had a good night's
sleep," greeted the Circus Boy.
Snowden glared at the lad, as if trying to make up his mind
whether or not Phil was making sport of him.  But there was
only pleasantness in the face of Phil Forrest.
"Huh!" grunted the manager.  Then he once more began racing up
and down the car, roaring at his men, threatening and expressing
his opinion of them in the way with which Phil already had
become familiar.
Teddy lay curled up, with one foot protruding from beneath
the covers.  Whether or not he had done this purposely, it
was difficult to decide.  Be that as it may, Mr. Snowden
caught sight of the pink foot.  He rose to the bait like a
bass to a fly.
In another second he had pounced upon the foot.  Grabbing it
with both hands he gave it a violent tug.  Tucker responded.
He came slipping from the "berth," throwing the quilts before
him as he did so.  The quilts landed over the car manager's head.
Then came Teddy Tucker.
Ted landed, full on Mr. Snowden's head, with a wild yell.
Down went the manager and the Circus Boy, with the latter on top,
in a writhing, howling, confused heap.
THE FIRST DAY'S EXPERIENCE
"Give it to him, Teddy!" howled the crew.
Tucker, as soon as he could right himself, sat down on the
manager's head, at the same time holding Mr. Snowden's hands
pinioned to the floor.
The muffled voice under the quilts waxed louder and more angry as
the seconds passed.  Phil, who had gone to the wash room to make
his toilet, hurried back at sound of the row.
"Teddy Tucker, what are you doing?" demanded Phil, for the moment
puzzled at the scene before him.
"I'm sitting on the Boss," answered Teddy triumphantly.  "Shall I
give him one for you?"
"Yes--give him two for each of us," shouted the billposters.
Phil strode to his companion, grabbed the lad by the collar
of his pajamas and jerked him from the helpless man under
"Now, you behave yourself, young man, or you will have to reckon
with me," he commanded, pushing Teddy aside.
"You let me alone.  This is my inning.  I guess I can sit on the
Boss, if I want to, without your interfering with the fun."
Giving no heed to the words, Phil quickly hauled the quilts off
and assisted Mr. Snowden to rise.
"I guess Teddy must have fallen on you, sir," suggested
Phil solemnly.
"He did it on purpose!  He did it on purpose!"
"You pulled him out of bed, did you not, sir?"
"Yes; and next time I'll pull him so he'll know it.  Get out of
here, every man of you, and get your breakfasts; then get off on
your routes.  Things are coming to a fine pass on this car.
Young man, I will talk to you later."
The manager, with red face and angry eye, strode to his
stateroom, while the grinning billposters made haste to get into
their clothes.  A few minutes later, and all hands were on their
way to breakfast.
This meal at the new hotel was a slight improvement over the
dinner they had eaten the night before.  Besides, all hands were
in good humor, for they had had more real excitement on Car
Three, since the advent of the Circus Boys, than at any time
during the season.
By the time they reached the car again six livery teams were in
waiting for the men who were to go out on the country routes.
All was instantly bustle and excitement.  Paste cans were loaded
into the wagons, brushes and pails, together with the paper that
had been carefully laid out and counted, the night before, for
each billposter.  A record of this was kept on the car.
Phil lent a hand at loading the stuff, and they found that
the slim lad was stronger than any of them.  It was an easy
matter for him to lift one of the big cans of paste to a
wagon without assistance.  Teddy, however, stood by with
hands thrust in pockets, an amused grin on his face.
The baleful eye of the car manager was upon him.
"Have you heard from Mr. Sparling this morning?" asked Phil.
"Yes," answered Mr. Snowden shortly.
"What did he say?"
"That is none of your business, young man."
"You are right.  I accept the rebuke.  While I am interested, it
really is none of my business," answered the lad with a smile.
"Where are you going?"
"You told me to go out on one of the country routes."
"Oh!  What route are you going on, if I may ask?"
"I had thought of going with Mr. Conley."
"You will do nothing of the sort.  You will go where I tell
you to.  I--"
"I suggested that he go with me, Mr. Snowden," interposed Billy.
"I have a hard route to work today and I shall need some help if
I get over it before dark."
"Very well; go on.  I hope he falls off a barn or something.
If he does, leave him."
"For your sake, I shall try to take care of myself," answered
Phil with an encouraging smile.
"Start a fire under that boiler.  Henry, you show him how to
manage the boiler and mix the paste.  I don't imagine he even
knows dough when he sees it."
"I know a dough-head when I see one," spoke up Teddy promptly,
after delivering himself of which sentiment he strolled away with
hands in his pockets, whistling merrily.
The drive to the country in the fresh morning air was a most
delightful one to Phil.
After leaving the town they soon came in sight of a
deserted house.  It evidently had been abandoned, for
it was in a bad state of dilapidation.
"There's a dandy daub!" exclaimed Billy.  "We'll plaster it with
paper until the neighbors won't know it.  When we get there, hop
off and bring some pails of water, will you?"
"Sure," answered Phil.  While he was doing this, the billposter
was spreading his paper out on the ground, deciding on the layout
that he would post.
A few minutes later and the gaudy bills were going up like magic
on the road side of the house and the two ends, so that the
pictures might be seen from every point of view from the highway.
The house had been transformed into a blaze of color.
"All right," sang out Billy.  "Good job, too."
Phil had learned something.  He had noted every movement of
the billposter.
"How long does it take to learn to post, Billy?" he asked.
"Some fellows never learn.  Others get fairly expert after a few
weeks puttering around."
"May I try one today?"
"Sure thing.  If the next one is easy I will give you a chance
The next daub proved to be a small hay barn a little way back in
"There's your chance, my boy," he said.
Phil jumped out before the wagon had come to a stop and, with
paper and brush under his arms, ran across the field.  With more
skill than might have been expected with his limited experience
he smeared the paper with paste, then sought to raise it up to
the side of the building as he had seen Billy Conley do.
This was where Phil came to grief.  A gust of wind doubled the
paper up, the pasted side smearing the bright colors of the face
of the picture, until the colors were one hopeless daub.  To cap
the climax the whole thing came down over Phil's head, wrapping
him in its slimy folds.
"Hey, help!" he shouted.  "I'm posting myself instead of
Billy sat down on the ground, laughing until the tears ran down
"If it hadn't been for that unexpected gust of wind I should have
made it nicely," explained Phil with a sickly grin.  "Oh, pshaw,
I'm not as much of a billposters as I thought I was.  I guess
there is more to this game than I had any idea of."
"You will learn.  You took a pretty big contract when you tried
to put up that eight-sheet."
"We will let you try a one-sheet on the farther end of the barn.
A one-sheet is a small, twenty-eight inch piece of paper,
Phil nodded.
"I'll try it," he said.  "I guess a one-sheet is about as big a
piece of paper as I am fit to handle just yet."
He managed the one-sheet without the least trouble, and did a
very good job, so much so that Billy complimented him highly.
"You will make a billposter yet.  One good thing about you is
that you are willing to learn, and you are quick to admit that
you do not know it all.  Most fellows, when they start, have
ideas of their own--at least they think they have."
After that Phil did the small work, thinned the paste and made
himself generally useful.
"Oh, look at that!" he cried, pointing off ahead of them.
"What is it, Phil?"
"See that building standing up on that high piece of ground.
Wouldn't that be a dandy place on which to post some paper?"
The building he had indicated was a tall circular structure,
painted a dark red, with a small cupola effect crowning its top.
"That is a silo.  You wouldn't be able to get permission to post
a bill on there, even if you could get up there to do it,"
said Conley.
"Why not?  Why that farmer, I'll wager, sets as much store by
that building as he does his newly-painted house."
"I'll go ask him.  You don't mind if I 'square' him, do you?"
questioned the lad with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Ask him, for sure.  But we couldn't post up there.  We have
no ladders that would reach; in fact we have no ladders
at all.  I mean the farmer has no ladders long enough."
"Never mind; I'll figure out a way," replied the Circus Boy,
whose active mind already had decided upon a method by which
he thought he might accomplish the feat, providing the farmer
was willing.
Reaching the farm, Phil jumped out and ran up to the house.
"Do you own this place, sir?" he asked of the farmer who answered
his ring at the bell.
"It's a beautiful place.  I am representing the Sparling Circus,
and we thought we would like to make a display on your silo."
The farmer gazed at him in amazement.
"Young man, you have a cast-iron nerve even to ask such a thing."
"I know the mere matter of tickets to the show will be no
inducement to a man of your position.  But I am going to make you
a present of a box for six people at the circus.  You will take
your whole family and be my guest.  I will not only give you an
order for it, but will write a personal letter to the owner, who
is my very good friend.  He will show you all there is to be
seen, and I will see to it that you take dinner with him in the
circus tent.  No; there is no obligation.  All the farmers--all
your neighbors will be envious.  I want you to come.  We won't
speak of the silo.  I don't expect you to let me post that; but,
if you will permit me to put a three-sheet on your hog pen back
there, I shall be greatly obliged."
Despite the farmer's protestations, Phil wrote out the order for
the box, then scribbled a few lines to Mr. Sparling, which he
enclosed in an envelope borrowed from the farmer.
"Thank you so much," beamed the Circus Boy, handing over the
letter to the farmer, accompanied by the pass and order for
the arena box at the circus.  "It is a pleasure to meet a man
like you.  I come from a country town myself, and have worked
some on my uncle's farm."
"You with the circus, eh?"
"Looks to me like you was a pretty young fellow to be a
circus man."
"Oh no, not very.  I belong back with the show.  I am a
performer, you know.  I am out with the advertising car to learn
the business."
"A performer?" wondered the farmer, looking over the trim figure
and bright boyish face.  "What do you perform?"
"I perform on the flying trapeze and do a bareback riding act."
"Is that so?"
"Do you know, young fellow, I never got such a close squint at a
circus fellow before in my life.  But, come to size you up, I
reckon you can do all them things you've been telling me about.
Yes, sir, I'll go to the circus.  Will you be there to cut up in
"I cannot say.  It is doubtful, as I probably shall be ahead of
the show for the rest of the season.  Well, thank you very much.
We will decorate the hog pen," added the lad, touching his cap
and turning away.
An arena box, value twelve dollars, was a pretty high price to
pay for a three-sheet on a hog pen, but Phil Forrest knew what he
was doing.  At least he thought he did, and he did not walk very
fast on his way to the road.
"Hey, come back here," called the farmer.
"Yes, sir," answered Phil turning inquiringly.
"Come here."
He walked back to where the farmer was standing fingering the
pass and the letter.
"I--I reckon you needn't stick them bills on the hog pen."
The Circus Boy's heart took a sudden drop.
"Very well, sir; just as you say.  I do not wish to do anything
to displease you."
"But I reckon you can plaster that silo full of them circus
pictures from top to bottom, if you want to," was the
unexpected announcement.
Phil Forrest's heart bounded back into position again.
CHAPTER VIII
THE CIRCUS BOY WINS
"Oh, thank you, thank you ever so much!" answered the lad, his
eyes glowing.
"You're a square kid and I like you."
"I appreciate your kindness, I assure you, and I will write a
letter to the owner of the show about you this evening when I get
back to the car.  Have you any ladders that we can borrow, and a
"I reckon you'll find all them things in the hay barn.
Help yourself.  I've got to run up to the back farm, but
maybe I'll be back before you get through your job.
Phil hurried back to the road, where Billy and the wagon
were waiting.  The lad's feet felt lighter than usual.
"Well, what luck?" demanded Billy.
"I may be a poor apology as a billposter, but as a diplomat I'm a
winner, Billy."
"You--you don't mean you got the silo?" gasped Conley.
"I got the silo, and I can have the hog pen too, if I want it,
and perhaps the farmer's house thrown in for good measure,"
answered Phil, his face flushed from his first triumph as a
publicity showman.
"Well, of all the nerve!"
"That's what the farmer said," laughed Phil.  "But he changed
"What do you think of that?" demanded Billy, turning to
"The kid is all right."
"You're right; he is.  The next question, now that you have got
the silo, is what are you going to do with it?"
"Post it," answered Phil promptly.
"You can never do it."
"I'll show you what a circus man can do."
"Come along and unload your truck.  Help me get some ladders out
of the barn."
Wonderingly, Billy did as he was bid, and the driver, now grown
interested, hitched his horses to the fence and followed them.
The silo was empty.  Phil measured the distance to the top with
"About forty feet I should say," he decided.  "We shall have to
do some climbing."
The ladders were far too short, but by splicing two of them
together, they reached up to an opening in the silo some ten feet
from the top.
Phil hunted about until he found a long plank; then setting the
spliced ladders up inside the silo he mounted to the opening,
carrying one end of a coil of rope with him.  Upon reaching the
opening he directed Billy to tie the other end of the rope to
the plank.  This being done, Phil hauled the board up to where
he was sitting perched on the frame of the opening.
"I'd like to know what you're going to do?"
"If you will come up here I will show you."
"Not on your life," replied Billy promptly.  "I know when I'm
well off, and if you don't look out, Boss Snowden will get
"What wish was that?"
"That you might fall off a barn and break your neck."
The Circus Boy's merry laugh floated down to them as he worked in
an effort to get the plank into position.  By tying the rope to
one end of the plank to support it he gradually worked the plank
out through the opening, after a time managing to shove the end
nearest to him under a beam.
"There, I'd like to see you turn a trick like that, Billy
Conley," he shouted.
"_I_ wouldn't," retorted Billy.  "What's the next move?"
"In a minute.  Watch me!"
The lad made a large loop in the rope in the shape of a
slip knot.  All preparations being made he boldly walked out
on the plank which, secured at one end like a springboard,
bent and trembled beneath his weight.
The men down below gasped.
The farmer, having changed his mind, had come out to watch the
operation rather than visit the back farm.  Two neighbors had by
this time joined him.
"Who's the fellow up there?" asked one.
"He is a performer in a circus."
"A performer?  Shucks!  He's no more performer than I am."
"Watch him and perhaps you may change your mind," answered Billy,
who had overheard the remark.  "That boy is one of the finest
circus performers in this country.  Do you think he could stand
out on that plank, more than thirty feet above the ground, if he
were not a performer?  Why, I wouldn't be up there for a million
dollars, and you wouldn't, either."
"That's right," answered the farmer himself.  "That beats all the
circus performances I ever saw.  What is the kid going to do?"
"I don't know," confessed Billy.  "He knows and that's enough."
Phil, having tested the plank to his satisfaction and studied
his balance, now cast his eyes up to the little cupola on top
of the silo.  Then he began slowly swinging the loop of the
rope over his head, after the fashion of a cowboy about to make
They were at a loss to understand what he was trying to do, but
every man there was sure in his own mind what Phil Forrest would
do--fall off.
Suddenly he let go of the loop.  It soared upward.  Then they
began to understand.  He was trying to rope the cupola.
The rope fell short by about three feet, as nearly as he was able
"Oh, pshaw!" muttered Phil.  "That was a clumsy throw.  I would
make just about as good a cowboy as I am a billposters.
Well, here goes for another try."
He put all his strength into the throw this time.
The rope sped true, dropping as neatly over the peak of the
cupola as if the thrower had been standing directly over
the projection.
A cheer rose from the men below.
It died on their lips.
"He's falling!" they cried with one voice.
The farmers stood gaping.  But Billy, with the quick instincts of
a showman, darted beneath the plank hoping to catch and break the
Phil had leaned too far backward in making his cast.  He had lost
his balance and toppled over.  Here his training in aerial work
served him in good stead.  As he felt himself going he turned
quickly facing toward the outer end of the plank.
Like a flash both hands shot out.  They closed about the end of
the plank by a desperately narrow margin.
The plank bent until it seemed as if it must snap under
his weight.  Then it shot upward, carrying the boy with
it, he kicking his feet together as he was lifted and
laughing out of pure bravado.
Phil knew he was safe now.  The drop had tested the plank, so
that there was now slight danger of its breaking.
On the second rebound he swung himself to the upper side of it
and stood up.
"Hurrah!" he shouted.
Billy was pale and trembling.
"If you do that again I'll have an attack of heart disease,
Phil!" he called.  "Now, what are you going to do?  The rope is
hanging seven or eight feet away from you."
"Hello, that's so.  I hadn't observed that before.  I should
not have let go of it.  Never mind, I'll get it unless
something breaks.  See here, Billy, you get from under there."
"Is the plank likely to fall?" asked Billy innocently.
"The plank?  No.  I am likely to take a tumble," answered
Phil, with a short laugh.  All at once he grew serious
and still.  "I think I can make it," he decided.
His resolution formed, the lad crouched low, so as not to throw
so great a leverage on the plank that it would slip from under
him when he leaped.  He prepared for the spring.
"Don't do it!" howled Billy, now thoroughly frightened.
"Don't you see what he's up to?  He's going to jump off
the plank and try to catch hold of the rope hanging from
the cupola.  He'll never make it.  He'll miss it sure as
he's a foot high.  This is awful!"
"Don't bother me, Billy.  Mr. Farmer, is that cupola strong
enough to bear my weight on a sudden jolt?"
"It ought to hold a ton, dead weight."
"Then I guess it will hold me.  Don't talk to me down there.
It seemed a foolhardy thing to do.  To the average person it
would have meant almost sure death.  It must be remembered,
however, that Phil Forrest was a circus performer, that he felt
as thoroughly at home far above the ground as he did when
standing directly on it.
He leaped out into the air, cleared the intervening space between
the plank and the rope, his fingers closing over the latter with
a sureness born of long experience.
His body swung far over toward the other side of the silo,
settling down with a sickening jolt, as the loop over the cupola
slipped down tight.
"Hooray!" cried Phil, twisting the rope about one leg and waving
a hand to those below him.
They drew a long, relieved sigh.  The farmers, one after the
other, took off their hats and mopped their foreheads.
"Warm, isn't it?" grinned the owner of the silo.
"Now, pass up your brush and paste on this rope."  Phil had
brought a small rope with him for this very purpose.
Billy got busy at once and in a few minutes Phil had the brush
and paste in his hands, with which he proceeded to smear as much
of the side of the silo as was within reach.  It will be
remembered that he was hanging on the rope by one leg, around
which the rope was twisted as only showmen know how to do.
"Now, the paper," called Phil.
This was passed up to him in the same way.  In a few moments he
had pasted on a great sheet, having first pulled himself up to
the eaves to secure the top of the sheet just under them.
"Now that you have one sheet on, how are you going to get around
to the other side to put others on?" demanded Conley.
"Oh, I'll show you.  Be patient down there.  I have got to change
a leg; this one is getting numb."
"I should think it would," muttered Billy.
Phil changed legs, as he termed it; then, grasping the eaves with
both hands, he pulled himself along, the slip-noose over the
cupola turning about on its pivot without a hitch.
This done Phil called for more paper, which was put up in
short order.  Thus he continued with his work until he had put
a plaster, as Bill Conley characterized it, all the way around
the farmer's silo.  It might have been seen nearly ten miles
away in all directions.  No such billing had ever before been
done in that part of the country, nor perhaps anywhere else.
"There!  I'd like to see the Ringlings, or Hagenbecks or
Barnum and Bailey or any of the other big ones, beat that.
They're welcome to cover this paper if they can, eh, Billy?"
laughed Phil, pushing himself away from the side of the silo
and leaning far back to get a better view of it.  "I call
that pretty fine.  How about it?"
"The greatest ever," agreed Billy.  His vocabulary was too
limited to express his thoughts fully, but he did fairly well
with what he had.
Having satisfied himself that his work was well done, Phil let
himself down slowly, not using his hands at all, in doing so,
but taking a spiral course downward.
"H-u-m-m, I'm a little stiff," he said when his feet touched
the ground.  "Am I a billposter or am I not a billposter, Billy?"
"You are the champeen of 'em all!  I take off my hat to you."
Which Conley did, then and there.
"I am afraid I shall not be able to get that rope down, sir,"
said Phil politely to the farmer.  "I am sorry.  I had not
figured on that before.  If you will be good enough to tell me
how much the rope is worth I shall be glad to pay you for it.
I can cut it off up near the little door there, so it will not
look quite so bad.  Shall I do it?"
"No.  You needn't bother.  As for paying for the rope I won't
take a cent.  I've had more fun than the price of a dozen
ropes could buy.  Why, young man, do you know I never seen
anything in a circus that could touch the outside edge of the
performance you've been giving us this afternoon?  You boys
had your dinners?"
"No," confessed the Circus Boy.  "I guess we had forgotten
all about eating."
"Then come right in the house.  My wife will get you
something, and I want to introduce her to a real live
circus man--that's you."
"Thank you."
Phil's eyes were bright.  He was happy in the accomplishment of a
piece of work that was not done every day.  In fact, this one was
destined to go down in show history as a remarkable achievement.
They sat down to a fine dinner, and Phil entertained the family
for an hour relating his experiences in the show world.
When the hour came for leaving, the farmer urged them to remain,
but the men had work to do and a long drive ahead of them.
They drove away, Phil waving his hat and the farmer and his wife
waving hat and apron respectively.
As the rig reached a hill, some three miles away, Phil and Billy
turned to survey their work.
"Looks like a fire, doesn't it, Billy?"
"It sure does.  It would call out the fire department if there
was one here."
"And the best of it is, that posting will be up there when the
show comes this way next season.  It is a standing advertisement
for the Great Sparling Shows.  But I suppose Mr. Snowden would
say it wasn't much of a job."
TEDDY GETS INTO TROUBLE
"Get those paste cans outside!  Step lively there!"
"Say, you talk to me as if I were one of the hired help,"
objected Teddy, his face flushing.
"Well, that is exactly what you are.  You'll soon learn that you
are hired help if you remain on this car.  I'll take all the
freshness out of you.  The flour is in the cellar."
"In the cellar?"
"That's what I said.  Go down and get it out.  You will require
about a sack and a half for each can.  That will be about right
for a can of paste.  Henry will show you how much bluestone to
put in.  But be careful of that boiler.  I don't want the car
The manager strode away to his office, while Teddy, red and
perspiring, went about his work.  He was much more meek than
usual, and this very fact, had the manager known him better,
would have impressed Mr. Snowden as a suspicious circumstance.
Instead of the usual pink tights with spangled trunks, Teddy
Tucker was now clad in a pair of blue jeans, held up by pieces of
string reaching up over his shoulders.  His was now a far
different figure from that presented by him in the ring of the
Sparling Shows.
After dumping the flour into the cans, in doing which Teddy took
his time, he attached a hose pipe to the boiler, under the
direction of Henry.  Next he filled the cans with water and was
then ready to turn on the steam to boil the paste.
Teddy was about to do this when Mr. Snowden appeared on
the scene.  He looked over the cans critically, but observing
nothing that he could find fault with, he got a stick and
began poking in the bottom of one of the cans, thinking he had
discovered that more flour had been used than was necessary.
All at once Teddy, who was now inside the car, turned a full head
of steam through the hose pipe.  There being one hundred and
forty pounds of steam on the boiler something happened.
The full force of the steam shot into the bottom of the can over
which Mr. Snowden was bending.  The contents of that can leaped
up into the air, water, flour, bluestone and all, and for the
next few seconds Manager Snowden was the central figure in the
little drama.  It rained uncooked paste for nearly half a minute.
Such of it as had not smitten him squarely in the face went up in
the air and then came down, showering on his head.
The force of the miniature explosion had bowled the manager over.
Choking, sputtering, blinded for the moment by the stuff that had
got into his eyes, he wallowed in the dust by the side of
Teddy shut off the steam, went out on the platform and sat down.
"What happened?" he demanded innocently.  Perhaps he did not know
and perhaps he did.
Mr. Snowden did not answer, for the very good reason that he
could not.  His clothes were ruined.
"It looks like a storm," muttered the lad.  In this he was
not mistaken.
A happy thought came to him.  Springing up he hurried into the
car, and, drawing a pail of water from the tap, ran out with it.
Mr. Snowden had just scrambled to his feet.
"This will do you good," said Teddy, dashing the pail of water
over the manager's head.  "That's the way you brought me back
when I got pasted up last night."
The Circus Boy ducked back to the platform and sat down to
await developments.  They were not long in arriving.  The instant
Snowden got the flour out of his eyes sufficiently to enable him
to see he began blinking in all directions.
Finally his eyes rested on Teddy Tucker, who was perched on a
brake wheel observing the manager's discomfiture.
"You!" exploded the manager.  Grabbing up the paddle used for the
purpose of stirring paste he started for the Circus Boy.
Teddy promptly slid from the brake wheel and quickly got to the
other side of the car.  Snowden was after him with an angry roar,
brandishing the paddle above his head.
"I knew it would blow up a storm pretty soon," muttered the lad,
making a lively sprint as the manager came rushing around the end
of the car.  The chase was on, but Teddy Tucker was much more
fleet of foot than was his pursuer, besides which his years of
training in the circus ring had put him in condition for a
Around and around the car they ran, the porter watching them,
big-eyed and apprehensive, but Teddy kept his pursuer at a
distance without great effort.
After a short time the lad varied his tactics.  Increasing his
speed, he leaped to the rear platform of the car, and sprang up
on the platform railing.  Here, grasping the edge, he pulled
himself to the roof, where he sat down with his feet dangling
over, grinning defiantly.
"Come down from there!" roared the manager.  "I'll teach you
to play your miserable pranks on me!"  The roof of the car was
beyond the ability of Mr. Snowden to reach.
"I'm sorry.  I didn't know you had your nose stuck in the paste
pot when I turned on the steam," murmured Teddy.
This served only to increase the anger of the man on the ground.
"You did it on purpose; you know you did!" roared Mr. Snowden.
"Come down, I tell you."
"You come up.  It's fine up here!"
The manager, now angered past all control, uttered a growl.
Hastily gathering up a handful of coal he began heaving the
pieces at Teddy.  But Tucker was prepared for just such
an emergency.
>From his pockets he drew several chunks of coal, that he had
picked up during his sprinting match around the car.  He let
these drive at Mr. Snowden, one after the other, not, however,
throwing with sufficient force to do much damage.  He did not
wish to harm his superior, but he did want to drive him off.
Mr. Snowden soon got enough of the bombardment, for he was
getting the worst of it all the time.
"I'll turn the hose on you!" he bellowed, making a dash for the
interior of the car, where it was his intention to turn on the
boiling hot water and steam.
"I guess it's time to leave," decided Teddy.  Quickly hopping
down he ran and hid behind a freight car a short distance from
the show car.  When Mr. Snowden came out, grasping the hissing
hose, his victim was nowhere to be seen.
Uttering angry imprecations and threats the manager returned
to his office, changed his clothes, then strode off up town
to a hotel to get a bath, of which he was very much in need
at the moment.
"I guess he will be cooled off by the time he gets back," decided
Teddy, emerging from his hiding place.  "I think I will go back
to work.  I must earn my money somehow.  That man is crazy, but I
have an idea he will be sane after I get through with him."
Teddy returned to his paste-making.  Henry, the porter, was
so frightened that he hardly dared talk to Teddy, for fear
the manager might catch him doing so and vent his wrath on
the Englishman.
As the Circus Boy had surmised Mr. Snowden returned after a two
hours' absence, much chastened in spirit.  He did not even look
at Teddy Tucker, though the latter was watching the manager out
of the corners of his eyes.  Mr. Snowden went directly to his
stateroom where he locked himself in.
"I guess the storm has blown over," decided young Tucker,
grinning to himself.  "But won't Phil raise an awful row when he
hears about it!"
The lad quickly learned the paste-making trick, and after dinner
he set to work in earnest.  He found it hard work stirring the
stiff paste, and it seemed as if Teddy got the greater part of it
over his clothes and face.  He was literally smeared with it,
great splashes of it disfiguring his face and matting his hair.
When the men from the country routes drove in there was a howl
of merriment.  The lad did present a ludicrous sight.
"Hello, Spotted Horse!" shouted one of them.
"Hello yourself," growled Teddy, in none too enviable a frame
"That's the name.  That's the name that fits our friend Tucker!"
cried Missing Link.  From that moment on, aboard Car Three, Teddy
Tucker lost his own name and became Spotted Horse.
The men had no sooner unloaded their paste cans than the porter
had told them of the trouble that morning between Teddy and
the manager.
The men howled in their delight.  Mr. Snowden, off in his little
office, heard the sounds of merriment and knew that the laughter
was at his expense.  His face was black and distorted with rage.
"I'll show them they can't trifle with and insult me,"
At that moment he roared for Billy.
"The regular evening seance is about to begin," announced Billy,
with a grimace, as he turned toward the office.
"Bring the cub, Forrest, along!" shouted the manager.
"Who?" called Conley.
"Forrest and that fool friend of his."
"He means Spotted Horse," suggested Rosie.  "Run along,
Spotted Horse.  Got your war paint on?"
"I always have my war paint on," grinned Teddy, as he started
toward the private office, following Conley and Phil Forrest.
The three ranged up before the car manager, who surveyed them
with glowering face.
"What have you done today?" he demanded, fixing his gaze
"We got up more than four hundred sheets of paper."
"Four hundred sheets!" groaned Snowden.  "What have you fellows
been doing?  Sleeping by the roadside?"
"No, sir, we have been working, and Mr. Forrest here pulled off
one of the cleverest hits that's ever been made.  He plastered
a silo that stands out like a sore thumb on the landscape, and
which every farmer within ten or twenty miles about will go to
"Humph, I don't believe it!  What have the other men done?"
Conley reported as to the number of sheets that the men had
posted, whereat the manager rose, pounded his desk and, in a
towering rage, expressed his opinion of the tribe of
billposters again.
Billy smiled sarcastically, in which he was joined by Teddy,
but Phil's face was solemn.  He was becoming rather tired of
this constant abuse.
"If you have nothing to say to me, I will go back to my place
in the car," spoke up Phil.
Snowden glared at him.
"Did I tell you to leave this room?"
"I believe you did not."
"Then stand there until I tell you to go!"
"Very well, sir."
"Conley, I have called you in here to be a witness to what I am
about to say.  Do you hear?"
Billy nodded.
"During the past two days I have been insulted and abused by
those two young cubs there, until it has come to a point where
I appear to be no longer manager of this car.  Your men outside
have laughed at my discomfiture--yes, sir, actually made sport
"I think you are mistaken.  I--"
"I am _not_.  I am never mistaken.  This morning, this fellow
Tucker not only defied me, but turned on the steam when I was
examining a paste pot, and soaked me from head to foot.  Then he
ended up by throwing coal at me."
"Yes, and you started the row," retorted Teddy.  "The idea of a
big man like you pitching on to a boy.  You ought to be ashamed
of yourself."
"Stop it!  I'll forget you are a boy if you goad me further.
But I have had enough of it.  I'll stand it no longer.
Do you understand?"
No one replied to the question.
"This thing has gone far enough.  Have you anything to say for
yourself or your friend here, Forrest?"
"Yes, sir, I have."
"You are the most ill-tempered man it has ever been my experience
"You're discharged!  Both of you!  Get off my car instantly!
Do you hear me?"
"I could not very well help hearing you.  I am sorry to
disobey you, but we were ordered to Number Three by Mr. Sparling.
We will try to do our duty, but we shall not leave this car
until Mr. Sparling orders us to do so," answered Phil steadily.
A SURPRISE, INDEED
Phil had triumphed, but he felt little satisfaction in having
The manager had ordered the two boys from his office after the
interview and the command to leave the car at once.  But the
lads had stayed on, and had gone about their duties, Phil
working with all the force that was in him.  He had even
stirred Teddy to a realization of his duty and the latter
had done very well, indeed.
A week had passed and the car was now in South Dakota.
>From there they were to make a detour and drop down into
Kansas, whence their course would be laid across the
plains and on into the more mountainous country.
Mr. Snowden had studiously avoided the boys; in fact he had not
spoken a word to them since the interview in the stateroom, but
he had bombarded Mr. James Sparling with messages and demands
that the Circus Boys be withdrawn from the car, renewing his
threats to leave in case his demand was not complied with.
One bright Sunday morning the car rolled into the station at
Aberdeen, South Dakota, and as it came to a stop a messenger boy
boarded it with a message for Billy Conley.
Billy looked surprised, and even more so after he had perused the
message itself.  He quickly left the car, saying he would return
after breakfast, but instead of going directly to breakfast, he
proceeded to the best hotel in the place, where he called for a
certain man, at the desk.
Billy spent some two hours with the man whom he had gone to see,
after which he returned to the car.  There was a twinkle in his
eyes, as he looked at the Circus Boys, who were at that moment
getting ready to go to church, a duty that Phil never neglected.
He still remembered the time when he used to go to church on
Sunday mornings, holding to his mother's hand.  Never a Sunday
passed that he did not think of it.
"Will you go with us, Billy?" he asked, noting the gaze of the
assistant manager fixed upon him.
"Not this morning.  I expect company," answered Billy with
Teddy eyed him suspiciously.
"Billy is up to some tricks this morning.  I can see it in his
eyes," announced Tucker shrewdly.  "I guess I will stay and see
what's going on."
"No; you will come with me," replied Phil decisively.
So Teddy went.
Shortly after their departure a gentleman boarded the car, at the
stateroom end, and walked boldly into the office.
The man was James Sparling, owner of the Sparling Combined Shows.
Mr. Snowden sprang up, surprise written all over his face.
"Why, Mr. Sparling!" he greeted the caller.  "I did not
expect you."
"No; my visit is something of a surprise, but it is time I
came on.  Where are the boys?"
"You mean young Forrest and Tucker?" asked the manager, his
smile fading.
"The young cubs have gone to church.  A likely pair they are!
What did you mean by turning loose a bunch like that on me?"
There was a slight tightening of Mr. Sparling's lips.
"What seems to be the trouble with them?"
"Insubordination.  They are the worst boys I ever came across in
all my experience."
"Have you done as I requested, and helped them to learn
the business?"
"I have not!"
"May I inquire why not?"
"My telegrams should be sufficient answer to that question.
Both of them are hopeless.  I want nothing to do with either
of them.  They have thoroughly disorganized this car, and
each of them has assaulted me.  Had I followed the promptings
of my own inclinations I should have smashed their heads
before this.  But I considered their youth."
Mr. Sparling leaned back and laughed.
"I am glad you did not try it."
"Why?" demanded the manager suddenly.
"Because you would have got the thrashing of your life.
Mr. Snowden, I am fully informed as to what has been
going on in this car."
"So, that's it; those cubs have been spying on me and reporting
to you, eh?  I might have known it."
"You are mistaken," answered the owner calmly.  "While they had
sufficient provocation to do so, not a murmur has come from
either of them.  They have taken their medicine like men.  I make
it a rule to keep posted on what is going on in every department
of my show.  I therefore know, better than perhaps you yourself
could tell me, what has been going on on Car Three.  And it is
going to stop right here and now."
"What do you mean?"
"In the first place, the work has been unsatisfactory.  The men
have done as well as could be expected of them, but they have
been in such a constant state of rebellion because of your
attitude that the work was bound to suffer."
"You are very frank, sir."
"That's my way of doing business.  You not only have neglected
the work but you have openly defied me and my orders."
"That's exactly what these young cubs have done with me,"
interposed the manager quickly.
"My information is quite to the contrary.  However, be that as it
may, I have decided to make a change."
"Make a change?"
"I do not understand."
"Then I will make it more plain.  I'm through with you."
"You mean you discharge me?"
"You have guessed it."
The manager smiled a superior sort of smile.
"You forget I have a contract with you.  You can't discharge me
until the end of the season."
"And you forget that I have already done so.  Here!  You see, I
come prepared for your objections.  Here is a check for your
salary to the end of the season.  We are quits.  I do not have to
do even that, but no one can say that James Sparling doesn't do
business on the square."
The manager turned a shade paler.
"I--I'm sorry.  When--when do you wish me to leave?"
"Now--this minute!  I want you to get off this car, and if you
don't get off bag and baggage inside of five minutes, I shall
make it my personal business to throw you off," announced the
showman with rising color.  He had contained himself as long as
he could.  The indignities to which his Circus Boys had been
subjected, ever since they joined the car, had stirred the
showman profoundly.
"It is now a quarter to twelve.  At noon sharp, your baggage and
yourself will be outside of this car.  I am in charge here now."
The showman leaned back and watched his former car manager
hurriedly pack his belongings into a suitcase.
"I'll get even with you for this," snarled Snowden as he walked
from the car, slamming the door after him.
"And a good riddance!" muttered the showman rising.  "This will
be a good time for me to look over the books and find out what
shape the car is in."
Mr. Sparling pressed an electric button, and Henry, the porter,
responded to the summons.
"Has Mr. Forrest returned yet?"
"Is Mr. Conley out there?"
"Send him in."
Billy entered the stateroom, a broad smile on his face.
"Sit down, Billy.  Well, our friend has gone.  I suppose you
"On the contrary," replied Billy promptly, "I am tickled
half to death.  Now we'll be able to do some real work!
We'll show you what we can do!  By the way, Mr. Sparling,
are you intending to carry out the plan you told me about
this morning?"
"Yes.  You will have a chance next year."
"Thank you, sir."
"Now, we will go over the books together.  I shall have to ask
you some questions as we go along.  Please first tell the porter
to send Phil and Teddy in when they return, but not to tell them
who is here."
Billy went out and gave the showman's orders to the porter.
As it chanced there were none of the other men of the crew
on board the car at that time.  They knew nothing about the
change that was taking place.
Upon Billy's return he and his chief settled down to a busy few
minutes of going over books and reports.  The chief found many
things that did not please him, and his anger grew apace at some
"I guess I did a good job in getting rid of Snowden.  What I
should have done was to have got rid of him before I joined him
out in the spring."
"He was a bad one," agreed Billy.  "I can work with most anybody,
but I never could work with the likes of him.  The boys are
all right.  He wouldn't have had any trouble with them if he'd
used them like human beings.  They both put up with more than
I would have stood.  But I tell you, that boy, Teddy--Spotted
Horse, the boys call him--did hand it out to the Boss.
If Snowden had stayed here much longer I'd been willing
to lay odds that Teddy would have run him off the car.
Did I tell you about how Phil posted the silo?"
"No; what about it?"
Billy began an enthusiastic narration of Phil's clever piece of
work, Mr. Sparling nodding as the story proceeded.
"I am not surprised.  He is a natural born showman.  You will
hear great things from Phil Forrest some of these days, and his
friend, Teddy, will not be so far behind, either, when once he
gets settled down."
"I guess they are coming now," spoke up Conley.  "Somebody got on
the back platform just now.  I'll go out and see."
Billy met the Circus Boys coming in.
"You are wanted in the stateroom," he said.
"More trouble?" laughed Phil.
Billy nodded.
"Maybe, and maybe not, but I reckon the trouble is all over."
Phil and Teddy started for the stateroom.  At the door they
halted, scarcely able to believe their eyes.  There sat
Mr. Sparling, smiling a welcome to them.
"_Mr. Sparling!_" cried Phil dashing in, with Teddy close at
"Yes, I wanted to surprise you," laughed the showman, throwing
an arm about each boy.
"I am so glad to see you," cried Phil, hugging his
employer delightedly.
"And it does my heart good to set eyes on you two once more.
The Sparling organization has not been quite the same since
you left.  And, Teddy, we haven't had any excitement since
"How's the donkey?"
"Kicking everything out of sight that comes near him.  He has not
been in the ring since you left," laughed the showman.
"I wish I was back there.  I don't like this game for a
little bit."
"You mean you do not like the work?"
"Well, no, not exactly that.  The work is all right, but--"
"But what?" persisted Mr. Sparling.
"Never mind, Teddy," interposed Phil.  "No tales, you know."
"I'm telling no tales.  I said I didn't like it and that's
the truth.  May I go back with you, Mr. Sparling?"
"You may if you wish, of course, if you think you want to
leave Phil."
"Is Phil going to stay?"
"Certainly."
Teddy drew a long sigh.
"Then, I guess I'll stay, too, but there's going to be trouble on
this car before the season ends, sir."
"What kind of trouble?"
"I'm going to thrash a man within an inch of his life one of
these fine days."
"I am astonished, Teddy.  Who is the man?"
"Oh, no matter.  A certain party on this car," replied
Teddy airily.
"I sincerely hope you will do nothing of the sort, for conditions
have changed somewhat on Number Three.  Behave yourself, Teddy,
and learn all you can.  You may be a car manager yourself one of
these times, and all this experience will prove useful to you,"
advised Mr. Sparling.
"Not the kind of experience I have been having; that won't be
useful to me," retorted Teddy.
Mr. Sparling and Phil broke out into a hearty laugh, at which
Teddy looked very much grieved.
"Have you seen Mr. Snowden?" questioned Phil, glancing keenly at
his employer.  There was something about the situation that gave
the lad a sudden half-formed idea.
"Yes, I have seen him," answered the showman, his face
sobering instantly.
"Where is he?"
"He has gone away.  I might as well tell you, boys.  Mr. Snowden
is no longer manager of this car.  He is no longer connected with
the Sparling Show in any capacity, nor ever will be again,"
announced Mr. Sparling decisively.
The Circus Boys gazed at him, scarcely able to believe what they
"Not--not on this car any more?" questioned Phil.
"Never again, young man."
"Hip, hip, hooray!" shouted Teddy Tucker at the top of his voice,
hurling his hat up to the roof of the car, and beginning a
miniature war dance about the stateroom, until, for the sake of
saving the furniture, Phil grabbed his friend, threw him over on
the divan and sat down on him.
"Now, Mr. Sparling, having disposed of Teddy, I should like to
hear all about it," laughed Phil.
"He is the same old Teddy.  I can imagine what a pleasant time
Snowden has had with Tucker on board the same car with him.
There is little more to say.  I have been disappointed in Snowden
for sometime.  I had about decided to remove him before you
joined the car.  I wished, however, to send you boys on, knowing
full well that you would soon find out whether there was any
mistake in my estimate of the man.  Then, too, I had other
reasons for sending you in the advance."
"Well, sir, now that he has gone, I will say I am heartily glad
of it, though I am sincerely sorry for Mr. Snowden.  He knew the
work; I wish I were half as familiar with it as he is; but I
wouldn't have his disposition--no, not for a million dollars."
"I would," piped Teddy, whom Phil had permitted to get up.
"I'd be willing to be a raging lion for a million dollars."
"Have you decided what you are going to do with Car Three now?"
inquired Phil.  "You know I am interested now that I have cast
my lot with it."
"Yes; I certainly have decided.  Of course the car will go on
just the same."
"I understand that, but have you made up your mind who you will
appoint as the agent--who will be manager of the car?"
"I presume we shall have to get a man before we can go on?"
"Then we shall have to lie here a day, at least.  Well, we
can busy ourselves.  We are slighting a good many of these
bigger towns.  They are not half-billed."
"I am glad to hear you say that.  It shows that you are already a
good publicity man.  But you will not have to lie here any longer
than you wish," added the showman significantly.
"Will you tell me who the new manager is, Mr. Sparling?"
"Yes.  You are the manager of Car Three!" was the
surprising reply.
THREE CHEERS AND A TIGER
"Man--Manager of Car Three?" stammered Phil.
Teddy's eyes grew large.
"_That_--manager of Car Three?" he said derisively.
Mr. Sparling gave him a stern glance.
"But, Mr. Sparling, I know so little about the work.  Of course I
am proud and happy to be promoted to so responsible a position,
but almost, if not every man on the car, is better equipped for
this work than I am."
"They may be more familiar with some of the details, but as a
whole I do not agree with your view.  In two weeks' time you will
have grasped the details, and I will wager that there will not be
a better agent in the United States."
The Circus Boy flushed happily.
"You will have to be alive.  But I do not need to say that.
You always are alive.  You will have to fight the railroads
constantly, to get your car through on time; you will have
to combat innumerable elements that as yet you have not had
experience with.  However, I have no fear.  I know the stuff
you are made of.  I ought to.  I have known you for nearly
five years."
"I will do my best, Mr. Sparling."
There was no laughter in the eyes of the Circus Boy now.
"Then again, you are going right into territory where you will
have the stiffest kind of opposition.  At least five shows are
booked for our territory almost from now on."
"Have any of them billed that territory?"
"I think the Wild West Show has.  The others are about due
"It is going to be a hand-to-hand conflict, then?"
"Something of that sort," smiled the showman.  "I shall expect
you to beat them all out."
"You are giving me a big contract."
"I am well aware of that.  We all have to do the impossible in
the show business.  That is a part of the game, and the man who
is not equal to it is not a showman."
Phil squared his shoulders a little.
"Then I will be a showman," he said, in a quiet tone.
"That is the talk.  That sounds like Phil Forrest.  It is usual
for shows to have a general agent who has charge of all the
advance work, and who directs the cars and the men from some
central point.  Heretofore I have done all of this myself, but
our show is getting so large, and there is so much opposition in
the field, that I have been thinking of putting on a general
agent next season.  However, we will talk that over later."
"And so you are the car manager, eh," quizzed Teddy.
"It seems so."
"Won't I have a snap now?" chuckled the lad.
"Yes; your work will be done with a snap or back you go to
Mr. Sparling, young man," laughed Phil.  "There will be no
drones in this hive."
"What have you been doing?" inquired the owner.
"I'm the dough boy."
"The dough boy?"
"He has been making paste," Phil informed him.
Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.
"I guess we shall have to graduate you from the paste pot and
give you a diploma.  I cannot afford to pay a man seventy-five
dollars a week to mix up flour and water."
"And steam," corrected the irrepressible Teddy.
"Should not some press work be done from this car?" asked Phil.
"By all means.  It is of vast importance.  Hasn't it been done?"
"No, sir; not since I have been on board.  I would suggest that
we turn Teddy loose on that; let him call on the newspapers,
together with such other work as I may lay out for him.
Teddy is a good mixer and he will make friends of the
newspaper men easily."
"A most excellent idea.  I leave these matters all in your hands.
As to matters of detail, in regard to the outside work, I would
suggest that you consult Conley freely.  He is a good, honest
fellow, and had he a better education he would advance rapidly.
I intend to promote him next season.  Conley told me, this
morning, of your brilliant exploit in billing the silo."
"Oh, you saw him this morning?  Now I understand why he
hurried away and came back all smiles.  You--you told him
I was to be manager?"
"What did he say?"
"He was as pleased as a child with a new toy.  He said you were a
winner in the advance game."
"Will he tell the men?"
"No.  That will be left for you to do in your own way."
Phil nodded reflectively.
"And now let us go into the details.  We will first look over
the railroad contracts, together with the livery, hotel and
other contracts.  I am going to leave you five hundred dollars
in cash, and each week you will send in your payroll to the
treasurer, who will forward the money by express to cover it.
The five hundred is for current expenses.  Spend money with a
lavish hand, where necessary to advance the interests of the
show, and pinch every penny like a miser where it is
not necessary.  That is the way to run a show."
Phil never forgot the advice.
"And Teddy?"
"You may, in addition to your other duties, act as a sort of
office assistant and secretary to Phil.  I shall make only one
request of you.  Write to me every night, giving a full account
of the day's doings, with any suggestions or questions that Phil
may ask you to make, and enclose this with the report sheet.
You understand, Phil, that your regular detailed reports go
to the car behind you.  The one that comes to me is a
brief summary."
"I understand."
"Have you the route?"
"Perhaps it is in the desk.  Yes; here it is.  Now and then we
shall have to make changes in it, of which I shall advise you,
in most instances, by telegraph.  Wire me every morning as to
your whereabouts so I may keep in touch with you."
"You may depend upon me, sir."
"I know it."
For the next half hour Mr. Sparling and Phil were deeply engaged
in poring over the books, the contracts and the innumerable
details appertaining to the work of an advance car.
"There, I guess we have touched upon most everything.  Of course
emergencies will arise daily.  Were it not for those anyone could
run a car.  No two days are alike in any department of the
circus business.  You will meet all emergencies and cope with
them nobly.  Of that I am confident.  And now, Mr. Philip
Forrest, I officially turn over to you Advertising Car Number
Three of the Sparling Shows.  I wish you good luck and no
railroad wrecks.  Come and have lunch with me; then I'll be
getting back to the show.  The rest is up to you."
"Mr. Sparling," said Phil with a slight quaver in his voice, "if
I succeed it will be because of the training you have given me.
I won't say I thank you, for I do not know whether I do or not.
I may make an awful mess of it.  In that case I shall suffer a
sad fall in your estimation.  But it is not my intention to make
a mess of it, just the same."
"You won't.  Come along, Teddy.  We will have a meal, and it
won't be at a contract hotel, either," said the showman, with a
twinkle in his eyes.
The three left the car.  Several of the men had returned from
their lunch, and the word quickly spread through the car that
Mr. Sparling was there.  Rumors of high words between the
showman and Snowden were rife, but none appeared to know
anything definite as to what had really occurred.
Conley knew, but he preserved a discreet silence.
"I reckon, if they wanted us to know what was going on they
would tell us," declared Rosie the Pig.  "That's the trouble
with these cars.  We ain't human.  We ain't supposed to
know anything."
"Rosie, don't talk.  Someday you might make a mistake and really
say something worth listening to," advised Slivers.
For some reason the men evinced no inclination to leave the car.
They hung about, perhaps waiting for something to turn up.
Each felt that there was something in the air, nor were
they mistaken.
It was nearly three o'clock when Phil and Teddy returned to
the car.  Mr. Sparling was not with them.  The lads went direct
to the office, unlocked the door and entered.
The men looked at each other and nodded as if to say, "I told you
so," but none ventured to speak.
After what seemed a long wait Phil stepped from the office,
followed by Teddy.  They heard the lads coming down the corridor.
Phil stopped when he reached the main part of the car.  His face
"Boys," he began, "I have some news for you.  Mr. Sparling has
been here today, as you probably know."
Some of the men nodded.
"The next piece of news is that Mr. Snowden has closed with
the car.  He is no longer manager."
Phil paused, as if to accentuate his words.  The men set up a
great shout.  It was a full minute before they settled down to
listen to his further remarks.
"What I am about to say further is the most difficult thing I
ever did in my life.  I would prefer to turn, or to try to turn,
a triple somersault off a springboard.  Mr. Sparling has
appointed me manager of Car Three.  I suppose, instead of Phil
Forrest, I shall be referred to as The Boss after this."
The whole crew sprang to their feet.
"Three cheers for The Boss!" shouted the Missing Link.
"Hip, hip, hooray!  Tiger!" howled the crew, while Phil stood
blushing like a girl.  Teddy was swelling with pride.
"I'm it, too," he chimed in, tapping his chest significantly.
"Boys," continued Phil, "I probably know less about the actual
work of the advance than any man here.  Anyone of you can give
"No, we can't," interrupted several voices at once.
"I am also younger than any of you.  I know a great deal about
the business back with the show, but not much of what should
be done ahead.  But I am going to know all about it in a very
short time.  While I shall be the Boss, I am going to be the
friend of every man here.  You are not going to be abused.
Just so long as you do your work you will be all right.
The first man caught shirking his work closes then and there.
But I shall have to look to you for my own success.
I'll work _with_ you.  I understand that we have strong
opposition ahead of us.  Let's you and me take off our coats,
tighten our belts, sail in with our feet, our hands and our
heads--and beat the enemy to a standstill!  Will you do it?"
"We will, you bet!" shouted the crew.
"We will beat them to a frazzle," added Rosie the Pig.
"That will be about all from you, Rosie," rebuked the
Missing Link.
"This car leaves at eight o'clock this evening.  After we
get started, come in and I will give you all your assignments
for tomorrow.  My friend, Teddy, has been promoted to the
position of press agent with the car, and a few other things
at the same time.  Henry, you will attend to the paste-making,
beginning tomorrow.  This being a billboard town, I am going
to skip it and get into the territory where the opposition
is stronger.  I have arranged with the local billposters
to take care of the work here."
"That is all I have to say just now, boys.  When you have
anything to ask or to suggest, you know where the office is.
Mr. Conley, will you please come to the office now?  We have
quite a lot to talk over."
The men gave three rousing cheers.
Phil Forrest had made his debut as a car manager in a most
auspicious manner, at the same time winning the loyalty of every
man on the car.
FACING AN EMERGENCY
"Well, this is what I call pretty soft," chuckled Teddy Tucker.
Car Three was under motion again, bowling along for the next
stand, fifty miles away.  The lads were sitting in their cosy
office, Teddy lounging back on the divan, Phil in an easy chair
at the roll-top desk.  The lights shed a soft glow over the room;
the bell rope above their heads swayed, tapping its rings with
the regularity of the tick of a watch.
"Who sleeps upstairs, you or I?" asked Teddy.
"I will, if you prefer the lower berth."
"I do.  It has springs under it."
"You will wish it had no springs, one of these nights, when you
get bounced out of bed to the floor.  Do you know that Pullman
cars have no springs?"
"No; is that so?"
"That is the fact."
"Because, on rough or crooked roads, most of the passengers
would be sleeping in the aisle.  All hands would be bounced out.
You are welcome to the lower berth."
"Shall we turn in and try them?"
"No; I am going to wait until we get to our destination.  I want
to see that the car is properly placed, in view of the fact that
this is our first night in charge.  I want to know how everything
is handled by the railroad.  You may go to bed if you wish."
"No; I guess I will sit up.  I have a book to read.  This is too
fine to spoil by going to bed.  I could sit up all night looking
at the place.  Why, this is just like being on a private car,
"It is a private car."
There were delays along the route to the next stand, and the car
was laid over for more than an hour at a junction point, so that
it was well past midnight when they reached their destination.
Phil and Teddy both went outside when the train entered the
yards, Tucker hopping off as they swung into the station.
"Where are you going?" called Phil.
"Going to see if I can find anything that looks like food,"
answered Teddy, strolling away.  "My stomach must have attention.
It's been hours since it had any material to work with.  Will you
come along?"
"No; I am going to bed as soon as we get placed."
"Bad habit to go to bed on an empty stomach," called back the
irrepressible Teddy.
The train that had drawn them uncoupled and started away; in a
few moments a switching engine backed down, hooked to the show
car and tore back and forth through the yards, finally placing
the car at the far side of the yard behind a long row of
freight cars.
All the men on board were asleep, and now that the car would not
be disturbed before morning, Phil entered his stateroom and went
He had not been asleep long when he felt himself being
violently shaken.  A hand, an insistent hand, was on
his shoulder.
"Phil, wake up!  Wake up!"
The boy was out of bed instantly.
"What is it?  Oh, that you, Teddy?  What did you wake me up for?"
"You'll be glad I did wake you when you hear what I have to say."
"Then hurry up and say it.  I am so sleepy I can scarcely keep my
eyes open.  What time is it?"
"Half-past one."
"Goodness, and we have to get up before five o'clock!  What is it
you wanted to tell me?  Nothing is wrong, I hope."
"I don't know.  But there is something doing."
"Well, well, what is it?"
"I think there is another show car in the yards."
"A show car?"
"You don't say!"
"I _do_ say."
"Who's car is it?"
"I didn't wait to look.  I saw the engine shift it in."
"Where is it?"
"Way over the other side of the station, on the last track."
Phil sprang for his trousers, getting into them in short order,
while Teddy looked on inquiringly.
"Anybody would think you were a fireman the way you tear into
those pants.  What's your rush?"
"Rush?  Teddy Tucker, we have business on hand."
"Yes, business.  It's mighty lucky for us that your appetite
called you out.  I shall never go to sleep again without knowing
who is in the yard, and where.  Come and show me where they are."
"I'm sorry I told you."
"And I am mighty thankful.  You see, something told me to leave
that last town and hurry on."
"Something tells me to go to bed," growled Teddy.
"You come along with me, and be quiet.  Was the car dark?"
"I guess so."
The boys hurried from Car Three; that is, Phil did, Teddy
lagging behind.
"Over that way," he directed.
Phil crawled under a freight car to take a short cut, and ran
lightly across the railroad yards.  The boys passed the station;
then, crossing several switches, they beheld a big, yellow car
looming up faintly under the lights of the station.
"It is an advertising car," breathed Phil.  "I wonder whose it
"You can search me," grumbled Teddy.  "Guess I'll go back to
"You wait until I tell you to go back," commanded Phil.
"Keep quiet, now."
The Circus Boy crept up to the car with great caution.  The light
was so faint, however, that he was obliged to go close to it
before he could read the letters on the side of it.  Even then he
had to take the letters one by one and follow along until he had
read the length of the line.
"Barnum and Bailey's Greatest Show on Earth," was what Phil
Forrest read, and on the end of the car a big figure "4."
"Car Four," he muttered.  "Here's trouble right from the start.
I am right in the thick of it from the word go."
Phil walked back to where Teddy was awaiting him.
"Find out whose car it is?"
"Yes; Barnum & Bailey."
"Humph!  Let's go back to bed."
"There will be no bed for us tonight, I fear.  Wait; let
Phil walked over and sat down on a truck on the station platform,
where he pondered deeply and rapidly.
"All right; I have it figured out.  We have our work cut out
for us.  You wait here while I run back to the car."
Teddy curled up on the truck, promptly going to sleep, while Phil
hurried to the car to get the address of the liveryman who had
the contract for running the country routes for the show.
The lad came running back, and, darting into the station, found
a telephone.  After some delay he succeeded in reaching the
livery stable.
"This is Car Three of the Sparling Shows," he said.
"Yes, Car Three.  I want those teams at our car at two o'clock
this morning.  Not a minute later.  Can't do it?  You've got to
do it!  Do you hear what I say?  I want those teams there at
two o'clock.  Very well; see that you _do!_"
Out to the platform darted Phil in search of Teddy.  The latter
was snoring industriously.
Phil grabbed him by the collar and slammed him down on
the platform.
"Ouch!" howled Teddy.
"Get up, you sleepy-head!"
"I'll friz you for that!" declared Tucker, squaring
off pugnaciously.
"Don't be silly, Teddy.  This is the first emergency we have had
to face.  Don't let's act like a couple of children.  We must
beat the opposition, and I'm going to beat them out, no matter
what the cost or the effort.  Listen!  I want you to go to the
contract livery stable.  Here is the address.  Go as fast as your
legs will carry you."
"What, at this time of night?"
"You go, or you close right here, young man.  Come now, Teddy,
old chap, remember the responsibility of this car rests on your
shoulders almost as much as on mine.  Let's not have any hanging
back on your part."
"I'm not hanging back.  What is it you want me to do?  I'm ready
for anything."
"That's the talk.  Hustle to the livery stable and camp right on
the trail.  See that those teams are here at two o'clock, or by a
quarter after two, at the latest.  Have the men drive up quietly,
and you show them the way.  Don't you go to sleep at the stable.
Now, foot it!"
Teddy was off at a dogtrot.  His pride was aroused.
"I guess we'll clean 'em up!" he growled as he hurried along.
In the meantime, Phil hastened into the station and ran to the
lunch room.  It was closed.
"Pshaw!" he muttered.
Phil now turned toward town on a brisk run.  After searching
about, he found an all-night eating place that looked as if it
might be clean.
"Put me up ten breakfasts.  I have some men that I want to give
an early start.  They haven't time to come here.  Wrap up the
best breakfasts you can get together.  Put in a jug of coffee and
a jug of milk.  I will call for the food inside of half an hour.
Don't delay a minute longer than that.  Hustle it!"
Phil darted out and back to the car.  Every nerve in his body
was centered on the work in hand.  He ran to Conley's berth
and shook him.
"What is it?" mumbled Billy sleepily.
"Get up and come into the stateroom.  There is business on hand."
Billy hopped out of bed, wide awake instantly, and ran to
the stateroom.
Phil briefly explained the situation and what he had planned
to do.  After he had finished Billy eyed him approvingly.
"You're a wonder," he said.  "What about breakfast?"
"I am having some prepared at a restaurant.  But the men will not
have time to eat it.  They may take it with them and eat it on
"I'll rout out the crew," returned Billy, hurrying back into
There was much grumbling and grunting, but as soon as the men
were thoroughly awake they were enthusiastic.  Not a man of them
but that wanted to see this bright-faced, clean-cut young car
manager beat out his adversaries.
By the time the men had washed and dressed the rigs began
to arrive.  These were quickly loaded with brushes, paste
cans and paper, all with scarcely a sound, the men speaking
in subdued tones by Phil's direction.
The darkness before the dawn was over everything.
At last all was in readiness.
Phil handed each man his route.
"Now, boys, it is up to you.  I look to you to put the Greatest
out of business, for one day at least.  You should be out of town
and on the first daub inside of thirty minutes.  I will go with
you and pick up the breakfasts; then you will go it alone.
Don't leave a piece of board as big as a postage stamp uncovered.
Wherever you strike a farmer, make him sign a brief agreement not
to let anyone cover our paper.  Pay him something in addition
to the tickets you give him.  Here is an agreement that you can
copy from.  Make your route as quickly as you can and do it well;
then hurry back here.  I may need you."
"Hooray!" muttered Rosie the Pig.
"Hold your tongue!" commanded Billy, "Think this is a Fourth of
July celebration?"
Phil hopped into one of the wagons, and off they started.  It was
but the work of a few minutes to load the packages of breakfast
into the wagons, after which the men drove quickly away.
Phil paid the bill.  But he was not yet through with his early
morning work.  He made his way to the livery stable.
"Send another rig over to the car at once.  I want you to bring
the day's work of lithographs and banners here, and my men will
work them out from your stables.  I do not want the opposition
car to know what we are doing until it is nearly all done."
"Whew, but you're a whirlwind!" grinned the livery stable man.
The horse and wagon were made ready at once, Phil riding back to
the car with it.  The banner-men and lithographers who were to
work in town had not been awakened.  Phil wished them to get all
the sleep possible; so, with Teddy's help, he loaded the paper on
the wagon and sent the driver away with it.  Then he awakened the
rest of the men.
Phil briefly explained what had happened.
"Now, I want all hands to turn out at once.  Go to the restaurant
on the third street above here and get your breakfasts.  Here is
the money.  By daylight some of the business places will begin
to open.  I want every man of you to spend the forenoon squaring
every place in town.  Make an agreement that no other show is to
be allowed to place a bill in their windows.  While you are
eating your breakfasts I will lay out the streets and assign you.
I have the principal part of the town in my mind, now, so I can
give you the most of your routes.  Teddy, you will turn in and
help square.  I will collect the addresses of the places you
have squared, early in the morning, and by that time I shall
have a squad of town fellows hired, to place the stuff.
Now, get going!"
All hands hurried into their clothes; after locking the car, Phil
led them to the restaurant.  But the Circus Boy did not take the
time to eat.  Instead he busied himself laying out the routes for
the town men to work.
By the time that they had finished their breakfast faint streaks
of dawn were appearing in the east.
"Now, boys, do your prettiest!" urged Phil.
"We will; don't you worry, Boss."
The men hurried off, full of enthusiasm for the work before them,
while Phil started out to round up a squad of men to distribute
the lithographs after his own men had squared the places to
In an hour he had all the men he wanted.  This done, Phil took
his way slowly back to the railroad yards and stepped up to the
platform of his own car.  The freight cars had been removed from
in front of him and the rival car stood out gaudily in the
morning light.  All was quiet in the camp of the rival.  Not a
man of its crew was awake.
"I hope they sleep all day," muttered Phil, entering his own car
and pulling all the shades down, after which he took his position
at a window and watched from behind a shade.
CHAPTER XIII
A BAFFLED CAR MANAGER
It was nearly seven in the morning when Phil's vigil was
rewarded by the sight of a man in his pajamas, emerging
from the rival car.  The man stood on the rear platform and
stretched himself.  All at once he caught sight of Car Three.
The fellow instantly became very wide awake.  Opening the car
door he called to someone within; then three or four men came out
and stared at the Sparling car.
"They are pretty good sleepers over there, I guess," grinned the
rival car manager, for such he proved to be.
The men dodged back, and there was a lively scene in the
rival car.  The men realized that they had been remiss in
their duty in sleeping so late, but still they had not the
least doubt of their ability to outwit their rivals, for
the crew of Car Four was a picked lot who had never yet
been beaten in the publicity game.
About this time Phil Forrest strolled out to the rear platform of
his car.  He was fully dressed save for coat and vest and hat,
yet to all appearances he, too, had just risen.
The manager of the rival car came out and hailed him.
"Hello, young fellow!" he called.
"Good morning," answered Phil sweetly.
"Seems to me you sleep late over there."
"So do you," laughed Phil.  "There must be something in the air
up this way to induce sleep."
"I guess that's right.  Who are you?" inquired the rival manager.
"I am one of the crowd."
"You're the programmer, perhaps?"
"I may be most anything."
The manager of the rival car strolled toward Car Three, whereupon
Phil started, meeting him half-way.  For reasons of his own he
did not wish his rival to get too close to the Sparling car.
"I never saw you before," said the rival, eyeing Phil keenly.
"Nor I you."
"What's your name?"
"Glad to know you, Philip.  How long have you been with the car?"
"A few weeks only."
"Who's your car manager?"
"A fellow named Forrest."
"Never heard of him.  Is he in bed!"
"No; he is out."
"Humph!  What time do you start your men on the country routes?"
"Usually about seven to seven-thirty."
"Well, you won't start them this morning at that time."
"No; I think not."
"I'll tell you what you do; you come and take breakfast with me.
We won't go to any contract hotel, either."
"Thank you; I shall be delighted.  Wait till I get my
clothes on."
Phil hastened back to his own car.
"That fellow is playing a sharp trick.  He is trying to get me
away so he can get his men out ahead of mine.  I will walk into
his trap.  He knows I am the manager.  I could see that by the
way he acted."
Phil stepped out and joined his rival.
"I believe you said you were the manager of that car, did you
not?" asked the rival.
"I am, though I do not recollect having said so."
"A kid like you manager of a car?  I don't know what the show
business is coming to, with all due respect to you, young man."
"Oh, that's all right," answered the Circus Boy with a frank,
innocent smile.  "I am just learning the business, you know."
"I thought so," nodded the rival.  "My name's Tripp--Bob Tripp."
"You been in the business long?"
"Fifteen years, my boy.  After you have been in it as long as I
have, you will know every crook and turn, every trick in the
whole show business," said the fellow proudly.  "You are a
bright-faced young chap.  I should like to have you on my car.
Don't want a job, do you?"
"No, thank you.  I am very well satisfied where I am.  I can
learn on a Sparling car as well as anywhere else, you know."
"Yes, of course."
The couple stopped at the leading hotel of the town, where the
rival manager ordered a fine breakfast.  Phil Forrest was quite
ready for it.  He already had done a heavy day's work and he was
genuinely hungry.
"Guess they don't feed you very well with your outfit,"
smiled Tripp.
"Contract hotels, you know," laughed Phil.  "I do not get a
chance at a meal like this every day."
"Do the way I do."
"How is that?"
"Feed at the good places and charge it up in your
expense account."
"Oh, I couldn't do that.  It would not be right."
"That shows you are new in the business.  Get all you can and
keep all you get.  That's my way of doing things.  I was just
like you when I began."
They tarried unusually long over the meal, Tripp seeming to be in
no hurry.  Phil was sure that he was in no hurry, either.  And he
knew why there was no need for hurry.  Bob, in the meantime, was
relating to the show boy his exploits as a manager.  In fact he
was giving Phil more information about the work of his own car
than he realized at the time.
Now and then the Circus Boy would slip in an innocent question,
which Bob would answer promptly.  By the time the meal was
finished Phil had a pretty clear idea of the workings of his
rival's advance business, as well as their plans for the future,
so far as Tripp knew them.
"By the way, how did you happen to get a berth like this,
young man?" questioned Tripp.  "I thought a fellow by the
name of Snowden was running Car Three for old man Sparling."
"I would rather not talk about that.  You will have to ask
headquarters, or Snowden himself.  You see, it is not my
business, and I make it a rule never to discuss another
fellow's affairs in public."
"Nor your own, eh?"
"Oh, I don't know.  I think I have talked a good deal
this morning.  But you and I had better get back to our
cars and get our men started, had we not?  This is a
late morning all around."
"No hurry, no hurry," urged Bob.  "Why the men haven't got
back from their breakfast yet.  Wait awhile.  Have a smoke."
"Thank you; I do not smoke."
Tripp looked at him in amazement.
"And you in the show business?"
"Is that any reason why a man's habits should not be regular?"
"N-n-n-o," admitted the rival slowly.
"Well, I must be going, just the same.  I have considerable work
to do in the car."
Bob rose reluctantly and followed Phil from the dining room.
He had hoped to detain the young car manager longer, or until
his own men could get a good start on the work of the day.
He looked for no difficulty, however, in outwitting his
young opponent.
As they approached the railroad yards each car stood as they had
left it, shades pulled well down and no signs of life aboard.
"Looks as if your crew was still asleep," smiled Tripp.
"I might say the same of yours, did I not know to the contrary,"
answered Phil suggestively.
Bob shot a keen glance at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing much.  Of course I did not think your men would be
asleep all this time.  They are surely out to breakfast by
"You ain't half as big a fool as you look, are you?" demanded the
rival manager.  "Well, I will see you later."
Each went to his little office and began the work of the day, but
there was a grim smile of satisfaction on the face of each.
Fully an hour passed, and one of the lithographers from the rival
car went aboard with the information that they were unable to get
a piece of paper in any window in town thus far.
"Why not?" demanded Tripp.
"They say their windows are already contracted for," was
"Contracted for?"
"I don't know.  That's all the information we can get."
"Seen any other showmen about town this morning?"
"No; not any that I know, nor any with paper and brush under
"H-m-m-m," mused the showman.  "That's queer.  It can't be that
the young man across the way has got the start of us.  No; that
is not possible.  He is too green for that.  Have his men gone
out on the country routes yet, or are they still asleep?"
"I don't know.  Nobody has seen a living soul around that car
this morning, so far as I know."
"I'll go over town and do a little squaring on my own hook.
I'll soon find out who has been heading us off, if anyone has."
The manager hurried off with his assistant, but even he was
unable to get any information.
He was baffled and perplexed.  He did not understand it.
Tactics entirely new had been sprung on him.  He was an expert
in the old methods of the game, but these were different.
In the meantime, Phil Forrest, the young advance agent, sat
calmly in his stateroom, now and then receiving a report from
Teddy Tucker who sauntered in under cover of a string of freight
cars on the opposite side, then slipped out again.
Teddy was Phil's blockade runner this day.
At noon the party on the rival car all adjourned for luncheon,
and there they were joined by their manager, who discussed the
queer situation with them.  This was the time for Phil Forrest.
"Now for the surprise," he said, hurriedly going uptown, where he
got his own lithographers together, and the crew that he had
hired in town.  Every man had been pledged to silence, as had the
livery stable man and his helpers.
"Now, shoot the stuff out!  Get every window full before those
fellows are through their dinner.  A five-dollar bill for the man
who covers his route first.  The banner locations we cannot fill
so quickly, but they are all secured, so our friend can't take
them away from us.  Now get busy!"
They did.  The men of Car Three forgot that they were hungry.
Never before had the lithographers and banner men worked as they
did that day.  With the extra help that Phil had put on he was
able to cover the ground with wonderful quickness.
When the men of the rival crew emerged from the contract hotel,
and sat down in front to digest the contract meal, they suddenly
opened their eyes in amazement.
In every window within sight of them there hung a gaudy Sparling
circus bill, some windows being plastered full of them.
They called the manager hastily.
"Look!" said his assistant.
"What!  We're tricked!  But they haven't got far with their work.
They haven't had time.  Don't you see, the lazy fellows have just
got to work.  After them, men!  Beat them out!  You've got to out
bill this town!"
As the men hurried out into the other streets the same unpleasant
sight met their eyes.  Every available window bore a Sparling
bill; every wall obtainable had a Sparling banner tacked to it.
One could not look in any direction without his gaze resting on a
Sparling advertisement.
Bob Tripp was mad all through.
He had been outwitted.
In his anger he started for Car Three.  Reaching it he discovered
the young advance agent on the shady side of Car Three, lounging
in a rocking chair reading a book.
Phil's idea of dramatic situations was an excellent one.
"What do you mean, playing such a trick on me?" demanded the
irate rival.
The Circus Boy looked up with an innocent expression on his face.
"Why, Mr. Tripp, what is it?"
"Is that the way you repay my hospitality?" he shouted.
"Please explain."
Phil's tone was mild and soothing.
"You have grabbed every hit in this town.  It's unprofessional.
It's a crooked piece of business.  I'll get even with you
"Why, Mr. Tripp, how can that be, I am green; I am only a
beginner, you know," answered the Circus Boy, with his most
winning smile.
Bop Tripp gazed at him a moment, then with an angry exclamation
turned on his heel and strode back to his own car.
Half an hour later Phil Forrest's men drove in from their
country routes.  They had covered them quickly, having got
such an early start.
Phil heard their reports.  They had left nothing undone.
Phil then hurried over town to pay the bills he had
contracted, first leaving word that not a man was to
leave the car until his return.
He was back in a short time.
"We go out at two o'clock, boys," he announced upon his return.
"I am leaving the banner men here.  They will take a late train
out tonight, and join us in the morning."
An express train came thundering in, and before Bob Tripp knew
what was in the wind it had coupled on to Car Three.  A few
moments later Phil Forrest and his crew were bowling away for
the next stand.  His rivals would not be able to get another
train out until very late that night.
Late in the afternoon Bob Tripp's country crew returned, tired,
disgusted and glum.
"Well, what is it?" demanded the now thoroughly
irritated manager.
"Not a dozen sheets of paper put up by the whole crew," was the
startling announcement.  "That Sparling outfit has plastered
every spot as big as your hand for forty miles around here."
"What!  Why didn't you cover them?" shrieked the manager.
"Cover them--nothing!  They had every location cinched and
nailed down.  Every farmer stood over the other fellow's paper
with a shot gun."
"Sold!  And by a kid at that!" groaned Bob Tripp settling down
despairingly into his office chair.
TEDDY WRITES A LETTER
"I'm only a beginner," mused Phil Forrest, as his car spun along
at a sixty-mile gait.  "And I'm green, and I have a whole lot to
learn, but if Bob Tripp catches up with Car Three, now, he will
have to travel some!"
The next town was made quite early in the afternoon.
Phil, however, did not settle down to wait for another day.
He had wired the liveryman in the next town to meet his car,
so, immediately upon arrival, he bundled his billposters off on
the country routes.
"Work as far as you can before dark, then find places to sleep
at a farmhouse.  Do the best you can.  We must be out of these
yards before noon tomorrow, and as much earlier as possible.
If you can post by moonlight do it, even if you have to wake
the farmers up along the line to get permission."
The men were well-nigh exhausted, but they rose manfully to
the occasion.  They realized that there was a master hand over
them, even if it were the hand of a boy inexperienced in their
line of work.
No manager had ever reeled off work at such a dizzy pace as Phil
Forrest was doing.  It challenged their admiration and made them
forget their weariness.
The country routes started, Phil set his lithographers at work.
The men kept at it until nearly midnight.  They had completed
their work in the town and in the meantime Phil and Teddy had
squared the hits, as they are called--the places where the
banners were to be tacked up--all ready for the banner men to
get to work when they arrived in town next morning, or late
They arrived about midnight, but the other car did not come on
the train with them.  They brought the information that the train
was a limited one, and would not carry the rival car.  Bob Tripp
would not be able to get through until sometime the
next forenoon.
Phil felt like throwing up his hat and shouting with delight,
but his dignity as a car manager would not permit him to do so.
No such limitations were imposed upon Teddy Tucker, however,
and Teddy whooped it up for all that was in him.
All hands were weary when they turned in that night.  At about
eleven o'clock the following morning, the country billposters
came in, having completed their routes.  Phil had made his
arrangements to have his car hauled over the road by a special
engine, and shortly after noon Car Three was again on its way,
every man on board rejoicing over the drubbing they had given
their rival.
Phil Forrest was a hero in their eyes.  Not a man of that crew,
now, but who would go through fire for him, if need be!
That afternoon the same plan was followed, Phil driving his men
out to their work.
"I am sorry, boys," he said.  "I don't like to drive you like
this, but we've simply got to shake off Tripp and his crew.
In a day or so we will be straightened around again so we can
settle down to our regular routine, unless, perhaps, we run
into more trouble.  You have all done nobly.  If it hadn't
been for you I should have been whipped to a standstill by
that other outfit."
"Not you," growled the Missing Link.  "They don't grow the kind
that can whip the likes of you," in which sentiment the entire
crew concurred.
No more was seen of Bob Tripp and his men on that run.
Tripp heard from his general agent, however, with a call-down
that made his head ache.  The general agent kept the telegraph
wires hot for twenty-four hours, and in the end, sent another
car ahead of Tripp into the territory that Phil Forrest and
his men were working.
Phil, of course, was not aware of this at the time, but he found
it out before long.
His car had slipped over into Kansas, by this time, and the crew
were now working their way over the prairies.
"It seems to me that it is time you were attending to your press
work, Teddy Tucker," said Phil on the following day.  "You have
not called at a newspaper office since we started under the
new arrangement."
"Nope," admitted Teddy.
"Why, do you think?"
"I am sure I do not know."
"Well, you ought to, seeing you have been keeping me running my
legs off twenty-four and a half hours out of every day."
"You have been pretty busy, that is a fact.  But you had better
start in today.  You have plenty of time this afternoon to attend
to that work."
"What shall I tell them?"
"Oh, tell them a funny story.  Make them laugh, and they will do
"But I don't know any funny stories."
"Tell them the story of your life as a circus boy.  That will be
funny enough to make a hyena laugh."
"Ho, ho!" exploded Teddy.  "It is a joke.  He who laughs first
laughs last."
"You mean 'he who laughs last laughs best,'" corrected Phil,
smiling broadly.
"Well, maybe.  Something of the sort," grinned the Circus Boy.
"And look here, Teddy!"
"Have you written to Mr. Sparling yet, as he requested you
"And why not?"
"Same reason."
"You must write to him every day, no matter how busy you are.
Sit up a little later every night; go without a meal if
necessary, but follow his directions implicitly."
"Implicitly," mocked Teddy.
However, Mr. Sparling was not without news of what had been
going on on Car Three.  Billy Conley had written fully of
Phil Forrest's brilliant exploits.  After one of these letters,
Mr. Sparling wrote Conley, as follows:
"Those boys will never tell me when they do anything worthwhile.
It isn't like Phil to talk about his own achievements.  So you
write me anything of this sort you think I would like to know.
I do not mean you are to act as a spy, or anything of the sort.
Just write me the things you think they will not write about."
Bill understood and faithfully followed out his
employer's directions.  Mr. Sparling proudly showed
Conley's letters to all of his associates back with
the show, where there was much rejoicing, for everyone
liked Phil; not only liked but held him in sincere
admiration for his many good qualities.
That evening, however, Teddy sat down at the typewriter and
laboriously hammered out a letter to his employer.
"Hang the thing!" he growled.  "I wish I had only one finger."
"Why?  That's a funny wish," laughed Phil.  "Why do you
"Because all the rest of them get in the way when I try to run
a typewriter."
"I am afraid you never would make a piano player, Teddy."
"I don't want to be one.  I would rather ride the
educated donkey.  It's better exercise."  Teddy then
proceeded with his letter.  This is what he wrote:
"Dear Mr. Sparling:"
"Nothing has happened since you were here."
One of the lithographers had a fit in the dining room of the
contract hotel this morning (I don't blame him, do you?) and they
hauled him out by the feet.  We run amuck with another advance
car, the other day, but nobody got into a fight.  I thought rival
cars always--excuse the typewriter, it doesn't know any better--
got into a fight when they met.
"One of the billposters fell off a barn--it was a hay barn,
I think.  I am not sure.  I'll ask Phil before I finish
this letter.  Let me see, what happened to him?  Oh, yes,
I remember.  He broke his arm off and we left him in a
hospital back at Aberdeen.  Phil let one of the banner men
go this morning.  The fellow had false teeth and couldn't
hold tacks in his mouth.  I tell him it would be a good plan
to examine the teeth of all these banner men fellows before
he joins them out, just the same as you would when you're
buying a horse.  Don't you think so?"
"By the way, I almost forgot to tell you.  We ran over a
switchman in the night last night.  I don't think it hurt the
"Well, good-bye.  I'll write again when there is some news.
How's January?  Wish I was back, riding him in the ring.
Expect I'll have an awful time with him when I start in again.
Don't feed him any oats, and keep him off the fresh grass.
I don't want him to get a fat stomach, because I can't get
my legs under him to hold on when he bucks."
"Well, good-bye again.  Love to all the boys."
"Your friend,"
"Teddy Tucker."
"P. S.  Did I tell you we killed the switchman?  Well, we did.
He's dead.  He's switched off for keeps."
"P. S.  Yes, Phil says it was a hay barn that the billposter fell
off from.  Wouldn't it be a good plan to furnish those fellows
with nets?  Billposters are scarce and we can't afford to lose
any good ones."
IN AN EXCITING RACE
"More trouble," announced Teddy, one morning a few days later,
when the boys awoke in Lawrence, Kansas.
"What's the trouble now, Old Calamity?" demanded Phil, who was
washing his face and hands.
Contrary to his usual practice, he had not looked
from his stateroom window immediately upon getting up.
Teddy had, however.  His eyes grew a little larger as
he did so, but otherwise the sight that met them did
not disturb his equanimity in the least.
"The usual."
"What do you mean?  Have we run over another man?"
"Worse than that."
"You are getting to be a regular calamity howler."
"I'm a showman, I am.  I keep my eyes open and I know what's
going on about me.  That's more than you can say for some people
not more than a million miles away."
"All right; I will take that for granted.  But tell me what it is
that is disturbing you so early in the morning?" questioned Phil
with a short laugh.
"We're all surrounded," answered Teddy grimly.
"Surrounded?"
"I don't understand."
"You will, pretty soon."
"Surrounded by what?"
"Opposition."
"What's the matter, can't you hear this morning?"
"I hear very well, but I don't understand what you mean when you
say we are surrounded by opposition.  It strikes me we have been
surrounded by nothing else since we took charge of Car Three."
Teddy nodded.
"Yep, that's right.  But this is different.  On our left, if
you will observe closely, you will notice the canary yellow
of Car Three of the so-called Greatest Show on Earth.  On your
right, if you still keep your eyes open and look hard, you will
discover the flaming red of the Wallace advance car.  And--"
"And, as I was saying, if that fails to make an impression on
you, a glance to the rear will discover to your feeble eyesight,
one John Robinson's publicity car."
Having delivered himself of this monologue, Teddy calmly sat down
and began to draw on his trousers, yawning broadly as he did so.
"Methinks, milord, that trouble is brewing in bucketfuls,"
Phil sprang to the car window, threw up the shade and peered out.
He stepped to the other side of the car, looking from the
window there.
"You're right."
"Of course I am right.  I'm always right.  How does it happen you
did not discover all this after we got in last night!"
"They were not here then.  They must have come in afterwards."
Dashing out into the main part of the car Phil called the men.
"Wake up, fellows!"
"What's up," called a voice.
"The yards are full of opposition.  Three advertising cars are
here besides our own."
No other urging was necessary to get the crew out of bed.
They came tumbling from their upper berths like as many
firemen upon a sudden alarm.  All hands ran to the windows
and peered out.
"Sure enough, they are all here," shouted Conley.  "I reckon they
have caught us napping this time."
"No; they are not awake yet.  I hope they sleep as well as Bob
Tripp's crew did," answered Phil.  "But we have a big job before
us today.  You had better hustle through your breakfasts, boys.
I will call up the livery and get the country routes off at once.
Perhaps we can get ahead of the other fellows."
Phil did so, but as his teams drove up another set swung over the
tracks, pulling up before the canary car.
"Hustle it!  Hustle it!" cried Phil.  "You drivers, if you get
out ahead of the others and keep ahead, you'll get a bonus when
you come in tonight."
Each side was now striving to get away first.  The crew from the
canary car made the getaway ahead of Phil's men, but they had
less than a minute's headway.
The Circus Boys had their coats off and were hustling cans of
paste over the side of the car into the wagons.  Every move on
their part counted.  There was not a particle of lost motion.
Phil sprang into the first wagon to leave.
"Come on, fellows!  Never mind the horses.  I can buy more, if
these break their necks."
With a rattle and a bang both rigs smashed over the tracks,
and were on their way down the village street, each team on
a runaway gallop.  Phil's team was gaining gradually.
"Hang on to the cans!" shouted the Circus Boy.  "We are coming to
a bad crosswalk!"
People paused on the street, not understanding what the mad
pace meant.  A policeman ran out and raised his stick.
Teddy, who had hopped on behind at the last minute, not wishing
to lose any of the fun, now stood up unsteadily, hanging to the
driver's coat collar and nearly pulling that worthy from
They overhauled the first wagon from the canary car and
"Ye--ow!" howled Teddy as their wagon swept by.  "This is a Wild
West outfit!"
The paste cans in the two wagons were dancing a jig by this time.
Teddy suddenly lost his grip on the driver's collar, sitting down
heavily on the nearest can.  At that moment they struck the rough
crossing, whereat Teddy shot up into the air, landing in a heap
by the side of the road.
"Whoa!" commanded Phil, at the same time jumping on the can to
keep it from following in the wake of Teddy.
"Go on!" howled Teddy, partially righting himself.
The driver urged his horses on and the team sprang away with
loud snorts.  But the rival wagon had taken a fresh start,
and was drawing up on the Sparling outfit, the rear team,
with lowered heads, appearing to be running away.
These horses struck the crosswalk with a mighty crash.  The rear
wheels slewed.  The big can of paste was catapulted over a fence,
narrowly missing Teddy Tucker's head as it shot over him.
He flattened himself on the ground, but was up like a flash,
sprinting out of harm's way.
There was reason for his last action.  Other things were coming
his way.  As the wheels of the rival wagon slewed, they struck
The wagon turned turtle, and men, paste brushes, paper and all
were scattered all over the place.
"Oh, that's too bad!" muttered Phil.  "But we can do nothing
for them if we stop.  There are plenty back there to
lend assistance."
His tender heart told him to go back, whether he could be of
service to his rival or not, but his duty lay plain before him.
He must outdistance the enemy.
A second team came plunging down the road from the canary car,
close behind the unfortunate wagon.  These horses, too, were
instantly mixed in the wreck.  The wagon did not turn turtle as
the one before it had done, but one of the horses went down.
Now came other wagons of the Sparling outfit.  They were running
two abreast in the road.  But the drivers saw the obstruction in
time, slowed down and dodged it.  They were off at a tremendous
speed, and a few moments later branched off on different roads,
quickly disappearing in a cloud of dust.
Phil's wagon crew discovered a farm barn just ahead of them.
They drove up to it on a run.  All hands piled out.  And how they
did work!  In a few moments the old barn was a blaze of color.
"First blood for the Sparling Combined Shows!" shouted the boy.
"Now hit the trail for all you are worth!"
They were off again.  A cloud of dust to their rear told them
that one of their rival's wagons was after them.  At the next
stop the pursuing wagon rolled by them, the men
yelling derisively.
"It is the Wallace Show's crowd!" shouted Phil.
"Get after them."
The Wallace people went on half a mile further.  As Phil drew
up on them he shouted to his driver to go on to the next stop.
When they made it finally, they were passed by the crew from
the canary advance car.
It was give and take.  Such billing never had been seen along the
Kansas highway before.  But, up to the present moment, the
Sparling crew had much the best of it.
"This won't do, boys; I have got to get back.  I have no
business here.  Keep this right up.  Don't lag for an instant.
Is there a town near here?"
The driver informed Phil that there was one about a mile ahead
Phil rode on until he reached it.  Here he jumped out, taking a
bundle of paper with him, ordering his men to drive on.  With him
he carried a bucket of paste and a brush.
Phil went to work like a seasoned billposter, plastering every
old stable and tight board fence in the village.  By the time
the rival crews drove in there was little space left for them,
and such spots as were left were all on back or side streets.
"I guess they will know we have been here," decided Phil.  "Now I
must find a way to get back to the car."
Inquiring at the post office he learned where he might be able to
Losing not a minute the boy hunted up the man who owned the
horse, and, by offering to pay him about twice what the service
was worth, got the fellow to take him back.
The journey back to town was executed in almost as good time as
that which Phil had made in driving out.  The rig rattled into
town at a gallop, and Phil was landed on his car again, safe and
sound after his exciting rides.
"Did you beat them," cried Teddy, as Phil drove up.
"We did and we didn't.  But we have got the start of them on
the billing.  Were any of the other men hurt?"
"One of the canary bird crowd got a broken arm.  The others were
pretty well bruised up, but they are still in the ring."
"What is doing in the town?"
"I sent our men out to square the locations.  Told them not to
put up any paper, but to hustle the squaring."
"Good for you, Teddy!  You are a winner.  Where did you learn
that trick?"
"Oh, it's a little trick I picked up the other day.  I'm a
professional publicity man, you know."
"Are our opposition friends doing the same thing?"
"I think not.  I got the start of them by fully an hour.
Worked the same game on them that we did on Tripp the
other day.  You remember?"
Phil nodded.  Indeed, he did remember.
"The men were so excited over the race that they couldn't spend
time to attend to business.  I got a pretty good bump, but I
thought it was a good time to get back in the town and hustle
our fellows, seeing that you had hit the long trail.  I didn't
expect you back before the middle of next week, the rate you
were going."
Phil laughed good-naturedly.
"You remain here and watch the car, Teddy.  I am going to run
over town.  Had your breakfast?"
"Say, I forgot all about that.  I haven't had a thing."
"Your appetite will keep.  I must look around a little.
Something may be going on that needs attention from our side."
Phil had reason, a few minutes later, to be thankful that his
instinct had prompted him to hurry over town.
A BATTLE OF WITS
"The Robinson people, at least, have got to work," muttered the
Circus Boy as he made his way downtown.  Here and there, at rare
intervals, he came across a window bill of the show mentioned.
There were blocks of windows, however, with no billing in them.
Phil interpreted this to mean that his own men had secured the
requisite permission to place their own bills there.
He smiled as he thought of the little trick.  It was an idea
of his own to square locations ahead of the lithographers.
Ordinarily, the lithographer made his rounds with a bundle of
bills on his arm.  Entering a store he would say, "May I place
this bill in your window?"  Phil had adopted the plan of sending
the men around first.  After they had obtained the signed
permission they would go back over the same ground and place
the bills.  This took a little more time, but it had the merit
of fooling his rivals and getting many more places squared than
could have been done in the old way.
Suddenly a great wall loomed ahead of him.
Phil paused and surveyed it critically.
"Wouldn't I like to fasten Sparling banners all over that
place, though.  What a hit that would be.  Why," he added
looking about him, "it could be seen pretty much all
Phil started on, intending to find out who owned the building.
As he did so he saw a man from the canary-colored car entering
the building.  The man was going into a store on the
ground floor.
"I'll bet he is after that very wall.  Oh, pshaw!  Why didn't I
stay in town and attend to my business, as I should have done,
instead of racing over the country at that mad pace?  I'm going
over to see what he is up to."
The Circus Boy hurried along.  Entering the store he saw the
man from the rival car, who proved to be the manager of it,
engaged in earnest conversation with a man whom Phil supposed
to be the proprietor.
After a little the manager of the other car hurried out.
Phil stepped forward.
"Are you the proprietor?" he asked politely.
"Yes; what can I do for you?"
"Do you own this building?"
"No, but I am the agent for it."
"Very good.  You are the man I want to talk with.  I am from the
Sparling Shows.  I should like the privilege of fastening some
banners on that south wall there."
"You're too late, young man.  I just gave the other man
permission to do that."
"Did he pay you?" asked Phil sweetly.
"Did you sign a contract with him?"
"May I ask how much he is to give you for the privilege?"
"Twenty-five dollars."
"He ought to be ashamed to offer you such a mean figure as that
for such a privilege."
The proprietor grew interested.
"Where has he gone?"
"Said he had to talk with someone back with the show by long
distance telephone before he could close the bargain."
Phil glanced apprehensively at the door.
"I guess you had better sell the privilege to me while you have
the chance.  He may not come back, you know; then you will be out
all around."
"I couldn't think of it.  I gave him the privilege of buying
"Money talks, doesn't it, sir?"
"It does, young man.  It always makes such a loud noise around me
that I can't hear much of anything else."
Phil grinned.
"Yes; it's pretty noisy stuff."
The lad calmly drew a big roll of bills from his pocket, placing
it on the counter before the storekeeper.  To the pile he added
his watch, a jackknife, a bunch of keys and a silver matchbox.
"Help yourself," he begged calmly.
"Wha--what?" gasped the storekeeper.
"I said help yourself.  I want that wall.  I leave it to you to
say what is a reasonable price for it--a price fair to you and
to me.  You admit that money talks.  This money is addressing
its remarks to you direct, at this very moment."
The proprietor hesitated, glanced at the money and other articles
that Phil had arrayed so temptingly before him, and turned
reflectively facing the rear of the store.
"I will scribble off a little contract," said Phil softly.
"How much shall we make the consideration?"
"What'll you give?"
"I've got him!" was Phil Forrest's triumphant thought, but he
allowed none of his triumphant feeling to appear in his face.
"Well, were I making the offer I should say the wall was worth
about forty dollars, no other bills to appear on it until
after my show has left town.  But I told you to help yourself.
I'll stick to my word."
"Count me out forty dollars and take it.  I like your style.
Your way of doing business makes a hit with me."
Phil inserted the agreed-upon price in the contract.
"Just sign your name there, please," he said, still in that soft,
persuasive voice.
The storekeeper read the brief contract through, nodded
approvingly, then affixed his signature with the fountain pen
that Phil had handed to him.
This done, the lad counted out forty dollars, stowed the rest
away in his pockets, together with his other belongings, then
extended his hand cordially to the proprietor.
"Thank you very much," murmured Phil, his face all aglow now.
"You're welcome.  When do you put up your bills?"
"At once.  We leave town tonight, and we have a lot of work to
"Let's see; were you one of the fellows mixed up in that race
this morning?"
Phil blushed.
"I am afraid I was very much mixed up in it.
Well, good afternoon."
The lad turned and started for the door.  At that moment
someone entered.  It was the manager of the canary car.
"It's all right.  I'll take the location," he announced, smiling
broadly, as he walked rapidly to where the proprietor was
standing, laying two tens and a five-dollar bill on the counter.
"I--I'm sorry," stammered the storekeeper, flushing.  "I have
just sold it to another party."
The manager's face went several shades paler.
"To--to whom?"
"To that young gentleman there."
The manager whirled and faced Phil.
"Who--who are you?"
"My name is Forrest," answered Phil, smiling easily.  He could
well afford to smile.
"And you--you have bought this location?"
"Whom do you represent?"
"The Sparling Combined Shows."
The Circus Boy's rival flushed angrily.
"I demand that the location be turned over to me instantly!
It belongs to me, and I'll have it if I have to fight for it.
Here's my money, Mr. Storekeeper.  I command you to make out
a paper giving me the right to bill that wall."
"I do not think he will do anything of the sort, my dear sir,"
spoke up Phil.  "I have bought and paid for the location and
I propose to hold it.  You had no more right to it than any
other man.  You did not have the nerve to put down your money
for it when you had the chance, and you lost your opportunity.
You will see the wall covered with Sparling banners in a very
short time."
"I will not!"
"Be on your way, my man.  Let me tell you the Sparling banners
are going up."
"There's my money!" shouted the manager of the canary
colored car.  "The wall is _mine!_"
He dashed out of the store and started for his car on the run.
"If you let those other showmen banner the wall I'll have
the law on you!" announced Phil sternly.  Then the Circus
Boy ran out of the store, starting off at a lively sprint
for his own car.  He caught up with the rival manager in
a moment, passed him and bounded on.  His rival already
was puffing and perspiring under the unusual effort.
"Turn out every man in town!" he called, dashing into the car.
"Teddy, run to the main street and send everyone of our banner
men and lithographers to the Ward Building.  You and Henry carry
over there at once all the banners you can scrape together.
Do not lose a minute.  But wait!  I'll telephone the liveryman
for a wagon to carry the paper, brushes and paste pots over.
You remain here, Henry, and go with the wagon.  Teddy, you
hustle for the men.  Run as if the Rhino from the Sparling
menagerie were charging you!"
Teddy leaped from the car platform and was off, with Phil
sprinting after him in long strides.
They passed the manager of the canary colored car just as they
were running across the switches in the railroad yard.  He was
only then getting to his car.
CHAPTER XVII
THE CHARGE OF THE PASTE BRIGADE
Phil's plans were formed instantly.
He ran to a place where he had seen a painter's sign earlier
in the day.  Reaching there he ordered the painter to send out
to the Ward Building a gang of painters with their swinging
platform, tackle and full equipment, telling the man briefly
what was wanted of him after the apparatus reached the building
in question.
"Now hurry it, and I'll double the price you ask if you get there
and do the work I am asking of you."
The painter needed no further inducement.  Once again money made
its announcement in unmistakable tones.
Phil again started off on a run.  Reaching the Ward Building he
found his banner men and lithographers gathering.  A few moments
after his arrival the livery wagon with the paste, brushes and
paper, came dashing up with Henry, the porter, standing guard
over it.  Teddy had thoughtfully turned out all the available men
in the livery stable and came charging down the street, driving
them before him, howling at every jump.  That is, Teddy was
howling; as he did whenever the occasion presented itself.
By this time quite a crowd had been attracted to the scene,
not understanding what all the excitement was about.  None of
the rival posters had appeared as yet.  Phil had got a very
Telling off three of his banner men he sent them to the roof,
while the painter was preparing to swing his scaffold.
"I am afraid I shall have to block your store for a short time,
Mr. Storekeeper," said Phil, entering the store.  "Our friend is
going to try to take the place by storm, I think, and we shall
have to stand him off."
"He had better not try it," growled the proprietor.
"He will, just the same.  But, with your permission, he will not
get upstairs to the roof while I am here."
"Do whatever you like.  I've got his money, but it's here for him
when he wants it."
Phil, having arranged with the proprietor, went out and gave his
final instructions to his men.
"You are not to let a man through here unless with my
permission," he said.  "I am going up to the roof.  If anything
occurs, call me at once.  Teddy, I leave the front of the store
in your hands while I am away.  There is trouble brewing.  I feel
it in my bones."
"Yes; trouble for the other fellow," grinned Teddy.
In a very short time the painters had succeeded in swinging their
scaffold over the roof.  An interested crowd was watching the
proceeding from the street.
The banner men climbed down on the swinging platform, and, as if
by magic, the Sparling banners began appearing on the big wall.
About this time shouting down in the street drew the attention of
Phil Forrest.  Stepping to the edge of the roof he looked down.
A crowd was pressing his men back.
In the lead was the manager of the canary car.
"Drive them off!" roared Phil.  "Don't let them get by you!"
"We will!" shrieked Teddy Tucker, now in his element.
Phil turned and hurried down the ladder to the upper floor, then
took the stairs in a series of jumps until he had reached the
ground floor.
Teddy Tucker had proved himself a real general.  He had armed his
forces with paste brushes, which he had first thoroughly soaked
in the sticky paste pots.
Teddy was dancing up and down the line.
"Paste them, fellows!" he roared.  "Paste them good and proper.
We'll stick them to the walls when we get them properly daubed!"
With a yell the Sparling crowd began wielding the paste brushes.
They wielded them effectively, too.  Every sweep of the brushes
found a human mark.
Shouts of rage followed the onslaught, above which could be heard
the voice of the manager of the canary car, urging the crowd on
to violence.
Phil came dashing out.
"Drive them back!" he shouted.  "But be careful that you do not
hurt anybody.  Keep your heads, men!"
"Look out--the police are coming!" shouted a voice.
"Never mind the police!  Give it to them!" cried the rival.
A squad of bluecoats came charging down the street.
"Steady, fellows!  Don't do anything that will cause the police
to take you in," cautioned Phil.
The crowd in front gave way as the police charged in; and, as
they did so, the Circus Boy pushed his way to the front of his
A sergeant made for him with upraised club, but Phil did
"Wait a minute, officer!" he cautioned.
"I arrest you for disturbing the peace!" was the stern reply.
"You will do nothing of the sort, sir.  We have not broken
the peace.  We are within our rights, protecting our own
property and the property of this gentleman," pointing to
the proprietor of the store.
"Arrest them!  They are stealing my property!" came the cry from
the rival manager.
"I guess you had better both come over to the police station, and
we will let the captain settle this," decided the sergeant.
"Wait!" commanded the rival.  "I have here an injunction
commanding this fellow to stop work.  I have bought the right to
banner this location, and he has stepped in and taken it away
"Is this right?" demanded the sergeant, appealing to the
storekeeper, whom he knew well.
"No, it's all wrong.  That man has bought nothing.  He left
his money on my counter after I had sold my wall to this
young man here."
"Is this right?" repeated the sergeant turning to Phil.
"I am inclined to think it is.  If that man has obtained an
injunction, he has done so by false representation.  Here is my
contract, properly signed, giving us the right to put up our
banners, and that is exactly what we are going to do in spite of
all the police in the state.  You can't stop us.  You had better
The sergeant glanced over the paper and scratched his head.
He was at a loss what to do.  At that moment a lieutenant came
running up, demanding to know what the trouble was about.
The sergeant explained, handing the contract to his superior.
After perusing it, the lieutenant passed the paper back to Phil.
"You can't stop this man as long as he is not disturbing
the peace.  That fellow's injunction is not worth the paper
it is written on.  This is a contract as plain as the nose
on your face."
"That is the way it strikes me," answered Phil, with a
pleasant smile.
"Disperse the crowd.  Keep half a dozen men on duty here, and, if
there is any further disturbance, lock them all up."
"Thank you," said Phil, edging near the lieutenant.  "And, now
that the matter is all settled, if you will call at the Sparling
advance car this afternoon, at five o'clock, I shall be happy to
furnish you with tickets for yourself and family.  That is not a
bribe, because we have got the matter all straightened out."
The lieutenant smiled.
"I'll do it," he said.  "Five o'clock, you say?"
"Now, get out of here, the whole crowd of you.  And you, young
fellow," indicating the manager of the canary rival, "if you
create any further disturbance in this town, you'll go to the
cooler, and stay there.  Do you understand?"
The rival manager tried to protest, but the lieutenant started
"I want my money!" he shouted.
"Come and get it.  I don't want your money."
"I told you that before," called the storekeeper.
"Go, get your money, and get out of here!" commanded
the lieutenant.
Crestfallen and now thoroughly subdued, the manager of the canary
car made his way through the crowd; his money was thrust into his
hands; then, calling upon his men to follow him, he hurried away.
"There, I guess we won't hear any more from our canary bird
friend today," decided Teddy, strutting about and throwing out
"Not today, perhaps," answered Phil Forrest; "but I am thinking
we have not heard the last of him yet.  We shall have to look
pretty sharply, or he will get the best of us yet.  This is
a game that one person cannot expect to win at every day.
Boys, you may go back to your lithographing now.  The police
will see that we are protected until we have finished bannering
this building."
Phil walked off half a block to survey the work going on high up
"That location is worth five hundred dollars to any show,"
he mused.  "And I got it for forty.  Good job!"
CHAPTER XVIII
THE MISSING SHOW CARS
The work was completed late that afternoon.  The Sparling crowd
had got the best of their rivals in the window work as well.
Sparling show bills were everywhere.
But Phil was thoughtful.  He did not like the methods he was
obliged to follow, yet he knew that it was a part of the
show business.  He had the satisfaction, too, of knowing that
he had done nothing unfair.  He had got the best of his rivals
by perfectly fair methods, and he would pursue no others, no
matter how badly he was beaten.
After making a round of the town, during which he had twice
passed the scowling manager of the canary car, Phil returned
to his own car, as there were frequently matters arising there
that needed his attention.  He found a telegram awaiting him
from Mr. Sparling.
"The greatest work ever done by an advance car.  I congratulate
you all.  Keep it up," was what Phil read.
Phil rubbed his forehead in perplexity.
"Now, how in the world did he find out about this so soon, I
wonder?" questioned the boy.  As a matter of fact, the manager of
the Robinson Show's car, who was a friend of Mr. Sparling, had
wired him of the day's doings.  It was too good to keep, and then
again Mr. Sparling's friend was too delighted at the downfall of
Snowden, the man whom he thoroughly disliked, to be at all
jealous of Phil's triumph.
Phil went over to the yardmaster to find out what train he would
be able to go out on that night.
"We are going to send the whole bunch of you out on number 42,"
was the reply.
"What time does number 42 leave?"
"Half-past eleven."
"What do you mean by 'the bunch of us'?"
"All you advance car fellows.  I have got to do that.  That is
the only train through tonight.  You will have to go on that or
wait until tomorrow morning."
"Very well; I do not know as I care whether my rivals go on the
same train or not.  It would do me no good if I did object."
That night the unusual sight of four advance cars hooked together
was presented to those who chanced to be in the railroad yards
when number 42 pulled out of the station.
Car Three had been coupled up first, the others being hooked on
behind it, with the canary car at the rear.
"I am afraid we shall not cut a very big slice tomorrow, Teddy,"
said Phil after they had got under way.
"What, with all those crews working against us?  It will be a
case of three to one.  Of course we shall do as much as any one
of them, and perhaps a little more, but we cannot expect any
great results."
"Maybe I can think of something," mused Teddy.
"I wish you might."
"What would you say to ditching the other fellows?" asked
Teddy innocently.
"Teddy Tucker, I am ashamed of you!" exclaimed Phil.
"Sometimes I am ashamed of myself, I am so easy.  If it wasn't
for my tender heart, Phil, I would have been a great showman by
"Yes, it really is too bad about your tender heart.  I--"
His words were cut short by a jolt that nearly threw the lads
from their chairs.
"Collision!" yelled Teddy.  "Brace yourself!"
"Don't get excited," laughed Phil.  "They have forgotten or
neglected to couple the airbrake pipes up.  Someday one of
these crews will wreck us all.  I have talked until I am tired.
You see there is air on the front end of this train, but these
show cars have not been coupled up with the air pipes of the
regular train.  It is very bad business.  I'll report it when
we get in tomorrow."
"Let me.  I know how to do it up brown."
"No, I will attend to it myself."
"Say, Phil!"
"If the air was coupled on and the train broke in two in the
middle what would happen?"
"Why it would bring everything up standing.  Breaking the air
circuit would set the brakes the entire length of the train."
"And if the air was not coupled up, what then?"
"In that event nothing would happen."
"The train wouldn't stop?"
"Why do you ask?"
"For information.  What do you suppose I am asking for unless I
want to know."
Teddy relapsed into a moody silence.
"Why don't you go to bed?" Teddy asked after awhile, looking
up suddenly.
"I guess it would be a good idea," replied Phil.  "We shall
have to get up rather early in the morning.  I will set my
alarm for three o'clock.  I have an idea some of the rival
crews will be up and out about that time.  They won't be so
easily beaten tomorrow."
"Oh, I don't know," answered Teddy.  "Maybe so and maybe not.
You can't most always sometimes tell."
"Aren't you going to turn in?" demanded Phil, beginning
"No, not yet.  I am not very sleepy tonight."
"You will be, in the morning, and you will not want to get up,"
cautioned Phil.
"I will take the chance."
Teddy picked up a book and settled himself to read.
Little conversation passed between them after that, and Phil,
tumbling into his berth, was soon asleep.
Teddy eyed him narrowly.  He waited until his companion was
sleeping soundly; then Teddy got up and strolled out to the
rear platform.  It was deserted.  The trainmen did not come
back that far, because the doors of the show cars were kept
locked so they could not.  Show people do not like strangers
Teddy lay down on the platform, peering down between the cars.
"No, no air is coupled on.  They ought to be ashamed of
themselves," he muttered.  "I guess they must have fixed it up
for me on purpose."
Teddy opened the door of Car Three softly, listened, then closed
it again.  Next he leaned out and looked along the tracks, which
he could see fairly well, for the moon was now shining brightly.
"I guess there is no grade here."  Stepping across to the
platform of the car to the rear of him, the boy partially set
the brake until he could feel it grinding on the wheels.
"Now, I think we are all ready," he muttered, as, stepping back
to the platform of his own car, he grasped the coupling lever
firmly with both hands, giving it a mighty tug.
At first it would not budge.  The drawheads of the couplers of
the two cars were straining because of the drag of the brake that
he had but just set.
Teddy loosened the brake a little, then tried the coupling
lever again.
This time it swung over with a bang.  The lad lost his balance
for an instant, and nearly went overboard.
"My, that was a close shave," he exclaimed, hanging desperately
to the platform railing, the wind blowing about him in a
perfect gale.
"Hello, I wonder what has become of our friends?" laughed the
Circus Boy to himself.
Teddy had uncoupled Car Three from the others in their rear, and
the cars of his rivals were dropping behind rapidly.  He could
see the dim lights in the car nearest to him, but even these were
rapidly disappearing.  A few minutes later as the train swept
around a bend, the rival advertising cars disappeared from sight.
Teddy knew that they would stop in a few minutes, and lie
there stalled.
Teddy Tucker had done a very serious thing, but in his zeal he
thought he had accomplished a great feat.  Well satisfied with
his efforts the lad entered his own car softly, undressed in the
corridor and crept quietly to bed.  In a very short time he was
snoring, sleeping the sleep of peace and innocence.
Teddy hardly moved again that night, until he was roused out by
Phil at three o'clock the next morning.
The lad grumbled sleepily and finally tumbled out rubbing
Phil stepped out to the rear platform before dressing, for a
breath of the fresh morning air.
"Why, Teddy!" he called through the open door.
"The opposition cars are not here.  The other train must have
carried them on.  I wonder if those fellows are stealing a march
"Is that so?"
"Yes; come out and see for yourself."
Teddy stumbled out to the platform, gazed about sleepily and
looked solemn.
"No, not here," he said, turning back into the car.
Phil was worried.  He could not imagine exactly what the plans of
his rivals might be.
"I will wire on to the next stand as soon as the telegraph office
opens, and find out if they are there," he decided.
In the meantime Teddy was taking his time about dressing, while
the men of the crew were hurrying into their clothes.  Phil did
the same, then dropped from the car and walked about the yards,
rather expecting to find the cars of his rivals hidden behind
freight cars.
They were nowhere in sight.
"Well, it cannot be helped, even if we are beaten into the
next stand.  This is a small place, but an important one.
I cannot afford to skip it, no matter if the other
fellows have."
Teddy went about his morning duties as usual, solemn faced
and silent, but there was a triumphant gleam in his eyes that
Phil Forrest as yet had failed to observe.
Phil was pacing up and down on the platform station, waiting
uneasily for the operator to appear.  After making ready, the
men went off to breakfast, Teddy hanging about the car, busying
himself with trifling matters.  The car seemed to hold an unusual
interest for him that morning.
At six o'clock the livery rigs drove up and the rural route men
were soon off for their day's work.  Phil started the
lithographers and banner men out soon thereafter.
About that time the operator arrived; Phil wrote a message to
the liveryman at the next town, inquiring if his rivals had
reached there.
The answer came back that nothing had been seen of them.
They had not even passed through.  The operator at the
other end said they were at Salina, where Phil's car was
at that moment.
This was a puzzler.
"I am afraid it will take a better railroad man than I am to
figure this problem out," mused Phil.  "Hey, Teddy!"
"What do you suppose could have become of those other cars?"
"How should I know?"
"They were on this train last night, when we started, and
they have not arrived at the next stand yet.  They surely
are not here."
"Maybe they got a hot journal and had to stop," suggested Teddy.
"Nonsense!  Something has happened to them.  However, it is not
my business to worry about my rivals.  As long as I know they are
not ahead of me I shall not disturb myself.  It is up to me to
improve the opportunity and bill this town from one end to the
other," decided Phil, starting off over town.
The work went on at a lively pace, Phil urging his men to greater
efforts, momentarily expecting to see the canary and red cars
come rolling into town.
But no cars came.  The next train from the direction Phil had
come was not due until nearly noon, the road being a branch road
with little traffic over it.
After a time Phil strolled down to the railroad station.
"Any news?" he asked.
"Yes," answered the operator.  "They have found the cars."
"It seems they broke away from the train during the night and lay
on the main track until morning.  One of the crew walked back ten
miles to the next station to ask for an engine to pull them out.
They will be here on the next train."
"Funny the train crew did not discover that when they put us on
the siding here.  I do not quite understand it yet?" Phil walked
slowly back to his own car, thinking deeply.
PHIL'S DARING PLAN
Teddy was sitting on the platform of Car Three narrowly watching
Phil as he approached.
"Anything doing?" he asked.
"What is it--have you heard from the opposition?"
"Yes.  It seems their cars broke away from us during the night,
and lay all night on the main track miles from anywhere."
"You don't say!" exclaimed Teddy, in well feigned surprise.
"That is what happened.  We are in luck this morning,
Teddy Tucker.  I suppose I should be sorry for our rivals.
But it is the chance of war.  We all have to take them in
the show business."
"We do," answered Teddy sagely.  "At least the other fellow does.
When are they coming in?"
"About noon, I understand.  I should think someone would lose his
job for that piece of carelessness.  If it were my car that had
been laid out there would be trouble; I can assure you of that."
"Yes; I wouldn't stand for a mean trick like that myself."
Phil stroked his chin and surveyed Teddy thoughtfully.  Light was
beginning to dawn upon him.  All at once he recalled his
companion's questions about the air brake pipes the night before.
He fixed his gaze upon Teddy Tucker's scowling face.
"Young man, do you know anything about those cars breaking away?"
demanded Phil sternly.
"I understand they broke away--don't you know that the train
broke in two?"
"Yes," answered Phil dryly; "I have heard something to
that effect."
Phil stepped over to examine the coupling of his own car, Teddy
watching him furtively.
"What I want to know is how it happened," continued Phil.
"Why don't you ask the train crew?  They ought to know."
"I'll ask you instead.  You uncoupled those cars, didn't you?"
Teddy nodded slowly, his eyes on the ground.
"Is it possible that you did a thing like that?"
Teddy nodded again, demanding sullenly:
"Well, we beat 'em, didn't we?"
"Yes; but do you know what would happen, were it known what you
"I'm easy.  What would happen?" Teddy was rapidly assuming a
belligerent attitude.
"You would be arrested, and nothing could keep you from state's
prison, Teddy Tucker."
"Oh, fudge!"
"You may scoff all you will.  It is the truth, nevertheless.
I should not be surprised if there were an investigation over
this affair--"
"And you'll go tell all you know, won't you?"
"Not unless I am put under oath.  If I am, and am asked, I shall
have to tell the truth.  I ought to sail in and give you a good
thrashing here and now."
"You can't do it!"
"Perhaps not, but I could try."  A smile struggled to dissipate
the clouds on Phil's face.  "Listen to me!  Do you know that you
might have imperilled a great many lives by that foolish act of
"In the first place, being cut loose from our train as they were,
they might have continued on, provided we were on a down or up
grade and--"
"We weren't.  I looked to see," interjected Teddy.
"Oh, then you admit the charge.  I am glad that you
have confessed."
"I haven't confessed!" shouted Teddy, his face growing very red.
"If you said that on trial it would be jail for you for some
years to come.  To return to the subject under discussion, all
the men were asleep in those cars, or at least they were supposed
to be.  Had there been another train over the road, last night,
the chances are that it would have run into those show cars
and killed every man in them, besides wrecking the train itself
and killing a lot more people.  I am willing to take long chances
in the line of duty, but I should hope I never would commit a
crime in so doing.  Let this be a warning to you, Teddy Tucker.
Never do a thing like this again.  We will beat our rivals by all
fair means and we will stop there."
Phil paused, eyeing his companion sternly.
Teddy glanced up inquiringly.
"Is the sermon over?" he asked.
"I have no more advice to offer at the present moment.  I hope
for your sake that the inquiry in this matter will not extend
to us.  If it does, I feel sorry for you."
An inquiry did follow.  It was stirred up most thoroughly by the
manager of the canary colored car.  But, fortunately for Teddy
Tucker, no suspicion of the truth ever dawned upon the rival
manager, and the railroad got out of the scrape by disciplining
the train crew that had lost the three cars without knowing it.
However, the lesson was a wholesome one for Teddy, even though he
would not admit the fact.  The lesson lasted him pretty nearly
all the rest of the season.
The three rival cars came rolling into the yards early in
the afternoon of that day.  All hands were angry and ready
for trouble.  Phil passed the time of day pleasantly with
his opponent of the previous day, but the manager of the
yellow car did not deign to make any reply to his greeting.
The hour was late before he was able to start his men out, and by
that time Phil's crew had pretty well covered the town and the
surrounding country, though the posters of the latter territory
had very long drives, and were not expected to return until very
long after dark.
Phil chafed under this, fearing that he would be obliged to miss
the last train out that night, which would again put him on the
same train with his rivals next day.
One of his men would have a thirty-five-mile drive back after he
had finished his day's work.  That would bring the man "home,"
as the return to the car is called, long after midnight in
all probability.
Inquiry at the station and a wire to the division superintendent
failed to get a special engine to haul Car Three out that night.
But in his talk with the station agent Phil learned something
that set him thinking.  He pondered over the information he had
obtained, for sometime.
"I believe I can do it," he muttered.  "Talk about Teddy taking
long chances, I am going to try to take some chances tonight that
are far more dangerous.  But I must do something."
Phil had seen a section gang go out in the morning.  They had not
come in yet, so the Circus Boy strolled over toward the station
shortly after six o'clock waiting for the section gang to return.
They did not come in until after seven o'clock.
As the men were going by the station, having put their
handcar away, Phil motioned to the foreman of the gang,
a bright faced Irishman.
"How are you?" greeted Phil smilingly.
The foreman waved a hand, at which Phil beckoned the man to come
"Are there any more trains over this division tonight?"
"Only number forty-two going west."
"She is due shortly after midnight, is she not?"
"Do you like to go to the circus, Pat?"
"Have you a family?"
"Will you do me a favor if I give you tickets to the show for
yourself and family?"
"That I will.  What show is yours?"
"The Sparling Combined Shows."
"That your car over there?"
"Yes--Car Three."
"You run it?"
"Pretty young fellow to handle a car like that, aren't you?"
"I guess you are right.  However, I am running it just the same."
"What is it you want me to do?"
"In the first place I want you to keep a close mouth.  I do not
want you to speak to a human being about my plans.  There are
some fellows that would like to know them.  They must not."
The foreman grinned understandingly.
"I'm your man."
"I knew you were.  You have a switch key of course?"
"Then I want you to bring your switch key here at half-past two
o'clock tomorrow morning.  You have crowbars in the tool house,
have you not?"
"Bring two of them with you."
"What are you going to do?"
"Never mind now.  I'll tell you when you come around in
the morning.  Do you think you can wake up in time?"
"Sure, I can."
"You may sleep on my car if you wish."
"No; I have a bunk in the tool house.  I will come back and sleep
there after supper."
"Excellent.  Do you want an alarm clock?"
"No; I have one in the shanty.  I often sleep there when I expect
a call to go out on the road during the night."
"I am right, am I not, in my understanding that unless I get
away on forty-two I shall not be able to leave here before
noon tomorrow?"
"That's right.  You are not going on forty-two, then?"
"I think not."
"The other fellows going on forty-two?"
"No; they will not be through billing here before
sometime tomorrow."
The foreman grinned.
"I smell a rat," he said.
"Don't.  It might not be healthful for you if you were to be
too wise.  Be on time and say nothing.  How far is it to the
"Nigh onto twenty-five miles."
"All right.  That's all.  I will have your tickets ready for you
when you come on in the morning.  Good night, if I don't see you
again until then."
All hands save Phil and Teddy went to bed early that night and
the car was soon dark and silent.  The late man from the country
route did not get in until half-past one o'clock in the morning.
He unloaded as quietly as possible, not knowing what plans of the
manager he might disturb were he to make his presence known.
By this time every man of the crew was well aware that their
young manager seldom was without some shrewd plan for outwitting
his competitors, but these plans he ordinarily kept well to
himself until he was ready to carry them out.
Phil busied himself during the night in posting his books, making
out the payroll for the car, and writing the report sheet for the
owner of the show.
Right on the minute at the appointed hour there came a light tap
on the car window.  Phil stepped out to the platform.
"I am ready, sir."  It was the section foreman.
"Come inside," said Phil.  "Do not make any noise, for the men
are all asleep.  I will awaken two of them soon, but I do not
want those other car men to get awake, not for any price."
"Now, what is it you want to do?"
"You are sure there will be no more trains over this road in
either direction tonight?" asked Phil.
"Not a train."
"That's good.  Now I will tell you what I want you to do.  I want
you to open that switch to let us out on the main track."
The foreman opened his eyes.
"But how are you going to get out there?"
"I'll show you after you get the switch open.  There is no
grade up or down between here and the other side of the station,
"No; dead flat till you get ten rods beyond the station, then
Phil nodded thoughtfully.
"Get the crowbars while I call a couple of the men."
The Circus Boy went inside and gently awakened Billy Conley and
Rosie, telling them to dress and report to the office at once.
The men made no protest.  They knew their young manager was
planning some new ruse by which to outwit his rivals.  When they
heard his plan they opened their eyes in wonder.
"Come on, now, and not a word nor a sound out of you, fellows!"
commanded Phil.
Once outside, Phil threw off the brakes and then the foreman of
the section gang brought his knowledge to bear on the situation.
He directed the men to get their crowbars under the rear wheels
of the coach.  After several attempts they succeeded in prying
the car ahead a few inches.  After repeated efforts they got the
car moving slowly.
Now the foreman took a third crowbar; jumping from one side to
the other he relieved the men until the car was making very fair
progress under its human power.
Teddy had been standing on the platform, rubbing his palms in
"Going to push her all the way to Marion like this?" he demanded.
"You keep still up there unless you are looking for trouble,"
warned Phil.  "Get off the platform.  Think we want to drag you
along, too?"
Teddy hopped down, thrust his hands in his trousers pockets, and
watched the operation of moving the heavy car.
It was slow work, but inch by inch Number Three crept nearer to
the station.
"Let me know when we get right on the grade, so I can slap on the
brakes," ordered Phil.
"I'll let you know.  You'll know without my telling you,
At last the car was at the desired point.  Phil sprang to the
platform and set the brakes, while the section man ran back and
closed the switch.
"Here are your tickets," said Phil when the man returned.
"And thank you very much."
"You're welcome, but don't you let on that I have helped you out.
I will sure lose my job if you do."
"You need not worry.  I do not forget a favor so easily as that."
"You better wait till daylight before you start," advised
the foreman.
"Yes, I am going to.  I do not want to take any more chances than
I have to.  There are enough as it is."
"Anything more I can do for you, sir?"
"No, thank you."
"Then, good night."
"Good night," answered Phil.
Teddy did not yet fully understand what his companion's plan
might be.  Billy, on the contrary, understood it fully.
"You beat anything I ever came across," Conley remarked in Phil's
car as the two were standing at the side of the track in front of
Number Three.
"Wait!  Don't throw any flowers at me too soon.  We have not done
it yet.  I understand there is a short up-grade about seven miles
below here.  If we get stalled on that we will be in a fine fix
and likely to get smashed into ourselves.  It looks to me like
a storm.  What do you think?"
"I think yes--thunderstorm.  I saw the lightning a moment ago."
"Good!  I hope it storms.  It will be a good cover to get
away under."
"Slippery rails will be bad for our business, though,"
warned Billy.
"We shall have to take the chance."
They had not long to wait after that.  Day soon dawned but the
skies were dark and forbidding.  As soon as it was light enough
to see well, Phil began to make preparations for his unique trip.
"Now what are you going to do?" demanded Teddy.
"My dear boy, we are going to try to coast all the way to Marion.
We may land in the ditch or we may get stalled, but I am not
going to lie here and waste nearly a day.  Let the other fellows
spend the time here if they wish.  I reckon they will be
surprised in the morning, when they wake up and find Car Three
has dropped off the map."
Teddy uttered a long whistle of surprise.
"Don't you ever find fault with me again for doing a trick like
"What trick was that?" questioned Billy.
"Never mind.  That's my secret.  It isn't any of your affair,"
grumbled Teddy.
"Teddy, you get on the back platform.  Keep your hand on the
brake wheel every second of the time.  Keep your ears open.
When I jerk once sharply on the bell rope set the brakes tight.
If I jerk it twice, just apply them a little to steady the car."
"Pull the bell rope?  Huh!  There isn't any bell."
"I know that, but you can hear the rope slap the top of the
platform roof when I pull it.  Now, get back there.  Don't call
out to me, but attend to your business.  I'll pull the cord when
I am ready for you to release the brake.  We must get away from
here in a hurry."
Teddy hopped from the platform and ran to the rear, where he
awaited the signal.
Phil's plan was a daring one.  For twenty-five miles the road
fell away at a sharp downgrade of sixty feet to the mile and in
some places even greater.  In one spot, as has already been
stated, there was a sharp up-grade for a short distance.
It was Phil's purpose to coast the twenty-five miles in order
to reach the next stand in time for the day's work.  It was a
risky undertaking.  Besides the danger of a possible collision
with an extra sent over the road, there was the added danger
of the car getting beyond their control and toppling over into
The Circus Boy had weighed all these chances well before starting
on his undertaking.
"I guess we will be moving now," he said, giving the bell cord a
pull, then throwing off the brake, Teddy performing the same
service at the other end of the car.
Car Number Three did not start at once.
Phil and Billy jumped up and down on the platform in excitement.
"She's moving," exulted Phil.  "We're off."
A faint "yee--ow!" from the rear platform was evidence that Teddy
Tucker also had discovered this fact.
"That boy!" grumbled Phil.
At first the show car moved slowly; then little by little it
began to gather headway.  Rattling over switches, past lines of
box cars, on past rows of houses that backed up against the
railroad's right of way, they rumbled.  A few moments later Car
Three shot out into the open country at a lively rate of speed.
ON A WILDCAT RUN
"This is great!" cried Billy.
Phil Forrest, however, was keeping his eyes steadily on
the shining rails ahead.  All at once the storm broke.
The lightning seemed to rend the heavens before them.
Then the rain came down in a deluge.
So heavy was the rainfall that the young pilot could see only
a few car lengths ahead of him.  Instinctively he tightened the
brakes slightly.  The car was swaying giddily, not having a
train with it to steady it.
"We ought to be near that grade the section man told us about,"
said Conley.
"Yes; I was just thinking of that.  I guess I had better let her
out, so we shall be sure to make it."
Phil threw off the brake wheel and Car Three shot ahead like a
great projectile, rocking from side to side, moving at such high
speed that the joints in the rails gave off a steady purring
sound under the wheels.
The wildcat car struck the grade with a lurch and a bang,
climbing it at a tremendous pace.
The two men on the front platform were compelled to hold on with
their full strength, in order to keep from being hurled into the
ditch beside the track.
"I hope Teddy is all right," shouted Phil.
Billy leaned out over the side looking back.  Teddy, who was also
leaning out, peering ahead regardless of the driving rain, waved
a hand at him.
"Yes; you can't hurt _that_ boy--"
Just then the car plunged over the crest of the hill and went
thundering away down the steep grade.
By this time the men in the car had, one by one, been
shaken awake by the car's terrific pace, and one by one
they tumbled from their berths, quickly raising the
curtains for a look outside.
What they saw was a driving storm and the landscape slipping past
them at a higher speed than they ever had known before.  Three of
the men bolted to the front platform.
"What's the matter?  Are we running away?" shouted a voice in
"Go back, fellows, and shut the door.  Don't bother me.
I'm making the next town."
The men retired to the car, sat down and looked at each other in
blank amazement.
"Well, did you ever?" gasped Rosie.
"Never," answered the Missing Link, shaking his head helplessly.
"He'll be the death of us yet."
"At least we'll be going some if we stay on this car."
"We _are_ going some.  We've been going some ever since the new
Boss took hold of this car.  I hope we don't hit anything.
It'll be a year of Sundays for us, if we do."
"A good many years of 'em," muttered Rosie.
"I hear a train whistle!" shouted Billy, leaning toward Phil.
"I heard it," answered the boy calmly, beginning to tug at the
brake wheel.
"Want any help?" asked Conley anxiously.
"No; you can't help me any." Phil had ceased twisting the wheel.
"What's the matter?"
"The wheels are slipping.  The brakes will not hold them.  If we
are going to meet anything we might as well meet it properly,"
answered Phil calmly, whereupon he kicked the ratchet loose and
spun the brake wheel about.
The car seemed to take a sudden leap forward.
Just then there came a rift in the clouds.
"Look!" cried Billy.
Phil leaned over the rail, peering into the mist.
The track, just a little way ahead of them, took a sudden
bend around a high point of land.  And on beyond the hill
they saw the smoke of an engine belching up into the air
like so many explosions.
"I guess that settles it," said the boy.  His face was, perhaps,
a little more pale than usual, but in no other way did he show
any emotion.
"Shall we tell the men to jump, then go over ourselves?"
"No; we should all be killed.  We will stay and see it through.
The men are better off inside the car."
A yell from Teddy, sounding faint and far away, caused Billy to
lean out and look back.
"Turn on your sand!  Turn on your sand!  She's slipping!"
howled Teddy.
"We haven't any sand.  D'you think this is a trolley car?"
Just then Teddy caught sight of the smoke ahead of them.
He pointed.  His voice seemed to fail him all at once.
"It looks as if we would get all the publicity we want in about
a minute, Billy," said Phil, smiling easily.  "We shall not be
likely to know anything about it, though," he added.
Car Three swept around the bend.
"There they are!" cried Conley.
"Coming head on!" commented Phil.  He seemed not in the least
disturbed, despite the fact that he believed himself to be facing
certain death.
Billy let out a yell of joy.
"They are on another track.  They are not on these irons at all!"
Phil had observed this at about the same instant.  He saw
something else, too.  The road on which the train was approaching
crossed his track at right angles.  The other was a double track
railroad, and the train was a fast express train, tearing along
at high speed.
"We're safe!" breathed Billy, heaving a great sigh of relief.
"No, we are not.  We are going to smash right into them,
_broadside,_ unless we can check our car enough to clear them."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
Billy groaned.  His joy had been short-lived.
"Give Teddy the signal to put on the brakes.  We will make
another attempt to check her."
Phil threw himself into the task of turning the wheel, which he
did in quick, short, spasmodic jerks, rather than by a steady
application of the brakes.
The car slackened somewhat--hardly enough to be noticed.
"Tell Teddy to keep it up.  You had better send one of the men
back to help him."
Billy bellowed his command to the men inside.
"They see us.  They are whistling to us."
Shriek after shriek rang out from the whistle of the approaching
express train, the engineer of which jerked his throttle wide
open in hopes of clearing the oncoming wildcat car.
Phil was still tugging desperately, but without any apparent
nervousness, at the brake wheel.  He finally ceased his efforts.
"I can't do any more," he said; then calmly leaned his arms on
the wheel awaiting results.
Billy did not utter a word.  He, too, possessed strong nerves.
The man and the boy stood there calmly watching the train ahead
of them.  Nearer and nearer to it did they draw.  They could see
the engineer and fireman leaning from their cab, looking back.
Phil waved a hand to them, to which the engine crew responded
"Now for the smash, Billy, old boy!" muttered Phil with the smile
that no peril seemed able to banish from his face.
"Yes; it's going to be a close shave."
The last car of the express train was now abreast of them.
They seemed to be right upon it.  So close were they that Phil
thought he could stretch out a hand and touch it.
Suddenly it was whisked from before them as if by magic.
The engineer had given his engine its final burst of speed.
"Hang on tight!" shouted Phil.  "We're going to sideswipe
"Off brakes!"
Billy gave the bell rope a tug.
Then came a crash, a grinding, jolting sound.  It seemed as if
the red car were being torn from end to end.  Car Three careened,
rocked and swayed, threatening every second to plunge from the
rails over the embankment at that point.
As suddenly as it had come, the strain seemed to have been
removed from it.  Once more Number Three was thundering along
over the rails.
"Yee--ow!" howled Teddy from the rear platform.
The men inside the car were not saying anything.  They were
slowly picking themselves up from the floor, where they had been
hurled by the sudden shock.  The interior of the car looked as if
it had been struck by a tornado.  The contents were piled in a
confused heap at one end of the car, paste pots overturned,
bedding stripped clean from the berths, lamps smashed, and great
piles of paper scattered all over the place.
"Hooray!" yelled Billy in the excess of his joy.  "We're saved."
"Yes," answered Phil with a grin.  "It was a close call, though.
I hope no one in the car is hurt.  You had better go in and
find out.  I am afraid our car has been damaged."
Billy leaned over the side, looking back.
"Yes, we got a beauty of a sideswipe," he said.
The coupling and rear platform of the rear car on the express
train had cut a deep gash in the side of Car Three, along half of
"Any windows left?"
"I don't see anything that looks like glass left in them,"
laughed Conley.
"You watch the wheel a minute.  I will go inside," said Phil.
He hurried into the car.
Phil could not repress a laugh at the scene that met his gaze.
"Hello, boys; what's going on in here?" called Phil.
"Say, Boss," spoke up Rosie the Pig.  "If it's all the same to
you, I think I'll get out and walk the rest of the way."
"Are we on time?" howled Teddy, poking his head in at the
"Better straighten the car out, for we should reach our town
in a few minutes now--"
"I should say we would, at this gait," interrupted a voice.
"Then all hands will have to hustle out to work.  I want to
be out of the next stand sometime tonight.  We go out on
another road, so we shall not have to wait, unless something
unforeseen occurs.  Came pretty near having a smash-up,
didn't we?" suggested Phil.
"Near?"  The Missing Link's emotion was too great to permit him
to finish the sentence.
The car bowled merrily along.  In a short time the two men on the
front platform were able to make out the outlines of the town
ahead of them.  The skies were clearing now, and shortly
afterwards the sun burst through the clouds.
"All is sunshine," laughed Phil.  "For a time it looked as if
there would be a total eclipse," he added, grimly.
Billy gazed at him wonderingly.
"If I had your nerve I'd be a millionaire," said Billy in a
"You probably would break your neck the first thing you did,"
answered Phil with a short laugh.
They were now moving along on a level stretch of track.  Phil set
the brakes a little, and the car slowed down.  In this way they
glided easily into the station, where the Circus Boy brought the
car to a stop directly in front of the telegraph office.
The station agent came out to see what it was that had come in
so unexpectedly.
His amazement was great.
"Well, we are here," called Phil, stepping down from
the platform.  "I guess we are on time."
"Any orders?" shouted Teddy Tucker, dropping from the
rear platform.
"Where--where did you fellows come from?"
"Where's your engine?"
"I'm the engine," spoke up Teddy.  "Wasn't I behind, pushing Car
Three all the way over?"
All hands set up a shout of laughter.
IN A PERILOUS POSITION
The story of Phil Forrest's brilliant and perilous dash quickly
spread about the town.  By six o'clock a great crowd had gathered
about the station to get a look at the car and at the Circus Boy
who had piloted her.
Phil was hustling about in search of an engine crew from the
other road.  He wanted his car moved from the main track,
before some other train should come along and run into him,
thus completing the wrecking that he already had so
successfully begun.
In the meantime Teddy placed himself on view, parading up and
down, looking wise and pompous.  He always was willing to
be admired.  As soon as the newspaper offices were open he made
haste to visit them, and the afternoon papers printed the story
of Car Three's great wildcat dash, displaying the account under
big, black headlines.  The Sparling Shows got a full measure of
publicity that day.
Teddy marked and wrapped copies of the papers containing the
notice, mailing them back to the show for Mr. Sparling to read.
On the margin of one of the papers so sent, Teddy wrote with a
lead pencil, "no news today."
What the Circus Boy's idea of news really was it would be
difficult to say.
Car Three had a fair field for most of the day.  By the time the
rivals got in there were few choice locations for billing left in
The manager of the yellow car tried to induce the railroad
authorities to proceed against Phil for the boy's action in
taking his car over the division without authority.  The road,
however, refused to accede to the demand, and nothing ever was
done about it.  Perhaps Mr. Sparling had something to do with
this, for telegrams were exchanged that day between the owner of
the show and the division superintendent.  In the meantime Phil
did not trouble himself over the matter.  He had too many other
things to think of.
The next stand was to be in Oklahoma.  Phil hoped that, by the
time they reached there, they would be far enough ahead of the
rival cars to shake them off entirely.
That afternoon he and Teddy went over town to look over the work.
One of the first things to attract Phil's attention was a flag
pole towering high above everything else in the city.
"Wouldn't I like to unfurl a Sparling banner from the top of that
pole," exclaimed Phil, gazing up at the top.  "How high is that
pole?" he asked of a man standing near him.
"One hundred feet."
Teddy whistled softly.
"I wonder if I could get the consent of the town authorities to
run some advertising matter up there?"
"Couldn't do it, even if you got the permission," answered
"There is no rope on the pole.  It rotted off a year ago."
"That is too bad.  I had already set my heart on billing
the pole.  It can be seen from all parts of the city, can
"Yes, and a long way out of the city at that."
"Come on, Teddy; let's not look at it.  It makes me feel sad to
think I cannot possess that pole."
"I wonder if you will ever be satisfied?" grumbled Teddy.
"Not as long as there is a spot on earth large enough for a
Sparling one-sheet left uncovered."
"What will you give--what would you give, I mean, to have some
banners put on top of the flag pole?"
"I would give fifty dollars and think I had got off
very cheaply."
Teddy waxed thoughtful.  Several times, that afternoon,
he wandered over to the vicinity of the tall flag pole,
and, leaning against a building, surveyed it critically.
After the fifth trip of this sort, the Circus Boy hurried back
to the car.  No one was on board save the porter.  Teddy began
rummaging about among the cloth banners, littering the floor
with all sorts of rubbish in his feverish efforts to get what
After considerable trouble he succeeded in laying out a gaudy
assortment of banners.  These he carefully stitched together
until he had a completed flag or banner about fifty feet long.
"See here, Henry, don't you tell anybody what I have been doing,
for you don't know."
"No, sir," agreed the porter.
Next Teddy provided himself with a light, strong rope.  All his
preparations completed, he once more strolled over town, where
he joined Phil in watching the work.  But he confided to his
companion nothing of what he had been doing.  Teddy Tucker's
face wore its usual innocent expression.
That night, after supper, he called Billy Conley aside and
confided to the assistant car manager what he had in mind.
"_Forget_ it!" advised Billy with emphasis.
"I can't.  I want to earn that fifty dollars."
"But if you break your neck what good will the fifty do you?"
"If I don't it will do me fifty dollars' worth of good," was the
quick reply.
"How do you expect to do it?"
"I'll show you tonight.  But we shall have to wait till most of
the people are off the streets.  You get away about ten o'clock,
and don't let either Phil or any of the crew know where you
are going.  I will meet you on the other side of the station at
ten o'clock sharp, provided I can get away from Phil."
"I don't like it, but I guess I am just enough of a good fellow
to be willing to help you break your neck.  Have you any family
that you wish me to notify?"
"No one, unless it is January."
"My educated donkey."
"Oh, pshaw!" grumbled Billy.
At the appointed time Teddy made his exit from the car without
attracting the attention of any of the crew.  Phil was busy over
his books, while the men were sitting on piles of paper, relating
their experiences on the road.
Earlier in the evening Teddy had secreted his banners in what is
known as the cellar, the large boxlike compartment under the car
He now hastily gathered up his equipment and hurried to the
station platform.  Billy was already awaiting him there.
"You better give up this fool idea," warned Billy.  "I don't want
anything to do with it.  You can go alone if you want to, but
none of it for mine."
"If you back down now, do you know what I'll do?"
"What will you do?"
"I'll give you the worst walloping you ever had in your life."
"You can't do it."
Teddy whipped off his coat.
"Come on; I'll show you."
Conley burst out laughing.
"The Boss says you are a hopeless case.  I agree with him.
Come on.  I'll help you to break your neck."
They started off together.  When they reached the pole, the pair
dodged into a convenient doorway where they waited to make sure
that they were not observed.
"I guess it is all right," said Teddy.
"How you going to get up there?"
"I brought a pair of climbers that I found in the car yesterday--
the kind those telephone linemen use to climb telephone
poles with.  Won't I go up, I guess _yes!_"
Teddy first strapped the banners over his shoulders, in such a
way that they would not impede his progress; then he put on the
climbers, Billy watching disapprovingly.
All was ready.  With a final glance up and down the street Teddy
strode from his hiding place.
He walked up the pole as if he were used to it.  In a few
minutes the watcher below could barely make him out in the
faint moonlight.
"Look out, when you get up higher.  The pole may be rotten,"
called Billy softly.
"All right.  I'm up to the splice."
Here Teddy paused to rest, being now about halfway up the pole.
Before going higher the Circus Boy prudently wrapped the small
rope that he carried twice around the pole, forming a slip-noose.
He made the free end fast around his body in case he should lose
his footing.
This done, Teddy felt secure from a fall.
He worked his way slowly upward, creeping higher and higher, inch
by inch, cautious but not in the least afraid, for Teddy was used
to being high in the air.
Now and then he would pause to call down to the anxious Billy.
"Stand under to be ready to catch me if I fall," directed Tucker.
"Not much.  You hit ground if you fall," jeered Conley.
Teddy's laugh floated down to him, carefree and happy.
The Circus Boy was in his element.
Finally he managed to reach the top, or nearly to the top
of the pole without mishap.  The slender top of the flag
pole swayed back and forth, like the mast of a ship in a
rolling sea.  It seemed to Teddy as if each roll would be
He felt a slight dizziness, but it passed off quickly.  In fact,
he was too busy to give much heed to it.  With nimble fingers he
unpacked his roll of banners; and, in a few minutes, he was
securing the long streamer to the pole, which he did by lacing it
to the pole with leather thongs, through eyelets that he had
sewed in the cloth.
In a few minutes the great banner fluttered to the breeze.
"Hurrah!" cried Teddy exultingly.  "We're off!"
As he called out Teddy suddenly felt his footing give way
beneath him.  He had thrown too much weight on the climbers,
and they had lost their grip.
CHAPTER XXII
A DASH FOR LIBERTY
"What is it?" cried Billy in alarm.  "I'm hung up--hung down,
"What--what's the matter, are you in trouble?"
"Yes, I'm hanging head down.  I'm fast by the feet.
Help me down!"
"Help you down?  I can't help you.  You will have to get out the
best way you can.  Can't you crawl up and free your feet?"
"No; go get Phil."
"Can you hold on?"
"I--I'll try.  Go get Phil."
Conley dashed away as fast as he could run.
"I knew it, I knew it," he repeated at almost every bound.
Teddy's climbers had lost their grip in the rotting wood.
Before he could recover himself he had tumbled backward.
Fortunately the rope had clung to the pole; he was held fast
but Teddy was hanging with his back against the pole, being
powerless to help himself in the slightest degree.  Again, he
was afraid that, were he to stir about, the rope, which had
slipped down and drawn tight about his ankles, might suddenly
slide down the pole and dash him to his death.
Not many minutes had elapsed before Phil and Conley came
running back.  Phil, at the suggestion of the assistant
manager, had brought a pair of climbers with him, Billy
explaining, as they ran, the fix that the Circus Boy was in.
For a wonder, all the disturbance had attracted no attention on
"Are you all right?" called Phil as he ran to the spot.
"N--no; I'm all wrong," came the answer from above.  "All the
blood in my body is in my head.  I'm going to burst in a minute."
Phil wasted no words.  Quickly strapping on his climbers, he
began shinning up the pole, which he took much faster than Teddy
had done, for the situation was critical.
"Hurry up!  Think I want to stay here all night?"
"I'm coming.  Hang on a few moments longer," panted Phil, for the
exertion was starting the perspiration all over his body.
At last he reached the spot where Teddy was hanging head down.
"Well, you have got yourself into a nice fix!" growled Phil.
"I got the banners up," retorted Teddy.
Phil cast his eyes aloft, and there, above his head, floated the
gaudy banners of the Sparling Show.
"Great!" he muttered.  "But you are lucky if it doesn't cost you
your life and perhaps mine, too.  Now, when I place this rope in
your hands, you hang on to it for all you are worth.  I will make
it fast above, and I think I shall have to cut the rope that
holds your feet.  I see no other way to get you down."
"What, and let me drop?  No, you don't."
"I shall not let you drop if I can help it.  Can't you manage to
get a grip on the pole with your arms?"
"If I were facing the other way, I might."
"Twist yourself.  Aren't you enough of a circus man to do a
contortion act as simple as that?"
Teddy thought he was.  At least, he was willing to try, and he
succeeded very well, throwing a firm grip about the pole.
Phil cautiously climbed above his companion.  None save a trained
aerial worker could have accomplished such a feat, but the Circus
Boy managed it without mishap.  He then made fast a rope about
the pole above the place where Teddy's rope was secured, drawing
it tight above a slight projection on the pole itself, where part
of a knot had been left.
Phil had not secured himself as Teddy had done, but he felt
no fear of falling as long as he had one arm about the pole.
He might slip, but even then the principal danger to be
apprehended was that he might carry Teddy down with him.
"Pass the rope about your body," directed Phil.
"Which rope?"
"My rope--_this_ rope," answered Phil, raising and lowering the
rope that Teddy might make no mistake.  "If you get the wrong one
you will take a fine tumble.  Got it?"
"All right.  When you have secured it about your body let
"I've got it."
"Have you also got a firm grip on the pole?"
"Then look out.  I am going to cut your feet loose.
Are you ready?"
"All ready!"
Phil severed the rope that held Teddy's feet, and the boy did
a half turn in the air, his feet suddenly flopping over until
he found himself in an upright position.  But the twist of the
body had given him a fearful wrench, drawing a loud "ouch!"
from Teddy.  To add to his troubles Tucker found himself unable
"I'm tied up in a hard knot," he wailed.
"What's the trouble?"
"I'm all twisted.  I can't wiggle a toe."
"Well, you don't have to wiggle your toes, do you?"
Phil found the work of extricating his companion a more difficult
matter than he had expected, and to set Teddy free it was
necessary to cut the rope again.
This time the cutting was followed instantly by a wild yell.
Teddy shot down to the splice in the pole, where he struck the
crosspiece with a jolt that shook the pole from top to bottom;
but, fortunately, his arms were about the pole and the crosspiece
had kept him from plunging to the ground many feet below.
"Are you all right?" called Phil.
"No; I'm killed."
"Lucky you didn't break the pole, at any rate."
"Break the pole?  Break the pole?" yelled Teddy, half
in anger, half in pain.  "What do I care about the pole?
I've broken myself.  I won't be able to sit down again
this season.  Oh, why did I ever come with this outfit?"
"Hurry and get down.  We shall have the whole town awake
if you keep up that racket."
Phil let himself down to where Teddy sat rubbing himself
and growling.
"Go on down.  You are not hurt," commanded Phil.
"I am, I tell you."
"Well, are you going to stay up here all night?"
Teddy pulled himself together, preparing for the descent.
"Can you get down alone?  If not I will tie a rope to you to
protect you."
"No; you keep away from me.  I'll get down if you let me alone."
"Teddy Tucker, you are an ungrateful boy."
"I'm a sore boy; that's what I am.  Don't speak to me till
I get down again.  Then I'll talk with you and I'll have
something to say, too.  I want that fifty dollars for
putting the banner up, too."
"Well, wait till you get down, anyhow," retorted
Phil impatiently.
Teddy made his way down, muttering and growling every foot of the
way, followed by Phil at a safe distance, the latter chuckling
and laughing at Teddy's rage.
Young Tucker had nearly reached the base of the pole, when once
more he missed his footing.
Billy Conley was just below him, ready to assist, when Teddy
landed on him, both going down together.
Teddy uttered a yell that could have been heard more than a
As the two struggled to get up, both Teddy and Billy
threatening each other, rapid footsteps were heard approaching
them down the street.  In a moment they saw the flash of a
policeman's shield.
"We're caught!" cried Conley.  "Run for it!"
"Halt!" commanded the officer.  He was almost upon them now.
Phil was still up the pole, where he clung, awaiting the result
of the surprise below.
"What does this mean?" demanded the bluecoat.
"It means you are it!" howled Teddy, bolting between the
officer's legs, causing the bluecoat to fall flat upon
"Run!  Run!" howled Teddy.
Phil sprang from the pole and all hands made a lively sprint for
CHAPTER XXIII
THE DESERTED VILLAGE
But Teddy had distinguished himself.  When the town awakened
next morning there were loud clamorings for the arrest of the
showman who had dared to unfurl a circus advertisement from the
top of the city's flag pole.  The showmen guilty of the deed
were many, many miles away by that time, engaged in other
similar occupations.
At McAlister, a booming western town, the opposition were still
hard on the heels of Car Three.  Try as he would Phil Forrest was
able to shake them off no longer than a few hours at a time.
A new plan occurred to him, and immediately upon his arrival at
McAlister he wired Mr. Sparling to send a brigade into the next
town ahead, to bill the place, in order that Car Three might make
a jump and get away from its rivals.
A brigade, it should be known, is a crew of men that does not
travel on a special car.  They go by regular train, traveling as
other passengers do, dropping off and billing a town here and
there, as directed by wire.
The answer came back that the brigade would relieve him at the
While this had been going on young Tucker had been listening to a
most interesting tale of a deserted town some twenty miles beyond
where they were then working.  The deserted town was known as
Owls' Valley.  It had been a prosperous little city up to within
two months previous, when, for reasons that Teddy did not learn,
the inhabitants had taken a sudden leave.
This information set Teddy Tucker to thinking.
A deserted village?  He wished that he might see it.
He had heard of deserted villages, and this one was of
more than ordinary interest, because, the moment he
heard of it, a plan presented itself to his fertile mind.
"I'll bet they will not only nibble at the bait, but will swallow
it whole," he decided exultingly after he had thoroughly gone
over the plan, sitting off by himself on a pile of railroad iron.
"I'll take Billy into my confidence.  Billy will spread the word,
and then we shall see what will happen."
When Billy came in Teddy called him aside and outlined his plan.
Billy returned from the conference grinning broadly, but Teddy
was serious and thoughtful.
However, he decided not to tell Phil what he had done.
Perhaps Phil might not approve of it.  Phil was so peculiar
that he might visit the rival cars and tell them that
certain information they had obtained was not correct.
Be that as it may, a few hours later three car managers visited
the station, leaving orders that their cars were to be switched
off at Owls' Valley.
"That fellow, Forrest, thought he would play a smart trick on us
and slip into a town not down on his route, where he was going to
have all the billing to himself," said the manager of the yellow
car, late that evening.
"Where is Owls' Valley?" asked one of his men.
"About twenty miles west of here.  It will be a short run.
He will be a very much surprised young man when he wakes up
in the morning and finds us lying on the siding with him."
The train to which the cars were to be attached was not to leave
until sometime after midnight.  When it finally came in all the
advertising car crews were in bed and asleep.  Teddy Tucker,
however, was not only wide awake, but outside at that.
"Couple us up next to your rear car, and put the other fellows on
the rear if you will," he said to the conductor.  "They are going
to Owls' Valley, but we are going through.  Please say nothing to
them about what I have told you.  Here's a pass for
the circus."
The rest was easy.  Soon the train was rumbling away, with Teddy
the happiest mortal on it.  But he did not go to bed.  Not Teddy!
He sat up to make sure that his plans did not miscarry.
Owls' Valley was reached in due time, and the Circus Boy was
outside to make sure that no mistake was made.  He did not
propose that Car Three should, by any slip, be sidetracked
at the deserted village.
Very shortly afterwards they were again on their way, and Teddy
went to bed well satisfied with his night's work.  When the men
woke up early next morning a new train crew was in charge, for
the advertising car was making a long run.
Phil was the first to awaken.  As was customary with him he
stepped to the window and peered out.
"Why, we seem to be the last car on the train.  There were
three opposition cars behind us when we started out last night.
I wonder what that means?"
Quickly dressing, he went out on the platform.  Leaning over he
looked ahead.  Car Three was the only show car on the train.
"That is queer.  I do not understand it at all."
Hurrying in to the main part of the car Phil called to the men.
"Do any of you know what has become of the opposition?" he asked.
"Why, aren't they on behind?"
"No one is on behind.  We are the last car.  Those fellows have
stolen a march on us somewhere.  I can't imagine where they
dropped off, though; can you?"
"Maybe they have switched off on another road," suggested
"No other road they could switch off on.  There is something
more to this than appears on the surface.  I'll go forward and
ask the conductor."
Phil did so, but the conductor could give him no information.
Car Three was the only show car on the train when the present
conductor had taken charge.
Phil was more puzzled than ever.  He consulted his route list, to
make sure that he himself had not made a mistake and skipped a
town that he should have billed.  No; there was only one town he
had missed, and that was the one the brigade was to work.
About this time Teddy sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"What's up?" he inquired, noting that his companion was troubled.
"That is what I should like to know," answered Phil absently.
"Tell me about it.  Anything gone wrong?"
"I don't know.  The opposition has disappeared."
"Disappeared?"
"Yes; they disappeared during the night, and I cannot imagine
where they have gone.  They must have dropped in on some town
that we should have made, and I am worried."
Teddy pulled up a window shade and studied the landscape for
several minutes.
"Curious, isn't it?" he mumbled.
"I might make a guess where they went, Phil."
"You might guess?"
"That's what I said."
"Where do you think they have gone?"
"If I were to make a long-range guess, I should say that perhaps
the cars of the opposition were sidetracked at Owls' Valley."
"Where is that?  I never heard of the place."
"That, my dear sir, is the deserted village.  Lonesome Town, they
ought to call it."
"Where is it?"
"About twenty miles from the last stand; and, if they are there,
they will be likely to stay there for sometime to come."
Phil had wheeled about, studying his companion keenly.
"You seem to know a great deal about the movements of the enemy.
How does it happen that you are so well posted, Teddy Tucker?"
"I was hanging around the station when they gave the order to
have their cars dropped off there," answered Teddy, avoiding the
keen gaze of his companion and superior.
"Did you know the place was deserted?"
Teddy nodded.
"Did _they?_"
Teddy shook his head.
"How did they happen to order their cars dropped off there?"
"I--I guess somebody must have told them that--I guess maybe they
thought we were going there."
"Thought we were going there?"
"Oh, because."
A light was beginning to dawn upon the young car manager.
He surveyed Teddy from beneath half closed eyelids.
Tucker grew restless under the critical examination.
"Say, stop your looking at me that way."
"You make me nervous.  Stop it, I say!"
"Tell me all about it, Teddy," urged Phil, trying hard to make
his tone stern.
"Tell you about what?"
"Why the opposition happened to think we were going to
Owls' Valley."
"Maybe they just imagined it."
"And maybe they did not.  You are mixed up in this, in some way,
and I want to know all about it, Teddy Tucker.  I hope you have
done nothing dishonorable.  Of course I am glad the other fellows
are out of our way, but I want to know how.  Come, be frank
with me.  You are avoiding the question.  Remember I am the
manager of this car; I am responsible for all that is done on it.
Out with it!"
Teddy fidgeted.
"Well, it was this way.  Somebody told them--"
"Well, told them what?" urged Phil.
"Told them they heard we were going to bill Owls' Valley."
"So, that's it, eh?"
Teddy nodded again.
"Did you give out any such information as that?"
Teddy shook his head.
"I won't tell.  You can't make me tell," retorted the
Circus Boy belligerently.
"But you were responsible for the rumor getting out?"
Teddy did not answer.
"And those poor fellows are lying there on the siding,
twenty miles from the nearest telegraph office?"
"I guess so." Tucker grinned broadly.
"And how are they going to get out?"
Phil broke out into a roar of laughter.
"Oh, Teddy, what am I going to do with you?  Do you know you have
done very wrong?"
"No, I don't.  The trouble with you is that you don't appreciate
a good thing when you get it.  You were wishing you could get rid
of the opposition cars, weren't you?"
"Yes, but--"
"Well, you're rid of them, aren't you?"
"Yes, but--"
"And I got rid of them for you."
"Yes, but as I was saying--"
"Then what have you got to raise such a row about?  You got
Teddy curled up and began studying the landscape again.
"I admire your zeal young man, but your methods are open to
severe criticism.  First you imperil the lives of three carloads
of men by cutting them loose from the train; then you climb a
flag pole, nearly losing your own life in the attempt, and now
you have lured three carloads of men to a deserted village, where
you have lost them.  Oh, I've got to laugh--I can't help it!"
And Phil did laugh, disturbed as he was over Teddy Tucker's
repeated violation of what Phil believed to be the right and
honorable way of doing business.
"Billy!" called Phil.
Mr. Conley responded promptly.
"I am not asking any questions.  I do not want to know any more
than I do about this business.  I already know more than I wish
I knew.  I want to say, however, that when any more plans are
made, any schemes hatched for outwitting our rivals, I shall
appreciate being made acquainted with such plans before they
are put into practice."
Teddy looked up in amazement.  He had not the remotest idea that
Phil even suspected who had been his accomplice.  But the car
manager had no need to be told.  He was too shrewd not to suspect
at once who it was that had carried out Teddy's suggestions and
sidetracked the opposition where they would not get out for at
least a whole day.
"Yes, sir," answered Billy meekly.
"I understand that the opposition are where they are likely to
stay for sometime to come?"
"Yes, sir; so I understand."
"Oh, you do, eh?"
"You know all about it?  Well, I thought as much.  But I am
sorry you have admitted it.  That necessitates my reading you
a severe lecture."
This Phil did, laying down the law as Conley never had supposed
the Circus Boy could do.  Billy repeated the lecture to the
rest of the crew, later on, and all agreed that Phil Forrest,
the young advance agent, had left nothing unsaid.  Phil's stock
rose correspondingly.  A man who could "call down" his crew
properly was a real car manager.
While the Sparling Show profited by Teddy's ruse, Phil felt
unhappy that his advantage had come by reason of the falsehood
that Teddy had told; and that night Phil read his young friend
a severe lecture.
"If I find you doing a trick like that again," concluded Phil,
"you close there and then."
CHAPTER XXIV
"Who is the man in charge of Sparling Advance Car Number Three?"
demanded Mr. Starr, manager of "The Greatest Show on Earth."
"A young fellow named Forrest.  That is all I know about him,"
answered the treasurer of the show.
"He used to be a performer and a good one, too," spoke up the
assistant manager.
This conversation took place in the office tent of the show that
Phil Forrest had been fighting almost ever since he took charge
of Car Three.
"He is one of the best bareback riders who ever entered the
forty-two foot ring," continued the assistant manager.
"What has he ever done before?  I never heard of him."
"He has been with Sparling, I think, about five years.
I understand he never did any circus work before that."
"I want that young man," announced the general
manager decisively.
"Probably money will get him," smiled the treasurer.
"I do not wish to do anything to offend Sparling, for he is
an old friend, and one of the best showmen in the country.
I'll write him today, and see what he has to say.  That young
man, Forrest, or whatever his name may be, is giving us more
trouble than we ever had before.  He is practically putting our
men all out of business.  We shall have to change our route, or
close, if he keeps on heading off our advance cars."
"It has come to a pretty pass, if a green boy with no previous
experience is to defeat us.  What is the matter with our advance
men?" demanded the assistant manager.
"That is what I should like to know," answered Mr. Starr.
"I will write Sparling today about this matter."
Weeks had passed and Car Three had worked its way across the
plains, on into the mountainous country.  Car managers had again
been changed on the yellow car; another car had been sent in
ahead of Phil, but to no better purpose than before.
Car Three moved on, making one brilliant dash after another,
sometimes winning out by the narrowest margin and apparently by
pure luck.  Still, Phil Forrest and his loyal crew were never
caught napping and were never headed off for more than a day at
The season was drawing to a close.  One day Phil received a wire
from Mr. Sparling reading:
"Close at Deming, New Mexico, September fifteen."
"Boys, the end is in sight; and I, for one, shall be glad when we
are through," announced Phil, appearing in the men's part of the
car, where he read the telegram from the owner of the show.
The men set up a cheer.
"Now let's drive the other fellows off the map during these
remaining two weeks."
How those men did work!  No man on that car overslept during the
rest of the trip.  Phil seemed not to know the meaning of the
word "tired." All hours of the night found him on duty, either
watching the movements of his car or laying out work ahead,
planning and scheming to outwit his rivals.
At last Car Three rolled into the station at Deming.  It was a
warm, balmy Fall day.
"Now burn the town up with your paper, boys," commanded Phil,
after they had finished their breakfast.  "Come in early tonight.
I want all hands to drop paste pots and brushes tonight, and take
dinner with me.  It will not be at a contract hotel, either.
Dinner at eight o'clock."
"Hooray!" exclaimed Teddy.  "A real feed for once, fellows!
No more meals at The Sign of the Tin Spoon this season!"
The crew of Car Three were not slow about getting in that night.
Every man was on time.  They dodged out of the car with bundles
under their arms, got a refreshing bath, and spick and span in
tailor-made clothes and clean linen, they presented themselves
at the car just before eight o'clock.
"Hello!  You boys do not look natural," hailed Phil, with
a laugh.  "But come along; I know you are hungry, and so
The Circus Boy had arranged for a fine dinner at the leading
hotel of the city, where he had engaged a private dining room
for the evening.
It was a jolly meal.  Everyone was happy in the consciousness of
work well done, in the knowledge that they had outrivaled every
opposition car that had been sent into their field.
The dinner was nearing its close when Phil rose and rapped
"Boys," he said, "you have done great work.  You have been loyal,
and without your help I should have made a miserable failure of
this work.  You know how green I was, how little I really know
about the advance work yet--"
Someone laughed.
"You need not laugh.  I know it, whether you boys do or not.
I asked you to dine with Teddy and myself here tonight, that
I might tell you these things and thank you.  If ever I am
sent in advance again I hope you boys will be with me, every
one of you."
"You bet we will!" shouted the men in chorus.
"And let me add that Mr. Sparling is not ungrateful for the work
you have done this season.  He has asked me to present you with a
small expression of his appreciation.  Teddy, will you please
pass these envelopes to the boys?  You will find their names
written on the envelopes."
Tucker quickly distributed the little brown envelopes.
The men shouted.  Each envelope held a crisp, new
fifty-dollar bill.
"Three cheers for Boss Sparling!" cried Rosie the Pig, springing
to his feet, waving the bill above his head.
The cheers were given with a will.
"I will bid you good-bye tonight," continued Phil.  "Teddy and
myself will take a late train for the East, after we get through.
We are going back to join the show until it closes--"
"Wait a minute, Boss," interrupted Billy Conley, rising.
"This show isn't over yet."
"The Band Concert in the main tent is about to begin."
Phil glanced at him inquiringly.
"All the natural curiosities, including the Missing Link and the
Human Pig, will be on view.  Take your seats in the center ring,
immediately after the performance closes!"
Billy drew a package from his pocket and placed it on the table
"Boss, the fellows have asked me to present to you a little
expression of their good will--to the greatest advance agent that
ever hit the iron trail.  You've made us work like all possessed,
but we love you almost to death, just the same.  I present this
gift to you with our compliments, Boss, and here also is a little
remembrance for our friend, Spotted Horse, otherwise known as
Teddy Tucker."
Billy sat down, and Phil, rising, accepted the gift.  Opening the
package he found a handsome gold watch and chain, his initials
set in the back of the watch case in diamonds.
"Oh, boys, why did you do it?" gasped Phil, in an unsteady voice.
"I've got a diamond stick pin!" shouted Teddy triumphantly.
Phil's eyes were moist.
"Why--why did you--"
" 'Cause--'cause you're the best fellow that ever lived!
Say, quit lookin' at me like that, or I'll blubber right
out," stammered Billy, hastily pushing back his chair and
walking over to the window.
"For he's a jolly good fellow!" struck up Rosie the Pig.
All joined in the chorus, while Phil sat down helplessly,
unable to say a word.
On the second morning thereafter the Circus Boys rejoined the
Great Sparling Shows, where they were welcomed right royally.
Teddy insisted in going on with his mule act that same day.
Even the donkey was glad to see Teddy.  January evinced his
pleasure at having his young master with him again by promptly
kicking young Tucker through the side wall of the pad room,
nearly breaking the Circus Boy's neck.
That day a letter came to Phil from The Greatest Show on Earth.
After reading it, Phil hastened to his employer.
"I have a letter offering us both a contract with The Greatest
for next season.  What do you think of that, Mr. Sparling?" asked
Phil with sparkling eyes.
Mr. Sparling did not appear to be surprised.
"Well, what are you going to do about it?"
"Refuse it, of course.  I prefer to stay with you."
"And I prefer to have you."
"I thought you would."
"But I shall ask you to accept; in fact, I wish you to do so.
You will find the experience valuable.  When you finish your
season with the big show I shall have something of great
importance to communicate to you, if you wish to return to us."
"Yes; so wire on your acceptance right away, my boy, then you and
I will have a long talk."
So it was left.  Phil went on with the show during the remaining
four weeks, then the boys turned their faces homeward, where they
planned to put in a busy winter practicing and studying.
Despite their reluctance to leave Mr. Sparling for a season, they
were looking forward to the coming Spring when they were to join
the other show.  Their experiences there will be related in a
following volume, entitled, "THE CIRCUS BOYS AT THE TOP; Or,
Bossing the Greatest Show of All."
Project Gutenberg Etext: The Circus Boys on the Plains, Or, The
Young Advance Agents Ahead of the Show, by Edgar B P Darlington
This completes the Circus Boys series.
In contradiction to the notice placed above in the text.
This text was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Judith Smith and
Natalie Salter.  We would also like to thank Montell Corporation
Inc., Sarnia plant, for the use of scanning equipment to
facilitate the preparation of this electronic text.
Judith Smith
heyjude@ebtech.net
HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE
DANTE ALIGHIERI
TRANSLATED BY
THE REV. H. F. CARY, A.M.
IN the midway of this our mortal life,
I found me in a gloomy wood, astray
Gone from the path direct:  and e'en to tell
It were no easy task, how savage wild
That forest, how robust and rough its growth,
Which to remember only, my dismay
Renews, in bitterness not far from death.
Yet to discourse of what there good befell,
All else will I relate discover'd there.
How first I enter'd it I scarce can say,
Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh'd
My senses down, when the true path I left,
But when a mountain's foot I reach'd, where clos'd
The valley, that had pierc'd my heart with dread,
I look'd aloft, and saw his shoulders broad
Already vested with that planet's beam,
Who leads all wanderers safe through every way.
     Then was a little respite to the fear,
That in my heart's recesses deep had lain,
All of that night, so pitifully pass'd:
And as a man, with difficult short breath,
Forespent with toiling, 'scap'd from sea to shore,
Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands
At gaze; e'en so my spirit, that yet fail'd
Struggling with terror, turn'd to view the straits,
That none hath pass'd and liv'd.  My weary frame
After short pause recomforted, again
I journey'd on over that lonely steep,
The hinder foot still firmer.  Scarce the ascent
Began, when, lo!  a panther, nimble, light,
And cover'd with a speckled skin, appear'd,
Nor, when it saw me, vanish'd, rather strove
To check my onward going; that ofttimes
With purpose to retrace my steps I turn'd.
     The hour was morning's prime, and on his way
Aloft the sun ascended with those stars,
That with him rose, when Love divine first mov'd
Those its fair works:  so that with joyous hope
All things conspir'd to fill me, the gay skin
Of that swift animal, the matin dawn
And the sweet season.  Soon that joy was chas'd,
And by new dread succeeded, when in view
A lion came, 'gainst me, as it appear'd,
With his head held aloft and hunger-mad,
That e'en the air was fear-struck.  A she-wolf
Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem'd
Full of all wants, and many a land hath made
Disconsolate ere now.  She with such fear
O'erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall'd,
That of the height all hope I lost.  As one,
Who with his gain elated, sees the time
When all unwares is gone, he inwardly
Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I,
Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace,
Who coming o'er against me, by degrees
Impell'd me where the sun in silence rests.
     While to the lower space with backward step
I fell, my ken discern'd the form one of one,
Whose voice seem'd faint through long disuse of speech.
When him in that great desert I espied,
"Have mercy on me!"  cried I out aloud,
"Spirit!  or living man!  what e'er thou be!"
     He answer'd:  "Now not man, man once I was,
And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both
By country, when the power of Julius yet
Was scarcely firm.  At Rome my life was past
Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time
Of fabled deities and false.  A bard
Was I, and made Anchises' upright son
The subject of my song, who came from Troy,
When the flames prey'd on Ilium's haughty towers.
But thou, say wherefore to such perils past
Return'st thou?  wherefore not this pleasant mount
Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?"
"And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring,
From which such copious floods of eloquence
Have issued?"  I with front abash'd replied.
"Glory and light of all the tuneful train!
May it avail me that I long with zeal
Have sought thy volume, and with love immense
Have conn'd it o'er.  My master thou and guide!
Thou he from whom alone I have deriv'd
That style, which for its beauty into fame
Exalts me.  See the beast, from whom I fled.
O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!
For every vein and pulse throughout my frame
She hath made tremble."  He, soon as he saw
That I was weeping, answer'd, "Thou must needs
Another way pursue, if thou wouldst 'scape
From out that savage wilderness.  This beast,
At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none
To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death:
So bad and so accursed in her kind,
That never sated is her ravenous will,
Still after food more craving than before.
To many an animal in wedlock vile
She fastens, and shall yet to many more,
Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy
Her with sharp pain.  He will not life support
By earth nor its base metals, but by love,
Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be
The land 'twixt either Feltro.  In his might
Shall safety to Italia's plains arise,
For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure,
Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell.
He with incessant chase through every town
Shall worry, until he to hell at length
Restore her, thence by envy first let loose.
I for thy profit pond'ring now devise,
That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide
Will lead thee hence through an eternal space,
Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see
Spirits of old tormented, who invoke
A second death; and those next view, who dwell
Content in fire, for that they hope to come,
Whene'er the time may be, among the blest,
Into whose regions if thou then desire
T' ascend, a spirit worthier then I
Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart,
Thou shalt be left:  for that Almighty King,
Who reigns above, a rebel to his law,
Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed,
That to his city none through me should come.
He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds
His citadel and throne.  O happy those,
Whom there he chooses!"  I to him in few:
"Bard!  by that God, whom thou didst not adore,
I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse
I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst,
That I Saint Peter's gate may view, and those
Who as thou tell'st, are in such dismal plight."
     Onward he mov'd, I close his steps pursu'd.
NOW was the day departing, and the air,
Imbrown'd with shadows, from their toils releas'd
All animals on earth; and I alone
Prepar'd myself the conflict to sustain,
Both of sad pity, and that perilous road,
Which my unerring memory shall retrace.
     O Muses!  O high genius!  now vouchsafe
Your aid!  O mind!  that all I saw hast kept
Safe in a written record, here thy worth
And eminent endowments come to proof.
     I thus began:  "Bard!  thou who art my guide,
Consider well, if virtue be in me
Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise
Thou trust me.  Thou hast told that Silvius' sire,
Yet cloth'd in corruptible flesh, among
Th' immortal tribes had entrance, and was there
Sensible present.  Yet if heaven's great Lord,
Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew'd,
In contemplation of the high effect,
Both what and who from him should issue forth,
It seems in reason's judgment well deserv'd:
Sith he of Rome, and of Rome's empire wide,
In heaven's empyreal height was chosen sire:
Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain'd
And 'stablish'd for the holy place, where sits
Who to great Peter's sacred chair succeeds.
He from this journey, in thy song renown'd,
Learn'd things, that to his victory gave rise
And to the papal robe.  In after-times
The chosen vessel also travel'd there,
To bring us back assurance in that faith,
Which is the entrance to salvation's way.
But I, why should I there presume?  or who
Permits it?  not, Aeneas I nor Paul.
Myself I deem not worthy, and none else
Will deem me.  I, if on this voyage then
I venture, fear it will in folly end.
Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know'st,
Than I can speak."  As one, who unresolves
What he hath late resolv'd, and with new thoughts
Changes his purpose, from his first intent
Remov'd; e'en such was I on that dun coast,
Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first
So eagerly embrac'd.  "If right thy words
I scan," replied that shade magnanimous,
"Thy soul is by vile fear assail'd, which oft
So overcasts a man, that he recoils
From noblest resolution, like a beast
At some false semblance in the twilight gloom.
That from this terror thou mayst free thyself,
I will instruct thee why I came, and what
I heard in that same instant, when for thee
Grief touch'd me first.  I was among the tribe,
Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest
And lovely, I besought her to command,
Call'd me; her eyes were brighter than the star
Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft
Angelically tun'd her speech address'd:
"O courteous shade of Mantua!  thou whose fame
Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts!
A friend, not of my fortune but myself,
On the wide desert in his road has met
Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn'd.
Now much I dread lest he past help have stray'd,
And I be ris'n too late for his relief,
From what in heaven of him I heard.  Speed now,
And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue,
And by all means for his deliverance meet,
Assist him.  So to me will comfort spring.
I who now bid thee on this errand forth
Am Beatrice; from a place I come
(Note:  Beatrice.  I use this word, as it is
pronounced in the Italian, as consisting of four
syllables, of which the third is a long one.)
Revisited with joy.  Love brought me thence,
Who prompts my speech.  When in my Master's sight
I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell."
     She then was silent, and I thus began:
"O Lady!  by whose influence alone,
Mankind excels whatever is contain'd
Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb,
So thy command delights me, that to obey,
If it were done already, would seem late.
No need hast thou farther to speak thy will;
Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth
To leave that ample space, where to return
Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath."
     She then:  "Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire,
I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread
Hinders my entrance here.  Those things alone
Are to be fear'd, whence evil may proceed,
None else, for none are terrible beside.
I am so fram'd by God, thanks to his grace!
That any suff'rance of your misery
Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire
Assails me.  In high heaven a blessed dame
Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief
That hindrance, which I send thee to remove,
That God's stern judgment to her will inclines.
To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake:
"Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid
And I commend him to thee."  At her word
Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe,
And coming to the place, where I abode
Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days,
She thus address'd me: "Thou true praise of God!
Beatrice!  why is not thy succour lent
To him, who so much lov'd thee, as to leave
For thy sake all the multitude admires?
Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,
Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,
Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?"
Ne'er among men did any with such speed
Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy,
As when these words were spoken, I came here,
Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force
Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all
Who well have mark'd it, into honour brings."
     "When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes
Tearful she turn'd aside; whereat I felt
Redoubled zeal to serve thee.  As she will'd,
Thus am I come: I sav'd thee from the beast,
Who thy near way across the goodly mount
Prevented.  What is this comes o'er thee then?
Why, why dost thou hang back?  why in thy breast
Harbour vile fear?  why hast not courage there
And noble daring?  Since three maids so blest
Thy safety plan, e'en in the court of heaven;
And so much certain good my words forebode."
     As florets, by the frosty air of night
Bent down and clos'd, when day has blanch'd their leaves,
Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;
So was my fainting vigour new restor'd,
And to my heart such kindly courage ran,
That I as one undaunted soon replied:
"O full of pity she, who undertook
My succour!  and thou kind who didst perform
So soon her true behest!  With such desire
Thou hast dispos'd me to renew my voyage,
That my first purpose fully is resum'd.
Lead on: one only will is in us both.
Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord."
     So spake I; and when he had onward mov'd,
I enter'd on the deep and woody way.
"THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:
To rear me was the task of power divine,
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon ye who enter here."
     Such characters in colour dim I mark'd
Over a portal's lofty arch inscrib'd:
Whereat I thus: "Master, these words import
Hard meaning."  He as one prepar'd replied:
"Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;
Here be vile fear extinguish'd. We are come
Where I have told thee we shall see the souls
To misery doom'd, who intellectual good
Have lost."  And when his hand he had stretch'd forth
To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer'd,
Into that secret place he led me on.
     Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans
Resounded through the air pierc'd by no star,
That e'en I wept at entering.  Various tongues,
Horrible languages, outcries of woe,
Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,
With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds,
Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls
Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd,
Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.
     I then, with error yet encompass'd, cried:
"O master!  What is this I hear?  What race
Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?"
     He thus to me: "This miserable fate
Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv'd
Without or praise or blame, with that ill band
Of angels mix'd, who nor rebellious prov'd
Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves
Were only.  From his bounds Heaven drove them forth,
Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth
Of Hell receives them, lest th' accursed tribe
Should glory thence with exultation vain."
     I then: "Master!  what doth aggrieve them thus,
That they lament so loud?"  He straight replied:
"That will I tell thee briefly.  These of death
No hope may entertain: and their blind life
So meanly passes, that all other lots
They envy.  Fame of them the world hath none,
Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both.
Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by."
     And I, who straightway look'd, beheld a flag,
Which whirling ran around so rapidly,
That it no pause obtain'd: and following came
Such a long train of spirits, I should ne'er
Have thought, that death so many had despoil'd.
     When some of these I recogniz'd, I saw
And knew the shade of him, who to base fear
Yielding, abjur'd his high estate.  Forthwith
I understood for certain this the tribe
Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing
And to his foes.  These wretches, who ne'er lived,
Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung
By wasps and hornets, which bedew'd their cheeks
With blood, that mix'd with tears dropp'd to their feet,
And by disgustful worms was gather'd there.
     Then looking farther onwards I beheld
A throng upon the shore of a great stream:
Whereat I thus: "Sir!  grant me now to know
Whom here we view, and whence impell'd they seem
So eager to pass o'er, as I discern
Through the blear light?"  He thus to me in few:
"This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive
Beside the woeful tide of Acheron."
     Then with eyes downward cast and fill'd with shame,
Fearing my words offensive to his ear,
Till we had reach'd the river, I from speech
Abstain'd.  And lo!  toward us in a bark
Comes on an old man hoary white with eld,
Crying, "Woe to you wicked spirits!  hope not
Ever to see the sky again.  I come
To take you to the other shore across,
Into eternal darkness, there to dwell
In fierce heat and in ice.  And thou, who there
Standest, live spirit!  get thee hence, and leave
These who are dead."  But soon as he beheld
I left them not, "By other way," said he,
"By other haven shalt thou come to shore,
Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat
Must carry."  Then to him thus spake my guide:
"Charon!  thyself torment not: so 't is will'd,
Where will and power are one: ask thou no more."
     Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks
Of him the boatman o'er the livid lake,
Around whose eyes glar'd wheeling flames.  Meanwhile
Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang'd,
And gnash'd their teeth, soon as the cruel words
They heard.  God and their parents they blasphem'd,
The human kind, the place, the time, and seed
That did engender them and give them birth.
     Then all together sorely wailing drew
To the curs'd strand, that every man must pass
Who fears not God.  Charon, demoniac form,
With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,
Beck'ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar
Strikes.  As fall off the light autumnal leaves,
One still another following, till the bough
Strews all its honours on the earth beneath;
E'en in like manner Adam's evil brood
Cast themselves one by one down from the shore,
Each at a beck, as falcon at his call.
     Thus go they over through the umber'd wave,
And ever they on the opposing bank
Be landed, on this side another throng
Still gathers.  "Son," thus spake the courteous guide,
"Those, who die subject to the wrath of God,
All here together come from every clime,
And to o'erpass the river are not loth:
For so heaven's justice goads them on, that fear
Is turn'd into desire.  Hence ne'er hath past
Good spirit.  If of thee Charon complain,
Now mayst thou know the import of his words."
     This said, the gloomy region trembling shook
So terribly, that yet with clammy dews
Fear chills my brow.  The sad earth gave a blast,
That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame,
Which all my senses conquer'd quite, and I
Down dropp'd, as one with sudden slumber seiz'd.
BROKE the deep slumber in my brain a crash
Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself,
As one by main force rous'd.  Risen upright,
My rested eyes I mov'd around, and search'd
With fixed ken to know what place it was,
Wherein I stood.  For certain on the brink
I found me of the lamentable vale,
The dread abyss, that joins a thund'rous sound
Of plaints innumerable.  Dark and deep,
And thick with clouds o'erspread, mine eye in vain
Explor'd its bottom, nor could aught discern.
     "Now let us to the blind world there beneath
Descend;" the bard began all pale of look:
"I go the first, and thou shalt follow next."
     Then I his alter'd hue perceiving, thus:
"How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread,
Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?"
     He then:  "The anguish of that race below
With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear
Mistakest.  Let us on.  Our length of way
Urges to haste."  Onward, this said, he mov'd;
And ent'ring led me with him on the bounds
Of the first circle, that surrounds th' abyss.
Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard
Except of sighs, that made th' eternal air
Tremble, not caus'd by tortures, but from grief
Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,
Of men, women, and infants.  Then to me
The gentle guide:  "Inquir'st thou not what spirits
Are these, which thou beholdest?  Ere thou pass
Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin
Were blameless; and if aught they merited,
It profits not, since baptism was not theirs,
The portal to thy faith.  If they before
The Gospel liv'd, they serv'd not God aright;
And among such am I. For these defects,
And for no other evil, we are lost;
Only so far afflicted, that we live
Desiring without hope."  So grief assail'd
My heart at hearing this, for well I knew
Suspended in that Limbo many a soul
Of mighty worth.  "O tell me, sire rever'd!
Tell me, my master!"  I began through wish
Of full assurance in that holy faith,
Which vanquishes all error; "say, did e'er
Any, or through his own or other's merit,
Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?"
     Piercing the secret purport of my speech,
He answer'd: "I was new to that estate,
When I beheld a puissant one arrive
Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown'd.
He forth the shade of our first parent drew,
Abel his child, and Noah righteous man,
Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv'd,
Of patriarch Abraham, and David king,
Israel with his sire and with his sons,
Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won,
And others many more, whom he to bliss
Exalted.  Before these, be thou assur'd,
No spirit of human kind was ever sav'd."
     We, while he spake, ceas'd not our onward road,
Still passing through the wood; for so I name
Those spirits thick beset.  We were not far
On this side from the summit, when I kenn'd
A flame, that o'er the darken'd hemisphere
Prevailing shin'd.  Yet we a little space
Were distant, not so far but I in part
Discover'd, that a tribe in honour high
That place possess'd.  "O thou, who every art
And science valu'st!  who are these, that boast
Such honour, separate from all the rest?"
     He answer'd: "The renown of their great names
That echoes through your world above, acquires
Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc'd."
Meantime a voice I heard: "Honour the bard
Sublime!  his shade returns that left us late!"
No sooner ceas'd the sound, than I beheld
Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps,
Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad.
     When thus my master kind began: "Mark him,
Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen,
The other three preceding, as their lord.
This is that Homer, of all bards supreme:
Flaccus the next in satire's vein excelling;
The third is Naso; Lucan is the last.
Because they all that appellation own,
With which the voice singly accosted me,
Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge."
     So I beheld united the bright school
Of him the monarch of sublimest song,
That o'er the others like an eagle soars.
When they together short discourse had held,
They turn'd to me, with salutation kind
Beck'ning me; at the which my master smil'd:
Nor was this all; but greater honour still
They gave me, for they made me of their tribe;
And I was sixth amid so learn'd a band.
     Far as the luminous beacon on we pass'd
Speaking of matters, then befitting well
To speak, now fitter left untold.  At foot
Of a magnificent castle we arriv'd,
Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round
Defended by a pleasant stream.  O'er this
As o'er dry land we pass'd.  Next through seven gates
I with those sages enter'd, and we came
Into a mead with lively verdure fresh.
     There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around
Majestically mov'd, and in their port
Bore eminent authority; they spake
Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet.
     We to one side retir'd, into a place
Open and bright and lofty, whence each one
Stood manifest to view.  Incontinent
There on the green enamel of the plain
Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight
I am exalted in my own esteem.
     Electra there I saw accompanied
By many, among whom Hector I knew,
Anchises' pious son, and with hawk's eye
Caesar all arm'd, and by Camilla there
Penthesilea.  On the other side
Old King Latinus, seated by his child
Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld,
Who Tarquin chas'd, Lucretia, Cato's wife
Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there;
And sole apart retir'd, the Soldan fierce.
     Then when a little more I rais'd my brow,
I spied the master of the sapient throng,
Seated amid the philosophic train.
Him all admire, all pay him rev'rence due.
There Socrates and Plato both I mark'd,
Nearest to him in rank; Democritus,
Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes,
With Heraclitus, and Empedocles,
And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage,
Zeno, and Dioscorides well read
In nature's secret lore.  Orpheus I mark'd
And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca,
Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates,
Galenus, Avicen, and him who made
That commentary vast, Averroes.
     Of all to speak at full were vain attempt;
For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes
My words fall short of what bechanc'd.  In two
The six associates part.  Another way
My sage guide leads me, from that air serene,
Into a climate ever vex'd with storms:
And to a part I come where no light shines.
FROM the first circle I descended thus
Down to the second, which, a lesser space
Embracing, so much more of grief contains
Provoking bitter moans.  There, Minos stands
Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all
Who enter, strict examining the crimes,
Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath,
According as he foldeth him around:
For when before him comes th' ill fated soul,
It all confesses; and that judge severe
Of sins, considering what place in hell
Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft
Himself encircles, as degrees beneath
He dooms it to descend.  Before him stand
Always a num'rous throng; and in his turn
Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears
His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl'd.
     "O thou!  who to this residence of woe
Approachest?"  when he saw me coming, cried
Minos, relinquishing his dread employ,
"Look how thou enter here; beware in whom
Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad
Deceive thee to thy harm."  To him my guide:
"Wherefore exclaimest?  Hinder not his way
By destiny appointed;  so 'tis will'd
Where will and power are one.  Ask thou no more."
     Now 'gin the rueful wailings to be heard.
Now am I come where many a plaining voice
Smites on mine ear.  Into a place I came
Where light was silent all.  Bellowing there groan'd
A noise as of a sea in tempest torn
By warring winds.  The stormy blast of hell
With restless fury drives the spirits on
Whirl'd round and dash'd amain with sore annoy.
When they arrive before the ruinous sweep,
There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans,
And blasphemies 'gainst the good Power in heaven.
     I understood that to this torment sad
The carnal sinners are condemn'd, in whom
Reason by lust is sway'd.  As in large troops
And multitudinous, when winter reigns,
The starlings on their wings are borne abroad;
So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.
On this side and on that, above, below,
It drives them:  hope of rest to solace them
Is none, nor e'en of milder pang.  As cranes,
Chanting their dol'rous notes, traverse the sky,
Stretch'd out in long array:  so I beheld
Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on
By their dire doom.  Then I:  "Instructor!  who
Are these, by the black air so scourg'd?"--" The first
'Mong those, of whom thou question'st," he replied,
"O'er many tongues was empress.  She in vice
Of luxury was so shameless, that she made
Liking be lawful by promulg'd decree,
To clear the blame she had herself incurr'd.
This is Semiramis, of whom 'tis writ,
That she succeeded Ninus her espous'd;
And held the land, which now the Soldan rules.
The next in amorous fury slew herself,
And to Sicheus' ashes broke her faith:
Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen."
     There mark'd I Helen, for whose sake so long
The time was fraught with evil; there the great
Achilles, who with love fought to the end.
Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside
A thousand more he show'd me, and by name
Pointed them out, whom love bereav'd of life.
     When I had heard my sage instructor name
Those dames and knights of antique days, o'erpower'd
By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind
Was lost; and I began:  "Bard!  willingly
I would address those two together coming,
Which seem so light before the wind."  He thus:
"Note thou, when nearer they to us approach.
Then by that love which carries them along,
Entreat; and they will come."  Soon as the wind
Sway'd them toward us, I thus fram'd my speech:
"O wearied spirits!  come, and hold discourse
With us, if by none else restrain'd."  As doves
By fond desire invited, on wide wings
And firm, to their sweet nest returning home,
Cleave the air, wafted by their will along;
Thus issu'd from that troop, where Dido ranks,
They through the ill air speeding; with such force
My cry prevail'd by strong affection urg'd.
     "O gracious creature and benign!  who go'st
Visiting, through this element obscure,
Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru'd;
If for a friend the King of all we own'd,
Our pray'r to him should for thy peace arise,
Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.
()f whatsoe'er to hear or to discourse
It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that
Freely with thee discourse, while e'er the wind,
As now, is mute.  The land, that gave me birth,
Is situate on the coast, where Po descends
To rest in ocean with his sequent streams.
     "Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,
Entangled him by that fair form, from me
Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still:
Love, that denial takes from none belov'd,
Caught me with pleasing him so passing well,
That, as thou see'st, he yet deserts me not.
Love brought us to one death:  Caina waits
The soul, who spilt our life."  Such were their words;
At hearing which downward I bent my looks,
And held them there so long, that the bard cried:
"What art thou pond'ring?"  I in answer thus:
"Alas!  by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire
Must they at length to that ill pass have reach'd!"
     Then turning, I to them my speech address'd.
And thus began:  "Francesca!  your sad fate
Even to tears my grief and pity moves.
But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,
By what, and how love granted, that ye knew
Your yet uncertain wishes?"  She replied:
"No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy, when mis'ry is at hand!  That kens
Thy learn'd instructor.  Yet so eagerly
If thou art bent to know the primal root,
From whence our love gat being, I will do,
As one, who weeps and tells his tale.  One day
For our delight we read of Lancelot,
How him love thrall'd.  Alone we were, and no
Suspicion near us.  Ofttimes by that reading
Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue
Fled from our alter'd cheek.  But at one point
Alone we fell.  When of that smile we read,
The wished smile, rapturously kiss'd
By one so deep in love, then he, who ne'er
From me shall separate, at once my lips
All trembling kiss'd.  The book and writer both
Were love's purveyors.  In its leaves that day
We read no more."  While thus one spirit spake,
The other wail'd so sorely, that heartstruck
I through compassion fainting, seem'd not far
From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground.
MY sense reviving, that erewhile had droop'd
With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief
O'ercame me wholly, straight around I see
New torments, new tormented souls, which way
Soe'er I move, or turn, or bend my sight.
In the third circle I arrive, of show'rs
Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang'd
For ever, both in kind and in degree.
Large hail, discolour'd water, sleety flaw
Through the dun midnight air stream'd down amain:
Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell.
     Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange,
Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog
Over the multitude immers'd beneath.
His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard,
His belly large, and claw'd the hands, with which
He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs
Piecemeal disparts.  Howling there spread, as curs,
Under the rainy deluge, with one side
The other screening, oft they roll them round,
A wretched, godless crew.  When that great worm
Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op'd
His jaws, and the fangs show'd us; not a limb
Of him but trembled.  Then my guide, his palms
Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth
Rais'd them, and cast it in his ravenous maw.
E'en as a dog, that yelling bays for food
His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall
His fury, bent alone with eager haste
To swallow it; so dropp'd the loathsome cheeks
Of demon Cerberus, who thund'ring stuns
The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain.
     We, o'er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt
Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet
Upon their emptiness, that substance seem'd.
     They all along the earth extended lay
Save one, that sudden rais'd himself to sit,
Soon as that way he saw us pass.  "O thou!"
He cried, "who through the infernal shades art led,
Own, if again thou know'st me.  Thou wast fram'd
Or ere my frame was broken."  I replied:
"The anguish thou endur'st perchance so takes
Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems
As if I saw thee never.  But inform
Me who thou art, that in a place so sad
Art set, and in such torment, that although
Other be greater, more disgustful none
Can be imagin'd."  He in answer thus:
"Thy city heap'd with envy to the brim,
Ay that the measure overflows its bounds,
Held me in brighter days.  Ye citizens
Were wont to name me Ciacco.  For the sin
Of glutt'ny, damned vice, beneath this rain,
E'en as thou see'st, I with fatigue am worn;
Nor I sole spirit in this woe:  all these
Have by like crime incurr'd like punishment."
     No more he said, and I my speech resum'd:
"Ciacco!  thy dire affliction grieves me much,
Even to tears.  But tell me, if thou know'st,
What shall at length befall the citizens
Of the divided city;  whether any just one
Inhabit there:  and tell me of the cause,
Whence jarring discord hath assail'd it thus?"
     He then: "After long striving they will come
To blood; and the wild party from the woods
Will chase the other with much injury forth.
Then it behoves, that this must fall, within
Three solar circles; and the other rise
By borrow'd force of one, who under shore
Now rests.  It shall a long space hold aloof
Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight
The other oppress'd, indignant at the load,
And grieving sore.  The just are two in number,
But they neglected.  Av'rice, envy, pride,
Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all
On fire."  Here ceas'd the lamentable sound;
And I continu'd thus: "Still would I learn
More from thee, farther parley still entreat.
Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say,
They who so well deserv'd, of Giacopo,
Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent
Their minds on working good.  Oh!  tell me where
They bide, and to their knowledge let me come.
For I am press'd with keen desire to hear,
If heaven's sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell
Be to their lip assign'd."   He answer'd straight:
"These are yet blacker spirits.  Various crimes
Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss.
If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them.
But to the pleasant world when thou return'st,
Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there.
No more I tell thee, answer thee no more."
     This said, his fixed eyes he turn'd askance,
A little ey'd me, then bent down his head,
And 'midst his blind companions with it fell.
     When thus my guide:  "No more his bed he leaves,
Ere the last angel-trumpet blow.  The Power
Adverse to these shall then in glory come,
Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair,
Resume his fleshly vesture and his form,
And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend
The vault."  So pass'd we through that mixture foul
Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile
Touching, though slightly, on the life to come.
For thus I question'd:  "Shall these tortures, Sir!
When the great sentence passes, be increas'd,
Or mitigated, or as now severe?"
     He then:  "Consult thy knowledge; that decides
That as each thing to more perfection grows,
It feels more sensibly both good and pain.
Though ne'er to true perfection may arrive
This race accurs'd, yet nearer then than now
They shall approach it."  Compassing that path
Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse
Much more than I relate between us pass'd:
Till at the point, where the steps led below,
Arriv'd, there Plutus, the great foe, we found.
"AH me!  O Satan!  Satan!" loud exclaim'd
Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:
And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd,
To comfort me thus spake:  "Let not thy fear
Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none
To hinder down this rock thy safe descent."
Then to that sworn lip turning, " Peace!"  he cried,
"Curs'd wolf!  thy fury inward on thyself
Prey, and consume thee!  Through the dark profound
Not without cause he passes.  So 't is will'd
On high, there where the great Archangel pour'd
Heav'n's vengeance on the first adulterer proud."
     As sails full spread and bellying with the wind
Drop suddenly collaps'd, if the mast split;
So to the ground down dropp'd the cruel fiend.
     Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge,
Gain'd on the dismal shore, that all the woe
Hems in of all the universe.  Ah me!
Almighty Justice!  in what store thou heap'st
New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!
Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this?
     E'en as a billow, on Charybdis rising,
Against encounter'd billow dashing breaks;
Such is the dance this wretched race must lead,
Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found,
From one side and the other, with loud voice,
Both roll'd on weights by main forge of their breasts,
Then smote together, and each one forthwith
Roll'd them back voluble, turning again,
Exclaiming these, "Why holdest thou so fast?"
Those answering, "And why castest thou away?"
So still repeating their despiteful song,
They to the opposite point on either hand
Travers'd the horrid circle:  then arriv'd,
Both turn'd them round, and through the middle space
Conflicting met again.  At sight whereof
I, stung with grief, thus spake:  "O say, my guide!
What race is this?  Were these, whose heads are shorn,
On our left hand, all sep'rate to the church?"
     He straight replied:  "In their first life these all
In mind were so distorted, that they made,
According to due measure, of their wealth,
No use.  This clearly from their words collect,
Which they howl forth, at each extremity
Arriving of the circle, where their crime
Contrary' in kind disparts them.  To the church
Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls
Are crown'd, both Popes and Cardinals, o'er whom
Av'rice dominion absolute maintains."
     I then:  "Mid such as these some needs must be,
Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot
Of these foul sins were stain'd."  He answering thus:
"Vain thought conceiv'st thou.  That ignoble life,
Which made them vile before, now makes them dark,
And to all knowledge indiscernible.
Forever they shall meet in this rude shock:
These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise,
Those with close-shaven locks.  That ill they gave,
And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world
Depriv'd, and set them at this strife, which needs
No labour'd phrase of mine to set if off.
Now may'st thou see, my son!  how brief, how vain,
The goods committed into fortune's hands,
For which the human race keep such a coil!
Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon,
Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls
Might purchase rest for one."  I thus rejoin'd:
     "My guide! of thee this also would I learn;
This fortune, that thou speak'st of, what it is,
Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?"
     He thus:  "O beings blind!  what ignorance
Besets you?  Now my judgment hear and mark.
He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all,
The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers
To guide them, so that each part shines to each,
Their light in equal distribution pour'd.
By similar appointment he ordain'd
Over the world's bright images to rule.
Superintendence of a guiding hand
And general minister, which at due time
May change the empty vantages of life
From race to race, from one to other's blood,
Beyond prevention of man's wisest care:
Wherefore one nation rises into sway,
Another languishes, e'en as her will
Decrees, from us conceal'd, as in the grass
The serpent train.  Against her nought avails
Your utmost wisdom.  She with foresight plans,
Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs
The other powers divine.  Her changes know
Nore intermission:  by necessity
She is made swift, so frequent come who claim
Succession in her favours.  This is she,
So execrated e'en by those, whose debt
To her is rather praise; they wrongfully
With blame requite her, and with evil word;
But she is blessed, and for that recks not:
Amidst the other primal beings glad
Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults.
Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe
Descending:  for each star is falling now,
That mounted at our entrance, and forbids
Too long our tarrying."  We the circle cross'd
To the next steep, arriving at a well,
That boiling pours itself down to a foss
Sluic'd from its source.  Far murkier was the wave
Than sablest grain:  and we in company
Of the' inky waters, journeying by their side,
Enter'd, though by a different track, beneath.
Into a lake, the Stygian nam'd, expands
The dismal stream, when it hath reach'd the foot
Of the grey wither'd cliffs.  Intent I stood
To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried
A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks
Betok'ning rage.  They with their hands alone
Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet,
Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs.
     The good instructor spake; "Now seest thou, son!
The souls of those, whom anger overcame.
This too for certain know, that underneath
The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs
Into these bubbles make the surface heave,
As thine eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turn.
Fix'd in the slime they say: "Sad once were we
In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun,
Carrying a foul and lazy mist within:
Now in these murky settlings are we sad."
Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats.
But word distinct can utter none."  Our route
Thus compass'd we, a segment widely stretch'd
Between the dry embankment, and the core
Of the loath'd pool, turning meanwhile our eyes
Downward on those who gulp'd its muddy lees;
Nor stopp'd, till to a tower's low base we came.
MY theme pursuing, I relate that ere
We reach'd the lofty turret's base, our eyes
Its height ascended, where two cressets hung
We mark'd, and from afar another light
Return the signal, so remote, that scarce
The eye could catch its beam.  I turning round
To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir'd:
"Say what this means?  and what that other light
In answer set?  what agency doth this?"
     "There on the filthy waters," he replied,
"E'en now what next awaits us mayst thou see,
If the marsh-gender'd fog conceal it not."
     Never was arrow from the cord dismiss'd,
That ran its way so nimbly through the air,
As a small bark, that through the waves I spied
Toward us coming, under the sole sway
Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud:
"Art thou arriv'd, fell spirit?"--"Phlegyas, Phlegyas,
This time thou criest in vain," my lord replied;
"No longer shalt thou have us, but while o'er
The slimy pool we pass."  As one who hears
Of some great wrong he hath sustain'd, whereat
Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin'd
In his fierce ire.  My guide descending stepp'd
Into the skiff, and bade me enter next
Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem'd
The vessel freighted.  Soon as both embark'd,
Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow,
More deeply than with others it is wont.
     While we our course o'er the dead channel held.
One drench'd in mire before me came, and said;
"Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?"
     I answer'd: "Though I come, I tarry not;
But who art thou, that art become so foul?"
     "One, as thou seest, who mourn: " he straight replied.
     To which I thus: " In mourning and in woe,
Curs'd spirit!  tarry thou. I know thee well,
E'en thus in filth disguis'd."  Then stretch'd he forth
Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage
Aware, thrusting him back: "Away!  down there
To the' other dogs!"  then, with his arms my neck
Encircling, kiss'd my cheek, and spake: "O soul
Justly disdainful!  blest was she in whom
Thou was conceiv'd!  He in the world was one
For arrogance noted; to his memory
No virtue lends its lustre; even so
Here is his shadow furious.  There above
How many now hold themselves mighty kings
Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,
Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!"
     I then: "Master!  him fain would I behold
Whelm'd in these dregs, before we quit the lake."
     He thus: "Or ever to thy view the shore
Be offer'd, satisfied shall be that wish,
Which well deserves completion."  Scarce his words
Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes
Set on him with such violence, that yet
For that render I thanks to God and praise
"To Filippo Argenti:" cried they all:
And on himself the moody Florentine
Turn'd his avenging fangs.  Him here we left,
Nor speak I of him more.  But on mine ear
Sudden a sound of lamentation smote,
Whereat mine eye unbarr'd I sent abroad.
     And thus the good instructor: "Now, my son!
Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam'd,
With its grave denizens, a mighty throng."
     I thus: "The minarets already, Sir!
There certes in the valley I descry,
Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire
Had issu'd."  He replied: "Eternal fire,
That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame
Illum'd; as in this nether hell thou seest."
     We came within the fosses deep, that moat
This region comfortless.  The walls appear'd
As they were fram'd of iron.  We had made
Wide circuit, ere a place we reach'd, where loud
The mariner cried vehement: "Go forth!
The' entrance is here!"  Upon the gates I spied
More than a thousand, who of old from heaven
Were hurl'd.  With ireful gestures, "Who is this,"
They cried, "that without death first felt, goes through
The regions of the dead?"  My sapient guide
Made sign that he for secret parley wish'd;
Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus
They spake: "Come thou alone; and let him go
Who hath so hardily enter'd this realm.
Alone return he by his witless way;
If well he know it, let him prove.  For thee,
Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark
Hast been his escort." Now bethink thee, reader!
What cheer was mine at sound of those curs'd words.
I did believe I never should return.
     "O my lov'd guide!  who more than seven times
Security hast render'd me, and drawn
From peril deep, whereto I stood expos'd,
Desert me not," I cried, "in this extreme.
And if our onward going be denied,
Together trace we back our steps with speed."
     My liege, who thither had conducted me,
Replied: "Fear not:  for of our passage none
Hath power to disappoint us, by such high
Authority permitted.  But do thou
Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit
Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur'd
I will not leave thee in this lower world."
     This said, departs the sire benevolent,
And quits me.  Hesitating I remain
At war 'twixt will and will not in my thoughts.
     I could not hear what terms he offer'd them,
But they conferr'd not long, for all at once
To trial fled within.  Clos'd were the gates
By those our adversaries on the breast
Of my liege lord:  excluded he return'd
To me with tardy steps.  Upon the ground
His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras'd
All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake:
"Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?"
Then thus to me: "That I am anger'd, think
No ground of terror:  in this trial I
Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within
For hindrance.  This their insolence, not new,
Erewhile at gate less secret they display'd,
Which still is without bolt; upon its arch
Thou saw'st the deadly scroll:  and even now
On this side of its entrance, down the steep,
Passing the circles, unescorted, comes
One whose strong might can open us this land."
THE hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks
Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back,
Chas'd that from his which newly they had worn,
And inwardly restrain'd it.  He, as one
Who listens, stood attentive:  for his eye
Not far could lead him through the sable air,
And the thick-gath'ring cloud.  "It yet behooves
We win this fight"--thus he began--" if not--
Such aid to us is offer'd. --Oh, how long
Me seems it, ere the promis'd help arrive!"
     I noted, how the sequel of his words
Clok'd their beginning; for the last he spake
Agreed not with the first.  But not the less
My fear was at his saying; sith I drew
To import worse perchance, than that he held,
His mutilated speech.  "Doth ever any
Into this rueful concave's extreme depth
Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain
Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?"
     Thus I inquiring. "Rarely," he replied,
"It chances, that among us any makes
This journey, which I wend.  Erewhile 'tis true
Once came I here beneath, conjur'd by fell
Erictho, sorceress, who compell'd the shades
Back to their bodies.  No long space my flesh
Was naked of me, when within these walls
She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit
From out of Judas' circle.  Lowest place
Is that of all, obscurest, and remov'd
Farthest from heav'n's all-circling orb.  The road
Full well I know:  thou therefore rest secure.
That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round
The city' of grief encompasses, which now
We may not enter without rage."  Yet more
He added:  but I hold it not in mind,
For that mine eye toward the lofty tower
Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top.
Where in an instant I beheld uprisen
At once three hellish furies stain'd with blood:
In limb and motion feminine they seem'd;
Around them greenest hydras twisting roll'd
Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept
Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound.
     He knowing well the miserable hags
Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake:
"Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left
This is Megaera; on the right hand she,
Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone
I' th' midst."  This said, in silence he remain'd
Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves
Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais'd,
That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound.
"Hasten Medusa: so to adamant
Him shall we change;" all looking down exclaim'd.
"E'en when by Theseus' might assail'd, we took
No ill revenge."  "Turn thyself round, and keep
Thy count'nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire
Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return
Upwards would be for ever lost."  This said,
Himself my gentle master turn'd me round,
Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own
He also hid me.  Ye of intellect
Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal'd
Under close texture of the mystic strain!
     And now there came o'er the perturbed waves
Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made
Either shore tremble, as if of a wind
Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung,
That 'gainst some forest driving all its might,
Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls
Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps
Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly.
     Mine eyes he loos'd, and spake: "And now direct
Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,
There, thickest where the smoke ascends." As frogs
Before their foe the serpent, through the wave
Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one
Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits
Destroy'd, so saw I fleeing before one
Who pass'd with unwet feet the Stygian sound.
He, from his face removing the gross air,
Oft his left hand forth stretch'd, and seem'd alone
By that annoyance wearied.  I perceiv'd
That he was sent from heav'n, and to my guide
Turn'd me, who signal made that I should stand
Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me!  how full
Of noble anger seem'd he!  To the gate
He came, and with his wand touch'd it, whereat
Open without impediment it flew.
     "Outcasts of heav'n!  O abject race and scorn'd!"
Began he on the horrid grunsel standing,
"Whence doth this wild excess of insolence
Lodge in you? wherefore kick you 'gainst that will
Ne'er frustrate of its end, and which so oft
Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?
What profits at the fays to but the horn?
Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence
Bears still, peel'd of their hair, his throat and maw."
     This said, he turn'd back o'er the filthy way,
And syllable to us spake none, but wore
The semblance of a man by other care
Beset, and keenly press'd, than thought of him
Who in his presence stands.  Then we our steps
Toward that territory mov'd, secure
After the hallow'd words.  We unoppos'd
There enter'd; and my mind eager to learn
What state a fortress like to that might hold,
I soon as enter'd throw mine eye around,
And see on every part wide-stretching space
Replete with bitter pain and torment ill.
     As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles,
Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro's gulf,
That closes Italy and laves her bounds,
The place is all thick spread with sepulchres;
So was it here, save what in horror here
Excell'd:  for 'midst the graves were scattered flames,
Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn'd,
That iron for no craft there hotter needs.
     Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath
From them forth issu'd lamentable moans,
Such as the sad and tortur'd well might raise.
     I thus:  "Master! say who are these, interr'd
Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear
The dolorous sighs?"  He answer thus return'd:
     "The arch-heretics are here, accompanied
By every sect their followers; and much more,
Than thou believest, tombs are freighted:  like
With like is buried; and the monuments
Are different in degrees of heat. "This said,
He to the right hand turning, on we pass'd
Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high.
NOW by a secret pathway we proceed,
Between the walls, that hem the region round,
And the tormented souls:  my master first,
I close behind his steps.  "Virtue supreme!"
I thus began; "who through these ample orbs
In circuit lead'st me, even as thou will'st,
Speak thou, and satisfy my wish.  May those,
Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen?
Already all the lids are rais'd, and none
O'er them keeps watch."  He thus in answer spake
"They shall be closed all, what-time they here
From Josaphat return'd shall come, and bring
Their bodies, which above they now have left.
The cemetery on this part obtain
With Epicurus all his followers,
Who with the body make the spirit die.
Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon
Both to the question ask'd, and to the wish,
Which thou conceal'st in silence."  I replied:
"I keep not, guide belov'd! from thee my heart
Secreted, but to shun vain length of words,
A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself."
     "O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire
Alive art passing, so discreet of speech!
Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance
Declares the place of thy nativity
To be that noble land, with which perchance
I too severely dealt."  Sudden that sound
Forth issu'd from a vault, whereat in fear
I somewhat closer to my leader's side
Approaching, he thus spake:  "What dost thou?  Turn.
Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself
Uplifted:  from his girdle upwards all
Expos'd behold him."  On his face was mine
Already fix'd; his breast and forehead there
Erecting, seem'd as in high scorn he held
E'en hell.  Between the sepulchres to him
My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt,
This warning added:  "See thy words be clear!"
     He, soon as there I stood at the tomb's foot,
Ey'd me a space, then in disdainful mood
Address'd me:  "Say, what ancestors were thine?"
     I, willing to obey him, straight reveal'd
The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow
Somewhat uplifting, cried:  "Fiercely were they
Adverse to me, my party, and the blood
From whence I sprang:  twice therefore I abroad
Scatter'd them."  "Though driv'n out, yet they each time
From all parts," answer'd I, "return'd; an art
Which yours have shown, they are not skill'd to learn."
     Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw,
Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin,
Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais'd.
It look'd around, as eager to explore
If there were other with me; but perceiving
That fond imagination quench'd, with tears
Thus spake:  "If thou through this blind prison go'st.
Led by thy lofty genius and profound,
Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?"
     I straight replied:  "Not of myself I come,
By him, who there expects me, through this clime
Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son
Had in contempt."  Already had his words
And mode of punishment read me his name,
Whence I so fully answer'd.  He at once
Exclaim'd, up starting, "How! said'st thou he HAD?
No longer lives he?  Strikes not on his eye
The blessed daylight?"  Then of some delay
I made ere my reply aware, down fell
Supine, not after forth appear'd he more.
     Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom
I yet was station'd, chang'd not count'nance stern,
Nor mov'd the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.
"And if," continuing the first discourse,
"They in this art," he cried, "small skill have shown,
That doth torment me more e'en than this bed.
But not yet fifty times shall be relum'd
Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm,
Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art.
So to the pleasant world mayst thou return,
As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws,
Against my kin this people is so fell?"
     "The slaughter and great havoc," I replied,
"That colour'd Arbia's flood with crimson stain--
To these impute, that in our hallow'd dome
Such orisons ascend."  Sighing he shook
The head, then thus resum'd:  "In that affray
I stood not singly, nor without just cause
Assuredly should with the rest have stirr'd;
But singly there I stood, when by consent
Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz'd,
The one who openly forbad the deed."
     "So may thy lineage find at last repose,"
I thus adjur'd him, "as thou solve this knot,
Which now involves my mind.  If right I hear,
Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time
Leads with him, of the present uninform'd."
     "We view, as one who hath an evil sight,"
He answer'd, "plainly, objects far remote:
So much of his large spendour yet imparts
The' Almighty Ruler; but when they approach
Or actually exist, our intellect
Then wholly fails, nor of your human state
Except what others bring us know we aught.
Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all
Our knowledge in that instant shall expire,
When on futurity the portals close."
     Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse
Smitten, I added thus:  "Now shalt thou say
To him there fallen, that his offspring still
Is to the living join'd; and bid him know,
That if from answer silent I abstain'd,
'Twas that my thought was occupied intent
Upon that error, which thy help hath solv'd."
     But now my master summoning me back
I heard, and with more eager haste besought
The spirit to inform me, who with him
Partook his lot.  He answer thus return'd:
     "More than a thousand with me here are laid
Within is Frederick, second of that name,
And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest
I speak not."  He, this said, from sight withdrew.
But I my steps towards the ancient bard
Reverting, ruminated on the words
Betokening me such ill.  Onward he mov'd,
And thus in going question'd:  "Whence the' amaze
That holds thy senses wrapt?"  I satisfied
The' inquiry, and the sage enjoin'd me straight:
"Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard
To thee importing harm; and note thou this,"
With his rais'd finger bidding me take heed,
     "When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,
Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life
The future tenour will to thee unfold."
     Forthwith he to the left hand turn'd his feet:
We left the wall, and tow'rds the middle space
Went by a path, that to a valley strikes;
Which e'en thus high exhal'd its noisome steam.
UPON the utmost verge of a high bank,
By craggy rocks environ'd round, we came,
Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow'd:
And here to shun the horrible excess
Of fetid exhalation, upward cast
From the profound abyss, behind the lid
Of a great monument we stood retir'd,
Whereon this scroll I mark'd:  "I have in charge
Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew
From the right path.--Ere our descent behooves
We make delay, that somewhat first the sense,
To the dire breath accustom'd, afterward
Regard it not."  My master thus; to whom
Answering I spake:  "Some compensation find
That the time past not wholly lost."  He then:
"Lo! how my thoughts e'en to thy wishes tend!
My son! within these rocks," he thus began,
"Are three close circles in gradation plac'd,
As these which now thou leav'st. Each one is full
Of spirits accurs'd; but that the sight alone
Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how
And for what cause in durance they abide.
     "Of all malicious act abhorr'd in heaven,
The end is injury; and all such end
Either by force or fraud works other's woe
But fraud, because of man peculiar evil,
To God is more displeasing; and beneath
The fraudulent are therefore doom'd to' endure
Severer pang.  The violent occupy
All the first circle; and because to force
Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds
Hach within other sep'rate is it fram'd.
To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man
Force may be offer'd; to himself I say
And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear
At full.  Death, violent death, and painful wounds
Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes
By devastation, pillage, and the flames,
His substance.  Slayers, and each one that smites
In malice, plund'rers, and all robbers, hence
The torment undergo of the first round
In different herds.  Man can do violence
To himself and his own blessings:  and for this
He in the second round must aye deplore
With unavailing penitence his crime,
Whoe'er deprives himself of life and light,
In reckless lavishment his talent wastes,
And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy.
To God may force be offer'd, in the heart
Denying and blaspheming his high power,
And nature with her kindly law contemning.
And thence the inmost round marks with its seal
Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak
Contemptuously' of the Godhead in their hearts.
     "Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting,
May be by man employ'd on one, whose trust
He wins, or on another who withholds
Strict confidence.  Seems as the latter way
Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.
Whence in the second circle have their nest
Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries,
Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce
To lust, or set their honesty at pawn,
With such vile scum as these.  The other way
Forgets both Nature's general love, and that
Which thereto added afterwards gives birth
To special faith.  Whence in the lesser circle,
Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis,
The traitor is eternally consum'd."
     I thus:  "Instructor, clearly thy discourse
Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm
And its inhabitants with skill exact.
But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool,
Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives,
Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet,
Wherefore within the city fire-illum'd
Are not these punish'd, if God's wrath be on them?
And if it be not, wherefore in such guise
Are they condemned?"  He answer thus return'd:
"Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind,
Not so accustom'd? or what other thoughts
Possess it?  Dwell not in thy memory
The words, wherein thy ethic page describes
Three dispositions adverse to Heav'n's will,
Incont'nence, malice, and mad brutishness,
And how incontinence the least offends
God, and least guilt incurs?  If well thou note
This judgment, and remember who they are,
Without these walls to vain repentance doom'd,
Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac'd
From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours
Justice divine on them its vengeance down."
     "O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight,
Thou so content'st me, when thou solv'st my doubt,
That ignorance not less than knowledge charms.
Yet somewhat turn thee back," I in these words
Continu'd, "where thou saidst, that usury
Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot
Perplex'd unravel."  He thus made reply:
"Philosophy, to an attentive ear,
Clearly points out, not in one part alone,
How imitative nature takes her course
From the celestial mind and from its art:
And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds,
Not many leaves scann'd o'er, observing well
Thou shalt discover, that your art on her
Obsequious follows, as the learner treads
In his instructor's step, so that your art
Deserves the name of second in descent
From God.  These two, if thou recall to mind
Creation's holy book, from the beginning
Were the right source of life and excellence
To human kind.  But in another path
The usurer walks; and Nature in herself
And in her follower thus he sets at nought,
Placing elsewhere his hope.  But follow now
My steps on forward journey bent; for now
The Pisces play with undulating glance
Along the' horizon, and the Wain lies all
O'er the north-west; and onward there a space
Is our steep passage down the rocky height."
THE place where to descend the precipice
We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge
Such object lay, as every eye would shun.
     As is that ruin, which Adice's stream
On this side Trento struck, should'ring the wave,
Or loos'd by earthquake or for lack of prop;
For from the mountain's summit, whence it mov'd
To the low level, so the headlong rock
Is shiver'd, that some passage it might give
To him who from above would pass; e'en such
Into the chasm was that descent: and there
At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch'd
The infamy of Crete, detested brood
Of the feign'd heifer:  and at sight of us
It gnaw'd itself, as one with rage distract.
To him my guide exclaim'd:  "Perchance thou deem'st
The King of Athens here, who, in the world
Above, thy death contriv'd.  Monster! avaunt!
He comes not tutor'd by thy sister's art,
But to behold your torments is he come."
     Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring
Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow
Hath struck him, but unable to proceed
Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge
The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim'd:
"Run to the passage! while he storms, 't is well
That thou descend."  Thus down our road we took
Through those dilapidated crags, that oft
Mov'd underneath my feet, to weight like theirs
Unus'd.  I pond'ring went, and thus he spake:
     "Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin'd steep,
Guarded by the brute violence, which I
Have vanquish'd now. Know then, that when I erst
Hither descended to the nether hell,
This rock was not yet fallen.  But past doubt
(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived,
Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil
Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds
Such trembling seiz'd the deep concave and foul,
I thought the universe was thrill'd with love,
Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft
Been into chaos turn'd:  and in that point,
Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down.
But fix thine eyes beneath:  the river of blood
Approaches, in the which all those are steep'd,
Who have by violence injur'd."  O blind lust!
O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on
In the brief life, and in the eternal then
Thus miserably o'erwhelm us.  I beheld
An ample foss, that in a bow was bent,
As circling all the plain; for so my guide
Had told.  Between it and the rampart's base
On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm'd,
As to the chase they on the earth were wont.
     At seeing us descend they each one stood;
And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows
And missile weapons chosen first; of whom
One cried from far:  "Say to what pain ye come
Condemn'd, who down this steep have journied?  Speak
From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw."
     To whom my guide:  "Our answer shall be made
To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come.
Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash."
     Then me he touch'd, and spake:  "Nessus is this,
Who for the fair Deianira died,
And wrought himself revenge for his own fate.
He in the midst, that on his breast looks down,
Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs'd;
That other Pholus, prone to wrath."  Around
The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts
At whatsoever spirit dares emerge
From out the blood, more than his guilt allows.
     We to those beasts, that rapid strode along,
Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth,
And with the notch push'd back his shaggy beard
To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view
Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim'd:
"Are ye aware, that he who comes behind
Moves what he touches?  The feet of the dead
Are not so wont."  My trusty guide, who now
Stood near his breast, where the two natures join,
Thus made reply:  "He is indeed alive,
And solitary so must needs by me
Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc'd
By strict necessity, not by delight.
She left her joyful harpings in the sky,
Who this new office to my care consign'd.
He is no robber, no dark spirit I.
But by that virtue, which empowers my step
To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray,
One of thy band, whom we may trust secure,
Who to the ford may lead us, and convey
Across, him mounted on his back; for he
Is not a spirit that may walk the air."
     Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus
To Nessus spake:  "Return, and be their guide.
And if ye chance to cross another troop,
Command them keep aloof."  Onward we mov'd,
The faithful escort by our side, along
The border of the crimson-seething flood,
Whence from those steep'd within loud shrieks arose.
     Some there I mark'd, as high as to their brow
Immers'd, of whom the mighty Centaur thus:
"These are the souls of tyrants, who were given
To blood and rapine.  Here they wail aloud
Their merciless wrongs.  Here Alexander dwells,
And Dionysius fell, who many a year
Of woe wrought for fair Sicily.  That brow
Whereon the hair so jetty clust'ring hangs,
Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks
Obizzo' of Este, in the world destroy'd
By his foul step-son."  To the bard rever'd
I turned me round, and thus he spake;  "Let him
Be to thee now first leader, me but next
To him in rank."  Then farther on a space
The Centaur paus'd, near some, who at the throat
Were extant from the wave; and showing us
A spirit by itself apart retir'd,
Exclaim'd:  "He in God's bosom smote the heart,
Which yet is honour'd on the bank of Thames."
     A race I next espied, who held the head,
And even all the bust above the stream.
'Midst these I many a face remember'd well.
Thus shallow more and more the blood became,
So that at last it but imbru'd the feet;
And there our passage lay athwart the foss.
     "As ever on this side the boiling wave
Thou seest diminishing," the Centaur said,
"So on the other, be thou well assur'd,
It lower still and lower sinks its bed,
Till in that part it reuniting join,
Where 't is the lot of tyranny to mourn.
There Heav'n's stern justice lays chastising hand
On Attila, who was the scourge of earth,
On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts
Tears ever by the seething flood unlock'd
From the Rinieri, of Corneto this,
Pazzo the other nam'd, who fill'd the ways
With violence and war."  This said, he turn'd,
And quitting us, alone repass'd the ford.
ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank,
We enter'd on a forest, where no track
Of steps had worn a way.  Not verdant there
The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light
The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'd
And matted thick:  fruits there were none, but thorns
Instead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these,
Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide
Those animals, that hate the cultur'd fields,
Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream.
     Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same
Who from the Strophades the Trojan band
Drove with dire boding of their future woe.
Broad are their pennons, of the human form
Their neck and count'nance, arm'd with talons keen
The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings
These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood.
     The kind instructor in these words began:
"Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now
I' th' second round, and shalt be, till thou come
Upon the horrid sand:  look therefore well
Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold,
As would my speech discredit."  On all sides
I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see
From whom they might have issu'd.  In amaze
Fast bound I stood.  He, as it seem'd, believ'd,
That I had thought so many voices came
From some amid those thickets close conceal'd,
And thus his speech resum'd:  "If thou lop off
A single twig from one of those ill plants,
The thought thou hast conceiv'd shall vanish quite."
     Thereat a little stretching forth my hand,
From a great wilding gather'd I a branch,
And straight the trunk exclaim'd:  "Why pluck'st thou me?"
Then as the dark blood trickled down its side,
These words it added:  "Wherefore tear'st me thus?
Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast?
Men once were we, that now are rooted here.
Thy hand might well have spar'd us, had we been
The souls of serpents."  As a brand yet green,
That burning at one end from the' other sends
A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind
That forces out its way, so burst at once,
Forth from the broken splinter words and blood.
     I, letting fall the bough, remain'd as one
Assail'd by terror, and the sage replied:
"If he, O injur'd spirit! could have believ'd
What he hath seen but in my verse describ'd,
He never against thee had stretch'd his hand.
But I, because the thing surpass'd belief,
Prompted him to this deed, which even now
Myself I rue.  But tell me, who thou wast;
That, for this wrong to do thee some amends,
In the upper world (for thither to return
Is granted him) thy fame he may revive."
     "That pleasant word of thine," the trunk replied
"Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech
Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge
A little longer, in the snare detain'd,
Count it not grievous.  I it was, who held
Both keys to Frederick's heart, and turn'd the wards,
Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet,
That besides me, into his inmost breast
Scarce any other could admittance find.
The faith I bore to my high charge was such,
It cost me the life-blood that warm'd my veins.
The harlot, who ne'er turn'd her gloating eyes
From Caesar's household, common vice and pest
Of courts, 'gainst me inflam'd the minds of all;
And to Augustus they so spread the flame,
That my glad honours chang'd to bitter woes.
My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought
Refuge in death from scorn, and I became,
Just as I was, unjust toward myself.
By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,
That never faith I broke to my liege lord,
Who merited such honour; and of you,
If any to the world indeed return,
Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies
Yet prostrate under envy's cruel blow."
     First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words
Were ended, then to me the bard began:
"Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask,
If more thou wish to learn."  Whence I replied:
"Question thou him again of whatsoe'er
Will, as thou think'st, content me; for no power
Have I to ask, such pity' is at my heart."
     He thus resum'd;  "So may he do for thee
Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet
Be pleas'd, imprison'd Spirit! to declare,
How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied;
And whether any ever from such frame
Be loosen'd, if thou canst, that also tell."
     Thereat the trunk breath'd hard, and the wind soon
Chang'd into sounds articulate like these;
     Briefly ye shall be answer'd.  When departs
The fierce soul from the body, by itself
Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf
By Minos doom'd, into the wood it falls,
No place assign'd, but wheresoever chance
Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt,
It rises to a sapling, growing thence
A savage plant.  The Harpies, on its leaves
Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain
A vent to grief.  We, as the rest, shall come
For our own spoils, yet not so that with them
We may again be clad; for what a man
Takes from himself it is not just he have.
Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout
The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung,
Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade."
     Attentive yet to listen to the trunk
We stood, expecting farther speech, when us
A noise surpris'd, as when a man perceives
The wild boar and the hunt approach his place
Of station'd watch, who of the beasts and boughs
Loud rustling round him hears.  And lo! there came
Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight,
That they before them broke each fan o' th' wood.
"Haste now," the foremost cried, "now haste thee death!"
The' other, as seem'd, impatient of delay
Exclaiming, "Lano! not so bent for speed
Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo's field."
And then, for that perchance no longer breath
Suffic'd him, of himself and of a bush
One group he made.  Behind them was the wood
Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet,
As greyhounds that have newly slipp'd the leash.
On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs,
And having rent him piecemeal bore away
The tortur'd limbs.  My guide then seiz'd my hand,
And led me to the thicket, which in vain
Mourn'd through its bleeding wounds:  "O Giacomo
Of Sant' Andrea! what avails it thee,"
It cried, "that of me thou hast made thy screen?
For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?"
     When o'er it he had paus'd, my master spake:
"Say who wast thou, that at so many points
Breath'st out with blood thy lamentable speech?"
     He answer'd: "Oh, ye spirits:  arriv'd in time
To spy the shameful havoc, that from me
My leaves hath sever'd thus, gather them up,
And at the foot of their sad parent-tree
Carefully lay them.  In that city' I dwelt,
Who for the Baptist her first patron chang'd,
Whence he for this shall cease not with his art
To work her woe:  and if there still remain'd not
On Arno's passage some faint glimpse of him,
Those citizens, who rear'd once more her walls
Upon the ashes left by Attila,
Had labour'd without profit of their toil.
I slung the fatal noose from my own roof."
SOON as the charity of native land
Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter'd leaves
Collected, and to him restor'd, who now
Was hoarse with utt'rance.  To the limit thence
We came, which from the third the second round
Divides, and where of justice is display'd
Contrivance horrible.  Things then first seen
Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next
A plain we reach'd, that from its sterile bed
Each plant repell'd. The mournful wood waves round
Its garland on all sides, as round the wood
Spreads the sad foss.  There, on the very edge,
Our steps we stay'd.  It was an area wide
Of arid sand and thick, resembling most
The soil that erst by Cato's foot was trod.
     Vengeance of Heav'n! Oh ! how shouldst thou be fear'd
By all, who read what here my eyes beheld!
     Of naked spirits many a flock I saw,
All weeping piteously, to different laws
Subjected:  for on the' earth some lay supine,
Some crouching close were seated, others pac'd
Incessantly around; the latter tribe,
More numerous, those fewer who beneath
The torment lay, but louder in their grief.
     O'er all the sand fell slowly wafting down
Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow
On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush'd.
As in the torrid Indian clime, the son
Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band
Descending, solid flames, that to the ground
Came down:  whence he bethought him with his troop
To trample on the soil; for easier thus
The vapour was extinguish'd, while alone;
So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith
The marble glow'd underneath, as under stove
The viands, doubly to augment the pain.
Unceasing was the play of wretched hands,
Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off
The heat, still falling fresh.  I thus began:
"Instructor! thou who all things overcom'st,
Except the hardy demons, that rush'd forth
To stop our entrance at the gate, say who
Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not
The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn,
As by the sultry tempest immatur'd?"
     Straight he himself, who was aware I ask'd
My guide of him, exclaim'd:  "Such as I was
When living, dead such now I am.  If Jove
Weary his workman out, from whom in ire
He snatch'd the lightnings, that at my last day
Transfix'd me, if the rest be weary out
At their black smithy labouring by turns
In Mongibello, while he cries aloud;
"Help, help, good Mulciber!" as erst he cried
In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts
Launch he full aim'd at me with all his might,
He never should enjoy a sweet revenge."
     Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais'd
Than I before had heard him:  "Capaneus!
Thou art more punish'd, in that this thy pride
Lives yet unquench'd:  no torrent, save thy rage,
Were to thy fury pain proportion'd full."
     Next turning round to me with milder lip
He spake:  "This of the seven kings was one,
Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held,
As still he seems to hold, God in disdain,
And sets his high omnipotence at nought.
But, as I told him, his despiteful mood
Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it.
Follow me now; and look thou set not yet
Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood
Keep ever close."  Silently on we pass'd
To where there gushes from the forest's bound
A little brook, whose crimson'd wave yet lifts
My hair with horror.  As the rill, that runs
From Bulicame, to be portion'd out
Among the sinful women; so ran this
Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank
Stone-built, and either margin at its side,
Whereon I straight perceiv'd our passage lay.
     "Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate
We enter'd first, whose threshold is to none
Denied, nought else so worthy of regard,
As is this river, has thine eye discern'd,
O'er which the flaming volley all is quench'd."
     So spake my guide; and I him thence besought,
That having giv'n me appetite to know,
The food he too would give, that hunger crav'd.
     "In midst of ocean," forthwith he began,
"A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam'd,
Under whose monarch in old times the world
Liv'd pure and chaste.  A mountain rises there,
Call'd Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams,
Deserted now like a forbidden thing.
It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn's spouse,
Chose for the secret cradle of her son;
And better to conceal him, drown'd in shouts
His infant cries.  Within the mount, upright
An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns
His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome
As in his mirror looks.  Of finest gold
His head is shap'd, pure silver are the breast
And arms; thence to the middle is of brass.
And downward all beneath well-temper'd steel,
Save the right foot of potter's clay, on which
Than on the other more erect he stands,
Each part except the gold, is rent throughout;
And from the fissure tears distil, which join'd
Penetrate to that cave.  They in their course
Thus far precipitated down the rock
Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon;
Then by this straiten'd channel passing hence
Beneath, e'en to the lowest depth of all,
Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself
Shall see it) I here give thee no account."
     Then I to him:  "If from our world this sluice
Be thus deriv'd; wherefore to us but now
Appears it at this edge?"  He straight replied:
"The place, thou know'st, is round; and though great part
Thou have already pass'd, still to the left
Descending to the nethermost, not yet
Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb.
Wherefore if aught of new to us appear,
It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks."
     Then I again inquir'd:  "Where flow the streams
Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one
Thou tell'st not, and the other of that shower,
Thou say'st, is form'd."  He answer thus return'd:
"Doubtless thy questions all well pleas'd I hear.
Yet the red seething wave might have resolv'd
One thou proposest.  Lethe thou shalt see,
But not within this hollow, in the place,
Whither to lave themselves the spirits go,
Whose blame hath been by penitence remov'd."
He added:  "Time is now we quit the wood.
Look thou my steps pursue:  the margins give
Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames;
For over them all vapour is extinct."
One of the solid margins bears us now
Envelop'd in the mist, that from the stream
Arising, hovers o'er, and saves from fire
Both piers and water.  As the Flemings rear
Their mound, 'twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back
The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide
That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs
Along the Brenta, to defend their towns
And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt
On Chiarentana's top; such were the mounds,
So fram'd, though not in height or bulk to these
Made equal, by the master, whosoe'er
He was, that rais'd them here.  We from the wood
Were not so far remov'd, that turning round
I might not have discern'd it, when we met
A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier.
     They each one ey'd us, as at eventide
One eyes another under a new moon,
And toward us sharpen'd their sight as keen,
As an old tailor at his needle's eye.
     Thus narrowly explor'd by all the tribe,
I was agniz'd of one, who by the skirt
Caught me, and cried, "What wonder have we here!"
     And I, when he to me outstretch'd his arm,
Intently fix'd my ken on his parch'd looks,
That although smirch'd with fire, they hinder'd not
But I remember'd him; and towards his face
My hand inclining, answer'd:  "Sir! Brunetto!
And art thou here?"  He thus to me:  "My son!
Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto
Latini but a little space with thee
Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed."
     I thus to him replied:  "Much as I can,
I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing,
That I here seat me with thee, I consent;
His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain'd."
     "O son!" said he, " whoever of this throng
One instant stops, lies then a hundred years,
No fan to ventilate him, when the fire
Smites sorest.  Pass thou therefore on.  I close
Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin
My troop, who go mourning their endless doom."
     I dar'd not from the path descend to tread
On equal ground with him, but held my head
Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise.
     "What chance or destiny," thus be began,
"Ere the last day conducts thee here below?
And who is this, that shows to thee the way?"
     "There up aloft," I answer'd, "in the life
Serene, I wander'd in a valley lost,
Before mine age had to its fullness reach'd.
But yester-morn I left it:  then once more
Into that vale returning, him I met;
And by this path homeward he leads me back."
     "If thou," he answer'd, "follow but thy star,
Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven:
Unless in fairer days my judgment err'd.
And if my fate so early had not chanc'd,
Seeing the heav'ns thus bounteous to thee, I
Had gladly giv'n thee comfort in thy work.
But that ungrateful and malignant race,
Who in old times came down from Fesole,
Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint,
Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity.
Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour'd crabs
It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit.
Old fame reports them in the world for blind,
Covetous, envious, proud.  Look to it well:
Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways.  For thee
Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve,
That thou by either party shalt be crav'd
With hunger keen:  but be the fresh herb far
From the goat's tooth.  The herd of Fesole
May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant,
If any such yet spring on their rank bed,
In which the holy seed revives, transmitted
From those true Romans, who still there remain'd,
When it was made the nest of so much ill."
     "Were all my wish fulfill'd," I straight replied,
"Thou from the confines of man's nature yet
Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind
Is fix'd, and now strikes full upon my heart
The dear, benign, paternal image, such
As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me
The way for man to win eternity;
And how I priz'd the lesson, it behooves,
That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak,
What of my fate thou tell'st, that write I down:
And with another text to comment on
For her I keep it, the celestial dame,
Who will know all, if I to her arrive.
This only would I have thee clearly note:
That so my conscience have no plea against me;
Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar'd.
Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear.
Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best,
The clown his mattock; all things have their course."
     Thereat my sapient guide upon his right
Turn'd himself back, then look'd at me and spake:
"He listens to good purpose who takes note."
     I not the less still on my way proceed,
Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire
Who are most known and chief among his tribe.
     "To know of some is well;" thus he replied,
"But of the rest silence may best beseem.
Time would not serve us for report so long.
In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks,
Men of great learning and no less renown,
By one same sin polluted in the world.
With them is Priscian, and Accorso's son
Francesco herds among that wretched throng:
And, if the wish of so impure a blotch
Possess'd thee, him thou also might'st have seen,
Who by the servants' servant was transferr'd
From Arno's seat to Bacchiglione, where
His ill-strain'd nerves he left.  I more would add,
But must from farther speech and onward way
Alike desist, for yonder I behold
A mist new-risen on the sandy plain.
A company, with whom I may not sort,
Approaches.  I commend my TREASURE to thee,
Wherein I yet survive; my sole request."
     This said he turn'd, and seem'd as one of those,
Who o'er Verona's champain try their speed
For the green mantle, and of them he seem'd,
Not he who loses but who gains the prize.
NOW came I where the water's din was heard,
As down it fell into the other round,
Resounding like the hum of swarming bees:
When forth together issu'd from a troop,
That pass'd beneath the fierce tormenting storm,
Three spirits, running swift.  They towards us came,
And each one cried aloud, "Oh do thou stay!
Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem
To be some inmate of our evil land."
     Ah me! what wounds I mark'd upon their limbs,
Recent and old, inflicted by the flames!
E'en the remembrance of them grieves me yet.
     Attentive to their cry my teacher paus'd,
And turn'd to me his visage, and then spake;
"Wait now! our courtesy these merit well:
And were 't not for the nature of the place,
Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said,
That haste had better suited thee than them.''
     They, when we stopp'd, resum'd their ancient wail,
And soon as they had reach'd us, all the three
Whirl'd round together in one restless wheel.
As naked champions, smear'd with slippery oil,
Are wont intent to watch their place of hold
And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet;
Thus each one, as he wheel'd, his countenance
At me directed, so that opposite
The neck mov'd ever to the twinkling feet.
     "If misery of this drear wilderness,"
Thus one began, "added to our sad cheer
And destitute, do call forth scorn on us
And our entreaties, let our great renown
Incline thee to inform us who thou art,
That dost imprint with living feet unharm'd
The soil of Hell.  He, in whose track thou see'st
My steps pursuing, naked though he be
And reft of all, was of more high estate
Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste
Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call'd,
Who in his lifetime many a noble act
Achiev'd, both by his wisdom and his sword.
The other, next to me that beats the sand,
Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well,
In the' upper world, of honour; and myself
Who in this torment do partake with them,
Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife
Of savage temper, more than aught beside
Hath to this evil brought."  If from the fire
I had been shelter'd, down amidst them straight
I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem,
Would have restrain'd my going; but that fear
Of the dire burning vanquish'd the desire,
Which made me eager of their wish'd embrace.
     I then began:  "Not scorn, but grief much more,
Such as long time alone can cure, your doom
Fix'd deep within me, soon as this my lord
Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect
That such a race, as ye are, was at hand.
I am a countryman of yours, who still
Affectionate have utter'd, and have heard
Your deeds and names renown'd.  Leaving the gall
For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide
Hath promis'd to me.  But behooves, that far
As to the centre first I downward tend."
     "So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,"
He answer straight return'd; "and so thy fame
Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell,
If courtesy and valour, as they wont,
Dwell in our city, or have vanish'd clean?
For one amidst us late condemn'd to wail,
Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers,
Grieves us no little by the news he brings."
     "An upstart multitude and sudden gains,
Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee
Engender'd, so that now in tears thou mourn'st!"
Thus cried I with my face uprais'd, and they
All three, who for an answer took my words,
Look'd at each other, as men look when truth
Comes to their ear.  "If thou at other times,"
They all at once rejoin'd, "so easily
Satisfy those, who question, happy thou,
Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought!
Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime,
Returning to behold the radiant stars,
When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past,
See that of us thou speak among mankind."
     This said, they broke the circle, and so swift
Fled, that as pinions seem'd their nimble feet.
     Not in so short a time might one have said
"Amen," as they had vanish'd. Straight my guide
Pursu'd his track.  I follow'd; and small space
Had we pass'd onward, when the water's sound
Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce
Heard one another's speech for the loud din.
     E'en as the river, that holds on its course
Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo,
On the left side of Apennine, toward
The east, which Acquacheta higher up
They call, ere it descend into the vale,
At Forli by that name no longer known,
Rebellows o'er Saint Benedict, roll'd on
From the' Alpine summit down a precipice,
Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads;
Thus downward from a craggy steep we found,
That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud,
So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn'd.
     I had a cord that brac'd my girdle round,
Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take
The painted leopard.  This when I had all
Unloosen'd from me (so my master bade)
I gather'd up, and stretch'd it forth to him.
Then to the right he turn'd, and from the brink
Standing few paces distant, cast it down
Into the deep abyss.  "And somewhat strange,"
Thus to myself I spake, "signal so strange
Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye
Thus follows."  Ah! what caution must men use
With those who look not at the deed alone,
But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill!
     "Quickly shall come," he said, "what I expect,
Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof
Thy thought is dreaming."  Ever to that truth,
Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears,
A man, if possible, should bar his lip;
Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach.
But silence here were vain; and by these notes
Which now I sing, reader!  I swear to thee,
So may they favour find to latest times!
That through the gross and murky air I spied
A shape come swimming up, that might have quell'd
The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise
As one returns, who hath been down to loose
An anchor grappled fast against some rock,
Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies,
Who upward springing close draws in his feet.
"LO! the fell monster with the deadly sting!
Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls
And firm embattled spears, and with his filth
Taints all the world!"  Thus me my guide address'd,
And beckon'd him, that he should come to shore,
Near to the stony causeway's utmost edge.
     Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear'd,
His head and upper part expos'd on land,
But laid not on the shore his bestial train.
His face the semblance of a just man's wore,
So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;
The rest was serpent all:  two shaggy claws
Reach'd to the armpits, and the back and breast,
And either side, were painted o'er with nodes
And orbits.  Colours variegated more
Nor Turks nor Tartars e'er on cloth of state
With interchangeable embroidery wove,
Nor spread Arachne o'er her curious loom.
As ofttimes a light skiff, moor'd to the shore,
Stands part in water, part upon the land;
Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,
The beaver settles watching for his prey;
So on the rim, that fenc'd the sand with rock,
Sat perch'd the fiend of evil.  In the void
Glancing, his tail upturn'd its venomous fork,
With sting like scorpion's arm'd.  Then thus my guide:
"Now need our way must turn few steps apart,
Far as to that ill beast, who couches there."
     Thereat toward the right our downward course
We shap'd, and, better to escape the flame
And burning marle, ten paces on the verge
Proceeded.  Soon as we to him arrive,
A little further on mine eye beholds
A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand
Near the wide chasm.  Forthwith my master spake:
"That to the full thy knowledge may extend
Of all this round contains, go now, and mark
The mien these wear:  but hold not long discourse.
Till thou returnest, I with him meantime
Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe
The aid of his strong shoulders."  Thus alone
Yet forward on the' extremity I pac'd
Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe
Were seated.  At the eyes forth gush'd their pangs.
Against the vapours and the torrid soil
Alternately their shifting hands they plied.
Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply
Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore
By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round.
     Noting the visages of some, who lay
Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,
One of them all I knew not; but perceiv'd,
That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch
With colours and with emblems various mark'd,
On which it seem'd as if their eye did feed.
     And when amongst them looking round I came,
A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought,
That wore a lion's countenance and port.
Then still my sight pursuing its career,
Another I beheld, than blood more red.
A goose display of whiter wing than curd.
And one, who bore a fat and azure swine
Pictur'd on his white scrip, addressed me thus:
"What dost thou in this deep?  Go now and know,
Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here
Vitaliano on my left shall sit.
A Paduan with these Florentines am I.
Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming
"O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch
With the three beaks will bring!"  This said, he writh'd
The mouth, and loll'd the tongue out, like an ox
That licks his nostrils.  I, lest longer stay
He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long,
Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn'd.
     My guide already seated on the haunch
Of the fierce animal I found; and thus
He me encourag'd.  "Be thou stout; be bold.
Down such a steep flight must we now descend!
Mount thou before:  for that no power the tail
May have to harm thee, I will be i' th' midst."
     As one, who hath an ague fit so near,
His nails already are turn'd blue, and he
Quivers all o'er, if he but eye the shade;
Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.
But shame soon interpos'd her threat, who makes
The servant bold in presence of his lord.
     I settled me upon those shoulders huge,
And would have said, but that the words to aid
My purpose came not, "Look thou clasp me firm!"
     But he whose succour then not first I prov'd,
Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft,
Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake:
"Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres
Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.
Think on th' unusual burden thou sustain'st."
     As a small vessel, back'ning out from land,
Her station quits; so thence the monster loos'd,
And when he felt himself at large, turn'd round
There where the breast had been, his forked tail.
Thus, like an eel, outstretch'd at length he steer'd,
Gath'ring the air up with retractile claws.
     Not greater was the dread when Phaeton
The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven,
Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames;
Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv'd,
By liquefaction of the scalded wax,
The trusted pennons loosen'd from his loins,
His sire exclaiming loud, "Ill way thou keep'st!"
Than was my dread, when round me on each part
The air I view'd, and other object none
Save the fell beast.  He slowly sailing, wheels
His downward motion, unobserv'd of me,
But that the wind, arising to my face,
Breathes on me from below.  Now on our right
I heard the cataract beneath us leap
With hideous crash; whence bending down to' explore,
New terror I conceiv'd at the steep plunge:
For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear:
So that all trembling close I crouch'd my limbs,
And then distinguish'd, unperceiv'd before,
By the dread torments that on every side
Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound.
     As falcon, that hath long been on the wing,
But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair
The falconer cries, "Ah me! thou stoop'st to earth!"
Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky
In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits
At distance from his lord in angry mood;
So Geryon lighting places us on foot
Low down at base of the deep-furrow'd rock,
And, of his burden there discharg'd, forthwith
Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string.
THERE is a place within the depths of hell
Call'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'd
With hue ferruginous, e'en as the steep
That round it circling winds.  Right in the midst
Of that abominable region, yawns
A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame
Due time shall tell.  The circle, that remains,
Throughout its round, between the gulf and base
Of the high craggy banks, successive forms
Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk.
     As where to guard the walls, full many a foss
Begirds some stately castle, sure defence
Affording to the space within, so here
Were model'd these; and as like fortresses
E'en from their threshold to the brink without,
Are flank'd with bridges; from the rock's low base
Thus flinty paths advanc'd, that 'cross the moles
And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf,
That in one bound collected cuts them off.
Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves
From Geryon's back dislodg'd. The bard to left
Held on his way, and I behind him mov'd.
     On our right hand new misery I saw,
New pains, new executioners of wrath,
That swarming peopled the first chasm.  Below
Were naked sinners.  Hitherward they came,
Meeting our faces from the middle point,
With us beyond but with a larger stride.
E'en thus the Romans, when the year returns
Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid
The thronging multitudes, their means devise
For such as pass the bridge; that on one side
All front toward the castle, and approach
Saint Peter's fane, on th' other towards the mount.
     Each divers way along the grisly rock,
Horn'd demons I beheld, with lashes huge,
That on their back unmercifully smote.
Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe!
None for the second waited nor the third.
     Meantime as on I pass'd, one met my sight
Whom soon as view'd; "Of him," cried I, "not yet
Mine eye hath had his fill."  With fixed gaze
I therefore scann'd him.  Straight the teacher kind
Paus'd with me, and consented I should walk
Backward a space, and the tormented spirit,
Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down.
But it avail'd him nought; for I exclaim'd:
"Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground,
Unless thy features do belie thee much,
Venedico art thou.  But what brings thee
Into this bitter seas'ning? " He replied:
"Unwillingly I answer to thy words.
But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls
The world I once inhabited, constrains me.
Know then 'twas I who led fair Ghisola
To do the Marquis' will, however fame
The shameful tale have bruited.  Nor alone
Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn
Rather with us the place is so o'erthrong'd
That not so many tongues this day are taught,
Betwixt the Reno and Savena's stream,
To answer SIPA in their country's phrase.
And if of that securer proof thou need,
Remember but our craving thirst for gold."
     Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong
Struck, and exclaim'd, "Away! corrupter! here
Women are none for sale."  Forthwith I join'd
My escort, and few paces thence we came
To where a rock forth issued from the bank.
That easily ascended, to the right
Upon its splinter turning, we depart
From those eternal barriers. When arriv'd,
Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass
The scourged souls:  "Pause here," the teacher said,
"And let these others miserable, now
Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld,
For that together they with us have walk'd."
     From the old bridge we ey'd the pack, who came
From th' other side towards us, like the rest,
Excoriate from the lash.  My gentle guide,
By me unquestion'd, thus his speech resum'd:
"Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends,
And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear.
How yet the regal aspect he retains!
Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won
The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle
His passage thither led him, when those bold
And pitiless women had slain all their males.
There he with tokens and fair witching words
Hypsipyle beguil'd, a virgin young,
Who first had all the rest herself beguil'd.
Impregnated he left her there forlorn.
Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain.
Here too Medea's inj'ries are avenged.
All bear him company, who like deceit
To his have practis'd.  And thus much to know
Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those
Whom its keen torments urge."  Now had we come
Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten'd path
Bestrides its shoulders to another arch.
     Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts,
Who jibber in low melancholy sounds,
With wide-stretch'd nostrils snort, and on themselves
Smite with their palms.  Upon the banks a scurf
From the foul steam condens'd, encrusting hung,
That held sharp combat with the sight and smell.
     So hollow is the depth, that from no part,
Save on the summit of the rocky span,
Could I distinguish aught.  Thus far we came;
And thence I saw, within the foss below,
A crowd immers'd in ordure, that appear'd
Draff of the human body.  There beneath
Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark'd
One with his head so grim'd, 't were hard to deem,
If he were clerk or layman.  Loud he cried:
"Why greedily thus bendest more on me,
Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?"
     "Because if true my mem'ry," I replied,
"I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks,
And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung.
Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more."
     Then beating on his brain these words he spake:
"Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk,
Wherewith I ne'er enough could glut my tongue."
     My leader thus:  "A little further stretch
Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note
Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan,
Who there doth rend her with defiled nails,
Now crouching down, now risen on her feet.
Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip
Answer'd her doting paramour that ask'd,
'Thankest me much!'--'Say rather wondrously,'
And seeing this here satiate be our view."
WOE to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you,
His wretched followers! who the things of God,
Which should be wedded unto goodness, them,
Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute
For gold and silver in adultery!
Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours
Is the third chasm.  Upon the following vault
We now had mounted, where the rock impends
Directly o'er the centre of the foss.
     Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art,
Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth,
And in the evil world, how just a meed
Allotting by thy virtue unto all!
     I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides
And in its bottom full of apertures,
All equal in their width, and circular each,
Nor ample less nor larger they appear'd
Than in Saint John's fair dome of me belov'd
Those fram'd to hold the pure baptismal streams,
One of the which I brake, some few years past,
To save a whelming infant; and be this
A seal to undeceive whoever doubts
The motive of my deed.  From out the mouth
Of every one, emerg'd a sinner's feet
And of the legs high upward as the calf
The rest beneath was hid.  On either foot
The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints
Glanc'd with such violent motion, as had snapt
Asunder cords or twisted withs.  As flame,
Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along
The surface, scarcely touching where it moves;
So here, from heel to point, glided the flames.
     "Master! say who is he, than all the rest
Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom
A ruddier flame doth prey?"  I thus inquir'd.
     "If thou be willing," he replied, "that I
Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls,
He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs."
     I then:  "As pleases thee to me is best.
Thou art my lord; and know'st that ne'er I quit
Thy will:  what silence hides that knowest thou."
Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn'd,
And on our left descended to the depth,
A narrow strait and perforated close.
Nor from his side my leader set me down,
Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb
Quiv'ring express'd his pang.  "Whoe'er thou art,
Sad spirit! thus revers'd, and as a stake
Driv'n in the soil!"  I in these words began,
"If thou be able, utter forth thy voice."
     There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive
A wretch for murder doom'd, who e'en when fix'd,
Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays.
     He shouted:  "Ha! already standest there?
Already standest there, O Boniface!
By many a year the writing play'd me false.
So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth,
For which thou fearedst not in guile to take
The lovely lady, and then mangle her?"
     I felt as those who, piercing not the drift
Of answer made them, stand as if expos'd
In mockery, nor know what to reply,
When Virgil thus admonish'd:  "Tell him quick,
I am not he, not he, whom thou believ'st."
     And I, as was enjoin'd me, straight replied.
     That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet,
And sighing next in woeful accent spake:
"What then of me requirest?"  If to know
So much imports thee, who I am, that thou
Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn
That in the mighty mantle I was rob'd,
And of a she-bear was indeed the son,
So eager to advance my whelps, that there
My having in my purse above I stow'd,
And here myself.  Under my head are dragg'd
The rest, my predecessors in the guilt
Of simony.  Stretch'd at their length they lie
Along an opening in the rock.  'Midst them
I also low shall fall, soon as he comes,
For whom I took thee, when so hastily
I question'd.  But already longer time
Hath pass'd, since my souls kindled, and I thus
Upturn'd have stood, than is his doom to stand
Planted with fiery feet.  For after him,
One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive,
From forth the west, a shepherd without law,
Fated to cover both his form and mine.
He a new Jason shall be call'd, of whom
In Maccabees we read; and favour such
As to that priest his king indulgent show'd,
Shall be of France's monarch shown to him."
     I know not if I here too far presum'd,
But in this strain I answer'd:  "Tell me now,
What treasures from St. Peter at the first
Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys
Into his charge?  Surely he ask'd no more
But, Follow me!  Nor Peter nor the rest
Or gold or silver of Matthias took,
When lots were cast upon the forfeit place
Of the condemned soul.  Abide thou then;
Thy punishment of right is merited:
And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin,
Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir'd.
If reverence of the keys restrain'd me not,
Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet
Severer speech might use.  Your avarice
O'ercasts the world with mourning, under foot
Treading the good, and raising bad men up.
Of shepherds, like to you, th' Evangelist
Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves,
With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld,
She who with seven heads tower'd at her birth,
And from ten horns her proof of glory drew,
Long as her spouse in virtue took delight.
Of gold and silver ye have made your god,
Diff'ring wherein from the idolater,
But he that worships one, a hundred ye?
Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth,
Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower,
Which the first wealthy Father gain'd from thee!"
     Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath
Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang
Spinning on either sole.  I do believe
My teacher well was pleas'd, with so compos'd
A lip, he listen'd ever to the sound
Of the true words I utter'd.  In both arms
He caught, and to his bosom lifting me
Upward retrac'd the way of his descent.
     Nor weary of his weight he press'd me close,
Till to the summit of the rock we came,
Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier.
His cherish'd burden there gently he plac'd
Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path
Not easy for the clamb'ring goat to mount.
     Thence to my view another vale appear'd
AND now the verse proceeds to torments new,
Fit argument of this the twentieth strain
Of the first song, whose awful theme records
The spirits whelm'd in woe.  Earnest I look'd
Into the depth, that open'd to my view,
Moisten'd with tears of anguish, and beheld
A tribe, that came along the hollow vale,
In silence weeping:  such their step as walk
Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth.
     As on them more direct mine eye descends,
Each wondrously seem'd to be revers'd
At the neck-bone, so that the countenance
Was from the reins averted:  and because
None might before him look, they were compell'd
To' advance with backward gait.  Thus one perhaps
Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos'd,
But I ne'er saw it nor believe it so.
     Now, reader! think within thyself, so God
Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long
Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld
Near me our form distorted in such guise,
That on the hinder parts fall'n from the face
The tears down-streaming roll'd.  Against a rock
I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim'd:
"What, and art thou too witless as the rest?
Here pity most doth show herself alive,
When she is dead.  What guilt exceedeth his,
Who with Heaven's judgment in his passion strives?
Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man,
Before whose eyes earth gap'd in Thebes, when all
Cried out, 'Amphiaraus, whither rushest?
'Why leavest thou the war?'  He not the less
Fell ruining far as to Minos down,
Whose grapple none eludes.  Lo! how he makes
The breast his shoulders, and who once too far
Before him wish'd to see, now backward looks,
And treads reverse his path.  Tiresias note,
Who semblance chang'd, when woman he became
Of male, through every limb transform'd, and then
Once more behov'd him with his rod to strike
The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes,
That mark'd the better sex, might shoot again.
     "Aruns, with rere his belly facing, comes.
On Luni's mountains 'midst the marbles white,
Where delves Carrara's hind, who wons beneath,
A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars
And main-sea wide in boundless view he held.
     "The next, whose loosen'd tresses overspread
Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair
On that side grows) was Manto, she who search'd
Through many regions, and at length her seat
Fix'd in my native land, whence a short space
My words detain thy audience.  When her sire
From life departed, and in servitude
The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn'd,
Long time she went a wand'rer through the world.
Aloft in Italy's delightful land
A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp,
That o'er the Tyrol locks Germania in,
Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills,
Methinks, and more, water between the vale
Camonica and Garda and the height
Of Apennine remote.  There is a spot
At midway of that lake, where he who bears
Of Trento's flock the past'ral staff, with him
Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each
Passing that way his benediction give.
A garrison of goodly site and strong
Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos'd
The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore
More slope each way descends.  There, whatsoev'er
Benacus' bosom holds not, tumbling o'er
Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath
Through the green pastures.  Soon as in his course
The steam makes head, Benacus then no more
They call the name, but Mincius, till at last
Reaching Governo into Po he falls.
Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat
It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh
It covers, pestilent in summer oft.
Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw
'Midst of the fen a territory waste
And naked of inhabitants.  To shun
All human converse, here she with her slaves
Plying her arts remain'd, and liv'd, and left
Her body tenantless.  Thenceforth the tribes,
Who round were scatter'd, gath'ring to that place
Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos'd
On all parts by the fen.  On those dead bones
They rear'd themselves a city, for her sake,
Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot,
Nor ask'd another omen for the name,
Wherein more numerous the people dwelt,
Ere Casalodi's madness by deceit
Was wrong'd of Pinamonte.  If thou hear
Henceforth another origin assign'd
Of that my country, I forewarn thee now,
That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth."
     I answer'd:  "Teacher, I conclude thy words
So certain, that all else shall be to me
As embers lacking life.  But now of these,
Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see
Any that merit more especial note.
For thereon is my mind alone intent."
     He straight replied:  "That spirit, from whose cheek
The beard sweeps o'er his shoulders brown, what time
Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce
The cradles were supplied, the seer was he
In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign
When first to cut the cable.  Him they nam'd
Eurypilus:  so sings my tragic strain,
In which majestic measure well thou know'st,
Who know'st it all.  That other, round the loins
So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot,
Practis'd in ev'ry slight of magic wile.
     "Guido Bonatti see:   Asdente mark,
Who now were willing, he had tended still
The thread and cordwain; and too late repents.
     "See next the wretches, who the needle left,
The shuttle and the spindle, and became
Diviners:  baneful witcheries they wrought
With images and herbs.  But onward now:
For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine
On either hemisphere, touching the wave
Beneath the towers of Seville.  Yesternight
The moon was round.  Thou mayst remember well:
For she good service did thee in the gloom
Of the deep wood."  This said, both onward mov'd.
THUS we from bridge to bridge, with other talk,
The which my drama cares not to rehearse,
Pass'd on; and to the summit reaching, stood
To view another gap, within the round
Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs.
     Marvelous darkness shadow'd o'er the place.
     In the Venetians' arsenal as boils
Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear
Their unsound vessels; for th' inclement time
Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while
His bark one builds anew, another stops
The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage;
One hammers at the prow, one at the poop;
This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls,
The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent
So not by force of fire but art divine
Boil'd here a glutinous thick mass, that round
Lim'd all the shore beneath.  I that beheld,
But therein nought distinguish'd, save the surge,
Rais'd by the boiling, in one mighty swell
Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall.  While there
I fix'd my ken below, "Mark! mark!" my guide
Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place,
Wherein I stood.  I turn'd myself as one,
Impatient to behold that which beheld
He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans,
That he his flight delays not for the view.
Behind me I discern'd a devil black,
That running, up advanc'd along the rock.
Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake!
In act how bitter did he seem, with wings
Buoyant outstretch'd and feet of nimblest tread!
His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp
Was with a sinner charg'd; by either haunch
He held him, the foot's sinew griping fast.
     "Ye of our bridge!" he cried, "keen-talon'd fiends!
Lo! one of Santa Zita's elders!  Him
Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more.
That land hath store of such.  All men are there,
Except Bonturo, barterers: of 'no'
For lucre there an 'aye' is quickly made."
     Him dashing down, o'er the rough rock he turn'd,
Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos'd
Sped with like eager haste.  That other sank
And forthwith writing to the surface rose.
But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge,
Cried "Here the hallow'd visage saves not: here
Is other swimming than in Serchio's wave.
Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not,
Take heed thou mount not o'er the pitch."  This said,
They grappled him with more than hundred hooks,
And shouted:  "Cover'd thou must sport thee here;
So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch."
E'en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms,
To thrust the flesh into the caldron down
With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top.
     Me then my guide bespake:  "Lest they descry,
That thou art here, behind a craggy rock
Bend low and screen thee; and whate'er of force
Be offer'd me, or insult, fear thou not:
For I am well advis'd, who have been erst
In the like fray."  Beyond the bridge's head
Therewith he pass'd, and reaching the sixth pier,
Behov'd him then a forehead terror-proof.
     With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth
Upon the poor man's back, who suddenly
From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush'd
Those from beneath the arch, and against him
Their weapons all they pointed.  He aloud:
"Be none of you outrageous:  ere your time
Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one,
Who having heard my words, decide he then
If he shall tear these limbs."  They shouted loud,
"Go, Malacoda!"  Whereat one advanc'd,
The others standing firm, and as he came,
"What may this turn avail him?" he exclaim'd.
     "Believ'st thou, Malacoda!  I had come
Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,"
My teacher answered, "without will divine
And destiny propitious?  Pass we then
For so Heaven's pleasure is, that I should lead
Another through this savage wilderness."
     Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop
The instrument of torture at his feet,
And to the rest exclaim'd: "We have no power
To strike him."  Then to me my guide:  "O thou!
Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit
Low crouching, safely now to me return."
     I rose, and towards him moved with speed:  the fiends
Meantime all forward drew:  me terror seiz'd
Lest they should break the compact they had made.
Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw
Th' infantry dreading, lest his covenant
The foe should break; so close he hemm'd them round.
     I to my leader's side adher'd, mine eyes
With fixt and motionless observance bent
On their unkindly visage.  They their hooks
Protruding, one the other thus bespake:
"Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?"  To whom
Was answer'd:  "Even so; nor miss thy aim."
     But he, who was in conf'rence with my guide,
Turn'd rapid round, and thus the demon spake:
"Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!"  Then to us
He added:  "Further footing to your step
This rock affords not, shiver'd to the base
Of the sixth arch.  But would you still proceed,
Up by this cavern go:  not distant far,
Another rock will yield you passage safe.
Yesterday, later by five hours than now,
Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill'd
The circuit of their course, since here the way
Was broken.  Thitherward I straight dispatch
Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy
If any on the surface bask.  With them
Go ye:  for ye shall find them nothing fell.
Come Alichino forth," with that he cried,
"And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou!
The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead.
With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste,
Fang'd Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce,
And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant.
Search ye around the bubbling tar.  For these,
In safety lead them, where the other crag
Uninterrupted traverses the dens."
     I then:  "O master! what a sight is there!
Ah! without escort, journey we alone,
Which, if thou know the way, I covet not.
Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark
How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl
Threatens us present tortures?"  He replied:
"I charge thee fear not:  let them, as they will,
Gnarl on:  't is but in token of their spite
Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep'd."
     To leftward o'er the pier they turn'd; but each
Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue,
Toward their leader for a signal looking,
Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave.
IT hath been heretofore my chance to see
Horsemen with martial order shifting camp,
To onset sallying, or in muster rang'd,
Or in retreat sometimes outstretch'd for flight;
Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers
Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,
And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts,
Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,
Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,
And with inventions multiform, our own,
Or introduc'd from foreign land; but ne'er
To such a strange recorder I beheld,
In evolution moving, horse nor foot,
Nor ship, that tack'd by sign from land or star.
     With the ten demons on our way we went;
Ah fearful company!  but in the church
With saints, with gluttons at the tavern's mess.
     Still earnest on the pitch I gaz'd, to mark
All things whate'er the chasm contain'd, and those
Who burn'd within.  As dolphins, that, in sign
To mariners, heave high their arched backs,
That thence forewarn'd they may advise to save
Their threaten'd vessels; so, at intervals,
To ease the pain his back some sinner show'd,
Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance.
     E'en as the frogs, that of a wat'ry moat
Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out,
Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed,
Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon
As Barbariccia was at hand, so they
Drew back under the wave.  I saw, and yet
My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus,
As it befalls that oft one frog remains,
While the next springs away:  and Graffiacan,
Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz'd
His clotted locks, and dragg'd him sprawling up,
That he appear'd to me an otter.  Each
Already by their names I knew, so well
When they were chosen, I observ'd, and mark'd
How one the other call'd. "O Rubicant!
See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,"
Shouted together all the cursed crew.
     Then I:  "Inform thee, master!  if thou may,
What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand
His foes have laid."  My leader to his side
Approach'd, and whence he came inquir'd, to whom
Was answer'd thus:  "Born in Navarre's domain
My mother plac'd me in a lord's retinue,
For she had borne me to a losel vile,
A spendthrift of his substance and himself.
The good king Thibault after that I serv'd,
To peculating here my thoughts were turn'd,
Whereof I give account in this dire heat."
     Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk
Issued on either side, as from a boar,
Ript him with one of these.  'Twixt evil claws
The mouse had fall'n:  but Barbariccia cried,
Seizing him with both arms:  "Stand thou apart,
While I do fix him on my prong transpierc'd."
Then added, turning to my guide his face,
"Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,
Ere he again be rent."  My leader thus:
"Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;
Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land
Under the tar?"--"I parted," he replied,
"But now from one, who sojourn'd not far thence;
So were I under shelter now with him!
Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more."--.
     "Too long we suffer," Libicocco cried,
Then, darting forth a prong, seiz'd on his arm,
And mangled bore away the sinewy part.
Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath
Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief,
Turning on all sides round, with threat'ning brow
Restrain'd them.  When their strife a little ceas'd,
Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,
My teacher thus without delay inquir'd:
"Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap
Parting, as thou has told, thou cam'st to shore?"--
     "It was the friar Gomita," he rejoin'd,
"He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,
Who had his master's enemies in hand,
And us'd them so that they commend him well.
Money he took, and them at large dismiss'd.
So he reports:  and in each other charge
Committed to his keeping, play'd the part
Of barterer to the height:   with him doth herd
The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche.
Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue
Is never weary.  Out! alas! behold
That other, how he grins!  More would I say,
But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore."
     Their captain then to Farfarello turning,
Who roll'd his moony eyes in act to strike,
Rebuk'd him thus:  "Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!"--
     "If ye desire to see or hear," he thus
Quaking with dread resum'd, "or Tuscan spirits
Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear.
Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,
So that no vengeance they may fear from them,
And I, remaining in this self-same place,
Will for myself but one, make sev'n appear,
When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so
Our custom is to call each other up."
     Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn'd,
Then wagg'd the head and spake:  "Hear his device,
Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down."
     Whereto he thus, who fail'd not in rich store
Of nice-wove toils; " Mischief forsooth extreme,
Meant only to procure myself more woe!"
     No longer Alichino then refrain'd,
But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:
"If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot
Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat
My plumes.  Quit we the vantage ground, and let
The bank be as a shield, that we may see
If singly thou prevail against us all."
     Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear!
     They each one turn'd his eyes to the' other shore,
He first, who was the hardest to persuade.
The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,
Planted his feet on land, and at one leap
Escaping disappointed their resolve.
     Them quick resentment stung, but him the most,
Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit
He therefore sped, exclaiming;  "Thou art caught."
     But little it avail'd:  terror outstripp'd
His following flight:  the other plung'd beneath,
And he with upward pinion rais'd his breast:
E'en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives
The falcon near, dives instant down, while he
Enrag'd and spent retires.  That mockery
In Calcabrina fury stirr'd, who flew
After him, with desire of strife inflam'd;
And, for the barterer had 'scap'd, so turn'd
His talons on his comrade. O'er the dyke
In grapple close they join'd; but the' other prov'd
A goshawk able to rend well his foe;
And in the boiling lake both fell.  The heat
Was umpire soon between them, but in vain
To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued
Their pennons.  Barbariccia, as the rest,
That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch'd
From the' other coast, with all their weapons arm'd.
They, to their post on each side speedily
Descending, stretch'd their hooks toward the fiends,
Who flounder'd, inly burning from their scars:
And we departing left them to that broil.
IN silence and in solitude we went,
One first, the other following his steps,
As minor friars journeying on their road.
     The present fray had turn'd my thoughts to muse
Upon old Aesop's fable, where he told
What fate unto the mouse and frog befell.
For language hath not sounds more like in sense,
Than are these chances, if the origin
And end of each be heedfully compar'd.
And as one thought bursts from another forth,
So afterward from that another sprang,
Which added doubly to my former fear.
For thus I reason'd:  "These through us have been
So foil'd, with loss and mock'ry so complete,
As needs must sting them sore.  If anger then
Be to their evil will conjoin'd, more fell
They shall pursue us, than the savage hound
Snatches the leveret, panting 'twixt his jaws."
     Already I perceiv'd my hair stand all
On end with terror, and look'd eager back.
     "Teacher," I thus began, "if speedily
Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread
Those evil talons.  Even now behind
They urge us:  quick imagination works
So forcibly, that I already feel them.''
     He answer'd:  "Were I form'd of leaded glass,
I should not sooner draw unto myself
Thy outward image, than I now imprint
That from within.  This moment came thy thoughts
Presented before mine, with similar act
And count'nance similar, so that from both
I one design have fram'd.  If the right coast
Incline so much, that we may thence descend
Into the other chasm, we shall escape
Secure from this imagined pursuit."
     He had not spoke his purpose to the end,
When I from far beheld them with spread wings
Approach to take us.  Suddenly my guide
Caught me, ev'n as a mother that from sleep
Is by the noise arous'd, and near her sees
The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe
And flies ne'er pausing, careful more of him
Than of herself, that but a single vest
Clings round her limbs.  Down from the jutting beach
Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock,
Which closes on one part the other chasm.
     Never ran water with such hurrying pace
Adown the tube to turn a landmill's wheel,
When nearest it approaches to the spokes,
As then along that edge my master ran,
Carrying me in his bosom, as a child,
Not a companion.  Scarcely had his feet
Reach'd to the lowest of the bed beneath,
When over us the steep they reach'd; but fear
In him was none; for that high Providence,
Which plac'd them ministers of the fifth foss,
Power of departing thence took from them all.
     There in the depth we saw a painted tribe,
Who pac'd with tardy steps around, and wept,
Faint in appearance and o'ercome with toil.
Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down
Before their eyes, in fashion like to those
Worn by the monks in Cologne.  Their outside
Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view,
But leaden all within, and of such weight,
That Frederick's compar'd to these were straw.
Oh, everlasting wearisome attire!
     We yet once more with them together turn'd
To leftward, on their dismal moan intent.
But by the weight oppress'd, so slowly came
The fainting people, that our company
Was chang'd at every movement of the step.
     Whence I my guide address'd:  "See that thou find
Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known,
And to that end look round thee as thou go'st."
     Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice,
Cried after us aloud:  "Hold in your feet,
Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air.
Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish."
     Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake:
"Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed."
     I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look
Impatient eagerness of mind was mark'd
To overtake me; but the load they bare
And narrow path retarded their approach.
     Soon as arriv'd, they with an eye askance
Perus'd me, but spake not: then turning each
To other thus conferring said:  "This one
Seems, by the action of his throat, alive.
And, be they dead, what privilege allows
They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?"
     Then thus to me:  "Tuscan, who visitest
The college of the mourning hypocrites,
Disdain not to instruct us who thou art."
     "By Arno's pleasant stream," I thus replied,
"In the great city I was bred and grew,
And wear the body I have ever worn.
but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief,
As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks?
What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?"
"Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,"
One of them answer'd, "are so leaden gross,
That with their weight they make the balances
To crack beneath them.  Joyous friars we were,
Bologna's natives, Catalano I,
He Loderingo nam'd, and by thy land
Together taken, as men used to take
A single and indifferent arbiter,
To reconcile their strifes.  How there we sped,
Gardingo's vicinage can best declare."
     "O friars!"  I began, "your miseries--"
But there brake off, for one had caught my eye,
Fix'd to a cross with three stakes on the ground:
He, when he saw me, writh'd himself, throughout
Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard.
And Catalano, who thereof was 'ware,
Thus spake:  "That pierced spirit, whom intent
Thou view'st, was he who gave the Pharisees
Counsel, that it were fitting for one man
To suffer for the people.  He doth lie
Transverse; nor any passes, but him first
Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs.
In straits like this along the foss are plac'd
The father of his consort, and the rest
Partakers in that council, seed of ill
And sorrow to the Jews."  I noted then,
How Virgil gaz'd with wonder upon him,
Thus abjectly extended on the cross
In banishment eternal.  To the friar
He next his words address'd:  "We pray ye tell,
If so be lawful, whether on our right
Lies any opening in the rock, whereby
We both may issue hence, without constraint
On the dark angels, that compell'd they come
To lead us from this depth."  He thus replied:
"Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock
From the next circle moving, which o'ersteps
Each vale of horror, save that here his cope
Is shatter'd.  By the ruin ye may mount:
For on the side it slants, and most the height
Rises below."  With head bent down awhile
My leader stood, then spake:  "He warn'd us ill,
Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook."
     To whom the friar:  At Bologna erst
I many vices of the devil heard,
Among the rest was said, 'He is a liar,
And the father of lies!'"  When he had spoke,
My leader with large strides proceeded on,
Somewhat disturb'd with anger in his look.
     I therefore left the spirits heavy laden,
And following, his beloved footsteps mark'd.
IN the year's early nonage, when the sun
Tempers his tresses in Aquarius' urn,
And now towards equal day the nights recede,
When as the rime upon the earth puts on
Her dazzling sister's image, but not long
Her milder sway endures, then riseth up
The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,
And looking out beholds the plain around
All whiten'd, whence impatiently he smites
His thighs, and to his hut returning in,
There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,
As a discomfited and helpless man;
Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope
Spring in his bosom, finding e'en thus soon
The world hath chang'd its count'nance, grasps his crook,
And forth to pasture drives his little flock:
So me my guide dishearten'd when I saw
His troubled forehead, and so speedily
That ill was cur'd; for at the fallen bridge
Arriving, towards me with a look as sweet,
He turn'd him back, as that I first beheld
At the steep mountain's foot.  Regarding well
The ruin, and some counsel first maintain'd
With his own thought, he open'd wide his arm
And took me up.  As one, who, while he works,
Computes his labour's issue, that he seems
Still to foresee the' effect, so lifting me
Up to the summit of one peak, he fix'd
His eye upon another.  "Grapple that,"
Said he, "but first make proof, if it be such
As will sustain thee."  For one capp'd with lead
This were no journey.  Scarcely he, though light,
And I, though onward push'd from crag to crag,
Could mount.  And if the precinct of this coast
Were not less ample than the last, for him
I know not, but my strength had surely fail'd.
But Malebolge all toward the mouth
Inclining of the nethermost abyss,
The site of every valley hence requires,
That one side upward slope, the other fall.
     At length the point of our descent we reach'd
From the last flag: soon as to that arriv'd,
So was the breath exhausted from my lungs,
I could no further, but did seat me there.
     "Now needs thy best of man;" so spake my guide:
"For not on downy plumes, nor under shade
Of canopy reposing, fame is won,
Without which whosoe'er consumes his days
Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth,
As smoke in air or foam upon the wave.
Thou therefore rise:  vanish thy weariness
By the mind's effort, in each struggle form'd
To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight
Of her corporeal frame to crush her down.
A longer ladder yet remains to scale.
From these to have escap'd sufficeth not.
If well thou note me, profit by my words."
     I straightway rose, and show'd myself less spent
Than I in truth did feel me.  "On," I cried,
"For I am stout and fearless."  Up the rock
Our way we held, more rugged than before,
Narrower and steeper far to climb.  From talk
I ceas'd not, as we journey'd, so to seem
Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss
Did issue forth, for utt'rance suited ill.
Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,
What were the words I knew not, but who spake
Seem'd mov'd in anger.  Down I stoop'd to look,
But my quick eye might reach not to the depth
For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:
"To the next circle, Teacher, bend thy steps,
And from the wall dismount we; for as hence
I hear and understand not, so I see
Beneath, and naught discern."--"I answer not,"
Said he, "but by the deed.  To fair request
Silent performance maketh best return."
     We from the bridge's head descended, where
To the eighth mound it joins, and then the chasm
Opening to view, I saw a crowd within
Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape
And hideous, that remembrance in my veins
Yet shrinks the vital current.  Of her sands
Let Lybia vaunt no more:  if Jaculus,
Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,
Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire
Or in such numbers swarming ne'er she shew'd,
Not with all Ethiopia, and whate'er
Above the Erythraean sea is spawn'd.
     Amid this dread exuberance of woe
Ran naked spirits wing'd with horrid fear,
Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide,
Or heliotrope to charm them out of view.
With serpents were their hands behind them bound,
Which through their reins infix'd the tail and head
Twisted in folds before.  And lo!  on one
Near to our side, darted an adder up,
And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied,
Transpierc'd him.  Far more quickly than e'er pen
Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn'd, and chang'd
To ashes, all pour'd out upon the earth.
When there dissolv'd he lay, the dust again
Uproll'd spontaneous, and the self-same form
Instant resumed.  So mighty sages tell,
The' Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years
Have well nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith
Renascent.  Blade nor herb throughout his life
He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone
And odorous amomum:  swaths of nard
And myrrh his funeral shroud.  As one that falls,
He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg'd
To earth, or through obstruction fettering up
In chains invisible the powers of man,
Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around,
Bewilder'd with the monstrous agony
He hath endur'd, and wildly staring sighs;
So stood aghast the sinner when he rose.
     Oh!  how severe God's judgment, that deals out
Such blows in stormy vengeance!  Who he was
My teacher next inquir'd, and thus in few
He answer'd:  "Vanni Fucci am I call'd,
Not long since rained down from Tuscany
To this dire gullet.  Me the beastial life
And not the human pleas'd, mule that I was,
Who in Pistoia found my worthy den."
     I then to Virgil:  "Bid him stir not hence,
And ask what crime did thrust him hither:  once
A man I knew him choleric and bloody."
     The sinner heard and feign'd not, but towards me
His mind directing and his face, wherein
Was dismal shame depictur'd, thus he spake:
"It grieves me more to have been caught by thee
In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than
When I was taken from the other life.
I have no power permitted to deny
What thou inquirest."  I am doom'd thus low
To dwell, for that the sacristy by me
Was rifled of its goodly ornaments,
And with the guilt another falsely charged.
But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus,
So as thou e'er shalt 'scape this darksome realm
Open thine ears and hear what I forebode.
Reft of the Neri first Pistoia pines,
Then Florence changeth citizens and laws.
From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars,
A vapour rises, wrapt in turbid mists,
And sharp and eager driveth on the storm
With arrowy hurtling o'er Piceno's field,
Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike
Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground.
This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart."
WHEN he had spoke, the sinner rais'd his hands
Pointed in mockery, and cried:  "Take them, God!
I level them at thee!"  From that day forth
The serpents were my friends; for round his neck
One of then rolling twisted, as it said,
"Be silent, tongue!"  Another to his arms
Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself
So close, it took from them the power to move.
     Pistoia!  Ah Pistoia!  why dost doubt
To turn thee into ashes, cumb'ring earth
No longer, since in evil act so far
Thou hast outdone thy seed?  I did not mark,
Through all the gloomy circles of the' abyss,
Spirit, that swell'd so proudly 'gainst his God,
Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes.  He fled,
Nor utter'd more; and after him there came
A centaur full of fury, shouting, "Where
Where is the caitiff?"  On Maremma's marsh
Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch
They swarm'd, to where the human face begins.
Behind his head upon the shoulders lay,
With open wings, a dragon breathing fire
On whomsoe'er he met.  To me my guide:
"Cacus is this, who underneath the rock
Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood.
He, from his brethren parted, here must tread
A different journey, for his fraudful theft
Of the great herd, that near him stall'd; whence found
His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace
Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on
A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt."
     While yet he spake, the centaur sped away:
And under us three spirits came, of whom
Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim'd;
"Say who are ye?"  We then brake off discourse,
Intent on these alone.  I knew them not;
But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one
Had need to name another.  "Where," said he,
"Doth Cianfa lurk?"  I, for a sign my guide
Should stand attentive, plac'd against my lips
The finger lifted.  If, O reader!  now
Thou be not apt to credit what I tell,
No marvel; for myself do scarce allow
The witness of mine eyes.  But as I looked
Toward them, lo!  a serpent with six feet
Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him:
His midmost grasp'd the belly, a forefoot
Seiz'd on each arm (while deep in either cheek
He flesh'd his fangs); the hinder on the thighs
Were spread, 'twixt which the tail inserted curl'd
Upon the reins behind.  Ivy ne'er clasp'd
A dodder'd oak, as round the other's limbs
The hideous monster intertwin'd his own.
Then, as they both had been of burning wax,
Each melted into other, mingling hues,
That which was either now was seen no more.
Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns,
A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black,
And the clean white expires.  The other two
Look'd on exclaiming:  "Ah, how dost thou change,
Agnello!  See!  Thou art nor double now,
Nor only one."  The two heads now became
One, and two figures blended in one form
Appear'd, where both were lost.  Of the four lengths
Two arms were made:  the belly and the chest
The thighs and legs into such members chang'd,
As never eye hath seen.  Of former shape
All trace was vanish'd.  Two yet neither seem'd
That image miscreate, and so pass'd on
With tardy steps.  As underneath the scourge
Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields,
Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems
A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road,
So toward th' entrails of the other two
Approaching seem'd, an adder all on fire,
As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart.
In that part, whence our life is nourish'd first,
One he transpierc'd; then down before him fell
Stretch'd out.  The pierced spirit look'd on him
But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn'd,
As if by sleep or fev'rous fit assail'd.
He ey'd the serpent, and the serpent him.
One from the wound, the other from the mouth
Breath'd a thick smoke, whose vap'ry columns join'd.
     Lucan in mute attention now may hear,
Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus!  tell,
Nor shine, Nasidius!  Ovid now be mute.
What if in warbling fiction he record
Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake
Him chang'd, and her into a fountain clear,
I envy not; for never face to face
Two natures thus transmuted did he sing,
Wherein both shapes were ready to assume
The other's substance.  They in mutual guise
So answer'd, that the serpent split his train
Divided to a fork, and the pierc'd spirit
Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs
Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon
Was visible:  the tail disparted took
The figure which the spirit lost, its skin
Soft'ning, his indurated to a rind.
The shoulders next I mark'd, that ent'ring join'd
The monster's arm-pits, whose two shorter feet
So lengthen'd, as the other's dwindling shrunk.
The feet behind then twisting up became
That part that man conceals, which in the wretch
Was cleft in twain.  While both the shadowy smoke
With a new colour veils, and generates
Th' excrescent pile on one, peeling it off
From th' other body, lo!  upon his feet
One upright rose, and prone the other fell.
Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps
Were shifted, though each feature chang'd beneath.
Of him who stood erect, the mounting face
Retreated towards the temples, and what there
Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears
From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg'd,
Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell'd
Into due size protuberant the lips.
He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends
His sharpen'd visage, and draws down the ears
Into the head, as doth the slug his horns.
His tongue continuous before and apt
For utt'rance, severs; and the other's fork
Closing unites.  That done the smoke was laid.
The soul, transform'd into the brute, glides off,
Hissing along the vale, and after him
The other talking sputters; but soon turn'd
His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few
Thus to another spake:  "Along this path
Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!"
     So saw I fluctuate in successive change
Th' unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:
And here if aught my tongue have swerv'd, events
So strange may be its warrant.  O'er mine eyes
Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze.
     Yet 'scap'd they not so covertly, but well
I mark'd Sciancato:  he alone it was
Of the three first that came, who chang'd not:  thou,
The other's fate, Gaville, still dost rue.
FLORENCE exult!  for thou so mightily
Hast thriven, that o'er land and sea thy wings
Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell!
Among the plund'rers such the three I found
Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son,
And no proud honour to thyself redounds.
     But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn,
Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long
Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest)
Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance
Were in good time, if it befell thee now.
Would so it were, since it must needs befall!
For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more.
     We from the depth departed; and my guide
Remounting scal'd the flinty steps, which late
We downward trac'd, and drew me up the steep.
Pursuing thus our solitary way
Among the crags and splinters of the rock,
Sped not our feet without the help of hands.
     Then sorrow seiz'd me, which e'en now revives,
As my thought turns again to what I saw,
And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb
The powers of nature in me, lest they run
Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good
My gentle star, or something better gave me,
I envy not myself the precious boon.
     As in that season, when the sun least veils
His face that lightens all, what time the fly
Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then
Upon some cliff reclin'd, beneath him sees
Fire-flies innumerous spangling o'er the vale,
Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies:
With flames so numberless throughout its space
Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth
Was to my view expos'd. As he, whose wrongs
The bears aveng'd, at its departure saw
Elijah's chariot, when the steeds erect
Rais'd their steep flight for heav'n; his eyes meanwhile,
Straining pursu'd them, till the flame alone
Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn'd;
E'en thus along the gulf moves every flame,
A sinner so enfolded close in each,
That none exhibits token of the theft.
     Upon the bridge I forward bent to look,
And grasp'd a flinty mass, or else had fall'n,
Though push'd not from the height.  The guide, who mark d
How I did gaze attentive, thus began:
"Within these ardours are the spirits, each
Swath'd in confining fire."--"Master, thy word,"
I answer'd, "hath assur'd me; yet I deem'd
Already of the truth, already wish'd
To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes
So parted at the summit, as it seem'd
Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay
The Theban brothers?"  He replied:  "Within
Ulysses there and Diomede endure
Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now
Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath.
These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore
The ambush of the horse, that open'd wide
A portal for that goodly seed to pass,
Which sow'd imperial Rome; nor less the guile
Lament they, whence of her Achilles 'reft
Deidamia yet in death complains.
And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy
Of her Palladium spoil'd."--"If they have power
Of utt'rance from within these sparks," said I,
"O master!  think my prayer a thousand fold
In repetition urg'd, that thou vouchsafe
To pause, till here the horned flame arrive.
See, how toward it with desire I bend."
     He thus:  "Thy prayer is worthy of much praise,
And I accept it therefore:  but do thou
Thy tongue refrain:  to question them be mine,
For I divine thy wish:  and they perchance,
For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee."
     When there the flame had come, where time and place
Seem'd fitting to my guide, he thus began:
"O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire!
If living I of you did merit aught,
Whate'er the measure were of that desert,
When in the world my lofty strain I pour'd,
Move ye not on, till one of you unfold
In what clime death o'ertook him self-destroy'd."
     Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn
Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire
That labours with the wind, then to and fro
Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds,
Threw out its voice, and spake:  "When I escap'd
From Circe, who beyond a circling year
Had held me near Caieta, by her charms,
Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam'd the shore,
Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence
Of my old father, nor return of love,
That should have crown'd Penelope with joy,
Could overcome in me the zeal I had
T' explore the world, and search the ways of life,
Man's evil and his virtue.  Forth I sail'd
Into the deep illimitable main,
With but one bark, and the small faithful band
That yet cleav'd to me.  As Iberia far,
Far as Morocco either shore I saw,
And the Sardinian and each isle beside
Which round that ocean bathes.  Tardy with age
Were I and my companions, when we came
To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain'd
The bound'ries not to be o'erstepp'd by man.
The walls of Seville to my right I left,
On the' other hand already Ceuta past.
"O brothers!"  I began, "who to the west
Through perils without number now have reach'd,
To this the short remaining watch, that yet
Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof
Of the unpeopled world, following the track
Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang:
Ye were not form'd to live the life of brutes
But virtue to pursue and knowledge high.
With these few words I sharpen'd for the voyage
The mind of my associates, that I then
Could scarcely have withheld them.  To the dawn
Our poop we turn'd, and for the witless flight
Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left.
Each star of the' other pole night now beheld,
And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor
It rose not.  Five times re-illum'd, as oft
Vanish'd the light from underneath the moon
Since the deep way we enter'd, when from far
Appear'd a mountain dim, loftiest methought
Of all I e'er beheld.  Joy seiz'd us straight,
But soon to mourning changed.  From the new land
A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side
Did strike the vessel.  Thrice it whirl'd her round
With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up
The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:
And over us the booming billow clos'd."
NOW upward rose the flame, and still'd its light
To speak no more, and now pass'd on with leave
From the mild poet gain'd, when following came
Another, from whose top a sound confus'd,
Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look.
     As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully
His cries first echoed, who had shap'd its mould,
Did so rebellow, with the voice of him
Tormented, that the brazen monster seem'd
Pierc'd through with pain; thus while no way they found
Nor avenue immediate through the flame,
Into its language turn'd the dismal words:
But soon as they had won their passage forth,
Up from the point, which vibrating obey'd
Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard:
"O thou!  to whom I now direct my voice!
That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase,
     Depart thou, I solicit thee no more,'
Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive
Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile,
And with me parley:  lo! it irks not me
And yet I burn.  If but e'en now thou fall
into this blind world, from that pleasant land
Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt,
Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell,
Have peace or war.  For of the mountains there
Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height,
Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood."
     Leaning I listen'd yet with heedful ear,
When, as he touch'd my side, the leader thus:
"Speak thou: he is a Latian."  My reply
Was ready, and I spake without delay:
     "O spirit!  who art hidden here below!
Never was thy Romagna without war
In her proud tyrants' bosoms, nor is now:
But open war there left I none.  The state,
Ravenna hath maintain'd this many a year,
Is steadfast.  There Polenta's eagle broods,
And in his broad circumference of plume
O'ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp
The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long,
And pil'd in bloody heap the host of France.
     "The' old mastiff of Verruchio and the young,
That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make,
Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs.
     "Lamone's city and Santerno's range
Under the lion of the snowy lair.
Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides,
Or ever summer yields to winter's frost.
And she, whose flank is wash'd of Savio's wave,
As 'twixt the level and the steep she lies,
Lives so 'twixt tyrant power and liberty.
     "Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou?
Be not more hard than others.  In the world,
So may thy name still rear its forehead high."
     Then roar'd awhile the fire, its sharpen'd point
On either side wav'd, and thus breath'd at last:
"If I did think, my answer were to one,
Who ever could return unto the world,
This flame should rest unshaken.  But since ne'er,
If true be told me, any from this depth
Has found his upward way, I answer thee,
Nor fear lest infamy record the words.
     "A man of arms at first, I cloth'd me then
In good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping so
T' have made amends.  And certainly my hope
Had fail'd not, but that he, whom curses light on,
The' high priest again seduc'd me into sin.
And how and wherefore listen while I tell.
Long as this spirit mov'd the bones and pulp
My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake
The nature of the lion than the fox.
All ways of winding subtlety I knew,
And with such art conducted, that the sound
Reach'd the world's limit.  Soon as to that part
Of life I found me come, when each behoves
To lower sails and gather in the lines;
That which before had pleased me then I rued,
And to repentance and confession turn'd;
Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me!
The chief of the new Pharisees meantime,
Waging his warfare near the Lateran,
Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes
All Christians were, nor against Acre one
Had fought, nor traffic'd in the Soldan's land),
He his great charge nor sacred ministry
In himself, rev'renc'd, nor in me that cord,
Which us'd to mark with leanness whom it girded.
As in Socrate, Constantine besought
To cure his leprosy Sylvester's aid,
So me to cure the fever of his pride
This man besought: my counsel to that end
He ask'd:  and I was silent:  for his words
Seem'd drunken:  but forthwith he thus resum'd:
"From thy heart banish fear:  of all offence
I hitherto absolve thee.  In return,
Teach me my purpose so to execute,
That Penestrino cumber earth no more.
Heav'n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut
And open:  and the keys are therefore twain,
The which my predecessor meanly priz'd."
     Then, yielding to the forceful arguments,
Of silence as more perilous I deem'd,
And answer'd:  "Father! since thou washest me
Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall,
Large promise with performance scant, be sure,
Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat."
     "When I was number'd with the dead, then came
Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark
He met, who cried: "'Wrong me not; he is mine,
And must below to join the wretched crew,
For the deceitful counsel which he gave.
E'er since I watch'd him, hov'ring at his hair,
No power can the impenitent absolve;
Nor to repent and will at once consist,
By contradiction absolute forbid."
Oh mis'ry! how I shook myself, when he
Seiz'd me, and cried, "Thou haply thought'st me not
A disputant in logic so exact."
To Minos down he bore me, and the judge
Twin'd eight times round his callous back the tail,
Which biting with excess of rage, he spake:
"This is a guilty soul, that in the fire
Must vanish.'  Hence perdition-doom'd I rove
A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb."
     When he had thus fulfill'd his words, the flame
In dolour parted, beating to and fro,
And writhing its sharp horn.  We onward went,
I and my leader, up along the rock,
Far as another arch, that overhangs
The foss, wherein the penalty is paid
Of those, who load them with committed sin.
CANTO XXVIII
WHO, e'en in words unfetter'd, might at full
Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw,
Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue
So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought
Both impotent alike.  If in one band
Collected, stood the people all, who e'er
Pour'd on Apulia's happy soil their blood,
Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war
When of the rings the measur'd booty made
A pile so high, as Rome's historian writes
Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt
The grinding force of Guiscard's Norman steel,
And those the rest, whose bones are gather'd yet
At Ceperano, there where treachery
Branded th' Apulian name, or where beyond
Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms
The old Alardo conquer'd; and his limbs
One were to show transpierc'd, another his
Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this
Were but a thing of nought, to the' hideous sight
Of the ninth chasm.  A rundlet, that hath lost
Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide,
As one I mark'd, torn from the chin throughout
Down to the hinder passage: 'twixt the legs
Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay
Open to view, and wretched ventricle,
That turns th' englutted aliment to dross.
     Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze,
He ey'd me, with his hands laid his breast bare,
And cried;  "Now mark how I do rip me!  lo!
How is Mohammed mangled!  before me
Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face
Cleft to the forelock; and the others all
Whom here thou seest, while they liv'd, did sow
Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent.
A fiend is here behind, who with his sword
Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again
Each of this ream, when we have compast round
The dismal way, for first our gashes close
Ere we repass before him.  But say who
Art thou, that standest musing on the rock,
Haply so lingering to delay the pain
Sentenc'd upon thy crimes?"--"Him death not yet,"
My guide rejoin'd, "hath overta'en, nor sin
Conducts to torment; but, that he may make
Full trial of your state, I who am dead
Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb,
Conduct him.  Trust my words, for they are true."
     More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard,
Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed,
Forgetful of their pangs.  "Thou, who perchance
Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou
Bear to Dolcino:  bid him, if he wish not
Here soon to follow me, that with good store
Of food he arm him, lest impris'ning snows
Yield him a victim to Novara's power,
No easy conquest else."  With foot uprais'd
For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground
Then fix'd it to depart.  Another shade,
Pierc'd in the throat, his nostrils mutilate
E'en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear
Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood
Gazing, before the rest advanc'd, and bar'd
His wind-pipe, that without was all o'ersmear'd
With crimson stain.  "O thou!" said 'he, "whom sin
Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near
Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft
Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind
Piero of Medicina, if again
Returning, thou behold'st the pleasant land
That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo;
And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts
Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo,
That if 't is giv'n us here to scan aright
The future, they out of life's tenement
Shall be cast forth, and whelm'd under the waves
Near to Cattolica, through perfidy
Of a fell tyrant.  'Twixt the Cyprian isle
And Balearic, ne'er hath Neptune seen
An injury so foul, by pirates done
Or Argive crew of old.  That one-ey'd traitor
(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain
His eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bring
To conf'rence with him, then so shape his end,
That they shall need not 'gainst Focara's wind
Offer up vow nor pray'r."  I answering thus:
     "Declare, as thou dost wish that I above
May carry tidings of thee, who is he,
In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?"
     Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone
Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws
Expanding, cried:  "Lo! this is he I wot of;
He speaks not for himself:  the outcast this
Who overwhelm'd the doubt in Caesar's mind,
Affirming that delay to men prepar'd
Was ever harmful.  "Oh  how terrified
Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut
The tongue, which spake that hardy word.  Then one
Maim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloom
The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots
Sullied his face, and cried: "'Remember thee
Of Mosca, too, I who, alas!  exclaim'd,
'The deed once done there is an end,' that prov'd
A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race."
     I added:  "Ay, and death to thine own tribe."
     Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off,
As one grief stung to madness.  But I there
Still linger'd to behold the troop, and saw
Things, such as I may fear without more proof
To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,
The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate
Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within
And bids him on and fear not.  Without doubt
I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,
A headless trunk, that even as the rest
Of the sad flock pac'd onward.  By the hair
It bore the sever'd member, lantern-wise
Pendent in hand, which look'd at us and said,
"Woe's me!"  The spirit lighted thus himself,
And two there were in one, and one in two.
How that may be he knows who ordereth so.
     When at the bridge's foot direct he stood,
His arm aloft he rear'd, thrusting the head
Full in our view, that nearer we might hear
The words, which thus it utter'd:  "Now behold
This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go'st
To spy the dead; behold if any else
Be terrible as this.  And that on earth
Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I
Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John
The counsel mischievous.  Father and son
I set at mutual war.  For Absalom
And David more did not Ahitophel,
Spurring them on maliciously to strife.
For parting those so closely knit, my brain
Parted, alas!  I carry from its source,
That in this trunk inhabits.  Thus the law
Of retribution fiercely works in me."
SO were mine eyes inebriate with view
Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds
Disfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep.
     But Virgil rous'd me:  "What yet gazest on?
Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below
Among the maim'd and miserable shades?
Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside
This weakness.  Know, if thou wouldst number them
That two and twenty miles the valley winds
Its circuit, and already is the moon
Beneath our feet:  the time permitted now
Is short, and more not seen remains to see."
     "If thou," I straight replied, "hadst weigh'd the cause
For which I look'd, thou hadst perchance excus'd
The tarrying still."  My leader part pursu'd
His way, the while I follow'd, answering him,
And adding thus:  "Within that cave I deem,
Whereon so fixedly I held my ken,
There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood,
Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear."
     Then spake my master: "Let thy soul no more
Afflict itself for him.  Direct elsewhere
Its thought, and leave him.  At the bridge's foot
I mark'd how he did point with menacing look
At thee, and heard him by the others nam'd
Geri of Bello.  Thou so wholly then
Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul'd
The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not
That way, ere he was gone."--"O guide belov'd!
His violent death yet unaveng'd," said I,
"By any, who are partners in his shame,
Made him contemptuous:  therefore, as I think,
He pass'd me speechless by; and doing so
Hath made me more compassionate his fate."
     So we discours'd to where the rock first show'd
The other valley, had more light been there,
E'en to the lowest depth.  Soon as we came
O'er the last cloister in the dismal rounds
Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood
Were to our view expos'd, then many a dart
Of sore lament assail'd me, headed all
With points of thrilling pity, that I clos'd
Both ears against the volley with mine hands.
     As were the torment, if each lazar-house
Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time
'Twixt July and September, with the isle
Sardinia and Maremma's pestilent fen,
Had heap'd their maladies all in one foss
Together; such was here the torment: dire
The stench, as issuing steams from fester'd limbs.
     We on the utmost shore of the long rock
Descended still to leftward.  Then my sight
Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein
The minister of the most mighty Lord,
All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment
The forgers noted on her dread record.
     More rueful was it not methinks to see
The nation in Aegina droop, what time
Each living thing, e'en to the little worm,
All fell, so full of malice was the air
(And afterward, as bards of yore have told,
The ancient people were restor'd anew
From seed of emmets) than was here to see
The spirits, that languish'd through the murky vale
Up-pil'd on many a stack.  Confus'd they lay,
One o'er the belly, o'er the shoulders one
Roll'd of another; sideling crawl'd a third
Along the dismal pathway.  Step by step
We journey'd on, in silence looking round
And list'ning those diseas'd, who strove in vain
To lift their forms.  Then two I mark'd, that sat
Propp'd 'gainst each other, as two brazen pans
Set to retain the heat.  From head to foot,
A tetter bark'd them round. Nor saw I e'er
Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord
Impatient waited, or himself perchance
Tir'd with long watching, as of these each one
Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness
Of ne'er abated pruriency.  The crust
Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales
Scrap'd from the bream or fish of broader mail.
     "O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off
Thy coat of proof," thus spake my guide to one,
"And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them,
Tell me if any born of Latian land
Be among these within: so may thy nails
Serve thee for everlasting to this toil."
     "Both are of Latium," weeping he replied,
"Whom tortur'd thus thou seest:  but who art thou
That hast inquir'd of us?"  To whom my guide:
"One that descend with this man, who yet lives,
From rock to rock, and show him hell's abyss."
     Then started they asunder, and each turn'd
Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear
Those words redounding struck.  To me my liege
Address'd him:  "Speak to them whate'er thou list."
     And I therewith began:  "So may no time
Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men
In th' upper world, but after many suns
Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are,
And of what race ye come.  Your punishment,
Unseemly and disgustful in its kind,
Deter you not from opening thus much to me."
     "Arezzo was my dwelling," answer'd one,
"And me Albero of Sienna brought
To die by fire; but that, for which I died,
Leads me not here.  True is in sport I told him,
That I had learn'd to wing my flight in air.
And he admiring much, as he was void
Of wisdom, will'd me to declare to him
The secret of mine art:  and only hence,
Because I made him not a Daedalus,
Prevail'd on one suppos'd his sire to burn me.
But Minos to this chasm last of the ten,
For that I practis'd alchemy on earth,
Has doom'd me.  Him no subterfuge eludes."
     Then to the bard I spake:  "Was ever race
Light as Sienna's?  Sure not France herself
Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain."
     The other leprous spirit heard my words,
And thus return'd:  "Be Stricca from this charge
Exempted, he who knew so temp'rately
To lay out fortune's gifts; and Niccolo
Who first the spice's costly luxury
Discover'd in that garden, where such seed
Roots deepest in the soil:  and be that troop
Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano
Lavish'd his vineyards and wide-spreading woods,
And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show'd
A spectacle for all.  That thou mayst know
Who seconds thee against the Siennese
Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen'd sight,
That well my face may answer to thy ken;
So shalt thou see I am Capocchio's ghost,
Who forg'd transmuted metals by the power
Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right,
Thus needs must well remember how I aped
Creative nature by my subtle art."
WHAT time resentment burn'd in Juno's breast
For Semele against the Theban blood,
As more than once in dire mischance was rued,
Such fatal frenzy seiz'd on Athamas,
That he his spouse beholding with a babe
Laden on either arm, "Spread out," he cried,
"The meshes, that I take the lioness
And the young lions at the pass:  "then forth
Stretch'd he his merciless talons, grasping one,
One helpless innocent, Learchus nam'd,
Whom swinging down he dash'd upon a rock,
And with her other burden self-destroy'd
The hapless mother plung'd:  and when the pride
Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height,
By fortune overwhelm'd, and the old king
With his realm perish'd, then did Hecuba,
A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw
Polyxena first slaughter'd, and her son,
Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach
Next met the mourner's view, then reft of sense
Did she run barking even as a dog;
Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul.
Bet ne'er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy
With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads
Infixing in the limbs of man or beast,
As now two pale and naked ghost I saw
That gnarling wildly scamper'd, like the swine
Excluded from his stye.  One reach'd Capocchio,
And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs,
Dragg'd him, that o'er the solid pavement rubb'd
His belly stretch'd out prone.  The other shape,
He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake;
"That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood
Of random mischief vent he still his spite."
     To whom I answ'ring:  "Oh!  as thou dost hope,
The other may not flesh its jaws on thee,
Be patient to inform us, who it is,
Ere it speed hence."--" That is the ancient soul
Of wretched Myrrha," he replied, "who burn'd
With most unholy flame for her own sire,
And a false shape assuming, so perform'd
The deed of sin; e'en as the other there,
That onward passes, dar'd to counterfeit
Donati's features, to feign'd testament
The seal affixing, that himself might gain,
For his own share, the lady of the herd."
     When vanish'd the two furious shades, on whom
Mine eye was held, I turn'd it back to view
The other cursed spirits.  One I saw
In fashion like a lute, had but the groin
Been sever'd, where it meets the forked part.
Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs
With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch
Suits not the visage, open'd wide his lips
Gasping as in the hectic man for drought,
One towards the chin, the other upward curl'd.
     "O ye, who in this world of misery,
Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,"
Thus he began, "attentively regard
Adamo's woe.  When living, full supply
Ne'er lack'd me of what most I coveted;
One drop of water now, alas!  I crave.
The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes
Of Casentino, making fresh and soft
The banks whereby they glide to Arno's stream,
Stand ever in my view; and not in vain;
For more the pictur'd semblance dries me up,
Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh
Desert these shrivel'd cheeks.  So from the place,
Where I transgress'd, stern justice urging me,
Takes means to quicken more my lab'ring sighs.
There is Romena, where I falsified
The metal with the Baptist's form imprest,
For which on earth I left my body burnt.
But if I here might see the sorrowing soul
Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother,
For Branda's limpid spring I would not change
The welcome sight.  One is e'en now within,
If truly the mad spirits tell, that round
Are wand'ring.  But wherein besteads me that?
My limbs are fetter'd.  Were I but so light,
That I each hundred years might move one inch,
I had set forth already on this path,
Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew,
Although eleven miles it wind, not more
Than half of one across.  They brought me down
Among this tribe; induc'd by them I stamp'd
The florens with three carats of alloy."
     "Who are that abject pair," I next inquir'd,
"That closely bounding thee upon thy right
Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep'd
In the chill stream?"--"When to this gulf I dropt,"
He answer'd, "here I found them; since that hour
They have not turn'd, nor ever shall, I ween,
Till time hath run his course.  One is that dame
The false accuser of the Hebrew youth;
Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy.
Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out,
In such a cloud upsteam'd."  When that he heard,
One, gall'd perchance to be so darkly nam'd,
With clench'd hand smote him on the braced paunch,
That like a drum resounded:  but forthwith
Adamo smote him on the face, the blow
Returning with his arm, that seem'd as hard.
     "Though my o'erweighty limbs have ta'en from me
The power to move," said he, "I have an arm
At liberty for such employ."  To whom
Was answer'd:  "When thou wentest to the fire,
Thou hadst it not so ready at command,
Then readier when it coin'd th' impostor gold."
     And thus the dropsied:  "Ay, now speak'st thou true.
But there thou gav'st not such true testimony,
When thou wast question'd of the truth, at Troy."
     "If I spake false, thou falsely stamp'dst the coin,"
Said Sinon; "I am here but for one fault,
And thou for more than any imp beside."
     "Remember," he replied, "O perjur'd one,
The horse remember, that did teem with death,
And all the world be witness to thy guilt."
     "To thine," return'd the Greek, "witness the thirst
Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound,
Rear'd by thy belly up before thine eyes,
A mass corrupt."  To whom the coiner thus:
"Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass
Its evil saying.  Me if thirst assails,
Yet I am stuff'd with moisture.  Thou art parch'd,
Pains rack thy head, no urging would'st thou need
To make thee lap Narcissus' mirror up."
     I was all fix'd to listen, when my guide
Admonish'd:  "Now beware:  a little more.
And I do quarrel with thee."  I perceiv'd
How angrily he spake, and towards him turn'd
With shame so poignant, as remember'd yet
Confounds me.  As a man that dreams of harm
Befall'n him, dreaming wishes it a dream,
And that which is, desires as if it were not,
Such then was I, who wanting power to speak
Wish'd to excuse myself, and all the while
Excus'd me, though unweeting that I did.
     "More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,"
My master cried, "might expiate.  Therefore cast
All sorrow from thy soul; and if again
Chance bring thee, where like conference is held,
Think I am ever at thy side.  To hear
Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds."
THE very tongue, whose keen reproof before
Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain'd,
Now minister'd my cure.  So have I heard,
Achilles and his father's javelin caus'd
Pain first, and then the boon of health restor'd.
     Turning our back upon the vale of woe,
W cross'd th' encircled mound in silence.  There
Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom
Mine eye advanc'd not:  but I heard a horn
Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made
The thunder feeble.  Following its course
The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent
On that one spot.  So terrible a blast
Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout
O'erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench'd
His saintly warfare.  Thitherward not long
My head was rais'd, when many lofty towers
Methought I spied.  "Master," said I, "what land
Is this?"  He answer'd straight:  "Too long a space
Of intervening darkness has thine eye
To traverse:  thou hast therefore widely err'd
In thy imagining.  Thither arriv'd
Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude
The sense.  A little therefore urge thee on."
     Then tenderly he caught me by the hand;
"Yet know," said he, "ere farther we advance,
That it less strange may seem, these are not towers,
But giants.  In the pit they stand immers'd,
Each from his navel downward, round the bank."
     As when a fog disperseth gradually,
Our vision traces what the mist involves
Condens'd in air; so piercing through the gross
And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more
We near'd toward the brink, mine error fled,
And fear came o'er me.  As with circling round
Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls,
E'en thus the shore, encompassing th' abyss,
Was turreted with giants, half their length
Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav'n
Yet threatens, when his mutt'ring thunder rolls.
     Of one already I descried the face,
Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge
Great part, and both arms down along his ribs.
     All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand
Left framing of these monsters, did display
Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War
Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she
Repent her not of th' elephant and whale,
Who ponders well confesses her therein
Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force
And evil will are back'd with subtlety,
Resistance none avails.  His visage seem'd
In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops
Saint Peter's Roman fane; and th' other bones
Of like proportion, so that from above
The bank, which girdled him below, such height
Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders
Had striv'n in vain to reach but to his hair.
Full thirty ample palms was he expos'd
Downward from whence a man his garments loops.
"Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,"
So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns
Became not; and my guide address'd him thus:
"O senseless spirit!  let thy horn for thee
Interpret:  therewith vent thy rage, if rage
Or other passion wring thee.  Search thy neck,
There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on.
Wild spirit!  lo, upon thy mighty breast
Where hangs the baldrick!"  Then to me he spake:
"He doth accuse himself.  Nimrod is this,
Through whose ill counsel in the world no more
One tongue prevails.  But pass we on, nor waste
Our words; for so each language is to him,
As his to others, understood by none."
     Then to the leftward turning sped we forth,
And at a sling's throw found another shade
Far fiercer and more huge.  I cannot say
What master hand had girt him; but he held
Behind the right arm fetter'd, and before
The other with a chain, that fasten'd him
From the neck down, and five times round his form
Apparent met the wreathed links.  "This proud one
Would of his strength against almighty Jove
Make trial," said my guide; "whence he is thus
Requited: Ephialtes him they call.
Great was his prowess, when the giants brought
Fear on the gods:  those arms, which then he piled,
Now moves he never."  Forthwith I return'd:
"Fain would I, if 't were possible, mine eyes
Of Briareus immeasurable gain'd
Experience next."  He answer'd: "Thou shalt see
Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks
And is unfetter'd, who shall place us there
Where guilt is at its depth.  Far onward stands
Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made
Like to this spirit, save that in his looks
More fell he seems."  By violent earthquake rock'd
Ne'er shook a tow'r, so reeling to its base,
As Ephialtes.  More than ever then
I dreaded death, nor than the terror more
Had needed, if I had not seen the cords
That held him fast.  We, straightway journeying on,
Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete
Without the head, forth issued from the cave.
     "O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made
Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword
Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight,
Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil
An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought
In the high conflict on thy brethren's side,
Seems as men yet believ'd, that through thine arm
The sons of earth had conquer'd, now vouchsafe
To place us down beneath, where numbing cold
Locks up Cocytus.  Force not that we crave
Or Tityus' help or Typhon's.  Here is one
Can give what in this realm ye covet.  Stoop
Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip.
He in the upper world can yet bestow
Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks
For life yet longer, if before the time
Grace call him not unto herself."  Thus spake
The teacher.  He in haste forth stretch'd his hands,
And caught my guide.  Alcides whilom felt
That grapple straighten'd score.  Soon as my guide
Had felt it, he bespake me thus:  "This way
That I may clasp thee;" then so caught me up,
That we were both one burden.  As appears
The tower of Carisenda, from beneath
Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud
So sail across, that opposite it hangs,
Such then Antaeus seem'd, as at mine ease
I mark'd him stooping.  I were fain at times
T' have pass'd another way.  Yet in th' abyss,
That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs,
I,ightly he plac'd us; nor there leaning stay'd,
But rose as in a bark the stately mast.
COULD I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit
That hole of sorrow, o'er which ev'ry rock
His firm abutment rears, then might the vein
Of fancy rise full springing:  but not mine
Such measures, and with falt'ring awe I touch
The mighty theme; for to describe the depth
Of all the universe, is no emprize
To jest with, and demands a tongue not us'd
To infant babbling.  But let them assist
My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid
Amphion wall'd in Thebes, so with the truth
My speech shall best accord.  Oh ill-starr'd folk,
Beyond all others wretched!  who abide
In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words
To speak of, better had ye here on earth
Been flocks or mountain goats.  As down we stood
In the dark pit beneath the giants' feet,
But lower far than they, and I did gaze
Still on the lofty battlement, a voice
Bespoke me thus:  "Look how thou walkest.  Take
Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads
Of thy poor brethren."  Thereupon I turn'd,
And saw before and underneath my feet
A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem'd
To glass than water.  Not so thick a veil
In winter e'er hath Austrian Danube spread
O'er his still course, nor Tanais far remote
Under the chilling sky.  Roll'd o'er that mass
Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall'n,
Not e'en its rim had creak'd. As peeps the frog
Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams
The village gleaner oft pursues her toil,
So, to where modest shame appears, thus low
Blue pinch'd and shrin'd in ice the spirits stood,
Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.
His face each downward held; their mouth the cold,
Their eyes express'd the dolour of their heart.
     A space I look'd around, then at my feet
Saw two so strictly join'd, that of their head
The very hairs were mingled.  "Tell me ye,
Whose bosoms thus together press," said I,
"Who are ye?"  At that sound their necks they bent,
And when their looks were lifted up to me,
Straightway their eyes, before all moist within,
Distill'd upon their lips, and the frost bound
The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there.
Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos'd up
So stoutly.  Whence like two enraged goats
They clash'd together; them such fury seiz'd.
     And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft,
Exclaim'd, still looking downward: "Why on us
Dost speculate so long?  If thou wouldst know
Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave
Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own
Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves.
They from one body issued; and throughout
Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade
More worthy in congealment to be fix'd,
Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur's land
At that one blow dissever'd, not Focaccia,
No not this spirit, whose o'erjutting head
Obstructs my onward view:  he bore the name
Of Mascheroni:  Tuscan if thou be,
Well knowest who he was:  and to cut short
All further question, in my form behold
What once was Camiccione.  I await
Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt
Shall wash out mine."  A thousand visages
Then mark'd I, which the keen and eager cold
Had shap'd into a doggish grin; whence creeps
A shiv'ring horror o'er me, at the thought
Of those frore shallows.  While we journey'd on
Toward the middle, at whose point unites
All heavy substance, and I trembling went
Through that eternal chillness, I know not
If will it were or destiny, or chance,
But, passing 'midst the heads, my foot did strike
With violent blow against the face of one.
     "Wherefore dost bruise me?" weeping, he exclaim'd,
"Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge
For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?"
     I thus:  "Instructor, now await me here,
That I through him may rid me of my doubt.
Thenceforth what haste thou wilt."  The teacher paus'd,
And to that shade I spake, who bitterly
Still curs'd me in his wrath.  "What art thou, speak,
That railest thus on others?"  He replied:
"Now who art thou, that smiting others' cheeks
Through Antenora roamest, with such force
As were past suff'rance, wert thou living still?"
     "And I am living, to thy joy perchance,"
Was my reply, "if fame be dear to thee,
That with the rest I may thy name enrol."
     "The contrary of what I covet most,"
Said he, "thou tender'st:  hence; nor vex me more.
Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale."
     Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried:
"Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here."
     "Rend all away," he answer'd, "yet for that
I will not tell nor show thee who I am,
Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times."
     Now I had grasp'd his tresses, and stript off
More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes
Drawn in and downward, when another cried,
"What ails thee, Bocca?  Sound not loud enough
Thy chatt'ring teeth, but thou must bark outright?
What devil wrings thee?"--" Now," said I, "be dumb,
Accursed traitor!  to thy shame of thee
True tidings will I bear."--" Off," he replied,
"Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence
To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib,
Forget not:  here he wails the Frenchman's gold.
'Him of Duera,' thou canst say, 'I mark'd,
Where the starv'd sinners pine.'  If thou be ask'd
What other shade was with them, at thy side
Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain'd
The biting axe of Florence.  Farther on,
If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides,
With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him
Who op'd Faenza when the people slept."
     We now had left him, passing on our way,
When I beheld two spirits by the ice
Pent in one hollow, that the head of one
Was cowl unto the other; and as bread
Is raven'd up through hunger, th' uppermost
Did so apply his fangs to th' other's brain,
Where the spine joins it.  Not more furiously
On Menalippus' temples Tydeus gnaw'd,
Than on that skull and on its garbage he.
     "O thou who show'st so beastly sign of hate
'Gainst him thou prey'st on, let me hear," said I
"The cause, on such condition, that if right
Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are,
And what the colour of his sinning was,
I may repay thee in the world above,
If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long."
CANTO XXXIII
HIS jaws uplifting from their fell repast,
That sinner wip'd them on the hairs o' th' head,
Which he behind had mangled, then began:
"Thy will obeying, I call up afresh
Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings
My heart, or ere I tell on't. But if words,
That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear
Fruit of eternal infamy to him,
The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once
Shalt see me speak and weep.  Who thou mayst be
I know not, nor how here below art come:
But Florentine thou seemest of a truth,
When I do hear thee.  Know I was on earth
Count Ugolino, and th' Archbishop he
Ruggieri.  Why I neighbour him so close,
Now list.  That through effect of his ill thoughts
In him my trust reposing, I was ta'en
And after murder'd, need is not I tell.
What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is,
How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear,
And know if he have wrong'd me.  A small grate
Within that mew, which for my sake the name
Of famine bears, where others yet must pine,
Already through its opening sev'ral moons
Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep,
That from the future tore the curtain off.
This one, methought, as master of the sport,
Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps
Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight
Of Lucca to the Pisan.  With lean brachs
Inquisitive and keen, before him rang'd
Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.
After short course the father and the sons
Seem'd tir'd and lagging, and methought I saw
The sharp tusks gore their sides.  When I awoke
Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard
My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask
For bread.  Right cruel art thou, if no pang
Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold;
And if not now, why use thy tears to flow?
Now had they waken'd; and the hour drew near
When they were wont to bring us food; the mind
Of each misgave him through his dream, and I
Heard, at its outlet underneath lock'd up
The' horrible tower:  whence uttering not a word
I look'd upon the visage of my sons.
I wept not:  so all stone I felt within.
They wept:  and one, my little Anslem, cried:
"Thou lookest so!  Father what ails thee?"  Yet
I shed no tear, nor answer'd all that day
Nor the next night, until another sun
Came out upon the world.  When a faint beam
Had to our doleful prison made its way,
And in four countenances I descry'd
The image of my own, on either hand
Through agony I bit, and they who thought
I did it through desire of feeding, rose
O' th' sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieve
Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav'st
These weeds of miserable flesh we wear,
And do thou strip them off from us again.'
Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down
My spirit in stillness.  That day and the next
We all were silent.  Ah, obdurate earth!
Why open'dst not upon us?  When we came
To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet
Outstretch'd did fling him, crying, 'Hast no help
For me, my father!'  "There he died, and e'en
Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three
Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth:
Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope
Over them all, and for three days aloud
Call'd on them who were dead.  Then fasting got
The mastery of grief."  Thus having spoke,
Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth
He fasten'd, like a mastiff's 'gainst the bone
Firm and unyielding.  Oh thou Pisa!  shame
Of all the people, who their dwelling make
In that fair region, where th' Italian voice
Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack
To punish, from their deep foundations rise
Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up
The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee
May perish in the waters!  What if fame
Reported that thy castles were betray'd
By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou
To stretch his children on the rack.  For them,
Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair
Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told,
Their tender years, thou modern Thebes!  did make
Uncapable of guilt.  Onward we pass'd,
Where others skarf'd in rugged folds of ice
Not on their feet were turn'd, but each revers'd
     There very weeping suffers not to weep;
For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds
Impediment, and rolling inward turns
For increase of sharp anguish:  the first tears
Hang cluster'd, and like crystal vizors show,
Under the socket brimming all the cup.
     Now though the cold had from my face dislodg'd
Each feeling, as 't were callous, yet me seem'd
Some breath of wind I felt.  "Whence cometh this,"
Said I, "my master?  Is not here below
All vapour quench'd?"--"'Thou shalt be speedily,"
He answer'd, "where thine eye shall tell thee whence
The cause descrying of this airy shower."
     Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn'd:
"O souls so cruel!  that the farthest post
Hath been assign'd you, from this face remove
The harden'd veil, that I may vent the grief
Impregnate at my heart, some little space
Ere it congeal again!"  I thus replied:
"Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid;
And if I extricate thee not, far down
As to the lowest ice may I descend!"
     "The friar Alberigo," answered he,
"Am I, who from the evil garden pluck'd
Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date
More luscious for my fig."--"Hah!"  I exclaim'd,
"Art thou too dead!"--"How in the world aloft
It fareth with my body," answer'd he,
"I am right ignorant.  Such privilege
Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul
Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc'd.
And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly
The glazed tear-drops that o'erlay mine eyes,
Know that the soul, that moment she betrays,
As I did, yields her body to a fiend
Who after moves and governs it at will,
Till all its time be rounded; headlong she
Falls to this cistern.  And perchance above
Doth yet appear the body of a ghost,
Who here behind me winters.  Him thou know'st,
If thou but newly art arriv'd below.
The years are many that have pass'd away,
Since to this fastness Branca Doria came."
     "Now," answer'd I, "methinks thou mockest me,
For Branca Doria never yet hath died,
But doth all natural functions of a man,
Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on."
     He thus:  "Not yet unto that upper foss
By th' evil talons guarded, where the pitch
Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach'd,
When this one left a demon in his stead
In his own body, and of one his kin,
Who with him treachery wrought.  But now put forth
Thy hand, and ope mine eyes."  I op'd them not.
Ill manners were best courtesy to him.
     Ah Genoese!  men perverse in every way,
With every foulness stain'd, why from the earth
Are ye not cancel'd?  Such an one of yours
I with Romagna's darkest spirit found,
As for his doings even now in soul
Is in Cocytus plung'd, and yet doth seem
In body still alive upon the earth.
"THE banners of Hell's Monarch do come forth
Towards us; therefore look," so spake my guide,
"If thou discern him."  As, when breathes a cloud
Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night
Fall on our hemisphere, seems view'd from far
A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round,
Such was the fabric then methought I saw,
     To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew
Behind my guide:  no covert else was there.
     Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain
Record the marvel) where the souls were all
Whelm'd underneath, transparent, as through glass
Pellucid the frail stem.  Some prone were laid,
Others stood upright, this upon the soles,
That on his head, a third with face to feet
Arch'd like a bow.  When to the point we came,
Whereat my guide was pleas'd that I should see
The creature eminent in beauty once,
He from before me stepp'd and made me pause.
     "Lo!"  he exclaim'd, "lo Dis! and lo the place,
Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength."
     How frozen and how faint I then became,
Ask me not, reader!  for I write it not,
Since words would fail to tell thee of my state.
I was not dead nor living.  Think thyself
If quick conception work in thee at all,
How I did feel.  That emperor, who sways
The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th' ice
Stood forth; and I in stature am more like
A giant, than the giants are in his arms.
Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits
With such a part.  If he were beautiful
As he is hideous now, and yet did dare
To scowl upon his Maker, well from him
May all our mis'ry flow.  Oh what a sight!
How passing strange it seem'd, when I did spy
Upon his head three faces: one in front
Of hue vermilion, th' other two with this
Midway each shoulder join'd and at the crest;
The right 'twixt wan and yellow seem'd:  the left
To look on, such as come from whence old Nile
Stoops to the lowlands.  Under each shot forth
Two mighty wings, enormous as became
A bird so vast.  Sails never such I saw
Outstretch'd on the wide sea.  No plumes had they,
But were in texture like a bat, and these
He flapp'd i' th' air, that from him issued still
Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth
Was frozen.  At six eyes he wept:  the tears
Adown three chins distill'd with bloody foam.
At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ'd
Bruis'd as with pond'rous engine, so that three
Were in this guise tormented.  But far more
Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang'd
By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back
Was stript of all its skin.  "That upper spirit,
Who hath worse punishment," so spake my guide,
"Is Judas, he that hath his head within
And plies the feet without.  Of th' other two,
Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw
Who hangs, is Brutus:  lo!  how he doth writhe
And speaks not!  Th' other Cassius, that appears
So large of limb.  But night now re-ascends,
And it is time for parting.  All is seen."
     I clipp'd him round the neck, for so he bade;
And noting time and place, he, when the wings
Enough were op'd, caught fast the shaggy sides,
And down from pile to pile descending stepp'd
Between the thick fell and the jagged ice.
     Soon as he reach'd the point, whereat the thigh
Upon the swelling of the haunches turns,
My leader there with pain and struggling hard
Turn'd round his head, where his feet stood before,
And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts,
That into hell methought we turn'd again.
     "Expect that by such stairs as these," thus spake
The teacher, panting like a man forespent,
"We must depart from evil so extreme."
Then at a rocky opening issued forth,
And plac'd me on a brink to sit, next join'd
With wary step my side.  I rais'd mine eyes,
Believing that I Lucifer should see
Where he was lately left, but saw him now
With legs held upward.  Let the grosser sort,
Who see not what the point was I had pass'd,
Bethink them if sore toil oppress'd me then.
     "Arise," my master cried, "upon thy feet.
"The way is long, and much uncouth the road;
And now within one hour and half of noon
The sun returns."  It was no palace-hall
Lofty and luminous wherein we stood,
But natural dungeon where ill footing was
And scant supply of light.  "Ere from th' abyss
I sep'rate," thus when risen I began,
"My guide!  vouchsafe few words to set me free
From error's thralldom.  Where is now the ice?
How standeth he in posture thus revers'd?
And how from eve to morn in space so brief
Hath the sun made his transit?"  He in few
Thus answering spake:  "Thou deemest thou art still
On th' other side the centre, where I grasp'd
Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.
Thou wast on th' other side, so long as I
Descended; when I turn'd, thou didst o'erpass
That point, to which from ev'ry part is dragg'd
All heavy substance.  Thou art now arriv'd
Under the hemisphere opposed to that,
Which the great continent doth overspread,
And underneath whose canopy expir'd
The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv'd.
Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere,
Whose other aspect is Judecca.  Morn
Here rises, when there evening sets:  and he,
Whose shaggy pile was scal'd, yet standeth fix'd,
As at the first.  On this part he fell down
From heav'n; and th' earth, here prominent before,
Through fear of him did veil her with the sea,
And to our hemisphere retir'd.  Perchance
To shun him was the vacant space left here
By what of firm land on this side appears,
That sprang aloof."  There is a place beneath,
From Belzebub as distant, as extends
The vaulted tomb, discover'd not by sight,
But by the sound of brooklet, that descends
This way along the hollow of a rock,
Which, as it winds with no precipitous course,
The wave hath eaten.  By that hidden way
My guide and I did enter, to return
To the fair world:  and heedless of repose
We climbed, he first, I following his steps,
Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav'n
Dawn, through a circular opening in the cave:
Thus issuing we again beheld the stars.
NOTES TO HELL
Verse 1.  In the midway.]  That the era of the Poem is intended
by these words to be fixed to the thirty fifth year of the poet's
age, A.D. 1300, will appear more plainly in Canto XXI. where that
date is explicitly marked.
v. 16.  That planet's beam.]  The sun.
v. 29.  The hinder foot.]  It is to be remembered, that in
ascending a hill the weight of the body rests on the hinder foot.
v. 30.  A panther.]  Pleasure or luxury.
v. 36.  With those stars.]  The sun was in Aries, in which sign
he supposes it to have begun its course at the creation.
v. 43.  A lion.]  Pride or ambition.
v. 45.  A she wolf.]  Avarice.
v. 56.  Where the sun in silence rests.]  Hence Milton appears to
have taken his idea in the Samson Agonistes:
        The sun to me is dark
               And silent as the moon, &c
The same metaphor will recur, Canto V. v. 29.
        Into a place I came
       Where light was silent all.
v. 65.  When the power of Julius.] This is explained by the
commentators to mean "Although it was rather late with respect to
my birth before Julius Caesar assumed the supreme authority, and
made himself perpetual dictator."
v. 98.  That greyhound.]  This passage is intended as an eulogium
on the liberal spirit of his Veronese patron Can Grande della
v. 102.  'Twizt either Feltro.]  Verona, the country of Can della
Scala, is situated between Feltro, a city in the Marca
Trivigiana, and Monte Feltro, a city in the territory of Urbino.
v. 103.  Italia's plains.]  "Umile Italia," from Virgil, Aen lib.
        Humilemque videmus
       Italiam.
v. 115.  Content in fire.]  The spirits in Purgatory.
v. 118.  A spirit worthier.]  Beatrice, who conducts the Poet
through Paradise.
v. 130.  Saint Peter's gate.]  The gate of Purgatory, which the
Poet feigns to be guarded by an angel placed on that station by
v. 1.  Now was the day.]  A compendium of Virgil's description
Aen. lib. iv 522.  Nox erat, &c. Compare Apollonius Rhodius, lib
iii. 744, and lib. iv. 1058
v. 8.  O mind.]
        O thought that write all that I met,
        And in the tresorie it set
        Of my braine, now shall men see
        If any virtue in thee be.
               Chaucer.  Temple of Fame, b. ii. v.18
v. 14.  Silvius'sire.] Aeneas.
v. 30.  The chosen vessel.]  St.Paul, Acts, c. ix. v. 15.  "But
the Lord said unto him, Go thy way; for he is a chosen vessel
v. 46.  Thy soul.] L'anima tua e da viltate offesa. So in Berni,
Orl Inn.lib. iii. c. i. st. 53.
        Se l'alma avete offesa da viltate.
v. 64.  Who rest suspended.]  The spirits in Limbo, neither
admitted to a state of glory nor doomed to punishment.
v. 61.  A friend not of my fortune, but myself.]  Se non fortunae
sed hominibus solere esse amicum.  Cornelii Nepotis Attici Vitae,
v. 78.  Whatever is contain'd.]  Every other thing comprised
within the lunar heaven, which, being the lowest of all, has the
smallest circle.
v. 93.  A blessed dame.]  The divine mercy.
v. 97.  Lucia.]  The enlightening grace of heaven.
v. 124.  Three maids.]  The divine mercy, Lucia, and Beatrice.
v. 127.  As florets.]  This simile is well translated by
        But right as floures through the cold of night
        Iclosed, stoupen in her stalkes lowe,
        Redressen hem agen the sunne bright,
        And speden in her kinde course by rowe, &c.
               Troilus and Creseide, b.ii.
It has been imitated by many others, among whom see Berni,
Orl.Inn. Iib. 1. c. xii. st. 86.  Marino, Adone, c. xvii. st. 63.
and Sor. "Donna vestita di nero." and Spenser's Faery Queen, b.4.
c. xii. st. 34. and b. 6 c. ii. st. 35.
v. 5.          Power divine
        Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.]  The three
persons of the blessed Trinity.
v. 9.  all hope abandoned.] Lasciate ogni speranza voi
So Berni, Orl. Inn. lib. i. c. 8. st. 53.
        Lascia pur della vita ogni speranza.
v. 29.  Like to the sand.]
               Unnumber'd as the sands
        Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil
        Levied to side with warring winds, and poise
        Their lighter wings.
               Milton, P. L. ii. 908.
v. 40.  Lest th' accursed tribe.]  Lest the rebellious angels
should exult at seeing those who were neutral and therefore less
guilty, condemned to the same punishment with themselves.
v. 50.  A flag.]
               All the grisly legions that troop
        Under the sooty flag of Acheron
               Milton. Comus.
v. 56.         Who to base fear
        Yielding, abjur'd his high estate.] This is
commonly understood of Celestine the Fifth, who abdicated the
papal power in 1294. Venturi mentions a work written by
Innocenzio Barcellini, of the Celestine order, and printed in
Milan in 1701, In which an attempt is made to put a different
interpretation on this passage.
v. 70.  through the blear light.]
        Lo fioco lume
So Filicaja, canz. vi. st. 12.
        Qual fioco lume.
v. 77.  An old man.]
        Portitor has horrendus aquas et flumina servat
        Terribili squalore Charon, cui plurima mento
        Canities inculta jacet; stant lumina flamma.
               Virg. 7.  Aen. Iib. vi. 2.
v. 82.  In fierce heat and in ice.]
               The delighted spirit
        To bathe in fiery floods or to reside
        In thrilling regions of thick ribbed ice.
               Shakesp. Measure for Measure, a. iii.s.1.
Compare Milton, P. L. b. ii. 600.
v. 92.  The livid lake.] Vada livida.
               Virg. Aen. Iib. vi. 320
               Totius ut Lacus putidaeque paludis
        Lividissima, maximeque est profunda vorago.
               Catullus. xviii. 10.
v. 102.  With eyes of burning coal.]
        His looks were dreadful, and his fiery eyes
        Like two great beacons glared bright and wide.
               Spenser. F.Q. b. vi. c. vii.st. 42
v. 104.  As fall off the light of autumnal leaves.]
        Quam multa in silvis autumul frigore primo
        Lapsa cadunt folia.
               Virg. Aen. lib. vi. 309
Compare Apoll.  Rhod. lib. iv. 214.
v. 8.  A thund'rous sound.]  Imitated, as Mr. Thyer has remarked,
by Milton, P. L. b. viii. 242.
               But long ere our approaching heard
        Noise, other, than the sound of dance or song
        Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage.
v. 50.  a puissant one.]  Our Saviour.
v. 75.                 Honour the bard
        Sublime.]
        Onorate l'altissimo poeta.
So Chiabrera, Canz. Eroiche. 32.
        Onorando l'altissimo poeta.
v. 79.  Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad.]
        She nas to sober ne to glad.
               Chaucer's Dream.
v. 90.  The Monarch of sublimest song.]  Homer.
v. 100.  Fitter left untold.]
        Che'l tacere e bello,
So our Poet, in Canzone 14.
        La vide in parte che'l tacere e bello,
Ruccellai, Le Api, 789.
        Ch'a dire e brutto ed a tacerlo e bello
        "Vie pui bello e il tacerle, che il favellarne."
               Gli. Asol. lib. 1.
v. 117.  Electra.]  The daughter of Atlas, and mother of Dardanus
the founder of Troy.  See Virg. Aen. b. viii. 134. as referred to
by Dante in treatise "De Monarchia," lib. ii. "Electra, scilicet,
nata magni nombris regis Atlantis, ut de ambobus testimonium
reddit poeta noster in octavo ubi Aeneas ad Avandrum sic ait
        "Dardanus Iliacae," &c.
v. 125.  Julia.]  The daughter of Julius Caesar, and wife of
v. 126.  The Soldan fierce.]  Saladin or Salaheddin, the  rival
of  Richard coeur de lion.  See D'Herbelot, Bibl. Orient. and
Knolles's Hist. of the Turks p. 57 to 73 and the Life of Saladin,
by Bohao'edin Ebn Shedad, published by Albert Schultens, with a
Latin translation. He is introduced by Petrarch in the Triumph of
v. 128.  The master of the sapient throng.]
        Maestro di color che sanno.
Aristotle--Petrarch assigns the first place to Plato. See Triumph
of Fame, c. iii.
Pulci, in his Morgante Maggiore, c. xviii. says,
        Tu se'il maestro di color che sanno.
v. 132.               Democritus
        Who sets the world at chance.]
Democritus,who maintained the world to have been formed by the
fortuitous concourse of atoms.
v. 140.  Avicen.]  See D'Herbelot Bibl. Orient. article  Sina. He
died in 1050.  Pulci here again imitates our poet:
        Avicenna quel che il sentimento
        Intese di Aristotile e i segreti,
        Averrois che fece il gran comento.
               Morg. Mag. c. xxv.
v. 140.               Him who made
        That commentary vast, Averroes.]
Averroes, called by the Arabians Roschd, translated and commented
the works of Aristotle. According to Tiraboschi (storia della
Lett. Ital. t. v. 1. ii. c. ii. sect. 4.) he was the source of
modern philosophical impiety. The critic quotes some passages
from Petrarch (Senil. 1. v. ep. iii. et. Oper. v. ii. p. 1143) to
show how strongly such sentiments prevailed in the time of that
poet, by whom they were held in horror and detestation He adds,
that this fanatic admirer of Aristotle translated his writings
with that felicity, which might be expected from one who did not
know a syllable of Greek, and who was therefore compelled to
avail himself of the unfaithful Arabic versions. D'Herbelot, on
the other hand, informs us, that "Averroes was the first who
translated Aristotle from Greek into Arabic, before the Jews had
made their translation:  and that we had for a long time no other
text of Aristotle, except that of the Latin translation, which
was made from this Arabic version of this great philosopher
(Averroes), who afterwards added to it a very ample commentary,
of which Thomas Aquinas, and the other scholastic writers,
availed themselves, before the Greek originals of Aristotle and
his commentators were known to us in Europe." According to
D'Herbelot, he died in 1198: but Tiraboschi places that event
v. 5.  Grinning with ghastly feature.]  Hence Milton:
               Death
        Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile.
               P. L. b. ii. 845.
v. 46.  As cranes.]  This simile is imitated by Lorenzo de
Medici, in his Ambra, a poem, first published by Mr. Roscoe, in
the  Appendix to his Life of Lorenzo.
        Marking the tracts of air, the clamorous cranes
        Wheel their due flight in varied ranks descried:
        And each with outstretch'd neck his rank maintains
        In marshal'd order through th' ethereal void.
               Roscoe, v. i. c. v. p. 257.  4to edit.
Compare Homer.  Il. iii. 3. Virgil. Aeneid. 1 x. 264, and
Ruccellai, Le Api, 942, and Dante's Purgatory, Canto XXIV. 63.
v. 96.  The land.]  Ravenna.
v. 99  Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt.]
        Amor, Ch' al cor gentil ratto s'apprende.
A line taken by Marino, Adone, c. cxli. st. 251.
v. 102.  Love, that denial takes from none belov'd.]
        Amor, ch' a null' amato amar perdona.
So Boccacio, in his Filocopo. l.1.
        Amore mal non perdono l'amore a nullo amato.
And Pulci, in the Morgante Maggiore, c. iv.
        E perche amor mal volontier perdona,
        Che non sia al fin sempre amato chi ama.
Indeed many of the Italian poets have repeated this verse.
v. 105.  Caina.]  The place to which murderers are doomed.
v. 113.  Francesca.]  Francesca, daughter of Guido da Polenta,
lord of Ravenna, was given by her father in marriage to
Lanciotto, son of Malatesta, lord of Rimini, a man of
extraordinary courage, but deformed in his person. His brother
Paolo, who unhappily possessed those graces which the husband of
Francesca wanted, engaged her affections; and being taken in
adultery, they were both put to death by the enraged Lanciotto.
See Notes to Canto XXVII. v. 43
The whole of this passage is alluded to by Petrarch, in his
Triumph of Love c. iii.
        No greater grief than to remember days
        Of joy,xwhen mis'ry is at hand!]
Imitated by Marino:
        Che non ha doglia il misero maggiore
        Che ricordar la giola entro il dolore.
               Adone, c. xiv. st. 100
And by Fortiguerra:
               Rimembrare il ben perduto
        Fa piu meschino lo presente stato.
               Ricciardetto, c. xi. st. 83.
The original perhaps was in Boetius de Consol. Philosoph. "In
omni adversitate fortunae infelicissimum genus est infortunii
fuisse felicem et non esse." 1. 2. pr. 4
v. 124.  Lancelot.] One of the Knights of the Round Table, and
the lover of Ginevra, or Guinever, celebrated in romance.  The
incident alluded to seems to have made a strong impression on the
imagination of Dante, who introduces it again, less happily, in
the Paradise, Canto XVI.
v. 128.  At one point.]
        Questo quel punto fu, che sol mi vinse.
               Tasso, Il Torrismondo, a. i. s. 3.
v. 136.  And like a corpse fell to the ground ]
        E caddi, come corpo morto cade.
        E cadde come morto in terra cade.
Morgante Maggoire, c. xxii
v. 1.  My sense reviving.]
        Al tornar della mente, che si chiuse
        Dinanzi alla pieta de' duo cognati.
Berni has made a sportive application of these lines, in his Orl.
Inn. l. iii. c.  viii. st. 1.
v. 21.  That great worm.]  So in Canto XXXIV Lucifer is called
        Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.
Ariosto has imitated Dante:
        Ch' al gran verme infernal mette la briglia,
        E che di lui come a lei par dispone.
               Orl. Fur. c. xlvi. st. 76.
v. 52.  Ciacco.]  So called from his inordinate appetite: Ciacco,
in Italian, signifying a pig. The real name of this glutton has
not been transmitted to us. He is introduced in Boccaccio's
Decameron, Giorn. ix. Nov. 8.
v. 61.  The divided city.]  The city of Florence, divided into
the Bianchi and Neri factions.
v. 65.  The wild party from the woods.]  So called, because it
was headed by Veri de' Cerchi, whose family had lately come into
the city from Acone, and the woody country of the Val di Nievole.
v. 66.  The other.]  The opposite parts of the Neri, at the head
of which was Corso Donati.
v. 67.  This must fall.] The Bianchi.
v. 69.         Of one, who under shore
        Now rests.]
Charles of Valois, by whose means the Neri were replaced.
v. 73.  The just are two in number.]  Who these two were, the
commentators are not agreed.
v. 79.  Of Farinata and Tegghiaio.]  See Canto X. and Notes, and
Canto XVI, and Notes.
v. 80.  Giacopo.] Giacopo Rusticucci.  See Canto XVI, and Notes.
v. 81.  Arrigo, Mosca.]  Of Arrigo, who is said by the
commentators to have been of the noble family of the Fifanti, no
mention afterwards occurs.  Mosca degli Uberti is introduced in
Canto XXVIII. v.
108.  Consult thy knowledge.]  We are referred to the following
passage in St. Augustin:--"Cum fiet resurrectio carnis, et
bonorum gaudia et malorum tormenta majora erunt. "--At the
resurrection of the flesh, both the happiness of the good and the
torments of the wicked will be increased."
v. 1.  Ah me!  O Satan!  Satan!]  Pape Satan, Pape Satan, aleppe.
Pape is said by the commentators to be the same as the Latin word
papae!  "strange!"  Of aleppe they do not give a more
satisfactory account.
See the Life of Benvenuto Cellini, translated by Dr. Nugent, v.
ii.  b. iii c. vii. p 113, where he mentions "having heard the
words Paix, paix, Satan!  allez, paix!  in the court of justice
at Paris.  I recollected what Dante said, when he with his master
Virgil entered the gates of hell: for Dante, and Giotto the
painter, were together in France, and visited Paris with
particular attention, where the court of justice may be
considered as hell.  Hence it is that Dante, who was likewise
perfect master of the French, made use of that expression, and I
have often been surprised that it was never understood in that
v. 12.  The first adulterer proud.]  Satan.
v. 22.  E'en as a billow.]
        As when two billows in the Irish sowndes
        Forcibly driven with contrarie tides
        Do meet together, each aback rebounds
        With roaring rage, and dashing on all sides,
        That filleth all the sea with foam, divides
        The doubtful current into divers waves.
               Spenser, F.Q. b. iv. c. 1. st. 42.
v. 48.  Popes and cardinals.]  Ariosto, having personified
Avarice as a strange and hideous monster, says of her--
        Peggio facea nella Romana corte
        Che v'avea uccisi Cardinali e Papi.
               Orl. Fur. c. xxvi. st. 32.
        Worse did she in the court of Rome, for there
        She had slain Popes and Cardinals.
v. 91.  By necessity.]  This sentiment called forth the
reprehension of Cecco d'Ascoli, in his Acerba, l. 1. c. i.
               In cio peccasti, O Fiorentin poeta, &c.
        Herein, O bard of Florence, didst thou err
        Laying it down that fortune's largesses
        Are fated to their goal.  Fortune is none,
        That reason cannot conquer. Mark thou, Dante,
        If any argument may gainsay this.
v. 18.  Phlegyas.]  Phlegyas, who was so incensed against Apollo
for having violated his daughter Coronis, that he set fire to the
temple of that deity, by whose vengeance he was cast into
Tartarus. See Virg. Aen. l. vi. 618.
v. 59.  Filippo Argenti.]  Boccaccio tells us, "he was a man
remarkable for the large proportions and extraordinary vigor of
his bodily frame, and the extreme waywardness and irascibility of
his temper." Decam. g. ix. n. 8.
v. 66.  The city, that of Dis is nam'd.]  So Ariosto. Orl. Fur.
c. xl. st. 32
v. 94.  Seven times.]  The commentators, says Venturi, perplex
themselves with the inquiry what seven perils these were from
which Dante had been delivered by Virgil.  Reckoning the beasts
in the first Canto as one of them, and adding Charon, Minos,
Cerberus, Plutus, Phlegyas and Filippo Argenti, as so many
others, we shall have the number, and if this be not
satisfactory, we may suppose a determinate to have been put for
an indeterminate number.
v. 109.  At war 'twixt will and will not.]
        Che si, e no nel capo mi tenzona.
So Boccaccio, Ninf. Fiesol. st. 233.
        Il si e il no nel capo gli contende.
The words I have adopted as a translation, are Shakespeare's,
Measure for Measure.  a. ii.  s.  1.
v. 122.  This their insolence, not new.]  Virgil assures our
poet, that these evil spirits had formerly shown the same
insolence when our Savior descended into hell. They attempted to
prevent him from entering at the gate, over which Dante had read
the fatal inscription.  "That gate which," says the Roman poet,
"an angel has just passed, by whose aid we shall overcome this
opposition, and gain admittance into the city."
v. 1.  The hue.]  Virgil, perceiving that Dante was pale with
fear, restrained those outward tokens of displeasure which his
own countenance had betrayed.
v. 23.  Erictho.]  Erictho, a Thessalian sorceress, according to
Lucan, Pharsal. l. vi. was employed by Sextus, son of Pompey the
Great, to conjure up a spirit, who should inform him of the issue
of the civil wars between his father and Caesar.
v. 25.                No long space my flesh
        Was naked of me.]
        Quae corpus complexa animae tam fortis inane.
               Ovid. Met. l. xiii f. 2
Dante appears to have fallen into a strange anachronism. Virgil's
death did not happen till long after this period.
v. 42.  Adders and cerastes.]
        Vipereum crinem vittis innexa cruentis.
               Virg. Aen. l. vi. 281.
        --spinaque vagi torquente cerastae
               . . . et torrida dipsas
        Et gravis in geminum vergens eaput amphisbaena.
                      Lucan. Pharsal. l. ix. 719.
        Scorpion and asp, and amphisbaena dire,
        Cerastes horn'd, hydrus and elops drear,
        And dipsas.
               P. L. b. x. 524.
v. 67.  A wind.]  Imitated by Berni, Orl. Inn. l. 1. e. ii. st.
v. 83.  With his wand.]
        She with her rod did softly smite the raile
        Which straight flew ope.
               Spenser. F. Q. b. iv. c. iii. st. 46.
v. 96.  What profits at the fays to but the horn.]  "Of what
avail can it be to offer violence to impassive beings?"
v. 97. Your Cerberus.]  Cerberus is feigned to have been dragged
by Hercules, bound with a three fold chain, of which, says the
angel, he still bears the marks.
v. 111.  The plains of Arles.] In Provence.  See Ariosto, Orl.
Fur. c. xxxix. st. 72
v. 112.  At Pola.]  A city of Istria, situated near the gulf of
Quarnaro, in the Adriatic sea.
v. 12.  Josaphat.]  It seems to have been a common opinion among
the Jews, as well as among many Christians, that the general
judgment will be held in the valley of Josaphat, or Jehoshaphat:
"I will also gather all nations, and will bring them down into
the valley of Jehoshaphat, and will plead with them there for my
people, and for my heritage Israel, whom they have scattered
among the nations, and parted my land."  Joel, iii. 2.
v. 32.  Farinata.]  Farinata degli Uberti, a noble Florentine,
was the leader of the Ghibelline faction, when they obtained a
signal victory over the Guelfi at Montaperto, near the river
Arbia.  Macchiavelli calls him "a man of exalted soul, and great
military talents."  Hist. of Flor. b. ii.
v. 52.  A shade.]  The spirit of Cavalcante Cavalcanti, a noble
Florentine, of the Guelph party.
v. 59.  My son.]  Guido, the son of Cavalcante Cavalcanti; "he
whom I call the first of my friends," says Dante in his Vita
Nuova, where the commencement of their friendship is related.
>From the character given of him by contemporary writers his
temper was well formed to assimilate with that of our poet. "He
was," according to G. Villani, l. viii. c. 41. "of a
philosophical and elegant mind, if he had not been too delicate
and fastidious." And Dino Compagni terms him "a young and noble
knight, brave and courteous, but of a lofty scornful spirit, much
addicted to solitude and study." Muratori. Rer. Ital. Script t. 9
l. 1. p. 481.  He died, either in exile at Serrazana, or soon
after his return to Florence, December 1300, during the spring of
which year the action of this poem is supposed to be passing.
v. 62.         Guido thy son
        Had in contempt.]
Guido Cavalcanti, being more given to philosophy than poetry, was
perhaps no great admirer of Virgil. Some poetical compositions by
Guido are, however, still extant; and his reputation for skill in
the art was such as to eclipse that of his predecessor and
namesake Guido Guinicelli, as we shall see in the Purgatory,
Canto XI.  His "Canzone sopra il Terreno Amore" was thought
worthy of being illustrated by numerous and ample commentaries.
Crescimbeni Ist. della Volg. Poes. l. v.
For a playful sonnet which Dante addressed to him, and a spirited
translation of it, see Hayley's Essay on Epic Poetry, Notes to
v. 66.  Saidst thou he had?]  In Aeschylus, the shade of Darius
is represented as inquiring with similar anxiety after the fate
of his son Xerxes.
[GREEK HERE]
Atossa:  Xerxes astonish'd, desolate, alone--
Ghost of Dar:  How will this end?  Nay, pause not.  Is he safe?
               The Persians.  Potter's Translation.
v. 77.  Not yet fifty times.]  "Not fifty months shall be passed,
before thou shalt learn, by woeful experience, the difficulty of
returning from banishment to thy native city"
v.83.  The slaughter.]  "By means of Farinata degli Uberti, the
Guelfi were conquered by the army of King Manfredi, near the
river Arbia, with so great a slaughter, that those who escaped
from that defeat took refuge not in Florence, which city they
considered as lost to them, but in Lucca."  Macchiavelli. Hist.
of Flor. b 2.
v. 86.  Such orisons.]  This appears to allude to certain prayers
which were offered up in the churches of Florence, for
deliverance from the hostile attempts of the Uberti.
v. 90.  Singly there I stood.]  Guido Novello assembled a council
of the Ghibellini at Empoli where it was agreed by all, that, in
order to maintain the ascendancy of the Ghibelline party in
Tuscany, it was necessary to destroy Florence, which could serve
only (the people of that city beingvGuelfi) to enable the party
attached to the church to recover its strength.  This cruel
sentence, passed upon so noble a city, met with no opposition
from any of its citizens or friends, except Farinata degli
Uberti, who openly and without reserve forbade the measure,
affirming that he had endured so many hardships, and encountered
so many dangers, with no other view than that of being able to
pass his days in his own country. Macchiavelli. Hist. of Flor. b.
v. 103.  My fault.]  Dante felt remorse for not having returned
an immediate answer to the inquiry of Cavalcante, from which
delay he was led to believe that his son Guido was no longer
v. 120.  Frederick.]  The Emperor Frederick the Second, who died
in 1250. See Notes to Canto XIII.
v. 121.  The Lord Cardinal.]  Ottaviano Ubaldini, a Florentine,
made Cardinal in 1245, and deceased about 1273.  On account of
his great influence, he was generally known by the appellation of
"the Cardinal."  It is reported of him that he declared, if there
were any such thing as a human soul, he had lost his for the
v. 132.  Her gracious beam.]  Beatrice.
v. 9.  Pope Anastasius.]  The commentators are not agreed
concerning the identity of the person, who is here mentioned as a
follower of the heretical Photinus.  By some he is supposed to
have been Anastasius the Second, by others, the Fourth of that
name; while a third set, jealous of the integrity of the papal
faith, contend that our poet has confounded him with Anastasius
1. Emperor of the East.
v. 17.  My son.]  The remainder of the present Canto may be
considered as a syllabus of the whole of this part of the poem.
v. 48.  And sorrows.]  This fine moral, that not to enjoy our
being is to be ungrateful to the Author of it, is well expressed
in Spenser, F. Q. b. iv. c. viii. st. 15.
        For he whose daies in wilful woe are worne
        The grace of his Creator doth despise,
        That will not use his gifts for thankless
v. 53.  Cahors.]  A city in Guienne, much frequented by usurers
v. 83.  Thy ethic page.]  He refers to Aristotle's Ethics.
[GREEK HERE]
"In the next place, entering, on another division of the subject,
let it be defined. that respecting morals there are three sorts
of things to be avoided, malice, incontinence, and brutishness."
v. 104.  Her laws.]  Aristotle's Physics.  [GREEK
HERE]  "Art imitates nature." --See the Coltivazione of Alamanni,
        -I'arte umana, &c.
v. 111.  Creation's holy book.]  Genesis, c. iii. v. 19. "In the
sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread."
v. 119.  The wain.] The constellation Bootes, or Charles's wain.
v. 17.  The king of Athens.]  Theseus, who was enabled, by the
instructions of Ariadne, the sister of the Minotaur, to destroy
that monster.
v. 21.  Like to a bull.]  [GREEK HERE] Homer Il. xvii 522
        As when some vig'rous youth with sharpen'd axe
        A pastur'd bullock smites behind the horns
        And hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke
        Springs forth and falls.
               Cowper's Translation.
v. 36.  He arriv'd.]  Our Saviour, who, according to Dante, when
he ascended from hell, carried with him the souls of the
patriarchs, and other just men, out of the first circle. See
v. 96.  Nessus.]  Our poet was probably induced, by the following
line in Ovid, to assign to Nessus the task of conducting them
over the ford:
        Nessus edit membrisque valens scitusque vadorum.
        Metam, l. ix.
And Ovid's authority was Sophocles, who says of this Centaur--
[GREEK HERE] Trach.570
        He in his arms, Evenus' stream
        Deep flowing, bore the passenger for hire
        Without or sail or billow cleaving oar.
v. 110.  Ezzolino.]  Ezzolino, or Azzolino di Romano, a most
cruel tyrant in the Marca Trivigiana, Lord of Padua, Vicenza,
Verona, and Brescia, who died in 1260.  His atrocities form the
subject of a Latin tragedy, called Eccerinis, by Albertino
Mussato, of Padua, the contemporary of Dante, and the most
elegant writer of Latin verse of that age.  See also the
Paradise, Canto IX. Berni Orl. Inn. l ii c. xxv. st. 50. Ariosto.
Orl. Fur. c. iii. st. 33. and Tassoni Secchia Rapita, c. viii.
v. 111.  Obizzo' of Este.]  Marquis of Ferrara and of the Marca
d'Ancona, was murdered by his own son (whom, for the most
unnatural act Dante calls his step-son), for the sake of the
treasures which his rapacity had amassed. See Ariosto. Orl. Fur.
c. iii. st 32.  He died in 1293 according to Gibbon.  Ant. of the
House of Brunswick. Posth. Works, v. ii. 4to.
v. 119.  He.]  "Henrie, the brother of this Edmund, and son to
the foresaid king of Almaine (Richard, brother of Henry III. of
England) as he returned from Affrike, where he had been with
Prince Edward, was slain at Viterbo in Italy (whither he was come
about business which he had to do with the Pope) by the hand of
Guy de Montfort, the son of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester,
in revenge of the same Simon's death.  The murther was committed
afore the high altar, as the same Henrie kneeled there to hear
divine service." A.D. 1272, Holinshed's chronicles p 275.  See
also Giov. Villani Hist. I. vii. c. 40.
v. 135.  On Sextus and on Pyrrhus.]  Sextus either the son of
Tarquin the Proud, or of Pompey the Great:  or as Vellutelli
conjectures, Sextus Claudius Nero, and Pyrrhus king of Epirus.
               The Rinieri, of Corneto this,
        Pazzo the other named.]
Two noted marauders, by whose depredations the public ways in
Italy were infested.  The latter was of the noble family of Pazzi
in Florence.
v. 10.  Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream.]  A wild and woody
tract of country, abounding in deer, goats, and wild boars.
Cecina is a river not far to the south of Leghorn, Corneto, a
small city on the same coast in the patrimony of the church.
v. 12.  The Strophades.]  See Virg. Aen. l. iii. 210.
v. 14.  Broad are their pennons.]  From Virg. Aen. l. iii. 216.
v. 48.  In my verse described.]  The commentators explain this,
"If he could have believed, in consequence of my assurances
alone, that of which he hath now had ocular proof, he would not
have stretched forth his hand against thee."  But I am of opinion
that Dante makes Virgil allude to his own story of Polydorus in
the third book of the Aeneid.
v. 56.  That pleasant word of thine.]  "Since you have inveigled
me to speak my holding forth so gratifying an expectation, let it
not displease you if I am as it were detained in the snare you
have spread for me, so as to be somewhat prolix in my answer."
v. 60. I it was.]  Pietro delle Vigne, a native of Capua, who,
from a low condition, raised himself by his eloquence and legal
knowledge to the office of Chancellor to the Emperor Frederick
II. whose confidence in him was such, that his influence in the
empire became unbounded.  The courtiers, envious of his exalted
situation, contrived, by means of forged letters, to make
Frederick believe that he held a secret and traitorous
intercourse with the Pope, who was then at enmity with the
Emperor.  In consequence of this supposed crime he was cruelly
condemned by his too credulous sovereign to lose his eyes, and,
being driven to despair by his unmerited calamity and disgrace,
he put an end to his life by dashing out his brains against the
walls of a church, in the year 1245.  Both Frederick and Pietro
delle Vigne composed verses in the Sicilian dialect which are yet
v. 67.  The harlot.]  Envy.  Chaucer alludes to this in the
Prologue to the Legende of Good women.
        Envie is lavender to the court alway,
        For she ne parteth neither night ne day
        Out of the house of Cesar; thus saith Dant.
v. 119.  Each fan o' th' wood.]  Hence perhaps Milton:
        Leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan.
               P. L. b. v. 6.
v. 122.  Lano.]  Lano, a Siennese, who, being reduced by
prodigality to a state of extreme want, found his existence no
longer supportable; and, having been sent by his countrymen on a
military expedition, to assist the Florentine against the
Aretini, took that opportunity of exposing himself to certain
death, in the engagement which took place at Toppo near Arezzo.
See G. Villani, Hist. l. 7. c. cxix.
v. 133.               O Giocomo
        Of Sant' Andrea!]
Jacopo da Sant' Andrea, a Paduan, who, having wasted his property
in the most wanton acts of profusion, killed himself in despair.
v. 144.  In that City.]  "I was an inhabitant of Florence, that
city which changed her first patron Mars for St. John the
Baptist, for which reason the vengeance of the deity thus
slighted will never be appeased:  and, if some remains of his
status were not still visible on the bridge over the Arno, she
would have been already leveled to the ground; and thus the
citizens, who raised her again from the ashes to which Attila had
reduced her, would have laboured in vain."  See Paradise, Canto
The relic of antiquity to which the superstition of Florence
attached so high an importance, was carried away by a flood, that
destroyed the bridge on which it stood, in the year 1337, but
without the ill effects that were apprehended from the loss of
their fancied Palladium.
v. 152.  I slung the fatal noose.]  We are not informed who this
suicide was.
v. 15.  By Cato's foot.]  See Lucan, Phars, l. 9.
v. 26. Dilated flakes of fire.]  Compare Tasso.  G. L. c. x. st.
v. 28.  As, in the torrid Indian clime.]  Landino refers to
Albertus Magnus for the circumstance here alluded to.
v. 53.  In Mongibello.]
        More hot than Aetn' or flaming Mongibell.
               Spenser, F. Q. b. ii. c. ix. st. 29.
See Virg. Aen. 1. viii. 416. and Berni. Orl. Inn 1. i. c. xvi.
st. 21.  It would be endless to refer to parallel passages in the
Greek writers.
v. 64.  This of the seven kings was one.]  Compare Aesch.  Seven
Chiefs, 425.  Euripides, Phoen. 1179 and Statius. Theb. l. x.
v. 76.  Bulicame.]  A warm medicinal spring near Viterbo, the
waters of which, as Landino and Vellutelli affirm, passed by a
place of ill fame.  Venturi, with less probability, conjectures
that Dante would imply, that it was the scene of much licentious
merriment among those who frequented its baths.
v. 91.  Under whose monarch.]
        Credo pudicitiam Saturno rege moratam
        In terris.
               Juv. Satir. vi.
v. 102.  His head.]  Daniel, ch. ii. 32, 33.
v. 133.  Whither.] On the other side of Purgatory.
 v. 10.  Chiarentana.]  A part of the Alps where the Brenta
rises, which river is much swoln as soon as the snow begins to
dissolve on the mountains.
v. 28.  Brunetto.]  "Ser Brunetto, a Florentine, the secretary or
chancellor of the city, and Dante's preceptor, hath left us a
work so little read, that both the subject of it and the language
of it have been mistaken.  It is in the French spoken in the
reign of St. Louis,under the title of Tresor, and contains a
species of philosophical course of lectures divided into theory
and practice, or, as he expresses it, "un enchaussement des
choses divines et humaines," &c.  Sir R. Clayton's Translation of
Tenhove's Memoirs of the  Medici, vol. i.  ch.  ii.  p. 104.  The
Tresor has never been printed in the original language.  There is
a fine manuscript of it in the British Museum, with an
illuminated portrait of Brunetto in his  study prefixed.  Mus.
Brit. MSS. 17, E. 1. Tesor.  It is divided into four books, the
first, on Cosmogony and Theology, the second, a translation of
Aristotle's Ethics; the third on Virtues and Vices; the fourth,
on Rhetoric.  For an interesting memoir relating to this work,
see Hist. de l'Acad. des Inscriptions, tom. vii. 296.  His
Tesoretto, one of the earliest productions of Italian poetry, is
a curious work, not unlike the writings of Chaucer in style and
numbers, though Bembo remarks, that his pupil, however largely he
had stolen from it, could not have much enriched himself.  As it
is perhaps but little known, I will here add a slight sketch of
Brunetto describes himself as returning from an embassy to the
King of Spain, on which he had been sent by the Guelph party from
Florence.  On the plain of Roncesvalles he meets a scholar on a
bay mule, who tells him that the Guelfi are driven out of the
city with great loss.
Struck with grief at these mournful tidings, and musing with his
head bent downwards, he loses his road, and wanders into a wood.
Here Nature, whose figure is described with sublimity, appears,
and  discloses to him the secrets of her operations.  After this
he wanders into a desert; but at length proceeds on his way,
under the protection of a banner, with which Nature had furnished
him, till on the third day he finds himself in a large pleasant
champaign, where are assembled many emperors, kings, and sages.
It is the habitation of Virtue and her daughters, the four
Cardinal Virtues.  Here Brunetto sees also Courtesy, Bounty,
Loyalty, and Prowess, and hears the instructions they give to a
knight, which occupy about a fourth part of the poem.  Leaving
this territory, he passes over valleys, mountains, woods,
forests, and bridges, till he arrives in a beautiful valley
covered with flowers on all sides, and the richest in the world;
but which was continually  shifting its appearance from a round
figure to a square, from obscurity to light, and from
populousness to solitude.  This is the region of Pleasure, or
Cupid, who is accompanied by four ladies, Love, Hope, Fear, and
Desire.  In one part of it he meets with Ovid, and is instructed
by him how to conquer the passion of love, and to escape from
that place.  After his escape he makes his confession to a friar,
and then returns to the forest of visions:  and ascending a
mountain, he meets with Ptolemy, a venerable old man.  Here the
narrative breaks off. The  poem ends, as it began, with an
address to Rustico di Filippo, on whom he lavishes every sort of
It has been observed, that Dante derived the idea of opening his
poem by describing himself as lost in a wood, from the Tesoretto
of his master.  I know not whether it has been remarked, that the
crime of usury is branded by both these poets as offensive to God
and Nature:  or that the sin for which Brunetto is condemned by
his pupil, is mentioned in the Tesoretto with great horror.
Dante's twenty-fifth sonnet is a jocose one, addressed to
Brunetto.  He died in 1295.
v. 62.  Who in old times came down from Fesole.]  See G. Villani
Hist. l. iv. c. 5. and Macchiavelli Hist. of Flor. b. ii.
v. 89.  With another text.]  He refers to the prediction of
Farinata, in Canto X.
v. 110.  Priscian.]  There is no reason to believe, as the
commentators observe that the grammarian of this name was stained
with the vice imputed to him; and we must therefore suppose that
Dante puts the individual for the species, and implies the
frequency of the crime among those who abused the opportunities
which the education of youth afforded them, to so abominable a
v. 111.  Francesco.]  Son of Accorso, a Florentine, celebrated
for his skill in jurisprudence, and commonly known by the name of
v. 113.  Him.]  Andrea de' Mozzi, who, that his scandalous life
might be less exposed to observation, was translated either by
Nicholas III, or Boniface VIII from the see of Florence to that
of Vicenza, through which passes the river Baccchiglione.  At the
latter of these places he died.
v. 114.  The servants' servant.]  Servo de' servi.  So Ariosto,
               Degli servi
        Io sia il gran servo.
v. 124.  I commend my Treasure to thee.]  Brunetto's great work,
Sieti raccomandato 'l mio Tesoro.
So Giusto de' Conti, in his Bella Mano, Son.  "Occhi:"
        Siavi raccommandato il mio Tesoro.
v. 38.  Gualdrada.]  Gualdrada was the daughter of Bellincione
Berti, of whom mention is made in the Paradise, Canto XV, and
XVI.  He was of the family of Ravignani, a branch of the Adimari.
The Emperor Otho IV. being at a festival in Florence, where
Gualdrada was present, was struck with her beauty; and inquiring
who she was, was answered by Bellincione, that she was the
daughter of one who, if it was his Majesty's pleasure, would make
her admit the honour of his salute.  On overhearing this, she
arose from her seat, and blushing, in an animated tone of voice,
desired her father that he would not be so liberal in his offers,
for that no man should ever be allowed that freedom, except him
who should be her lawful husband.  The Emperor was not less
delighted by her resolute modesty than he had before been by the
loveliness of her person, and calling to him Guido, one of his
barons, gave her to him in marriage, at the same time raising him
to the rank of a count, and bestowing on her the whole of
Casentino, and a part of the territory of Romagna, as her
portion.  Two sons were the offspring of this union, Guglielmo
and Ruggieri, the latter of whom was father of Guidoguerra, a man
of great military skill and prowess who, at the head of four
hundred Florentines of the Guelph party, was signally
instrumental to the victory obtained at Benevento by Charles of
Anjou, over Manfredi, King of Naples, in 1265.   One of the
consequences of this victory was the expulsion of the Ghibellini,
and the re-establishment of the Guelfi at Florence.
v. 39.  Many a noble act.]  Compare Tasso, G. L. c. i. st. 1.
v. 42.  Aldobrandiu]  Tegghiaio Aldobrandi was of the noble
family of Adimari, and much esteemed for his military talents.
He endeavored to dissuade the Florentines from the attack, which
they meditated against the Siennese, and the rejection of his
counsel occasioned the memorable defeat, which the former
sustained at Montaperto, and the consequent banishment of the
Guelfi from Florence.
v. 45.  Rusticucci.]  Giacopo Rusticucci, a Florentine,
remarkable for his opulence and the generosity of his spirit.
v. 70.  Borsiere.]  Guglielmo Borsiere, another Florentine, whom
Boccaccio, in a story which he relates of him, terms "a man of
courteous and elegant manners, and of great readiness in
conversation."  Dec. Giorn. i. Nov. 8.
v. 84.  When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past.]
        Quando ti giovera dicere io fui.
So Tasso, G. L. c. xv. st. 38.
        Quando mi giovera narrar altrui
        Le novita vedute, e dire; io fui.
v. 121.  Ever to that truth.]  This memorable apophthegm is
repeated by Luigi Pulci and Trissino.
        Sempre a quel ver, ch' ha faccia di menzogna
        E piu senno tacer la lingua cheta
        Che spesso senza colpa fa vergogna.
               Morgante. Magg.  c. xxiv.
               La verita, che par mensogna
        Si dovrebbe tacer dall' uom ch'e saggio.
               Italia. Lib. C. xvi.
v. 1.  The fell monster.]  Fraud.
v. 53.  A pouch.]  A purse, whereon the armorial bearings of each
were emblazoned.  According to Landino, our poet implies that the
usurer can pretend to no other honour, than such as he derives
from his purse and his family.
v. 57.  A yellow purse.]  The arms of the Gianfigliazzi of
v. 60.  Another.]  Those of the Ubbriachi, another Florentine
family of high distinction.
v. 62.  A fat and azure swine.]  The arms of the Scrovigni a
noble family of Padua.
v. 66.  Vitaliano.]  Vitaliano del Dente, a Paduan.
v. 69.  That noble knight.]  Giovanni Bujamonti, a Florentine
usurer, the most infamous of his time.
v. 28.  With us beyond.]  Beyond the middle point they tended the
same way with us, but their pace was quicker than ours.
v. 29.  E'en thus the Romans.]  In the year 1300, Pope Boniface
VIII., to remedy the inconvenience occasioned by the press of
people who were passing over the bridge of St. Angelo during the
time of the Jubilee, caused it to be divided length wise by a
partition, and ordered, that all those who were going to St.
Peter's should keep one side, and those returning the other.
v. 50.  Venedico.]  Venedico Caccianimico, a Bolognese, who
prevailed on his sister Ghisola to prostitute herself to Obizzo
da  Este, Marquis of Ferrara, whom we have seen among the
tyrants, Canto XII.
v. 62.  To answer Sipa.]  He denotes Bologna by its situation
between the rivers Savena to the east, and Reno to the west of
that city; and by a peculiarity of dialect, the use of the
affirmative sipa instead of si.
v. 90.  Hypsipyle.]  See Appolonius Rhodius, l. i. and Valerius
Flaccus l.ii.  Hypsipyle deceived the other women by concealing
her father Thoas, when they had agreed to put all their males to
v. 120.  Alessio.]  Alessio, of an ancient and considerable
family in Lucca, called the Interminei.
v. 130.  Thais.]  He alludes to that passage in the Eunuchus of
Terence where Thraso asks if Thais was obliged to him for the
present he had sent her, and Gnatho replies, that she had
expressed her obligation in the most forcible terms.
        T.  Magnas vero agere gratias Thais mihi?
        G.  Ingentes.
               Eun. a. iii. s. i.
v. 18.  Saint John's fair dome.]  The apertures in the  rock were
of the same dimensions as the fonts of St. John the Baptist at
Florence, one of which, Dante says he had broken, to rescue a
child  that was playing near and fell in. He intimates that the
motive of his  breaking the font had been maliciously represented
by his enemies.
v. 55.  O Boniface!]  The spirit mistakes Dante for  Boniface
VIII. who was then alive, and who he did not expect would have
arrived so soon, in consequence, as it should seem, of a
prophecy, which  predicted the death of that Pope at a later
period. Boniface died in  1303.
v. 58.  In guile.]  "Thou didst presume to arrive by fraudulent
means at the papal power, and afterwards to abuse it."
v. 71.  In the mighty mantle I was rob'd.]  Nicholas III, of the
Orsini family, whom the poet therefore calls "figliuol dell'
orsa," "son of the she-bear."  He died in 1281.
v. 86.  From forth the west, a shepherd without law.]   Bertrand
de Got Archbishop of Bordeaux, who succeeded to the pontificate
in 1305, and assumed the title of Clement V. He transferred the
holy  see to Avignon in 1308 (where it remained till 1376), and
died in 1314.
v. 88.  A new Jason.]  See Maccabees, b. ii. c. iv. 7,8.
v. 97.  Nor Peter.]  Acts of the Apostles, c.i. 26.
v. 100.  The condemned soul.]  Judas.
v. 103.  Against Charles.]  Nicholas III. was enraged against
Charles I, King of Sicily, because he rejected with scorn a
proposition made by that Pope for an alliance between their
families.  See G. Villani, Hist. l. vii. c. liv.
v. 109.  Th' Evangelist.]  Rev. c. xvii. 1, 2, 3.  Compare
Petrarch.  Opera fol. ed. Basil. 1551. Epist. sine titulo liber.
ep. xvi. p. 729.
v. 118.  Ah, Constantine.]  He alludes to the pretended gift of
the Lateran by Constantine to Silvester, of which Dante himself
seems to imply a doubt, in his treatise "De Monarchia." - "Ergo
scindere Imperium, Imperatori non licet.  Si ergo aliquae,
dignitates per Constantinum essent alienatae, (ut dicunt) ab
Imperio," &c. l. iii.
The gift is by Ariosto very humorously placed in the moon, among
the things lost or abused on earth.
        Di varj fiori, &c.
               O. F. c. xxxiv. st. 80.
Milton has translated both this passage and that in the text.
Prose works, vol. i. p. 11. ed. 1753.
v. 11.  Revers'd.]  Compare Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. viii.  st. 31
v. 30.  Before whose eyes.]  Amphiaraus, one of the seven kings
who besieged Thebes.  He is said to have been swallowed up by  an
opening of the earth.  See Lidgate's Storie of Thebes, Part III
where it is told how the "Bishop Amphiaraus" fell down to hell.
        And thus the devill for his outrages,
        Like his desert payed him his wages.
A different reason for his being doomed thus to perish is
assigned by Pindar.
[GREEK HERE]
               Nem ix.
        For thee, Amphiaraus, earth,
        By Jove's all-riving thunder cleft
        Her mighty bosom open'd wide,
        Thee and thy plunging steeds to hide,
        Or ever on thy back the spear
        Of Periclymenus impress'd
        A wound to shame thy warlike breast
        For struck with panic fear
        The gods' own children flee.
v. 37.  Tiresias.]
        Duo magnorum viridi coeuntia sylva
        Corpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictu, &c.
               Ovid. Met. iii.
v. 43.  Aruns.]  Aruns is said to have dwelt in the  mountains of
Luni (from whence that territory is still called Lunigiana),
above Carrara, celebrated for its marble.  Lucan. Phars. l. i.
575.  So Boccaccio in the Fiammetta, l. iii.  "Quale Arunte," &c.
"Like Aruns, who amidst the white marbles of Luni, contemplated
the celestial bodies and their motions."
v. 50.  Manto.]  The daughter of Tiresias of Thebes, a city
dedicated to Bacchus.  From Manto Mantua, the country of Virgil
derives its name. The Poet proceeds to describe the situation of
v. 61.  Between the vale.]  The lake Benacus, now called  the
Lago di Garda, though here said to lie between Garda, Val
Camonica, and the Apennine, is, however, very distant from the
v. 63.  There is a spot.]  Prato di Fame, where the dioceses of
Trento, Verona, and Brescia met.
v. 69.  Peschiera.]  A garrison situated to the south of the
lake, where it empties itself and forms the Mincius.
v. 94.  Casalodi's madness.]  Alberto da Casalodi, who had got
possession of Mantua, was persuaded by Pinamonte Buonacossi, that
he might ingratiate himself with the people by banishing to their
own castles the nobles, who were obnoxious to them.  No sooner
was this done, than Pinamonte put himself at the head of the
populace, drove out Casalodi and his adherents, and obtained the
sovereignty for himself.
v. 111.  So sings my tragic strain.]
        Suspensi Eurypilum scitatum oracula Phoebi
        Mittimus.
               Virg. Aeneid. ii. 14.
v. 115.  Michael Scot.]  Sir Michael Scott, of Balwearie,
astrologer to the Emperor Frederick II. lived in the thirteenth
century.  For further particulars relating to this singular man,
see Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. i. diss. ii. and
sect. ix.  p 292, and the Notes to Mr. Scott's "Lay of the Last
Minstrel," a  poem in which a happy use is made of the traditions
that are still current in North Britain concerning him.  He is
mentioned by G. Villani. Hist. l. x. c. cv. and cxli. and l. xii.
c. xviii. and by Boccaccio, Dec. Giorn. viii. Nov. 9.
v. 116.  Guido Bonatti.]  An astrologer of Forli, on whose  skill
Guido da Montefeltro, lord of that place, so much relied, that he
is reported never to have gone into battle, except in the hour
recommended to him as fortunate by Bonatti.
Landino and Vellutello, speak of a book, which he composed on the
subject of his art.
v. 116.  Asdente.]  A shoemaker at Parma, who deserted his
business to practice the arts of divination.
v. 123.  Cain with fork of thorns.]  By Cain and the thorns, or
what is still vulgarly called the Man in the Moon, the Poet
denotes that luminary.  The same superstition is alluded to in
the Paradise, Canto II. 52.  The curious reader may consult Brand
on Popular Antiquities, 4to.  1813. vol. ii. p. 476.
v. 7.  In the Venetians' arsenal.]  Compare Ruccellai, Le  Api,
165, and Dryden's Annus Mirabilis, st. 146, &c.
v. 37.  One of Santa Zita's elders.]  The elders or chief
magistrates of Lucca, where Santa Zita was held in especial
veneration.  The name of this sinner is supposed to have been
Martino Botaio.
v. 40.  Except Bonturo, barterers.]  This is said ironically of
Bonturo de' Dati.  By barterers are meant peculators, of every
description; all who traffic the interests of the public  for
their own private advantage.
v. 48.  Is other swimming than in Serchio's wave.]
        Qui si nuota altrimenti che nel Serchio.
Serchio is the river that flows by Lucca.  So Pulci, Morg. Mag.
        Qui si nuota nel sangue, e non nel Serchio.
v. 92.  From Caprona.]  The surrender of the castle of Caprona to
the combined forces of Florence and Lucca, on condition that the
garrison should march out in safety, to which event Dante was a
witness, took place in 1290.  See G. Villani, Hist. l. vii. c.
v. 109.  Yesterday.]  This passage fixes the era of Dante's
descent at Good Friday, in the year 1300 (34 years from our
blessed  Lord's incarnation being added to 1266), and at the
thirty-fifth  year of our poet's age. See Canto I. v. 1.
The awful event alluded to, the Evangelists inform us, happened
"at the ninth hour," that is, our sixth, when "the rocks  were
rent," and the convulsion, according to Dante, was felt even in
the depths in Hell.  See Canto XII. 38.
v. 16.  In the church.]  This proverb is repeated by Pulci, Morg.
Magg. c. xvii.
v. 47.  Born in Navarre's domain.]  The name of this peculator is
said to have been Ciampolo.
v. 51.  The good king Thibault.]  "Thibault I. king of Navarre,
died on the 8th of June, 1233, as much to be commended for the
desire he showed of aiding the war in the Holy Land, as
reprehensible and faulty for his design of oppressing the rights
and privileges of the church, on which account it is said that
the whole kingdom was under an interdict for the space of three
entire years.  Thibault undoubtedly merits praise, as for his
other endowments, so especially for his cultivation of the
liberal arts, his exercise and knowledge of music and poetry in
which he much excelled, that he was accustomed to compose verses
and sing them to the viol, and to exhibit his poetical
compositions publicly in his palace, that they might be
criticized by all."  Mariana, History of Spain, b. xiii.  c. 9.
An account of Thibault, and two of his songs, with what were
probably the original melodies, may be seen in Dr. Burney's
History of Music, v. ii. c. iv.  His poems, which are in the
French language, were edited by M. l'Eveque de la Ravalliere.
Paris.  1742. 2 vol. 12mo.  Dante twice quotes one of his verses
in the Treatise de Vulg. Eloq. l. i. c. ix. and l. ii. c. v. and
refers to him again, l. ii. c. vi.
From "the good king Thibault" are descended the good, but more
unfortunate monarch, Louis XVI. of France, and consequently the
present legitimate sovereign of that realm.  See Henault, Abrege
Chron. 1252, 2, 4.
v. 80.  The friar Gomita.]  He was entrusted by Nino de' Visconti
with the government of Gallura, one of the four jurisdictions
into which Sardinia was divided.  Having his master's enemies in
his power, he took a bribe from them, and allowed them to escape.
Mention of Nino will recur in the Notes to Canto XXXIII. and in
the Purgatory, Canto VIII.
v. 88.  Michel Zanche.]  The president of Logodoro, another of
the four Sardinian jurisdictions.  See Canto XXXIII.
v. 5.  Aesop's fable.]  The fable of the frog, who offered to
carry the mouse across a ditch, with the intention of drowning
him  when both were carried off by a kite.  It is not among those
Greek Fables  which go under the name of Aesop.
v. 63.  Monks in Cologne.]  They wore their cowls unusually
v. 66.  Frederick's.]  The Emperor Frederick II. is said to have
punished those who were guilty of high treason, by wrapping them
up in lead, and casting them into a furnace.
v. 101.  Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue.]  It is
observed by Venturi, that the word "rance" does not here signify
"rancid or disgustful," as it is explained by the old
commentators, but "orange-coloured," in which sense it occurs in
the  Purgatory, Canto II. 9.
v. 104.  Joyous friars.]  "Those who ruled the city of Florence
on the part of the Ghibillines, perceiving this discontent and
murmuring, which they were fearful might produce a rebellion
against themselves, in order to satisfy the people, made choice
of two knights, Frati Godenti (joyous friars) of Bologna, on whom
they  conferred the chief power in Florence.  One named M.
Catalano de'  Malavolti, the other M. Loderingo di Liandolo; one
an adherent of the Guelph, the other of the Ghibelline party.  It
is to be remarked, that the Joyous Friars were called Knights of
St. Mary, and became knights on taking that habit:  their robes
were white, the mantle sable, and the arms a white field and red
cross with two stars.  Their office was to defend widows and
orphans; they were to act as mediators; they had internal
regulations like other religious bodies.  The  above-mentioned M.
Loderingo was the founder of that order.  But it was not long
before they too well deserved the appellation given them, and
were found to be more bent on enjoying themselves than on any
other  subject.  These two friars were called in by the
Florentines, and had a residence assigned them in the palace
belonging to the people over against the Abbey.  Such was the
dependence placed on the character of their order that it was
expected they would be impartial, and would save the commonwealth
any unnecessary expense; instead of which, though inclined to
opposite parties, they secretly and hypocritically concurred in
promoting their own advantage rather than the public good."  G.
Villani, b. vii. c.13.  This happened in 1266.
v. 110.  Gardingo's vicinage.]  The name of that part of the city
which was inhabited by the powerful Ghibelline family of Uberti,
and destroyed under the partial and iniquitous administration of
Catalano and Loderingo.
v. 117.  That pierced spirit.]  Caiaphas.
v. 124.  The father of his consort.]  Annas, father-in-law to
v. 146.  He is a liar.]  John, c. viii. 44.  Dante had perhaps
heard this text from one of the pulpits in Bologna.
 v. 1.  In the year's early nonage.]  "At the latter part of
January, when the sun enters into Aquarius, and the equinox is
drawing near, when the hoar-frosts in the morning often wear the
appearance of snow but are melted by the rising sun."
v. 51.  Vanquish thy weariness.]
               Quin corpus onustum
        Hesternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat una,
        Atque affigit humi divinae particulam aurae.
               Hor. Sat. ii. l. ii. 78.
v. 82.  Of her sands.]  Compare Lucan, Phars. l. ix. 703.
v. 92.  Heliotrope.]  The occult properties of this stone are
described by Solinus, c. xl, and by Boccaccio, in his humorous
tale  of Calandrino. Decam. G. viii. N. 3.
In Chiabrera's Ruggiero, Scaltrimento begs of Sofia, who is
sending him on a perilous errand, to lend him the heliotrope.
               In mia man fida
        L'elitropia, per cui possa involarmi
        Secondo il mio talento agli occhi altrui.
               c. vi.
        Trust to my hand the heliotrope, by which
        I may at will from others' eyes conceal me
Compare Ariosto, II Negromante, a. 3. s. 3.  Pulci, Morg.  Magg.
c xxv. and Fortiguerra, Ricciardetto, c. x. st. 17.
Gower in his Confessio Amantis, lib. vii, enumerates it among the
jewels in the diadem of the sun.
        Jaspis and helitropius.
v. 104.  The Arabian phoenix.]  This is translated from Ovid,
Metam. l. xv.
        Una est quae reparat, seque ipsa reseminat ales,
See also Petrarch, Canzone:
        "Qual piu," &c.
v. 120.  Vanni Fucci.]  He is said to have been an illegitimate
offspring of the family of Lazari in Pistoia, and, having robbed
the sacristy of the church of St. James in that city, to have
charged Vanni della Nona with the sacrilege, in consequence of
which accusation the latter suffered death.
v. 142.  Pistoia.]  "In May 1301, the Bianchi party, of Pistoia,
with the assistance and favor of the Bianchi who ruled Florence,
drove out the Neri party from the former place, destroying their
houses, Palaces and farms."  Giov. Villani, Hist. l. viii. e
v. 144.  From Valdimagra.]  The commentators explain this
prophetical threat to allude to the victory obtained by the
Marquis Marcello Malaspina of Valdimagra (a tract of country now
called the Lunigiana) who put himself at the head of the Neri and
defeated their opponents the Bianchi, in the Campo Piceno near
Pistoia, soon after the occurrence related in the preceding note.
Of this engagement I find no mention in Villani.  Currado
Malaspina is introduced in the eighth Canto of Purgatory; where
it appears that, although on the present occaision they espoused
contrary sides, some important favours were nevertheless
conferred by that family on our poet at a subsequent perid of his
exile in 1307.
v.1.  The sinner ]  So Trissino
        Poi facea con le man le fiche al cielo
        Dicendo:  Togli, Iddio; che puoi piu farmi?
               L'ital. Lib. c. xii
v. 12.  Thy seed]  Thy ancestry.
v. 15.  Not him]  Capanaeus.  Canto XIV.
v. 18.  On Marenna's marsh.]  An extensive tract near the
sea-shore in Tuscany.
v. 24.  Cacus.]  Virgil, Aen. l. viii. 193.
v. 31.  A hundred blows.]  Less than ten blows, out of the
hundred Hercules gave him, deprived him of feeling.
v. 39.  Cianfa]  He is said to have been of the family of Donati
at Florence.
v. 57.  Thus up the shrinking paper.]
        --All my bowels crumble up to dust.
        I am a scribbled form, drawn up with a pen
        Upon a parchment; and against this fire
        Do I shrink up.
               Shakespeare, K. John, a. v. s. 7.
v. 61.  Agnello.]  Agnello Brunelleschi
v. 77.  In that part.]  The navel.
v. 81.  As if by sleep or fev'rous fit assail'd.]
               O Rome!  thy head
        Is drown'd in sleep, and all thy body fev'ry.
               Ben Jonson's Catiline.
v. 85.  Lucan.]  Phars. l. ix. 766 and 793.
v. 87.  Ovid.] Metam. l. iv. and v.
v. 121.  His sharpen'd visage.]  Compare Milton, P. L. b. x. 511
v. 131.  Buoso.]  He is said to have been of the Donati family.
v. 138.  Sciancato.]  Puccio Sciancato, a noted robber, whose
familly, Venturi says, he has not been able to discover.
v. 140.  Gaville.]  Francesco Guercio Cavalcante was killed at
Gaville, near Florence; and in revenge of his death several
inhabitants of that district were put to death.
v. 7. But if our minds.]
        Namque sub Auroram, jam dormitante lucerna,
        Somnia quo cerni tempore vera solent.
               Ovid, Epist. xix
The same poetical superstition is alluded to in the Purgatory,
Cant. IX. and XXVII.
v. 9. Shall feel what Prato.]  The poet prognosticates the
calamities which were soon to befal his native city, and which he
says, even her nearest neighbor, Prato, would wish her.  The
calamities more particularly pointed at, are said to be the fall
of a wooden bridge over the Arno, in May, 1304, where a large
multitude were assembled to witness a representation  of hell nnd
the infernal torments, in consequence of which accident many
lives were lost; and a conflagration that in the following month
destroyed more than seventeen hundred houses, many ofthem
sumptuous buildings.  See G. Villani, Hist. l. viii. c. 70 and
v. 22.  More than I am wont.]  "When I reflect on the punishment
allotted to those who do not give sincere and upright advice to
others I am more anxious than ever not to abuse to so bad a
purpose those talents, whatever they may be, which Nature, or
rather Providence, has conferred on me."  It is probable that
this declaration was the result of real feeling Textd have
given great weight to
any opinion or party he had espoused, and to whom indigence and
exile might have offerred strong temptations to deviate from that
line of conduct which a strict sense of duty prescribed.
v. 35.  as he, whose wrongs.] Kings, b. ii. c. ii.
v. 54.  ascending from that funeral pile.] The flame is said to
have divided on the funeral pile which consumed tile bodies of
Eteocles and Polynices, as if conscious of the enmity that
actuated them while living.
        Ecce iterum fratris, &c.
               Statius, Theb. l. xii.
        Ostendens confectas flamma, &c.
               Lucan, Pharsal. l. 1. 145.
v. 60.  The ambush of the horse.]  "The ambush of the wooden
horse, that caused Aeneas to quit the city of Troy and seek his
fortune in Italy, where his descendants founded the Roman
v. 91.  Caieta.]  Virgil, Aeneid. l. vii. 1.
v. 93.  Nor fondness for my son] Imitated hp Tasso, G. L. c.
        Ne timor di fatica o di periglio,
        Ne vaghezza del regno, ne pietade
        Del vecchio genitor, si degno affetto
        Intiepedir nel generoso petto.
This imagined voyage of Ulysses into the Atlantic is alluded to
        E sopratutto commendava Ulisse,
        Che per veder nell' altro mondo gisse.
               Morg. Magg. c. xxv
And by Tasso, G. L. c. xv. 25.
v. 106.  The strait pass.]  The straits of Gibraltar.
v. 122.  Made our oars wings.l So Chiabrera, Cant. Eroiche. xiii
               Faro de'remi un volo.
And Tasso Ibid. 26.
v. 128.  A mountain dim.] The mountain of Purgatorg
CANTO XXVII.
v. 6.  The Sicilian Bull.] The engine of torture invented by
Perillus, for the tyrant Phalaris.
v. 26.  Of the mountains there.]  Montefeltro.
v. 38.  Polenta's eagle.]  Guido Novello da Polenta, who bore an
eagle for his coat of arms.  The name of Polenta was derived from
a castle so called in the neighbourhood of Brittonoro.  Cervia is
a small maritime city, about fifteen miles to the south of
Ravenna.  Guido was the son of Ostasio da Polenta, and made
himself master of Ravenna, in 1265.  In 1322 he was deprived of
his sovereignty, and died at Bologna in the year following.  This
last and most munificent patron of Dante is himself enumerated,
by the historian of Italian literature, among the poets of his
time.  Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett. Ital. t. v. 1. iii. c. ii.
13.  The passnge in the text might have removed the uncertainty
wwhich Tiraboschi expressed, respecting the duration of Guido's
absence from Ravenna, when he was driven from that city in 1295,
by the arms of Pietro, archbishop of Monreale.  It must evidently
have been very short, since his government is here represented
(in 1300) as not having suffered any material disturbance for
v. 41.  The land.l The territory of Forli, the inhabitants of
which, in 1282, mere enabled, hy the strategem of Guido da
Montefeltro,  who then governed it, to defeat with great
slaughter the French army by which it had been besieged.  See G.
Villani, l. vii. c. 81.  The poet informs Guido, its former
ruler, that it is now in the possession of Sinibaldo Ordolaffi,
or Ardelaffi, whom he designates by his coat of arms, a lion
v. 43.  The old mastiff of Verucchio and the young.]  Malatesta
and Malatestino his son, lords of Rimini, called, from their
ferocity, the mastiffs of Verruchio, which was the name of their
v. 44.  Montagna.]  Montagna de'Parcitati, a noble knight, and
leader of the Ghibelline party at Rimini, murdered by
Malatestino.
v. 46.  Lamone's city and Santerno's.]  Lamone is the river at
Faenza, and Santerno at Imola.
v. 47.  The lion of the snowy lair.]  Machinardo Pagano, whose
arms were a lion azure on a field argent; mentioned again in the
Purgatory, Canto XIV. 122.  See G. Villani passim, where he is
called Machinardo da Susinana.
v. 50.  Whose flank is wash'd of SSavio's wave.]  Cesena,
situated at the foot of a mountain, and washed by the river
Savio, that often descends with a swoln and rapid stream from the
v. 64.  A man of arms.]  Guido da Montefeltro.
v. 68.  The high priest.]  Boniface VIII.
v. 72.  The nature of the lion than the fox.]
        Non furon leonine ma di volpe.
So Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xix.
        E furon le sua opre e le sue colpe
        Non creder leonine ma di volpe.
v. 81. The chief of the new Pharisee.]  Boniface VIII. whose
enmity to the family of Colonna prompted him to destroy their
houses near the Lateran.  Wishing to obtain possession of their
other seat, Penestrino, he consulted with Guido da Montefeltro
how he might accomplish his purpose, offering him at the same
time absolution for his past sins, as well as for that which he
was then tempting him to commit.  Guido's advice was, that kind
words and fair promises nonld put his enemies into his power; and
they accordingly soon aftermards fell into the snare laid for
them, A.D. 1298. See G. Villani, l. viii. c. 23.
v. 84.          Nor against Acre one
               Had fought.]
He alludes to the renegade Christians, by whom the Saracens, in
Apri., 1291, were assisted to recover St.John d'Acre, the last
possession of the Christians in the Iloly Land. The regret
expressed by the Florentine annalist G. Villani, for the loss of
this valuable fortress, is well worthy of observation, l. vii. c.
v. 89.  As in Soracte Constantine besought.]  So in Dante's
treatise De Monarchia:  "Dicunt quidam adhue, quod Constantinus
Imperator, mundatus a lepra intercessione Syvestri, tunc summni
pontificis imperii sedem, scilicet Romam, donavit ecclesiae, cum
multis allis imperii dignitatibus."  Lib.iii.
v. 101.  My predecessor.]  Celestine V. See Notes to Canto III.
CANTO XXVIII.
v.8.  In that long war.]  The war of Hannibal in Italy.  "When
Mago brought news of his victories to Carthage, in order to make
his successes more easily credited, he commanded the golden rings
to be poured out in the senate house, which made so large a heap,
that, as some relate, they filled three modii and a half.  A more
probable account represents them not to have exceeded one
modius."  Livy, Hist.
v. 12.  Guiscard's Norman steel.]  Robert Guiscard, who conquered
the kingdom of Naples, and died in 1110.  G. Villani, l. iv. c.
18.  He is introduced in the Paradise, Canto XVIII.
v. 13.  And those the rest.] The army of Manfredi, which, through
the treachery of the Apulian troops, wns overcome by Charles of
Anjou in 1205, and fell in such numbers that the bones of the
slain were still gathered near Ceperano.  G. Villani, l. vii. c.
9.  See the Purgatory, Canto III.
v. 10.  O Tagliocozzo.]  He alludes to tile victory which Charles
gained over Conradino, by the sage advice of the Sieur de Valeri,
in 1208.  G. Villani, l. vii. c. 27.
v. 32.  Ali.]  The disciple of Mohammed.
v. 53.  Dolcino.]  "In 1305, a friar, called Dolcino, who
belonged to no regular order, contrived to raise in Novarra, in
Lombardy, a large company of the meaner sort of people, declaring
himself to be a true apostle of Christ, and promulgating a
community of property and of wives, with many other such
heretical doctrines.  He blamed the pope, cardinals, and other
prelates of the holy church, for not observing their duty, nor
leading the angelic life, and affirmed that he ought to be pope.
He was followed by more than three thousand men and women, who
lived promiscuously on the mountains together, like beasts, and,
when they wanted provisions, supplied themselves by depredation
and rapine.  This lasted for two years till, many being struck
with compunction at the dissolute life they led, his sect was
much diminished; and through failure of food, and the severity of
the snows, he was taken by the people of Novarra, and burnt, with
Margarita his companion and many other men and women whom his
errors had seduced."  G. Villanni, l. viii. c. 84.
Landino observes, that he was possessed of singular eloquence,
and that both he and Margarita endored their fate with a firmness
worthy of a better cause.  For a further account of him, see
Muratori Rer. Ital. Script. t. ix. p. 427.
v. 69.  Medicina.]  A place in the territory of Bologna.  Piero
fomented dissensions among the inhabitants of that city, and
among the leaders of the neighbouring states.
v. 70.  The pleasant land.]  Lombardy.
v. 72.  The twain.]  Guido dal Cassero and Angiolello da Cagnano,
two of the worthiest and most distinguished citizens of Fano,
were invited by Malatestino da Rimini to an entertainment on
pretence that he had some important business to transact with
them:  and, according to instructions given by him, they mere
drowned in their passage near Catolica, between Rimini and Fano.
v. 85.  Focara's wind.] Focara is a mountain, from which a wind
blows that is peculiarly dangerous to the navigators of that
v. 94.  The doubt in Caesar's mind.]  Curio, whose speech
(according to Lucan) determined Julius Caesar to proceed when he
had arrived at Rimini (the ancient Ariminum), and doubted whether
he should prosecute the civil war.
        Tolle moras:  semper nocuit differre paratis
               Pharsal, l. i. 281.
v. 102.  Mosca.]  Buondelmonte was engaged to marry a lady of the
Amidei family, but broke his promise and united himself to one of
the Donati.  This was so much resented by the former, that a
meeting of themselves and their kinsmen was held, to consider of
the best means of revenging the insult.  Mosca degli Uberti
persuaded them to resolve on the assassination of Buondelmonte,
exclaiming to them  "the thing once done, there is an end."  The
counsel and its effects were the source of many terrible
calamities to the state of Florence.  "This murder," says G.
Villani, l. v. c. 38,  "was the cause and beginning of the
accursed Guelph and Ghibelline parties in Florence."  It happened
in 1215.  See the Paradise, Canto XVI. 139.
v. 111.  The boon companion.]
        What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted?
Shakespeare, 2 Hen. VI. a. iii. s. 2.
v. 160.  Bertrand.]  Bertrand de Born, Vicomte de Hautefort, near
Perigueux in Guienne, who incited John to rebel against his
father, Henry II. of England.  Bertrand holds a distinguished
place among the Provencal poets.  He is quoted in Dante, "De
Vulg. Eloq." l. ii. c. 2.  For the translation of some extracts
from his poems, see Millot, Hist. Litteraire des Troubadors t. i.
p. 210; but the historical parts of that work are, I believe, not
to be relied on.
v. 26.  Geri of Bello.]  A kinsman of the Poet's, who was
murdered by one of the Sacchetti family.  His being placed here,
may be considered as a proof that Dante was more impartial in the
allotment of his punishments than has generally been supposed.
v. 44.  As were the torment.]  It is very probable that these
lines gave Milton the idea of his celebrated description:
               Immediately a place
        Before their eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark,
        A lasar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid
        Numbers of all diseas'd, all maladies, &c.
               P. L. b. xi. 477.
v. 45.  Valdichiana.]  The valley through which passes the river
Chiana, bounded by Arezzo, Cortona, Montepulciano, and Chiusi. In
the heat of autumn it was formerly rendered unwholesome by the
stagnation of the water, but has since been drained by the
Emperor Leopold II.  The Chiana is mentioned as a remarkably
sluggish stream, in the Paradise, Canto XIII. 21.
v. 47.  Maremma's pestilent fen.]  See Note to Canto XXV. v. 18.
v. 58.  In Aegina.] He alludes to the fable of the ants changed
into Myrmidons. Ovid, Met. 1. vii.
v. 104.  Arezzo was my dwelling.]  Grifolino of Arezzo, who
promised Albero, son of the Bishop of Sienna, that he would teach
him the art of flying; and because be did not keep his promise,
Albero prevailed on his father to have him burnt for a
necromancer.
               Was ever race
        Light as Sienna's?]
The same imputation is again cast on the Siennese, Purg. Canto
v. 121.  Stricca.] This is said ironically.  Stricca, Niccolo
Salimbeni, Caccia of Asciano, and Abbagliato, or Meo de
Folcacchieri, belonged to a company of prodigal and luxurious
young men in Sienna, called the "brigata godereccia."  Niccolo
was the inventor of a new manner of using cloves in cookery, not
very well understood by the commentators, and which was termed
the  "costuma ricca."
v. 125.  In that garden.]  Sienna.
v. 134.  Cappocchio's ghost.] Capocchio of Sienna, who is said to
have been a fellow-student of Dante's in natural philosophy.
v. 4.  Athamas.]  From Ovid, Metam. 1. iv.
        Protinos Aelides, &c.
v. 16.  Hecuba. See Euripedes, Hecuba; and Ovid, Metnm. l. xiii.
v. 33.  Schicchi.]  Gianni Schicci, who was of the family of
Cavalcanti, possessed such a faculty of moulding his features to
the resemblance of others, that he was employed by Simon Donati
to personate Buoso Donati, then recently deceased, and to make a
will, leaving Simon his heir; for which service he was
renumerated with a mare of extraordinary value, here called "the
lady of the herd."
v. 39.  Myrrha.] See Ovid, Metam. l. x.
v. 60. Adamo's woe.]  Adamo of Breschia, at the instigation of
Cuido Alessandro, and their brother Aghinulfo, lords of Romena,
coonterfeited the coin of Florence; for which crime he was burnt.
Landino says, that in his time the peasants still pointed out a
pile of stones near Romena as the place of his execution.
v. 64.  Casentino.] Romena is a part of Casentino.
v. 77.  Branda's limpid spring.]  A fountain in Sienna.
v. 88.  The florens with three carats of alloy.]  The floren was
a coin that ought to have had tmenty-four carats of pure gold.
Villani relates, that it was first used at Florence in 1253, an
aera of great prosperity in the annals of the republic; before
which time their most valuable coinage was of silver.  Hist. l.
v. 98.  The false accuser.]  Potiphar's wife.
v. 1.  The very tongue.]
        Vulnus in Herculeo quae quondam fecerat hoste
        Vulneris auxilium Pellas hasta fuit.
               Ovid, Rem. Amor. 47.
The same allusion was made by Bernard de Ventadour, a Provencal
poet in the middle of the twelfth century: and Millot observes,
that it was a singular instance of erudition in a Troubadour.
But it is not impossible, as Warton remarks, (Hist. of Engl.
Poetry, vol. ii. sec. x. p 215.) but that he might have been
indebted for it to some of the early romances.
In Chaucer's Squier's Tale, a sword of similar quality is
        And other folk have wondred on the sweard,
        That could so piercen through every thing;
        And fell in speech of Telephus the king,
        And of Achillcs for his queint spere,
        For he couth with it both heale and dere.
So Shakspeare, Henry VI. p. ii. a. 5. s. 1.
        Whose smile and frown like to Achilles' spear
        Is able with the change to kill and cure.
v. 14. Orlando.l
        When Charlemain with all his peerage fell
               At Fontarabia
               Milton, P. L. b. i. 586.
See Warton's Hist. of Eng. Poetrg, v. i. sect. iii. p. 132.
"This is the horn which Orlando won from the giant Jatmund, and
which as Turpin and the Islandic bards report, was endued with
magical power, and might be heard at the distance of twenty
miles."  Charlemain and Orlando are introduced in the Paradise,
Canto XVIII.
v. 36.  Montereggnon.] A castle near Sienna.
v. 105.  The fortunate vale.] The country near Carthage.  See
Liv. Hist. l. xxx. and Lucan, Phars. l. iv. 590. Dante has kept
the latter of these writers in his eye throughout all this
v. 123.  Alcides.]  The combat between Hercules Antaeus is
adduced by the Poet in his treatise "De Monarchia," l. ii. as a
proof of the judgment of God displayed in the duel, according to
the singular superstition of those times.
v. 128.  The tower of Carisenda.]  The leaning tower at Bologna
CANTO XXXII.
v. 8.          A tongue not us'd
        To infant babbling.]
        Ne da lingua, che chiami mamma, o babbo.
Dante in his treatise " De Vulg. Eloq." speaking of words not
admissble in the loftier, or as he calls it, tragic style of
poetry, says- "In quorum numero nec puerilia propter suam
simplicitatem ut Mamma et Babbo," l. ii. c. vii.
v. 29.  Tabernich or Pietrapana.] The one a mountain in
Sclavonia, the other in that tract of country called the
Garfagnana, not far from Lucca.
v. 33.  To where modest shame appears.]  "As high as to the
v. 35.  Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.]
        Mettendo i denti in nota di cicogna.
So Boccaccio, G. viii. n. 7. "Lo scolar cattivello quasi cicogna
divenuto si forte batteva i denti."
v. 53.  Who are these two.]  Alessandro and Napoleone, sons of
Alberto Alberti, who murdered each other.  They were proprietors
of the valley of Falterona, where the Bisenzio has its source, a
river that falls into the Arno about six miles from Florence.
v. 59.  Not him,]  Mordrec, son of King Arthur.
v. 60. Foccaccia.]  Focaccia of Cancellieri, (the Pistoian
family) whose atrocious act of revenge against his uncle is said
to have given rise to the parties of the Bianchi and Neri, in the
year 1300. See G. Villani, Hist. l, viii. c. 37. and
Macchiavelli, Hist. l. ii. The account of the latter writer
differs much from that given by Landino in his Commentary.
v. 63.  Mascheroni.]  Sassol Mascheroni, a Florentiue, who also
murdered his uncle.
v. 66.  Camiccione.]  Camiccione de' Pazzi of Valdarno, by whom
his kinsman Ubertino was treacherously pnt to death.
v. 67.  Carlino.]  One of the same family.  He betrayed the
Castel di Piano Travigne, in Valdarno, to the Florentines, after
the refugees of the Bianca and Ghibelline party had defended it
against a siege for twenty-nine days, in the summer of 1302.  See
G. Villani, l. viii. c. 52 and Dino Compagni, l. ii.
v. 81. Montaperto.] The defeat of the Guelfi at Montaperto,
occasioned by the treachery of Bocca degli Abbati, who, during
the engagement, cut off the hand of Giacopo del Vacca de'Pazzi,
bearer of the Florentine standard.  G. Villani, l. vi. c. 80, and
Notes to Canto X.  This event happened in 1260.
v. 113.  Him of Duera.]  Buoso of Cremona, of the family of
Duera, who was bribed by Guy de Montfort, to leave a pass between
Piedmont and Parma, with the defence of which he had been
entrusted by the Ghibellines, open to the army of Charles of
Anjou, A.D. 1265, at which the people of Cremona were so enraged,
that they extirpated the whole family.  G. Villani, l. vii. c. 4.
v. 118.  Beccaria.]  Abbot of Vallombrosa, who was the Pope's
Legate at Florence, where his intrigues in favour of the
Ghibellines being discovered, he was beheaded. I do not find the
occurrence in Vallini, nor do the commentators say to what pope
he was legate. By Landino he is reported to have been from Parma,
by Vellutello from Pavia.
v. 118.  Soldanieri.]  "Gianni Soldanieri,"  says Villani, Hist.
l. vii. c14, "put himself at the head of the people, in the hopes
of rising into power, not aware that the result would be mischief
to the Ghibelline party, and his own ruin; an event which seems
ever to have befallen him, who has headed the populace in
Florence." A.D. 1266.
v. 119.  Ganellon.]  The betrayer of Charlemain, mentioned by
Archbishop Turpin.  He is a common instance of treachery with the
poets of the middle ages.
        Trop son fol e mal pensant,
        Pis valent que Guenelon.
               Thibaut, roi de Navarre
        O new Scariot, and new Ganilion,
        O false dissembler, &c.
               Chaucer, Nonne's Prieste's Tale
And in the Monke's Tale, Peter of Spaine.
v. 119.  Tribaldello.]  Tribaldello de'Manfredi, who was bribed
to betray the city of Faonza, A. D. 1282. G. Villani, l. vii. c.
v. 128.  Tydeus.] See Statius, Theb. l. viii. ad finem.
CANTO XXXIII.
v. 14.  Count Ugolino.]  "In the year 1288, in the month of July,
Pisa was much divided by competitors for the sovereignty; one
party, composed of certain of the Guelphi, being headed by the
Judge Nino di Gallura de'Visconti; another, consisting of others
of the same faction, by the Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi; and
the third by the Archbishop Ruggieri degli Ubaldini, with the
Lanfranchi, Sismondi, Gualandi, and other Ghibelline houses.  The
Count Ugolino,to effect his purpose, united with the Archbishop
and his party, and having betrayed Nino, his sister's son, they
contrived that he and his followers should either be driven out
of Pisa, or their persons seized.  Nino hearing this, and not
seeing any means of defending himself, retired to Calci, his
castle, and formed an alliance with the Florentines and people of
Lucca, against the Pisans.  The Count, before Nino was gone, in
order to cover his treachery, when everything was settled for his
expulsion, quitted Pisa, and repaired to a manor of his called
Settimo; whence, as soon as he was informed of Nino's departure,
he returned to Pisa with great rejoicing and festivity, and was
elevated to the supreme power with every demonstration of triumph
and honour.  But his greatness was not of long continuauce.  It
pleased the Almighty that a total reverse of fortune should
ensue, as a punishment for his acts of treachery and guilt:  for
he was said to have poisoned the Count Anselmo da Capraia, his
sister's son, on account of the envy and fear excited in his mind
by the high esteem in which the gracious manners of Anselmo were
held by the Pisans.  The power of the Guelphi being so much
diminished, the Archbishop devised means to betray the Count
Uglino and caused him to be suddenly attacked in his palace by
the fury of the people, whom he had exasperated, by telling them
that Ugolino had betrayed Pisa, and given up their castles to the
citizens of Florence and of Lucca. He was immediately compelled
to surrender; his bastard son and his grandson fell in the
assault; and two of his sons, with their two sons also, were
conveyed to prison."  G. Villani l. vii. c. 120.
"In the following march, the Pisans, who had imprisoned the Count
Uglino, with two of his sons and two of his grandchildren, the
offspring of his son the Count Guelfo, in a tower on the Piazza
of the Anzania, caused the tower to be locked, the key thrown
into the Arno, and all food to be withheld from them.  In a few
days they died of hunger; but the Count first with loud cries
declared his penitence, and yet neither priest nor friar was
allowed to shrive him.  All the five, when dead, were dragged out
of the prison, and meanly interred; and from thence forward the
tower was called the tower of famine, and so shall ever be."
Ibid. c. 127.
Chancer has briefly told Ugolino's story. See Monke's Tale,
Hugeline of Pise.
v. 29.  Unto the mountain.]  The mountain S. Giuliano, between
Pisa and Lucca.
v. 59. Thou gav'st.]
               Tu ne vestisti
        Queste misere carni, e tu le spoglia.
Imitated by Filicaja, Canz. iii.
        Di questa imperial caduca spoglia
        Tu, Signor, me vestisti e tu mi spoglia:
        Ben puoi'l Regno me tor tu che me'l desti.
And by Maffei, in the Merope:
               Tu disciogleste
        Queste misere membra e tu le annodi.
v. 79. In that fair region.]
        Del bel paese la, dove'l si suona.
Italy as explained by Dante himself, in his treatise De Vulg.
Eloq. l. i. c. 8. "Qui autem Si dicunt a praedictis finibus.
(Januensiem) Oreintalem (Meridionalis Europae partem) tenent;
videlicet usque ad promontorium illud Italiae, qua sinus
Adriatici maris incipit et Siciliam."
v. 82.  Capraia and Gorgona.]  Small islands near the mouth of
v. 94.  There very weeping suffers not to weep,]
        Lo pianto stesso li pianger non lascia.
So Giusto de'Conti, Bella Mano. Son. "Quanto il ciel."
        Che il troppo pianto a me pianger non lassa.
v. 116.  The friar Albigero.]  Alberigo de'Manfredi, of Faenza,
one of the Frati Godenti, Joyons Friars who having quarrelled
with some of his brotherhood, under pretence of wishing to be
reconciled, invited them to a banquet, at the conclusion of which
he called for the fruit, a signal for the assassins to rush in
and dispatch those whom he had marked for destruction.  Hence,
adds Landino, it is said proverbially of one who has been
stabbed, that he has had some of the friar Alberigo's fruit.
Thus Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xxv.
        Le frutte amare di frate Alberico.
v. 123.  Ptolomea.]  This circle is named Ptolomea from Ptolemy,
the son of Abubus, by whom Simon and his sons were murdered, at a
great banquet he had made for them. See Maccabees, ch xvi.
v. 126.  The glazed tear-drops.]
        -sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears.
               Shakspeare, Rich. II. a. 2. s. 2.
v. 136.  Branca Doria.]  The family of Doria was possessed of
great influence in Genoa.  Branca is said to have murdered his
father-in-law, Michel Zanche, introduced in Canto XXII.
v. 162  Romagna's darkest spirit.]  The friar Alberigo.
Canto XXXIV.
v. 6.  A wind-mill.]  The author of the Caliph Vathek, in the
notes to that tale, justly observes, that it is more than
probable that Don Quixote's mistake of the wind-mills for giants
was suggested to Cervantes by this simile.
v. 37. Three faces.]  It can scarcely be doubted but that Milton
derived his description of Satan in those lines,
               Each passion dimm'd his face
        Thrice chang'd with pale, ire, envy, and despair.
               P. L. b. iv. 114.
from this passage, coupled with the remark of Vellutello upon it:
"The first of these sins is anger which he signifies by the red
face; the second, represented by that between pale and yellow is
envy and not, as others have said, avarice; and the third,
denoted by the black, is a melancholy humour that causes a man's
thoughts to be dark and evil, and averse from all joy and
tranquillity."
v. 44. Sails.]
               --His sail-broad vans
        He spreads for flight.
               Milton, P. L. b. ii. 927.
Compare Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. xi. st. 10;  Ben Jonson's Every
Man out of his humour, v. 7; and Fletcher's Prophetess, a. 2. s.
v. 46.  Like a bat.]  The description of an imaginary being, who
is called Typhurgo, in the Zodiacus Vitae, has some touches very
like this of Dante's Lucifer.
        Ingentem vidi regem ingentique sedentem
        In solio, crines flammanti stemmate cinctum
               ---utrinque patentes
        Alae humeris magnae, quales vespertilionum
        Membranis contextae amplis--
        Nudus erat longis sed opertus corpora villis.
               M. Palingenii, Zod. Vit. l. ix.
        A mighty king I might discerne,
               Plac'd hie on lofty chaire,
        His haire with fyry garland deckt
               Puft up in fiendish wise.
        x      x      x       x      x       x
               Large wings on him did grow
        Framde like the wings of flinder mice, &c.
               Googe's Translation
v. 61. Brutus.]  Landino struggles, but I fear in vain, to
extricate Brutus from the unworthy lot which is here assigned
him.  He maintains, that by Brutus and Cassius are not meant the
individuals known by those names, but any who put a lawful
monarch to death.  Yet if Caesar was such, the conspirators might
be regarded as deserving of their doom.
v. 89.  Within one hour and half of noon.]  The poet uses the
Hebrew manner of computing the day, according to which the third
hour answers to our twelve o'clock at noon.
v. 120.  By what of firm land on this side appears.]  The
mountain of Purgatory.
v.123.  The vaulted tomb.]  "La tomba."  This word is used to
express the whole depth of the infernal region.
O'er better waves to speed her rapid course
The light bark of my genius lifts the sail,
Well pleas'd to leave so cruel sea behind;
And of that second region will I sing,
In which the human spirit from sinful blot
Is purg'd, and for ascent to Heaven prepares.
     Here, O ye hallow'd Nine!  for in your train
I follow, here the deadened strain revive;
Nor let Calliope refuse to sound
A somewhat higher song, of that loud tone,
Which when the wretched birds of chattering note
Had heard, they of forgiveness lost all hope.
     Sweet hue of eastern sapphire, that was spread
O'er the serene aspect of the pure air,
High up as the first circle, to mine eyes
Unwonted joy renew'd, soon as I 'scap'd
Forth from the atmosphere of deadly gloom,
That had mine eyes and bosom fill'd with grief.
The radiant planet, that to love invites,
Made all the orient laugh, and veil'd beneath
The Pisces' light, that in his escort came.
     To the right hand I turn'd, and fix'd my mind
On the' other pole attentive, where I saw
Four stars ne'er seen before save by the ken
Of our first parents.  Heaven of their rays
Seem'd joyous.  O thou northern site, bereft
Indeed, and widow'd, since of these depriv'd!
     As from this view I had desisted, straight
Turning a little tow'rds the other pole,
There from whence now the wain had disappear'd,
I saw an old man standing by my side
Alone, so worthy of rev'rence in his look,
That ne'er from son to father more was ow'd.
Low down his beard and mix'd with hoary white
Descended, like his locks, which parting fell
Upon his breast in double fold.  The beams
Of those four luminaries on his face
So brightly shone, and with such radiance clear
Deck'd it, that I beheld him as the sun.
     "Say who are ye, that stemming the blind stream,
Forth from th' eternal prison-house have fled?"
He spoke and moved those venerable plumes.
"Who hath conducted, or with lantern sure
Lights you emerging from the depth of night,
That makes the infernal valley ever black?
Are the firm statutes of the dread abyss
Broken, or in high heaven new laws ordain'd,
That thus, condemn'd, ye to my caves approach?"
     My guide, then laying hold on me, by words
And intimations given with hand and head,
Made my bent knees and eye submissive pay
Due reverence; then thus to him replied.
     "Not of myself I come; a Dame from heaven
Descending, had besought me in my charge
To bring.  But since thy will implies, that more
Our true condition I unfold at large,
Mine is not to deny thee thy request.
This mortal ne'er hath seen the farthest gloom.
But erring by his folly had approach'd
So near, that little space was left to turn.
Then, as before I told, I was dispatch'd
To work his rescue, and no way remain'd
Save this which I have ta'en.  I have display'd
Before him all the regions of the bad;
And purpose now those spirits to display,
That under thy command are purg'd from sin.
How I have brought him would be long to say.
From high descends the virtue, by whose aid
I to thy sight and hearing him have led.
Now may our coming please thee.  In the search
Of liberty he journeys: that how dear
They know, who for her sake have life refus'd.
Thou knowest, to whom death for her was sweet
In Utica, where thou didst leave those weeds,
That in the last great day will shine so bright.
For us the' eternal edicts are unmov'd:
He breathes, and I am free of Minos' power,
Abiding in that circle where the eyes
Of thy chaste Marcia beam, who still in look
Prays thee, O hallow'd spirit!  to own her shine.
Then by her love we' implore thee, let us pass
Through thy sev'n regions; for which best thanks
I for thy favour will to her return,
If mention there below thou not disdain."
     "Marcia so pleasing in my sight was found,"
He then to him rejoin'd, "while I was there,
That all she ask'd me I was fain to grant.
Now that beyond the' accursed stream she dwells,
She may no longer move me, by that law,
Which was ordain'd me, when I issued thence.
Not so, if Dame from heaven, as thou sayst,
Moves and directs thee; then no flattery needs.
Enough for me that in her name thou ask.
Go therefore now: and with a slender reed
See that thou duly gird him, and his face
Lave, till all sordid stain thou wipe from thence.
For not with eye, by any cloud obscur'd,
Would it be seemly before him to come,
Who stands the foremost minister in heaven.
This islet all around, there far beneath,
Where the wave beats it, on the oozy bed
Produces store of reeds. No other plant,
Cover'd with leaves, or harden'd in its stalk,
There lives, not bending to the water's sway.
After, this way return not; but the sun
Will show you, that now rises, where to take
The mountain in its easiest ascent."
     He disappear'd; and I myself uprais'd
Speechless, and to my guide retiring close,
Toward him turn'd mine eyes.  He thus began;
"My son!  observant thou my steps pursue.
We must retreat to rearward, for that way
The champain to its low extreme declines."
     The dawn had chas'd the matin hour of prime,
Which deaf before it, so that from afar
I spy'd the trembling of the ocean stream.
     We travers'd the deserted plain, as one
Who, wander'd from his track, thinks every step
Trodden in vain till he regain the path.
     When we had come, where yet the tender dew
Strove with the sun, and in a place, where fresh
The wind breath'd o'er it, while it slowly dried;
Both hands extended on the watery grass
My master plac'd, in graceful act and kind.
Whence I of his intent before appriz'd,
Stretch'd out to him my cheeks suffus'd with tears.
There to my visage he anew restor'd
That hue, which the dun shades of hell conceal'd.
     Then on the solitary shore arriv'd,
That never sailing on its waters saw
Man, that could after measure back his course,
He girt me in such manner as had pleas'd
Him who instructed, and O, strange to tell!
As he selected every humble plant,
Wherever one was pluck'd, another there
Resembling, straightway in its place arose.
Now had the sun to that horizon reach'd,
That covers, with the most exalted point
Of its meridian circle, Salem's walls,
And night, that opposite to him her orb
Sounds, from the stream of Ganges issued forth,
Holding the scales, that from her hands are dropp'd
When she reigns highest: so that where I was,
Aurora's white and vermeil-tinctur'd cheek
To orange turn'd as she in age increas'd.
     Meanwhile we linger'd by the water's brink,
Like men, who, musing on their road, in thought
Journey, while motionless the body rests.
When lo!  as near upon the hour of dawn,
Through the thick vapours Mars with fiery beam
Glares down in west, over the ocean floor;
So seem'd, what once again I hope to view,
A light so swiftly coming through the sea,
No winged course might equal its career.
From which when for a space I had withdrawn
Thine eyes, to make inquiry of my guide,
Again I look'd and saw it grown in size
And brightness: thou on either side appear'd
Something, but what I knew not of bright hue,
And by degrees from underneath it came
Another.  My preceptor silent yet
Stood, while the brightness, that we first discern'd,
Open'd the form of wings: then when he knew
The pilot, cried aloud, "Down, down; bend low
Thy knees; behold God's angel: fold thy hands:
Now shalt thou see true Ministers indeed.
Lo how all human means he sets at naught!
So that nor oar he needs, nor other sail
Except his wings, between such distant shores.
Lo how straight up to heaven he holds them rear'd,
Winnowing the air with those eternal plumes,
That not like mortal hairs fall off or change!"
     As more and more toward us came, more bright
Appear'd the bird of God, nor could the eye
Endure his splendor near:  I mine bent down.
He drove ashore in a small bark so swift
And light, that in its course no wave it drank.
The heav'nly steersman at the prow was seen,
Visibly written blessed in his looks.
Within a hundred spirits and more there sat.
"In Exitu Israel de Aegypto;"
All with one voice together sang, with what
In the remainder of that hymn is writ.
Then soon as with the sign of holy cross
He bless'd them, they at once leap'd out on land,
The swiftly as he came return'd. The crew,
There left, appear'd astounded with the place,
Gazing around as one who sees new sights.
     From every side the sun darted his beams,
And with his arrowy radiance from mid heav'n
Had chas'd the Capricorn, when that strange tribe
Lifting their eyes towards us: If ye know,
Declare what path will Lead us to the mount."
     Them Virgil answer'd.  "Ye suppose perchance
Us well acquainted with this place: but here,
We, as yourselves, are strangers.  Not long erst
We came, before you but a little space,
By other road so rough and hard, that now
The' ascent will seem to us as play."  The spirits,
Who from my breathing had perceiv'd I liv'd,
Grew pale with wonder.  As the multitude
Flock round a herald, sent with olive branch,
To hear what news he brings, and in their haste
Tread one another down, e'en so at sight
Of me those happy spirits were fix'd, each one
Forgetful of its errand, to depart,
Where cleans'd from sin, it might be made all fair.
     Then one I saw darting before the rest
With such fond ardour to embrace me, I
To do the like was mov'd.  O shadows vain
Except in outward semblance!  thrice my hands
I clasp'd behind it, they as oft return'd
Empty into my breast again.  Surprise
I needs must think was painted in my looks,
For that the shadow smil'd and backward drew.
To follow it I hasten'd, but with voice
Of sweetness it enjoin'd me to desist.
Then who it was I knew, and pray'd of it,
To talk with me, it would a little pause.
It answered: "Thee as in my mortal frame
I lov'd, so loos'd forth it I love thee still,
And therefore pause; but why walkest thou here?"
     "Not without purpose once more to return,
Thou find'st me, my Casella, where I am
Journeying this way;" I said, "but how of thee
Hath so much time been lost?"  He answer'd straight:
"No outrage hath been done to me, if he
Who when and whom he chooses takes, me oft
This passage hath denied, since of just will
His will he makes.  These three months past indeed,
He, whose chose to enter, with free leave
Hath taken; whence I wand'ring by the shore
Where Tyber's wave grows salt, of him gain'd kind
Admittance, at that river's mouth, tow'rd which
His wings are pointed, for there always throng
All such as not to Archeron descend."
     Then I: "If new laws have not quite destroy'd
Memory and use of that sweet song of love,
That while all my cares had power to 'swage;
Please thee with it a little to console
My spirit, that incumber'd with its frame,
Travelling so far, of pain is overcome."
     "Love that discourses in my thoughts."  He then
Began in such soft accents, that within
The sweetness thrills me yet.  My gentle guide
And all who came with him, so well were pleas'd,
That seem'd naught else might in their thoughts have room.
     Fast fix'd in mute attention to his notes
We stood, when lo!  that old man venerable
Exclaiming, "How is this, ye tardy spirits?
What negligence detains you loit'ring here?
Run to the mountain to cast off those scales,
That from your eyes the sight of God conceal."
     As a wild flock of pigeons, to their food
Collected, blade or tares, without their pride
Accustom'd, and in still and quiet sort,
If aught alarm them, suddenly desert
Their meal, assail'd by more important care;
So I that new-come troop beheld, the song
Deserting, hasten to the mountain's side,
As one who goes yet where he tends knows not.
     Nor with less hurried step did we depart.
Them sudden flight had scatter'd over the plain,
Turn'd tow'rds the mountain, whither reason's voice
Drives us; I to my faithful company
Adhering, left it not.  For how of him
Depriv'd, might I have sped, or who beside
Would o'er the mountainous tract have led my steps
He with the bitter pang of self-remorse
Seem'd smitten.  O clear conscience and upright
How doth a little fling wound thee sore!
     Soon as his feet desisted (slack'ning pace),
From haste, that mars all decency of act,
My mind, that in itself before was wrapt,
Its thoughts expanded, as with joy restor'd:
And full against the steep ascent I set
My face, where highest to heav'n its top o'erflows.
     The sun, that flar'd behind, with ruddy beam
Before my form was broken; for in me
His rays resistance met.  I turn'd aside
With fear of being left, when I beheld
Only before myself the ground obscur'd.
When thus my solace, turning him around,
Bespake me kindly:  "Why distrustest thou?
Believ'st not I am with thee, thy sure guide?
It now is evening there, where buried lies
The body, in which I cast a shade, remov'd
To Naples from Brundusium's wall.  Nor thou
Marvel, if before me no shadow fall,
More than that in the sky element
One ray obstructs not other.  To endure
Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames
That virtue hath dispos'd, which how it works
Wills not to us should be reveal'd.  Insane
Who hopes, our reason may that space explore,
Which holds three persons in one substance knit.
Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;
Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been
For Mary to bring forth.  Moreover ye
Have seen such men desiring fruitlessly;
To whose desires repose would have been giv'n,
That now but serve them for eternal grief.
I speak of Plato, and the Stagyrite,
And others many more."  And then he bent
Downwards his forehead, and in troubled mood
Broke off his speech.  Meanwhile we had arriv'd
Far as the mountain's foot, and there the rock
Found of so steep ascent, that nimblest steps
To climb it had been vain.  The most remote
Most wild untrodden path, in all the tract
'Twixt Lerice and Turbia were to this
A ladder easy' and open of access.
     "Who knows on which hand now the steep declines?"
My master said and paus'd, "so that he may
Ascend, who journeys without aid of wine,?"
And while with looks directed to the ground
The meaning of the pathway he explor'd,
And I gaz'd upward round the stony height,
Of spirits, that toward us mov'd their steps,
Yet moving seem'd not, they so slow approach'd.
     I thus my guide address'd:  "Upraise thine eyes,
Lo that way some, of whom thou may'st obtain
Counsel, if of thyself thou find'st it not!"
     Straightway he look'd, and with free speech replied:
"Let us tend thither: they but softly come.
And thou be firm in hope, my son belov'd."
     Now was that people distant far in space
A thousand paces behind ours, as much
As at a throw the nervous arm could fling,
When all drew backward on the messy crags
Of the steep bank, and firmly stood unmov'd
As one who walks in doubt might stand to look.
     "O spirits perfect!  O already chosen!"
Virgil to them began, "by that blest peace,
Which, as I deem, is for you all prepar'd,
Instruct us where the mountain low declines,
So that attempt to mount it be not vain.
For who knows most, him loss of time most grieves."
     As sheep, that step from forth their fold, by one,
Or pairs, or three at once; meanwhile the rest
Stand fearfully, bending the eye and nose
To ground, and what the foremost does, that do
The others, gath'ring round her, if she stops,
Simple and quiet, nor the cause discern;
So saw I moving to advance the first,
Who of that fortunate crew were at the head,
Of modest mien and graceful in their gait.
When they before me had beheld the light
From my right side fall broken on the ground,
So that the shadow reach'd the cave, they stopp'd
And somewhat back retir'd: the same did all,
Who follow'd, though unweeting of the cause
     "Unask'd of you, yet freely I confess,
This is a human body which ye see.
That the sun's light is broken on the ground,
Marvel not: but believe, that not without
Virtue deriv'd from Heaven, we to climb
Over this wall aspire."  So them bespake
My master; and that virtuous tribe rejoin'd;
" Turn, and before you there the entrance lies,"
Making a signal to us with bent hands.
     Then of them one began.  "Whoe'er thou art,
Who journey'st thus this way, thy visage turn,
Think if me elsewhere thou hast ever seen."
     I tow'rds him turn'd, and with fix'd eye beheld.
Comely, and fair, and gentle of aspect,
He seem'd, but on one brow a gash was mark'd.
     When humbly I disclaim'd to have beheld
Him ever:  "Now behold!"  he said, and show'd
High on his breast a wound: then smiling spake.
     "I am Manfredi, grandson to the Queen
Costanza: whence I pray thee, when return'd,
To my fair daughter go, the parent glad
Of Aragonia and Sicilia's pride;
And of the truth inform her, if of me
Aught else be told.  When by two mortal blows
My frame was shatter'd, I betook myself
Weeping to him, who of free will forgives.
My sins were horrible; but so wide arms
Hath goodness infinite, that it receives
All who turn to it.  Had this text divine
Been of Cosenza's shepherd better scann'd,
Who then by Clement on my hunt was set,
Yet at the bridge's head my bones had lain,
Near Benevento, by the heavy mole
Protected; but the rain now drenches them,
And the wind drives, out of the kingdom's bounds,
Far as the stream of Verde, where, with lights
Extinguish'd, he remov'd them from their bed.
Yet by their curse we are not so destroy'd,
But that the eternal love may turn, while hope
Retains her verdant blossoms.  True it is,
That such one as in contumacy dies
Against the holy church, though he repent,
Must wander thirty-fold for all the time
In his presumption past; if such decree
Be not by prayers of good men shorter made
Look therefore if thou canst advance my bliss;
Revealing to my good Costanza, how
Thou hast beheld me, and beside the terms
Laid on me of that interdict; for here
By means of those below much profit comes."
When by sensations of delight or pain,
That any of our faculties hath seiz'd,
Entire the soul collects herself, it seems
She is intent upon that power alone,
And thus the error is disprov'd which holds
The soul not singly lighted in the breast.
And therefore when as aught is heard or seen,
That firmly keeps the soul toward it turn'd,
Time passes, and a man perceives it not.
For that, whereby he hearken, is one power,
Another that, which the whole spirit hash;
This is as it were bound, while that is free.
     This found I true by proof, hearing that spirit
And wond'ring; for full fifty steps aloft
The sun had measur'd unobserv'd of me,
When we arriv'd where all with one accord
The spirits shouted, "Here is what ye ask."
     A larger aperture ofttimes is stopp'd
With forked stake of thorn by villager,
When the ripe grape imbrowns, than was the path,
By which my guide, and I behind him close,
Ascended solitary, when that troop
Departing left us.  On Sanleo's road
Who journeys, or to Noli low descends,
Or mounts Bismantua's height, must use his feet;
But here a man had need to fly, I mean
With the swift wing and plumes of high desire,
Conducted by his aid, who gave me hope,
And with light furnish'd to direct my way.
     We through the broken rock ascended, close
Pent on each side, while underneath the ground
Ask'd help of hands and feet.  When we arriv'd
Near on the highest ridge of the steep bank,
Where the plain level open'd I exclaim'd,
"O master!  say which way can we proceed?"
     He answer'd, "Let no step of thine recede.
Behind me gain the mountain, till to us
Some practis'd guide appear."  That eminence
Was lofty that no eye might reach its point,
And the side proudly rising, more than line
From the mid quadrant to the centre drawn.
I wearied thus began:  "Parent belov'd!
Turn, and behold how I remain alone,
If thou stay not." --" My son!"  He straight reply'd,
"Thus far put forth thy strength; "and to a track
Pointed, that, on this side projecting, round
Circles the hill.  His words so spurr'd me on,
That I behind him clamb'ring, forc'd myself,
Till my feet press'd the circuit plain beneath.
There both together seated, turn'd we round
To eastward, whence was our ascent: and oft
Many beside have with delight look'd back.
     First on the nether shores I turn'd my eyes,
Then rais'd them to the sun, and wond'ring mark'd
That from the left it smote us.  Soon perceiv'd
That Poet sage how at the car of light
Amaz'd I stood, where 'twixt us and the north
Its course it enter'd.  Whence he thus to me:
"Were Leda's offspring now in company
Of that broad mirror, that high up and low
Imparts his light beneath, thou might'st behold
The ruddy zodiac nearer to the bears
Wheel, if its ancient course it not forsook.
How that may be if thou would'st think; within
Pond'ring, imagine Sion with this mount
Plac'd on the earth, so that to both be one
Horizon, and two hemispheres apart,
Where lies the path that Phaeton ill knew
To guide his erring chariot: thou wilt see
How of necessity by this on one
He passes, while by that on the' other side,
If with clear view shine intellect attend."
     "Of truth, kind teacher!"  I exclaim'd, "so clear
Aught saw I never, as I now discern
Where seem'd my ken to fail, that the mid orb
Of the supernal motion (which in terms
Of art is called the Equator, and remains
Ever between the sun and winter) for the cause
Thou hast assign'd, from hence toward the north
Departs, when those who in the Hebrew land
Inhabit, see it tow'rds the warmer part.
But if it please thee, I would gladly know,
How far we have to journey: for the hill
Mounts higher, than this sight of mine can mount."
     He thus to me:  "Such is this steep ascent,
That it is ever difficult at first,
But, more a man proceeds, less evil grows.
When pleasant it shall seem to thee, so much
That upward going shall be easy to thee.
As in a vessel to go down the tide,
Then of this path thou wilt have reach'd the end.
There hope to rest thee from thy toil.  No more
I answer, and thus far for certain know."
As he his words had spoken, near to us
A voice there sounded:  "Yet ye first perchance
May to repose you by constraint be led."
At sound thereof each turn'd, and on the left
A huge stone we beheld, of which nor I
Nor he before was ware.  Thither we drew,
find there were some, who in the shady place
Behind the rock were standing, as a man
Thru' idleness might stand.  Among them one,
Who seem'd to me much wearied, sat him down,
And with his arms did fold his knees about,
Holding his face between them downward bent.
     "Sweet Sir!"  I cry'd, "behold that man, who shows
Himself more idle, than if laziness
Were sister to him."  Straight he turn'd to us,
And, o'er the thigh lifting his face, observ'd,
Then in these accents spake:  "Up then, proceed
Thou valiant one."  Straight who it was I knew;
Nor could the pain I felt (for want of breath
Still somewhat urg'd me) hinder my approach.
And when I came to him, he scarce his head
Uplifted, saying "Well hast thou discern'd,
How from the left the sun his chariot leads."
     His lazy acts and broken words my lips
To laughter somewhat mov'd; when I began:
"Belacqua, now for thee I grieve no more.
But tell, why thou art seated upright there?
Waitest thou escort to conduct thee hence?
Or blame I only shine accustom'd ways?"
Then he:  "My brother, of what use to mount,
When to my suffering would not let me pass
The bird of God, who at the portal sits?
Behooves so long that heav'n first bear me round
Without its limits, as in life it bore,
Because I to the end repentant Sighs
Delay'd, if prayer do not aid me first,
That riseth up from heart which lives in grace.
What other kind avails, not heard in heaven?"'
     Before me now the Poet up the mount
Ascending, cried:  "Haste thee, for see the sun
Has touch'd the point meridian, and the night
Now covers with her foot Marocco's shore."
Now had I left those spirits, and pursued
The steps of my Conductor, when beheld
Pointing the finger at me one exclaim'd:
"See how it seems as if the light not shone
From the left hand of him beneath, and he,
As living, seems to be led on."  Mine eyes
I at that sound reverting, saw them gaze
Through wonder first at me, and then at me
And the light broken underneath, by turns.
"Why are thy thoughts thus riveted?"  my guide
Exclaim'd, "that thou hast slack'd thy pace?  or how
Imports it thee, what thing is whisper'd here?
Come after me, and to their babblings leave
The crowd. Be as a tower, that, firmly set,
Shakes not its top for any blast that blows!
He, in whose bosom thought on thought shoots out,
Still of his aim is wide, in that the one
Sicklies and wastes to nought the other's strength."
     What other could I answer save "I come?"
I said it, somewhat with that colour ting'd
Which ofttimes pardon meriteth for man.
     Meanwhile traverse along the hill there came,
A little way before us, some who sang
The "Miserere" in responsive Strains.
When they perceiv'd that through my body I
Gave way not for the rays to pass, their song
Straight to a long and hoarse exclaim they chang'd;
And two of them, in guise of messengers,
Ran on to meet us, and inquiring ask'd:
Of your condition we would gladly learn."
     To them my guide.  "Ye may return, and bear
Tidings to them who sent you, that his frame
Is real flesh.  If, as I deem, to view
His shade they paus'd, enough is answer'd them.
Him let them honour, they may prize him well."
     Ne'er saw I fiery vapours with such speed
Cut through the serene air at fall of night,
Nor August's clouds athwart the setting sun,
That upward these did not in shorter space
Return; and, there arriving, with the rest
Wheel back on us, as with loose rein a troop.
     "Many," exclaim'd the bard, "are these, who throng
Around us: to petition thee they come.
Go therefore on, and listen as thou go'st."
     "O spirit!  who go'st on to blessedness
With the same limbs, that clad thee at thy birth."
Shouting they came, "a little rest thy step.
Look if thou any one amongst our tribe
Hast e'er beheld, that tidings of him there
Thou mayst report.  Ah, wherefore go'st thou on?
Ah wherefore tarriest thou not?  We all
By violence died, and to our latest hour
Were sinners, but then warn'd by light from heav'n,
So that, repenting and forgiving, we
Did issue out of life at peace with God,
Who with desire to see him fills our heart."
     Then I:  "The visages of all I scan
Yet none of ye remember.  But if aught,
That I can do, may please you, gentle spirits!
Speak; and I will perform it, by that peace,
Which on the steps of guide so excellent
Following from world to world intent I seek."
     In answer he began:  "None here distrusts
Thy kindness, though not promis'd with an oath;
So as the will fail not for want of power.
Whence I, who sole before the others speak,
Entreat thee, if thou ever see that land,
Which lies between Romagna and the realm
Of Charles, that of thy courtesy thou pray
Those who inhabit Fano, that for me
Their adorations duly be put up,
By which I may purge off my grievous sins.
From thence I came.  But the deep passages,
Whence issued out the blood wherein I dwelt,
Upon my bosom in Antenor's land
Were made, where to be more secure I thought.
The author of the deed was Este's prince,
Who, more than right could warrant, with his wrath
Pursued me.  Had I towards Mira fled,
When overta'en at Oriaco, still
Might I have breath'd. But to the marsh I sped,
And in the mire and rushes tangled there
Fell, and beheld my life-blood float the plain."
     Then said another:  "Ah! so may the wish,
That takes thee o'er the mountain, be fulfill'd,
As thou shalt graciously give aid to mine.
Of Montefeltro I; Buonconte I:
Giovanna nor none else have care for me,
Sorrowing with these I therefore go."  I thus:
"From Campaldino's field what force or chance
Drew thee, that ne'er thy sepulture was known?"
     "Oh!"  answer'd he, "at Casentino's foot
A stream there courseth, nam'd Archiano, sprung
In Apennine above the Hermit's seat.
E'en where its name is cancel'd, there came I,
Pierc'd in the heart, fleeing away on foot,
And bloodying the plain.  Here sight and speech
Fail'd me, and finishing with Mary's name
I fell, and tenantless my flesh remain'd.
I will report the truth; which thou again0
Tell to the living.  Me God's angel took,
Whilst he of hell exclaim'd:  "O thou from heav'n!
Say wherefore hast thou robb'd me?  Thou of him
Th' eternal portion bear'st with thee away
For one poor tear that he deprives me of.
But of the other, other rule I make."
     "Thou knowest how in the atmosphere collects
That vapour dank, returning into water,
Soon as it mounts where cold condenses it.
That evil will, which in his intellect
Still follows evil, came, and rais'd the wind
And smoky mist, by virtue of the power
Given by his nature.  Thence the valley, soon
As day was spent, he cover'd o'er with cloud
From Pratomagno to the mountain range,
And stretch'd the sky above, so that the air
Impregnate chang'd to water.  Fell the rain,
And to the fosses came all that the land
Contain'd not; and, as mightiest streams are wont,
To the great river with such headlong sweep
Rush'd, that nought stay'd its course.  My stiffen'd frame
Laid at his mouth the fell Archiano found,
And dash'd it into Arno, from my breast
Loos'ning the cross, that of myself I made
When overcome with pain.  He hurl'd me on,
Along the banks and bottom of his course;
Then in his muddy spoils encircling wrapt."
     "Ah!  when thou to the world shalt be return'd,
And rested after thy long road," so spake
Next the third spirit; "then remember me.
I once was Pia.  Sienna gave me life,
Maremma took it from me.  That he knows,
Who me with jewell'd ring had first espous'd."
When from their game of dice men separate,
He, who hath lost, remains in sadness fix'd,
Revolving in his mind, what luckless throws
He cast: but meanwhile all the company
Go with the other; one before him runs,
And one behind his mantle twitches, one
Fast by his side bids him remember him.
He stops not; and each one, to whom his hand
Is stretch'd, well knows he bids him stand aside;
And thus he from the press defends himself.
E'en such was I in that close-crowding throng;
And turning so my face around to all,
And promising, I 'scap'd from it with pains.
     Here of Arezzo him I saw, who fell
By Ghino's cruel arm; and him beside,
Who in his chase was swallow'd by the stream.
Here Frederic Novello, with his hand
Stretch'd forth, entreated; and of Pisa he,
Who put the good Marzuco to such proof
Of constancy.  Count Orso I beheld;
And from its frame a soul dismiss'd for spite
And envy, as it said, but for no crime:
I speak of Peter de la Brosse; and here,
While she yet lives, that Lady of Brabant
Let her beware; lest for so false a deed
She herd with worse than these. When I was freed
From all those spirits, who pray'd for others' prayers
To hasten on their state of blessedness;
Straight I began:  "O thou, my luminary!
It seems expressly in thy text denied,
That heaven's supreme decree can never bend
To supplication; yet with this design
Do these entreat.  Can then their hope be vain,
Or is thy saying not to me reveal'd?"
     He thus to me:  "Both what I write is plain,
And these deceiv'd not in their hope, if well
Thy mind consider, that the sacred height
Of judgment doth not stoop, because love's flame
In a short moment all fulfils, which he
Who sojourns here, in right should satisfy.
Besides, when I this point concluded thus,
By praying no defect could be supplied;
Because the pray'r had none access to God.
Yet in this deep suspicion rest thou not
Contented unless she assure thee so,
Who betwixt truth and mind infuses light.
I know not if thou take me right; I mean
Beatrice.  Her thou shalt behold above,
Upon this mountain's crown, fair seat of joy."
     Then I:  "Sir!  let us mend our speed; for now
I tire not as before; and lo!  the hill
Stretches its shadow far."  He answer'd thus:
"Our progress with this day shall be as much
As we may now dispatch; but otherwise
Than thou supposest is the truth.  For there
Thou canst not be, ere thou once more behold
Him back returning, who behind the steep
Is now so hidden, that as erst his beam
Thou dost not break.  But lo!  a spirit there
Stands solitary, and toward us looks:
It will instruct us in the speediest way."
     We soon approach'd it.  O thou Lombard spirit!
How didst thou stand, in high abstracted mood,
Scarce moving with slow dignity thine eyes!
It spoke not aught, but let us onward pass,
Eyeing us as a lion on his watch.
I3ut Virgil with entreaty mild advanc'd,
Requesting it to show the best ascent.
It answer to his question none return'd,
But of our country and our kind of life
Demanded.  When my courteous guide began,
"Mantua," the solitary shadow quick
Rose towards us from the place in which it stood,
And cry'd, "Mantuan!  I am thy countryman
Sordello."  Each the other then embrac'd.
     Ah slavish Italy!  thou inn of grief,
Vessel without a pilot in loud storm,
Lady no longer of fair provinces,
But brothel-house impure!  this gentle spirit,
Ev'n from the Pleasant sound of his dear land
Was prompt to greet a fellow citizen
With such glad cheer; while now thy living ones
In thee abide not without war; and one
Malicious gnaws another, ay of those
Whom the same wall and the same moat contains,
Seek, wretched one!  around thy sea-coasts wide;
Then homeward to thy bosom turn, and mark
If any part of the sweet peace enjoy.
What boots it, that thy reins Justinian's hand
Befitted, if thy saddle be unpress'd?
Nought doth he now but aggravate thy shame.
Ah people!  thou obedient still shouldst live,
And in the saddle let thy Caesar sit,
If well thou marked'st that which God commands
     Look how that beast to felness hath relaps'd
From having lost correction of the spur,
Since to the bridle thou hast set thine hand,
O German Albert!  who abandon'st her,
That is grown savage and unmanageable,
When thou should'st clasp her flanks with forked heels.
Just judgment from the stars fall on thy blood!
And be it strange and manifest to all!
Such as may strike thy successor with dread!
For that thy sire and thou have suffer'd thus,
Through greediness of yonder realms detain'd,
The garden of the empire to run waste.
Come see the Capulets and Montagues,
The Philippeschi and Monaldi!  man
Who car'st for nought!  those sunk in grief, and these
With dire suspicion rack'd. Come, cruel one!
Come and behold the' oppression of the nobles,
And mark their injuries:  and thou mayst see.
What safety Santafiore can supply.
Come and behold thy Rome, who calls on thee,
Desolate widow!  day and night with moans:
"My Caesar, why dost thou desert my side?"
Come and behold what love among thy people:
And if no pity touches thee for us,
Come and blush for thine own report.  For me,
If it be lawful, O Almighty Power,
Who wast in earth for our sakes crucified!
Are thy just eyes turn'd elsewhere?  or is this
A preparation in the wond'rous depth
Of thy sage counsel made, for some good end,
Entirely from our reach of thought cut off?
So are the' Italian cities all o'erthrong'd
With tyrants, and a great Marcellus made
Of every petty factious villager.
     My Florence!  thou mayst well remain unmov'd
At this digression, which affects not thee:
Thanks to thy people, who so wisely speed.
Many have justice in their heart, that long
Waiteth for counsel to direct the bow,
Or ere it dart unto its aim: but shine
Have it on their lip's edge.  Many refuse
To bear the common burdens: readier thine
Answer uneall'd, and cry, "Behold I stoop!"
     Make thyself glad, for thou hast reason now,
Thou wealthy!  thou at peace!  thou wisdom-fraught!
Facts best witness if I speak the truth.
Athens and Lacedaemon, who of old
Enacted laws, for civil arts renown'd,
Made little progress in improving life
Tow'rds thee, who usest such nice subtlety,
That to the middle of November scarce
Reaches the thread thou in October weav'st.
How many times, within thy memory,
Customs, and laws, and coins, and offices
Have been by thee renew'd, and people chang'd!
     If thou remember'st well and can'st see clear,
Thou wilt perceive thyself like a sick wretch,
Who finds no rest upon her down, hut oft
Shifting her side, short respite seeks from pain.
After their courteous greetings joyfully
Sev'n times exchang'd, Sordello backward drew
Exclaiming, "Who are ye?"  "Before this mount
By spirits worthy of ascent to God
Was sought, my bones had by Octavius' care
Been buried.  I am Virgil, for no sin
Depriv'd of heav'n, except for lack of faith."
     So answer'd him in few my gentle guide.
     As one, who aught before him suddenly
Beholding, whence his wonder riseth, cries
"It is yet is not," wav'ring in belief;
Such he appear'd; then downward bent his eyes,
And drawing near with reverential step,
Caught him, where of mean estate might clasp
His lord.  "Glory of Latium!" he exclaim'd,
"In whom our tongue its utmost power display'd!
Boast of my honor'd birth-place!  what desert
Of mine, what favour rather undeserv'd,
Shows thee to me?  If I to hear that voice
Am worthy, say if from below thou com'st
And from what cloister's pale?"--"Through every orb
Of that sad region," he reply'd, "thus far
Am I arriv'd, by heav'nly influence led
And with such aid I come.  There is a place
There underneath, not made by torments sad,
But by dun shades alone; where mourning's voice
Sounds not of anguish sharp, but breathes in sighs.
There I with little innocents abide,
Who by death's fangs were bitten, ere exempt
From human taint.  There I with those abide,
Who the three holy virtues put not on,
But understood the rest, and without blame
Follow'd them all.  But if thou know'st and canst,
Direct us, how we soonest may arrive,
Where Purgatory its true beginning takes."
     He answer'd thus:  "We have no certain place
Assign'd us: upwards I may go or round,
Far as I can, I join thee for thy guide.
But thou beholdest now how day declines:
And upwards to proceed by night, our power
Excels: therefore it may be well to choose
A place of pleasant sojourn.  To the right
Some spirits sit apart retir'd.  If thou
Consentest, I to these will lead thy steps:
And thou wilt know them, not without delight."
     "How chances this?"  was answer'd;  "who so wish'd
To ascend by night, would he be thence debarr'd
By other, or through his own weakness fail?"
     The good Sordello then, along the ground
Trailing his finger, spoke: "Only this line
Thou shalt not overpass, soon as the sun
Hath disappear'd; not that aught else impedes
Thy going upwards, save the shades of night.
These with the wont of power perplex the will.
With them thou haply mightst return beneath,
Or to and fro around the mountain's side
Wander, while day is in the horizon shut."
     My master straight, as wond'ring at his speech,
Exclaim'd:  "Then lead us quickly, where thou sayst,
That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight."
     A little space we were remov'd from thence,
When I perceiv'd the mountain hollow'd out.
Ev'n as large valleys hollow'd out on earth,
     "That way," the' escorting spirit cried, "we go,
Where in a bosom the high bank recedes:
And thou await renewal of the day."
     Betwixt the steep and plain a crooked path
Led us traverse into the ridge's side,
Where more than half the sloping edge expires.
Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refin'd,
And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood
Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds
But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers
Plac'd in that fair recess, in color all
Had been surpass'd, as great surpasses less.
Nor nature only there lavish'd her hues,
But of the sweetness of a thousand smells
A rare and undistinguish'd fragrance made.
     "Salve Regina," on the grass and flowers
Here chanting I beheld those spirits sit
Who not beyond the valley could be seen.
     "Before the west'ring sun sink to his bed,"
Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn'd,
     "'Mid those desires not that I lead ye on.
For from this eminence ye shall discern
Better the acts and visages of all,
Than in the nether vale among them mix'd.
He, who sits high above the rest, and seems
To have neglected that he should have done,
And to the others' song moves not his lip,
The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal'd
The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,
So that by others she revives but slowly,
He, who with kindly visage comforts him,
Sway'd in that country, where the water springs,
That Moldaw's river to the Elbe, and Elbe
Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar his name:
Who in his swaddling clothes was of more worth
Than Winceslaus his son, a bearded man,
Pamper'd with rank luxuriousness and ease.
And that one with the nose depress, who close
In counsel seems with him of gentle look,
Flying expir'd, with'ring the lily's flower.
Look there how he doth knock against his breast!
The other ye behold, who for his cheek
Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent sighs.
They are the father and the father-in-law
Of Gallia's bane: his vicious life they know
And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus.
     "He, so robust of limb, who measure keeps
In song, with him of feature prominent,
With ev'ry virtue bore his girdle brac'd.
And if that stripling who behinds him sits,
King after him had liv'd, his virtue then
From vessel to like vessel had been pour'd;
Which may not of the other heirs be said.
By James and Frederick his realms are held;
Neither the better heritage obtains.
Rarely into the branches of the tree
Doth human worth mount up; and so ordains
He who bestows it, that as his free gift
It may be call'd.  To Charles my words apply
No less than to his brother in the song;
Which Pouille and Provence now with grief confess.
So much that plant degenerates from its seed,
As more than Beatrice and Margaret
Costanza still boasts of her valorous spouse.
     "Behold the king of simple life and plain,
Harry of England, sitting there alone:
He through his branches better issue spreads.
     "That one, who on the ground beneath the rest
Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft,
Us William, that brave Marquis, for whose cause
The deed of Alexandria and his war
Makes Conferrat and Canavese weep."
Now was the hour that wakens fond desire
In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart,
Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,
And pilgrim newly on his road with love
Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far,
That seems to mourn for the expiring day:
When I, no longer taking heed to hear
Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark
One risen from its seat, which with its hand
Audience implor'd. Both palms it join'd and rais'd,
Fixing its steadfast gaze towards the east,
As telling God, "I care for naught beside."
     "Te Lucis Ante," so devoutly then
Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain,
That all my sense in ravishment was lost.
And the rest after, softly and devout,
Follow'd through all the hymn, with upward gaze
Directed to the bright supernal wheels.
     Here, reader!  for the truth makes thine eyes keen:
For of so subtle texture is this veil,
That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark'd.
     I saw that gentle band silently next
Look up, as if in expectation held,
Pale and in lowly guise; and from on high
I saw forth issuing descend beneath
Two angels with two flame-illumin'd swords,
Broken and mutilated at their points.
Green as the tender leaves but newly born,
Their vesture was, the which by wings as green
Beaten, they drew behind them, fann'd in air.
A little over us one took his stand,
The other lighted on the' Opposing hill,
So that the troop were in the midst contain'd.
     Well I descried the whiteness on their heads;
But in their visages the dazzled eye
Was lost, as faculty that by too much
Is overpower'd.  "From Mary's bosom both
Are come," exclaim'd Sordello, "as a guard
Over the vale, ganst him, who hither tends,
The serpent."  Whence, not knowing by which path
He came, I turn'd me round, and closely press'd,
All frozen, to my leader's trusted side.
     Sordello paus'd not:  "To the valley now
(For it is time) let us descend; and hold
Converse with those great shadows: haply much
Their sight may please ye."  Only three steps down
Methinks I measur'd, ere I was beneath,
And noted one who look'd as with desire
To know me.  Time was now that air arrow dim;
Yet not so dim, that 'twixt his eyes and mine
It clear'd not up what was conceal'd before.
Mutually tow'rds each other we advanc'd.
Nino, thou courteous judge!  what joy I felt,
When I perceiv'd thou wert not with the bad!
     No salutation kind on either part
Was left unsaid.  He then inquir'd:  "How long
Since thou arrived'st at the mountain's foot,
Over the distant waves?" --"O!" answer'd I,
"Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came,
And still in my first life, thus journeying on,
The other strive to gain."  Soon as they heard
My words, he and Sordello backward drew,
As suddenly amaz'd.  To Virgil one,
The other to a spirit turn'd, who near
Was seated, crying:  "Conrad!  up with speed:
Come, see what of his grace high God hath will'd."
Then turning round to me:  "By that rare mark
Of honour which thou ow'st to him, who hides
So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford,
When thou shalt he beyond the vast of waves.
Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call
There, where reply to innocence is made.
Her mother, I believe, loves me no more;
Since she has chang'd the white and wimpled folds,
Which she is doom'd once more with grief to wish.
By her it easily may be perceiv'd,
How long in women lasts the flame of love,
If sight and touch do not relume it oft.
For her so fair a burial will not make
The viper which calls Milan to the field,
As had been made by shrill Gallura's bird."
     He spoke, and in his visage took the stamp
Of that right seal, which with due temperature
Glows in the bosom.  My insatiate eyes
Meanwhile to heav'n had travel'd, even there
Where the bright stars are slowest, as a wheel
Nearest the axle; when my guide inquir'd:
"What there aloft, my son, has caught thy gaze?"
     I answer'd:  "The three torches, with which here
The pole is all on fire. "He then to me:
"The four resplendent stars, thou saw'st this morn
Are there beneath, and these ris'n in their stead."
     While yet he spoke.  Sordello to himself
Drew him, and cry'd:  "Lo there our enemy!"
And with his hand pointed that way to look.
     Along the side, where barrier none arose
Around the little vale, a serpent lay,
Such haply as gave Eve the bitter food.
Between the grass and flowers, the evil snake
Came on, reverting oft his lifted head;
And, as a beast that smoothes its polish'd coat,
Licking his hack.  I saw not, nor can tell,
How those celestial falcons from their seat
Mov'd, but in motion each one well descried,
Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes.
The serpent fled; and to their stations back
The angels up return'd with equal flight.
     The Spirit (who to Nino, when he call'd,
Had come), from viewing me with fixed ken,
Through all that conflict, loosen'd not his sight.
     "So may the lamp, which leads thee up on high,
Find, in thy destin'd lot, of wax so much,
As may suffice thee to the enamel's height."
It thus began:  "If any certain news
Of Valdimagra and the neighbour part
Thou know'st, tell me, who once was mighty there
They call'd me Conrad Malaspina, not
That old one, but from him I sprang.  The love
I bore my people is now here refin'd."
     "In your dominions," I answer'd, "ne'er was I.
But through all Europe where do those men dwell,
To whom their glory is not manifest?
The fame, that honours your illustrious house,
Proclaims the nobles and proclaims the land;
So that he knows it who was never there.
I swear to you, so may my upward route
Prosper!  your honour'd nation not impairs
The value of her coffer and her sword.
Nature and use give her such privilege,
That while the world is twisted from his course
By a bad head, she only walks aright,
And has the evil way in scorn."  He then:
"Now pass thee on: sev'n times the tired sun
Revisits not the couch, which with four feet
The forked Aries covers, ere that kind
Opinion shall be nail'd into thy brain
With stronger nails than other's speech can drive,
If the sure course of judgment be not stay'd."
Now the fair consort of Tithonus old,
Arisen from her mate's beloved arms,
Look'd palely o'er the eastern cliff: her brow,
Lucent with jewels, glitter'd, set in sign
Of that chill animal, who with his train
Smites fearful nations: and where then we were,
Two steps of her ascent the night had past,
And now the third was closing up its wing,
When I, who had so much of Adam with me,
Sank down upon the grass, o'ercome with sleep,
There where all five were seated.  In that hour,
When near the dawn the swallow her sad lay,
Rememb'ring haply ancient grief, renews,
And with our minds more wand'rers from the flesh,
And less by thought restrain'd are, as 't were, full
Of holy divination in their dreams,
Then in a vision did I seem to view
A golden-feather'd eagle in the sky,
With open wings, and hov'ring for descent,
And I was in that place, methought, from whence
Young Ganymede, from his associates 'reft,
Was snatch'd aloft to the high consistory.
"Perhaps," thought I within me, "here alone
He strikes his quarry, and elsewhere disdains
To pounce upon the prey."  Therewith, it seem'd,
A little wheeling in his airy tour
Terrible as the lightning rush'd he down,
And snatch'd me upward even to the fire.
There both, I thought, the eagle and myself
Did burn; and so intense th' imagin'd flames,
That needs my sleep was broken off.  As erst
Achilles shook himself, and round him roll'd
His waken'd eyeballs wond'ring where he was,
Whenas his mother had from Chiron fled
To Scyros, with him sleeping in her arms;
E'en thus I shook me, soon as from my face
The slumber parted, turning deadly pale,
Like one ice-struck with dread.  Solo at my side
My comfort stood: and the bright sun was now
More than two hours aloft: and to the sea
My looks were turn'd.  "Fear not," my master cried,
"Assur'd we are at happy point.  Thy strength
Shrink not, but rise dilated.  Thou art come
To Purgatory now.  Lo! there the cliff
That circling bounds it!  Lo!  the entrance there,
Where it doth seem disparted!  Ere the dawn
Usher'd the daylight, when thy wearied soul
Slept in thee, o'er the flowery vale beneath
A lady came, and thus bespake me: "I
Am Lucia.  Suffer me to take this man,
Who slumbers.  Easier so his way shall speed."
Sordello and the other gentle shapes
Tarrying, she bare thee up: and, as day shone,
This summit reach'd: and I pursued her steps.
Here did she place thee.  First her lovely eyes
That open entrance show'd me; then at once
She vanish'd with thy sleep."  Like one, whose doubts
Are chas'd by certainty, and terror turn'd
To comfort on discovery of the truth,
Such was the change in me: and as my guide
Beheld me fearless, up along the cliff
He mov'd, and I behind him, towards the height.
     Reader!  thou markest how my theme doth rise,
Nor wonder therefore, if more artfully
I prop the structure!  Nearer now we drew,
Arriv'd' whence in that part, where first a breach
As of a wall appear'd, I could descry
A portal, and three steps beneath, that led
For inlet there, of different colour each,
And one who watch'd, but spake not yet a word.
As more and more mine eye did stretch its view,
I mark'd him seated on the highest step,
In visage such, as past my power to bear.
Grasp'd in his hand a naked sword, glanc'd back
The rays so toward me, that I oft in vain
My sight directed.  "Speak from whence ye stand:"
He cried:  "What would ye?  Where is your escort?
Take heed your coming upward harm ye not."
     "A heavenly dame, not skilless of these things,"
Replied the' instructor, "told us, even now,
'Pass that way: here the gate is." --"And may she
Befriending prosper your ascent," resum'd
The courteous keeper of the gate:  "Come then
Before our steps."  We straightway thither came.
     The lowest stair was marble white so smooth
And polish'd, that therein my mirror'd form
Distinct I saw.  The next of hue more dark
Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block,
Crack'd lengthwise and across.  The third, that lay
Massy above, seem'd porphyry, that flam'd
Red as the life-blood spouting from a vein.
On this God's angel either foot sustain'd,
Upon the threshold seated, which appear'd
A rock of diamond.  Up the trinal steps
My leader cheerily drew me.  "Ask," said he,
     "With humble heart, that he unbar the bolt."
     Piously at his holy feet devolv'd
I cast me, praying him for pity's sake
That he would open to me: but first fell
Thrice on my bosom prostrate.  Seven times0
The letter, that denotes the inward stain,
He on my forehead with the blunted point
Of his drawn sword inscrib'd.  And "Look," he cried,
"When enter'd, that thou wash these scars away."
     Ashes, or earth ta'en dry out of the ground,
Were of one colour with the robe he wore.
From underneath that vestment forth he drew
Two keys of metal twain: the one was gold,
Its fellow silver.  With the pallid first,
And next the burnish'd, he so ply'd the gate,
As to content me well.  "Whenever one
Faileth of these, that in the keyhole straight
It turn not, to this alley then expect
Access in vain."  Such were the words he spake.
"One is more precious: but the other needs
Skill and sagacity, large share of each,
Ere its good task to disengage the knot
Be worthily perform'd.  From Peter these
I hold, of him instructed, that I err
Rather in opening than in keeping fast;
So but the suppliant at my feet implore."
     Then of that hallow'd gate he thrust the door,
Exclaiming, "Enter, but this warning hear:
He forth again departs who looks behind."
     As in the hinges of that sacred ward
The swivels turn'd, sonorous metal strong,
Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily
Roar'd the Tarpeian, when by force bereft
Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss
To leanness doom'd.  Attentively I turn'd,
List'ning the thunder, that first issued forth;
And "We praise thee, O God," methought I heard
In accents blended with sweet melody.
The strains came o'er mine ear, e'en as the sound
Of choral voices, that in solemn chant
With organ mingle, and, now high and clear,
Come swelling, now float indistinct away.
When we had passed the threshold of the gate
(Which the soul's ill affection doth disuse,
Making the crooked seem the straighter path),
I heard its closing sound.  Had mine eyes turn'd,
For that offence what plea might have avail'd?
     We mounted up the riven rock, that wound
On either side alternate, as the wave
Flies and advances.  "Here some little art
Behooves us," said my leader, "that our steps
Observe the varying flexure of the path."
     Thus we so slowly sped, that with cleft orb
The moon once more o'erhangs her wat'ry couch,
Ere we that strait have threaded.  But when free
We came and open, where the mount above
One solid mass retires, I spent, with toil,
And both, uncertain of the way, we stood,
Upon a plain more lonesome, than the roads
That traverse desert wilds.  From whence the brink
Borders upon vacuity, to foot
Of the steep bank, that rises still, the space
Had measur'd thrice the stature of a man:
And, distant as mine eye could wing its flight,
To leftward now and now to right dispatch'd,
That cornice equal in extent appear'd.
     Not yet our feet had on that summit mov'd,
When I discover'd that the bank around,
Whose proud uprising all ascent denied,
Was marble white, and so exactly wrought
With quaintest sculpture, that not there alone
Had Polycletus, but e'en nature's self
Been sham'd.  The angel who came down to earth
With tidings of the peace so many years
Wept for in vain, that op'd the heavenly gates
From their long interdict) before us seem'd,
In a sweet act, so sculptur'd to the life,
He look'd no silent image. One had sworn
He had said, "Hail!" for she was imag'd there,
By whom the key did open to God's love,
And in her act as sensibly impress
That word, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord,"
As figure seal'd on wax.  "Fix not thy mind
On one place only," said the guide belov'd,
Who had me near him on that part where lies
The heart of man.  My sight forthwith I turn'd
And mark'd, behind the virgin mother's form,
Upon that side, where he, that mov'd me, stood,
Another story graven on the rock.
     I passed athwart the bard, and drew me near,
That it might stand more aptly for my view.
There in the self-same marble were engrav'd
The cart and kine, drawing the sacred ark,
That from unbidden office awes mankind.
Before it came much people; and the whole
Parted in seven quires.  One sense cried, "Nay,"
Another, "Yes, they sing."  Like doubt arose
Betwixt the eye and smell, from the curl'd fume
Of incense breathing up the well-wrought toil.
Preceding the blest vessel, onward came
With light dance leaping, girt in humble guise,
Sweet Israel's harper: in that hap he seem'd
Less and yet more than kingly.  Opposite,
At a great palace, from the lattice forth
Look'd Michol, like a lady full of scorn
And sorrow.  To behold the tablet next,
Which at the hack of Michol whitely shone,
I mov'd me.  There was storied on the rock
The' exalted glory of the Roman prince,
Whose mighty worth mov'd Gregory to earn
His mighty conquest, Trajan th' Emperor.
A widow at his bridle stood, attir'd
In tears and mourning.  Round about them troop'd
Full throng of knights, and overhead in gold
The eagles floated, struggling with the wind.
The wretch appear'd amid all these to say:
"Grant vengeance, sire!  for, woe beshrew this heart
My son is murder'd."  He replying seem'd;
     "Wait now till I return." And she, as one
Made hasty by her grief; "O sire, if thou
Dost not return?"--"Where I am, who then is,
May right thee."--" What to thee is other's good,
If thou neglect thy own?"--"Now comfort thee,"
At length he answers.  "It beseemeth well
My duty be perform'd, ere I move hence:
So justice wills; and pity bids me stay."
     He, whose ken nothing new surveys, produc'd
That visible speaking, new to us and strange
The like not found on earth.  Fondly I gaz'd
Upon those patterns of meek humbleness,
Shapes yet more precious for their artist's sake,
When "Lo," the poet whisper'd, "where this way
(But slack their pace), a multitude advance.
These to the lofty steps shall guide us on."
     Mine eyes, though bent on view of novel sights
Their lov'd allurement, were not slow to turn.
     Reader!  I would not that amaz'd thou miss
Of thy good purpose, hearing how just God
Decrees our debts be cancel'd.  Ponder not
The form of suff'ring.  Think on what succeeds,
Think that at worst beyond the mighty doom
It cannot pass.  "Instructor," I began,
"What I see hither tending, bears no trace
Of human semblance, nor of aught beside
That my foil'd sight can guess."  He answering thus:
"So courb'd to earth, beneath their heavy teems
Of torment stoop they, that mine eye at first
Struggled as thine.  But look intently thither,
An disentangle with thy lab'ring view,
What underneath those stones approacheth:  now,
E'en now, mayst thou discern the pangs of each."
     Christians and proud!  O poor and wretched ones!
That feeble in the mind's eye, lean your trust
Upon unstaid perverseness!  Know ye not
That we are worms, yet made at last to form
The winged insect, imp'd with angel plumes
That to heaven's justice unobstructed soars?
Why buoy ye up aloft your unfleg'd souls?
Abortive then and shapeless ye remain,
Like the untimely embryon of a worm!
     As, to support incumbent floor or roof,
For corbel is a figure sometimes seen,
That crumples up its knees unto its breast,
With the feign'd posture stirring ruth unfeign'd
In the beholder's fancy; so I saw
These fashion'd, when I noted well their guise.
     Each, as his back was laden, came indeed
Or more or less contract; but it appear'd
As he, who show'd most patience in his look,
Wailing exclaim'd:  "I can endure no more."
O thou Almighty Father, who dost make
The heavens thy dwelling, not in bounds confin'd,
But that with love intenser there thou view'st
Thy primal effluence, hallow'd be thy name:
Join each created being to extol
Thy might, for worthy humblest thanks and praise
Is thy blest Spirit.  May thy kingdom's peace
Come unto us; for we, unless it come,
With all our striving thither tend in vain.
As of their will the angels unto thee
Tender meet sacrifice, circling thy throne
With loud hosannas, so of theirs be done
By saintly men on earth.  Grant us this day
Our daily manna, without which he roams
Through this rough desert retrograde, who most
Toils to advance his steps.  As we to each
Pardon the evil done us, pardon thou
Benign, and of our merit take no count.
'Gainst the old adversary prove thou not
Our virtue easily subdu'd; but free
From his incitements and defeat his wiles.
This last petition, dearest Lord!  is made
Not for ourselves, since that were needless now,
But for their sakes who after us remain."
     Thus for themselves and us good speed imploring,
Those spirits went beneath a weight like that
We sometimes feel in dreams, all, sore beset,
But with unequal anguish, wearied all,
Round the first circuit, purging as they go,
The world's gross darkness off:  In our behalf
If there vows still be offer'd, what can here
For them be vow'd and done by such, whose wills
Have root of goodness in them?  Well beseems
That we should help them wash away the stains
They carried hence, that so made pure and light,
They may spring upward to the starry spheres.
     "Ah!  so may mercy-temper'd justice rid
Your burdens speedily, that ye have power
To stretch your wing, which e'en to your desire
Shall lift you, as ye show us on which hand
Toward the ladder leads the shortest way.
And if there be more passages than one,
Instruct us of that easiest to ascend;
For this man who comes with me, and bears yet
The charge of fleshly raiment Adam left him,
Despite his better will but slowly mounts."
From whom the answer came unto these words,
Which my guide spake, appear'd not; but 'twas said
     "Along the bank to rightward come with us,
And ye shall find a pass that mocks not toil
Of living man to climb: and were it not
That I am hinder'd by the rock, wherewith
This arrogant neck is tam'd, whence needs I stoop
My visage to the ground, him, who yet lives,
Whose name thou speak'st not him I fain would view.
To mark if e'er I knew him?  and to crave
His pity for the fardel that I bear.
I was of Latiun,  of a Tuscan horn
A mighty one:  Aldobranlesco's name
My sire's, I know not if ye e'er have heard.
My old blood and forefathers' gallant deeds
Made me so haughty, that I clean forgot
The common mother, and to such excess,
Wax'd in my scorn of all men, that I fell,
Fell therefore; by what fate Sienna's sons,
Each child in Campagnatico, can tell.
I am Omberto; not me only pride
Hath injur'd, but my kindred all involv'd
In mischief with her.  Here my lot ordains
Under this weight to groan, till I appease
God's angry justice, since I did it not
Amongst the living, here amongst the dead."
     List'ning I bent my visage down: and one
(Not he who spake) twisted beneath the weight
That urg'd him, saw me, knew me straight, and call'd,
Holding his eyes With difficulty fix'd
Intent upon me, stooping as I went
Companion of their way.  "O!"  I exclaim'd,
     "Art thou not Oderigi, art not thou
Agobbio's glory, glory of that art
Which they of Paris call the limmer's skill?"
     "Brother!" said he, "with tints that gayer smile,
Bolognian Franco's pencil lines the leaves.
His all the honour now; mine borrow'd light.
In truth I had not been thus courteous to him,
The whilst I liv'd, through eagerness of zeal
For that pre-eminence my heart was bent on.
Here of such pride the forfeiture is paid.
Nor were I even here; if, able still
To sin, I had not turn'd me unto God.
O powers of man!  how vain your glory, nipp'd
E'en in its height of verdure, if an age
Less bright succeed not!  Cimabue thought
To lord it over painting's field; and now
The cry is Giotto's, and his name eclips'd.
Thus hath one Guido from the other snatch'd
The letter'd prize: and he perhaps is born,
Who shall drive either from their nest.  The noise
Of worldly fame is but a blast of wind,
That blows from divers points, and shifts its name
Shifting the point it blows from.  Shalt thou more
Live in the mouths of mankind, if thy flesh
Part shrivel'd from thee, than if thou hadst died,
Before the coral and the pap were left,
Or ere some thousand years have passed? and that
Is, to eternity compar'd, a space,
Briefer than is the twinkling of an eye
To the heaven's slowest orb.  He there who treads
So leisurely before me, far and wide
Through Tuscany resounded once; and now
Is in Sienna scarce with whispers nam'd:
There was he sov'reign, when destruction caught
The madd'ning rage of Florence, in that day
Proud as she now is loathsome.  Your renown
Is as the herb, whose hue doth come and go,
And his might withers it, by whom it sprang
Crude from the lap of earth."  I thus to him:
"True are thy sayings: to my heart they breathe
The kindly spirit of meekness, and allay
What tumours rankle there.  But who is he
Of whom thou spak'st but now?" --"This," he replied,
"Is Provenzano.  He is here, because
He reach'd, with grasp presumptuous, at the sway
Of all Sienna.  Thus he still hath gone,
Thus goeth never-resting, since he died.
Such is th' acquittance render'd back of him,
Who, beyond measure, dar'd on earth."  I then:
"If soul that to the verge of life delays
Repentance, linger in that lower space,
Nor hither mount, unless good prayers befriend,
How chanc'd admittance was vouchsaf'd to him?"
     "When at his glory's topmost height," said he,
"Respect of dignity all cast aside,
Freely He fix'd him on Sienna's plain,
A suitor to  redeem his suff'ring friend,
Who languish'd in the prison-house of Charles,
Nor for his sake refus'd through every vein
To tremble.  More I will not say; and dark,
I know, my words are, but thy neighbours soon
Shall help thee to a comment on the text.
This is the work, that from these limits freed him."
With equal pace as oxen in the yoke,
I with that laden spirit journey'd on
Long as the mild instructor suffer'd me;
But when he bade me quit him, and proceed
(For "here," said he, "behooves with sail and oars
Each man, as best he may, push on his bark"),
Upright, as one dispos'd for speed, I rais'd
My body, still in thought submissive bow'd.
     I now my leader's track not loth pursued;
And each had shown how light we far'd along
When thus he warn'd me:  "Bend thine eyesight down:
For thou to ease the way shall find it good
To ruminate the bed beneath thy feet."
     As in memorial of the buried, drawn
Upon earth-level tombs, the sculptur'd form
Of what was once, appears (at sight whereof
Tears often stream forth by remembrance wak'd,
Whose sacred stings the piteous only feel),
So saw I there, but with more curious skill
Of portraiture o'erwrought, whate'er of space
From forth the mountain stretches.  On one part
Him I beheld, above all creatures erst
Created noblest, light'ning fall from heaven:
On th' other side with bolt celestial pierc'd
Briareus: cumb'ring earth he lay through dint
Of mortal ice-stroke.  The Thymbraean god
With Mars, I saw, and Pallas, round their sire,
Arm'd still, and gazing on the giant's limbs
Strewn o'er th' ethereal field.  Nimrod I saw:
At foot of the stupendous work he stood,
As if bewilder'd, looking on the crowd
Leagued in his proud attempt on Sennaar's plain.
     O Niobe!  in what a trance of woe
Thee I beheld, upon that highway drawn,
Sev'n sons on either side thee slain!  O Saul!
How ghastly didst thou look!  on thine own sword
Expiring in Gilboa, from that hour
Ne'er visited with rain from heav'n or dew!
     O fond Arachne!  thee I also saw
Half spider now in anguish crawling up
Th' unfinish'd web thou weaved'st to thy bane!
     O Rehoboam!  here thy shape doth seem
Louring no more defiance! but fear-smote
With none to chase him in his chariot whirl'd.
     Was shown beside upon the solid floor
How dear Alcmaeon forc'd his mother rate
That ornament in evil hour receiv'd:
How in the temple on Sennacherib fell
His sons, and how a corpse they left him there.
Was shown the scath and cruel mangling made
By Tomyris on Cyrus, when she cried:
"Blood thou didst thirst for, take thy fill of blood!"
Was shown how routed in the battle fled
Th' Assyrians, Holofernes slain, and e'en
The relics of the carnage.  Troy I mark'd
In ashes and in caverns.  Oh!  how fall'n,
How abject, Ilion, was thy semblance there!
     What master of the pencil or the style
Had trac'd the shades and lines, that might have made
The subtlest workman wonder?  Dead the dead,
The living seem'd alive; with clearer view
His eye beheld not who beheld the truth,
Than mine what I did tread on, while I went
Low bending.  Now swell out; and with stiff necks
Pass on, ye sons of Eve!  veil not your looks,
Lest they descry the evil of your path!
     I noted not (so busied was my thought)
How much we now had circled of the mount,
And of his course yet more the sun had spent,
When he, who with still wakeful caution went,
Admonish'd:  "Raise thou up thy head: for know
Time is not now for slow suspense.  Behold
That way an angel hasting towards us!  Lo
Where duly the sixth handmaid doth return
From service on the day.  Wear thou in look
And gesture seemly grace of reverent awe,
That gladly he may forward us aloft.
Consider that this day ne'er dawns again."
     Time's loss he had so often warn'd me 'gainst,
I could not miss the scope at which he aim'd.
     The goodly shape approach'd us, snowy white
In vesture, and with visage casting streams
Of tremulous lustre like the matin star.
His arms he open'd, then his wings; and spake:
"Onward: the steps, behold!  are near; and now
Th' ascent is without difficulty gain'd."
     A scanty few are they, who when they hear
Such tidings, hasten.  O ye race of men
Though born to soar, why suffer ye a wind
So slight to baffle ye?  He led us on
Where the rock parted; here against my front
Did beat his wings, then promis'd I should fare
In safety on my way.  As to ascend
That steep, upon whose brow the chapel stands
(O'er Rubaconte, looking lordly down
On the well-guided city,) up the right
Th' impetuous rise is broken by the steps
Carv'd in that old and simple age, when still
The registry and label rested safe;
Thus is th' acclivity reliev'd, which here
Precipitous from the other circuit falls:
But on each hand the tall cliff presses close.
     As ent'ring there we turn'd, voices, in strain
Ineffable, sang:  "Blessed are the poor
In spirit."  Ah how far unlike to these
The straits of hell; here songs to usher us,
There shrieks of woe!  We climb the holy stairs:
And lighter to myself by far I seem'd
Than on the plain before, whence thus I spake:
"Say, master, of what heavy thing have I
Been lighten'd, that scarce aught the sense of toil
Affects me journeying?"  He in few replied:
"When sin's broad characters, that yet remain
Upon thy temples, though well nigh effac'd,
Shall be, as one is, all clean razed out,
Then shall thy feet by heartiness of will
Be so o'ercome, they not alone shall feel
No sense of labour, but delight much more
Shall wait them urg'd along their upward way."
     Then like to one, upon whose head is plac'd
Somewhat he deems not of but from the becks
Of others as they pass him by; his hand
Lends therefore help to' assure him, searches, finds,
And well performs such office as the eye
Wants power to execute: so stretching forth
The fingers of my right hand, did I find
Six only of the letters, which his sword
Who bare the keys had trac'd upon my brow.
The leader, as he mark'd mine action, smil'd.
We reach'd the summit of the scale, and stood
Upon the second buttress of that mount
Which healeth him who climbs.  A cornice there,
Like to the former, girdles round the hill;
Save that its arch with sweep less ample bends.
     Shadow nor image there is seen; all smooth
The rampart and the path, reflecting nought
But the rock's sullen hue.  "If here we wait
For some to question," said the bard, "I fear
Our choice may haply meet too long delay."
     Then fixedly upon the sun his eyes
He fastn'd, made his right the central point
From whence to move, and turn'd the left aside.
"O pleasant light, my confidence and hope,
Conduct us thou," he cried, "on this new way,
Where now I venture, leading to the bourn
We seek.  The universal world to thee
Owes warmth and lustre.  If no other cause
Forbid, thy beams should ever be our guide."
     Far, as is measur'd for a mile on earth,
In brief space had we journey'd; such prompt will
Impell'd; and towards us flying, now were heard
Spirits invisible, who courteously
Unto love's table bade the welcome guest.
The voice, that first?  flew by, call'd forth aloud,
"They have no wine; " so on behind us past,
Those sounds reiterating, nor yet lost
In the faint distance, when another came
Crying, "I am Orestes," and alike
Wing'd its fleet way.  "Oh father!"  I exclaim'd,
"What tongues are these?"  and as I question'd, lo!
A third exclaiming, "Love ye those have wrong'd you."
     "This circuit," said my teacher, "knots the scourge
For envy, and the cords are therefore drawn
By charity's correcting hand.  The curb
Is of a harsher sound, as thou shalt hear
(If I deem rightly), ere thou reach the pass,
Where pardon sets them free.  But fix thine eyes
Intently through the air, and thou shalt see
A multitude before thee seated, each
Along the shelving grot."  Then more than erst
I op'd my eyes, before me view'd, and saw
Shadows with garments dark as was the rock;
And when we pass'd a little forth, I heard
A crying, "Blessed Mary! pray for us,
Michael and Peter!  all ye saintly host!"
     I do not think there walks on earth this day
Man so remorseless, that he hath not yearn'd
With pity at the sight that next I saw.
Mine eyes a load of sorrow teemed, when now
I stood so near them, that their semblances
Came clearly to my view.  Of sackcloth vile
Their cov'ring seem'd; and on his shoulder one
Did stay another, leaning, and all lean'd
Against the cliff.  E'en thus the blind and poor,
Near the confessionals, to crave an alms,
Stand, each his head upon his fellow's sunk,
So most to stir compassion, not by sound
Of words alone, but that, which moves not less,
The sight of mis'ry.  And as never beam
Of noonday visiteth the eyeless man,
E'en so was heav'n a niggard unto these
Of his fair light; for, through the orbs of all,
A thread of wire, impiercing, knits them up,
As for the taming of a haggard hawk.
     It were a wrong, methought, to pass and look
On others, yet myself the while unseen.
To my sage counsel therefore did I turn.
He knew the meaning of the mute appeal,
Nor waited for my questioning, but said:
"Speak; and be brief, be subtle in thy words."
     On that part of the cornice, whence no rim
Engarlands its steep fall, did Virgil come;
On the' other side me were the spirits, their cheeks
Bathing devout with penitential tears,
That through the dread impalement forc'd a way.
     I turn'd me to them, and "O shades!" said I,
     "Assur'd that to your eyes unveil'd shall shine
The lofty light, sole object of your wish,
So may heaven's grace clear whatsoe'er of foam
Floats turbid on the conscience, that thenceforth
The stream of mind roll limpid from its source,
As ye declare (for so shall ye impart
A boon I dearly prize) if any soul
Of Latium dwell among ye; and perchance
That soul may profit, if I learn so much."
     "My brother, we are each one citizens
Of one true city.  Any thou wouldst say,
Who lived a stranger in Italia's land."
     So heard I answering, as appeal'd, a voice
That onward came some space from whence I stood.
     A spirit I noted, in whose look was mark'd
Expectance.  Ask ye how?  The chin was rais'd
As in one reft of sight.  "Spirit," said I,
"Who for thy rise are tutoring (if thou be
That which didst answer to me,) or by place
Or name, disclose thyself, that I may know thee."
     "I was," it answer'd, "of Sienna:  here
I cleanse away with these the evil life,
Soliciting with tears that He, who is,
Vouchsafe him to us.  Though Sapia nam'd
In sapience I excell'd not, gladder far
Of others' hurt, than of the good befell me.
That thou mayst own I now deceive thee not,
Hear, if my folly were not as I speak it.
When now my years slop'd waning down the arch,
It so bechanc'd, my fellow citizens
Near Colle met their enemies in the field,
And I pray'd God to grant what He had will'd.
There were they vanquish'd, and betook themselves
Unto the bitter passages of flight.
I mark'd the hunt, and waxing out of bounds
In gladness, lifted up my shameless brow,
And like the merlin cheated by a gleam,
Cried, "It is over.  Heav'n!  I fear thee not."
Upon my verge of life I wish'd for peace
With God; nor repentance had supplied
What I did lack of duty, were it not
The hermit Piero, touch'd with charity,
In his devout orisons thought on me.
But who art thou that question'st of our state,
Who go'st to my belief, with lids unclos'd,
And breathest in thy talk?" --"Mine eyes," said I,
"May yet be here ta'en from me; but not long;
For they have not offended grievously
With envious glances.  But the woe beneath
Urges my soul with more exceeding dread.
That nether load already weighs me down."
     She thus:  "Who then amongst us here aloft
Hath brought thee, if thou weenest to return?"
     "He," answer'd I, "who standeth mute beside me.
I live: of me ask therefore, chosen spirit,
If thou desire I yonder yet should move
For thee my mortal feet." --"Oh!" she replied,
"This is so strange a thing, it is great sign
That God doth love thee.  Therefore with thy prayer
Sometime assist me: and by that I crave,
Which most thou covetest, that if thy feet
E'er tread on Tuscan soil, thou save my fame
Amongst my kindred.  Them shalt thou behold
With that vain multitude, who set their hope
On Telamone's haven, there to fail
Confounded, more shall when the fancied stream
They sought of Dian call'd:  but they who lead
Their navies, more than ruin'd hopes shall mourn."
"Say who is he around our mountain winds,
Or ever death has prun'd his wing for flight,
That opes his eyes and covers them at will?"
     "I know not who he is, but know thus much
He comes not singly.  Do thou ask of him,
For thou art nearer to him, and take heed
Accost him gently, so that he may speak."
     Thus on the right two Spirits bending each
Toward the other, talk'd of me, then both
Addressing me, their faces backward lean'd,
And thus the one began:  "O soul, who yet
Pent in the body, tendest towards the sky!
For charity, we pray thee' comfort us,
Recounting whence thou com'st, and who thou art:
For thou dost make us at the favour shown thee
Marvel, as at a thing that ne'er hath been."
     "There stretches through the midst of Tuscany,
I straight began: "a brooklet, whose well-head
Springs up in Falterona, with his race
Not satisfied, when he some hundred miles
Hath measur'd.  From his banks bring, I this frame.
To tell you who I am were words misspent:
For yet my name scarce sounds on rumour's lip."
     "If well I do incorp'rate with my thought
The meaning of thy speech," said he, who first
Addrest me, "thou dost speak of Arno's wave."
     To whom the other: "Why hath he conceal'd
The title of that river, as a man
Doth of some horrible thing?"  The spirit, who
Thereof was question'd, did acquit him thus:
"I know not: but 'tis fitting well the name
Should perish of that vale; for from the source
Where teems so plenteously the Alpine steep
Maim'd of Pelorus, (that doth scarcely pass
Beyond that limit,) even to the point
Whereunto ocean is restor'd, what heaven
Drains from th' exhaustless store for all earth's streams,
Throughout the space is virtue worried down,
As 'twere a snake, by all, for mortal foe,
Or through disastrous influence on the place,
Or else distortion of misguided wills,
That custom goads to evil: whence in those,
The dwellers in that miserable vale,
Nature is so transform'd, it seems as they
Had shar'd of Circe's feeding.  'Midst brute swine,
Worthier of acorns than of other food
Created for man's use, he shapeth first
His obscure way; then, sloping onward, finds
Curs, snarlers more in spite than power, from whom
He turns with scorn aside: still journeying down,
By how much more the curst and luckless foss
Swells out to largeness, e'en so much it finds
Dogs turning into wolves.  Descending still
Through yet more hollow eddies, next he meets
A race of foxes, so replete with craft,
They do not fear that skill can master it.
Nor will I cease because my words are heard
By other ears than thine.  It shall be well
For this man, if he keep in memory
What from no erring Spirit I reveal.
Lo!  I behold thy grandson, that becomes
A hunter of those wolves, upon the shore
Of the fierce stream, and cows them all with dread:
Their flesh yet living sets he up to sale,
Then like an aged beast to slaughter dooms.
Many of life he reaves, himself of worth
And goodly estimation.  Smear'd with gore
Mark how he issues from the rueful wood,
Leaving such havoc, that in thousand years
It spreads not to prime lustihood again."
     As one, who tidings hears of woe to come,
Changes his looks perturb'd, from whate'er part
The peril grasp him, so beheld I change
That spirit, who had turn'd to listen, struck
With sadness, soon as he had caught the word.
     His visage and the other's speech did raise
Desire in me to know the names of both,
whereof with meek entreaty I inquir'd.
     The shade, who late addrest me, thus resum'd:
"Thy wish imports that I vouchsafe to do
For thy sake what thou wilt not do for mine.
But since God's will is that so largely shine
His grace in thee, I will be liberal too.
Guido of Duca know then that I am.
Envy so parch'd my blood, that had I seen
A fellow man made joyous, thou hadst mark'd
A livid paleness overspread my cheek.
Such harvest reap I of the seed I sow'd.
O man, why place thy heart where there doth need
Exclusion of participants in good?
This is Rinieri's spirit, this the boast
And honour of the house of Calboli,
Where of his worth no heritage remains.
Nor his the only blood, that hath been stript
('twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore,)
Of all that truth or fancy asks for bliss;
But in those limits such a growth has sprung
Of rank and venom'd roots, as long would mock
Slow culture's toil.  Where is good Lizio?  where
Manardi, Traversalo, and Carpigna?
O bastard slips of old Romagna's line!
When in Bologna the low artisan,
And in Faenza yon Bernardin sprouts,
A gentle cyon from ignoble stem.
Wonder not, Tuscan, if thou see me weep,
When I recall to mind those once lov'd names,
Guido of Prata, and of Azzo him
That dwelt with you; Tignoso and his troop,
With Traversaro's house and Anastagio s,
(Each race disherited) and beside these,
The ladies and the knights, the toils and ease,
That witch'd us into love and courtesy;
Where now such malice reigns in recreant hearts.
O Brettinoro!  wherefore tarriest still,
Since forth of thee thy family hath gone,
And many, hating evil, join'd their steps?
Well doeth he, that bids his lineage cease,
Bagnacavallo; Castracaro ill,
And Conio worse, who care to propagate
A race of Counties from such blood as theirs.
Well shall ye also do, Pagani, then
When from amongst you tries your demon child.
Not so, howe'er, that henceforth there remain
True proof of what ye were.  O Hugolin!
Thou sprung of Fantolini's line!  thy name
Is safe, since none is look'd for after thee
To cloud its lustre, warping from thy stock.
But, Tuscan, go thy ways; for now I take
Far more delight in weeping than in words.
Such pity for your sakes hath wrung my heart."
     We knew those gentle spirits at parting heard
Our steps.  Their silence therefore of our way
Assur'd us.  Soon as we had quitted them,
Advancing onward, lo!  a voice that seem'd
Like vollied light'ning, when it rives the air,
Met us, and shouted, "Whosoever finds
Will slay me," then fled from us, as the bolt
Lanc'd sudden from a downward-rushing cloud.
When it had giv'n short truce unto our hearing,
Behold the other with a crash as loud
As the quick-following thunder: "Mark in me
Aglauros turn'd to rock."  I at the sound
Retreating drew more closely to my guide.
     Now in mute stillness rested all the air:
And thus he spake:  "There was the galling bit.
But your old enemy so baits his hook,
He drags you eager to him.  Hence nor curb
Avails you, nor reclaiming call.  Heav'n calls
And round about you wheeling courts your gaze
With everlasting beauties.  Yet your eye
Turns with fond doting still upon the earth.
Therefore He smites you who discerneth all."
As much as 'twixt the third hour's close and dawn,
Appeareth of heav'n's sphere, that ever whirls
As restless as an infant in his play,
So much appear'd remaining to the sun
Of his slope journey towards the western goal.
     Evening was there, and here the noon of night;
and full upon our forehead smote the beams.
For  round the mountain, circling, so our path
Had led us, that toward the sun-set now
Direct we journey'd: when I felt a weight
Of more exceeding splendour, than before,
Press on my front.  The cause unknown, amaze
Possess'd me, and both hands against my brow
Lifting, I interpos'd them, as a screen,
That of its gorgeous superflux of light
Clipp'd the diminish'd orb. As when the ray,
Striking On water or the surface clear
Of mirror, leaps unto the opposite part,
Ascending at a glance, e'en as it fell,
(And so much differs from the stone, that falls
Through equal space, as practice skill hath shown;
Thus with refracted light before me seemed
The ground there smitten; whence in sudden haste
My sight recoil'd.  "What is this, sire belov'd!
'Gainst which I strive to shield the sight in vain?"
Cried I, "and which towards us moving seems?"
     "Marvel not, if the family of heav'n,"
He answer'd, "yet with dazzling radiance dim
Thy sense it is a messenger who comes,
Inviting man's ascent.  Such sights ere long,
Not grievous, shall impart to thee delight,
As thy perception is by nature wrought
Up to their pitch."  The blessed angel, soon
As we had reach'd him, hail'd us with glad voice:
"Here enter on a ladder far less steep
Than ye have yet encounter'd."  We forthwith
Ascending, heard behind us chanted sweet,
"Blessed the merciful," and "happy thou!
That conquer'st."  Lonely each, my guide and I
Pursued our upward way; and as we went,
Some profit from his words I hop'd to win,
And thus of him inquiring, fram'd my speech:
     "What meant Romagna's spirit, when he spake
Of bliss exclusive with no partner shar'd?"
     He straight replied: "No wonder, since he knows,
What sorrow waits on his own worst defect,
If he chide others, that they less may mourn.
Because ye point your wishes at a mark,
Where, by communion of possessors, part
Is lessen'd, envy bloweth up the sighs of men.
No fear of that might touch ye, if the love
Of higher sphere exalted your desire.
For there, by how much more they call it ours,
So much propriety of each in good
Increases more, and heighten'd charity
Wraps that fair cloister in a brighter flame."
     "Now lack I satisfaction more," said I,
"Than if thou hadst been silent at the first,
And doubt more gathers on my lab'ring thought.
How can it chance, that good distributed,
The many, that possess it, makes more rich,
Than if 't were shar'd by few?"  He answering thus:
"Thy mind, reverting still to things of earth,
Strikes darkness from true light.  The highest good
Unlimited, ineffable, doth so speed
To love, as beam to lucid body darts,
Giving as much of ardour as it finds.
The sempiternal effluence streams abroad
Spreading, wherever charity extends.
So that the more aspirants to that bliss
Are multiplied, more good is there to love,
And more is lov'd; as mirrors, that reflect,
Each unto other, propagated light.
If these my words avail not to allay
Thy thirsting, Beatrice thou shalt see,
Who of this want, and of all else thou hast,
Shall rid thee to the full.  Provide but thou
That from thy temples may be soon eras'd,
E'en as the two already, those five scars,
That when they pain thee worst, then kindliest heal,"
     "Thou," I had said, "content'st me," when I saw
The other round was gain'd, and wond'ring eyes
Did keep me mute.  There suddenly I seem'd
By an ecstatic vision wrapt away;
And in a temple saw, methought, a crowd
Of many persons; and at th' entrance stood
A dame, whose sweet demeanour did express
A mother's love, who said, "Child!  why hast thou
Dealt with us thus?  Behold thy sire and I
Sorrowing have sought thee;" and so held her peace,
And straight the vision fled.  A female next
Appear'd before me, down whose visage cours'd
Those waters, that grief forces out from one
By deep resentment stung, who seem'd to say:
"If thou, Pisistratus, be lord indeed
Over this city, nam'd with such debate
Of adverse gods, and whence each science sparkles,
Avenge thee of those arms, whose bold embrace
Hath clasp'd our daughter; "and to fuel, meseem'd,
Benign and meek, with visage undisturb'd,
Her sovran spake:  "How shall we those requite,
Who wish us evil, if we thus condemn
The man that loves us?"  After that I saw
A multitude, in fury burning, slay
With stones a stripling youth, and shout amain
"Destroy, destroy: "and him I saw, who bow'd
Heavy with death unto the ground, yet made
His eyes, unfolded upward, gates to heav'n,
Praying forgiveness of th' Almighty Sire,
Amidst that cruel conflict, on his foes,
With looks, that With compassion to their aim.
     Soon as my spirit, from her airy flight
Returning, sought again the things, whose truth
Depends not on her shaping, I observ'd
How she had rov'd to no unreal scenes
     Meanwhile the leader, who might see I mov'd,
As one, who struggles to shake off his sleep,
Exclaim'd:  "What ails thee, that thou canst not hold
Thy footing firm, but more than half a league
Hast travel'd with clos'd eyes and tott'ring gait,
Like to a man by wine or sleep o'ercharg'd?"
     "Beloved father!  so thou deign," said I,
"To listen, I will tell thee what appear'd
Before me, when so fail'd my sinking steps."
     He thus: "Not if thy Countenance were mask'd
With hundred vizards, could a thought of thine
How small soe'er, elude me.  What thou saw'st
Was shown, that freely thou mightst ope thy heart
To the waters of peace, that flow diffus'd
From their eternal fountain.  I not ask'd,
What ails thee?  for such cause as he doth, who
Looks only with that eye which sees no more,
When spiritless the body lies; but ask'd,
To give fresh vigour to thy foot.  Such goads
The slow and loit'ring need; that they be found
Not wanting, when their hour of watch returns."
     So on we journey'd through the evening sky
Gazing intent, far onward, as our eyes
With level view could stretch against the bright
Vespertine ray: and lo!  by slow degrees
Gath'ring, a fog made tow'rds us, dark as night.
There was no room for 'scaping; and that mist
Bereft us, both of sight and the pure air.
Hell's dunnest gloom, or night unlustrous, dark,
Of every planes 'reft, and pall'd in clouds,
Did never spread before the sight a veil
In thickness like that fog, nor to the sense
So palpable and gross.  Ent'ring its shade,
Mine eye endured not with unclosed lids;
Which marking, near me drew the faithful guide,
Offering me his shoulder for a stay.
     As the blind man behind his leader walks,
Lest he should err, or stumble unawares
On what might harm him, or perhaps destroy,
I journey'd through that bitter air and foul,
Still list'ning to my escort's warning voice,
"Look that from me thou part not."  Straight I heard
Voices, and each one seem'd to pray for peace,
And for compassion, to the Lamb of God
That taketh sins away.  Their prelude still
Was "Agnus Dei," and through all the choir,
One voice, one measure ran, that perfect seem'd
The concord of their song.  "Are these I hear
Spirits, O master?"  I exclaim'd; and he:
"Thou aim'st aright: these loose the bonds of wrath."
     "Now who art thou, that through our smoke dost cleave?
And speak'st of us, as thou thyself e'en yet
Dividest time by calends?"  So one voice
Bespake me; whence my master said: "Reply;
And ask, if upward hence the passage lead."
     "O being!  who dost make thee pure, to stand
Beautiful once more in thy Maker's sight!
Along with me: and thou shalt hear and wonder."
Thus I, whereto the spirit answering spake:
"Long as 't is lawful for me, shall my steps
Follow on thine; and since the cloudy smoke
Forbids the seeing, hearing in its stead
Shall keep us join'd."  I then forthwith began
"Yet in my mortal swathing, I ascend
To higher regions, and am hither come
Through the fearful agony of hell.
And, if so largely God hath doled his grace,
That, clean beside all modern precedent,
He wills me to behold his kingly state,
From me conceal not who thou wast, ere death
Had loos'd thee; but instruct me: and instruct
If rightly to the pass I tend; thy words
The way directing as a safe escort."
     "I was of Lombardy, and Marco call'd:
Not inexperienc'd of the world, that worth
I still affected, from which all have turn'd
The nerveless bow aside.  Thy course tends right
Unto the summit:" and, replying thus,
He added, "I beseech thee pray for me,
When thou shalt come aloft."  And I to him:
"Accept my faith for pledge I will perform
What thou requirest.  Yet one doubt remains,
That wrings me sorely, if I solve it not,
Singly before it urg'd me, doubled now
By thine opinion, when I couple that
With one elsewhere declar'd, each strength'ning other.
The world indeed is even so forlorn
Of all good as thou speak'st it and so swarms
With every evil.  Yet, beseech thee, point
The cause out to me, that myself may see,
And unto others show it: for in heaven
One places it, and one on earth below."
     Then heaving forth a deep and audible sigh,
"Brother!" he thus began, "the world is blind;
And thou in truth com'st from it.  Ye, who live,
Do so each cause refer to heav'n above,
E'en as its motion of necessity
Drew with it all that moves.  If this were so,
Free choice in you were none; nor justice would
There should be joy for virtue, woe for ill.
Your movements have their primal bent from heaven;
Not all; yet said I all; what then ensues?
Light have ye still to follow evil or good,
And of the will free power, which, if it stand
Firm and unwearied in Heav'n's first assay,
Conquers at last, so it be cherish'd well,
Triumphant over all.  To mightier force,
To better nature subject, ye abide
Free, not constrain'd by that, which forms in you
The reasoning mind uninfluenc'd of the stars.
If then the present race of mankind err,
Seek in yourselves the cause, and find it there.
Herein thou shalt confess me no false spy.
     "Forth from his plastic hand, who charm'd beholds
Her image ere she yet exist, the soul
Comes like a babe, that wantons sportively
Weeping and laughing in its wayward moods,
As artless and as ignorant of aught,
Save that her Maker being one who dwells
With gladness ever, willingly she turns
To whate'er yields her joy.  Of some slight good
The flavour soon she tastes; and, snar'd by that,
With fondness she pursues it, if no guide
Recall, no rein direct her wand'ring course.
Hence it behov'd, the law should be a curb;
A sovereign hence behov'd, whose piercing view
Might mark at least the fortress and main tower
Of the true city.  Laws indeed there are:
But who is he observes them?  None; not he,
Who goes before, the shepherd of the flock,
Who chews the cud but doth not cleave the hoof.
Therefore the multitude, who see their guide
Strike at the very good they covet most,
Feed there and look no further.  Thus the cause
Is not corrupted nature in yourselves,
But ill-conducting, that hath turn'd the world
To evil.  Rome, that turn'd it unto good,
Was wont to boast two suns, whose several beams
Cast light on either way, the world's and God's.
One since hath quench'd the other; and the sword
Is grafted on the crook; and so conjoin'd
Each must perforce decline to worse, unaw'd
By fear of other.  If thou doubt me, mark
The blade: each herb is judg'd of by its seed.
That land, through which Adice and the Po
Their waters roll, was once the residence
Of courtesy and velour, ere the day,
That frown'd on Frederick; now secure may pass
Those limits, whosoe'er hath left, for shame,
To talk with good men, or come near their haunts.
Three aged ones are still found there, in whom
The old time chides the new: these deem it long
Ere God restore them to a better world:
The good Gherardo, of Palazzo he
Conrad, and Guido of Castello, nam'd
In Gallic phrase more fitly the plain Lombard.
On this at last conclude.  The church of Rome,
Mixing two governments that ill assort,
Hath miss'd her footing, fall'n into the mire,
And there herself and burden much defil'd."
     "O Marco!" I replied, shine arguments
Convince me: and the cause I now discern
Why of the heritage no portion came
To Levi's offspring.  But resolve me this
Who that Gherardo is, that as thou sayst
Is left a sample of the perish'd race,
And for rebuke to this untoward age?"
     "Either thy words," said he, "deceive; or else
Are meant to try me; that thou, speaking Tuscan,
Appear'st not to have heard of good Gherado;
The sole addition that, by which I know him;
Unless I borrow'd from his daughter Gaia
Another name to grace him.  God be with you.
I bear you company no more.  Behold
The dawn with white ray glimm'ring through the mist.
I must away--the angel comes--ere he
Appear."  He said, and would not hear me more.
Call to remembrance, reader, if thou e'er
Hast, on a mountain top, been ta'en by cloud,
Through which thou saw'st no better, than the mole
Doth through opacous membrane; then, whene'er
The wat'ry vapours dense began to melt
Into thin air, how faintly the sun's sphere
Seem'd wading through them; so thy nimble thought
May image, how at first I re-beheld
The sun, that bedward now his couch o'erhung.
     Thus with my leader's feet still equaling pace
From forth that cloud I came, when now expir'd
The parting beams from off the nether shores.
     O quick and forgetive power!  that sometimes dost
So rob us of ourselves, we take no mark
Though round about us thousand trumpets clang!
What moves thee, if the senses stir not?  Light
Kindled in heav'n, spontaneous, self-inform'd,
Or likelier gliding down with swift illapse
By will divine.  Portray'd before me came
The traces of her dire impiety,
Whose form was chang'd into the bird, that most
Delights itself in song: and here my mind
Was inwardly so wrapt, it gave no place
To aught that ask'd admittance from without.
     Next shower'd into my fantasy a shape
As of one crucified, whose visage spake
Fell rancour, malice deep, wherein he died;
And round him Ahasuerus the great king,
Esther his bride, and Mordecai the just,
Blameless in word and deed.  As of itself
That unsubstantial coinage of the brain
Burst, like a bubble, Which the water fails
That fed it; in my vision straight uprose
A damsel weeping loud, and cried, "O queen!
O mother!  wherefore has intemperate ire
Driv'n thee to loath thy being?  Not to lose
Lavinia, desp'rate thou hast slain thyself.
Now hast thou lost me.  I am she, whose tears
Mourn, ere I fall, a mother's timeless end."
     E'en as a sleep breaks off, if suddenly
New radiance strike upon the closed lids,
The broken slumber quivering ere it dies;
Thus from before me sunk that imagery
Vanishing, soon as on my face there struck
The light, outshining far our earthly beam.
As round I turn'd me to survey what place
I had arriv'd at, "Here ye mount," exclaim'd
A voice, that other purpose left me none,
Save will so eager to behold who spake,
I could not choose but gaze.  As 'fore the sun,
That weighs our vision down, and veils his form
In light transcendent, thus my virtue fail'd
Unequal.  "This is Spirit from above,
Who marshals us our upward way, unsought;
And in his own light shrouds him;. As a man
Doth for himself, so now is done for us.
For whoso waits imploring, yet sees need
Of his prompt aidance, sets himself prepar'd
For blunt denial, ere the suit be made.
Refuse we not to lend a ready foot
At such inviting: haste we to ascend,
Before it darken: for we may not then,
Till morn again return."  So spake my guide;
And to one ladder both address'd our steps;
And the first stair approaching, I perceiv'd
Near me as 'twere the waving of a wing,
That fann'd my face and whisper'd: "Blessed they
The peacemakers: they know not evil wrath."
     Now to such height above our heads were rais'd
The last beams, follow'd close by hooded night,
That many a star on all sides through the gloom
Shone out.  "Why partest from me, O my strength?"
So with myself I commun'd; for I felt
My o'ertoil'd sinews slacken.  We had reach'd
The summit, and were fix'd like to a bark
Arriv'd at land.  And waiting a short space,
If aught should meet mine ear in that new round,
Then to my guide I turn'd, and said: "Lov'd sire!
Declare what guilt is on this circle purg'd.
If our feet rest, no need thy speech should pause."
     He thus to me:  "The love of good, whate'er
Wanted of just proportion, here fulfils.
Here plies afresh the oar, that loiter'd ill.
But that thou mayst yet clearlier understand,
Give ear unto my words, and thou shalt cull
Some fruit may please thee well, from this delay.
     "Creator, nor created being, ne'er,
My son," he thus began, "was without love,
Or natural, or the free spirit's growth.
Thou hast not that to learn.  The natural still
Is without error; but the other swerves,
If on ill object bent, or through excess
Of vigour, or defect.  While e'er it seeks
The primal blessings, or with measure due
Th' inferior, no delight, that flows from it,
Partakes of ill.  But let it warp to evil,
Or with more ardour than behooves, or less.
Pursue the good, the thing created then
Works 'gainst its Maker.  Hence thou must infer
That love is germin of each virtue in ye,
And of each act no less, that merits pain.
Now since it may not be, but love intend
The welfare mainly of the thing it loves,
All from self-hatred are secure; and since
No being can be thought t' exist apart
And independent of the first, a bar
Of equal force restrains from hating that.
     "Grant the distinction just; and it remains
The' evil must be another's, which is lov'd.
Three ways such love is gender'd in your clay.
There is who hopes (his neighbour's worth deprest,)
Preeminence himself, and coverts hence
For his own greatness that another fall.
There is who so much fears the loss of power,
Fame, favour, glory (should his fellow mount
Above him), and so sickens at the thought,
He loves their opposite: and there is he,
Whom wrong or insult seems to gall and shame
That he doth thirst for vengeance, and such needs
Must doat on other's evil.  Here beneath
This threefold love is mourn'd.  Of th' other sort
Be now instructed, that which follows good
But with disorder'd and irregular course.
     "All indistinctly apprehend a bliss
On which the soul may rest, the hearts of all
Yearn after it, and to that wished bourn
All therefore strive to tend.  If ye behold
Or seek it with a love remiss and lax,
This cornice after just repenting lays
Its penal torment on ye.  Other good
There is, where man finds not his happiness:
It is not true fruition, not that blest
Essence, of every good the branch and root.
The love too lavishly bestow'd on this,
Along three circles over us, is mourn'd.
Account of that division tripartite
Expect not, fitter for thine own research.
The teacher ended, and his high discourse
Concluding, earnest in my looks inquir'd
If I appear'd content; and I, whom still
Unsated thirst to hear him urg'd, was mute,
Mute outwardly, yet inwardly I said:
"Perchance my too much questioning offends
But he, true father, mark'd the secret wish
By diffidence restrain'd, and speaking, gave
Me boldness thus to speak: "Master, my Sight
Gathers so lively virtue from thy beams,
That all, thy words convey, distinct is seen.
Wherefore I pray thee, father, whom this heart
Holds dearest!  thou wouldst deign by proof t' unfold
That love, from which as from their source thou bring'st
All good deeds and their opposite."  He then:
"To what I now disclose be thy clear ken
Directed, and thou plainly shalt behold
How much those blind have err'd, who make themselves
The guides of men.  The soul, created apt
To love, moves versatile which way soe'er
Aught pleasing prompts her, soon as she is wak'd
By pleasure into act.  Of substance true
Your apprehension forms its counterfeit,
And in you the ideal shape presenting
Attracts the soul's regard.  If she, thus drawn,
incline toward it, love is that inclining,
And a new nature knit by pleasure in ye.
Then as the fire points up, and mounting seeks
His birth-place and his lasting seat, e'en thus
Enters the captive soul into desire,
Which is a spiritual motion, that ne'er rests
Before enjoyment of the thing it loves.
Enough to show thee, how the truth from those
Is hidden, who aver all love a thing
Praise-worthy in itself: although perhaps
Its substance seem still good.  Yet if the wax
Be good, it follows not th' impression must."
"What love is," I return'd, "thy words, O guide!
And my own docile mind, reveal.  Yet thence
New doubts have sprung.  For from without if love
Be offer'd to us, and the spirit knows
No other footing, tend she right or wrong,
Is no desert of hers."  He answering thus:
"What reason here discovers I have power
To show thee: that which lies beyond, expect
From Beatrice, faith not reason's task.
Spirit, substantial form, with matter join'd
Not in confusion mix'd, hath in itself
Specific virtue of that union born,
Which is not felt except it work, nor prov'd
But through effect, as vegetable life
By the green leaf.  From whence his intellect
Deduced its primal notices of things,
Man therefore knows not, or his appetites
Their first affections; such in you, as zeal
In bees to gather honey; at the first,
Volition, meriting nor blame nor praise.
But o'er each lower faculty supreme,
That as she list are summon'd to her bar,
Ye have that virtue in you, whose just voice
Uttereth counsel, and whose word should keep
The threshold of assent.  Here is the source,
Whence cause of merit in you is deriv'd,
E'en as the affections good or ill she takes,
Or severs, winnow'd as the chaff.  Those men
Who reas'ning went to depth profoundest, mark'd
That innate freedom, and were thence induc'd
To leave their moral teaching to the world.
Grant then, that from necessity arise
All love that glows within you; to dismiss
Or harbour it, the pow'r is in yourselves.
Remember, Beatrice, in her style,
Denominates free choice by eminence
The noble virtue, if in talk with thee
She touch upon that theme."  The moon, well nigh
To midnight hour belated, made the stars
Appear to wink and fade; and her broad disk
Seem'd like a crag on fire, as up the vault
That course she journey'd, which the sun then warms,
When they of Rome behold him at his set.
Betwixt Sardinia and the Corsic isle.
And now the weight, that hung upon my thought,
Was lighten'd by the aid of that clear spirit,
Who raiseth Andes above Mantua's name.
I therefore, when my questions had obtain'd
Solution plain and ample, stood as one
Musing in dreary slumber; but not long
Slumber'd; for suddenly a multitude,
The steep already turning, from behind,
Rush'd on.  With fury and like random rout,
As echoing on their shores at midnight heard
Ismenus and Asopus, for his Thebes
If Bacchus' help were needed; so came these
Tumultuous, curving each his rapid step,
By eagerness impell'd of holy love.
     Soon they o'ertook us; with such swiftness mov'd
The mighty crowd.  Two spirits at their head
Cried weeping; "Blessed Mary sought with haste
The hilly region.  Caesar to subdue
Ilerda, darted in Marseilles his sting,
And flew to Spain."--"Oh tarry not: away;"
The others shouted; "let not time be lost
Through slackness of affection.  Hearty zeal
To serve reanimates celestial grace."
     "O ye, in whom intenser fervency
Haply supplies, where lukewarm erst ye fail'd,
Slow or neglectful, to absolve your part
Of good and virtuous, this man, who yet lives,
(Credit my tale, though strange) desires t' ascend,
So morning rise to light us.  Therefore say
Which hand leads nearest to the rifted rock?"
     So spake my guide, to whom a shade return'd:
"Come after us, and thou shalt find the cleft.
We may not linger: such resistless will
Speeds our unwearied course.  Vouchsafe us then
Thy pardon, if our duty seem to thee
Discourteous rudeness.  In Verona I
Was abbot of San Zeno, when the hand
Of Barbarossa grasp'd Imperial sway,
That name, ne'er utter'd without tears in Milan.
And there is he, hath one foot in his grave,
Who for that monastery ere long shall weep,
Ruing his power misus'd: for that his son,
Of body ill compact, and worse in mind,
And born in evil, he hath set in place
Of its true pastor."  Whether more he spake,
Or here was mute, I know not: he had sped
E'en now so far beyond us.  Yet thus much
I heard, and in rememb'rance treasur'd it.
     He then, who never fail'd me at my need,
Cried, "Hither turn.  Lo!  two with sharp remorse
Chiding their sin!"  In rear of all the troop
These shouted:  "First they died, to whom the sea
Open'd, or ever Jordan saw his heirs:
And they, who with Aeneas to the end
Endur'd not suffering, for their portion chose
Life without glory."  Soon as they had fled
Past reach of sight, new thought within me rose
By others follow'd fast, and each unlike
Its fellow: till led on from thought to thought,
And pleasur'd with the fleeting train, mine eye
Was clos'd, and meditation chang'd to dream.
It was the hour, when of diurnal heat
No reliques chafe the cold beams of the moon,
O'erpower'd by earth, or planetary sway
Of Saturn; and the geomancer sees
His Greater Fortune up the east ascend,
Where gray dawn checkers first the shadowy cone;
When 'fore me in my dream a woman's shape
There came, with lips that stammer'd, eyes aslant,
Distorted feet, hands maim'd, and colour pale.
     I look'd upon her; and as sunshine cheers
Limbs numb'd by nightly cold, e'en thus my look
Unloos'd her tongue, next in brief space her form
Decrepit rais'd erect, and faded face
With love's own hue illum'd. Recov'ring speech
She forthwith warbling such a strain began,
That I, how loth soe'er, could scarce have held
Attention from the song.  "I," thus she sang,
"I am the Siren, she, whom mariners
On the wide sea are wilder'd when they hear:
Such fulness of delight the list'ner feels.
I from his course Ulysses by my lay
Enchanted drew.  Whoe'er frequents me once
Parts seldom; so I charm him, and his heart
Contented knows no void."  Or ere her mouth
Was clos'd, to shame her at her side appear'd
A dame of semblance holy.  With stern voice
She utter'd; "Say, O Virgil, who is this?"
Which hearing, he approach'd, with eyes still bent
Toward that goodly presence: th' other seiz'd her,
And, her robes tearing, open'd her before,
And show'd the belly to me, whence a smell,
Exhaling loathsome, wak'd me.  Round I turn'd
Mine eyes, and thus the teacher:  "At the least
Three times my voice hath call'd thee.  Rise, begone.
Let us the opening find where thou mayst pass."
     I straightway rose.  Now day, pour'd down from high,
Fill'd all the circuits of the sacred mount;
And, as we journey'd, on our shoulder smote
The early ray.  I follow'd, stooping low
My forehead, as a man, o'ercharg'd with thought,
Who bends him to the likeness of an arch,
That midway spans the flood; when thus I heard,
"Come, enter here," in tone so soft and mild,
As never met the ear on mortal strand.
     With swan-like wings dispread and pointing up,
Who thus had spoken marshal'd us along,
Where each side of the solid masonry
The sloping, walls retir'd; then mov'd his plumes,
And fanning us, affirm'd that those, who mourn,
Are blessed, for that comfort shall be theirs.
     "What aileth thee, that still thou look'st to earth?"
Began my leader; while th' angelic shape
A little over us his station took.
     "New vision," I replied, "hath rais'd in me
8urmisings strange and anxious doubts, whereon
My soul intent allows no other thought
Or room or entrance.--"Hast thou seen," said he,
"That old enchantress, her, whose wiles alone
The spirits o'er us weep for?  Hast thou seen
How man may free him of her bonds?  Enough.
Let thy heels spurn the earth, and thy rais'd ken
Fix on the lure, which heav'n's eternal King
Whirls in the rolling spheres."  As on his feet
The falcon first looks down, then to the sky
Turns, and forth stretches eager for the food,
That woos him thither; so the call I heard,
So onward, far as the dividing rock
Gave way, I journey'd, till the plain was reach'd.
     On the fifth circle when I stood at large,
A race appear'd before me, on the ground
All downward lying prone and weeping sore.
"My soul hath cleaved to the dust," I heard
With sighs so deep, they well nigh choak'd the words.
"O ye elect of God, whose penal woes
Both hope and justice mitigate, direct
Tow'rds the steep rising our uncertain way."
     "If ye approach secure from this our doom,
Prostration--and would urge your course with speed,
See that ye still to rightward keep the brink."
     So them the bard besought; and such the words,
Beyond us some short space, in answer came.
     I noted what remain'd yet hidden from them:
Thence to my liege's eyes mine eyes I bent,
And he, forthwith interpreting their suit,
Beckon'd his glad assent. Free then to act,
As pleas'd me, I drew near, and took my stand
O`er that shade, whose words I late had mark'd.
And, "Spirit!"  I said, "in whom repentant tears
Mature that blessed hour, when thou with God
Shalt find acceptance, for a while suspend
For me that mightier care.  Say who thou wast,
Why thus ye grovel on your bellies prone,
And if in aught ye wish my service there,
Whence living I am come."  He answering spake
"The cause why Heav'n our back toward his cope
Reverses, shalt thou know: but me know first
The successor of Peter, and the name
And title of my lineage from that stream,
That' twixt Chiaveri and Siestri draws
His limpid waters through the lowly glen.
A month and little more by proof I learnt,
With what a weight that robe of sov'reignty
Upon his shoulder rests, who from the mire
Would guard it: that each other fardel seems
But feathers in the balance.  Late, alas!
Was my conversion: but when I became
Rome's pastor, I discern'd at once the dream
And cozenage of life, saw that the heart
Rested not there, and yet no prouder height
Lur'd on the climber: wherefore, of that life
No more enamour'd, in my bosom love
Of purer being kindled.  For till then
I was a soul in misery, alienate
From God, and covetous of all earthly things;
Now, as thou seest, here punish'd for my doting.
Such cleansing from the taint of avarice
Do spirits converted need.  This mount inflicts
No direr penalty.  E'en as our eyes
Fasten'd below, nor e'er to loftier clime
Were lifted, thus hath justice level'd us
Here on the earth.  As avarice quench'd our love
Of good, without which is no working, thus
Here justice holds us prison'd, hand and foot
Chain'd down and bound, while heaven's just Lord shall please.
So long to tarry motionless outstretch'd."
     My knees I stoop'd, and would have spoke; but he,
Ere my beginning, by his ear perceiv'd
I did him reverence; and "What cause," said he,
"Hath bow'd thee thus!"--" Compunction," I rejoin'd.
"And inward awe of your high dignity."
     "Up," he exclaim'd, "brother!  upon thy feet
Arise: err not: thy fellow servant I,
(Thine and all others') of one Sovran Power.
If thou hast ever mark'd those holy sounds
Of gospel truth, 'nor shall be given ill marriage,'
Thou mayst discern the reasons of my speech.
Go thy ways now; and linger here no more.
Thy tarrying is a let unto the tears,
With which I hasten that whereof thou spak'st.
I have on earth a kinswoman; her name
Alagia, worthy in herself, so ill
Example of our house corrupt her not:
And she is all remaineth of me there."
Ill strives the will, 'gainst will more wise that strives
His pleasure therefore to mine own preferr'd,
I drew the sponge yet thirsty from the wave.
     Onward I mov'd: he also onward mov'd,
Who led me, coasting still, wherever place
Along the rock was vacant, as a man
Walks near the battlements on narrow wall.
For those on th' other part, who drop by drop
Wring out their all-infecting malady,
Too closely press the verge.  Accurst be thou!
Inveterate wolf!  whose gorge ingluts more prey,
Than every beast beside, yet is not fill'd!
So bottomless thy maw!  --Ye spheres of heaven!
To whom there are, as seems, who attribute
All change in mortal state, when is the day
Of his appearing, for whom fate reserves
To chase her hence?  --With wary steps and slow
We pass'd; and I attentive to the shades,
Whom piteously I heard lament and wail;
And, 'midst the wailing, one before us heard
Cry out "O blessed Virgin!"  as a dame
In the sharp pangs of childbed; and "How poor
Thou wast," it added, "witness that low roof
Where thou didst lay thy sacred burden down.
O good Fabricius!  thou didst virtue choose
With poverty, before great wealth with vice."
     The words so pleas'd me, that desire to know
The spirit, from whose lip they seem'd to come,
Did draw me onward.  Yet it spake the gift
Of Nicholas, which on the maidens he
Bounteous bestow'd, to save their youthful prime
Unblemish'd.  "Spirit!  who dost speak of deeds
So worthy, tell me who thou was," I said,
"And why thou dost with single voice renew
Memorial of such praise. That boon vouchsaf'd
Haply shall meet reward; if I return
To finish the Short pilgrimage of life,
Still speeding to its close on restless wing."
     "I," answer'd he, "will tell thee, not for hell,
Which thence I look for; but that in thyself
Grace so exceeding shines, before thy time
Of mortal dissolution.  I was root
Of that ill plant, whose shade such poison sheds
O'er all the Christian land, that seldom thence
Good fruit is gather'd.  Vengeance soon should come,
Had Ghent and Douay, Lille and Bruges power;
And vengeance I of heav'n's great Judge implore.
Hugh Capet was I high: from me descend
The Philips and the Louis, of whom France
Newly is govern'd; born of one, who ply'd
The slaughterer's trade at Paris.  When the race
Of ancient kings had vanish'd (all save one
Wrapt up in sable weeds) within my gripe
I found the reins of empire, and such powers
Of new acquirement, with full store of friends,
That soon the widow'd circlet of the crown
Was girt upon the temples of my son,
He, from whose bones th' anointed race begins.
Till the great dower of Provence had remov'd
The stains, that yet obscur'd our lowly blood,
Its sway indeed was narrow, but howe'er
It wrought no evil: there, with force and lies,
Began its rapine; after, for amends,
Poitou it seiz'd, Navarre and Gascony.
To Italy came Charles, and for amends
Young Conradine an innocent victim slew,
And sent th' angelic teacher back to heav'n,
Still for amends.  I see the time at hand,
That forth from France invites another Charles
To make himself and kindred better known.
Unarm'd he issues, saving with that lance,
Which the arch-traitor tilted with; and that
He carries with so home a thrust, as rives
The bowels of poor Florence.  No increase
Of territory hence, but sin and shame
Shall be his guerdon, and so much the more
As he more lightly deems of such foul wrong.
I see the other, who a prisoner late
Had steps on shore, exposing to the mart
His daughter, whom he bargains for, as do
The Corsairs for their slaves.  O avarice!
What canst thou more, who hast subdued our blood
So wholly to thyself, they feel no care
Of their own flesh?  To hide with direr guilt
Past ill and future, lo!  the flower-de-luce
Enters Alagna!  in his Vicar Christ
Himself a captive, and his mockery
Acted again! Lo!  to his holy lip
The vinegar and gall once more applied!
And he 'twixt living robbers doom'd to bleed!
Lo!  the new Pilate, of whose cruelty
Such violence cannot fill the measure up,
With no degree to sanction, pushes on
Into the temple his yet eager sails!
     "O sovran Master!  when shall I rejoice
To see the vengeance, which thy wrath well-pleas'd
In secret silence broods?--While daylight lasts,
So long what thou didst hear of her, sole spouse
Of the Great Spirit, and on which thou turn'dst
To me for comment, is the general theme
Of all our prayers: but when it darkens, then
A different strain we utter, then record
Pygmalion, whom his gluttonous thirst of gold
Made traitor, robber, parricide: the woes
Of Midas, which his greedy wish ensued,
Mark'd for derision to all future times:
And the fond Achan, how he stole the prey,
That yet he seems by Joshua's ire pursued.
Sapphira with her husband next, we blame;
And praise the forefeet, that with furious ramp
Spurn'd Heliodorus.  All the mountain round
Rings with the infamy of Thracia's king,
Who slew his Phrygian charge: and last a shout
Ascends:  "Declare, O Crassus!  for thou know'st,
The flavour of thy gold."  The voice of each
Now high now low, as each his impulse prompts,
Is led through many a pitch, acute or grave.
Therefore, not singly, I erewhile rehears'd
That blessedness we tell of in the day:
But near me none beside his accent rais'd."
     From him we now had parted, and essay'd
With utmost efforts to surmount the way,
When I did feel, as nodding to its fall,
The mountain tremble; whence an icy chill
Seiz'd on me, as on one to death convey'd.
So shook not Delos, when Latona there
Couch'd to bring forth the twin-born eyes of heaven.
     Forthwith from every side a shout arose
So vehement, that suddenly my guide
Drew near, and cried: "Doubt not, while I conduct thee."
"Glory!" all shouted (such the sounds mine ear
Gather'd from those, who near me swell'd the sounds)
"Glory in the highest be to God."  We stood
Immovably suspended, like to those,
The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem's field
That song: till ceas'd the trembling, and the song
Was ended: then our hallow'd path resum'd,
Eying the prostrate shadows, who renew'd
Their custom'd mourning.  Never in my breast
Did ignorance so struggle with desire
Of knowledge, if my memory do not err,
As in that moment; nor through haste dar'd I
To question, nor myself could aught discern,
So on I far'd in thoughtfulness and dread.
The natural thirst, ne'er quench'd but from the well,
Whereof the woman of Samaria crav'd,
Excited: haste along the cumber'd path,
After my guide, impell'd; and pity mov'd
My bosom for the 'vengeful deed, though just.
When lo!  even as Luke relates, that Christ
Appear'd unto the two upon their way,
New-risen from his vaulted grave; to us
A shade appear'd, and after us approach'd,
Contemplating the crowd beneath its feet.
We were not ware of it; so first it spake,
Saying, "God give you peace, my brethren!" then
Sudden we turn'd: and Virgil such salute,
As fitted that kind greeting, gave, and cried:
"Peace in the blessed council be thy lot
Awarded by that righteous court, which me
To everlasting banishment exiles!"
     "How!" he exclaim'd, nor from his speed meanwhile
Desisting, "If that ye be spirits, whom God
Vouchsafes not room above, who up the height
Has been thus far your guide?"  To whom the bard:
"If thou observe the tokens, which this man
Trac'd by the finger of the angel bears,
'Tis plain that in the kingdom of the just
He needs must share.  But sithence she, whose wheel
Spins day and night, for him not yet had drawn
That yarn, which, on the fatal distaff pil'd,
Clotho apportions to each wight that breathes,
His soul, that sister is to mine and thine,
Not of herself could mount, for not like ours
Her ken: whence I, from forth the ample gulf
Of hell was ta'en, to lead him, and will lead
Far as my lore avails.  But, if thou know,
Instruct us for what cause, the mount erewhile
Thus shook and trembled: wherefore all at once
Seem'd shouting, even from his wave-wash'd foot."
     That questioning so tallied with my wish,
The thirst did feel abatement of its edge
E'en from expectance.  He forthwith replied,
"In its devotion nought irregular
This mount can witness, or by punctual rule
Unsanction'd; here from every change exempt.
Other than that, which heaven in itself
Doth of itself receive, no influence
Can reach us.  Tempest none, shower, hail or snow,
Hoar frost or dewy moistness, higher falls
Than that brief scale of threefold steps: thick clouds
Nor scudding rack are ever seen: swift glance
Ne'er lightens, nor Thaumantian Iris gleams,
That yonder often shift on each side heav'n.
Vapour adust doth never mount above
The highest of the trinal stairs, whereon
Peter's vicegerent stands.  Lower perchance,
With various motion rock'd, trembles the soil:
But here, through wind in earth's deep hollow pent,
I know not how, yet never trembled: then
Trembles, when any spirit feels itself
So purified, that it may rise, or move
For rising, and such loud acclaim ensues.
Purification by the will alone
Is prov'd, that free to change society
Seizes the soul rejoicing in her will.
Desire of bliss is present from the first;
But strong propension hinders, to that wish
By the just ordinance of heav'n oppos'd;
Propension now as eager to fulfil
Th' allotted torment, as erewhile to sin.
And I who in this punishment had lain
Five hundred years and more, but now have felt
Free wish for happier clime.  Therefore thou felt'st
The mountain tremble, and the spirits devout
Heard'st, over all his limits, utter praise
To that liege Lord, whom I entreat their joy
To hasten."  Thus he spake: and since the draught
Is grateful ever as the thirst is keen,
No words may speak my fullness of content.
     "Now," said the instructor sage, "I see the net
That takes ye here, and how the toils are loos'd,
Why rocks the mountain and why ye rejoice.
Vouchsafe, that from thy lips I next may learn,
Who on the earth thou wast, and wherefore here
So many an age wert prostrate." --"In that time,
When the good Titus, with Heav'n's King to help,
Aveng'd those piteous gashes, whence the blood
By Judas sold did issue, with the name
Most lasting and most honour'd there was I
Abundantly renown'd," the shade reply'd,
"Not yet with faith endued.  So passing sweet
My vocal Spirit, from Tolosa, Rome
To herself drew me, where I merited
A myrtle garland to inwreathe my brow.
Statius they name me still.  Of Thebes I sang,
And next of great Achilles: but i' th' way
Fell with the second burthen.  Of my flame
Those sparkles were the seeds, which I deriv'd
From the bright fountain of celestial fire
That feeds unnumber'd lamps, the song I mean
Which sounds Aeneas' wand'rings: that the breast
I hung at, that the nurse, from whom my veins
Drank inspiration: whose authority
Was ever sacred with me.  To have liv'd
Coeval with the Mantuan, I would bide
The revolution of another sun
Beyond my stated years in banishment."
     The Mantuan, when he heard him, turn'd to me,
And holding silence: by his countenance
Enjoin'd me silence but the power which wills,
Bears not supreme control: laughter and tears
Follow so closely on the passion prompts them,
They wait not for the motions of the will
In natures most sincere.  I did but smile,
As one who winks; and thereupon the shade
Broke off, and peer'd into mine eyes, where best
Our looks interpret. "So to good event
Mayst thou conduct such great emprize," he cried,
"Say, why across thy visage beam'd, but now,
The lightning of a smile!"  On either part
Now am I straiten'd; one conjures me speak,
Th' other to silence binds me: whence a sigh
I utter, and the sigh is heard.  "Speak on; "
The teacher cried;  "and do not fear to speak,
But tell him what so earnestly he asks."
Whereon I thus:  "Perchance, O ancient spirit!
Thou marvel'st at my smiling. There is room
For yet more wonder.  He who guides my ken
On high, he is that Mantuan, led by whom
Thou didst presume of men arid gods to sing.
If other cause thou deem'dst for which I smil'd,
Leave it as not the true one; and believe
Those words, thou spak'st of him, indeed the cause."
     Now down he bent t' embrace my teacher's feet;
But he forbade him:  "Brother!  do it not:
Thou art a shadow, and behold'st a shade."
He rising answer'd thus:  "Now hast thou prov'd
The force and ardour of the love I bear thee,
When I forget we are but things of air,
And as a substance treat an empty shade."
Now we had left the angel, who had turn'd
To the sixth circle our ascending step,
One gash from off my forehead raz'd: while they,
Whose wishes tend to justice, shouted forth:
"Blessed!"  and ended with, "I thirst:" and I,
More nimble than along the other straits,
So journey'd, that, without the sense of toil,
I follow'd upward the swift-footed shades;
When Virgil thus began:  "Let its pure flame
From virtue flow, and love can never fail
To warm another's bosom' so the light
Shine manifestly forth.  Hence from that hour,
When 'mongst us in the purlieus of the deep,
Came down the spirit of Aquinum's hard,
Who told of thine affection, my good will
Hath been for thee of quality as strong
As ever link'd itself to one not seen.
Therefore these stairs will now seem short to me.
But tell me: and if too secure I loose
The rein with a friend's license, as a friend
Forgive me, and speak now as with a friend:
How chanc'd it covetous desire could find
Place in that bosom, 'midst such ample store
Of wisdom, as thy zeal had treasur'd there?"
     First somewhat mov'd to laughter by his words,
Statius replied: "Each syllable of thine
Is a dear pledge of love.  Things oft appear
That minister false matters to our doubts,
When their true causes are remov'd from sight.
Thy question doth assure me, thou believ'st
I was on earth a covetous man, perhaps
Because thou found'st me in that circle plac'd.
Know then I was too wide of avarice:
And e'en for that excess, thousands of moons
Have wax'd and wan'd upon my sufferings.
And were it not that I with heedful care
Noted where thou exclaim'st as if in ire
With human nature, 'Why, thou cursed thirst
Of gold!  dost not with juster measure guide
The appetite of mortals?'  I had met
The fierce encounter of the voluble rock.
Then was I ware that with too ample wing
The hands may haste to lavishment, and turn'd,
As from my other evil, so from this
In penitence.  How many from their grave
Shall with shorn locks arise, who living, aye
And at life's last extreme, of this offence,
Through ignorance, did not repent.  And know,
The fault which lies direct from any sin
In level opposition, here With that
Wastes its green rankness on one common heap.
Therefore if I have been with those, who wail
Their avarice, to cleanse me, through reverse
Of their transgression, such hath been my lot."
     To whom the sovran of the pastoral song:
"While thou didst sing that cruel warfare wag'd
By the twin sorrow of Jocasta's womb,
From thy discourse with Clio there, it seems
As faith had not been shine: without the which
Good deeds suffice not.  And if so, what sun
Rose on thee, or what candle pierc'd the dark
That thou didst after see to hoist the sail,
And follow, where the fisherman had led?"
     He answering thus: "By thee conducted first,
I enter'd the Parnassian grots, and quaff'd
Of the clear spring; illumin'd first by thee
Open'd mine eyes to God.  Thou didst, as one,
Who, journeying through the darkness, hears a light
Behind, that profits not himself, but makes
His followers wise, when thou exclaimedst, 'Lo!
A renovated world!  Justice return'd!
Times of primeval innocence restor'd!
And a new race descended from above!'
Poet and Christian both to thee I owed.
That thou mayst mark more clearly what I trace,
My hand shall stretch forth to inform the lines
With livelier colouring.  Soon o'er all the world,
By messengers from heav'n, the true belief
Teem'd now prolific, and that word of thine
Accordant, to the new instructors chim'd.
Induc'd by which agreement, I was wont
Resort to them; and soon their sanctity
So won upon me, that, Domitian's rage
Pursuing them, I mix'd my tears with theirs,
And, while on earth I stay'd, still succour'd them;
And their most righteous customs made me scorn
All sects besides.  Before I led the Greeks
In tuneful fiction, to the streams of Thebes,
I was baptiz'd; but secretly, through fear,
Remain'd a Christian, and conform'd long time
To Pagan rites.  Five centuries and more,
T for that lukewarmness was fain to pace
Round the fourth circle.  Thou then, who hast rais'd
The covering, which did hide such blessing from me,
Whilst much of this ascent is yet to climb,
Say, if thou know, where our old Terence bides,
Caecilius, Plautus, Varro: if condemn'd
They dwell, and in what province of the deep."
"These," said my guide, "with Persius and myself,
And others many more, are with that Greek,
Of mortals, the most cherish'd by the Nine,
In the first ward of darkness.  There ofttimes
We of that mount hold converse, on whose top
For aye our nurses live.  We have the bard
Of Pella, and the Teian, Agatho,
Simonides, and many a Grecian else
Ingarlanded with laurel.  Of thy train
Antigone is there, Deiphile,
Argia, and as sorrowful as erst
Ismene, and who show'd Langia's wave:
Deidamia with her sisters there,
And blind Tiresias' daughter, and the bride
Sea-born of Peleus."  Either poet now
Was silent, and no longer by th' ascent
Or the steep walls obstructed, round them cast
Inquiring eyes.  Four handmaids of the day
Had finish'd now their office, and the fifth
Was at the chariot-beam, directing still
Its balmy point aloof, when thus my guide:
"Methinks, it well behooves us to the brink
Bend the right shoulder' circuiting the mount,
As we have ever us'd."  So custom there
Was usher to the road, the which we chose
Less doubtful, as that worthy shade complied.
     They on before me went; I sole pursued,
List'ning their speech, that to my thoughts convey'd
Mysterious lessons of sweet poesy.
But soon they ceas'd; for midway of the road
A tree we found, with goodly fruitage hung,
And pleasant to the smell: and as a fir
Upward from bough to bough less ample spreads,
So downward this less ample spread, that none.
Methinks, aloft may climb.  Upon the side,
That clos'd our path, a liquid crystal fell
From the steep rock, and through the sprays above
Stream'd showering.  With associate step the bards
Drew near the plant; and from amidst the leaves
A voice was heard:  "Ye shall be chary of me;"
And after added: "Mary took more thought
For joy and honour of the nuptial feast,
Than for herself who answers now for you.
The women of old Rome were satisfied
With water for their beverage.  Daniel fed
On pulse, and wisdom gain'd.  The primal age
Was beautiful as gold; and hunger then
Made acorns tasteful, thirst each rivulet
Run nectar.  Honey and locusts were the food,
Whereon the Baptist in the wilderness
Fed, and that eminence of glory reach'd
And greatness, which the' Evangelist records."
On the green leaf mine eyes were fix'd, like his
Who throws away his days in idle chase
Of the diminutive, when thus I heard
The more than father warn me: "Son!  our time
Asks thriftier using.  Linger not: away."
     Thereat my face and steps at once I turn'd
Toward the sages, by whose converse cheer'd
I journey'd on, and felt no toil: and lo!
A sound of weeping and a song: "My lips,
O Lord!" and these so mingled, it gave birth
To pleasure and to pain.  "O Sire, belov'd!
Say what is this I hear?"  Thus I inquir'd.
     "Spirits," said he, "who as they go, perchance,
Their debt of duty pay."  As on their road
The thoughtful pilgrims, overtaking some
Not known unto them, turn to them, and look,
But stay not; thus, approaching from behind
With speedier motion, eyed us, as they pass'd,
A crowd of spirits, silent and devout.
The eyes of each were dark and hollow: pale
Their visage, and so lean withal, the bones
Stood staring thro' the skin.  I do not think
Thus dry and meagre Erisicthon show'd,
When pinc'ed by sharp-set famine to the quick.
     "Lo!" to myself I mus'd, "the race, who lost
Jerusalem, when Mary with dire beak
Prey'd on her child."  The sockets seem'd as rings,
From which the gems were drops.  Who reads the name
Of man upon his forehead, there the M
Had trac'd most plainly.  Who would deem, that scent
Of water and an apple, could have prov'd
Powerful to generate such pining want,
Not knowing how it wrought?  While now I stood
Wond'ring what thus could waste them (for the cause
Of their gaunt hollowness and scaly rind
Appear'd not) lo!  a spirit turn'd his eyes
In their deep-sunken cell, and fasten'd then
On me, then cried with vehemence aloud:
"What grace is this vouchsaf'd me?"  By his looks
I ne'er had recogniz'd him: but the voice
Brought to my knowledge what his cheer conceal'd.
Remembrance of his alter'd lineaments
Was kindled from that spark; and I agniz'd
The visage of Forese.  "Ah! respect
This wan and leprous wither'd skin," thus he
Suppliant implor'd, "this macerated flesh.
Speak to me truly of thyself.  And who
Are those twain spirits, that escort thee there?
Be it not said thou Scorn'st to talk with me."
     "That face of thine," I answer'd him, "which dead
I once bewail'd, disposes me not less
For weeping, when I see It thus transform'd.
Say then, by Heav'n, what blasts ye thus?  The whilst
I wonder, ask not Speech from me:  unapt
Is he to speak, whom other will employs.
     He thus:  "The water and tee plant we pass'd,
Virtue possesses, by th' eternal will
Infus'd, the which so pines me.  Every spirit,
Whose song bewails his gluttony indulg'd
Too grossly, here in hunger and in thirst
Is purified.  The odour, which the fruit,
And spray, that showers upon the verdure, breathe,
Inflames us with desire to feed and drink.
Nor once alone encompassing our route
We come to add fresh fuel to the pain:
Pain, said I?  solace rather: for that will
To the tree leads us, by which Christ was led
To call Elias, joyful when he paid
Our ransom from his vein."  I answering thus:
"Forese!  from that day, in which the world
For better life thou changedst, not five years
Have circled.  If the power of sinning more
Were first concluded in thee, ere thou knew'st
That kindly grief, which re-espouses us
To God, how hither art thou come so soon?
I thought to find thee lower, there, where time
Is recompense for time."  He straight replied:
"To drink up the sweet wormwood of affliction
I have been brought thus early by the tears
Stream'd down my Nella's cheeks.  Her prayers devout,
Her sighs have drawn me from the coast, where oft
Expectance lingers, and have set me free
From th' other circles.  In the sight of God
So much the dearer is my widow priz'd,
She whom I lov'd so fondly, as she ranks
More singly eminent for virtuous deeds.
The tract most barb'rous of Sardinia's isle,
Hath dames more chaste and modester by far
Than that wherein I left her.  O sweet brother!
What wouldst thou have me say?  A time to come
Stands full within my view, to which this hour
Shall not be counted of an ancient date,
When from the pulpit shall be loudly warn'd
Th' unblushing dames of Florence, lest they bare
Unkerchief'd bosoms to the common gaze.
What savage women hath the world e'er seen,
What Saracens, for whom there needed scourge
Of spiritual or other discipline,
To force them walk with cov'ring on their limbs!
But did they see, the shameless ones, that Heav'n
Wafts on swift wing toward them, while I speak,
Their mouths were op'd for howling: they shall taste
Of Borrow (unless foresight cheat me here)
Or ere the cheek of him be cloth'd with down
Who is now rock'd with lullaby asleep.
Ah!  now, my brother, hide thyself no more,
Thou seest how not I alone but all
Gaze, where thou veil'st the intercepted sun."
     Whence I replied: "If thou recall to mind
What we were once together, even yet
Remembrance of those days may grieve thee sore.
That I forsook that life, was due to him
Who there precedes me, some few evenings past,
When she was round, who shines with sister lamp
To his, that glisters yonder," and I show'd
The sun.  "Tis he, who through profoundest night
Of he true dead has brought me, with this flesh
As true, that follows.  From that gloom the aid
Of his sure comfort drew me on to climb,
And climbing wind along this mountain-steep,
Which rectifies in you whate'er the world
Made crooked and deprav'd I have his word,
That he will bear me company as far
As till I come where Beatrice dwells:
But there must leave me.  Virgil is that spirit,
Who thus hath promis'd,"  and I pointed to him;
"The other is that shade, for whom so late
Your realm, as he arose, exulting shook
Through every pendent cliff and rocky bound."
Our journey was not slacken'd by our talk,
Nor yet our talk by journeying.  Still we spake,
And urg'd our travel stoutly, like a ship
When the wind sits astern.  The shadowy forms,
That seem'd things dead and dead again, drew in
At their deep-delved orbs rare wonder of me,
Perceiving I had life; and I my words
Continued, and thus spake; "He journeys up
Perhaps more tardily then else he would,
For others' sake.  But tell me, if thou know'st,
Where is Piccarda?  Tell me, if I see
Any of mark, among this multitude,
Who eye me thus."--"My sister (she for whom,
'Twixt beautiful and good I cannot say
Which name was fitter ) wears e'en now her crown,
And triumphs in Olympus."  Saying this,
He added: "Since spare diet hath so worn
Our semblance out, 't is lawful here to name
Each one .   This," and his finger then he rais'd,
"Is Buonaggiuna,--Buonaggiuna, he
Of Lucca: and that face beyond him, pierc'd
Unto a leaner fineness than the rest,
Had keeping of the church: he was of Tours,
And purges by wan abstinence away
Bolsena's eels and cups of muscadel."
     He show'd me many others, one by one,
And all, as they were nam'd, seem'd well content;
For no dark gesture I discern'd in any.
I saw through hunger Ubaldino grind
His teeth on emptiness; and Boniface,
That wav'd the crozier o'er a num'rous flock.
I saw the Marquis, who tad time erewhile
To swill at Forli with less drought, yet so
Was one ne'er sated.  I howe'er, like him,
That gazing 'midst a crowd, singles out one,
So singled him of Lucca; for methought
Was none amongst them took such note of me.
Somewhat I heard him whisper of Gentucca:
The sound was indistinct, and murmur'd there,
Where justice, that so strips them, fix'd her sting.
     "Spirit!" said I, "it seems as thou wouldst fain
Speak with me.  Let me hear thee.  Mutual wish
To converse prompts, which let us both indulge."
     He, answ'ring, straight began: "Woman is born,
Whose brow no wimple shades yet, that shall make
My city please thee, blame it as they may.
Go then with this forewarning.  If aught false
My whisper too implied, th' event shall tell
But say, if of a  truth I see the man
Of that new lay th' inventor, which begins
With 'Ladies, ye that con the lore of love'."
     To whom I thus:  "Count of me but as one
Who am the scribe of love; that, when he breathes,
Take up my pen, and, as he dictates, write."
     "Brother!" said he, "the hind'rance which once held
The notary with Guittone and myself,
Short of that new and sweeter style I hear,
Is now disclos'd.  I see how ye your plumes
Stretch, as th' inditer guides them; which, no question,
Ours did not.  He that seeks a grace beyond,
Sees not the distance parts one style from other."
And, as contented, here he held his peace.
     Like as the bird, that winter near the Nile,
In squared regiment direct their course,
Then stretch themselves in file for speedier flight;
Thus all the tribe of spirits, as they turn'd
Their visage, faster deaf, nimble alike
Through leanness and desire.  And as a man,
Tir'd With the motion of a trotting steed,
Slacks pace, and stays behind his company,
Till his o'erbreathed lungs keep temperate time;
E'en so Forese let that holy crew
Proceed, behind them lingering at my side,
And saying: "When shall I again behold thee?"
     "How long my life may last," said I, "I know not;
This know, how soon soever I return,
My wishes will before me have arriv'd.
Sithence the place, where I am set to live,
Is, day by day, more scoop'd of all its good,
And dismal ruin seems to threaten it."
     "Go now," he cried:  "lo!  he, whose guilt is most,
Passes before my vision, dragg'd at heels
Of an infuriate beast.  Toward the vale,
Where guilt hath no redemption, on it speeds,
Each step increasing swiftness on the last;
Until a blow it strikes, that leaveth him
A corse most vilely shatter'd.  No long space
Those wheels have yet to roll"  (therewith his eyes
Look'd up to heav'n) "ere thou shalt plainly see
That which my words may not more plainly tell.
I quit thee: time is precious here: I lose
Too much, thus measuring my pace with shine."
     As from a troop of well-rank'd chivalry
One knight, more enterprising than the rest,
Pricks forth at gallop, eager to display
His prowess in the first encounter prov'd
So parted he from us with lengthen'd strides,
And left me on the way with those twain spirits,
Who were such mighty marshals of the world.
     When he beyond us had so fled mine eyes
No nearer reach'd him, than my thought his words,
The branches of another fruit, thick hung,
And blooming fresh, appear'd.  E'en as our steps
Turn'd thither, not far off it rose to view.
Beneath it were a multitude, that rais'd
Their hands, and shouted forth I know not What
Unto the boughs; like greedy and fond brats,
That beg, and answer none obtain from him,
Of whom they beg; but more to draw them on,
He at arm's length the object of their wish
Above them holds aloft, and hides it not.
     At length, as undeceiv'd they went their way:
And we approach the tree, who vows and tears
Sue to in vain, the mighty tree.  "Pass on,
And come not near.  Stands higher up the wood,
Whereof Eve tasted, and from it was ta'en
'this plant." Such sounds from midst the thickets came.
Whence I, with either bard, close to the side
That rose, pass'd forth beyond.  "Remember," next
We heard, "those noblest creatures of the clouds,
How they their twofold bosoms overgorg'd
Oppos'd in fight to Theseus:  call to mind
The Hebrews, how effeminate they stoop'd
To ease their thirst; whence Gideon's ranks were thinn'd,
As he to Midian march'd adown the hills."
     Thus near one border coasting, still we heard
The sins of gluttony, with woe erewhile
Reguerdon'd.  Then along the lonely path,
Once more at large, full thousand paces on
We travel'd, each contemplative and mute.
     "Why pensive journey thus ye three alone?"
Thus suddenly a voice exclaim'd: whereat
I shook, as doth a scar'd and paltry beast;
Then rais'd my head to look from whence it came.
     Was ne'er, in furnace, glass, or metal seen
So bright and glowing red, as was the shape
I now beheld.  "If ye desire to mount,"
He cried, "here must ye turn.  This way he goes,
Who goes in quest of peace."  His countenance
Had dazzled me; and to my guides I fac'd
Backward, like one who walks, as sound directs.
     As when, to harbinger the dawn, springs up
On freshen'd wing the air of May, and breathes
Of fragrance, all impregn'd with herb and flowers,
E'en such a wind I felt upon my front
Blow gently, and the moving of a wing
Perceiv'd, that moving shed ambrosial smell;
And then a voice:  "Blessed are they, whom grace
Doth so illume, that appetite in them
Exhaleth no inordinate desire,
Still hung'ring as the rule of temperance wills."
It was an hour, when he who climbs, had need
To walk uncrippled: for the sun had now
To Taurus the meridian circle left,
And to the Scorpion left the night.  As one
That makes no pause, but presses on his road,
Whate'er betide him, if some urgent need
Impel: so enter'd we upon our way,
One before other; for, but singly, none
That steep and narrow scale admits to climb.
     E'en as the young stork lifteth up his wing
Through wish to fly, yet ventures not to quit
The nest, and drops it; so in me desire
Of questioning my guide arose, and fell,
Arriving even to the act, that marks
A man prepar'd for speech.  Him all our haste
Restrain'd not, but thus spake the sire belov'd:
Fear not to speed the shaft, that on thy lip
Stands trembling for its flight."  Encourag'd thus
I straight began:  "How there can leanness come,
Where is no want of nourishment to feed?"
     "If thou," he answer'd, "hadst remember'd thee,
How Meleager with the wasting brand
Wasted alike, by equal fires consm'd,
This would not trouble thee: and hadst thou thought,
How in the mirror your reflected form
With mimic motion vibrates, what now seems
Hard, had appear'd no harder than the pulp
Of summer fruit mature.  But that thy will
In certainty may find its full repose,
Lo Statius here!  on him I call, and pray
That he would now be healer of thy wound."
     "If in thy presence I unfold to him
The secrets of heaven's vengeance, let me plead
Thine own injunction, to exculpate me."
So Statius answer'd, and forthwith began:
"Attend my words, O son, and in thy mind
Receive them: so shall they be light to clear
The doubt thou offer'st. Blood, concocted well,
Which by the thirsty veins is ne'er imbib'd,
And rests as food superfluous, to be ta'en
From the replenish'd table, in the heart
Derives effectual virtue, that informs
The several human limbs, as being that,
Which passes through the veins itself to make them.
Yet more concocted it descends, where shame
Forbids to mention: and from thence distils
In natural vessel on another's blood.
Then each unite together, one dispos'd
T' endure, to act the other, through meet frame
Of its recipient mould: that being reach'd,
It 'gins to work, coagulating first;
Then vivifies what its own substance caus'd
To bear.  With animation now indued,
The active virtue (differing from a plant
No further, than that this is on the way
And at its limit that) continues yet
To operate, that now it moves, and feels,
As sea sponge clinging to the rock: and there
Assumes th' organic powers its seed convey'd.
'This is the period, son!  at which the virtue,
That from the generating heart proceeds,
Is pliant and expansive; for each limb
Is in the heart by forgeful nature plann'd.
How babe of animal becomes, remains
For thy consid'ring.  At this point, more wise,
Than thou hast err'd, making the soul disjoin'd
From passive intellect, because he saw
No organ for the latter's use assign'd.
     "Open thy bosom to the truth that comes.
Know soon as in the embryo, to the brain,
Articulation is complete, then turns
The primal Mover with a smile of joy
On such great work of nature, and imbreathes
New spirit replete with virtue, that what here
Active it finds, to its own substance draws,
And forms an individual soul, that lives,
And feels, and bends reflective on itself.
And that thou less mayst marvel at the word,
Mark the sun's heat, how that to wine doth change,
Mix'd with the moisture filter'd through the vine.
     "When Lachesis hath spun the thread, the soul
Takes with her both the human and divine,
Memory, intelligence, and will, in act
Far keener than before, the other powers
Inactive all and mute.  No pause allow'd,
In wond'rous sort self-moving, to one strand
Of those, where the departed roam, she falls,
Here learns her destin'd path.  Soon as the place
Receives her, round the plastic virtue beams,
Distinct as in the living limbs before:
And as the air, when saturate with showers,
The casual beam refracting, decks itself
With many a hue; so here the ambient air
Weareth that form, which influence of the soul
Imprints on it; and like the flame, that where
The fire moves, thither follows, so henceforth
The new form on the spirit follows still:
Hence hath it semblance, and is shadow call'd,
With each sense even to the sight endued:
Hence speech is ours, hence laughter, tears, and sighs
Which thou mayst oft have witness'd on the mount
Th' obedient shadow fails not to present
Whatever varying passion moves within us.
And this the cause of what thou marvel'st at."
     Now the last flexure of our way we reach'd,
And to the right hand turning, other care
Awaits us.  Here the rocky precipice
Hurls forth redundant flames, and from the rim
A blast upblown, with forcible rebuff
Driveth them back, sequester'd from its bound.
     Behoov'd us, one by one, along the side,
That border'd on the void, to pass; and I
Fear'd on one hand the fire, on th' other fear'd
Headlong to fall: when thus th' instructor warn'd:
"Strict rein must in this place direct the eyes.
A little swerving and the way is lost."
     Then from the bosom of the burning mass,
"O God of mercy!" heard I sung; and felt
No less desire to turn.  And when I saw
Spirits along the flame proceeding, I
Between their footsteps and mine own was fain
To share by turns my view.  At the hymn's close
They shouted loud, "I do not know a man;"
Then in low voice again took up the strain,
Which once more ended, "To the wood," they cried,
"Ran Dian, and drave forth Callisto, stung
With Cytherea's poison:" then return'd
Unto their song; then marry a pair extoll'd,
Who liv'd in virtue chastely, and the bands
Of wedded love.  Nor from that task, I ween,
Surcease they; whilesoe'er the scorching fire
Enclasps them.  Of such skill appliance needs
To medicine the wound, that healeth last.
While singly thus along the rim we walk'd,
Oft the good master warn'd me:  "Look thou well.
Avail it that I caution thee."  The sun
Now all the western clime irradiate chang'd
From azure tinct to white; and, as I pass'd,
My passing shadow made the umber'd flame
Burn ruddier.  At so strange a sight I mark'd
That many a spirit marvel'd on his way.
     This bred occasion first to speak of me,
"He seems," said they, "no insubstantial frame:"
Then to obtain what certainty they might,
Stretch'd towards me, careful not to overpass
The burning pale.  "O thou, who followest
The others, haply not more slow than they,
But mov'd by rev'rence, answer me, who burn
In thirst and fire: nor I alone, but these
All for thine answer do more thirst, than doth
Indian or Aethiop for the cooling stream.
Tell us, how is it that thou mak'st thyself
A wall against the sun, as thou not yet
Into th' inextricable toils of death
Hadst enter'd?"  Thus spake one, and I had straight
Declar'd me, if attention had not turn'd
To new appearance.  Meeting these, there came,
Midway the burning path, a crowd, on whom
Earnestly gazing, from each part I view
The shadows all press forward, sev'rally
Each snatch a hasty kiss, and then away.
E'en so the emmets, 'mid their dusky troops,
Peer closely one at other, to spy out
Their mutual road perchance, and how they thrive.
     That friendly greeting parted, ere dispatch
Of the first onward step, from either tribe
Loud clamour rises: those, who newly come,
Shout  Sodom and Gomorrah!" these, "The cow
Pasiphae enter'd, that the beast she woo'd
Might rush unto her luxury."  Then as cranes,
That part towards the Riphaean mountains fly,
Part towards the Lybic sands, these to avoid
The ice, and those the sun; so hasteth off
One crowd, advances th' other; and resume
Their first song weeping, and their several shout.
     Again drew near my side the very same,
Who had erewhile besought me, and their looks
Mark'd eagerness to listen.  I, who twice
Their will had noted, spake:  "O spirits secure,
Whene'er the time may be, of peaceful end!
My limbs, nor crude, nor in mature old age,
Have I left yonder: here they bear me, fed
With blood, and sinew-strung.  That I no more
May live in blindness, hence I tend aloft.
There is a dame on high, who wind for us
This grace, by which my mortal through your realm
I bear.  But may your utmost wish soon meet
Such full fruition, that the orb of heaven,
Fullest of love, and of most ample space,
Receive you, as ye tell (upon my page
Henceforth to stand recorded) who ye are,
And what this multitude, that at your backs
Have past behind us."  As one, mountain-bred,
Rugged and clownish, if some city's walls
He chance to enter, round him stares agape,
Confounded and struck dumb; e'en such appear'd
Each spirit.  But when rid of that amaze,
(Not long the inmate of a noble heart)
He, who before had question'd, thus resum'd:
"O blessed, who, for death preparing, tak'st
Experience of our limits, in thy bark!
Their crime, who not with us proceed, was that,
For which, as he did triumph, Caesar heard
The snout of 'queen,' to taunt him.  Hence their cry
Of 'Sodom,' as they parted, to rebuke
Themselves, and aid the burning by their shame.
Our sinning was Hermaphrodite: but we,
Because the law of human kind we broke,
Following like beasts our vile concupiscence,
Hence parting from them, to our own disgrace
Record the name of her, by whom the beast
In bestial tire was acted.  Now our deeds
Thou know'st, and how we sinn'd.  If thou by name
Wouldst haply know us, time permits not now
To tell so much, nor can I.  Of myself
Learn what thou wishest.  Guinicelli I,
Who having truly sorrow'd ere my last,
Already cleanse me."  With such pious joy,
As the two sons upon their mother gaz'd
From sad Lycurgus rescu'd, such my joy
(Save that I more represt it) when I heard
From his own lips the name of him pronounc'd,
Who was a father to me, and to those
My betters, who have ever us'd the sweet
And pleasant rhymes of love.  So nought I heard
Nor spake, but long time thoughtfully I went,
Gazing on him; and, only for the fire,
Approach'd not nearer.  When my eyes were fed
By looking on him, with such solemn pledge,
As forces credence, I devoted me
Unto his service wholly.  In reply
He thus bespake me:  "What from thee I hear
Is grav'd so deeply on my mind, the waves
Of Lethe shall not wash it off, nor make
A whit less lively.  But as now thy oath
Has seal'd the truth, declare what cause impels
That love, which both thy looks and speech bewray."
     "Those dulcet lays," I answer'd, "which, as long
As of our tongue the beauty does not fade,
Shall make us love the very ink that trac'd them."
     "Brother!"  he cried, and pointed at a shade
Before him, "there is one, whose mother speech
Doth owe to him a fairer ornament.
He in love ditties and the tales of prose
Without a rival stands, and lets the fools
Talk on, who think the songster of Limoges
O'ertops him.  Rumour and the popular voice
They look to more than truth, and so confirm
Opinion, ere by art or reason taught.
Thus many of the elder time cried up
Guittone, giving him the prize, till truth
By strength of numbers vanquish'd.  If thou own
So ample privilege, as to have gain'd
Free entrance to the cloister, whereof Christ
Is Abbot of the college, say to him
One paternoster for me, far as needs
For dwellers in this world, where power to sin
No longer tempts us."  Haply to make way
For one, that follow'd next, when that was said,
He vanish'd through the fire, as through the wave
A fish, that glances diving to the deep.
     I, to the spirit he had shown me, drew
A little onward, and besought his name,
For which my heart, I said, kept gracious room.
He frankly thus began:  "Thy courtesy
So wins on me, I have nor power nor will
To hide me.  I am Arnault; and with songs,
Sorely lamenting for my folly past,
Thorough this ford of fire I wade, and see
The day, I hope for, smiling in my view.
I pray ye by the worth that guides ye up
Unto the summit of the scale, in time
Remember ye my suff'rings."  With such words
He disappear'd in the refining flame.
Now was the sun so station'd, as when first
His early radiance quivers on the heights,
Where stream'd his Maker's blood, while Libra hangs
Above Hesperian Ebro, and new fires
Meridian flash on Ganges' yellow tide.
     So day was sinking, when the' angel of God
Appear'd before us.  Joy was in his mien.
Forth of the flame he stood upon the brink,
And with a voice, whose lively clearness far
Surpass'd our human, "Blessed are the pure
In heart," he Sang:  then near him as we came,
"Go ye not further, holy spirits!"  he cried,
"Ere the fire pierce you: enter in; and list
Attentive to the song ye hear from thence."
     I, when I heard his saying, was as one
Laid in the grave.  My hands together clasp'd,
And upward stretching, on the fire I look'd,
And busy fancy conjur'd up the forms
Erewhile beheld alive consum'd in flames.
     Th' escorting spirits turn'd with gentle looks
Toward me, and the Mantuan spake:  "My son,
Here torment thou mayst feel, but canst not death.
Remember thee, remember thee, if I
Safe e'en on Geryon brought thee: now I come
More near to God, wilt thou not trust me now?
Of this be sure: though in its womb that flame
A thousand years contain'd thee, from thy head
No hair should perish.  If thou doubt my truth,
Approach, and with thy hands thy vesture's hem
Stretch forth, and for thyself confirm belief.
Lay now all fear, O lay all fear aside.
Turn hither, and come onward undismay'd."
I still, though conscience urg'd' no step advanc'd.
     When still he saw me fix'd and obstinate,
Somewhat disturb'd he cried:  "Mark now, my son,
From Beatrice thou art by this wall
Divided."  As at Thisbe's name the eye
Of Pyramus was open'd (when life ebb'd
Fast from his veins), and took one parting glance,
While vermeil dyed the mulberry; thus I turn'd
To my sage guide, relenting, when I heard
The name, that springs forever in my breast.
     He shook his forehead; and, "How long," he said,
"Linger we now?"  then smil'd, as one would smile
Upon a child, that eyes the fruit and yields.
Into the fire before me then he walk'd;
And Statius, who erewhile no little space
Had parted us, he pray'd to come behind.
     I would have cast me into molten glass
To cool me, when I enter'd; so intense
Rag'd the conflagrant mass.  The sire belov'd,
To comfort me, as he proceeded, still
Of Beatrice talk'd.  "Her eyes," saith he,
"E'en now I seem to view."  From the other side
A voice, that sang, did guide us, and the voice
Following, with heedful ear, we issued forth,
There where the path led upward.  "Come," we heard,
"Come, blessed of my Father."  Such the sounds,
That hail'd us from within a light, which shone
So radiant, I could not endure the view.
"The sun," it added, "hastes: and evening comes.
Delay not: ere the western sky is hung
With blackness, strive ye for the pass."  Our way
Upright within the rock arose, and fac'd
Such part of heav'n, that from before my steps
The beams were shrouded of the sinking sun.
     Nor many stairs were overpass, when now
By fading of the shadow we perceiv'd
The sun behind us couch'd: and ere one face
Of darkness o'er its measureless expanse
Involv'd th' horizon, and the night her lot
Held individual, each of us had made
A stair his pallet: not that will, but power,
Had fail'd us, by the nature of that mount
Forbidden further travel.  As the goats,
That late have skipp'd and wanton'd rapidly
Upon the craggy cliffs, ere they had ta'en
Their supper on the herb, now silent lie
And ruminate beneath the umbrage brown,
While noonday rages; and the goatherd leans
Upon his staff, and leaning watches them:
And as the swain, that lodges out all night
In quiet by his flock, lest beast of prey
Disperse them; even so all three abode,
I as a goat and as the shepherds they,
Close pent on either side by shelving rock.
     A little glimpse of sky was seen above;
Yet by that little I beheld the stars
In magnitude and rustle shining forth
With more than wonted glory.  As I lay,
Gazing on them, and in that fit of musing,
Sleep overcame me, sleep, that bringeth oft
Tidings of future hap.  About the hour,
As I believe, when Venus from the east
First lighten'd on the mountain, she whose orb
Seems always glowing with the fire of love,
A lady young and beautiful, I dream'd,
Was passing o'er a lea; and, as she came,
Methought I saw her ever and anon
Bending to cull the flowers; and thus she sang:
"Know ye, whoever of my name would ask,
That I am Leah: for my brow to weave
A garland, these fair hands unwearied ply.
To please me at the crystal mirror, here
I deck me.  But my sister Rachel, she
Before her glass abides the livelong day,
Her radiant eyes beholding, charm'd no less,
Than I with this delightful task.  Her joy
In contemplation, as in labour mine."
     And now as glimm'ring dawn appear'd, that breaks
More welcome to the pilgrim still, as he
Sojourns less distant on his homeward way,
Darkness from all sides fled, and with it fled
My slumber; whence I rose and saw my guide
Already risen.  "That delicious fruit,
Which through so many a branch the zealous care
Of mortals roams in quest of, shall this day
Appease thy hunger."  Such the words I heard
From Virgil's lip; and never greeting heard
So pleasant as the sounds.  Within me straight
Desire so grew upon desire to mount,
Thenceforward at each step I felt the wings
Increasing for my flight.  When we had run
O'er all the ladder to its topmost round,
As there we stood, on me the Mantuan fix'd
His eyes, and thus he spake:  "Both fires, my son,
The temporal and eternal, thou hast seen,
And art arriv'd, where of itself my ken
No further reaches.  I with skill and art
Thus far have drawn thee.  Now thy pleasure take
For guide.  Thou hast o'ercome the steeper way,
O'ercome the straighter.  Lo!  the sun, that darts
His beam upon thy forehead!  lo! the herb,
The arboreta and flowers, which of itself
This land pours forth profuse!  Till those bright eyes
With gladness come, which, weeping, made me haste
To succour thee, thou mayst or seat thee down,
Or wander where thou wilt.  Expect no more
Sanction of warning voice or sign from me,
Free of thy own arbitrement to choose,
Discreet, judicious.  To distrust thy sense
Were henceforth error.  I invest thee then
With crown and mitre, sovereign o'er thyself."
CANTO XXVIII
Through that celestial forest, whose thick shade
With lively greenness the new-springing day
Attemper'd, eager now to roam, and search
Its limits round, forthwith I left the bank,
Along the champain leisurely my way
Pursuing, o'er the ground, that on all sides
Delicious odour breath'd.  A pleasant air,
That intermitted never, never veer'd,
Smote on my temples, gently, as a wind
Of softest influence: at which the sprays,
Obedient all, lean'd trembling to that part
Where first the holy mountain casts his shade,
Yet were not so disorder'd, but that still
Upon their top the feather'd quiristers
Applied their wonted art, and with full joy
Welcom'd those hours of prime, and warbled shrill
Amid the leaves, that to their jocund lays
inept tenor; even as from branch to branch,
Along the piney forests on the shore
Of Chiassi, rolls the gath'ring melody,
When Eolus hath from his cavern loos'd
The dripping south.  Already had my steps,
Though slow, so far into that ancient wood
Transported me, I could not ken the place
Where I had enter'd, when behold!  my path
Was bounded by a rill, which to the left
With little rippling waters bent the grass,
That issued from its brink.  On earth no wave
How clean soe'er, that would not seem to have
Some mixture in itself, compar'd with this,
Transpicuous, clear; yet darkly on it roll'd,
Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne'er
Admits or sun or moon light there to shine.
     My feet advanc'd not; but my wond'ring eyes
Pass'd onward, o'er the streamlet, to survey
The tender May-bloom, flush'd through many a hue,
In prodigal variety: and there,
As object, rising suddenly to view,
That from our bosom every thought beside
With the rare marvel chases, I beheld
A lady all alone, who, singing, went,
And culling flower from flower, wherewith her way
Was all o'er painted.  "Lady beautiful!
Thou, who (if looks, that use to speak the heart,
Are worthy of our trust), with love's own beam
Dost warm thee," thus to her my speech I fram'd:
"Ah!  please thee hither towards the streamlet bend
Thy steps so near, that I may list thy song.
Beholding thee and this fair place, methinks,
I call to mind where wander'd and how look'd
Proserpine, in that season, when her child
The mother lost, and she the bloomy spring."
     As when a lady, turning in the dance,
Doth foot it featly, and advances scarce
One step before the other to the ground;
Over the yellow and vermilion flowers
Thus turn'd she at my suit, most maiden-like,
Valing her sober eyes, and came so near,
That I distinctly caught the dulcet sound.
Arriving where the limped waters now
Lav'd the green sward, her eyes she deign'd to raise,
That shot such splendour on me, as I ween
Ne'er glanced from Cytherea's, when her son
Had sped his keenest weapon to her heart.
Upon the opposite bank she stood and smil'd
through her graceful fingers shifted still
The intermingling dyes, which without seed
That lofty land unbosoms.  By the stream
Three paces only were we sunder'd: yet
The Hellespont, where Xerxes pass'd it o'er,
(A curb for ever to the pride of man)
Was by Leander not more hateful held
For floating, with inhospitable wave
'Twixt Sestus and Abydos, than by me
That flood, because it gave no passage thence.
     "Strangers ye come, and haply in this place,
That cradled human nature in its birth,
Wond'ring, ye not without suspicion view
My smiles: but that sweet strain of psalmody,
'Thou, Lord!  hast made me glad,' will give ye light,
Which may uncloud your minds.  And thou, who stand'st
The foremost, and didst make thy suit to me,
Say if aught else thou wish to hear: for I
Came prompt to answer every doubt of thine."
     She spake; and I replied:  "l know not how
To reconcile this wave and rustling sound
Of forest leaves, with what I late have heard
Of opposite report."  She answering thus:
"I will unfold the cause, whence that proceeds,
Which makes thee wonder; and so purge the cloud
That hath enwraps thee.  The First Good, whose joy
Is only in himself, created man
For happiness, and gave this goodly place,
His pledge and earnest of eternal peace.
Favour'd thus highly, through his own defect
He fell, and here made short sojourn; he fell,
And, for the bitterness of sorrow, chang'd
Laughter unblam'd and ever-new delight.
That vapours none, exhal'd from earth beneath,
Or from the waters (which, wherever heat
Attracts them, follow), might ascend thus far
To vex man's peaceful state, this mountain rose
So high toward the heav'n, nor fears the rage
0f elements contending, from that part
Exempted, where the gate his limit bars.
Because the circumambient air throughout
With its first impulse circles still, unless
Aught interpose to cheek or thwart its course;
Upon the summit, which on every side
To visitation of th' impassive air
Is open, doth that motion strike, and makes
Beneath its sway th' umbrageous wood resound:
And in the shaken plant such power resides,
That it impregnates with its efficacy
The voyaging breeze, upon whose subtle plume
That wafted flies abroad; and th' other land
Receiving (as 't is worthy in itself,
Or in the clime, that warms it), doth conceive,
And from its womb produces many a tree
Of various virtue.  This when thou hast heard,
The marvel ceases, if in yonder earth
Some plant without apparent seed be found
To fix its fibrous stem.  And further learn,
That with prolific foison of all seeds,
This holy plain is fill'd, and in itself
Bears fruit that ne'er was pluck'd on other soil.
 "The water, thou behold'st, springs not from vein,
As stream, that intermittently repairs
And spends his pulse of life, but issues forth
From fountain, solid, undecaying, sure;
And by the will omnific, full supply
Feeds whatsoe'er On either side it pours;
On this devolv'd with power to take away
Remembrance of offence, on that to bring
Remembrance back of every good deed done.
From whence its name of Lethe on this part;
On th' other Eunoe: both of which must first
Be tasted ere it work; the last exceeding
All flavours else.  Albeit thy thirst may now
Be well contented, if I here break off,
No more revealing: yet a corollary
I freely give beside: nor deem my words
Less grateful to thee, if they somewhat pass
The stretch of promise.  They, whose verse of yore
The golden age recorded and its bliss,
On the Parnassian mountain, of this place
Perhaps had dream'd.  Here was man guiltless, here
Perpetual spring and every fruit, and this
The far-fam'd nectar."  Turning to the bards,
When she had ceas'd, I noted in their looks
A smile at her conclusion; then my face
Again directed to the lovely dame.
Singing, as if enamour'd, she resum'd
And clos'd the song, with "Blessed they whose sins
Are cover'd."  Like the wood-nymphs then, that tripp'd
Singly across the sylvan shadows, one
Eager to view and one to 'scape the sun,
So mov'd she on, against the current, up
The verdant rivage.  I, her mincing step
Observing, with as tardy step pursued.
     Between us not an hundred paces trod,
The bank, on each side bending equally,
Gave me to face the orient.  Nor our way
Far onward brought us, when to me at once
She turn'd, and cried:  "My brother!  look and hearken."
And lo!  a sudden lustre ran across
Through the great forest on all parts, so bright
I doubted whether lightning were abroad;
But that expiring ever in the spleen,
That doth unfold it, and this during still
And waxing still in splendor, made me question
What it might be: and a sweet melody
Ran through the luminous air.  Then did I chide
With warrantable zeal the hardihood
Of our first parent, for that there were earth
Stood in obedience to the heav'ns, she only,
Woman, the creature of an hour, endur'd not
Restraint of any veil: which had she borne
Devoutly, joys, ineffable as these,
Had from the first, and long time since, been mine.
     While through that wilderness of primy sweets
That never fade, suspense I walk'd, and yet
Expectant of beatitude more high,
Before us, like a blazing fire, the air
Under the green boughs glow'd; and, for a song,
Distinct the sound of melody was heard.
     O ye thrice holy virgins!  for your sakes
If e'er I suffer'd hunger, cold and watching,
Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty.
Now through my breast let Helicon his stream
Pour copious; and Urania with her choir
Arise to aid me: while the verse unfolds
Things that do almost mock the grasp of thought.
     Onward a space, what seem'd seven trees of gold,
The intervening distance to mine eye
Falsely presented; but when I was come
So near them, that no lineament was lost
Of those, with which a doubtful object, seen
Remotely, plays on the misdeeming sense,
Then did the faculty, that ministers
Discourse to reason, these for tapers of gold
Distinguish, and it th' singing trace the sound
"Hosanna."  Above, their beauteous garniture
Flam'd with more ample lustre, than the moon
Through cloudless sky at midnight in her full.
     I turn'd me full of wonder to my guide;
And he did answer with a countenance
Charg'd with no less amazement: whence my view
Reverted to those lofty things, which came
So slowly moving towards us, that the bride
Would have outstript them on her bridal day.
     The lady called aloud:  "Why thus yet burns
Affection in thee for these living, lights,
And dost not look on that which follows them?"
     I straightway mark'd a tribe behind them walk,
As if attendant on their leaders, cloth'd
With raiment of such whiteness, as on earth
Was never.  On my left, the wat'ry gleam
Borrow'd, and gave me back, when there I look'd.
As in a mirror, my left side portray'd.
     When I had chosen on the river's edge
Such station, that the distance of the stream
Alone did separate me; there I stay'd
My steps for clearer prospect, and beheld
The flames go onward, leaving, as they went,
The air behind them painted as with trail
Of liveliest pencils!  so distinct were mark'd
All those sev'n listed colours, whence the sun
Maketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone.
These streaming gonfalons did flow beyond
My vision; and ten paces, as I guess,
Parted the outermost.  Beneath a sky
So beautiful, came foul and-twenty elders,
By two and two, with flower-de-luces crown'd.
All sang one song:  "Blessed be thou among
The daughters of Adam!  and thy loveliness
Blessed for ever!"  After that the flowers,
And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink,
Were free from that elected race; as light
In heav'n doth second light, came after them
Four animals, each crown'd with verdurous leaf.
With six wings each was plum'd, the plumage full
Of eyes, and th' eyes of Argus would be such,
Were they endued with life.  Reader, more rhymes
Will not waste in shadowing forth their form:
For other need no straitens, that in this
I may not give my bounty room.  But read
Ezekiel; for he paints them, from the north
How he beheld them come by Chebar's flood,
In whirlwind, cloud and fire; and even such
As thou shalt find them character'd by him,
Here were they; save as to the pennons; there,
From him departing, John accords with me.
     The space, surrounded by the four, enclos'd
A car triumphal: on two wheels it came
Drawn at a Gryphon's neck; and he above
Stretch'd either wing uplifted, 'tween the midst
And the three listed hues, on each side three;
So that the wings did cleave or injure none;
And out of sight they rose.  The members, far
As he was bird, were golden; white the rest
With vermeil intervein'd.  So beautiful
A car in Rome ne'er grac'd Augustus pomp,
Or Africanus': e'en the sun's itself
Were poor to this, that chariot of the sun
Erroneous, which in blazing ruin fell
At Tellus' pray'r devout, by the just doom
Mysterious of all-seeing Jove.  Three nymphs
,k the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance;
The one so ruddy, that her form had scarce
Been known within a furnace of clear flame:
The next did look, as if the flesh and bones
Were emerald: snow new-fallen seem'd the third.
Now seem'd the white to lead, the ruddy now;
And from her song who led, the others took
Their treasure, swift or slow.  At th' other wheel,
A band quaternion, each in purple clad,
Advanc'd with festal step, as of them one
The rest conducted, one, upon whose front
Three eyes were seen.  In rear of all this group,
Two old men I beheld, dissimilar
In raiment, but in port and gesture like,
Solid and mainly grave; of whom the one
Did show himself some favour'd counsellor
Of the great Coan, him, whom nature made
To serve the costliest creature of her tribe.
His fellow mark'd an opposite intent,
Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge,
E'en as I view'd it with the flood between,
Appall'd me.  Next four others I beheld,
Of humble seeming: and, behind them all,
One single old man, sleeping, as he came,
With a shrewd visage.  And these seven, each
Like the first troop were habited, hut wore
No braid of lilies on their temples wreath'd.
Rather with roses and each vermeil flower,
A sight, but little distant, might have sworn,
That they were all on fire above their brow.
     Whenas the car was o'er against me, straight.
Was heard a thund'ring, at whose voice it seem'd
The chosen multitude were stay'd; for there,
With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt.
Soon as the polar light, which never knows
Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil
Of other cloud than sin, fair ornament
Of the first heav'n, to duty each one there
Safely convoying, as that lower doth
The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix'd;
Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van
Between the Gryphon and its radiance came,
Did turn them to the car, as to their rest:
And one, as if commission'd from above,
In holy chant thrice shorted forth aloud:
"Come, spouse, from Libanus!" and all the rest
Took up the song--At the last audit so
The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each
Uplifting lightly his new-vested flesh,
As, on the sacred litter, at the voice
Authoritative of that elder, sprang
A hundred ministers and messengers
Of life eternal.  "Blessed thou!  who com'st!"
And, "O," they cried, "from full hands scatter ye
Unwith'ring lilies;" and, so saying, cast
Flowers over head and round them on all sides.
     I have beheld, ere now, at break of day,
The eastern clime all roseate, and the sky
Oppos'd, one deep and beautiful serene,
And the sun's face so shaded, and with mists
Attemper'd at lids rising, that the eye
Long while endur'd the sight: thus in a cloud
Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose,
And down, within and outside of the car,
Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreath'd,
A virgin in my view appear'd, beneath
Green mantle, rob'd in hue of living flame:
And o'er my Spirit, that in former days
Within her presence had abode so long,
No shudd'ring terror crept.  Mine eyes no more
Had knowledge of her; yet there mov'd from her
A hidden virtue, at whose touch awak'd,
The power of ancient love was strong within me.
     No sooner on my vision streaming, smote
The heav'nly influence, which years past, and e'en
In childhood, thrill'd me, than towards Virgil I
Turn'd me to leftward, panting, like a babe,
That flees for refuge to his mother's breast,
If aught have terrified or work'd him woe:
And would have cried:  "There is no dram of blood,
That doth not quiver in me.  The old flame
Throws out clear tokens of reviving fire:"
But Virgil had bereav'd us of himself,
Virgil, my best-lov'd father; Virgil, he
To whom I gave me up for safety: nor,
All, our prime mother lost, avail'd to save
My undew'd cheeks from blur of soiling tears.
     "Dante, weep not, that Virgil leaves thee: nay,
Weep thou not yet: behooves thee feel the edge
Of other sword, and thou shalt weep for that."
     As to the prow or stern, some admiral
Paces the deck, inspiriting his crew,
When 'mid the sail-yards all hands ply aloof;
Thus on the left side of the car I saw,
(Turning me at the sound of mine own name,
Which here I am compell'd to register)
The virgin station'd, who before appeared
Veil'd in that festive shower angelical.
     Towards me, across the stream, she bent her eyes;
Though from her brow the veil descending, bound
With foliage of Minerva, suffer'd not
That I beheld her clearly; then with act
Full royal, still insulting o'er her thrall,
Added, as one, who speaking keepeth back
The bitterest saying, to conclude the speech:
"Observe me well.  I am, in sooth, I am
Beatrice.  What!  and hast thou deign'd at last
Approach the mountain?  knewest not, O man!
Thy happiness is whole?"  Down fell mine eyes
On the clear fount, but there, myself espying,
Recoil'd, and sought the greensward: such a weight
Of shame was on my forehead.  With a mien
Of that stern majesty, which doth surround
mother's presence to her awe-struck child,
She look'd; a flavour of such bitterness
Was mingled in her pity.  There her words
Brake off, and suddenly the angels sang:
"In thee, O gracious Lord, my hope hath been:"
But went no farther than, "Thou Lord, hast set
My feet in ample room."  As snow, that lies
Amidst the living rafters on the back
Of Italy congeal'd when drifted high
And closely pil'd by rough Sclavonian blasts,
Breathe but the land whereon no shadow falls,
And straightway melting it distils away,
Like a fire-wasted taper: thus was I,
Without a sigh or tear, or ever these
Did sing, that with the chiming of heav'n's sphere,
Still in their warbling chime: but when the strain
Of dulcet symphony, express'd for me
Their soft compassion, more than could the words
"Virgin, why so consum'st him?"  then the ice,
Congeal'd about my bosom, turn'd itself
To spirit and water, and with anguish forth
Gush'd through the lips and eyelids from the heart.
     Upon the chariot's right edge still she stood,
Immovable, and thus address'd her words
To those bright semblances with pity touch'd:
"Ye in th' eternal day your vigils keep,
So that nor night nor slumber, with close stealth,
Conveys from you a single step in all
The goings on of life: thence with more heed
I shape mine answer, for his ear intended,
Who there stands weeping, that the sorrow now
May equal the transgression.  Not alone
Through operation of the mighty orbs,
That mark each seed to some predestin'd aim,
As with aspect or fortunate or ill
The constellations meet, but through benign
Largess of heav'nly graces, which rain down
From such a height, as mocks our vision, this man
Was in the freshness of his being, such,
So gifted virtually, that in him
All better habits wond'rously had thriv'd.
The more of kindly strength is in the soil,
So much doth evil seed and lack of culture
Mar it the more, and make it run to wildness.
These looks sometime upheld him; for I show'd
My youthful eyes, and led him by their light
In upright walking.  Soon as I had reach'd
The threshold of my second age, and chang'd
My mortal for immortal, then he left me,
And gave himself to others.  When from flesh
To spirit I had risen, and increase
Of beauty and of virtue circled me,
I was less dear to him, and valued less.
His steps were turn'd into deceitful ways,
Following false images of good, that make
No promise perfect.  Nor avail'd me aught
To sue for inspirations, with the which,
I, both in dreams of night, and otherwise,
Did call him back; of them so little reck'd him,
Such depth he fell, that all device was short
Of his preserving, save that he should view
The children of perdition.  To this end
I visited the purlieus of the dead:
And one, who hath conducted him thus high,
Receiv'd my supplications urg'd with weeping.
It were a breaking of God's high decree,
If Lethe should be past, and such food tasted
Without the cost of some repentant tear."
"O Thou!"  her words she thus without delay
Resuming, turn'd their point on me, to whom
They but with lateral edge seem'd harsh before,
'Say thou, who stand'st beyond the holy stream,
If this be true.  A charge so grievous needs
Thine own avowal."  On my faculty
Such strange amazement hung, the voice expir'd
Imperfect, ere its organs gave it birth.
     A little space refraining, then she spake:
"What dost thou muse on?  Answer me.  The wave
On thy remembrances of evil yet
Hath done no injury."  A mingled sense
Of fear and of confusion, from my lips
Did such a "Yea " produce, as needed help
Of vision to interpret.  As when breaks
In act to be discharg'd, a cross-bow bent
Beyond its pitch, both nerve and bow o'erstretch'd,
The flagging weapon feebly hits the mark;
Thus, tears and sighs forth gushing, did I burst
Beneath the heavy load, and thus my voice
Was slacken'd on its way.  She straight began:
"When my desire invited thee to love
The good, which sets a bound to our aspirings,
What bar of thwarting foss or linked chain
Did meet thee, that thou so should'st quit the hope
Of further progress, or what bait of ease
Or promise of allurement led thee on
Elsewhere, that thou elsewhere should'st rather wait?"
     A bitter sigh I drew, then scarce found voice
To answer, hardly to these sounds my lips
Gave utterance, wailing:  "Thy fair looks withdrawn,
Things present, with deceitful pleasures, turn'd
My steps aside."  She answering spake:  "Hadst thou
Been silent, or denied what thou avow'st,
Thou hadst not hid thy sin the more: such eye
Observes it.  But whene'er the sinner's cheek
Breaks forth into the precious-streaming tears
Of self-accusing, in our court the wheel
Of justice doth run counter to the edge.
Howe'er that thou may'st profit by thy shame
For errors past, and that henceforth more strength
May arm thee, when thou hear'st the Siren-voice,
Lay thou aside the motive to this grief,
And lend attentive ear, while I unfold
How opposite a way my buried flesh
Should have impell'd thee.  Never didst thou spy
In art or nature aught so passing sweet,
As were the limbs, that in their beauteous frame
Enclos'd me, and are scatter'd now in dust.
If sweetest thing thus fail'd thee with my death,
What, afterward, of mortal should thy wish
Have tempted?  When thou first hadst felt the dart
Of perishable things, in my departing
For better realms, thy wing thou should'st have prun'd
To follow me, and never stoop'd again
To 'bide a second blow for a slight girl,
Or other gaud as transient and as vain.
The new and inexperienc'd bird awaits,
Twice it may be, or thrice, the fowler's aim;
But in the sight of one, whose plumes are full,
In vain the net is spread, the arrow wing'd."
     I stood, as children silent and asham'd
Stand, list'ning, with their eyes upon the earth,
Acknowledging their fault and self-condemn'd.
And she resum'd:  "If, but to hear thus pains thee,
Raise thou thy beard, and lo!  what sight shall do!"
     With less reluctance yields a sturdy holm,
Rent from its fibers by a blast, that blows
From off the pole, or from Iarbas' land,
Than I at her behest my visage rais'd:
And thus the face denoting by the beard,
I mark'd the secret sting her words convey'd.
     No sooner lifted I mine aspect up,
Than downward sunk that vision I beheld
Of goodly creatures vanish; and mine eyes
Yet unassur'd and wavering, bent their light
On Beatrice.  Towards the animal,
Who joins two natures in one form, she turn'd,
And, even under shadow of her veil,
And parted by the verdant rill, that flow'd
Between, in loveliness appear'd as much
Her former self surpassing, as on earth
All others she surpass'd.  Remorseful goads
Shot sudden through me.  Each thing else, the more
Its love had late beguil'd me, now the more
I Was loathsome.  On my heart so keenly smote
The bitter consciousness, that on the ground
O'erpower'd I fell: and what my state was then,
She knows who was the cause.  When now my strength
Flow'd back, returning outward from the heart,
The lady, whom alone I first had seen,
I found above me.  "Loose me not," she cried:
"Loose not thy hold;" and lo!  had dragg'd me high
As to my neck into the stream, while she,
Still as she drew me after, swept along,
Swift as a shuttle, bounding o'er the wave.
     The blessed shore approaching then was heard
So sweetly, "Tu asperges me," that I
May not remember, much less tell the sound.
The beauteous dame, her arms expanding, clasp'd
My temples, and immerg'd me, where 't was fit
The wave should drench me: and thence raising up,
Within the fourfold dance of lovely nymphs
Presented me so lav'd, and with their arm
They each did cover me.  "Here are we nymphs,
And in the heav'n are stars.  Or ever earth
Was visited of Beatrice, we
Appointed for her handmaids, tended on her.
We to her eyes will lead thee; but the light
Of gladness that is in them, well to scan,
Those yonder three, of deeper ken than ours,
Thy sight shall quicken."  Thus began their song;
And then they led me to the Gryphon's breast,
While, turn'd toward us, Beatrice stood.
"Spare not thy vision.  We have stationed thee
Before the emeralds, whence love erewhile
Hath drawn his weapons on thee.  "As they spake,
A thousand fervent wishes riveted
Mine eyes upon her beaming eyes, that stood
Still fix'd toward the Gryphon motionless.
As the sun strikes a mirror, even thus
Within those orbs the twofold being, shone,
For ever varying, in one figure now
Reflected, now in other.  Reader!  muse
How wond'rous in my sight it seem'd to mark
A thing, albeit steadfast in itself,
Yet in its imag'd semblance mutable.
     Full of amaze, and joyous, while my soul
Fed on the viand, whereof still desire
Grows with satiety, the other three
With gesture, that declar'd a loftier line,
Advanc'd: to their own carol on they came
Dancing in festive ring angelical.
     "Turn, Beatrice!" was their song:  "O turn
Thy saintly sight on this thy faithful one,
Who to behold thee many a wearisome pace
Hath measur'd.  Gracious at our pray'r vouchsafe
Unveil to him thy cheeks: that he may mark
Thy second beauty, now conceal'd."  O splendour!
O sacred light eternal!  who is he
So pale with musing in Pierian shades,
Or with that fount so lavishly imbued,
Whose spirit should not fail him in th' essay
To represent thee such as thou didst seem,
When under cope of the still-chiming heaven
Thou gav'st to open air thy charms reveal'd.
Mine eyes with such an eager coveting,
Were bent to rid them of their ten years' thirst,
No other sense was waking: and e'en they
Were fenc'd on either side from heed of aught;
So tangled in its custom'd toils that smile
Of saintly brightness drew me to itself,
When forcibly toward the left my sight
The sacred virgins turn'd; for from their lips
I heard the warning sounds:  "Too fix'd a gaze!"
     Awhile my vision labor'd; as when late
Upon the' o'erstrained eyes the sun hath smote:
But soon to lesser object, as the view
Was now recover'd (lesser in respect
To that excess of sensible, whence late
I had perforce been sunder'd) on their right
I mark'd that glorious army wheel, and turn,
Against the sun and sev'nfold lights, their front.
As when, their bucklers for protection rais'd,
A well-rang'd troop, with portly banners curl'd,
Wheel circling, ere the whole can change their ground:
E'en thus the goodly regiment of heav'n
Proceeding, all did pass us, ere the car
Had slop'd his beam.  Attendant at the wheels
The damsels turn'd; and on the Gryphon mov'd
The sacred burden, with a pace so smooth,
No feather on him trembled.  The fair dame
Who through the wave had drawn me, companied
By Statius and myself, pursued the wheel,
Whose orbit, rolling, mark'd a lesser arch.
     Through the high wood, now void (the more her blame,
Who by the serpent was beguil'd) I past
With step in cadence to the harmony
Angelic.  Onward had we mov'd, as far
Perchance as arrow at three several flights
Full wing'd had sped, when from her station down
Descended Beatrice.  With one voice
All murmur'd  "Adam," circling next a plant
Despoil'd of flowers and leaf on every bough.
Its tresses, spreading more as more they rose,
Were such, as 'midst their forest wilds for height
The Indians might have gaz'd at.  "Blessed thou!
Gryphon, whose beak hath never pluck'd that tree
Pleasant to taste: for hence the appetite
Was warp'd to evil."  Round the stately trunk
Thus shouted forth the rest, to whom return'd
The animal twice-gender'd:  "Yea: for so
The generation of the just are sav'd."
And turning to the chariot-pole, to foot
He drew it of the widow'd branch, and bound
There left unto the stock whereon it grew.
     As when large floods of radiance from above
Stream, with that radiance mingled, which ascends
Next after setting of the scaly sign,
Our plants then burgeon, and each wears anew
His wonted colours, ere the sun have yok'd
Beneath another star his flamy steeds;
Thus putting forth a hue, more faint than rose,
And deeper than the violet, was renew'd
The plant, erewhile in all its branches bare.
     Unearthly was the hymn, which then arose.
I understood it not, nor to the end
Endur'd the harmony.  Had I the skill
To pencil forth, how clos'd th' unpitying eyes
Slumb'ring, when Syrinx warbled, (eyes that paid
So dearly for their watching,) then like painter,
That with a model paints, I might design
The manner of my falling into sleep.
But feign who will the slumber cunningly;
I pass it by to when I wak'd, and tell
How suddenly a flash of splendour rent
The curtain of my sleep, and one cries out:
"Arise, what dost thou?"  As the chosen three,
On Tabor's mount, admitted to behold
The blossoming of that fair tree, whose fruit
Is coveted of angels, and doth make
Perpetual feast in heaven, to themselves
Returning at the word, whence deeper sleeps
Were broken, that they their tribe diminish'd saw,
Both Moses and Elias gone, and chang'd
The stole their master wore: thus to myself
Returning, over me beheld I stand
The piteous one, who cross the stream had brought
My steps.  "And where," all doubting, I exclaim'd,
"Is Beatrice?"--"See her," she replied,
"Beneath the fresh leaf seated on its root.
Behold th' associate choir that circles her.
The others, with a melody more sweet
And more profound, journeying to higher realms,
Upon the Gryphon tend."  If there her words
Were clos'd, I know not; but mine eyes had now
Ta'en view of her, by whom all other thoughts
Were barr'd admittance.  On the very ground
Alone she sat, as she had there been left
A guard upon the wain, which I beheld
Bound to the twyform beast.  The seven nymphs
Did make themselves a cloister round about her,
And in their hands upheld those lights secure
From blast septentrion and the gusty south.
     "A little while thou shalt be forester here:
And citizen shalt be forever with me,
Of that true Rome, wherein Christ dwells a Roman
To profit the misguided world, keep now
Thine eyes upon the car; and what thou seest,
Take heed thou write, returning to that place."
     Thus Beatrice: at whose feet inclin'd
Devout, at her behest, my thought and eyes,
I, as she bade, directed.  Never fire,
With so swift motion, forth a stormy cloud
Leap'd downward from the welkin's farthest bound,
As I beheld the bird of Jove descending
Pounce on the tree, and, as he rush'd, the rind,
Disparting crush beneath him, buds much more
And leaflets.  On the car with all his might
He struck, whence, staggering like a ship, it reel'd,
At random driv'n, to starboard now, o'ercome,
And now to larboard, by the vaulting waves.
     Next springing up into the chariot's womb
A fox I saw, with hunger seeming pin'd
Of all good food.  But, for his ugly sins
The saintly maid rebuking him, away
Scamp'ring he turn'd, fast as his hide-bound corpse
Would bear him.  Next, from whence before he came,
I saw the eagle dart into the hull
O' th' car, and leave it with his feathers lin'd;
And then a voice, like that which issues forth
From heart with sorrow riv'd, did issue forth
From heav'n, and, "O poor bark of mine!" it cried,
"How badly art thou freighted!"  Then, it seem'd,
That the earth open'd between either wheel,
And I beheld a dragon issue thence,
That through the chariot fix'd his forked train;
And like a wasp that draggeth back the sting,
So drawing forth his baleful train, he dragg'd
Part of the bottom forth, and went his way
Exulting.  What remain'd, as lively turf
With green herb, so did clothe itself with plumes,
Which haply had with purpose chaste and kind
Been offer'd; and therewith were cloth'd the wheels,
Both one and other, and the beam, so quickly
A sigh were not breath'd sooner.  Thus transform'd,
The holy structure, through its several parts,
Did put forth heads, three on the beam, and one
On every side; the first like oxen horn'd,
But with a single horn upon their front
The four.  Like monster sight hath never seen.
O'er it methought there sat, secure as rock
On mountain's lofty top, a shameless whore,
Whose ken rov'd loosely round her.  At her side,
As 't were that none might bear her off, I saw
A giant stand; and ever, and anon
They mingled kisses.  But, her lustful eyes
Chancing on me to wander, that fell minion
Scourg'd her from head to foot all o'er; then full
Of jealousy, and fierce with rage, unloos'd
The monster, and dragg'd on, so far across
The forest, that from me its shades alone
Shielded the harlot and the new-form'd brute.
CANTO XXXIII
"The heathen, Lord!  are come!" responsive thus,
The trinal now, and now the virgin band
Quaternion, their sweet psalmody began,
Weeping; and Beatrice listen'd, sad
And sighing, to the song', in such a mood,
That Mary, as she stood beside the cross,
Was scarce more chang'd.  But when they gave her place
To speak, then, risen upright on her feet,
She, with a colour glowing bright as fire,
Did answer: "Yet a little while, and ye
Shall see me not; and, my beloved sisters,
Again a little while, and ye shall see me."
     Before her then she marshall'd all the seven,
And, beck'ning only motion'd me, the dame,
And that remaining sage, to follow her.
     So on she pass'd; and had not set, I ween,
Her tenth step to the ground, when with mine eyes
Her eyes encounter'd; and, with visage mild,
"So mend thy pace," she cried, "that if my words
Address thee, thou mayst still be aptly plac'd
To hear them."  Soon as duly to her side
I now had hasten'd:  "Brother!" she began,
"Why mak'st thou no attempt at questioning,
As thus we walk together?"  Like to those
Who, speaking with too reverent an awe
Before their betters, draw not forth the voice
Alive unto their lips, befell me shell
That I in sounds imperfect thus began:
"Lady!  what I have need of, that thou know'st,
And what will suit my need."  She answering thus:
"Of fearfulness and shame, I will, that thou
Henceforth do rid thee: that thou speak no more,
As one who dreams.  Thus far be taught of me:
The vessel, which thou saw'st the serpent break,
Was and is not: let him, who hath the blame,
Hope not to scare God's vengeance with a sop.
Without an heir for ever shall not be
That eagle, he, who left the chariot plum'd,
Which monster made it first and next a prey.
Plainly I view, and therefore speak, the stars
E'en now approaching, whose conjunction, free
From all impediment and bar, brings on
A season, in the which, one sent from God,
(Five hundred, five, and ten, do mark him out)
That foul one, and th' accomplice of her guilt,
The giant, both shall slay.  And if perchance
My saying, dark as Themis or as Sphinx,
Fail to persuade thee, (since like them it foils
The intellect with blindness) yet ere long
Events shall be the Naiads, that will solve
This knotty riddle, and no damage light
On flock or field.  Take heed; and as these words
By me are utter'd, teach them even so
To those who live that life, which is a race
To death: and when thou writ'st them, keep in mind
Not to conceal how thou hast seen the plant,
That twice hath now been spoil'd.  This whoso robs,
This whoso plucks, with blasphemy of deed
Sins against God, who for his use alone
Creating hallow'd it.  For taste of this,
In pain and in desire, five thousand years
And upward, the first soul did yearn for him,
Who punish'd in himself the fatal gust.
     "Thy reason slumbers, if it deem this height
And summit thus inverted of the plant,
Without due cause: and were not vainer thoughts,
As Elsa's numbing waters, to thy soul,
And their fond pleasures had not dyed it dark
As Pyramus the mulberry, thou hadst seen,
In such momentous circumstance alone,
God's equal justice morally implied
In the forbidden tree.  But since I mark thee
In understanding harden'd into stone,
And, to that hardness, spotted too and stain'd,
So that thine eye is dazzled at my word,
I will, that, if not written, yet at least
Painted thou take it in thee, for the cause,
That one brings home his staff inwreath'd with palm.
     "I thus:  "As wax by seal, that changeth not
Its impress, now is stamp'd my brain by thee.
But wherefore soars thy wish'd-for speech so high
Beyond my sight, that loses it the more,
The more it strains to reach it?" --"To the end
That thou mayst know," she answer'd straight, "the school,
That thou hast follow'd; and how far behind,
When following my discourse, its learning halts:
And mayst behold your art, from the divine
As distant, as the disagreement is
'Twixt earth and heaven's most high and rapturous orb."
     "I not remember," I replied, "that e'er
I was estrang'd from thee, nor for such fault
Doth conscience chide me."  Smiling she return'd:
"If thou canst, not remember, call to mind
How lately thou hast drunk of Lethe's wave;
And, sure as smoke doth indicate a flame,
In that forgetfulness itself conclude
Blame from thy alienated will incurr'd.
From henceforth verily my words shall be
As naked as will suit them to appear
In thy unpractis'd view."  More sparkling now,
And with retarded course the sun possess'd
The circle of mid-day, that varies still
As th' aspect varies of each several clime,
When, as one, sent in vaward of a troop
For escort, pauses, if perchance he spy
Vestige of somewhat strange and rare: so paus'd
The sev'nfold band, arriving at the verge
Of a dun umbrage hoar, such as is seen,
Beneath green leaves and gloomy branches, oft
To overbrow a bleak and alpine cliff.
And, where they stood, before them, as it seem'd,
Tigris and Euphrates both beheld,
Forth from one fountain issue; and, like friends,
Linger at parting. "O enlight'ning beam!
O glory of our kind!  beseech thee say
What water this, which from one source deriv'd
Itself removes to distance from itself?"
     To such entreaty answer thus was made:
"Entreat Matilda, that she teach thee this."
     And here, as one, who clears himself of blame
Imputed, the fair dame return'd:  "Of me
He this and more hath learnt; and I am safe
That Lethe's water hath not hid it from him."
     And Beatrice:  "Some more pressing care
That oft the memory 'reeves, perchance hath made
His mind's eye dark.  But lo!  where Eunoe cows!
Lead thither; and, as thou art wont, revive
His fainting virtue."  As a courteous spirit,
That proffers no excuses, but as soon
As he hath token of another's will,
Makes it his own; when she had ta'en me, thus
The lovely maiden mov'd her on, and call'd
To Statius with an air most lady-like:
"Come thou with him."  Were further space allow'd,
Then, Reader, might I sing, though but in part,
That beverage, with whose sweetness I had ne'er
Been sated.  But, since all the leaves are full,
Appointed for this second strain, mine art
With warning bridle checks me.  I return'd
From the most holy wave, regenerate,
If 'en as new plants renew'd with foliage new,
Pure and made apt for mounting to the stars.
NOTES TO PURGATORY
Verse 1.  O'er better waves.]  Berni, Orl. Inn. L 2. c. i.
Per correr maggior acqua alza le vele,
O debil navicella del mio ingegno.
v. 11.  Birds of chattering note.]  For the fable of the
daughters of Pierus, who challenged the muses to sing, and were
changed into magpies, see Ovid, Met. 1. v. fab. 5.
v. 19.  Planet.]  Venus.
v. 20.  Made all the orient laugh.]  Hence Chaucer, Knight's
Tale: And all the orisont laugheth of the sight.
It is sometimes read "orient."
v. 24.  Four stars.]  Symbolical of the four cardinal virtues,
Prudence Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance.  See Canto XXXI v.
v. 30.  The wain.]  Charles's wain, or Bootes.
v. 31.  An old man.]  Cato.
v. 92.  Venerable plumes.]  The same metaphor has occurred in
Hell Canto XX.  v. 41:
--the plumes,
That mark'd the better sex.
It is used by Ford in the Lady's Trial, a. 4. s. 2.
Now the down
Of softness is exchang'd for plumes of age.
v. 58.  The farthest gloom.]  L'ultima sera. Ariosto, Oroando
Furioso c. xxxiv st. 59:
Che non hen visto ancor l'ultima sera.
And Filicaja, c. ix. Al Sonno.
L'ultima sera.
v. 79.  Marcia.]
Da fredera prisci
Illibata tori: da tantum nomen inane
Connubil: liceat tumulo scripsisse, Catonis
Lucan, Phars. 1. ii. 344.
v. 110.  I spy'd the trembling of the ocean stream.]
Connubil il tremolar della marina.
Trissino, in the Sofonisba.]
E resta in tremolar l'onda marina
And Fortiguerra, Rleelardetto, c. ix. st. 17.
--visto il tremolar della marine.
v.  135.  another.]  From Virg, Aen. 1. vi. 143.
Primo avulso non deficit alter
v. 1.  Now had the sun.]  Dante was now antipodal to Jerusalem,
so that while the sun was setting with respect to that place
which he supposes to be the middle of the inhabited earth, to him
it was rising.
v. 6.  The scales.]  The constellation Libra.
v. 35.  Winnowing the air.]
Trattando l'acre con l'eterne penne.
80 Filicaja, canz. viii. st. 11.
Ma trattar l'acre coll' eterne plume
v. 45.  In exitu.]  "When Israel came out of Egypt."  Ps.  cxiv.
v. 75.  Thrice my hands.]
Ter conatus ibi eollo dare brachia eircum,
Ter frustra eomprensa manus effugit imago,
Par levibus ventis voluerique simillima sommo.
Virg.  Aen.  ii.  794.
Compare Homer, Od.  xl.  205.
v. 88.  My Casella.]  A Florentine, celebrated for his skill in
music, "in whose company," says Landine, "Dante often recreated
his spirits wearied by severe studies." See Dr. Burney's History
of Music, vol. ii. c. iv. p. 322.  Milton has a fine allusion to
this meeting in his sonnet to Henry Lawes.
v. 90.  Hath so much time been lost.]  Casella had been dead some
years but was only just arrived.
v. 91.  He.]  The eonducting angel.
v. 94.  These three months past.]  Since the time of the Jubilee,
during which all spirits not condemned to eternal punishment,
were supposed to pass over to Purgatory as soon as they pleased.
v. 96.  The shore.]  Ostia.
v. 170.  "Love that discourses in my thoughts."]
"Amor che nella mente mi ragiona."
The first verse of a eanzone or song in the Convito of Dante,
which he again cites in his Treatise de Vulg.  Eloq. 1. ii. c.
v.  9.  How doth a little failing wound thee sore.]
(Ch'era al cor picciol fallo amaro morso.
Tasso, G. L. c.  x. st. 59.
v. 11.  Haste, that mars all decency of act. Aristotle in his
Physiog iii.  reekons it among the "the signs of an impudent
man," that he is "quick in his motions."  Compare Sophoeles,
Electra, 878.
v. 26.  To Naples.]
Virgil died at Brundusium, from whence his body is said to have
been removed to Naples.
v. 38.  Desiring fruitlessly.]  See H. Canto IV, 39.
v. 49.  'Twixt Lerice and Turbia.]  At that time the two
extremities of the Genoese republic, the former on the east, the
latter on the  west. A very ingenious writer has had occasion,
for a different purpose, to mention one of these places as
remarkably secluded by its mountainous situation "On an eminence
among the mountains, between the two little cities, Nice and
Manoca, is the village of Torbia, a name formed from the Greek
[GREEK HERE] Mitford on the Harmony of Language, sect. x. p. 351.
v. 78.  As sheep.]  The imitative nature of these animals
supplies our Poet with another comparison in his Convito Opere,
t. i. p 34. Ediz. Ven. 1793.
v. 110.  Manfredi.  King of Naples and Sicily, and the natural
son of Frederick II. He was lively end agreeable in his manners,
and delighted in poetry, music, and dancing. But he was luxurious
and ambitious. Void of religion, and in his philosophy an
Epicurean. See G. Villani l. vi. c. xlvii. and Mr. Matthias's
Tiraboschi, v. I. p. 38. He fell in the battle with Charles of
Anjou in 1265, alluded to in Canto  XXVIII, of Hell, v. 13,
"Dying, excommunicated, King Charles did allow of his being
buried in sacred ground, but he was interred near the bridge of
Benevento, and on his grave there was cast a stone by every one
of the army whence there was formed a great mound of stones. But
some ave said, that afterwards, by command of the Pope. the
Bishop of Cosenza took up his body and sent it out of the
kingdom, because it was the land of the church, and that it was
buried by the river Verde, on the borders of the kingdom and of
Carapagna. this, however, we do not affirm."  G. Villani, Hist.
l. vii.  c. 9.
v. 111.  Costanza.]  See Paradise Canto III.  v. 121.
v. 112.  My fair daughter.]  Costanza, the daughter of Manfredi,
and wife of Peter III.  King of Arragon, by whom she was mother
to  Frederick, King of Sicily and James, King of Arragon With the
latter of these she was at Rome 1296. See G. Villani, 1. viii. c.
18. and notes to Canto VII.
v. 122.  Clement.]  Pope Clement IV.
v. 127.  The stream of Verde.]  A river near Ascoli, that falls
into he Toronto. The "xtinguished lights " formed part of the
ceremony t the interment of one excommunicated.
v. 130.  Hope.]
Mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde.
Tasso, G. L. c. xix. st. 53.
--infin che verde e fior di speme.
v. 1.  When.] It must be owned the beginning of this Canto is
somewhat obscure. Bellutello refers, for an elucidation of it, to
the reasoning of Statius in the twenty-fifth canto. Perhaps some
illustration may be derived from the following, passage in
South's Sermons, in which I have ventured to supply the words
between crotchets that seemed to be wanting to complete
the sense. Now whether these three, judgement memory, and
invention, are three distinct things, both in being distinguished
from one another, and likewise from the substance of the soul
itself, considered without any such faculties, (or whether the
soul be one individual substance) but only receiving these
several denominations rom the several respects arising from the
several actions exerted immediately by itself upon several
objects, or several qualities of the same object, I say whether
of these it is, is not easy to decide, and it is well that it is
not necessary Aquinas, and most with him, affirm the former, and
Scotus with his followers the latter." Vol. iv. Serm. 1.
v. 23.  Sanleo.]  A fortress on the summit of Montefeltro.
v. 24.  Noli.]  In the Genoese territory, between Finale and
v. 25.  Bismantua.]  A steep mountain in the territory of Reggio.
v. 55.  From the left.]  Vellutello observes an imitation of
Lucan in this passage:
Ignotum vobis, Arabes, venistis in orbem,
Umbras mirati nemornm non ire sinistras.
Phars.  s. 1.  iii. 248
v. 69 Thou wilt see.]  "If you consider that this mountain of
Purgatory and that of Sion are antipodal to each other, you will
perceive that the sun must rise on opposite sides of the
respective eminences."
v. 119.  Belacqua.]  Concerning this man, the commentators afford
no information.
v. 14.  Be as a tower.]  Sta  ome torre ferma
Berni, Orl.  Inn. 1. 1. c. xvi. st. 48:
In quei due piedi sta fermo il gigante
Com' una torre in mezzo d'un castello.
And Milton, P. L. b. i.  591.
Stood like a tower.
v. 36.  Ne'er saw I fiery vapours.]  Imitated by Tasso, G. L, c.
Tal suol fendendo liquido sereno
Stella cader della gran madre in seno.
And by Milton, P. L. b. iv. 558:
Swift as a shooting star
In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fir'd
Impress the air.
v. 67.  That land.]  The Marca d'Ancona, between Romagna and
Apulia, the kingdom of Charles of Anjou.
v. 76.  From thence I came.]  Giacopo del Cassero, a citizen of
Fano who having spoken ill of Azzo da Este, Marquis of Ferrara,
was by his orders put to death.  Giacopo, was overtaken by the
assassins at Oriaco a place near the Brenta, from whence, if he
had fled towards Mira, higher up on that river, instead of making
for the marsh on the sea shore, he might have escaped.
v. 75.  Antenor's land.]  The city of Padua, said to be founded
v. 87.  Of Montefeltro I.]  Buonconte (son of Guido da
Montefeltro, whom we have had in the twenty-seventh Canto of
Hell) fell in the battle of Campaldino (1289), fighting on the
side of the Aretini.
v. 88.  Giovanna.]  Either the wife, or kinswoman, of Buonconte.
v. 91.  The hermit's seat.]  The hermitage of Camaldoli.
v. 95.  Where its name is cancel'd.]  That is, between Bibbiena
and Poppi, where the Archiano falls into the Arno.
v. 115.  From Pratomagno to the mountain range.]  From Pratomagno
now called Prato Vecchio (which divides the Valdarno from
Casentino) as far as to the Apennine.
v. 131.  Pia.] She is said to have been a Siennese lady, of the
family of Tolommei, secretly made away with by her husband, Nello
della Pietra, of the same city, in Maremma, where he had some
possessions.
v. 14.  Of Arezzo him.]  Benincasa of Arezzo, eminent for his
skill in jurisprudence, who, having condemned to death Turrino da
Turrita brother of Ghino di Tacco, for his robberies in Maremma,
was murdered by Ghino, in an apartment of his own house, in the
presence of many witnesses. Ghino was not only suffered to escape
in safety, but (as the commentators inform us) obtained so high a
reputation by the liberality with which he was accustomed to
dispense the fruits of his plunder, and treated those who fell
into his hands with so much courtesy, that he was afterwards
invited to Rome, and knighted by Boniface VIII. A story is told
of him by Boccaccio, G. x. N. 2.
v. 15.  Him beside.]  Ciacco de' Tariatti of Arezzo.  He is said
to have been carried by his horse into the Arno, and there
drowned, while he was in pursuit of certain of his enemies.
v. 17.  Frederic Novello.]  Son of the Conte Guido da Battifolle,
and slain by one of the family of Bostoli.
v. 18.  Of Pisa he.]  Farinata de' Scornigiani of Pisa.  His
father Marzuco, who had entered the order of the Frati Minori, so
entirely overcame the feelings of resentment, that he even kissed
the hands of the slayer of his son, and, as he was following the
funeral, exhorted his kinsmen to reconciliation.
v. 20.  Count 0rso.]  Son of Napoleone da Cerbaia, slain by
Alberto da Mangona, his uncle.
v. 23.  Peter de la Brosse.]  Secretary of Philip III  of France.
The courtiers, envying the high place which he held in the king's
favour, prevailed on Mary of Brabant to charge him falsely with
an attempt upon her person for which supposed crime he suffered
death. So say the Italian commentators.  Henault represents the
matter very differently: "Pierre de la Brosse, formerly barber to
St. Louis, afterwards the favorite of Philip, fearing the too
great attachment of the king for his wife Mary, accuses this
princess of having poisoned Louis, eldest son of Philip, by his
first marriage. This calumny is discovered by a nun of Nivelle in
Flanders.  La Brosse is hung." Abrege Chron. t. 275, &c.
v. 30.  In thy text.]  He refers to Virgil, Aen. 1, vi.  376.
Desine fata deum flecti sperare precando, 37. The sacred height
Of judgment. Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, a. ii. s. 2.
If he, which is the top of judgment
v. 66.  Eyeing us as a lion on his watch.]
A guisa di Leon quando si posa.
A line taken by Tasso, G.  L. c. x. st. 56.
v. 76.  Sordello.]  The history of Sordello's life is wrapt in
the obscurity of romance.  That he distinguished himself by his
skill in Provencal poetry is certain. It is probable that he was
born towards the end of the twelfth, and died about the middle of
the succeeding century.  Tiraboschi has taken much pains to sift
all the notices he could collect relating to him.  Honourable
mention of his name is made by our Poet in the Treatise de Vulg.
Eloq.  1. i. c. 15.
v. 76.  Thou inn of grief.]
Thou most beauteous inn
Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee?
Shakespeare, Richard II a. 5. s. 1.
v. 89.  Justinian's hand.]  "What avails it that Justinian
delivered thee from the Goths, and reformed thy laws, if thou art
no longer under the control of his successors in the empire?"
v. 94.  That which God commands.]  He alludes to the precept-
"Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's."
v. 98.  O German Albert!]  The Emperor Albert I. succeeded
Adolphus in 1298, and was murdered in 1308.  See Par Canto XIX
114 v. 103.  Thy successor.]  The successor of Albert was Henry
of Luxembourg, by whose interposition in the affairs of Italy our
Poet hoped to have been reinstated in his native city.
v. 101.  Thy sire.]  The Emperor Rodolph, too intent on
increasing his power in Germany to give much of his thoughts to
Italy, "the garden of the empire."
v. 107.  Capulets and Montagues.]  Our ears are so familiarized
to the names of these rival families in the language of
Shakespeare, that I have used them instead of the "Montecchi" and
"Cappelletti."
v. 108.  Philippeschi and Monaldi.] Two other rival families in
v. 113.  What safety, Santafiore can supply.]  A place between
Pisa and Sienna.  What he alludes to is so doubtful, that it is
not certain whether we should not read "come si cura"--" How
Santafiore is governed." Perhaps the event related in the note to
v. 58, Canto XI. may be pointed at.
v. 127.  Marcellus.]
Un Marcel diventa
Ogni villan che parteggiando viene.
Repeated by Alamanni in his Coltivazione, 1. i.
v. 51.  I sick wretch.]  Imitated by the Cardinal de Polignac in
his Anti-Lucretius, 1. i. 1052.
Ceu lectum peragrat membris languentibus aeger
In latus alterne faevum dextrumque recumbens
Nec javat:  inde oculos tollit resupinus in altum:
Nusquam inventa quies; semper quaesita:  quod illi
Primum in deliciis fuerat, mox torquet et angit:
Nec morburm sanat, nec fallit taedia morbi.
v. 14.  Where one of mean estate might clasp his lord.]
Ariosto Orl.  F. c. xxiv. st. 19
E l'abbracciaro, ove il maggior s'abbraccia
Col capo nudo e col ginocchio chino.
v. 31.  The three holy virtues.]  Faith, Hope and Charity.
v. 32.  The red.]  Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance.
v. 72.  Fresh emeralds.]
Under foot the violet,
Crocus, and hyacinth with rich inlay
Broider'd the ground, more colour'd than with stone
Of costliest emblem.
Milton, P. L. b. iv. 793
Compare Ariosto, Orl. F. c. xxxiv. st. 49.
v. 79.  Salve Regina.]  The beginning of a prayer to the Virgin.
It is sufficient here to observe, that in similar instances I
shall either preserve the original Latin words or translate them,
as it may seem best to suit the purpose of the verse.
v. 91.  The Emperor Rodolph.]  See the last Canto, v. 104.  He
died in 1291.
v. 95.  That country.]  Bohemia.
v. 97.  Ottocar.]  King of Bohemia, was killed in the battle of
Marchfield, fought with Rodolph, August 26, 1278. Winceslaus II.
His son,who succeeded him in the kingdom of Bohemia. died in
1305. He is again taxed with luxury in the Paradise Canto XIX.
v. 101.  That one with the nose deprest. ] Philip III of France,
who died in 1285, at Perpignan, in his retreat from Arragon.
v. 102.  Him of gentle look.]  Henry of Naverre, father of Jane
married to Philip IV of France, whom Dante calls "mal di Francia"
-" Gallia's bane."
v. 110.  He so robust of limb.] Peter III called the Great,
King of Arragon, who died in 1285, leaving four sons, Alonzo,
James, Frederick and Peter. The two former succeeded him in the
kingdom of Arragon, and Frederick in that of Sicily.
See G. Villani, 1. vii. c. 102. and Mariana, I. xiv. c. 9.
He is enumerated among the Provencal poets by Millot, Hist. Litt.
Des Troubadours, t. iii. p. 150.
v. 111.  Him of feature prominent.] "Dal maschio naso"-with the
masculine nose." Charles I. King of Naples, Count of Anjou, and
brother of St. Lonis.  He died in 1284. The annalist of Florence
remarks, that "there had been no sovereign of the house of
France, since the time of Charlemagne, by whom Charles
was surpassed either in military renown, and prowess, or in the
loftiness of his understanding."  G. Villani, 1. vii. c.  94.
We shall, however, find many of his actions severely reprobated
in the twentieth Canto.
v. 113.  That stripling.]  Either (as the old commentators
suppose) Alonzo III King of Arragon, the eldest son of Peter III
who died in 1291, at the age of 27, or, according to Venturi,
Peter the youngest son. The former was a young prince of virtue
sufficient to have justified the eulogium and the hopes of Dante.
See Mariana, 1. xiv. c. 14.
v. 119.  Rarely.]
Full well can the wise poet of Florence
That hight Dante, speaken in this sentence
Lo!  in such manner rime is Dantes tale.
Full selde upriseth by his branches smale
Prowesse of man for God of his goodnesse
Woll that we claim of him our gentlenesse:
For of our elders may we nothing claime
But temporal thing, that men may hurt and maime.
Chaucer, Wife of Bathe's Tale.
Compare Homer, Od.  b. ii. v. 276; Pindar, Nem.  xi. 48 and
Euripides, Electra, 369.
v. 122.  To Charles.]  "Al Nasuto." -"Charles II King of Naples,
is no less inferior to his father Charles I. than James and
Frederick to theirs, Peter III."
v. 127.  Costanza.]  Widow of Peter III She has been already
mentioned in the third Canto, v. 112.  By Beatrice and Margaret
are probably meant two of the daughters of Raymond Berenger,
Count of Provence; the former married to St. Louis of France, the
latter to his brother Charles of Anjou.
See Paradise, Canto Vl. 135.  Dante therefore considers Peter as
the most illustrious of the three monarchs.
v. 129.  Harry of England.]  Henry III.
v. 130.  Better issue.]  Edward l. of whose glory our Poet was
perhaps a witness, in his visit to England.
v. 133.  William, that brave Marquis.]  William, Marquis of
Monferrat, was treacherously seized by his own subjects, at
Alessandria, in Lombardy, A.D. 1290, and ended his life in
prison. See G. Villani, 1. vii. c. 135.  A war ensued between the
people of Alessandria and those of Monferrat and the Canavese.
v. 6.  That seems to mourn for the expiring day.]
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day. Gray's Elegy.
v. 13.  Te Lucis Ante.]  The beginning of one of the evening
v. 36.  As faculty.]
My earthly by his heav'nly overpower'd
     * * * *
As with an object, that excels the sense,
Dazzled and spent.
Milton, P. L. b. viii. 457.
v. 53.  Nino, thou courteous judge.]  Nino di Gallura de'
Visconti nephew to Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi, and betrayed
by him. See Notes to Hell Canto XXXIII.
v. 65.  Conrad.]  Currado Malaspina.
v. 71 My Giovanna.]  The daughter of Nino, and wife of
Riccardo da Cammino of Trevigi.
v. 73.  Her mother.]  Beatrice, marchioness of Este wife of Nino,
and after his death married to Galeazzo de' Visconti of Milan.
v. 74.  The white and wimpled folds.]  The weeds of widowhood.
v. 80.  The viper.]  The arms of Galeazzo and the ensign of the
v. 81.  Shrill Gallura's bird.]  The cock was the ensign of
Gallura, Nino's province in Sardinia. Hell, Canto XXII.  80. and
v. 115.  Valdimagra.]  See Hell, Canto XXIV.  144. and Notes.
v. 133.  Sev'n times the tired sun.]  "The sun shall not enter
into the constellation of Aries seven times more, before thou
shalt have still better cause for the good opinion thou
expresses" of Valdimagra, in the kind reception thou shalt there
meet with."  Dante was hospitably received by the Marchese
Marcello Malaspina, during his banishment. A.D. 1307.
v. 1.  Now the fair consort of Tithonus old.]
La concubina di Titone antico.
So Tassoni, Secchia Rapita, c. viii. st. 15.
La puttanella del canuto amante.
v. 5.  Of that chill animal.]  The scorpion.
v. 14.  Our minds.]  Compare Hell, Canto XXVI. 7.
v. 18.  A golden-feathered eagle. ] Chaucer, in the house of
Fame at the conclusion of the first book and beginning of the
second, represents himself carried up by the "grim pawes" of a
golden eagle. Much of his description is closely imitated from
v. 50.  Lucia.]  The enIightening, grace of heaven Hell, Canto
v. 85.  The lowest stair.]  By the white step is meant the
distinctness with which the conscience of the penitent reflects
his offences, by the burnt and cracked one, his contrition on,
their account; and by that of porphyry, the fervour with which he
resolves on the future pursuit of piety and virtue.  Hence, no
doubt, Milton describing "the gate of heaven," P. L. b.
Each stair mysteriously was meant.
v. 100.  Seven times.] Seven P's, to denote the seven sins
(Peccata) of which he was to be cleansed in his passage through
v. 115.  One is more precious.]  The golden key denotes the
divine authority by which the priest absolves the sinners the
silver expresses the learning and
judgment requisite for the due discharge of that office.
v. 127.  Harsh was the grating.]
On a sudden open fly
With impetuous recoil and jarring, sound
Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate
Harsh thunder
Milton, P. L. b. ii 882
v. 128.  The Turpeian.]
Protinus, abducto patuerunt temple Metello.
Tunc rupes Tarpeia sonat: magnoque reclusas
Testatur stridore fores:  tune conditus imo
Eruitur tempo multis intactus ab annnis
Romani census populi, &c.
Lucan. Ph. 1. iii. 157.
v. 6.  That Wound.]  Venturi justly observes, that the Padre
d'Aquino has misrepresented the sense of this passage in his
translation.
--dabat ascensum tendentibus ultra
Scissa tremensque silex, tenuique erratica motu.
The verb "muover"' is used in the same signification in the
Inferno, Canto XVIII. 21.
Cosi da imo della roccia scogli
--from the rock's low base
Thus flinty paths advanc'd.
In neither place is actual motion intended to be expressed.
v. 52.  That from unbidden. office awes mankind.] Seo 2 Sam. G.
v 58.  Preceding.]  Ibid. 14, &c.
v. 68.  Gregory.]  St. Gregory's prayers are said to have
delivered Trajan from hell. See Paradise, Canto XX. 40.
v. 69.  Trajan the Emperor.  For this story, Landino refers to
two writers, whom he calls "Heunando," of France, by whom he
means  Elinand, a monk and chronicler, in the reign of Philip
Augustus, and "Polycrato," of England, by whom is meant John of
Salisbury, author of the Polycraticus de Curialium Nugis, in the
twelfth century. The passage in the text I find to be
nearly a translation from that work, 1. v. c. 8. The original
appears to be in Dio Cassius, where it is told of the Emperor
Hadrian, lib. I xix. [GREEK HERE]
When a woman appeared to him with a suit, as he was on a journey,
at first he answered her, 'I have no leisure,' but she crying
out to him, 'then reign no longer' he turned about, and heard her
v. 119.  As to support.]  Chillingworth, ch.vi. 54.  speaks of
"those crouching anticks, which seem in great buildings to labour
under the weight they bear."  And Lord Shaftesbury has a similar
illustration in his Essay on Wit and Humour, p. 4. s. 3.
v. 1.  0 thou Mighty Father.] The first four lines are borrowed
by Pulci, Morg. Magg.  c. vi.
Dante, in his 'Credo,' has again versified the Lord's prayer.
v. 58.  I was of Latinum.] Omberto, the son of Guglielino
Aldobrandeseo, Count of Santafiore, in the territory of Sienna
His arrogance provoked his countrymen to such a pitch of fury
against him, that he was murdered by them at Campagnatico.
v. 79.  Oderigi.]  The illuminator, or miniature painter, a
friend of Giotto and Dante
v. 83.  Bolognian Franco.]  Franco of Bologna, who is said to
have been a pupil of Oderigi's.
v. 93.  Cimabue.]  Giovanni Cimabue, the restorer of painting,
was born at Florence, of a noble family, in 1240, and died in
1300. The passage in the text is an illusion to his epitaph:
Credidit ut Cimabos picturae castra tenere,
Sic tenuit vivens:  nunc tenet astra poli.
v. 95.  The cry is Giotto's.]  In Giotto we have a proof at how
early a period the fine arts were encouraged in Italy.  His
talents were discovered by Cimabue, while he was tending sheep
for his father in the neighbourhood of Florence, and he was
afterwards patronized by Pope Benedict XI  and Robert King of
Naples, and enjoyed the society and friendship of Dante, whose
likeness he has transmitted to posterity. He  died in 1336, at
the age of 60.
v. 96.  One Guido from the other.]  Guido Cavalcanti, the friend
of our Poet, (see Hell, Canto X. 59.) had eclipsed the literary
fame of Guido Guinicelli, of a noble family in Bologna, whom we
shall meet with in the twenty-sixth Canto and of whom frequent
mention is made by our Poet in his Treatise de Vulg. Eloq.
Guinicelli died in 1276.  Many of Cavalcanti's writings, hitherto
in MS. are now publishing at Florence" Esprit des Journaux, Jan.
v. 97.  He perhaps is born.]  Some imagine, with much
probability, that Dante here augurs the greatness of his own
poetical reputation.  Others have fancied that he prophesies the
glory of Petrarch.  But Petrarch was not yet born.
v. 136.  suitor.]  Provenzano salvani humbled himself so far for
the  sake of one of his friends, who was detained in captivity by
Charles I of Sicily, as personally to supplicate the people of
Sienna to contribute the sum required by the king for his ransom:
and this act of self-abasement atoned for his general ambition
v. 140.  Thy neighbours soon.]  "Thou wilt know in the time of
thy banishment, which is near at hand, what it is to solicit
favours of others and 'tremble through every vein,' lest they
should be refused  thee."
v. 26.  The Thymbraen god.]  Apollo
Si modo, quem perhibes, pater est Thymbraeus Apollo. Virg. Georg.
v. 37.  Mars.]
With such a grace,
The giants that attempted to scale heaven
When they lay dead on the Phlegren plain
Mars did appear to Jove.
Beaumont and Fletcher, The Prophetess, a. 2. s. 3.
v. 42.  O Rehoboam.]  1 Kings, c. xii.  18.
v. 46.  A1cmaeon.] Virg. Aen. l. vi. 445, and Homer, Od. xi. 325.
v. 48.  Sennacherib.]  2 Kings, c.  xix.  37.
v. 58.  What master of the pencil or the style.]
--inimitable on earth
By model, or by shading pencil drawn.
Milton, P. L. b. iii.  509.
v. 94.  The chapel stands.]  The church of San Miniato in
Florence situated on a height that overlooks the Arno, where it
is crossed by the bridge Rubaconte, so called from Messer
Rubaconte da Mandelia, of Milan chief magistrate of Florence, by
whom the bridge was founded in 1237.  See G. Villani, 1. vi. c.
v.  96.  The well-guided city] This is said ironically of
v. 99.  The registry.]  In allusion to certain instances of fraud
committed with respect to the public accounts and measures See
Paradise Canto XVI. 103.
v. 26.  They have no wine.]  John, ii.  3. These words of the
Virgin are referred to as an instance of charity.
v. 29.  Orestes]  Alluding to his friendship with Pylades
v. 32.  Love ye those have wrong'd you.]  Matt. c. v. 44.
v. 33.  The scourge.]  "The chastisement of envy consists in
hearing examples of the opposite virtue, charity.  As a curb and
restraint on this vice, you will presently hear very different
sounds, those of threatening and punishment."
v. 87.  Citizens Of one true city.]
"For here we have no continuing city, but we seek to come." Heb.
C. xiii. 14.
v. 101.  Sapia.]  A lady of Sienna, who, living in exile at
Colle, was so overjoyed at a defeat which her countrymen
sustained near that place that she declared nothing more was
wanting to make her die contented.
v. 114.  The merlin.]  The story of the merlin is that having
been induced by a gleam of fine weather in the winter to escape
from his master, he was soon oppressed by the rigour of the
v. 119.  The hermit Piero.]  Piero Pettinagno, a holy hermit of
v. 141.  That vain multitude.]  The Siennese.  See Hell, Canto
XXIX. 117. "Their acquisition of Telamone, a seaport on the
confines of the Maremma, has led them to conceive hopes of
becoming a naval power: but this scheme will prove as chimerical
as their former plan for the discovery of a subterraneous stream
under their city."  Why they gave the appellation of Diana to the
imagined stream, Venturi says he leaves it to the antiquaries of
Sienna to conjecture.
v. 34.  Maim'd of Pelorus.]  Virg. Aen. 1. iii. 414.
Torn from Pelorus
Milton P. L. b. i. 232
v. 45.  'Midst brute swine.]  The people of Casentino.
v. 49.  Curs.]  The Arno leaves Arezzo about four miles to the
v. 53.  Wolves.]  The Florentines.
v. 55.  Foxes.]  The Pisans
v. 61.  Thy grandson.]  Fulcieri de' Calboli, grandson of
Rinieri de' Calboli, who is here spoken to.  The atrocities
predicted came to pass in 1302.  See G. Villani, 1.  viii c. 59
v. 95.  'Twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore.]  The
boundaries of Romagna.
v. 99.  Lizio.]  Lizio da Valbona, introduced into Boccaccio's
Decameron, G. v. N, 4.
v. 100.  Manardi, Traversaro, and Carpigna.1 Arrigo Manardi of
Faenza, or as some say, of Brettinoro, Pier Traversaro, lord of
Ravenna, and Guido di Carpigna of Montefeltro.
v. 102.  In Bologna the low artisan.]  One who had been a
mechanic named Lambertaccio, arrived at almost supreme power in
v. 103.  Yon Bernardin.]  Bernardin di Fosco, a man of low
origin but great talents, who governed at Faenza.
v. 107.  Prata.]  A place between Faenza and Ravenna
v. 107.  Of Azzo him.] Ugolino of the Ubaldini family in Tuscany
He is recounted among the poets by Crescimbeni and Tiraboschi.
v. 108.  Tignoso.] Federigo Tignoso of Rimini.
v. 109.  Traversaro's house and Anastagio's.]  Two noble families
of Ravenna.  She to whom Dryden has given the name of Honoria, in
the fable so admirably paraphrased from Boccaccio, was of the
former: her lover and the specter were of the Anastagi family.
v. 111.  The ladies, &c.]  These two lines express the true
spirit of chivalry.  "Agi" is understood by the commentators whom
I have consulted,to mean "the ease procured for others by the
exertions of knight-errantry."  But surely it signifies the
alternation of ease with labour.
v. 114.  O Brettinoro.]  A beautifully situated castle in
Romagna, the hospitable residence of Guido del Duca, who is here
v. 118.  Baynacavallo.]  A castle between Imola and Ravenna
v. 118.  Castracaro ill
And Conio worse.]  Both in Romagna.
v. 121.  Pagani.]  The Pagani were lords of Faenza and Imola. One
of them Machinardo, was named the Demon, from his treachery.
See Hell, Canto XXVII. 47, and Note.
v. 124.  Hugolin.]  Ugolino Ubaldini, a noble and virtuous person
in Faenza, who, on account of his age probably, was not likely to
leave any offspring behind him.  He is enumerated among the poets
by Crescimbeni, and Tiraboschi.  Mr. Matthias's edit. vol. i. 143
v. 136.  Whosoever finds Will slay me.] The words of Cain, Gen.
v. 142.  Aglauros.]  Ovid, Met.  I, ii.  fate. 12.
v. 145.  There was the galling bit.]  Referring to what had been
before said, Canto XIII.  35.
v. 1.  As much.]  It wanted three hours of sunset.
v. 16.  As when the ray.]  Compare Virg. Aen. 1.viii. 22, and
Apol. Rhod. 1. iii. 755.
v. 19.  Ascending at a glance.]  Lucretius, 1. iv. 215.
v. 20.  Differs from the stone.]  The motion of light being
quicker  than that of a stone through an equal space.
v. 38.  Blessed the merciful.  Matt. c. v. 7.
v. 43.  Romagna's spirit.] Guido del Duea, of Brettinoro whom we
have seen in the preceding Canto.
v. 87.  A dame.]  Luke, c. ii.  18
v. 101.  How shall we those requite.]  The answer of Pisistratus
the tyrant to his wife, when she urged him to inflict the
punishment of death on a young man, who, inflamed with love for
his daughter, had snatched from her a kiss in public.  The story
is told by Valerius Maximus, 1.v. 1.
v. 105.  A stripling youth.]  The protomartyr Stephen.
v. 94.  As thou.]  "If thou wert still living."
v. 46.  I was of Lombardy, and Marco call'd.]  A Venetian
gentleman. "Lombardo" both was his surname and denoted the
country to which he belonged. G. Villani, 1. vii. c. 120, terms
him "a wise and worthy courtier."
v. 58.  Elsewhere.]  He refers to what Guido del Duca had said in
the thirteenth Canto, concerning the degeneracy of his
v. 70.  If this were so.]  Mr. Crowe in his Lewesdon Hill has
expressed similar sentiments with much energy.
Of this be sure,
Where freedom is not, there no virtue is, &c.
Compare Origen in Genesim, Patrum Graecorum, vol. xi. p. 14.
Wirer burgi,
v. 79.  To mightier force.]  "Though ye are subject to a higher
power than that of the heavenly constellations, e`en to the power
of the great Creator himself, yet ye are still left in the
possession of liberty."
v. 88.  Like a babe that wantons sportively.]  This reminds one
of the Emperor Hadrian's verses to his departing soul:
Animula vagula blandula, &c
v. 99.  The fortress.]  Justice, the most necessary virtue in the
chief magistrate, as the commentators explain it.
v. 103.  Who.]  He compares the Pope, on account of the union of
the temporal with the spiritual power in his person, to an
unclean beast in the levitical law.  "The camel, because he
cheweth the cud, but divideth not the hoof, he is unclean unto
you."  Levit. c. xi. 4.
v. 110.  Two sons.]  The Emperor and the Bishop of Rome.
v. 117.  That land.]  Lombardy.
v. 119.  Ere the day.]  Before the Emperor Frederick II was
defeated before Parma, in 1248.  G. Villani, 1. vi. c. 35.
v. 126.  The good Gherardo.]  Gherardo di Camino of Trevigi.
He is honourably mentioned in our Poet's "Convito."  Opere di
Dante, t. i. p. 173 Venez. 8vo.  1793. And Tiraboschi supposes
him to have been the same Gherardo with whom the Provencal poets
were used to meet with hospitable reception.  See Mr. Matthias's
edition, t. i. p. 137, v. 127.
Conrad.]  Currado da Palazzo, a gentleman of Brescia.
v. 127.  Guido of Castello.]  Of Reggio.  All the Italians were
called Lombards by the French.
v. 144.  His daughter Gaia.]  A lady equally admired for her
modesty, the beauty of her person, and the excellency of her
talents. Gaia, says Tiraboschi, may perhaps lay claim to the
praise of having been the first among the Italian ladies, by whom
the vernacular poetry was cultivated.  Ibid. p. 137.
v. 21.  The bird, that most Delights itself in song.]
I cannot think with Vellutello, that the swallow is here meant.
Dante probably alludes to the story of Philomela, as it is found
in Homer's  Odyssey, b. xix. 518 rather than as later poets have
told it. "She intended to slay the son of her husband's brother
Amphion, incited to it, by the envy of his wife, who had six
children, while herself had only two, but through mistake slew
her own son Itylus, and for her punishment was transformed by
Jupiter into a nightingale."
Cowper's note on the passage.
In speaking of the nightingale, let me observe, that while some
have considered its song as a melancholy, and others as a
cheerful one, Chiabrera appears to have come nearest the truth,
when he says, in the Alcippo, a. l. s. 1,
Non mal si stanca d' iterar le note
O gioconde o dogliose,
Al sentir dilettose.
Unwearied still reiterates her lays,
Jocund or sad, delightful to the ear.
v. 26.  One crucified.]  Haman.  See the book of Esther, c. vii.
v. 34.  A damsel.]  Lavinia, mourning for her mother Amata, who,
impelled by grief and indignation for the supposed death of
Turnus, destroyed herself.  Aen. 1. xii. 595.
v. 43.  The broken slumber quivering ere it dies.]  Venturi
suggests that this bold and unusual metaphor may have been formed
on that in Virgil.
Tempus erat quo prima quies mortalibus aegris
Incipit, et dono divun gratissima serpit.
Aen. 1. ii. 268.
v. 68.  The peace-makers.]  Matt. c. v. 9.
v. 81.  The love.]  "A defect in our love towards God, or
lukewarmness in piety, is here removed."
v. 94.  The primal blessings.]  Spiritual good.
v. 95.  Th' inferior.]  Temporal good.
v. 102.  Now.]  "It is impossible for any being, either to hate
itself, or to hate the First Cause of all, by which it exists.
We can therefore only rejoice in the evil which befalls others."
v. 111.  There is.]  The proud.
v. 114.  There is.]  The envious.
v. 117.  There is he.]  The resentful.
v. 135.  Along Three circles.]  According to the allegorical
commentators, as Venturi has observed, Reason is represented
under the person of Virgil, and Sense under that of Dante.  The
former leaves to the latter to discover for itself the three
carnal sins, avarice, gluttony and libidinousness; having already
declared the nature of the spiritual sins, pride, envy, anger,
and indifference, or lukewarmness in piety, which the Italians
call accidia, from the Greek word.
[GREEK HERE]
v. 1.  The teacher ended.]  Compare Plato, Protagoras, v. iii.
p. 123.  Bip.  edit. [GREEK HERE]  Apoll. Rhod. 1. i. 513,
and Milton, P. L. b. viii. 1.
The angel ended, &c.
v. 23.  Your apprehension.]  It is literally, "Your apprehensive
faculty derives intention from a thing really existing, and
displays the intention within you, so that it makes the soul turn
to it."  The commentators labour in explaining this; and whatever
sense they have elicited may, I think, be resolved into the words
of the translation in the text.
v. 47.  Spirit.]  The human soul, which differs from that of
brutes, inasmuch as, though united with the body, it has a
separate existence of its own.
v. 65.  Three men.]  The great moral philosophers among the
v. 78.  A crag.]  I have preferred the reading of Landino,
scheggion, "crag," conceiving it to be more poetical than
secchion, "bucket," which is the common reading.  The same cause,
the vapours, which the commentators say might give the appearance
of increased magnitude to the moon, might also make her seem
broken at her rise.
v. 78.  Up the vault.]  The moon passed with a motion opposite to
that of the heavens, through the constellation of the scorpion,
in which the sun is, when to those who are in Rome he appears to
set between the isles of Corsica and Sardinia.
v. 84.  Andes.]  Andes, now Pietola, made more famous than Mantua
near which it is situated, by having been the birthplace of
v. 92.  Ismenus and Asopus.]  Rivers near Thebes
v. 98.  Mary.]  Luke, c i. 39, 40
v. 99.  Caesar.]  See Lucan, Phars. I. iii. and iv, and
Caesar de Bello Civiii, I. i.  Caesar left Brutus to complete
the siege of Marseilles, and hastened on to the attack of
Afranius and Petreius, the generals of Pompey, at Ilerda (Lerida)
v. 118.  abbot.]  Alberto, abbot of San Zeno in Verona, when
Frederick I was emperor, by whom Milan was besieged and reduced
v. 121.  There is he.]  Alberto della Scala, lord of Verona, who
had made his natural son abbot of San Zeno.
v. 133.  First they died.]  The Israelites, who, on account of
their disobedience, died before reaching the promised land.
v. 135.  And they.]  Virg  Aen. 1. v.
v. 1.  The hour.]  Near the dawn.
v. 4.  The geomancer.]  The geomancers, says Landino, when they
divined, drew a figure consisting of sixteen marks, named from so
many stars which constitute the end of Aquarius and the beginning
of Pisces. One of these they called "the greater fortune."
v. 7.  A woman's shape.]  Worldly happiness.  This allegory
reminds us of the "Choice of Hercules."
v. 14.  Love's own hue.]
A smile that glow'd
Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.
Milton, P. L. b. viii.  619
--facies pulcherrima tune est
Quum porphyriaco variatur candida rubro
Quid color hic roseus sibi vult?  designat amorem:
Quippe amor est igni similis; flammasque rubentes
Ignus habere solet.
Palingenii Zodiacus Vitae, 1. xii.
v. 26.  A dame.]  Philosophy.
v. 49.  Who mourn.]  Matt.  c. v. 4.
v. 72.  My soul.]  Psalm cxix.  5
v. 97.  The successor of Peter Ottobuono, of the family of
Fieschi Counts of Lavagna, died thirty-nine days after he became
Pope, with the title of Adrian V, in 1276.
v. 98.  That stream.]  The river Lavagna, in the Genoese
v. 135.  nor shall be giv'n in marriage.]  Matt. c. xxii. 30.
"Since in this state we neither marry nor are given in marriage,
I am no longer the spouse of the church, and therefore no longer
retain my former dignity.
v. 140.  A kinswoman.]  Alagia is said to have been the wife of
the Marchese Marcello Malaspina, one of the poet's protectors
during his exile.  See Canto VIII.  133.
v. 3.  I drew the sponge.]  "I did not persevere in my inquiries
from the spirit though still anxious to learn more."
v. 11.  Wolf.]  Avarice.
v. 16.  Of his appearing.]  He is thought to allude to
Can Grande della Scala.  See Hell, Canto I. 98.
v. 25.  Fabricius.]  Compare Petrarch, Tr. della Fama, c. 1.
Un Curio ed un Fabricio, &c.
v. 30.  Nicholas.]  The story of Nicholas is, that an angel
having revealed to him that the father of a family was so
impoverished as to resolve on exposing the chastity of his three
daughters to sale, he threw in at the window of their house three
bags of money, containing a sufficient portion for each of them.
v. 42.  Root.]  Hugh Capet, ancestor of Philip IV.
v. 46.  Had Ghent and Douay, Lille and Bruges power.]  These
cities had lately been seized by Philip IV.  The spirit is made
to imitate the approaching defeat of the French army by the
Flemings, in the battle of Courtrai, which happened in 1302.
v. 51.  The slaughter's trade.]  This reflection on the birth of
his ancestor induced Francis I  to forbid the reading of Dante in
his dominions Hugh Capet, who came to the throne of France in
987, was however the grandson of Robert, who was the brother of
Eudes,  King of France in 888.
v. 52.  All save one.]  The posterity of Charlemagne, the second
race of French monarchs, had failed, with the exception of
Charles of Lorraine who is said, on account of the melancholy
temper of his mind, to have always clothed himself in black.
Venturi suggest that Dante may have confounded him with Childeric
III  the last of the Merosvingian, or first, race, who was
deposed and made a monk in 751.
v. 57.  My son.]  Hugh Capet caused his son Robert to be crowned
v. 59.  The Great dower of Provence.]  Louis IX, and his brother
Charles of Anjou, married two of the four daughters of Raymond
Berenger Count of Provence. See Par. Canto VI.  135.
v. 63.  For amends.]  This is ironical
v. 64.  Poitou it seiz'd, Navarre and Gascony.]  I venture to
Potti e Navarra prese e Guascogna,
Ponti e Normandia prese e Guascogna
Seiz'd Ponthieu, Normandy and Gascogny.
Landino has "Potti," and he is probably right for Poitou was
annexed to the French crown by Philip IV. See Henault, Abrege
Chron. A.D. l283, &c. Normandy had been united to it long before
by Philip Augustus, a circumstance of which it is difficult to
imagine that Dante should have been ignorant, but Philip IV, says
Henault, ibid., took the title of King of Navarre: and the
subjugation of Navarre is also alluded to in the
Paradise, Canto XIX. 140.  In 1293, Philip IV summoned Edward I.
to do him homage for the duchy of Gascogny, which he had
conceived the design of seizing.  See G. Villani, l. viii. c. 4.
v. 66.  Young Conradine.] Charles of Anjou put Conradine to death
in 1268; and became King of Naples. See Hell, Canto XXVIII, 16,
v. 67.  Th' angelic teacher.]  Thomas Aquinas.  He was reported
to have been poisoned by a physician, who wished to ingratiate
himself with Charles of Anjou.  G. Villani, I. ix.  c. 218.  We
shall find him in the Paradise, Canto X.
v. 69.  Another Charles.]  Charles of Valois, brother of Philip
IV, was sent  by Pope Boniface VIII to settle the disturbed state
of Florence. In consequence of the measures he adopted for that
purpose, our poet and his friend,  were condemned to exile and
v. 71.  -with that lance
Which the arch-traitor tilted with.]
con la lancia
Con la qual giostro Guida.
If I remember right, in one of the old romances, Judas is
represented tilting with our Saviour.
v. 78.  The other.]  Charles, King of Naples, the eldest son of
Charles of Anjou, having, contrary to the directions of his
father, engaged with Ruggier de Lauria, the admiral of Peter of
Arragon, was made prisoner and carried into Sicily, June, 1284.
He afterwards, in consideration of a large sum of money, married
his daughter to Azzo VI11, Marquis of Ferrara.
v. 85.  The flower-de-luce.]  Boniface VIII was seized at Alagna
in Campagna, by order of Philip IV., in the year 1303, and soon
after died of grief. G. Villani, 1.  viii. c. 63.
v. 94.  Into the temple.]  It is uncertain whether our Poet
alludes still to the event mentioned in the preceding Note, or to
the destruction of the order of the Templars in 1310, but the
latter appears more probable.
v. 103.  Pygmalion.]  Virg.  Aen.  1.  i. 348.
v. 107.  Achan.]  Joshua, c.  vii.
v. 111.  Heliodorus.]  2 Maccabees, c.  iii.  25.  "For there
appeared unto them a horse, with a terrible rider upon him, and
adorned with a very fair covering, and he ran fiercely and smote
at Heliodorus with his forefeet."
v. 112.  Thracia's king.]  Polymnestor, the murderer of
Polydorus. Hell, Canto XXX, 19.
v. 114.  Crassus.]  Marcus Crassus, who fell miserably in the
Parthian war. See Appian, Parthica.
v. 26.  She.]  Lachesis, one of the three fates.
v. 43.  --that, which heaven in itself
Doth of itself receive.]
Venturi, I think rightly interprets this to be light.
v. 49.  Thaumantian.]  Figlia di Taumante
[GREEK HERE]
Compare Plato, Theaet.  v. ii.  p. 76.  Bip.  edit., Virg; Aen.
ix. 5, and Spenser, Faery Queen, b. v. c. 3.  st. 25.
v. 85.  The name.]  The name of Poet.
v. 89.  From Tolosa.]  Dante, as many others have done, confounds
Statius the poet, who was a Neapolitan, with a rhetorician of the
same name, who was of Tolosa, or Thoulouse.  Thus Chaucer, Temple
of Fame, b. iii. The Tholason, that height Stace.
v. 94.  Fell.]  Statius lived to write only a small part of the
v. 5.  Blessed.]  Matt.  v. 6.
v. 14.  Aquinum's bard.]  Juvenal had celebrated his contemporary
Statius, Sat. vii.  82; though some critics imagine that there is
a secret derision couched under his praise.
v. 28.  Why.]  Quid non mortalia pecaora cogis
Anri sacra fames?
Virg. Aen. 1. iii. 57
Venturi supposes that Dante might have mistaken the meaning of
the word sacra, and construed it "holy," instead of "cursed."
But I see no necessity for having recourse to so improbable a
v. 41.  The fierce encounter.]  See Hell, Canto VII.  26.
v. 46.  With shorn locks.]  Ibid.  58.
v. 57.  The twin sorrow of Jocasta's womb.]  Eteocles and
v. 71.  A renovated world.]  Virg.  Ecl.  iv. 5
v. 100.  That Greek.]  Homer
v. 107.  Of thy train. ]  Of those celebrated in thy Poem."
v. 112.  Tiresias' daughter.]  Dante appears to have forgotten
that he had placed Manto, the daughter of Tiresias, among the
sorcerers. See Hell Canto XX.  Vellutello endeavours, rather
awkwardly, to reconcile the inconsistency, by observing, that
although she was placed there as a sinner, yet, as one of famous
memory, she had also a place among the worthies in Limbo.
Lombardi excuses our author better, by observing that Tiresias
had a daughter named Daphne.  See Diodorus Siculus, 1. iv. 66.
v. 139.  Mary took more thought.]  "The blessed virgin, who
answers for yon now in heaven, when she said to Jesus, at the
marriage in Cana of Galilee, 'they have no wine,' regarded not
the gratification of her own taste, but the honour of the nuptial
v. 142  The women of old Rome.] See Valerius Maximus, 1. ii. c.
v. 9.  My lips.]  Psalm ii.  15.
v. 20.  The eyes.]  Compare Ovid, Metam.  1. viii. 801
v. 26.  When Mary.]  Josephus, De Bello Jud. 1. vii. c. xxi. p.
954  Ed Genev.  fol. 1611. The shocking story is well told
v. 27.  Rings.]
In this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings
Their precious stones new lost.
Shakespeare, Lear, a. 5.  s.  3
v. 28.  Who reads the name.]  "He, who pretends to distinguish
the letters which form OMO in the features of the human face,
"might easily have traced out the M on their emaciated
countenances." The temples, nose, and forehead are supposed to
represent this letter; and the eyes the two O's
placed within each side of it.
v. 44.  Forese.]  One of the brothers of Piccarda, she who is
again spoken of in the next Canto, and introduced in the
Paradise, Canto III.
V. 72.  If the power.]  "If thou didst delay thy repentance to
the last, when thou hadst lost the power of sinning, how happens
it thou art arrived here so early?"
v. 76.  Lower.]  In the Ante-Purgatory.  See Canto II.
v. 80.  My Nella.]  The wife of Forese.
v. 87.  The tract most barb'rous of Sardinia's isle.]  The
Barbagia is part of Sardinia, to which that name was given, on
account of the uncivilized state of its inhabitants, who are said
to have gone nearly naked.
v. 91.  The' unblushing domes of Florence.]  Landino's note
exhibits a curious instance of the changeableness of his
countrywomen. He even goes beyond the acrimony of the original.
"In those days," says the commentator, "no less than in ours, the
Florentine ladies exposed the neck and bosom, a dress, no doubt,
more suitable to a harlot than a matron. But, as
they changed soon after, insomuch that they wore collars up to
the chin, covering the whole of the neck and throat, so have I
hopes they will change again; not indeed so much from motives of
decency, as through that fickleness, which pervades every action
of their lives."
v. 97.  Saracens.]  "This word, during the middle ages, was
indiscriminately applied to Pagans and Mahometans; in short, to
all nations (except the Jew's) who did not profess Christianity."
Mr. Ellis's specimens of Early English Metrical Romances, vol. i.
page 196, a note.  Lond.  8vo. 1805.
v. 20.  Buonaggiunta.]  Buonaggiunta Urbiciani, of Lucca.
"There is a canzone by this poet, printed in the collection made
by the Giunti, (p. 209,).land a sonnet to Guido Guinicelli in
that made by Corbinelli, (p 169,) from which we collect that he
lived not about 1230, as Quadrio supposes, (t. ii. p. 159,)  but
towards the end of the thirteenth century. Concerning, other
poems by Buonaggiunta, that are preserved in MS. in some
libraries, Crescimbeni may be consulted." Tiraboschi, Mr.
Matthias's ed. v. i. p. 115.
v. 23.  He was of Tours.]  Simon of Tours became Pope, with the
title of Martin IV in 1281 and died in 1285.
v. 29.  Ubaldino.]  Ubaldino degli Ubaldini, of Pila, in the
Florentine territory.
v.  30.  Boniface.]  Archbishop of Ravenna.  By Venturi he is
called Bonifazio de Fieschi, a Genoese, by Vellutello, the son of
the above, mentioned Ubaldini and by Laudino Francioso, a
v. 32.  The Marquis.]  The Marchese de' Rigogliosi, of Forli.
v. 38.  gentucca.]  Of this lady it is thought that our Poet
became enamoured during his exile.
v. 45.  Whose brow no wimple shades yet.]  "Who has not yet
assumed the dress of a woman."
v. 46.  Blame it as they may.]  See Hell, Canto XXI.  39.
v. 51.  Ladies, ye that con the lore of love.]Donne ch' avete
intelletto d'amore.The first verse of a canzone in our author's
v. 56.  The Notary.]  Jucopo da Lentino, called the Notary, a
poet of these times.  He was probably an Apulian: for Dante, (De
Vulg. Eloq. I. i. c 12.) quoting a verse which belongs to a
canzone of his published by the Giunti, without mentioning the
writer's name, terms him one of "the illustrious Apulians,"
praefulgentes Apuli. See Tiraboschi, Mr. Matthias's
edit.  vol. i. p. 137. Crescimbeni (1. i. Della Volg.  Poes p.
72. 4to. ed. 1698) gives an extract from one of his poems,
printed in Allacci's Collection, to show that the whimsical
compositions called "Ariette " are not of modern
v. 56.  Guittone.]  Fra Guittone, of Arezzo, holds a
distinguished place in Italian literature, as besides his poems
printed in the collection of the Giunti, he has left a collection
of letters, forty in number, which afford the earliest specimen
of that kind of writing in the language.  They were
published at Rome in 1743, with learned illustrations by Giovanni
Bottari.  He was also the first who gave to the sonnet its
regular and legitimate form, a species of composition in which
not only his own countrymen, but many of the best poets in all
the cultivated languages of modern Europe, have since so much
Guittone, a native of Arezzo, was the son of Viva di Michele.
He was of the order of the " Frati Godenti," of which an account
may be seen in the Notes to Hell, Canto XXIII.  In the year 1293,
he founded a monastery of the order of Camaldoli, in Florence,
and died in the following year.  Tiraboschi, Ibid.  p. 119.
Dante, in the Treatise de Vulg. Eloq.  1. i. c. 13, and 1. ii. c.
6., blames him for preferring the plebeian to the mor
courtly style; and Petrarch twice places him in the company of
our Poet. Triumph of Love, cap. iv. and Son. Par. See "Sennuccio
v. 63.  The birds.]  Hell, Canto V. 46, Euripides, Helena, 1495,
and Statius; Theb.  1.  V.  12.
v. 81.  He.]  Corso Donati was suspected of aiming at the
sovereignty of Florence.  To escape the fury of his fellow
citizens, he fled away on horseback, but failing, was overtaken
and slain, A.D. 1308.  The contemporary annalist, after relating
at length the circumstances of his fate, adds, "that he was one
of the wisest and most valorous knights the best speaker, the
most expert statesman, the most renowned and enterprising, man of
his age in Italy, a comely knight and of graceful carriage, but
very worldly, and in his time had formed many conspiracies in
Florence and entered into many scandalous practices, for the sake
of attaining state and lordship."  G. Villani, 1. viii. c.  96.
The character of Corso is forcibly drawn by another
of  his contemporaries Dino Compagni.  1.  iii., Muratori, Rer.
Ital. Script.  t. ix.  p. 523.
v. 129.  Creatures of the clouds.]  The Centaurs. Ovid. Met. 1.
fab.  4 v. 123.  The Hebrews.]  Judges, c. vii.
v. 58.  As sea-sponge.]  The fetus is in this stage is zoophyte.
v. 66.  -More wise
Than thou, has erred.]
Averroes is said to be here meant.  Venturi refers to his
commentary on Aristotle, De Anim 1. iii. c. 5. for the opinion
that there is only one universal intellect or mind pervading
every individual of the human race. Much of the knowledge
displayed by our Poet in the present Canto appears to have been
derived from the medical work o+ Averroes, called the Colliget.
Lib.  ii. f. 10.  Ven. 1400. fol.
v. 79.  Mark the sun's heat.]  Redi and Tiraboschi (Mr.
Matthias's ed. v. ii. p. 36.) have considered this an
anticipation of a profound discovery of Galileo's in natural
philosophy, but it is in reality taken from a passage in Cicero
"de Senectute," where, speaking of the grape, he says, " quae, et
succo terrae et calore solis augescens, primo
est peracerba gustatu, deinde maturata dulcescit."
v. 123.  I do, not know a man.]  Luke, c. i.  34.
v. 126.  Callisto.]  See Ovid, Met. 1. ii. fab. 5.
v. 70.  Caesar.]  For the opprobrium east on Caesar's effeminacy,
see Suetonius, Julius Caesar, c. 49.
v. 83.  Guinicelli.]  See Note to Canto XI.  96.
v. 87.  lycurgus.]  Statius, Theb.  1.  iv. and v. Hypsipile had
left her infant charge, the son of Lycurgus, on a bank, where it
was destroyed by a serpent, when she went to show the Argive army
the river of Langia: and, on her escaping the effects of
Lycurgus's resentment, the joy her own children felt at the sight
of her was such as our Poet felt on beholding his
predecessor Guinicelli.
The incidents are beautifully described in Statius, and seem to
have made an impression on Dante, for he again (Canto XXII. 110.)
characterizes Hypsipile, as her-
Who show'd Langia's wave.
v. 111.  He.]  The united testimony of Dante, and of Petrarch,
in his Triumph of Love, e. iv.  places Arnault Daniel at the head
of the Provencal poets. That he was born of poor but noble
parents, at the castle of Ribeyrae in Perigord, and that he was
at the English court, is the amount of Millot's information
concerning him (t. ii. p. 479).
The account there given of his writings is not much more
satisfactory, and the criticism on them must go for little better
than nothing.
It is to be regretted that we have not an opportunity of judging
for ourselves of his "love ditties and his tales of prose "
Versi d'amore e prose di romanzi.
Our Poet frequently cities him in the work De Vulgari Eloquentia.
According to Crescimbeni, (Della Volg. Poes. 1. 1. p. 7. ed.
1698.) He died in 1189.
v. 113.  The songster of Limoges.]  Giraud de Borneil, of
Sideuil, a castle in Limoges.  He was a troubadour, much admired
and caressed in his day, and appears to have been in favour with
the monarchs of Castile, Leon, Navarre, and Arragon He is quoted
by Dante, De Vulg. Eloq., and many of his poems are still
remaining in MS. According to Nostradamus he died in 1278.
Millot, Hist. Litt. des Troub. t. ii. p. 1 and 23.  But I suspect
that there is some error in this date, and that he did not live
to see so late a period.
v. 118.  Guittone.]  See Cano XXIV. 56.
v. 123.  Far as needs.]  See Canto XI. 23.
v. 132.  Thy courtesy.]  Arnault is here made to speak in his own
tongue, the Provencal.  According to Dante, (De Vulg. Eloq. 1. 1.
c. 8.) the Provencal was one language with the Spanish.  What he
says on this subject is so curious, that the reader will perhaps
not be displeased it I give an abstract of it.
He first makes three great divisions of the European languages.
"One of these extends from the mouths of the Danube, or the lake
of Maeotis, to the western limits of England, and is bounded by
the limits of the French and Italians, and by the ocean. One
idiom obtained over the whole of this space: but was
afterwards subdivided into, the Sclavonian, Hungarian, Teutonic,
Saxon, English, and the vernacular tongues of several other
people, one sign remaining to all, that they use the affirmative
io, (our English ay.)  The whole of Europe, beginning from the
Hungarian limits and stretching towards the east, has a second
idiom which reaches still further than the end of Europe into
Asia. This is the Greek.  In all that remains of Europe, there is
a third idiom subdivided into three dialects, which may be
severally distinguished by the use of the affirmatives, oc, oil,
and si; the first spoken by the Spaniards, the next by the
French, and the third by the Latins (or Italians).  The first
occupy the western part of southern Europe, beginning from the
limits of the Genoese.  The third occupy the eastern part
from the said limits, as far, that is, as the promontory of
Italy, where the Adriatic sea begins, and to Sicily. The second
are in a manner northern with respect to these for they have the
Germans to the east and north, on the west they are bounded by
the English sea, and the mountains of Arragon, and on the
south by the people of Provence and the declivity of the
Apennine." Ibid.  c. x. "Each of these three," he observes, "has
its own claims to distinction The excellency of the French
language consists in its being best adapted, on account of its
facility and agreeableness, to prose narration, (quicquid
redactum, sive inventum est ad vulgare prosaicum suum
est); and he instances the books compiled on the gests of the
Trojans and Romans and the delightful adventures of King Arthur,
with many other histories and works of instruction. The Spanish
(or Provencal) may boast of its having produced such
as first cultivated in this as in a more perfect and sweet
language, the vernacular poetry: among whom are Pierre
d'Auvergne, and others more ancient.
The privileges of the Latin, or Italian are two:  first that it
may reckon for its own those writers who have adopted a more
sweet and subtle style of poetry, in the number of whom are Cino,
da Pistoia and his friend, and the next, that its writers seem to
adhere to, certain general rules of grammar, and in so doing give
it, in the opinion of the intelligent, a very weighty pretension
to preference."
v. 1.  The sun.]  At Jerusalem it was dawn, in Spain midnight,
and in India noonday, while it was sunset in Purgatory
v. 10.  Blessed.]  Matt. c. v. 8.
v. 57.  Come.]  Matt.  c. xxv. 34.
v. 102.  I am Leah.]  By Leah is understood the active life, as
Rachel figures the contemplative. The divinity is the mirror in
which the latter looks. Michel Angelo has made these allegorical
personages the subject of two statues on the monument of Julius
II. in the church of S. Pietro in Vincolo. See Mr. Duppa's Life
of Michel Angelo, Sculpture viii. And x. and p 247.
v. 135.  Those bright eyes.]  The eyes of Beatrice.
CANTO XXVIII
v. 11.  To that part.]  The west.
v. 14.  The feather'd quiristers] Imitated by Boccaccio,
Fiammetta, 1. iv. "Odi i queruli uccelli," &c. --"Hear the
querulous birds plaining with sweet songs, and the boughs
trembling, and, moved by a gentle wind, as it were keeping tenor
to their notes."
v. 7.  A pleasant air.]  Compare Ariosto, O. F. c. xxxiv. st. 50.
v. Chiassi.]  This is the wood where the scene of Boccaccio's
sublimest story is laid. See Dec.  g. 5. n. 8. and Dryden's
Theodore and Honoria Our Poet perhaps wandered in it daring his
abode with Guido Novello da Polenta.
v. 41.  A lady.]  Most of the commentators suppose, that by this
lady, who in the last Canto is called Matilda, is to be
understood the Countess Matilda, who endowed the holy see with
the estates called the Patrimony of St. Peter,
and died in 1115. See G. Villani, 1. iv. e. 20 But it seems more
probable that she should be intended for an allegorical
v. 80.  Thou, Lord  hast made me glad.]  Psalm xcii. 4
v. 146.  On the Parnassian mountain.]
In bicipiti somniasse Parnasso.
Persius  Prol.
v. 76.  Listed colours.]
Di sette liste tutte in quel colori, &c.
Conspicuous with three listed colours gay.
Milton, P. L. b. xi.  865.
v. 79.  Ten paces.]  For an explanation of the allegorical
meaning of this mysterious procession, Venturi refers those "who
would see in the dark" to the commentaries of Landino,
Vellutello, and others: and adds that it is evident the Poet has
accommodated to his own fancy many sacred images in the
Apocalypse.  In Vasari's Life of Giotto, we learn that Dante
recommended that book to his friend, as affording fit
subjects for his pencil.
v. 89.  Four.]  The four evangelists.
v. 96.  Ezekiel.]  Chap. 1.  4.
v. 101.  John.]  Rev. c. iv.  8.
v. 104.  Gryphon.]  Under the Gryphon, an imaginary creature, the
forepart of which is an eagle, and the hinder a lion, is shadowed
forth the union of the divine and human nature in Jesus Christ.
The car is the church.
v. 115.  Tellus' prayer.]  Ovid, Met.  1. ii. v. 279.
v. 116.  'Three nymphs.]  The three evangelical virtues: the
first Charity, the next Hope, and the third Faith.  Faith may be
produced by charity, or charity by faith, but the inducements to
hope must arise either from one or other of these.
v. 125.  A band quaternion.]  The four moral or cardinal virtues,
of whom Prudence directs the others.
v. 129.  Two old men.]  Saint Luke, characterized as the writer
of the Arts of the Apostles and Saint Paul.
v. 133.  Of the great Coan.]  Hippocrates, "whom nature made for
the benefit of her favourite creature, man."
v. 138.  Four others.]  "The commentators," says Venturi;
"suppose these four to be the four evangelists, but I should
rather take them to be four principal doctors of the church."
Yet both Landino and Vellutello expressly call them the authors
of the epistles, James, Peter, John and Jude.
v. 140.  One single old man.]  As some say, St. John, under his
character of the author of the Apocalypse.  But in the poem
attributed to Giacopo, the son of our Poet, which in some MSS,
accompanies the original of this work, and is descriptive of its
plan, this old man is said to be Moses.
E'l vecchio, ch' era dietro a tutti loro
And the old man, who was behind them all,
See No. 3459 of the Harl.  MSS. in the British Museum.
v. 1.  The polar light.]  The seven candlesticks.
v. 12.  Come.]  Song of Solomon, c. iv. 8.
v. 19.  Blessed.]  Matt.  c. xxi. 9.
v. 20.  From full hands.] Virg.  Aen 1. vi. 884.
v. 97.  The old flame.]
Agnosco veteris vestigia flammae
Virg.  Aen. I. I. 23.
Conosco i segni dell' antico fuoco.
Giusto de' Conti, La Bella Mano.
v. 61.  Nor.]  "Not all the beauties of the terrestrial Paradise;
in which I was, were sufficient to allay my grief."
v. 85.  But.]  They sang the thirty-first Psalm, to the end of
the eighth verse.
v. 87.  The living rafters.]  The leafless woods on the Apennine.
v. 90.  The land whereon no shadow falls.]  "When the wind blows,
from off Africa, where, at the time of the equinox, bodies being
under the equator cast little or no shadow; or, in other words,
when the wind is south."
v. 98.  The ice.]  Milton has transferred this conceit, though
scarcely worth the pains of removing, into one of his Italian
v. 3.  With lateral edge.]  The words of Beatrice, when not
addressed directly to himself, but speaking to the angel of hell,
Dante had thought sufficiently harsh.
v. 39.  Counter to the edge.]  "The weapons of divine justice are
blunted by the confession and sorrow of the offender."
v. 58.  Bird.]  Prov. c. i. 17
v. 69.  From Iarbas' land.]  The south.
v. 71.  The beard.]  "I perceived, that when she desired me to
raise my beard, instead of telling me to lift up my head, a
severe reflection was implied on my want of that wisdom which
should accompany the age of manhood."
v. 98.  Tu asperges me.]  A prayer repeated by the priest at
sprinkling the holy water.
v. 106.  And in the heaven are stars.]  See Canto I. 24.
v. 116.  The emeralds.]  The eyes of Beatrice.
v. 2.  Their ten years' thirst.]  Beatrice had been dead ten
v. 9.  Two fix'd a gaze.]  The allegorical interpretation of
Vellutello whether it be considered as justly terrible from the
text or not, conveys so useful a lesson, that it deserves our
notice. "The understanding is sometimes so intently engaged in
contemplating the light of divine truth in the scriptures, that
it becomes dazzled, and is made less capable of attaining
such knowledge, than if it had sought after it with greater
v. 39.  Its tresses.]  Daniel, c. iv.  10, &c.
v. 41.  The Indians.]
Quos oceano proprior gerit India lucos.
Virg. Georg.  1. ii. 122,
Such as at this day to Indians known.
Milton, P. L. b. ix. 1102.
v. 51.  When large floods of radiance.]  When the sun enters into
Aries, the constellation next to that of the Fish.
v. 63.  Th' unpitying eyes.]  See Ovid, Met. 1. i. 689.
v. 74.  The blossoming of that fair tree.]  Our Saviour's
transfiguration.
v. 97.  Those lights.]  The tapers of gold.
v. 101.  That true Rome.]  Heaven.
v. 110.  The bird of Jove.]  This, which is imitated from
Ezekiel, c. xvii. 3, 4.  appears to be typical of the
persecutions which the church sustained from the Roman Emperors.
v. 118.  A fox.]  By the fox perhaps is represented the treachery
of the heretics.
v. 124.  With his feathers lin'd.].  An allusion to the donations
made by the Roman Emperors to the church.
v. 130.  A dragon.]  Probably Mahomet.
v. 136.  With plumes.]  The donations before mentioned.
v. 142.  Heads.]  By the seven heads, it is supposed with
sufficient probability, are meant the seven capital sins, by the
three with two horns, pride, anger, and avarice, injurious both
to man himself and to his neighbor: by the four with one horn,
gluttony, lukewarmness, concupiscence, and envy, hurtful, at
least in their primary effects, chiefly to him who is
guilty of them.
v. 146.  O'er it.]  The harlot is thought to represent the state
of the church under Boniface VIII and the giant to figure Philip
IV of France.
v. 155.  Dragg'd on.]  The removal of the Pope's residence from
Rome to Avignon is pointed at.
CANTO XXXIII
v. 1.  The Heathen.]  Psalm lxxix.  1.
v. 36.  Hope not to scare God's vengeance with a sop.]  "Let not
him who hath occasioned the destruction of the church, that
vessel which the serpent brake, hope to appease the anger of the
Deity by any outward acts of religious, or rather superstitious,
ceremony, such as was that, in our poet's time, performed by a
murderer at Florence, who imagined himself secure from vengeance,
if he ate a sop of bread in wine, upon the grave of the person
murdered, within the space of nine days."
v. 38.  That eagle.]  He prognosticates that the Emperor of
Germany will not always continue to submit to the usurpations of
the Pope, and foretells the coming of Henry VII Duke of
Luxembourg signified by the numerical figures DVX; or, as
Lombardi supposes, of Can Grande della Scala, appointed the
leader of the Ghibelline forces. It is unnecessary to point out
the imitation of the Apocalypse in the manner of this prophecy.
v. 50.  The Naiads.]  Dante, it is observed, has been led into a
mistake by a corruption in the text of Ovid's Metam.  I.  vii.
75, where he found-
Carmina Naiades non intellecta priorum;
instead of Carmina Laiades, &c. as it has been since corrected.
Lombardi refers to Pansanias, where "the Nymphs" are spoken of as
expounders of oracles for a vindication of the poet's accuracy.
Should the reader blame me for not departing from the error of
the original (if error it be), he may substitute
Events shall be the Oedipus will solve, &c.
v. 67.  Elsa's numbing waters.]  The Elsa, a little stream, which
flows into the Arno about twenty miles below Florence, is said to
possess a petrifying quality.
v. 78.  That one brings home his staff inwreath'd with palm.]
"For the same cause that the pilgrim, returning from Palestine,
brings home his staff, or bourdon, bound with palm," that is, to
show where he has been.
Che si reca 'I bordon di palma cinto.
"In regard to the word bourdon, why it has been applied to a
pilgrim's staff, it is not easy to guess.  I believe, however
that this name has been given to such sort of staves, because
pilgrims usually travel and perform their pilgrimages on foot,
their staves serving them instead of horses or mules, then called
bourdons and burdones, by writers in the middle ages."
Mr. Johnes's Translation of Joinville's Memoirs.
Dissertation xv, by M. du Cange p. 152.  4to. edit.
The word is thrice used by Chaucer in the Romaunt of the Rose.
His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,
Pierces the universe, and in one part
Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.  In heav'n,
That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,
Witness of things, which to relate again
Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence;
For that, so near approaching its desire
Our intellect is to such depth absorb'd,
That memory cannot follow.  Nathless all,
That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm
Could store, shall now be matter of my song.
     Benign Apollo!  this last labour aid,
And make me such a vessel of thy worth,
As thy own laurel claims of me belov'd.
Thus far hath one of steep Parnassus' brows
Suffic'd me; henceforth there is need of both
For my remaining enterprise Do thou
Enter into my bosom, and there breathe
So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg'd
Forth from his limbs unsheath'd.  O power divine!
If thou to me of shine impart so much,
That of that happy realm the shadow'd form
Trac'd in my thoughts I may set forth to view,
Thou shalt behold me of thy favour'd tree
Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves;
For to that honour thou, and my high theme
Will fit me.  If but seldom, mighty Sire!
To grace his triumph gathers thence a wreath
Caesar or bard (more shame for human wills
Deprav'd) joy to the Delphic god must spring
From the Pierian foliage, when one breast
Is with such thirst inspir'd.  From a small spark
Great flame hath risen: after me perchance
Others with better voice may pray, and gain
From the Cirrhaean city answer kind.
     Through diver passages, the world's bright lamp
Rises to mortals, but through that which joins
Four circles with the threefold cross, in best
Course, and in happiest constellation set
He comes, and to the worldly wax best gives
Its temper and impression.  Morning there,
Here eve was by almost such passage made;
And whiteness had o'erspread that hemisphere,
Blackness the other part; when to the left
I saw Beatrice turn'd, and on the sun
Gazing, as never eagle fix'd his ken.
As from the first a second beam is wont
To issue, and reflected upwards rise,
E'en as a pilgrim bent on his return,
So of her act, that through the eyesight pass'd
Into my fancy, mine was form'd; and straight,
Beyond our mortal wont, I fix'd mine eyes
Upon the sun.  Much is allowed us there,
That here exceeds our pow'r; thanks to the place
Made for the dwelling of the human kind
     I suffer'd it not long, and yet so long
That I beheld it bick'ring sparks around,
As iron that comes boiling from the fire.
And suddenly upon the day appear'd
A day new-ris'n, as he, who hath the power,
Had with another sun bedeck'd the sky.
     Her eyes fast fix'd on the eternal wheels,
Beatrice stood unmov'd; and I with ken
Fix'd upon her, from upward gaze remov'd
At her aspect, such inwardly became
As Glaucus, when he tasted of the herb,
That made him peer among the ocean gods;
Words may not tell of that transhuman change:
And therefore let the example serve, though weak,
For those whom grace hath better proof in store
     If I were only what thou didst create,
Then newly, Love!  by whom the heav'n is rul'd,
Thou know'st, who by thy light didst bear me up.
Whenas the wheel which thou dost ever guide,
Desired Spirit!  with its harmony
Temper'd of thee and measur'd, charm'd mine ear,
Then seem'd to me so much of heav'n to blaze
With the sun's flame, that rain or flood ne'er made
A lake so broad.  The newness of the sound,
And that great light, inflam'd me with desire,
Keener than e'er was felt, to know their cause.
     Whence she who saw me, clearly as myself,
To calm my troubled mind, before I ask'd,
Open'd her lips, and gracious thus began:
"With false imagination thou thyself
Mak'st dull, so that thou seest not the thing,
Which thou hadst seen, had that been shaken off.
Thou art not on the earth as thou believ'st;
For light'ning scap'd from its own proper place
Ne'er ran, as thou hast hither now return'd."
     Although divested of my first-rais'd doubt,
By those brief words, accompanied with smiles,
Yet in new doubt was I entangled more,
And said:  "Already satisfied, I rest
From admiration deep, but now admire
How I above those lighter bodies rise."
     Whence, after utt'rance of a piteous sigh,
She tow'rds me bent her eyes, with such a look,
As on her frenzied child a mother casts;
Then thus began:  "Among themselves all things
Have order; and from hence the form, which makes
The universe resemble God.  In this
The higher creatures see the printed steps
Of that eternal worth, which is the end
Whither the line is drawn.  All natures lean,
In this their order, diversely, some more,
Some less approaching to their primal source.
Thus they to different havens are mov'd on
Through the vast sea of being, and each one
With instinct giv'n, that bears it in its course;
This to the lunar sphere directs the fire,
This prompts the hearts of mortal animals,
This the brute earth together knits, and binds.
Nor only creatures, void of intellect,
Are aim'd at by this bow; hut even those,
That have intelligence and love, are pierc'd.
That Providence, who so well orders all,
With her own light makes ever calm the heaven,
In which the substance, that hath greatest speed,
Is turn'd: and thither now, as to our seat
Predestin'd, we are carried by the force
Of that strong cord, that never looses dart,
But at fair aim and glad.  Yet is it true,
That as ofttimes but ill accords the form
To the design of art, through sluggishness
Of unreplying matter, so this course
Is sometimes quitted by the creature, who
Hath power, directed thus, to bend elsewhere;
As from a cloud the fire is seen to fall,
From its original impulse warp'd, to earth,
By vicious fondness.  Thou no more admire
Thy soaring, (if I rightly deem,) than lapse
Of torrent downwards from a mountain's height.
There would in thee for wonder be more cause,
If, free of hind'rance, thou hadst fix'd thyself
Below, like fire unmoving on the earth."
     So said, she turn'd toward the heav'n her face.
All ye, who in small bark have following sail'd,
Eager to listen, on the advent'rous track
Of my proud keel, that singing cuts its way,
Backward return with speed, and your own shores
Revisit, nor put out to open sea,
Where losing me, perchance ye may remain
Bewilder'd in deep maze.  The way I pass
Ne'er yet was run: Minerva breathes the gale,
Apollo guides me, and another Nine
To my rapt sight the arctic beams reveal.
Ye other few, who have outstretch'd the neck.
Timely for food of angels, on which here
They live, yet never know satiety,
Through the deep brine ye fearless may put out
Your vessel, marking, well the furrow broad
Before you in the wave, that on both sides
Equal returns.  Those, glorious, who pass'd o'er
To Colchos, wonder'd not as ye will do,
When they saw Jason following the plough.
     The increate perpetual thirst, that draws
Toward the realm of God's own form, bore us
Swift almost as the heaven ye behold.
     Beatrice upward gaz'd, and I on her,
And in such space as on the notch a dart
Is plac'd, then loosen'd flies, I saw myself
Arriv'd, where wond'rous thing engag'd my sight.
Whence she, to whom no work of mine was hid,
Turning to me, with aspect glad as fair,
Bespake me: "Gratefully direct thy mind
To God, through whom to this first star we come."
     Me seem'd as if a cloud had cover'd us,
Translucent, solid, firm, and polish'd bright,
Like adamant, which the sun's beam had smit
Within itself the ever-during pearl
Receiv'd us, as the wave a ray of light
Receives, and rests unbroken.  If I then
Was of corporeal frame, and it transcend
Our weaker thought, how one dimension thus
Another could endure, which needs must be
If body enter body, how much more
Must the desire inflame us to behold
That essence, which discovers by what means
God and our nature join'd!  There will be seen
That which we hold through faith, not shown by proof,
But in itself intelligibly plain,
E'en as the truth that man at first believes.
     I answered:  "Lady!  I with thoughts devout,
Such as I best can frame, give thanks to Him,
Who hath remov'd me from the mortal world.
But tell, I pray thee, whence the gloomy spots
Upon this body, which below on earth
Give rise to talk of Cain in fabling quaint?"
     She somewhat smil'd, then spake:  "If mortals err
In their opinion, when the key of sense
Unlocks not, surely wonder's weapon keen
Ought not to pierce thee; since thou find'st, the wings
Of reason to pursue the senses' flight
Are short.  But what thy own thought is, declare."
     Then I:  "What various here above appears,
Is caus'd, I deem, by bodies dense or rare."
     She then resum'd:  "Thou certainly wilt see
In falsehood thy belief o'erwhelm'd, if well
Thou listen to the arguments, which I
Shall bring to face it.  The eighth sphere displays
Numberless lights, the which in kind and size
May be remark'd of different aspects;
If rare or dense of that were cause alone,
One single virtue then would be in all,
Alike distributed, or more, or less.
Different virtues needs must be the fruits
Of formal principles, and these, save one,
Will by thy reasoning be destroy'd.  Beside,
If rarity were of that dusk the cause,
Which thou inquirest, either in some part
That planet must throughout be void, nor fed
With its own matter; or, as bodies share
Their fat and leanness, in like manner this
Must in its volume change the leaves.  The first,
If it were true, had through the sun's eclipse
Been manifested, by transparency
Of light, as through aught rare beside effus'd.
But this is not.  Therefore remains to see
The other cause: and if the other fall,
Erroneous so must prove what seem'd to thee.
If not from side to side this rarity
Pass through, there needs must be a limit, whence
Its contrary no further lets it pass.
And hence the beam, that from without proceeds,
Must be pour'd back, as colour comes, through glass
Reflected, which behind it lead conceals.
Now wilt thou say, that there of murkier hue
Than in the other part the ray is shown,
By being thence refracted farther back.
From this perplexity will free thee soon
Experience, if thereof thou trial make,
The fountain whence your arts derive their streame.
Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove
From thee alike, and more remote the third.
Betwixt the former pair, shall meet thine eyes;
Then turn'd toward them, cause behind thy back
A light to stand, that on the three shall shine,
And thus reflected come to thee from all.
Though that beheld most distant do not stretch
A space so ample, yet in brightness thou
Will own it equaling the rest.  But now,
As under snow the ground, if the warm ray
Smites it, remains dismantled of the hue
And cold, that cover'd it before, so thee,
Dismantled in thy mind, I will inform
With light so lively, that the tremulous beam
Shall quiver where it falls.  Within the heaven,
Where peace divine inhabits, circles round
A body, in whose virtue dies the being
Of all that it contains.  The following heaven,
That hath so many lights, this being divides,
Through  different essences, from it distinct,
And yet contain'd within it.  The other orbs
Their separate distinctions variously
Dispose, for their own seed and produce apt.
Thus do these organs of the world proceed,
As thou beholdest now, from step to step,
Their influences from above deriving,
And thence transmitting downwards.  Mark me well,
How through this passage to the truth I ford,
The truth thou lov'st, that thou henceforth alone,
May'st know to keep the shallows, safe, untold.
     "The virtue and motion of the sacred orbs,
As mallet by the workman's hand, must needs
By blessed movers be inspir'd.  This heaven,
Made beauteous by so many luminaries,
From the deep spirit, that moves its circling sphere,
Its image takes an impress as a seal:
And as the soul, that dwells within your dust,
Through members different, yet together form'd,
In different pow'rs resolves itself; e'en so
The intellectual efficacy unfolds
Its goodness multiplied throughout the stars;
On its own unity revolving still.
Different virtue compact different
Makes with the precious body it enlivens,
With which it knits, as life in you is knit.
From its original nature full of joy,
The virtue mingled through the body shines,
As joy through pupil of the living eye.
From hence proceeds, that which from light to light
Seems different, and not from dense or rare.
This is the formal cause, that generates
Proportion'd to its power, the dusk or clear."
That sun, which erst with love my bosom warm'd
Had of fair truth unveil'd the sweet aspect,
By proof of right, and of the false reproof;
And I, to own myself convinc'd and free
Of doubt, as much as needed, rais'd my head
Erect for speech.  But soon a sight appear'd,
Which, so intent to mark it, held me fix'd,
That of confession I no longer thought.
     As through translucent and smooth glass, or wave
Clear and unmov'd, and flowing not so deep
As that its bed is dark, the shape returns
So faint of our impictur'd lineaments,
That on white forehead set a pearl as strong
Comes to the eye: such saw I many a face,
All stretch'd to speak, from whence I straight conceiv'd
Delusion opposite to that, which rais'd
Between the man and fountain, amorous flame.
     Sudden, as I perceiv'd them, deeming these
Reflected semblances to see of whom
They were, I turn'd mine eyes, and nothing saw;
Then turn'd them back, directed on the light
Of my sweet guide, who smiling shot forth beams
From her celestial eyes.  "Wonder not thou,"
She cry'd, "at this my smiling, when I see
Thy childish judgment; since not yet on truth
It rests the foot, but, as it still is wont,
Makes thee fall back in unsound vacancy.
True substances are these, which thou behold'st,
Hither through failure of their vow exil'd.
But speak thou with them; listen, and believe,
That the true light, which fills them with desire,
Permits not from its beams their feet to stray."
     Straight to the shadow which for converse seem'd
Most earnest, I addressed me, and began,
As one by over-eagerness perplex'd:
"O spirit, born for joy!  who in the rays
Of life eternal, of that sweetness know'st
The flavour, which, not tasted, passes far
All apprehension, me it well would please,
If thou wouldst tell me of thy name, and this
Your station here." Whence she, with kindness prompt,
And eyes glist'ning with smiles:  "Our charity,
To any wish by justice introduc'd,
Bars not the door, no more than she above,
Who would have all her court be like herself.
I was a virgin sister in the earth;
And if thy mind observe me well, this form,
With such addition grac'd of loveliness,
Will not conceal me long, but thou wilt know
Piccarda, in the tardiest sphere thus plac'd,
Here 'mid these other blessed also blest.
Our hearts, whose high affections burn alone
With pleasure, from the Holy Spirit conceiv'd,
Admitted to his order dwell in joy.
And this condition, which appears so low,
Is for this cause assign'd us, that our vows
Were in some part neglected and made void."
     Whence I to her replied:  "Something divine
Beams in your countenance, wond'rous fair,
From former knowledge quite transmuting you.
Therefore to recollect was I so slow.
But what thou sayst hath to my memory
Given now such aid, that to retrace your forms
Is easier.  Yet inform me, ye, who here
Are happy, long ye for a higher place
More to behold, and more in love to dwell?"
     She with those other spirits gently smil'd,
Then answer'd with such gladness, that she seem'd
With love's first flame to glow:  "Brother!  our will
Is in composure settled by the power
Of charity, who makes us will alone
What we possess, and nought beyond desire;
If we should wish to be exalted more,
Then must our wishes jar with the high will
Of him, who sets us here, which in these orbs
Thou wilt confess not possible, if here
To be in charity must needs befall,
And if her nature well thou contemplate.
Rather it is inherent in this state
Of blessedness, to keep ourselves within
The divine will, by which our wills with his
Are one.  So that as we from step to step
Are plac'd throughout this kingdom, pleases all,
E'en as our King, who in us plants his will;
And in his will is our tranquillity;
It is the mighty ocean, whither tends
Whatever it creates and nature makes."
     Then saw I clearly how each spot in heav'n
Is Paradise, though with like gracious dew
The supreme virtue show'r not over all.
     But as it chances, if one sort of food
Hath satiated, and of another still
The appetite remains, that this is ask'd,
And thanks for that return'd; e'en so did I
In word and motion, bent from her to learn
What web it was, through which she had not drawn
The shuttle to its point.  She thus began:
"Exalted worth and perfectness of life
The Lady higher up enshrine in heaven,
By whose pure laws upon your nether earth
The robe and veil they wear, to that intent,
That e'en till death they may keep watch or sleep
With their great bridegroom, who accepts each vow,
Which to his gracious pleasure love conforms.
from the world, to follow her, when young
Escap'd; and, in her vesture mantling me,
Made promise of the way her sect enjoins.
Thereafter men, for ill than good more apt,
Forth snatch'd me from the pleasant cloister's pale.
God knows how after that my life was fram'd.
This other splendid shape, which thou beholdst
At my right side, burning with all the light
Of this our orb, what of myself I tell
May to herself apply.  From her, like me
A sister, with like violence were torn
The saintly folds, that shaded her fair brows.
E'en when she to the world again was brought
In spite of her own will and better wont,
Yet not for that the bosom's inward veil
Did she renounce.  This is the luminary
Of mighty Constance, who from that loud blast,
Which blew the second over Suabia's realm,
That power produc'd, which was the third and last."
     She ceas'd from further talk, and then began
"Ave Maria" singing, and with that song
Vanish'd, as heavy substance through deep wave.
     Mine eye, that far as it was capable,
Pursued her, when in dimness she was lost,
Turn'd to the mark where greater want impell'd,
And bent on Beatrice all its gaze.
But she as light'ning beam'd upon my looks:
So that the sight sustain'd it not at first.
Whence I to question her became less prompt.
Between two kinds of food, both equally
Remote and tempting, first a man might die
Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose.
E'en so would stand a lamb between the maw
Of two fierce wolves, in dread of both alike:
E'en so between two deer a dog would stand,
Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise
I to myself impute, by equal doubts
Held in suspense, since of necessity
It happen'd.  Silent was I, yet desire
Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake
My wish more earnestly than language could.
     As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed
From ire, that spurr'd him on to deeds unjust
And violent; so look'd Beatrice then.
     "Well I discern," she thus her words address'd,
"How contrary desires each way constrain thee,
So that thy anxious thought is in itself
Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth.
Thou arguest; if the good intent remain;
What reason that another's violence
Should stint the measure of my fair desert?
     "Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems,
That spirits to the stars, as Plato deem'd,
Return.  These are the questions which thy will
Urge equally; and therefore I the first
Of that will treat which hath the more of gall.
Of seraphim he who is most ensky'd,
Moses and Samuel, and either John,
Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary's self,
Have not in any other heav'n their seats,
Than have those spirits which so late thou saw'st;
Nor more or fewer years exist; but all
Make the first circle beauteous, diversely
Partaking of sweet life, as more or less
Afflation of eternal bliss pervades them.
Here were they shown thee, not that fate assigns
This for their sphere, but for a sign to thee
Of that celestial furthest from the height.
Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak:
Since from things sensible alone ye learn
That, which digested rightly after turns
To intellectual.  For no other cause
The scripture, condescending graciously
To your perception, hands and feet to God
Attributes, nor so means: and holy church
Doth represent with human countenance
Gabriel, and Michael, and him who made
Tobias whole.  Unlike what here thou seest,
The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms
Each soul restor'd to its particular star,
Believing it to have been taken thence,
When nature gave it to inform her mold:
Since to appearance his intention is
E'en what his words declare: or else to shun
Derision, haply thus he hath disguis'd
His true opinion.  If his meaning be,
That to the influencing of these orbs revert
The honour and the blame in human acts,
Perchance he doth not wholly miss the truth.
This principle, not understood aright,
Erewhile perverted well nigh all the world;
So that it fell to fabled names of Jove,
And Mercury, and Mars.  That other doubt,
Which moves thee, is less harmful; for it brings
No peril of removing thee from me.
     "That, to the eye of man, our justice seems
Unjust, is argument for faith, and not
For heretic declension.  To the end
This truth may stand more clearly in your view,
I will content thee even to thy wish
     "If violence be, when that which suffers, nought
Consents to that which forceth, not for this
These spirits stood exculpate.  For the will,
That will not, still survives unquench'd, and doth
As nature doth in fire, tho' violence
Wrest it a thousand times; for, if it yield
Or more or less, so far it follows force.
And thus did these, whom they had power to seek
The hallow'd place again.  In them, had will
Been perfect, such as once upon the bars
Held Laurence firm, or wrought in Scaevola
To his own hand remorseless, to the path,
Whence they were drawn, their steps had hasten'd back,
When liberty return'd: but in too few
Resolve so steadfast dwells.  And by these words
If duly weigh'd, that argument is void,
Which oft might have perplex'd thee still.  But now
Another question thwarts thee, which to solve
Might try thy patience without better aid.
I have, no doubt, instill'd into thy mind,
That blessed spirit may not lie; since near
The source of primal truth it dwells for aye:
And thou might'st after of Piccarda learn
That Constance held affection to the veil;
So that she seems to contradict me here.
Not seldom, brother, it hath chanc'd for men
To do what they had gladly left undone,
Yet to shun peril they have done amiss:
E'en as Alcmaeon, at his father's suit
Slew his own mother, so made pitiless
Not to lose pity.  On this point bethink thee,
That force and will are blended in such wise
As not to make the' offence excusable.
Absolute will agrees not to the wrong,
That inasmuch as there is fear of woe
From non-compliance, it agrees.  Of will
Thus absolute Piccarda spake, and I
Of th' other; so that both have truly said."
     Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well'd
From forth the fountain of all truth; and such
The rest, that to my wond'ring thoughts l found.
      "O thou of primal love the prime delight!
Goddess!  "I straight reply'd, "whose lively words
Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul!
Affection fails me to requite thy grace
With equal sum of gratitude: be his
To recompense, who sees and can reward thee.
Well I discern, that by that truth alone
Enlighten'd, beyond which no truth may roam,
Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know:
Therein she resteth, e'en as in his lair
The wild beast, soon as she hath reach'd that bound,
And she hath power to reach it; else desire
Were given to no end.  And thence doth doubt
Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth;
And it is nature which from height to height
On to the summit prompts us.  This invites,
This doth assure me, lady, rev'rently
To ask thee of other truth, that yet
Is dark to me.  I fain would know, if man
By other works well done may so supply
The failure of his vows, that in your scale
They lack not weight."  I spake; and on me straight
Beatrice look'd with eyes that shot forth sparks
Of love celestial in such copious stream,
That, virtue sinking in me overpower'd,
I turn'd, and downward bent confus'd my sight.
"If beyond earthly wont, the flame of love
Illume me, so that I o'ercome thy power
Of vision, marvel not: but learn the cause
In that perfection of the sight, which soon
As apprehending, hasteneth on to reach
The good it apprehends.  I well discern,
How in thine intellect already shines
The light eternal, which to view alone
Ne'er fails to kindle love; and if aught else
Your love seduces, 't is but that it shows
Some ill-mark'd vestige of that primal beam.
     "This would'st thou know, if failure of the vow
By other service may be so supplied,
As from self-question to assure the soul."
     Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish,
Began; and thus, as one who breaks not off
Discourse, continued in her saintly strain.
"Supreme of gifts, which God creating gave
Of his free bounty, sign most evident
Of goodness, and in his account most priz'd,
Was liberty of will, the boon wherewith
All intellectual creatures, and them sole
He hath endow'd.  Hence now thou mayst infer
Of what high worth the vow, which so is fram'd
That when man offers, God well-pleas'd accepts;
For in the compact between God and him,
This treasure, such as I describe it to thee,
He makes the victim, and of his own act.
What compensation therefore may he find?
If that, whereof thou hast oblation made,
By using well thou think'st to consecrate,
Thou would'st of theft do charitable deed.
Thus I resolve thee of the greater point.
     "But forasmuch as holy church, herein
Dispensing, seems to contradict the truth
I have discover'd to thee, yet behooves
Thou rest a little longer at the board,
Ere the crude aliment, which thou hast taken,
Digested fitly to nutrition turn.
Open thy mind to what I now unfold,
And give it inward keeping.  Knowledge comes
Of learning well retain'd, unfruitful else.
     "This sacrifice in essence of two things
Consisteth; one is that, whereof 't is made,
The covenant the other.  For the last,
It ne'er is cancell'd if not kept: and hence
I spake erewhile so strictly of its force.
For this it was enjoin'd the Israelites,
Though leave were giv'n them, as thou know'st, to change
The offering, still to offer.  Th' other part,
The matter and the substance of the vow,
May well be such, to that without offence
It may for other substance be exchang'd.
But at his own discretion none may shift
The burden on his shoulders, unreleas'd
By either key, the yellow and the white.
Nor deem of any change, as less than vain,
If the last bond be not within the new
Included, as the quatre in the six.
No satisfaction therefore can be paid
For what so precious in the balance weighs,
That all in counterpoise must kick the beam.
Take then no vow at random: ta'en, with faith
Preserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once,
Blindly to execute a rash resolve,
Whom better it had suited to exclaim,
'1 have done ill,' than to redeem his pledge
By doing worse or, not unlike to him
In folly, that great leader of the Greeks:
Whence, on the alter, Iphigenia mourn'd
Her virgin beauty, and hath since made mourn
Both wise and simple, even all, who hear
Of so fell sacrifice.  Be ye more staid,
O Christians, not, like feather, by each wind
Removable: nor think to cleanse ourselves
In every water.  Either testament,
The old and new, is yours: and for your guide
The shepherd of the church let this suffice
To save you.  When by evil lust entic'd,
Remember ye be men, not senseless beasts;
Nor let the Jew, who dwelleth in your streets,
Hold you in mock'ry.  Be not, as the lamb,
That, fickle wanton, leaves its mother's milk,
To dally with itself in idle play."
     Such were the words that Beatrice spake:
These ended, to that region, where the world
Is liveliest, full of fond desire she turn'd.
     Though mainly prompt new question to propose,
Her silence and chang'd look did keep me dumb.
And as the arrow, ere the cord is still,
Leapeth unto its mark; so on we sped
Into the second realm.  There I beheld
The dame, so joyous enter, that the orb
Grew brighter at her smiles; and, if the star
Were mov'd to gladness, what then was my cheer,
Whom nature hath made apt for every change!
     As in a quiet and clear lake the fish,
If aught approach them from without, do draw
Towards it, deeming it their food; so drew
Full more than thousand splendours towards us,
And in each one was heard:  "Lo!  one arriv'd
To multiply our loves!" and as each came
The shadow, streaming forth effulgence new,
Witness'd augmented joy.  Here, reader!  think,
If thou didst miss the sequel of my tale,
To know the rest how sorely thou wouldst crave;
And thou shalt see what vehement desire
Possess'd me, as soon as these had met my view,
To know their state.  "O born in happy hour!
Thou to whom grace vouchsafes, or ere thy close
Of fleshly warfare, to behold the thrones
Of that eternal triumph, know to us
The light communicated, which through heaven
Expatiates without bound.  Therefore, if aught
Thou of our beams wouldst borrow for thine aid,
Spare not; and of our radiance take thy fill."
     Thus of those piteous spirits one bespake me;
And Beatrice next:  "Say on; and trust
As unto gods!" --"How in the light supreme
Thou harbour'st, and from thence the virtue bring'st,
That, sparkling in thine eyes, denotes thy joy,
l mark; but, who thou art, am still to seek;
Or wherefore, worthy spirit!  for thy lot
This sphere assign'd, that oft from mortal ken
Is veil'd by others' beams."  I said, and turn'd
Toward the lustre, that with greeting, kind
Erewhile had hail'd me.  Forthwith brighter far
Than erst, it wax'd:  and, as himself the sun
Hides through excess of light, when his warm gaze
Hath on the mantle of thick vapours prey'd;
Within its proper ray the saintly shape
Was, through increase of gladness, thus conceal'd;
And, shrouded so in splendour answer'd me,
E'en as the tenour of my song declares.
"After that Constantine the eagle turn'd
Against the motions of the heav'n, that roll'd
Consenting with its course, when he of yore,
Lavinia's spouse, was leader of the flight,
A hundred years twice told and more, his seat
At Europe's extreme point, the bird of Jove
Held, near the mountains, whence he issued first.
There, under shadow of his sacred plumes
Swaying the world, till through successive hands
To mine he came devolv'd.  Caesar I was,
And am Justinian; destin'd by the will
Of that prime love, whose influence I feel,
From vain excess to clear th' encumber'd laws.
Or ere that work engag'd me, I did hold
Christ's nature merely human, with such faith
Contented.  But the blessed Agapete,
Who was chief shepherd, he with warning voice
To the true faith recall'd me.  I believ'd
His words: and what he taught, now plainly see,
As thou in every contradiction seest
The true and false oppos'd.  Soon as my feet
Were to the church reclaim'd, to my great task,
By inspiration of God's grace impell'd,
I gave me wholly, and consign'd mine arms
To Belisarius, with whom heaven's right hand
Was link'd in such conjointment, 't was a sign
That I should rest.  To thy first question thus
I shape mine answer, which were ended here,
But that its tendency doth prompt perforce
To some addition; that thou well, mayst mark
What reason on each side they have to plead,
By whom that holiest banner is withstood,
Both who pretend its power and who oppose.
    "Beginning from that hour, when Pallas died
To give it rule, behold the valorous deeds
Have made it worthy reverence.  Not unknown
To thee, how for three hundred years and more
It dwelt in Alba, up to those fell lists
Where for its sake were met the rival three;
Nor aught unknown to thee, which it achiev'd
Down to the Sabines' wrong to Lucrece' woe,
With its sev'n kings conqu'ring the nation round;
Nor all it wrought, by Roman worthies home
'Gainst Brennus and th' Epirot prince, and hosts
Of single chiefs, or states in league combin'd
Of social warfare; hence Torquatus stern,
And Quintius nam'd of his neglected locks,
The Decii, and the Fabii hence acquir'd
Their fame, which I with duteous zeal embalm.
By it the pride of Arab hordes was quell'd,
When they led on by Hannibal o'erpass'd
The Alpine rocks, whence glide thy currents, Po!
Beneath its guidance, in their prime of days
Scipio and Pompey triumph'd; and that hill,
Under whose summit thou didst see the light,
Rued its stern bearing.  After, near the hour,
When heav'n was minded that o'er all the world
His own deep calm should brood, to Caesar's hand
Did Rome consign it; and what then it wrought
From Var unto the Rhine, saw Isere's flood,
Saw Loire and Seine, and every vale, that fills
The torrent Rhone.  What after that it wrought,
When from Ravenna it came forth, and leap'd
The Rubicon, was of so bold a flight,
That tongue nor pen may follow it.  Tow'rds Spain
It wheel'd its bands, then tow'rd Dyrrachium smote,
And on Pharsalia with so fierce a plunge,
E'en the warm Nile was conscious to the pang;
Its native shores Antandros, and the streams
Of Simois revisited, and there
Where Hector lies; then ill for Ptolemy
His pennons shook again; lightning thence fell
On Juba; and the next upon your west,
At sound of the Pompeian trump, return'd.
     "What following and in its next bearer's gripe
It wrought, is now by Cassius and Brutus
Bark'd off in hell, and by Perugia's sons
And Modena's was mourn'd.  Hence weepeth still
Sad Cleopatra, who, pursued by it,
Took from the adder black and sudden death.
With him it ran e'en to the Red Sea coast;
With him compos'd the world to such a peace,
That of his temple Janus barr'd the door.
     "But all the mighty standard yet had wrought,
And was appointed to perform thereafter,
Throughout the mortal kingdom which it sway'd,
Falls in appearance dwindled and obscur'd,
If one with steady eye and perfect thought
On the third Caesar look; for to his hands,
The living Justice, in whose breath I move,
Committed glory, e'en into his hands,
To execute the vengeance of its wrath.
     "Hear now and wonder at what next I tell.
After with Titus it was sent to wreak
Vengeance for vengeance of the ancient sin,
And, when the Lombard tooth, with fangs impure,
Did gore the bosom of the holy church,
Under its wings victorious, Charlemagne
Sped to her rescue.  Judge then for thyself
Of those, whom I erewhile accus'd to thee,
What they are, and how grievous their offending,
Who are the cause of all your ills.  The one
Against the universal ensign rears
The yellow lilies, and with partial aim
That to himself the other arrogates:
So that 't is hard to see which more offends.
Be yours, ye Ghibellines, to veil your arts
Beneath another standard: ill is this
Follow'd of him, who severs it and justice:
And let not with his Guelphs the new-crown'd Charles
Assail it, but those talons hold in dread,
Which from a lion of more lofty port
Have rent the easing.  Many a time ere now
The sons have for the sire's transgression wail'd;
Nor let him trust the fond belief, that heav'n
Will truck its armour for his lilied shield.
     "This little star is furnish'd with good spirits,
Whose mortal lives were busied to that end,
That honour and renown might wait on them:
And, when desires thus err in their intention,
True love must needs ascend with slacker beam.
But it is part of our delight, to measure
Our wages with the merit; and admire
The close proportion.  Hence doth heav'nly justice
Temper so evenly affection in us,
It ne'er can warp to any wrongfulness.
Of diverse voices is sweet music made:
So in our life the different degrees
Render sweet harmony among these wheels.
     "Within the pearl, that now encloseth us,
Shines Romeo's light, whose goodly deed and fair
Met ill acceptance.  But the Provencals,
That were his foes, have little cause for mirth.
Ill shapes that man his course, who makes his wrong
Of other's worth.  Four daughters were there born
To Raymond Berenger, and every one
Became a queen; and this for him did Romeo,
Though of mean state and from a foreign land.
Yet envious tongues incited him to ask
A reckoning of that just one, who return'd
Twelve fold to him for ten.  Aged and poor
He parted thence: and if the world did know
The heart he had, begging his life by morsels,
'T would deem the praise, it yields him, scantly dealt."
"Hosanna Sanctus Deus Sabaoth
Superillustrans claritate tua
Felices ignes horum malahoth!"
Thus chanting saw I turn that substance bright
With fourfold lustre to its orb again,
Revolving; and the rest unto their dance
With it mov'd also; and like swiftest sparks,
In sudden distance from my sight were veil'd.
     Me doubt possess'd, and "Speak," it whisper'd me,
"Speak, speak unto thy lady, that she quench
Thy thirst with drops of sweetness."  Yet blank awe,
Which lords it o'er me, even at the sound
Of Beatrice's name, did bow me down
As one in slumber held.  Not long that mood
Beatrice suffer'd:  she, with such a smile,
As might have made one blest amid the flames,
Beaming upon me, thus her words began:
"Thou in thy thought art pond'ring (as I deem,
And what I deem is truth how just revenge
Could be with justice punish'd:  from which doubt
I soon will free thee; so thou mark my words;
For they of weighty matter shall possess thee.
     "That man, who was unborn, himself condemn'd,
And, in himself, all, who since him have liv'd,
His offspring: whence, below, the human kind
Lay sick in grievous error many an age;
Until it pleas'd the Word of God to come
Amongst them down, to his own person joining
The nature, from its Maker far estrang'd,
By the mere act of his eternal love.
Contemplate here the wonder I unfold.
The nature with its Maker thus conjoin'd,
Created first was blameless, pure and good;
But through itself alone was driven forth
From Paradise, because it had eschew'd
The way of truth and life, to evil turn'd.
Ne'er then was penalty so just as that
Inflicted by the cross, if thou regard
The nature in assumption doom'd: ne'er wrong
So great, in reference to him, who took
Such nature on him, and endur'd the doom.
God therefore and the Jews one sentence pleased:
So different effects flow'd from one act,
And heav'n was open'd, though the earth did quake.
Count it not hard henceforth, when thou dost hear
That a just vengeance was by righteous court
Justly reveng'd.  But yet I see thy mind
By thought on thought arising sore perplex'd,
And with how vehement desire it asks
Solution of the maze.  What I have heard,
Is plain, thou sayst:  but wherefore God this way
For our redemption chose, eludes my search.
     "Brother!  no eye of man not perfected,
Nor fully ripen'd in the flame of love,
May fathom this decree.  It is a mark,
In sooth, much aim'd at, and but little kenn'd:
And I will therefore show thee why such way
Was worthiest.  The celestial love, that spume
All envying in its bounty, in itself
With such effulgence blazeth, as sends forth
All beauteous things eternal.  What distils
Immediate thence, no end of being knows,
Bearing its seal immutably impress'd.
Whatever thence immediate falls, is free,
Free wholly, uncontrollable by power
Of each thing new: by such conformity
More grateful to its author, whose bright beams,
Though all partake their shining, yet in those
Are liveliest, which resemble him the most.
These tokens of pre-eminence on man
Largely bestow'd, if any of them fail,
He needs must forfeit his nobility,
No longer stainless.  Sin alone is that,
Which doth disfranchise him, and make unlike
To the chief good; for that its light in him
Is darken'd.  And to dignity thus lost
Is no return; unless, where guilt makes void,
He for ill pleasure pay with equal pain.
Your nature, which entirely in its seed
Trangress'd, from these distinctions fell, no less
Than from its state in Paradise; nor means
Found of recovery (search all methods out
As strickly as thou may) save one of these,
The only fords were left through which to wade,
Either that God had of his courtesy
Releas'd him merely, or else man himself
For his own folly by himself aton'd.
     "Fix now thine eye, intently as thou canst,
On th' everlasting counsel, and explore,
Instructed by my words, the dread abyss.
     "Man in himself had ever lack'd the means
Of satisfaction, for he could not stoop
Obeying, in humility so low,
As high he, disobeying, thought to soar:
And for this reason he had vainly tried
Out of his own sufficiency to pay
The rigid satisfaction.  Then behooved
That God should by his own ways lead him back
Unto the life, from whence he fell, restor'd:
By both his ways, I mean, or one alone.
But since the deed is ever priz'd the more,
The more the doer's good intent appears,
Goodness celestial, whose broad signature
Is on the universe, of all its ways
To raise ye up, was fain to leave out none,
Nor aught so vast or so magnificent,
Either for him who gave or who receiv'd
Between the last night and the primal day,
Was or can be.  For God more bounty show'd.
Giving himself to make man capable
Of his return to life, than had the terms
Been mere and unconditional release.
And for his justice, every method else
Were all too scant, had not the Son of God
Humbled himself to put on mortal flesh.
     "Now, to fulfil each wish of thine, remains
I somewhat further to thy view unfold.
That thou mayst see as clearly as myself.
     "I see, thou sayst, the air, the fire I see,
The earth and water, and all things of them
Compounded, to corruption turn, and soon
Dissolve.  Yet these were also things create,
Because, if what were told me, had been true
They from corruption had been therefore free.
     "The angels, O my brother!  and this clime
Wherein thou art, impassible and pure,
I call created, as indeed they are
In their whole being.  But the elements,
Which thou hast nam'd, and what of them is made,
Are by created virtue' inform'd: create
Their substance, and create the' informing virtue
In these bright stars, that round them circling move
The soul of every brute and of each plant,
The ray and motion of the sacred lights,
With complex potency attract and turn.
But this our life the' eternal good inspires
Immediate, and enamours of itself;
So that our wishes rest for ever here.
     "And hence thou mayst by inference conclude
Our resurrection certain, if thy mind
Consider how the human flesh was fram'd,
When both our parents at the first were made."
The world was in its day of peril dark
Wont to believe the dotage of fond love
From the fair Cyprian deity, who rolls
In her third epicycle, shed on men
By stream of potent radiance: therefore they
Of elder time, in their old error blind,
Not her alone with sacrifice ador'd
And invocation, but like honours paid
To Cupid and Dione, deem'd of them
Her mother, and her son, him whom they feign'd
To sit in Dido's bosom: and from her,
Whom I have sung preluding, borrow'd they
The appellation of that star, which views,
Now obvious and now averse, the sun.
     I was not ware that I was wafted up
Into  its orb; but the new loveliness
That grac'd my lady, gave me ample proof
That we had entered there.  And as in flame
A sparkle is distinct, or voice in voice
Discern'd, when one its even tenour keeps,
The other comes and goes; so in that light
I other luminaries saw, that cours'd
In circling motion. rapid more or less,
As their eternal phases each impels.
     Never was blast from vapour charged with cold,
Whether invisible to eye or no,
Descended with such speed, it had not seem'd
To linger in dull tardiness, compar'd
To those celestial lights, that tow'rds us came,
Leaving the circuit of their joyous ring,
Conducted by the lofty seraphim.
And after them, who in the van appear'd,
Such an hosanna sounded, as hath left
Desire, ne'er since extinct in me, to hear
Renew'd the strain.  Then parting from the rest
One near us drew, and sole began:  "We all
Are ready at thy pleasure, well dispos'd
To do thee gentle service.  We are they,
To whom thou in the world erewhile didst Sing
'O ye!  whose intellectual ministry
Moves the third heaven!' and in one orb we roll,
One motion, one impulse, with those who rule
Princedoms in heaven; yet are of love so full,
That to please thee 't will be as sweet to rest."
     After mine eyes had with meek reverence
Sought the celestial guide, and were by her
Assur'd, they turn'd again unto the light
Who had so largely promis'd, and with voice
That bare the lively pressure of my zeal,
"Tell who ye are," I cried.  Forthwith it grew
In size and splendour, through augmented joy;
And thus it answer'd:  "A short date below
The world possess'd me.  Had the time been more,
Much evil, that will come, had never chanc'd.
My gladness hides thee from me, which doth shine  .
Around, and shroud me, as an animal
In its own silk enswath'd.  Thou lov'dst me well,
And had'st good cause; for had my sojourning
Been longer on the earth, the love I bare thee
Had put forth more than blossoms.  The left bank,
That Rhone, when he hath mix'd with Sorga, laves.
In me its lord expected, and that horn
Of fair Ausonia, with its boroughs old,
Bari, and Croton, and Gaeta pil'd,
From where the Trento disembogues his waves,
With Verde mingled, to the salt sea-flood.
Already on my temples beam'd the crown,
Which gave me sov'reignty over the land
By Danube wash'd, whenas he strays beyond
The limits of his German shores.  The realm,
Where, on the gulf by stormy Eurus lash'd,
Betwixt Pelorus and Pachynian heights,
The beautiful Trinacria lies in gloom
(Not through Typhaeus, but the vap'ry cloud
Bituminous upsteam'd), THAT too did look
To have its scepter wielded by a race
Of monarchs, sprung through me from Charles and Rodolph;
had not ill lording which doth spirit up
The people ever, in Palermo rais'd
The shout of 'death,' re-echo'd loud and long.
Had but my brother's foresight kenn'd as much,
He had been warier that the greedy want
Of Catalonia might not work his bale.
And truly need there is, that he forecast,
Or other for him, lest more freight be laid
On his already over-laden bark.
Nature in him, from bounty fall'n to thrift,
Would ask the  guard of braver arms, than such
As only care to have their coffers fill'd."
     "My liege, it doth enhance the joy thy words
Infuse into me, mighty as it is,
To think my gladness manifest to thee,
As to myself, who own it, when thou lookst
Into the source and limit of all good,
There, where thou markest that which thou dost speak,
Thence priz'd of me the more.  Glad thou hast made me.
Now make intelligent, clearing the doubt
Thy speech hath raised in me; for much I muse,
How bitter can spring up, when sweet is sown."
     I thus inquiring; he forthwith replied:
"If I have power to show one truth, soon that
Shall face thee, which thy questioning declares
Behind thee now conceal'd.  The Good, that guides
And blessed makes this realm, which thou dost mount,
Ordains its providence to be the virtue
In these great bodies: nor th' all perfect Mind
Upholds their nature merely, but in them
Their energy to save: for nought, that lies
Within the range of that unerring bow,
But is as level with the destin'd aim,
As ever mark to arrow's point oppos'd.
Were it not thus, these heavens, thou dost visit,
Would their effect so work, it would not be
Art, but destruction; and this may not chance,
If th' intellectual powers, that move these stars,
Fail not, or who, first faulty made them fail.
Wilt thou this truth more clearly evidenc'd?"
     To whom I thus:  "It is enough: no fear,
I see, lest nature in her part should tire."
     He straight rejoin'd:  "Say, were it worse for man,
If he liv'd not in fellowship on earth?"
     "Yea," answer'd I;  "nor here a reason needs."
     "And may that be, if different estates
Grow not of different duties in your life?
Consult your teacher, and he tells you 'no."'
     Thus did he come, deducing to this point,
And then concluded:  "For this cause behooves,
The roots, from whence your operations come,
Must differ.  Therefore one is Solon born;
Another, Xerxes; and Melchisidec
A third; and he a fourth, whose airy voyage
Cost him his son.  In her circuitous course,
Nature, that is the seal to mortal wax,
Doth well her art, but no distinctions owns
'Twixt one or other household.  Hence befalls
That Esau is so wide of Jacob:  hence
Quirinus of so base a father springs,
He dates from Mars his lineage.  Were it not
That providence celestial overrul'd,
Nature, in generation, must the path
Trac'd by the generator, still pursue
Unswervingly.  Thus place I in thy sight
That, which was late behind thee.  But, in sign
Of more affection for thee, 't is my will
Thou wear this corollary.  Nature ever
Finding discordant fortune, like all seed
Out of its proper climate, thrives but ill.
And were the world below content to mark
And work on the foundation nature lays,
It would not lack supply of excellence.
But ye perversely to religion strain
Him, who was born to gird on him the sword,
And of the fluent phrasemen make your king;
Therefore your steps have wander'd from the paths."
After solution of my doubt, thy Charles,
O fair Clemenza, of the treachery spake
That must befall his seed:  but, "Tell it not,"
Said he, "and let the destin'd years come round."
Nor may I tell thee more, save that the meed
Of sorrow well-deserv'd shall quit your wrongs.
     And now the visage of that saintly light
Was to the sun, that fills it, turn'd again,
As to the good, whose plenitude of bliss
Sufficeth all.  O ye misguided souls!
Infatuate, who from such a good estrange
Your hearts, and bend your gaze on vanity,
Alas for you!--And lo!  toward me, next,
Another of those splendent forms approach'd,
That, by its outward bright'ning, testified
The will it had to pleasure me.  The eyes
Of Beatrice, resting, as before,
Firmly upon me, manifested forth
Approva1 of my wish.  "And O," I cried,
Blest spirit!  quickly be my will perform'd;
And prove thou to me, that my inmost thoughts
I can reflect on thee."  Thereat the light,
That yet was new to me, from the recess,
Where it before was singing, thus began,
As one who joys in kindness:  "In that part
Of the deprav'd Italian land, which lies
Between Rialto, and the fountain-springs
Of Brenta and of Piava, there doth rise,
But to no lofty eminence, a hill,
From whence erewhile a firebrand did descend,
That sorely sheet the region.  From one root
I and it sprang; my name on earth Cunizza:
And here I glitter, for that by its light
This star o'ercame me.  Yet I naught repine,
Nor grudge myself the cause of this my lot,
Which haply vulgar hearts can scarce conceive.
     "This jewel, that is next me in our heaven,
Lustrous and costly, great renown hath left,
And not to perish, ere these hundred years
Five times absolve their round.  Consider thou,
If to excel be worthy man's endeavour,
When such life may attend the first.  Yet they
Care not for this, the crowd that now are girt
By Adice and Tagliamento, still
Impenitent, tho' scourg'd.  The hour is near,
When for their stubbornness at Padua's marsh
The water shall be chang'd, that laves Vicena
And where Cagnano meets with Sile, one
Lords it, and bears his head aloft, for whom
The web is now a-warping.  Feltro too
Shall sorrow for its godless shepherd's fault,
Of so deep stain, that never, for the like,
Was Malta's bar unclos'd.  Too large should be
The skillet, that would hold Ferrara's blood,
And wearied he, who ounce by ounce would weight it,
The which this priest, in show of party-zeal,
Courteous will give; nor will the gift ill suit
The country's custom.  We descry above,
Mirrors, ye call them thrones, from which to us
Reflected shine the judgments of our God:
Whence these our sayings we avouch for good."
     She ended, and appear'd on other thoughts
Intent, re-ent'ring on the wheel she late
Had left.  That other joyance meanwhile wax'd
A thing to marvel at, in splendour glowing,
Like choicest ruby stricken by the sun,
For, in that upper clime, effulgence comes
Of gladness, as here laughter: and below,
As the mind saddens, murkier grows the shade.
     "God seeth all:  and in him is thy sight,"
Said I, "blest Spirit!  Therefore will of his
Cannot to thee be dark.  Why then delays
Thy voice to satisfy my wish untold,
That voice which joins the inexpressive song,
Pastime of heav'n, the which those ardours sing,
That cowl them with six shadowing wings outspread?
I would not wait thy asking, wert thou known
To me, as thoroughly I to thee am known.''
     He forthwith answ'ring, thus his words began:
"The valley' of waters, widest next to that
Which doth the earth engarland, shapes its course,
Between discordant shores, against the sun
Inward so far, it makes meridian there,
Where was before th' horizon.  Of that vale
Dwelt I upon the shore, 'twixt Ebro's stream
And Macra's, that divides with passage brief
Genoan bounds from Tuscan.  East and west
Are nearly one to Begga and my land,
Whose haven erst was with its own blood warm.
Who knew my name were wont to call me Folco:
And I did bear impression of this heav'n,
That now bears mine: for not with fiercer flame
Glow'd Belus' daughter, injuring alike
Sichaeus and Creusa, than did I,
Long as it suited the unripen'd down
That fledg'd my cheek: nor she of Rhodope,
That was beguiled of Demophoon;
Nor Jove's son, when the charms of Iole
Were shrin'd within his heart.  And yet there hides
No sorrowful repentance here, but mirth,
Not for the fault (that doth not come to mind),
But for the virtue, whose o'erruling sway
And providence have wrought thus quaintly.  Here
The skill is look'd into, that fashioneth
With such effectual working, and the good
Discern'd, accruing to this upper world
From that below.  But fully to content
Thy wishes, all that in this sphere have birth,
Demands my further parle.  Inquire thou wouldst,
Who of this light is denizen, that here
Beside me sparkles, as the sun-beam doth
On the clear wave.  Know then, the soul of Rahab
Is in that gladsome harbour, to our tribe
United, and the foremost rank assign'd.
He to that heav'n, at which the shadow ends
Of your sublunar world, was taken up,
First, in Christ's triumph, of all souls redeem'd:
For well behoov'd, that, in some part of heav'n,
She should remain a trophy, to declare
The mighty contest won with either palm;
For that she favour'd first the high exploit
Of Joshua on the holy land, whereof
The Pope recks little now.  Thy city, plant
Of him, that on his Maker turn'd the back,
And of whose envying so much woe hath sprung,
Engenders and expands the cursed flower,
That hath made wander both the sheep and lambs,
Turning the shepherd to a wolf.  For this,
The gospel and great teachers laid aside,
The decretals, as their stuft margins show,
Are the sole study.  Pope and Cardinals,
Intent on these, ne'er journey but in thought
To Nazareth, where Gabriel op'd his wings.
Yet it may chance, erelong, the Vatican,
And other most selected parts of Rome,
That were the grave of Peter's soldiery,
Shall be deliver'd from the adult'rous bond."
Looking into his first-born with the love,
Which breathes from both eternal, the first Might
Ineffable, whence eye or mind
Can roam, hath in such order all dispos'd,
As none may see and fail to' enjoy.  Raise, then,
O reader!  to the lofty wheels, with me,
Thy ken directed to the point, whereat
One motion strikes on th' other.  There begin
Thy wonder of the mighty Architect,
Who loves his work so inwardly, his eye
Doth ever watch it.  See, how thence oblique
Brancheth the circle, where the planets roll
To pour their wished influence on the world;
Whose path not bending thus, in heav'n above
Much virtue would be lost, and here on earth,
All power well nigh extinct: or, from direct
Were its departure distant more or less,
I' th' universal order, great defect
Must, both in heav'n and here beneath, ensue.
     Now rest thee, reader!  on thy bench, and muse
Anticipative of the feast to come;
So shall delight make thee not feel thy toil.
Lo!  I have set before thee, for thyself
Feed now: the matter I indite, henceforth
Demands entire my thought.  Join'd with the part,
Which late we told of, the great minister
Of nature, that upon the world imprints
The virtue of the heaven, and doles out
Time for us with his beam, went circling on
Along the spires, where each hour sooner comes;
And I was with him, weetless of ascent,
As one, who till arriv'd, weets not his coming.
     For Beatrice, she who passeth on
So suddenly from good to better, time
Counts not the act, oh then how great must needs
Have been her brightness!  What she was i' th' sun
(Where I had enter'd), not through change of hue,
But light transparent--did I summon up
Genius, art, practice--I might not so speak,
It should be e'er imagin'd: yet believ'd
It may be, and the sight be justly crav'd.
And if our fantasy fail of such height,
What marvel, since no eye above the sun
Hath ever travel'd?  Such are they dwell here,
Fourth family of the Omnipotent Sire,
Who of his spirit and of his offspring shows;
And holds them still enraptur'd with the view.
And thus to me Beatrice:  "Thank, oh thank,
The Sun of angels, him, who by his grace
To this perceptible hath lifted thee."
     Never was heart in such devotion bound,
And with complacency so absolute
Dispos'd to render up itself to God,
As mine was at those words: and so entire
The love for Him, that held me, it eclips'd
Beatrice in oblivion.  Naught displeas'd
Was she, but smil'd thereat so joyously,
That of her laughing eyes the radiance brake
And scatter'd my collected mind abroad.
     Then saw I a bright band, in liveliness
Surpassing, who themselves did make the crown,
And us their centre: yet more sweet in voice,
Than in their visage beaming.  Cinctur'd thus,
Sometime Latona's daughter we behold,
When the impregnate air retains the thread,
That weaves her zone.  In the celestial court,
Whence I return, are many jewels found,
So dear and beautiful, they cannot brook
Transporting from that realm: and of these lights
Such was the song.  Who doth not prune his wing
To soar up thither, let him look from thence
For tidings from the dumb.  When, singing thus,
Those burning suns that circled round us thrice,
As nearest stars around the fixed pole,
Then seem'd they like to ladies, from the dance
Not ceasing, but suspense, in silent pause,
List'ning, till they have caught the strain anew:
Suspended so they stood: and, from within,
Thus heard I one, who spake:  "Since with its beam
The grace, whence true love lighteth first his flame,
That after doth increase by loving, shines
So multiplied in thee, it leads thee up
Along this ladder, down whose hallow'd steps
None e'er descend, and mount them not again,
Who from his phial should refuse thee wine
To slake thy thirst, no less constrained were,
Than water flowing not unto the sea.
Thou fain wouldst hear, what plants are these, that bloom
In the bright garland, which, admiring, girds
This fair dame round, who strengthens thee for heav'n.
I then was of the lambs, that Dominic
Leads, for his saintly flock, along the way,
Where well they thrive, not sworn with vanity.
He, nearest on my right hand, brother was,
And master to me:  Albert of Cologne
Is this:  and of Aquinum, Thomas I.
If thou of all the rest wouldst be assur'd,
Let thine eye, waiting on the words I speak,
In circuit journey round the blessed wreath.
That next resplendence issues from the smile
Of Gratian, who to either forum lent
Such help, as favour wins in Paradise.
The other, nearest, who adorns our quire,
Was Peter, he that with the widow gave
To holy church his treasure.  The fifth light,
Goodliest of all, is by such love inspired,
That all your world craves tidings of its doom:
Within, there is the lofty light, endow'd
With sapience so profound, if truth be truth,
That with a ken of such wide amplitude
No second hath arisen.  Next behold
That taper's radiance, to whose view was shown,
Clearliest, the nature and the ministry
Angelical, while yet in flesh it dwelt.
In the other little light serenely smiles
That pleader for the Christian temples, he
Who did provide Augustin of his lore.
Now, if thy mind's eye pass from light to light,
Upon my praises following, of the eighth
Thy thirst is next.  The saintly soul, that shows
The world's deceitfulness, to all who hear him,
Is, with the sight of all the good, that is,
Blest there.  The limbs, whence it was driven, lie
Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom
And exile came it here.  Lo!  further on,
Where flames the arduous Spirit of Isidore,
Of Bede, and Richard, more than man, erewhile,
In deep discernment.  Lastly this, from whom
Thy look on me reverteth, was the beam
Of one, whose spirit, on high musings bent,
Rebuk'd the ling'ring tardiness of death.
It is the eternal light of Sigebert,
Who 'scap'd not envy, when of truth he argued,
Reading in the straw-litter'd street."  Forthwith,
As clock, that calleth up the spouse of God
To win her bridegroom's love at matin's hour,
Each part of other fitly drawn and urg'd,
Sends out a tinkling sound, of note so sweet,
Affection springs in well-disposed breast;
Thus saw I move the glorious wheel, thus heard
Voice answ'ring voice, so musical and soft,
It can be known but where day endless shines.
O fond anxiety of mortal men!
How vain and inconclusive arguments
Are those, which make thee beat thy wings below
For statues one, and one for aphorisms
Was hunting; this the priesthood follow'd, that
By force or sophistry aspir'd to rule;
To rob another, and another sought
By civil business wealth; one moiling lay
Tangled in net of sensual delight,
And one to witless indolence resign'd;
What time from all these empty things escap'd,
With Beatrice, I thus gloriously
Was rais'd aloft, and made the guest of heav'n.
     They of the circle to that point, each one.
Where erst it was, had turn'd; and steady glow'd,
As candle in his socket.  Then within
The lustre, that erewhile bespake me, smiling
With merer gladness, heard I thus begin:
     "E'en as his beam illumes me, so I look
Into the eternal light, and clearly mark
Thy thoughts, from whence they rise.  Thou art in doubt,
And wouldst, that I should bolt my words afresh
In such plain open phrase, as may be smooth
To thy perception, where I told thee late
That 'well they thrive;' and that 'no second such
Hath risen,' which no small distinction needs.
     "The providence, that governeth the world,
In depth of counsel by created ken
Unfathomable, to the end that she,
Who with loud cries was 'spous'd in precious blood,
Might keep her footing towards her well-belov'd,
Safe in herself and constant unto him,
Hath two ordain'd, who should on either hand
In chief escort her: one seraphic all
In fervency; for wisdom upon earth,
The other splendour of cherubic light.
I but of one will tell:  he tells of both,
Who one commendeth. which of them so'er
Be taken:  for their deeds were to one end.
     "Between Tupino, and the wave, that falls
From blest Ubaldo's chosen hill, there hangs
Rich slope of mountain high, whence heat and cold
Are wafted through Perugia's eastern gate:
And Norcera with Gualdo, in its rear
Mourn for their heavy yoke.  Upon that side,
Where it doth break its steepness most, arose
A sun upon the world, as duly this
From Ganges doth:  therefore let none, who speak
Of that place, say Ascesi; for its name
Were lamely so deliver'd; but the East,
To call things rightly, be it henceforth styl'd.
He was not yet much distant from his rising,
When his good influence 'gan to bless the earth.
A dame to whom none openeth pleasure's gate
More than to death, was, 'gainst his father's will,
His stripling choice: and he did make her his,
Before the Spiritual court, by nuptial bonds,
And in his father's sight:  from day to day,
Then lov'd her more devoutly.  She, bereav'd
Of her first husband, slighted and obscure,
Thousand and hundred years and more, remain'd
Without a single suitor, till he came.
Nor aught avail'd, that, with Amyclas, she
Was found unmov'd at rumour of his voice,
Who shook the world: nor aught her constant boldness
Whereby with Christ she mounted on the cross,
When Mary stay'd beneath.  But not to deal
Thus closely with thee longer, take at large
The rovers' titles--Poverty and Francis.
Their concord and glad looks, wonder and love,
And sweet regard gave birth to holy thoughts,
So much, that venerable Bernard first
Did bare his feet, and, in pursuit of peace
So heavenly, ran, yet deem'd his footing slow.
O hidden riches!  O prolific good!
Egidius bares him next, and next Sylvester,
And follow both the bridegroom; so the bride
Can please them.  Thenceforth goes he on his way,
The father and the master, with his spouse,
And with that family, whom now the cord
Girt humbly: nor did abjectness of heart
Weigh down his eyelids, for that he was son
Of Pietro Bernardone, and by men
In wond'rous sort despis'd.  But royally
His hard intention he to Innocent
Set forth, and from him first receiv'd the seal
On his religion.  Then, when numerous flock'd
The tribe of lowly ones, that trac'd HIS steps,
Whose marvellous life deservedly were sung
In heights empyreal, through Honorius' hand
A second crown, to deck their Guardian's virtues,
Was by the eternal Spirit inwreath'd:  and when
He had, through thirst of martyrdom, stood up
In the proud Soldan's presence, and there preach'd
Christ and his followers; but found the race
Unripen'd for conversion:  back once more
He hasted (not to intermit his toil),
And reap'd Ausonian lands.  On the hard rock,
'Twixt Arno and the Tyber, he from Christ
Took the last Signet, which his limbs two years
Did carry.  Then the season come, that he,
Who to such good had destin'd him, was pleas'd
T' advance him to the meed, which he had earn'd
By his self-humbling, to his brotherhood,
As their just heritage, he gave in charge
His dearest lady, and enjoin'd their love
And faith to her:  and, from her bosom, will'd
His goodly spirit should move forth, returning
To its appointed kingdom, nor would have
His body laid upon another bier.
     "Think now of one, who were a fit colleague,
To keep the bark of Peter in deep sea
Helm'd to right point; and such our Patriarch was.
Therefore who follow him, as he enjoins,
Thou mayst be certain, take good lading in.
But hunger of new viands tempts his flock,
So that they needs into strange pastures wide
Must spread them:  and the more remote from him
The stragglers wander, so much mole they come
Home to the sheep-fold, destitute of milk.
There are of them, in truth, who fear their harm,
And to the shepherd cleave; but these so few,
A little stuff may furnish out their cloaks.
     "Now, if my words be clear, if thou have ta'en
Good heed, if that, which I have told, recall
To mind, thy wish may be in part fulfill'd:
For thou wilt see the point from whence they split,
Nor miss of the reproof, which that implies,
'That well they thrive not sworn with vanity."'
Soon as its final word the blessed flame
Had rais'd for utterance, straight the holy mill
Began to wheel, nor yet had once revolv'd,
Or ere another, circling, compass'd it,
Motion to motion, song to song, conjoining,
Song, that as much our muses doth excel,
Our Sirens with their tuneful pipes, as ray
Of primal splendour doth its faint reflex.
     As when, if Juno bid her handmaid forth,
Two arches parallel, and trick'd alike,
Span the thin cloud, the outer taking birth
From that within (in manner of that voice
Whom love did melt away, as sun the mist),
And they who gaze, presageful call to mind
The compact, made with Noah, of the world
No more to be o'erflow'd; about us thus
Of sempiternal roses, bending, wreath'd
Those garlands twain, and to the innermost
E'en thus th' external answered.  When the footing,
And other great festivity, of song,
And radiance, light with light accordant, each
Jocund and blythe, had at their pleasure still'd
(E'en as the eyes by quick volition mov'd,
Are shut and rais'd together), from the heart
Of one amongst the new lights mov'd a voice,
That made me seem like needle to the star,
In turning to its whereabout, and thus
Began:  "The love, that makes me beautiful,
Prompts me to tell of th' other guide, for whom
Such good of mine is spoken.  Where one is,
The other worthily should also be;
That as their warfare was alike, alike
Should be their glory.  Slow, and full of doubt,
And with thin ranks, after its banner mov'd
The army of Christ (which it so clearly cost
To reappoint), when its imperial Head,
Who reigneth ever, for the drooping host
Did make provision, thorough grace alone,
And not through its deserving.  As thou heard'st,
Two champions to the succour of his spouse
He sent, who by their deeds and words might join
Again his scatter'd people.  In that clime,
Where springs the pleasant west-wind to unfold
The fresh leaves, with which Europe sees herself
New-garmented; nor from those billows far,
Beyond whose chiding, after weary course,
The sun doth sometimes hide him, safe abides
The happy Callaroga, under guard
Of the great shield, wherein the lion lies
Subjected and supreme.  And there was born
The loving million of the Christian faith,
The hollow'd wrestler, gentle to his own,
And to his enemies terrible.  So replete
His soul with lively virtue, that when first
Created, even in the mother's womb,
It prophesied.  When, at the sacred font,
The spousals were complete 'twixt faith and him,
Where pledge of mutual safety was exchang'd,
The dame, who was his surety, in her sleep
Beheld the wondrous fruit, that was from him
And from his heirs to issue.  And that such
He might be construed, as indeed he was,
She was inspir'd to name him of his owner,
Whose he was wholly, and so call'd him Dominic.
And I speak of him, as the labourer,
Whom Christ in his own garden chose to be
His help-mate.  Messenger he seem'd, and friend
Fast-knit to Christ; and the first love he show'd,
Was after the first counsel that Christ gave.
Many a time his nurse, at entering found
That he had ris'n in silence, and was prostrate,
As who should say, "My errand was for this."
O happy father!  Felix rightly nam'd!
O favour'd mother!  rightly nam'd Joanna!
If that do mean, as men interpret it.
Not for the world's sake, for which now they pore
Upon Ostiense and Taddeo's page,
But for the real manna, soon he grew
Mighty in learning, and did set himself
To go about the vineyard, that soon turns
To wan and wither'd, if not tended well:
And from the see (whose bounty to the just
And needy is gone by, not through its fault,
But his who fills it basely), he besought,
No dispensation for commuted wrong,
Nor the first vacant fortune, nor the tenth),
That to God's paupers rightly appertain,
But, 'gainst an erring and degenerate world,
Licence to fight, in favour of that seed,
From which the twice twelve cions gird thee round.
Then, with sage doctrine and good will to help,
Forth on his great apostleship he far'd,
Like torrent bursting from a lofty vein;
And, dashing 'gainst the stocks of heresy,
Smote fiercest, where resistance was most stout.
Thence many rivulets have since been turn'd,
Over the garden Catholic to lead
Their living waters, and have fed its plants.
     "If such one wheel of that two-yoked car,
Wherein the holy church defended her,
And rode triumphant through the civil broil.
Thou canst not doubt its fellow's excellence,
Which Thomas, ere my coming, hath declar'd
So courteously unto thee.  But the track,
Which its smooth fellies made, is now deserted:
That mouldy mother is where late were lees.
His family, that wont to trace his path,
Turn backward, and invert their steps; erelong
To rue the gathering in of their ill crop,
When the rejected tares in vain shall ask
Admittance to the barn.  I question not
But he, who search'd our volume, leaf by leaf,
Might still find page with this inscription on't,
'I am as I was wont.'  Yet such were not
From Acquasparta nor Casale, whence
Of those, who come to meddle with the text,
One stretches and another cramps its rule.
Bonaventura's life in me behold,
From Bagnororegio, one, who in discharge
Of my great offices still laid aside
All sinister aim.  Illuminato here,
And Agostino join me:  two they were,
Among the first of those barefooted meek ones,
Who sought God's friendship in the cord: with them
Hugues of Saint Victor, Pietro Mangiadore,
And he of Spain in his twelve volumes shining,
Nathan the prophet, Metropolitan
Chrysostom, and Anselmo, and, who deign'd
To put his hand to the first art, Donatus.
Raban is here:  and at my side there shines
Calabria's abbot, Joachim , endow'd
With soul prophetic.  The bright courtesy
Of friar Thomas, and his goodly lore,
Have mov'd me to the blazon of a peer
So worthy, and with me have mov'd this throng."
Let him, who would conceive what now I saw,
Imagine (and retain the image firm,
As mountain rock, the whilst he hears me speak),
Of stars fifteen, from midst the ethereal host
Selected, that, with lively ray serene,
O'ercome the massiest air:  thereto imagine
The wain, that, in the bosom of our sky,
Spins ever on its axle night and day,
With the bright summit of that horn which swells
Due from the pole, round which the first wheel rolls,
T' have rang'd themselves in fashion of two signs
In heav'n, such as Ariadne made,
When death's chill seized her; and that one of them
Did compass in the other's beam; and both
In such sort whirl around, that each should tend
With opposite motion and, conceiving thus,
Of that true constellation, and the dance
Twofold, that circled me, he shall attain
As 't were the shadow; for things there as much
Surpass our usage, as the swiftest heav'n
Is swifter than the Chiana.  There was sung
No Bacchus, and no Io Paean, but
Three Persons in the Godhead, and in one
Substance that nature and the human join'd.
     The song fulfill'd its measure; and to us
Those saintly lights attended, happier made
At each new minist'ring.  Then silence brake,
Amid th' accordant sons of Deity,
That luminary, in which the wondrous life
Of the meek man of God was told to me;
And thus it spake:  "One ear o' th' harvest thresh'd,
And its grain safely stor'd, sweet charity
Invites me with the other to like toil.
     "Thou know'st, that in the bosom, whence the rib
Was ta'en to fashion that fair cheek, whose taste
All the world pays for, and in that, which pierc'd
By the keen lance, both after and before
Such satisfaction offer'd, as outweighs
Each evil in the scale, whate'er of light
To human nature is allow'd, must all
Have by his virtue been infus'd, who form'd
Both one and other: and thou thence admir'st
In that I told thee, of beatitudes
A second, there is none, to his enclos'd
In the fifth radiance.  Open now thine eyes
To what I answer thee; and thou shalt see
Thy deeming and my saying meet in truth,
As centre in the round.  That which dies not,
And that which can die, are but each the beam
Of that idea, which our Soverign Sire
Engendereth loving; for that lively light,
Which passeth from his brightness; not disjoin'd
From him, nor from his love triune with them,
Doth, through his bounty, congregate itself,
Mirror'd, as 't were in new existences,
Itself unalterable and ever one.
     "Descending hence unto the lowest powers,
Its energy so sinks, at last it makes
But brief contingencies:  for so I name
Things generated, which the heav'nly orbs
Moving, with seed or without seed, produce.
Their wax, and that which molds it, differ much:
And thence with lustre, more or less, it shows
Th' ideal stamp impress: so that one tree
According to his kind, hath better fruit,
And worse: and, at your birth, ye, mortal men,
Are in your talents various.  Were the wax
Molded with nice exactness, and the heav'n
In its disposing influence supreme,
The lustre of the seal should be complete:
But nature renders it imperfect ever,
Resembling thus the artist in her work,
Whose faultering hand is faithless to his skill.
Howe'er, if love itself dispose, and mark
The primal virtue, kindling with bright view,
There all perfection is vouchsafed; and such
The clay was made, accomplish'd with each gift,
That life can teem with; such the burden fill'd
The virgin's bosom: so that I commend
Thy judgment, that the human nature ne'er
Was or can be, such as in them it was.
     "Did I advance no further than this point,
'How then had he no peer?'  thou might'st reply.
But, that what now appears not, may appear
Right plainly, ponder, who he was, and what
(When he was bidden 'Ask' ), the motive sway'd
To his requesting.  I have spoken thus,
That thou mayst see, he was a king, who ask'd
For wisdom, to the end he might be king
Sufficient: not the number to search out
Of the celestial movers; or to know,
If necessary with contingent e'er
Have made necessity; or whether that
Be granted, that first motion is; or if
Of the mid circle can, by art, be made
Triangle with each corner, blunt or sharp.
     "Whence, noting that, which I have said, and this,
Thou kingly prudence and that ken mayst learn,
At which the dart of my intention aims.
And, marking clearly, that I told thee, 'Risen,'
Thou shalt discern it only hath respect
To kings, of whom are many, and the good
Are rare.  With this distinction take my words;
And they may well consist with that which thou
Of the first human father dost believe,
And of our well-beloved.  And let this
Henceforth be led unto thy feet, to make
Thee slow in motion, as a weary man,
Both to the 'yea' and to the 'nay' thou seest not.
For he among the fools is down full low,
Whose affirmation, or denial, is
Without distinction, in each case alike
Since it befalls, that in most instances
Current opinion leads to false: and then
Affection bends the judgment to her ply.
     "Much more than vainly doth he loose from shore,
Since he returns not such as he set forth,
Who fishes for the truth and wanteth skill.
And open proofs of this unto the world
Have been afforded in Parmenides,
Melissus, Bryso, and the crowd beside,
Who journey'd on, and knew not whither: so did
Sabellius, Arius, and the other fools,
Who, like to scymitars, reflected back
The scripture-image, by distortion marr'd.
     "Let not the people be too swift to judge,
As one who reckons on the blades in field,
Or ere the crop be ripe.  For I have seen
The thorn frown rudely all the winter long
And after bear the rose upon its top;
And bark, that all the way across the sea
Ran straight and speedy, perish at the last,
E'en in the haven's mouth seeing one steal,
Another brine, his offering to the priest,
Let not Dame Birtha and Sir Martin thence
Into heav'n's counsels deem that they can pry:
For one of these may rise, the other fall."
From centre to the circle, and so back
From circle to the centre, water moves
In the round chalice, even as the blow
Impels it, inwardly, or from without.
Such was the image glanc'd into my mind,
As the great spirit of Aquinum ceas'd;
And Beatrice after him her words
Resum'd alternate:  "Need there is (tho' yet
He tells it to you not in words, nor e'en
In thought) that he should fathom to its depth
Another mystery.  Tell him, if the light,
Wherewith your substance blooms, shall stay with you
Eternally, as now: and, if it doth,
How, when ye shall regain your visible forms,
The sight may without harm endure the change,
That also tell."  As those, who in a ring
Tread the light measure, in their fitful mirth
Raise loud the voice, and spring with gladder bound;
Thus, at the hearing of that pious suit,
The saintly circles in their tourneying
And wond'rous note attested new delight.
     Whoso laments, that we must doff this garb
Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live
Immortally above, he hath not seen
The sweet refreshing, of that heav'nly shower.
     Him, who lives ever, and for ever reigns
In mystic union of the Three in One,
Unbounded, bounding all, each spirit thrice
Sang, with such melody, as but to hear
For highest merit were an ample meed.
And from the lesser orb the goodliest light,
With gentle voice and mild, such as perhaps
The angel's once to Mary, thus replied:
"Long as the joy of Paradise shall last,
Our love shall shine around that raiment, bright,
As fervent; fervent, as in vision blest;
And that as far in blessedness exceeding,
As it hath grave beyond its virtue great.
Our shape, regarmented with glorious weeds
Of saintly flesh, must, being thus entire,
Show yet more gracious.  Therefore shall increase,
Whate'er of light, gratuitous, imparts
The Supreme Good; light, ministering aid,
The better disclose his glory: whence
The vision needs increasing, much increase
The fervour, which it kindles; and that too
The ray, that comes from it.  But as the greed
Which gives out flame, yet it its whiteness shines
More lively than that, and so preserves
Its proper semblance; thus this circling sphere
Of splendour, shall to view less radiant seem,
Than shall our fleshly robe, which yonder earth
Now covers.  Nor will such excess of light
O'erpower us, in corporeal organs made
Firm, and susceptible of all delight."
     So ready and so cordial an "Amen,"
Followed from either choir, as plainly spoke
Desire of their dead bodies; yet perchance
Not for themselves, but for their kindred dear,
Mothers and sires, and those whom best they lov'd,
Ere they were made imperishable flame.
     And lo!  forthwith there rose up round about
A lustre over that already there,
Of equal clearness, like the brightening up
Of the horizon.  As at an evening hour
Of twilight, new appearances through heav'n
Peer with faint glimmer, doubtfully descried;
So there new substances, methought began
To rise in view; and round the other twain
Enwheeling, sweep their ampler circuit wide.
     O gentle glitter of eternal beam!
With what a such whiteness did it flow,
O'erpowering vision in me!  But so fair,
So passing lovely, Beatrice show'd,
Mind cannot follow it, nor words express
Her infinite sweetness.  Thence mine eyes regain'd
Power to look up, and I beheld myself,
Sole with my lady, to more lofty bliss
Translated:  for the star, with warmer smile
Impurpled, well denoted our ascent.
     With all the heart, and with that tongue which speaks
The same in all, an holocaust I made
To God, befitting the new grace vouchsaf'd.
And from my bosom had not yet upsteam'd
The fuming of that incense, when I knew
The rite accepted.  With such mighty sheen
And mantling crimson, in two listed rays
The splendours shot before me, that I cried,
"God of Sabaoth!  that does prank them thus!"
     As leads the galaxy from pole to pole,
Distinguish'd into greater lights and less,
Its pathway, which the wisest fail to spell;
So thickly studded, in the depth of Mars,
Those rays describ'd the venerable sign,
That quadrants in the round conjoining frame.
Here memory mocks the toil of genius.  Christ
Beam'd on that cross; and pattern fails me now.
But whoso takes his cross, and follows Christ
Will pardon me for that I leave untold,
When in the flecker'd dawning he shall spy
The glitterance of Christ.  From horn to horn,
And 'tween the summit and the base did move
Lights, scintillating, as they met and pass'd.
Thus oft are seen, with ever-changeful glance,
Straight or athwart, now rapid and now slow,
The atomies of bodies, long or short,
To move along the sunbeam, whose slant line
Checkers the shadow, interpos'd by art
Against the noontide heat.  And as the chime
Of minstrel music, dulcimer, and help
With many strings, a pleasant dining makes
To him, who heareth not distinct the note;
So from the lights, which there appear'd to me,
Gather'd along the cross a melody,
That, indistinctly heard, with ravishment
Possess'd me.  Yet I mark'd it was a hymn
Of lofty praises; for there came to me
"Arise and conquer," as to one who hears
And comprehends not.  Me such ecstasy
O'ercame, that never till that hour was thing
That held me in so sweet imprisonment.
     Perhaps my saying over bold appears,
Accounting less the pleasure of those eyes,
Whereon to look fulfilleth all desire.
But he, who is aware those living seals
Of every beauty work with quicker force,
The higher they are ris'n; and that there
I had not turn'd me to them; he may well
Excuse me that, whereof in my excuse
I do accuse me, and may own my truth;
That holy pleasure here not yet reveal'd,
Which grows in transport as we mount aloof.
True love, that ever shows itself as clear
In kindness, as loose appetite in wrong,
Silenced that lyre harmonious, and still'd
The sacred chords, that are by heav'n's right hand
Unwound and tighten'd, flow to righteous prayers
Should they not hearken, who, to give me will
For praying, in accordance thus were mute?
He hath in sooth good cause for endless grief,
Who, for the love of thing that lasteth not,
Despoils himself forever of that love.
     As oft along the still and pure serene,
At nightfall, glides a sudden trail of fire,
Attracting with involuntary heed
The eye to follow it, erewhile at rest,
And seems some star that shifted place in heav'n,
Only that, whence it kindles, none is lost,
And it is soon extinct; thus from the horn,
That on the dexter of the cross extends,
Down to its foot, one luminary ran
From mid the cluster shone there; yet no gem
Dropp'd from its foil; and through the beamy list
Like flame in alabaster, glow'd its course.
     So forward stretch'd him (if of credence aught
Our greater muse may claim) the pious ghost
Of old Anchises, in the' Elysian bower,
When he perceiv'd his son.  "O thou, my blood!
O most exceeding grace divine!  to whom,
As now to thee, hath twice the heav'nly gate
Been e'er unclos'd?" so spake the light; whence I
Turn'd me toward him; then unto my dame
My sight directed, and on either side
Amazement waited me; for in her eyes
Was lighted such a smile, I thought that mine
Had div'd unto the bottom of my grace
And of my bliss in Paradise.  Forthwith
To hearing and to sight grateful alike,
The spirit to his proem added things
I understood not, so profound he spake;
Yet not of choice but through necessity
Mysterious; for his high conception scar'd
Beyond the mark of mortals.  When the flight
Of holy transport had so spent its rage,
That nearer to the level of our thought
The speech descended, the first sounds I heard
Were, "Best he thou, Triunal Deity!
That hast such favour in my seed vouchsaf'd!"
Then follow'd:  "No unpleasant thirst, tho' long,
Which took me reading in the sacred book,
Whose leaves or white or dusky never change,
Thou hast allay'd, my son, within this light,
From whence my voice thou hear'st; more thanks to her.
Who for such lofty mounting has with plumes
Begirt thee.  Thou dost deem thy thoughts to me
From him transmitted, who is first of all,
E'en as all numbers ray from unity;
And therefore dost not ask me who I am,
Or why to thee more joyous I appear,
Than any other in this gladsome throng.
The truth is as thou deem'st; for in this hue
Both less and greater in that mirror look,
In which thy thoughts, or ere thou think'st, are shown.
But, that the love, which keeps me wakeful ever,
Urging with sacred thirst of sweet desire,
May be contended fully, let thy voice,
Fearless, and frank and jocund, utter forth
Thy will distinctly, utter forth the wish,
Whereto my ready answer stands decreed."
     I turn'd me to Beatrice; and she heard
Ere I had spoken, smiling, an assent,
That to my will gave wings; and I began
"To each among your tribe, what time ye kenn'd
The nature, in whom naught unequal dwells,
Wisdom and love were in one measure dealt;
For that they are so equal in the sun,
From whence ye drew your radiance and your heat,
As makes all likeness scant.  But will and means,
In mortals, for the cause ye well discern,
With unlike wings are fledge.  A mortal I
Experience inequality like this,
And therefore give no thanks, but in the heart,
For thy paternal greeting.  This howe'er
I pray thee, living topaz!  that ingemm'st
This precious jewel, let me hear thy name."
     "I am thy root, O leaf!  whom to expect
Even, hath pleas'd me:  "thus the prompt reply
Prefacing, next it added;  "he, of whom
Thy kindred appellation comes, and who,
These hundred years and more, on its first ledge
Hath circuited the mountain, was my son
And thy great grandsire.  Well befits, his long
Endurance should he shorten'd by thy deeds.
     "Florence, within her ancient limit-mark,
Which calls her still to matin prayers and noon,
Was chaste and sober, and abode in peace.
She had no armlets and no head-tires then,
No purfled dames, no zone, that caught the eye
More than the person did.  Time was not yet,
When at his daughter's birth the sire grew pale.
For fear the age and dowry should exceed
On each side just proportion.  House was none
Void of its family; nor yet had come
Hardanapalus, to exhibit feats
Of chamber prowess.  Montemalo yet
O'er our suburban turret rose; as much
To be surpass in fall, as in its rising.
I saw Bellincione Berti walk abroad
In leathern girdle and a clasp of bone;
And, with no artful colouring on her cheeks,
His lady leave the glass.  The sons I saw
Of Nerli and of Vecchio well content
With unrob'd jerkin; and their good dames handling
The spindle and the flax; O happy they!
Each sure of burial in her native land,
And none left desolate a-bed for France!
One wak'd to tend the cradle, hushing it
With sounds that lull'd the parent's infancy:
Another, with her maidens, drawing off
The tresses from the distaff, lectur'd them
Old tales of Troy and Fesole and Rome.
A Salterello and Cianghella we
Had held as strange a marvel, as ye would
A Cincinnatus or Cornelia now.
     "In such compos'd and seemly fellowship,
Such faithful and such fair equality,
In so sweet household, Mary at my birth
Bestow'd me, call'd on with loud cries; and there
In your old baptistery, I was made
Christian at once and Cacciaguida; as were
My brethren, Eliseo and Moronto.
     "From Valdipado came to me my spouse,
And hence thy surname grew.  I follow'd then
The Emperor Conrad; and his knighthood he
Did gird on me; in such good part he took
My valiant service.  After him I went
To testify against that evil law,
Whose people, by the shepherd's fault, possess
Your right, usurping.  There, by that foul crew
Was I releas'd from the deceitful world,
Whose base affection many a spirit soils,
And from the martyrdom came to this peace."
O slight respect of man's nobility!
I never shall account it marvelous,
That our infirm affection here below
Thou mov'st to boasting, when I could not choose,
E'en in that region of unwarp'd desire,
In heav'n itself, but make my vaunt in thee!
Yet cloak thou art soon shorten'd, for that time,
Unless thou be eked out from day to day,
Goes round thee with his shears.  Resuming then
With greeting such, as Rome, was first to bear,
But since hath disaccustom'd I began;
And Beatrice, that a little space
Was sever'd, smil'd reminding me of her,
Whose cough embolden'd (as the story holds)
To first offence the doubting Guenever.
     "You are my sire," said I, "you give me heart
Freely to speak my thought: above myself
You raise me.  Through so many streams with joy
My soul is fill'd, that gladness wells from it;
So that it bears the mighty tide, and bursts not
Say then, my honour'd stem!  what ancestors
Where those you sprang from, and what years were mark'd
In your first childhood?  Tell me of the fold,
That hath Saint John for guardian, what was then
Its state, and who in it were highest seated?"
     As embers, at the breathing of the wind,
Their flame enliven, so that light I saw
Shine at my blandishments; and, as it grew
More fair to look on, so with voice more sweet,
Yet not in this our modern phrase, forthwith
It answer'd:  "From the day, when it was said
' Hail Virgin!' to the throes, by which my mother,
Who now is sainted, lighten'd her of me
Whom she was heavy with, this fire had come,
Five hundred fifty times and thrice, its beams
To reilumine underneath the foot
Of its own lion.  They, of whom I sprang,
And I, had there our birth-place, where the last
Partition of our city first is reach'd
By him, that runs her annual game.  Thus much
Suffice of my forefathers: who they were,
And whence they hither came, more honourable
It is to pass in silence than to tell.
All those, who in that time were there from Mars
Until the Baptist, fit to carry arms,
Were but the fifth of them this day alive.
But then the citizen's blood, that now is mix'd
From Campi and Certaldo and Fighine,
Ran purely through the last mechanic's veins.
O how much better were it, that these people
Were neighbours to you, and that at Galluzzo
And at Trespiano, ye should have your bound'ry,
Than to have them within, and bear the stench
Of Aguglione's hind, and Signa's, him,
That hath his eye already keen for bart'ring!
Had not the people, which of all the world
Degenerates most, been stepdame unto Caesar,
But, as a mother, gracious to her son;
Such one, as hath become a Florentine,
And trades and traffics, had been turn'd adrift
To Simifonte, where his grandsire ply'd
The beggar's craft.  The Conti were possess'd
Of Montemurlo still: the Cerchi still
Were in Acone's parish; nor had haply
From Valdigrieve past the Buondelmonte.
The city's malady hath ever source
In the confusion of its persons, as
The body's, in variety of food:
And the blind bull falls with a steeper plunge,
Than the blind lamb; and oftentimes one sword
Doth more and better execution,
Than five.  Mark Luni, Urbisaglia mark,
How they are gone, and after them how go
Chiusi and Sinigaglia; and 't will seem
No longer new or strange to thee to hear,
That families fail, when cities have their end.
All things, that appertain t' ye, like yourselves,
Are mortal: but mortality in some
Ye mark not, they endure so long, and you
Pass by so suddenly.  And as the moon
Doth, by the rolling of her heav'nly sphere,
Hide and reveal the strand unceasingly;
So fortune deals with Florence.  Hence admire not
At what of them I tell thee, whose renown
Time covers, the first Florentines.  I saw
The Ughi, Catilini and Filippi,
The Alberichi, Greci and Ormanni,
Now in their wane, illustrious citizens:
And great as ancient, of Sannella him,
With him of Arca saw, and Soldanieri
And Ardinghi, and Bostichi.  At the poop,
That now is laden with new felony,
So cumb'rous it may speedily sink the bark,
The Ravignani sat, of whom is sprung
The County Guido, and whoso hath since
His title from the fam'd Bellincione ta'en.
Fair governance was yet an art well priz'd
By him of Pressa:  Galigaio show'd
The gilded hilt and pommel, in his house.
The column, cloth'd with verrey, still was seen
Unshaken:  the Sacchetti still were great,
Giouchi, Sifanti, Galli and Barucci,
With them who blush to hear the bushel nam'd.
Of the Calfucci still the branchy trunk
Was in its strength: and to the curule chairs
Sizii and Arigucci yet were drawn.
How mighty them I saw, whom since their pride
Hath undone!  and in all her goodly deeds
Florence was by the bullets of bright gold
O'erflourish'd.  Such the sires of those, who now,
As surely as your church is vacant, flock
Into her consistory, and at leisure
There stall them and grow fat.  The o'erweening brood,
That plays the dragon after him that flees,
But unto such, as turn and show the tooth,
Ay or the purse, is gentle as a lamb,
Was on its rise, but yet so slight esteem'd,
That Ubertino of Donati grudg'd
His father-in-law should yoke him to its tribe.
Already Caponsacco had descended
Into the mart from Fesole:  and Giuda
And Infangato were good citizens.
A thing incredible I tell, tho' true:
The gateway, named from those of Pera, led
Into the narrow circuit of your walls.
Each one, who bears the sightly quarterings
Of the great Baron (he whose name and worth
The festival of Thomas still revives)
His knighthood and his privilege retain'd;
Albeit one, who borders them With gold,
This day is mingled with the common herd.
In Borgo yet the Gualterotti dwelt,
And Importuni: well for its repose
Had it still lack'd of newer neighbourhood.
The house, from whence your tears have had their spring,
Through the just anger that hath murder'd ye
And put a period to your gladsome days,
Was honour'd, it, and those consorted with it.
O Buondelmonte!  what ill counseling
Prevail'd on thee to break the plighted bond
Many, who now are weeping, would rejoice,
Had God to Ema giv'n thee, the first time
Thou near our city cam'st.  But so was doom'd:
On that maim'd stone set up to guard the bridge,
At thy last peace, the victim, Florence!  fell.
With these and others like to them, I saw
Florence in such assur'd tranquility,
She had no cause at which to grieve: with these
Saw her so glorious and so just, that ne'er
The lily from the lance had hung reverse,
Or through division been with vermeil dyed."
Such as the youth, who came to Clymene
To certify himself of that reproach,
Which had been fasten'd on him, (he whose end
Still makes the fathers chary to their sons,
E'en such was I; nor unobserv'd was such
Of Beatrice, and that saintly lamp,
Who had erewhile for me his station mov'd;
When thus by lady:  "Give thy wish free vent,
That it may issue, bearing true report
Of the mind's impress; not that aught thy words
May to our knowledge add, but to the end,
That thou mayst use thyself to own thy thirst
And men may mingle for thee when they hear."
     "O plant!  from whence I spring! rever'd and lov'd!
Who soar'st so high a pitch, thou seest as clear,
As earthly thought determines two obtuse
In one triangle not contain'd, so clear
Dost see contingencies, ere in themselves
Existent, looking at the point whereto
All times are present, I, the whilst I scal'd
With Virgil the soul purifying mount,
And visited the nether world of woe,
Touching my future destiny have heard
Words grievous, though I feel me on all sides
Well squar'd to fortune's blows.  Therefore my will
Were satisfied to know the lot awaits me,
The arrow, seen beforehand, slacks its flight."
     So said I to the brightness, which erewhile
To me had spoken, and my will declar'd,
As Beatrice will'd, explicitly.
Nor with oracular response obscure,
Such, as or ere the Lamb of God was slain,
Beguil'd the credulous nations; but, in terms
Precise and unambiguous lore, replied
The spirit of paternal love, enshrin'd,
Yet in his smile apparent; and thus spake:
"Contingency, unfolded not to view
Upon the tablet of your mortal mold,
Is all depictur'd in the' eternal sight;
But hence deriveth not necessity,
More then the tall ship, hurried down the flood,
Doth from the vision, that reflects the scene.
From thence, as to the ear sweet harmony
From organ comes, so comes before mine eye
The time prepar'd for thee.  Such as driv'n out
From Athens, by his cruel stepdame's wiles,
Hippolytus departed, such must thou
Depart from Florence.  This they wish, and this
Contrive, and will ere long effectuate, there,
Where gainful merchandize is made of Christ,
Throughout the livelong day.  The common cry,
Will, as 't is ever wont, affix the blame
Unto the party injur'd:  but the truth
Shall, in the vengeance it dispenseth, find
A faithful witness.  Thou shall leave each thing
Belov'd most dearly:  this is the first shaft
Shot from the bow of exile.  Thou shalt prove
How salt the savour is of other's bread,
How hard the passage to descend and climb
By other's stairs, But that shall gall thee most
Will he the worthless and vile company,
With whom thou must be thrown into these straits.
For all ungrateful, impious all and mad,
Shall turn 'gainst thee:  but in a little while
Theirs and not thine shall be the crimson'd brow
Their course shall so evince their brutishness
T' have ta'en thy stand apart shall well become thee.
     "First refuge thou must find, first place of rest,
In the great Lombard's courtesy, who bears
Upon the ladder perch'd the sacred bird.
He shall behold thee with such kind regard,
That 'twixt ye two, the contrary to that
Which falls 'twixt other men, the granting shall
Forerun the asking.  With him shalt thou see
That mortal, who was at his birth impress
So strongly from this star, that of his deeds
The nations shall take note.  His unripe age
Yet holds him from observance; for these wheels
Only nine years have compass him about.
But, ere the Gascon practice on great Harry,
Sparkles of virtue shall shoot forth in him,
In equal scorn of labours and of gold.
His bounty shall be spread abroad so widely,
As not to let the tongues e'en of his foes
Be idle in its praise.  Look thou to him
And his beneficence:  for he shall cause
Reversal of their lot to many people,
Rich men and beggars interchanging fortunes.
And thou shalt bear this written in thy soul
Of him, but tell it not; "and things he told
Incredible to those who witness them;
Then added:  "So interpret thou, my son,
What hath been told thee.--Lo!  the ambushment
That a few circling seasons hide for thee!
Yet envy not thy neighbours: time extends
Thy span beyond their treason's chastisement."
     Soon, as the saintly spirit, by his silence,
Had shown the web, which I had streteh'd for him
Upon the warp, was woven, I began,
As one, who in perplexity desires
Counsel of other, wise, benign and friendly:
"My father!  well I mark how time spurs on
Toward me, ready to inflict the blow,
Which falls most heavily on him, who most
Abandoned himself.  Therefore 't is good
I should forecast, that driven from the place
Most dear to me, I may not lose myself
All others by my song.  Down through the world
Of infinite mourning, and along the mount
From whose fair height my lady's eyes did lift me,
And after through this heav'n from light to light,
Have I learnt that, which if I tell again,
It may with many woefully disrelish;
And, if I am a timid friend to truth,
I fear my life may perish among those,
To whom these days shall be of ancient date."
     The brightness, where enclos'd the treasure smil'd,
Which I had found there, first shone glisteningly,
Like to a golden mirror in the sun;
Next answer'd:  "Conscience, dimm'd or by its own
Or other's shame, will feel thy saying sharp.
Thou, notwithstanding, all deceit remov'd,
See the whole vision be made manifest.
And let them wince who have their withers wrung.
What though, when tasted first, thy voice shall prove
Unwelcome, on digestion it will turn
To vital nourishment.  The cry thou raisest,
Shall, as the wind doth, smite the proudest summits;
Which is of honour no light argument,
For this there only have been shown to thee,
Throughout these orbs, the mountain, and the deep,
Spirits, whom fame hath note of.  For the mind
Of him, who hears, is loth to acquiesce
And fix its faith, unless the instance brought
Be palpable, and proof apparent urge."
Now in his word, sole, ruminating, joy'd
That blessed spirit; and I fed on mine,
Tempting the sweet with bitter:  she meanwhile,
Who led me unto God, admonish'd:  "Muse
On other thoughts: bethink thee, that near Him
I dwell, who recompenseth every wrong."
     At the sweet sounds of comfort straight I turn'd;
And, in the saintly eyes what love was seen,
I leave in silence here:  nor through distrust
Of my words only, but that to such bliss
The mind remounts not without aid.  Thus much
Yet may I speak; that, as I gaz'd on her,
Affection found no room for other wish.
While the everlasting pleasure, that did full
On Beatrice shine, with second view
From her fair countenance my gladden'd soul
Contented; vanquishing me with a beam
Of her soft smile, she spake:  "Turn thee, and list.
These eyes are not thy only Paradise."
     As here we sometimes in the looks may see
Th' affection mark'd, when that its sway hath ta'en
The spirit wholly; thus the hallow'd light,
To whom I turn'd, flashing, bewray'd its will
To talk yet further with me, and began:
"On this fifth lodgment of the tree, whose life
Is from its top, whose fruit is ever fair
And leaf unwith'ring, blessed spirits abide,
That were below, ere they arriv'd in heav'n,
So mighty in renown, as every muse
Might grace her triumph with them.  On the horns
Look therefore of the cross:  he, whom I name,
Shall there enact, as doth 1n summer cloud
Its nimble fire."  Along the cross I saw,
At the repeated name of Joshua,
A splendour gliding; nor, the word was said,
Ere it was done:  then, at the naming saw
Of the great Maccabee, another move
With whirling speed; and gladness was the scourge
Unto that top.  The next for Charlemagne
And for the peer Orlando, two my gaze
Pursued, intently, as the eye pursues
A falcon flying.  Last, along the cross,
William, and Renard, and Duke Godfrey drew
My ken, and Robert Guiscard.  And the soul,
Who spake with me among the other lights
Did move away, and mix; and with the choir
Of heav'nly songsters prov'd his tuneful skill.
     To Beatrice on my right l bent,
Looking for intimation or by word
Or act, what next behoov'd;  and did descry
Such mere effulgence in her eyes, such joy,
It past all former wont.  And, as by sense
Of new delight, the man, who perseveres
In good deeds doth perceive from day to day
His virtue growing; I e'en thus perceiv'd
Of my ascent, together with the heav'n
The circuit widen'd, noting the increase
Of beauty in that wonder.  Like the change
In a brief moment on some maiden's cheek,
Which from its fairness doth discharge the weight
Of pudency, that stain'd it; such in her,
And to mine eyes so sudden was the change,
Through silvery whiteness of that temperate star,
Whose sixth orb now enfolded us.  I saw,
Within that Jovial cresset, the clear sparks
Of love, that reign'd there, fashion to my view
Our language.  And as birds, from river banks
Arisen, now in round, now lengthen'd troop,
Array them in their flight, greeting, as seems,
Their new-found pastures; so, within the lights,
The saintly creatures flying, sang, and made
Now D. now I. now L. figur'd I' th' air.
First, singing, to their notes they mov'd, then one
Becoming of these signs, a little while
Did rest them, and were mute.  O nymph divine
Of Pegasean race!  whose souls, which thou
Inspir'st, mak'st glorious and long-liv'd, as they
Cities and realms by thee!  thou with thyself
Inform me; that I may set forth the shapes,
As fancy doth present them.  Be thy power
Display'd in this brief song.  The characters,
Vocal and consonant, were five-fold seven.
In order each, as they appear'd, I mark'd.
Diligite Justitiam, the first,
Both verb and noun all blazon'd; and the extreme
Qui judicatis terram.  In the M.
Of the fifth word they held their station,
Making the star seem silver streak'd with gold.
And on the summit of the M. I saw
Descending other lights, that rested there,
Singing, methinks, their bliss and primal good.
Then, as at shaking of a lighted brand,
Sparkles innumerable on all sides
Rise scatter'd, source of augury to th' unwise;
Thus more than thousand twinkling lustres hence
Seem'd reascending, and a higher pitch
Some mounting, and some less; e'en as the sun,
Which kindleth them, decreed.  And when each one
Had settled in his place, the head and neck
Then saw I of an eagle, lively
Grav'd in that streaky fire.  Who painteth there,
Hath none to guide him; of himself he guides;
And every line and texture of the nest
Doth own from him the virtue, fashions it.
The other bright beatitude, that seem'd
Erewhile, with lilied crowning, well content
To over-canopy the M. mov'd forth,
Following gently the impress of the bird.
      Sweet star!  what glorious and thick-studded gems
Declar'd to me our justice on the earth
To be the effluence of that heav'n, which thou,
Thyself a costly jewel, dost inlay!
Therefore I pray the Sovran Mind, from whom
Thy motion and thy virtue are begun,
That he would look from whence the fog doth rise,
To vitiate thy beam: so that once more
He may put forth his hand 'gainst such, as drive
Their traffic in that sanctuary, whose walls
With miracles and martyrdoms were built.
     Ye host of heaven!  whose glory I survey l
O beg ye grace for those, that are on earth
All after ill example gone astray.
War once had for its instrument the sword:
But now 't is made, taking the bread away
Which the good Father locks from none.  --And thou,
That writes but to cancel, think, that they,
Who for the vineyard, which thou wastest, died,
Peter and Paul live yet, and mark thy doings.
Thou hast good cause to cry, "My heart so cleaves
To him, that liv'd in solitude remote,
And from the wilds was dragg'd to martyrdom,
I wist not of the fisherman nor Paul."
Before my sight appear'd, with open wings,
The beauteous image, in fruition sweet
Gladdening the thronged spirits.  Each did seem
A little ruby, whereon so intense
The sun-beam glow'd that to mine eyes it came
In clear refraction.  And that, which next
Befalls me to portray, voice hath not utter'd,
Nor hath ink written, nor in fantasy
Was e'er conceiv'd.  For I beheld and heard
The beak discourse; and, what intention form'd
Of many, singly as of one express,
Beginning:  "For that I was just and piteous,
l am exalted to this height of glory,
The which no wish exceeds: and there on earth
Have I my memory left, e'en by the bad
Commended, while they leave its course untrod."
     Thus is one heat from many embers felt,
As in that image many were the loves,
And one the voice, that issued from them all.
Whence I address them:  "O perennial flowers
Of gladness everlasting!  that exhale
In single breath your odours manifold!
Breathe now; and let the hunger be appeas'd,
That with great craving long hath held my soul,
Finding no food on earth.  This well I know,
That if there be in heav'n a realm, that shows
In faithful mirror the celestial Justice,
Yours without veil reflects it.  Ye discern
The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself
To hearken; ye the doubt that urges me
With such inveterate craving."  Straight I saw,
Like to a falcon issuing from the hood,
That rears his head, and claps him with his wings,
His beauty and his eagerness bewraying.
So saw I move that stately sign, with praise
Of grace divine inwoven and high song
Of inexpressive joy.  "He," it began,
"Who turn'd his compass on the world's extreme,
And in that space so variously hath wrought,
Both openly, and in secret, in such wise
Could not through all the universe display
Impression of his glory, that the Word
Of his omniscience should not still remain
In infinite excess.  In proof whereof,
He first through pride supplanted, who was sum
Of each created being, waited not
For light celestial, and abortive fell.
Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant
Receptacle unto that Good, which knows
No limit, measur'd by itself alone.
Therefore your sight, of th' omnipresent Mind
A single beam, its origin must own
Surpassing far its utmost potency.
The ken, your world is gifted with, descends
In th' everlasting Justice as low down,
As eye doth in the sea; which though it mark
The bottom from the shore, in the wide main
Discerns it not; and ne'ertheless it is,
But hidden through its deepness.  Light is none,
Save that which cometh from the pure serene
Of ne'er disturbed ether: for the rest,
'Tis darkness all, or shadow of the flesh,
Or else its poison.  Here confess reveal'd
That covert, which hath hidden from thy search
The living justice, of the which thou mad'st
Such frequent question; for thou saidst--'A man
Is born on Indus' banks, and none is there
Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write,
And all his inclinations and his acts,
As far as human reason sees, are good,
And he offendeth not in word or deed.
But unbaptiz'd he dies, and void of faith.
Where is the justice that condemns him?  where
His blame, if he believeth not?'--What then,
And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit
To judge at distance of a thousand miles
With the short-sighted vision of a span?
To him, who subtilizes thus with me,
There would assuredly be room for doubt
Even to wonder, did not the safe word
Of scripture hold supreme authority.
     "O animals of clay!  O spirits gross I
The primal will, that in itself is good,
Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne'er been mov'd.
Justice consists in consonance with it,
Derivable by no created good,
Whose very cause depends upon its beam."
     As on her nest the stork, that turns about
Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed,
While they with upward eyes do look on her;
So lifted I my gaze; and bending so
The ever-blessed image wav'd its wings,
Lab'ring with such deep counsel.  Wheeling round
It warbled, and did say:  "As are my notes
To thee, who understand'st them not, such is
Th' eternal judgment unto mortal ken."
     Then still abiding in that ensign rang'd,
Wherewith the Romans over-awed the world,
Those burning splendours of the Holy Spirit
Took up the strain; and thus it spake again:
"None ever hath ascended to this realm,
Who hath not a believer been in Christ,
Either before or after the blest limbs
Were nail'd upon the wood.  But lo!  of those
Who call 'Christ, Christ,' there shall be many found,
 In judgment, further off from him by far,
Than such, to whom his name was never known.
Christians like these the Ethiop shall condemn:
When that the two assemblages shall part;
One rich eternally, the other poor.
     "What may the Persians say unto your kings,
When they shall see that volume, in the which
All their dispraise is written, spread to view?
There amidst Albert's works shall that be read,
Which will give speedy motion to the pen,
When Prague shall mourn her desolated realm.
There shall be read the woe, that he doth work
With his adulterate money on the Seine,
Who by the tusk will perish: there be read
The thirsting pride, that maketh fool alike
The English and Scot, impatient of their bound.
There shall be seen the Spaniard's luxury,
The delicate living there of the Bohemian,
Who still to worth has been a willing stranger.
The halter of Jerusalem shall see
A unit for his virtue, for his vices
No less a mark than million.  He, who guards
The isle of fire by old Anchises honour'd
Shall find his avarice there and cowardice;
And better to denote his littleness,
The writing must be letters maim'd, that speak
Much in a narrow space.  All there shall know
His uncle and his brother's filthy doings,
Who so renown'd a nation and two crowns
Have bastardized.  And they, of Portugal
And Norway, there shall be expos'd with him
Of Ratza, who hath counterfeited ill
The coin of Venice.  O blest Hungary!
If thou no longer patiently abid'st
Thy ill-entreating!  and, O blest Navarre!
If with thy mountainous girdle thou wouldst arm thee
In earnest of that day, e'en now are heard
Wailings and groans in Famagosta's streets
And Nicosia's, grudging at their beast,
Who keepeth even footing with the rest."
When, disappearing, from our hemisphere,
The world's enlightener vanishes, and day
On all sides wasteth, suddenly the sky,
Erewhile irradiate only with his beam,
Is yet again unfolded, putting forth
Innumerable lights wherein one shines.
Of such vicissitude in heaven I thought,
As the great sign, that marshaleth the world
And the world's leaders, in the blessed beak
Was silent; for that all those living lights,
Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs,
Such as from memory glide and fall away.
     Sweet love!  that dost apparel thee in smiles,
How lustrous was thy semblance in those sparkles,
Which merely are from holy thoughts inspir'd!
     After the precious and bright beaming stones,
That did ingem the sixth light, ceas'd the chiming
Of their angelic bells; methought I heard
The murmuring of a river, that doth fall
From rock to rock transpicuous, making known
The richness of his spring-head: and as sound
Of cistern, at the fret-board, or of pipe,
Is, at the wind-hole, modulate and tun'd;
Thus up the neck, as it were hollow, rose
That murmuring of the eagle, and forthwith
Voice there assum'd, and thence along the beak
Issued in form of words, such as my heart
Did look for, on whose tables I inscrib'd them.
     "The part in me, that sees, and bears the sun,,
In mortal eagles," it began, "must now
Be noted steadfastly: for of the fires,
That figure me, those, glittering in mine eye,
Are chief of all the greatest.  This, that shines
Midmost for pupil, was the same, who sang
The Holy Spirit's song, and bare about
The ark from town to town; now doth he know
The merit of his soul-impassion'd strains
By their well-fitted guerdon.  Of the five,
That make the circle of the vision, he
Who to the beak is nearest, comforted
The widow for her son: now doth he know
How dear he costeth not to follow Christ,
Both from experience of this pleasant life,
And of its opposite.  He next, who follows
In the circumference, for the over arch,
By true repenting slack'd the pace of death:
Now knoweth he, that the degrees of heav'n
Alter not, when through pious prayer below
Today's is made tomorrow's destiny.
The other following, with the laws and me,
To yield the shepherd room, pass'd o'er to Greece,
From good intent producing evil fruit:
Now knoweth he, how all the ill, deriv'd
From his well doing, doth not helm him aught,
Though it have brought destruction on the world.
That, which thou seest in the under bow,
Was William, whom that land bewails, which weeps
For Charles and Frederick living: now he knows
How well is lov'd in heav'n the righteous king,
Which he betokens by his radiant seeming.
Who in the erring world beneath would deem,
That Trojan Ripheus in this round was set
Fifth of the saintly splendours?  now he knows
Enough of that, which the world cannot see,
The grace divine, albeit e'en his sight
Reach not its utmost depth."  Like to the lark,
That warbling in the air expatiates long,
Then, trilling out his last sweet melody,
Drops satiate with the sweetness; such appear'd
That image stampt by the' everlasting pleasure,
Which fashions like itself all lovely things.
     I, though my doubting were as manifest,
As is through glass the hue that mantles it,
In silence waited not: for to my lips
"What things are these?"  involuntary rush'd,
And forc'd a passage out: whereat I mark'd
A sudden lightening and new revelry.
The eye was kindled: and the blessed sign
No more to keep me wond'ring and suspense,
Replied:  "I see that thou believ'st these things,
Because I tell them, but discern'st not how;
So that thy knowledge waits not on thy faith:
As one who knows the name of thing by rote,
But is a stranger to its properties,
Till other's tongue reveal them.  Fervent love
And lively hope with violence assail
The kingdom of the heavens, and overcome
The will of the Most high; not in such sort
As man prevails o'er man; but conquers it,
Because 't is willing to be conquer'd, still,
Though conquer'd, by its mercy conquering.
     "Those, in the eye who live the first and fifth,
Cause thee to marvel, in that thou behold'st
The region of the angels deck'd with them.
They quitted not their bodies, as thou deem'st,
Gentiles but Christians, in firm rooted faith,
This of the feet in future to be pierc'd,
That of feet nail'd already to the cross.
One from the barrier of the dark abyss,
Where never any with good will returns,
Came back unto his bones.  Of lively hope
Such was the meed; of lively hope, that wing'd
The prayers sent up to God for his release,
And put power into them to bend his will.
The glorious Spirit, of whom I speak to thee,
A little while returning to the flesh,
Believ'd in him, who had the means to help,
And, in believing, nourish'd such a flame
Of holy love, that at the second death
He was made sharer in our gamesome mirth.
The other, through the riches of that grace,
Which from so deep a fountain doth distil,
As never eye created saw its rising,
Plac'd all his love below on just and right:
Wherefore of grace God op'd in him the eye
To the redemption of mankind to come;
Wherein believing, he endur'd no more
The filth of paganism, and for their ways
Rebuk'd the stubborn nations.  The three nymphs,
Whom at the right wheel thou beheldst advancing,
Were sponsors for him more than thousand years
Before baptizing.  O how far remov'd,
Predestination!  is thy root from such
As see not the First cause entire: and ye,
O mortal men!  be wary how ye judge:
For we, who see our Maker, know not yet
The number of the chosen: and esteem
Such scantiness of knowledge our delight:
For all our good is in that primal good
Concentrate, and God's will and ours are one."
     So, by that form divine, was giv'n to me
Sweet medicine to clear and strengthen sight,
And, as one handling skillfully the harp,
Attendant on some skilful songster's voice
Bids the chords vibrate, and therein the song
Acquires more pleasure; so, the whilst it spake,
It doth remember me, that I beheld
The pair of blessed luminaries move.
Like the accordant twinkling of two eyes,
Their beamy circlets, dancing to the sounds.
Again mine eyes were fix'd on Beatrice,
And with mine eyes my soul, that in her looks
Found all contentment.  Yet no smile she wore
And, "Did I smile," quoth she, "thou wouldst be straight
Like Semele when into ashes turn'd:
For, mounting these eternal palace-stairs,
My beauty, which the loftier it climbs,
As thou hast noted, still doth kindle more,
So shines, that, were no temp'ring interpos'd,
Thy mortal puissance would from its rays
Shrink, as the leaf doth from the thunderbolt.
Into the seventh splendour are we wafted,
That underneath the burning lion's breast
Beams, in this hour, commingled with his might,
Thy mind be with thine eyes: and in them mirror'd
The shape, which in this mirror shall be shown."
Whoso can deem, how fondly I had fed
My sight upon her blissful countenance,
May know, when to new thoughts I chang'd, what joy
To do the bidding of my heav'nly guide:
In equal balance poising either weight.
     Within the crystal, which records the name,
(As its remoter circle girds the world)
Of that lov'd monarch, in whose happy reign
No ill had power to harm, I saw rear'd up,
In colour like to sun-illumin'd gold.
A ladder, which my ken pursued in vain,
So lofty was the summit; down whose steps
I saw the splendours in such multitude
Descending, ev'ry light in heav'n, methought,
Was shed thence.  As the rooks, at dawn of day
Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill,
Some speed their way a-field, and homeward some,
Returning, cross their flight, while some abide
And wheel around their airy lodge; so seem'd
That glitterance, wafted on alternate wing,
As upon certain stair it met, and clash'd
Its shining. And one ling'ring near us, wax'd
So bright, that in my thought: said: "The love,
Which this betokens me, admits no doubt."
     Unwillingly from question I refrain,
To her, by whom my silence and my speech
Are order'd, looking for a sign: whence she,
Who in the sight of Him, that seeth all,
Saw wherefore I was silent, prompted me
T' indulge the fervent wish; and I began:
"I am not worthy, of my own desert,
That thou shouldst answer me; but for her sake,
Who hath vouchsaf'd my asking, spirit blest!
That in thy joy art shrouded!  say the cause,
Which bringeth thee so near: and wherefore, say,
Doth the sweet symphony of Paradise
Keep silence here, pervading with such sounds
Of rapt devotion ev'ry lower sphere?"
"Mortal art thou in hearing as in sight;"
Was the reply:  "and what forbade the smile
Of Beatrice interrupts our song.
Only to yield thee gladness of my voice,
And of the light that vests me, I thus far
Descend these hallow'd steps: not that more love
Invites me; for lo!  there aloft, as much
Or more of love is witness'd in those flames:
But such my lot by charity assign'd,
That makes us ready servants, as thou seest,
To execute the counsel of the Highest.
"That in this court," said I, "O sacred lamp!
Love no compulsion needs, but follows free
Th' eternal Providence, I well discern:
This harder find to deem, why of thy peers
Thou only to this office wert foredoom'd."
I had not ended, when, like rapid mill,
Upon its centre whirl'd the light; and then
The love, that did inhabit there, replied:
"Splendour eternal, piercing through these folds,
Its virtue to my vision knits, and thus
Supported, lifts me so above myself,
That on the sov'ran essence, which it wells from,
I have the power to gaze: and hence the joy,
Wherewith I sparkle, equaling with my blaze
The keenness of my sight.  But not the soul,
That is in heav'n most lustrous, nor the seraph
That hath his eyes most fix'd on God, shall solve
What thou hast ask'd: for in th' abyss it lies
Of th' everlasting statute sunk so low,
That no created ken may fathom it.
And, to the mortal world when thou return'st,
Be this reported; that none henceforth dare
Direct his footsteps to so dread a bourn.
The mind, that here is radiant, on the earth
Is wrapt in mist.  Look then if she may do,
Below, what passeth her ability,
When she is ta'en to heav'n."  By words like these
Admonish'd, I the question urg'd no more;
And of the spirit humbly sued alone
T' instruct me of its state.  "'Twixt either shore
Of Italy, nor distant from thy land,
A stony ridge ariseth, in such sort,
The thunder doth not lift his voice so high,
They call it Catria: at whose foot a cell
Is sacred to the lonely Eremite,
For worship set apart and holy rites."
A third time thus it spake; then added:  "There
So firmly to God's service I adher'd,
That with no costlier viands than the juice
Of olives, easily I pass'd the heats
Of summer and the winter frosts, content
In heav'n-ward musings.  Rich were the returns
And fertile, which that cloister once was us'd
To render to these heavens: now 't is fall'n
Into a waste so empty, that ere long
Detection must lay bare its vanity
Pietro Damiano there was I y-clept:
Pietro the sinner, when before I dwelt
Beside the Adriatic, in the house
Of our blest Lady.  Near upon my close
Of mortal life, through much importuning
I was constrain'd to wear the hat that still
From bad to worse it shifted.--Cephas came;
He came, who was the Holy Spirit's vessel,
Barefoot and lean, eating their bread, as chanc'd,
At the first table.  Modern Shepherd's need
Those who on either hand may prop and lead them,
So burly are they grown: and from behind
Others to hoist them.  Down the palfrey's sides
Spread their broad mantles, so as both the beasts
Are cover'd with one skin.  O patience!  thou
That lookst on this and doth endure so long."
I at those accents saw the splendours down
From step to step alight, and wheel, and wax,
Each circuiting, more beautiful.  Round this
They came, and stay'd them; uttered them a shout
So loud, it hath no likeness here: nor I
Wist what it spake, so deaf'ning was the thunder.
Astounded, to the guardian of my steps
I turn'd me, like the chill, who always runs
Thither for succour, where he trusteth most,
And she was like the mother, who her son
Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice
Soothes him, and he is cheer'd; for thus she spake,
Soothing me:  "Know'st not thou, thou art in heav'n?
And know'st not thou, whatever is in heav'n,
Is holy, and that nothing there is done
But is done zealously and well?  Deem now,
What change in thee the song, and what my smile
had wrought, since thus the shout had pow'r to move thee.
In which couldst thou have understood their prayers,
The vengeance were already known to thee,
Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour,
The sword of heav'n is not in haste to smite,
Nor yet doth linger, save unto his seeming,
Who in desire or fear doth look for it.
But elsewhere now l bid thee turn thy view;
So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold."
Mine eyes directing, as she will'd, I saw
A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew
By interchange of splendour.  I remain'd,
As one, who fearful of o'er-much presuming,
Abates in him the keenness of desire,
Nor dares to question, when amid those pearls,
One largest and most lustrous onward drew,
That it might yield contentment to my wish;
And from within it these the sounds I heard.
     "If thou, like me, beheldst the charity
That burns amongst us, what thy mind conceives,
Were utter'd.  But that, ere the lofty bound
Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee,
I will make answer even to the thought,
Which thou hast such respect of.  In old days,
That mountain, at whose side Cassino rests,
Was on its height frequented by a race
Deceived and ill dispos'd: and I it was,
Who thither carried first the name of Him,
Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man.
And such a speeding grace shone over me,
That from their impious worship I reclaim'd
The dwellers round about, who with the world
Were in delusion lost.  These other flames,
The spirits of men contemplative, were all
Enliven'd by that warmth, whose kindly force
Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness.
Here is Macarius; Romoaldo here:
And here my brethren, who their steps refrain'd
Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart."
     I answ'ring, thus; "Thy gentle words and kind,
And this the cheerful semblance, I behold
Not unobservant, beaming in ye all,
Have rais'd assurance in me, wakening it
Full-blossom'd in my bosom, as a rose
Before the sun, when the consummate flower
Has spread to utmost amplitude.  Of thee
Therefore entreat I, father!  to declare
If I may gain such favour, as to gaze
Upon thine image, by no covering veil'd."
     "Brother!"  he thus rejoin'd, "in the last sphere
Expect completion of thy lofty aim,
For there on each desire completion waits,
And there on mine: where every aim is found
Perfect, entire, and for fulfillment ripe.
There all things are as they have ever been:
For space is none to bound, nor pole divides,
Our ladder reaches even to that clime,
And so at giddy distance mocks thy view.
Thither the Patriarch Jacob saw it stretch
Its topmost round, when it appear'd to him
With angels laden.  But to mount it now
None lifts his foot from earth: and hence my rule
Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves;
The walls, for abbey rear'd, turned into dens,
The cowls to sacks choak'd up with musty meal.
Foul usury doth not more lift itself
Against God's pleasure, than that fruit which makes
The hearts of monks so wanton: for whate'er
Is in the church's keeping, all pertains.
To such, as sue for heav'n's sweet sake, and not
To those who in respect of kindred claim,
Or on more vile allowance.  Mortal flesh
Is grown so dainty, good beginnings last not
From the oak's birth, unto the acorn's setting.
His convent Peter founded without gold
Or silver; I with pray'rs and fasting mine;
And Francis his in meek humility.
And if thou note the point, whence each proceeds,
Then look what it hath err'd to, thou shalt find
The white grown murky.  Jordan was turn'd back;
And a less wonder, then the refluent sea,
May at God's pleasure work amendment here."
     So saying, to his assembly back he drew:
And they together cluster'd into one,
Then all roll'd upward like an eddying wind.
     The sweet dame beckon'd me to follow them:
And, by that influence only, so prevail'd
Over my nature, that no natural motion,
Ascending or descending here below,
Had, as I mounted, with my pennon vied.
     So, reader, as my hope is to return
Unto the holy triumph, for the which
I ofttimes wail my sins, and smite my breast,
Thou hadst been longer drawing out and thrusting
Thy finger in the fire, than I was, ere
The sign, that followeth Taurus, I beheld,
And enter'd its precinct.  O glorious stars!
O light impregnate with exceeding virtue!
To whom whate'er of genius lifteth me
Above the vulgar, grateful I refer;
With ye the parent of all mortal life
Arose and set, when I did first inhale
The Tuscan air; and afterward, when grace
Vouchsaf'd me entrance to the lofty wheel
That in its orb impels ye, fate decreed
My passage at your clime.  To you my soul
Devoutly sighs, for virtue even now
To meet the hard emprize that draws me on.
     "Thou art so near the sum of blessedness,"
Said Beatrice, "that behooves thy ken
Be vigilant and clear.  And, to this end,
Or even thou advance thee further, hence
Look downward, and contemplate, what a world
Already stretched under our feet there lies:
So as thy heart may, in its blithest mood,
Present itself to the triumphal throng,
Which through the' etherial concave comes rejoicing."
     I straight obey'd; and with mine eye return'd
Through all the seven spheres, and saw this globe
So pitiful of semblance, that perforce
It moved my smiles: and him in truth I hold
For wisest, who esteems it least: whose thoughts
Elsewhere are fix'd, him worthiest call and best.
I saw the daughter of Latona shine
Without the shadow, whereof late I deem'd
That dense and rare were cause.  Here I sustain'd
The visage, Hyperion!  of thy sun;
And mark'd, how near him with their circle, round
Move Maia and Dione; here discern'd
Jove's tempering 'twixt his sire and son; and hence
Their changes and their various aspects
Distinctly scann'd.  Nor might I not descry
Of all the seven, how bulky each, how swift;
Nor of their several distances not learn.
This petty area (o'er the which we stride
So fiercely), as along the eternal twins
I wound my way, appear'd before me all,
Forth from the havens stretch'd unto the hills.
Then to the beauteous eyes mine eyes return'd.
E'en as the bird, who midst the leafy bower
Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night,
With her sweet brood, impatient to descry
Their wished looks, and to bring home their food,
In the fond quest unconscious of her toil:
She, of the time prevenient, on the spray,
That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze
Expects the sun; nor ever, till the dawn,
Removeth from the east her eager ken;
So stood the dame erect, and bent her glance
Wistfully on that region, where the sun
Abateth most his speed; that, seeing her
Suspense and wand'ring, I became as one,
In whom desire is waken'd, and the hope
Of somewhat new to come fills with delight.
     Short space ensued; I was not held, I say,
Long in expectance, when I saw the heav'n
Wax more and more resplendent; and, "Behold,"
Cried Beatrice, "the triumphal hosts
Of Christ, and all the harvest reap'd at length
Of thy ascending up these spheres."  Meseem'd,
That, while she spake her image all did burn,
And in her eyes such fullness was of joy,
And I am fain to pass unconstrued by.
     As in the calm full moon, when Trivia smiles,
In peerless beauty, 'mid th' eternal nympus,
That paint through all its gulfs the blue profound
In bright pre-eminence so saw I there,
O'er million lamps a sun, from whom all drew
Their radiance as from ours the starry train:
And through the living light so lustrous glow'd
The substance, that my ken endur'd it not.
     O Beatrice!  sweet and precious guide!
Who cheer'd me with her comfortable words!
"Against the virtue, that o'erpow'reth thee,
Avails not to resist.  Here is the might,
And here the wisdom, which did open lay
The path, that had been yearned for so long,
Betwixt the heav'n and earth."  Like to the fire,
That, in a cloud imprison'd doth break out
Expansive, so that from its womb enlarg'd,
It falleth against nature to the ground;
Thus in that heav'nly banqueting my soul
Outgrew herself; and, in the transport lost.
Holds now remembrance none of what she was.
     "Ope thou thine eyes, and mark me: thou hast seen
Things, that empower thee to sustain my smile."
     I was as one, when a forgotten dream
Doth come across him, and he strives in vain
To shape it in his fantasy again,
Whenas that gracious boon was proffer'd me,
Which never may be cancel'd from the book,
Wherein the past is written.  Now were all
Those tongues to sound, that have on sweetest milk
Of Polyhymnia and her sisters fed
And fatten'd, not with all their help to boot,
Unto the thousandth parcel of the truth,
My song might shadow forth that saintly smile,
flow merely in her saintly looks it wrought.
And with such figuring of Paradise
The sacred strain must leap, like one, that meets
A sudden interruption to his road.
But he, who thinks how ponderous the theme,
And that 't is lain upon a mortal shoulder,
May pardon, if it tremble with the burden.
The track, our ventrous keel must furrow, brooks
No unribb'd pinnace, no self-sparing pilot.
     "Why doth my face," said Beatrice, "thus
Enamour thee, as that thou dost not turn
Unto the beautiful garden, blossoming
Beneath the rays of Christ?  Here is the rose,
Wherein the word divine was made incarnate;
And here the lilies, by whose odour known
The way of life was follow'd."  Prompt I heard
Her bidding, and encounter once again
The strife of aching vision.  As erewhile,
Through glance of sunlight, stream'd through broken cloud,
Mine eyes a flower-besprinkled mead have seen,
Though veil'd themselves in shade; so saw I there
Legions of splendours, on whom burning rays
Shed lightnings from above, yet saw I not
The fountain whence they flow'd.  O gracious virtue!
Thou, whose broad stamp is on them, higher up
Thou didst exalt thy glory to give room
To my o'erlabour'd sight: when at the name
Of that fair flower, whom duly I invoke
Both morn and eve, my soul, with all her might
Collected, on the goodliest ardour fix'd.
And, as the bright dimensions of the star
In heav'n excelling, as once here on earth
Were, in my eyeballs lively portray'd,
Lo!  from within the sky a cresset fell,
Circling in fashion of a diadem,
And girt the star, and hov'ring round it wheel'd.
     Whatever melody sounds sweetest here,
And draws the spirit most unto itself,
Might seem a rent cloud when it grates the thunder,
Compar'd unto the sounding of that lyre,
Wherewith the goodliest sapphire, that inlays
The floor of heav'n, was crown'd. " Angelic Love
I am, who thus with hov'ring flight enwheel
The lofty rapture from that womb inspir'd,
Where our desire did dwell: and round thee so,
Lady of Heav'n!  will hover; long as thou
Thy Son shalt follow, and diviner joy
Shall from thy presence gild the highest sphere."
     Such close was to the circling melody:
And, as it ended, all the other lights
Took up the strain, and echoed Mary's name.
     The robe, that with its regal folds enwraps
The world, and with the nearer breath of God
Doth burn and quiver, held so far retir'd
Its inner hem and skirting over us,
That yet no glimmer of its majesty
Had stream'd unto me: therefore were mine eyes
Unequal to pursue the crowned flame,
That rose and sought its natal seed of fire;
And like to babe, that stretches forth its arms
For very eagerness towards the breast,
After the milk is taken; so outstretch'd
Their wavy summits all the fervent band,
Through zealous love to Mary: then in view
There halted, and "Regina Coeli " sang
So sweetly, the delight hath left me never.
     O what o'erflowing plenty is up-pil'd
In those rich-laden coffers, which below
Sow'd the good seed, whose harvest now they keep.
     Here are the treasures tasted, that with tears
Were in the Babylonian exile won,
When gold had fail'd them.  Here in synod high
Of ancient council with the new conven'd,
Under the Son of Mary and of God,
Victorious he his mighty triumph holds,
To whom the keys of glory were assign'd.
"O ye!  in chosen fellowship advanc'd
To the great supper of the blessed Lamb,
Whereon who feeds hath every wish fulfill'd!
If to this man through God's grace be vouchsaf'd
Foretaste of that, which from your table falls,
Or ever death his fated term prescribe;
Be ye not heedless of his urgent will;
But may some influence of your sacred dews
Sprinkle him.  Of the fount ye alway drink,
Whence flows what most he craves."  Beatrice spake,
And the rejoicing spirits, like to spheres
On firm-set poles revolving, trail'd a blaze
Of comet splendour; and as wheels, that wind
Their circles in the horologe, so work
The stated rounds, that to th' observant eye
The first seems still, and, as it flew, the last;
E'en thus their carols weaving variously,
They by the measure pac'd, or swift, or slow,
Made me to rate the riches of their joy.
     From that, which I did note in beauty most
Excelling, saw I issue forth a flame
So bright, as none was left more goodly there.
Round Beatrice thrice it wheel'd about,
With so divine a song, that fancy's ear
Records it not; and the pen passeth on
And leaves a blank: for that our mortal speech,
Nor e'en the inward shaping of the brain,
Hath colours fine enough to trace such folds.
     "O saintly sister mine!  thy prayer devout
Is with so vehement affection urg'd,
Thou dost unbind me from that beauteous sphere."
     Such were the accents towards my lady breath'd
From that blest ardour, soon as it was stay'd:
To whom she thus:  "O everlasting light
Of him, within whose mighty grasp our Lord
Did leave the keys, which of this wondrous bliss
He bare below!  tent this man, as thou wilt,
With lighter probe or deep, touching the faith,
By the which thou didst on the billows walk.
If he in love, in hope, and in belief,
Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou
Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld
In liveliest portraiture.  But since true faith
Has peopled this fair realm with citizens,
Meet is, that to exalt its glory more,
Thou in his audience shouldst thereof discourse."
     Like to the bachelor, who arms himself,
And speaks not, till the master have propos'd
The question, to approve, and not to end it;
So I, in silence, arm'd me, while she spake,
Summoning up each argument to aid;
As was behooveful for such questioner,
And such profession:  "As good Christian ought,
Declare thee, What is faith?"  Whereat I rais'd
My forehead to the light, whence this had breath'd,
Then turn'd to Beatrice, and in her looks
Approval met, that from their inmost fount
I should unlock the waters.  "May the grace,
That giveth me the captain of the church
For confessor," said I, "vouchsafe to me
Apt utterance for my thoughts!" then added:  "Sire!
E'en as set down by the unerring style
Of thy dear brother, who with thee conspir'd
To bring Rome in unto the way of life,
Faith of things hop'd is substance, and the proof
Of things not seen; and herein doth consist
Methinks its essence,"--" Rightly hast thou deem'd,"
Was answer'd:  "if thou well discern, why first
He hath defin'd it, substance, and then proof."
     "The deep things," I replied, "which here I scan
Distinctly, are below from mortal eye
So hidden, they have in belief alone
Their being, on which credence hope sublime
Is built; and therefore substance it intends.
And inasmuch as we must needs infer
From such belief our reasoning, all respect
To other view excluded, hence of proof
Th' intention is deriv'd."  Forthwith I heard:
"If thus, whate'er by learning men attain,
Were understood, the sophist would want room
To exercise his wit."  So breath'd the flame
Of love: then added:  "Current is the coin
Thou utter'st, both in weight and in alloy.
But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse."
     "Even so glittering and so round," said I,
"I not a whit misdoubt of its assay."
     Next issued from the deep imbosom'd splendour:
"Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which
Is founded every virtue, came to thee."
"The flood," I answer'd, "from the Spirit of God
Rain'd down upon the ancient bond and new,--
Here is the reas'ning, that convinceth me
So feelingly, each argument beside
Seems blunt and forceless in comparison."
Then heard I:  "Wherefore holdest thou that each,
The elder proposition and the new,
Which so persuade thee, are the voice of heav'n?"
     "The works, that follow'd, evidence their truth; "
I answer'd:  "Nature did not make for these
The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them."
"Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves,
Was the reply, "that they in very deed
Are that they purport?  None hath sworn so to thee."
     "That all the world," said I, "should have bee turn'd
To Christian, and no miracle been wrought,
Would in itself be such a miracle,
The rest were not an hundredth part so great.
E'en thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger
To set the goodly plant, that from the vine,
It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble."
That ended, through the high celestial court
Resounded all the spheres.  "Praise we one God!"
In song of most unearthly melody.
And when that Worthy thus, from branch to branch,
Examining, had led me, that we now
Approach'd the topmost bough, he straight resum'd;
"The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul,
So far discreetly hath thy lips unclos'd
That, whatsoe'er has past them, I commend.
Behooves thee to express, what thou believ'st,
The next, and whereon thy belief hath grown."
     "O saintly sire and spirit!"  I began,
"Who seest that, which thou didst so believe,
As to outstrip feet younger than thine own,
Toward the sepulchre?  thy will is here,
That I the tenour of my creed unfold;
And thou the cause of it hast likewise ask'd.
And I reply: I in one God believe,
One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love
All heav'n is mov'd, himself unmov'd the while.
Nor demonstration physical alone,
Or more intelligential and abstruse,
Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth
It cometh to me rather, which is shed
Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms.
The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write,
When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost.
In three eternal Persons I believe,
Essence threefold and one, mysterious league
Of union absolute, which, many a time,
The word of gospel lore upon my mind
Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark,
The lively flame dilates, and like heav'n's star
Doth glitter in me.''  As the master hears,
Well pleas'd, and then enfoldeth in his arms
The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought,
And having told the errand keeps his peace;
Thus benediction uttering with song
Soon as my peace I held, compass'd me thrice
The apostolic radiance, whose behest
Had op'd lips; so well their answer pleas'd.
If e'er the sacred poem that hath made
Both heav'n and earth copartners in its toil,
And with lean abstinence, through many a year,
Faded my brow, be destin'd to prevail
Over the cruelty, which bars me forth
Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb
The wolves set on and fain had worried me,
With other voice and fleece of other grain
I shall forthwith return, and, standing up
At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath
Due to the poet's temples: for I there
First enter'd on the faith which maketh souls
Acceptable to God: and, for its sake,
Peter had then circled my forehead thus.
     Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth
The first fruit of Christ's vicars on the earth,
Toward us mov'd a light, at view whereof
My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me:
"Lo!  lo!  behold the peer of mickle might,
That makes Falicia throng'd with visitants!"
     As when the ring-dove by his mate alights,
In circles each about the other wheels,
And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I
One, of the other great and glorious prince,
With kindly greeting hail'd, extolling both
Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end
Was to their gratulation, silent, each,
Before me sat they down, so burning bright,
I could not look upon them.  Smiling then,
Beatrice spake:  "O life in glory shrin'd!"
Who didst the largess of our kingly court
Set down with faithful pen!  let now thy voice
Of hope the praises in this height resound.
For thou, who figur'st them in shapes, as clear,
As Jesus stood before thee, well can'st speak them."
     "Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust:
For that, which hither from the mortal world
Arriveth, must be ripen'd in our beam."
     Such cheering accents from the second flame
Assur'd me; and mine eyes I lifted up
Unto the mountains that had bow'd them late
With over-heavy burden.  "Sith our Liege
Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death,
In the most secret council, with his lords
Shouldst be confronted, so that having view'd
The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith
Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate
With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare,
What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee,
And whence thou hadst it?"  Thus proceeding still,
The second light: and she, whose gentle love
My soaring pennons in that lofty flight
Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin'd:
Among her sons, not one more full of hope,
Hath the church militant: so 't is of him
Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb
Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term
Of warfare, hence permitted he is come,
From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see.
The other points, both which thou hast inquir'd,
Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell
How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him
Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease,
And without boasting, so God give him grace."
Like to the scholar, practis'd in his task,
Who, willing to give proof of diligence,
Seconds his teacher gladly, "Hope," said I,
"Is of the joy to come a sure expectance,
Th' effect of grace divine and merit preceding.
This light from many a star visits my heart,
But flow'd to me the first from him, who sang
The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme
Among his tuneful brethren.  'Let all hope
In thee,' so speak his anthem, 'who have known
Thy name;' and with my faith who know not that?
From thee, the next, distilling from his spring,
In thine epistle, fell on me the drops
So plenteously, that I on others shower
The influence of their dew."  Whileas I spake,
A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning,
Within the bosom of that mighty sheen,
Play'd tremulous; then forth these accents breath'd:
"Love for the virtue which attended me
E'en to the palm, and issuing from the field,
Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires
To ask of thee, whom also it delights;
What promise thou from hope in chief dost win."
     "Both scriptures, new and ancient," I reply'd;
"Propose the mark (which even now I view)
For souls belov'd of God. Isaias saith,
     That, in their own land, each one must be clad
In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life.
In terms more full,
And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth
This revelation to us, where he tells
Of the white raiment destin'd to the saints."
And, as the words were ending, from above,
"They hope in thee," first heard we cried: whereto
Answer'd the carols all.  Amidst them next,
A light of so clear amplitude emerg'd,
That winter's month were but a single day,
Were such a crystal in the Cancer's sign.
     Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes,
And enters on the mazes of the dance,
Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent,
Than to do fitting honour to the bride;
So I beheld the new effulgence come
Unto the other two, who in a ring
Wheel'd, as became their rapture.  In the dance
And in the song it mingled.  And the dame
Held on them fix'd her looks: e'en as the spouse
Silent and moveless.  "This is he, who lay
Upon the bosom of our pelican:
This he, into whose keeping from the cross
The mighty charge was given."  Thus she spake,
Yet therefore naught the more remov'd her Sight
From marking them, or ere her words began,
Or when they clos'd.  As he, who looks intent,
And strives with searching ken, how he may see
The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire
Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I
Peer'd on that last resplendence, while I heard:
"Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that,
Which here abides not?  Earth my body is,
In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long,
As till our number equal the decree
Of the Most High.  The two that have ascended,
In this our blessed cloister, shine alone
With the two garments.  So report below."
     As when, for ease of labour, or to shun
Suspected peril at a whistle's breath,
The oars, erewhile dash'd frequent in the wave,
All rest; the flamy circle at that voice
So rested, and the mingling sound was still,
Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose.
I turn'd, but ah!  how trembled in my thought,
When, looking at my side again to see
Beatrice, I descried her not, although
Not distant, on the happy coast she stood.
With dazzled eyes, whilst wond'ring I remain'd,
Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me,
Issued a breath, that in attention mute
Detain'd me; and these words it spake:  "'T were well,
That, long as till thy vision, on my form
O'erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse
Thou compensate the brief delay.  Say then,
Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:
And meanwhile rest assur'd, that sight in thee
Is but o'erpowered a space, not wholly quench'd:
Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look
Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt
In Ananias' hand.'' I answering thus:
"Be to mine eyes the remedy or late
Or early, at her pleasure; for they were
The gates, at which she enter'd, and did light
Her never dying fire.  My wishes here
Are centered; in this palace is the weal,
That Alpha and Omega, is to all
The lessons love can read me."  Yet again
The voice which had dispers'd my fear, when daz'd
With that excess, to converse urg'd, and spake:
"Behooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms,
And say, who level'd at this scope thy bow."
     "Philosophy," said I, ''hath arguments,
And this place hath authority enough
'T' imprint in me such love: for, of constraint,
Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good,
Kindles our love, and in degree the more,
As it comprises more of goodness in 't.
The essence then, where such advantage is,
That each good, found without it, is naught else
But of his light the beam, must needs attract
The soul of each one, loving, who the truth
Discerns, on which this proof is built.  Such truth
Learn I from him, who shows me the first love
Of all intelligential substances
Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word
Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith,
'I will make all my good before thee pass.'
Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim'st,
E'en at the outset of thy heralding,
In mortal ears the mystery of heav'n."
     "Through human wisdom, and th' authority
Therewith agreeing," heard I answer'd, "keep
The choicest of thy love for God.  But say,
If thou yet other cords within thee feel'st
That draw thee towards him; so that thou report
How many are the fangs, with which this love
Is grappled to thy soul."  I did not miss,
To what intent the eagle of our Lord
Had pointed his demand; yea noted well
Th' avowal, which he led to; and resum'd:
"All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God,
Confederate to make fast our clarity.
The being of the world, and mine own being,
The death which he endur'd that I should live,
And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do,
To the foremention'd lively knowledge join'd,
Have from the sea of ill love sav'd my bark,
And on the coast secur'd it of the right.
As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom,
My love for them is great, as is the good
Dealt by th' eternal hand, that tends them all."
     I ended, and therewith a song most sweet
Rang through the spheres; and "Holy, holy, holy,"
Accordant with the rest my lady sang.
And as a sleep is broken and dispers'd
Through sharp encounter of the nimble light,
With the eye's spirit running forth to meet
The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg'd;
And the upstartled wight loathes that be sees;
So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems
Of all around him, till assurance waits
On better judgment: thus the saintly came
Drove from before mine eyes the motes away,
With the resplendence of her own, that cast
Their brightness downward, thousand miles below.
Whence I my vision, clearer shall before,
Recover'd; and, well nigh astounded, ask'd
Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw.
     And Beatrice:  "The first diving soul,
That ever the first virtue fram'd, admires
Within these rays his Maker."  Like the leaf,
That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown;
By its own virtue rear'd then stands aloof;
So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow'd.
Then eagerness to speak embolden'd me;
And I began: "O fruit!  that wast alone
Mature, when first engender'd!  Ancient father!
That doubly seest in every wedded bride
Thy daughter by affinity and blood!
Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold
Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I,
More speedily to hear thee, tell it not "
     It chanceth oft some animal bewrays,
Through the sleek cov'ring of his furry coat.
The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms
His outside seeming to the cheer within:
And in like guise was Adam's spirit mov'd
To joyous mood, that through the covering shone,
Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake:
"No need thy will be told, which I untold
Better discern, than thou whatever thing
Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see
In Him, who is truth's mirror, and Himself
Parhelion unto all things, and naught else
To him.  This wouldst thou hear; how long since God
Plac'd me high garden, from whose hounds
She led me up in this ladder, steep and long;
What space endur'd my season of delight;
Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish'd me;
And what the language, which I spake and fram'd
Not that I tasted of the tree, my son,
Was in itself the cause of that exile,
But only my transgressing of the mark
Assign'd me.  There, whence at thy lady's hest
The Mantuan mov'd him, still was I debarr'd
This council, till the sun had made complete,
Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice,
His annual journey; and, through every light
In his broad pathway, saw I him return,
Thousand save sev'nty times, the whilst I dwelt
Upon the earth.  The language I did use
Was worn away, or ever Nimrod's race
Their unaccomplishable work began.
For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting,
Left by his reason free, and variable,
As is the sky that sways him.  That he speaks,
Is nature's prompting: whether thus or thus,
She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.
Ere I descended into hell's abyss,
El was the name on earth of the Chief Good,
Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then 't was call'd
And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use
Is as the leaf upon the bough; that goes,
And other comes instead.  Upon the mount
Most high above the waters, all my life,
Both innocent and guilty, did but reach
From the first hour, to that which cometh next
(As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth.
Then  "Glory to the Father, to the Son,
And to the Holy Spirit," rang aloud
Throughout all Paradise, that with the song
My spirit reel'd, so passing sweet the strain:
And what I saw was equal ecstasy;
One universal smile it seem'd of all things,
Joy past compare, gladness unutterable,
Imperishable life of peace and love,
Exhaustless riches and unmeasur'd bliss.
     Before mine eyes stood the four torches lit;
And that, which first had come, began to wax
In brightness, and in semblance such became,
As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds,
And interchang'd their plumes.  Silence ensued,
Through the blest quire, by Him, who here appoints
Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin'd;
When thus I heard: "Wonder not, if my hue
Be chang'd; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see
All in like manner change with me.  My place
He who usurps on earth (my place, ay, mine,
Which in the presence of the Son of God
Is void), the same hath made my cemetery
A common sewer of puddle and of blood:
The more below his triumph, who from hence
Malignant fell."  Such colour, as the sun,
At eve or morning, paints and adverse cloud,
Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky.
And as th' unblemish'd dame, who in herself
Secure of censure, yet at bare report
Of other's failing, shrinks with maiden fear;
So Beatrice in her semblance chang'd:
And such eclipse in heav'n methinks was seen,
When the Most Holy suffer'd.  Then the words
Proceeded, with voice, alter'd from itself
So clean, the semblance did not alter more.
"Not to this end was Christ's spouse with my blood,
With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed:
That she might serve for purchase of base gold:
But for the purchase of this happy life
Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed,
And Urban, they, whose doom was not without
Much weeping seal'd.  No purpose was of our
That on the right hand of our successors
Part of the Christian people should be set,
And part upon their left; nor that the keys,
Which were vouchsaf'd me, should for ensign serve
Unto the banners, that do levy war
On the baptiz'd: nor I, for sigil-mark
Set upon sold and lying privileges;
Which makes me oft to bicker and turn red.
In shepherd's clothing greedy wolves below
Range wide o'er all the pastures.  Arm of God!
Why longer sleepst thou?  Caorsines and Gascona
Prepare to quaff our blood.  O good beginning
To what a vile conclusion must thou stoop!
But the high providence, which did defend
Through Scipio the world's glory unto Rome,
Will not delay its succour: and thou, son,
Who through thy mortal weight shall yet again
Return below, open thy lips, nor hide
What is by me not hidden."  As a Hood
Of frozen vapours streams adown the air,
What time the she-goat with her skiey horn
Touches the sun; so saw I there stream wide
The vapours, who with us had linger'd late
And with glad triumph deck th' ethereal cope.
Onward my sight their semblances pursued;
So far pursued, as till the space between
From its reach sever'd them: whereat the guide
Celestial, marking me no more intent
On upward gazing, said, "Look down and see
What circuit thou hast compass'd."  From the hour
When I before had cast my view beneath,
All the first region overpast I saw,
Which from the midmost to the bound'ry winds;
That onward thence from Gades I beheld
The unwise passage of Laertes' son,
And hitherward the shore, where thou, Europa!
Mad'st thee a joyful burden: and yet more
Of this dim spot had seen, but that the sun,
A constellation off and more, had ta'en
His progress in the zodiac underneath.
     Then by the spirit, that doth never leave
Its amorous dalliance with my lady's looks,
Back with redoubled ardour were mine eyes
Led unto her: and from her radiant smiles,
Whenas I turn'd me, pleasure so divine
Did lighten on me, that whatever bait
Or art or nature in the human flesh,
Or in its limn'd resemblance, can combine
Through greedy eyes to take the soul withal,
Were to her beauty nothing.  Its boon influence
From the fair nest of Leda rapt me forth,
And wafted on into the swiftest heav'n.
     What place for entrance Beatrice chose,
I may not say, so uniform was all,
Liveliest and loftiest.  She my secret wish
Divin'd; and with such gladness, that God's love
Seem'd from her visage shining, thus began:
"Here is the goal, whence motion on his race
Starts; motionless the centre, and the rest
All mov'd around.  Except the soul divine,
Place in this heav'n is none, the soul divine,
Wherein the love, which ruleth o'er its orb,
Is kindled, and the virtue that it sheds;
One circle, light and love, enclasping it,
As this doth clasp the others; and to Him,
Who draws the bound, its limit only known.
Measur'd itself by none, it doth divide
Motion to all, counted unto them forth,
As by the fifth or half ye count forth ten.
The vase, wherein time's roots are plung'd, thou seest,
Look elsewhere for the leaves.  O mortal lust!
That canst not lift thy head above the waves
Which whelm and sink thee down!  The will in man
Bears goodly blossoms; but its ruddy promise
Is, by the dripping of perpetual rain,
Made mere abortion: faith and innocence
Are met with but in babes, each taking leave
Ere cheeks with down are sprinkled; he, that fasts,
While yet a stammerer, with his tongue let loose
Gluts every food alike in every moon.
One yet a babbler, loves and listens to
His mother; but no sooner hath free use
Of speech, than he doth wish her in her grave.
So suddenly doth the fair child of him,
Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting,
To negro blackness change her virgin white.
     "Thou, to abate thy wonder, note that none
Bears rule in earth, and its frail family
Are therefore wand'rers.  Yet before the date,
When through the hundredth in his reck'ning drops
Pale January must be shor'd aside
From winter's calendar, these heav'nly spheres
Shall roar so loud, that fortune shall be fain
To turn the poop, where she hath now the prow;
So that the fleet run onward; and true fruit,
Expected long, shall crown at last the bloom!"
CANTO XXVIII
So she who doth imparadise my soul,
Had drawn the veil from off our pleasant life,
And bar'd the truth of poor mortality;
When lo!  as one who, in a mirror, spies
The shining of a flambeau at his back,
Lit sudden ore he deem of its approach,
And turneth to resolve him, if the glass
Have told him true, and sees the record faithful
As note is to its metre; even thus,
I well remember, did befall to me,
Looking upon the beauteous eyes, whence love
Had made the leash to take me.  As I turn'd;
And that, which, in their circles, none who spies,
Can miss of, in itself apparent, struck
On mine; a point I saw, that darted light
So sharp, no lid, unclosing, may bear up
Against its keenness.  The least star we view
From hence, had seem'd a moon, set by its side,
As star by side of star.  And so far off,
Perchance, as is the halo from the light
Which paints it, when most dense the vapour spreads,
There wheel'd about the point a circle of fire,
More rapid than the motion, which first girds
The world.  Then, circle after circle, round
Enring'd each other; till the seventh reach'd
Circumference so ample, that its bow,
Within the span of Juno's messenger,
lied scarce been held entire. Beyond the sev'nth,
Follow'd yet other two.  And every one,
As more in number distant from the first,
Was tardier in motion; and that glow'd
With flame most pure, that to the sparkle' of truth
Was nearest, as partaking most, methinks,
Of its reality.  The guide belov'd
Saw me in anxious thought suspense, and spake:
"Heav'n, and all nature, hangs upon that point.
The circle thereto most conjoin'd observe;
And know, that by intenser love its course
Is to this swiftness wing'd. "To whom I thus:
"It were enough; nor should I further seek,
Had I but witness'd order, in the world
Appointed, such as in these wheels is seen.
But in the sensible world such diff'rence is,
That is each round shows more divinity,
As each is wider from the centre.  Hence,
If in this wondrous and angelic temple,
That hath for confine only light and love,
My wish may have completion I must know,
Wherefore such disagreement is between
Th' exemplar and its copy: for myself,
Contemplating, I fail to pierce the cause."
     "It is no marvel, if thy fingers foil'd
Do leave the knot untied: so hard 't is grown
For want of tenting."  Thus she said:  "But take,"
She added, "if thou wish thy cure, my words,
And entertain them subtly.  Every orb
Corporeal, doth proportion its extent
Unto the virtue through its parts diffus'd.
The greater blessedness preserves the more.
The greater is the body (if all parts
Share equally) the more is to preserve.
Therefore the circle, whose swift course enwheels
The universal frame answers to that,
Which is supreme in knowledge and in love
Thus by the virtue, not the seeming, breadth
Of substance, measure, thou shalt see the heav'ns,
Each to the' intelligence that ruleth it,
Greater to more, and smaller unto less,
Suited in strict and wondrous harmony."
     As when the sturdy north blows from his cheek
A blast, that scours the sky, forthwith our air,
Clear'd of the rack, that hung on it before,
Glitters; and, With his beauties all unveil'd,
The firmament looks forth serene, and smiles;
Such was my cheer, when Beatrice drove
With clear reply the shadows back, and truth
Was manifested, as a star in heaven.
And when the words were ended, not unlike
To iron in the furnace, every cirque
Ebullient shot forth scintillating fires:
And every sparkle shivering to new blaze,
In number did outmillion the account
Reduplicate upon the chequer'd board.
Then heard I echoing on from choir to choir,
"Hosanna," to the fixed point, that holds,
And shall for ever hold them to their place,
From everlasting, irremovable.
     Musing awhile I stood: and she, who saw
by inward meditations, thus began:
"In the first circles, they, whom thou beheldst,
Are seraphim and cherubim.  Thus swift
Follow their hoops, in likeness to the point,
Near as they can, approaching; and they can
The more, the loftier their vision.  Those,
That round them fleet, gazing the Godhead next,
Are thrones; in whom the first trine ends.  And all
Are blessed, even as their sight descends
Deeper into the truth, wherein rest is
For every mind.  Thus happiness hath root
In seeing, not in  loving, which of sight
Is aftergrowth.  And of the seeing such
The meed, as unto each in due degree
Grace and good-will their measure have assign'd.
The other trine, that with still opening buds
In this eternal springtide blossom fair,
Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram,
Breathe up in warbled melodies threefold
Hosannas blending ever, from the three
Transmitted. hierarchy of gods, for aye
Rejoicing, dominations first, next then
Virtues, and powers the third.  The next to whom
Are princedoms and archangels, with glad round
To tread their festal ring; and last the band
Angelical, disporting in their sphere.
All, as they circle in their orders, look
Aloft, and downward with such sway prevail,
That all with mutual impulse tend to God.
These once a mortal view beheld.  Desire
In Dionysius so intently wrought,
That he, as I have done rang'd them; and nam'd
Their orders, marshal'd in his thought.  From him
Dissentient, one refus'd his sacred read.
But soon as in this heav'n his doubting eyes
Were open'd, Gregory at his error smil'd
Nor marvel, that a denizen of earth
Should scan such secret truth; for he had learnt
Both this and much beside of these our orbs,
From an eye-witness to heav'n's mysteries."
No longer than what time Latona's twins
Cover'd of Libra and the fleecy star,
Together both, girding the' horizon hang,
In even balance from the zenith pois'd,
Till from that verge, each, changing hemisphere,
Part the nice level; e'en so brief a space
Did Beatrice's silence hold.  A smile
Bat painted on her cheek; and her fix'd gaze
Bent on the point, at which my vision fail'd:
When thus her words resuming she began:
"I speak, nor what thou wouldst inquire demand;
For I have mark'd it, where all time and place
Are present.  Not for increase to himself
Of good, which may not be increas'd, but forth
To manifest his glory by its beams,
Inhabiting his own eternity,
Beyond time's limit or what bound soe'er
To circumscribe his being, as he will'd,
Into new natures, like unto himself,
Eternal Love unfolded.  Nor before,
As if in dull inaction torpid lay.
For not in process of before or aft
Upon these waters mov'd the Spirit of God.
Simple and mix'd, both form and substance, forth
To perfect being started, like three darts
Shot from a bow three-corded.  And as ray
In crystal, glass, and amber, shines entire,
E'en at the moment of its issuing; thus
Did, from th' eternal Sovran, beam entire
His threefold operation, at one act
Produc'd coeval.  Yet in order each
Created his due station knew: those highest,
Who pure intelligence were made: mere power
The lowest: in the midst, bound with strict league,
Intelligence and power, unsever'd bond.
Long tract of ages by the angels past,
Ere the creating of another world,
Describ'd on Jerome's pages thou hast seen.
But that what I disclose to thee is true,
Those penmen, whom the Holy Spirit mov'd
In many a passage of their sacred book
Attest; as thou by diligent search shalt find
And reason in some sort discerns the same,
Who scarce would grant the heav'nly ministers
Of their perfection void, so long a space.
Thus when and where these spirits of love were made,
Thou know'st, and how: and knowing hast allay'd
Thy thirst, which from the triple question rose.
Ere one had reckon'd twenty, e'en so soon
Part of the angels fell: and in their fall
Confusion to your elements ensued.
The others kept their station: and this task,
Whereon thou lookst, began with such delight,
That they surcease not ever, day nor night,
Their circling.  Of that fatal lapse the cause
Was the curst pride of him, whom thou hast seen
Pent with the world's incumbrance.  Those, whom here
Thou seest, were lowly to confess themselves
Of his free bounty, who had made them apt
For ministries so high: therefore their views
Were by enlight'ning grace and their own merit
Exalted; so that in their will confirm'd
They stand, nor feel to fall.  For do not doubt,
But to receive the grace, which heav'n vouchsafes,
Is meritorious, even as the soul
With prompt affection welcometh the guest.
Now, without further help, if with good heed
My words thy mind have treasur'd, thou henceforth
This consistory round about mayst scan,
And gaze thy fill.  But since thou hast on earth
Heard vain disputers, reasoners in the schools,
Canvas the' angelic nature, and dispute
Its powers of apprehension, memory, choice;
Therefore, 't is well thou take from me the truth,
Pure and without disguise, which they below,
Equivocating, darken and perplex.
     "Know thou, that, from the first, these substances,
Rejoicing in the countenance of God,
Have held unceasingly their view, intent
Upon the glorious vision, from the which
Naught absent is nor hid: where then no change
Of newness with succession interrupts,
Remembrance there needs none to gather up
Divided thought and images remote
     "So that men, thus at variance with the truth
Dream, though their eyes be open; reckless some
Of error; others well aware they err,
To whom more guilt and shame are justly due.
Each the known track of sage philosophy
Deserts, and has a byway of his own:
So much the restless eagerness to shine
And love of singularity prevail.
Yet this, offensive as it is, provokes
Heav'n's anger less, than when the book of God
Is forc'd to yield to man's authority,
Or from its straightness warp'd: no reck'ning made
What blood the sowing of it in the world
Has cost; what favour for himself he wins,
Who meekly clings to it.  The aim of all
Is how to shine: e'en they, whose office is
To preach the Gospel, let the gospel sleep,
And pass their own inventions off instead.
One tells, how at Christ's suffering the wan moon
Bent back her steps, and shadow'd o'er the sun
With intervenient disk, as she withdrew:
Another, how the light shrouded itself
Within its tabernacle, and left dark
The Spaniard and the Indian, with the Jew.
Such fables Florence in her pulpit hears,
Bandied about more frequent, than the names
Of Bindi and of Lapi in her streets.
The sheep, meanwhile, poor witless ones, return
From pasture, fed with wind: and what avails
For their excuse, they do not see their harm?
Christ said not to his first conventicle,
'Go forth and preach impostures to the world,'
But gave them truth to build on; and the sound
Was mighty on their lips; nor needed they,
Beside the gospel, other spear or shield,
To aid them in their warfare for the faith.
The preacher now provides himself with store
Of jests and gibes; and, so there be no lack
Of laughter, while he vents them, his big cowl
Distends, and he has won the meed he sought:
Could but the vulgar catch a glimpse the while
Of that dark bird which nestles in his hood,
They scarce would wait to hear the blessing said.
Which now the dotards hold in such esteem,
That every counterfeit, who spreads abroad
The hands of holy promise, finds a throng
Of credulous fools beneath.  Saint Anthony
Fattens with this his swine, and others worse
Than swine, who diet at his lazy board,
Paying with unstamp'd metal for their fare.
     "But (for we far have wander'd) let us seek
The forward path again; so as the way
Be shorten'd with the time.  No mortal tongue
Nor thought of man hath ever reach'd so far,
That of these natures he might count the tribes.
What Daniel of their thousands hath reveal'd
With finite number infinite conceals.
The fountain at whose source these drink their beams,
With light supplies them in as many modes,
As there are splendours, that it shines on: each
According to the virtue it conceives,
Differing in love and sweet affection.
Look then how lofty and how huge in breadth
The' eternal might, which, broken and dispers'd
Over such countless mirrors, yet remains
Whole in itself and one, as at the first."
Noon's fervid hour perchance six thousand miles
From hence is distant; and the shadowy cone
Almost to level on our earth declines;
When from the midmost of this blue abyss
By turns some star is to our vision lost.
And straightway as the handmaid of the sun
Puts forth her radiant brow, all, light by light,
Fade, and the spangled firmament shuts in,
E'en to the loveliest of the glittering throng.
Thus vanish'd gradually from my sight
The triumph, which plays ever round the point,
That overcame me, seeming (for it did)
Engirt by that it girdeth.  Wherefore love,
With loss of other object, forc'd me bend
Mine eyes on Beatrice once again.
     If all, that hitherto is told of her,
Were in one praise concluded, 't were too weak
To furnish out this turn.  Mine eyes did look
On beauty, such, as I believe in sooth,
Not merely to exceed our human, but,
That save its Maker, none can to the full
Enjoy it.  At this point o'erpower'd I fail,
Unequal to my theme, as never bard
Of buskin or of sock hath fail'd before.
For, as the sun doth to the feeblest sight,
E'en so remembrance of that witching smile
Hath dispossess my spirit of itself.
Not from that day, when on this earth I first
Beheld her charms, up to that view of them,
Have I with song applausive ever ceas'd
To follow, but not follow them no more;
My course here bounded, as each artist's is,
When it doth touch the limit of his skill.
     She (such as I bequeath her to the bruit
Of louder trump than mine, which hasteneth on,
Urging its arduous matter to the close),
Her words resum'd, in gesture and in voice
Resembling one accustom'd to command:
"Forth from the last corporeal are we come
Into the heav'n, that is unbodied light,
Light intellectual replete with love,
Love of true happiness replete with joy,
Joy, that transcends all sweetness of delight.
Here shalt thou look on either mighty host
Of Paradise; and one in that array,
Which in the final judgment thou shalt see."
     As when the lightning, in a sudden spleen
Unfolded, dashes from the blinding eyes
The visive spirits dazzled and bedimm'd;
So, round about me, fulminating streams
Of living radiance play'd, and left me swath'd
And veil'd in dense impenetrable blaze.
Such weal is in the love, that stills this heav'n;
For its own flame the torch this fitting ever!
     No sooner to my list'ning ear had come
The brief assurance, than I understood
New virtue into me infus'd, and sight
Kindled afresh, with vigour to sustain
Excess of light, however pure.  I look'd;
And in the likeness of a river saw
Light flowing, from whose amber-seeming waves
Flash'd up effulgence, as they glided on
'Twixt banks, on either side, painted with spring,
Incredible how fair; and, from the tide,
There ever and anon, outstarting, flew
Sparkles instinct with life; and in the flow'rs
Did set them, like to rubies chas'd in gold;
Then, as if drunk with odors, plung'd again
Into the wondrous flood; from which, as one
Re'enter'd, still another rose.  "The thirst
Of knowledge high, whereby thou art inflam'd,
To search the meaning of what here thou seest,
The more it warms thee, pleases me the more.
But first behooves thee of this water drink,
Or ere that longing be allay'd."  So spake
The day-star of mine eyes; then thus subjoin'd:
"This stream, and these, forth issuing from its gulf,
And diving back, a living topaz each,
With all this laughter on its bloomy shores,
Are but a preface, shadowy of the truth
They emblem: not that, in themselves, the things
Are crude; but on thy part is the defect,
For that thy views not yet aspire so high."
Never did babe, that had outslept his wont,
Rush, with such eager straining, to the milk,
As I toward the water, bending me,
To make the better mirrors of mine eyes
In the refining wave; and, as the eaves
Of mine eyelids did drink of it, forthwith
Seem'd it unto me turn'd from length to round,
Then as a troop of maskers, when they put
Their vizors off, look other than before,
The counterfeited semblance thrown aside;
So into greater jubilee were chang'd
Those flowers and sparkles, and distinct I saw
Before me either court of heav'n displac'd.
     O prime enlightener!  thou who crav'st me strength
On the high triumph of thy realm to gaze!
Grant virtue now to utter what I kenn'd,
    There is in heav'n a light, whose goodly shine
Makes the Creator visible to all
Created, that in seeing him alone
Have peace; and in a circle spreads so far,
That the circumference were too loose a zone
To girdle in the sun.  All is one beam,
Reflected from the summit of the first,
That moves, which being hence and vigour takes,
And as some cliff, that from the bottom eyes
Its image mirror'd in the crystal flood,
As if 't admire its brave appareling
Of verdure and of flowers: so, round about,
Eyeing the light, on more than million thrones,
Stood, eminent, whatever from our earth
Has to the skies return'd.  How wide the leaves
Extended to their utmost of this rose,
Whose lowest step embosoms such a space
Of ample radiance!  Yet, nor amplitude
Nor height impeded, but my view with ease
Took in the full dimensions of that joy.
Near or remote, what there avails, where God
Immediate rules, and Nature, awed, suspends
Her sway?  Into the yellow of the rose
Perennial, which in bright expansiveness,
Lays forth its gradual blooming, redolent
Of praises to the never-wint'ring sun,
As one, who fain would speak yet holds his peace,
Beatrice led me; and, "Behold," she said,
"This fair assemblage!  stoles of snowy white
How numberless!  The city, where we dwell,
Behold how vast!  and these our seats so throng'd
Few now are wanting here!  In that proud stall,
On which, the crown, already o'er its state
Suspended, holds thine eyes--or ere thyself
Mayst at the wedding sup,--shall rest the soul
Of the great Harry, he who, by the world
Augustas hail'd, to Italy must come,
Before her day be ripe.  But ye are sick,
And in your tetchy wantonness as blind,
As is the bantling, that of hunger dies,
And drives away the nurse.  Nor may it be,
That he, who in the sacred forum sways,
Openly or in secret, shall with him
Accordant walk: Whom God will not endure
I' th' holy office long; but thrust him down
To Simon Magus, where Magna's priest
Will sink beneath him: such will be his meed."
In fashion, as a snow-white rose, lay then
Before my view the saintly multitude,
Which in his own blood Christ espous'd.  Meanwhile
That other host, that soar aloft to gaze
And celebrate his glory, whom they love,
Hover'd around; and, like a troop of bees,
Amid the vernal sweets alighting now,
Now, clustering, where their fragrant labour glows,
Flew downward to the mighty flow'r, or rose
From the redundant petals, streaming back
Unto the steadfast dwelling of their joy.
Faces had they of flame, and wings of gold;
The rest was whiter than the driven snow.
And as they flitted down into the flower,
From range to range, fanning their plumy loins,
Whisper'd the peace and ardour, which they won
From that soft winnowing.  Shadow none, the vast
Interposition of such numerous flight
Cast, from above, upon the flower, or view
Obstructed aught.  For, through the universe,
Wherever merited, celestial light
Glides freely, and no obstacle prevents.
     All there, who reign in safety and in bliss,
Ages long past or new, on one sole mark
Their love and vision fix'd.  O trinal beam
Of individual star, that charmst them thus,
Vouchsafe one glance to gild our storm below!
     If the grim brood, from Arctic shores that roam'd,
(Where helice, forever, as she wheels,
Sparkles a mother's fondness on her son)
Stood in mute wonder 'mid the works of Rome,
When to their view the Lateran arose
In greatness more than earthly; I, who then
From human to divine had past, from time
Unto eternity, and out of Florence
To justice and to truth, how might I choose
But marvel too?  'Twixt gladness and amaze,
In sooth no will had I to utter aught,
Or hear.  And, as a pilgrim, when he rests
Within the temple of his vow, looks round
In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell
Of all its goodly state: e'en so mine eyes
Cours'd up and down along the living light,
Now low, and now aloft, and now around,
Visiting every step.  Looks I beheld,
Where charity in soft persuasion sat,
Smiles from within and radiance from above,
And in each gesture grace and honour high.
     So rov'd my ken, and its general form
All Paradise survey'd:  when round I turn'd
With purpose of my lady to inquire
Once more of things, that held my thought suspense,
But answer found from other than I ween'd;
For, Beatrice, when I thought to see,
I saw instead a senior, at my side,
 Rob'd, as the rest, in glory.  Joy benign
Glow'd in his eye, and o'er his cheek diffus'd,
With gestures such as spake a father's love.
And, "Whither is she vanish'd?"  straight I ask'd.
     "By Beatrice summon'd," he replied,
"I come to aid thy wish.  Looking aloft
To the third circle from the highest, there
Behold her on the throne, wherein her merit
Hath plac'd her."  Answering not, mine eyes I rais'd,
And saw her, where aloof she sat, her brow
A wreath reflecting of eternal beams.
Not from the centre of the sea so far
Unto the region of the highest thunder,
As was my ken from hers; and yet the form
Came through that medium down, unmix'd and pure,
     "O Lady!  thou in whom my hopes have rest!
Who, for my safety, hast not scorn'd, in hell
To leave the traces of thy footsteps mark'd!
For all mine eyes have seen, I, to thy power
And goodness, virtue owe and grace.  Of slave,
Thou hast to freedom brought me; and no means,
For my deliverance apt, hast left untried.
Thy liberal bounty still toward me keep.
That, when my spirit, which thou madest whole,
Is loosen'd from this body, it may find
Favour with thee."  So I my suit preferr'd:
And she, so distant, as appear'd, look'd down,
And smil'd; then tow'rds th' eternal fountain turn'd.
     And thus the senior, holy and rever'd:
"That thou at length mayst happily conclude
Thy voyage (to which end I was dispatch'd,
By supplication mov'd and holy love)
Let thy upsoaring vision range, at large,
This garden through: for so, by ray divine
Kindled, thy ken a higher flight shall mount;
And from heav'n's queen, whom fervent I adore,
All gracious aid befriend us; for that I
Am her own faithful Bernard."  Like a wight,
Who haply from Croatia wends to see
Our Veronica, and the while 't is shown,
Hangs over it with never-sated gaze,
And, all that he hath heard revolving, saith
Unto himself in thought:  "And didst thou look
E'en thus, O Jesus, my true Lord and God?
And was this semblance thine?"  So gaz'd I then
Adoring; for the charity of him,
Who musing, in the world that peace enjoy'd,
Stood lively before me.  "Child of grace!"
Thus he began:  "thou shalt not knowledge gain
Of this glad being, if thine eyes are held
Still in this depth below.  But search around
The circles, to the furthest, till thou spy
Seated in state, the queen, that of this realm
Is sovran."  Straight mine eyes I rais'd; and bright,
As, at the birth of morn, the eastern clime
Above th' horizon, where the sun declines;
To mine eyes, that upward, as from vale
To mountain sped, at th' extreme bound, a part
Excell'd in lustre all the front oppos'd.
And as the glow burns ruddiest o'er the wave,
That waits the sloping beam, which Phaeton
Ill knew to guide, and on each part the light
Diminish'd fades, intensest in the midst;
So burn'd the peaceful oriflamb, and slack'd
On every side the living flame decay'd.
And in that midst their sportive pennons wav'd
Thousands of angels; in resplendence each
Distinct, and quaint adornment. At their glee
And carol, smil'd the Lovely One of heav'n,
That joy was in the eyes of all the blest.
     Had I a tongue in eloquence as rich,
As is the colouring in fancy's loom,
'T were all too poor to utter the least part
Of that enchantment.  When he saw mine eyes
Intent on her, that charm'd him, Bernard gaz'd
With so exceeding fondness, as infus'd
Ardour into my breast, unfelt before.
Freely the sage, though wrapt in musings high,
Assum'd the teacher's part, and mild began:
"The wound, that Mary clos'd, she open'd first,
Who sits so beautiful at Mary's feet.
The third in order, underneath her, lo!
Rachel with Beatrice. Sarah next,
Judith, Rebecca, and the gleaner maid,
Meek ancestress of him, who sang the songs
Of sore repentance in his sorrowful mood.
All, as I name them, down from deaf to leaf,
Are in gradation throned on the rose.
And from the seventh step, successively,
Adown the breathing tresses of the flow'r
Still doth the file of Hebrew dames proceed.
For these are a partition wall, whereby
The sacred stairs are sever'd, as the faith
In Christ divides them.  On this part, where blooms
Each leaf in full maturity, are set
Such as in Christ, or ere he came, believ'd.
On th' other, where an intersected space
Yet shows the semicircle void, abide
All they, who look'd to Christ already come.
And as our Lady on her glorious stool,
And they who on their stools beneath her sit,
This way distinction make: e'en so on his,
The mighty Baptist that way marks the line
(He who endur'd the desert and the pains
Of martyrdom, and for two years of hell,
Yet still continued holy), and beneath,
Augustin, Francis, Benedict, and the rest,
Thus far from round to round.  So heav'n's decree
Forecasts, this garden equally to fill.
With faith in either view, past or to come,
Learn too, that downward from the step, which cleaves
Midway the twain compartments, none there are
Who place obtain for merit of their own,
But have through others' merit been advanc'd,
On set conditions: spirits all releas'd,
Ere for themselves they had the power to choose.
And, if thou mark and listen to them well,
Their childish looks and voice declare as much.
     "Here, silent as thou art, I know thy doubt;
And gladly will I loose the knot, wherein
Thy subtle thoughts have bound thee.  From this realm
Excluded, chalice no entrance here may find,
No more shall hunger, thirst, or sorrow can.
A law immutable hath establish'd all;
Nor is there aught thou seest, that doth not fit,
Exactly, as the finger to the ring.
It is not therefore without cause, that these,
O'erspeedy comers to immortal life,
Are different in their shares of excellence.
Our Sovran Lord--that settleth this estate
In love and in delight so absolute,
That wish can dare no further--every soul,
Created in his joyous sight to dwell,
With grace at pleasure variously endows.
And for a proof th' effect may well suffice.
And 't is moreover most expressly mark'd
In holy scripture, where the twins are said
To, have struggled in the womb.  Therefore, as grace
Inweaves the coronet, so every brow
Weareth its proper hue of orient light.
And merely in respect to his prime gift,
Not in reward of meritorious deed,
Hath each his several degree assign'd.
In early times with their own innocence
More was not wanting, than the parents' faith,
To save them: those first ages past, behoov'd
That circumcision in the males should imp
The flight of innocent wings:  but since the day
Of grace hath come, without baptismal rites
In Christ accomplish'd, innocence herself
Must linger yet below.  Now raise thy view
Unto the visage most resembling Christ:
For, in her splendour only, shalt thou win
The pow'r to look on him."  Forthwith I saw
Such floods of gladness on her visage shower'd,
From holy spirits, winging that profound;
That, whatsoever I had yet beheld,
Had not so much suspended me with wonder,
Or shown me such similitude of God.
And he, who had to her descended, once,
On earth, now hail'd in heav'n; and on pois'd wing.
"Ave, Maria, Gratia Plena," sang:
To whose sweet anthem all the blissful court,
From all parts answ'ring, rang: that holier joy
Brooded the deep serene.  "Father rever'd:
Who deign'st, for me, to quit the pleasant place,
Wherein thou sittest, by eternal lot!
Say, who that angel is, that with such glee
Beholds our queen, and so enamour'd glows
Of her high beauty, that all fire he seems."
So I again resorted to the lore
Of my wise teacher, he, whom Mary's charms
Embellish'd, as the sun the morning star;
Who thus in answer spake:  "In him are summ'd,
Whatever of buxomness and free delight
May be in Spirit, or in angel, met:
And so beseems:  for that he bare the palm
Down unto Mary, when the Son of God
Vouchsaf'd to clothe him in terrestrial weeds.
Now let thine eyes wait heedful on my words,
And note thou of this just and pious realm
The chiefest nobles.  Those, highest in bliss,
The twain, on each hand next our empress thron'd,
Are as it were two roots unto this rose.
He to the left, the parent, whose rash taste
Proves bitter to his seed; and, on the right,
That ancient father of the holy church,
Into whose keeping Christ did give the keys
Of this sweet flow'r: near whom behold the seer,
That, ere he died, saw all the grievous times
Of the fair bride, who with the lance and nails
Was won.  And, near unto the other, rests
The leader, under whom on manna fed
Th' ungrateful nation, fickle and perverse.
On th' other part, facing to Peter, lo!
Where Anna sits, so well content to look
On her lov'd daughter, that with moveless eye
She chants the loud hosanna:  while, oppos'd
To the first father of your mortal kind,
Is Lucia, at whose hest thy lady sped,
When on the edge of ruin clos'd thine eye.
     "But (for the vision hasteneth so an end)
Here break we off, as the good workman doth,
That shapes the cloak according to the cloth:
And to the primal love our ken shall rise;
That thou mayst penetrate the brightness, far
As sight can bear thee.  Yet, alas!  in sooth
Beating thy pennons, thinking to advance,
Thou backward fall'st.  Grace then must first be gain'd;
Her grace, whose might can help thee. Thou in prayer
Seek her: and, with affection, whilst I sue,
Attend, and yield me all thy heart."  He said,
And thus the saintly orison began.
CANTO XXXIII
"O virgin mother, daughter of thy Son,
Created beings all in lowliness
Surpassing, as in height, above them all,
Term by th' eternal counsel pre-ordain'd,
Ennobler of thy nature, so advanc'd
In thee, that its great Maker did not scorn,
Himself, in his own work enclos'd to dwell!
For in thy womb rekindling shone the love
Reveal'd, whose genial influence makes now
This flower to germin in eternal peace!
Here thou to us, of charity and love,
Art, as the noon-day torch: and art, beneath,
To mortal men, of hope a living spring.
So mighty art thou, lady!  and so great,
That he who grace desireth, and comes not
To thee for aidance, fain would have desire
Fly without wings.  Nor only him who asks,
Thy bounty succours, but doth freely oft
Forerun the asking.  Whatsoe'er may be
Of excellence in creature, pity mild,
Relenting mercy, large munificence,
Are all combin'd in thee.  Here kneeleth one,
Who of all spirits hath review'd the state,
From the world's lowest gap unto this height.
Suppliant to thee he kneels, imploring grace
For virtue, yet more high to lift his ken
Toward the bliss supreme.  And I, who ne'er
Coveted sight, more fondly, for myself,
Than now for him, my prayers to thee prefer,
(And pray they be not scant) that thou wouldst drive
Each cloud of his mortality away;
That on the sovran pleasure he may gaze.
This also I entreat of thee, O queen!
Who canst do what thou wilt!  that in him thou
Wouldst after all he hath beheld, preserve
Affection sound, and human passions quell.
Lo!  Where, with Beatrice, many a saint
Stretch their clasp'd hands, in furtherance of my suit!"
     The eyes, that heav'n with love and awe regards,
Fix'd on the suitor, witness'd, how benign
She looks on pious pray'rs: then fasten'd they
On th' everlasting light, wherein no eye
Of creature, as may well be thought, so far
Can travel inward.  I, meanwhile, who drew
Near to the limit, where all wishes end,
The ardour of my wish (for so behooved),
Ended within me. Beck'ning smil'd the sage,
That I should look aloft: but, ere he bade,
Already of myself aloft I look'd;
For visual strength, refining more and more,
Bare me into the ray authentical
Of sovran light.  Thenceforward, what I saw,
Was not for words to speak, nor memory's self
To stand against such outrage on her skill.
As one, who from a dream awaken'd, straight,
All he hath seen forgets; yet still retains
Impression of the feeling in his dream;
E'en such am I: for all the vision dies,
As 't were, away; and yet the sense of sweet,
That sprang from it, still trickles in my heart.
Thus in the sun-thaw is the snow unseal'd;
Thus in the winds on flitting leaves was lost
The Sybil's sentence.  O eternal beam!
(Whose height what reach of mortal thought may soar?)
Yield me again some little particle
Of what thou then appearedst, give my tongue
Power, but to leave one sparkle of thy glory,
Unto the race to come, that shall not lose
Thy triumph wholly, if thou waken aught
Of memory in me, and endure to hear
The record sound in this unequal strain.
     Such keenness from the living ray I met,
That, if mine eyes had turn'd away, methinks,
I had been lost; but, so embolden'd, on
I pass'd, as I remember, till my view
Hover'd the brink of dread infinitude.
     O grace!  unenvying of thy boon!  that gav'st
Boldness to fix so earnestly my ken
On th' everlasting splendour, that I look'd,
While sight was unconsum'd, and, in that depth,
Saw in one volume clasp'd of love, whatever
The universe unfolds; all properties
Of substance and of accident, beheld,
Compounded, yet one individual light
The whole.  And of such bond methinks I saw
The universal form: for that whenever
I do but speak of it, my soul dilates
Beyond her proper self; and, till I speak,
One moment seems a longer lethargy,
Than five-and-twenty ages had appear'd
To that emprize, that first made Neptune wonder
At Argo's shadow darkening on his flood.
     With fixed heed, suspense and motionless,
Wond'ring I gaz'd; and admiration still
Was kindled, as I gaz'd.  It may not be,
That one, who looks upon that light, can turn
To other object, willingly, his view.
For all the good, that will may covet, there
Is summ'd; and all, elsewhere defective found,
Complete.  My tongue shall utter now, no more
E'en what remembrance keeps, than could the babe's
That yet is moisten'd at his mother's breast.
Not that the semblance of the living light
Was chang'd (that ever as at first remain'd)
But that my vision quickening, in that sole
Appearance, still new miracles descry'd,
And toil'd me with the change.  In that abyss
Of radiance, clear and lofty, seem'd methought,
Three orbs of triple hue clipt in one bound:
And, from another, one reflected seem'd,
As rainbow is from rainbow: and the third
Seem'd fire, breath'd equally from both.  Oh speech
How feeble and how faint art thou, to give
Conception birth!  Yet this to what I saw
Is less than little.  Oh eternal light!
Sole in thyself that dwellst; and of thyself
Sole understood, past, present, or to come!
Thou smiledst; on that circling, which in thee
Seem'd as reflected splendour, while I mus'd;
For I therein, methought, in its own hue
Beheld our image painted: steadfastly
I therefore por'd upon the view.  As one
Who vers'd in geometric lore, would fain
Measure the circle; and, though pondering long
And deeply, that beginning, which he needs,
Finds not; e'en such was I, intent to scan
The novel wonder, and trace out the form,
How to the circle fitted, and therein
How plac'd: but the flight was not for my wing;
Had not a flash darted athwart my mind,
And in the spleen unfolded what it sought.
     Here vigour fail'd the tow'ring fantasy:
But yet the will roll'd onward, like a wheel
In even motion, by the Love impell'd,
That moves the sun in heav'n and all the stars.
NOTES TO PARADISE
Verse 12.  Benign Apollo.]  Chaucer has imitated this invention
very closely at the beginning of the Third Booke of Fame.
If, divine vertue, thou
Wilt helpe me to shewe  now
That in my head ymarked is,
     * * * * *
Thou shalt see me go as blive
Unto the next laurer I see,
And kisse it for it is thy tree
Now entre thou my breast anone.
v. 15.  Thus for.]  He appears to mean nothing more than that
this part of his poem will require a greater exertion of his
powers than the former.
v. 19.  Marsyas.]  Ovid, Met. 1. vi. fab. 7.  Compare Boccaccio,
II Filocopo, 1.  5. p. 25. v. ii. Ediz.  Fir.  1723.  "Egli nel
mio petto entri," &c. - "May he enter my bosom, and let my voice
sound like his own, when he made that daring mortal deserve to
come forth unsheathed from his limbs. "
v. 29.  Caesar, or bard.]  So Petrarch, Son.  Par. Prima.
Arbor vittoriosa e trionfale,
Onor d'imperadori e di poeti.
And Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. 1.  st. 9,
The laurel, meed of mighty conquerours
And poets sage.
v. 37.  Through that.]  "Where the four circles, the horizon, the
zodiac, the equator, and the equinoctial colure, join; the last
threeintersecting each other so as to form three crosses, as may
be seen in the armillary sphere."
v. 39.  In happiest constellation.]  Aries.  Some understand the
planetVenus by the "miglior stella "
v. 44.  To the left.]  Being in the opposite hemisphere to ours,
Beatrice that she may behold the rising sun, turns herself to the
v. 47.  As from the first a second beam.]  "Like a reflected
sunbeam," which he compares to a pilgrim hastening homewards.
Ne simil tanto mal raggio secondo
Dal primo usci.
Filicaja, canz. 15. st. 4.
v. 58.  As iron that comes boiling from the fire.]  So Milton,
P.  L.  b. iii.  594.
--As glowing iron with fire.
v. 69.  Upon the day appear'd.
--If the heaven had ywonne,
All new of God another sunne.
Chaucer, First Booke of Fame
E par ch' agginuga un altro sole al cielo.
Ariosto, O F.  c.  x.  st.  109.
Ed ecco un lustro lampeggiar d' intorno
Che sole a sole aggiunse e giorno a giorno.
Manno, Adone.  c. xi. st. 27.
Quando a paro col sol ma piu lucente
L'angelo gli appari sull; oriente
Tasso, G. L. c. i.
-Seems another morn
Ris'n on mid-noon.
Milton, P. L. b. v. 311.
Compare Euripides, Ion. 1550.  [GREEK HERE]
66.  as Glaucus. ] Ovid, Met. 1.  Xiii. Fab.  9
v. 71.  If.]  "Thou O divine Spirit, knowest  whether 1 had not
risen above my human nature, and were not merely such as thou
hadst then, formed me."
v.  125.  Through sluggishness.]
Perch' a risponder la materia e sorda.
So Filicaja, canz.  vi. st 9.
Perche a risponder la discordia e sorda
"The workman hath in his heart a purpose, he carrieth in mind the
whole form which his work should have; there wanteth not him
skill and desire to bring his labour to the best effect, only the
matter, which he hath to work on is unframeable." Hooker's Eccl.
Polity, b. 5.  9.
v. 1.  In small bark.]
Con la barchetta mia cantando in rima
Pulci, Morg.  Magg.  c. xxviii.
Io me n'andro con la barchetta mia,
Quanto l'acqua comporta un picciol legno
v. 30.  This first star.]  the moon
v. 46.  E'en as the truth.]  Like a truth that does not need
demonstration, but is self-evident."
v. 52.  Cain.]  Compare Hell, Canto XX.  123. And Note
v. 65.  Number1ess lights.]  The fixed stars, which differ both
in bulk and splendor.
v. 71.  Save one.]  "Except that principle of rarity and
denseness which thou hast assigned."  By "formal principles,
"principj formali, are meant constituent or essential causes."
Milton, in imitation of this passage, introduces the angel
arguing with Adam respecting the causes of the spots on the moon.
But, as a late French translator of the Paradise well remarks,
his reasoning is physical; that of Dante partly metaphysical and
partly theologic.
v. 111.  Within the heaven.]  According to our Poet's system,
there are ten heavens; the seven planets, the eighth spheres
containing the fixed stars, the primum mobile, and the empyrean.
v. 143.  The virtue mingled.]  Virg. Aen. 1. vi 724.
Principio coelum, &c.
v. 16.  Delusion.]  "An error the contrary to that of Narcissus,
because he mistook a shadow for a substance, I a substance for a
v. 50.  Piccarda.]  The sister of Forese whom we have seen in the
Purgatory, Canto XXIII.
v. 90.  The Lady.] St. Clare, the foundress of the order called
after her She was born of opulent and noble parents at Assisi, in
1193, and died in 1253.  See Biogr.  Univ. t. 1.  p. 598.  8vo.
Paris, 1813.
v. 121.  Constance.]  Daughter of Ruggieri, king of Sicily, who,
being taken by force out of a monastery where she had professed,
was married to the Emperor Henry Vl. and by him was mother to
Frederick 11. She was fifty years old or more at the time, and
"because it was not credited that she could have a child at that
age, she was delivered in a pavilion and it was given out, that
any lady, who pleased, was at liberty to see her.  Many came, and
saw her, and the suspicion ceased."  Ricordano Malaspina in
Muratori, Rer. It. Script. t. viii.  p. 939; and G. Villani, in
the same words, Hist. I v. c. 16
The French translator above mentored speaks of her having
poisoned her husband.  The death of Henry Vl. is recorded in the
Chronicon Siciliae, by an anonymous writer, (Muratori, t. x.) but
not a word of his having been poisoned by Constance, and
Ricordano Malaspina even mentions her decease as happening before
that of her husband, Henry V., for so this author, with some
others, terms him. v. 122.  The second.]  Henry Vl. son of
Frederick I was the second emperor of the house of Saab; and his
son Frederick II "the third and last."
v. 6.  Between two deer]
Tigris ut auditis, diversa valle duorum
Extimulata fame, mugitibus armentorum
Neseit utro potius ruat, et ruere ardet utroque.
Ovid, Metam. 1. v. 166
v. 13.  Daniel.]  See Daniel, c. ii.
v. 24.  Plato.]  [GREEK HERE]  Plato Timaeus v. ix.  p. 326.
Edit. Bip.  "The Creator, when he had framed the universe,
distributed to the stars an equal number of souls, appointing to
each soul its several star."
v. 27.  Of that.]  Plato's opinion.
v. 34.  The first circle.]  The empyrean.
v. 48.  Him who made Tobias whole.]
Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deign'd
To travel with Tobias, and secur'd
His marriage with the sev'n times wedded maid,
Milton, P. L. b. v. 223.
v. 67.  That to the eye of man.]  "That the ways of divine
justice are often inscrutable to man, ought rather to be a motive
to faith than an inducement to heresy." Such appears to me the
most satisfactory explanation of the passage.
v. 82.  Laurence.]  Who suffered martyrdom in the third century.
v. 82.  Scaevola.]  See Liv.  Hist. D. 1.  1. ii. 12.
v. 100.  Alcmaeon.] Ovid, Met.  1. ix. f. 10.
--Ultusque parente parentem
Natus, erit facto pius et sceleratus eodem.
v. 107.  Of will.]  "What Piccarda asserts of Constance, that she
retained her affection to the monastic life, is said absolutely
and without relation to circumstances; and that which I affirm is
spoken of the will conditionally and respectively: so that our
apparent difference is without any disagreement."
v. 119.  That truth.]  The light of divine truth.
v. 43.  Two things.]  The one, the substance of the vow; the
other, the compact, or form of it.
v. 48.  It was enjoin'd the Israelites.]  See Lev. e. xii, and
v. 56.  Either key.]  Purgatory, Canto IX.  108.
v. 86.  That region.]  As some explain it, the east, according to
others the equinoctial line.
v. 124.  This sphere.]  The planet Mercury, which, being nearest
to the sun, is oftenest hidden by that luminary
v. 1.  After that Constantine the eagle turn'd.]  Constantine,
in transferring the seat of empire from Rome to Byzantium,
carried the eagle, the Imperial ensign, from the west to the
east. Aeneas, on the contrary had moved along with the sun's
course, when he passed from Troy to Italy.
v. 5.  A hundred years twice told and more.]  The Emperor
Constantine entered Byzantium in 324, and Justinian began his
reign in 527.
v. 6.  At Europe's extreme point.]  Constantinople being situated
at the extreme of Europe, and on the borders of Asia, near those
in the neighbourhood of Troy, from whence the first founders of
Rome had emigrated.
v. 13.  To clear th' incumber'd laws.]  The code of laws was
abridged and reformed by Justinian.
v. 15.  Christ's nature merely human.]  Justinian is said to have
been a follower of the heretical Opinions held by Eutyches," who
taught that in Christ there was but one nature, viz. that of the
incarnate word."
Maclaine's Mosheim, t. ii.  Cent.  v. p. ii. c. v. 13.
v. 16.  Agapete.]  Agapetus, Bishop of Rome, whose Scheda Regia,
addressed to the Emperor Justinian, procured him a place among
the wisest and most judicious writers of this century."
Ibid.  Cent.  vi. p. ii c.  ii.  8.
v. 33.  Who pretend its power.]  The Ghibellines.
v. 33.  And who oppose ]  The Guelphs.
v. 34.  Pallas died.]  See Virgil, Aen.  1. X.
v. 39.  The rival three.]  The Horatii and Curiatii.
v. 41.  Down.]  "From the rape of the Sabine women to the
violation of Lucretia."
v. 47.  Quintius.] Quintius Cincinnatus.
E Cincinnato dall' inculta chioma.
v. 50.  Arab hordes.]  The Arabians seem to be put for the
barbarians in general.
v. 54.  That hill.]  The city of Fesulae, which was sacked by the
Romans after the defeat of Cataline.
v. 56.  Near the hour.]  Near the time of our Saviour's birth.
v. 59.  What then it wrought.]  In the following fifteen lines
the Poet has comprised the exploits of Julius Caesar.
v. 75.  In its next bearer's gripe.] With Augustus Caesar.
v. 89.  The third Caesar.]  "Tiberius the third of the Caesars,
had it in his power to surpass the glory of all who either
preceded or came after him, by destroying the city of .Jerusalem,
as Titus afterwards did, and thus revenging the cause of God
himself on the Jews."
v. 95.  Vengeance for vengeance ]  This will be afterwards
explained by the Poet himself.
v. 98.  Charlemagne.]  Dante could not be ignorant that the reign
of Justinian was long prior to that of Charlemagne; but the
spirit of the former emperor is represented, both in this
instance and in what follows, as conscious of the events that had
taken place after his own time.
v. 104.  The yellow lilies.]  The French ensign.
v. 110.  Charles.]  The commentators explain this to mean Charles
II, king of Naples and Sicily. Is it not more likely to allude to
Charles of Valois, son of Philip III of France, who was sent for,
about this time, into Italy by Pope Boniface, with the promise of
being made emperor? See G. Villani, 1.  viii. c. 42.
v. 131.  Romeo's light.]  The story of Romeo is involved in some
uncertainty.  The French writers assert the continuance of his
ministerial office even after the decease of his soverign
Raymond Berenger, count of Provence: and they rest this assertion
chiefly on the fact of a certain Romieu de Villeneuve, who was
the contemporary of that prince, having left large possessions
behind him, as appears by his will, preserved in the archives of
the bishopric of Venice.  There might however have been more than
one person of the name of Romieu, or Romeo which answers to that
of Palmer in our language.  Nor is it probable that the Italians,
who lived so near the time, were misinformed in an occurrence of
such notoriety. According to them, after he had long been a
faithful steward to Raymond, when an account was required from
him of the revenues whichhe had carefully husbanded, and his
master as lavishly disbursed, "He demanded the little mule, the
staff, and the scrip, with which he had first entered into the
count's service, a stranger pilgrim from the shrine of St. James
in Galicia, and parted as he came; nor was it ever known whence
he was or wither he went." G. Villani, 1.  vi.  c. 92.
v. 135.  Four daughters.]  Of the four daughters of Raymond
Berenger, Margaret, the eldest, was married to Louis IX of
France; Eleanor; the next, to Henry III, of England; Sancha, the
third, to Richard, Henry's brother, and King of the Romans; and
the youngest, Beatrice, to Charles I, King of Naples and Sicily,
and brother to Louis.
v. 136.  Raymond Berenger.]  This prince, the last of the house
of Barcelona, who was count of Provence, died in 1245.  He is in
the list of Provencal poets.  See Millot, Hist, Litt des
Troubadours, t.  ii.  P.  112.
v. 3.  Malahoth.]  A Hebrew word, signifying "kingdoms."
v.  4.  That substance bright.]  Justinian.
v. 17.  As might have made one blest amid the flames.]
So Giusto de' Conti, Bella Mano. "Qual salamandra."
Che puommi nelle fiammi far beato.
v. 23.  That man who was unborn.]  Adam.
v. 61.  What distils.]  "That which proceeds immediately from
God, and without intervention of secondary causes, in immortal."
v. 140.  Our resurrection certain.]  "Venturi appears to mistake
the Poet's reasoning, when he observes:  "Wretched for us, if we
had not arguments more convincing, and of a higher kind, to
assure us of the truth of our resurrection."  It is here
intended, I think, that the whole of God's dispensations to man
should be considered as a proof of our resurrection.  The
conclusion is that as before sin man was immortal,
so being restored to the favor of heaven by the expiation made
for sin, he necessarily recovers his claim to immortality.
There is much in this poem to justify the encomium which the
learned Salvini has passed on it, when, in an epistle to Redi,
imitating what Horace had said of Homer, that the duties of life
might be better learnt from the Grecian bard than from the
teachers of the porch or the academy, he says--
And dost thou ask, what themes my mind engage?
The lonely hours I give to Dante's page;
And meet more sacred learning in his lines
Than I had gain'd from all the school divines.
Se volete saper la vita mia,
Studiando io sto lungi da tutti gli nomini
Ed ho irnparato piu teologia
In questi giorni, che ho riletto Dante,
Che nelle scuole fattto io non avria.
v. 4.  Epicycle,]  "In sul dosso di questo cerchio," &c.
Convito di Dante, Opere, t. i. p. 48, ed. Ven. 1793.
"Upon the back of this circle, in the heaven of Venus, whereof we
are now treating, is a little sphere, which has in that heaven a
revolution of its own: whose circle the astronomers term
v. 11.  To sit in Dido's bosom.]  Virgil. Aen. 1. i. 718,
v. 40.  'O ye whose intellectual ministry.]
Voi ch' intendendo il terzo ciel movete. The first line in our
Poet" first canzone.  See his Convito, Ibid. p. 40.
v. 53.  had the time been more.]  The spirit now speaking is
Charles Martel crowned king of Hungary, and son of Charles 11
king of Naples and Sicily, to which
dominions dying in his father's lifetime, he did not succeed.
v. 57.  Thou lov'dst me well.]  Charles Martel might have been
known to our poet at Florence whither he came to meet his father
in 1295, the year of his death.  The retinue and the habiliments
of the young monarch are minutely described by G. Villani, who
adds, that "he remained more than twenty days in Florence,
waiting for his father King Charles and his brothers during which
time great honour was done him by the, Florentines and he showed
no less love towards them, and he was much in favour with all."
1.  viii. c. 13. His brother Robert, king of Naples, was the
friend of Petrarch.
v. 60.  The left bank.]  Provence.
v. 62.  That horn
Of fair Ausonia.]
The kingdom of Naples.
v. 68.  The land.]  Hungary.
v. 73.  The beautiful Trinaeria.]  Sicily, so called from its
three promontories, of which Pachynus and Pelorus, here
mentioned, are two.
v. 14 'Typhaeus.]  The giant whom Jupiter is fabled to have
under the mountain Aetna from whence he vomits forth smoke and
v. 77.  Sprang through me from Charles and Rodolph.]  "Sicily
would be still ruled by a race of monarchs, descended through me
from Charles I and Rodolph I the former my grandfather king of
Naples and Sicily; the latter emperor of Germany, my
father-in-law; "both celebrated in the Purgatory Canto, Vll.
v. 78.  Had not ill lording.]  "If the ill conduct of our
governors in Sicily had not excited the resentment and hatred of
the people and stimulated them to that dreadful massacre at the
Sicilian vespers;" in consequence of which the kingdom fell into
the hands of Peter III of Arragon, in 1282
v. 81.  My brother's foresight.]  He seems to tax his brother
Robert with employing necessitous and greedy Catalonians to
administer the affairs of his kingdom.
v. 99.  How bitter can spring up.]  "How a covetous son can
spring from a liberal father."  Yet that father has himself been
accused of avarice in the Purgatory Canto XX. v. 78; though his
general character was that of a bounteous prince.
v. 125.  Consult your teacher.]  Aristole.  [GREEK HERE]
De Rep. 1. iii. c. 4. "Since a state is made up of members
differing from one another, (for even as an animal, in the first
instance, consists of soul and body, and the soul, of reason and
desire; and a family, of man and woman, and property of master
and slave; in like manner a state consists both of all these and
besides these of other dissimilar kinds,)  it necessarily follows
that the excellence of all the members of the state cannot be one
and the same."
v. 136.  Esau.]  Genesis c. xxv.  22.
v. 137.  Quirinus.]  Romulus, born of so obscure a father, that
his parentage was attributed to Mars.
v. 2.  O fair Clemenza.] Daughter of Charles Martel, and second
wife of Louis X. of France.
v. 2.  The treachery.]  He alludes to the occupation of the
kingdom of Sicily by Robert, in exclusion of his brother s son
Carobert, or Charles. Robert, the rightful heir.  See G. Villani,
1.  viii. c.  112.
v. 7.  That saintly light.]  Charles Martel.
v. 25.  In that part.]  Between Rialto and the Venetian
territory, and the sources of the rivers Brenta and Piava is
situated a castle called Romano, the birth-place of the famous
tyrant Ezzolino or Azzolino, the brother of Cunizza, who is now
speaking. The tyrant we have seen in "the river of blood."  Hell,
Canto XII. v. 110.
v. 32.  Cunizza.]  The adventures of Cunizza, overcome by the
influence of her star, are related by the chronicler Rolandino of
Padua, 1. i. c. 3, in Muratori Rer. It. Script. t. viii.  p. 173.
She eloped from her first husband, Richard of St. Boniface, in
the company of Sordello, (see Purgatory, Canto VI. and VII.  )
with whom she is supposed to have cohabited before her marriage:
then lived with a soldier of Trevigi, whose wife was living at
the same time in the same city, and on his being murdered by her
brother the tyrant, was by her brother married to a nobleman of
Braganzo, lastly when he also had fallen by the same hand  she,
after her brother's death, was again wedded in Verona.
v. 37.  This.]  Folco of Genoa, a celebrated Provencal poet,
commonly termed Folques of Marseilles, of which place he was
perhaps bishop. Many errors of Nostradamus, regarding him, which
have been followed by Crescimbeni, Quadrio, and Millot, are
detected by the diligence of Tiraboschi.  Mr. Matthias's ed.  v.
1. P. 18.  All that appears certain, is what we are told in this
Canto, that he was of Genoa, and by Petrarch in the Triumph of
Love, c. iv.  that he was better known by the appellation he
derived from Marseilles, and at last resumed the religious habit.
One of his verses is cited by Dante, De Vulg. Eloq. 1.  ii. c. 6.
v. 40.  Five times.]  The five hundred years are elapsed: and
unless the Provencal MSS. should be brought to light the poetical
reputation of Folco must rest on the mention made of him by the
more fortunate Italians.
v. 43 The crowd.]  The people who inhabited the tract of country
bounded by the river Tagliamento to the east, and Adice to the
v. 45.  The hour is near.]  Cunizza foretells the defeat of
Giacopo da Carrara, Lord of Padua by Can Grande, at Vicenza, on
the 18th September 1314.  See G. Villani, 1. ix. c. 62.
v. 48.  One.]  She predicts also the fate of Ricciardo da Camino,
who is said to have been murdered at Trevigi, where the rivers
(Sile and Cagnano meet) while he was engaged in playing at chess.
v. 50.  The web.]  The net or snare into, which he is destined to
v. 50.  Feltro.]  The Bishop of Felto having received a number of
fugitives from Ferrara, who were in opposition to the Pope, under
a promise of protection, afterwards gave them up, so that they
were reconducted to that city, and the greater part of them there
put to death.
v. 53.  Malta's.]  A tower, either in the citadel of Padua, which
under the tyranny of Ezzolino, had been "with many a foul and
midnight murder fed," or (as some say) near a river of the same
name, that falls into the lake of Bolsena, in which the Pope was
accustomed to imprison such as had been guilty of an irremissible
v. 56 This priest.]  The bishop, who, to show himself a zealous
partisan of the Pope, had committed the above-mentioned act of
v. 58.  We descry.]  "We behold the things that we predict, in
the mirrors of eternal truth."
v. 64.  That other joyance.]  Folco.
v. 76.  Six shadowing wings.]  "Above it stood the seraphims:
each one had six wings." Isaiah, c. vi.  2.
v. 80.  The valley of waters.]  The Mediterranean sea.
v. 80.  That.]  The great ocean.
v. 82.  Discordant shores.]  Europe and Africa.
v. 83.  Meridian.]  Extending to the east, the Mediterranean at
last reaches the coast of Palestine, which is on its horizon when
it enters the straits of Gibraltar. "Wherever a man is," says
Vellutello, "there he has, above his head, his own particular
meridian circle."
v. 85.  --'Twixt Ebro's stream
And Macra's.]
Eora, a river to the west, and Macra, to the east of Genoa, where
Folco was born.
v. 88.  Begga.]  A place in Africa, nearly opposite to Genoa.
v. 89.  Whose haven.]  Alluding to the terrible slaughter of the
Genoese made by the Saracens in 936, for which event Vellutello
refers to the history of Augustino Giustiniani.
v. 91.  This heav'n.]  The planet Venus.
v. 93.  Belus' daughter.]  Dido.
v. 96.  She of Rhodope.]  Phyllis.
v. 98.  Jove's son.]  Hercules.
v. 112.  Rahab.]  Heb. c. xi.  31.
v. 120.  With either palm.]  "By the crucifixion of Christ"
v. 126.  The cursed flower.]  The coin of Florence, called the
v. 130.  The decretals.]  The canon law.
v. 134.  The Vatican.]  He alludes either to the death of Pope
Boniface VIII. or, as Venturi supposes, to the coming of the
Emperor Henry VII. into Italy, or else, according to the yet more
probable conjecture of Lombardi, to the transfer of the holy see
from Rome to Avignon, which took place in the pontificate of
v. 7.  The point.]  "To that part of heaven," as Venturi explains
it, "in which the equinoctial circle and the Zodiac intersect
each other, where the common motion of the heavens from east to
west may be said to strike with greatest force against the motion
proper to the planets; and this repercussion, as it were, is here
the strongest, because the velocity of each is increased to the
utmost by their respective distance from the poles. Such at least
is the system of Dante."
v. 11.  Oblique.]  The zodiac.
v. 25.  The part.]  The above-mentioned intersection of the
circle and the zodiac.
v. 26.  Minister.]  The sun.
v. 30.  Where.]  In which the sun rises every day earlier after
the vernal equinox.
v. 45.  Fourth family.]  The inhabitants of the sun, the fourth
v. 46.  Of his spirit and of his offspring.]  The procession of
the third, and the generation of the second person in the
v. 70.  Such was the song.]  "The song of these spirits was
v. 86.  No less constrained.]  "The rivers might as easily cease
to flow towards the sea, as we could deny thee thy request."
v. 91.  I then.]  "I was of the Dominican order."
v. 95.  Albert of Cologne.]  Albertus Magnus was born at
Laugingen, in Thuringia, in 1193, and studied at Paris and at
Padua, at the latter of which places he entered into the
Dominican order.  He then taught theology in various parts of
Germany, and particularly at Cologne. Thomas Aquinas was his
favourite pupil.  In 1260, he reluctantly accepted
the bishopric of Ratisbon, and in two years after resigned it,
and returned to his cell in Cologne, where the remainder of his
life was passed in superintending the school, and in composing
his voluminous works on divinity and natural science.  He died in
1280.  The absurd imputation of his having dealt in the magical
art is well known; and his biographers take some pains to clear
him of it.  Scriptores Ordinis Praedicatorum, by Quetif and
Echard, Lut. Par. 1719.  fol. t. 1. p. 162.
v. 96.  Of Aquinum, Thomas.]  Thomas Aquinas, of whom Bucer is
reported to have said, "Take but Thomas away, and I will overturn
the church of Rome," and whom Hooker terms "the greatest among
the school divines," (Eccl. Pol. b. 3.  9), was born of noble
parents, who anxiously, but vainly, endeavoured to divert him
from a life of celibacy and study; and died in 1274, at the age
of fourty-seven. Echard and Quetif, ibid. p. 271. See also
Purgatory Canto XX. v. 67.
v. 101.  Gratian.]  "Gratian, a Benedictine monk belonging to the
convent of St. Felix and Nabor, at Bologna, and by birth a
Tuscan, composed, about the year 1130, for the use of the
schools, an abridgment or epitome of canon law, drawn from the
letters of the pontiffs, the decrees of councils, and the
writings of the ancient doctors."
Maclaine's Mosheim, v. iii. cent. 12. part 2. c. i. 6.
v. 101.  To either forum.]  "By reconciling," as Venturi explains
it "the civil with the canon law."
v. 104.  Peter.]  "Pietro Lombardo was of obscure origin, nor is
the place of his birth in Lombardy ascertained.  With a
recommendation from the bishop of Lucca to St. Bernard, he went
into France to continue his studies, and for that purpose
remained some time at Rheims, whence he afterwards proceeded to
Paris.  Here his reputation was so great that Philip, brother of
Louis VII., being chosen bishop of Paris, resigned that dignity
to Pietro, whose pupil he had been. He held his bishopric
only one year, and died in 1160.  His Liber Sententiarum is
highly esteemed.  It contains a system of scholastic theology, so
much more complete than any which had been yet seen, that it may
be deemed an original work."  Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett.
Ital.  t. iii. 1. 4. c. 2.
v. 104.  Who with the widow gave.]  This alludes to the beginning
of the Liber Sententiarum, where Peter says: "Cupiens aliquid de
penuria ac tenuitate nostra cum paupercula in gazophylacium
domini mittere,"
v. 105.  The fifth light.]  Solomon.
v. 112.  That taper's radiance.]  St. Dionysius the Areopagite.
"The famous Grecian fanatic, who gave himself out for Dionysius
the Areopagite, disciple of St. Paul, and who, under the
protection of this venerable name, gave laws and instructions to
those that were desirous of raising their souls above all human
things in order to unite them to their great source by sublime
contemplation, lived most probably in this century (the fourth),
though some place him before, others after, the present period."
Maclaine's Mosheim, v. i. cent.  iv. p. 2. c. 3.  12.
v. 116.  That pleader.]  1n the fifth century, Paulus Orosius,
"acquired a considerable degree of reputation by the History he
wrote to refute the cavils of the Pagans against Christianity,
and by his books against the Pelagians and Priscillianists."
Ibid.  v. ii. cent. v. p. 2.  c. 2. 11.  A similar train of
argument was pursued by  Augustine, in his book De Civitate Dei.
Orosius is classed by Dante, in his treatise De Vulg. Eloq.  I ii
c. 6. as one of his favourite authors, among those "qui usi sunt
altissimas prosas,"--" who have written prose with the greatest
loftiness of style."
v. 119.  The eighth.]  Boetius, whose book De Consolatione
Philosophiae excited so much attention during the middle ages,
was born, as  Tiraboschi conjectures, about 470.  "In 524 he was
cruelly put to death by command of Theodoric, either on real or
pretended suspicion of his being engaged in a conspiracy." Della
Lett.  Ital. t. iii. 1. i. c. 4.
v. 124.  Cieldauro.]  Boetius was buried at Pavia, in the
monastery of St. Pietro in Ciel d'oro.
v. 126.  Isidore.]  He was Archbishop of Seville during forty
years, and died in 635.  See Mariana, Hist. 1.  vi. c. 7.
Mosheim, whose critical opinions in general must be taken with
some allowance, observes that "his grammatical theological, and
historical productions, discover more learning and pedantry, than
judgment and taste."
v. 127.  Bede.]  Bede, whose virtues obtained him the appellation
of the Venerable, was born in 672 at Wearmouth and Jarrow, in the
bishopric of Durham, and died in 735.  Invited to Rome by Pope
Sergius I., he preferred passing almost the whole of his life in
the seclusion of a monastery.  A catalogue of his numerous
writings may be seen in Kippis's Biographia Britannica, v. ii.
v. 127.  Richard.]  Richard of St. Victor, a native either of
Scotland or Ireland, was canon and prior of the monastery of that
name at Paris and died in 1173.  "He was at the head of the
Mystics in this century and his treatise, entitled the Mystical
Ark, which contains as it were the marrow of this kind of
theology, was received with the greatest avidity."  Maclaine's
Mosheim, v. iii.  cent. xii. p. 2. c. 2.  23.
v. 132.  Sigebert.]  "A monk of the abbey of Gemblours who was in
high repute at the end of the eleventh, and beginning of the
twelfth  century." Dict.  de Moreri.
v. 131.  The straw-litter'd street.]  The name of a street in
Paris: the "Rue du Fouarre."
v. 136.  The spouse of God.]  The church.
v. 1.  O fond anxiety of mortal men.]  Lucretius, 1.  ii. 14
O miseras hominum mentes ! O pectora caeca
Qualibus in tenebris vitae quantisque periclis
Degitur hoc aevi quodcunque est!
v. 4.  Aphorisms,]  The study of medicine.
v. 17.  'The lustre.]  The spirit of Thomas Aquinas
v. 29.  She.]  The church.
v. 34.  One.]  Saint Francis.
v. 36.  The other.]  Saint Dominic.
v. 40.  Tupino.]  A rivulet near Assisi, or Ascesi where Francis
was born in 1182.
v. 40.  The wave.]  Chiascio, a stream that rises in a mountain
near Agobbio, chosen by St. Ubaldo for the place of his
v. 42.  Heat and cold.]  Cold from the snow, and heat from the
reflection of the sun.
v. 45.  Yoke.]  Vellutello understands this of the vicinity of
the mountain to Nocera and Gualdo; and Venturi (as I have taken
it) of the heavy impositions laid on those places by the
Perugians. For GIOGO, like the Latin JUGUM, will admit of either
v. 50.  The east.]
This is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Shakespeare.
v. 55.  Gainst his father's will.]  In opposition to the wishes
of his natural father
v. 58.  In his father's sight.]  The spiritual father, or bishop,
in whose presence he made a profession of poverty.
v. 60.  Her first husband.]  Christ.
v. 63.  Amyclas.]  Lucan makes Caesar exclaim, on witnessing the
secure poverty of the fisherman Amyclas:
--O vite tuta facultas
Pauperis, angustique lares!  O munera nondum
Intellecta deum!  quibus hoc contingere templis,
Aut potuit muris, nullo trepidare tumultu,
Caesarea pulsante manu?
Lucan Phars. 1. v. 531.
v. 72.  Bernard.]  One of the first followers of the saint.
v. 76.  Egidius.]  The third of his disciples, who died in 1262.
His work, entitled Verba Aurea, was published in 1534, at Antwerp
See Lucas Waddingus, Annales Ordinis Minoris, p. 5.
v. 76.  Sylvester.]  Another of his earliest associates.
v. 83.  Pietro Bernardone.]  A man in an humble station of life
v. 86.  Innocent.]  Pope Innocent III.
v. 90.  Honorius.]  His successor Honorius III who granted
certain privileges to the Franciscans.
v. 93.  On the hard rock.]  The mountain Alverna in the Apennine.
v. 100.  The last signet.]  Alluding to the stigmata, or marks
resembling the wounds of Christ, said to have been found on the
saint's body.
v. 106.  His dearest lady.]  Poverty.
v. 113.  Our Patriarch ]  Saint Dominic.
v. 316.  His flock ] The Dominicans.
v. 127.  The planet from whence they split.]  "The rule of their
order, which the Dominicans neglect to observe."
v. 1.  The blessed flame.]  Thomas Aquinas
v. 12.  That voice.]  The nymph Echo, transformed into the
repercussion of the voice.
v. 25.  One.]  Saint Buonaventura, general of the Franciscan
order, in which he effected some reformation, and one of the most
profound divines of his age.  "He refused the archbishopric of
York, which was offered him by Clement IV, but afterwards was
prevailed on to accept the bishopric of Albano and a cardinal's
hat.  He was born at Bagnoregio or Bagnorea, in Tuscany, A.D.
1221, and died in 1274."  Dict. Histor. par Chaudon et Delandine.
Ed.  Lyon.  1804.
v. 28.  The love.]  By an act of mutual courtesy, Buonaventura,
a Franciscan, is made to proclaim the praises of St. Dominic,
as Thomas Aquinas, a Dominican, has celebrated those of St.
v. 42.  In that clime.]  Spain.
v. 48.  Callaroga.]  Between Osma and Aranda, in Old Castile,
designated by the royal coat of arms.
v. 51.  The loving minion of the Christian faith.]  Dominic was
born April 5, 1170, and died August 6, 1221.  His birthplace,
Callaroga; his father and mother's names, Felix and Joanna, his
mother's dream; his name of Dominic, given him in consequence of
a vision by a noble matron, who stood sponsor to him, are all
told in an anonymous life of the saint, said to be written in the
thirteenth century, and published by Quetif and Echard,
Scriptores Ordinis Praedicatorum.  Par.  1719. fol. t 1.  p. 25.
These writers deny his having been an inquisitor, and indeed the
establishment of the inquisition itself before the fourth Lateran
council.  Ibid.  p. 88.
v. 55.  In the mother's womb.]  His mother, when pregnant with
him, is said to have dreamt that she should bring forth a white
and black dog, with a lighted torch in its mouth.
v. 59.  The dame.]  His godmother's dream was, that he had one
star in his forehead, and another in the nape of his neck, from
which he communicated light to the east and the west.
v. 73.  Felix.]  Felix Gusman.
v. 75.  As men interpret it.]  Grace or gift of the Lord.
v. 77.  Ostiense.]  A cardinal, who explained the decretals.
v. 77.  Taddeo.]  A physician, of Florence.
v. 82.  The see.]  "The apostolic see, which no longer continues
its wonted liberality towards the indigent and deserving; not
indeed  through its own fault, as its doctrines are still the
same, but through the fault of the pontiff, who is seated in it."
v. 85.  No dispensation.]  Dominic did not ask license to
compound for the use of unjust acquisitions, by dedicating a part
of them to pious purposes.
v. 89.  In favour of that seed.]  "For that seed of the divine
word, from which have sprung up these four-and-twenty plants,
that now environ thee."
v. 101.  But the track.]  "But the rule of St. Francis is already
deserted and the lees of the wine are turned into mouldiness."
v. 110.  Tares.]  He adverts to the parable of the taxes and the
v. 111.  I question not.]  "Some indeed might be found, who still
observe the rule of the order, but such would come neither from
Casale nor Acquasparta:" of the former of which places was
Uberto, one master general, by whom the discipline had been
relaxed; and of the latter, Matteo, another, who had enforced it
with unnecessary rigour.
v. 121.  -Illuminato here,
And Agostino.]
Two among the earliest followers of St. Francis.
v. 125.  Hugues of St. Victor.]  A Saxon of the monastery of
Saint  Victor at Paris, who fed ill 1142 at the age of
forty-four.  "A man distinguished by the fecundity of his genius,
who treated in his writings of all the branches of sacred and
profane erudition that were known in his time, and who composed
several dissertations that are not destitute of merit."
Maclaine's Mosheim, Eccl. Hist. v. iii . cent. xii. p. 2. 2. 23.
I have looked into his writings, and found some reason for
this high eulogium.
v. 125.  Piatro Mangiadore.]  "Petrus Comestor, or the Eater,
born at Troyes, was canon and dean of that church, and afterwards
chancellor of the church of Paris.  He relinquished these
benefices to become a regular canon of St. Victor at Paris, where
he died in 1198.  Chaudon et Delandine Dict. Hist. Ed. Lyon.
1804. The work by which he is best known, is his Historia
Scolastica, which I shall have occasion to cite in the Notes to
v. 126.  He of Spain.]  "To Pope Adrian V succeeded John XXI a
native of Lisbon a man of great genius and extraordinary
acquirements, especially in logic and in medicine, as his books,
written in the name of Peter of Spain (by which he was known
before he became Pope), may testify.  His life was not much
longer than that of his predecessors, for he was killed at
Viterbo, by the falling in of the roof of his chamber, after he
had been pontiff only eight months and as many days.
A.D. 1277.  Mariana, Hist. de Esp. l. xiv.  c. 2.
v. 128.  Chrysostom.]  The eloquent patriarch of Constantinople.
v. 128.  Anselmo.]  "Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, was born
at Aosta, about 1034, and studied under Lanfrane at the monastery
of Bec, in Normandy, where he afterwards devoted himself to a
religious life, in his twenty-seventh year.  In three years he
was made prior, and then abbot of that monastery!  from whence he
was taken, in 1093, to succeed to the archbishopric, vacant by
the death of Lanfrane. He enjoyed this dignity till his death, in
1109, though it was disturbed by many
dissentions with William II and Henry I respecting the immunities
and investitures.  There is much depth and precisian in his
theological  works." Tiraboschi, Stor.  della Lett. Ital. t. iii.
1. iv. c. 2. Ibid.  c. v.  "It is an observation made by many
modern writers, that the demonstration of the existence of God,
taken from the idea of a Supreme Being, of which Des Cartes is
thought to be the author, was so many ages back discovered and
brought to light by Anselm.  Leibnitz himself makes
the remark, vol. v. Oper.  p. 570.  Edit.  Genev. 1768."
v. 129.  Donatus.]  Aelius Donatus, the grammarian, in the fourth
century, one of the preceptors of St. Jerome.
v. 130.  Raban.]  "Rabanus Maurus, Archbishop of Mentz, is
deservedly placed at the head of the Latin writers of this age."
Mosheim, v. ii. cent. ix. p.  2 c. 2.  14.
v. 131.  Joachim.]  Abbot of Flora in Calabria; "whom the
multitude revered as a person divinely inspired and equal to the
most illustrious prophets of ancient times."  Ibid.  v. iii.
cent. xiii. p. 2. c. 2. 33.
v. 134.  A peer.]  St. Dominic.
v. 1.  Let him.]  "Whoever would conceive the sight that now
presented itself to me, must imagine to himself fifteen of the
brightest stars in heaven, together with seven stars of Arcturus
Major and two of Arcturus Minor, ranged in two circles, one
within the other, each resembling the crown of Ariadne, and
moving round m opposite directions."
v. 21.  The Chiava.]  See Hell, Canto XXIX. 45.
v. 29.  That luminary.]  Thomas Aquinas.
v. 31.  One ear.]  "Having solved one of thy questions, I proceed
to answer the other.  Thou thinkest, then, that Adam and Christ
were both endued with all the perfection of which the human
nature is capable and therefore wonderest at what has been said
concerning Solomon"
v. 48.  That.]  "Things corruptible and incorruptible, are only
emanations from the archetypal idea residing in the Divine mind."
v. 52.  His brightness.]  The Word: the Son of God.
v. 53.  His love triune with them.]  The Holy Ghost.
v. 55.  New existences.]  Angels and human souls.
v. 57.  The lowest powers.]  Irrational life and brute matter.
v. 62.  Their wax and that which moulds it.]  Matter, and the
virtue or energy that acts on it.
v. 68.  The heav'n.]  The influence of the planetary bodies.
v. 77.  The clay.]  Adam.
v. 88.  Who ask'd.]  "He did not desire to know the number of the
stars, or to pry into the subtleties of metaphysical and
mathematical science: but asked for that wisdom which might fit
him for his kingly office."
v. 120.  --Parmenides Melissus Bryso.]
For the singular opinions entertained by the two former of these
heathen philosophers, see Diogenes Laertius, 1. ix. and Aristot.
de Caelo, 1. iii. c. 1 and Phys. l. i. c. 2. The last is also
twice adduced by 2. Aristotle (Anal Post. 1. i. c. 9. and Rhet.
1. iii. c. 2.) as 3. affording instances of false reasoning.
v. 123.  Sabellius, Arius.]  Well-known heretics.
v. 124.  Scymitars.] A passage in the travels of
Bertradon de la Brocquiere, translated by Mr. Johnes, will
explain this
allusion, which has given some trouble to the commentators.  That
traveler, who wrote before Dante, informs us, p. 138, that the
wandering Arabs used their scymitars as mirrors.
v. 126.  Let not.]  "Let not short-sighted mortals presume to
decide on the future doom of any man, from a consideration of his
present character and actions."
v. 5.  Such was the image.]  The voice of Thomas Aquinas
proceeding, from the circle to the centre and that of Beatrice
from the centre to the circle.
v. 26.  Him.]  Literally translated by Chaucer, Troilus and
Thou one two, and three eterne on live
That raignest aie in three, two and one
Uncircumscript, and all maist circonscrive,
v. 81. The goodliest light.]  Solomon.
v. 78.  To more lofty bliss.]  To the planet Mars.
v. 94.  The venerable sign.]  The cross.
v. 125.  He.]  "He who considers that the eyes of Beatrice became
more radiant the higher we ascended, must not wonder that I do
not except even them as I had not yet beheld them since our
entrance into this planet."
v. 24.  Our greater Muse.]  Virgil Aen.  1. vi. 684.
v. 84.  I am thy root.]  Cacciaguida, father to Alighieri, of
whom our Poet was the great-grandson.
v. 89.  The mountain.]  Purgatory.
v. 92.  Florence.]  See G. Villani, l. iii.  c. 2.
v. 93.  Which calls her still.]  The public clock being still
within the circuit of the ancient walls.
v. 98.  When.]  When the women were not married at too early an
age, and did not expect too large a portion.
v. 101.  Void.]  Through the civil wars.
v. 102 Sardanapalus.]  The luxurious monarch of Assyria Juvenal
is here imitated, who uses his name for an instance of
effeminacy.  Sat.
v. 103.  Montemalo ] Either an elevated spot between Rome and
Viterbo, or Monte Mario, the site of the villa Mellini,
commanding a view of Rome.
v. 101.  Our suburban turret.]  Uccellatojo, near Florence, from
whence that city was discovered.
v. 103.  Bellincion Berti.]  Hell, Canto XVI. 38.  nd Notes.
There is a curious description of the simple manner in which the
earlier Florentines dressed themselves in G. Villani, 1 vi.  c.
v. 110.  Of Nerli and of Vecchio.]  Two of the most opulent
families in Florence.
v. 113.  Each.]  "None fearful either of dying in banishment, or
of being deserted by her husband on a scheme of battle in France.
v. 120.  A Salterello and Cianghella.]  The latter a shameless
woman of the family of Tosa, married to Lito degli Alidosi of
Imola: the former Lapo Salterello, a lawyer, with whom Dante was
at variance.
v. 125.  Mary.]  The Virgin was involved in the pains of
child-birth Purgatory, Canto XX. 21.
v. 130 Valdipado.]  Cacciaguida's wife, whose family name was
Aldighieri; came from Ferrara, called Val di Pado, from its being
watered by the Po.
v. 131.  Conrad.]  The Emperor Conrad III who died in 1152.
See G. Villani, 1.  iv.  34.
v. 136.  Whose people.] The Mahometans, who were left in
possession of the Holy Land, through the supineness of the Pope.
v. 10.  With greeting.]  The Poet, who had addressed the spirit,
not knowing him to be his ancestor, with a plain "Thou," now uses
more ceremony, and calls him "You," according to a custom
introduced among the Romans in the latter times of the empire.
v. 15.  Guinever.]  Beatrice's smile encouraged him to proceed
just as the cough of Ginevra's female servant gave her mistress
assurance to admit the freedoms of Lancelot.  See Hell, Canto V.
v. 23.  The fold.]  Florence, of which John the Baptist was the
patron saint.
v. 31.  From the day.]  From the Incarnation to the birth of
Cacciaguida, the planet Mars had returned five hundred and
fifty-three times to the constellation of Leo, with which it is
supposed to have a congenial influence.  His birth may,
therefore, be placed about 1106.
v. 38.  The last.]  The city was divided into four compartments.
The Elisei, the ancestors of Dante, resided near the entrance of
that named from the Porta S. Piero, which was the last reached by
the competitor in the annual race at Florence.  See G. Villani,
1.  iv. c.  10.
v. 44.  From Mars.]  "Both in the times of heathenish and of
Christianity."  Hell, Canto XIII. 144.
v. 48.  Campi and Certaldo and Fighine.]  Country places near
v. 50.  That these people.]  That the inhabitants of the above-
mentioned places had not been mixed with the citizens: nor the
limits of Florence extended beyond Galluzzo and Trespiano."
v. 54.  Aguglione's hind and Signa's.]  Baldo of Aguglione, and
Bonifazio of Signa.
v. 56.  Had not the people.]  If Rome had continued in her
allegiance to the emperor, and the Guelph and Ghibelline factions
had thus been prevented, Florence would not have been polluted by
a race of upstarts, nor lost the most respectable of her ancient
v. 61.  Simifonte.]  A castle dismantled by the Florentines.  G.
Villani, 1. v. c. 30.  The individual here alluded to is no
longer known.
v. 69.  The blind bull.]  So Chaucer, Troilus and Cresseide. b.
For swifter course cometh thing that is of wight
When it descendeth than done things light.
Compare Aristotle, Ethic.  Nic. l. vi.  c. 13.  [GREEK HERE]
v. 72.  Luni, Urbisaglia.]  Cities formerly of importance, but
then fallen to decay.
v. 74.  Chiusi and Sinigaglia.]  The same.
v. 80.  As the moon.]  "The fortune of us, that are the moon's
men doth ebb and flow like the sea."  Shakespeare, 1 Henry IV.
v. 86.  The Ughi.]  Whoever is curious to know the habitations of
these and the other ancient Florentines, may consult G. Villani,
v. 91.  At the poop.]  Many editions read porta, "gate." -The
same metaphor is found in Aeschylus, Supp. 356, and is there also
scarce understood by the critics. [GREEK HERE] Respect these
wreaths, that crown your city's poop.
v. 99.  The gilded hilt and pommel.]  The symbols of knighthood
v. 100.  The column cloth'd with verrey.]  The arms of the Pigli.
v. 103.  With them.]  Either the Chiaramontesi, or the Tosinghi
one of which had committed a fraud in measuring out the wheat
from the public granary.  See Purgatory, Canto XII.  99
v. 109.  The bullets of bright gold.]  The arms of the Abbati, as
it is conjectured.
v. 110.  The sires of those.]  "Of the Visdomini, the Tosinghi
and the Cortigiani, who, being sprung from the founders of the
bishopric of Florence are the curators of its revenues, which
they do not spare, whenever it becomes vacant."
v. 113.  Th' o'erweening brood.]  The Adimari.  This family was
so little esteemed, that Ubertino Donato, who had married a
daughter of Bellincion Berti, himself indeed derived from the
same stock (see Note to Hell Canto XVI. 38.) was offended with
his father-in-law, for giving another of his daughters in
marriage to one of them.
v. 124.  The gateway.]  Landino refers this to the smallness of
the city: Vellutello, with less probability, to the simplicity of
the people in naming one of the gates after a private family.
v. 127.  The great baron.]  The Marchese Ugo, who resided at
Florence as lieutenant of the Emperor Otho III, gave many of the
chief families license to bear his arms.  See G. Villani, 1.  iv.
c. 2., where the vision is related, in consequence of which he
sold all his possessions in Germany, and founded seven abbeys, in
one whereof his memory was celebrated at Florence on St. Thomas's
v. 130.  One.]  Giano della Bella, belonging to one of the
families thus distinguished, who no longer retained his place
among the nobility, and had yet added to his arms a bordure or.
See Macchiavelli, 1st.  Fior. 1. ii. p. 86.  Ediz.  Giolito.
v. 132.  -Gualterotti dwelt
And Importuni.]
Two families in the compartment of the city called Borgo.
v. 135.  The house.]  Of Amidei.  See Notes to Canto XXVIII. of
Hell. v.  102.
v. 142.  To Ema.]  "It had been well for the city, if thy
ancestor had been drowned in the Ema, when he crossed that stream
on his way from Montebuono to Florence."
v. 144.  On that maim'd stone.]  See Hell, Canto XIII. 144. Near
the remains of the statue of Mars.  Buondelmonti was slain, as if
he had been a victim to the god; and Florence had not since known
the blessing of peace.
v. 150.  The lily.]  "The arms of Florence had never hung
reversed on the spear of her enemies, in token of her defeat; nor
been changed from argent to gules;" as they afterwards were, when
the Guelfi gained the predominance.
v. 1.  The youth.]  Phaeton, who came to his mother Clymene, to
inquire of her if he were indeed the son of Apollo.  See Ovid,
Met. 1. i. ad finem.
v. 6.  That saintly lamp.]  Cacciaguida.
v. 12.  To own thy thirst.]  "That thou mayst obtain from others
a solution of any doubt that may occur to thee."
v. 15.  Thou seest as clear.]  "Thou beholdest future events,
with the same clearness of evidence, that we discern the simplest
mathematical demonstrations."
v. 19.  The point.]  The divine nature.
v. 27.  The arrow.]
Nam praevisa minus laedere tela solent.
Che piaga antiveduta assai men duole.
Petrarca, Trionfo del Tempo
v. 38.  Contingency.]  "The evidence with which we see the future
portrayed in the source of all truth, no more necessitates that
future than does the image, reflected in the sight by a ship
sailing down a stream, necessitate the motion of the vessel."
v. 43.  From thence.]  "From the eternal sight; the view of the
v. 49.  There.]  At Rome, where the expulsion of Dante's party
from Florence was then plotting, in 1300.
v. 65.  Theirs.]  "They shall be ashamed of the part they have
taken aga'nst thee."
v. 69.  The great Lombard.]  Either Alberto della Scala, or
Bartolommeo his eldest son.  Their coat of arms was a ladder and
v. 75.  That mortal.]  Can Grande della Scala, born under the
influence of Mars, but at this time only nine years old
v. 80.  The Gascon.]  Pope Clement V.
v. 80.  Great Harry.]  The Emperor Henry VII.
v. 127.  The cry thou raisest.]  "Thou shalt stigmatize the
faults of those who are most eminent and powerful."
v. 3.  Temp'ring the sweet with bitter.]
Chewing the end of sweet and bitter fancy.
Shakespeare, As you Like it, a. 3.  s. 3.
v. 26.  On this fifth lodgment of the tree.]  Mars, the fifth ot
v. 37.  The great Maccabee.]  Judas Maccabeus.
v. 39.  Charlemagne.]  L. Pulci commends Dante for placing
Charlemagne and Orlando here:
Io mi confido ancor molto qui a Dante
Che non sanza cagion nel ciel su misse
Carlo ed Orlando in quelle croci sante,
Che come diligente intese e scrisse.
Morg. Magg.  c. 28.
v. 43.  William and Renard.]  Probably not, as the commentators
have imagined, William II of Orange, and his kinsman Raimbaud,
two of the crusaders under Godfrey of Bouillon, (Maimbourg, Hist.
des Croisades, ed. Par. 1682. 12mo. t. i. p. 96.) but rather the
two more celebrated heroes in the age of Charlemagne.  The
former, William l. of Orange, supposed to have been the founder
of the present illustrious family of that name, died about 808,
according to Joseph de la Piser, Tableau de l'Hist. des Princes
et Principante d'Orange. Our countryman, Ordericus Vitalis,
professes to give his true life, which had been misrepresented in
the songs of the itinerant bards."  Vulgo canitur a joculatoribus
de illo, cantilena; sed jure praeferenda est relatio
authentica."  Eccl.  Hist.  in Duchesne, Hist.  Normann Script.
p.  508. The latter is better known by having been celebrated by
Ariosto, under the name of Rinaldo.
v. 43.  Duke Godfey.]  Godfrey of Bouillon.
v. 46.  Robert Guiscard.]  See Hell, Canto XXVIII. v. 12.
v. 81.  The characters.]  Diligite justitiam qui judicatis
terrarm. "Love righteousness, ye that be judges of the earth "
Wisdom of  Solomon, c. i. 1.
v. 116.  That once more.]  "That he may again drive out those who
buy and sell in the temple."
v. 124.  Taking the bread away.]  "Excommunication, or the
interdiction of the Eucharist, is now employed as a weapon of
v. 126.  That writest but to cancel.]  "And thou, Pope Boniface,
who writest thy ecclesiastical censures for no other purpose than
to be  paid for revoking them."
v. 130.  To him.]  The coin of Florence was stamped with the
impression of John the Baptist.
v. 38.  Who turn'd his compass.]  Compare Proverbs, c. viii.  27.
And Milton, P. L. b. vii 224.
v. 42.  The Word]  "The divine nature still remained
incomprehensible. Of this Lucifer was a proof; for had he
thoroughly comprehended it, he would not have fallen."
v. 108.  The Ethiop.]  Matt.  c. xii.  41.
v. 112.  That volume.]  Rev. c. xx.  12.
v. 114.  Albert.]  Purgatory, Canto VI.  v. 98.
v. 116.  Prague.]  The eagle predicts the devastation of Bohemia
by Albert, which happened soon after this time, when that Emperor
obtained the kingdom for his eldest son Rodolph.  See Coxe's
House of Austria, 4to.  ed. v. i. part 1. p. 87
v. 117.  He.]  Philip IV of France, after the battle of Courtrai,
1302, in which the French were defeated by the Flemings, raised
the nominal value of the coin.  This king died in consequence of
his horse being thrown to the ground by a wild boar, in 1314
v. 121.  The English and Scot.]  He adverts to the disputes
between John Baliol and Edward I, the latter of whom is commended
in the Purgatory, Canto VII. v. 130.
v. 122.  The Spaniard's luxury.]  The commentators refer this to
Alonzo X of Spain.  It seems probable that the allusion is to
Ferdinand IV who came to the crown in 1295, and died in 1312, at
the age of twenty four, in consequence, as it was supposed, of
his extreme intemperance.
See Mariana, Hist I. xv.  c. 11.
v. 123.  The Bohemian.]  Winceslaus II.  Purgatory, Canto VII. v.
v. 125.  The halter of Jerusalem.]  Charles II of Naples and
Jerusalem who was lame.  See note to Purgatory, Canto VII.  v.
122, and XX. v. 78.
v. 127.  He.]  Frederick of Sicily son of Peter III of Arragon.
Purgatory, Canto VII.  v. 117.  The isle of fire is Sicily, where
was the tomb of Anchises.
v. 133.  His uncle.]  James, king of Majorca and Minorca, brother
to Peter III.
v. 133.  His brother.]  James II of Arragon, who died in 1327.
See Purgatory, Canto VII.  v. 117.
v. 135.  Of Portugal.]  In the time of Dante, Dionysius was king
of Portugal.  He died in 1328, after a reign of near forty-six
years, and does not seem to have deserved the stigma here
fastened on him. See Mariana. and 1. xv. c. 18.  Perhaps the
rebellious son of Dionysius may be alluded to.
v. 136.  Norway.]  Haquin, king of Norway, is probably meant;
who, having given refuge to the murderers of Eric VII king of
Denmark, A D. 1288, commenced a war against his successor, Erie
VIII, "which continued for nine years, almost to the utter ruin
and destruction of both kingdoms."  Modern Univ. Hist. v. xxxii
v. 136.  -Him
One of the dynasty of the house of Nemagna, which ruled the
kingdom of Rassia, or Ratza, in Sclavonia, from 1161 to 1371, and
whose history may be found in Mauro Orbino, Regno degli Slavi,
Ediz. Pesaro. 1601. Uladislaus appears to have been the sovereign
in Dante's time, but the disgraceful forgery adverted to in the
text, is not recorded by the historian v. 138.  Hungary.]  The
kingdom of Hungary was about this time disputed by Carobert, son
of Charles Martel, and Winceslaus, prince of Bohemia, son of
Winceslaus II.  See Coxe's House of Austria, vol. i. p. 1. p. 86.
v. 140.  Navarre.]  Navarre was now under the yoke of France.
 It soon after (in 1328) followed the advice of Dante and had a
monarch of its own.  Mariana, 1.  xv. c. 19.
v. 141.  Mountainous girdle.]  The Pyrenees.
v. 143.  -Famagosta's streets
And Nicosia's.]
Cities in the kingdom of Cyprus, at that time ruled by Henry II a
pusillanimous prince. Vertot.  Hist. des Chev.  de Malte, 1. iii.
iv. The meaning appears to be, that the complaints made by those
cities of their weak and worthless governor, may be regarded as
an earnest of his condemnation at the last doom.
v. 6.  Wherein one shines.]  The light of the sun, whence he
supposes the other celestial bodies to derive their light
v. 8.  The great sign.]  The eagle, the Imperial ensign.
v. 34.  Who.]  David.
v. 39.  He.]  Trajan.  See Purgatory, Canto X. 68.
v. 44.  He next.]  Hezekiah.
v. 50.  'The other following.]  Constantine.  There is no passage
in which Dante's opinion of the evil; that had arisen from the
mixture of the civil with the ecclesiastical power, is more
unequivocally  declared.
v. 57.  William.]  William II, king of Sicily, at the latter part
of  the twelfth century He was of the Norman line of sovereigns,
and obtained the appellation of "the Good" and, as the poet says
his loss was as much the subject of regret in his dominions, as
the presence of Charles I of Anjou and Frederick of Arragon, was
of sorrow and complaint.
v. 62.  Trojan Ripheus.]
Ripheus, justissimus unus
Qui fuit in Teneris, et servantissimus aequi.
Virg.  Aen.  1. ii. 4--.
v. 97.  This.]  Ripheus.
v. 98.  That.]  Trajan.
v. 103.  The prayers,] The prayers of St. Gregory
v. 119.  The three nymphs.]  Faith, Hope, and Charity. Purgatory,
Canto XXIX.  116.
v. 138.  The pair.]  Ripheus and Trajan.
v. 12.  The seventh splendour.]  The planet Saturn
v. 13.  The burning lion's breast.]  The constellation Leo.
v. 21.  In equal balance.]  "My pleasure was as great in
with her will as in beholding her countenance."
v. 24.  Of that lov'd monarch.]  Saturn.  Compare Hell, Canto
v. 56.  What forbade the smile.]  "Because it would have overcome
v. 61.  There aloft.]  Where the other souls were.
v. 97.  A stony ridge.]  The Apennine.
v. 112.  Pietro Damiano.]  "S. Pietro Damiano obtained a great
and well-merited reputation, by the pains he took to correct the
abuses among the clergy.  Ravenna is supposed to have been the
place of his birth, about 1007.  He was employed in several
important missions, and rewarded by Stephen IX with the dignity
of cardinal, and the bishopric of Ostia, to which, however, he
preferred his former retreat in the monastery of Fonte Aveliana,
and prevailed on Alexander II to permit him to retire thither.
Yet he did not long continue in this seclusion, before he was
sent on other embassies.  He died at Faenza in 1072.  His
letters throw much light on the obscure history of these times.
Besides them, he has left several treatises on sacred and
ecclesiastical subjects. His eloquence is worthy of a better
age."  Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett Ital. t. iii.  1. iv. c. 2.
v. 114.  Beside the Adriatic.]  At Ravenna.  Some editions have
FU instead of FUI, according to which reading, Pietro
distinguishes  himself from another Pietro, who was termed
"Peccator," the sinner.
v. 117.  The hat.]  The cardinal's hat.
v. 118.  Cephas.]  St. Peter.
v. 119 The Holy Spirit's vessel.]  St. Paul. See Hell, Canto II.
v. 130.  Round this.]  Round the spirit of Pietro Damiano.
v. 14.  The vengeance.]  Beatrice, it is supposed, intimates the
approaching fate of Boniface VIII.  See Purgatory, Canto XX.  86.
v. 36.  Cassino.]  A castle in the Terra di Lavoro.
v. 38.  I it was.]  "A new order of monks, which in a manner
absorbed all the others that were established in the west, was
instituted, A.D.  529, by Benedict of Nursis, a man of piety and
reputation for the age he  lived in."  Maclaine's Mosheim,
Eccles. Hist. v. ii.  cent. vi. p. 2. ch.  2 - 6.
v. 48.  Macarius.]  There are two of this name enumerated by
Mosheim among the Greek theologians of the fourth century, v. i.
cent. iv p. 11 ch. 2 - 9.  In the following chapter, 10, it is
said, "Macarius, an Egyptian monk, undoubtedly deserves the first
rank among the practical matters of this time, as his works
displayed, some few things excepted, the brightest and most
lovely portraiture of sanctity and virtue."
v. 48.  Romoaldo.]  S. Romoaldo, a native of Ravenna, and the
founder of the order of Camaldoli, died in 1027.  He was the
author of a commentary on the Psalms.
v. 70.  The patriarch Jacob.]  So Milton, P. L. b. iii. 510:
The stairs were such, as whereon Jacob saw
Angels ascending and descending, bands
Of guardians bright.
v. 107.  The sign.]  The constellation of Gemini.
v. 130. This globe.]  So Chaucer, Troilus and Cresseide, b. v,
And down from thence fast he gan avise
This little spot of earth, that with the sea
Embraced is, and fully gan despite
This wretched world.
Compare Cicero, Somn. Scip.  "Jam ipsa terra ita mihi parva visa
est." &c.  Lucan, Phar 1.  ix. 11;  and Tasso, G.  L.  c.  xiv.
st, 9, 10, 11.
v. 140.  Maia and Dione.]  The planets Mercury and Venus.
v. 11.  That region.]  Towards the south, where the course of the
sun appears less rapid, than, when he is in the east or the west.
v. 26.  Trivia.]  A name of Diana.
v. 26.  Th' eternal nymphs.]  The stars.
v. 36.  The Might.]  Our Saviour
v. 71.  The rose.]  The Virgin Mary.
v. 73.  The lilies.]  The apostles.
v. 84.  Thou didst exalt thy glory.]  The diving light retired
upwards, to render the eyes of Dante more capable of enduring the
spectacle  which now presented itself.
v. 86.  The name of that fair flower.]  The name of the Virgin.
v. 92.  A cresset.]  The angel Gabriel.
v. 98.  That lyre.]  By synecdoche, the lyre is put for the angel
v. 99.  The goodliest sapphire.]  The Virgin
v. 126.  Those rich-laden coffers.]  Those spirits who, having
sown the seed of good works on earth, now contain the fruit of
their pious endeavours.
v. 129.  In the Babylonian exile.]  During their abode in this
v. 133.  He.]  St. Peter, with the other holy men of the Old and
New testament.
v. 28.  Such folds.]  Pindar has the same bold image:
[GREEK HERE?]
On which Hayne strangely remarks:  Ad ambitus stropharum vldetur
v. 65.  Faith.]  Hebrews, c.  xi.  1.  So Marino, in one of his
sonnets, which calls Divozioni:
Fede e sustanza di sperate cose,
E delle non visioili argomento.
v. 82.  Current.]  "The answer thou hast made is right; but let
me know if thy inward persuasion is conformable to thy
profession."
v. 91.  The ancient bond and new.]  The Old and New Testament.
v. 114.  That Worthy.]  Quel Baron.
In the next Canto, St. James is called "Barone."  So in
Boccaccio, G. vi. N. 10, we find "Baron Messer Santo Antonio."
v. 124.  As to outstrip.]  Venturi insists that the Poet has
here, "made a slip;" for that John came first to the sepulchre,
though Peter was the first to enter it.  But let Dante have leave
to explain his own meaning, in a passage from his third book De
Monarchia:  "Dicit etiam Johannes ipsum (scilicet Petrum)
introiisse SUBITO, cum venit in monumentum, videns allum
discipulum cunctantem ad ostium." Opere de Dante, Ven. 1793. T.
v. 6.  The fair sheep-fold.]  Florence, whence he was banished.
v. 13.  For its sake.]  For the sake of that faith.
v. 20.  Galicia throng'd with visitants.] See Mariana, Hist. 1.
v. 13.  "En el tiempo," &c.  "At the time that the sepulchre of
the apostle St. James was discovered, the devotion for that place
extended itself not only over all Spain, but even round about to
foreign nations. Multitudes from all parts of the world came to
visit it.  Many others were deterred by the difficulty for the
journey, by the roughness and barrenness of those parts, and by
the incursions of the Moors, who made captives many of the
pilgrims.  The canons of St. Eloy afterwards (the precise time is
not known), with a desire of remedying these evils, built, in
many places, along the whole read, which reached as far as to
France, hospitals for the reception of the pilgrims."
v. 31.  Who.]  The Epistle of St. James is here attributed to the
elder apostle of that name, whose shrine was at Compostella, in
Galicia.  Which of the two was the author of it is yet doubtful.
The learned and candid Michaelis contends very forcibly for its
having been written by James the Elder.  Lardner rejects that
opinion as absurd; while Benson argues against it, but is well
answered by Michaelis, who after all, is obliged to leave the
question undecided.  See his Introduction to the New Testament,
translated by Dr. Marsh, ed.  Cambridge, 1793.  V. iv. c.  26.  -
v. 35.  As Jesus.]  In the transfiguration on Mount Tabor.
v. 39.  The second flame.]  St. James.
v. 40.  I lifted up.]  "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,
from whence cometh my help."  Ps.  Cxxi.  1.
v. 59.  From Egypt to Jerusalem.]  From the lower world to
v. 67.  Hope.]  This is from the Sentences of Petrus Lombardus.
"Est autem spes virtus, qua spiritualia et aeterna bona speratam,
id  est, beatitudinem aeternam.  Sine meritis enim aliquid
sperare non spes, sed praesumptio, dici potest."  Pet. Lomb.
Sent.  1.  Iii.  Dist.  26.   Ed. Bas.  1486.  Fol.
v. 74.  His anthem.]  Psalm ix.  10.
v. 90.  Isaias ]  Chap. lxi. 10.
v. 94.  Thy brother.]  St. John in the Revelation, c. vii.  9.
v. 101.  Winter's month.]  "If a luminary, like that which now
appeared, were to shine throughout the month following the winter
solstice during which the constellation Cancer appears in the
east at the setting of the sun, there would be no interruption to
the light, but the whole month would be as a single day."
v. 112.  This.]  St. John, who reclined on the bosom of our
Saviour, and to whose charge Jesus recommended his mother.
v. 121.  So I.]  He looked so earnestly, to descry whether St.
John were present there in body, or in spirit only, having had
his doubts raised  by that saying of our Saviour's:  "If I will,
that he tarry till I come  what is that to thee."
v. 127.  The two.]  Christ and Mary, whom he has described, in
the last Canto but one, as rising above his sight
v. 2.  The beamy flame.]  St. John.
v. 13.  Ananias' hand.]  Who, by putting his hand on St. Paul,
restored his sight.  Acts, c. ix.  17.
v. 36.  From him.]  Some suppose that Plato is here meant, who,
in his Banquet, makes Phaedrus say:  "Love is confessedly amongst
the eldest of beings, and, being the eldest, is the cause to us
of the greatest goods " Plat. Op. t. x. p. 177.  Bip.  ed. Others
have understood it of Aristotle, and others, of the writer who
goes by the name of Dionysius the Areopagite, referred to in the
twenty-eighth Canto.
v. 40.  I will make.]  Exodus, c. xxxiii. 19.
v. 42.  At the outset.]  John, c. i. 1.  &c.
v. 51.  The eagle of our Lord.]  St. John
v. 62.  The leaves.]  Created beings.
v. 82.  The first living soul.]  Adam.
v. 107.  Parhelion.]  Who enlightens and comprehends all things;
but is himself enlightened and comprehended by none.
v. 117.  Whence.]  That is, from Limbo.  See Hell, Canto II.  53.
Adam says that 5232 years elapsed from his creation to the time
of his deliverance, which followed the death of Christ.
v. 133.  EL]  Some read UN, "One," instead of EL:  but the latter
of these readings is confirmed by a passage from Dante's Treatise
De Vulg. Eloq. 1. i. cap. 4. "Quod prius vox primi loquentis
sonaverit, viro sanae mentis in promptu esse non dubito ipsum
fuisse quod Deus est, videlicet El."  St. Isidore in the
Origines, 1.  vii. c. 1. had said, "Primum apud Hebraeos Dei
nomen El dicitur."
v. 135.  Use.]  From Horace, Ars. Poet. 62.
v. 138.  All my life.]  "I remained in the terrestrial Paradise
only tothe seventh hour."  In the Historia Scolastica of Petrus
Comestor, it is said of our first parents:  Quidam tradunt eos
fuisse in Paradiso septem horae."  I. 9. ed. Par. 1513. 4to.
v.  1.  Four torches.]  St. Peter, St. James, St. John, and Adam.
v. 11.  That.]  St. Peter' who looked as the planet Jupiter
would, if it assumed the sanguine appearance of liars.
v. 20.  He.]  Boniface VIII.
v. 26.  such colour.]
Qui color infectis adversi solis ab ietu
Nubibus esse solet; aut purpureae Aurorae.
Ovid, Met.  1. iii. 184.
v. 37.  Of Linus and of Cletus.]  Bishops of Rome in the first
v. 40.  Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed
The former two, bishops of the same see, in the second; and the
others, in the fourth century.
v. 42.  No purpose was of ours.]  "We did not intend that our
successors should take any part in the political divisions among
Christians, or that my figure (the seal of St. Peter) should
serve as a mark to authorize iniquitous grants and privileges."
v. 51.  Wolves.]  Compare Milton, P. L. b. xii. 508, &c.
v. 53.  Cahorsines and Gascons.]  He alludes to Jacques d'Ossa, a
native of Cahors, who filled the papal chair in 1316, after it
had been two years vacant, and assumed the name of John XXII.,
and to Clement V, a Gascon, of whom see Hell, Canto XIX. 86, and
v. 63.  The she-goat.]  When the sun is in Capricorn.
v. 72.  From the hour.]  Since he had last looked (see Canto
XXII.) he perceived that he had passed from the meridian circle
to the eastern horizon, the half of our hemisphere, and a quarter
of the heaven.
v. 76.  From Gades.]  See Hell, Canto XXVI. 106
v. 78.  The shore.]  Phoenicia, where Europa, the daughter of
Agenor mounted on the back of Jupiter, in his shape of a bull.
v. 80.  The sun.]  Dante was in the constellation Gemini, and the
sun  in Aries.  There was, therefore, part of those two
constellations, and the whole of Taurus, between them.
v. 93.  The fair nest of Leda.]  "From the Gemini;" thus called,
because Leda was the mother of the twins, Castor and Pollux
v. 112.  Time's roots.]  "Here," says Beatrice, "are the roots,
from whence time springs: for the parts, into which it is
divided, the other heavens must be considered."  And she then
breaks out into an exclamation on the degeneracy of human nature,
which does not lift itself to the contemplation of divine things.
v. 126.  The fair child of him.]  So she calls human nature.
Pindar by a more easy figure, terms the day, "child of the sun."
v. 129.  None.]  Because, as has been before said, the shepherds
are become wolves.
v. 131.  Before the date.]  "Before many ages are past, before
those fractions, which are drops in the reckoning of every year,
shall amount to so large a portion of time, that January shall be
no more a winter month." By this periphrasis is meant " in a
short time," as we say familiarly, such a thing will happen
before a thousand years are over when we mean, it will happen
v. 135.  Fortune shall be fain.]  The commentators in general
suppose that our Poet here augurs that great reform, which he
vainly hoped would follow on the arrival of the Emperor Henry
VII. in Italy. Lombardi refers the prognostication to Can Grande
della Scala: and, when we consider that this Canto was not
finished till after the death of  Henry, as appears from the
mention that is made of John XXII, it cannot be denied but the
conjecture is probable.
CANTO XXVIII
v. 36.  Heav'n, and all nature, hangs upon that point.]  [GREEK
Aristot. Metaph. 1. xii. c. 7.  "From that beginning depend
heaven and nature."
v. 43.  Such diff'rence.]  The material world and the
intelligential (the copy and the pattern) appear to Dante to
differ in this respect, that the orbits of the latter are more
swift, the nearer they are to the centre, whereas the contrary is
the case with the orbits of the former. The seeming contradiction
is thus accounted for by Beatrice.  In the material world, the
more ample the body is, the greater is the good of which itis
capable supposing all the parts to be equally perfect. But in the
intelligential world, the circles are more excellent and
powerful, the more they approximate to the central point, which
is God.  Thus the first circle, that of the seraphim, corresponds
to the ninth sphere, or primum mobile, the second, that of the
cherubim, to the eighth sphere, or heaven of fixed stars; the
third, or circle of thrones, to the seventh sphere, or planet of
Saturn; and in like manner throughout the two other trines of
circles and spheres.
Of circuit inexpressible they stood,
Orb within orb
Milton, P. L. b. v. 596.
v. 70.  The sturdy north.]  Compare Homer, II. b. v. 524.
v. 82.  In number.]  The sparkles exceeded the number which would
be produced by the sixty-four squares of a chess-board, if for
the first we reckoned one, for the next, two; for the third,
four; and so went on doubling to the end of the account.
v. 106.  Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram.]  Not
injured, like the productions of our spring, by the influence of
autumn, when the constellation Aries rises at sunset.
v. 110.  Dominations.]
Hear all ye angels, progeny of light,
Thrones, domination's, princedoms, virtues, powers.
Milton, P. L. b. v. 601.
v. 119.  Dionysius.]  The Areopagite, in his book De Caelesti
v. 124.  Gregory.]  Gregory the Great.  "Novem vero angelorum
ordines diximus, quia videlicet esse, testante sacro eloquio,
scimus: Angelos, archangelos, virtutes, potestates, principatus,
dominationae, thronos, cherubin atque seraphin."  Divi Gregorii,
Hom. xxxiv. f. 125.  ed. Par. 1518. fol.
v. 126.  He had learnt.]  Dionysius, he says, had learnt from St.
Paul. It is almost unnecessary to add, that the book, above
referred to, which goes under his name, was the production of a
v. 1.  No longer.]  As short a space, as the sun and moon are in
changing hemispheres, when they are opposite to one another, the
one under the sign of Aries, and the other under that of Libra,
and both hang for a moment, noised as it were in the hand of the
v. 22.  For, not in process of before or aft.]  There was neither
"before nor after," no distinction, that is, of time, till the
creation of the world.
v. 30.  His threefold operation.]  He seems to mean that
spiritual beings, brute matter, and the intermediate part of the
creation, which participates both of spirit and matter, were
produced at once.
v. 38.  On Jerome's pages.]  St. Jerome had described the angels
as created before the rest of the universe: an opinion which
Thomas  Aquinas controverted; and the latter, as Dante thinks,
had Scripture on his side.
v. 51.  Pent.]  See Hell, Canto XXXIV. 105.
v. 111.  Of Bindi and of Lapi.]  Common names of men at Florence
v. 112.  The sheep.]  So Milton, Lycidas.
The hungry sheep look up and are not fed,
But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw,
Rot inwardly.
v. 121.  The preacher.] Thus Cowper, Task, b.  ii.
'Tis pitiful
To court a grin, when you should woo a soul, &c.
v. 131.  Saint Anthony.
Fattens with this his swine.]
On the sale of these blessings, the brothers of St. Anthony
supported themselves and their paramours.  From behind the swine
of St. Anthony, our Poet levels a blow at the object of his
inveterate enmity, Boniface VIII, from whom, "in 1297, they
obtained the dignity and privileges of an independent
congregation."  See Mosheim's Eccles. History in Dr. Maclaine's
Translation, v. ii.  cent. xi. p. 2. c. 2.  - 28.
v. 140.  Daniel.]  "Thousand thousands ministered unto him, and
ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him."  Dan. c. vii.
v. 1.  Six thousand miles.]  He compares the vanishing of the
vision to the fading away of the stars at dawn, when it is
noon-day six thousand miles off, and the shadow, formed by the
earth over the part of it inhabited by the Poet, is about to
v. 13.  Engirt.]  " ppearing to be encompassed by these angelic
bands, which are in reality encompassed by it."
v. 18.  This turn.]  Questa vice.
Hence perhaps Milton, P. L. b. viii. 491.
This turn hath made amends.
v. 39.  Forth.]  From the ninth sphere to the empyrean, which is
v. 44.  Either mighty host.]  Of angels, that remained faithful,
and of beatified souls, the latter in that form which they will
have at the last day.
v. 61.  Light flowing.]  "And he showed me a pure river of water
of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God
and of the Lamb." Rev. cxxii. I.
--underneath a bright sea flow'd
Of jasper, or of liquid pearl.
Milton, P. L. b. iii.  518.
v. 80.  Shadowy of the truth.]
Son di lor vero ombriferi prefazii.
So Mr. Coleridge, in his Religious Musings, v. 406.
Life is a vision shadowy of truth.
v. 88.  --the eves
Of mine eyelids.]
Thus Shakespeare calls the eyelids "penthouse lids." Macbeth, a,
v. 108.  As some cliff.]
That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd
Her crystal mirror holds.
Milton, P. L. b. iv.  263.
v. 118.  My view with ease.]
Far and wide his eye commands
For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, But all sunshine.
Milton, P. l. b. iii.  616.
v. 135.  Of the great Harry.]  The Emperor Henry VII, who died in
v. 141.  He.]  Pope Clement V. See Canto XXVII.  53.
v. 145.  Alagna's priest.]  Pope Boniface VIII.  Hell, Canto XIX.
v. 6.  Bees.]  Compare Homer, Iliad, ii.  87. Virg.  Aen. I. 430,
and Milton, P. L. b. 1.  768.
v. 29.  Helice.]  Callisto, and her son Arcas, changed into the
constellations of the Greater Bear and Arctophylax, or Bootes.
See Ovid, Met.  l. ii. fab. v. vi.
v. 93.  Bernard.]  St. Bernard, the venerable abbot of Clairvaux,
and the great promoter of the second crusade, who died A.D. 1153,
in his sixty-third year.  His sermons are called by Henault,
"chefs~d'oeuvres de sentiment et de force."  Abrege Chron. de
l'Hist.  de Fr. 1145. They have even been preferred to al1 the
productions of the ancients, and the author has been termed the
last of the fathers of the church. It is uncertain whether they
were not delivered originally in the French tongue.
That the part he acts in the present Poem should be assigned to
him. appears somewhat remarkable, when we consider that he
severely censured the new festival established in honour of the
Immaculate Conception of the virgin, and opposed the doctrine
itself with the greatest vigour, as it supposed her being
honoured with a privilegewhich belonged to Christ Alone Dr.
Maclaine's Mosheim, v. iii. cent. xii. p. ii. c. 3 - 19.
v. 95.  Our Veronica ] The holy handkerchief, then preserved at
Rome, on which the countenance of our Saviour was supposed to
have been imprest.
v. 101.  Him.]  St. Bernard.
v. 108.  The queen.]  The Virgin Mary.
v. 119.  Oriflamb.]  Menage on this word quotes the Roman des
-Iignages of Guillaume Ghyart.
Oriflamme est une banniere
De cendal roujoyant et simple
Sans portraiture d'autre affaire,
v. 3.  She.]  Eve.
v. 8.  Ancestress.]  Ruth, the ancestress of David.
v. 60.  In holy scripture.]  Gen. c. xxv.  22.
v. 123.  Lucia.]  See Hell, Canto II.  97.
CANTO XXXIII
v. 63.  The Sybil's sentence.]  Virg.  Aen.  iii. 445.
v. 89.  One moment.]  "A moment seems to me more tedious, than
five-and-twenty ages would have appeared to the Argonauts, when
they had resolved on their expedition.
v. 92.  Argo's shadow]
Quae simul ac rostro ventosnm proscidit aequor,
Tortaque remigio spumis incanduit unda,
Emersere feri candenti e gurgite vultus
Aequoreae monstrum Nereides admirantes.
Catullus, De Nupt.  Pel.  et Thet.  15.
v. 109.  Three orbs of triple hue, clipt in one bound.]  The
v. 118.  That circling.]  The second of the circles, "Light of
Light," in which he dimly beheld the mystery of the incarnation.
End Paradise.
In the years 1805 and 1806, I published the first part of the
following translation, with the text of the original.  Since that
period, two impressions of the whole of the Divina Commedia, in
Italian, have made their appearance in this country.  It is not
necessary that I should add a third: and I am induced to hope
that the Poem, even in the present version of it, may not be
without interest for the mere English reader.
The translation of the second and third parts, "The Purgatory"
and "The Paradise," was begun long before the first, and as early
as the year 1797; but, owing to many interruptions, not concluded
till the summer before last.  On a retrospect of the time and
exertions that have been thus employed, I do not regard those
hours as the least happy of my  life, during which (to use the
eloquent language of Mr. Coleridge) "my individual recollections
have been suspended, and lulled to sleep amid the music of nobler
thoughts;"  nor that study as misapplied, which has familiarized
me with one of the sublimest efforts of the human invention.
To those, who shall be at the trouble of examining into the
degree of accuracy with which the task has been executed, I may
be allowed to suggest, that their judgment should not be formed
on a comparison with any single text of my Author; since, in more
instances than I have noticed, I have had to make my choice out
of a variety of readings and interpretations, presented by
different editions and commentators.
In one or two of those editions is to be found the title of "The
Vision," which I have adopted, as more conformable to the genius
of our language than that of "The Divine Comedy."  Dante himself,
I believe, termed it simply "The Comedy;" in the first place,
because the style was of the middle kind:  and in the next,
because the story (if story it may be called) ends happily.
Instead of a Life of my Author, I have subjoined, in
chronological order, a view not only of the principal events
which befell him, but of the chief public occurrences that
happened in his time:  concerning both of which the reader may
obtain further information, by turning to the passages referred
to in the Poem and Notes.
January, 1814
          A CHRONOLOGICAL VIEW
                      OF
              THE AGE OF DANTE
1265.  Dante, son of Alighieri degli Alighieri and Bella, is born
at Florence.
Of his own ancestry he speaks in the Paradise, Canto XV. and XVI.
In the same year, Manfredi, king of Naples and Sicily, is
defeated and slain by Charles of Anjou.  Hell, C. XXVIII. 13.
And Purgatory, C. III. 110.
Guido Novello of Polenta obtains the sovereignty of Ravenna.
H. C. XXVII. 38.
1266.  Two of the Frati Godenti chosen arbitrators of the
differences at Florence.  H. C. XXIII. 104.
Gianni de' Soldanieri heads the populace in that city.  H. C.
1268.  Charles of Anjou puts Conradine to death, and becomes King
of Naples.  H. C. XXVIII. 16 and Purg C. XX. 66.
1272.  Henry III. of England is succeeded by Edward I. Purg. C.
1274.  Our Poet first sees Beatrice, daughter of Folco Portinari.
Guittone d'Arezzo, the poet, dies.  Purg. C. XXIV. 56.
Thomas Aquinas dies.  Purg. C. XX. 67.  and Par. C. X. 96.
Buonaventura dies.  Par. C. XII. 25.
1275.  Pierre de la Brosse, secretary to Philip III. of France,
executed.  Purg. C. VI. 23.
1276.  Giotto, the painter, is born.  Purg. C. XI. 95.  Pope
Adrian V. dies.  Purg. C. XIX. 97.
Guido Guinicelli, the poet, dies.  Purg. C. XI. 96. and C. XXVI.
1277.  Pope John XXI.  dies.  Par. C. XII. 126.
1278.  Ottocar, king of Bohemia, dies.  Purg. C. VII. 97.
1279.  Dionysius succeeds to the throne of Portugal.  Par. C.
1280.  Albertus Magnus dies.  Par. C. X. 95.
1281.  Pope Nicholas III. dies.  H. C. XIX 71.
Dante studies at the universities of Bologna and Padua.
1282.  The Sicilian vespers.  Par. C. VIII. 80.
The French defeated by the people of Forli.  H. C. XXVII. 41.
Tribaldello de' Manfredi betrays the city of Faenza.  H. C.
1284.  Prince Charles of Anjou is defeated and made prisoner by
de Lauria, admiral to Peter III. of Arragon.  Purg. C. XX. 78.
Charles I.  king of Naples, dies.  Purg. C. VII. 111.
1285.  Pope Martin IV.  dies.  Purg. C. XXIV. 23.
Philip III.  of France, and Peter III.  of Arragon, die. Purg. C.
VII. 101 and
Henry II. king of Cyprus, comes to the throne.  Par. C. XIX. 144.
1287.  Guido dalle Colonne (mentioned by Dante in his De Vulgari
Eloquio) writes "The War of Troy."
1288.  Haquin, king of Norway, makes war on Denmark.  Par. C.
Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi dies of famine.  H. C. XXXIII. 14.
1289.  Dante is in the battle of Campaldino, where the
Florentines defeat the people of Arezzo, June 11. Purg. C. V. 90.
1290.  Beatrice dies.  Purg. C. XXXII. 2.
He serves in the war waged by the Florentines upon the Pisans,
and is present at the surrender of Caprona in the autumn.  H. C.
1291.  He marries Gemma de' Donati, with whom he lives unhappily.
By this marriage he had five sons and a daughter.
Can Grande della Scala is born, March 9.  H. C. I. 98. Purg. C.
XX. 16.  Par. C. XVII. 75. and XXVII. 135.
The renegade Christians assist the Saracens to recover St. John
D'Acre.  H. C. XXVII. 84.
The Emperor Rodolph dies.  Purg. C. VI. 104. and VII. 91.
Alonzo III.  of Arragon dies, and is succeeded by James II.
Purg. C. VII. 113. and Par. C. XIX. 133.
1294.  Clement V.  abdicates the papal chair.  H. C. III. 56.
Dante writes his Vita Nuova.
1295.  His preceptor, Brunetto Latini, dies.  H.  C. XV. 28.
Charles Martel, king of Hungary, visits Florence, Par.  C. VIII.
57. and dies in the same year.
Frederick, son of Peter III. of Arragon, becomes king of Sicily.
Purg. C. VII. 117. and Par. C. XIX. 127.
1296.  Forese, the companion of Dante, dies. Purg. C. XXXIII. 44.
1300.  The Bianca and Nera parties take their rise in Pistoia.
H. C. XXXII. 60.
This is the year in which he supposes himself to see his Vision.
H. C. I. 1. and XXI. 109.
He is chosen chief magistrate, or first of the Priors of
Florence; and continues in office from June 15 to August 15.
Cimabue, the painter, dies.  Purg. C. XI. 93.
Guido Cavalcanti, the most beloved of our Poet's friends, dies.
H. C. X. 59. and Purg  C. XI. 96.
1301.  The Bianca party expels the Nera from Pistoia.  H. C.
1302.  January 27.  During his absence at Rome, Dante is mulcted
by his fellow-citizens in the sum of 8000 lire, and condemned to
two years' banishment.
March 10.  He is sentenced, if taken, to be burned.
Fulcieri de' Calboli commits great atrocities on certain of the
Ghibelline party.  Purg. C. XIV. 61.
Carlino de' Pazzi betrays the castle di Piano Travigne, in
Valdarno, to the Florentines.  H. C. XXXII. 67.
The French vanquished in the battle of Courtrai. Purg. C. XX. 47.
James, king of Majorca and Minorca, dies.  Par. C. XIX. 133.
1303.  Pope Boniface VIII.  dies.  H. C. XIX. 55.  Purg.  C. XX.
146. and Par. C. XXVII. 20.
The other exiles appoint Dante one of a council of twelve, under
Alessandro da Romena.
He appears to have been much dissatisfied with his colleagues.
Par. C. XVII. 61.
1304.  He joins with the exiles in an unsuccessful attack on the
city of Florence.
May.  The bridge over the Arno breaks down during a
representation of the infernal torments exhibited on that river.
H. C. XXVI.  9.
July 20.  Petrarch, whose father had been banished two years
before from Florence, is born at Arezzo.
1305.  Winceslaus II.  king of Bohemia, dies.  Purg. C. VII. 99.
and Par. C. XIX 123.
A conflagration happens at Florence.  H. C. XXVI. 9.
1306.  Dante visits Padua.
1307.  He is in Lunigiana with the Marchese Marcello Malaspina.
Purg. C. VIII. 133.  and C. XIX. 140.
Dolcino, the fanatic, is burned.  H. C. XXVIII. 53.
1308.  The Emperor Albert I.  murdered.  Purg. C. VI. 98. and
Par. C. XIX. 114.
Corso Donati, Dante's political enemy, slain.  Purg. C. XXIV. 81.
He seeks an asylum at Verona, under the roof of the Signori della
Scala.  Par. C. XVII. 69.  He wanders, about this time, over
various parts of Italy.  See his Convito.  He is at Paris twice;
and, as one of the early commentators reports, at Oxford.
1309.  Charles II. king of Naples, dies.  Par. C. XIX. 125.
1310.  The Order of the Templars abolished.  Purg. C. XX. 94.
1313.  The Emperor Henry of Luxemburg, by whom he had hoped to be
restored to Florence, dies.  Par. C. XVII. 80.  and XXX. 135.
He takes refuge at Ravenna with Guido Novello da Polenta.
1314.  Pope Clement V. dies.  H. C. XIX. 86.  and
Par. C. XXVII. 53.  and XXX. 141.
Philip IV.  of France dies.  Purg. C. VII. 108. and Par. C. XIX.
Ferdinand IV.  of Spain, dies.  Par.  C.  XIX.  122.
Giacopo da Carrara defeated by Can Grande.  Par. C. IX. 45.
1316.  John XXII. elected Pope.  Par. C. XXVII. 53.
1321.  July.  Dante dies at Ravenna, of a complaint brought on by
disappointment at his failure in a negotiation which he had been
conducting with the Venetians, for his patron Guido Novello da
His obsequies are sumptuously performed at Ravenna by Guido, who
himself died in the ensuing year.
THE DIVINE COMEDY
OF DANTE ALIGHIERI
TRANSLATED BY
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
The base text for this edition has been provided by Digital Dante,
a project sponsored by Columbia University's Institute for Learning
Technologies.  Specific thanks goes to Jennifer Hogan (Project
Editor/Director), Tanya Larkin (Assistant to Editor), Robert W. Cole
(Proofreader/Assistant Editor), and Jennifer Cook (Proofreader).
The Digital Dante Project is a digital 'study space' for Dante studies and
scholarship.  The project is multi-faceted and fluid by nature of the Web.
Digital Dante attempts to organize the information most significant for
students first engaging with Dante and scholars researching Dante.  The
digital of Digital Dante incurs a new challenge to the student, the
scholar, and teacher, perusing the Web: to become proficient in the new
tools, e.g., Search, the Discussion Group, well enough to look beyond the
technology and delve into the content.  For more information and access to
the project, please visit its web site at:
http://www.ilt.columbia.edu/projects/dante/
For this Project Gutenberg edition the e-text was rechecked.  The editor
greatly thanks Dian McCarthy for her assistance in proofreading the
Paradiso.  Also deserving praise are Herbert Fann for programming the text
editor "Desktop Tools/Edit" and the late August Dvorak for designing his
keyboard layout.  Please refer to Project Gutenberg's e-text listings for
other editions or translations of 'The Divine Comedy.'  Please refer to
the end of this file for supplemental materials.
Dennis McCarthy, July 1997
imprimatur@juno.com
     I. The Dark Forest.  The Hill of Difficulty.  The Panther,
        the Lion, and the Wolf.  Virgil.
    II. The Descent.  Dante's Protest and Virgil's Appeal.
        The Intercession of the Three Ladies Benedight.
   III. The Gate of Hell.  The Inefficient or Indifferent.
        Pope Celestine V.  The Shores of Acheron.  Charon.
        The Earthquake and the Swoon.
    IV. The First Circle, Limbo: Virtuous Pagans and the Unbaptized.
        The Four Poets, Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Lucan.  The Noble
        Castle of Philosophy.
     V. The Second Circle: The Wanton.  Minos.  The Infernal Hurricane.
        Francesca da Rimini.
    VI. The Third Circle: The Gluttonous.  Cerberus.  The Eternal Rain.
        Ciacco.  Florence.
   VII. The Fourth Circle: The Avaricious and the Prodigal.
        Plutus.  Fortune and her Wheel.  The Fifth Circle:
        The Irascible and the Sullen.  Styx.
  VIII. Phlegyas.  Philippo Argenti.  The Gate of the City of Dis.
    IX. The Furies and Medusa.  The Angel.  The City of Dis.
        The Sixth Circle: Heresiarchs.
     X. Farinata and Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti.  Discourse on the
        Knowledge of the Damned.
    XI. The Broken Rocks.  Pope Anastasius.  General Description of
        the Inferno and its Divisions.
   XII. The Minotaur.  The Seventh Circle: The Violent.
        The River Phlegethon.  The Violent against their Neighbours.
        The Centaurs.  Tyrants.
  XIII. The Wood of Thorns.  The Harpies.  The Violent
        against themselves.  Suicides.  Pier della Vigna.
        Lano and Jacopo da Sant' Andrea.
   XIV. The Sand Waste and the Rain of Fire.  The Violent against God.
        Capaneus.  The Statue of Time, and the Four Infernal Rivers.
    XV. The Violent against Nature.  Brunetto Latini.
   XVI. Guidoguerra, Aldobrandi, and Rusticucci.  Cataract of
        the River of Blood.
  XVII. Geryon.  The Violent against Art.  Usurers.  Descent into
        the Abyss of Malebolge.
 XVIII. The Eighth Circle, Malebolge: The Fraudulent and
        the Malicious.  The First Bolgia: Seducers and Panders.
        Venedico Caccianimico.  Jason.  The Second Bolgia:
        Flatterers.  Allessio Interminelli.  Thais.
   XIX. The Third Bolgia: Simoniacs.  Pope Nicholas III.
        Dante's Reproof of corrupt Prelates.
    XX. The Fourth Bolgia: Soothsayers.  Amphiaraus, Tiresias, Aruns,
        Manto, Eryphylus, Michael Scott, Guido Bonatti, and Asdente.
        Virgil reproaches Dante's Pity.  Mantua's Foundation.
   XXI. The Fifth Bolgia: Peculators.  The Elder of Santa Zita.
        Malacoda and other Devils.
  XXII. Ciampolo, Friar Gomita, and Michael Zanche.
        The Malabranche quarrel.
 XXIII. Escape from the Malabranche.  The Sixth Bolgia: Hypocrites.
        Catalano and Loderingo.  Caiaphas.
  XXIV. The Seventh Bolgia: Thieves.  Vanni Fucci.  Serpents.
   XXV. Vanni Fucci's Punishment.  Agnello Brunelleschi,
        Buoso degli Abati, Puccio Sciancato, Cianfa de' Donati,
        and Guercio Cavalcanti.
  XXVI. The Eighth Bolgia: Evil Counsellors.  Ulysses and Diomed.
        Ulysses' Last Voyage.
 XXVII. Guido da Montefeltro.  His deception by Pope Boniface VIII.
XXVIII. The Ninth Bolgia: Schismatics.  Mahomet and Ali.
        Pier da Medicina, Curio, Mosca, and Bertrand de Born.
  XXIX. Geri del Bello.  The Tenth Bolgia: Alchemists.
        Griffolino d' Arezzo and Capocchino.
   XXX. Other Falsifiers or Forgers.  Gianni Schicchi, Myrrha,
        Adam of Brescia, Potiphar's Wife, and Sinon of Troy.
  XXXI. The Giants, Nimrod, Ephialtes, and Antaeus.
        Descent to Cocytus.
 XXXII. The Ninth Circle: Traitors.  The Frozen Lake of Cocytus.
        First Division, Caina: Traitors to their Kindred.
        Camicion de' Pazzi.  Second Division, Antenora:
        Traitors to their Country.  Dante questions
        Bocca degli Abati.  Buoso da Duera.
XXXIII. Count Ugolino and the Archbishop Ruggieri.  The Death
        of Count Ugolino's Sons.  Third Division of the Ninth Circle,
        Ptolomaea: Traitors to their Friends.  Friar Alberigo,
        Branco d' Oria.
 XXXIV. Fourth Division of the Ninth Circle, the Judecca:
        Traitors to their Lords and Benefactors.  Lucifer,
        Judas Iscariot, Brutus, and Cassius. The Chasm of Lethe.
        The Ascent.
     I. The Shores of Purgatory.  The Four Stars.  Cato of Utica.
        The Rush.
    II. The Celestial Pilot.  Casella.  The Departure.
   III. Discourse on the Limits of Reason.  The Foot of the Mountain.
        Those who died in Contumacy of Holy Church.  Manfredi.
    IV. Farther Ascent.  Nature of the Mountain.  The Negligent,
        who postponed Repentance till the last Hour.  Belacqua.
     V. Those who died by Violence, but repentant.
        Buonconte di Monfeltro.  La Pia.
    VI. Dante's Inquiry on Prayers for the Dead.  Sordello.  Italy.
   VII. The Valley of Flowers.  Negligent Princes.
  VIII. The Guardian Angels and the Serpent.  Nino di Gallura.
        The Three Stars.  Currado Malaspina.
    IX. Dante's Dream of the Eagle.  The Gate of Purgatory and
        the Angel.  Seven P's.  The Keys.
     X. The Needle's Eye.  The First Circle: The Proud.
        The Sculptures on the Wall.
    XI. The Humble Prayer.  Omberto di Santafiore.
        Oderisi d' Agobbio.  Provenzan Salvani.
   XII. The Sculptures on the Pavement.  Ascent to the Second Circle.
  XIII. The Second Circle: The Envious.  Sapia of Siena.
   XIV. Guido del Duca and Renier da Calboli.  Cities of
        the Arno Valley.  Denunciation of Stubbornness.
    XV. The Third Circle: The Irascible.  Dante's Visions.  The Smoke.
   XVI. Marco Lombardo.  Lament over the State of the World.
  XVII. Dante's Dream of Anger.  The Fourth Circle: The Slothful.
        Virgil's Discourse of Love.
 XVIII. Virgil further discourses of Love and Free Will.
        The Abbot of San Zeno.
   XIX. Dante's Dream of the Siren.  The Fifth Circle:
        The Avaricious and Prodigal.  Pope Adrian V.
    XX. Hugh Capet.  Corruption of the French Crown.
        Prophecy of the Abduction of Pope Boniface VIII and
        the Sacrilege of Philip the Fair.  The Earthquake.
   XXI. The Poet Statius.  Praise of Virgil.
  XXII. Statius' Denunciation of Avarice.  The Sixth Circle:
        The Gluttonous.  The Mystic Tree.
 XXIII. Forese.  Reproof of immodest Florentine Women.
  XXIV. Buonagiunta da Lucca.  Pope Martin IV, and others.
        Inquiry into the State of Poetry.
   XXV. Discourse of Statius on Generation.  The Seventh Circle:
        The Wanton.
  XXVI. Sodomites.  Guido Guinicelli and Arnaldo Daniello.
 XXVII. The Wall of Fire and the Angel of God.  Dante's Sleep
        upon the Stairway, and his Dream of Leah and Rachel.
        Arrival at the Terrestrial Paradise.
XXVIII. The River Lethe.  Matilda.  The Nature of
        the Terrestrial Paradise.
  XXIX. The Triumph of the Church.
   XXX. Virgil's Departure.  Beatrice.  Dante's Shame.
  XXXI. Reproaches of Beatrice and Confession of Dante.
        The Passage of Lethe.  The Seven Virtues.  The Griffon.
 XXXII. The Tree of Knowledge.  Allegory of the Chariot.
XXXIII. Lament over the State of the Church.  Final Reproaches
        of Beatrice.  The River Eunoe.
     I. The Ascent to the First Heaven.  The Sphere of Fire.
    II. The First Heaven, the Moon: Spirits who, having taken
        Sacred Vows, were forced to violate them.  The Lunar Spots.
   III. Piccarda Donati and the Empress Constance.
    IV. Questionings of the Soul and of Broken Vows.
     V. Discourse of Beatrice on Vows and Compensations.
        Ascent to the Second Heaven, Mercury: Spirits who for
        the Love of Fame achieved great Deeds.
    VI. Justinian.  The Roman Eagle.  The Empire.  Romeo.
   VII. Beatrice's Discourse of the Crucifixion, the Incarnation,
        the Immortality of the Soul, and the Resurrection of the Body.
  VIII. Ascent to the Third Heaven, Venus: Lovers.  Charles Martel.
        Discourse on diverse Natures.
    IX. Cunizza da Romano, Folco of Marseilles, and Rahab.
        Neglect of the Holy Land.
     X. The Fourth Heaven, the Sun: Theologians and Fathers of
        the Church.  The First Circle.  St. Thomas of Aquinas.
    XI. St. Thomas recounts the Life of St. Francis.  Lament over
        the State of the Dominican Order.
   XII. St. Buonaventura recounts the Life of St. Dominic.  Lament
        over the State of the Franciscan Order.  The Second Circle.
  XIII. Of the Wisdom of Solomon.  St. Thomas reproaches
        Dante's Judgement.
   XIV. The Third Circle.  Discourse on the Resurrection of the Flesh.
        The Fifth Heaven, Mars: Martyrs and Crusaders who died fighting
        for the true Faith.  The Celestial Cross.
    XV. Cacciaguida.  Florence in the Olden Time.
   XVI. Dante's Noble Ancestry.  Cacciaguida's Discourse of
        the Great Florentines.
  XVII. Cacciaguida's Prophecy of Dante's Banishment.
 XVIII. The Sixth Heaven, Jupiter: Righteous Kings and Rulers.
        The Celestial Eagle.  Dante's Invectives against
        ecclesiastical Avarice.
   XIX. The Eagle discourses of Salvation, Faith, and Virtue.
        Condemnation of the vile Kings of A.D. 1300.
    XX. The Eagle praises the Righteous Kings of old.
        Benevolence of the Divine Will.
   XXI. The Seventh Heaven, Saturn: The Contemplative.
        The Celestial Stairway.  St. Peter Damiano.  His Invectives
        against the Luxury of the Prelates.
  XXII. St. Benedict.  His Lamentation over the Corruption of Monks.
        The Eighth Heaven, the Fixed Stars.
 XXIII. The Triumph of Christ.  The Virgin Mary.  The Apostles.
        Gabriel.
  XXIV. The Radiant Wheel.  St. Peter examines Dante on Faith.
   XXV. The Laurel Crown.  St. James examines Dante on Hope.
        Dante's Blindness.
  XXVI. St. John examines Dante on Charity.  Dante's Sight.  Adam.
 XXVII. St. Peter's reproof of bad Popes.  The Ascent to
        the Ninth Heaven, the 'Primum Mobile.'
XXVIII. God and the Angelic Hierarchies.
  XXIX. Beatrice's Discourse of the Creation of the Angels,
        and of the Fall of Lucifer.  Her Reproof of Foolish and
        Avaricious Preachers.
   XXX. The Tenth Heaven, or Empyrean.  The River of Light.
        The Two Courts of Heaven.  The White Rose of Paradise.
        The great Throne.
  XXXI. The Glory of Paradise.  Departure of Beatrice.  St. Bernard.
 XXXII. St. Bernard points out the Saints in the White Rose.
XXXIII. Prayer to the Virgin.  The Threefold Circle of the Trinity.
        Mystery of the Divine and Human Nature.
Incipit Comoedia Dantis Alagherii,
Florentini natione, non moribus.
The Divine Comedy
translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(e-text courtesy ILT's Digital Dante Project)
Inferno: Canto I
Midway upon the journey of our life
  I found myself within a forest dark,
  For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say
  What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
  Which in the very thought renews the fear.
So bitter is it, death is little more;
  But of the good to treat, which there I found,
  Speak will I of the other things I saw there.
I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
  So full was I of slumber at the moment
  In which I had abandoned the true way.
But after I had reached a mountain's foot,
  At that point where the valley terminated,
  Which had with consternation pierced my heart,
Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,
  Vested already with that planet's rays
  Which leadeth others right by every road.
Then was the fear a little quieted
  That in my heart's lake had endured throughout
  The night, which I had passed so piteously.
And even as he, who, with distressful breath,
  Forth issued from the sea upon the shore,
  Turns to the water perilous and gazes;
So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward,
  Turn itself back to re-behold the pass
  Which never yet a living person left.
After my weary body I had rested,
  The way resumed I on the desert slope,
  So that the firm foot ever was the lower.
And lo! almost where the ascent began,
  A panther light and swift exceedingly,
  Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er!
And never moved she from before my face,
  Nay, rather did impede so much my way,
  That many times I to return had turned.
The time was the beginning of the morning,
  And up the sun was mounting with those stars
  That with him were, what time the Love Divine
At first in motion set those beauteous things;
  So were to me occasion of good hope,
  The variegated skin of that wild beast,
The hour of time, and the delicious season;
  But not so much, that did not give me fear
  A lion's aspect which appeared to me.
He seemed as if against me he were coming
  With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger,
  So that it seemed the air was afraid of him;
And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings
  Seemed to be laden in her meagreness,
  And many folk has caused to live forlorn!
She brought upon me so much heaviness,
  With the affright that from her aspect came,
  That I the hope relinquished of the height.
And as he is who willingly acquires,
  And the time comes that causes him to lose,
  Who weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent,
E'en such made me that beast withouten peace,
  Which, coming on against me by degrees
  Thrust me back thither where the sun is silent.
While I was rushing downward to the lowland,
  Before mine eyes did one present himself,
  Who seemed from long-continued silence hoarse.
When I beheld him in the desert vast,
  "Have pity on me," unto him I cried,
  "Whiche'er thou art, or shade or real man!"
He answered me: "Not man; man once I was,
  And both my parents were of Lombardy,
  And Mantuans by country both of them.
'Sub Julio' was I born, though it was late,
  And lived at Rome under the good Augustus,
  During the time of false and lying gods.
A poet was I, and I sang that just
  Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy,
  After that Ilion the superb was burned.
But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance?
  Why climb'st thou not the Mount Delectable,
  Which is the source and cause of every joy?"
"Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain
  Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?"
  I made response to him with bashful forehead.
"O, of the other poets honour and light,
  Avail me the long study and great love
  That have impelled me to explore thy volume!
Thou art my master, and my author thou,
  Thou art alone the one from whom I took
  The beautiful style that has done honour to me.
Behold the beast, for which I have turned back;
  Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage,
  For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble."
"Thee it behoves to take another road,"
  Responded he, when he beheld me weeping,
  "If from this savage place thou wouldst escape;
Because this beast, at which thou criest out,
  Suffers not any one to pass her way,
  But so doth harass him, that she destroys him;
And has a nature so malign and ruthless,
  That never doth she glut her greedy will,
  And after food is hungrier than before.
Many the animals with whom she weds,
  And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound
  Comes, who shall make her perish in her pain.
He shall not feed on either earth or pelf,
  But upon wisdom, and on love and virtue;
  'Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall his nation be;
Of that low Italy shall he be the saviour,
  On whose account the maid Camilla died,
  Euryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds;
Through every city shall he hunt her down,
  Until he shall have driven her back to Hell,
  There from whence envy first did let her loose.
Therefore I think and judge it for thy best
  Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide,
  And lead thee hence through the eternal place,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations,
  Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate,
  Who cry out each one for the second death;
And thou shalt see those who contented are
  Within the fire, because they hope to come,
  Whene'er it may be, to the blessed people;
To whom, then, if thou wishest to ascend,
  A soul shall be for that than I more worthy;
  With her at my departure I will leave thee;
Because that Emperor, who reigns above,
  In that I was rebellious to his law,
  Wills that through me none come into his city.
He governs everywhere, and there he reigns;
  There is his city and his lofty throne;
  O happy he whom thereto he elects!"
And I to him: "Poet, I thee entreat,
  By that same God whom thou didst never know,
  So that I may escape this woe and worse,
Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said,
  That I may see the portal of Saint Peter,
  And those thou makest so disconsolate."
Then he moved on, and I behind him followed.
Inferno: Canto II
Day was departing, and the embrowned air
  Released the animals that are on earth
  From their fatigues; and I the only one
Made myself ready to sustain the war,
  Both of the way and likewise of the woe,
  Which memory that errs not shall retrace.
O Muses, O high genius, now assist me!
  O memory, that didst write down what I saw,
  Here thy nobility shall be manifest!
And I began: "Poet, who guidest me,
  Regard my manhood, if it be sufficient,
  Ere to the arduous pass thou dost confide me.
Thou sayest, that of Silvius the parent,
  While yet corruptible, unto the world
  Immortal went, and was there bodily.
But if the adversary of all evil
  Was courteous, thinking of the high effect
  That issue would from him, and who, and what,
To men of intellect unmeet it seems not;
  For he was of great Rome, and of her empire
  In the empyreal heaven as father chosen;
The which and what, wishing to speak the truth,
  Were stablished as the holy place, wherein
  Sits the successor of the greatest Peter.
Upon this journey, whence thou givest him vaunt,
  Things did he hear, which the occasion were
  Both of his victory and the papal mantle.
Thither went afterwards the Chosen Vessel,
  To bring back comfort thence unto that Faith,
  Which of salvation's way is the beginning.
But I, why thither come, or who concedes it?
  I not Aeneas am, I am not Paul,
  Nor I, nor others, think me worthy of it.
Therefore, if I resign myself to come,
  I fear the coming may be ill-advised;
  Thou'rt wise, and knowest better than I speak."
And as he is, who unwills what he willed,
  And by new thoughts doth his intention change,
  So that from his design he quite withdraws,
Such I became, upon that dark hillside,
  Because, in thinking, I consumed the emprise,
  Which was so very prompt in the beginning.
"If I have well thy language understood,"
  Replied that shade of the Magnanimous,
  "Thy soul attainted is with cowardice,
Which many times a man encumbers so,
  It turns him back from honoured enterprise,
  As false sight doth a beast, when he is shy.
That thou mayst free thee from this apprehension,
  I'll tell thee why I came, and what I heard
  At the first moment when I grieved for thee.
Among those was I who are in suspense,
  And a fair, saintly Lady called to me
  In such wise, I besought her to command me.
Her eyes where shining brighter than the Star;
  And she began to say, gentle and low,
  With voice angelical, in her own language:
'O spirit courteous of Mantua,
  Of whom the fame still in the world endures,
  And shall endure, long-lasting as the world;
A friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune,
  Upon the desert slope is so impeded
  Upon his way, that he has turned through terror,
And may, I fear, already be so lost,
  That I too late have risen to his succour,
  From that which I have heard of him in Heaven.
Bestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate,
  And with what needful is for his release,
  Assist him so, that I may be consoled.
Beatrice am I, who do bid thee go;
  I come from there, where I would fain return;
  Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak.
When I shall be in presence of my Lord,
  Full often will I praise thee unto him.'
  Then paused she, and thereafter I began:
'O Lady of virtue, thou alone through whom
  The human race exceedeth all contained
  Within the heaven that has the lesser circles,
So grateful unto me is thy commandment,
  To obey, if 'twere already done, were late;
  No farther need'st thou ope to me thy wish.
But the cause tell me why thou dost not shun
  The here descending down into this centre,
  From the vast place thou burnest to return to.'
'Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern,
  Briefly will I relate,' she answered me,
  'Why I am not afraid to enter here.
Of those things only should one be afraid
  Which have the power of doing others harm;
  Of the rest, no; because they are not fearful.
God in his mercy such created me
  That misery of yours attains me not,
  Nor any flame assails me of this burning.
A gentle Lady is in Heaven, who grieves
  At this impediment, to which I send thee,
  So that stern judgment there above is broken.
In her entreaty she besought Lucia,
  And said, "Thy faithful one now stands in need
  Of thee, and unto thee I recommend him."
Lucia, foe of all that cruel is,
  Hastened away, and came unto the place
  Where I was sitting with the ancient Rachel.
"Beatrice" said she, "the true praise of God,
  Why succourest thou not him, who loved thee so,
  For thee he issued from the vulgar herd?
Dost thou not hear the pity of his plaint?
  Dost thou not see the death that combats him
  Beside that flood, where ocean has no vaunt?"
Never were persons in the world so swift
  To work their weal and to escape their woe,
  As I, after such words as these were uttered,
Came hither downward from my blessed seat,
  Confiding in thy dignified discourse,
  Which honours thee, and those who've listened to it.'
After she thus had spoken unto me,
  Weeping, her shining eyes she turned away;
  Whereby she made me swifter in my coming;
And unto thee I came, as she desired;
  I have delivered thee from that wild beast,
  Which barred the beautiful mountain's short ascent.
What is it, then?  Why, why dost thou delay?
  Why is such baseness bedded in thy heart?
  Daring and hardihood why hast thou not,
Seeing that three such Ladies benedight
  Are caring for thee in the court of Heaven,
  And so much good my speech doth promise thee?"
Even as the flowerets, by nocturnal chill,
  Bowed down and closed, when the sun whitens them,
  Uplift themselves all open on their stems;
Such I became with my exhausted strength,
  And such good courage to my heart there coursed,
  That I began, like an intrepid person:
"O she compassionate, who succoured me,
  And courteous thou, who hast obeyed so soon
  The words of truth which she addressed to thee!
Thou hast my heart so with desire disposed
  To the adventure, with these words of thine,
  That to my first intent I have returned.
Now go, for one sole will is in us both,
  Thou Leader, and thou Lord, and Master thou."
  Thus said I to him; and when he had moved,
I entered on the deep and savage way.
Inferno: Canto III
"Through me the way is to the city dolent;
  Through me the way is to eternal dole;
  Through me the way among the people lost.
Justice incited my sublime Creator;
  Created me divine Omnipotence,
  The highest Wisdom and the primal Love.
Before me there were no created things,
  Only eterne, and I eternal last.
  All hope abandon, ye who enter in!"
These words in sombre colour I beheld
  Written upon the summit of a gate;
  Whence I: "Their sense is, Master, hard to me!"
And he to me, as one experienced:
  "Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned,
  All cowardice must needs be here extinct.
We to the place have come, where I have told thee
  Thou shalt behold the people dolorous
  Who have foregone the good of intellect."
And after he had laid his hand on mine
  With joyful mien, whence I was comforted,
  He led me in among the secret things.
There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud
  Resounded through the air without a star,
  Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.
Languages diverse, horrible dialects,
  Accents of anger, words of agony,
  And voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands,
Made up a tumult that goes whirling on
  For ever in that air for ever black,
  Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes.
And I, who had my head with horror bound,
  Said: "Master, what is this which now I hear?
  What folk is this, which seems by pain so vanquished?"
And he to me: "This miserable mode
  Maintain the melancholy souls of those
  Who lived withouten infamy or praise.
Commingled are they with that caitiff choir
  Of Angels, who have not rebellious been,
  Nor faithful were to God, but were for self.
The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair;
  Nor them the nethermore abyss receives,
  For glory none the damned would have from them."
And I: "O Master, what so grievous is
  To these, that maketh them lament so sore?"
  He answered: "I will tell thee very briefly.
These have no longer any hope of death;
  And this blind life of theirs is so debased,
  They envious are of every other fate.
No fame of them the world permits to be;
  Misericord and Justice both disdain them.
  Let us not speak of them, but look, and pass."
And I, who looked again, beheld a banner,
  Which, whirling round, ran on so rapidly,
  That of all pause it seemed to me indignant;
And after it there came so long a train
  Of people, that I ne'er would have believed
  That ever Death so many had undone.
When some among them I had recognised,
  I looked, and I beheld the shade of him
  Who made through cowardice the great refusal.
Forthwith I comprehended, and was certain,
  That this the sect was of the caitiff wretches
  Hateful to God and to his enemies.
These miscreants, who never were alive,
  Were naked, and were stung exceedingly
  By gadflies and by hornets that were there.
These did their faces irrigate with blood,
  Which, with their tears commingled, at their feet
  By the disgusting worms was gathered up.
And when to gazing farther I betook me.
  People I saw on a great river's bank;
  Whence said I: "Master, now vouchsafe to me,
That I may know who these are, and what law
  Makes them appear so ready to pass over,
  As I discern athwart the dusky light."
And he to me: "These things shall all be known
  To thee, as soon as we our footsteps stay
  Upon the dismal shore of Acheron."
Then with mine eyes ashamed and downward cast,
  Fearing my words might irksome be to him,
  From speech refrained I till we reached the river.
And lo! towards us coming in a boat
  An old man, hoary with the hair of eld,
  Crying: "Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!
Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens;
  I come to lead you to the other shore,
  To the eternal shades in heat and frost.
And thou, that yonder standest, living soul,
  Withdraw thee from these people, who are dead!"
  But when he saw that I did not withdraw,
He said: "By other ways, by other ports
  Thou to the shore shalt come, not here, for passage;
  A lighter vessel needs must carry thee."
And unto him the Guide: "Vex thee not, Charon;
  It is so willed there where is power to do
  That which is willed; and farther question not."
Thereat were quieted the fleecy cheeks
  Of him the ferryman of the livid fen,
  Who round about his eyes had wheels of flame.
But all those souls who weary were and naked
  Their colour changed and gnashed their teeth together,
  As soon as they had heard those cruel words.
God they blasphemed and their progenitors,
  The human race, the place, the time, the seed
  Of their engendering and of their birth!
Thereafter all together they drew back,
  Bitterly weeping, to the accursed shore,
  Which waiteth every man who fears not God.
Charon the demon, with the eyes of glede,
  Beckoning to them, collects them all together,
  Beats with his oar whoever lags behind.
As in the autumn-time the leaves fall off,
  First one and then another, till the branch
  Unto the earth surrenders all its spoils;
In similar wise the evil seed of Adam
  Throw themselves from that margin one by one,
  At signals, as a bird unto its lure.
So they depart across the dusky wave,
  And ere upon the other side they land,
  Again on this side a new troop assembles.
"My son," the courteous Master said to me,
  "All those who perish in the wrath of God
  Here meet together out of every land;
And ready are they to pass o'er the river,
  Because celestial Justice spurs them on,
  So that their fear is turned into desire.
This way there never passes a good soul;
  And hence if Charon doth complain of thee,
  Well mayst thou know now what his speech imports."
This being finished, all the dusk champaign
  Trembled so violently, that of that terror
  The recollection bathes me still with sweat.
The land of tears gave forth a blast of wind,
  And fulminated a vermilion light,
  Which overmastered in me every sense,
And as a man whom sleep hath seized I fell.
Inferno: Canto IV
Broke the deep lethargy within my head
  A heavy thunder, so that I upstarted,
  Like to a person who by force is wakened;
And round about I moved my rested eyes,
  Uprisen erect, and steadfastly I gazed,
  To recognise the place wherein I was.
True is it, that upon the verge I found me
  Of the abysmal valley dolorous,
  That gathers thunder of infinite ululations.
Obscure, profound it was, and nebulous,
  So that by fixing on its depths my sight
  Nothing whatever I discerned therein.
"Let us descend now into the blind world,"
  Began the Poet, pallid utterly;
  "I will be first, and thou shalt second be."
And I, who of his colour was aware,
  Said: "How shall I come, if thou art afraid,
  Who'rt wont to be a comfort to my fears?"
And he to me: "The anguish of the people
  Who are below here in my face depicts
  That pity which for terror thou hast taken.
Let us go on, for the long way impels us."
  Thus he went in, and thus he made me enter
  The foremost circle that surrounds the abyss.
There, as it seemed to me from listening,
  Were lamentations none, but only sighs,
  That tremble made the everlasting air.
And this arose from sorrow without torment,
  Which the crowds had, that many were and great,
  Of infants and of women and of men.
To me the Master good: "Thou dost not ask
  What spirits these, which thou beholdest, are?
  Now will I have thee know, ere thou go farther,
That they sinned not; and if they merit had,
  'Tis not enough, because they had not baptism
  Which is the portal of the Faith thou holdest;
And if they were before Christianity,
  In the right manner they adored not God;
  And among such as these am I myself.
For such defects, and not for other guilt,
  Lost are we and are only so far punished,
  That without hope we live on in desire."
Great grief seized on my heart when this I heard,
  Because some people of much worthiness
  I knew, who in that Limbo were suspended.
"Tell me, my Master, tell me, thou my Lord,"
  Began I, with desire of being certain
  Of that Faith which o'ercometh every error,
"Came any one by his own merit hence,
  Or by another's, who was blessed thereafter?"
  And he, who understood my covert speech,
Replied: "I was a novice in this state,
  When I saw hither come a Mighty One,
  With sign of victory incoronate.
Hence he drew forth the shade of the First Parent,
  And that of his son Abel, and of Noah,
  Of Moses the lawgiver, and the obedient
Abraham, patriarch, and David, king,
  Israel with his father and his children,
  And Rachel, for whose sake he did so much,
And others many, and he made them blessed;
  And thou must know, that earlier than these
  Never were any human spirits saved."
We ceased not to advance because he spake,
  But still were passing onward through the forest,
  The forest, say I, of thick-crowded ghosts.
Not very far as yet our way had gone
  This side the summit, when I saw a fire
  That overcame a hemisphere of darkness.
We were a little distant from it still,
  But not so far that I in part discerned not
  That honourable people held that place.
"O thou who honourest every art and science,
  Who may these be, which such great honour have,
  That from the fashion of the rest it parts them?"
And he to me: "The honourable name,
  That sounds of them above there in thy life,
  Wins grace in Heaven, that so advances them."
In the mean time a voice was heard by me:
  "All honour be to the pre-eminent Poet;
  His shade returns again, that was departed."
After the voice had ceased and quiet was,
  Four mighty shades I saw approaching us;
  Semblance had they nor sorrowful nor glad.
To say to me began my gracious Master:
  "Him with that falchion in his hand behold,
  Who comes before the three, even as their lord.
That one is Homer, Poet sovereign;
  He who comes next is Horace, the satirist;
  The third is Ovid, and the last is Lucan.
Because to each of these with me applies
  The name that solitary voice proclaimed,
  They do me honour, and in that do well."
Thus I beheld assemble the fair school
  Of that lord of the song pre-eminent,
  Who o'er the others like an eagle soars.
When they together had discoursed somewhat,
  They turned to me with signs of salutation,
  And on beholding this, my Master smiled;
And more of honour still, much more, they did me,
  In that they made me one of their own band;
  So that the sixth was I, 'mid so much wit.
Thus we went on as far as to the light,
  Things saying 'tis becoming to keep silent,
  As was the saying of them where I was.
We came unto a noble castle's foot,
  Seven times encompassed with lofty walls,
  Defended round by a fair rivulet;
This we passed over even as firm ground;
  Through portals seven I entered with these Sages;
  We came into a meadow of fresh verdure.
People were there with solemn eyes and slow,
  Of great authority in their countenance;
  They spake but seldom, and with gentle voices.
Thus we withdrew ourselves upon one side
  Into an opening luminous and lofty,
  So that they all of them were visible.
There opposite, upon the green enamel,
  Were pointed out to me the mighty spirits,
  Whom to have seen I feel myself exalted.
I saw Electra with companions many,
  'Mongst whom I knew both Hector and Aeneas,
  Caesar in armour with gerfalcon eyes;
I saw Camilla and Penthesilea
  On the other side, and saw the King Latinus,
  Who with Lavinia his daughter sat;
I saw that Brutus who drove Tarquin forth,
  Lucretia, Julia, Marcia, and Cornelia,
  And saw alone, apart, the Saladin.
When I had lifted up my brows a little,
  The Master I beheld of those who know,
  Sit with his philosophic family.
All gaze upon him, and all do him honour.
  There I beheld both Socrates and Plato,
  Who nearer him before the others stand;
Democritus, who puts the world on chance,
  Diogenes, Anaxagoras, and Thales,
  Zeno, Empedocles, and Heraclitus;
Of qualities I saw the good collector,
  Hight Dioscorides; and Orpheus saw I,
  Tully and Livy, and moral Seneca,
Euclid, geometrician, and Ptolemy,
  Galen, Hippocrates, and Avicenna,
  Averroes, who the great Comment made.
I cannot all of them pourtray in full,
  Because so drives me onward the long theme,
  That many times the word comes short of fact.
The sixfold company in two divides;
  Another way my sapient Guide conducts me
  Forth from the quiet to the air that trembles;
And to a place I come where nothing shines.
Inferno: Canto V
Thus I descended out of the first circle
  Down to the second, that less space begirds,
  And so much greater dole, that goads to wailing.
There standeth Minos horribly, and snarls;
  Examines the transgressions at the entrance;
  Judges, and sends according as he girds him.
I say, that when the spirit evil-born
  Cometh before him, wholly it confesses;
  And this discriminator of transgressions
Seeth what place in Hell is meet for it;
  Girds himself with his tail as many times
  As grades he wishes it should be thrust down.
Always before him many of them stand;
  They go by turns each one unto the judgment;
  They speak, and hear, and then are downward hurled.
"O thou, that to this dolorous hostelry
  Comest," said Minos to me, when he saw me,
  Leaving the practice of so great an office,
"Look how thou enterest, and in whom thou trustest;
  Let not the portal's amplitude deceive thee."
  And unto him my Guide: "Why criest thou too?
Do not impede his journey fate-ordained;
  It is so willed there where is power to do
  That which is willed; and ask no further question."
And now begin the dolesome notes to grow
  Audible unto me; now am I come
  There where much lamentation strikes upon me.
I came into a place mute of all light,
  Which bellows as the sea does in a tempest,
  If by opposing winds 't is combated.
The infernal hurricane that never rests
  Hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine;
  Whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them.
When they arrive before the precipice,
  There are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments,
  There they blaspheme the puissance divine.
I understood that unto such a torment
  The carnal malefactors were condemned,
  Who reason subjugate to appetite.
And as the wings of starlings bear them on
  In the cold season in large band and full,
  So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them;
  No hope doth comfort them for evermore,
  Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays,
  Making in air a long line of themselves,
  So saw I coming, uttering lamentations,
Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress.
  Whereupon said I: "Master, who are those
  People, whom the black air so castigates?"
"The first of those, of whom intelligence
  Thou fain wouldst have," then said he unto me,
  "The empress was of many languages.
To sensual vices she was so abandoned,
  That lustful she made licit in her law,
  To remove the blame to which she had been led.
She is Semiramis, of whom we read
  That she succeeded Ninus, and was his spouse;
  She held the land which now the Sultan rules.
The next is she who killed herself for love,
  And broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus;
  Then Cleopatra the voluptuous."
Helen I saw, for whom so many ruthless
  Seasons revolved; and saw the great Achilles,
  Who at the last hour combated with Love.
Paris I saw, Tristan; and more than a thousand
  Shades did he name and point out with his finger,
  Whom Love had separated from our life.
After that I had listened to my Teacher,
  Naming the dames of eld and cavaliers,
  Pity prevailed, and I was nigh bewildered.
And I began: "O Poet, willingly
  Speak would I to those two, who go together,
  And seem upon the wind to be so light."
And, he to me: "Thou'lt mark, when they shall be
  Nearer to us; and then do thou implore them
  By love which leadeth them, and they will come."
Soon as the wind in our direction sways them,
  My voice uplift I: "O ye weary souls!
  Come speak to us, if no one interdicts it."
As turtle-doves, called onward by desire,
  With open and steady wings to the sweet nest
  Fly through the air by their volition borne,
So came they from the band where Dido is,
  Approaching us athwart the air malign,
  So strong was the affectionate appeal.
"O living creature gracious and benignant,
  Who visiting goest through the purple air
  Us, who have stained the world incarnadine,
If were the King of the Universe our friend,
  We would pray unto him to give thee peace,
  Since thou hast pity on our woe perverse.
Of what it pleases thee to hear and speak,
  That will we hear, and we will speak to you,
  While silent is the wind, as it is now.
Sitteth the city, wherein I was born,
  Upon the sea-shore where the Po descends
  To rest in peace with all his retinue.
Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize,
  Seized this man for the person beautiful
  That was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me.
Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving,
  Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly,
  That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me;
Love has conducted us unto one death;
  Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!"
  These words were borne along from them to us.
As soon as I had heard those souls tormented,
  I bowed my face, and so long held it down
  Until the Poet said to me: "What thinkest?"
When I made answer, I began: "Alas!
  How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire,
  Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!"
Then unto them I turned me, and I spake,
  And I began: "Thine agonies, Francesca,
  Sad and compassionate to weeping make me.
But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs,
  By what and in what manner Love conceded,
  That you should know your dubious desires?"
And she to me: "There is no greater sorrow
  Than to be mindful of the happy time
  In misery, and that thy Teacher knows.
But, if to recognise the earliest root
  Of love in us thou hast so great desire,
  I will do even as he who weeps and speaks.
One day we reading were for our delight
  Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthral.
  Alone we were and without any fear.
Full many a time our eyes together drew
  That reading, and drove the colour from our faces;
  But one point only was it that o'ercame us.
When as we read of the much-longed-for smile
  Being by such a noble lover kissed,
  This one, who ne'er from me shall be divided,
Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating.
  Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it.
  That day no farther did we read therein."
And all the while one spirit uttered this,
  The other one did weep so, that, for pity,
  I swooned away as if I had been dying,
And fell, even as a dead body falls.
Inferno: Canto VI
At the return of consciousness, that closed
  Before the pity of those two relations,
  Which utterly with sadness had confused me,
New torments I behold, and new tormented
  Around me, whichsoever way I move,
  And whichsoever way I turn, and gaze.
In the third circle am I of the rain
  Eternal, maledict, and cold, and heavy;
  Its law and quality are never new.
Huge hail, and water sombre-hued, and snow,
  Athwart the tenebrous air pour down amain;
  Noisome the earth is, that receiveth this.
Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth,
  With his three gullets like a dog is barking
  Over the people that are there submerged.
Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black,
  And belly large, and armed with claws his hands;
  He rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
Howl the rain maketh them like unto dogs;
  One side they make a shelter for the other;
  Oft turn themselves the wretched reprobates.
When Cerberus perceived us, the great worm!
   His mouths he opened, and displayed his tusks;
   Not a limb had he that was motionless.
And my Conductor, with his spans extended,
  Took of the earth, and with his fists well filled,
  He threw it into those rapacious gullets.
Such as that dog is, who by barking craves,
  And quiet grows soon as his food he gnaws,
  For to devour it he but thinks and struggles,
The like became those muzzles filth-begrimed
  Of Cerberus the demon, who so thunders
  Over the souls that they would fain be deaf.
We passed across the shadows, which subdues
  The heavy rain-storm, and we placed our feet
  Upon their vanity that person seems.
They all were lying prone upon the earth,
  Excepting one, who sat upright as soon
  As he beheld us passing on before him.
"O thou that art conducted through this Hell,"
  He said to me, "recall me, if thou canst;
  Thyself wast made before I was unmade."
And I to him: "The anguish which thou hast
  Perhaps doth draw thee out of my remembrance,
  So that it seems not I have ever seen thee.
But tell me who thou art, that in so doleful
  A place art put, and in such punishment,
  If some are greater, none is so displeasing."
And he to me: "Thy city, which is full
  Of envy so that now the sack runs over,
  Held me within it in the life serene.
You citizens were wont to call me Ciacco;
  For the pernicious sin of gluttony
  I, as thou seest, am battered by this rain.
And I, sad soul, am not the only one,
  For all these suffer the like penalty
  For the like sin;" and word no more spake he.
I answered him: "Ciacco, thy wretchedness
  Weighs on me so that it to weep invites me;
  But tell me, if thou knowest, to what shall come
The citizens of the divided city;
  If any there be just; and the occasion
  Tell me why so much discord has assailed it."
And he to me: "They, after long contention,
  Will come to bloodshed; and the rustic party
  Will drive the other out with much offence.
Then afterwards behoves it this one fall
  Within three suns, and rise again the other
  By force of him who now is on the coast.
High will it hold its forehead a long while,
  Keeping the other under heavy burdens,
  Howe'er it weeps thereat and is indignant.
The just are two, and are not understood there;
  Envy and Arrogance and Avarice
  Are the three sparks that have all hearts enkindled."
Here ended he his tearful utterance;
  And I to him: "I wish thee still to teach me,
  And make a gift to me of further speech.
Farinata and Tegghiaio, once so worthy,
  Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, and Mosca,
  And others who on good deeds set their thoughts,
Say where they are, and cause that I may know them;
  For great desire constraineth me to learn
  If Heaven doth sweeten them, or Hell envenom."
And he: "They are among the blacker souls;
  A different sin downweighs them to the bottom;
  If thou so far descendest, thou canst see them.
But when thou art again in the sweet world,
  I pray thee to the mind of others bring me;
  No more I tell thee and no more I answer."
Then his straightforward eyes he turned askance,
  Eyed me a little, and then bowed his head;
  He fell therewith prone like the other blind.
And the Guide said to me: "He wakes no more
  This side the sound of the angelic trumpet;
  When shall approach the hostile Potentate,
Each one shall find again his dismal tomb,
  Shall reassume his flesh and his own figure,
  Shall hear what through eternity re-echoes."
So we passed onward o'er the filthy mixture
  Of shadows and of rain with footsteps slow,
  Touching a little on the future life.
Wherefore I said: "Master, these torments here,
  Will they increase after the mighty sentence,
  Or lesser be, or will they be as burning?"
And he to me: "Return unto thy science,
  Which wills, that as the thing more perfect is,
  The more it feels of pleasure and of pain.
Albeit that this people maledict
  To true perfection never can attain,
  Hereafter more than now they look to be."
Round in a circle by that road we went,
  Speaking much more, which I do not repeat;
  We came unto the point where the descent is;
There we found Plutus the great enemy.
Inferno: Canto VII
"Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe!"
  Thus Plutus with his clucking voice began;
  And that benignant Sage, who all things knew,
Said, to encourage me: "Let not thy fear
  Harm thee; for any power that he may have
  Shall not prevent thy going down this crag."
Then he turned round unto that bloated lip,
  And said: "Be silent, thou accursed wolf;
  Consume within thyself with thine own rage.
Not causeless is this journey to the abyss;
  Thus is it willed on high, where Michael wrought
  Vengeance upon the proud adultery."
Even as the sails inflated by the wind
  Involved together fall when snaps the mast,
  So fell the cruel monster to the earth.
Thus we descended into the fourth chasm,
  Gaining still farther on the dolesome shore
  Which all the woe of the universe insacks.
Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many
  New toils and sufferings as I beheld?
  And why doth our transgression waste us so?
As doth the billow there upon Charybdis,
  That breaks itself on that which it encounters,
  So here the folk must dance their roundelay.
Here saw I people, more than elsewhere, many,
  On one side and the other, with great howls,
  Rolling weights forward by main force of chest.
They clashed together, and then at that point
  Each one turned backward, rolling retrograde,
  Crying, "Why keepest?" and, "Why squanderest thou?"
Thus they returned along the lurid circle
  On either hand unto the opposite point,
  Shouting their shameful metre evermore.
Then each, when he arrived there, wheeled about
  Through his half-circle to another joust;
  And I, who had my heart pierced as it were,
Exclaimed: "My Master, now declare to me
  What people these are, and if all were clerks,
  These shaven crowns upon the left of us."
And he to me: "All of them were asquint
  In intellect in the first life, so much
  That there with measure they no spending made.
Clearly enough their voices bark it forth,
  Whene'er they reach the two points of the circle,
  Where sunders them the opposite defect.
Clerks those were who no hairy covering
  Have on the head, and Popes and Cardinals,
  In whom doth Avarice practise its excess."
And I: "My Master, among such as these
  I ought forsooth to recognise some few,
  Who were infected with these maladies."
And he to me: "Vain thought thou entertainest;
  The undiscerning life which made them sordid
  Now makes them unto all discernment dim.
Forever shall they come to these two buttings;
  These from the sepulchre shall rise again
  With the fist closed, and these with tresses shorn.
Ill giving and ill keeping the fair world
  Have ta'en from them, and placed them in this scuffle;
  Whate'er it be, no words adorn I for it.
Now canst thou, Son, behold the transient farce
  Of goods that are committed unto Fortune,
  For which the human race each other buffet;
For all the gold that is beneath the moon,
  Or ever has been, of these weary souls
  Could never make a single one repose."
"Master," I said to him, "now tell me also
  What is this Fortune which thou speakest of,
  That has the world's goods so within its clutches?"
And he to me: "O creatures imbecile,
  What ignorance is this which doth beset you?
  Now will I have thee learn my judgment of her.
He whose omniscience everything transcends
  The heavens created, and gave who should guide them,
  That every part to every part may shine,
Distributing the light in equal measure;
  He in like manner to the mundane splendours
  Ordained a general ministress and guide,
That she might change at times the empty treasures
  From race to race, from one blood to another,
  Beyond resistance of all human wisdom.
Therefore one people triumphs, and another
  Languishes, in pursuance of her judgment,
  Which hidden is, as in the grass a serpent.
Your knowledge has no counterstand against her;
  She makes provision, judges, and pursues
  Her governance, as theirs the other gods.
Her permutations have not any truce;
  Necessity makes her precipitate,
  So often cometh who his turn obtains.
And this is she who is so crucified
  Even by those who ought to give her praise,
  Giving her blame amiss, and bad repute.
But she is blissful, and she hears it not;
  Among the other primal creatures gladsome
  She turns her sphere, and blissful she rejoices.
Let us descend now unto greater woe;
  Already sinks each star that was ascending
  When I set out, and loitering is forbidden."
We crossed the circle to the other bank,
  Near to a fount that boils, and pours itself
  Along a gully that runs out of it.
The water was more sombre far than perse;
  And we, in company with the dusky waves,
  Made entrance downward by a path uncouth.
A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx,
  This tristful brooklet, when it has descended
  Down to the foot of the malign gray shores.
And I, who stood intent upon beholding,
  Saw people mud-besprent in that lagoon,
  All of them naked and with angry look.
They smote each other not alone with hands,
  But with the head and with the breast and feet,
  Tearing each other piecemeal with their teeth.
Said the good Master: "Son, thou now beholdest
  The souls of those whom anger overcame;
  And likewise I would have thee know for certain
Beneath the water people are who sigh
  And make this water bubble at the surface,
  As the eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turns.
Fixed in the mire they say, 'We sullen were
  In the sweet air, which by the sun is gladdened,
  Bearing within ourselves the sluggish reek;
Now we are sullen in this sable mire.'
  This hymn do they keep gurgling in their throats,
  For with unbroken words they cannot say it."
Thus we went circling round the filthy fen
  A great arc 'twixt the dry bank and the swamp,
  With eyes turned unto those who gorge the mire;
Unto the foot of a tower we came at last.
Inferno: Canto VIII
I say, continuing, that long before
  We to the foot of that high tower had come,
  Our eyes went upward to the summit of it,
By reason of two flamelets we saw placed there,
  And from afar another answer them,
  So far, that hardly could the eye attain it.
And, to the sea of all discernment turned,
  I said: "What sayeth this, and what respondeth
  That other fire? and who are they that made it?"
And he to me: "Across the turbid waves
  What is expected thou canst now discern,
  If reek of the morass conceal it not."
Cord never shot an arrow from itself
  That sped away athwart the air so swift,
  As I beheld a very little boat
Come o'er the water tow'rds us at that moment,
  Under the guidance of a single pilot,
  Who shouted, "Now art thou arrived, fell soul?"
"Phlegyas, Phlegyas, thou criest out in vain
  For this once," said my Lord; "thou shalt not have us
  Longer than in the passing of the slough."
As he who listens to some great deceit
  That has been done to him, and then resents it,
  Such became Phlegyas, in his gathered wrath.
My Guide descended down into the boat,
  And then he made me enter after him,
  And only when I entered seemed it laden.
Soon as the Guide and I were in the boat,
  The antique prow goes on its way, dividing
  More of the water than 'tis wont with others.
While we were running through the dead canal,
  Uprose in front of me one full of mire,
  And said, "Who 'rt thou that comest ere the hour?"
And I to him: "Although I come, I stay not;
  But who art thou that hast become so squalid?"
  "Thou seest that I am one who weeps," he answered.
And I to him: "With weeping and with wailing,
  Thou spirit maledict, do thou remain;
  For thee I know, though thou art all defiled."
Then stretched he both his hands unto the boat;
  Whereat my wary Master thrust him back,
  Saying, "Away there with the other dogs!"
Thereafter with his arms he clasped my neck;
  He kissed my face, and said: "Disdainful soul,
  Blessed be she who bore thee in her bosom.
That was an arrogant person in the world;
  Goodness is none, that decks his memory;
  So likewise here his shade is furious.
How many are esteemed great kings up there,
  Who here shall be like unto swine in mire,
  Leaving behind them horrible dispraises!"
And I: "My Master, much should I be pleased,
  If I could see him soused into this broth,
  Before we issue forth out of the lake."
And he to me: "Ere unto thee the shore
  Reveal itself, thou shalt be satisfied;
  Such a desire 'tis meet thou shouldst enjoy."
A little after that, I saw such havoc
  Made of him by the people of the mire,
  That still I praise and thank my God for it.
They all were shouting, "At Philippo Argenti!"
  And that exasperate spirit Florentine
  Turned round upon himself with his own teeth.
We left him there, and more of him I tell not;
  But on mine ears there smote a lamentation,
  Whence forward I intent unbar mine eyes.
And the good Master said: "Even now, my Son,
  The city draweth near whose name is Dis,
  With the grave citizens, with the great throng."
And I: "Its mosques already, Master, clearly
  Within there in the valley I discern
  Vermilion, as if issuing from the fire
They were."  And he to me: "The fire eternal
  That kindles them within makes them look red,
  As thou beholdest in this nether Hell."
Then we arrived within the moats profound,
  That circumvallate that disconsolate city;
  The walls appeared to me to be of iron.
Not without making first a circuit wide,
  We came unto a place where loud the pilot
  Cried out to us, "Debark, here is the entrance."
More than a thousand at the gates I saw
  Out of the Heavens rained down, who angrily
  Were saying, "Who is this that without death
Goes through the kingdom of the people dead?"
  And my sagacious Master made a sign
  Of wishing secretly to speak with them.
A little then they quelled their great disdain,
  And said: "Come thou alone, and he begone
  Who has so boldly entered these dominions.
Let him return alone by his mad road;
  Try, if he can; for thou shalt here remain,
  Who hast escorted him through such dark regions."
Think, Reader, if I was discomforted
  At utterance of the accursed words;
  For never to return here I believed.
"O my dear Guide, who more than seven times
  Hast rendered me security, and drawn me
  From imminent peril that before me stood,
Do not desert me," said I, "thus undone;
  And if the going farther be denied us,
  Let us retrace our steps together swiftly."
And that Lord, who had led me thitherward,
  Said unto me: "Fear not; because our passage
  None can take from us, it by Such is given.
But here await me, and thy weary spirit
  Comfort and nourish with a better hope;
  For in this nether world I will not leave thee."
So onward goes and there abandons me
  My Father sweet, and I remain in doubt,
  For No and Yes within my head contend.
I could not hear what he proposed to them;
  But with them there he did not linger long,
  Ere each within in rivalry ran back.
They closed the portals, those our adversaries,
  On my Lord's breast, who had remained without
  And turned to me with footsteps far between.
His eyes cast down, his forehead shorn had he
  Of all its boldness, and he said, with sighs,
  "Who has denied to me the dolesome houses?"
And unto me: "Thou, because I am angry,
  Fear not, for I will conquer in the trial,
  Whatever for defence within be planned.
This arrogance of theirs is nothing new;
  For once they used it at less secret gate,
  Which finds itself without a fastening still.
O'er it didst thou behold the dead inscription;
  And now this side of it descends the steep,
  Passing across the circles without escort,
One by whose means the city shall be opened."
Inferno: Canto IX
That hue which cowardice brought out on me,
  Beholding my Conductor backward turn,
  Sooner repressed within him his new colour.
He stopped attentive, like a man who listens,
  Because the eye could not conduct him far
  Through the black air, and through the heavy fog.
"Still it behoveth us to win the fight,"
  Began he; "Else. . .Such offered us herself. . .
  O how I long that some one here arrive!"
Well I perceived, as soon as the beginning
  He covered up with what came afterward,
  That they were words quite different from the first;
But none the less his saying gave me fear,
  Because I carried out the broken phrase,
  Perhaps to a worse meaning than he had.
"Into this bottom of the doleful conch
  Doth any e'er descend from the first grade,
  Which for its pain has only hope cut off?"
This question put I; and he answered me:
  "Seldom it comes to pass that one of us
  Maketh the journey upon which I go.
True is it, once before I here below
  Was conjured by that pitiless Erictho,
  Who summoned back the shades unto their bodies.
Naked of me short while the flesh had been,
  Before within that wall she made me enter,
  To bring a spirit from the circle of Judas;
That is the lowest region and the darkest,
  And farthest from the heaven which circles all.
  Well know I the way; therefore be reassured.
This fen, which a prodigious stench exhales,
  Encompasses about the city dolent,
  Where now we cannot enter without anger."
And more he said, but not in mind I have it;
  Because mine eye had altogether drawn me
  Tow'rds the high tower with the red-flaming summit,
Where in a moment saw I swift uprisen
  The three infernal Furies stained with blood,
  Who had the limbs of women and their mien,
And with the greenest hydras were begirt;
  Small serpents and cerastes were their tresses,
  Wherewith their horrid temples were entwined.
And he who well the handmaids of the Queen
  Of everlasting lamentation knew,
  Said unto me: "Behold the fierce Erinnys.
This is Megaera, on the left-hand side;
  She who is weeping on the right, Alecto;
  Tisiphone is between;" and then was silent.
Each one her breast was rending with her nails;
  They beat them with their palms, and cried so loud,
  That I for dread pressed close unto the Poet.
"Medusa come, so we to stone will change him!"
  All shouted looking down; "in evil hour
  Avenged we not on Theseus his assault!"
"Turn thyself round, and keep thine eyes close shut,
  For if the Gorgon appear, and thou shouldst see it,
  No more returning upward would there be."
Thus said the Master; and he turned me round
  Himself, and trusted not unto my hands
  So far as not to blind me with his own.
O ye who have undistempered intellects,
  Observe the doctrine that conceals itself
  Beneath the veil of the mysterious verses!
And now there came across the turbid waves
  The clangour of a sound with terror fraught,
  Because of which both of the margins trembled;
Not otherwise it was than of a wind
  Impetuous on account of adverse heats,
  That smites the forest, and, without restraint,
The branches rends, beats down, and bears away;
  Right onward, laden with dust, it goes superb,
  And puts to flight the wild beasts and the shepherds.
Mine eyes he loosed, and said: "Direct the nerve
  Of vision now along that ancient foam,
  There yonder where that smoke is most intense."
Even as the frogs before the hostile serpent
  Across the water scatter all abroad,
  Until each one is huddled in the earth.
More than a thousand ruined souls I saw,
  Thus fleeing from before one who on foot
  Was passing o'er the Styx with soles unwet.
From off his face he fanned that unctuous air,
  Waving his left hand oft in front of him,
  And only with that anguish seemed he weary.
Well I perceived one sent from Heaven was he,
  And to the Master turned; and he made sign
  That I should quiet stand, and bow before him.
Ah! how disdainful he appeared to me!
  He reached the gate, and with a little rod
  He opened it, for there was no resistance.
"O banished out of Heaven, people despised!"
  Thus he began upon the horrid threshold;
  "Whence is this arrogance within you couched?
Wherefore recalcitrate against that will,
  From which the end can never be cut off,
  And which has many times increased your pain?
What helpeth it to butt against the fates?
  Your Cerberus, if you remember well,
  For that still bears his chin and gullet peeled."
Then he returned along the miry road,
  And spake no word to us, but had the look
  Of one whom other care constrains and goads
Than that of him who in his presence is;
  And we our feet directed tow'rds the city,
  After those holy words all confident.
Within we entered without any contest;
  And I, who inclination had to see
  What the condition such a fortress holds,
Soon as I was within, cast round mine eye,
  And see on every hand an ample plain,
  Full of distress and torment terrible.
Even as at Arles, where stagnant grows the Rhone,
  Even as at Pola near to the Quarnaro,
  That shuts in Italy and bathes its borders,
The sepulchres make all the place uneven;
  So likewise did they there on every side,
  Saving that there the manner was more bitter;
For flames between the sepulchres were scattered,
  By which they so intensely heated were,
  That iron more so asks not any art.
All of their coverings uplifted were,
  And from them issued forth such dire laments,
  Sooth seemed they of the wretched and tormented.
And I: "My Master, what are all those people
  Who, having sepulture within those tombs,
  Make themselves audible by doleful sighs?"
And he to me: "Here are the Heresiarchs,
  With their disciples of all sects, and much
  More than thou thinkest laden are the tombs.
Here like together with its like is buried;
  And more and less the monuments are heated."
  And when he to the right had turned, we passed
Between the torments and high parapets.
Inferno: Canto X
Now onward goes, along a narrow path
  Between the torments and the city wall,
  My Master, and I follow at his back.
"O power supreme, that through these impious circles
  Turnest me," I began, "as pleases thee,
  Speak to me, and my longings satisfy;
The people who are lying in these tombs,
  Might they be seen? already are uplifted
  The covers all, and no one keepeth guard."
And he to me: "They all will be closed up
  When from Jehoshaphat they shall return
  Here with the bodies they have left above.
Their cemetery have upon this side
  With Epicurus all his followers,
  Who with the body mortal make the soul;
But in the question thou dost put to me,
  Within here shalt thou soon be satisfied,
  And likewise in the wish thou keepest silent."
And I: "Good Leader, I but keep concealed
  From thee my heart, that I may speak the less,
  Nor only now hast thou thereto disposed me."
"O Tuscan, thou who through the city of fire
  Goest alive, thus speaking modestly,
  Be pleased to stay thy footsteps in this place.
Thy mode of speaking makes thee manifest
  A native of that noble fatherland,
  To which perhaps I too molestful was."
Upon a sudden issued forth this sound
  From out one of the tombs; wherefore I pressed,
  Fearing, a little nearer to my Leader.
And unto me he said: "Turn thee; what dost thou?
  Behold there Farinata who has risen;
  From the waist upwards wholly shalt thou see him."
I had already fixed mine eyes on his,
  And he uprose erect with breast and front
  E'en as if Hell he had in great despite.
And with courageous hands and prompt my Leader
  Thrust me between the sepulchres towards him,
  Exclaiming, "Let thy words explicit be."
As soon as I was at the foot of his tomb
  Somewhat he eyed me, and, as if disdainful,
  Then asked of me, "Who were thine ancestors?"
I, who desirous of obeying was,
  Concealed it not, but all revealed to him;
  Whereat he raised his brows a little upward.
Then said he: "Fiercely adverse have they been
  To me, and to my fathers, and my party;
  So that two several times I scattered them."
"If they were banished, they returned on all sides,"
  I answered him, "the first time and the second;
  But yours have not acquired that art aright."
Then there uprose upon the sight, uncovered
  Down to the chin, a shadow at his side;
  I think that he had risen on his knees.
Round me he gazed, as if solicitude
  He had to see if some one else were with me,
  But after his suspicion was all spent,
Weeping, he said to me: "If through this blind
  Prison thou goest by loftiness of genius,
  Where is my son? and why is he not with thee?"
And I to him: "I come not of myself;
  He who is waiting yonder leads me here,
  Whom in disdain perhaps your Guido had."
His language and the mode of punishment
  Already unto me had read his name;
  On that account my answer was so full.
Up starting suddenly, he cried out: "How
  Saidst thou,--he had?  Is he not still alive?
  Does not the sweet light strike upon his eyes?"
When he became aware of some delay,
  Which I before my answer made, supine
  He fell again, and forth appeared no more.
But the other, magnanimous, at whose desire
  I had remained, did not his aspect change,
  Neither his neck he moved, nor bent his side.
"And if," continuing his first discourse,
  "They have that art," he said, "not learned aright,
  That more tormenteth me, than doth this bed.
But fifty times shall not rekindled be
  The countenance of the Lady who reigns here,
  Ere thou shalt know how heavy is that art;
And as thou wouldst to the sweet world return,
  Say why that people is so pitiless
  Against my race in each one of its laws?"
Whence I to him: "The slaughter and great carnage
  Which have with crimson stained the Arbia, cause
  Such orisons in our temple to be made."
After his head he with a sigh had shaken,
  "There I was not alone," he said, "nor surely
  Without a cause had with the others moved.
But there I was alone, where every one
  Consented to the laying waste of Florence,
  He who defended her with open face."
"Ah! so hereafter may your seed repose,"
  I him entreated, "solve for me that knot,
  Which has entangled my conceptions here.
It seems that you can see, if I hear rightly,
  Beforehand whatsoe'er time brings with it,
  And in the present have another mode."
"We see, like those who have imperfect sight,
  The things," he said, "that distant are from us;
  So much still shines on us the Sovereign Ruler.
When they draw near, or are, is wholly vain
  Our intellect, and if none brings it to us,
  Not anything know we of your human state.
Hence thou canst understand, that wholly dead
  Will be our knowledge from the moment when
  The portal of the future shall be closed."
Then I, as if compunctious for my fault,
  Said: "Now, then, you will tell that fallen one,
  That still his son is with the living joined.
And if just now, in answering, I was dumb,
  Tell him I did it because I was thinking
  Already of the error you have solved me."
And now my Master was recalling me,
  Wherefore more eagerly I prayed the spirit
  That he would tell me who was with him there.
He said: "With more than a thousand here I lie;
  Within here is the second Frederick,
  And the Cardinal, and of the rest I speak not."
Thereon he hid himself; and I towards
  The ancient poet turned my steps, reflecting
  Upon that saying, which seemed hostile to me.
He moved along; and afterward thus going,
  He said to me, "Why art thou so bewildered?"
  And I in his inquiry satisfied him.
"Let memory preserve what thou hast heard
  Against thyself," that Sage commanded me,
  "And now attend here;" and he raised his finger.
"When thou shalt be before the radiance sweet
  Of her whose beauteous eyes all things behold,
  From her thou'lt know the journey of thy life."
Unto the left hand then he turned his feet;
  We left the wall, and went towards the middle,
  Along a path that strikes into a valley,
Which even up there unpleasant made its stench.
Inferno: Canto XI
Upon the margin of a lofty bank
  Which great rocks broken in a circle made,
  We came upon a still more cruel throng;
And there, by reason of the horrible
  Excess of stench the deep abyss throws out,
  We drew ourselves aside behind the cover
Of a great tomb, whereon I saw a writing,
  Which said: "Pope Anastasius I hold,
  Whom out of the right way Photinus drew."
"Slow it behoveth our descent to be,
  So that the sense be first a little used
  To the sad blast, and then we shall not heed it."
The Master thus; and unto him I said,
  "Some compensation find, that the time pass not
  Idly;" and he: "Thou seest I think of that.
My son, upon the inside of these rocks,"
  Began he then to say, "are three small circles,
  From grade to grade, like those which thou art leaving.
They all are full of spirits maledict;
  But that hereafter sight alone suffice thee,
  Hear how and wherefore they are in constraint.
Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven,
  Injury is the end; and all such end
  Either by force or fraud afflicteth others.
But because fraud is man's peculiar vice,
  More it displeases God; and so stand lowest
  The fraudulent, and greater dole assails them.
All the first circle of the Violent is;
  But since force may be used against three persons,
  In three rounds 'tis divided and constructed.
To God, to ourselves, and to our neighbour can we
  Use force; I say on them and on their things,
  As thou shalt hear with reason manifest.
A death by violence, and painful wounds,
  Are to our neighbour given; and in his substance
  Ruin, and arson, and injurious levies;
Whence homicides, and he who smites unjustly,
  Marauders, and freebooters, the first round
  Tormenteth all in companies diverse.
Man may lay violent hands upon himself
  And his own goods; and therefore in the second
  Round must perforce without avail repent
Whoever of your world deprives himself,
  Who games, and dissipates his property,
  And weepeth there, where he should jocund be.
Violence can be done the Deity,
  In heart denying and blaspheming Him,
  And by disdaining Nature and her bounty.
And for this reason doth the smallest round
  Seal with its signet Sodom and Cahors,
  And who, disdaining God, speaks from the heart.
Fraud, wherewithal is every conscience stung,
  A man may practise upon him who trusts,
  And him who doth no confidence imburse.
This latter mode, it would appear, dissevers
  Only the bond of love which Nature makes;
  Wherefore within the second circle nestle
Hypocrisy, flattery, and who deals in magic,
  Falsification, theft, and simony,
  Panders, and barrators, and the like filth.
By the other mode, forgotten is that love
  Which Nature makes, and what is after added,
  From which there is a special faith engendered.
Hence in the smallest circle, where the point is
  Of the Universe, upon which Dis is seated,
  Whoe'er betrays for ever is consumed."
And I: "My Master, clear enough proceeds
  Thy reasoning, and full well distinguishes
  This cavern and the people who possess it.
But tell me, those within the fat lagoon,
  Whom the wind drives, and whom the rain doth beat,
  And who encounter with such bitter tongues,
Wherefore are they inside of the red city
  Not punished, if God has them in his wrath,
  And if he has not, wherefore in such fashion?"
And unto me he said: "Why wanders so
  Thine intellect from that which it is wont?
  Or, sooth, thy mind where is it elsewhere looking?
Hast thou no recollection of those words
  With which thine Ethics thoroughly discusses
  The dispositions three, that Heaven abides not,--
Incontinence, and Malice, and insane
  Bestiality? and how Incontinence
  Less God offendeth, and less blame attracts?
If thou regardest this conclusion well,
  And to thy mind recallest who they are
  That up outside are undergoing penance,
Clearly wilt thou perceive why from these felons
  They separated are, and why less wroth
  Justice divine doth smite them with its hammer."
"O Sun, that healest all distempered vision,
  Thou dost content me so, when thou resolvest,
  That doubting pleases me no less than knowing!
Once more a little backward turn thee," said I,
  "There where thou sayest that usury offends
  Goodness divine, and disengage the knot."
"Philosophy," he said, "to him who heeds it,
  Noteth, not only in one place alone,
  After what manner Nature takes her course
From Intellect Divine, and from its art;
  And if thy Physics carefully thou notest,
  After not many pages shalt thou find,
That this your art as far as possible
  Follows, as the disciple doth the master;
  So that your art is, as it were, God's grandchild.
From these two, if thou bringest to thy mind
  Genesis at the beginning, it behoves
  Mankind to gain their life and to advance;
And since the usurer takes another way,
  Nature herself and in her follower
  Disdains he, for elsewhere he puts his hope.
But follow, now, as I would fain go on,
  For quivering are the Fishes on the horizon,
  And the Wain wholly over Caurus lies,
And far beyond there we descend the crag."
Inferno: Canto XII
The place where to descend the bank we came
  Was alpine, and from what was there, moreover,
  Of such a kind that every eye would shun it.
Such as that ruin is which in the flank
  Smote, on this side of Trent, the Adige,
  Either by earthquake or by failing stay,
For from the mountain's top, from which it moved,
  Unto the plain the cliff is shattered so,
  Some path 'twould give to him who was above;
Even such was the descent of that ravine,
  And on the border of the broken chasm
  The infamy of Crete was stretched along,
Who was conceived in the fictitious cow;
  And when he us beheld, he bit himself,
  Even as one whom anger racks within.
My Sage towards him shouted: "Peradventure
  Thou think'st that here may be the Duke of Athens,
  Who in the world above brought death to thee?
Get thee gone, beast, for this one cometh not
  Instructed by thy sister, but he comes
  In order to behold your punishments."
As is that bull who breaks loose at the moment
  In which he has received the mortal blow,
  Who cannot walk, but staggers here and there,
The Minotaur beheld I do the like;
  And he, the wary, cried: "Run to the passage;
  While he wroth, 'tis well thou shouldst descend."
Thus down we took our way o'er that discharge
  Of stones, which oftentimes did move themselves
  Beneath my feet, from the unwonted burden.
Thoughtful I went; and he said: "Thou art thinking
  Perhaps upon this ruin, which is guarded
  By that brute anger which just now I quenched.
Now will I have thee know, the other time
  I here descended to the nether Hell,
  This precipice had not yet fallen down.
But truly, if I well discern, a little
  Before His coming who the mighty spoil
  Bore off from Dis, in the supernal circle,
Upon all sides the deep and loathsome valley
  Trembled so, that I thought the Universe
  Was thrilled with love, by which there are who think
The world ofttimes converted into chaos;
  And at that moment this primeval crag
  Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow.
But fix thine eyes below; for draweth near
  The river of blood, within which boiling is
  Whoe'er by violence doth injure others."
O blind cupidity, O wrath insane,
  That spurs us onward so in our short life,
  And in the eternal then so badly steeps us!
I saw an ample moat bent like a bow,
  As one which all the plain encompasses,
  Conformable to what my Guide had said.
And between this and the embankment's foot
  Centaurs in file were running, armed with arrows,
  As in the world they used the chase to follow.
Beholding us descend, each one stood still,
  And from the squadron three detached themselves,
  With bows and arrows in advance selected;
And from afar one cried: "Unto what torment
  Come ye, who down the hillside are descending?
  Tell us from there; if not, I draw the bow."
My Master said: "Our answer will we make
  To Chiron, near you there; in evil hour,
  That will of thine was evermore so hasty."
Then touched he me, and said: "This one is Nessus,
  Who perished for the lovely Dejanira,
  And for himself, himself did vengeance take.
And he in the midst, who at his breast is gazing,
  Is the great Chiron, who brought up Achilles;
  That other Pholus is, who was so wrathful.
Thousands and thousands go about the moat
  Shooting with shafts whatever soul emerges
  Out of the blood, more than his crime allots."
Near we approached unto those monsters fleet;
  Chiron an arrow took, and with the notch
  Backward upon his jaws he put his beard.
After he had uncovered his great mouth,
  He said to his companions: "Are you ware
  That he behind moveth whate'er he touches?
Thus are not wont to do the feet of dead men."
  And my good Guide, who now was at his breast,
  Where the two natures are together joined,
Replied: "Indeed he lives, and thus alone
  Me it behoves to show him the dark valley;
  Necessity, and not delight, impels us.
Some one withdrew from singing Halleluja,
  Who unto me committed this new office;
  No thief is he, nor I a thievish spirit.
But by that virtue through which I am moving
  My steps along this savage thoroughfare,
  Give us some one of thine, to be with us,
And who may show us where to pass the ford,
  And who may carry this one on his back;
  For 'tis no spirit that can walk the air."
Upon his right breast Chiron wheeled about,
  And said to Nessus: "Turn and do thou guide them,
  And warn aside, if other band may meet you."
We with our faithful escort onward moved
  Along the brink of the vermilion boiling,
  Wherein the boiled were uttering loud laments.
People I saw within up to the eyebrows,
  And the great Centaur said: "Tyrants are these,
  Who dealt in bloodshed and in pillaging.
Here they lament their pitiless mischiefs; here
  Is Alexander, and fierce Dionysius
  Who upon Sicily brought dolorous years.
That forehead there which has the hair so black
  Is Azzolin; and the other who is blond,
  Obizzo is of Esti, who, in truth,
Up in the world was by his stepson slain."
  Then turned I to the Poet; and he said,
  "Now he be first to thee, and second I."
A little farther on the Centaur stopped
  Above a folk, who far down as the throat
  Seemed from that boiling stream to issue forth.
A shade he showed us on one side alone,
  Saying: "He cleft asunder in God's bosom
  The heart that still upon the Thames is honoured."
Then people saw I, who from out the river
  Lifted their heads and also all the chest;
  And many among these I recognised.
Thus ever more and more grew shallower
  That blood, so that the feet alone it covered;
  And there across the moat our passage was.
"Even as thou here upon this side beholdest
  The boiling stream, that aye diminishes,"
  The Centaur said, "I wish thee to believe
That on this other more and more declines
  Its bed, until it reunites itself
  Where it behoveth tyranny to groan.
Justice divine, upon this side, is goading
  That Attila, who was a scourge on earth,
  And Pyrrhus, and Sextus; and for ever milks
The tears which with the boiling it unseals
  In Rinier da Corneto and Rinier Pazzo,
  Who made upon the highways so much war."
Then back he turned, and passed again the ford.
Inferno: Canto XIII
Not yet had Nessus reached the other side,
  When we had put ourselves within a wood,
  That was not marked by any path whatever.
Not foliage green, but of a dusky colour,
  Not branches smooth, but gnarled and intertangled,
  Not apple-trees were there, but thorns with poison.
Such tangled thickets have not, nor so dense,
  Those savage wild beasts, that in hatred hold
  'Twixt Cecina and Corneto the tilled places.
There do the hideous Harpies make their nests,
  Who chased the Trojans from the Strophades,
  With sad announcement of impending doom;
Broad wings have they, and necks and faces human,
  And feet with claws, and their great bellies fledged;
  They make laments upon the wondrous trees.
And the good Master: "Ere thou enter farther,
  Know that thou art within the second round,"
  Thus he began to say, "and shalt be, till
Thou comest out upon the horrible sand;
  Therefore look well around, and thou shalt see
  Things that will credence give unto my speech."
I heard on all sides lamentations uttered,
  And person none beheld I who might make them,
  Whence, utterly bewildered, I stood still.
I think he thought that I perhaps might think
  So many voices issued through those trunks
  From people who concealed themselves from us;
Therefore the Master said: "If thou break off
  Some little spray from any of these trees,
  The thoughts thou hast will wholly be made vain."
Then stretched I forth my hand a little forward,
  And plucked a branchlet off from a great thorn;
  And the trunk cried, "Why dost thou mangle me?"
After it had become embrowned with blood,
  It recommenced its cry: "Why dost thou rend me?
  Hast thou no spirit of pity whatsoever?
Men once we were, and now are changed to trees;
  Indeed, thy hand should be more pitiful,
  Even if the souls of serpents we had been."
As out of a green brand, that is on fire
  At one of the ends, and from the other drips
  And hisses with the wind that is escaping;
So from that splinter issued forth together
  Both words and blood; whereat I let the tip
  Fall, and stood like a man who is afraid.
"Had he been able sooner to believe,"
  My Sage made answer, "O thou wounded soul,
  What only in my verses he has seen,
Not upon thee had he stretched forth his hand;
  Whereas the thing incredible has caused me
  To put him to an act which grieveth me.
But tell him who thou wast, so that by way
  Of some amends thy fame he may refresh
  Up in the world, to which he can return."
And the trunk said: "So thy sweet words allure me,
  I cannot silent be; and you be vexed not,
  That I a little to discourse am tempted.
I am the one who both keys had in keeping
  Of Frederick's heart, and turned them to and fro
  So softly in unlocking and in locking,
That from his secrets most men I withheld;
  Fidelity I bore the glorious office
  So great, I lost thereby my sleep and pulses.
The courtesan who never from the dwelling
  Of Caesar turned aside her strumpet eyes,
  Death universal and the vice of courts,
Inflamed against me all the other minds,
  And they, inflamed, did so inflame Augustus,
  That my glad honours turned to dismal mournings.
My spirit, in disdainful exultation,
  Thinking by dying to escape disdain,
  Made me unjust against myself, the just.
I, by the roots unwonted of this wood,
  Do swear to you that never broke I faith
  Unto my lord, who was so worthy of honour;
And to the world if one of you return,
  Let him my memory comfort, which is lying
  Still prostrate from the blow that envy dealt it."
Waited awhile, and then: "Since he is silent,"
  The Poet said to me, "lose not the time,
  But speak, and question him, if more may please thee."
Whence I to him: "Do thou again inquire
  Concerning what thou thinks't will satisfy me;
  For I cannot, such pity is in my heart."
Therefore he recommenced: "So may the man
  Do for thee freely what thy speech implores,
  Spirit incarcerate, again be pleased
To tell us in what way the soul is bound
  Within these knots; and tell us, if thou canst,
  If any from such members e'er is freed."
Then blew the trunk amain, and afterward
  The wind was into such a voice converted:
  "With brevity shall be replied to you.
When the exasperated soul abandons
  The body whence it rent itself away,
  Minos consigns it to the seventh abyss.
It falls into the forest, and no part
  Is chosen for it; but where Fortune hurls it,
  There like a grain of spelt it germinates.
It springs a sapling, and a forest tree;
  The Harpies, feeding then upon its leaves,
  Do pain create, and for the pain an outlet.
Like others for our spoils shall we return;
  But not that any one may them revest,
  For 'tis not just to have what one casts off.
Here we shall drag them, and along the dismal
  Forest our bodies shall suspended be,
  Each to the thorn of his molested shade."
We were attentive still unto the trunk,
  Thinking that more it yet might wish to tell us,
  When by a tumult we were overtaken,
In the same way as he is who perceives
  The boar and chase approaching to his stand,
  Who hears the crashing of the beasts and branches;
And two behold! upon our left-hand side,
  Naked and scratched, fleeing so furiously,
  That of the forest, every fan they broke.
He who was in advance: "Now help, Death, help!"
  And the other one, who seemed to lag too much,
  Was shouting: "Lano, were not so alert
Those legs of thine at joustings of the Toppo!"
  And then, perchance because his breath was failing,
  He grouped himself together with a bush.
Behind them was the forest full of black
  She-mastiffs, ravenous, and swift of foot
  As greyhounds, who are issuing from the chain.
On him who had crouched down they set their teeth,
  And him they lacerated piece by piece,
  Thereafter bore away those aching members.
Thereat my Escort took me by the hand,
  And led me to the bush, that all in vain
  Was weeping from its bloody lacerations.
"O Jacopo," it said, "of Sant' Andrea,
  What helped it thee of me to make a screen?
  What blame have I in thy nefarious life?"
When near him had the Master stayed his steps,
  He said: "Who wast thou, that through wounds so many
  Art blowing out with blood thy dolorous speech?"
And he to us: "O souls, that hither come
  To look upon the shameful massacre
  That has so rent away from me my leaves,
Gather them up beneath the dismal bush;
  I of that city was which to the Baptist
  Changed its first patron, wherefore he for this
Forever with his art will make it sad.
  And were it not that on the pass of Arno
  Some glimpses of him are remaining still,
Those citizens, who afterwards rebuilt it
  Upon the ashes left by Attila,
  In vain had caused their labour to be done.
Of my own house I made myself a gibbet."
Inferno: Canto XIV
Because the charity of my native place
  Constrained me, gathered I the scattered leaves,
  And gave them back to him, who now was hoarse.
Then came we to the confine, where disparted
  The second round is from the third, and where
  A horrible form of Justice is beheld.
Clearly to manifest these novel things,
  I say that we arrived upon a plain,
  Which from its bed rejecteth every plant;
The dolorous forest is a garland to it
  All round about, as the sad moat to that;
  There close upon the edge we stayed our feet.
The soil was of an arid and thick sand,
  Not of another fashion made than that
  Which by the feet of Cato once was pressed.
Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou
  By each one to be dreaded, who doth read
  That which was manifest unto mine eyes!
Of naked souls beheld I many herds,
  Who all were weeping very miserably,
  And over them seemed set a law diverse.
Supine upon the ground some folk were lying;
  And some were sitting all drawn up together,
  And others went about continually.
Those who were going round were far the more,
  And those were less who lay down to their torment,
  But had their tongues more loosed to lamentation.
O'er all the sand-waste, with a gradual fall,
  Were raining down dilated flakes of fire,
  As of the snow on Alp without a wind.
As Alexander, in those torrid parts
  Of India, beheld upon his host
  Flames fall unbroken till they reached the ground.
Whence he provided with his phalanxes
  To trample down the soil, because the vapour
  Better extinguished was while it was single;
Thus was descending the eternal heat,
  Whereby the sand was set on fire, like tinder
  Beneath the steel, for doubling of the dole.
Without repose forever was the dance
  Of miserable hands, now there, now here,
  Shaking away from off them the fresh gleeds.
"Master," began I, "thou who overcomest
  All things except the demons dire, that issued
  Against us at the entrance of the gate,
Who is that mighty one who seems to heed not
  The fire, and lieth lowering and disdainful,
  So that the rain seems not to ripen him?"
And he himself, who had become aware
  That I was questioning my Guide about him,
  Cried: "Such as I was living, am I, dead.
If Jove should weary out his smith, from whom
  He seized in anger the sharp thunderbolt,
  Wherewith upon the last day I was smitten,
And if he wearied out by turns the others
  In Mongibello at the swarthy forge,
  Vociferating, 'Help, good Vulcan, help!'
Even as he did there at the fight of Phlegra,
  And shot his bolts at me with all his might,
  He would not have thereby a joyous vengeance."
Then did my Leader speak with such great force,
  That I had never heard him speak so loud:
  "O Capaneus, in that is not extinguished
Thine arrogance, thou punished art the more;
  Not any torment, saving thine own rage,
  Would be unto thy fury pain complete."
Then he turned round to me with better lip,
  Saying: "One of the Seven Kings was he
  Who Thebes besieged, and held, and seems to hold
God in disdain, and little seems to prize him;
  But, as I said to him, his own despites
  Are for his breast the fittest ornaments.
Now follow me, and mind thou do not place
  As yet thy feet upon the burning sand,
  But always keep them close unto the wood."
Speaking no word, we came to where there gushes
  Forth from the wood a little rivulet,
  Whose redness makes my hair still stand on end.
As from the Bulicame springs the brooklet,
  The sinful women later share among them,
  So downward through the sand it went its way.
The bottom of it, and both sloping banks,
  Were made of stone, and the margins at the side;
  Whence I perceived that there the passage was.
"In all the rest which I have shown to thee
  Since we have entered in within the gate
  Whose threshold unto no one is denied,
Nothing has been discovered by thine eyes
  So notable as is the present river,
  Which all the little flames above it quenches."
These words were of my Leader; whence I prayed him
  That he would give me largess of the food,
  For which he had given me largess of desire.
"In the mid-sea there sits a wasted land,"
  Said he thereafterward, "whose name is Crete,
  Under whose king the world of old was chaste.
There is a mountain there, that once was glad
  With waters and with leaves, which was called Ida;
  Now 'tis deserted, as a thing worn out.
Rhea once chose it for the faithful cradle
  Of her own son; and to conceal him better,
  Whene'er he cried, she there had clamours made.
A grand old man stands in the mount erect,
  Who holds his shoulders turned tow'rds Damietta,
  And looks at Rome as if it were his mirror.
His head is fashioned of refined gold,
  And of pure silver are the arms and breast;
  Then he is brass as far down as the fork.
From that point downward all is chosen iron,
  Save that the right foot is of kiln-baked clay,
  And more he stands on that than on the other.
Each part, except the gold, is by a fissure
  Asunder cleft, that dripping is with tears,
  Which gathered together perforate that cavern.
From rock to rock they fall into this valley;
  Acheron, Styx, and Phlegethon they form;
  Then downward go along this narrow sluice
Unto that point where is no more descending.
  They form Cocytus; what that pool may be
  Thou shalt behold, so here 'tis not narrated."
And I to him: "If so the present runnel
  Doth take its rise in this way from our world,
  Why only on this verge appears it to us?"
And he to me: "Thou knowest the place is round,
  And notwithstanding thou hast journeyed far,
  Still to the left descending to the bottom,
Thou hast not yet through all the circle turned.
  Therefore if something new appear to us,
  It should not bring amazement to thy face."
And I again: "Master, where shall be found
  Lethe and Phlegethon, for of one thou'rt silent,
  And sayest the other of this rain is made?"
"In all thy questions truly thou dost please me,"
  Replied he; "but the boiling of the red
  Water might well solve one of them thou makest.
Thou shalt see Lethe, but outside this moat,
  There where the souls repair to lave themselves,
  When sin repented of has been removed."
Then said he: "It is time now to abandon
  The wood; take heed that thou come after me;
  A way the margins make that are not burning,
And over them all vapours are extinguished."
Inferno: Canto XV
Now bears us onward one of the hard margins,
  And so the brooklet's mist o'ershadows it,
  From fire it saves the water and the dikes.
Even as the Flemings, 'twixt Cadsand and Bruges,
  Fearing the flood that tow'rds them hurls itself,
  Their bulwarks build to put the sea to flight;
And as the Paduans along the Brenta,
  To guard their villas and their villages,
  Or ever Chiarentana feel the heat;
In such similitude had those been made,
  Albeit not so lofty nor so thick,
  Whoever he might be, the master made them.
Now were we from the forest so remote,
  I could not have discovered where it was,
  Even if backward I had turned myself,
When we a company of souls encountered,
  Who came beside the dike, and every one
  Gazed at us, as at evening we are wont
To eye each other under a new moon,
  And so towards us sharpened they their brows
  As an old tailor at the needle's eye.
Thus scrutinised by such a family,
  By some one I was recognised, who seized
  My garment's hem, and cried out, "What a marvel!"
And I, when he stretched forth his arm to me,
  On his baked aspect fastened so mine eyes,
  That the scorched countenance prevented not
His recognition by my intellect;
  And bowing down my face unto his own,
  I made reply, "Are you here, Ser Brunetto?"
And he: "May't not displease thee, O my son,
  If a brief space with thee Brunetto Latini
  Backward return and let the trail go on."
I said to him: "With all my power I ask it;
  And if you wish me to sit down with you,
  I will, if he please, for I go with him."
"O son," he said, "whoever of this herd
  A moment stops, lies then a hundred years,
  Nor fans himself when smiteth him the fire.
Therefore go on; I at thy skirts will come,
  And afterward will I rejoin my band,
  Which goes lamenting its eternal doom."
I did not dare to go down from the road
  Level to walk with him; but my head bowed
  I held as one who goeth reverently.
And he began: "What fortune or what fate
  Before the last day leadeth thee down here?
  And who is this that showeth thee the way?"
"Up there above us in the life serene,"
  I answered him, "I lost me in a valley,
  Or ever yet my age had been completed.
But yestermorn I turned my back upon it;
  This one appeared to me, returning thither,
  And homeward leadeth me along this road."
And he to me: "If thou thy star do follow,
  Thou canst not fail thee of a glorious port,
  If well I judged in the life beautiful.
And if I had not died so prematurely,
  Seeing Heaven thus benignant unto thee,
  I would have given thee comfort in the work.
But that ungrateful and malignant people,
  Which of old time from Fesole descended,
  And smacks still of the mountain and the granite,
Will make itself, for thy good deeds, thy foe;
  And it is right; for among crabbed sorbs
  It ill befits the sweet fig to bear fruit.
Old rumour in the world proclaims them blind;
  A people avaricious, envious, proud;
  Take heed that of their customs thou do cleanse thee.
Thy fortune so much honour doth reserve thee,
  One party and the other shall be hungry
  For thee; but far from goat shall be the grass.
Their litter let the beasts of Fesole
  Make of themselves, nor let them touch the plant,
  If any still upon their dunghill rise,
In which may yet revive the consecrated
  Seed of those Romans, who remained there when
  The nest of such great malice it became."
"If my entreaty wholly were fulfilled,"
  Replied I to him, "not yet would you be
  In banishment from human nature placed;
For in my mind is fixed, and touches now
  My heart the dear and good paternal image
  Of you, when in the world from hour to hour
You taught me how a man becomes eternal;
  And how much I am grateful, while I live
  Behoves that in my language be discerned.
What you narrate of my career I write,
  And keep it to be glossed with other text
  By a Lady who can do it, if I reach her.
This much will I have manifest to you;
  Provided that my conscience do not chide me,
  For whatsoever Fortune I am ready.
Such handsel is not new unto mine ears;
  Therefore let Fortune turn her wheel around
  As it may please her, and the churl his mattock."
My Master thereupon on his right cheek
  Did backward turn himself, and looked at me;
  Then said: "He listeneth well who noteth it."
Nor speaking less on that account, I go
  With Ser Brunetto, and I ask who are
  His most known and most eminent companions.
And he to me: "To know of some is well;
  Of others it were laudable to be silent,
  For short would be the time for so much speech.
Know them in sum, that all of them were clerks,
  And men of letters great and of great fame,
  In the world tainted with the selfsame sin.
Priscian goes yonder with that wretched crowd,
  And Francis of Accorso; and thou hadst seen there
  If thou hadst had a hankering for such scurf,
That one, who by the Servant of the Servants
  From Arno was transferred to Bacchiglione,
  Where he has left his sin-excited nerves.
More would I say, but coming and discoursing
  Can be no longer; for that I behold
  New smoke uprising yonder from the sand.
A people comes with whom I may not be;
  Commended unto thee be my Tesoro,
  In which I still live, and no more I ask."
Then he turned round, and seemed to be of those
  Who at Verona run for the Green Mantle
  Across the plain; and seemed to be among them
The one who wins, and not the one who loses.
Inferno: Canto XVI
Now was I where was heard the reverberation
  Of water falling into the next round,
  Like to that humming which the beehives make,
When shadows three together started forth,
  Running, from out a company that passed
  Beneath the rain of the sharp martyrdom.
Towards us came they, and each one cried out:
  "Stop, thou; for by thy garb to us thou seemest
  To be some one of our depraved city."
Ah me! what wounds I saw upon their limbs,
  Recent and ancient by the flames burnt in!
  It pains me still but to remember it.
Unto their cries my Teacher paused attentive;
  He turned his face towards me, and "Now wait,"
  He said; "to these we should be courteous.
And if it were not for the fire that darts
  The nature of this region, I should say
  That haste were more becoming thee than them."
As soon as we stood still, they recommenced
  The old refrain, and when they overtook us,
  Formed of themselves a wheel, all three of them.
As champions stripped and oiled are wont to do,
  Watching for their advantage and their hold,
  Before they come to blows and thrusts between them,
Thus, wheeling round, did every one his visage
  Direct to me, so that in opposite wise
  His neck and feet continual journey made.
And, "If the misery of this soft place
  Bring in disdain ourselves and our entreaties,"
  Began one, "and our aspect black and blistered,
Let the renown of us thy mind incline
  To tell us who thou art, who thus securely
  Thy living feet dost move along through Hell.
He in whose footprints thou dost see me treading,
  Naked and skinless though he now may go,
  Was of a greater rank than thou dost think;
He was the grandson of the good Gualdrada;
  His name was Guidoguerra, and in life
  Much did he with his wisdom and his sword.
The other, who close by me treads the sand,
  Tegghiaio Aldobrandi is, whose fame
  Above there in the world should welcome be.
And I, who with them on the cross am placed,
  Jacopo Rusticucci was; and truly
  My savage wife, more than aught else, doth harm me."
Could I have been protected from the fire,
  Below I should have thrown myself among them,
  And think the Teacher would have suffered it;
But as I should have burned and baked myself,
  My terror overmastered my good will,
  Which made me greedy of embracing them.
Then I began: "Sorrow and not disdain
  Did your condition fix within me so,
  That tardily it wholly is stripped off,
As soon as this my Lord said unto me
  Words, on account of which I thought within me
  That people such as you are were approaching.
I of your city am; and evermore
  Your labours and your honourable names
  I with affection have retraced and heard.
I leave the gall, and go for the sweet fruits
  Promised to me by the veracious Leader;
  But to the centre first I needs must plunge."
"So may the soul for a long while conduct
  Those limbs of thine," did he make answer then,
  "And so may thy renown shine after thee,
Valour and courtesy, say if they dwell
  Within our city, as they used to do,
  Or if they wholly have gone out of it;
For Guglielmo Borsier, who is in torment
  With us of late, and goes there with his comrades,
  Doth greatly mortify us with his words."
"The new inhabitants and the sudden gains,
  Pride and extravagance have in thee engendered,
  Florence, so that thou weep'st thereat already!"
In this wise I exclaimed with face uplifted;
  And the three, taking that for my reply,
  Looked at each other, as one looks at truth.
"If other times so little it doth cost thee,"
  Replied they all, "to satisfy another,
  Happy art thou, thus speaking at thy will!
Therefore, if thou escape from these dark places,
  And come to rebehold the beauteous stars,
  When it shall pleasure thee to say, 'I was,'
See that thou speak of us unto the people."
  Then they broke up the wheel, and in their flight
  It seemed as if their agile legs were wings.
Not an Amen could possibly be said
  So rapidly as they had disappeared;
  Wherefore the Master deemed best to depart.
I followed him, and little had we gone,
  Before the sound of water was so near us,
  That speaking we should hardly have been heard.
Even as that stream which holdeth its own course
  The first from Monte Veso tow'rds the East,
  Upon the left-hand slope of Apennine,
Which is above called Acquacheta, ere
  It down descendeth into its low bed,
  And at Forli is vacant of that name,
Reverberates there above San Benedetto
  From Alps, by falling at a single leap,
  Where for a thousand there were room enough;
Thus downward from a bank precipitate,
  We found resounding that dark-tinted water,
  So that it soon the ear would have offended.
I had a cord around about me girt,
  And therewithal I whilom had designed
  To take the panther with the painted skin.
After I this had all from me unloosed,
  As my Conductor had commanded me,
  I reached it to him, gathered up and coiled,
Whereat he turned himself to the right side,
  And at a little distance from the verge,
  He cast it down into that deep abyss.
"It must needs be some novelty respond,"
  I said within myself, "to the new signal
  The Master with his eye is following so."
Ah me! how very cautious men should be
  With those who not alone behold the act,
  But with their wisdom look into the thoughts!
He said to me: "Soon there will upward come
  What I await; and what thy thought is dreaming
  Must soon reveal itself unto thy sight."
Aye to that truth which has the face of falsehood,
  A man should close his lips as far as may be,
  Because without his fault it causes shame;
But here I cannot; and, Reader, by the notes
  Of this my Comedy to thee I swear,
  So may they not be void of lasting favour,
Athwart that dense and darksome atmosphere
  I saw a figure swimming upward come,
  Marvellous unto every steadfast heart,
Even as he returns who goeth down
  Sometimes to clear an anchor, which has grappled
  Reef, or aught else that in the sea is hidden,
Who upward stretches, and draws in his feet.
Inferno: Canto XVII
"Behold the monster with the pointed tail,
  Who cleaves the hills, and breaketh walls and weapons,
  Behold him who infecteth all the world."
Thus unto me my Guide began to say,
  And beckoned him that he should come to shore,
  Near to the confine of the trodden marble;
And that uncleanly image of deceit
  Came up and thrust ashore its head and bust,
  But on the border did not drag its tail.
The face was as the face of a just man,
  Its semblance outwardly was so benign,
  And of a serpent all the trunk beside.
Two paws it had, hairy unto the armpits;
  The back, and breast, and both the sides it had
  Depicted o'er with nooses and with shields.
With colours more, groundwork or broidery
  Never in cloth did Tartars make nor Turks,
  Nor were such tissues by Arachne laid.
As sometimes wherries lie upon the shore,
  That part are in the water, part on land;
  And as among the guzzling Germans there,
The beaver plants himself to wage his war;
  So that vile monster lay upon the border,
  Which is of stone, and shutteth in the sand.
His tail was wholly quivering in the void,
  Contorting upwards the envenomed fork,
  That in the guise of scorpion armed its point.
The Guide said: "Now perforce must turn aside
  Our way a little, even to that beast
  Malevolent, that yonder coucheth him."
We therefore on the right side descended,
  And made ten steps upon the outer verge,
  Completely to avoid the sand and flame;
And after we are come to him, I see
  A little farther off upon the sand
  A people sitting near the hollow place.
Then said to me the Master: "So that full
  Experience of this round thou bear away,
  Now go and see what their condition is.
There let thy conversation be concise;
  Till thou returnest I will speak with him,
  That he concede to us his stalwart shoulders."
Thus farther still upon the outermost
  Head of that seventh circle all alone
  I went, where sat the melancholy folk.
Out of their eyes was gushing forth their woe;
  This way, that way, they helped them with their hands
  Now from the flames and now from the hot soil.
Not otherwise in summer do the dogs,
  Now with the foot, now with the muzzle, when
  By fleas, or flies, or gadflies, they are bitten.
When I had turned mine eyes upon the faces
  Of some, on whom the dolorous fire is falling,
  Not one of them I knew; but I perceived
That from the neck of each there hung a pouch,
  Which certain colour had, and certain blazon;
  And thereupon it seems their eyes are feeding.
And as I gazing round me come among them,
  Upon a yellow pouch I azure saw
  That had the face and posture of a lion.
Proceeding then the current of my sight,
  Another of them saw I, red as blood,
  Display a goose more white than butter is.
And one, who with an azure sow and gravid
  Emblazoned had his little pouch of white,
  Said unto me: "What dost thou in this moat?
Now get thee gone; and since thou'rt still alive,
  Know that a neighbour of mine, Vitaliano,
  Will have his seat here on my left-hand side.
A Paduan am I with these Florentines;
  Full many a time they thunder in mine ears,
  Exclaiming, 'Come the sovereign cavalier,
He who shall bring the satchel with three goats;'"
  Then twisted he his mouth, and forth he thrust
  His tongue, like to an ox that licks its nose.
And fearing lest my longer stay might vex
  Him who had warned me not to tarry long,
  Backward I turned me from those weary souls.
I found my Guide, who had already mounted
  Upon the back of that wild animal,
  And said to me: "Now be both strong and bold.
Now we descend by stairways such as these;
  Mount thou in front, for I will be midway,
  So that the tail may have no power to harm thee."
Such as he is who has so near the ague
  Of quartan that his nails are blue already,
  And trembles all, but looking at the shade;
Even such became I at those proffered words;
  But shame in me his menaces produced,
  Which maketh servant strong before good master.
I seated me upon those monstrous shoulders;
  I wished to say, and yet the voice came not
  As I believed, "Take heed that thou embrace me."
But he, who other times had rescued me
  In other peril, soon as I had mounted,
  Within his arms encircled and sustained me,
And said: "Now, Geryon, bestir thyself;
  The circles large, and the descent be little;
  Think of the novel burden which thou hast."
Even as the little vessel shoves from shore,
  Backward, still backward, so he thence withdrew;
  And when he wholly felt himself afloat,
There where his breast had been he turned his tail,
  And that extended like an eel he moved,
  And with his paws drew to himself the air.
A greater fear I do not think there was
  What time abandoned Phaeton the reins,
  Whereby the heavens, as still appears, were scorched;
Nor when the wretched Icarus his flanks
  Felt stripped of feathers by the melting wax,
  His father crying, "An ill way thou takest!"
Than was my own, when I perceived myself
  On all sides in the air, and saw extinguished
  The sight of everything but of the monster.
Onward he goeth, swimming slowly, slowly;
  Wheels and descends, but I perceive it only
  By wind upon my face and from below.
I heard already on the right the whirlpool
  Making a horrible crashing under us;
  Whence I thrust out my head with eyes cast downward.
Then was I still more fearful of the abyss;
  Because I fires beheld, and heard laments,
  Whereat I, trembling, all the closer cling.
I saw then, for before I had not seen it,
  The turning and descending, by great horrors
  That were approaching upon divers sides.
As falcon who has long been on the wing,
  Who, without seeing either lure or bird,
  Maketh the falconer say, "Ah me, thou stoopest,"
Descendeth weary, whence he started swiftly,
  Thorough a hundred circles, and alights
  Far from his master, sullen and disdainful;
Even thus did Geryon place us on the bottom,
  Close to the bases of the rough-hewn rock,
  And being disencumbered of our persons,
He sped away as arrow from the string.
Inferno: Canto XVIII
There is a place in Hell called Malebolge,
  Wholly of stone and of an iron colour,
  As is the circle that around it turns.
Right in the middle of the field malign
  There yawns a well exceeding wide and deep,
  Of which its place the structure will recount.
Round, then, is that enclosure which remains
  Between the well and foot of the high, hard bank,
  And has distinct in valleys ten its bottom.
As where for the protection of the walls
  Many and many moats surround the castles,
  The part in which they are a figure forms,
Just such an image those presented there;
  And as about such strongholds from their gates
  Unto the outer bank are little bridges,
So from the precipice's base did crags
  Project, which intersected dikes and moats,
  Unto the well that truncates and collects them.
Within this place, down shaken from the back
  Of Geryon, we found us; and the Poet
  Held to the left, and I moved on behind.
Upon my right hand I beheld new anguish,
  New torments, and new wielders of the lash,
  Wherewith the foremost Bolgia was replete.
Down at the bottom were the sinners naked;
  This side the middle came they facing us,
  Beyond it, with us, but with greater steps;
Even as the Romans, for the mighty host,
  The year of Jubilee, upon the bridge,
  Have chosen a mode to pass the people over;
For all upon one side towards the Castle
  Their faces have, and go unto St. Peter's;
  On the other side they go towards the Mountain.
This side and that, along the livid stone
  Beheld I horned demons with great scourges,
  Who cruelly were beating them behind.
Ah me! how they did make them lift their legs
  At the first blows! and sooth not any one
  The second waited for, nor for the third.
While I was going on, mine eyes by one
  Encountered were; and straight I said: "Already
  With sight of this one I am not unfed."
Therefore I stayed my feet to make him out,
  And with me the sweet Guide came to a stand,
  And to my going somewhat back assented;
And he, the scourged one, thought to hide himself,
  Lowering his face, but little it availed him;
  For said I: "Thou that castest down thine eyes,
If false are not the features which thou bearest,
  Thou art Venedico Caccianimico;
  But what doth bring thee to such pungent sauces?"
And he to me: "Unwillingly I tell it;
  But forces me thine utterance distinct,
  Which makes me recollect the ancient world.
I was the one who the fair Ghisola
  Induced to grant the wishes of the Marquis,
  Howe'er the shameless story may be told.
Not the sole Bolognese am I who weeps here;
  Nay, rather is this place so full of them,
  That not so many tongues to-day are taught
'Twixt Reno and Savena to say 'sipa;'
  And if thereof thou wishest pledge or proof,
  Bring to thy mind our avaricious heart."
While speaking in this manner, with his scourge
  A demon smote him, and said: "Get thee gone
  Pander, there are no women here for coin."
I joined myself again unto mine Escort;
  Thereafterward with footsteps few we came
  To where a crag projected from the bank.
This very easily did we ascend,
  And turning to the right along its ridge,
  From those eternal circles we departed.
When we were there, where it is hollowed out
  Beneath, to give a passage to the scourged,
  The Guide said: "Wait, and see that on thee strike
The vision of those others evil-born,
  Of whom thou hast not yet beheld the faces,
  Because together with us they have gone."
From the old bridge we looked upon the train
  Which tow'rds us came upon the other border,
  And which the scourges in like manner smite.
And the good Master, without my inquiring,
  Said to me: "See that tall one who is coming,
  And for his pain seems not to shed a tear;
Still what a royal aspect he retains!
  That Jason is, who by his heart and cunning
  The Colchians of the Ram made destitute.
He by the isle of Lemnos passed along
  After the daring women pitiless
  Had unto death devoted all their males.
There with his tokens and with ornate words
  Did he deceive Hypsipyle, the maiden
  Who first, herself, had all the rest deceived.
There did he leave her pregnant and forlorn;
  Such sin unto such punishment condemns him,
  And also for Medea is vengeance done.
With him go those who in such wise deceive;
  And this sufficient be of the first valley
  To know, and those that in its jaws it holds."
We were already where the narrow path
  Crosses athwart the second dike, and forms
  Of that a buttress for another arch.
Thence we heard people, who are making moan
  In the next Bolgia, snorting with their muzzles,
  And with their palms beating upon themselves
The margins were incrusted with a mould
  By exhalation from below, that sticks there,
  And with the eyes and nostrils wages war.
The bottom is so deep, no place suffices
  To give us sight of it, without ascending
  The arch's back, where most the crag impends.
Thither we came, and thence down in the moat
  I saw a people smothered in a filth
  That out of human privies seemed to flow;
And whilst below there with mine eye I search,
  I saw one with his head so foul with ordure,
  It was not clear if he were clerk or layman.
He screamed to me: "Wherefore art thou so eager
  To look at me more than the other foul ones?"
  And I to him: "Because, if I remember,
I have already seen thee with dry hair,
  And thou'rt Alessio Interminei of Lucca;
  Therefore I eye thee more than all the others."
And he thereon, belabouring his pumpkin:
  "The flatteries have submerged me here below,
  Wherewith my tongue was never surfeited."
Then said to me the Guide: "See that thou thrust
  Thy visage somewhat farther in advance,
  That with thine eyes thou well the face attain
Of that uncleanly and dishevelled drab,
  Who there doth scratch herself with filthy nails,
  And crouches now, and now on foot is standing.
Thais the harlot is it, who replied
  Unto her paramour, when he said, 'Have I
  Great gratitude from thee?'--'Nay, marvellous;'
And herewith let our sight be satisfied."
Inferno: Canto XIX
O Simon Magus, O forlorn disciples,
  Ye who the things of God, which ought to be
  The brides of holiness, rapaciously
For silver and for gold do prostitute,
  Now it behoves for you the trumpet sound,
  Because in this third Bolgia ye abide.
We had already on the following tomb
  Ascended to that portion of the crag
  Which o'er the middle of the moat hangs plumb.
Wisdom supreme, O how great art thou showest
  In heaven, in earth, and in the evil world,
  And with what justice doth thy power distribute!
I saw upon the sides and on the bottom
  The livid stone with perforations filled,
  All of one size, and every one was round.
To me less ample seemed they not, nor greater
  Than those that in my beautiful Saint John
  Are fashioned for the place of the baptisers,
And one of which, not many years ago,
  I broke for some one, who was drowning in it;
  Be this a seal all men to undeceive.
Out of the mouth of each one there protruded
  The feet of a transgressor, and the legs
  Up to the calf, the rest within remained.
In all of them the soles were both on fire;
  Wherefore the joints so violently quivered,
  They would have snapped asunder withes and bands.
Even as the flame of unctuous things is wont
  To move upon the outer surface only,
  So likewise was it there from heel to point.
"Master, who is that one who writhes himself,
  More than his other comrades quivering,"
  I said, "and whom a redder flame is sucking?"
And he to me: "If thou wilt have me bear thee
  Down there along that bank which lowest lies,
  From him thou'lt know his errors and himself."
And I: "What pleases thee, to me is pleasing;
  Thou art my Lord, and knowest that I depart not
  From thy desire, and knowest what is not spoken."
Straightway upon the fourth dike we arrived;
  We turned, and on the left-hand side descended
  Down to the bottom full of holes and narrow.
And the good Master yet from off his haunch
  Deposed me not, till to the hole he brought me
  Of him who so lamented with his shanks.
"Whoe'er thou art, that standest upside down,
  O doleful soul, implanted like a stake,"
  To say began I, "if thou canst, speak out."
I stood even as the friar who is confessing
  The false assassin, who, when he is fixed,
  Recalls him, so that death may be delayed.
And he cried out: "Dost thou stand there already,
  Dost thou stand there already, Boniface?
  By many years the record lied to me.
Art thou so early satiate with that wealth,
  For which thou didst not fear to take by fraud
  The beautiful Lady, and then work her woe?"
Such I became, as people are who stand,
  Not comprehending what is answered them,
  As if bemocked, and know not how to answer.
Then said Virgilius: "Say to him straightway,
  'I am not he, I am not he thou thinkest.'"
  And I replied as was imposed on me.
Whereat the spirit writhed with both his feet,
  Then, sighing, with a voice of lamentation
  Said to me: "Then what wantest thou of me?
If who I am thou carest so much to know,
  That thou on that account hast crossed the bank,
  Know that I vested was with the great mantle;
And truly was I son of the She-bear,
  So eager to advance the cubs, that wealth
  Above, and here myself, I pocketed.
Beneath my head the others are dragged down
  Who have preceded me in simony,
  Flattened along the fissure of the rock.
Below there I shall likewise fall, whenever
  That one shall come who I believed thou wast,
  What time the sudden question I proposed.
But longer I my feet already toast,
  And here have been in this way upside down,
  Than he will planted stay with reddened feet;
For after him shall come of fouler deed
  From tow'rds the west a Pastor without law,
  Such as befits to cover him and me.
New Jason will he be, of whom we read
  In Maccabees; and as his king was pliant,
  So he who governs France shall be to this one."
I do not know if I were here too bold,
  That him I answered only in this metre:
  "I pray thee tell me now how great a treasure
Our Lord demanded of Saint Peter first,
  Before he put the keys into his keeping?
  Truly he nothing asked but 'Follow me.'
Nor Peter nor the rest asked of Matthias
  Silver or gold, when he by lot was chosen
  Unto the place the guilty soul had lost.
Therefore stay here, for thou art justly punished,
  And keep safe guard o'er the ill-gotten money,
  Which caused thee to be valiant against Charles.
And were it not that still forbids it me
  The reverence for the keys superlative
  Thou hadst in keeping in the gladsome life,
I would make use of words more grievous still;
  Because your avarice afflicts the world,
  Trampling the good and lifting the depraved.
The Evangelist you Pastors had in mind,
  When she who sitteth upon many waters
  To fornicate with kings by him was seen;
The same who with the seven heads was born,
  And power and strength from the ten horns received,
  So long as virtue to her spouse was pleasing.
Ye have made yourselves a god of gold and silver;
  And from the idolater how differ ye,
  Save that he one, and ye a hundred worship?
Ah, Constantine! of how much ill was mother,
  Not thy conversion, but that marriage dower
  Which the first wealthy Father took from thee!"
And while I sang to him such notes as these,
  Either that anger or that conscience stung him,
  He struggled violently with both his feet.
I think in sooth that it my Leader pleased,
  With such contented lip he listened ever
  Unto the sound of the true words expressed.
Therefore with both his arms he took me up,
  And when he had me all upon his breast,
  Remounted by the way where he descended.
Nor did he tire to have me clasped to him;
  But bore me to the summit of the arch
  Which from the fourth dike to the fifth is passage.
There tenderly he laid his burden down,
  Tenderly on the crag uneven and steep,
  That would have been hard passage for the goats:
Thence was unveiled to me another valley.
Inferno: Canto XX
Of a new pain behoves me to make verses
  And give material to the twentieth canto
  Of the first song, which is of the submerged.
I was already thoroughly disposed
  To peer down into the uncovered depth,
  Which bathed itself with tears of agony;
And people saw I through the circular valley,
  Silent and weeping, coming at the pace
  Which in this world the Litanies assume.
As lower down my sight descended on them,
  Wondrously each one seemed to be distorted
  From chin to the beginning of the chest;
For tow'rds the reins the countenance was turned,
  And backward it behoved them to advance,
  As to look forward had been taken from them.
Perchance indeed by violence of palsy
  Some one has been thus wholly turned awry;
  But I ne'er saw it, nor believe it can be.
As God may let thee, Reader, gather fruit
  From this thy reading, think now for thyself
  How I could ever keep my face unmoistened,
When our own image near me I beheld
  Distorted so, the weeping of the eyes
  Along the fissure bathed the hinder parts.
Truly I wept, leaning upon a peak
  Of the hard crag, so that my Escort said
  To me: "Art thou, too, of the other fools?
Here pity lives when it is wholly dead;
  Who is a greater reprobate than he
  Who feels compassion at the doom divine?
Lift up, lift up thy head, and see for whom
  Opened the earth before the Thebans' eyes;
  Wherefore they all cried: 'Whither rushest thou,
Amphiaraus?  Why dost leave the war?'
  And downward ceased he not to fall amain
  As far as Minos, who lays hold on all.
See, he has made a bosom of his shoulders!
  Because he wished to see too far before him
  Behind he looks, and backward goes his way:
Behold Tiresias, who his semblance changed,
  When from a male a female he became,
  His members being all of them transformed;
And afterwards was forced to strike once more
  The two entangled serpents with his rod,
  Ere he could have again his manly plumes.
That Aruns is, who backs the other's belly,
  Who in the hills of Luni, there where grubs
  The Carrarese who houses underneath,
Among the marbles white a cavern had
  For his abode; whence to behold the stars
  And sea, the view was not cut off from him.
And she there, who is covering up her breasts,
  Which thou beholdest not, with loosened tresses,
  And on that side has all the hairy skin,
Was Manto, who made quest through many lands,
  Afterwards tarried there where I was born;
  Whereof I would thou list to me a little.
After her father had from life departed,
  And the city of Bacchus had become enslaved,
  She a long season wandered through the world.
Above in beauteous Italy lies a lake
  At the Alp's foot that shuts in Germany
  Over Tyrol, and has the name Benaco.
By a thousand springs, I think, and more, is bathed,
  'Twixt Garda and Val Camonica, Pennino,
  With water that grows stagnant in that lake.
Midway a place is where the Trentine Pastor,
  And he of Brescia, and the Veronese
  Might give his blessing, if he passed that way.
Sitteth Peschiera, fortress fair and strong,
  To front the Brescians and the Bergamasks,
  Where round about the bank descendeth lowest.
There of necessity must fall whatever
  In bosom of Benaco cannot stay,
  And grows a river down through verdant pastures.
Soon as the water doth begin to run,
  No more Benaco is it called, but Mincio,
  Far as Governo, where it falls in Po.
Not far it runs before it finds a plain
  In which it spreads itself, and makes it marshy,
  And oft 'tis wont in summer to be sickly.
Passing that way the virgin pitiless
  Land in the middle of the fen descried,
  Untilled and naked of inhabitants;
There to escape all human intercourse,
  She with her servants stayed, her arts to practise
  And lived, and left her empty body there.
The men, thereafter, who were scattered round,
  Collected in that place, which was made strong
  By the lagoon it had on every side;
They built their city over those dead bones,
  And, after her who first the place selected,
  Mantua named it, without other omen.
Its people once within more crowded were,
  Ere the stupidity of Casalodi
  From Pinamonte had received deceit.
Therefore I caution thee, if e'er thou hearest
  Originate my city otherwise,
  No falsehood may the verity defraud."
And I: "My Master, thy discourses are
  To me so certain, and so take my faith,
  That unto me the rest would be spent coals.
But tell me of the people who are passing,
  If any one note-worthy thou beholdest,
  For only unto that my mind reverts."
Then said he to me: "He who from the cheek
  Thrusts out his beard upon his swarthy shoulders
  Was, at the time when Greece was void of males,
So that there scarce remained one in the cradle,
  An augur, and with Calchas gave the moment,
  In Aulis, when to sever the first cable.
Eryphylus his name was, and so sings
  My lofty Tragedy in some part or other;
  That knowest thou well, who knowest the whole of it.
The next, who is so slender in the flanks,
  Was Michael Scott, who of a verity
  Of magical illusions knew the game.
Behold Guido Bonatti, behold Asdente,
  Who now unto his leather and his thread
  Would fain have stuck, but he too late repents.
Behold the wretched ones, who left the needle,
  The spool and rock, and made them fortune-tellers;
  They wrought their magic spells with herb and image.
But come now, for already holds the confines
  Of both the hemispheres, and under Seville
  Touches the ocean-wave, Cain and the thorns,
And yesternight the moon was round already;
  Thou shouldst remember well it did not harm thee
  From time to time within the forest deep."
Thus spake he to me, and we walked the while.
Inferno: Canto XXI
From bridge to bridge thus, speaking other things
  Of which my Comedy cares not to sing,
  We came along, and held the summit, when
We halted to behold another fissure
  Of Malebolge and other vain laments;
  And I beheld it marvellously dark.
As in the Arsenal of the Venetians
  Boils in the winter the tenacious pitch
  To smear their unsound vessels o'er again,
For sail they cannot; and instead thereof
  One makes his vessel new, and one recaulks
  The ribs of that which many a voyage has made;
One hammers at the prow, one at the stern,
  This one makes oars, and that one cordage twists,
  Another mends the mainsail and the mizzen;
Thus, not by fire, but by the art divine,
  Was boiling down below there a dense pitch
  Which upon every side the bank belimed.
I saw it, but I did not see within it
  Aught but the bubbles that the boiling raised,
  And all swell up and resubside compressed.
The while below there fixedly I gazed,
  My Leader, crying out: "Beware, beware!"
  Drew me unto himself from where I stood.
Then I turned round, as one who is impatient
  To see what it behoves him to escape,
  And whom a sudden terror doth unman,
Who, while he looks, delays not his departure;
  And I beheld behind us a black devil,
  Running along upon the crag, approach.
Ah, how ferocious was he in his aspect!
  And how he seemed to me in action ruthless,
  With open wings and light upon his feet!
His shoulders, which sharp-pointed were and high,
  A sinner did encumber with both haunches,
  And he held clutched the sinews of the feet.
From off our bridge, he said: "O Malebranche,
  Behold one of the elders of Saint Zita;
  Plunge him beneath, for I return for others
Unto that town, which is well furnished with them.
  All there are barrators, except Bonturo;
  No into Yes for money there is changed."
He hurled him down, and over the hard crag
  Turned round, and never was a mastiff loosened
  In so much hurry to pursue a thief.
The other sank, and rose again face downward;
  But the demons, under cover of the bridge,
  Cried: "Here the Santo Volto has no place!
Here swims one otherwise than in the Serchio;
  Therefore, if for our gaffs thou wishest not,
  Do not uplift thyself above the pitch."
They seized him then with more than a hundred rakes;
  They said: "It here behoves thee to dance covered,
  That, if thou canst, thou secretly mayest pilfer."
Not otherwise the cooks their scullions make
  Immerse into the middle of the caldron
  The meat with hooks, so that it may not float.
Said the good Master to me: "That it be not
  Apparent thou art here, crouch thyself down
  Behind a jag, that thou mayest have some screen;
And for no outrage that is done to me
  Be thou afraid, because these things I know,
  For once before was I in such a scuffle."
Then he passed on beyond the bridge's head,
  And as upon the sixth bank he arrived,
  Need was for him to have a steadfast front.
With the same fury, and the same uproar,
  As dogs leap out upon a mendicant,
  Who on a sudden begs, where'er he stops,
They issued from beneath the little bridge,
  And turned against him all their grappling-irons;
  But he cried out: "Be none of you malignant!
Before those hooks of yours lay hold of me,
  Let one of you step forward, who may hear me,
  And then take counsel as to grappling me."
They all cried out: "Let Malacoda go;"
  Whereat one started, and the rest stood still,
  And he came to him, saying: "What avails it?"
"Thinkest thou, Malacoda, to behold me
  Advanced into this place," my Master said,
  "Safe hitherto from all your skill of fence,
Without the will divine, and fate auspicious?
  Let me go on, for it in Heaven is willed
  That I another show this savage road."
Then was his arrogance so humbled in him,
  That he let fall his grapnel at his feet,
  And to the others said: "Now strike him not."
And unto me my Guide: "O thou, who sittest
  Among the splinters of the bridge crouched down,
  Securely now return to me again."
Wherefore I started and came swiftly to him;
  And all the devils forward thrust themselves,
  So that I feared they would not keep their compact.
And thus beheld I once afraid the soldiers
  Who issued under safeguard from Caprona,
  Seeing themselves among so many foes.
Close did I press myself with all my person
  Beside my Leader, and turned not mine eyes
  From off their countenance, which was not good.
They lowered their rakes, and "Wilt thou have me hit him,"
  They said to one another, "on the rump?"
  And answered: "Yes; see that thou nick him with it."
But the same demon who was holding parley
  With my Conductor turned him very quickly,
  And said: "Be quiet, be quiet, Scarmiglione;"
Then said to us: "You can no farther go
  Forward upon this crag, because is lying
  All shattered, at the bottom, the sixth arch.
And if it still doth please you to go onward,
  Pursue your way along upon this rock;
  Near is another crag that yields a path.
Yesterday, five hours later than this hour,
  One thousand and two hundred sixty-six
  Years were complete, that here the way was broken.
I send in that direction some of mine
  To see if any one doth air himself;
  Go ye with them; for they will not be vicious.
Step forward, Alichino and Calcabrina,"
  Began he to cry out, "and thou, Cagnazzo;
  And Barbariccia, do thou guide the ten.
Come forward, Libicocco and Draghignazzo,
  And tusked Ciriatto and Graffiacane,
  And Farfarello and mad Rubicante;
Search ye all round about the boiling pitch;
  Let these be safe as far as the next crag,
  That all unbroken passes o'er the dens."
"O me! what is it, Master, that I see?
  Pray let us go," I said, "without an escort,
  If thou knowest how, since for myself I ask none.
If thou art as observant as thy wont is,
  Dost thou not see that they do gnash their teeth,
  And with their brows are threatening woe to us?"
And he to me: "I will not have thee fear;
  Let them gnash on, according to their fancy,
  Because they do it for those boiling wretches."
Along the left-hand dike they wheeled about;
  But first had each one thrust his tongue between
  His teeth towards their leader for a signal;
And he had made a trumpet of his rump.
Inferno: Canto XXII
I have erewhile seen horsemen moving camp,
  Begin the storming, and their muster make,
  And sometimes starting off for their escape;
Vaunt-couriers have I seen upon your land,
  O Aretines, and foragers go forth,
  Tournaments stricken, and the joustings run,
Sometimes with trumpets and sometimes with bells,
  With kettle-drums, and signals of the castles,
  And with our own, and with outlandish things,
But never yet with bagpipe so uncouth
  Did I see horsemen move, nor infantry,
  Nor ship by any sign of land or star.
We went upon our way with the ten demons;
  Ah, savage company! but in the church
  With saints, and in the tavern with the gluttons!
Ever upon the pitch was my intent,
  To see the whole condition of that Bolgia,
  And of the people who therein were burned.
Even as the dolphins, when they make a sign
  To mariners by arching of the back,
  That they should counsel take to save their vessel,
Thus sometimes, to alleviate his pain,
  One of the sinners would display his back,
  And in less time conceal it than it lightens.
As on the brink of water in a ditch
  The frogs stand only with their muzzles out,
  So that they hide their feet and other bulk,
So upon every side the sinners stood;
  But ever as Barbariccia near them came,
  Thus underneath the boiling they withdrew.
I saw, and still my heart doth shudder at it,
  One waiting thus, even as it comes to pass
  One frog remains, and down another dives;
And Graffiacan, who most confronted him,
  Grappled him by his tresses smeared with pitch,
  And drew him up, so that he seemed an otter.
I knew, before, the names of all of them,
  So had I noted them when they were chosen,
  And when they called each other, listened how.
"O Rubicante, see that thou do lay
  Thy claws upon him, so that thou mayst flay him,"
  Cried all together the accursed ones.
And I: "My Master, see to it, if thou canst,
  That thou mayst know who is the luckless wight,
  Thus come into his adversaries' hands."
Near to the side of him my Leader drew,
  Asked of him whence he was; and he replied:
  "I in the kingdom of Navarre was born;
My mother placed me servant to a lord,
  For she had borne me to a ribald knave,
  Destroyer of himself and of his things.
Then I domestic was of good King Thibault;
  I set me there to practise barratry,
  For which I pay the reckoning in this heat."
And Ciriatto, from whose mouth projected,
  On either side, a tusk, as in a boar,
  Caused him to feel how one of them could rip.
Among malicious cats the mouse had come;
  But Barbariccia clasped him in his arms,
  And said: "Stand ye aside, while I enfork him."
And to my Master he turned round his head;
  "Ask him again," he said, "if more thou wish
  To know from him, before some one destroy him."
The Guide: "Now tell then of the other culprits;
  Knowest thou any one who is a Latian,
  Under the pitch?"  And he: "I separated
Lately from one who was a neighbour to it;
  Would that I still were covered up with him,
  For I should fear not either claw nor hook!"
And Libicocco: "We have borne too much;"
  And with his grapnel seized him by the arm,
  So that, by rending, he tore off a tendon.
Eke Draghignazzo wished to pounce upon him
  Down at the legs; whence their Decurion
  Turned round and round about with evil look.
When they again somewhat were pacified,
  Of him, who still was looking at his wound,
  Demanded my Conductor without stay:
"Who was that one, from whom a luckless parting
  Thou sayest thou hast made, to come ashore?"
  And he replied: "It was the Friar Gomita,
He of Gallura, vessel of all fraud,
  Who had the enemies of his Lord in hand,
  And dealt so with them each exults thereat;
Money he took, and let them smoothly off,
  As he says; and in other offices
  A barrator was he, not mean but sovereign.
Foregathers with him one Don Michael Zanche
  Of Logodoro; and of Sardinia
  To gossip never do their tongues feel tired.
O me! see that one, how he grinds his teeth;
  Still farther would I speak, but am afraid
  Lest he to scratch my itch be making ready."
And the grand Provost, turned to Farfarello,
  Who rolled his eyes about as if to strike,
  Said: "Stand aside there, thou malicious bird."
"If you desire either to see or hear,"
  The terror-stricken recommenced thereon,
  "Tuscans or Lombards, I will make them come.
But let the Malebranche cease a little,
  So that these may not their revenges fear,
  And I, down sitting in this very place,
For one that I am will make seven come,
  When I shall whistle, as our custom is
  To do whenever one of us comes out."
Cagnazzo at these words his muzzle lifted,
  Shaking his head, and said: "Just hear the trick
  Which he has thought of, down to throw himself!"
Whence he, who snares in great abundance had,
  Responded: "I by far too cunning am,
  When I procure for mine a greater sadness."
Alichin held not in, but running counter
  Unto the rest, said to him: "If thou dive,
  I will not follow thee upon the gallop,
But I will beat my wings above the pitch;
  The height be left, and be the bank a shield
  To see if thou alone dost countervail us."
O thou who readest, thou shalt hear new sport!
  Each to the other side his eyes averted;
  He first, who most reluctant was to do it.
The Navarrese selected well his time;
  Planted his feet on land, and in a moment
  Leaped, and released himself from their design.
Whereat each one was suddenly stung with shame,
  But he most who was cause of the defeat;
  Therefore he moved, and cried: "Thou art o'ertakern."
But little it availed, for wings could not
  Outstrip the fear; the other one went under,
  And, flying, upward he his breast directed;
Not otherwise the duck upon a sudden
  Dives under, when the falcon is approaching,
  And upward he returneth cross and weary.
Infuriate at the mockery, Calcabrina
  Flying behind him followed close, desirous
  The other should escape, to have a quarrel.
And when the barrator had disappeared,
  He turned his talons upon his companion,
  And grappled with him right above the moat.
But sooth the other was a doughty sparhawk
  To clapperclaw him well; and both of them
  Fell in the middle of the boiling pond.
A sudden intercessor was the heat;
  But ne'ertheless of rising there was naught,
  To such degree they had their wings belimed.
Lamenting with the others, Barbariccia
  Made four of them fly to the other side
  With all their gaffs, and very speedily
This side and that they to their posts descended;
  They stretched their hooks towards the pitch-ensnared,
  Who were already baked within the crust,
And in this manner busied did we leave them.
Inferno: Canto XXIII
Silent, alone, and without company
  We went, the one in front, the other after,
  As go the Minor Friars along their way.
Upon the fable of Aesop was directed
  My thought, by reason of the present quarrel,
  Where he has spoken of the frog and mouse;
For 'mo' and 'issa' are not more alike
  Than this one is to that, if well we couple
  End and beginning with a steadfast mind.
And even as one thought from another springs,
  So afterward from that was born another,
  Which the first fear within me double made.
Thus did I ponder: "These on our account
  Are laughed to scorn, with injury and scoff
  So great, that much I think it must annoy them.
If anger be engrafted on ill-will,
  They will come after us more merciless
  Than dog upon the leveret which he seizes,"
I felt my hair stand all on end already
  With terror, and stood backwardly intent,
  When said I: "Master, if thou hidest not
Thyself and me forthwith, of Malebranche
  I am in dread; we have them now behind us;
  I so imagine them, I already feel them."
And he: "If I were made of leaded glass,
  Thine outward image I should not attract
  Sooner to me than I imprint the inner.
Just now thy thoughts came in among my own,
  With similar attitude and similar face,
  So that of both one counsel sole I made.
If peradventure the right bank so slope
  That we to the next Bolgia can descend,
  We shall escape from the imagined chase."
Not yet he finished rendering such opinion,
  When I beheld them come with outstretched wings,
  Not far remote, with will to seize upon us.
My Leader on a sudden seized me up,
  Even as a mother who by noise is wakened,
  And close beside her sees the enkindled flames,
Who takes her son, and flies, and does not stop,
  Having more care of him than of herself,
  So that she clothes her only with a shift;
And downward from the top of the hard bank
  Supine he gave him to the pendent rock,
  That one side of the other Bolgia walls.
Ne'er ran so swiftly water through a sluice
  To turn the wheel of any land-built mill,
  When nearest to the paddles it approaches,
As did my Master down along that border,
  Bearing me with him on his breast away,
  As his own son, and not as a companion.
Hardly the bed of the ravine below
  His feet had reached, ere they had reached the hill
  Right over us; but he was not afraid;
For the high Providence, which had ordained
  To place them ministers of the fifth moat,
  The power of thence departing took from all.
A painted people there below we found,
  Who went about with footsteps very slow,
  Weeping and in their semblance tired and vanquished.
They had on mantles with the hoods low down
  Before their eyes, and fashioned of the cut
  That in Cologne they for the monks are made.
Without, they gilded are so that it dazzles;
  But inwardly all leaden and so heavy
  That Frederick used to put them on of straw.
O everlastingly fatiguing mantle!
  Again we turned us, still to the left hand
  Along with them, intent on their sad plaint;
But owing to the weight, that weary folk
  Came on so tardily, that we were new
  In company at each motion of the haunch.
Whence I unto my Leader: "See thou find
  Some one who may by deed or name be known,
  And thus in going move thine eye about."
And one, who understood the Tuscan speech,
  Cried to us from behind: "Stay ye your feet,
  Ye, who so run athwart the dusky air!
Perhaps thou'lt have from me what thou demandest."
  Whereat the Leader turned him, and said: "Wait,
  And then according to his pace proceed."
I stopped, and two beheld I show great haste
  Of spirit, in their faces, to be with me;
  But the burden and the narrow way delayed them.
When they came up, long with an eye askance
  They scanned me without uttering a word.
  Then to each other turned, and said together:
"He by the action of his throat seems living;
  And if they dead are, by what privilege
  Go they uncovered by the heavy stole?"
Then said to me: "Tuscan, who to the college
  Of miserable hypocrites art come,
  Do not disdain to tell us who thou art."
And I to them: "Born was I, and grew up
  In the great town on the fair river of Arno,
  And with the body am I've always had.
But who are ye, in whom there trickles down
  Along your cheeks such grief as I behold?
  And what pain is upon you, that so sparkles?"
And one replied to me: "These orange cloaks
  Are made of lead so heavy, that the weights
  Cause in this way their balances to creak.
Frati Gaudenti were we, and Bolognese;
  I Catalano, and he Loderingo
  Named, and together taken by thy city,
As the wont is to take one man alone,
  For maintenance of its peace; and we were such
  That still it is apparent round Gardingo."
"O Friars," began I, "your iniquitous. . ."
  But said no more; for to mine eyes there rushed
  One crucified with three stakes on the ground.
When me he saw, he writhed himself all over,
  Blowing into his beard with suspirations;
  And the Friar Catalan, who noticed this,
Said to me: "This transfixed one, whom thou seest,
  Counselled the Pharisees that it was meet
  To put one man to torture for the people.
Crosswise and naked is he on the path,
  As thou perceivest; and he needs must feel,
  Whoever passes, first how much he weighs;
And in like mode his father-in-law is punished
  Within this moat, and the others of the council,
  Which for the Jews was a malignant seed."
And thereupon I saw Virgilius marvel
  O'er him who was extended on the cross
  So vilely in eternal banishment.
Then he directed to the Friar this voice:
  "Be not displeased, if granted thee, to tell us
  If to the right hand any pass slope down
By which we two may issue forth from here,
  Without constraining some of the black angels
  To come and extricate us from this deep."
Then he made answer: "Nearer than thou hopest
  There is a rock, that forth from the great circle
  Proceeds, and crosses all the cruel valleys,
Save that at this 'tis broken, and does not bridge it;
  You will be able to mount up the ruin,
  That sidelong slopes and at the bottom rises."
The Leader stood awhile with head bowed down;
  Then said: "The business badly he recounted
  Who grapples with his hook the sinners yonder."
And the Friar: "Many of the Devil's vices
  Once heard I at Bologna, and among them,
  That he's a liar and the father of lies."
Thereat my Leader with great strides went on,
  Somewhat disturbed with anger in his looks;
  Whence from the heavy-laden I departed
After the prints of his beloved feet.
Inferno: Canto XXIV
In that part of the youthful year wherein
  The Sun his locks beneath Aquarius tempers,
  And now the nights draw near to half the day,
What time the hoar-frost copies on the ground
  The outward semblance of her sister white,
  But little lasts the temper of her pen,
The husbandman, whose forage faileth him,
  Rises, and looks, and seeth the champaign
  All gleaming white, whereat he beats his flank,
Returns in doors, and up and down laments,
  Like a poor wretch, who knows not what to do;
  Then he returns and hope revives again,
Seeing the world has changed its countenance
  In little time, and takes his shepherd's crook,
  And forth the little lambs to pasture drives.
Thus did the Master fill me with alarm,
  When I beheld his forehead so disturbed,
  And to the ailment came as soon the plaster.
For as we came unto the ruined bridge,
  The Leader turned to me with that sweet look
  Which at the mountain's foot I first beheld.
His arms he opened, after some advisement
  Within himself elected, looking first
  Well at the ruin, and laid hold of me.
And even as he who acts and meditates,
  For aye it seems that he provides beforehand,
  So upward lifting me towards the summit
Of a huge rock, he scanned another crag,
  Saying: "To that one grapple afterwards,
  But try first if 'tis such that it will hold thee."
This was no way for one clothed with a cloak;
  For hardly we, he light, and I pushed upward,
  Were able to ascend from jag to jag.
And had it not been, that upon that precinct
  Shorter was the ascent than on the other,
  He I know not, but I had been dead beat.
But because Malebolge tow'rds the mouth
  Of the profoundest well is all inclining,
  The structure of each valley doth import
That one bank rises and the other sinks.
  Still we arrived at length upon the point
  Wherefrom the last stone breaks itself asunder.
The breath was from my lungs so milked away,
  When I was up, that I could go no farther,
  Nay, I sat down upon my first arrival.
"Now it behoves thee thus to put off sloth,"
  My Master said; "for sitting upon down,
  Or under quilt, one cometh not to fame,
Withouten which whoso his life consumes
  Such vestige leaveth of himself on earth,
  As smoke in air or in the water foam.
And therefore raise thee up, o'ercome the anguish
  With spirit that o'ercometh every battle,
  If with its heavy body it sink not.
A longer stairway it behoves thee mount;
  'Tis not enough from these to have departed;
  Let it avail thee, if thou understand me."
Then I uprose, showing myself provided
  Better with breath than I did feel myself,
  And said: "Go on, for I am strong and bold."
Upward we took our way along the crag,
  Which jagged was, and narrow, and difficult,
  And more precipitous far than that before.
Speaking I went, not to appear exhausted;
  Whereat a voice from the next moat came forth,
  Not well adapted to articulate words.
I know not what it said, though o'er the back
  I now was of the arch that passes there;
  But he seemed moved to anger who was speaking.
I was bent downward, but my living eyes
  Could not attain the bottom, for the dark;
  Wherefore I: "Master, see that thou arrive
At the next round, and let us descend the wall;
  For as from hence I hear and understand not,
  So I look down and nothing I distinguish."
"Other response," he said, "I make thee not,
  Except the doing; for the modest asking
  Ought to be followed by the deed in silence."
We from the bridge descended at its head,
  Where it connects itself with the eighth bank,
  And then was manifest to me the Bolgia;
And I beheld therein a terrible throng
  Of serpents, and of such a monstrous kind,
  That the remembrance still congeals my blood
Let Libya boast no longer with her sand;
  For if Chelydri, Jaculi, and Phareae
  She breeds, with Cenchri and with Amphisbaena,
Neither so many plagues nor so malignant
  E'er showed she with all Ethiopia,
  Nor with whatever on the Red Sea is!
Among this cruel and most dismal throng
  People were running naked and affrighted.
  Without the hope of hole or heliotrope.
They had their hands with serpents bound behind them;
  These riveted upon their reins the tail
  And head, and were in front of them entwined.
And lo! at one who was upon our side
  There darted forth a serpent, which transfixed him
  There where the neck is knotted to the shoulders.
Nor 'O' so quickly e'er, nor 'I' was written,
  As he took fire, and burned; and ashes wholly
  Behoved it that in falling he became.
And when he on the ground was thus destroyed,
  The ashes drew together, and of themselves
  Into himself they instantly returned.
Even thus by the great sages 'tis confessed
  The phoenix dies, and then is born again,
  When it approaches its five-hundredth year;
On herb or grain it feeds not in its life,
  But only on tears of incense and amomum,
  And nard and myrrh are its last winding-sheet.
And as he is who falls, and knows not how,
  By force of demons who to earth down drag him,
  Or other oppilation that binds man,
When he arises and around him looks,
  Wholly bewildered by the mighty anguish
  Which he has suffered, and in looking sighs;
Such was that sinner after he had risen.
  Justice of God! O how severe it is,
  That blows like these in vengeance poureth down!
The Guide thereafter asked him who he was;
  Whence he replied: "I rained from Tuscany
  A short time since into this cruel gorge.
A bestial life, and not a human, pleased me,
  Even as the mule I was; I'm Vanni Fucci,
  Beast, and Pistoia was my worthy den."
And I unto the Guide: "Tell him to stir not,
  And ask what crime has thrust him here below,
  For once a man of blood and wrath I saw him."
And the sinner, who had heard, dissembled not,
  But unto me directed mind and face,
  And with a melancholy shame was painted.
Then said: "It pains me more that thou hast caught me
  Amid this misery where thou seest me,
  Than when I from the other life was taken.
What thou demandest I cannot deny;
  So low am I put down because I robbed
  The sacristy of the fair ornaments,
And falsely once 'twas laid upon another;
  But that thou mayst not such a sight enjoy,
  If thou shalt e'er be out of the dark places,
Thine ears to my announcement ope and hear:
  Pistoia first of Neri groweth meagre;
  Then Florence doth renew her men and manners;
Mars draws a vapour up from Val di Magra,
  Which is with turbid clouds enveloped round,
  And with impetuous and bitter tempest
Over Campo Picen shall be the battle;
  When it shall suddenly rend the mist asunder,
  So that each Bianco shall thereby be smitten.
And this I've said that it may give thee pain."
Inferno: Canto XXV
At the conclusion of his words, the thief
  Lifted his hands aloft with both the figs,
  Crying: "Take that, God, for at thee I aim them."
From that time forth the serpents were my friends;
  For one entwined itself about his neck
  As if it said: "I will not thou speak more;"
And round his arms another, and rebound him,
  Clinching itself together so in front,
  That with them he could not a motion make.
Pistoia, ah, Pistoia! why resolve not
  To burn thyself to ashes and so perish,
  Since in ill-doing thou thy seed excellest?
Through all the sombre circles of this Hell,
  Spirit I saw not against God so proud,
  Not he who fell at Thebes down from the walls!
He fled away, and spake no further word;
  And I beheld a Centaur full of rage
  Come crying out: "Where is, where is the scoffer?"
I do not think Maremma has so many
  Serpents as he had all along his back,
  As far as where our countenance begins.
Upon the shoulders, just behind the nape,
  With wings wide open was a dragon lying,
  And he sets fire to all that he encounters.
My Master said: "That one is Cacus, who
  Beneath the rock upon Mount Aventine
  Created oftentimes a lake of blood.
He goes not on the same road with his brothers,
  By reason of the fraudulent theft he made
  Of the great herd, which he had near to him;
Whereat his tortuous actions ceased beneath
  The mace of Hercules, who peradventure
  Gave him a hundred, and he felt not ten."
While he was speaking thus, he had passed by,
  And spirits three had underneath us come,
  Of which nor I aware was, nor my Leader,
Until what time they shouted: "Who are you?"
  On which account our story made a halt,
  And then we were intent on them alone.
I did not know them; but it came to pass,
  As it is wont to happen by some chance,
  That one to name the other was compelled,
Exclaiming: "Where can Cianfa have remained?"
  Whence I, so that the Leader might attend,
  Upward from chin to nose my finger laid.
If thou art, Reader, slow now to believe
  What I shall say, it will no marvel be,
  For I who saw it hardly can admit it.
As I was holding raised on them my brows,
  Behold! a serpent with six feet darts forth
  In front of one, and fastens wholly on him.
With middle feet it bound him round the paunch,
  And with the forward ones his arms it seized;
  Then thrust its teeth through one cheek and the other;
The hindermost it stretched upon his thighs,
  And put its tail through in between the two,
  And up behind along the reins outspread it.
Ivy was never fastened by its barbs
  Unto a tree so, as this horrible reptile
  Upon the other's limbs entwined its own.
Then they stuck close, as if of heated wax
  They had been made, and intermixed their colour;
  Nor one nor other seemed now what he was;
E'en as proceedeth on before the flame
  Upward along the paper a brown colour,
  Which is not black as yet, and the white dies.
The other two looked on, and each of them
  Cried out: "O me, Agnello, how thou changest!
  Behold, thou now art neither two nor one."
Already the two heads had one become,
  When there appeared to us two figures mingled
  Into one face, wherein the two were lost.
Of the four lists were fashioned the two arms,
  The thighs and legs, the belly and the chest
  Members became that never yet were seen.
Every original aspect there was cancelled;
  Two and yet none did the perverted image
  Appear, and such departed with slow pace.
Even as a lizard, under the great scourge
  Of days canicular, exchanging hedge,
  Lightning appeareth if the road it cross;
Thus did appear, coming towards the bellies
  Of the two others, a small fiery serpent,
  Livid and black as is a peppercorn.
And in that part whereat is first received
  Our aliment, it one of them transfixed;
  Then downward fell in front of him extended.
The one transfixed looked at it, but said naught;
  Nay, rather with feet motionless he yawned,
  Just as if sleep or fever had assailed him.
He at the serpent gazed, and it at him;
  One through the wound, the other through the mouth
  Smoked violently, and the smoke commingled.
Henceforth be silent Lucan, where he mentions
  Wretched Sabellus and Nassidius,
  And wait to hear what now shall be shot forth.
Be silent Ovid, of Cadmus and Arethusa;
  For if him to a snake, her to fountain,
  Converts he fabling, that I grudge him not;
Because two natures never front to front
  Has he transmuted, so that both the forms
  To interchange their matter ready were.
Together they responded in such wise,
  That to a fork the serpent cleft his tail,
  And eke the wounded drew his feet together.
The legs together with the thighs themselves
  Adhered so, that in little time the juncture
  No sign whatever made that was apparent.
He with the cloven tail assumed the figure
  The other one was losing, and his skin
  Became elastic, and the other's hard.
I saw the arms draw inward at the armpits,
  And both feet of the reptile, that were short,
  Lengthen as much as those contracted were.
Thereafter the hind feet, together twisted,
  Became the member that a man conceals,
  And of his own the wretch had two created.
While both of them the exhalation veils
  With a new colour, and engenders hair
  On one of them and depilates the other,
The one uprose and down the other fell,
  Though turning not away their impious lamps,
  Underneath which each one his muzzle changed.
He who was standing drew it tow'rds the temples,
  And from excess of matter, which came thither,
  Issued the ears from out the hollow cheeks;
What did not backward run and was retained
  Of that excess made to the face a nose,
  And the lips thickened far as was befitting.
He who lay prostrate thrusts his muzzle forward,
  And backward draws the ears into his head,
  In the same manner as the snail its horns;
And so the tongue, which was entire and apt
  For speech before, is cleft, and the bi-forked
  In the other closes up, and the smoke ceases.
The soul, which to a reptile had been changed,
  Along the valley hissing takes to flight,
  And after him the other speaking sputters.
Then did he turn upon him his new shoulders,
  And said to the other: "I'll have Buoso run,
  Crawling as I have done, along this road."
In this way I beheld the seventh ballast
  Shift and reshift, and here be my excuse
  The novelty, if aught my pen transgress.
And notwithstanding that mine eyes might be
  Somewhat bewildered, and my mind dismayed,
  They could not flee away so secretly
But that I plainly saw Puccio Sciancato;
  And he it was who sole of three companions,
  Which came in the beginning, was not changed;
The other was he whom thou, Gaville, weepest.
Inferno: Canto XXVI
Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great,
  That over sea and land thou beatest thy wings,
  And throughout Hell thy name is spread abroad!
Among the thieves five citizens of thine
  Like these I found, whence shame comes unto me,
  And thou thereby to no great honour risest.
But if when morn is near our dreams are true,
  Feel shalt thou in a little time from now
  What Prato, if none other, craves for thee.
And if it now were, it were not too soon;
  Would that it were, seeing it needs must be,
  For 'twill aggrieve me more the more I age.
We went our way, and up along the stairs
  The bourns had made us to descend before,
  Remounted my Conductor and drew me.
And following the solitary path
  Among the rocks and ridges of the crag,
  The foot without the hand sped not at all.
Then sorrowed I, and sorrow now again,
  When I direct my mind to what I saw,
  And more my genius curb than I am wont,
That it may run not unless virtue guide it;
  So that if some good star, or better thing,
  Have given me good, I may myself not grudge it.
As many as the hind (who on the hill
  Rests at the time when he who lights the world
  His countenance keeps least concealed from us,
While as the fly gives place unto the gnat)
  Seeth the glow-worms down along the valley,
  Perchance there where he ploughs and makes his vintage;
With flames as manifold resplendent all
  Was the eighth Bolgia, as I grew aware
  As soon as I was where the depth appeared.
And such as he who with the bears avenged him
  Beheld Elijah's chariot at departing,
  What time the steeds to heaven erect uprose,
For with his eye he could not follow it
  So as to see aught else than flame alone,
  Even as a little cloud ascending upward,
Thus each along the gorge of the intrenchment
  Was moving; for not one reveals the theft,
  And every flame a sinner steals away.
I stood upon the bridge uprisen to see,
  So that, if I had seized not on a rock,
  Down had I fallen without being pushed.
And the Leader, who beheld me so attent,
  Exclaimed: "Within the fires the spirits are;
  Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns."
"My Master," I replied, "by hearing thee
  I am more sure; but I surmised already
  It might be so, and already wished to ask thee
Who is within that fire, which comes so cleft
  At top, it seems uprising from the pyre
  Where was Eteocles with his brother placed."
He answered me: "Within there are tormented
  Ulysses and Diomed, and thus together
  They unto vengeance run as unto wrath.
And there within their flame do they lament
  The ambush of the horse, which made the door
  Whence issued forth the Romans' gentle seed;
Therein is wept the craft, for which being dead
  Deidamia still deplores Achilles,
  And pain for the Palladium there is borne."
"If they within those sparks possess the power
  To speak," I said, "thee, Master, much I pray,
  And re-pray, that the prayer be worth a thousand,
That thou make no denial of awaiting
  Until the horned flame shall hither come;
  Thou seest that with desire I lean towards it."
And he to me: "Worthy is thy entreaty
  Of much applause, and therefore I accept it;
  But take heed that thy tongue restrain itself.
Leave me to speak, because I have conceived
  That which thou wishest; for they might disdain
  Perchance, since they were Greeks, discourse of thine."
When now the flame had come unto that point,
  Where to my Leader it seemed time and place,
  After this fashion did I hear him speak:
"O ye, who are twofold within one fire,
  If I deserved of you, while I was living,
  If I deserved of you or much or little
When in the world I wrote the lofty verses,
  Do not move on, but one of you declare
  Whither, being lost, he went away to die."
Then of the antique flame the greater horn,
  Murmuring, began to wave itself about
  Even as a flame doth which the wind fatigues.
Thereafterward, the summit to and fro
  Moving as if it were the tongue that spake,
  It uttered forth a voice, and said: "When I
From Circe had departed, who concealed me
  More than a year there near unto Gaeta,
  Or ever yet Aeneas named it so,
Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence
  For my old father, nor the due affection
  Which joyous should have made Penelope,
Could overcome within me the desire
  I had to be experienced of the world,
  And of the vice and virtue of mankind;
But I put forth on the high open sea
  With one sole ship, and that small company
  By which I never had deserted been.
Both of the shores I saw as far as Spain,
  Far as Morocco, and the isle of Sardes,
  And the others which that sea bathes round about.
I and my company were old and slow
  When at that narrow passage we arrived
  Where Hercules his landmarks set as signals,
That man no farther onward should adventure.
  On the right hand behind me left I Seville,
  And on the other already had left Ceuta.
'O brothers, who amid a hundred thousand
  Perils,' I said, 'have come unto the West,
  To this so inconsiderable vigil
Which is remaining of your senses still
  Be ye unwilling to deny the knowledge,
  Following the sun, of the unpeopled world.
Consider ye the seed from which ye sprang;
  Ye were not made to live like unto brutes,
  But for pursuit of virtue and of knowledge.'
So eager did I render my companions,
  With this brief exhortation, for the voyage,
  That then I hardly could have held them back.
And having turned our stern unto the morning,
  We of the oars made wings for our mad flight,
  Evermore gaining on the larboard side.
Already all the stars of the other pole
  The night beheld, and ours so very low
  It did not rise above the ocean floor.
Five times rekindled and as many quenched
  Had been the splendour underneath the moon,
  Since we had entered into the deep pass,
When there appeared to us a mountain, dim
  From distance, and it seemed to me so high
  As I had never any one beheld.
Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping;
  For out of the new land a whirlwind rose,
  And smote upon the fore part of the ship.
Three times it made her whirl with all the waters,
  At the fourth time it made the stern uplift,
  And the prow downward go, as pleased Another,
Until the sea above us closed again."
Inferno: Canto XXVII
Already was the flame erect and quiet,
  To speak no more, and now departed from us
  With the permission of the gentle Poet;
When yet another, which behind it came,
  Caused us to turn our eyes upon its top
  By a confused sound that issued from it.
As the Sicilian bull (that bellowed first
  With the lament of him, and that was right,
  Who with his file had modulated it)
Bellowed so with the voice of the afflicted,
  That, notwithstanding it was made of brass,
  Still it appeared with agony transfixed;
Thus, by not having any way or issue
  At first from out the fire, to its own language
  Converted were the melancholy words.
But afterwards, when they had gathered way
  Up through the point, giving it that vibration
  The tongue had given them in their passage out,
We heard it said: "O thou, at whom I aim
  My voice, and who but now wast speaking Lombard,
  Saying, 'Now go thy way, no more I urge thee,'
Because I come perchance a little late,
  To stay and speak with me let it not irk thee;
  Thou seest it irks not me, and I am burning.
If thou but lately into this blind world
  Hast fallen down from that sweet Latian land,
  Wherefrom I bring the whole of my transgression,
Say, if the Romagnuols have peace or war,
  For I was from the mountains there between
  Urbino and the yoke whence Tiber bursts."
I still was downward bent and listening,
  When my Conductor touched me on the side,
  Saying: "Speak thou: this one a Latian is."
And I, who had beforehand my reply
  In readiness, forthwith began to speak:
  "O soul, that down below there art concealed,
Romagna thine is not and never has been
  Without war in the bosom of its tyrants;
  But open war I none have left there now.
Ravenna stands as it long years has stood;
  The Eagle of Polenta there is brooding,
  So that she covers Cervia with her vans.
The city which once made the long resistance,
  And of the French a sanguinary heap,
  Beneath the Green Paws finds itself again;
Verrucchio's ancient Mastiff and the new,
  Who made such bad disposal of Montagna,
  Where they are wont make wimbles of their teeth.
The cities of Lamone and Santerno
  Governs the Lioncel of the white lair,
  Who changes sides 'twixt summer-time and winter;
And that of which the Savio bathes the flank,
  Even as it lies between the plain and mountain,
  Lives between tyranny and a free state.
Now I entreat thee tell us who thou art;
  Be not more stubborn than the rest have been,
  So may thy name hold front there in the world."
After the fire a little more had roared
  In its own fashion, the sharp point it moved
  This way and that, and then gave forth such breath:
"If I believed that my reply were made
  To one who to the world would e'er return,
  This flame without more flickering would stand still;
But inasmuch as never from this depth
  Did any one return, if I hear true,
  Without the fear of infamy I answer,
I was a man of arms, then Cordelier,
  Believing thus begirt to make amends;
  And truly my belief had been fulfilled
But for the High Priest, whom may ill betide,
  Who put me back into my former sins;
  And how and wherefore I will have thee hear.
While I was still the form of bone and pulp
  My mother gave to me, the deeds I did
  Were not those of a lion, but a fox.
The machinations and the covert ways
  I knew them all, and practised so their craft,
  That to the ends of earth the sound went forth.
When now unto that portion of mine age
  I saw myself arrived, when each one ought
  To lower the sails, and coil away the ropes,
That which before had pleased me then displeased me;
  And penitent and confessing I surrendered,
  Ah woe is me! and it would have bestead me;
The Leader of the modern Pharisees
  Having a war near unto Lateran,
  And not with Saracens nor with the Jews,
For each one of his enemies was Christian,
  And none of them had been to conquer Acre,
  Nor merchandising in the Sultan's land,
Nor the high office, nor the sacred orders,
  In him regarded, nor in me that cord
  Which used to make those girt with it more meagre;
But even as Constantine sought out Sylvester
  To cure his leprosy, within Soracte,
  So this one sought me out as an adept
To cure him of the fever of his pride.
  Counsel he asked of me, and I was silent,
  Because his words appeared inebriate.
And then he said: 'Be not thy heart afraid;
  Henceforth I thee absolve; and thou instruct me
  How to raze Palestrina to the ground.
Heaven have I power to lock and to unlock,
  As thou dost know; therefore the keys are two,
  The which my predecessor held not dear.'
Then urged me on his weighty arguments
  There, where my silence was the worst advice;
  And said I: 'Father, since thou washest me
Of that sin into which I now must fall,
  The promise long with the fulfilment short
  Will make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.'
Francis came afterward, when I was dead,
  For me; but one of the black Cherubim
  Said to him: 'Take him not; do me no wrong;
He must come down among my servitors,
  Because he gave the fraudulent advice
  From which time forth I have been at his hair;
For who repents not cannot be absolved,
  Nor can one both repent and will at once,
  Because of the contradiction which consents not.'
O miserable me! how I did shudder
  When he seized on me, saying: 'Peradventure
  Thou didst not think that I was a logician!'
He bore me unto Minos, who entwined
  Eight times his tail about his stubborn back,
  And after he had bitten it in great rage,
Said: 'Of the thievish fire a culprit this;'
  Wherefore, here where thou seest, am I lost,
  And vested thus in going I bemoan me."
When it had thus completed its recital,
  The flame departed uttering lamentations,
  Writhing and flapping its sharp-pointed horn.
Onward we passed, both I and my Conductor,
  Up o'er the crag above another arch,
  Which the moat covers, where is paid the fee
By those who, sowing discord, win their burden.
Inferno: Canto XXVIII
Who ever could, e'en with untrammelled words,
  Tell of the blood and of the wounds in full
  Which now I saw, by many times narrating?
Each tongue would for a certainty fall short
  By reason of our speech and memory,
  That have small room to comprehend so much.
If were again assembled all the people
  Which formerly upon the fateful land
  Of Puglia were lamenting for their blood
Shed by the Romans and the lingering war
  That of the rings made such illustrious spoils,
  As Livy has recorded, who errs not,
With those who felt the agony of blows
  By making counterstand to Robert Guiscard,
  And all the rest, whose bones are gathered still
At Ceperano, where a renegade
  Was each Apulian, and at Tagliacozzo,
  Where without arms the old Alardo conquered,
And one his limb transpierced, and one lopped off,
  Should show, it would be nothing to compare
  With the disgusting mode of the ninth Bolgia.
A cask by losing centre-piece or cant
  Was never shattered so, as I saw one
  Rent from the chin to where one breaketh wind.
Between his legs were hanging down his entrails;
  His heart was visible, and the dismal sack
  That maketh excrement of what is eaten.
While I was all absorbed in seeing him,
  He looked at me, and opened with his hands
  His bosom, saying: "See now how I rend me;
How mutilated, see, is Mahomet;
  In front of me doth Ali weeping go,
  Cleft in the face from forelock unto chin;
And all the others whom thou here beholdest,
  Disseminators of scandal and of schism
  While living were, and therefore are cleft thus.
A devil is behind here, who doth cleave us
  Thus cruelly, unto the falchion's edge
  Putting again each one of all this ream,
When we have gone around the doleful road;
  By reason that our wounds are closed again
  Ere any one in front of him repass.
But who art thou, that musest on the crag,
  Perchance to postpone going to the pain
  That is adjudged upon thine accusations?"
"Nor death hath reached him yet, nor guilt doth bring him,"
  My Master made reply, "to be tormented;
  But to procure him full experience,
Me, who am dead, behoves it to conduct him
  Down here through Hell, from circle unto circle;
  And this is true as that I speak to thee."
More than a hundred were there when they heard him,
  Who in the moat stood still to look at me,
  Through wonderment oblivious of their torture.
"Now say to Fra Dolcino, then, to arm him,
  Thou, who perhaps wilt shortly see the sun,
  If soon he wish not here to follow me,
So with provisions, that no stress of snow
  May give the victory to the Novarese,
  Which otherwise to gain would not be easy."
After one foot to go away he lifted,
  This word did Mahomet say unto me,
  Then to depart upon the ground he stretched it.
Another one, who had his throat pierced through,
  And nose cut off close underneath the brows,
  And had no longer but a single ear,
Staying to look in wonder with the others,
  Before the others did his gullet open,
  Which outwardly was red in every part,
And said: "O thou, whom guilt doth not condemn,
  And whom I once saw up in Latian land,
  Unless too great similitude deceive me,
Call to remembrance Pier da Medicina,
  If e'er thou see again the lovely plain
  That from Vercelli slopes to Marcabo,
And make it known to the best two of Fano,
  To Messer Guido and Angiolello likewise,
  That if foreseeing here be not in vain,
Cast over from their vessel shall they be,
  And drowned near unto the Cattolica,
  By the betrayal of a tyrant fell.
Between the isles of Cyprus and Majorca
  Neptune ne'er yet beheld so great a crime,
  Neither of pirates nor Argolic people.
That traitor, who sees only with one eye,
  And holds the land, which some one here with me
  Would fain be fasting from the vision of,
Will make them come unto a parley with him;
  Then will do so, that to Focara's wind
  They will not stand in need of vow or prayer."
And I to him: "Show to me and declare,
  If thou wouldst have me bear up news of thee,
  Who is this person of the bitter vision."
Then did he lay his hand upon the jaw
  Of one of his companions, and his mouth
  Oped, crying: "This is he, and he speaks not.
This one, being banished, every doubt submerged
  In Caesar by affirming the forearmed
  Always with detriment allowed delay."
O how bewildered unto me appeared,
  With tongue asunder in his windpipe slit,
  Curio, who in speaking was so bold!
And one, who both his hands dissevered had,
  The stumps uplifting through the murky air,
  So that the blood made horrible his face,
Cried out: "Thou shalt remember Mosca also,
  Who said, alas! 'A thing done has an end!'
  Which was an ill seed for the Tuscan people."
"And death unto thy race," thereto I added;
  Whence he, accumulating woe on woe,
  Departed, like a person sad and crazed.
But I remained to look upon the crowd;
  And saw a thing which I should be afraid,
  Without some further proof, even to recount,
If it were not that conscience reassures me,
  That good companion which emboldens man
  Beneath the hauberk of its feeling pure.
I truly saw, and still I seem to see it,
  A trunk without a head walk in like manner
  As walked the others of the mournful herd.
And by the hair it held the head dissevered,
  Hung from the hand in fashion of a lantern,
  And that upon us gazed and said: "O me!"
It of itself made to itself a lamp,
  And they were two in one, and one in two;
  How that can be, He knows who so ordains it.
When it was come close to the bridge's foot,
  It lifted high its arm with all the head,
  To bring more closely unto us its words,
Which were: "Behold now the sore penalty,
  Thou, who dost breathing go the dead beholding;
  Behold if any be as great as this.
And so that thou may carry news of me,
  Know that Bertram de Born am I, the same
  Who gave to the Young King the evil comfort.
I made the father and the son rebellious;
  Achitophel not more with Absalom
  And David did with his accursed goadings.
Because I parted persons so united,
  Parted do I now bear my brain, alas!
  From its beginning, which is in this trunk.
Thus is observed in me the counterpoise."
Inferno: Canto XXIX
The many people and the divers wounds
  These eyes of mine had so inebriated,
  That they were wishful to stand still and weep;
But said Virgilius: "What dost thou still gaze at?
  Why is thy sight still riveted down there
  Among the mournful, mutilated shades?
Thou hast not done so at the other Bolge;
  Consider, if to count them thou believest,
  That two-and-twenty miles the valley winds,
And now the moon is underneath our feet;
  Henceforth the time allotted us is brief,
  And more is to be seen than what thou seest."
"If thou hadst," I made answer thereupon,
  "Attended to the cause for which I looked,
  Perhaps a longer stay thou wouldst have pardoned."
Meanwhile my Guide departed, and behind him
  I went, already making my reply,
  And superadding: "In that cavern where
I held mine eyes with such attention fixed,
  I think a spirit of my blood laments
  The sin which down below there costs so much."
Then said the Master: "Be no longer broken
  Thy thought from this time forward upon him;
  Attend elsewhere, and there let him remain;
For him I saw below the little bridge,
  Pointing at thee, and threatening with his finger
  Fiercely, and heard him called Geri del Bello.
So wholly at that time wast thou impeded
  By him who formerly held Altaforte,
  Thou didst not look that way; so he departed."
"O my Conductor, his own violent death,
  Which is not yet avenged for him," I said,
  "By any who is sharer in the shame,
Made him disdainful; whence he went away,
  As I imagine, without speaking to me,
  And thereby made me pity him the more."
Thus did we speak as far as the first place
  Upon the crag, which the next valley shows
  Down to the bottom, if there were more light.
When we were now right over the last cloister
  Of Malebolge, so that its lay-brothers
  Could manifest themselves unto our sight,
Divers lamentings pierced me through and through,
  Which with compassion had their arrows barbed,
  Whereat mine ears I covered with my hands.
What pain would be, if from the hospitals
  Of Valdichiana, 'twixt July and September,
  And of Maremma and Sardinia
All the diseases in one moat were gathered,
  Such was it here, and such a stench came from it
  As from putrescent limbs is wont to issue.
We had descended on the furthest bank
  From the long crag, upon the left hand still,
  And then more vivid was my power of sight
Down tow'rds the bottom, where the ministress
  Of the high Lord, Justice infallible,
  Punishes forgers, which she here records.
I do not think a sadder sight to see
  Was in Aegina the whole people sick,
  (When was the air so full of pestilence,
The animals, down to the little worm,
  All fell, and afterwards the ancient people,
  According as the poets have affirmed,
Were from the seed of ants restored again,)
  Than was it to behold through that dark valley
  The spirits languishing in divers heaps.
This on the belly, that upon the back
  One of the other lay, and others crawling
  Shifted themselves along the dismal road.
We step by step went onward without speech,
  Gazing upon and listening to the sick
  Who had not strength enough to lift their bodies.
I saw two sitting leaned against each other,
  As leans in heating platter against platter,
  From head to foot bespotted o'er with scabs;
And never saw I plied a currycomb
  By stable-boy for whom his master waits,
  Or him who keeps awake unwillingly,
As every one was plying fast the bite
  Of nails upon himself, for the great rage
  Of itching which no other succour had.
And the nails downward with them dragged the scab,
  In fashion as a knife the scales of bream,
  Or any other fish that has them largest.
"O thou, that with thy fingers dost dismail thee,"
  Began my Leader unto one of them,
  "And makest of them pincers now and then,
Tell me if any Latian is with those
  Who are herein; so may thy nails suffice thee
  To all eternity unto this work."
"Latians are we, whom thou so wasted seest,
  Both of us here," one weeping made reply;
  "But who art thou, that questionest about us?"
And said the Guide: "One am I who descends
  Down with this living man from cliff to cliff,
  And I intend to show Hell unto him."
Then broken was their mutual support,
  And trembling each one turned himself to me,
  With others who had heard him by rebound.
Wholly to me did the good Master gather,
  Saying: "Say unto them whate'er thou wishest."
  And I began, since he would have it so:
"So may your memory not steal away
  In the first world from out the minds of men,
  But so may it survive 'neath many suns,
Say to me who ye are, and of what people;
  Let not your foul and loathsome punishment
  Make you afraid to show yourselves to me."
"I of Arezzo was," one made reply,
  "And Albert of Siena had me burned;
  But what I died for does not bring me here.
'Tis true I said to him, speaking in jest,
  That I could rise by flight into the air,
  And he who had conceit, but little wit,
Would have me show to him the art; and only
  Because no Daedalus I made him, made me
  Be burned by one who held him as his son.
But unto the last Bolgia of the ten,
  For alchemy, which in the world I practised,
  Minos, who cannot err, has me condemned."
And to the Poet said I: "Now was ever
  So vain a people as the Sienese?
  Not for a certainty the French by far."
Whereat the other leper, who had heard me,
  Replied unto my speech: "Taking out Stricca,
  Who knew the art of moderate expenses,
And Niccolo, who the luxurious use
  Of cloves discovered earliest of all
  Within that garden where such seed takes root;
And taking out the band, among whom squandered
  Caccia d'Ascian his vineyards and vast woods,
  And where his wit the Abbagliato proffered!
But, that thou know who thus doth second thee
  Against the Sienese, make sharp thine eye
  Tow'rds me, so that my face well answer thee,
And thou shalt see I am Capocchio's shade,
  Who metals falsified by alchemy;
  Thou must remember, if I well descry thee,
How I a skilful ape of nature was."
Inferno: Canto XXX
'Twas at the time when Juno was enraged,
  For Semele, against the Theban blood,
  As she already more than once had shown,
So reft of reason Athamas became,
  That, seeing his own wife with children twain
  Walking encumbered upon either hand,
He cried: "Spread out the nets, that I may take
  The lioness and her whelps upon the passage;"
  And then extended his unpitying claws,
Seizing the first, who had the name Learchus,
  And whirled him round, and dashed him on a rock;
  And she, with the other burthen, drowned herself;--
And at the time when fortune downward hurled
  The Trojan's arrogance, that all things dared,
  So that the king was with his kingdom crushed,
Hecuba sad, disconsolate, and captive,
  When lifeless she beheld Polyxena,
  And of her Polydorus on the shore
Of ocean was the dolorous one aware,
  Out of her senses like a dog she barked,
  So much the anguish had her mind distorted;
But not of Thebes the furies nor the Trojan
  Were ever seen in any one so cruel
  In goading beasts, and much more human members,
As I beheld two shadows pale and naked,
  Who, biting, in the manner ran along
  That a boar does, when from the sty turned loose.
One to Capocchio came, and by the nape
  Seized with its teeth his neck, so that in dragging
  It made his belly grate the solid bottom.
And the Aretine, who trembling had remained,
  Said to me: "That mad sprite is Gianni Schicchi,
  And raving goes thus harrying other people."
"O," said I to him, "so may not the other
  Set teeth on thee, let it not weary thee
  To tell us who it is, ere it dart hence."
And he to me: "That is the ancient ghost
  Of the nefarious Myrrha, who became
  Beyond all rightful love her father's lover.
She came to sin with him after this manner,
  By counterfeiting of another's form;
  As he who goeth yonder undertook,
That he might gain the lady of the herd,
  To counterfeit in himself Buoso Donati,
  Making a will and giving it due form."
And after the two maniacs had passed
  On whom I held mine eye, I turned it back
  To look upon the other evil-born.
I saw one made in fashion of a lute,
  If he had only had the groin cut off
  Just at the point at which a man is forked.
The heavy dropsy, that so disproportions
  The limbs with humours, which it ill concocts,
  That the face corresponds not to the belly,
Compelled him so to hold his lips apart
  As does the hectic, who because of thirst
  One tow'rds the chin, the other upward turns.
"O ye, who without any torment are,
  And why I know not, in the world of woe,"
  He said to us, "behold, and be attentive
Unto the misery of Master Adam;
  I had while living much of what I wished,
  And now, alas! a drop of water crave.
The rivulets, that from the verdant hills
  Of Cassentin descend down into Arno,
  Making their channels to be cold and moist,
Ever before me stand, and not in vain;
  For far more doth their image dry me up
  Than the disease which strips my face of flesh.
The rigid justice that chastises me
  Draweth occasion from the place in which
  I sinned, to put the more my sighs in flight.
There is Romena, where I counterfeited
  The currency imprinted with the Baptist,
  For which I left my body burned above.
But if I here could see the tristful soul
  Of Guido, or Alessandro, or their brother,
  For Branda's fount I would not give the sight.
One is within already, if the raving
  Shades that are going round about speak truth;
  But what avails it me, whose limbs are tied?
If I were only still so light, that in
  A hundred years I could advance one inch,
  I had already started on the way,
Seeking him out among this squalid folk,
  Although the circuit be eleven miles,
  And be not less than half a mile across.
For them am I in such a family;
  They did induce me into coining florins,
  Which had three carats of impurity."
And I to him: "Who are the two poor wretches
  That smoke like unto a wet hand in winter,
  Lying there close upon thy right-hand confines?"
"I found them here," replied he, "when I rained
  Into this chasm, and since they have not turned,
  Nor do I think they will for evermore.
One the false woman is who accused Joseph,
  The other the false Sinon, Greek of Troy;
  From acute fever they send forth such reek."
And one of them, who felt himself annoyed
  At being, peradventure, named so darkly,
  Smote with the fist upon his hardened paunch.
It gave a sound, as if it were a drum;
  And Master Adam smote him in the face,
  With arm that did not seem to be less hard,
Saying to him: "Although be taken from me
  All motion, for my limbs that heavy are,
  I have an arm unfettered for such need."
Whereat he answer made: "When thou didst go
  Unto the fire, thou hadst it not so ready:
  But hadst it so and more when thou wast coining."
The dropsical: "Thou sayest true in that;
  But thou wast not so true a witness there,
  Where thou wast questioned of the truth at Troy."
"If I spake false, thou falsifiedst the coin,"
  Said Sinon; "and for one fault I am here,
  And thou for more than any other demon."
"Remember, perjurer, about the horse,"
  He made reply who had the swollen belly,
  "And rueful be it thee the whole world knows it."
"Rueful to thee the thirst be wherewith cracks
  Thy tongue," the Greek said, "and the putrid water
  That hedges so thy paunch before thine eyes."
Then the false-coiner: "So is gaping wide
  Thy mouth for speaking evil, as 'tis wont;
  Because if I have thirst, and humour stuff me
Thou hast the burning and the head that aches,
  And to lick up the mirror of Narcissus
  Thou wouldst not want words many to invite thee."
In listening to them was I wholly fixed,
  When said the Master to me: "Now just look,
  For little wants it that I quarrel with thee."
When him I heard in anger speak to me,
  I turned me round towards him with such shame
  That still it eddies through my memory.
And as he is who dreams of his own harm,
  Who dreaming wishes it may be a dream,
  So that he craves what is, as if it were not;
Such I became, not having power to speak,
  For to excuse myself I wished, and still
  Excused myself, and did not think I did it.
"Less shame doth wash away a greater fault,"
  The Master said, "than this of thine has been;
  Therefore thyself disburden of all sadness,
And make account that I am aye beside thee,
  If e'er it come to pass that fortune bring thee
  Where there are people in a like dispute;
For a base wish it is to wish to hear it."
Inferno: Canto XXXI
One and the selfsame tongue first wounded me,
  So that it tinged the one cheek and the other,
  And then held out to me the medicine;
Thus do I hear that once Achilles' spear,
  His and his father's, used to be the cause
  First of a sad and then a gracious boon.
We turned our backs upon the wretched valley,
  Upon the bank that girds it round about,
  Going across it without any speech.
There it was less than night, and less than day,
  So that my sight went little in advance;
  But I could hear the blare of a loud horn,
So loud it would have made each thunder faint,
  Which, counter to it following its way,
  Mine eyes directed wholly to one place.
After the dolorous discomfiture
  When Charlemagne the holy emprise lost,
  So terribly Orlando sounded not.
Short while my head turned thitherward I held
  When many lofty towers I seemed to see,
  Whereat I: "Master, say, what town is this?"
And he to me: "Because thou peerest forth
  Athwart the darkness at too great a distance,
  It happens that thou errest in thy fancy.
Well shalt thou see, if thou arrivest there,
  How much the sense deceives itself by distance;
  Therefore a little faster spur thee on."
Then tenderly he took me by the hand,
  And said: "Before we farther have advanced,
  That the reality may seem to thee
Less strange, know that these are not towers, but giants,
  And they are in the well, around the bank,
  From navel downward, one and all of them."
As, when the fog is vanishing away,
  Little by little doth the sight refigure
  Whate'er the mist that crowds the air conceals,
So, piercing through the dense and darksome air,
  More and more near approaching tow'rd the verge,
  My error fled, and fear came over me;
Because as on its circular parapets
  Montereggione crowns itself with towers,
  E'en thus the margin which surrounds the well
With one half of their bodies turreted
  The horrible giants, whom Jove menaces
  E'en now from out the heavens when he thunders.
And I of one already saw the face,
  Shoulders, and breast, and great part of the belly,
  And down along his sides both of the arms.
Certainly Nature, when she left the making
  Of animals like these, did well indeed,
  By taking such executors from Mars;
And if of elephants and whales she doth not
  Repent her, whosoever looketh subtly
  More just and more discreet will hold her for it;
For where the argument of intellect
  Is added unto evil will and power,
  No rampart can the people make against it.
His face appeared to me as long and large
  As is at Rome the pine-cone of Saint Peter's,
  And in proportion were the other bones;
So that the margin, which an apron was
  Down from the middle, showed so much of him
  Above it, that to reach up to his hair
Three Frieslanders in vain had vaunted them;
  For I beheld thirty great palms of him
  Down from the place where man his mantle buckles.
"Raphael mai amech izabi almi,"
  Began to clamour the ferocious mouth,
  To which were not befitting sweeter psalms.
And unto him my Guide: "Soul idiotic,
  Keep to thy horn, and vent thyself with that,
  When wrath or other passion touches thee.
Search round thy neck, and thou wilt find the belt
  Which keeps it fastened, O bewildered soul,
  And see it, where it bars thy mighty breast."
Then said to me: "He doth himself accuse;
  This one is Nimrod, by whose evil thought
  One language in the world is not still used.
Here let us leave him and not speak in vain;
  For even such to him is every language
  As his to others, which to none is known."
Therefore a longer journey did we make,
  Turned to the left, and a crossbow-shot oft
  We found another far more fierce and large.
In binding him, who might the master be
  I cannot say; but he had pinioned close
  Behind the right arm, and in front the other,
With chains, that held him so begirt about
  From the neck down, that on the part uncovered
  It wound itself as far as the fifth gyre.
"This proud one wished to make experiment
  Of his own power against the Supreme Jove,"
  My Leader said, "whence he has such a guerdon.
Ephialtes is his name; he showed great prowess.
  What time the giants terrified the gods;
  The arms he wielded never more he moves."
And I to him: "If possible, I should wish
  That of the measureless Briareus
  These eyes of mine might have experience."
Whence he replied: "Thou shalt behold Antaeus
  Close by here, who can speak and is unbound,
  Who at the bottom of all crime shall place us.
Much farther yon is he whom thou wouldst see,
  And he is bound, and fashioned like to this one,
  Save that he seems in aspect more ferocious."
There never was an earthquake of such might
  That it could shake a tower so violently,
  As Ephialtes suddenly shook himself.
Then was I more afraid of death than ever,
  For nothing more was needful than the fear,
  If I had not beheld the manacles.
Then we proceeded farther in advance,
  And to Antaeus came, who, full five ells
  Without the head, forth issued from the cavern.
"O thou, who in the valley fortunate,
  Which Scipio the heir of glory made,
  When Hannibal turned back with all his hosts,
Once brought'st a thousand lions for thy prey,
  And who, hadst thou been at the mighty war
  Among thy brothers, some it seems still think
The sons of Earth the victory would have gained:
  Place us below, nor be disdainful of it,
  There where the cold doth lock Cocytus up.
Make us not go to Tityus nor Typhoeus;
  This one can give of that which here is longed for;
  Therefore stoop down, and do not curl thy lip.
Still in the world can he restore thy fame;
  Because he lives, and still expects long life,
  If to itself Grace call him not untimely."
So said the Master; and in haste the other
  His hands extended and took up my Guide,--
  Hands whose great pressure Hercules once felt.
Virgilius, when he felt himself embraced,
  Said unto me: "Draw nigh, that I may take thee;"
  Then of himself and me one bundle made.
As seems the Carisenda, to behold
  Beneath the leaning side, when goes a cloud
  Above it so that opposite it hangs;
Such did Antaeus seem to me, who stood
  Watching to see him stoop, and then it was
  I could have wished to go some other way.
But lightly in the abyss, which swallows up
  Judas with Lucifer, he put us down;
  Nor thus bowed downward made he there delay,
But, as a mast does in a ship, uprose.
Inferno: Canto XXXII
If I had rhymes both rough and stridulous,
  As were appropriate to the dismal hole
  Down upon which thrust all the other rocks,
I would press out the juice of my conception
  More fully; but because I have them not,
  Not without fear I bring myself to speak;
For 'tis no enterprise to take in jest,
  To sketch the bottom of all the universe,
  Nor for a tongue that cries Mamma and Babbo.
But may those Ladies help this verse of mine,
  Who helped Amphion in enclosing Thebes,
  That from the fact the word be not diverse.
O rabble ill-begotten above all,
  Who're in the place to speak of which is hard,
  'Twere better ye had here been sheep or goats!
When we were down within the darksome well,
  Beneath the giant's feet, but lower far,
  And I was scanning still the lofty wall,
I heard it said to me: "Look how thou steppest!
  Take heed thou do not trample with thy feet
  The heads of the tired, miserable brothers!"
Whereat I turned me round, and saw before me
  And underfoot a lake, that from the frost
  The semblance had of glass, and not of water.
So thick a veil ne'er made upon its current
  In winter-time Danube in Austria,
  Nor there beneath the frigid sky the Don,
As there was here; so that if Tambernich
  Had fallen upon it, or Pietrapana,
  E'en at the edge 'twould not have given a creak.
And as to croak the frog doth place himself
  With muzzle out of water,--when is dreaming
  Of gleaning oftentimes the peasant-girl,--
Livid, as far down as where shame appears,
  Were the disconsolate shades within the ice,
  Setting their teeth unto the note of storks.
Each one his countenance held downward bent;
  From mouth the cold, from eyes the doleful heart
  Among them witness of itself procures.
When round about me somewhat I had looked,
  I downward turned me, and saw two so close,
  The hair upon their heads together mingled.
"Ye who so strain your breasts together, tell me,"
  I said, "who are you;" and they bent their necks,
  And when to me their faces they had lifted,
Their eyes, which first were only moist within,
  Gushed o'er the eyelids, and the frost congealed
  The tears between, and locked them up again.
Clamp never bound together wood with wood
  So strongly; whereat they, like two he-goats,
  Butted together, so much wrath o'ercame them.
And one, who had by reason of the cold
  Lost both his ears, still with his visage downward,
  Said: "Why dost thou so mirror thyself in us?
If thou desire to know who these two are,
  The valley whence Bisenzio descends
  Belonged to them and to their father Albert.
They from one body came, and all Caina
  Thou shalt search through, and shalt not find a shade
  More worthy to be fixed in gelatine;
Not he in whom were broken breast and shadow
  At one and the same blow by Arthur's hand;
  Focaccia not; not he who me encumbers
So with his head I see no farther forward,
  And bore the name of Sassol Mascheroni;
  Well knowest thou who he was, if thou art Tuscan.
And that thou put me not to further speech,
  Know that I Camicion de' Pazzi was,
  And wait Carlino to exonerate me."
Then I beheld a thousand faces, made
  Purple with cold; whence o'er me comes a shudder,
  And evermore will come, at frozen ponds.
And while we were advancing tow'rds the middle,
  Where everything of weight unites together,
  And I was shivering in the eternal shade,
Whether 'twere will, or destiny, or chance,
  I know not; but in walking 'mong the heads
  I struck my foot hard in the face of one.
Weeping he growled: "Why dost thou trample me?
  Unless thou comest to increase the vengeance
  of Montaperti, why dost thou molest me?"
And I: "My Master, now wait here for me,
  That I through him may issue from a doubt;
  Then thou mayst hurry me, as thou shalt wish."
The Leader stopped; and to that one I said
  Who was blaspheming vehemently still:
  "Who art thou, that thus reprehendest others?"
"Now who art thou, that goest through Antenora
  Smiting," replied he, "other people's cheeks,
  So that, if thou wert living, 'twere too much?"
"Living I am, and dear to thee it may be,"
  Was my response, "if thou demandest fame,
  That 'mid the other notes thy name I place."
And he to me: "For the reverse I long;
  Take thyself hence, and give me no more trouble;
  For ill thou knowest to flatter in this hollow."
Then by the scalp behind I seized upon him,
  And said: "It must needs be thou name thyself,
  Or not a hair remain upon thee here."
Whence he to me: "Though thou strip off my hair,
  I will not tell thee who I am, nor show thee,
  If on my head a thousand times thou fall."
I had his hair in hand already twisted,
  And more than one shock of it had pulled out,
  He barking, with his eyes held firmly down,
When cried another: "What doth ail thee, Bocca?
  Is't not enough to clatter with thy jaws,
  But thou must bark? what devil touches thee?"
"Now," said I, "I care not to have thee speak,
  Accursed traitor; for unto thy shame
  I will report of thee veracious news."
"Begone," replied he, "and tell what thou wilt,
  But be not silent, if thou issue hence,
  Of him who had just now his tongue so prompt;
He weepeth here the silver of the French;
  'I saw,' thus canst thou phrase it, 'him of Duera
  There where the sinners stand out in the cold.'
If thou shouldst questioned be who else was there,
  Thou hast beside thee him of Beccaria,
  Of whom the gorget Florence slit asunder;
Gianni del Soldanier, I think, may be
  Yonder with Ganellon, and Tebaldello
  Who oped Faenza when the people slep."
Already we had gone away from him,
  When I beheld two frozen in one hole,
  So that one head a hood was to the other;
And even as bread through hunger is devoured,
  The uppermost on the other set his teeth,
  There where the brain is to the nape united.
Not in another fashion Tydeus gnawed
  The temples of Menalippus in disdain,
  Than that one did the skull and the other things.
"O thou, who showest by such bestial sign
  Thy hatred against him whom thou art eating,
  Tell me the wherefore," said I, "with this compact,
That if thou rightfully of him complain,
  In knowing who ye are, and his transgression,
  I in the world above repay thee for it,
If that wherewith I speak be not dried up."
Inferno: Canto XXXIII
His mouth uplifted from his grim repast,
  That sinner, wiping it upon the hair
  Of the same head that he behind had wasted.
Then he began: "Thou wilt that I renew
  The desperate grief, which wrings my heart already
  To think of only, ere I speak of it;
But if my words be seed that may bear fruit
  Of infamy to the traitor whom I gnaw,
  Speaking and weeping shalt thou see together.
I know not who thou art, nor by what mode
  Thou hast come down here; but a Florentine
  Thou seemest to me truly, when I hear thee.
Thou hast to know I was Count Ugolino,
  And this one was Ruggieri the Archbishop;
  Now I will tell thee why I am such a neighbour.
That, by effect of his malicious thoughts,
  Trusting in him I was made prisoner,
  And after put to death, I need not say;
 But ne'ertheless what thou canst not have heard,
  That is to say, how cruel was my death,
  Hear shalt thou, and shalt know if he has wronged me.
A narrow perforation in the mew,
  Which bears because of me the title of Famine,
  And in which others still must be locked up,
Had shown me through its opening many moons
  Already, when I dreamed the evil dream
  Which of the future rent for me the veil.
This one appeared to me as lord and master,
  Hunting the wolf and whelps upon the mountain
  For which the Pisans cannot Lucca see.
With sleuth-hounds gaunt, and eager, and well trained,
  Gualandi with Sismondi and Lanfianchi
  He had sent out before him to the front.
After brief course seemed unto me forespent
  The father and the sons, and with sharp tushes
  It seemed to me I saw their flanks ripped open.
When I before the morrow was awake,
  Moaning amid their sleep I heard my sons
  Who with me were, and asking after bread.
Cruel indeed art thou, if yet thou grieve not,
  Thinking of what my heart foreboded me,
  And weep'st thou not, what art thou wont to weep at?
They were awake now, and the hour drew nigh
  At which our food used to be brought to us,
  And through his dream was each one apprehensive;
And I heard locking up the under door
  Of the horrible tower; whereat without a word
  I gazed into the faces of my sons.
I wept not, I within so turned to stone;
  They wept; and darling little Anselm mine
  Said: 'Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?'
Still not a tear I shed, nor answer made
  All of that day, nor yet the night thereafter,
  Until another sun rose on the world.
As now a little glimmer made its way
  Into the dolorous prison, and I saw
  Upon four faces my own very aspect,
Both of my hands in agony I bit;
  And, thinking that I did it from desire
  Of eating, on a sudden they uprose,
And said they: 'Father, much less pain 'twill give us
  If thou do eat of us; thyself didst clothe us
  With this poor flesh, and do thou strip it off.'
I calmed me then, not to make them more sad.
  That day we all were silent, and the next.
  Ah! obdurate earth, wherefore didst thou not open?
When we had come unto the fourth day, Gaddo
  Threw himself down outstretched before my feet,
  Saying, 'My father, why dost thou not help me?'
And there he died; and, as thou seest me,
  I saw the three fall, one by one, between
  The fifth day and the sixth; whence I betook me,
Already blind, to groping over each,
  And three days called them after they were dead;
  Then hunger did what sorrow could not do."
When he had said this, with his eyes distorted,
  The wretched skull resumed he with his teeth,
  Which, as a dog's, upon the bone were strong.
Ah! Pisa, thou opprobrium of the people
  Of the fair land there where the 'Si' doth sound,
  Since slow to punish thee thy neighbours are,
Let the Capraia and Gorgona move,
  And make a hedge across the mouth of Arno
  That every person in thee it may drown!
For if Count Ugolino had the fame
  Of having in thy castles thee betrayed,
  Thou shouldst not on such cross have put his sons.
Guiltless of any crime, thou modern Thebes!
  Their youth made Uguccione and Brigata,
  And the other two my song doth name above!
We passed still farther onward, where the ice
  Another people ruggedly enswathes,
  Not downward turned, but all of them reversed.
Weeping itself there does not let them weep,
  And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes
  Turns itself inward to increase the anguish;
Because the earliest tears a cluster form,
  And, in the manner of a crystal visor,
  Fill all the cup beneath the eyebrow full.
And notwithstanding that, as in a callus,
  Because of cold all sensibility
  Its station had abandoned in my face,
Still it appeared to me I felt some wind;
  Whence I: "My Master, who sets this in motion?
  Is not below here every vapour quenched?"
Whence he to me: "Full soon shalt thou be where
  Thine eye shall answer make to thee of this,
  Seeing the cause which raineth down the blast."
And one of the wretches of the frozen crust
  Cried out to us: "O souls so merciless
  That the last post is given unto you,
Lift from mine eyes the rigid veils, that I
  May vent the sorrow which impregns my heart
  A little, e'er the weeping recongeal."
Whence I to him: "If thou wouldst have me help thee
  Say who thou wast; and if I free thee not,
  May I go to the bottom of the ice."
Then he replied: "I am Friar Alberigo;
  He am I of the fruit of the bad garden,
  Who here a date am getting for my fig."
"O," said I to him, "now art thou, too, dead?"
  And he to me: "How may my body fare
  Up in the world, no knowledge I possess.
Such an advantage has this Ptolomaea,
  That oftentimes the soul descendeth here
  Sooner than Atropos in motion sets it.
And, that thou mayest more willingly remove
  From off my countenance these glassy tears,
  Know that as soon as any soul betrays
As I have done, his body by a demon
  Is taken from him, who thereafter rules it,
  Until his time has wholly been revolved.
Itself down rushes into such a cistern;
  And still perchance above appears the body
  Of yonder shade, that winters here behind me.
This thou shouldst know, if thou hast just come down;
  It is Ser Branca d' Oria, and many years
  Have passed away since he was thus locked up."
"I think," said I to him, "thou dost deceive me;
  For Branca d' Oria is not dead as yet,
  And eats, and drinks, and sleeps, and puts on clothes."
"In moat above," said he, "of Malebranche,
  There where is boiling the tenacious pitch,
  As yet had Michel Zanche not arrived,
When this one left a devil in his stead
  In his own body and one near of kin,
  Who made together with him the betrayal.
But hitherward stretch out thy hand forthwith,
  Open mine eyes;"--and open them I did not,
  And to be rude to him was courtesy.
Ah, Genoese! ye men at variance
  With every virtue, full of every vice
  Wherefore are ye not scattered from the world?
For with the vilest spirit of Romagna
  I found of you one such, who for his deeds
  In soul already in Cocytus bathes,
And still above in body seems alive!
Inferno: Canto XXXIV
"'Vexilla Regis prodeunt Inferni'
  Towards us; therefore look in front of thee,"
  My Master said, "if thou discernest him."
As, when there breathes a heavy fog, or when
  Our hemisphere is darkening into night,
  Appears far off a mill the wind is turning,
Methought that such a building then I saw;
  And, for the wind, I drew myself behind
  My Guide, because there was no other shelter.
Now was I, and with fear in verse I put it,
  There where the shades were wholly covered up,
  And glimmered through like unto straws in glass.
Some prone are lying, others stand erect,
  This with the head, and that one with the soles;
  Another, bow-like, face to feet inverts.
When in advance so far we had proceeded,
  That it my Master pleased to show to me
  The creature who once had the beauteous semblance,
He from before me moved and made me stop,
  Saying: "Behold Dis, and behold the place
  Where thou with fortitude must arm thyself."
How frozen I became and powerless then,
  Ask it not, Reader, for I write it not,
  Because all language would be insufficient.
I did not die, and I alive remained not;
  Think for thyself now, hast thou aught of wit,
  What I became, being of both deprived.
The Emperor of the kingdom dolorous
  From his mid-breast forth issued from the ice;
  And better with a giant I compare
Than do the giants with those arms of his;
  Consider now how great must be that whole,
  Which unto such a part conforms itself.
Were he as fair once, as he now is foul,
  And lifted up his brow against his Maker,
  Well may proceed from him all tribulation.
O, what a marvel it appeared to me,
  When I beheld three faces on his head!
  The one in front, and that vermilion was;
Two were the others, that were joined with this
  Above the middle part of either shoulder,
  And they were joined together at the crest;
And the right-hand one seemed 'twixt white and yellow;
  The left was such to look upon as those
  Who come from where the Nile falls valley-ward.
Underneath each came forth two mighty wings,
  Such as befitting were so great a bird;
  Sails of the sea I never saw so large.
 No feathers had they, but as of a bat
  Their fashion was; and he was waving them,
  So that three winds proceeded forth therefrom.
Thereby Cocytus wholly was congealed.
  With six eyes did he weep, and down three chins
  Trickled the tear-drops and the bloody drivel.
At every mouth he with his teeth was crunching
  A sinner, in the manner of a brake,
  So that he three of them tormented thus.
To him in front the biting was as naught
  Unto the clawing, for sometimes the spine
  Utterly stripped of all the skin remained.
"That soul up there which has the greatest pain,"
  The Master said, "is Judas Iscariot;
  With head inside, he plies his legs without.
Of the two others, who head downward are,
  The one who hangs from the black jowl is Brutus;
  See how he writhes himself, and speaks no word.
And the other, who so stalwart seems, is Cassius.
  But night is reascending, and 'tis time
  That we depart, for we have seen the whole."
As seemed him good, I clasped him round the neck,
  And he the vantage seized of time and place,
  And when the wings were opened wide apart,
He laid fast hold upon the shaggy sides;
  From fell to fell descended downward then
  Between the thick hair and the frozen crust.
When we were come to where the thigh revolves
  Exactly on the thickness of the haunch,
  The Guide, with labour and with hard-drawn breath,
Turned round his head where he had had his legs,
  And grappled to the hair, as one who mounts,
  So that to Hell I thought we were returning.
"Keep fast thy hold, for by such stairs as these,"
  The Master said, panting as one fatigued,
  "Must we perforce depart from so much evil."
Then through the opening of a rock he issued,
  And down upon the margin seated me;
  Then tow'rds me he outstretched his wary step.
I lifted up mine eyes and thought to see
  Lucifer in the same way I had left him;
  And I beheld him upward hold his legs.
And if I then became disquieted,
  Let stolid people think who do not see
  What the point is beyond which I had passed.
"Rise up," the Master said, "upon thy feet;
  The way is long, and difficult the road,
  And now the sun to middle-tierce returns."
It was not any palace corridor
  There where we were, but dungeon natural,
  With floor uneven and unease of light.
"Ere from the abyss I tear myself away,
  My Master," said I when I had arisen,
  "To draw me from an error speak a little;
Where is the ice? and how is this one fixed
  Thus upside down? and how in such short time
  From eve to morn has the sun made his transit?"
And he to me: "Thou still imaginest
  Thou art beyond the centre, where I grasped
  The hair of the fell worm, who mines the world.
That side thou wast, so long as I descended;
  When round I turned me, thou didst pass the point
  To which things heavy draw from every side,
And now beneath the hemisphere art come
  Opposite that which overhangs the vast
  Dry-land, and 'neath whose cope was put to death
The Man who without sin was born and lived.
  Thou hast thy feet upon the little sphere
  Which makes the other face of the Judecca.
Here it is morn when it is evening there;
  And he who with his hair a stairway made us
  Still fixed remaineth as he was before.
Upon this side he fell down out of heaven;
  And all the land, that whilom here emerged,
  For fear of him made of the sea a veil,
And came to our hemisphere; and peradventure
  To flee from him, what on this side appears
  Left the place vacant here, and back recoiled."
A place there is below, from Beelzebub
  As far receding as the tomb extends,
  Which not by sight is known, but by the sound
Of a small rivulet, that there descendeth
  Through chasm within the stone, which it has gnawed
  With course that winds about and slightly falls.
The Guide and I into that hidden road
  Now entered, to return to the bright world;
  And without care of having any rest
We mounted up, he first and I the second,
  Till I beheld through a round aperture
  Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.
The Divine Comedy
translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(e-text courtesy ILT's Digital Dante Project)
Purgatorio: Canto I
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail
  The little vessel of my genius now,
  That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel;
And of that second kingdom will I sing
  Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself,
  And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy.
But let dead Poesy here rise again,
  O holy Muses, since that I am yours,
  And here Calliope somewhat ascend,
My song accompanying with that sound,
  Of which the miserable magpies felt
  The blow so great, that they despaired of pardon.
Sweet colour of the oriental sapphire,
  That was upgathered in the cloudless aspect
  Of the pure air, as far as the first circle,
Unto mine eyes did recommence delight
  Soon as I issued forth from the dead air,
  Which had with sadness filled mine eyes and breast.
The beauteous planet, that to love incites,
  Was making all the orient to laugh,
  Veiling the Fishes that were in her escort.
To the right hand I turned, and fixed my mind
  Upon the other pole, and saw four stars
  Ne'er seen before save by the primal people.
Rejoicing in their flamelets seemed the heaven.
  O thou septentrional and widowed site,
  Because thou art deprived of seeing these!
When from regarding them I had withdrawn,
  Turning a little to the other pole,
  There where the Wain had disappeared already,
I saw beside me an old man alone,
  Worthy of so much reverence in his look,
  That more owes not to father any son.
A long beard and with white hair intermingled
  He wore, in semblance like unto the tresses,
  Of which a double list fell on his breast.
The rays of the four consecrated stars
  Did so adorn his countenance with light,
  That him I saw as were the sun before him.
"Who are you? ye who, counter the blind river,
  Have fled away from the eternal prison?"
  Moving those venerable plumes, he said:
"Who guided you? or who has been your lamp
  In issuing forth out of the night profound,
  That ever black makes the infernal valley?
The laws of the abyss, are they thus broken?
  Or is there changed in heaven some council new,
  That being damned ye come unto my crags?"
Then did my Leader lay his grasp upon me,
  And with his words, and with his hands and signs,
  Reverent he made in me my knees and brow;
Then answered him: "I came not of myself;
  A Lady from Heaven descended, at whose prayers
  I aided this one with my company.
But since it is thy will more be unfolded
  Of our condition, how it truly is,
  Mine cannot be that this should be denied thee.
This one has never his last evening seen,
  But by his folly was so near to it
  That very little time was there to turn.
As I have said, I unto him was sent
  To rescue him, and other way was none
  Than this to which I have myself betaken.
I've shown him all the people of perdition,
  And now those spirits I intend to show
  Who purge themselves beneath thy guardianship.
How I have brought him would be long to tell thee.
  Virtue descendeth from on high that aids me
  To lead him to behold thee and to hear thee.
Now may it please thee to vouchsafe his coming;
  He seeketh Liberty, which is so dear,
  As knoweth he who life for her refuses.
Thou know'st it; since, for her, to thee not bitter
  Was death in Utica, where thou didst leave
  The vesture, that will shine so, the great day.
By us the eternal edicts are not broken;
  Since this one lives, and Minos binds not me;
  But of that circle I, where are the chaste
Eyes of thy Marcia, who in looks still prays thee,
  O holy breast, to hold her as thine own;
  For her love, then, incline thyself to us.
Permit us through thy sevenfold realm to go;
  I will take back this grace from thee to her,
  If to be mentioned there below thou deignest."
"Marcia so pleasing was unto mine eyes
  While I was on the other side," then said he,
  "That every grace she wished of me I granted;
Now that she dwells beyond the evil river,
  She can no longer move me, by that law
  Which, when I issued forth from there, was made.
But if a Lady of Heaven do move and rule thee,
  As thou dost say, no flattery is needful;
  Let it suffice thee that for her thou ask me.
Go, then, and see thou gird this one about
  With a smooth rush, and that thou wash his face,
  So that thou cleanse away all stain therefrom,
For 'twere not fitting that the eye o'ercast
  By any mist should go before the first
  Angel, who is of those of Paradise.
This little island round about its base
  Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it,
  Doth rushes bear upon its washy ooze;
No other plant that putteth forth the leaf,
  Or that doth indurate, can there have life,
  Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks.
Thereafter be not this way your return;
  The sun, which now is rising, will direct you
  To take the mount by easier ascent."
With this he vanished; and I raised me up
  Without a word, and wholly drew myself
  Unto my Guide, and turned mine eyes to him.
And he began: "Son, follow thou my steps;
  Let us turn back, for on this side declines
  The plain unto its lower boundaries."
The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour
  Which fled before it, so that from afar
  I recognised the trembling of the sea.
Along the solitary plain we went
  As one who unto the lost road returns,
  And till he finds it seems to go in vain.
As soon as we were come to where the dew
  Fights with the sun, and, being in a part
  Where shadow falls, little evaporates,
Both of his hands upon the grass outspread
  In gentle manner did my Master place;
  Whence I, who of his action was aware,
Extended unto him my tearful cheeks;
  There did he make in me uncovered wholly
  That hue which Hell had covered up in me.
Then came we down upon the desert shore
  Which never yet saw navigate its waters
  Any that afterward had known return.
There he begirt me as the other pleased;
  O marvellous! for even as he culled
  The humble plant, such it sprang up again
Suddenly there where he uprooted it.
Purgatorio: Canto II
Already had the sun the horizon reached
  Whose circle of meridian covers o'er
  Jerusalem with its most lofty point,
And night that opposite to him revolves
  Was issuing forth from Ganges with the Scales
  That fall from out her hand when she exceedeth;
So that the white and the vermilion cheeks
  Of beautiful Aurora, where I was,
  By too great age were changing into orange.
We still were on the border of the sea,
  Like people who are thinking of their road,
  Who go in heart and with the body stay;
And lo! as when, upon the approach of morning,
  Through the gross vapours Mars grows fiery red
  Down in the West upon the ocean floor,
Appeared to me--may I again behold it!--
  A light along the sea so swiftly coming,
  Its motion by no flight of wing is equalled;
From which when I a little had withdrawn
  Mine eyes, that I might question my Conductor,
  Again I saw it brighter grown and larger.
Then on each side of it appeared to me
  I knew not what of white, and underneath it
  Little by little there came forth another.
My Master yet had uttered not a word
  While the first whiteness into wings unfolded;
  But when he clearly recognised the pilot,
He cried: "Make haste, make haste to bow the knee!
  Behold the Angel of God! fold thou thy hands!
  Henceforward shalt thou see such officers!
See how he scorneth human arguments,
  So that nor oar he wants, nor other sail
  Than his own wings, between so distant shores.
See how he holds them pointed up to heaven,
  Fanning the air with the eternal pinions,
  That do not moult themselves like mortal hair!"
Then as still nearer and more near us came
  The Bird Divine, more radiant he appeared,
  So that near by the eye could not endure him,
But down I cast it; and he came to shore
  With a small vessel, very swift and light,
  So that the water swallowed naught thereof.
Upon the stern stood the Celestial Pilot;
  Beatitude seemed written in his face,
  And more than a hundred spirits sat within.
"In exitu Israel de Aegypto!"
  They chanted all together in one voice,
  With whatso in that psalm is after written.
Then made he sign of holy rood upon them,
  Whereat all cast themselves upon the shore,
  And he departed swiftly as he came.
The throng which still remained there unfamiliar
  Seemed with the place, all round about them gazing,
  As one who in new matters makes essay.
On every side was darting forth the day.
  The sun, who had with his resplendent shafts
  From the mid-heaven chased forth the Capricorn,
When the new people lifted up their faces
  Towards us, saying to us: "If ye know,
  Show us the way to go unto the mountain."
And answer made Virgilius: "Ye believe
  Perchance that we have knowledge of this place,
  But we are strangers even as yourselves.
Just now we came, a little while before you,
  Another way, which was so rough and steep,
  That mounting will henceforth seem sport to us."
The souls who had, from seeing me draw breath,
  Become aware that I was still alive,
  Pallid in their astonishment became;
And as to messenger who bears the olive
  The people throng to listen to the news,
  And no one shows himself afraid of crowding,
So at the sight of me stood motionless
  Those fortunate spirits, all of them, as if
  Oblivious to go and make them fair.
One from among them saw I coming forward,
  As to embrace me, with such great affection,
  That it incited me to do the like.
O empty shadows, save in aspect only!
  Three times behind it did I clasp my hands,
  As oft returned with them to my own breast!
I think with wonder I depicted me;
  Whereat the shadow smiled and backward drew;
  And I, pursuing it, pressed farther forward.
Gently it said that I should stay my steps;
  Then knew I who it was, and I entreated
  That it would stop awhile to speak with me.
It made reply to me: "Even as I loved thee
  In mortal body, so I love thee free;
  Therefore I stop; but wherefore goest thou?"
"My own Casella! to return once more
  There where I am, I make this journey," said I;
  "But how from thee has so much time be taken?"
And he to me: "No outrage has been done me,
  If he who takes both when and whom he pleases
  Has many times denied to me this passage,
For of a righteous will his own is made.
  He, sooth to say, for three months past has taken
  Whoever wished to enter with all peace;
Whence I, who now had turned unto that shore
  Where salt the waters of the Tiber grow,
  Benignantly by him have been received.
Unto that outlet now his wing is pointed,
  Because for evermore assemble there
  Those who tow'rds Acheron do not descend."
And I: "If some new law take not from thee
  Memory or practice of the song of love,
  Which used to quiet in me all my longings,
Thee may it please to comfort therewithal
  Somewhat this soul of mine, that with its body
  Hitherward coming is so much distressed."
"Love, that within my mind discourses with me,"
  Forthwith began he so melodiously,
  The melody within me still is sounding.
My Master, and myself, and all that people
  Which with him were, appeared as satisfied
  As if naught else might touch the mind of any.
We all of us were moveless and attentive
  Unto his notes; and lo! the grave old man,
  Exclaiming: "What is this, ye laggard spirits?
What negligence, what standing still is this?
  Run to the mountain to strip off the slough,
  That lets not God be manifest to you."
Even as when, collecting grain or tares,
  The doves, together at their pasture met,
  Quiet, nor showing their accustomed pride,
If aught appear of which they are afraid,
  Upon a sudden leave their food alone,
  Because they are assailed by greater care;
So that fresh company did I behold
  The song relinquish, and go tow'rds the hill,
  As one who goes, and knows not whitherward;
Nor was our own departure less in haste.
Purgatorio: Canto III
Inasmuch as the instantaneous flight
  Had scattered them asunder o'er the plain,
  Turned to the mountain whither reason spurs us,
I pressed me close unto my faithful comrade,
  And how without him had I kept my course?
  Who would have led me up along the mountain?
He seemed to me within himself remorseful;
  O noble conscience, and without a stain,
  How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee!
After his feet had laid aside the haste
  Which mars the dignity of every act,
  My mind, that hitherto had been restrained,
Let loose its faculties as if delighted,
  And I my sight directed to the hill
  That highest tow'rds the heaven uplifts itself.
The sun, that in our rear was flaming red,
  Was broken in front of me into the figure
  Which had in me the stoppage of its rays;
Unto one side I turned me, with the fear
  Of being left alone, when I beheld
  Only in front of me the ground obscured.
"Why dost thou still mistrust?" my Comforter
  Began to say to me turned wholly round;
  "Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee?
'Tis evening there already where is buried
  The body within which I cast a shadow;
  'Tis from Brundusium ta'en, and Naples has it.
Now if in front of me no shadow fall,
  Marvel not at it more than at the heavens,
  Because one ray impedeth not another
To suffer torments, both of cold and heat,
  Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills
  That how it works be not unveiled to us.
Insane is he who hopeth that our reason
  Can traverse the illimitable way,
  Which the one Substance in three Persons follows!
Mortals, remain contented at the 'Quia;'
  For if ye had been able to see all,
  No need there were for Mary to give birth;
And ye have seen desiring without fruit,
  Those whose desire would have been quieted,
  Which evermore is given them for a grief.
I speak of Aristotle and of Plato,
  And many others;"--and here bowed his head,
  And more he said not, and remained disturbed.
We came meanwhile unto the mountain's foot;
  There so precipitate we found the rock,
  That nimble legs would there have been in vain.
'Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert,
  The most secluded pathway is a stair
  Easy and open, if compared with that.
"Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill
  Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying,
  "So that who goeth without wings may mount?"
And while he held his eyes upon the ground
  Examining the nature of the path,
  And I was looking up around the rock,
On the left hand appeared to me a throng
  Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction,
  And did not seem to move, they came so slowly.
"Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said;
  "Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel,
  If thou of thine own self can have it not."
Then he looked at me, and with frank expression
  Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly,
  And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son."
Still was that people as far off from us,
  After a thousand steps of ours I say,
  As a good thrower with his hand would reach,
When they all crowded unto the hard masses
  Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close,
  As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.
"O happy dead!  O spirits elect already!"
  Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace
  Which I believe is waiting for you all,
Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes,
  So that the going up be possible,
  For to lose time irks him most who most knows."
As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold
  By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand
  Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils,
And what the foremost does the others do,
  Huddling themselves against her, if she stop,
  Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not;
So moving to approach us thereupon
  I saw the leader of that fortunate flock,
  Modest in face and dignified in gait.
As soon as those in the advance saw broken
  The light upon the ground at my right side,
  So that from me the shadow reached the rock,
They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat;
  And all the others, who came after them,
  Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same.
"Without your asking, I confess to you
  This is a human body which you see,
  Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.
Marvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded
  That not without a power which comes from Heaven
  Doth he endeavour to surmount this wall."
The Master thus; and said those worthy people:
  "Return ye then, and enter in before us,"
  Making a signal with the back o' the hand
And one of them began: "Whoe'er thou art,
  Thus going turn thine eyes, consider well
  If e'er thou saw me in the other world."
I turned me tow'rds him, and looked at him closely;
  Blond was he, beautiful, and of noble aspect,
  But one of his eyebrows had a blow divided.
When with humility I had disclaimed
  E'er having seen him, "Now behold!" he said,
  And showed me high upon his breast a wound.
Then said he with a smile: "I am Manfredi,
  The grandson of the Empress Costanza;
  Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee
Go to my daughter beautiful, the mother
  Of Sicily's honour and of Aragon's,
  And the truth tell her, if aught else be told.
After I had my body lacerated
  By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself
  Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon.
Horrible my iniquities had been;
  But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms,
  That it receives whatever turns to it.
Had but Cosenza's pastor, who in chase
  Of me was sent by Clement at that time,
  In God read understandingly this page,
The bones of my dead body still would be
  At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento,
  Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn.
Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind,
  Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde,
  Where he transported them with tapers quenched.
By malison of theirs is not so lost
  Eternal Love, that it cannot return,
  So long as hope has anything of green.
True is it, who in contumacy dies
  Of Holy Church, though penitent at last,
  Must wait upon the outside this bank
Thirty times told the time that he has been
  In his presumption, unless such decree
  Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.
See now if thou hast power to make me happy,
  By making known unto my good Costanza
  How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside,
For those on earth can much advance us here."
Purgatorio: Canto IV
Whenever by delight or else by pain,
  That seizes any faculty of ours,
  Wholly to that the soul collects itself,
It seemeth that no other power it heeds;
  And this against that error is which thinks
  One soul above another kindles in us.
And hence, whenever aught is heard or seen
  Which keeps the soul intently bent upon it,
  Time passes on, and we perceive it not,
Because one faculty is that which listens,
  And other that which the soul keeps entire;
  This is as if in bonds, and that is free.
Of this I had experience positive
  In hearing and in gazing at that spirit;
  For fifty full degrees uprisen was
The sun, and I had not perceived it, when
  We came to where those souls with one accord
  Cried out unto us: "Here is what you ask."
A greater opening ofttimes hedges up
  With but a little forkful of his thorns
  The villager, what time the grape imbrowns,
Than was the passage-way through which ascended
  Only my Leader and myself behind him,
  After that company departed from us.
One climbs Sanleo and descends in Noli,
  And mounts the summit of Bismantova,
  With feet alone; but here one needs must fly;
With the swift pinions and the plumes I say
  Of great desire, conducted after him
  Who gave me hope, and made a light for me.
We mounted upward through the rifted rock,
  And on each side the border pressed upon us,
  And feet and hands the ground beneath required.
When we were come upon the upper rim
  Of the high bank, out on the open slope,
  "My Master," said I, "what way shall we take?"
And he to me: "No step of thine descend;
  Still up the mount behind me win thy way,
  Till some sage escort shall appear to us."
The summit was so high it vanquished sight,
  And the hillside precipitous far more
  Than line from middle quadrant to the centre.
Spent with fatigue was I, when I began:
  "O my sweet Father! turn thee and behold
  How I remain alone, unless thou stay!"
"O son," he said, "up yonder drag thyself,"
  Pointing me to a terrace somewhat higher,
  Which on that side encircles all the hill.
These words of his so spurred me on, that I
  Strained every nerve, behind him scrambling up,
  Until the circle was beneath my feet.
Thereon ourselves we seated both of us
  Turned to the East, from which we had ascended,
  For all men are delighted to look back.
To the low shores mine eyes I first directed,
  Then to the sun uplifted them, and wondered
  That on the left hand we were smitten by it.
The Poet well perceived that I was wholly
  Bewildered at the chariot of the light,
  Where 'twixt us and the Aquilon it entered.
Whereon he said to me: "If Castor and Pollux
  Were in the company of yonder mirror,
  That up and down conducteth with its light,
Thou wouldst behold the zodiac's jagged wheel
  Revolving still more near unto the Bears,
  Unless it swerved aside from its old track.
How that may be wouldst thou have power to think,
  Collected in thyself, imagine Zion
  Together with this mount on earth to stand,
So that they both one sole horizon have,
  And hemispheres diverse; whereby the road
  Which Phaeton, alas! knew not to drive,
Thou'lt see how of necessity must pass
  This on one side, when that upon the other,
  If thine intelligence right clearly heed."
"Truly, my Master," said I, "never yet
  Saw I so clearly as I now discern,
  There where my wit appeared incompetent,
That the mid-circle of supernal motion,
  Which in some art is the Equator called,
  And aye remains between the Sun and Winter,
For reason which thou sayest, departeth hence
  Tow'rds the Septentrion, what time the Hebrews
  Beheld it tow'rds the region of the heat.
But, if it pleaseth thee, I fain would learn
  How far we have to go; for the hill rises
  Higher than eyes of mine have power to rise."
And he to me: "This mount is such, that ever
  At the beginning down below 'tis tiresome,
  And aye the more one climbs, the less it hurts.
Therefore, when it shall seem so pleasant to thee,
  That going up shall be to thee as easy
  As going down the current in a boat,
Then at this pathway's ending thou wilt be;
  There to repose thy panting breath expect;
  No more I answer; and this I know for true."
And as he finished uttering these words,
  A voice close by us sounded: "Peradventure
  Thou wilt have need of sitting down ere that."
At sound thereof each one of us turned round,
  And saw upon the left hand a great rock,
  Which neither I nor he before had noticed.
Thither we drew; and there were persons there
  Who in the shadow stood behind the rock,
  As one through indolence is wont to stand.
And one of them, who seemed to me fatigued,
  Was sitting down, and both his knees embraced,
  Holding his face low down between them bowed.
"O my sweet Lord," I said, "do turn thine eye
  On him who shows himself more negligent
  Then even Sloth herself his sister were."
Then he turned round to us, and he gave heed,
  Just lifting up his eyes above his thigh,
  And said: "Now go thou up, for thou art valiant."
Then knew I who he was; and the distress,
  That still a little did my breathing quicken,
  My going to him hindered not; and after
I came to him he hardly raised his head,
  Saying: "Hast thou seen clearly how the sun
  O'er thy left shoulder drives his chariot?"
His sluggish attitude and his curt words
  A little unto laughter moved my lips;
  Then I began: "Belacqua, I grieve not
For thee henceforth; but tell me, wherefore seated
  In this place art thou?  Waitest thou an escort?
  Or has thy usual habit seized upon thee?"
And he: "O brother, what's the use of climbing?
  Since to my torment would not let me go
  The Angel of God, who sitteth at the gate.
First heaven must needs so long revolve me round
  Outside thereof, as in my life it did,
  Since the good sighs I to the end postponed,
Unless, e'er that, some prayer may bring me aid
  Which rises from a heart that lives in grace;
  What profit others that in heaven are heard not?"
Meanwhile the Poet was before me mounting,
  And saying: "Come now; see the sun has touched
  Meridian, and from the shore the night
Covers already with her foot Morocco."
Purgatorio: Canto V
I had already from those shades departed,
  And followed in the footsteps of my Guide,
  When from behind, pointing his finger at me,
One shouted: "See, it seems as if shone not
  The sunshine on the left of him below,
  And like one living seems he to conduct him."
Mine eyes I turned at utterance of these words,
  And saw them watching with astonishment
  But me, but me, and the light which was broken!
"Why doth thy mind so occupy itself,"
  The Master said, "that thou thy pace dost slacken?
  What matters it to thee what here is whispered?
Come after me, and let the people talk;
  Stand like a steadfast tower, that never wags
  Its top for all the blowing of the winds;
For evermore the man in whom is springing
  Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark,
  Because the force of one the other weakens."
What could I say in answer but "I come"?
  I said it somewhat with that colour tinged
  Which makes a man of pardon sometimes worthy.
Meanwhile along the mountain-side across
  Came people in advance of us a little,
  Singing the Miserere verse by verse.
When they became aware I gave no place
  For passage of the sunshine through my body,
  They changed their song into a long, hoarse "Oh!"
And two of them, in form of messengers,
  Ran forth to meet us, and demanded of us,
  "Of your condition make us cognisant."
And said my Master: "Ye can go your way
  And carry back again to those who sent you,
  That this one's body is of very flesh.
If they stood still because they saw his shadow,
  As I suppose, enough is answered them;
  Him let them honour, it may profit them."
Vapours enkindled saw I ne'er so swiftly
  At early nightfall cleave the air serene,
  Nor, at the set of sun, the clouds of August,
But upward they returned in briefer time,
  And, on arriving, with the others wheeled
  Tow'rds us, like troops that run without a rein.
"This folk that presses unto us is great,
  And cometh to implore thee," said the Poet;
  "So still go onward, and in going listen."
"O soul that goest to beatitude
  With the same members wherewith thou wast born,"
  Shouting they came, "a little stay thy steps,
Look, if thou e'er hast any of us seen,
  So that o'er yonder thou bear news of him;
  Ah, why dost thou go on?  Ah, why not stay?
Long since we all were slain by violence,
  And sinners even to the latest hour;
  Then did a light from heaven admonish us,
So that, both penitent and pardoning, forth
  From life we issued reconciled to God,
  Who with desire to see Him stirs our hearts."
And I: "Although I gaze into your faces,
  No one I recognize; but if may please you
  Aught I have power to do, ye well-born spirits,
Speak ye, and I will do it, by that peace
  Which, following the feet of such a Guide,
  From world to world makes itself sought by me."
And one began: "Each one has confidence
  In thy good offices without an oath,
  Unless the I cannot cut off the I will;
Whence I, who speak alone before the others,
  Pray thee, if ever thou dost see the land
  That 'twixt Romagna lies and that of Charles,
Thou be so courteous to me of thy prayers
  In Fano, that they pray for me devoutly,
  That I may purge away my grave offences.
From thence was I; but the deep wounds, through which
  Issued the blood wherein I had my seat,
  Were dealt me in bosom of the Antenori,
There where I thought to be the most secure;
  'Twas he of Este had it done, who held me
  In hatred far beyond what justice willed.
But if towards the Mira I had fled,
  When I was overtaken at Oriaco,
  I still should be o'er yonder where men breathe.
I ran to the lagoon, and reeds and mire
  Did so entangle me I fell, and saw there
  A lake made from my veins upon the ground."
Then said another: "Ah, be that desire
  Fulfilled that draws thee to the lofty mountain,
  As thou with pious pity aidest mine.
I was of Montefeltro, and am Buonconte;
  Giovanna, nor none other cares for me;
  Hence among these I go with downcast front."
And I to him: "What violence or what chance
  Led thee astray so far from Campaldino,
  That never has thy sepulture been known?"
"Oh," he replied, "at Casentino's foot
  A river crosses named Archiano, born
  Above the Hermitage in Apennine.
There where the name thereof becometh void
  Did I arrive, pierced through and through the throat,
  Fleeing on foot, and bloodying the plain;
There my sight lost I, and my utterance
  Ceased in the name of Mary, and thereat
  I fell, and tenantless my flesh remained.
Truth will I speak, repeat it to the living;
  God's Angel took me up, and he of hell
  Shouted: 'O thou from heaven, why dost thou rob me?
Thou bearest away the eternal part of him,
  For one poor little tear, that takes him from me;
  But with the rest I'll deal in other fashion!'
Well knowest thou how in the air is gathered
  That humid vapour which to water turns,
  Soon as it rises where the cold doth grasp it.
He joined that evil will, which aye seeks evil,
  To intellect, and moved the mist and wind
  By means of power, which his own nature gave;
Thereafter, when the day was spent, the valley
  From Pratomagno to the great yoke covered
  With fog, and made the heaven above intent,
So that the pregnant air to water changed;
  Down fell the rain, and to the gullies came
  Whate'er of it earth tolerated not;
And as it mingled with the mighty torrents,
  Towards the royal river with such speed
  It headlong rushed, that nothing held it back.
My frozen body near unto its outlet
  The robust Archian found, and into Arno
  Thrust it, and loosened from my breast the cross
I made of me, when agony o'ercame me;
  It rolled me on the banks and on the bottom,
  Then with its booty covered and begirt me."
"Ah, when thou hast returned unto the world,
  And rested thee from thy long journeying,"
  After the second followed the third spirit,
"Do thou remember me who am the Pia;
  Siena made me, unmade me Maremma;
  He knoweth it, who had encircled first,
Espousing me, my finger with his gem."
Purgatorio: Canto VI
Whene'er is broken up the game of Zara,
  He who has lost remains behind despondent,
  The throws repeating, and in sadness learns;
The people with the other all depart;
  One goes in front, and one behind doth pluck him,
  And at his side one brings himself to mind;
He pauses not, and this and that one hears;
  They crowd no more to whom his hand he stretches,
  And from the throng he thus defends himself.
Even such was I in that dense multitude,
  Turning to them this way and that my face,
  And, promising, I freed myself therefrom.
There was the Aretine, who from the arms
  Untamed of Ghin di Tacco had his death,
  And he who fleeing from pursuit was drowned.
There was imploring with his hands outstretched
  Frederick Novello, and that one of Pisa
  Who made the good Marzucco seem so strong.
I saw Count Orso; and the soul divided
  By hatred and by envy from its body,
  As it declared, and not for crime committed,
Pierre de la Brosse I say; and here provide
  While still on earth the Lady of Brabant,
  So that for this she be of no worse flock!
As soon as I was free from all those shades
  Who only prayed that some one else may pray,
  So as to hasten their becoming holy,
Began I: "It appears that thou deniest,
  O light of mine, expressly in some text,
  That orison can bend decree of Heaven;
And ne'ertheless these people pray for this.
  Might then their expectation bootless be?
  Or is to me thy saying not quite clear?"
And he to me: "My writing is explicit,
  And not fallacious is the hope of these,
  If with sane intellect 'tis well regarded;
For top of judgment doth not vail itself,
  Because the fire of love fulfils at once
  What he must satisfy who here installs him.
And there, where I affirmed that proposition,
  Defect was not amended by a prayer,
  Because the prayer from God was separate.
Verily, in so deep a questioning
  Do not decide, unless she tell it thee,
  Who light 'twixt truth and intellect shall be.
I know not if thou understand; I speak
  Of Beatrice; her shalt thou see above,
  Smiling and happy, on this mountain's top."
And I: "Good Leader, let us make more haste,
  For I no longer tire me as before;
  And see, e'en now the hill a shadow casts."
"We will go forward with this day" he answered,
  "As far as now is possible for us;
  But otherwise the fact is than thou thinkest.
Ere thou art up there, thou shalt see return
  Him, who now hides himself behind the hill,
  So that thou dost not interrupt his rays.
But yonder there behold! a soul that stationed
  All, all alone is looking hitherward;
  It will point out to us the quickest way."
We came up unto it; O Lombard soul,
  How lofty and disdainful thou didst bear thee,
  And grand and slow in moving of thine eyes!
Nothing whatever did it say to us,
  But let us go our way, eying us only
  After the manner of a couchant lion;
Still near to it Virgilius drew, entreating
  That it would point us out the best ascent;
  And it replied not unto his demand,
But of our native land and of our life
  It questioned us; and the sweet Guide began:
  "Mantua,"--and the shade, all in itself recluse,
Rose tow'rds him from the place where first it was,
  Saying: "O Mantuan, I am Sordello
  Of thine own land!" and one embraced the other.
Ah! servile Italy, grief's hostelry!
  A ship without a pilot in great tempest!
  No Lady thou of Provinces, but brothel!
That noble soul was so impatient, only
  At the sweet sound of his own native land,
  To make its citizen glad welcome there;
And now within thee are not without war
  Thy living ones, and one doth gnaw the other
  Of those whom one wall and one fosse shut in!
Search, wretched one, all round about the shores
  Thy seaboard, and then look within thy bosom,
  If any part of thee enjoyeth peace!
What boots it, that for thee Justinian
  The bridle mend, if empty be the saddle?
  Withouten this the shame would be the less.
Ah! people, thou that oughtest to be devout,
  And to let Caesar sit upon the saddle,
  If well thou hearest what God teacheth thee,
Behold how fell this wild beast has become,
  Being no longer by the spur corrected,
  Since thou hast laid thy hand upon the bridle.
O German Albert! who abandonest
  Her that has grown recalcitrant and savage,
  And oughtest to bestride her saddle-bow,
May a just judgment from the stars down fall
  Upon thy blood, and be it new and open,
  That thy successor may have fear thereof;
Because thy father and thyself have suffered,
  By greed of those transalpine lands distrained,
  The garden of the empire to be waste.
Come and behold Montecchi and Cappelletti,
  Monaldi and Fillippeschi, careless man!
  Those sad already, and these doubt-depressed!
Come, cruel one! come and behold the oppression
  Of thy nobility, and cure their wounds,
  And thou shalt see how safe is Santafiore!
Come and behold thy Rome, that is lamenting,
  Widowed, alone, and day and night exclaims,
  "My Caesar, why hast thou forsaken me?"
Come and behold how loving are the people;
  And if for us no pity moveth thee,
  Come and be made ashamed of thy renown!
And if it lawful be, O Jove Supreme!
  Who upon earth for us wast crucified,
  Are thy just eyes averted otherwhere?
Or preparation is 't, that, in the abyss
  Of thine own counsel, for some good thou makest
  From our perception utterly cut off?
For all the towns of Italy are full
  Of tyrants, and becometh a Marcellus
  Each peasant churl who plays the partisan!
My Florence! well mayst thou contented be
  With this digression, which concerns thee not,
  Thanks to thy people who such forethought take!
Many at heart have justice, but shoot slowly,
  That unadvised they come not to the bow,
  But on their very lips thy people have it!
Many refuse to bear the common burden;
  But thy solicitous people answereth
  Without being asked, and crieth: "I submit."
Now be thou joyful, for thou hast good reason;
  Thou affluent, thou in peace, thou full of wisdom!
  If I speak true, the event conceals it not.
Athens and Lacedaemon, they who made
  The ancient laws, and were so civilized,
  Made towards living well a little sign
Compared with thee, who makest such fine-spun
  Provisions, that to middle of November
  Reaches not what thou in October spinnest.
How oft, within the time of thy remembrance,
  Laws, money, offices, and usages
  Hast thou remodelled, and renewed thy members?
And if thou mind thee well, and see the light,
  Thou shalt behold thyself like a sick woman,
  Who cannot find repose upon her down,
But by her tossing wardeth off her pain.
Purgatorio: Canto VII
After the gracious and glad salutations
  Had three and four times been reiterated,
  Sordello backward drew and said, "Who are you?"
"Or ever to this mountain were directed
  The souls deserving to ascend to God,
  My bones were buried by Octavian.
I am Virgilius; and for no crime else
  Did I lose heaven, than for not having faith;"
  In this wise then my Leader made reply.
As one who suddenly before him sees
  Something whereat he marvels, who believes
  And yet does not, saying, "It is! it is not!"
So he appeared; and then bowed down his brow,
  And with humility returned towards him,
  And, where inferiors embrace, embraced him.
"O glory of the Latians, thou," he said,
  "Through whom our language showed what it could do
  O pride eternal of the place I came from,
What merit or what grace to me reveals thee?
  If I to hear thy words be worthy, tell me
  If thou dost come from Hell, and from what cloister."
"Through all the circles of the doleful realm,"
  Responded he, "have I come hitherward;
  Heaven's power impelled me, and with that I come.
I by not doing, not by doing, lost
  The sight of that high sun which thou desirest,
  And which too late by me was recognized.
A place there is below not sad with torments,
  But darkness only, where the lamentations
  Have not the sound of wailing, but are sighs.
There dwell I with the little innocents
  Snatched by the teeth of Death, or ever they
  Were from our human sinfulness exempt.
There dwell I among those who the three saintly
  Virtues did not put on, and without vice
  The others knew and followed all of them.
But if thou know and can, some indication
  Give us by which we may the sooner come
  Where Purgatory has its right beginning."
He answered: "No fixed place has been assigned us;
  'Tis lawful for me to go up and round;
  So far as I can go, as guide I join thee.
But see already how the day declines,
  And to go up by night we are not able;
  Therefore 'tis well to think of some fair sojourn.
Souls are there on the right hand here withdrawn;
  If thou permit me I will lead thee to them,
  And thou shalt know them not without delight."
"How is this?" was the answer; "should one wish
  To mount by night would he prevented be
  By others? or mayhap would not have power?"
And on the ground the good Sordello drew
  His finger, saying, "See, this line alone
  Thou couldst not pass after the sun is gone;
Not that aught else would hindrance give, however,
  To going up, save the nocturnal darkness;
  This with the want of power the will perplexes.
We might indeed therewith return below,
  And, wandering, walk the hill-side round about,
  While the horizon holds the day imprisoned."
Thereon my Lord, as if in wonder, said:
  "Do thou conduct us thither, where thou sayest
  That we can take delight in tarrying."
Little had we withdrawn us from that place,
  When I perceived the mount was hollowed out
  In fashion as the valleys here are hollowed.
"Thitherward," said that shade, "will we repair,
  Where of itself the hill-side makes a lap,
  And there for the new day will we await."
'Twixt hill and plain there was a winding path
  Which led us to the margin of that dell,
  Where dies the border more than half away.
Gold and fine silver, and scarlet and pearl-white,
  The Indian wood resplendent and serene,
  Fresh emerald the moment it is broken,
By herbage and by flowers within that hollow
  Planted, each one in colour would be vanquished,
  As by its greater vanquished is the less.
Nor in that place had nature painted only,
  But of the sweetness of a thousand odours
  Made there a mingled fragrance and unknown.
"Salve Regina," on the green and flowers
  There seated, singing, spirits I beheld,
  Which were not visible outside the valley.
"Before the scanty sun now seeks his nest,"
  Began the Mantuan who had led us thither,
  "Among them do not wish me to conduct you.
Better from off this ledge the acts and faces
  Of all of them will you discriminate,
  Than in the plain below received among them.
He who sits highest, and the semblance bears
  Of having what he should have done neglected,
  And to the others' song moves not his lips,
Rudolph the Emperor was, who had the power
  To heal the wounds that Italy have slain,
  So that through others slowly she revives.
The other, who in look doth comfort him,
  Governed the region where the water springs,
  The Moldau bears the Elbe, and Elbe the sea.
His name was Ottocar; and in swaddling-clothes
  Far better he than bearded Winceslaus
  His son, who feeds in luxury and ease.
And the small-nosed, who close in council seems
  With him that has an aspect so benign,
  Died fleeing and disflowering the lily;
Look there, how he is beating at his breast!
  Behold the other one, who for his cheek
  Sighing has made of his own palm a bed;
Father and father-in-law of France's Pest
  Are they, and know his vicious life and lewd,
  And hence proceeds the grief that so doth pierce them.
He who appears so stalwart, and chimes in,
  Singing, with that one of the manly nose,
  The cord of every valour wore begirt;
And if as King had after him remained
  The stripling who in rear of him is sitting,
  Well had the valour passed from vase to vase,
Which cannot of the other heirs be said.
  Frederick and Jacomo possess the realms,
  But none the better heritage possesses.
Not oftentimes upriseth through the branches
  The probity of man; and this He wills
  Who gives it, so that we may ask of Him.
Eke to the large-nosed reach my words, no less
  Than to the other, Pier, who with him sings;
  Whence Provence and Apulia grieve already
The plant is as inferior to its seed,
  As more than Beatrice and Margaret
  Costanza boasteth of her husband still.
Behold the monarch of the simple life,
  Harry of England, sitting there alone;
  He in his branches has a better issue.
He who the lowest on the ground among them
  Sits looking upward, is the Marquis William,
  For whose sake Alessandria and her war
Make Monferrat and Canavese weep."
Purgatorio: Canto VIII
'Twas now the hour that turneth back desire
  In those who sail the sea, and melts the heart,
  The day they've said to their sweet friends farewell,
And the new pilgrim penetrates with love,
  If he doth hear from far away a bell
  That seemeth to deplore the dying day,
When I began to make of no avail
  My hearing, and to watch one of the souls
  Uprisen, that begged attention with its hand.
It joined and lifted upward both its palms,
  Fixing its eyes upon the orient,
  As if it said to God, "Naught else I care for."
"Te lucis ante" so devoutly issued
  Forth from its mouth, and with such dulcet notes,
  It made me issue forth from my own mind.
And then the others, sweetly and devoutly,
  Accompanied it through all the hymn entire,
  Having their eyes on the supernal wheels.
Here, Reader, fix thine eyes well on the truth,
  For now indeed so subtile is the veil,
  Surely to penetrate within is easy.
I saw that army of the gentle-born
  Thereafterward in silence upward gaze,
  As if in expectation, pale and humble;
And from on high come forth and down descend,
  I saw two Angels with two flaming swords,
  Truncated and deprived of their points.
Green as the little leaflets just now born
  Their garments were, which, by their verdant pinions
  Beaten and blown abroad, they trailed behind.
One just above us came to take his station,
  And one descended to the opposite bank,
  So that the people were contained between them.
Clearly in them discerned I the blond head;
  But in their faces was the eye bewildered,
  As faculty confounded by excess.
"From Mary's bosom both of them have come,"
  Sordello said, "as guardians of the valley
  Against the serpent, that will come anon."
Whereupon I, who knew not by what road,
  Turned round about, and closely drew myself,
  Utterly frozen, to the faithful shoulders.
And once again Sordello: "Now descend we
  'Mid the grand shades, and we will speak to them;
  Right pleasant will it be for them to see you."
Only three steps I think that I descended,
  And was below, and saw one who was looking
  Only at me, as if he fain would know me.
Already now the air was growing dark,
  But not so that between his eyes and mine
  It did not show what it before locked up.
Tow'rds me he moved, and I tow'rds him did move;
  Noble Judge Nino! how it me delighted,
  When I beheld thee not among the damned!
No greeting fair was left unsaid between us;
  Then asked he: "How long is it since thou camest
  O'er the far waters to the mountain's foot?"
"Oh!" said I to him, "through the dismal places
  I came this morn; and am in the first life,
  Albeit the other, going thus, I gain."
And on the instant my reply was heard,
  He and Sordello both shrank back from me,
  Like people who are suddenly bewildered.
One to Virgilius, and the other turned
  To one who sat there, crying, "Up, Currado!
  Come and behold what God in grace has willed!"
Then, turned to me: "By that especial grace
  Thou owest unto Him, who so conceals
  His own first wherefore, that it has no ford,
When thou shalt be beyond the waters wide,
  Tell my Giovanna that she pray for me,
  Where answer to the innocent is made.
I do not think her mother loves me more,
  Since she has laid aside her wimple white,
  Which she, unhappy, needs must wish again.
Through her full easily is comprehended
  How long in woman lasts the fire of love,
  If eye or touch do not relight it often.
So fair a hatchment will not make for her
  The Viper marshalling the Milanese
  A-field, as would have made Gallura's Cock."
In this wise spake he, with the stamp impressed
  Upon his aspect of that righteous zeal
  Which measurably burneth in the heart.
My greedy eyes still wandered up to heaven,
  Still to that point where slowest are the stars,
  Even as a wheel the nearest to its axle.
And my Conductor: "Son, what dost thou gaze at
  Up there?"  And I to him: "At those three torches
  With which this hither pole is all on fire."
And he to me: "The four resplendent stars
  Thou sawest this morning are down yonder low,
  And these have mounted up to where those were."
As he was speaking, to himself Sordello
  Drew him, and said, "Lo there our Adversary!"
  And pointed with his finger to look thither.
Upon the side on which the little valley
  No barrier hath, a serpent was; perchance
  The same which gave to Eve the bitter food.
'Twixt grass and flowers came on the evil streak,
  Turning at times its head about, and licking
  Its back like to a beast that smoothes itself.
I did not see, and therefore cannot say
  How the celestial falcons 'gan to move,
  But well I saw that they were both in motion.
Hearing the air cleft by their verdant wings,
  The serpent fled, and round the Angels wheeled,
  Up to their stations flying back alike.
The shade that to the Judge had near approached
  When he had called, throughout that whole assault
  Had not a moment loosed its gaze on me.
"So may the light that leadeth thee on high
  Find in thine own free-will as much of wax
  As needful is up to the highest azure,"
Began it, "if some true intelligence
  Of Valdimagra or its neighbourhood
  Thou knowest, tell it me, who once was great there.
Currado Malaspina was I called;
  I'm not the elder, but from him descended;
  To mine I bore the love which here refineth."
"O," said I unto him, "through your domains
  I never passed, but where is there a dwelling
  Throughout all Europe, where they are not known?
That fame, which doeth honour to your house,
  Proclaims its Signors and proclaims its land,
  So that he knows of them who ne'er was there.
And, as I hope for heaven, I swear to you
  Your honoured family in naught abates
  The glory of the purse and of the sword.
It is so privileged by use and nature,
  That though a guilty head misguide the world,
  Sole it goes right, and scorns the evil way."
And he: "Now go; for the sun shall not lie
  Seven times upon the pillow which the Ram
  With all his four feet covers and bestrides,
Before that such a courteous opinion
  Shall in the middle of thy head be nailed
  With greater nails than of another's speech,
Unless the course of justice standeth still."
Purgatorio: Canto IX
The concubine of old Tithonus now
  Gleamed white upon the eastern balcony,
  Forth from the arms of her sweet paramour;
With gems her forehead all relucent was,
  Set in the shape of that cold animal
  Which with its tail doth smite amain the nations,
And of the steps, with which she mounts, the Night
  Had taken two in that place where we were,
  And now the third was bending down its wings;
When I, who something had of Adam in me,
  Vanquished by sleep, upon the grass reclined,
  There were all five of us already sat.
Just at the hour when her sad lay begins
  The little swallow, near unto the morning,
  Perchance in memory of her former woes,
And when the mind of man, a wanderer
  More from the flesh, and less by thought imprisoned,
  Almost prophetic in its visions is,
In dreams it seemed to me I saw suspended
  An eagle in the sky, with plumes of gold,
  With wings wide open, and intent to stoop,
And this, it seemed to me, was where had been
  By Ganymede his kith and kin abandoned,
  When to the high consistory he was rapt.
I thought within myself, perchance he strikes
  From habit only here, and from elsewhere
  Disdains to bear up any in his feet.
Then wheeling somewhat more, it seemed to me,
  Terrible as the lightning he descended,
  And snatched me upward even to the fire.
Therein it seemed that he and I were burning,
  And the imagined fire did scorch me so,
  That of necessity my sleep was broken.
Not otherwise Achilles started up,
  Around him turning his awakened eyes,
  And knowing not the place in which he was,
What time from Chiron stealthily his mother
  Carried him sleeping in her arms to Scyros,
  Wherefrom the Greeks withdrew him afterwards,
Than I upstarted, when from off my face
  Sleep fled away; and pallid I became,
  As doth the man who freezes with affright.
Only my Comforter was at my side,
  And now the sun was more than two hours high,
  And turned towards the sea-shore was my face.
"Be not intimidated," said my Lord,
  "Be reassured, for all is well with us;
  Do not restrain, but put forth all thy strength.
Thou hast at length arrived at Purgatory;
  See there the cliff that closes it around;
  See there the entrance, where it seems disjoined.
Whilom at dawn, which doth precede the day,
  When inwardly thy spirit was asleep
  Upon the flowers that deck the land below,
There came a Lady and said: 'I am Lucia;
  Let me take this one up, who is asleep;
  So will I make his journey easier for him.'
Sordello and the other noble shapes
  Remained; she took thee, and, as day grew bright,
  Upward she came, and I upon her footsteps.
She laid thee here; and first her beauteous eyes
  That open entrance pointed out to me;
  Then she and sleep together went away."
In guise of one whose doubts are reassured,
  And who to confidence his fear doth change,
  After the truth has been discovered to him,
So did I change; and when without disquiet
  My Leader saw me, up along the cliff
  He moved, and I behind him, tow'rd the height.
Reader, thou seest well how I exalt
  My theme, and therefore if with greater art
  I fortify it, marvel not thereat.
Nearer approached we, and were in such place,
  That there, where first appeared to me a rift
  Like to a crevice that disparts a wall,
I saw a portal, and three stairs beneath,
  Diverse in colour, to go up to it,
  And a gate-keeper, who yet spake no word.
And as I opened more and more mine eyes,
  I saw him seated on the highest stair,
  Such in the face that I endured it not.
And in his hand he had a naked sword,
  Which so reflected back the sunbeams tow'rds us,
  That oft in vain I lifted up mine eyes.
"Tell it from where you are, what is't you wish?"
  Began he to exclaim; "where is the escort?
  Take heed your coming hither harm you not!"
"A Lady of Heaven, with these things conversant,"
  My Master answered him, "but even now
  Said to us, 'Thither go; there is the portal.'"
"And may she speed your footsteps in all good,"
  Again began the courteous janitor;
  "Come forward then unto these stairs of ours."
Thither did we approach; and the first stair
  Was marble white, so polished and so smooth,
  I mirrored myself therein as I appear.
The second, tinct of deeper hue than perse,
  Was of a calcined and uneven stone,
  Cracked all asunder lengthwise and across.
The third, that uppermost rests massively,
  Porphyry seemed to me, as flaming red
  As blood that from a vein is spirting forth.
Both of his feet was holding upon this
  The Angel of God, upon the threshold seated,
  Which seemed to me a stone of diamond.
Along the three stairs upward with good will
  Did my Conductor draw me, saying: "Ask
  Humbly that he the fastening may undo."
Devoutly at the holy feet I cast me,
  For mercy's sake besought that he would open,
  But first upon my breast three times I smote.
Seven P's upon my forehead he described
  With the sword's point, and, "Take heed that thou wash
  These wounds, when thou shalt be within," he said.
Ashes, or earth that dry is excavated,
  Of the same colour were with his attire,
  And from beneath it he drew forth two keys.
One was of gold, and the other was of silver;
  First with the white, and after with the yellow,
  Plied he the door, so that I was content.
"Whenever faileth either of these keys
  So that it turn not rightly in the lock,"
  He said to us, "this entrance doth not open.
More precious one is, but the other needs
  More art and intellect ere it unlock,
  For it is that which doth the knot unloose.
From Peter I have them; and he bade me err
  Rather in opening than in keeping shut,
  If people but fall down before my feet."
Then pushed the portals of the sacred door,
  Exclaiming: "Enter; but I give you warning
  That forth returns whoever looks behind."
And when upon their hinges were turned round
  The swivels of that consecrated gate,
  Which are of metal, massive and sonorous,
Roared not so loud, nor so discordant seemed
  Tarpeia, when was ta'en from it the good
  Metellus, wherefore meagre it remained.
At the first thunder-peal I turned attentive,
  And "Te Deum laudamus" seemed to hear
  In voices mingled with sweet melody.
Exactly such an image rendered me
  That which I heard, as we are wont to catch,
  When people singing with the organ stand;
For now we hear, and now hear not, the words.
Purgatorio: Canto X
When we had crossed the threshold of the door
  Which the perverted love of souls disuses,
  Because it makes the crooked way seem straight,
Re-echoing I heard it closed again;
  And if I had turned back mine eyes upon it,
  What for my failing had been fit excuse?
We mounted upward through a rifted rock,
  Which undulated to this side and that,
  Even as a wave receding and advancing.
"Here it behoves us use a little art,"
  Began my Leader, "to adapt ourselves
  Now here, now there, to the receding side."
And this our footsteps so infrequent made,
  That sooner had the moon's decreasing disk
  Regained its bed to sink again to rest,
Than we were forth from out that needle's eye;
  But when we free and in the open were,
  There where the mountain backward piles itself,
I wearied out, and both of us uncertain
  About our way, we stopped upon a plain
  More desolate than roads across the deserts.
From where its margin borders on the void,
  To foot of the high bank that ever rises,
  A human body three times told would measure;
And far as eye of mine could wing its flight,
  Now on the left, and on the right flank now,
  The same this cornice did appear to me.
Thereon our feet had not been moved as yet,
  When I perceived the embankment round about,
  Which all right of ascent had interdicted,
To be of marble white, and so adorned
  With sculptures, that not only Polycletus,
  But Nature's self, had there been put to shame.
The Angel, who came down to earth with tidings
  Of peace, that had been wept for many a year,
  And opened Heaven from its long interdict,
In front of us appeared so truthfully
  There sculptured in a gracious attitude,
  He did not seem an image that is silent.
One would have sworn that he was saying, "Ave;"
  For she was there in effigy portrayed
  Who turned the key to ope the exalted love,
And in her mien this language had impressed,
  "Ecce ancilla Dei," as distinctly
  As any figure stamps itself in wax.
"Keep not thy mind upon one place alone,"
  The gentle Master said, who had me standing
  Upon that side where people have their hearts;
Whereat I moved mine eyes, and I beheld
  In rear of Mary, and upon that side
  Where he was standing who conducted me,
Another story on the rock imposed;
  Wherefore I passed Virgilius and drew near,
  So that before mine eyes it might be set.
There sculptured in the self-same marble were
  The cart and oxen, drawing the holy ark,
  Wherefore one dreads an office not appointed.
People appeared in front, and all of them
  In seven choirs divided, of two senses
  Made one say "No," the other, "Yes, they sing."
Likewise unto the smoke of the frankincense,
  Which there was imaged forth, the eyes and nose
  Were in the yes and no discordant made.
Preceded there the vessel benedight,
  Dancing with girded loins, the humble Psalmist,
  And more and less than King was he in this.
Opposite, represented at the window
  Of a great palace, Michal looked upon him,
  Even as a woman scornful and afflicted.
I moved my feet from where I had been standing,
  To examine near at hand another story,
  Which after Michal glimmered white upon me.
There the high glory of the Roman Prince
  Was chronicled, whose great beneficence
  Moved Gregory to his great victory;
'Tis of the Emperor Trajan I am speaking;
  And a poor widow at his bridle stood,
  In attitude of weeping and of grief.
Around about him seemed it thronged and full
  Of cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold
  Above them visibly in the wind were moving.
The wretched woman in the midst of these
  Seemed to be saying: "Give me vengeance, Lord,
  For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking."
And he to answer her: "Now wait until
  I shall return."  And she: "My Lord," like one
  In whom grief is impatient, "shouldst thou not
Return?"  And he: "Who shall be where I am
  Will give it thee."  And she: "Good deed of others
  What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own?"
Whence he: "Now comfort thee, for it behoves me
  That I discharge my duty ere I move;
  Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me."
He who on no new thing has ever looked
  Was the creator of this visible language,
  Novel to us, for here it is not found.
While I delighted me in contemplating
  The images of such humility,
  And dear to look on for their Maker's sake,
"Behold, upon this side, but rare they make
  Their steps," the Poet murmured, "many people;
  These will direct us to the lofty stairs."
Mine eyes, that in beholding were intent
  To see new things, of which they curious are,
  In turning round towards him were not slow.
But still I wish not, Reader, thou shouldst swerve
  From thy good purposes, because thou hearest
  How God ordaineth that the debt be paid;
Attend not to the fashion of the torment,
  Think of what follows; think that at the worst
  It cannot reach beyond the mighty sentence.
"Master," began I, "that which I behold
  Moving towards us seems to me not persons,
  And what I know not, so in sight I waver."
And he to me: "The grievous quality
  Of this their torment bows them so to earth,
  That my own eyes at first contended with it;
But look there fixedly, and disentangle
  By sight what cometh underneath those stones;
  Already canst thou see how each is stricken."
O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones!
  Who, in the vision of the mind infirm
  Confidence have in your backsliding steps,
Do ye not comprehend that we are worms,
  Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly
  That flieth unto judgment without screen?
Why floats aloft your spirit high in air?
  Like are ye unto insects undeveloped,
  Even as the worm in whom formation fails!
As to sustain a ceiling or a roof,
  In place of corbel, oftentimes a figure
  Is seen to join its knees unto its breast,
Which makes of the unreal real anguish
  Arise in him who sees it, fashioned thus
  Beheld I those, when I had ta'en good heed.
True is it, they were more or less bent down,
  According as they more or less were laden;
  And he who had most patience in his looks
Weeping did seem to say, "I can no more!"
Purgatorio: Canto XI
"Our Father, thou who dwellest in the heavens,
  Not circumscribed, but from the greater love
  Thou bearest to the first effects on high,
Praised be thy name and thine omnipotence
  By every creature, as befitting is
  To render thanks to thy sweet effluence.
Come unto us the peace of thy dominion,
  For unto it we cannot of ourselves,
  If it come not, with all our intellect.
Even as thine own Angels of their will
  Make sacrifice to thee, Hosanna singing,
  So may all men make sacrifice of theirs.
Give unto us this day our daily manna,
  Withouten which in this rough wilderness
  Backward goes he who toils most to advance.
And even as we the trespass we have suffered
  Pardon in one another, pardon thou
  Benignly, and regard not our desert.
Our virtue, which is easily o'ercome,
  Put not to proof with the old Adversary,
  But thou from him who spurs it so, deliver.
This last petition verily, dear Lord,
  Not for ourselves is made, who need it not,
  But for their sake who have remained behind us."
Thus for themselves and us good furtherance
  Those shades imploring, went beneath a weight
  Like unto that of which we sometimes dream,
Unequally in anguish round and round
  And weary all, upon that foremost cornice,
  Purging away the smoke-stains of the world.
If there good words are always said for us,
  What may not here be said and done for them,
  By those who have a good root to their will?
Well may we help them wash away the marks
  That hence they carried, so that clean and light
  They may ascend unto the starry wheels!
"Ah! so may pity and justice you disburden
  Soon, that ye may have power to move the wing,
  That shall uplift you after your desire,
Show us on which hand tow'rd the stairs the way
  Is shortest, and if more than one the passes,
  Point us out that which least abruptly falls;
For he who cometh with me, through the burden
  Of Adam's flesh wherewith he is invested,
  Against his will is chary of his climbing."
The words of theirs which they returned to those
  That he whom I was following had spoken,
  It was not manifest from whom they came,
But it was said: "To the right hand come with us
  Along the bank, and ye shall find a pass
  Possible for living person to ascend.
And were I not impeded by the stone,
  Which this proud neck of mine doth subjugate,
  Whence I am forced to hold my visage down,
Him, who still lives and does not name himself,
  Would I regard, to see if I may know him
  And make him piteous unto this burden.
A Latian was I, and born of a great Tuscan;
  Guglielmo Aldobrandeschi was my father;
  I know not if his name were ever with you.
The ancient blood and deeds of gallantry
  Of my progenitors so arrogant made me
  That, thinking not upon the common mother,
All men I held in scorn to such extent
  I died therefor, as know the Sienese,
  And every child in Campagnatico.
I am Omberto; and not to me alone
  Has pride done harm, but all my kith and kin
  Has with it dragged into adversity.
And here must I this burden bear for it
  Till God be satisfied, since I did not
  Among the living, here among the dead."
Listening I downward bent my countenance;
  And one of them, not this one who was speaking,
  Twisted himself beneath the weight that cramps him,
And looked at me, and knew me, and called out,
  Keeping his eyes laboriously fixed
  On me, who all bowed down was going with them.
"O," asked I him, "art thou not Oderisi,
  Agobbio's honour, and honour of that art
  Which is in Paris called illuminating?"
"Brother," said he, "more laughing are the leaves
  Touched by the brush of Franco Bolognese;
  All his the honour now, and mine in part.
In sooth I had not been so courteous
  While I was living, for the great desire
  Of excellence, on which my heart was bent.
Here of such pride is paid the forfeiture;
  And yet I should not be here, were it not
  That, having power to sin, I turned to God.
O thou vain glory of the human powers,
  How little green upon thy summit lingers,
  If't be not followed by an age of grossness!
In painting Cimabue thought that he
  Should hold the field, now Giotto has the cry,
  So that the other's fame is growing dim.
So has one Guido from the other taken
  The glory of our tongue, and he perchance
  Is born, who from the nest shall chase them both.
Naught is this mundane rumour but a breath
  Of wind, that comes now this way and now that,
  And changes name, because it changes side.
What fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off
  From thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst been dead
  Before thou left the 'pappo' and the 'dindi,'
Ere pass a thousand years? which is a shorter
  Space to the eterne, than twinkling of an eye
  Unto the circle that in heaven wheels slowest.
With him, who takes so little of the road
  In front of me, all Tuscany resounded;
  And now he scarce is lisped of in Siena,
Where he was lord, what time was overthrown
  The Florentine delirium, that superb
  Was at that day as now 'tis prostitute.
Your reputation is the colour of grass
  Which comes and goes, and that discolours it
  By which it issues green from out the earth."
And I: "Thy true speech fills my heart with good
  Humility, and great tumour thou assuagest;
  But who is he, of whom just now thou spakest?"
"That," he replied, "is Provenzan Salvani,
  And he is here because he had presumed
  To bring Siena all into his hands.
He has gone thus, and goeth without rest
  E'er since he died; such money renders back
  In payment he who is on earth too daring."
And I: "If every spirit who awaits
  The verge of life before that he repent,
  Remains below there and ascends not hither,
(Unless good orison shall him bestead,)
  Until as much time as he lived be passed,
  How was the coming granted him in largess?"
"When he in greatest splendour lived," said he,
  "Freely upon the Campo of Siena,
  All shame being laid aside, he placed himself;
And there to draw his friend from the duress
  Which in the prison-house of Charles he suffered,
  He brought himself to tremble in each vein.
I say no more, and know that I speak darkly;
  Yet little time shall pass before thy neighbours
  Will so demean themselves that thou canst gloss it.
This action has released him from those confines."
Purgatorio: Canto XII
Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke,
  I with that heavy-laden soul went on,
  As long as the sweet pedagogue permitted;
But when he said, "Leave him, and onward pass,
  For here 'tis good that with the sail and oars,
  As much as may be, each push on his barque;"
Upright, as walking wills it, I redressed
  My person, notwithstanding that my thoughts
  Remained within me downcast and abashed.
I had moved on, and followed willingly
  The footsteps of my Master, and we both
  Already showed how light of foot we were,
When unto me he said: "Cast down thine eyes;
  'Twere well for thee, to alleviate the way,
  To look upon the bed beneath thy feet."
As, that some memory may exist of them,
  Above the buried dead their tombs in earth
  Bear sculptured on them what they were before;
Whence often there we weep for them afresh,
  From pricking of remembrance, which alone
  To the compassionate doth set its spur;
So saw I there, but of a better semblance
  In point of artifice, with figures covered
  Whate'er as pathway from the mount projects.
I saw that one who was created noble
  More than all other creatures, down from heaven
  Flaming with lightnings fall upon one side.
I saw Briareus smitten by the dart
  Celestial, lying on the other side,
  Heavy upon the earth by mortal frost.
I saw Thymbraeus, Pallas saw, and Mars,
  Still clad in armour round about their father,
  Gaze at the scattered members of the giants.
I saw, at foot of his great labour, Nimrod,
  As if bewildered, looking at the people
  Who had been proud with him in Sennaar.
O Niobe! with what afflicted eyes
  Thee I beheld upon the pathway traced,
  Between thy seven and seven children slain!
O Saul! how fallen upon thy proper sword
  Didst thou appear there lifeless in Gilboa,
  That felt thereafter neither rain nor dew!
O mad Arachne! so I thee beheld
  E'en then half spider, sad upon the shreds
  Of fabric wrought in evil hour for thee!
O Rehoboam! no more seems to threaten
  Thine image there; but full of consternation
  A chariot bears it off, when none pursues!
Displayed moreo'er the adamantine pavement
  How unto his own mother made Alcmaeon
  Costly appear the luckless ornament;
Displayed how his own sons did throw themselves
  Upon Sennacherib within the temple,
  And how, he being dead, they left him there;
Displayed the ruin and the cruel carnage
  That Tomyris wrought, when she to Cyrus said,
  "Blood didst thou thirst for, and with blood I glut thee!"
Displayed how routed fled the Assyrians
  After that Holofernes had been slain,
  And likewise the remainder of that slaughter.
I saw there Troy in ashes and in caverns;
  O Ilion! thee, how abject and debased,
  Displayed the image that is there discerned!
Whoe'er of pencil master was or stile,
  That could portray the shades and traits which there
  Would cause each subtile genius to admire?
Dead seemed the dead, the living seemed alive;
  Better than I saw not who saw the truth,
  All that I trod upon while bowed I went.
Now wax ye proud, and on with looks uplifted,
  Ye sons of Eve, and bow not down your faces
  So that ye may behold your evil ways!
More of the mount by us was now encompassed,
  And far more spent the circuit of the sun,
  Than had the mind preoccupied imagined,
When he, who ever watchful in advance
  Was going on, began: "Lift up thy head,
  'Tis no more time to go thus meditating.
Lo there an Angel who is making haste
  To come towards us; lo, returning is
  From service of the day the sixth handmaiden.
With reverence thine acts and looks adorn,
  So that he may delight to speed us upward;
  Think that this day will never dawn again."
I was familiar with his admonition
  Ever to lose no time; so on this theme
  He could not unto me speak covertly.
Towards us came the being beautiful
  Vested in white, and in his countenance
  Such as appears the tremulous morning star.
His arms he opened, and opened then his wings;
  "Come," said he, "near at hand here are the steps,
  And easy from henceforth is the ascent."
At this announcement few are they who come!
  O human creatures, born to soar aloft,
  Why fall ye thus before a little wind?
He led us on to where the rock was cleft;
  There smote upon my forehead with his wings,
  Then a safe passage promised unto me.
As on the right hand, to ascend the mount
  Where seated is the church that lordeth it
  O'er the well-guided, above Rubaconte,
The bold abruptness of the ascent is broken
  By stairways that were made there in the age
  When still were safe the ledger and the stave,
E'en thus attempered is the bank which falls
  Sheer downward from the second circle there;
  But on this, side and that the high rock graze.
As we were turning thitherward our persons,
  "Beati pauperes spiritu," voices
  Sang in such wise that speech could tell it not.
Ah me! how different are these entrances
  From the Infernal! for with anthems here
  One enters, and below with wild laments.
We now were hunting up the sacred stairs,
  And it appeared to me by far more easy
  Than on the plain it had appeared before.
Whence I: "My Master, say, what heavy thing
  Has been uplifted from me, so that hardly
  Aught of fatigue is felt by me in walking?"
He answered: "When the P's which have remained
  Still on thy face almost obliterate
  Shall wholly, as the first is, be erased,
Thy feet will be so vanquished by good will,
  That not alone they shall not feel fatigue,
  But urging up will be to them delight."
Then did I even as they do who are going
  With something on the head to them unknown,
  Unless the signs of others make them doubt,
Wherefore the hand to ascertain is helpful,
  And seeks and finds, and doth fulfill the office
  Which cannot be accomplished by the sight;
And with the fingers of the right hand spread
  I found but six the letters, that had carved
  Upon my temples he who bore the keys;
Upon beholding which my Leader smiled.
Purgatorio: Canto XIII
We were upon the summit of the stairs,
  Where for the second time is cut away
  The mountain, which ascending shriveth all.
There in like manner doth a cornice bind
  The hill all round about, as does the first,
  Save that its arc more suddenly is curved.
Shade is there none, nor sculpture that appears;
  So seems the bank, and so the road seems smooth,
  With but the livid colour of the stone.
"If to inquire we wait for people here,"
  The Poet said, "I fear that peradventure
  Too much delay will our election have."
Then steadfast on the sun his eyes he fixed,
  Made his right side the centre of his motion,
  And turned the left part of himself about.
"O thou sweet light! with trust in whom I enter
  Upon this novel journey, do thou lead us,"
  Said he, "as one within here should be led.
Thou warmest the world, thou shinest over it;
  If other reason prompt not otherwise,
  Thy rays should evermore our leaders be!"
As much as here is counted for a mile,
  So much already there had we advanced
  In little time, by dint of ready will;
And tow'rds us there were heard to fly, albeit
  They were not visible, spirits uttering
  Unto Love's table courteous invitations,
The first voice that passed onward in its flight,
  "Vinum non habent," said in accents loud,
  And went reiterating it behind us.
And ere it wholly grew inaudible
  Because of distance, passed another, crying,
  "I am Orestes!" and it also stayed not.
"O," said I, "Father, these, what voices are they?"
  And even as I asked, behold the third,
  Saying: "Love those from whom ye have had evil!"
And the good Master said: "This circle scourges
  The sin of envy, and on that account
  Are drawn from love the lashes of the scourge.
The bridle of another sound shall be;
  I think that thou wilt hear it, as I judge,
  Before thou comest to the Pass of Pardon.
But fix thine eyes athwart the air right steadfast,
  And people thou wilt see before us sitting,
  And each one close against the cliff is seated."
Then wider than at first mine eyes I opened;
  I looked before me, and saw shades with mantles
  Not from the colour of the stone diverse.
And when we were a little farther onward,
  I heard a cry of, "Mary, pray for us!"
  A cry of, "Michael, Peter, and all Saints!"
I do not think there walketh still on earth
  A man so hard, that he would not be pierced
  With pity at what afterward I saw.
For when I had approached so near to them
  That manifest to me their acts became,
  Drained was I at the eyes by heavy grief.
Covered with sackcloth vile they seemed to me,
  And one sustained the other with his shoulder,
  And all of them were by the bank sustained.
Thus do the blind, in want of livelihood,
  Stand at the doors of churches asking alms,
  And one upon another leans his head,
So that in others pity soon may rise,
  Not only at the accent of their words,
  But at their aspect, which no less implores.
And as unto the blind the sun comes not,
  So to the shades, of whom just now I spake,
  Heaven's light will not be bounteous of itself;
For all their lids an iron wire transpierces,
  And sews them up, as to a sparhawk wild
  Is done, because it will not quiet stay.
To me it seemed, in passing, to do outrage,
  Seeing the others without being seen;
  Wherefore I turned me to my counsel sage.
Well knew he what the mute one wished to say,
  And therefore waited not for my demand,
  But said: "Speak, and be brief, and to the point."
I had Virgilius upon that side
  Of the embankment from which one may fall,
  Since by no border 'tis engarlanded;
Upon the other side of me I had
  The shades devout, who through the horrible seam
  Pressed out the tears so that they bathed their cheeks.
To them I turned me, and, "O people, certain,"
  Began I, "of beholding the high light,
  Which your desire has solely in its care,
So may grace speedily dissolve the scum
  Upon your consciences, that limpidly
  Through them descend the river of the mind,
Tell me, for dear 'twill be to me and gracious,
  If any soul among you here is Latian,
  And 'twill perchance be good for him I learn it."
"O brother mine, each one is citizen
  Of one true city; but thy meaning is,
  Who may have lived in Italy a pilgrim."
By way of answer this I seemed to hear
  A little farther on than where I stood,
  Whereat I made myself still nearer heard.
Among the rest I saw a shade that waited
  In aspect, and should any one ask how,
  Its chin it lifted upward like a blind man.
"Spirit," I said, "who stoopest to ascend,
  If thou art he who did reply to me,
  Make thyself known to me by place or name."
"Sienese was I," it replied, "and with
  The others here recleanse my guilty life,
  Weeping to Him to lend himself to us.
Sapient I was not, although I Sapia
  Was called, and I was at another's harm
  More happy far than at my own good fortune.
And that thou mayst not think that I deceive thee,
  Hear if I was as foolish as I tell thee.
  The arc already of my years descending,
My fellow-citizens near unto Colle
  Were joined in battle with their adversaries,
  And I was praying God for what he willed.
Routed were they, and turned into the bitter
  Passes of flight; and I, the chase beholding,
  A joy received unequalled by all others;
So that I lifted upward my bold face
  Crying to God, 'Henceforth I fear thee not,'
  As did the blackbird at the little sunshine.
Peace I desired with God at the extreme
  Of my existence, and as yet would not
  My debt have been by penitence discharged,
Had it not been that in remembrance held me
  Pier Pettignano in his holy prayers,
  Who out of charity was grieved for me.
But who art thou, that into our conditions
  Questioning goest, and hast thine eyes unbound
  As I believe, and breathing dost discourse?"
"Mine eyes," I said, "will yet be here ta'en from me,
  But for short space; for small is the offence
  Committed by their being turned with envy.
Far greater is the fear, wherein suspended
  My soul is, of the torment underneath,
  For even now the load down there weighs on me."
And she to me: "Who led thee, then, among us
  Up here, if to return below thou thinkest?"
  And I: "He who is with me, and speaks not;
And living am I; therefore ask of me,
  Spirit elect, if thou wouldst have me move
  O'er yonder yet my mortal feet for thee."
"O, this is such a novel thing to hear,"
  She answered, "that great sign it is God loves thee;
  Therefore with prayer of thine sometimes assist me.
And I implore, by what thou most desirest,
  If e'er thou treadest the soil of Tuscany,
  Well with my kindred reinstate my fame.
Them wilt thou see among that people vain
  Who hope in Talamone, and will lose there
  More hope than in discovering the Diana;
But there still more the admirals will lose."
Purgatorio: Canto XIV
"Who is this one that goes about our mountain,
  Or ever Death has given him power of flight,
  And opes his eyes and shuts them at his will?"
"I know not who, but know he's not alone;
  Ask him thyself, for thou art nearer to him,
  And gently, so that he may speak, accost him."
Thus did two spirits, leaning tow'rds each other,
  Discourse about me there on the right hand;
  Then held supine their faces to address me.
And said the one: "O soul, that, fastened still
  Within the body, tow'rds the heaven art going,
  For charity console us, and declare
Whence comest and who art thou; for thou mak'st us
  As much to marvel at this grace of thine
  As must a thing that never yet has been."
And I: "Through midst of Tuscany there wanders
  A streamlet that is born in Falterona,
  And not a hundred miles of course suffice it;
From thereupon do I this body bring.
  To tell you who I am were speech in vain,
  Because my name as yet makes no great noise."
"If well thy meaning I can penetrate
  With intellect of mine," then answered me
  He who first spake, "thou speakest of the Arno."
And said the other to him: "Why concealed
  This one the appellation of that river,
  Even as a man doth of things horrible?"
And thus the shade that questioned was of this
  Himself acquitted: "I know not; but truly
  'Tis fit the name of such a valley perish;
For from its fountain-head (where is so pregnant
  The Alpine mountain whence is cleft Peloro
  That in few places it that mark surpasses)
To where it yields itself in restoration
  Of what the heaven doth of the sea dry up,
  Whence have the rivers that which goes with them,
Virtue is like an enemy avoided
  By all, as is a serpent, through misfortune
  Of place, or through bad habit that impels them;
On which account have so transformed their nature
  The dwellers in that miserable valley,
  It seems that Circe had them in her pasture.
'Mid ugly swine, of acorns worthier
  Than other food for human use created,
  It first directeth its impoverished way.
Curs findeth it thereafter, coming downward,
  More snarling than their puissance demands,
  And turns from them disdainfully its muzzle.
It goes on falling, and the more it grows,
  The more it finds the dogs becoming wolves,
  This maledict and misadventurous ditch.
Descended then through many a hollow gulf,
  It finds the foxes so replete with fraud,
  They fear no cunning that may master them.
Nor will I cease because another hears me;
  And well 'twill be for him, if still he mind him
  Of what a truthful spirit to me unravels.
Thy grandson I behold, who doth become
  A hunter of those wolves upon the bank
  Of the wild stream, and terrifies them all.
He sells their flesh, it being yet alive;
  Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves;
  Many of life, himself of praise, deprives.
Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest;
  He leaves it such, a thousand years from now
  In its primeval state 'tis not re-wooded."
As at the announcement of impending ills
  The face of him who listens is disturbed,
  From whate'er side the peril seize upon him;
So I beheld that other soul, which stood
  Turned round to listen, grow disturbed and sad,
  When it had gathered to itself the word.
The speech of one and aspect of the other
  Had me desirous made to know their names,
  And question mixed with prayers I made thereof,
Whereat the spirit which first spake to me
  Began again: "Thou wishest I should bring me
  To do for thee what thou'lt not do for me;
But since God willeth that in thee shine forth
  Such grace of his, I'll not be chary with thee;
  Know, then, that I Guido del Duca am.
My blood was so with envy set on fire,
  That if I had beheld a man make merry,
  Thou wouldst have seen me sprinkled o'er with pallor.
From my own sowing such the straw I reap!
  O human race! why dost thou set thy heart
  Where interdict of partnership must be?
This is Renier; this is the boast and honour
  Of the house of Calboli, where no one since
  Has made himself the heir of his desert.
And not alone his blood is made devoid,
  'Twixt Po and mount, and sea-shore and the Reno,
  Of good required for truth and for diversion;
For all within these boundaries is full
  Of venomous roots, so that too tardily
  By cultivation now would they diminish.
Where is good Lizio, and Arrigo Manardi,
  Pier Traversaro, and Guido di Carpigna,
  O Romagnuoli into bastards turned?
When in Bologna will a Fabbro rise?
  When in Faenza a Bernardin di Fosco,
  The noble scion of ignoble seed?
Be not astonished, Tuscan, if I weep,
  When I remember, with Guido da Prata,
  Ugolin d' Azzo, who was living with us,
Frederick Tignoso and his company,
  The house of Traversara, and th' Anastagi,
  And one race and the other is extinct;
The dames and cavaliers, the toils and ease
  That filled our souls with love and courtesy,
  There where the hearts have so malicious grown!
O Brettinoro! why dost thou not flee,
  Seeing that all thy family is gone,
  And many people, not to be corrupted?
Bagnacaval does well in not begetting
  And ill does Castrocaro, and Conio worse,
  In taking trouble to beget such Counts.
Will do well the Pagani, when their Devil
  Shall have departed; but not therefore pure
  Will testimony of them e'er remain.
O Ugolin de' Fantoli, secure
  Thy name is, since no longer is awaited
  One who, degenerating, can obscure it!
But go now, Tuscan, for it now delights me
  To weep far better than it does to speak,
  So much has our discourse my mind distressed."
We were aware that those beloved souls
  Heard us depart; therefore, by keeping silent,
  They made us of our pathway confident.
When we became alone by going onward,
  Thunder, when it doth cleave the air, appeared
  A voice, that counter to us came, exclaiming:
"Shall slay me whosoever findeth me!"
  And fled as the reverberation dies
  If suddenly the cloud asunder bursts.
As soon as hearing had a truce from this,
  Behold another, with so great a crash,
  That it resembled thunderings following fast:
"I am Aglaurus, who became a stone!"
  And then, to press myself close to the Poet,
  I backward, and not forward, took a step.
Already on all sides the air was quiet;
  And said he to me: "That was the hard curb
  That ought to hold a man within his bounds;
But you take in the bait so that the hook
  Of the old Adversary draws you to him,
  And hence availeth little curb or call.
The heavens are calling you, and wheel around you,
  Displaying to you their eternal beauties,
  And still your eye is looking on the ground;
Whence He, who all discerns, chastises you."
Purgatorio: Canto XV
As much as 'twixt the close of the third hour
  And dawn of day appeareth of that sphere
  Which aye in fashion of a child is playing,
So much it now appeared, towards the night,
  Was of his course remaining to the sun;
  There it was evening, and 'twas midnight here;
And the rays smote the middle of our faces,
  Because by us the mount was so encircled,
  That straight towards the west we now were going
When I perceived my forehead overpowered
  Beneath the splendour far more than at first,
  And stupor were to me the things unknown,
Whereat towards the summit of my brow
  I raised my hands, and made myself the visor
  Which the excessive glare diminishes.
As when from off the water, or a mirror,
  The sunbeam leaps unto the opposite side,
  Ascending upward in the selfsame measure
That it descends, and deviates as far
  From falling of a stone in line direct,
  (As demonstrate experiment and art,)
So it appeared to me that by a light
  Refracted there before me I was smitten;
  On which account my sight was swift to flee.
"What is that, Father sweet, from which I cannot
  So fully screen my sight that it avail me,"
  Said I, "and seems towards us to be moving?"
"Marvel thou not, if dazzle thee as yet
  The family of heaven," he answered me;
  "An angel 'tis, who comes to invite us upward.
Soon will it be, that to behold these things
  Shall not be grievous, but delightful to thee
  As much as nature fashioned thee to feel."
When we had reached the Angel benedight,
  With joyful voice he said: "Here enter in
  To stairway far less steep than are the others."
We mounting were, already thence departed,
  And "Beati misericordes" was
  Behind us sung, "Rejoice, thou that o'ercomest!"
My Master and myself, we two alone
  Were going upward, and I thought, in going,
  Some profit to acquire from words of his;
And I to him directed me, thus asking:
  "What did the spirit of Romagna mean,
  Mentioning interdict and partnership?"
Whence he to me: "Of his own greatest failing
  He knows the harm; and therefore wonder not
  If he reprove us, that we less may rue it.
Because are thither pointed your desires
  Where by companionship each share is lessened,
  Envy doth ply the bellows to your sighs.
But if the love of the supernal sphere
  Should upwardly direct your aspiration,
  There would not be that fear within your breast;
For there, as much the more as one says 'Our,'
  So much the more of good each one possesses,
  And more of charity in that cloister burns."
"I am more hungering to be satisfied,"
  I said, "than if I had before been silent,
  And more of doubt within my mind I gather.
How can it be, that boon distributed
  The more possessors can more wealthy make
  Therein, than if by few it be possessed?"
And he to me: "Because thou fixest still
  Thy mind entirely upon earthly things,
  Thou pluckest darkness from the very light.
That goodness infinite and ineffable
  Which is above there, runneth unto love,
  As to a lucid body comes the sunbeam.
So much it gives itself as it finds ardour,
  So that as far as charity extends,
  O'er it increases the eternal valour.
And the more people thitherward aspire,
  More are there to love well, and more they love there,
  And, as a mirror, one reflects the other.
And if my reasoning appease thee not,
  Thou shalt see Beatrice; and she will fully
  Take from thee this and every other longing.
Endeavour, then, that soon may be extinct,
  As are the two already, the five wounds
  That close themselves again by being painful."
Even as I wished to say, "Thou dost appease me,"
  I saw that I had reached another circle,
  So that my eager eyes made me keep silence.
There it appeared to me that in a vision
  Ecstatic on a sudden I was rapt,
  And in a temple many persons saw;
And at the door a woman, with the sweet
  Behaviour of a mother, saying: "Son,
  Why in this manner hast thou dealt with us?
Lo, sorrowing, thy father and myself
  Were seeking for thee;"--and as here she ceased,
  That which appeared at first had disappeared.
Then I beheld another with those waters
  Adown her cheeks which grief distils whenever
  From great disdain of others it is born,
And saying: "If of that city thou art lord,
  For whose name was such strife among the gods,
  And whence doth every science scintillate,
Avenge thyself on those audacious arms
  That clasped our daughter, O Pisistratus;"
  And the lord seemed to me benign and mild
To answer her with aspect temperate:
  "What shall we do to those who wish us ill,
  If he who loves us be by us condemned?"
Then saw I people hot in fire of wrath,
  With stones a young man slaying, clamorously
  Still crying to each other, "Kill him! kill him!"
And him I saw bow down, because of death
  That weighed already on him, to the earth,
  But of his eyes made ever gates to heaven,
Imploring the high Lord, in so great strife,
  That he would pardon those his persecutors,
  With such an aspect as unlocks compassion.
Soon as my soul had outwardly returned
  To things external to it which are true,
  Did I my not false errors recognize.
My Leader, who could see me bear myself
  Like to a man that rouses him from sleep,
  Exclaimed: "What ails thee, that thou canst not stand?
But hast been coming more than half a league
  Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled,
  In guise of one whom wine or sleep subdues?"
"O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me,
  I'll tell thee," said I, "what appeared to me,
  When thus from me my legs were ta'en away."
And he: "If thou shouldst have a hundred masks
  Upon thy face, from me would not be shut
  Thy cogitations, howsoever small.
What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail
  To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace,
  Which from the eternal fountain are diffused.
I did not ask, 'What ails thee?' as he does
  Who only looketh with the eyes that see not
  When of the soul bereft the body lies,
But asked it to give vigour to thy feet;
  Thus must we needs urge on the sluggards, slow
  To use their wakefulness when it returns."
We passed along, athwart the twilight peering
  Forward as far as ever eye could stretch
  Against the sunbeams serotine and lucent;
And lo! by slow degrees a smoke approached
  In our direction, sombre as the night,
  Nor was there place to hide one's self therefrom.
This of our eyes and the pure air bereft us.
Purgatorio: Canto XVI
Darkness of hell, and of a night deprived
  Of every planet under a poor sky,
  As much as may be tenebrous with cloud,
Ne'er made unto my sight so thick a veil,
  As did that smoke which there enveloped us,
  Nor to the feeling of so rough a texture;
For not an eye it suffered to stay open;
  Whereat mine escort, faithful and sagacious,
  Drew near to me and offered me his shoulder.
E'en as a blind man goes behind his guide,
  Lest he should wander, or should strike against
  Aught that may harm or peradventure kill him,
So went I through the bitter and foul air,
  Listening unto my Leader, who said only,
  "Look that from me thou be not separated."
Voices I heard, and every one appeared
  To supplicate for peace and misericord
  The Lamb of God who takes away our sins.
Still "Agnus Dei" their exordium was;
  One word there was in all, and metre one,
  So that all harmony appeared among them.
"Master," I said, "are spirits those I hear?"
  And he to me: "Thou apprehendest truly,
  And they the knot of anger go unloosing."
"Now who art thou, that cleavest through our smoke
  And art discoursing of us even as though
  Thou didst by calends still divide the time?"
After this manner by a voice was spoken;
  Whereon my Master said: "Do thou reply,
  And ask if on this side the way go upward."
And I: "O creature that dost cleanse thyself
  To return beautiful to Him who made thee,
  Thou shalt hear marvels if thou follow me."
"Thee will I follow far as is allowed me,"
  He answered; "and if smoke prevent our seeing,
  Hearing shall keep us joined instead thereof."
Thereon began I: "With that swathing band
  Which death unwindeth am I going upward,
  And hither came I through the infernal anguish.
And if God in his grace has me infolded,
  So that he wills that I behold his court
  By method wholly out of modern usage,
Conceal not from me who ere death thou wast,
  But tell it me, and tell me if I go
  Right for the pass, and be thy words our escort."
"Lombard was I, and I was Marco called;
  The world I knew, and loved that excellence,
  At which has each one now unbent his bow.
For mounting upward, thou art going right."
  Thus he made answer, and subjoined: "I pray thee
  To pray for me when thou shalt be above."
And I to him: "My faith I pledge to thee
  To do what thou dost ask me; but am bursting
  Inly with doubt, unless I rid me of it.
First it was simple, and is now made double
  By thy opinion, which makes certain to me,
  Here and elsewhere, that which I couple with it.
The world forsooth is utterly deserted
  By every virtue, as thou tellest me,
  And with iniquity is big and covered;
But I beseech thee point me out the cause,
  That I may see it, and to others show it;
  For one in the heavens, and here below one puts it."
A sigh profound, that grief forced into Ai!
  He first sent forth, and then began he: "Brother,
  The world is blind, and sooth thou comest from it!
Ye who are living every cause refer
  Still upward to the heavens, as if all things
  They of necessity moved with themselves.
If this were so, in you would be destroyed
  Free will, nor any justice would there be
  In having joy for good, or grief for evil.
The heavens your movements do initiate,
  I say not all; but granting that I say it,
  Light has been given you for good and evil,
And free volition; which, if some fatigue
  In the first battles with the heavens it suffers,
  Afterwards conquers all, if well 'tis nurtured.
To greater force and to a better nature,
  Though free, ye subject are, and that creates
  The mind in you the heavens have not in charge.
Hence, if the present world doth go astray,
  In you the cause is, be it sought in you;
  And I therein will now be thy true spy.
Forth from the hand of Him, who fondles it
  Before it is, like to a little girl
  Weeping and laughing in her childish sport,
Issues the simple soul, that nothing knows,
  Save that, proceeding from a joyous Maker,
  Gladly it turns to that which gives it pleasure.
Of trivial good at first it tastes the savour;
  Is cheated by it, and runs after it,
  If guide or rein turn not aside its love.
Hence it behoved laws for a rein to place,
  Behoved a king to have, who at the least
  Of the true city should discern the tower.
The laws exist, but who sets hand to them?
  No one; because the shepherd who precedes
  Can ruminate, but cleaveth not the hoof;
Wherefore the people that perceives its guide
  Strike only at the good for which it hankers,
  Feeds upon that, and farther seeketh not.
Clearly canst thou perceive that evil guidance
  The cause is that has made the world depraved,
  And not that nature is corrupt in you.
Rome, that reformed the world, accustomed was
  Two suns to have, which one road and the other,
  Of God and of the world, made manifest.
One has the other quenched, and to the crosier
  The sword is joined, and ill beseemeth it
  That by main force one with the other go,
Because, being joined, one feareth not the other;
  If thou believe not, think upon the grain,
  For by its seed each herb is recognized.
In the land laved by Po and Adige,
  Valour and courtesy used to be found,
  Before that Frederick had his controversy;
Now in security can pass that way
  Whoever will abstain, through sense of shame,
  From speaking with the good, or drawing near them.
True, three old men are left, in whom upbraids
  The ancient age the new, and late they deem it
  That God restore them to the better life:
Currado da Palazzo, and good Gherardo,
  And Guido da Castel, who better named is,
  In fashion of the French, the simple Lombard:
Say thou henceforward that the Church of Rome,
  Confounding in itself two governments,
  Falls in the mire, and soils itself and burden."
"O Marco mine," I said, "thou reasonest well;
  And now discern I why the sons of Levi
  Have been excluded from the heritage.
But what Gherardo is it, who, as sample
  Of a lost race, thou sayest has remained
  In reprobation of the barbarous age?"
"Either thy speech deceives me, or it tempts me,"
  He answered me; "for speaking Tuscan to me,
  It seems of good Gherardo naught thou knowest.
By other surname do I know him not,
  Unless I take it from his daughter Gaia.
  May God be with you, for I come no farther.
Behold the dawn, that through the smoke rays out,
  Already whitening; and I must depart--
  Yonder the Angel is--ere he appear."
Thus did he speak, and would no farther hear me.
Purgatorio: Canto XVII
Remember, Reader, if e'er in the Alps
  A mist o'ertook thee, through which thou couldst see
  Not otherwise than through its membrane mole,
How, when the vapours humid and condensed
  Begin to dissipate themselves, the sphere
  Of the sun feebly enters in among them,
And thy imagination will be swift
  In coming to perceive how I re-saw
  The sun at first, that was already setting.
Thus, to the faithful footsteps of my Master
  Mating mine own, I issued from that cloud
  To rays already dead on the low shores.
O thou, Imagination, that dost steal us
  So from without sometimes, that man perceives not,
  Although around may sound a thousand trumpets,
Who moveth thee, if sense impel thee not?
  Moves thee a light, which in the heaven takes form,
  By self, or by a will that downward guides it.
Of her impiety, who changed her form
  Into the bird that most delights in singing,
  In my imagining appeared the trace;
And hereupon my mind was so withdrawn
  Within itself, that from without there came
  Nothing that then might be received by it.
Then reigned within my lofty fantasy
  One crucified, disdainful and ferocious
  In countenance, and even thus was dying.
Around him were the great Ahasuerus,
  Esther his wife, and the just Mordecai,
  Who was in word and action so entire.
And even as this image burst asunder
  Of its own self, in fashion of a bubble
  In which the water it was made of fails,
There rose up in my vision a young maiden
  Bitterly weeping, and she said: "O queen,
  Why hast thou wished in anger to be naught?
Thou'st slain thyself, Lavinia not to lose;
  Now hast thou lost me; I am she who mourns,
  Mother, at thine ere at another's ruin."
As sleep is broken, when upon a sudden
  New light strikes in upon the eyelids closed,
  And broken quivers ere it dieth wholly,
So this imagining of mine fell down
  As soon as the effulgence smote my face,
  Greater by far than what is in our wont.
I turned me round to see where I might be,
  When said a voice, "Here is the passage up;"
  Which from all other purposes removed me,
And made my wish so full of eagerness
  To look and see who was it that was speaking,
  It never rests till meeting face to face;
But as before the sun, which quells the sight,
  And in its own excess its figure veils,
  Even so my power was insufficient here.
"This is a spirit divine, who in the way
  Of going up directs us without asking,
  And who with his own light himself conceals.
He does with us as man doth with himself;
  For he who sees the need, and waits the asking,
  Malignly leans already tow'rds denial.
Accord we now our feet to such inviting,
  Let us make haste to mount ere it grow dark;
  For then we could not till the day return."
Thus my Conductor said; and I and he
  Together turned our footsteps to a stairway;
  And I, as soon as the first step I reached,
Near me perceived a motion as of wings,
  And fanning in the face, and saying, "'Beati
  Pacifici,' who are without ill anger."
Already over us were so uplifted
  The latest sunbeams, which the night pursues,
  That upon many sides the stars appeared.
"O manhood mine, why dost thou vanish so?"
  I said within myself; for I perceived
  The vigour of my legs was put in truce.
We at the point were where no more ascends
  The stairway upward, and were motionless,
  Even as a ship, which at the shore arrives;
And I gave heed a little, if I might hear
  Aught whatsoever in the circle new;
  Then to my Master turned me round and said:
"Say, my sweet Father, what delinquency
  Is purged here in the circle where we are?
  Although our feet may pause, pause not thy speech."
And he to me: "The love of good, remiss
  In what it should have done, is here restored;
  Here plied again the ill-belated oar;
But still more openly to understand,
  Turn unto me thy mind, and thou shalt gather
  Some profitable fruit from our delay.
Neither Creator nor a creature ever,
  Son," he began, "was destitute of love
  Natural or spiritual; and thou knowest it.
The natural was ever without error;
  But err the other may by evil object,
  Or by too much, or by too little vigour.
While in the first it well directed is,
  And in the second moderates itself,
  It cannot be the cause of sinful pleasure;
But when to ill it turns, and, with more care
  Or lesser than it ought, runs after good,
  'Gainst the Creator works his own creation.
Hence thou mayst comprehend that love must be
  The seed within yourselves of every virtue,
  And every act that merits punishment.
Now inasmuch as never from the welfare
  Of its own subject can love turn its sight,
  From their own hatred all things are secure;
And since we cannot think of any being
  Standing alone, nor from the First divided,
  Of hating Him is all desire cut off.
Hence if, discriminating, I judge well,
  The evil that one loves is of one's neighbour,
  And this is born in three modes in your clay.
There are, who, by abasement of their neighbour,
  Hope to excel, and therefore only long
  That from his greatness he may be cast down;
There are, who power, grace, honour, and renown
  Fear they may lose because another rises,
  Thence are so sad that the reverse they love;
And there are those whom injury seems to chafe,
  So that it makes them greedy for revenge,
  And such must needs shape out another's harm.
This threefold love is wept for down below;
  Now of the other will I have thee hear,
  That runneth after good with measure faulty.
Each one confusedly a good conceives
  Wherein the mind may rest, and longeth for it;
  Therefore to overtake it each one strives.
If languid love to look on this attract you,
  Or in attaining unto it, this cornice,
  After just penitence, torments you for it.
There's other good that does not make man happy;
  'Tis not felicity, 'tis not the good
  Essence, of every good the fruit and root.
The love that yields itself too much to this
  Above us is lamented in three circles;
  But how tripartite it may be described,
I say not, that thou seek it for thyself."
Purgatorio: Canto XVIII
An end had put unto his reasoning
  The lofty Teacher, and attent was looking
  Into my face, if I appeared content;
And I, whom a new thirst still goaded on,
  Without was mute, and said within: "Perchance
  The too much questioning I make annoys him."
But that true Father, who had comprehended
  The timid wish, that opened not itself,
  By speaking gave me hardihood to speak.
Whence I: "My sight is, Master, vivified
  So in thy light, that clearly I discern
  Whate'er thy speech importeth or describes.
Therefore I thee entreat, sweet Father dear,
  To teach me love, to which thou dost refer
  Every good action and its contrary."
"Direct," he said, "towards me the keen eyes
  Of intellect, and clear will be to thee
  The error of the blind, who would be leaders.
The soul, which is created apt to love,
  Is mobile unto everything that pleases,
  Soon as by pleasure she is waked to action.
Your apprehension from some real thing
  An image draws, and in yourselves displays it
  So that it makes the soul turn unto it.
And if, when turned, towards it she incline,
  Love is that inclination; it is nature,
  Which is by pleasure bound in you anew
Then even as the fire doth upward move
  By its own form, which to ascend is born,
  Where longest in its matter it endures,
So comes the captive soul into desire,
  Which is a motion spiritual, and ne'er rests
  Until she doth enjoy the thing beloved.
Now may apparent be to thee how hidden
  The truth is from those people, who aver
  All love is in itself a laudable thing;
Because its matter may perchance appear
  Aye to be good; but yet not each impression
  Is good, albeit good may be the wax."
"Thy words, and my sequacious intellect,"
  I answered him, "have love revealed to me;
  But that has made me more impregned with doubt;
For if love from without be offered us,
  And with another foot the soul go not,
  If right or wrong she go, 'tis not her merit."
And he to me: "What reason seeth here,
  Myself can tell thee; beyond that await
  For Beatrice, since 'tis a work of faith.
Every substantial form, that segregate
  From matter is, and with it is united,
  Specific power has in itself collected,
Which without act is not perceptible,
  Nor shows itself except by its effect,
  As life does in a plant by the green leaves.
But still, whence cometh the intelligence
  Of the first notions, man is ignorant,
  And the affection for the first allurements,
Which are in you as instinct in the bee
  To make its honey; and this first desire
  Merit of praise or blame containeth not.
Now, that to this all others may be gathered,
  Innate within you is the power that counsels,
  And it should keep the threshold of assent.
This is the principle, from which is taken
  Occasion of desert in you, according
  As good and guilty loves it takes and winnows.
Those who, in reasoning, to the bottom went,
  Were of this innate liberty aware,
  Therefore bequeathed they Ethics to the world.
Supposing, then, that from necessity
  Springs every love that is within you kindled,
  Within yourselves the power is to restrain it.
The noble virtue Beatrice understands
  By the free will; and therefore see that thou
  Bear it in mind, if she should speak of it."
The moon, belated almost unto midnight,
  Now made the stars appear to us more rare,
  Formed like a bucket, that is all ablaze,
And counter to the heavens ran through those paths
  Which the sun sets aflame, when he of Rome
  Sees it 'twixt Sardes and Corsicans go down;
And that patrician shade, for whom is named
  Pietola more than any Mantuan town,
  Had laid aside the burden of my lading;
Whence I, who reason manifest and plain
  In answer to my questions had received,
  Stood like a man in drowsy reverie.
But taken from me was this drowsiness
  Suddenly by a people, that behind
  Our backs already had come round to us.
And as, of old, Ismenus and Asopus
  Beside them saw at night the rush and throng,
  If but the Thebans were in need of Bacchus,
So they along that circle curve their step,
  From what I saw of those approaching us,
  Who by good-will and righteous love are ridden.
Full soon they were upon us, because running
  Moved onward all that mighty multitude,
  And two in the advance cried out, lamenting,
"Mary in haste unto the mountain ran,
  And Caesar, that he might subdue Ilerda,
  Thrust at Marseilles, and then ran into Spain."
"Quick! quick! so that the time may not be lost
  By little love!" forthwith the others cried,
  "For ardour in well-doing freshens grace!"
"O folk, in whom an eager fervour now
  Supplies perhaps delay and negligence,
  Put by you in well-doing, through lukewarmness,
This one who lives, and truly I lie not,
  Would fain go up, if but the sun relight us;
  So tell us where the passage nearest is."
These were the words of him who was my Guide;
  And some one of those spirits said: "Come on
  Behind us, and the opening shalt thou find;
So full of longing are we to move onward,
  That stay we cannot; therefore pardon us,
  If thou for churlishness our justice take.
I was San Zeno's Abbot at Verona,
  Under the empire of good Barbarossa,
  Of whom still sorrowing Milan holds discourse;
And he has one foot in the grave already,
  Who shall erelong lament that monastery,
  And sorry be of having there had power,
Because his son, in his whole body sick,
  And worse in mind, and who was evil-born,
  He put into the place of its true pastor."
If more he said, or silent was, I know not,
  He had already passed so far beyond us;
  But this I heard, and to retain it pleased me.
And he who was in every need my succour
  Said: "Turn thee hitherward; see two of them
  Come fastening upon slothfulness their teeth."
In rear of all they shouted: "Sooner were
  The people dead to whom the sea was opened,
  Than their inheritors the Jordan saw;
And those who the fatigue did not endure
  Unto the issue, with Anchises' son,
  Themselves to life withouten glory offered."
Then when from us so separated were
  Those shades, that they no longer could be seen,
  Within me a new thought did entrance find,
Whence others many and diverse were born;
  And so I lapsed from one into another,
  That in a reverie mine eyes I closed,
And meditation into dream transmuted.
Purgatorio: Canto XIX
It was the hour when the diurnal heat
  No more can warm the coldness of the moon,
  Vanquished by earth, or peradventure Saturn,
When geomancers their Fortuna Major
  See in the orient before the dawn
  Rise by a path that long remains not dim,
There came to me in dreams a stammering woman,
  Squint in her eyes, and in her feet distorted,
  With hands dissevered and of sallow hue.
I looked at her; and as the sun restores
  The frigid members which the night benumbs,
  Even thus my gaze did render voluble
Her tongue, and made her all erect thereafter
  In little while, and the lost countenance
  As love desires it so in her did colour.
When in this wise she had her speech unloosed,
  She 'gan to sing so, that with difficulty
  Could I have turned my thoughts away from her.
"I am," she sang, "I am the Siren sweet
  Who mariners amid the main unman,
  So full am I of pleasantness to hear.
I drew Ulysses from his wandering way
  Unto my song, and he who dwells with me
  Seldom departs so wholly I content him."
Her mouth was not yet closed again, before
  Appeared a Lady saintly and alert
  Close at my side to put her to confusion.
"Virgilius, O Virgilius! who is this?"
  Sternly she said; and he was drawing near
  With eyes still fixed upon that modest one.
She seized the other and in front laid open,
  Rending her garments, and her belly showed me;
  This waked me with the stench that issued from it.
I turned mine eyes, and good Virgilius said:
  "At least thrice have I called thee; rise and come;
  Find we the opening by which thou mayst enter."
I rose; and full already of high day
  Were all the circles of the Sacred Mountain,
  And with the new sun at our back we went.
Following behind him, I my forehead bore
  Like unto one who has it laden with thought,
  Who makes himself the half arch of a bridge,
When I heard say, "Come, here the passage is,"
  Spoken in a manner gentle and benign,
  Such as we hear not in this mortal region.
With open wings, which of a swan appeared,
  Upward he turned us who thus spake to us,
  Between the two walls of the solid granite.
He moved his pinions afterwards and fanned us,
  Affirming those 'qui lugent' to be blessed,
  For they shall have their souls with comfort filled.
"What aileth thee, that aye to earth thou gazest?"
  To me my Guide began to say, we both
  Somewhat beyond the Angel having mounted.
And I: "With such misgiving makes me go
  A vision new, which bends me to itself,
  So that I cannot from the thought withdraw me."
"Didst thou behold," he said, "that old enchantress,
  Who sole above us henceforth is lamented?
  Didst thou behold how man is freed from her?
Suffice it thee, and smite earth with thy heels,
  Thine eyes lift upward to the lure, that whirls
  The Eternal King with revolutions vast."
Even as the hawk, that first his feet surveys,
  Then turns him to the call and stretches forward,
  Through the desire of food that draws him thither,
Such I became, and such, as far as cleaves
  The rock to give a way to him who mounts,
  Went on to where the circling doth begin.
On the fifth circle when I had come forth,
  People I saw upon it who were weeping,
  Stretched prone upon the ground, all downward turned.
"Adhaesit pavimento anima mea,"
  I heard them say with sighings so profound,
  That hardly could the words be understood.
"O ye elect of God, whose sufferings
  Justice and Hope both render less severe,
  Direct ye us towards the high ascents."
"If ye are come secure from this prostration,
  And wish to find the way most speedily,
  Let your right hands be evermore outside."
Thus did the Poet ask, and thus was answered
  By them somewhat in front of us; whence I
  In what was spoken divined the rest concealed,
And unto my Lord's eyes mine eyes I turned;
  Whence he assented with a cheerful sign
  To what the sight of my desire implored.
When of myself I could dispose at will,
  Above that creature did I draw myself,
  Whose words before had caused me to take note,
Saying: "O Spirit, in whom weeping ripens
  That without which to God we cannot turn,
  Suspend awhile for me thy greater care.
Who wast thou, and why are your backs turned upwards,
  Tell me, and if thou wouldst that I procure thee
  Anything there whence living I departed."
And he to me: "Wherefore our backs the heaven
  Turns to itself, know shalt thou; but beforehand
  'Scias quod ego fui successor Petri.'
Between Siestri and Chiaveri descends
  A river beautiful, and of its name
  The title of my blood its summit makes.
A month and little more essayed I how
  Weighs the great cloak on him from mire who keeps it,
  For all the other burdens seem a feather.
Tardy, ah woe is me! was my conversion;
  But when the Roman Shepherd I was made,
  Then I discovered life to be a lie.
I saw that there the heart was not at rest,
  Nor farther in that life could one ascend;
  Whereby the love of this was kindled in me.
Until that time a wretched soul and parted
  From God was I, and wholly avaricious;
  Now, as thou seest, I here am punished for it.
What avarice does is here made manifest
  In the purgation of these souls converted,
  And no more bitter pain the Mountain has.
Even as our eye did not uplift itself
  Aloft, being fastened upon earthly things,
  So justice here has merged it in the earth.
As avarice had extinguished our affection
  For every good, whereby was action lost,
  So justice here doth hold us in restraint,
Bound and imprisoned by the feet and hands;
  And so long as it pleases the just Lord
  Shall we remain immovable and prostrate."
I on my knees had fallen, and wished to speak;
  But even as I began, and he was 'ware,
  Only by listening, of my reverence,
"What cause," he said, "has downward bent thee thus?"
  And I to him: "For your own dignity,
  Standing, my conscience stung me with remorse."
"Straighten thy legs, and upward raise thee, brother,"
  He answered: "Err not, fellow-servant am I
  With thee and with the others to one power.
If e'er that holy, evangelic sound,
  Which sayeth 'neque nubent,' thou hast heard,
  Well canst thou see why in this wise I speak.
Now go; no longer will I have thee linger,
  Because thy stay doth incommode my weeping,
  With which I ripen that which thou hast said.
On earth I have a grandchild named Alagia,
  Good in herself, unless indeed our house
  Malevolent may make her by example,
And she alone remains to me on earth."
Purgatorio: Canto XX
Ill strives the will against a better will;
  Therefore, to pleasure him, against my pleasure
  I drew the sponge not saturate from the water.
Onward I moved, and onward moved my Leader,
  Through vacant places, skirting still the rock,
  As on a wall close to the battlements;
For they that through their eyes pour drop by drop
  The malady which all the world pervades,
  On the other side too near the verge approach.
Accursed mayst thou be, thou old she-wolf,
  That more than all the other beasts hast prey,
  Because of hunger infinitely hollow!
O heaven, in whose gyrations some appear
  To think conditions here below are changed,
  When will he come through whom she shall depart?
Onward we went with footsteps slow and scarce,
  And I attentive to the shades I heard
  Piteously weeping and bemoaning them;
And I by peradventure heard "Sweet Mary!"
  Uttered in front of us amid the weeping
  Even as a woman does who is in child-birth;
And in continuance: "How poor thou wast
  Is manifested by that hostelry
  Where thou didst lay thy sacred burden down."
Thereafterward I heard: "O good Fabricius,
  Virtue with poverty didst thou prefer
  To the possession of great wealth with vice."
So pleasurable were these words to me
  That I drew farther onward to have knowledge
  Touching that spirit whence they seemed to come.
He furthermore was speaking of the largess
  Which Nicholas unto the maidens gave,
  In order to conduct their youth to honour.
"O soul that dost so excellently speak,
  Tell me who wast thou," said I, "and why only
  Thou dost renew these praises well deserved?
Not without recompense shall be thy word,
  If I return to finish the short journey
  Of that life which is flying to its end."
And he: "I'll tell thee, not for any comfort
  I may expect from earth, but that so much
  Grace shines in thee or ever thou art dead.
I was the root of that malignant plant
  Which overshadows all the Christian world,
  So that good fruit is seldom gathered from it;
But if Douay and Ghent, and Lille and Bruges
  Had Power, soon vengeance would be taken on it;
  And this I pray of Him who judges all.
Hugh Capet was I called upon the earth;
  From me were born the Louises and Philips,
  By whom in later days has France been governed.
I was the son of a Parisian butcher,
  What time the ancient kings had perished all,
  Excepting one, contrite in cloth of gray.
I found me grasping in my hands the rein
  Of the realm's government, and so great power
  Of new acquest, and so with friends abounding,
That to the widowed diadem promoted
  The head of mine own offspring was, from whom
  The consecrated bones of these began.
So long as the great dowry of Provence
  Out of my blood took not the sense of shame,
  'Twas little worth, but still it did no harm.
Then it began with falsehood and with force
  Its rapine; and thereafter, for amends,
  Took Ponthieu, Normandy, and Gascony.
Charles came to Italy, and for amends
  A victim made of Conradin, and then
  Thrust Thomas back to heaven, for amends.
A time I see, not very distant now,
  Which draweth forth another Charles from France,
  The better to make known both him and his.
Unarmed he goes, and only with the lance
  That Judas jousted with; and that he thrusts
  So that he makes the paunch of Florence burst.
He thence not land, but sin and infamy,
  Shall gain, so much more grievous to himself
  As the more light such damage he accounts.
The other, now gone forth, ta'en in his ship,
  See I his daughter sell, and chaffer for her
  As corsairs do with other female slaves.
What more, O Avarice, canst thou do to us,
  Since thou my blood so to thyself hast drawn,
  It careth not for its own proper flesh?
That less may seem the future ill and past,
  I see the flower-de-luce Alagna enter,
  And Christ in his own Vicar captive made.
I see him yet another time derided;
  I see renewed the vinegar and gall,
  And between living thieves I see him slain.
I see the modern Pilate so relentless,
  This does not sate him, but without decretal
  He to the temple bears his sordid sails!
When, O my Lord! shall I be joyful made
  By looking on the vengeance which, concealed,
  Makes sweet thine anger in thy secrecy?
What I was saying of that only bride
  Of the Holy Ghost, and which occasioned thee
  To turn towards me for some commentary,
So long has been ordained to all our prayers
  As the day lasts; but when the night comes on,
  Contrary sound we take instead thereof.
At that time we repeat Pygmalion,
  Of whom a traitor, thief, and parricide
  Made his insatiable desire of gold;
And the misery of avaricious Midas,
  That followed his inordinate demand,
  At which forevermore one needs but laugh.
The foolish Achan each one then records,
  And how he stole the spoils; so that the wrath
  Of Joshua still appears to sting him here.
Then we accuse Sapphira with her husband,
  We laud the hoof-beats Heliodorus had,
  And the whole mount in infamy encircles
Polymnestor who murdered Polydorus.
  Here finally is cried: 'O Crassus, tell us,
  For thou dost know, what is the taste of gold?'
Sometimes we speak, one loud, another low,
  According to desire of speech, that spurs us
  To greater now and now to lesser pace.
But in the good that here by day is talked of,
  Erewhile alone I was not; yet near by
  No other person lifted up his voice."
From him already we departed were,
  And made endeavour to o'ercome the road
  As much as was permitted to our power,
When I perceived, like something that is falling,
  The mountain tremble, whence a chill seized on me,
  As seizes him who to his death is going.
Certes so violently shook not Delos,
  Before Latona made her nest therein
  To give birth to the two eyes of the heaven.
Then upon all sides there began a cry,
  Such that the Master drew himself towards me,
  Saying, "Fear not, while I am guiding thee."
"Gloria in excelsis Deo," all
  Were saying, from what near I comprehended,
  Where it was possible to hear the cry.
We paused immovable and in suspense,
  Even as the shepherds who first heard that song,
  Until the trembling ceased, and it was finished.
Then we resumed again our holy path,
  Watching the shades that lay upon the ground,
  Already turned to their accustomed plaint.
No ignorance ever with so great a strife
  Had rendered me importunate to know,
  If erreth not in this my memory,
As meditating then I seemed to have;
  Nor out of haste to question did I dare,
  Nor of myself I there could aught perceive;
So I went onward timorous and thoughtful.
Purgatorio: Canto XXI
The natural thirst, that ne'er is satisfied
  Excepting with the water for whose grace
  The woman of Samaria besought,
Put me in travail, and haste goaded me
  Along the encumbered path behind my Leader
  And I was pitying that righteous vengeance;
And lo! in the same manner as Luke writeth
  That Christ appeared to two upon the way
  From the sepulchral cave already risen,
A shade appeared to us, and came behind us,
  Down gazing on the prostrate multitude,
  Nor were we ware of it, until it spake,
Saying, "My brothers, may God give you peace!"
  We turned us suddenly, and Virgilius rendered
  To him the countersign thereto conforming.
Thereon began he: "In the blessed council,
  Thee may the court veracious place in peace,
  That me doth banish in eternal exile!"
"How," said he, and the while we went with speed,
  "If ye are shades whom God deigns not on high,
  Who up his stairs so far has guided you?"
And said my Teacher: "If thou note the marks
  Which this one bears, and which the Angel traces
  Well shalt thou see he with the good must reign.
But because she who spinneth day and night
  For him had not yet drawn the distaff off,
  Which Clotho lays for each one and compacts,
His soul, which is thy sister and my own,
  In coming upwards could not come alone,
  By reason that it sees not in our fashion.
Whence I was drawn from out the ample throat
  Of Hell to be his guide, and I shall guide him
  As far on as my school has power to lead.
But tell us, if thou knowest, why such a shudder
  Erewhile the mountain gave, and why together
  All seemed to cry, as far as its moist feet?"
In asking he so hit the very eye
  Of my desire, that merely with the hope
  My thirst became the less unsatisfied.
"Naught is there," he began, "that without order
  May the religion of the mountain feel,
  Nor aught that may be foreign to its custom.
Free is it here from every permutation;
  What from itself heaven in itself receiveth
  Can be of this the cause, and naught beside;
Because that neither rain, nor hail, nor snow,
  Nor dew, nor hoar-frost any higher falls
  Than the short, little stairway of three steps.
Dense clouds do not appear, nor rarefied,
  Nor coruscation, nor the daughter of Thaumas,
  That often upon earth her region shifts;
No arid vapour any farther rises
  Than to the top of the three steps I spake of,
  Whereon the Vicar of Peter has his feet.
Lower down perchance it trembles less or more,
  But, for the wind that in the earth is hidden
  I know not how, up here it never trembled.
It trembles here, whenever any soul
  Feels itself pure, so that it soars, or moves
  To mount aloft, and such a cry attends it.
Of purity the will alone gives proof,
  Which, being wholly free to change its convent,
  Takes by surprise the soul, and helps it fly.
First it wills well; but the desire permits not,
  Which divine justice with the self-same will
  There was to sin, upon the torment sets.
And I, who have been lying in this pain
  Five hundred years and more, but just now felt
  A free volition for a better seat.
Therefore thou heardst the earthquake, and the pious
  Spirits along the mountain rendering praise
  Unto the Lord, that soon he speed them upwards."
So said he to him; and since we enjoy
  As much in drinking as the thirst is great,
  I could not say how much it did me good.
And the wise Leader: "Now I see the net
  That snares you here, and how ye are set free,
  Why the earth quakes, and wherefore ye rejoice.
Now who thou wast be pleased that I may know;
  And why so many centuries thou hast here
  Been lying, let me gather from thy words."
"In days when the good Titus, with the aid
  Of the supremest King, avenged the wounds
  Whence issued forth the blood by Judas sold,
Under the name that most endures and honours,
  Was I on earth," that spirit made reply,
  "Greatly renowned, but not with faith as yet.
My vocal spirit was so sweet, that Rome
  Me, a Thoulousian, drew unto herself,
  Where I deserved to deck my brows with myrtle.
Statius the people name me still on earth;
  I sang of Thebes, and then of great Achilles;
  But on the way fell with my second burden.
The seeds unto my ardour were the sparks
  Of that celestial flame which heated me,
  Whereby more than a thousand have been fired;
Of the Aeneid speak I, which to me
  A mother was, and was my nurse in song;
  Without this weighed I not a drachma's weight.
And to have lived upon the earth what time
  Virgilius lived, I would accept one sun
  More than I must ere issuing from my ban."
These words towards me made Virgilius turn
  With looks that in their silence said, "Be silent!"
  But yet the power that wills cannot do all things;
For tears and laughter are such pursuivants
  Unto the passion from which each springs forth,
  In the most truthful least the will they follow.
I only smiled, as one who gives the wink;
  Whereat the shade was silent, and it gazed
  Into mine eyes, where most expression dwells;
And, "As thou well mayst consummate a labour
  So great," it said, "why did thy face just now
  Display to me the lightning of a smile?"
Now am I caught on this side and on that;
  One keeps me silent, one to speak conjures me,
  Wherefore I sigh, and I am understood.
"Speak," said my Master, "and be not afraid
  Of speaking, but speak out, and say to him
  What he demands with such solicitude."
Whence I: "Thou peradventure marvellest,
  O antique spirit, at the smile I gave;
  But I will have more wonder seize upon thee.
This one, who guides on high these eyes of mine,
  Is that Virgilius, from whom thou didst learn
  To sing aloud of men and of the Gods.
If other cause thou to my smile imputedst,
  Abandon it as false, and trust it was
  Those words which thou hast spoken concerning him."
Already he was stooping to embrace
  My Teacher's feet; but he said to him: "Brother,
  Do not; for shade thou art, and shade beholdest."
And he uprising: "Now canst thou the sum
  Of love which warms me to thee comprehend,
  When this our vanity I disremember,
Treating a shadow as substantial thing."
Purgatorio: Canto XXII
Already was the Angel left behind us,
  The Angel who to the sixth round had turned us,
  Having erased one mark from off my face;
And those who have in justice their desire
  Had said to us, "Beati," in their voices,
  With "sitio," and without more ended it.
And I, more light than through the other passes,
  Went onward so, that without any labour
  I followed upward the swift-footed spirits;
When thus Virgilius began: "The love
  Kindled by virtue aye another kindles,
  Provided outwardly its flame appear.
Hence from the hour that Juvenal descended
  Among us into the infernal Limbo,
  Who made apparent to me thy affection,
My kindliness towards thee was as great
  As ever bound one to an unseen person,
  So that these stairs will now seem short to me.
But tell me, and forgive me as a friend,
  If too great confidence let loose the rein,
  And as a friend now hold discourse with me;
How was it possible within thy breast
  For avarice to find place, 'mid so much wisdom
  As thou wast filled with by thy diligence?"
These words excited Statius at first
  Somewhat to laughter; afterward he answered:
  "Each word of thine is love's dear sign to me.
Verily oftentimes do things appear
  Which give fallacious matter to our doubts,
  Instead of the true causes which are hidden!
Thy question shows me thy belief to be
  That I was niggard in the other life,
  It may be from the circle where I was;
Therefore know thou, that avarice was removed
  Too far from me; and this extravagance
  Thousands of lunar periods have punished.
And were it not that I my thoughts uplifted,
  When I the passage heard where thou exclaimest,
  As if indignant, unto human nature,
'To what impellest thou not, O cursed hunger
  Of gold, the appetite of mortal men?'
  Revolving I should feel the dismal joustings.
Then I perceived the hands could spread too wide
  Their wings in spending, and repented me
  As well of that as of my other sins;
How many with shorn hair shall rise again
  Because of ignorance, which from this sin
  Cuts off repentance living and in death!
And know that the transgression which rebuts
  By direct opposition any sin
  Together with it here its verdure dries.
Therefore if I have been among that folk
  Which mourns its avarice, to purify me,
  For its opposite has this befallen me."
"Now when thou sangest the relentless weapons
  Of the twofold affliction of Jocasta,"
  The singer of the Songs Bucolic said,
"From that which Clio there with thee preludes,
  It does not seem that yet had made thee faithful
  That faith without which no good works suffice.
If this be so, what candles or what sun
  Scattered thy darkness so that thou didst trim
  Thy sails behind the Fisherman thereafter?"
And he to him: "Thou first directedst me
  Towards Parnassus, in its grots to drink,
  And first concerning God didst me enlighten.
Thou didst as he who walketh in the night,
  Who bears his light behind, which helps him not,
  But wary makes the persons after him,
When thou didst say: 'The age renews itself,
  Justice returns, and man's primeval time,
  And a new progeny descends from heaven.'
Through thee I Poet was, through thee a Christian;
  But that thou better see what I design,
  To colour it will I extend my hand.
Already was the world in every part
  Pregnant with the true creed, disseminated
  By messengers of the eternal kingdom;
And thy assertion, spoken of above,
  With the new preachers was in unison;
  Whence I to visit them the custom took.
Then they became so holy in my sight,
  That, when Domitian persecuted them,
  Not without tears of mine were their laments;
And all the while that I on earth remained,
  Them I befriended, and their upright customs
  Made me disparage all the other sects.
And ere I led the Greeks unto the rivers
  Of Thebes, in poetry, I was baptized,
  But out of fear was covertly a Christian,
For a long time professing paganism;
  And this lukewarmness caused me the fourth circle
  To circuit round more than four centuries.
Thou, therefore, who hast raised the covering
  That hid from me whatever good I speak of,
  While in ascending we have time to spare,
Tell me, in what place is our friend Terentius,
  Caecilius, Plautus, Varro, if thou knowest;
  Tell me if they are damned, and in what alley."
"These, Persius and myself, and others many,"
  Replied my Leader, "with that Grecian are
  Whom more than all the rest the Muses suckled,
In the first circle of the prison blind;
  Ofttimes we of the mountain hold discourse
  Which has our nurses ever with itself.
Euripides is with us, Antiphon,
  Simonides, Agatho, and many other
  Greeks who of old their brows with laurel decked.
There some of thine own people may be seen,
  Antigone, Deiphile and Argia,
  And there Ismene mournful as of old.
There she is seen who pointed out Langia;
  There is Tiresias' daughter, and there Thetis,
  And there Deidamia with her sisters."
Silent already were the poets both,
  Attent once more in looking round about,
  From the ascent and from the walls released;
And four handmaidens of the day already
  Were left behind, and at the pole the fifth
  Was pointing upward still its burning horn,
What time my Guide: "I think that tow'rds the edge
  Our dexter shoulders it behoves us turn,
  Circling the mount as we are wont to do."
Thus in that region custom was our ensign;
  And we resumed our way with less suspicion
  For the assenting of that worthy soul
They in advance went on, and I alone
  Behind them, and I listened to their speech,
  Which gave me lessons in the art of song.
But soon their sweet discourses interrupted
  A tree which midway in the road we found,
  With apples sweet and grateful to the smell.
And even as a fir-tree tapers upward
  From bough to bough, so downwardly did that;
  I think in order that no one might climb it.
On that side where our pathway was enclosed
  Fell from the lofty rock a limpid water,
  And spread itself abroad upon the leaves.
The Poets twain unto the tree drew near,
  And from among the foliage a voice
  Cried: "Of this food ye shall have scarcity."
Then said: "More thoughtful Mary was of making
  The marriage feast complete and honourable,
  Than of her mouth which now for you responds;
And for their drink the ancient Roman women
  With water were content; and Daniel
  Disparaged food, and understanding won.
The primal age was beautiful as gold;
  Acorns it made with hunger savorous,
  And nectar every rivulet with thirst.
Honey and locusts were the aliments
  That fed the Baptist in the wilderness;
  Whence he is glorious, and so magnified
As by the Evangel is revealed to you."
Purgatorio: Canto XXIII
The while among the verdant leaves mine eyes
  I riveted, as he is wont to do
  Who wastes his life pursuing little birds,
My more than Father said unto me: "Son,
  Come now; because the time that is ordained us
  More usefully should be apportioned out."
I turned my face and no less soon my steps
  Unto the Sages, who were speaking so
  They made the going of no cost to me;
And lo! were heard a song and a lament,
  "Labia mea, Domine," in fashion
  Such that delight and dolence it brought forth.
"O my sweet Father, what is this I hear?"
  Began I; and he answered: "Shades that go
  Perhaps the knot unloosing of their debt."
In the same way that thoughtful pilgrims do,
  Who, unknown people on the road o'ertaking,
  Turn themselves round to them, and do not stop,
Even thus, behind us with a swifter motion
  Coming and passing onward, gazed upon us
  A crowd of spirits silent and devout.
Each in his eyes was dark and cavernous,
  Pallid in face, and so emaciate
  That from the bones the skin did shape itself.
I do not think that so to merest rind
  Could Erisichthon have been withered up
  By famine, when most fear he had of it.
Thinking within myself I said: "Behold,
  This is the folk who lost Jerusalem,
  When Mary made a prey of her own son."
Their sockets were like rings without the gems;
  Whoever in the face of men reads 'omo'
  Might well in these have recognised the 'm.'
Who would believe the odour of an apple,
  Begetting longing, could consume them so,
  And that of water, without knowing how?
I still was wondering what so famished them,
  For the occasion not yet manifest
  Of their emaciation and sad squalor;
And lo! from out the hollow of his head
  His eyes a shade turned on me, and looked keenly;
  Then cried aloud: "What grace to me is this?"
Never should I have known him by his look;
  But in his voice was evident to me
  That which his aspect had suppressed within it.
This spark within me wholly re-enkindled
  My recognition of his altered face,
  And I recalled the features of Forese.
"Ah, do not look at this dry leprosy,"
  Entreated he, "which doth my skin discolour,
  Nor at default of flesh that I may have;
But tell me truth of thee, and who are those
  Two souls, that yonder make for thee an escort;
  Do not delay in speaking unto me."
"That face of thine, which dead I once bewept,
  Gives me for weeping now no lesser grief,"
  I answered him, "beholding it so changed!
But tell me, for God's sake, what thus denudes you?
  Make me not speak while I am marvelling,
  For ill speaks he who's full of other longings."
And he to me: "From the eternal council
  Falls power into the water and the tree
  Behind us left, whereby I grow so thin.
All of this people who lamenting sing,
  For following beyond measure appetite
  In hunger and thirst are here re-sanctified.
Desire to eat and drink enkindles in us
  The scent that issues from the apple-tree,
  And from the spray that sprinkles o'er the verdure;
And not a single time alone, this ground
  Encompassing, is refreshed our pain,--
  I say our pain, and ought to say our solace,--
For the same wish doth lead us to the tree
  Which led the Christ rejoicing to say 'Eli,'
  When with his veins he liberated us."
And I to him: "Forese, from that day
  When for a better life thou changedst worlds,
  Up to this time five years have not rolled round.
If sooner were the power exhausted in thee
  Of sinning more, than thee the hour surprised
  Of that good sorrow which to God reweds us,
How hast thou come up hitherward already?
  I thought to find thee down there underneath,
  Where time for time doth restitution make."
And he to me: "Thus speedily has led me
  To drink of the sweet wormwood of these torments,
  My Nella with her overflowing tears;
She with her prayers devout and with her sighs
  Has drawn me from the coast where one where one awaits,
  And from the other circles set me free.
So much more dear and pleasing is to God
  My little widow, whom so much I loved,
  As in good works she is the more alone;
For the Barbagia of Sardinia
  By far more modest in its women is
  Than the Barbagia I have left her in.
O brother sweet, what wilt thou have me say?
  A future time is in my sight already,
  To which this hour will not be very old,
When from the pulpit shall be interdicted
  To the unblushing womankind of Florence
  To go about displaying breast and paps.
What savages were e'er, what Saracens,
  Who stood in need, to make them covered go,
  Of spiritual or other discipline?
But if the shameless women were assured
  Of what swift Heaven prepares for them, already
  Wide open would they have their mouths to howl;
For if my foresight here deceive me not,
  They shall be sad ere he has bearded cheeks
  Who now is hushed to sleep with lullaby.
O brother, now no longer hide thee from me;
  See that not only I, but all these people
  Are gazing there, where thou dost veil the sun."
Whence I to him: "If thou bring back to mind
  What thou with me hast been and I with thee,
  The present memory will be grievous still.
Out of that life he turned me back who goes
  In front of me, two days agone when round
  The sister of him yonder showed herself,"
And to the sun I pointed.  "Through the deep
  Night of the truly dead has this one led me,
  With this true flesh, that follows after him.
Thence his encouragements have led me up,
  Ascending and still circling round the mount
  That you doth straighten, whom the world made crooked.
He says that he will bear me company,
  Till I shall be where Beatrice will be;
  There it behoves me to remain without him.
This is Virgilius, who thus says to me,"
  And him I pointed at; "the other is
  That shade for whom just now shook every slope
Your realm, that from itself discharges him."
Purgatorio: Canto XXIV
Nor speech the going, nor the going that
  Slackened; but talking we went bravely on,
  Even as a vessel urged by a good wind.
And shadows, that appeared things doubly dead,
  From out the sepulchres of their eyes betrayed
  Wonder at me, aware that I was living.
And I, continuing my colloquy,
  Said: "Peradventure he goes up more slowly
  Than he would do, for other people's sake.
But tell me, if thou knowest, where is Piccarda;
  Tell me if any one of note I see
  Among this folk that gazes at me so."
"My sister, who, 'twixt beautiful and good,
  I know not which was more, triumphs rejoicing
  Already in her crown on high Olympus."
So said he first, and then: "'Tis not forbidden
  To name each other here, so milked away
  Is our resemblance by our dieting.
This," pointing with his finger, "is Buonagiunta,
  Buonagiunta, of Lucca; and that face
  Beyond him there, more peaked than the others,
Has held the holy Church within his arms;
  From Tours was he, and purges by his fasting
  Bolsena's eels and the Vernaccia wine."
He named me many others one by one;
  And all contented seemed at being named,
  So that for this I saw not one dark look.
I saw for hunger bite the empty air
  Ubaldin dalla Pila, and Boniface,
  Who with his crook had pastured many people.
I saw Messer Marchese, who had leisure
  Once at Forli for drinking with less dryness,
  And he was one who ne'er felt satisfied.
But as he does who scans, and then doth prize
  One more than others, did I him of Lucca,
  Who seemed to take most cognizance of me.
He murmured, and I know not what Gentucca
  From that place heard I, where he felt the wound
  Of justice, that doth macerate them so.
"O soul," I said, "that seemest so desirous
  To speak with me, do so that I may hear thee,
  And with thy speech appease thyself and me."
"A maid is born, and wears not yet the veil,"
  Began he, "who to thee shall pleasant make
  My city, howsoever men may blame it.
Thou shalt go on thy way with this prevision;
  If by my murmuring thou hast been deceived,
  True things hereafter will declare it to thee.
But say if him I here behold, who forth
  Evoked the new-invented rhymes, beginning,
  'Ladies, that have intelligence of love?'"
And I to him: "One am I, who, whenever
  Love doth inspire me, note, and in that measure
  Which he within me dictates, singing go."
"O brother, now I see," he said, "the knot
  Which me, the Notary, and Guittone held
  Short of the sweet new style that now I hear.
I do perceive full clearly how your pens
  Go closely following after him who dictates,
  Which with our own forsooth came not to pass;
And he who sets himself to go beyond,
  No difference sees from one style to another;"
  And as if satisfied, he held his peace.
Even as the birds, that winter tow'rds the Nile,
  Sometimes into a phalanx form themselves,
  Then fly in greater haste, and go in file;
In such wise all the people who were there,
  Turning their faces, hurried on their steps,
  Both by their leanness and their wishes light.
And as a man, who weary is with trotting,
  Lets his companions onward go, and walks,
  Until he vents the panting of his chest;
So did Forese let the holy flock
  Pass by, and came with me behind it, saying,
  "When will it be that I again shall see thee?"
"How long," I answered, "I may live, I know not;
  Yet my return will not so speedy be,
  But I shall sooner in desire arrive;
Because the place where I was set to live
  From day to day of good is more depleted,
  And unto dismal ruin seems ordained."
"Now go," he said, "for him most guilty of it
  At a beast's tail behold I dragged along
  Towards the valley where is no repentance.
Faster at every step the beast is going,
  Increasing evermore until it smites him,
  And leaves the body vilely mutilated.
Not long those wheels shall turn," and he uplifted
  His eyes to heaven, "ere shall be clear to thee
  That which my speech no farther can declare.
Now stay behind; because the time so precious
  Is in this kingdom, that I lose too much
  By coming onward thus abreast with thee."
As sometimes issues forth upon a gallop
  A cavalier from out a troop that ride,
  And seeks the honour of the first encounter,
So he with greater strides departed from us;
  And on the road remained I with those two,
  Who were such mighty marshals of the world.
And when before us he had gone so far
  Mine eyes became to him such pursuivants
  As was my understanding to his words,
Appeared to me with laden and living boughs
  Another apple-tree, and not far distant,
  From having but just then turned thitherward.
People I saw beneath it lift their hands,
  And cry I know not what towards the leaves,
  Like little children eager and deluded,
Who pray, and he they pray to doth not answer,
  But, to make very keen their appetite,
  Holds their desire aloft, and hides it not.
Then they departed as if undeceived;
  And now we came unto the mighty tree
  Which prayers and tears so manifold refuses.
"Pass farther onward without drawing near;
  The tree of which Eve ate is higher up,
  And out of that one has this tree been raised."
Thus said I know not who among the branches;
  Whereat Virgilius, Statius, and myself
  Went crowding forward on the side that rises.
"Be mindful," said he, "of the accursed ones
  Formed of the cloud-rack, who inebriate
  Combated Theseus with their double breasts;
And of the Jews who showed them soft in drinking,
  Whence Gideon would not have them for companions
  When he tow'rds Midian the hills descended."
Thus, closely pressed to one of the two borders,
  On passed we, hearing sins of gluttony,
  Followed forsooth by miserable gains;
Then set at large upon the lonely road,
  A thousand steps and more we onward went,
  In contemplation, each without a word.
"What go ye thinking thus, ye three alone?"
  Said suddenly a voice, whereat I started
  As terrified and timid beasts are wont.
I raised my head to see who this might be,
  And never in a furnace was there seen
  Metals or glass so lucent and so red
As one I saw who said: "If it may please you
  To mount aloft, here it behoves you turn;
  This way goes he who goeth after peace."
His aspect had bereft me of my sight,
  So that I turned me back unto my Teachers,
  Like one who goeth as his hearing guides him.
And as, the harbinger of early dawn,
  The air of May doth move and breathe out fragrance,
  Impregnate all with herbage and with flowers,
So did I feel a breeze strike in the midst
  My front, and felt the moving of the plumes
  That breathed around an odour of ambrosia;
And heard it said: "Blessed are they whom grace
  So much illumines, that the love of taste
  Excites not in their breasts too great desire,
Hungering at all times so far as is just."
Purgatorio: Canto XXV
Now was it the ascent no hindrance brooked,
  Because the sun had his meridian circle
  To Taurus left, and night to Scorpio;
Wherefore as doth a man who tarries not,
  But goes his way, whate'er to him appear,
  If of necessity the sting transfix him,
In this wise did we enter through the gap,
  Taking the stairway, one before the other,
  Which by its narrowness divides the climbers.
And as the little stork that lifts its wing
  With a desire to fly, and does not venture
  To leave the nest, and lets it downward droop,
Even such was I, with the desire of asking
  Kindled and quenched, unto the motion coming
  He makes who doth address himself to speak.
Not for our pace, though rapid it might be,
  My father sweet forbore, but said: "Let fly
  The bow of speech thou to the barb hast drawn."
With confidence I opened then my mouth,
  And I began: "How can one meagre grow
  There where the need of nutriment applies not?"
"If thou wouldst call to mind how Meleager
  Was wasted by the wasting of a brand,
  This would not," said he, "be to thee so sour;
And wouldst thou think how at each tremulous motion
  Trembles within a mirror your own image;
  That which seems hard would mellow seem to thee.
But that thou mayst content thee in thy wish
  Lo Statius here; and him I call and pray
  He now will be the healer of thy wounds."
"If I unfold to him the eternal vengeance,"
  Responded Statius, "where thou present art,
  Be my excuse that I can naught deny thee."
Then he began: "Son, if these words of mine
  Thy mind doth contemplate and doth receive,
  They'll be thy light unto the How thou sayest.
The perfect blood, which never is drunk up
  Into the thirsty veins, and which remaineth
  Like food that from the table thou removest,
Takes in the heart for all the human members
  Virtue informative, as being that
  Which to be changed to them goes through the veins
Again digest, descends it where 'tis better
  Silent to be than say; and then drops thence
  Upon another's blood in natural vase.
There one together with the other mingles,
  One to be passive meant, the other active
  By reason of the perfect place it springs from;
And being conjoined, begins to operate,
  Coagulating first, then vivifying
  What for its matter it had made consistent.
The active virtue, being made a soul
  As of a plant, (in so far different,
  This on the way is, that arrived already,)
Then works so much, that now it moves and feels
  Like a sea-fungus, and then undertakes
  To organize the powers whose seed it is.
Now, Son, dilates and now distends itself
  The virtue from the generator's heart,
  Where nature is intent on all the members.
But how from animal it man becomes
  Thou dost not see as yet; this is a point
  Which made a wiser man than thou once err
So far, that in his doctrine separate
  He made the soul from possible intellect,
  For he no organ saw by this assumed.
Open thy breast unto the truth that's coming,
  And know that, just as soon as in the foetus
  The articulation of the brain is perfect,
The primal Motor turns to it well pleased
  At so great art of nature, and inspires
  A spirit new with virtue all replete,
Which what it finds there active doth attract
  Into its substance, and becomes one soul,
  Which lives, and feels, and on itself revolves.
And that thou less may wonder at my word,
  Behold the sun's heat, which becometh wine,
  Joined to the juice that from the vine distils.
Whenever Lachesis has no more thread,
  It separates from the flesh, and virtually
  Bears with itself the human and divine;
The other faculties are voiceless all;
  The memory, the intelligence, and the will
  In action far more vigorous than before.
Without a pause it falleth of itself
  In marvellous way on one shore or the other;
  There of its roads it first is cognizant.
Soon as the place there circumscribeth it,
  The virtue informative rays round about,
  As, and as much as, in the living members.
And even as the air, when full of rain,
  By alien rays that are therein reflected,
  With divers colours shows itself adorned,
So there the neighbouring air doth shape itself
  Into that form which doth impress upon it
  Virtually the soul that has stood still.
And then in manner of the little flame,
  Which followeth the fire where'er it shifts,
  After the spirit followeth its new form.
Since afterwards it takes from this its semblance,
  It is called shade; and thence it organizes
  Thereafter every sense, even to the sight.
Thence is it that we speak, and thence we laugh;
  Thence is it that we form the tears and sighs,
  That on the mountain thou mayhap hast heard.
According as impress us our desires
  And other affections, so the shade is shaped,
  And this is cause of what thou wonderest at."
And now unto the last of all the circles
  Had we arrived, and to the right hand turned,
  And were attentive to another care.
There the embankment shoots forth flames of fire,
  And upward doth the cornice breathe a blast
  That drives them back, and from itself sequesters.
Hence we must needs go on the open side,
  And one by one; and I did fear the fire
  On this side, and on that the falling down.
My Leader said: "Along this place one ought
  To keep upon the eyes a tightened rein,
  Seeing that one so easily might err."
"Summae Deus clementiae," in the bosom
  Of the great burning chanted then I heard,
  Which made me no less eager to turn round;
And spirits saw I walking through the flame;
  Wherefore I looked, to my own steps and theirs
  Apportioning my sight from time to time.
After the close which to that hymn is made,
  Aloud they shouted, "Virum non cognosco;"
  Then recommenced the hymn with voices low.
This also ended, cried they: "To the wood
  Diana ran, and drove forth Helice
  Therefrom, who had of Venus felt the poison."
Then to their song returned they; then the wives
  They shouted, and the husbands who were chaste.
  As virtue and the marriage vow imposes.
And I believe that them this mode suffices,
  For all the time the fire is burning them;
  With such care is it needful, and such food,
That the last wound of all should be closed up.
Purgatorio: Canto XXVI
While on the brink thus one before the other
  We went upon our way, oft the good Master
  Said: "Take thou heed! suffice it that I warn thee."
On the right shoulder smote me now the sun,
  That, raying out, already the whole west
  Changed from its azure aspect into white.
And with my shadow did I make the flame
  Appear more red; and even to such a sign
  Shades saw I many, as they went, give heed.
This was the cause that gave them a beginning
  To speak of me; and to themselves began they
  To say: "That seems not a factitious body!"
Then towards me, as far as they could come,
  Came certain of them, always with regard
  Not to step forth where they would not be burned.
"O thou who goest, not from being slower
  But reverent perhaps, behind the others,
  Answer me, who in thirst and fire am burning.
Nor to me only is thine answer needful;
  For all of these have greater thirst for it
  Than for cold water Ethiop or Indian.
Tell us how is it that thou makest thyself
  A wall unto the sun, as if thou hadst not
  Entered as yet into the net of death."
Thus one of them addressed me, and I straight
  Should have revealed myself, were I not bent
  On other novelty that then appeared.
For through the middle of the burning road
  There came a people face to face with these,
  Which held me in suspense with gazing at them.
There see I hastening upon either side
  Each of the shades, and kissing one another
  Without a pause, content with brief salute.
Thus in the middle of their brown battalions
  Muzzle to muzzle one ant meets another
  Perchance to spy their journey or their fortune.
No sooner is the friendly greeting ended,
  Or ever the first footstep passes onward,
  Each one endeavours to outcry the other;
The new-come people: "Sodom and Gomorrah!"
  The rest: "Into the cow Pasiphae enters,
  So that the bull unto her lust may run!"
Then as the cranes, that to Riphaean mountains
  Might fly in part, and part towards the sands,
  These of the frost, those of the sun avoidant,
One folk is going, and the other coming,
  And weeping they return to their first songs,
  And to the cry that most befitteth them;
And close to me approached, even as before,
  The very same who had entreated me,
  Attent to listen in their countenance.
I, who their inclination twice had seen,
  Began: "O souls secure in the possession,
  Whene'er it may be, of a state of peace,
Neither unripe nor ripened have remained
  My members upon earth, but here are with me
  With their own blood and their articulations.
I go up here to be no longer blind;
  A Lady is above, who wins this grace,
  Whereby the mortal through your world I bring.
But as your greatest longing satisfied
  May soon become, so that the Heaven may house you
  Which full of love is, and most amply spreads,
Tell me, that I again in books may write it,
  Who are you, and what is that multitude
  Which goes upon its way behind your backs?"
Not otherwise with wonder is bewildered
  The mountaineer, and staring round is dumb,
  When rough and rustic to the town he goes,
Than every shade became in its appearance;
  But when they of their stupor were disburdened,
  Which in high hearts is quickly quieted,
"Blessed be thou, who of our border-lands,"
  He recommenced who first had questioned us,
  "Experience freightest for a better life.
The folk that comes not with us have offended
  In that for which once Caesar, triumphing,
  Heard himself called in contumely, 'Queen.'
Therefore they separate, exclaiming, 'Sodom!'
  Themselves reproving, even as thou hast heard,
  And add unto their burning by their shame.
Our own transgression was hermaphrodite;
  But because we observed not human law,
  Following like unto beasts our appetite,
In our opprobrium by us is read,
  When we part company, the name of her
  Who bestialized herself in bestial wood.
Now knowest thou our acts, and what our crime was;
  Wouldst thou perchance by name know who we are,
  There is not time to tell, nor could I do it.
Thy wish to know me shall in sooth be granted;
  I'm Guido Guinicelli, and now purge me,
  Having repented ere the hour extreme."
The same that in the sadness of Lycurgus
  Two sons became, their mother re-beholding,
  Such I became, but rise not to such height,
The moment I heard name himself the father
  Of me and of my betters, who had ever
  Practised the sweet and gracious rhymes of love;
And without speech and hearing thoughtfully
  For a long time I went, beholding him,
  Nor for the fire did I approach him nearer.
When I was fed with looking, utterly
  Myself I offered ready for his service,
  With affirmation that compels belief.
And he to me: "Thou leavest footprints such
  In me, from what I hear, and so distinct,
  Lethe cannot efface them, nor make dim.
But if thy words just now the truth have sworn,
  Tell me what is the cause why thou displayest
  In word and look that dear thou holdest me?"
And I to him: "Those dulcet lays of yours
  Which, long as shall endure our modern fashion,
  Shall make for ever dear their very ink!"
"O brother," said he, "he whom I point out,"
  And here he pointed at a spirit in front,
  "Was of the mother tongue a better smith.
Verses of love and proses of romance,
  He mastered all; and let the idiots talk,
  Who think the Lemosin surpasses him.
To clamour more than truth they turn their faces,
  And in this way establish their opinion,
  Ere art or reason has by them been heard.
Thus many ancients with Guittone did,
  From cry to cry still giving him applause,
  Until the truth has conquered with most persons.
Now, if thou hast such ample privilege
  'Tis granted thee to go unto the cloister
  Wherein is Christ the abbot of the college,
To him repeat for me a Paternoster,
  So far as needful to us of this world,
  Where power of sinning is no longer ours."
Then, to give place perchance to one behind,
  Whom he had near, he vanished in the fire
  As fish in water going to the bottom.
I moved a little tow'rds him pointed out,
  And said that to his name my own desire
  An honourable place was making ready.
He of his own free will began to say:
  'Tan m' abellis vostre cortes deman,
  Que jeu nom' puesc ni vueill a vos cobrire;
Jeu sui Arnaut, que plor e vai chantan;
  Consiros vei la passada folor,
  E vei jauzen lo jorn qu' esper denan.
Ara vus prec per aquella valor,
  Que vus condus al som de la scalina,
  Sovenga vus a temprar ma dolor.'*
Then hid him in the fire that purifies them.
* So pleases me your courteous demand,
  I cannot and I will not hide me from you.
I am Arnaut, who weep and singing go;
  Contrite I see the folly of the past,
  And joyous see the hoped-for day before me.
Therefore do I implore you, by that power
  Which guides you to the summit of the stairs,
  Be mindful to assuage my suffering!
Purgatorio: Canto XXVII
As when he vibrates forth his earliest rays,
  In regions where his Maker shed his blood,
  (The Ebro falling under lofty Libra,
And waters in the Ganges burnt with noon,)
  So stood the Sun; hence was the day departing,
  When the glad Angel of God appeared to us.
Outside the flame he stood upon the verge,
  And chanted forth, "Beati mundo corde,"
  In voice by far more living than our own.
Then: "No one farther goes, souls sanctified,
  If first the fire bite not; within it enter,
  And be not deaf unto the song beyond."
When we were close beside him thus he said;
  Wherefore e'en such became I, when I heard him,
  As he is who is put into the grave.
Upon my clasped hands I straightened me,
  Scanning the fire, and vividly recalling
  The human bodies I had once seen burned.
Towards me turned themselves my good Conductors,
  And unto me Virgilius said: "My son,
  Here may indeed be torment, but not death.
Remember thee, remember! and if I
  On Geryon have safely guided thee,
  What shall I do now I am nearer God?
Believe for certain, shouldst thou stand a full
  Millennium in the bosom of this flame,
  It could not make thee bald a single hair.
And if perchance thou think that I deceive thee,
  Draw near to it, and put it to the proof
  With thine own hands upon thy garment's hem.
Now lay aside, now lay aside all fear,
  Turn hitherward, and onward come securely;"
  And I still motionless, and 'gainst my conscience!
Seeing me stand still motionless and stubborn,
  Somewhat disturbed he said: "Now look thou, Son,
  'Twixt Beatrice and thee there is this wall."
As at the name of Thisbe oped his lids
  The dying Pyramus, and gazed upon her,
  What time the mulberry became vermilion,
Even thus, my obduracy being softened,
  I turned to my wise Guide, hearing the name
  That in my memory evermore is welling.
Whereat he wagged his head, and said: "How now?
  Shall we stay on this side?" then smiled as one
  Does at a child who's vanquished by an apple.
Then into the fire in front of me he entered,
  Beseeching Statius to come after me,
  Who a long way before divided us.
When I was in it, into molten glass
  I would have cast me to refresh myself,
  So without measure was the burning there!
And my sweet Father, to encourage me,
  Discoursing still of Beatrice went on,
  Saying: "Her eyes I seem to see already!"
A voice, that on the other side was singing,
  Directed us, and we, attent alone
  On that, came forth where the ascent began.
"Venite, benedicti Patris mei,"
  Sounded within a splendour, which was there
  Such it o'ercame me, and I could not look.
"The sun departs," it added, "and night cometh;
  Tarry ye not, but onward urge your steps,
  So long as yet the west becomes not dark."
Straight forward through the rock the path ascended
  In such a way that I cut off the rays
  Before me of the sun, that now was low.
And of few stairs we yet had made assay,
  Ere by the vanished shadow the sun's setting
  Behind us we perceived, I and my Sages.
And ere in all its parts immeasurable
  The horizon of one aspect had become,
  And Night her boundless dispensation held,
Each of us of a stair had made his bed;
  Because the nature of the mount took from us
  The power of climbing, more than the delight.
Even as in ruminating passive grow
  The goats, who have been swift and venturesome
  Upon the mountain-tops ere they were fed,
Hushed in the shadow, while the sun is hot,
  Watched by the herdsman, who upon his staff
  Is leaning, and in leaning tendeth them;
And as the shepherd, lodging out of doors,
  Passes the night beside his quiet flock,
  Watching that no wild beast may scatter it,
Such at that hour were we, all three of us,
  I like the goat, and like the herdsmen they,
  Begirt on this side and on that by rocks.
Little could there be seen of things without;
  But through that little I beheld the stars
  More luminous and larger than their wont.
Thus ruminating, and beholding these,
  Sleep seized upon me,--sleep, that oftentimes
  Before a deed is done has tidings of it.
It was the hour, I think, when from the East
  First on the mountain Citherea beamed,
  Who with the fire of love seems always burning;
Youthful and beautiful in dreams methought
  I saw a lady walking in a meadow,
  Gathering flowers; and singing she was saying:
"Know whosoever may my name demand
  That I am Leah, and go moving round
  My beauteous hands to make myself a garland.
To please me at the mirror, here I deck me,
  But never does my sister Rachel leave
  Her looking-glass, and sitteth all day long.
To see her beauteous eyes as eager is she,
  As I am to adorn me with my hands;
  Her, seeing, and me, doing satisfies."
And now before the antelucan splendours
  That unto pilgrims the more grateful rise,
  As, home-returning, less remote they lodge,
The darkness fled away on every side,
  And slumber with it; whereupon I rose,
  Seeing already the great Masters risen.
"That apple sweet, which through so many branches
  The care of mortals goeth in pursuit of,
  To-day shall put in peace thy hungerings."
Speaking to me, Virgilius of such words
  As these made use; and never were there guerdons
  That could in pleasantness compare with these.
Such longing upon longing came upon me
  To be above, that at each step thereafter
  For flight I felt in me the pinions growing.
When underneath us was the stairway all
  Run o'er, and we were on the highest step,
  Virgilius fastened upon me his eyes,
And said: "The temporal fire and the eternal,
  Son, thou hast seen, and to a place art come
  Where of myself no farther I discern.
By intellect and art I here have brought thee;
  Take thine own pleasure for thy guide henceforth;
  Beyond the steep ways and the narrow art thou.
Behold the sun, that shines upon thy forehead;
  Behold the grass, the flowerets, and the shrubs
  Which of itself alone this land produces.
Until rejoicing come the beauteous eyes
  Which weeping caused me to come unto thee,
  Thou canst sit down, and thou canst walk among them.
Expect no more or word or sign from me;
  Free and upright and sound is thy free-will,
  And error were it not to do its bidding;
Thee o'er thyself I therefore crown and mitre!"
Purgatorio: Canto XXVIII
Eager already to search in and round
  The heavenly forest, dense and living-green,
  Which tempered to the eyes the new-born day,
Withouten more delay I left the bank,
  Taking the level country slowly, slowly
  Over the soil that everywhere breathes fragrance.
A softly-breathing air, that no mutation
  Had in itself, upon the forehead smote me
  No heavier blow than of a gentle wind,
Whereat the branches, lightly tremulous,
  Did all of them bow downward toward that side
  Where its first shadow casts the Holy Mountain;
Yet not from their upright direction swayed,
  So that the little birds upon their tops
  Should leave the practice of each art of theirs;
But with full ravishment the hours of prime,
  Singing, received they in the midst of leaves,
  That ever bore a burden to their rhymes,
Such as from branch to branch goes gathering on
  Through the pine forest on the shore of Chiassi,
  When Eolus unlooses the Sirocco.
Already my slow steps had carried me
  Into the ancient wood so far, that I
  Could not perceive where I had entered it.
And lo! my further course a stream cut off,
  Which tow'rd the left hand with its little waves
  Bent down the grass that on its margin sprang.
All waters that on earth most limpid are
  Would seem to have within themselves some mixture
  Compared with that which nothing doth conceal,
Although it moves on with a brown, brown current
  Under the shade perpetual, that never
  Ray of the sun lets in, nor of the moon.
With feet I stayed, and with mine eyes I passed
  Beyond the rivulet, to look upon
  The great variety of the fresh may.
And there appeared to me (even as appears
  Suddenly something that doth turn aside
  Through very wonder every other thought)
A lady all alone, who went along
  Singing and culling floweret after floweret,
  With which her pathway was all painted over.
"Ah, beauteous lady, who in rays of love
  Dost warm thyself, if I may trust to looks,
  Which the heart's witnesses are wont to be,
May the desire come unto thee to draw
  Near to this river's bank," I said to her,
  "So much that I might hear what thou art singing.
Thou makest me remember where and what
  Proserpina that moment was when lost
  Her mother her, and she herself the Spring."
As turns herself, with feet together pressed
  And to the ground, a lady who is dancing,
  And hardly puts one foot before the other,
On the vermilion and the yellow flowerets
  She turned towards me, not in other wise
  Than maiden who her modest eyes casts down;
And my entreaties made to be content,
  So near approaching, that the dulcet sound
  Came unto me together with its meaning
As soon as she was where the grasses are.
  Bathed by the waters of the beauteous river,
  To lift her eyes she granted me the boon.
I do not think there shone so great a light
  Under the lids of Venus, when transfixed
  By her own son, beyond his usual custom!
Erect upon the other bank she smiled,
  Bearing full many colours in her hands,
  Which that high land produces without seed.
Apart three paces did the river make us;
  But Hellespont, where Xerxes passed across,
  (A curb still to all human arrogance,)
More hatred from Leander did not suffer
  For rolling between Sestos and Abydos,
  Than that from me, because it oped not then.
"Ye are new-comers; and because I smile,"
  Began she, "peradventure, in this place
  Elect to human nature for its nest,
Some apprehension keeps you marvelling;
  But the psalm 'Delectasti' giveth light
  Which has the power to uncloud your intellect.
And thou who foremost art, and didst entreat me,
  Speak, if thou wouldst hear more; for I came ready
  To all thy questionings, as far as needful."
"The water," said I, "and the forest's sound,
  Are combating within me my new faith
  In something which I heard opposed to this."
Whence she: "I will relate how from its cause
  Proceedeth that which maketh thee to wonder,
  And purge away the cloud that smites upon thee.
The Good Supreme, sole in itself delighting,
  Created man good, and this goodly place
  Gave him as hansel of eternal peace.
By his default short while he sojourned here;
  By his default to weeping and to toil
  He changed his innocent laughter and sweet play.
That the disturbance which below is made
  By exhalations of the land and water,
  (Which far as may be follow after heat,)
Might not upon mankind wage any war,
  This mount ascended tow'rds the heaven so high,
  And is exempt, from there where it is locked.
Now since the universal atmosphere
  Turns in a circuit with the primal motion
  Unless the circle is broken on some side,
Upon this height, that all is disengaged
  In living ether, doth this motion strike
  And make the forest sound, for it is dense;
And so much power the stricken plant possesses
  That with its virtue it impregns the air,
  And this, revolving, scatters it around;
And yonder earth, according as 'tis worthy
  In self or in its clime, conceives and bears
  Of divers qualities the divers trees;
It should not seem a marvel then on earth,
  This being heard, whenever any plant
  Without seed manifest there taketh root.
And thou must know, this holy table-land
  In which thou art is full of every seed,
  And fruit has in it never gathered there.
The water which thou seest springs not from vein
  Restored by vapour that the cold condenses,
  Like to a stream that gains or loses breath;
But issues from a fountain safe and certain,
  Which by the will of God as much regains
  As it discharges, open on two sides.
Upon this side with virtue it descends,
  Which takes away all memory of sin;
  On that, of every good deed done restores it.
Here Lethe, as upon the other side
  Eunoe, it is called; and worketh not
  If first on either side it be not tasted.
This every other savour doth transcend;
  And notwithstanding slaked so far may be
  Thy thirst, that I reveal to thee no more,
I'll give thee a corollary still in grace,
  Nor think my speech will be to thee less dear
  If it spread out beyond my promise to thee.
Those who in ancient times have feigned in song
  The Age of Gold and its felicity,
  Dreamed of this place perhaps upon Parnassus.
Here was the human race in innocence;
  Here evermore was Spring, and every fruit;
  This is the nectar of which each one speaks."
Then backward did I turn me wholly round
  Unto my Poets, and saw that with a smile
  They had been listening to these closing words;
Then to the beautiful lady turned mine eyes.
Purgatorio: Canto XXIX
Singing like unto an enamoured lady
  She, with the ending of her words, continued:
  "Beati quorum tecta sunt peccata."
And even as Nymphs, that wandered all alone
  Among the sylvan shadows, sedulous
  One to avoid and one to see the sun,
She then against the stream moved onward, going
  Along the bank, and I abreast of her,
  Her little steps with little steps attending.
Between her steps and mine were not a hundred,
  When equally the margins gave a turn,
  In such a way, that to the East I faced.
Nor even thus our way continued far
  Before the lady wholly turned herself
  Unto me, saying, "Brother, look and listen!"
And lo! a sudden lustre ran across
  On every side athwart the spacious forest,
  Such that it made me doubt if it were lightning.
But since the lightning ceases as it comes,
  And that continuing brightened more and more,
  Within my thought I said, "What thing is this?"
And a delicious melody there ran
  Along the luminous air, whence holy zeal
  Made me rebuke the hardihood of Eve;
For there where earth and heaven obedient were,
  The woman only, and but just created,
  Could not endure to stay 'neath any veil;
Underneath which had she devoutly stayed,
  I sooner should have tasted those delights
  Ineffable, and for a longer time.
While 'mid such manifold first-fruits I walked
  Of the eternal pleasure all enrapt,
  And still solicitous of more delights,
In front of us like an enkindled fire
  Became the air beneath the verdant boughs,
  And the sweet sound as singing now was heard.
O Virgins sacrosanct! if ever hunger,
  Vigils, or cold for you I have endured,
  The occasion spurs me their reward to claim!
Now Helicon must needs pour forth for me,
  And with her choir Urania must assist me,
  To put in verse things difficult to think.
A little farther on, seven trees of gold
  In semblance the long space still intervening
  Between ourselves and them did counterfeit;
But when I had approached so near to them
  The common object, which the sense deceives,
  Lost not by distance any of its marks,
The faculty that lends discourse to reason
  Did apprehend that they were candlesticks,
  And in the voices of the song "Hosanna!"
Above them flamed the harness beautiful,
  Far brighter than the moon in the serene
  Of midnight, at the middle of her month.
I turned me round, with admiration filled,
  To good Virgilius, and he answered me
  With visage no less full of wonderment.
Then back I turned my face to those high things,
  Which moved themselves towards us so sedately,
  They had been distanced by new-wedded brides.
The lady chid me: "Why dost thou burn only
  So with affection for the living lights,
  And dost not look at what comes after them?"
Then saw I people, as behind their leaders,
  Coming behind them, garmented in white,
  And such a whiteness never was on earth.
The water on my left flank was resplendent,
  And back to me reflected my left side,
  E'en as a mirror, if I looked therein.
When I upon my margin had such post
  That nothing but the stream divided us,
  Better to see I gave my steps repose;
And I beheld the flamelets onward go,
  Leaving behind themselves the air depicted,
  And they of trailing pennons had the semblance,
So that it overhead remained distinct
  With sevenfold lists, all of them of the colours
  Whence the sun's bow is made, and Delia's girdle.
These standards to the rearward longer were
  Than was my sight; and, as it seemed to me,
  Ten paces were the outermost apart.
Under so fair a heaven as I describe
  The four and twenty Elders, two by two,
  Came on incoronate with flower-de-luce.
They all of them were singing: "Blessed thou
  Among the daughters of Adam art, and blessed
  For evermore shall be thy loveliness."
After the flowers and other tender grasses
  In front of me upon the other margin
  Were disencumbered of that race elect,
Even as in heaven star followeth after star,
  There came close after them four animals,
  Incoronate each one with verdant leaf.
Plumed with six wings was every one of them,
  The plumage full of eyes; the eyes of Argus
  If they were living would be such as these.
Reader! to trace their forms no more I waste
  My rhymes; for other spendings press me so,
  That I in this cannot be prodigal.
But read Ezekiel, who depicteth them
  As he beheld them from the region cold
  Coming with cloud, with whirlwind, and with fire;
And such as thou shalt find them in his pages,
  Such were they here; saving that in their plumage
  John is with me, and differeth from him.
The interval between these four contained
  A chariot triumphal on two wheels,
  Which by a Griffin's neck came drawn along;
And upward he extended both his wings
  Between the middle list and three and three,
  So that he injured none by cleaving it.
So high they rose that they were lost to sight;
  His limbs were gold, so far as he was bird,
  And white the others with vermilion mingled.
Not only Rome with no such splendid car
  E'er gladdened Africanus, or Augustus,
  But poor to it that of the Sun would be,--
That of the Sun, which swerving was burnt up
  At the importunate orison of Earth,
  When Jove was so mysteriously just.
Three maidens at the right wheel in a circle
  Came onward dancing; one so very red
  That in the fire she hardly had been noted.
The second was as if her flesh and bones
  Had all been fashioned out of emerald;
  The third appeared as snow but newly fallen.
And now they seemed conducted by the white,
  Now by the red, and from the song of her
  The others took their step, or slow or swift.
Upon the left hand four made holiday
  Vested in purple, following the measure
  Of one of them with three eyes m her head.
In rear of all the group here treated of
  Two old men I beheld, unlike in habit,
  But like in gait, each dignified and grave.
One showed himself as one of the disciples
  Of that supreme Hippocrates, whom nature
  Made for the animals she holds most dear;
Contrary care the other manifested,
  With sword so shining and so sharp, it caused
  Terror to me on this side of the river.
Thereafter four I saw of humble aspect,
  And behind all an aged man alone
  Walking in sleep with countenance acute.
And like the foremost company these seven
  Were habited; yet of the flower-de-luce
  No garland round about the head they wore,
But of the rose, and other flowers vermilion;
  At little distance would the sight have sworn
  That all were in a flame above their brows.
And when the car was opposite to me
  Thunder was heard; and all that folk august
  Seemed to have further progress interdicted,
There with the vanward ensigns standing still.
Purgatorio: Canto XXX
When the Septentrion of the highest heaven
  (Which never either setting knew or rising,
  Nor veil of other cloud than that of sin,
And which made every one therein aware
  Of his own duty, as the lower makes
  Whoever turns the helm to come to port)
Motionless halted, the veracious people,
  That came at first between it and the Griffin,
  Turned themselves to the car, as to their peace.
And one of them, as if by Heaven commissioned,
  Singing, "Veni, sponsa, de Libano"
  Shouted three times, and all the others after.
Even as the Blessed at the final summons
  Shall rise up quickened each one from his cavern,
  Uplifting light the reinvested flesh,
So upon that celestial chariot
  A hundred rose 'ad vocem tanti senis,'
  Ministers and messengers of life eternal.
They all were saying, "Benedictus qui venis,"
  And, scattering flowers above and round about,
  "Manibus o date lilia plenis."
Ere now have I beheld, as day began,
  The eastern hemisphere all tinged with rose,
  And the other heaven with fair serene adorned;
And the sun's face, uprising, overshadowed
  So that by tempering influence of vapours
  For a long interval the eye sustained it;
Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers
  Which from those hands angelical ascended,
  And downward fell again inside and out,
Over her snow-white veil with olive cinct
  Appeared a lady under a green mantle,
  Vested in colour of the living flame.
And my own spirit, that already now
  So long a time had been, that in her presence
  Trembling with awe it had not stood abashed,
Without more knowledge having by mine eyes,
  Through occult virtue that from her proceeded
  Of ancient love the mighty influence felt.
As soon as on my vision smote the power
  Sublime, that had already pierced me through
  Ere from my boyhood I had yet come forth,
To the left hand I turned with that reliance
  With which the little child runs to his mother,
  When he has fear, or when he is afflicted,
To say unto Virgilius: "Not a drachm
  Of blood remains in me, that does not tremble;
  I know the traces of the ancient flame."
But us Virgilius of himself deprived
  Had left, Virgilius, sweetest of all fathers,
  Virgilius, to whom I for safety gave me:
Nor whatsoever lost the ancient mother
  Availed my cheeks now purified from dew,
  That weeping they should not again be darkened.
"Dante, because Virgilius has departed
  Do not weep yet, do not weep yet awhile;
  For by another sword thou need'st must weep."
E'en as an admiral, who on poop and prow
  Comes to behold the people that are working
  In other ships, and cheers them to well-doing,
Upon the left hand border of the car,
  When at the sound I turned of my own name,
  Which of necessity is here recorded,
I saw the Lady, who erewhile appeared
  Veiled underneath the angelic festival,
  Direct her eyes to me across the river.
Although the veil, that from her head descended,
  Encircled with the foliage of Minerva,
  Did not permit her to appear distinctly,
In attitude still royally majestic
  Continued she, like unto one who speaks,
  And keeps his warmest utterance in reserve:
"Look at me well; in sooth I'm Beatrice!
  How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain?
  Didst thou not know that man is happy here?"
Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain,
  But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass,
  So great a shame did weigh my forehead down.
As to the son the mother seems superb,
  So she appeared to me; for somewhat bitter
  Tasteth the savour of severe compassion.
Silent became she, and the Angels sang
  Suddenly, "In te, Domine, speravi:"
  But beyond 'pedes meos' did not pass.
Even as the snow among the living rafters
  Upon the back of Italy congeals,
  Blown on and drifted by Sclavonian winds,
And then, dissolving, trickles through itself
  Whene'er the land that loses shadow breathes,
  So that it seems a fire that melts a taper;
E'en thus was I without a tear or sigh,
  Before the song of those who sing for ever
  After the music of the eternal spheres.
But when I heard in their sweet melodies
  Compassion for me, more than had they said,
  "O wherefore, lady, dost thou thus upbraid him?"
The ice, that was about my heart congealed,
  To air and water changed, and in my anguish
  Through mouth and eyes came gushing from my breast.
She, on the right-hand border of the car
  Still firmly standing, to those holy beings
  Thus her discourse directed afterwards:
"Ye keep your watch in the eternal day,
  So that nor night nor sleep can steal from you
  One step the ages make upon their path;
Therefore my answer is with greater care,
  That he may hear me who is weeping yonder,
  So that the sin and dole be of one measure.
Not only by the work of those great wheels,
  That destine every seed unto some end,
  According as the stars are in conjunction,
But by the largess of celestial graces,
  Which have such lofty vapours for their rain
  That near to them our sight approaches not,
Such had this man become in his new life
  Potentially, that every righteous habit
  Would have made admirable proof in him;
But so much more malignant and more savage
  Becomes the land untilled and with bad seed,
  The more good earthly vigour it possesses.
Some time did I sustain him with my look;
  Revealing unto him my youthful eyes,
  I led him with me turned in the right way.
As soon as ever of my second age
  I was upon the threshold and changed life,
  Himself from me he took and gave to others.
When from the flesh to spirit I ascended,
  And beauty and virtue were in me increased,
  I was to him less dear and less delightful;
And into ways untrue he turned his steps,
  Pursuing the false images of good,
  That never any promises fulfil;
Nor prayer for inspiration me availed,
  By means of which in dreams and otherwise
  I called him back, so little did he heed them.
So low he fell, that all appliances
  For his salvation were already short,
  Save showing him the people of perdition.
For this I visited the gates of death,
  And unto him, who so far up has led him,
  My intercessions were with weeping borne.
God's lofty fiat would be violated,
  If Lethe should be passed, and if such viands
  Should tasted be, withouten any scot
Of penitence, that gushes forth in tears."
Purgatorio: Canto XXXI
"O thou who art beyond the sacred river,"
  Turning to me the point of her discourse,
  That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen,
She recommenced, continuing without pause,
  "Say, say if this be true; to such a charge,
  Thy own confession needs must be conjoined."
My faculties were in so great confusion,
  That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct
  Than by its organs it was set at large.
Awhile she waited; then she said: "What thinkest?
  Answer me; for the mournful memories
  In thee not yet are by the waters injured."
Confusion and dismay together mingled
  Forced such a Yes! from out my mouth, that sight
  Was needful to the understanding of it.
Even as a cross-bow breaks, when 'tis discharged
  Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow,
  And with less force the arrow hits the mark,
So I gave way beneath that heavy burden,
  Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs,
  And the voice flagged upon its passage forth.
Whence she to me: "In those desires of mine
  Which led thee to the loving of that good,
  Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to,
What trenches lying traverse or what chains
  Didst thou discover, that of passing onward
  Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope?
And what allurements or what vantages
  Upon the forehead of the others showed,
  That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them?"
After the heaving of a bitter sigh,
  Hardly had I the voice to make response,
  And with fatigue my lips did fashion it.
Weeping I said: "The things that present were
  With their false pleasure turned aside my steps,
  Soon as your countenance concealed itself."
And she: "Shouldst thou be silent, or deny
  What thou confessest, not less manifest
  Would be thy fault, by such a Judge 'tis known.
But when from one's own cheeks comes bursting forth
  The accusal of the sin, in our tribunal
  Against the edge the wheel doth turn itself.
But still, that thou mayst feel a greater shame
  For thy transgression, and another time
  Hearing the Sirens thou mayst be more strong,
Cast down the seed of weeping and attend;
  So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way
  My buried flesh should have directed thee.
Never to thee presented art or nature
  Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein
  I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth.
And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee
  By reason of my death, what mortal thing
  Should then have drawn thee into its desire?
Thou oughtest verily at the first shaft
  Of things fallacious to have risen up
  To follow me, who was no longer such.
Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward
  To wait for further blows, or little girl,
  Or other vanity of such brief use.
The callow birdlet waits for two or three,
  But to the eyes of those already fledged,
  In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot."
Even as children silent in their shame
  Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground,
  And conscious of their fault, and penitent;
So was I standing; and she said: "If thou
  In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard
  And thou shalt feel a greater pain in seeing."
With less resistance is a robust holm
  Uprooted, either by a native wind
  Or else by that from regions of Iarbas,
Than I upraised at her command my chin;
  And when she by the beard the face demanded,
  Well I perceived the venom of her meaning.
And as my countenance was lifted up,
  Mine eye perceived those creatures beautiful
  Had rested from the strewing of the flowers;
And, still but little reassured, mine eyes
  Saw Beatrice turned round towards the monster,
  That is one person only in two natures.
Beneath her veil, beyond the margent green,
  She seemed to me far more her ancient self
  To excel, than others here, when she was here.
So pricked me then the thorn of penitence,
  That of all other things the one which turned me
  Most to its love became the most my foe.
Such self-conviction stung me at the heart
  O'erpowered I fell, and what I then became
  She knoweth who had furnished me the cause.
Then, when the heart restored my outward sense,
  The lady I had found alone, above me
  I saw, and she was saying, "Hold me, hold me."
Up to my throat she in the stream had drawn me,
  And, dragging me behind her, she was moving
  Upon the water lightly as a shuttle.
When I was near unto the blessed shore,
  "Asperges me," I heard so sweetly sung,
  Remember it I cannot, much less write it.
The beautiful lady opened wide her arms,
  Embraced my head, and plunged me underneath,
  Where I was forced to swallow of the water.
Then forth she drew me, and all dripping brought
  Into the dance of the four beautiful,
  And each one with her arm did cover me.
'We here are Nymphs, and in the Heaven are stars;
  Ere Beatrice descended to the world,
  We as her handmaids were appointed her.
We'll lead thee to her eyes; but for the pleasant
  Light that within them is, shall sharpen thine
  The three beyond, who more profoundly look.'
Thus singing they began; and afterwards
  Unto the Griffin's breast they led me with them,
  Where Beatrice was standing, turned towards us.
"See that thou dost not spare thine eyes," they said;
  "Before the emeralds have we stationed thee,
  Whence Love aforetime drew for thee his weapons."
A thousand longings, hotter than the flame,
  Fastened mine eyes upon those eyes relucent,
  That still upon the Griffin steadfast stayed.
As in a glass the sun, not otherwise
  Within them was the twofold monster shining,
  Now with the one, now with the other nature.
Think, Reader, if within myself I marvelled,
  When I beheld the thing itself stand still,
  And in its image it transformed itself.
While with amazement filled and jubilant,
  My soul was tasting of the food, that while
  It satisfies us makes us hunger for it,
Themselves revealing of the highest rank
  In bearing, did the other three advance,
  Singing to their angelic saraband.
"Turn, Beatrice, O turn thy holy eyes,"
  Such was their song, "unto thy faithful one,
  Who has to see thee ta'en so many steps.
In grace do us the grace that thou unveil
  Thy face to him, so that he may discern
  The second beauty which thou dost conceal."
O splendour of the living light eternal!
  Who underneath the shadow of Parnassus
  Has grown so pale, or drunk so at its cistern,
He would not seem to have his mind encumbered
  Striving to paint thee as thou didst appear,
  Where the harmonious heaven o'ershadowed thee,
When in the open air thou didst unveil?
Purgatorio: Canto XXXII
So steadfast and attentive were mine eyes
  In satisfying their decennial thirst,
  That all my other senses were extinct,
And upon this side and on that they had
  Walls of indifference, so the holy smile
  Drew them unto itself with the old net
When forcibly my sight was turned away
  Towards my left hand by those goddesses,
  Because I heard from them a "Too intently!"
And that condition of the sight which is
  In eyes but lately smitten by the sun
  Bereft me of my vision some short while;
But to the less when sight re-shaped itself,
  I say the less in reference to the greater
  Splendour from which perforce I had withdrawn,
I saw upon its right wing wheeled about
  The glorious host returning with the sun
  And with the sevenfold flames upon their faces.
As underneath its shields, to save itself,
  A squadron turns, and with its banner wheels,
  Before the whole thereof can change its front,
That soldiery of the celestial kingdom
  Which marched in the advance had wholly passed us
  Before the chariot had turned its pole.
Then to the wheels the maidens turned themselves,
  And the Griffin moved his burden benedight,
  But so that not a feather of him fluttered.
The lady fair who drew me through the ford
  Followed with Statius and myself the wheel
  Which made its orbit with the lesser arc.
So passing through the lofty forest, vacant
  By fault of her who in the serpent trusted,
  Angelic music made our steps keep time.
Perchance as great a space had in three flights
  An arrow loosened from the string o'erpassed,
  As we had moved when Beatrice descended.
I heard them murmur altogether, "Adam!"
  Then circled they about a tree despoiled
  Of blooms and other leafage on each bough.
Its tresses, which so much the more dilate
  As higher they ascend, had been by Indians
  Among their forests marvelled at for height.
"Blessed art thou, O Griffin, who dost not
  Pluck with thy beak these branches sweet to taste,
  Since appetite by this was turned to evil."
After this fashion round the tree robust
  The others shouted; and the twofold creature:
  "Thus is preserved the seed of all the just."
And turning to the pole which he had dragged,
  He drew it close beneath the widowed bough,
  And what was of it unto it left bound.
In the same manner as our trees (when downward
  Falls the great light, with that together mingled
  Which after the celestial Lasca shines)
Begin to swell, and then renew themselves,
  Each one with its own colour, ere the Sun
  Harness his steeds beneath another star:
Less than of rose and more than violet
  A hue disclosing, was renewed the tree
  That had erewhile its boughs so desolate.
I never heard, nor here below is sung,
  The hymn which afterward that people sang,
  Nor did I bear the melody throughout.
Had I the power to paint how fell asleep
  Those eyes compassionless, of Syrinx hearing,
  Those eyes to which more watching cost so dear,
Even as a painter who from model paints
  I would portray how I was lulled asleep;
  He may, who well can picture drowsihood.
Therefore I pass to what time I awoke,
  And say a splendour rent from me the veil
  Of slumber, and a calling: "Rise, what dost thou?"
As to behold the apple-tree in blossom
  Which makes the Angels greedy for its fruit,
  And keeps perpetual bridals in the Heaven,
Peter and John and James conducted were,
  And, overcome, recovered at the word
  By which still greater slumbers have been broken,
And saw their school diminished by the loss
  Not only of Elias, but of Moses,
  And the apparel of their Master changed;
So I revived, and saw that piteous one
  Above me standing, who had been conductress
  Aforetime of my steps beside the river,
And all in doubt I said, "Where's Beatrice?"
  And she: "Behold her seated underneath
  The leafage new, upon the root of it.
Behold the company that circles her;
  The rest behind the Griffin are ascending
  With more melodious song, and more profound."
And if her speech were more diffuse I know not,
  Because already in my sight was she
  Who from the hearing of aught else had shut me.
Alone she sat upon the very earth,
  Left there as guardian of the chariot
  Which I had seen the biform monster fasten.
Encircling her, a cloister made themselves
  The seven Nymphs, with those lights in their hands
  Which are secure from Aquilon and Auster.
"Short while shalt thou be here a forester,
  And thou shalt be with me for evermore
  A citizen of that Rome where Christ is Roman.
Therefore, for that world's good which liveth ill,
  Fix on the car thine eyes, and what thou seest,
  Having returned to earth, take heed thou write."
Thus Beatrice; and I, who at the feet
  Of her commandments all devoted was,
  My mind and eyes directed where she willed.
Never descended with so swift a motion
  Fire from a heavy cloud, when it is raining
  From out the region which is most remote,
As I beheld the bird of Jove descend
  Down through the tree, rending away the bark,
  As well as blossoms and the foliage new,
And he with all his might the chariot smote,
  Whereat it reeled, like vessel in a tempest
  Tossed by the waves, now starboard and now larboard.
Thereafter saw I leap into the body
  Of the triumphal vehicle a Fox,
  That seemed unfed with any wholesome food.
But for his hideous sins upbraiding him,
  My Lady put him to as swift a flight
  As such a fleshless skeleton could bear.
Then by the way that it before had come,
  Into the chariot's chest I saw the Eagle
  Descend, and leave it feathered with his plumes.
And such as issues from a heart that mourns,
  A voice from Heaven there issued, and it said:
  "My little bark, how badly art thou freighted!"
Methought, then, that the earth did yawn between
  Both wheels, and I saw rise from it a Dragon,
  Who through the chariot upward fixed his tail,
And as a wasp that draweth back its sting,
  Drawing unto himself his tail malign,
  Drew out the floor, and went his way rejoicing.
That which remained behind, even as with grass
  A fertile region, with the feathers, offered
  Perhaps with pure intention and benign,
Reclothed itself, and with them were reclothed
  The pole and both the wheels so speedily,
  A sigh doth longer keep the lips apart.
Transfigured thus the holy edifice
  Thrust forward heads upon the parts of it,
  Three on the pole and one at either corner.
The first were horned like oxen; but the four
  Had but a single horn upon the forehead;
  A monster such had never yet been seen!
Firm as a rock upon a mountain high,
  Seated upon it, there appeared to me
  A shameless whore, with eyes swift glancing round,
And, as if not to have her taken from him,
  Upright beside her I beheld a giant;
  And ever and anon they kissed each other.
But because she her wanton, roving eye
  Turned upon me, her angry paramour
  Did scourge her from her head unto her feet.
Then full of jealousy, and fierce with wrath,
  He loosed the monster, and across the forest
  Dragged it so far, he made of that alone
A shield unto the whore and the strange beast.
Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII
"Deus venerunt gentes," alternating
  Now three, now four, melodious psalmody
  The maidens in the midst of tears began;
And Beatrice, compassionate and sighing,
  Listened to them with such a countenance,
  That scarce more changed was Mary at the cross.
But when the other virgins place had given
  For her to speak, uprisen to her feet
  With colour as of fire, she made response:
"'Modicum, et non videbitis me;
  Et iterum,' my sisters predilect,
  'Modicum, et vos videbitis me.'"
Then all the seven in front of her she placed;
  And after her, by beckoning only, moved
  Me and the lady and the sage who stayed.
So she moved onward; and I do not think
  That her tenth step was placed upon the ground,
  When with her eyes upon mine eyes she smote,
And with a tranquil aspect, "Come more quickly,"
  To me she said, "that, if I speak with thee,
  To listen to me thou mayst be well placed."
As soon as I was with her as I should be,
  She said to me: "Why, brother, dost thou not
  Venture to question now, in coming with me?"
As unto those who are too reverential,
  Speaking in presence of superiors,
  Who drag no living utterance to their teeth,
It me befell, that without perfect sound
  Began I: "My necessity, Madonna,
  You know, and that which thereunto is good."
And she to me: "Of fear and bashfulness
  Henceforward I will have thee strip thyself,
  So that thou speak no more as one who dreams.
Know that the vessel which the serpent broke
  Was, and is not; but let him who is guilty
  Think that God's vengeance does not fear a sop.
Without an heir shall not for ever be
  The Eagle that left his plumes upon the car,
  Whence it became a monster, then a prey;
For verily I see, and hence narrate it,
  The stars already near to bring the time,
  From every hindrance safe, and every bar,
Within which a Five-hundred, Ten, and Five,
  One sent from God, shall slay the thievish woman
  And that same giant who is sinning with her.
And peradventure my dark utterance,
  Like Themis and the Sphinx, may less persuade thee,
  Since, in their mode, it clouds the intellect;
But soon the facts shall be the Naiades
  Who shall this difficult enigma solve,
  Without destruction of the flocks and harvests.
Note thou; and even as by me are uttered
  These words, so teach them unto those who live
  That life which is a running unto death;
And bear in mind, whene'er thou writest them,
  Not to conceal what thou hast seen the plant,
  That twice already has been pillaged here.
Whoever pillages or shatters it,
  With blasphemy of deed offendeth God,
  Who made it holy for his use alone.
For biting that, in pain and in desire
  Five thousand years and more the first-born soul
  Craved Him, who punished in himself the bite.
Thy genius slumbers, if it deem it not
  For special reason so pre-eminent
  In height, and so inverted in its summit.
And if thy vain imaginings had not been
  Water of Elsa round about thy mind,
  And Pyramus to the mulberry, their pleasure,
Thou by so many circumstances only
  The justice of the interdict of God
  Morally in the tree wouldst recognize.
But since I see thee in thine intellect
  Converted into stone and stained with sin,
  So that the light of my discourse doth daze thee,
I will too, if not written, at least painted,
  Thou bear it back within thee, for the reason
  That cinct with palm the pilgrim's staff is borne."
And I: "As by a signet is the wax
  Which does not change the figure stamped upon it,
  My brain is now imprinted by yourself.
But wherefore so beyond my power of sight
  Soars your desirable discourse, that aye
  The more I strive, so much the more I lose it?"
"That thou mayst recognize," she said, "the school
  Which thou hast followed, and mayst see how far
  Its doctrine follows after my discourse,
And mayst behold your path from the divine
  Distant as far as separated is
  From earth the heaven that highest hastens on."
Whence her I answered: "I do not remember
  That ever I estranged myself from you,
  Nor have I conscience of it that reproves me."
"And if thou art not able to remember,"
  Smiling she answered, "recollect thee now
  That thou this very day hast drunk of Lethe;
And if from smoke a fire may be inferred,
  Such an oblivion clearly demonstrates
  Some error in thy will elsewhere intent.
Truly from this time forward shall my words
  Be naked, so far as it is befitting
  To lay them open unto thy rude gaze."
And more coruscant and with slower steps
  The sun was holding the meridian circle,
  Which, with the point of view, shifts here and there
When halted (as he cometh to a halt,
  Who goes before a squadron as its escort,
  If something new he find upon his way)
The ladies seven at a dark shadow's edge,
  Such as, beneath green leaves and branches black,
  The Alp upon its frigid border wears.
In front of them the Tigris and Euphrates
  Methought I saw forth issue from one fountain,
  And slowly part, like friends, from one another.
"O light, O glory of the human race!
  What stream is this which here unfolds itself
  From out one source, and from itself withdraws?"
For such a prayer, 'twas said unto me, "Pray
  Matilda that she tell thee;" and here answered,
  As one does who doth free himself from blame,
The beautiful lady: "This and other things
  Were told to him by me; and sure I am
  The water of Lethe has not hid them from him."
And Beatrice: "Perhaps a greater care,
  Which oftentimes our memory takes away,
  Has made the vision of his mind obscure.
But Eunoe behold, that yonder rises;
  Lead him to it, and, as thou art accustomed,
  Revive again the half-dead virtue in him."
Like gentle soul, that maketh no excuse,
  But makes its own will of another's will
  As soon as by a sign it is disclosed,
Even so, when she had taken hold of me,
  The beautiful lady moved, and unto Statius
  Said, in her womanly manner, "Come with him."
If, Reader, I possessed a longer space
  For writing it, I yet would sing in part
  Of the sweet draught that ne'er would satiate me;
But inasmuch as full are all the leaves
  Made ready for this second canticle,
  The curb of art no farther lets me go.
From the most holy water I returned
  Regenerate, in the manner of new trees
  That are renewed with a new foliage,
Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.
The Divine Comedy
translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(e-text courtesy ILT's Digital Dante Project)
Paradiso: Canto I
The glory of Him who moveth everything
  Doth penetrate the universe, and shine
  In one part more and in another less.
Within that heaven which most his light receives
  Was I, and things beheld which to repeat
  Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends;
Because in drawing near to its desire
  Our intellect ingulphs itself so far,
  That after it the memory cannot go.
Truly whatever of the holy realm
  I had the power to treasure in my mind
  Shall now become the subject of my song.
O good Apollo, for this last emprise
  Make of me such a vessel of thy power
  As giving the beloved laurel asks!
One summit of Parnassus hitherto
  Has been enough for me, but now with both
  I needs must enter the arena left.
Enter into my bosom, thou, and breathe
  As at the time when Marsyas thou didst draw
  Out of the scabbard of those limbs of his.
O power divine, lend'st thou thyself to me
  So that the shadow of the blessed realm
  Stamped in my brain I can make manifest,
Thou'lt see me come unto thy darling tree,
  And crown myself thereafter with those leaves
  Of which the theme and thou shall make me worthy.
So seldom, Father, do we gather them
  For triumph or of Caesar or of Poet,
  (The fault and shame of human inclinations,)
That the Peneian foliage should bring forth
  Joy to the joyous Delphic deity,
  When any one it makes to thirst for it.
A little spark is followed by great flame;
  Perchance with better voices after me
  Shall prayer be made that Cyrrha may respond!
To mortal men by passages diverse
  Uprises the world's lamp; but by that one
  Which circles four uniteth with three crosses,
With better course and with a better star
  Conjoined it issues, and the mundane wax
  Tempers and stamps more after its own fashion.
Almost that passage had made morning there
  And evening here, and there was wholly white
  That hemisphere, and black the other part,
When Beatrice towards the left-hand side
  I saw turned round, and gazing at the sun;
  Never did eagle fasten so upon it!
And even as a second ray is wont
  To issue from the first and reascend,
  Like to a pilgrim who would fain return,
Thus of her action, through the eyes infused
  In my imagination, mine I made,
  And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont.
There much is lawful which is here unlawful
  Unto our powers, by virtue of the place
  Made for the human species as its own.
Not long I bore it, nor so little while
  But I beheld it sparkle round about
  Like iron that comes molten from the fire;
And suddenly it seemed that day to day
  Was added, as if He who has the power
  Had with another sun the heaven adorned.
With eyes upon the everlasting wheels
  Stood Beatrice all intent, and I, on her
  Fixing my vision from above removed,
Such at her aspect inwardly became
  As Glaucus, tasting of the herb that made him
  Peer of the other gods beneath the sea.
To represent transhumanise in words
  Impossible were; the example, then, suffice
  Him for whom Grace the experience reserves.
If I was merely what of me thou newly
  Createdst, Love who governest the heaven,
  Thou knowest, who didst lift me with thy light!
When now the wheel, which thou dost make eternal
  Desiring thee, made me attentive to it
  By harmony thou dost modulate and measure,
Then seemed to me so much of heaven enkindled
  By the sun's flame, that neither rain nor river
  E'er made a lake so widely spread abroad.
The newness of the sound and the great light
  Kindled in me a longing for their cause,
  Never before with such acuteness felt;
Whence she, who saw me as I saw myself,
  To quiet in me my perturbed mind,
  Opened her mouth, ere I did mine to ask,
And she began: "Thou makest thyself so dull
  With false imagining, that thou seest not
  What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off.
Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest;
  But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site,
  Ne'er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest."
If of my former doubt I was divested
  By these brief little words more smiled than spoken,
  I in a new one was the more ensnared;
And said: "Already did I rest content
  From great amazement; but am now amazed
  In what way I transcend these bodies light."
Whereupon she, after a pitying sigh,
  Her eyes directed tow'rds me with that look
  A mother casts on a delirious child;
And she began: "All things whate'er they be
  Have order among themselves, and this is form,
  That makes the universe resemble God.
Here do the higher creatures see the footprints
  Of the Eternal Power, which is the end
  Whereto is made the law already mentioned.
In the order that I speak of are inclined
  All natures, by their destinies diverse,
  More or less near unto their origin;
Hence they move onward unto ports diverse
  O'er the great sea of being; and each one
  With instinct given it which bears it on.
This bears away the fire towards the moon;
  This is in mortal hearts the motive power
  This binds together and unites the earth.
Nor only the created things that are
  Without intelligence this bow shoots forth,
  But those that have both intellect and love.
The Providence that regulates all this
  Makes with its light the heaven forever quiet,
  Wherein that turns which has the greatest haste.
And thither now, as to a site decreed,
  Bears us away the virtue of that cord
  Which aims its arrows at a joyous mark.
True is it, that as oftentimes the form
  Accords not with the intention of the art,
  Because in answering is matter deaf,
So likewise from this course doth deviate
  Sometimes the creature, who the power possesses,
  Though thus impelled, to swerve some other way,
(In the same wise as one may see the fire
  Fall from a cloud,) if the first impetus
  Earthward is wrested by some false delight.
Thou shouldst not wonder more, if well I judge,
  At thine ascent, than at a rivulet
  From some high mount descending to the lowland.
Marvel it would be in thee, if deprived
  Of hindrance, thou wert seated down below,
  As if on earth the living fire were quiet."
Thereat she heavenward turned again her face.
Paradiso: Canto II
O Ye, who in some pretty little boat,
  Eager to listen, have been following
  Behind my ship, that singing sails along,
Turn back to look again upon your shores;
  Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure,
  In losing me, you might yourselves be lost.
The sea I sail has never yet been passed;
  Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo,
  And Muses nine point out to me the Bears.
Ye other few who have the neck uplifted
  Betimes to th' bread of Angels upon which
  One liveth here and grows not sated by it,
Well may you launch upon the deep salt-sea
  Your vessel, keeping still my wake before you
  Upon the water that grows smooth again.
Those glorious ones who unto Colchos passed
  Were not so wonder-struck as you shall be,
  When Jason they beheld a ploughman made!
The con-created and perpetual thirst
  For the realm deiform did bear us on,
  As swift almost as ye the heavens behold.
Upward gazed Beatrice, and I at her;
  And in such space perchance as strikes a bolt
  And flies, and from the notch unlocks itself,
Arrived I saw me where a wondrous thing
  Drew to itself my sight; and therefore she
  From whom no care of mine could be concealed,
Towards me turning, blithe as beautiful,
  Said unto me: "Fix gratefully thy mind
  On God, who unto the first star has brought us."
It seemed to me a cloud encompassed us,
  Luminous, dense, consolidate and bright
  As adamant on which the sun is striking.
Into itself did the eternal pearl
  Receive us, even as water doth receive
  A ray of light, remaining still unbroken.
If I was body, (and we here conceive not
  How one dimension tolerates another,
  Which needs must be if body enter body,)
More the desire should be enkindled in us
  That essence to behold, wherein is seen
  How God and our own nature were united.
There will be seen what we receive by faith,
  Not demonstrated, but self-evident
  In guise of the first truth that man believes.
I made reply: "Madonna, as devoutly
  As most I can do I give thanks to Him
  Who has removed me from the mortal world.
But tell me what the dusky spots may be
  Upon this body, which below on earth
  Make people tell that fabulous tale of Cain?"
Somewhat she smiled; and then, "If the opinion
  Of mortals be erroneous," she said,
  "Where'er the key of sense doth not unlock,
Certes, the shafts of wonder should not pierce thee
  Now, forasmuch as, following the senses,
  Thou seest that the reason has short wings.
But tell me what thou think'st of it thyself."
  And I: "What seems to us up here diverse,
  Is caused, I think, by bodies rare and dense."
And she: "Right truly shalt thou see immersed
  In error thy belief, if well thou hearest
  The argument that I shall make against it.
Lights many the eighth sphere displays to you
  Which in their quality and quantity
  May noted be of aspects different.
If this were caused by rare and dense alone,
  One only virtue would there be in all
  Or more or less diffused, or equally.
Virtues diverse must be perforce the fruits
  Of formal principles; and these, save one,
  Of course would by thy reasoning be destroyed.
Besides, if rarity were of this dimness
  The cause thou askest, either through and through
  This planet thus attenuate were of matter,
Or else, as in a body is apportioned
  The fat and lean, so in like manner this
  Would in its volume interchange the leaves.
Were it the former, in the sun's eclipse
  It would be manifest by the shining through
  Of light, as through aught tenuous interfused.
This is not so; hence we must scan the other,
  And if it chance the other I demolish,
  Then falsified will thy opinion be.
But if this rarity go not through and through,
  There needs must be a limit, beyond which
  Its contrary prevents the further passing,
And thence the foreign radiance is reflected,
  Even as a colour cometh back from glass,
  The which behind itself concealeth lead.
Now thou wilt say the sunbeam shows itself
  More dimly there than in the other parts,
  By being there reflected farther back.
From this reply experiment will free thee
  If e'er thou try it, which is wont to be
  The fountain to the rivers of your arts.
Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove
  Alike from thee, the other more remote
  Between the former two shall meet thine eyes.
Turned towards these, cause that behind thy back
  Be placed a light, illuming the three mirrors
  And coming back to thee by all reflected.
Though in its quantity be not so ample
  The image most remote, there shalt thou see
  How it perforce is equally resplendent.
Now, as beneath the touches of warm rays
  Naked the subject of the snow remains
  Both of its former colour and its cold,
Thee thus remaining in thy intellect,
  Will I inform with such a living light,
  That it shall tremble in its aspect to thee.
Within the heaven of the divine repose
  Revolves a body, in whose virtue lies
  The being of whatever it contains.
The following heaven, that has so many eyes,
  Divides this being by essences diverse,
  Distinguished from it, and by it contained.
The other spheres, by various differences,
  All the distinctions which they have within them
  Dispose unto their ends and their effects.
Thus do these organs of the world proceed,
  As thou perceivest now, from grade to grade;
  Since from above they take, and act beneath.
Observe me well, how through this place I come
  Unto the truth thou wishest, that hereafter
  Thou mayst alone know how to keep the ford
The power and motion of the holy spheres,
  As from the artisan the hammer's craft,
  Forth from the blessed motors must proceed.
The heaven, which lights so manifold make fair,
  From the Intelligence profound, which turns it,
  The image takes, and makes of it a seal.
And even as the soul within your dust
  Through members different and accommodated
  To faculties diverse expands itself,
So likewise this Intelligence diffuses
  Its virtue multiplied among the stars.
  Itself revolving on its unity.
Virtue diverse doth a diverse alloyage
  Make with the precious body that it quickens,
  In which, as life in you, it is combined.
From the glad nature whence it is derived,
  The mingled virtue through the body shines,
  Even as gladness through the living pupil.
From this proceeds whate'er from light to light
  Appeareth different, not from dense and rare:
  This is the formal principle that produces,
According to its goodness, dark and bright."
Paradiso: Canto III
That Sun, which erst with love my bosom warmed,
  Of beauteous truth had unto me discovered,
  By proving and reproving, the sweet aspect.
And, that I might confess myself convinced
  And confident, so far as was befitting,
  I lifted more erect my head to speak.
But there appeared a vision, which withdrew me
  So close to it, in order to be seen,
  That my confession I remembered not.
Such as through polished and transparent glass,
  Or waters crystalline and undisturbed,
  But not so deep as that their bed be lost,
Come back again the outlines of our faces
  So feeble, that a pearl on forehead white
  Comes not less speedily unto our eyes;
Such saw I many faces prompt to speak,
  So that I ran in error opposite
  To that which kindled love 'twixt man and fountain.
As soon as I became aware of them,
  Esteeming them as mirrored semblances,
  To see of whom they were, mine eyes I turned,
And nothing saw, and once more turned them forward
  Direct into the light of my sweet Guide,
  Who smiling kindled in her holy eyes.
"Marvel thou not," she said to me, "because
  I smile at this thy puerile conceit,
  Since on the truth it trusts not yet its foot,
But turns thee, as 'tis wont, on emptiness.
  True substances are these which thou beholdest,
  Here relegate for breaking of some vow.
Therefore speak with them, listen and believe;
  For the true light, which giveth peace to them,
  Permits them not to turn from it their feet."
And I unto the shade that seemed most wishful
  To speak directed me, and I began,
  As one whom too great eagerness bewilders:
"O well-created spirit, who in the rays
  Of life eternal dost the sweetness taste
  Which being untasted ne'er is comprehended,
Grateful 'twill be to me, if thou content me
  Both with thy name and with your destiny."
  Whereat she promptly and with laughing eyes:
"Our charity doth never shut the doors
  Against a just desire, except as one
  Who wills that all her court be like herself.
I was a virgin sister in the world;
  And if thy mind doth contemplate me well,
  The being more fair will not conceal me from thee,
But thou shalt recognise I am Piccarda,
  Who, stationed here among these other blessed,
  Myself am blessed in the slowest sphere.
All our affections, that alone inflamed
  Are in the pleasure of the Holy Ghost,
  Rejoice at being of his order formed;
And this allotment, which appears so low,
  Therefore is given us, because our vows
  Have been neglected and in some part void."
Whence I to her: "In your miraculous aspects
  There shines I know not what of the divine,
  Which doth transform you from our first conceptions.
Therefore I was not swift in my remembrance;
  But what thou tellest me now aids me so,
  That the refiguring is easier to me.
But tell me, ye who in this place are happy,
  Are you desirous of a higher place,
  To see more or to make yourselves more friends?"
First with those other shades she smiled a little;
  Thereafter answered me so full of gladness,
  She seemed to burn in the first fire of love:
"Brother, our will is quieted by virtue
  Of charity, that makes us wish alone
  For what we have, nor gives us thirst for more.
If to be more exalted we aspired,
  Discordant would our aspirations be
  Unto the will of Him who here secludes us;
Which thou shalt see finds no place in these circles,
  If being in charity is needful here,
  And if thou lookest well into its nature;
Nay, 'tis essential to this blest existence
  To keep itself within the will divine,
  Whereby our very wishes are made one;
So that, as we are station above station
  Throughout this realm, to all the realm 'tis pleasing,
  As to the King, who makes his will our will.
And his will is our peace; this is the sea
  To which is moving onward whatsoever
  It doth create, and all that nature makes."
Then it was clear to me how everywhere
  In heaven is Paradise, although the grace
  Of good supreme there rain not in one measure.
But as it comes to pass, if one food sates,
  And for another still remains the longing,
  We ask for this, and that decline with thanks,
E'en thus did I; with gesture and with word,
  To learn from her what was the web wherein
  She did not ply the shuttle to the end.
"A perfect life and merit high in-heaven
  A lady o'er us," said she, "by whose rule
  Down in your world they vest and veil themselves,
That until death they may both watch and sleep
  Beside that Spouse who every vow accepts
  Which charity conformeth to his pleasure.
To follow her, in girlhood from the world
  I fled, and in her habit shut myself,
  And pledged me to the pathway of her sect.
Then men accustomed unto evil more
  Than unto good, from the sweet cloister tore me;
  God knows what afterward my life became.
This other splendour, which to thee reveals
  Itself on my right side, and is enkindled
  With all the illumination of our sphere,
What of myself I say applies to her;
  A nun was she, and likewise from her head
  Was ta'en the shadow of the sacred wimple.
But when she too was to the world returned
  Against her wishes and against good usage,
  Of the heart's veil she never was divested.
Of great Costanza this is the effulgence,
  Who from the second wind of Suabia
  Brought forth the third and latest puissance."
Thus unto me she spake, and then began
  "Ave Maria" singing, and in singing
  Vanished, as through deep water something heavy.
My sight, that followed her as long a time
  As it was possible, when it had lost her
  Turned round unto the mark of more desire,
And wholly unto Beatrice reverted;
  But she such lightnings flashed into mine eyes,
  That at the first my sight endured it not;
And this in questioning more backward made me.
Paradiso: Canto IV
Between two viands, equally removed
  And tempting, a free man would die of hunger
  Ere either he could bring unto his teeth.
So would a lamb between the ravenings
  Of two fierce wolves stand fearing both alike;
  And so would stand a dog between two does.
Hence, if I held my peace, myself I blame not,
  Impelled in equal measure by my doubts,
  Since it must be so, nor do I commend.
I held my peace; but my desire was painted
  Upon my face, and questioning with that
  More fervent far than by articulate speech.
Beatrice did as Daniel had done
  Relieving Nebuchadnezzar from the wrath
  Which rendered him unjustly merciless,
And said: "Well see I how attracteth thee
  One and the other wish, so that thy care
  Binds itself so that forth it does not breathe.
Thou arguest, if good will be permanent,
  The violence of others, for what reason
  Doth it decrease the measure of my merit?
Again for doubting furnish thee occasion
  Souls seeming to return unto the stars,
  According to the sentiment of Plato.
These are the questions which upon thy wish
  Are thrusting equally; and therefore first
  Will I treat that which hath the most of gall.
He of the Seraphim most absorbed in God,
  Moses, and Samuel, and whichever John
  Thou mayst select, I say, and even Mary,
Have not in any other heaven their seats,
  Than have those spirits that just appeared to thee,
  Nor of existence more or fewer years;
But all make beautiful the primal circle,
  And have sweet life in different degrees,
  By feeling more or less the eternal breath.
They showed themselves here, not because allotted
  This sphere has been to them, but to give sign
  Of the celestial which is least exalted.
To speak thus is adapted to your mind,
  Since only through the sense it apprehendeth
  What then it worthy makes of intellect.
On this account the Scripture condescends
  Unto your faculties, and feet and hands
  To God attributes, and means something else;
And Holy Church under an aspect human
  Gabriel and Michael represent to you,
  And him who made Tobias whole again.
That which Timaeus argues of the soul
  Doth not resemble that which here is seen,
  Because it seems that as he speaks he thinks.
He says the soul unto its star returns,
  Believing it to have been severed thence
  Whenever nature gave it as a form.
Perhaps his doctrine is of other guise
  Than the words sound, and possibly may be
  With meaning that is not to be derided.
If he doth mean that to these wheels return
  The honour of their influence and the blame,
  Perhaps his bow doth hit upon some truth.
This principle ill understood once warped
  The whole world nearly, till it went astray
  Invoking Jove and Mercury and Mars.
The other doubt which doth disquiet thee
  Less venom has, for its malevolence
  Could never lead thee otherwhere from me.
That as unjust our justice should appear
  In eyes of mortals, is an argument
  Of faith, and not of sin heretical.
But still, that your perception may be able
  To thoroughly penetrate this verity,
  As thou desirest, I will satisfy thee.
If it be violence when he who suffers
  Co-operates not with him who uses force,
  These souls were not on that account excused;
For will is never quenched unless it will,
  But operates as nature doth in fire
  If violence a thousand times distort it.
Hence, if it yieldeth more or less, it seconds
  The force; and these have done so, having power
  Of turning back unto the holy place.
If their will had been perfect, like to that
  Which Lawrence fast upon his gridiron held,
  And Mutius made severe to his own hand,
It would have urged them back along the road
  Whence they were dragged, as soon as they were free;
  But such a solid will is all too rare.
And by these words, if thou hast gathered them
  As thou shouldst do, the argument is refuted
  That would have still annoyed thee many times.
But now another passage runs across
  Before thine eyes, and such that by thyself
  Thou couldst not thread it ere thou wouldst be weary.
I have for certain put into thy mind
  That soul beatified could never lie,
  For it is near the primal Truth,
And then thou from Piccarda might'st have heard
  Costanza kept affection for the veil,
  So that she seemeth here to contradict me.
Many times, brother, has it come to pass,
  That, to escape from peril, with reluctance
  That has been done it was not right to do,
E'en as Alcmaeon (who, being by his father
  Thereto entreated, his own mother slew)
  Not to lose pity pitiless became.
At this point I desire thee to remember
  That force with will commingles, and they cause
  That the offences cannot be excused.
Will absolute consenteth not to evil;
  But in so far consenteth as it fears,
  If it refrain, to fall into more harm.
Hence when Piccarda uses this expression,
  She meaneth the will absolute, and I
  The other, so that both of us speak truth."
Such was the flowing of the holy river
  That issued from the fount whence springs all truth;
  This put to rest my wishes one and all.
"O love of the first lover, O divine,"
  Said I forthwith, "whose speech inundates me
  And warms me so, it more and more revives me,
My own affection is not so profound
  As to suffice in rendering grace for grace;
  Let Him, who sees and can, thereto respond.
Well I perceive that never sated is
  Our intellect unless the Truth illume it,
  Beyond which nothing true expands itself.
It rests therein, as wild beast in his lair,
  When it attains it; and it can attain it;
  If not, then each desire would frustrate be.
Therefore springs up, in fashion of a shoot,
  Doubt at the foot of truth; and this is nature,
  Which to the top from height to height impels us.
This doth invite me, this assurance give me
  With reverence, Lady, to inquire of you
  Another truth, which is obscure to me.
I wish to know if man can satisfy you
  For broken vows with other good deeds, so
  That in your balance they will not be light."
Beatrice gazed upon me with her eyes
  Full of the sparks of love, and so divine,
  That, overcome my power, I turned my back
And almost lost myself with eyes downcast.
Paradiso: Canto V
"If in the heat of love I flame upon thee
  Beyond the measure that on earth is seen,
  So that the valour of thine eyes I vanquish,
Marvel thou not thereat; for this proceeds
  From perfect sight, which as it apprehends
  To the good apprehended moves its feet.
Well I perceive how is already shining
  Into thine intellect the eternal light,
  That only seen enkindles always love;
And if some other thing your love seduce,
  'Tis nothing but a vestige of the same,
  Ill understood, which there is shining through.
Thou fain wouldst know if with another service
  For broken vow can such return be made
  As to secure the soul from further claim."
This Canto thus did Beatrice begin;
  And, as a man who breaks not off his speech,
  Continued thus her holy argument:
"The greatest gift that in his largess God
  Creating made, and unto his own goodness
  Nearest conformed, and that which he doth prize
Most highly, is the freedom of the will,
  Wherewith the creatures of intelligence
  Both all and only were and are endowed.
Now wilt thou see, if thence thou reasonest,
  The high worth of a vow, if it he made
  So that when thou consentest God consents:
For, closing between God and man the compact,
  A sacrifice is of this treasure made,
  Such as I say, and made by its own act.
What can be rendered then as compensation?
  Think'st thou to make good use of what thou'st offered,
  With gains ill gotten thou wouldst do good deed.
Now art thou certain of the greater point;
  But because Holy Church in this dispenses,
  Which seems against the truth which I have shown thee,
Behoves thee still to sit awhile at table,
  Because the solid food which thou hast taken
  Requireth further aid for thy digestion.
Open thy mind to that which I reveal,
  And fix it there within; for 'tis not knowledge,
  The having heard without retaining it.
In the essence of this sacrifice two things
  Convene together; and the one is that
  Of which 'tis made, the other is the agreement.
This last for evermore is cancelled not
  Unless complied with, and concerning this
  With such precision has above been spoken.
Therefore it was enjoined upon the Hebrews
  To offer still, though sometimes what was offered
  Might be commuted, as thou ought'st to know.
The other, which is known to thee as matter,
  May well indeed be such that one errs not
  If it for other matter be exchanged.
But let none shift the burden on his shoulder
  At his arbitrament, without the turning
  Both of the white and of the yellow key;
And every permutation deem as foolish,
  If in the substitute the thing relinquished,
  As the four is in six, be not contained.
Therefore whatever thing has so great weight
  In value that it drags down every balance,
  Cannot be satisfied with other spending.
Let mortals never take a vow in jest;
  Be faithful and not blind in doing that,
  As Jephthah was in his first offering,
Whom more beseemed to say, 'I have done wrong,
  Than to do worse by keeping; and as foolish
  Thou the great leader of the Greeks wilt find,
Whence wept Iphigenia her fair face,
  And made for her both wise and simple weep,
  Who heard such kind of worship spoken of.'
Christians, be ye more serious in your movements;
  Be ye not like a feather at each wind,
  And think not every water washes you.
Ye have the Old and the New Testament,
  And the Pastor of the Church who guideth you
  Let this suffice you unto your salvation.
If evil appetite cry aught else to you,
  Be ye as men, and not as silly sheep,
  So that the Jew among you may not mock you.
Be ye not as the lamb that doth abandon
  Its mother's milk, and frolicsome and simple
  Combats at its own pleasure with itself."
Thus Beatrice to me even as I write it;
  Then all desireful turned herself again
  To that part where the world is most alive.
Her silence and her change of countenance
  Silence imposed upon my eager mind,
  That had already in advance new questions;
And as an arrow that upon the mark
  Strikes ere the bowstring quiet hath become,
  So did we speed into the second realm.
My Lady there so joyful I beheld,
  As into the brightness of that heaven she entered,
  More luminous thereat the planet grew;
And if the star itself was changed and smiled,
  What became I, who by my nature am
  Exceeding mutable in every guise!
As, in a fish-pond which is pure and tranquil,
  The fishes draw to that which from without
  Comes in such fashion that their food they deem it;
So I beheld more than a thousand splendours
  Drawing towards us, and in each was heard:
  "Lo, this is she who shall increase our love."
And as each one was coming unto us,
  Full of beatitude the shade was seen,
  By the effulgence clear that issued from it.
Think, Reader, if what here is just beginning
  No farther should proceed, how thou wouldst have
  An agonizing need of knowing more;
And of thyself thou'lt see how I from these
  Was in desire of hearing their conditions,
  As they unto mine eyes were manifest.
"O thou well-born, unto whom Grace concedes
  To see the thrones of the eternal triumph,
  Or ever yet the warfare be abandoned
With light that through the whole of heaven is spread
  Kindled are we, and hence if thou desirest
  To know of us, at thine own pleasure sate thee."
Thus by some one among those holy spirits
  Was spoken, and by Beatrice: "Speak, speak
  Securely, and believe them even as Gods."
"Well I perceive how thou dost nest thyself
  In thine own light, and drawest it from thine eyes,
  Because they coruscate when thou dost smile,
But know not who thou art, nor why thou hast,
  Spirit august, thy station in the sphere
  That veils itself to men in alien rays."
This said I in direction of the light
  Which first had spoken to me; whence it became
  By far more lucent than it was before.
Even as the sun, that doth conceal himself
  By too much light, when heat has worn away
  The tempering influence of the vapours dense,
By greater rapture thus concealed itself
  In its own radiance the figure saintly,
  And thus close, close enfolded answered me
In fashion as the following Canto sings.
Paradiso: Canto VI
"After that Constantine the eagle turned
  Against the course of heaven, which it had followed
  Behind the ancient who Lavinia took,
Two hundred years and more the bird of God
  In the extreme of Europe held itself,
  Near to the mountains whence it issued first;
And under shadow of the sacred plumes
  It governed there the world from hand to hand,
  And, changing thus, upon mine own alighted.
Caesar I was, and am Justinian,
  Who, by the will of primal Love I feel,
  Took from the laws the useless and redundant;
And ere unto the work I was attent,
  One nature to exist in Christ, not more,
  Believed, and with such faith was I contented.
But blessed Agapetus, he who was
  The supreme pastor, to the faith sincere
  Pointed me out the way by words of his.
Him I believed, and what was his assertion
  I now see clearly, even as thou seest
  Each contradiction to be false and true.
As soon as with the Church I moved my feet,
  God in his grace it pleased with this high task
  To inspire me, and I gave me wholly to it,
And to my Belisarius I commended
  The arms, to which was heaven's right hand so joined
  It was a signal that I should repose.
Now here to the first question terminates
  My answer; but the character thereof
  Constrains me to continue with a sequel,
In order that thou see with how great reason
  Men move against the standard sacrosanct,
  Both who appropriate and who oppose it.
Behold how great a power has made it worthy
  Of reverence, beginning from the hour
  When Pallas died to give it sovereignty.
Thou knowest it made in Alba its abode
  Three hundred years and upward, till at last
  The three to three fought for it yet again.
Thou knowest what it achieved from Sabine wrong
  Down to Lucretia's sorrow, in seven kings
  O'ercoming round about the neighboring nations;
Thou knowest what it achieved, borne by the Romans
  Illustrious against Brennus, against Pyrrhus,
  Against the other princes and confederates.
Torquatus thence and Quinctius, who from locks
  Unkempt was named, Decii and Fabii,
  Received the fame I willingly embalm;
It struck to earth the pride of the Arabians,
  Who, following Hannibal, had passed across
  The Alpine ridges, Po, from which thou glidest;
Beneath it triumphed while they yet were young
  Pompey and Scipio, and to the hill
  Beneath which thou wast born it bitter seemed;
Then, near unto the time when heaven had willed
  To bring the whole world to its mood serene,
  Did Caesar by the will of Rome assume it.
What it achieved from Var unto the Rhine,
  Isere beheld and Saone, beheld the Seine,
  And every valley whence the Rhone is filled;
What it achieved when it had left Ravenna,
  And leaped the Rubicon, was such a flight
  That neither tongue nor pen could follow it.
Round towards Spain it wheeled its legions; then
  Towards Durazzo, and Pharsalia smote
  That to the calid Nile was felt the pain.
Antandros and the Simois, whence it started,
  It saw again, and there where Hector lies,
  And ill for Ptolemy then roused itself.
From thence it came like lightning upon Juba;
  Then wheeled itself again into your West,
  Where the Pompeian clarion it heard.
From what it wrought with the next standard-bearer
  Brutus and Cassius howl in Hell together,
  And Modena and Perugia dolent were;
Still doth the mournful Cleopatra weep
  Because thereof, who, fleeing from before it,
  Took from the adder sudden and black death.
With him it ran even to the Red Sea shore;
  With him it placed the world in so great peace,
  That unto Janus was his temple closed.
But what the standard that has made me speak
  Achieved before, and after should achieve
  Throughout the mortal realm that lies beneath it,
Becometh in appearance mean and dim,
  If in the hand of the third Caesar seen
  With eye unclouded and affection pure,
Because the living Justice that inspires me
  Granted it, in the hand of him I speak of,
  The glory of doing vengeance for its wrath.
Now here attend to what I answer thee;
  Later it ran with Titus to do vengeance
  Upon the vengeance of the ancient sin.
And when the tooth of Lombardy had bitten
  The Holy Church, then underneath its wings
  Did Charlemagne victorious succor her.
Now hast thou power to judge of such as those
  Whom I accused above, and of their crimes,
  Which are the cause of all your miseries.
To the public standard one the yellow lilies
  Opposes, the other claims it for a party,
  So that 'tis hard to see which sins the most.
Let, let the Ghibellines ply their handicraft
  Beneath some other standard; for this ever
  Ill follows he who it and justice parts.
And let not this new Charles e'er strike it down,
  He and his Guelfs, but let him fear the talons
  That from a nobler lion stripped the fell.
Already oftentimes the sons have wept
  The father's crime; and let him not believe
  That God will change His scutcheon for the lilies.
This little planet doth adorn itself
  With the good spirits that have active been,
  That fame and honour might come after them;
And whensoever the desires mount thither,
  Thus deviating, must perforce the rays
  Of the true love less vividly mount upward.
But in commensuration of our wages
  With our desert is portion of our joy,
  Because we see them neither less nor greater.
Herein doth living Justice sweeten so
  Affection in us, that for evermore
  It cannot warp to any iniquity.
Voices diverse make up sweet melodies;
  So in this life of ours the seats diverse
  Render sweet harmony among these spheres;
And in the compass of this present pearl
  Shineth the sheen of Romeo, of whom
  The grand and beauteous work was ill rewarded.
But the Provencals who against him wrought,
  They have not laughed, and therefore ill goes he
  Who makes his hurt of the good deeds of others.
Four daughters, and each one of them a queen,
  Had Raymond Berenger, and this for him
  Did Romeo, a poor man and a pilgrim;
And then malicious words incited him
  To summon to a reckoning this just man,
  Who rendered to him seven and five for ten.
Then he departed poor and stricken in years,
  And if the world could know the heart he had,
  In begging bit by bit his livelihood,
Though much it laud him, it would laud him more."
Paradiso: Canto VII
"Osanna sanctus Deus Sabaoth,
  Superillustrans claritate tua
  Felices ignes horum malahoth!"
In this wise, to his melody returning,
  This substance, upon which a double light
  Doubles itself, was seen by me to sing,
And to their dance this and the others moved,
  And in the manner of swift-hurrying sparks
  Veiled themselves from me with a sudden distance.
Doubting was I, and saying, "Tell her, tell her,"
  Within me, "tell her," saying, "tell my Lady,"
  Who slakes my thirst with her sweet effluences;
And yet that reverence which doth lord it over
  The whole of me only by B and ICE,
  Bowed me again like unto one who drowses.
Short while did Beatrice endure me thus;
  And she began, lighting me with a smile
  Such as would make one happy in the fire:
"According to infallible advisement,
  After what manner a just vengeance justly
  Could be avenged has put thee upon thinking,
But I will speedily thy mind unloose;
  And do thou listen, for these words of mine
  Of a great doctrine will a present make thee.
By not enduring on the power that wills
  Curb for his good, that man who ne'er was born,
  Damning himself damned all his progeny;
Whereby the human species down below
  Lay sick for many centuries in great error,
  Till to descend it pleased the Word of God
To where the nature, which from its own Maker
  Estranged itself, he joined to him in person
  By the sole act of his eternal love.
Now unto what is said direct thy sight;
  This nature when united to its Maker,
  Such as created, was sincere and good;
But by itself alone was banished forth
  From Paradise, because it turned aside
  Out of the way of truth and of its life.
Therefore the penalty the cross held out,
  If measured by the nature thus assumed,
  None ever yet with so great justice stung,
And none was ever of so great injustice,
  Considering who the Person was that suffered,
  Within whom such a nature was contracted.
From one act therefore issued things diverse;
  To God and to the Jews one death was pleasing;
  Earth trembled at it and the Heaven was opened.
It should no longer now seem difficult
  To thee, when it is said that a just vengeance
  By a just court was afterward avenged.
But now do I behold thy mind entangled
  From thought to thought within a knot, from which
  With great desire it waits to free itself.
Thou sayest, 'Well discern I what I hear;
  But it is hidden from me why God willed
  For our redemption only this one mode.'
Buried remaineth, brother, this decree
  Unto the eyes of every one whose nature
  Is in the flame of love not yet adult.
Verily, inasmuch as at this mark
  One gazes long and little is discerned,
  Wherefore this mode was worthiest will I say.
Goodness Divine, which from itself doth spurn
  All envy, burning in itself so sparkles
  That the eternal beauties it unfolds.
Whate'er from this immediately distils
  Has afterwards no end, for ne'er removed
  Is its impression when it sets its seal.
Whate'er from this immediately rains down
  Is wholly free, because it is not subject
  Unto the influences of novel things.
The more conformed thereto, the more it pleases;
  For the blest ardour that irradiates all things
  In that most like itself is most vivacious.
With all of these things has advantaged been
  The human creature; and if one be wanting,
  From his nobility he needs must fall.
'Tis sin alone which doth disfranchise him,
  And render him unlike the Good Supreme,
  So that he little with its light is blanched,
And to his dignity no more returns,
  Unless he fill up where transgression empties
  With righteous pains for criminal delights.
Your nature when it sinned so utterly
  In its own seed, out of these dignities
  Even as out of Paradise was driven,
Nor could itself recover, if thou notest
  With nicest subtilty, by any way,
  Except by passing one of these two fords:
Either that God through clemency alone
  Had pardon granted, or that man himself
  Had satisfaction for his folly made.
Fix now thine eye deep into the abyss
  Of the eternal counsel, to my speech
  As far as may be fastened steadfastly!
Man in his limitations had not power
  To satisfy, not having power to sink
  In his humility obeying then,
Far as he disobeying thought to rise;
  And for this reason man has been from power
  Of satisfying by himself excluded.
Therefore it God behoved in his own ways
  Man to restore unto his perfect life,
  I say in one, or else in both of them.
But since the action of the doer is
  So much more grateful, as it more presents
  The goodness of the heart from which it issues,
Goodness Divine, that doth imprint the world,
  Has been contented to proceed by each
  And all its ways to lift you up again;
Nor 'twixt the first day and the final night
  Such high and such magnificent proceeding
  By one or by the other was or shall be;
For God more bounteous was himself to give
  To make man able to uplift himself,
  Than if he only of himself had pardoned;
And all the other modes were insufficient
  For justice, were it not the Son of God
  Himself had humbled to become incarnate.
Now, to fill fully each desire of thine,
  Return I to elucidate one place,
  In order that thou there mayst see as I do.
Thou sayst: 'I see the air, I see the fire,
  The water, and the earth, and all their mixtures
  Come to corruption, and short while endure;
And these things notwithstanding were created;'
  Therefore if that which I have said were true,
  They should have been secure against corruption.
The Angels, brother, and the land sincere
  In which thou art, created may be called
  Just as they are in their entire existence;
But all the elements which thou hast named,
  And all those things which out of them are made,
  By a created virtue are informed.
Created was the matter which they have;
  Created was the informing influence
  Within these stars that round about them go.
The soul of every brute and of the plants
  By its potential temperament attracts
  The ray and motion of the holy lights;
But your own life immediately inspires
  Supreme Beneficence, and enamours it
  So with herself, it evermore desires her.
And thou from this mayst argue furthermore
  Your resurrection, if thou think again
  How human flesh was fashioned at that time
When the first parents both of them were made."
Paradiso: Canto VIII
The world used in its peril to believe
  That the fair Cypria delirious love
  Rayed out, in the third epicycle turning;
Wherefore not only unto her paid honour
  Of sacrifices and of votive cry
  The ancient nations in the ancient error,
But both Dione honoured they and Cupid,
  That as her mother, this one as her son,
  And said that he had sat in Dido's lap;
And they from her, whence I beginning take,
  Took the denomination of the star
  That woos the sun, now following, now in front.
I was not ware of our ascending to it;
  But of our being in it gave full faith
  My Lady whom I saw more beauteous grow.
And as within a flame a spark is seen,
  And as within a voice a voice discerned,
  When one is steadfast, and one comes and goes,
Within that light beheld I other lamps
  Move in a circle, speeding more and less,
  Methinks in measure of their inward vision.
From a cold cloud descended never winds,
  Or visible or not, so rapidly
  They would not laggard and impeded seem
To any one who had those lights divine
  Seen come towards us, leaving the gyration
  Begun at first in the high Seraphim.
And behind those that most in front appeared
  Sounded "Osanna!" so that never since
  To hear again was I without desire.
Then unto us more nearly one approached,
  And it alone began: "We all are ready
  Unto thy pleasure, that thou joy in us.
We turn around with the celestial Princes,
  One gyre and one gyration and one thirst,
  To whom thou in the world of old didst say,
'Ye who, intelligent, the third heaven are moving;'
  And are so full of love, to pleasure thee
  A little quiet will not be less sweet."
After these eyes of mine themselves had offered
  Unto my Lady reverently, and she
  Content and certain of herself had made them,
Back to the light they turned, which so great promise
  Made of itself, and "Say, who art thou?" was
  My voice, imprinted with a great affection.
O how and how much I beheld it grow
  With the new joy that superadded was
  Unto its joys, as soon as I had spoken!
Thus changed, it said to me: "The world possessed me
  Short time below; and, if it had been more,
  Much evil will be which would not have been.
My gladness keepeth me concealed from thee,
  Which rayeth round about me, and doth hide me
  Like as a creature swathed in its own silk.
Much didst thou love me, and thou hadst good reason;
  For had I been below, I should have shown thee
  Somewhat beyond the foliage of my love.
That left-hand margin, which doth bathe itself
  In Rhone, when it is mingled with the Sorgue,
  Me for its lord awaited in due time,
And that horn of Ausonia, which is towned
  With Bari, with Gaeta and Catona,
  Whence Tronto and Verde in the sea disgorge.
Already flashed upon my brow the crown
  Of that dominion which the Danube waters
  After the German borders it abandons;
And beautiful Trinacria, that is murky
  'Twixt Pachino and Peloro, (on the gulf
  Which greatest scath from Eurus doth receive,)
Not through Typhoeus, but through nascent sulphur,
  Would have awaited her own monarchs still,
  Through me from Charles descended and from Rudolph,
If evil lordship, that exasperates ever
  The subject populations, had not moved
  Palermo to the outcry of 'Death! death!'
And if my brother could but this foresee,
  The greedy poverty of Catalonia
  Straight would he flee, that it might not molest him;
For verily 'tis needful to provide,
  Through him or other, so that on his bark
  Already freighted no more freight be placed.
His nature, which from liberal covetous
  Descended, such a soldiery would need
  As should not care for hoarding in a chest."
"Because I do believe the lofty joy
  Thy speech infuses into me, my Lord,
  Where every good thing doth begin and end
Thou seest as I see it, the more grateful
  Is it to me; and this too hold I dear,
  That gazing upon God thou dost discern it.
Glad hast thou made me; so make clear to me,
  Since speaking thou hast stirred me up to doubt,
  How from sweet seed can bitter issue forth."
This I to him; and he to me: "If I
  Can show to thee a truth, to what thou askest
  Thy face thou'lt hold as thou dost hold thy back.
The Good which all the realm thou art ascending
  Turns and contents, maketh its providence
  To be a power within these bodies vast;
And not alone the natures are foreseen
  Within the mind that in itself is perfect,
  But they together with their preservation.
For whatsoever thing this bow shoots forth
  Falls foreordained unto an end foreseen,
  Even as a shaft directed to its mark.
If that were not, the heaven which thou dost walk
  Would in such manner its effects produce,
  That they no longer would be arts, but ruins.
This cannot be, if the Intelligences
  That keep these stars in motion are not maimed,
  And maimed the First that has not made them perfect.
Wilt thou this truth have clearer made to thee?"
  And I: "Not so; for 'tis impossible
  That nature tire, I see, in what is needful."
Whence he again: "Now say, would it be worse
  For men on earth were they not citizens?"
  "Yes," I replied; "and here I ask no reason."
"And can they be so, if below they live not
  Diversely unto offices diverse?
  No, if your master writeth well for you."
So came he with deductions to this point;
  Then he concluded: "Therefore it behoves
  The roots of your effects to be diverse.
Hence one is Solon born, another Xerxes,
  Another Melchisedec, and another he
  Who, flying through the air, his son did lose.
Revolving Nature, which a signet is
  To mortal wax, doth practise well her art,
  But not one inn distinguish from another;
Thence happens it that Esau differeth
  In seed from Jacob; and Quirinus comes
  From sire so vile that he is given to Mars.
A generated nature its own way
  Would always make like its progenitors,
  If Providence divine were not triumphant.
Now that which was behind thee is before thee;
  But that thou know that I with thee am pleased,
  With a corollary will I mantle thee.
Evermore nature, if it fortune find
  Discordant to it, like each other seed
  Out of its region, maketh evil thrift;
And if the world below would fix its mind
  On the foundation which is laid by nature,
  Pursuing that, 'twould have the people good.
But you unto religion wrench aside
  Him who was born to gird him with the sword,
  And make a king of him who is for sermons;
Therefore your footsteps wander from the road."
Paradiso: Canto IX
Beautiful Clemence, after that thy Charles
  Had me enlightened, he narrated to me
  The treacheries his seed should undergo;
But said: "Be still and let the years roll round;"
  So I can only say, that lamentation
  Legitimate shall follow on your wrongs.
And of that holy light the life already
  Had to the Sun which fills it turned again,
  As to that good which for each thing sufficeth.
Ah, souls deceived, and creatures impious,
  Who from such good do turn away your hearts,
  Directing upon vanity your foreheads!
And now, behold, another of those splendours
  Approached me, and its will to pleasure me
  It signified by brightening outwardly.
The eyes of Beatrice, that fastened were
  Upon me, as before, of dear assent
  To my desire assurance gave to me.
"Ah, bring swift compensation to my wish,
  Thou blessed spirit," I said, "and give me proof
  That what I think in thee I can reflect!"
Whereat the light, that still was new to me,
  Out of its depths, whence it before was singing,
  As one delighted to do good, continued:
"Within that region of the land depraved
  Of Italy, that lies between Rialto
  And fountain-heads of Brenta and of Piava,
Rises a hill, and mounts not very high,
  Wherefrom descended formerly a torch
  That made upon that region great assault.
Out of one root were born both I and it;
  Cunizza was I called, and here I shine
  Because the splendour of this star o'ercame me.
But gladly to myself the cause I pardon
  Of my allotment, and it does not grieve me;
  Which would perhaps seem strong unto your vulgar.
Of this so luculent and precious jewel,
  Which of our heaven is nearest unto me,
  Great fame remained; and ere it die away
This hundredth year shall yet quintupled be.
  See if man ought to make him excellent,
  So that another life the first may leave!
And thus thinks not the present multitude
  Shut in by Adige and Tagliamento,
  Nor yet for being scourged is penitent.
But soon 'twill be that Padua in the marsh
  Will change the water that Vicenza bathes,
  Because the folk are stubborn against duty;
And where the Sile and Cagnano join
  One lordeth it, and goes with lofty head,
  For catching whom e'en now the net is making.
Feltro moreover of her impious pastor
  Shall weep the crime, which shall so monstrous be
  That for the like none ever entered Malta.
Ample exceedingly would be the vat
  That of the Ferrarese could hold the blood,
  And weary who should weigh it ounce by ounce,
Of which this courteous priest shall make a gift
  To show himself a partisan; and such gifts
  Will to the living of the land conform.
Above us there are mirrors, Thrones you call them,
  From which shines out on us God Judicant,
  So that this utterance seems good to us."
Here it was silent, and it had the semblance
  Of being turned elsewhither, by the wheel
  On which it entered as it was before.
The other joy, already known to me,
  Became a thing transplendent in my sight,
  As a fine ruby smitten by the sun.
Through joy effulgence is acquired above,
  As here a smile; but down below, the shade
  Outwardly darkens, as the mind is sad.
"God seeth all things, and in Him, blest spirit,
  Thy sight is," said I, "so that never will
  Of his can possibly from thee be hidden;
Thy voice, then, that for ever makes the heavens
  Glad, with the singing of those holy fires
  Which of their six wings make themselves a cowl,
Wherefore does it not satisfy my longings?
  Indeed, I would not wait thy questioning
  If I in thee were as thou art in me."
"The greatest of the valleys where the water
  Expands itself," forthwith its words began,
  "That sea excepted which the earth engarlands,
Between discordant shores against the sun
  Extends so far, that it meridian makes
  Where it was wont before to make the horizon.
I was a dweller on that valley's shore
  'Twixt Ebro and Magra that with journey short
  Doth from the Tuscan part the Genoese.
With the same sunset and same sunrise nearly
  Sit Buggia and the city whence I was,
  That with its blood once made the harbour hot.
Folco that people called me unto whom
  My name was known; and now with me this heaven
  Imprints itself, as I did once with it;
For more the daughter of Belus never burned,
  Offending both Sichaeus and Creusa,
  Than I, so long as it became my locks,
Nor yet that Rodophean, who deluded
  was by Demophoon, nor yet Alcides,
  When Iole he in his heart had locked.
Yet here is no repenting, but we smile,
  Not at the fault, which comes not back to mind,
  But at the power which ordered and foresaw.
Here we behold the art that doth adorn
  With such affection, and the good discover
  Whereby the world above turns that below.
But that thou wholly satisfied mayst bear
  Thy wishes hence which in this sphere are born,
  Still farther to proceed behoveth me.
Thou fain wouldst know who is within this light
  That here beside me thus is scintillating,
  Even as a sunbeam in the limpid water.
Then know thou, that within there is at rest
  Rahab, and being to our order joined,
  With her in its supremest grade 'tis sealed.
Into this heaven, where ends the shadowy cone
  Cast by your world, before all other souls
  First of Christ's triumph was she taken up.
Full meet it was to leave her in some heaven,
  Even as a palm of the high victory
  Which he acquired with one palm and the other,
Because she favoured the first glorious deed
  Of Joshua upon the Holy Land,
  That little stirs the memory of the Pope.
Thy city, which an offshoot is of him
  Who first upon his Maker turned his back,
  And whose ambition is so sorely wept,
Brings forth and scatters the accursed flower
  Which both the sheep and lambs hath led astray
  Since it has turned the shepherd to a wolf.
For this the Evangel and the mighty Doctors
  Are derelict, and only the Decretals
  So studied that it shows upon their margins.
On this are Pope and Cardinals intent;
  Their meditations reach not Nazareth,
  There where his pinions Gabriel unfolded;
But Vatican and the other parts elect
  Of Rome, which have a cemetery been
  Unto the soldiery that followed Peter
Shall soon be free from this adultery."
Paradiso: Canto X
Looking into his Son with all the Love
  Which each of them eternally breathes forth,
  The Primal and unutterable Power
Whate'er before the mind or eye revolves
  With so much order made, there can be none
  Who this beholds without enjoying Him.
Lift up then, Reader, to the lofty wheels
  With me thy vision straight unto that part
  Where the one motion on the other strikes,
And there begin to contemplate with joy
  That Master's art, who in himself so loves it
  That never doth his eye depart therefrom.
Behold how from that point goes branching off
  The oblique circle, which conveys the planets,
  To satisfy the world that calls upon them;
And if their pathway were not thus inflected,
  Much virtue in the heavens would be in vain,
  And almost every power below here dead.
If from the straight line distant more or less
  Were the departure, much would wanting be
  Above and underneath of mundane order.
Remain now, Reader, still upon thy bench,
  In thought pursuing that which is foretasted,
  If thou wouldst jocund be instead of weary.
I've set before thee; henceforth feed thyself,
  For to itself diverteth all my care
  That theme whereof I have been made the scribe.
The greatest of the ministers of nature,
  Who with the power of heaven the world imprints
  And measures with his light the time for us,
With that part which above is called to mind
  Conjoined, along the spirals was revolving,
  Where each time earlier he presents himself;
And I was with him; but of the ascending
  I was not conscious, saving as a man
  Of a first thought is conscious ere it come;
And Beatrice, she who is seen to pass
  From good to better, and so suddenly
  That not by time her action is expressed,
How lucent in herself must she have been!
  And what was in the sun, wherein I entered,
  Apparent not by colour but by light,
I, though I call on genius, art, and practice,
  Cannot so tell that it could be imagined;
  Believe one can, and let him long to see it.
And if our fantasies too lowly are
  For altitude so great, it is no marvel,
  Since o'er the sun was never eye could go.
Such in this place was the fourth family
  Of the high Father, who forever sates it,
  Showing how he breathes forth and how begets.
And Beatrice began: "Give thanks, give thanks
  Unto the Sun of Angels, who to this
  Sensible one has raised thee by his grace!"
Never was heart of mortal so disposed
  To worship, nor to give itself to God
  With all its gratitude was it so ready,
As at those words did I myself become;
  And all my love was so absorbed in Him,
  That in oblivion Beatrice was eclipsed.
Nor this displeased her; but she smiled at it
  So that the splendour of her laughing eyes
  My single mind on many things divided.
Lights many saw I, vivid and triumphant,
  Make us a centre and themselves a circle,
  More sweet in voice than luminous in aspect.
Thus girt about the daughter of Latona
  We sometimes see, when pregnant is the air,
  So that it holds the thread which makes her zone.
Within the court of Heaven, whence I return,
  Are many jewels found, so fair and precious
  They cannot be transported from the realm;
And of them was the singing of those lights.
  Who takes not wings that he may fly up thither,
  The tidings thence may from the dumb await!
As soon as singing thus those burning suns
  Had round about us whirled themselves three times,
  Like unto stars neighbouring the steadfast poles,
Ladies they seemed, not from the dance released,
  But who stop short, in silence listening
  Till they have gathered the new melody.
And within one I heard beginning: "When
  The radiance of grace, by which is kindled
  True love, and which thereafter grows by loving,
Within thee multiplied is so resplendent
  That it conducts thee upward by that stair,
  Where without reascending none descends,
Who should deny the wine out of his vial
  Unto thy thirst, in liberty were not
  Except as water which descends not seaward.
Fain wouldst thou know with what plants is enflowered
  This garland that encircles with delight
  The Lady fair who makes thee strong for heaven.
Of the lambs was I of the holy flock
  Which Dominic conducteth by a road
  Where well one fattens if he strayeth not.
He who is nearest to me on the right
  My brother and master was; and he Albertus
  Is of Cologne, I Thomas of Aquinum.
If thou of all the others wouldst be certain,
  Follow behind my speaking with thy sight
  Upward along the blessed garland turning.
That next effulgence issues from the smile
  Of Gratian, who assisted both the courts
  In such wise that it pleased in Paradise.
The other which near by adorns our choir
  That Peter was who, e'en as the poor widow,
  Offered his treasure unto Holy Church.
The fifth light, that among us is the fairest,
  Breathes forth from such a love, that all the world
  Below is greedy to learn tidings of it.
Within it is the lofty mind, where knowledge
  So deep was put, that, if the true be true,
  To see so much there never rose a second.
Thou seest next the lustre of that taper,
  Which in the flesh below looked most within
  The angelic nature and its ministry.
Within that other little light is smiling
  The advocate of the Christian centuries,
  Out of whose rhetoric Augustine was furnished.
Now if thou trainest thy mind's eye along
  From light to light pursuant of my praise,
  With thirst already of the eighth thou waitest.
By seeing every good therein exults
  The sainted soul, which the fallacious world
  Makes manifest to him who listeneth well;
The body whence 'twas hunted forth is lying
  Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom
  And banishment it came unto this peace.
See farther onward flame the burning breath
  Of Isidore, of Beda, and of Richard
  Who was in contemplation more than man.
This, whence to me returneth thy regard,
  The light is of a spirit unto whom
  In his grave meditations death seemed slow.
It is the light eternal of Sigier,
  Who, reading lectures in the Street of Straw,
  Did syllogize invidious verities."
Then, as a horologe that calleth us
  What time the Bride of God is rising up
  With matins to her Spouse that he may love her,
Wherein one part the other draws and urges,
  Ting! ting! resounding with so sweet a note,
  That swells with love the spirit well disposed,
Thus I beheld the glorious wheel move round,
  And render voice to voice, in modulation
  And sweetness that can not be comprehended,
Excepting there where joy is made eternal.
Paradiso: Canto XI
O Thou insensate care of mortal men,
  How inconclusive are the syllogisms
  That make thee beat thy wings in downward flight!
One after laws and one to aphorisms
  Was going, and one following the priesthood,
  And one to reign by force or sophistry,
And one in theft, and one in state affairs,
  One in the pleasures of the flesh involved
  Wearied himself, one gave himself to ease;
When I, from all these things emancipate,
  With Beatrice above there in the Heavens
  With such exceeding glory was received!
When each one had returned unto that point
  Within the circle where it was before,
  It stood as in a candlestick a candle;
And from within the effulgence which at first
  Had spoken unto me, I heard begin
  Smiling while it more luminous became:
"Even as I am kindled in its ray,
  So, looking into the Eternal Light,
  The occasion of thy thoughts I apprehend.
Thou doubtest, and wouldst have me to resift
  In language so extended and so open
  My speech, that to thy sense it may be plain,
Where just before I said, 'where well one fattens,'
  And where I said, 'there never rose a second;'
  And here 'tis needful we distinguish well.
The Providence, which governeth the world
  With counsel, wherein all created vision
  Is vanquished ere it reach unto the bottom,
(So that towards her own Beloved might go
  The bride of Him who, uttering a loud cry,
  Espoused her with his consecrated blood,
Self-confident and unto Him more faithful,)
  Two Princes did ordain in her behoof,
  Which on this side and that might be her guide.
The one was all seraphical in ardour;
  The other by his wisdom upon earth
  A splendour was of light cherubical.
One will I speak of, for of both is spoken
  In praising one, whichever may be taken,
  Because unto one end their labours were.
Between Tupino and the stream that falls
  Down from the hill elect of blessed Ubald,
  A fertile slope of lofty mountain hangs,
From which Perugia feels the cold and heat
  Through Porta Sole, and behind it weep
  Gualdo and Nocera their grievous yoke.
From out that slope, there where it breaketh most
  Its steepness, rose upon the world a sun
  As this one does sometimes from out the Ganges;
Therefore let him who speaketh of that place,
  Say not Ascesi, for he would say little,
  But Orient, if he properly would speak.
He was not yet far distant from his rising
  Before he had begun to make the earth
  Some comfort from his mighty virtue feel.
For he in youth his father's wrath incurred
  For certain Dame, to whom, as unto death,
  The gate of pleasure no one doth unlock;
And was before his spiritual court
  'Et coram patre' unto her united;
  Then day by day more fervently he loved her.
She, reft of her first husband, scorned, obscure,
  One thousand and one hundred years and more,
  Waited without a suitor till he came.
Naught it availed to hear, that with Amyclas
  Found her unmoved at sounding of his voice
  He who struck terror into all the world;
Naught it availed being constant and undaunted,
  So that, when Mary still remained below,
  She mounted up with Christ upon the cross.
But that too darkly I may not proceed,
  Francis and Poverty for these two lovers
  Take thou henceforward in my speech diffuse.
Their concord and their joyous semblances,
  The love, the wonder, and the sweet regard,
  They made to be the cause of holy thoughts;
So much so that the venerable Bernard
  First bared his feet, and after so great peace
  Ran, and, in running, thought himself too slow.
O wealth unknown!  O veritable good!
  Giles bares his feet, and bares his feet Sylvester
  Behind the bridegroom, so doth please the bride!
Then goes his way that father and that master,
  He and his Lady and that family
  Which now was girding on the humble cord;
Nor cowardice of heart weighed down his brow
  At being son of Peter Bernardone,
  Nor for appearing marvellously scorned;
But regally his hard determination
  To Innocent he opened, and from him
  Received the primal seal upon his Order.
After the people mendicant increased
  Behind this man, whose admirable life
  Better in glory of the heavens were sung,
Incoronated with a second crown
  Was through Honorius by the Eternal Spirit
  The holy purpose of this Archimandrite.
And when he had, through thirst of martyrdom,
  In the proud presence of the Sultan preached
  Christ and the others who came after him,
And, finding for conversion too unripe
  The folk, and not to tarry there in vain,
  Returned to fruit of the Italic grass,
On the rude rock 'twixt Tiber and the Arno
  From Christ did he receive the final seal,
  Which during two whole years his members bore.
When He, who chose him unto so much good,
  Was pleased to draw him up to the reward
  That he had merited by being lowly,
Unto his friars, as to the rightful heirs,
  His most dear Lady did he recommend,
  And bade that they should love her faithfully;
And from her bosom the illustrious soul
  Wished to depart, returning to its realm,
  And for its body wished no other bier.
Think now what man was he, who was a fit
  Companion over the high seas to keep
  The bark of Peter to its proper bearings.
And this man was our Patriarch; hence whoever
  Doth follow him as he commands can see
  That he is laden with good merchandise.
But for new pasturage his flock has grown
  So greedy, that it is impossible
  They be not scattered over fields diverse;
And in proportion as his sheep remote
  And vagabond go farther off from him,
  More void of milk return they to the fold.
Verily some there are that fear a hurt,
  And keep close to the shepherd; but so few,
  That little cloth doth furnish forth their hoods.
Now if my utterance be not indistinct,
  If thine own hearing hath attentive been,
  If thou recall to mind what I have said,
In part contented shall thy wishes be;
  For thou shalt see the plant that's chipped away,
  And the rebuke that lieth in the words,
'Where well one fattens, if he strayeth not.'"
Paradiso: Canto XII
Soon as the blessed flame had taken up
  The final word to give it utterance,
  Began the holy millstone to revolve,
And in its gyre had not turned wholly round,
  Before another in a ring enclosed it,
  And motion joined to motion, song to song;
Song that as greatly doth transcend our Muses,
  Our Sirens, in those dulcet clarions,
  As primal splendour that which is reflected.
And as are spanned athwart a tender cloud
  Two rainbows parallel and like in colour,
  When Juno to her handmaid gives command,
(The one without born of the one within,
  Like to the speaking of that vagrant one
  Whom love consumed as doth the sun the vapours,)
And make the people here, through covenant
  God set with Noah, presageful of the world
  That shall no more be covered with a flood,
In such wise of those sempiternal roses
  The garlands twain encompassed us about,
  And thus the outer to the inner answered.
After the dance, and other grand rejoicings,
  Both of the singing, and the flaming forth
  Effulgence with effulgence blithe and tender,
Together, at once, with one accord had stopped,
  (Even as the eyes, that, as volition moves them,
  Must needs together shut and lift themselves,)
Out of the heart of one of the new lights
  There came a voice, that needle to the star
  Made me appear in turning thitherward.
And it began: "The love that makes me fair
  Draws me to speak about the other leader,
  By whom so well is spoken here of mine.
'Tis right, where one is, to bring in the other,
  That, as they were united in their warfare,
  Together likewise may their glory shine.
The soldiery of Christ, which it had cost
  So dear to arm again, behind the standard
  Moved slow and doubtful and in numbers few,
When the Emperor who reigneth evermore
  Provided for the host that was in peril,
  Through grace alone and not that it was worthy;
And, as was said, he to his Bride brought succour
  With champions twain, at whose deed, at whose word
  The straggling people were together drawn.
Within that region where the sweet west wind
  Rises to open the new leaves, wherewith
  Europe is seen to clothe herself afresh,
Not far off from the beating of the waves,
  Behind which in his long career the sun
  Sometimes conceals himself from every man,
Is situate the fortunate Calahorra,
  Under protection of the mighty shield
  In which the Lion subject is and sovereign.
Therein was born the amorous paramour
  Of Christian Faith, the athlete consecrate,
  Kind to his own and cruel to his foes;
And when it was created was his mind
  Replete with such a living energy,
  That in his mother her it made prophetic.
As soon as the espousals were complete
  Between him and the Faith at holy font,
  Where they with mutual safety dowered each other,
The woman, who for him had given assent,
  Saw in a dream the admirable fruit
  That issue would from him and from his heirs;
And that he might be construed as he was,
  A spirit from this place went forth to name him
  With His possessive whose he wholly was.
Dominic was he called; and him I speak of
  Even as of the husbandman whom Christ
  Elected to his garden to assist him.
Envoy and servant sooth he seemed of Christ,
  For the first love made manifest in him
  Was the first counsel that was given by Christ.
Silent and wakeful many a time was he
  Discovered by his nurse upon the ground,
  As if he would have said, 'For this I came.'
O thou his father, Felix verily!
  O thou his mother, verily Joanna,
  If this, interpreted, means as is said!
Not for the world which people toil for now
  In following Ostiense and Taddeo,
  But through his longing after the true manna,
He in short time became so great a teacher,
  That he began to go about the vineyard,
  Which fadeth soon, if faithless be the dresser;
And of the See, (that once was more benignant
  Unto the righteous poor, not through itself,
  But him who sits there and degenerates,)
Not to dispense or two or three for six,
  Not any fortune of first vacancy,
  'Non decimas quae sunt pauperum Dei,'
He asked for, but against the errant world
  Permission to do battle for the seed,
  Of which these four and twenty plants surround thee.
Then with the doctrine and the will together,
  With office apostolical he moved,
  Like torrent which some lofty vein out-presses;
And in among the shoots heretical
  His impetus with greater fury smote,
  Wherever the resistance was the greatest.
Of him were made thereafter divers runnels,
  Whereby the garden catholic is watered,
  So that more living its plantations stand.
If such the one wheel of the Biga was,
  In which the Holy Church itself defended
  And in the field its civic battle won,
Truly full manifest should be to thee
  The excellence of the other, unto whom
  Thomas so courteous was before my coming.
But still the orbit, which the highest part
  Of its circumference made, is derelict,
  So that the mould is where was once the crust.
His family, that had straight forward moved
  With feet upon his footprints, are turned round
  So that they set the point upon the heel.
And soon aware they will be of the harvest
  Of this bad husbandry, when shall the tares
  Complain the granary is taken from them.
Yet say I, he who searcheth leaf by leaf
  Our volume through, would still some page discover
  Where he could read, 'I am as I am wont.'
'Twill not be from Casal nor Acquasparta,
  From whence come such unto the written word
  That one avoids it, and the other narrows.
Bonaventura of Bagnoregio's life
  Am I, who always in great offices
  Postponed considerations sinister.
Here are Illuminato and Agostino,
  Who of the first barefooted beggars were
  That with the cord the friends of God became.
Hugh of Saint Victor is among them here,
  And Peter Mangiador, and Peter of Spain,
  Who down below in volumes twelve is shining;
Nathan the seer, and metropolitan
  Chrysostom, and Anselmus, and Donatus
  Who deigned to lay his hand to the first art;
Here is Rabanus, and beside me here
  Shines the Calabrian Abbot Joachim,
  He with the spirit of prophecy endowed.
To celebrate so great a paladin
  Have moved me the impassioned courtesy
  And the discreet discourses of Friar Thomas,
And with me they have moved this company."
Paradiso: Canto XIII
Let him imagine, who would well conceive
  What now I saw, and let him while I speak
  Retain the image as a steadfast rock,
The fifteen stars, that in their divers regions
  The sky enliven with a light so great
  That it transcends all clusters of the air;
Let him the Wain imagine unto which
  Our vault of heaven sufficeth night and day,
  So that in turning of its pole it fails not;
Let him the mouth imagine of the horn
  That in the point beginneth of the axis
  Round about which the primal wheel revolves,--
To have fashioned of themselves two signs in heaven,
  Like unto that which Minos' daughter made,
  The moment when she felt the frost of death;
And one to have its rays within the other,
  And both to whirl themselves in such a manner
  That one should forward go, the other backward;
And he will have some shadowing forth of that
  True constellation and the double dance
  That circled round the point at which I was;
Because it is as much beyond our wont,
  As swifter than the motion of the Chiana
  Moveth the heaven that all the rest outspeeds.
There sang they neither Bacchus, nor Apollo,
  But in the divine nature Persons three,
  And in one person the divine and human.
The singing and the dance fulfilled their measure,
  And unto us those holy lights gave need,
  Growing in happiness from care to care.
Then broke the silence of those saints concordant
  The light in which the admirable life
  Of God's own mendicant was told to me,
And said: "Now that one straw is trodden out
  Now that its seed is garnered up already,
  Sweet love invites me to thresh out the other.
Into that bosom, thou believest, whence
  Was drawn the rib to form the beauteous cheek
  Whose taste to all the world is costing dear,
And into that which, by the lance transfixed,
  Before and since, such satisfaction made
  That it weighs down the balance of all sin,
Whate'er of light it has to human nature
  Been lawful to possess was all infused
  By the same power that both of them created;
And hence at what I said above dost wonder,
  When I narrated that no second had
  The good which in the fifth light is enclosed.
Now ope thine eyes to what I answer thee,
  And thou shalt see thy creed and my discourse
  Fit in the truth as centre in a circle.
That which can die, and that which dieth not,
  Are nothing but the splendour of the idea
  Which by his love our Lord brings into being;
Because that living Light, which from its fount
  Effulgent flows, so that it disunites not
  From Him nor from the Love in them intrined,
Through its own goodness reunites its rays
  In nine subsistences, as in a mirror,
  Itself eternally remaining One.
Thence it descends to the last potencies,
  Downward from act to act becoming such
  That only brief contingencies it makes;
And these contingencies I hold to be
  Things generated, which the heaven produces
  By its own motion, with seed and without.
Neither their wax, nor that which tempers it,
  Remains immutable, and hence beneath
  The ideal signet more and less shines through;
Therefore it happens, that the selfsame tree
  After its kind bears worse and better fruit,
  And ye are born with characters diverse.
If in perfection tempered were the wax,
  And were the heaven in its supremest virtue,
  The brilliance of the seal would all appear;
But nature gives it evermore deficient,
  In the like manner working as the artist,
  Who has the skill of art and hand that trembles.
If then the fervent Love, the Vision clear,
  Of primal Virtue do dispose and seal,
  Perfection absolute is there acquired.
Thus was of old the earth created worthy
  Of all and every animal perfection;
  And thus the Virgin was impregnate made;
So that thine own opinion I commend,
  That human nature never yet has been,
  Nor will be, what it was in those two persons.
Now if no farther forth I should proceed,
  'Then in what way was he without a peer?'
  Would be the first beginning of thy words.
But, that may well appear what now appears not,
  Think who he was, and what occasion moved him
  To make request, when it was told him, 'Ask.'
I've not so spoken that thou canst not see
  Clearly he was a king who asked for wisdom,
  That he might be sufficiently a king;
'Twas not to know the number in which are
  The motors here above, or if 'necesse'
  With a contingent e'er 'necesse' make,
'Non si est dare primum motum esse,'
  Or if in semicircle can be made
  Triangle so that it have no right angle.
Whence, if thou notest this and what I said,
  A regal prudence is that peerless seeing
  In which the shaft of my intention strikes.
And if on 'rose' thou turnest thy clear eyes,
  Thou'lt see that it has reference alone
  To kings who're many, and the good are rare.
With this distinction take thou what I said,
  And thus it can consist with thy belief
  Of the first father and of our Delight.
And lead shall this be always to thy feet,
  To make thee, like a weary man, move slowly
  Both to the Yes and No thou seest not;
For very low among the fools is he
  Who affirms without distinction, or denies,
  As well in one as in the other case;
Because it happens that full often bends
  Current opinion in the false direction,
  And then the feelings bind the intellect.
Far more than uselessly he leaves the shore,
  (Since he returneth not the same he went,)
  Who fishes for the truth, and has no skill;
And in the world proofs manifest thereof
  Parmenides, Melissus, Brissus are,
  And many who went on and knew not whither;
Thus did Sabellius, Arius, and those fools
  Who have been even as swords unto the Scriptures
  In rendering distorted their straight faces.
Nor yet shall people be too confident
  In judging, even as he is who doth count
  The corn in field or ever it be ripe.
For I have seen all winter long the thorn
  First show itself intractable and fierce,
  And after bear the rose upon its top;
And I have seen a ship direct and swift
  Run o'er the sea throughout its course entire,
  To perish at the harbour's mouth at last.
Let not Dame Bertha nor Ser Martin think,
  Seeing one steal, another offering make,
  To see them in the arbitrament divine;
For one may rise, and fall the other may."
Paradiso: Canto XIV
From centre unto rim, from rim to centre,
  In a round vase the water moves itself,
  As from without 'tis struck or from within.
Into my mind upon a sudden dropped
  What I am saying, at the moment when
  Silent became the glorious life of Thomas,
Because of the resemblance that was born
  Of his discourse and that of Beatrice,
  Whom, after him, it pleased thus to begin:
"This man has need (and does not tell you so,
  Nor with the voice, nor even in his thought)
  Of going to the root of one truth more.
Declare unto him if the light wherewith
  Blossoms your substance shall remain with you
  Eternally the same that it is now;
And if it do remain, say in what manner,
  After ye are again made visible,
  It can be that it injure not your sight."
As by a greater gladness urged and drawn
  They who are dancing in a ring sometimes
  Uplift their voices and their motions quicken;
So, at that orison devout and prompt,
  The holy circles a new joy displayed
  In their revolving and their wondrous song.
Whoso lamenteth him that here we die
  That we may live above, has never there
  Seen the refreshment of the eternal rain.
The One and Two and Three who ever liveth,
  And reigneth ever in Three and Two and One,
  Not circumscribed and all things circumscribing,
Three several times was chanted by each one
  Among those spirits, with such melody
  That for all merit it were just reward;
And, in the lustre most divine of all
  The lesser ring, I heard a modest voice,
  Such as perhaps the Angel's was to Mary,
Answer: "As long as the festivity
  Of Paradise shall be, so long our love
  Shall radiate round about us such a vesture.
Its brightness is proportioned to the ardour,
  The ardour to the vision; and the vision
  Equals what grace it has above its worth.
When, glorious and sanctified, our flesh
  Is reassumed, then shall our persons be
  More pleasing by their being all complete;
For will increase whate'er bestows on us
  Of light gratuitous the Good Supreme,
  Light which enables us to look on Him;
Therefore the vision must perforce increase,
  Increase the ardour which from that is kindled,
  Increase the radiance which from this proceeds.
But even as a coal that sends forth flame,
  And by its vivid whiteness overpowers it
  So that its own appearance it maintains,
Thus the effulgence that surrounds us now
  Shall be o'erpowered in aspect by the flesh,
  Which still to-day the earth doth cover up;
Nor can so great a splendour weary us,
  For strong will be the organs of the body
  To everything which hath the power to please us."
So sudden and alert appeared to me
  Both one and the other choir to say Amen,
  That well they showed desire for their dead bodies;
Nor sole for them perhaps, but for the mothers,
  The fathers, and the rest who had been dear
  Or ever they became eternal flames.
And lo! all round about of equal brightness
  Arose a lustre over what was there,
  Like an horizon that is clearing up.
And as at rise of early eve begin
  Along the welkin new appearances,
  So that the sight seems real and unreal,
It seemed to me that new subsistences
  Began there to be seen, and make a circle
  Outside the other two circumferences.
O very sparkling of the Holy Spirit,
  How sudden and incandescent it became
  Unto mine eyes, that vanquished bore it not!
But Beatrice so beautiful and smiling
  Appeared to me, that with the other sights
  That followed not my memory I must leave her.
Then to uplift themselves mine eyes resumed
  The power, and I beheld myself translated
  To higher salvation with my Lady only.
Well was I ware that I was more uplifted
  By the enkindled smiling of the star,
  That seemed to me more ruddy than its wont.
With all my heart, and in that dialect
  Which is the same in all, such holocaust
  To God I made as the new grace beseemed;
And not yet from my bosom was exhausted
  The ardour of sacrifice, before I knew
  This offering was accepted and auspicious;
For with so great a lustre and so red
  Splendours appeared to me in twofold rays,
  I said: "O Helios who dost so adorn them!"
Even as distinct with less and greater lights
  Glimmers between the two poles of the world
  The Galaxy that maketh wise men doubt,
Thus constellated in the depths of Mars,
  Those rays described the venerable sign
  That quadrants joining in a circle make.
Here doth my memory overcome my genius;
  For on that cross as levin gleamed forth Christ,
  So that I cannot find ensample worthy;
But he who takes his cross and follows Christ
  Again will pardon me what I omit,
  Seeing in that aurora lighten Christ.
From horn to horn, and 'twixt the top and base,
  Lights were in motion, brightly scintillating
  As they together met and passed each other;
Thus level and aslant and swift and slow
  We here behold, renewing still the sight,
  The particles of bodies long and short,
Across the sunbeam move, wherewith is listed
  Sometimes the shade, which for their own defence
  People with cunning and with art contrive.
And as a lute and harp, accordant strung
  With many strings, a dulcet tinkling make
  To him by whom the notes are not distinguished,
So from the lights that there to me appeared
  Upgathered through the cross a melody,
  Which rapt me, not distinguishing the hymn.
Well was I ware it was of lofty laud,
  Because there came to me, "Arise and conquer!"
  As unto him who hears and comprehends not.
So much enamoured I became therewith,
  That until then there was not anything
  That e'er had fettered me with such sweet bonds.
Perhaps my word appears somewhat too bold,
  Postponing the delight of those fair eyes,
  Into which gazing my desire has rest;
But who bethinks him that the living seals
  Of every beauty grow in power ascending,
  And that I there had not turned round to those,
Can me excuse, if I myself accuse
  To excuse myself, and see that I speak truly:
  For here the holy joy is not disclosed,
Because ascending it becomes more pure.
Paradiso: Canto XV
A will benign, in which reveals itself
  Ever the love that righteously inspires,
  As in the iniquitous, cupidity,
Silence imposed upon that dulcet lyre,
  And quieted the consecrated chords,
  That Heaven's right hand doth tighten and relax.
How unto just entreaties shall be deaf
  Those substances, which, to give me desire
  Of praying them, with one accord grew silent?
'Tis well that without end he should lament,
  Who for the love of thing that doth not last
  Eternally despoils him of that love!
As through the pure and tranquil evening air
  There shoots from time to time a sudden fire,
  Moving the eyes that steadfast were before,
And seems to be a star that changeth place,
  Except that in the part where it is kindled
  Nothing is missed, and this endureth little;
So from the horn that to the right extends
  Unto that cross's foot there ran a star
  Out of the constellation shining there;
Nor was the gem dissevered from its ribbon,
  But down the radiant fillet ran along,
  So that fire seemed it behind alabaster.
Thus piteous did Anchises' shade reach forward,
  If any faith our greatest Muse deserve,
  When in Elysium he his son perceived.
"O sanguis meus, O superinfusa
  Gratia Dei, sicut tibi, cui
  Bis unquam Coeli janua reclusa?"
Thus that effulgence; whence I gave it heed;
  Then round unto my Lady turned my sight,
  And on this side and that was stupefied;
For in her eyes was burning such a smile
  That with mine own methought I touched the bottom
  Both of my grace and of my Paradise!
Then, pleasant to the hearing and the sight,
  The spirit joined to its beginning things
  I understood not, so profound it spake;
Nor did it hide itself from me by choice,
  But by necessity; for its conception
  Above the mark of mortals set itself.
And when the bow of burning sympathy
  Was so far slackened, that its speech descended
  Towards the mark of our intelligence,
The first thing that was understood by me
  Was "Benedight be Thou, O Trine and One,
  Who hast unto my seed so courteous been!"
And it continued: "Hunger long and grateful,
  Drawn from the reading of the mighty volume
  Wherein is never changed the white nor dark,
Thou hast appeased, my son, within this light
  In which I speak to thee, by grace of her
  Who to this lofty flight with plumage clothed thee.
Thou thinkest that to me thy thought doth pass
  From Him who is the first, as from the unit,
  If that be known, ray out the five and six;
And therefore who I am thou askest not,
  And why I seem more joyous unto thee
  Than any other of this gladsome crowd.
Thou think'st the truth; because the small and great
  Of this existence look into the mirror
  Wherein, before thou think'st, thy thought thou showest.
But that the sacred love, in which I watch
  With sight perpetual, and which makes me thirst
  With sweet desire, may better be fulfilled,
Now let thy voice secure and frank and glad
  Proclaim the wishes, the desire proclaim,
  To which my answer is decreed already."
To Beatrice I turned me, and she heard
  Before I spake, and smiled to me a sign,
  That made the wings of my desire increase;
Then in this wise began I: "Love and knowledge,
  When on you dawned the first Equality,
  Of the same weight for each of you became;
For in the Sun, which lighted you and burned
  With heat and radiance, they so equal are,
  That all similitudes are insufficient.
But among mortals will and argument,
  For reason that to you is manifest,
  Diversely feathered in their pinions are.
Whence I, who mortal am, feel in myself
  This inequality; so give not thanks,
  Save in my heart, for this paternal welcome.
Truly do I entreat thee, living topaz!
  Set in this precious jewel as a gem,
  That thou wilt satisfy me with thy name."
"O leaf of mine, in whom I pleasure took
  E'en while awaiting, I was thine own root!"
  Such a beginning he in answer made me.
Then said to me: "That one from whom is named
  Thy race, and who a hundred years and more
  Has circled round the mount on the first cornice,
A son of mine and thy great-grandsire was;
  Well it behoves thee that the long fatigue
  Thou shouldst for him make shorter with thy works.
Florence, within the ancient boundary
  From which she taketh still her tierce and nones,
  Abode in quiet, temperate and chaste.
No golden chain she had, nor coronal,
  Nor ladies shod with sandal shoon, nor girdle
  That caught the eye more than the person did.
Not yet the daughter at her birth struck fear
  Into the father, for the time and dower
  Did not o'errun this side or that the measure.
No houses had she void of families,
  Not yet had thither come Sardanapalus
  To show what in a chamber can be done;
Not yet surpassed had Montemalo been
  By your Uccellatojo, which surpassed
  Shall in its downfall be as in its rise.
Bellincion Berti saw I go begirt
  With leather and with bone, and from the mirror
  His dame depart without a painted face;
And him of Nerli saw, and him of Vecchio,
  Contented with their simple suits of buff
  And with the spindle and the flax their dames.
O fortunate women! and each one was certain
  Of her own burial-place, and none as yet
  For sake of France was in her bed deserted.
One o'er the cradle kept her studious watch,
  And in her lullaby the language used
  That first delights the fathers and the mothers;
Another, drawing tresses from her distaff,
  Told o'er among her family the tales
  Of Trojans and of Fesole and Rome.
As great a marvel then would have been held
  A Lapo Salterello, a Cianghella,
  As Cincinnatus or Cornelia now.
To such a quiet, such a beautiful
  Life of the citizen, to such a safe
  Community, and to so sweet an inn,
Did Mary give me, with loud cries invoked,
  And in your ancient Baptistery at once
  Christian and Cacciaguida I became.
Moronto was my brother, and Eliseo;
  From Val di Pado came to me my wife,
  And from that place thy surname was derived.
I followed afterward the Emperor Conrad,
  And he begirt me of his chivalry,
  So much I pleased him with my noble deeds.
I followed in his train against that law's
  Iniquity, whose people doth usurp
  Your just possession, through your Pastor's fault.
There by that execrable race was I
  Released from bonds of the fallacious world,
  The love of which defileth many souls,
And came from martyrdom unto this peace."
Paradiso: Canto XVI
O thou our poor nobility of blood,
  If thou dost make the people glory in thee
  Down here where our affection languishes,
A marvellous thing it ne'er will be to me;
  For there where appetite is not perverted,
  I say in Heaven, of thee I made a boast!
Truly thou art a cloak that quickly shortens,
  So that unless we piece thee day by day
  Time goeth round about thee with his shears!
With 'You,' which Rome was first to tolerate,
  (Wherein her family less perseveres,)
  Yet once again my words beginning made;
Whence Beatrice, who stood somewhat apart,
  Smiling, appeared like unto her who coughed
  At the first failing writ of Guenever.
And I began: "You are my ancestor,
  You give to me all hardihood to speak,
  You lift me so that I am more than I.
So many rivulets with gladness fill
  My mind, that of itself it makes a joy
  Because it can endure this and not burst.
Then tell me, my beloved root ancestral,
  Who were your ancestors, and what the years
  That in your boyhood chronicled themselves?
Tell me about the sheepfold of Saint John,
  How large it was, and who the people were
  Within it worthy of the highest seats."
As at the blowing of the winds a coal
  Quickens to flame, so I beheld that light
  Become resplendent at my blandishments.
And as unto mine eyes it grew more fair,
  With voice more sweet and tender, but not in
  This modern dialect, it said to me:
"From uttering of the 'Ave,' till the birth
  In which my mother, who is now a saint,
  Of me was lightened who had been her burden,
Unto its Lion had this fire returned
  Five hundred fifty times and thirty more,
  To reinflame itself beneath his paw.
My ancestors and I our birthplace had
  Where first is found the last ward of the city
  By him who runneth in your annual game.
Suffice it of my elders to hear this;
  But who they were, and whence they thither came,
  Silence is more considerate than speech.
All those who at that time were there between
  Mars and the Baptist, fit for bearing arms,
  Were a fifth part of those who now are living;
But the community, that now is mixed
  With Campi and Certaldo and Figghine,
  Pure in the lowest artisan was seen.
O how much better 'twere to have as neighbours
  The folk of whom I speak, and at Galluzzo
  And at Trespiano have your boundary,
Than have them in the town, and bear the stench
  Of Aguglione's churl, and him of Signa
  Who has sharp eyes for trickery already.
Had not the folk, which most of all the world
  Degenerates, been a step-dame unto Caesar,
  But as a mother to her son benignant,
Some who turn Florentines, and trade and discount,
  Would have gone back again to Simifonte
  There where their grandsires went about as beggars.
At Montemurlo still would be the Counts,
  The Cerchi in the parish of Acone,
  Perhaps in Valdigrieve the Buondelmonti.
Ever the intermingling of the people
  Has been the source of malady in cities,
  As in the body food it surfeits on;
And a blind bull more headlong plunges down
  Than a blind lamb; and very often cuts
  Better and more a single sword than five.
If Luni thou regard, and Urbisaglia,
  How they have passed away, and how are passing
  Chiusi and Sinigaglia after them,
To hear how races waste themselves away,
  Will seem to thee no novel thing nor hard,
  Seeing that even cities have an end.
All things of yours have their mortality,
  Even as yourselves; but it is hidden in some
  That a long while endure, and lives are short;
And as the turning of the lunar heaven
  Covers and bares the shores without a pause,
  In the like manner fortune does with Florence.
Therefore should not appear a marvellous thing
  What I shall say of the great Florentines
  Of whom the fame is hidden in the Past.
I saw the Ughi, saw the Catellini,
  Filippi, Greci, Ormanni, and Alberichi,
  Even in their fall illustrious citizens;
And saw, as mighty as they ancient were,
  With him of La Sannella him of Arca,
  And Soldanier, Ardinghi, and Bostichi.
Near to the gate that is at present laden
  With a new felony of so much weight
  That soon it shall be jetsam from the bark,
The Ravignani were, from whom descended
  The County Guido, and whoe'er the name
  Of the great Bellincione since hath taken.
He of La Pressa knew the art of ruling
  Already, and already Galigajo
  Had hilt and pommel gilded in his house.
Mighty already was the Column Vair,
  Sacchetti, Giuochi, Fifant, and Barucci,
  And Galli, and they who for the bushel blush.
The stock from which were the Calfucci born
  Was great already, and already chosen
  To curule chairs the Sizii and Arrigucci.
O how beheld I those who are undone
  By their own pride! and how the Balls of Gold
  Florence enflowered in all their mighty deeds!
So likewise did the ancestors of those
  Who evermore, when vacant is your church,
  Fatten by staying in consistory.
The insolent race, that like a dragon follows
  Whoever flees, and unto him that shows
  His teeth or purse is gentle as a lamb,
Already rising was, but from low people;
  So that it pleased not Ubertin Donato
  That his wife's father should make him their kin.
Already had Caponsacco to the Market
  From Fesole descended, and already
  Giuda and Infangato were good burghers.
I'll tell a thing incredible, but true;
  One entered the small circuit by a gate
  Which from the Della Pera took its name!
Each one that bears the beautiful escutcheon
  Of the great baron whose renown and name
  The festival of Thomas keepeth fresh,
Knighthood and privilege from him received;
  Though with the populace unites himself
  To-day the man who binds it with a border.
Already were Gualterotti and Importuni;
  And still more quiet would the Borgo be
  If with new neighbours it remained unfed.
The house from which is born your lamentation,
  Through just disdain that death among you brought
  And put an end unto your joyous life,
Was honoured in itself and its companions.
  O Buondelmonte, how in evil hour
  Thou fled'st the bridal at another's promptings!
Many would be rejoicing who are sad,
  If God had thee surrendered to the Ema
  The first time that thou camest to the city.
But it behoved the mutilated stone
  Which guards the bridge, that Florence should provide
  A victim in her latest hour of peace.
With all these families, and others with them,
  Florence beheld I in so great repose,
  That no occasion had she whence to weep;
With all these families beheld so just
  And glorious her people, that the lily
  Never upon the spear was placed reversed,
Nor by division was vermilion made."
Paradiso: Canto XVII
As came to Clymene, to be made certain
  Of that which he had heard against himself,
  He who makes fathers chary still to children,
Even such was I, and such was I perceived
  By Beatrice and by the holy light
  That first on my account had changed its place.
Therefore my Lady said to me: "Send forth
  The flame of thy desire, so that it issue
  Imprinted well with the internal stamp;
Not that our knowledge may be greater made
  By speech of thine, but to accustom thee
  To tell thy thirst, that we may give thee drink."
"O my beloved tree, (that so dost lift thee,
  That even as minds terrestrial perceive
  No triangle containeth two obtuse,
So thou beholdest the contingent things
  Ere in themselves they are, fixing thine eyes
  Upon the point in which all times are present,)
While I was with Virgilius conjoined
  Upon the mountain that the souls doth heal,
  And when descending into the dead world,
Were spoken to me of my future life
  Some grievous words; although I feel myself
  In sooth foursquare against the blows of chance.
On this account my wish would be content
  To hear what fortune is approaching me,
  Because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly."
Thus did I say unto that selfsame light
  That unto me had spoken before; and even
  As Beatrice willed was my own will confessed.
Not in vague phrase, in which the foolish folk
  Ensnared themselves of old, ere yet was slain
  The Lamb of God who taketh sins away,
But with clear words and unambiguous
  Language responded that paternal love,
  Hid and revealed by its own proper smile:
"Contingency, that outside of the volume
  Of your materiality extends not,
  Is all depicted in the eternal aspect.
Necessity however thence it takes not,
  Except as from the eye, in which 'tis mirrored,
  A ship that with the current down descends.
From thence, e'en as there cometh to the ear
  Sweet harmony from an organ, comes in sight
  To me the time that is preparing for thee.
As forth from Athens went Hippolytus,
  By reason of his step-dame false and cruel,
  So thou from Florence must perforce depart.
Already this is willed, and this is sought for;
  And soon it shall be done by him who thinks it,
  Where every day the Christ is bought and sold.
The blame shall follow the offended party
  In outcry as is usual; but the vengeance
  Shall witness to the truth that doth dispense it.
Thou shalt abandon everything beloved
  Most tenderly, and this the arrow is
  Which first the bow of banishment shoots forth.
Thou shalt have proof how savoureth of salt
  The bread of others, and how hard a road
  The going down and up another's stairs.
And that which most shall weigh upon thy shoulders
  Will be the bad and foolish company
  With which into this valley thou shalt fall;
For all ingrate, all mad and impious
  Will they become against thee; but soon after
  They, and not thou, shall have the forehead scarlet.
Of their bestiality their own proceedings
  Shall furnish proof; so 'twill be well for thee
  A party to have made thee by thyself.
Thine earliest refuge and thine earliest inn
  Shall be the mighty Lombard's courtesy,
  Who on the Ladder bears the holy bird,
Who such benign regard shall have for thee
  That 'twixt you twain, in doing and in asking,
  That shall be first which is with others last.
With him shalt thou see one who at his birth
  Has by this star of strength been so impressed,
  That notable shall his achievements be.
Not yet the people are aware of him
  Through his young age, since only nine years yet
  Around about him have these wheels revolved.
But ere the Gascon cheat the noble Henry,
  Some sparkles of his virtue shall appear
  In caring not for silver nor for toil.
So recognized shall his magnificence
  Become hereafter, that his enemies
  Will not have power to keep mute tongues about it.
On him rely, and on his benefits;
  By him shall many people be transformed,
  Changing condition rich and mendicant;
And written in thy mind thou hence shalt bear
  Of him, but shalt not say it"--and things said he
  Incredible to those who shall be present.
Then added: "Son, these are the commentaries
  On what was said to thee; behold the snares
  That are concealed behind few revolutions;
Yet would I not thy neighbours thou shouldst envy,
  Because thy life into the future reaches
  Beyond the punishment of their perfidies."
When by its silence showed that sainted soul
  That it had finished putting in the woof
  Into that web which I had given it warped,
Began I, even as he who yearneth after,
  Being in doubt, some counsel from a person
  Who seeth, and uprightly wills, and loves:
"Well see I, father mine, how spurreth on
  The time towards me such a blow to deal me
  As heaviest is to him who most gives way.
Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me,
  That, if the dearest place be taken from me,
  I may not lose the others by my songs.
Down through the world of infinite bitterness,
  And o'er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit
  The eyes of my own Lady lifted me,
And afterward through heaven from light to light,
  I have learned that which, if I tell again,
  Will be a savour of strong herbs to many.
And if I am a timid friend to truth,
  I fear lest I may lose my life with those
  Who will hereafter call this time the olden."
The light in which was smiling my own treasure
  Which there I had discovered, flashed at first
  As in the sunshine doth a golden mirror;
Then made reply: "A conscience overcast
  Or with its own or with another's shame,
  Will taste forsooth the tartness of thy word;
But ne'ertheless, all falsehood laid aside,
  Make manifest thy vision utterly,
  And let them scratch wherever is the itch;
For if thine utterance shall offensive be
  At the first taste, a vital nutriment
  'Twill leave thereafter, when it is digested.
This cry of thine shall do as doth the wind,
  Which smiteth most the most exalted summits,
  And that is no slight argument of honour.
Therefore are shown to thee within these wheels,
  Upon the mount and in the dolorous valley,
  Only the souls that unto fame are known;
Because the spirit of the hearer rests not,
  Nor doth confirm its faith by an example
  Which has the root of it unknown and hidden,
Or other reason that is not apparent."
Paradiso: Canto XVIII
Now was alone rejoicing in its word
  That soul beatified, and I was tasting
  My own, the bitter tempering with the sweet,
And the Lady who to God was leading me
  Said: "Change thy thought; consider that I am
  Near unto Him who every wrong disburdens."
Unto the loving accents of my comfort
  I turned me round, and then what love I saw
  Within those holy eyes I here relinquish;
Not only that my language I distrust,
  But that my mind cannot return so far
  Above itself, unless another guide it.
Thus much upon that point can I repeat,
  That, her again beholding, my affection
  From every other longing was released.
While the eternal pleasure, which direct
  Rayed upon Beatrice, from her fair face
  Contented me with its reflected aspect,
Conquering me with the radiance of a smile,
  She said to me, "Turn thee about and listen;
  Not in mine eyes alone is Paradise."
Even as sometimes here do we behold
  The affection in the look, if it be such
  That all the soul is wrapt away by it,
So, by the flaming of the effulgence holy
  To which I turned, I recognized therein
  The wish of speaking to me somewhat farther.
And it began: "In this fifth resting-place
  Upon the tree that liveth by its summit,
  And aye bears fruit, and never loses leaf,
Are blessed spirits that below, ere yet
  They came to Heaven, were of such great renown
  That every Muse therewith would affluent be.
Therefore look thou upon the cross's horns;
  He whom I now shall name will there enact
  What doth within a cloud its own swift fire."
I saw athwart the Cross a splendour drawn
  By naming Joshua, (even as he did it,)
  Nor noted I the word before the deed;
And at the name of the great Maccabee
  I saw another move itself revolving,
  And gladness was the whip unto that top.
Likewise for Charlemagne and for Orlando,
  Two of them my regard attentive followed
  As followeth the eye its falcon flying.
William thereafterward, and Renouard,
  And the Duke Godfrey, did attract my sight
  Along upon that Cross, and Robert Guiscard.
Then, moved and mingled with the other lights,
  The soul that had addressed me showed how great
  An artist 'twas among the heavenly singers.
To my right side I turned myself around,
  My duty to behold in Beatrice
  Either by words or gesture signified;
And so translucent I beheld her eyes,
  So full of pleasure, that her countenance
  Surpassed its other and its latest wont.
And as, by feeling greater delectation,
  A man in doing good from day to day
  Becomes aware his virtue is increasing,
So I became aware that my gyration
  With heaven together had increased its arc,
  That miracle beholding more adorned.
And such as is the change, in little lapse
  Of time, in a pale woman, when her face
  Is from the load of bashfulness unladen,
Such was it in mine eyes, when I had turned,
  Caused by the whiteness of the temperate star,
  The sixth, which to itself had gathered me.
Within that Jovial torch did I behold
  The sparkling of the love which was therein
  Delineate our language to mine eyes.
And even as birds uprisen from the shore,
  As in congratulation o'er their food,
  Make squadrons of themselves, now round, now long,
So from within those lights the holy creatures
  Sang flying to and fro, and in their figures
  Made of themselves now D, now I, now L.
First singing they to their own music moved;
  Then one becoming of these characters,
  A little while they rested and were silent.
O divine Pegasea, thou who genius
  Dost glorious make, and render it long-lived,
  And this through thee the cities and the kingdoms,
Illume me with thyself, that I may bring
  Their figures out as I have them conceived!
  Apparent be thy power in these brief verses!
Themselves then they displayed in five times seven
  Vowels and consonants; and I observed
  The parts as they seemed spoken unto me.
'Diligite justitiam,' these were
  First verb and noun of all that was depicted;
  'Qui judicatis terram' were the last.
Thereafter in the M of the fifth word
  Remained they so arranged, that Jupiter
  Seemed to be silver there with gold inlaid.
And other lights I saw descend where was
  The summit of the M, and pause there singing
  The good, I think, that draws them to itself.
Then, as in striking upon burning logs
  Upward there fly innumerable sparks,
  Whence fools are wont to look for auguries,
More than a thousand lights seemed thence to rise,
  And to ascend, some more, and others less,
  Even as the Sun that lights them had allotted;
And, each one being quiet in its place,
  The head and neck beheld I of an eagle
  Delineated by that inlaid fire.
He who there paints has none to be his guide;
  But Himself guides; and is from Him remembered
  That virtue which is form unto the nest.
The other beatitude, that contented seemed
  At first to bloom a lily on the M,
  By a slight motion followed out the imprint.
O gentle star! what and how many gems
  Did demonstrate to me, that all our justice
  Effect is of that heaven which thou ingemmest!
Wherefore I pray the Mind, in which begin
  Thy motion and thy virtue, to regard
  Whence comes the smoke that vitiates thy rays;
So that a second time it now be wroth
  With buying and with selling in the temple
  Whose walls were built with signs and martyrdoms!
O soldiery of heaven, whom I contemplate,
  Implore for those who are upon the earth
  All gone astray after the bad example!
Once 'twas the custom to make war with swords;
  But now 'tis made by taking here and there
  The bread the pitying Father shuts from none.
Yet thou, who writest but to cancel, think
  That Peter and that Paul, who for this vineyard
  Which thou art spoiling died, are still alive!
Well canst thou say: "So steadfast my desire
  Is unto him who willed to live alone,
  And for a dance was led to martyrdom,
That I know not the Fisherman nor Paul."
Paradiso: Canto XIX
Appeared before me with its wings outspread
  The beautiful image that in sweet fruition
  Made jubilant the interwoven souls;
Appeared a little ruby each, wherein
  Ray of the sun was burning so enkindled
  That each into mine eyes refracted it.
And what it now behoves me to retrace
  Nor voice has e'er reported, nor ink written,
  Nor was by fantasy e'er comprehended;
For speak I saw, and likewise heard, the beak,
  And utter with its voice both 'I' and 'My,'
  When in conception it was 'We' and 'Our.'
And it began: "Being just and merciful
  Am I exalted here unto that glory
  Which cannot be exceeded by desire;
And upon earth I left my memory
  Such, that the evil-minded people there
  Commend it, but continue not the story."
So doth a single heat from many embers
  Make itself felt, even as from many loves
  Issued a single sound from out that image.
Whence I thereafter: "O perpetual flowers
  Of the eternal joy, that only one
  Make me perceive your odours manifold,
Exhaling, break within me the great fast
  Which a long season has in hunger held me,
  Not finding for it any food on earth.
Well do I know, that if in heaven its mirror
  Justice Divine another realm doth make,
  Yours apprehends it not through any veil.
You know how I attentively address me
  To listen; and you know what is the doubt
  That is in me so very old a fast."
Even as a falcon, issuing from his hood,
  Doth move his head, and with his wings applaud him,
  Showing desire, and making himself fine,
Saw I become that standard, which of lauds
  Was interwoven of the grace divine,
  With such songs as he knows who there rejoices.
Then it began: "He who a compass turned
  On the world's outer verge, and who within it
  Devised so much occult and manifest,
Could not the impress of his power so make
  On all the universe, as that his Word
  Should not remain in infinite excess.
And this makes certain that the first proud being,
  Who was the paragon of every creature,
  By not awaiting light fell immature.
And hence appears it, that each minor nature
  Is scant receptacle unto that good
  Which has no end, and by itself is measured.
In consequence our vision, which perforce
  Must be some ray of that intelligence
  With which all things whatever are replete,
Cannot in its own nature be so potent,
  That it shall not its origin discern
  Far beyond that which is apparent to it.
Therefore into the justice sempiternal
  The power of vision that your world receives,
  As eye into the ocean, penetrates;
Which, though it see the bottom near the shore,
  Upon the deep perceives it not, and yet
  'Tis there, but it is hidden by the depth.
There is no light but comes from the serene
  That never is o'ercast, nay, it is darkness
  Or shadow of the flesh, or else its poison.
Amply to thee is opened now the cavern
  Which has concealed from thee the living justice
  Of which thou mad'st such frequent questioning.
For saidst thou: 'Born a man is on the shore
  Of Indus, and is none who there can speak
  Of Christ, nor who can read, nor who can write;
And all his inclinations and his actions
  Are good, so far as human reason sees,
  Without a sin in life or in discourse:
He dieth unbaptised and without faith;
  Where is this justice that condemneth him?
  Where is his fault, if he do not believe?'
Now who art thou, that on the bench wouldst sit
  In judgment at a thousand miles away,
  With the short vision of a single span?
Truly to him who with me subtilizes,
  If so the Scripture were not over you,
  For doubting there were marvellous occasion.
O animals terrene, O stolid minds,
  The primal will, that in itself is good,
  Ne'er from itself, the Good Supreme, has moved.
So much is just as is accordant with it;
  No good created draws it to itself,
  But it, by raying forth, occasions that."
Even as above her nest goes circling round
  The stork when she has fed her little ones,
  And he who has been fed looks up at her,
So lifted I my brows, and even such
  Became the blessed image, which its wings
  Was moving, by so many counsels urged.
Circling around it sang, and said: "As are
  My notes to thee, who dost not comprehend them,
  Such is the eternal judgment to you mortals."
Those lucent splendours of the Holy Spirit
  Grew quiet then, but still within the standard
  That made the Romans reverend to the world.
It recommenced: "Unto this kingdom never
  Ascended one who had not faith in Christ,
  Before or since he to the tree was nailed.
But look thou, many crying are, 'Christ, Christ!'
  Who at the judgment shall be far less near
  To him than some shall be who knew not Christ.
Such Christians shall the Ethiop condemn,
  When the two companies shall be divided,
  The one for ever rich, the other poor.
What to your kings may not the Persians say,
  When they that volume opened shall behold
  In which are written down all their dispraises?
There shall be seen, among the deeds of Albert,
  That which ere long shall set the pen in motion,
  For which the realm of Prague shall be deserted.
There shall be seen the woe that on the Seine
  He brings by falsifying of the coin,
  Who by the blow of a wild boar shall die.
There shall be seen the pride that causes thirst,
  Which makes the Scot and Englishman so mad
  That they within their boundaries cannot rest;
Be seen the luxury and effeminate life
  Of him of Spain, and the Bohemian,
  Who valour never knew and never wished;
Be seen the Cripple of Jerusalem,
  His goodness represented by an I,
  While the reverse an M shall represent;
Be seen the avarice and poltroonery
  Of him who guards the Island of the Fire,
  Wherein Anchises finished his long life;
And to declare how pitiful he is
  Shall be his record in contracted letters
  Which shall make note of much in little space.
And shall appear to each one the foul deeds
  Of uncle and of brother who a nation
  So famous have dishonoured, and two crowns.
And he of Portugal and he of Norway
  Shall there be known, and he of Rascia too,
  Who saw in evil hour the coin of Venice.
O happy Hungary, if she let herself
  Be wronged no farther! and Navarre the happy,
  If with the hills that gird her she be armed!
And each one may believe that now, as hansel
  Thereof, do Nicosia and Famagosta
  Lament and rage because of their own beast,
Who from the others' flank departeth not."
Paradiso: Canto XX
When he who all the world illuminates
  Out of our hemisphere so far descends
  That on all sides the daylight is consumed,
The heaven, that erst by him alone was kindled,
  Doth suddenly reveal itself again
  By many lights, wherein is one resplendent.
And came into my mind this act of heaven,
  When the ensign of the world and of its leaders
  Had silent in the blessed beak become;
Because those living luminaries all,
  By far more luminous, did songs begin
  Lapsing and falling from my memory.
O gentle Love, that with a smile dost cloak thee,
  How ardent in those sparks didst thou appear,
  That had the breath alone of holy thoughts!
After the precious and pellucid crystals,
  With which begemmed the sixth light I beheld,
  Silence imposed on the angelic bells,
I seemed to hear the murmuring of a river
  That clear descendeth down from rock to rock,
  Showing the affluence of its mountain-top.
And as the sound upon the cithern's neck
  Taketh its form, and as upon the vent
  Of rustic pipe the wind that enters it,
Even thus, relieved from the delay of waiting,
  That murmuring of the eagle mounted up
  Along its neck, as if it had been hollow.
There it became a voice, and issued thence
  From out its beak, in such a form of words
  As the heart waited for wherein I wrote them.
"The part in me which sees and bears the sun
  In mortal eagles," it began to me,
  "Now fixedly must needs be looked upon;
For of the fires of which I make my figure,
  Those whence the eye doth sparkle in my head
  Of all their orders the supremest are.
He who is shining in the midst as pupil
  Was once the singer of the Holy Spirit,
  Who bore the ark from city unto city;
Now knoweth he the merit of his song,
  In so far as effect of his own counsel,
  By the reward which is commensurate.
Of five, that make a circle for my brow,
  He that approacheth nearest to my beak
  Did the poor widow for her son console;
Now knoweth he how dearly it doth cost
  Not following Christ, by the experience
  Of this sweet life and of its opposite.
He who comes next in the circumference
  Of which I speak, upon its highest arc,
  Did death postpone by penitence sincere;
Now knoweth he that the eternal judgment
  Suffers no change, albeit worthy prayer
  Maketh below to-morrow of to-day.
The next who follows, with the laws and me,
  Under the good intent that bore bad fruit
  Became a Greek by ceding to the pastor;
Now knoweth he how all the ill deduced
  From his good action is not harmful to him,
  Although the world thereby may be destroyed.
And he, whom in the downward arc thou seest,
  Guglielmo was, whom the same land deplores
  That weepeth Charles and Frederick yet alive;
Now knoweth he how heaven enamoured is
  With a just king; and in the outward show
  Of his effulgence he reveals it still.
Who would believe, down in the errant world,
  That e'er the Trojan Ripheus in this round
  Could be the fifth one of the holy lights?
Now knoweth he enough of what the world
  Has not the power to see of grace divine,
  Although his sight may not discern the bottom."
Like as a lark that in the air expatiates,
  First singing and then silent with content
  Of the last sweetness that doth satisfy her,
Such seemed to me the image of the imprint
  Of the eternal pleasure, by whose will
  Doth everything become the thing it is.
And notwithstanding to my doubt I was
  As glass is to the colour that invests it,
  To wait the time in silence it endured not,
But forth from out my mouth, "What things are these?"
  Extorted with the force of its own weight;
  Whereat I saw great joy of coruscation.
Thereafterward with eye still more enkindled
  The blessed standard made to me reply,
  To keep me not in wonderment suspended:
"I see that thou believest in these things
  Because I say them, but thou seest not how;
  So that, although believed in, they are hidden.
Thou doest as he doth who a thing by name
  Well apprehendeth, but its quiddity
  Cannot perceive, unless another show it.
'Regnum coelorum' suffereth violence
  From fervent love, and from that living hope
  That overcometh the Divine volition;
Not in the guise that man o'ercometh man,
  But conquers it because it will be conquered,
  And conquered conquers by benignity.
The first life of the eyebrow and the fifth
  Cause thee astonishment, because with them
  Thou seest the region of the angels painted.
They passed not from their bodies, as thou thinkest,
  Gentiles, but Christians in the steadfast faith
  Of feet that were to suffer and had suffered.
For one from Hell, where no one e'er turns back
  Unto good will, returned unto his bones,
  And that of living hope was the reward,--
Of living hope, that placed its efficacy
  In prayers to God made to resuscitate him,
  So that 'twere possible to move his will.
The glorious soul concerning which I speak,
  Returning to the flesh, where brief its stay,
  Believed in Him who had the power to aid it;
And, in believing, kindled to such fire
  Of genuine love, that at the second death
  Worthy it was to come unto this joy.
The other one, through grace, that from so deep
  A fountain wells that never hath the eye
  Of any creature reached its primal wave,
Set all his love below on righteousness;
  Wherefore from grace to grace did God unclose
  His eye to our redemption yet to be,
Whence he believed therein, and suffered not
  From that day forth the stench of paganism,
  And he reproved therefor the folk perverse.
Those Maidens three, whom at the right-hand wheel
  Thou didst behold, were unto him for baptism
  More than a thousand years before baptizing.
O thou predestination, how remote
  Thy root is from the aspect of all those
  Who the First Cause do not behold entire!
And you, O mortals! hold yourselves restrained
  In judging; for ourselves, who look on God,
  We do not know as yet all the elect;
And sweet to us is such a deprivation,
  Because our good in this good is made perfect,
  That whatsoe'er God wills, we also will."
After this manner by that shape divine,
  To make clear in me my short-sightedness,
  Was given to me a pleasant medicine;
And as good singer a good lutanist
  Accompanies with vibrations of the chords,
  Whereby more pleasantness the song acquires,
So, while it spake, do I remember me
  That I beheld both of those blessed lights,
  Even as the winking of the eyes concords,
Moving unto the words their little flames.
Paradiso: Canto XXI
Already on my Lady's face mine eyes
  Again were fastened, and with these my mind,
  And from all other purpose was withdrawn;
And she smiled not; but "If I were to smile,"
  She unto me began, "thou wouldst become
  Like Semele, when she was turned to ashes.
Because my beauty, that along the stairs
  Of the eternal palace more enkindles,
  As thou hast seen, the farther we ascend,
If it were tempered not, is so resplendent
  That all thy mortal power in its effulgence
  Would seem a leaflet that the thunder crushes.
We are uplifted to the seventh splendour,
  That underneath the burning Lion's breast
  Now radiates downward mingled with his power.
Fix in direction of thine eyes the mind,
  And make of them a mirror for the figure
  That in this mirror shall appear to thee."
He who could know what was the pasturage
  My sight had in that blessed countenance,
  When I transferred me to another care,
Would recognize how grateful was to me
  Obedience unto my celestial escort,
  By counterpoising one side with the other.
Within the crystal which, around the world
  Revolving, bears the name of its dear leader,
  Under whom every wickedness lay dead,
Coloured like gold, on which the sunshine gleams,
  A stairway I beheld to such a height
  Uplifted, that mine eye pursued it not.
Likewise beheld I down the steps descending
  So many splendours, that I thought each light
  That in the heaven appears was there diffused.
And as accordant with their natural custom
  The rooks together at the break of day
  Bestir themselves to warm their feathers cold;
Then some of them fly off without return,
  Others come back to where they started from,
  And others, wheeling round, still keep at home;
Such fashion it appeared to me was there
  Within the sparkling that together came,
  As soon as on a certain step it struck,
And that which nearest unto us remained
  Became so clear, that in my thought I said,
  "Well I perceive the love thou showest me;
But she, from whom I wait the how and when
  Of speech and silence, standeth still; whence I
  Against desire do well if I ask not."
She thereupon, who saw my silentness
  In the sight of Him who seeth everything,
  Said unto me, "Let loose thy warm desire."
And I began: "No merit of my own
  Renders me worthy of response from thee;
  But for her sake who granteth me the asking,
Thou blessed life that dost remain concealed
  In thy beatitude, make known to me
  The cause which draweth thee so near my side;
And tell me why is silent in this wheel
  The dulcet symphony of Paradise,
  That through the rest below sounds so devoutly."
"Thou hast thy hearing mortal as thy sight,"
  It answer made to me; "they sing not here,
  For the same cause that Beatrice has not smiled.
Thus far adown the holy stairway's steps
  Have I descended but to give thee welcome
  With words, and with the light that mantles me;
Nor did more love cause me to be more ready,
  For love as much and more up there is burning,
  As doth the flaming manifest to thee.
But the high charity, that makes us servants
  Prompt to the counsel which controls the world,
  Allotteth here, even as thou dost observe."
"I see full well," said I, "O sacred lamp!
  How love unfettered in this court sufficeth
  To follow the eternal Providence;
But this is what seems hard for me to see,
  Wherefore predestinate wast thou alone
  Unto this office from among thy consorts."
No sooner had I come to the last word,
  Than of its middle made the light a centre,
  Whirling itself about like a swift millstone.
When answer made the love that was therein:
  "On me directed is a light divine,
  Piercing through this in which I am embosomed,
Of which the virtue with my sight conjoined
  Lifts me above myself so far, I see
  The supreme essence from which this is drawn.
Hence comes the joyfulness with which I flame,
  For to my sight, as far as it is clear,
  The clearness of the flame I equal make.
But that soul in the heaven which is most pure,
  That seraph which his eye on God most fixes,
  Could this demand of thine not satisfy;
Because so deeply sinks in the abyss
  Of the eternal statute what thou askest,
  From all created sight it is cut off.
And to the mortal world, when thou returnest,
  This carry back, that it may not presume
  Longer tow'rd such a goal to move its feet.
The mind, that shineth here, on earth doth smoke;
  From this observe how can it do below
  That which it cannot though the heaven assume it?"
Such limit did its words prescribe to me,
  The question I relinquished, and restricted
  Myself to ask it humbly who it was.
"Between two shores of Italy rise cliffs,
  And not far distant from thy native place,
  So high, the thunders far below them sound,
And form a ridge that Catria is called,
  'Neath which is consecrate a hermitage
  Wont to be dedicate to worship only."
Thus unto me the third speech recommenced,
  And then, continuing, it said: "Therein
  Unto God's service I became so steadfast,
That feeding only on the juice of olives
  Lightly I passed away the heats and frosts,
  Contented in my thoughts contemplative.
That cloister used to render to these heavens
  Abundantly, and now is empty grown,
  So that perforce it soon must be revealed.
I in that place was Peter Damiano;
  And Peter the Sinner was I in the house
  Of Our Lady on the Adriatic shore.
Little of mortal life remained to me,
  When I was called and dragged forth to the hat
  Which shifteth evermore from bad to worse.
Came Cephas, and the mighty Vessel came
  Of the Holy Spirit, meagre and barefooted,
  Taking the food of any hostelry.
Now some one to support them on each side
  The modern shepherds need, and some to lead them,
  So heavy are they, and to hold their trains.
They cover up their palfreys with their cloaks,
  So that two beasts go underneath one skin;
  O Patience, that dost tolerate so much!"
At this voice saw I many little flames
  From step to step descending and revolving,
  And every revolution made them fairer.
Round about this one came they and stood still,
  And a cry uttered of so loud a sound,
  It here could find no parallel, nor I
Distinguished it, the thunder so o'ercame me.
Paradiso: Canto XXII
Oppressed with stupor, I unto my guide
  Turned like a little child who always runs
  For refuge there where he confideth most;
And she, even as a mother who straightway
  Gives comfort to her pale and breathless boy
  With voice whose wont it is to reassure him,
Said to me: "Knowest thou not thou art in heaven,
  And knowest thou not that heaven is holy all
  And what is done here cometh from good zeal?
After what wise the singing would have changed thee
  And I by smiling, thou canst now imagine,
  Since that the cry has startled thee so much,
In which if thou hadst understood its prayers
  Already would be known to thee the vengeance
  Which thou shalt look upon before thou diest.
The sword above here smiteth not in haste
  Nor tardily, howe'er it seem to him
  Who fearing or desiring waits for it.
But turn thee round towards the others now,
  For very illustrious spirits shalt thou see,
  If thou thy sight directest as I say."
As it seemed good to her mine eyes I turned,
  And saw a hundred spherules that together
  With mutual rays each other more embellished.
I stood as one who in himself represses
  The point of his desire, and ventures not
  To question, he so feareth the too much.
And now the largest and most luculent
  Among those pearls came forward, that it might
  Make my desire concerning it content.
Within it then I heard: "If thou couldst see
  Even as myself the charity that burns
  Among us, thy conceits would be expressed;
But, that by waiting thou mayst not come late
  To the high end, I will make answer even
  Unto the thought of which thou art so chary.
That mountain on whose slope Cassino stands
  Was frequented of old upon its summit
  By a deluded folk and ill-disposed;
And I am he who first up thither bore
  The name of Him who brought upon the earth
  The truth that so much sublimateth us.
And such abundant grace upon me shone
  That all the neighbouring towns I drew away
  From the impious worship that seduced the world.
These other fires, each one of them, were men
  Contemplative, enkindled by that heat
  Which maketh holy flowers and fruits spring up.
Here is Macarius, here is Romualdus,
  Here are my brethren, who within the cloisters
  Their footsteps stayed and kept a steadfast heart."
And I to him: "The affection which thou showest
  Speaking with me, and the good countenance
  Which I behold and note in all your ardours,
In me have so my confidence dilated
  As the sun doth the rose, when it becomes
  As far unfolded as it hath the power.
Therefore I pray, and thou assure me, father,
  If I may so much grace receive, that I
  May thee behold with countenance unveiled."
He thereupon: "Brother, thy high desire
  In the remotest sphere shall be fulfilled,
  Where are fulfilled all others and my own.
There perfect is, and ripened, and complete,
  Every desire; within that one alone
  Is every part where it has always been;
For it is not in space, nor turns on poles,
  And unto it our stairway reaches up,
  Whence thus from out thy sight it steals away.
Up to that height the Patriarch Jacob saw it
  Extending its supernal part, what time
  So thronged with angels it appeared to him.
But to ascend it now no one uplifts
  His feet from off the earth, and now my Rule
  Below remaineth for mere waste of paper.
The walls that used of old to be an Abbey
  Are changed to dens of robbers, and the cowls
  Are sacks filled full of miserable flour.
But heavy usury is not taken up
  So much against God's pleasure as that fruit
  Which maketh so insane the heart of monks;
For whatsoever hath the Church in keeping
  Is for the folk that ask it in God's name,
  Not for one's kindred or for something worse.
The flesh of mortals is so very soft,
  That good beginnings down below suffice not
  From springing of the oak to bearing acorns.
Peter began with neither gold nor silver,
  And I with orison and abstinence,
  And Francis with humility his convent.
And if thou lookest at each one's beginning,
  And then regardest whither he has run,
  Thou shalt behold the white changed into brown.
In verity the Jordan backward turned,
  And the sea's fleeing, when God willed were more
  A wonder to behold, than succour here."
Thus unto me he said; and then withdrew
  To his own band, and the band closed together;
  Then like a whirlwind all was upward rapt.
The gentle Lady urged me on behind them
  Up o'er that stairway by a single sign,
  So did her virtue overcome my nature;
Nor here below, where one goes up and down
  By natural law, was motion e'er so swift
  That it could be compared unto my wing.
Reader, as I may unto that devout
  Triumph return, on whose account I often
  For my transgressions weep and beat my breast,--
Thou hadst not thrust thy finger in the fire
  And drawn it out again, before I saw
  The sign that follows Taurus, and was in it.
O glorious stars, O light impregnated
  With mighty virtue, from which I acknowledge
  All of my genius, whatsoe'er it be,
With you was born, and hid himself with you,
  He who is father of all mortal life,
  When first I tasted of the Tuscan air;
And then when grace was freely given to me
  To enter the high wheel which turns you round,
  Your region was allotted unto me.
To you devoutly at this hour my soul
  Is sighing, that it virtue may acquire
  For the stern pass that draws it to itself.
"Thou art so near unto the last salvation,"
  Thus Beatrice began, "thou oughtest now
  To have thine eves unclouded and acute;
And therefore, ere thou enter farther in,
  Look down once more, and see how vast a world
  Thou hast already put beneath thy feet;
So that thy heart, as jocund as it may,
  Present itself to the triumphant throng
  That comes rejoicing through this rounded ether."
I with my sight returned through one and all
  The sevenfold spheres, and I beheld this globe
  Such that I smiled at its ignoble semblance;
And that opinion I approve as best
  Which doth account it least; and he who thinks
  Of something else may truly be called just.
I saw the daughter of Latona shining
  Without that shadow, which to me was cause
  That once I had believed her rare and dense.
The aspect of thy son, Hyperion,
  Here I sustained, and saw how move themselves
  Around and near him Maia and Dione.
Thence there appeared the temperateness of Jove
  'Twixt son and father, and to me was clear
  The change that of their whereabout they make;
And all the seven made manifest to me
  How great they are, and eke how swift they are,
  And how they are in distant habitations.
The threshing-floor that maketh us so proud,
  To me revolving with the eternal Twins,
  Was all apparent made from hill to harbour!
Then to the beauteous eyes mine eyes I turned.
Paradiso: Canto XXIII
Even as a bird, 'mid the beloved leaves,
  Quiet upon the nest of her sweet brood
  Throughout the night, that hideth all things from us,
Who, that she may behold their longed-for looks
  And find the food wherewith to nourish them,
  In which, to her, grave labours grateful are,
Anticipates the time on open spray
  And with an ardent longing waits the sun,
  Gazing intent as soon as breaks the dawn:
Even thus my Lady standing was, erect
  And vigilant, turned round towards the zone
  Underneath which the sun displays less haste;
So that beholding her distraught and wistful,
  Such I became as he is who desiring
  For something yearns, and hoping is appeased.
But brief the space from one When to the other;
  Of my awaiting, say I, and the seeing
  The welkin grow resplendent more and more.
And Beatrice exclaimed: "Behold the hosts
  Of Christ's triumphal march, and all the fruit
  Harvested by the rolling of these spheres!"
It seemed to me her face was all aflame;
  And eyes she had so full of ecstasy
  That I must needs pass on without describing.
As when in nights serene of the full moon
  Smiles Trivia among the nymphs eternal
  Who paint the firmament through all its gulfs,
Saw I, above the myriads of lamps,
  A Sun that one and all of them enkindled,
  E'en as our own doth the supernal sights,
And through the living light transparent shone
  The lucent substance so intensely clear
  Into my sight, that I sustained it not.
O Beatrice, thou gentle guide and dear!
  To me she said: "What overmasters thee
  A virtue is from which naught shields itself.
There are the wisdom and the omnipotence
  That oped the thoroughfares 'twixt heaven and earth,
  For which there erst had been so long a yearning."
As fire from out a cloud unlocks itself,
  Dilating so it finds not room therein,
  And down, against its nature, falls to earth,
So did my mind, among those aliments
  Becoming larger, issue from itself,
  And that which it became cannot remember.
"Open thine eyes, and look at what I am:
  Thou hast beheld such things, that strong enough
  Hast thou become to tolerate my smile."
I was as one who still retains the feeling
  Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours
  In vain to bring it back into his mind,
When I this invitation heard, deserving
  Of so much gratitude, it never fades
  Out of the book that chronicles the past.
If at this moment sounded all the tongues
  That Polyhymnia and her sisters made
  Most lubrical with their delicious milk,
To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth
  It would not reach, singing the holy smile
  And how the holy aspect it illumed.
And therefore, representing Paradise,
  The sacred poem must perforce leap over,
  Even as a man who finds his way cut off;
But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme,
  And of the mortal shoulder laden with it,
  Should blame it not, if under this it tremble.
It is no passage for a little boat
  This which goes cleaving the audacious prow,
  Nor for a pilot who would spare himself.
"Why doth my face so much enamour thee,
  That to the garden fair thou turnest not,
  Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming?
There is the Rose in which the Word Divine
  Became incarnate; there the lilies are
  By whose perfume the good way was discovered."
Thus Beatrice; and I, who to her counsels
  Was wholly ready, once again betook me
  Unto the battle of the feeble brows.
As in the sunshine, that unsullied streams
  Through fractured cloud, ere now a meadow of flowers
  Mine eyes with shadow covered o'er have seen,
So troops of splendours manifold I saw
  Illumined from above with burning rays,
  Beholding not the source of the effulgence.
O power benignant that dost so imprint them!
  Thou didst exalt thyself to give more scope
  There to mine eyes, that were not strong enough.
The name of that fair flower I e'er invoke
  Morning and evening utterly enthralled
  My soul to gaze upon the greater fire.
And when in both mine eyes depicted were
  The glory and greatness of the living star
  Which there excelleth, as it here excelled,
Athwart the heavens a little torch descended
  Formed in a circle like a coronal,
  And cinctured it, and whirled itself about it.
Whatever melody most sweetly soundeth
  On earth, and to itself most draws the soul,
  Would seem a cloud that, rent asunder, thunders,
Compared unto the sounding of that lyre
  Wherewith was crowned the sapphire beautiful,
  Which gives the clearest heaven its sapphire hue.
"I am Angelic Love, that circle round
  The joy sublime which breathes from out the womb
  That was the hostelry of our Desire;
And I shall circle, Lady of Heaven, while
  Thou followest thy Son, and mak'st diviner
  The sphere supreme, because thou enterest there."
Thus did the circulated melody
  Seal itself up; and all the other lights
  Were making to resound the name of Mary.
The regal mantle of the volumes all
  Of that world, which most fervid is and living
  With breath of God and with his works and ways,
Extended over us its inner border,
  So very distant, that the semblance of it
  There where I was not yet appeared to me.
Therefore mine eyes did not possess the power
  Of following the incoronated flame,
  Which mounted upward near to its own seed.
And as a little child, that towards its mother
  Stretches its arms, when it the milk has taken,
  Through impulse kindled into outward flame,
Each of those gleams of whiteness upward reached
  So with its summit, that the deep affection
  They had for Mary was revealed to me.
Thereafter they remained there in my sight,
  'Regina coeli' singing with such sweetness,
  That ne'er from me has the delight departed.
O, what exuberance is garnered up
  Within those richest coffers, which had been
  Good husbandmen for sowing here below!
There they enjoy and live upon the treasure
  Which was acquired while weeping in the exile
  Of Babylon, wherein the gold was left.
There triumpheth, beneath the exalted Son
  Of God and Mary, in his victory,
  Both with the ancient council and the new,
He who doth keep the keys of such a glory.
Paradiso: Canto XXIV
"O company elect to the great supper
  Of the Lamb benedight, who feedeth you
  So that for ever full is your desire,
If by the grace of God this man foretaste
  Something of that which falleth from your table,
  Or ever death prescribe to him the time,
Direct your mind to his immense desire,
  And him somewhat bedew; ye drinking are
  For ever at the fount whence comes his thought."
Thus Beatrice; and those souls beatified
  Transformed themselves to spheres on steadfast poles,
  Flaming intensely in the guise of comets.
And as the wheels in works of horologes
  Revolve so that the first to the beholder
  Motionless seems, and the last one to fly,
So in like manner did those carols, dancing
  In different measure, of their affluence
  Give me the gauge, as they were swift or slow.
From that one which I noted of most beauty
  Beheld I issue forth a fire so happy
  That none it left there of a greater brightness;
And around Beatrice three several times
  It whirled itself with so divine a song,
  My fantasy repeats it not to me;
Therefore the pen skips, and I write it not,
  Since our imagination for such folds,
  Much more our speech, is of a tint too glaring.
"O holy sister mine, who us implorest
  With such devotion, by thine ardent love
  Thou dost unbind me from that beautiful sphere!"
Thereafter, having stopped, the blessed fire
  Unto my Lady did direct its breath,
  Which spake in fashion as I here have said.
And she: "O light eterne of the great man
  To whom our Lord delivered up the keys
  He carried down of this miraculous joy,
This one examine on points light and grave,
  As good beseemeth thee, about the Faith
  By means of which thou on the sea didst walk.
If he love well, and hope well, and believe,
  From thee 'tis hid not; for thou hast thy sight
  There where depicted everything is seen.
But since this kingdom has made citizens
  By means of the true Faith, to glorify it
  'Tis well he have the chance to speak thereof."
As baccalaureate arms himself, and speaks not
  Until the master doth propose the question,
  To argue it, and not to terminate it,
So did I arm myself with every reason,
  While she was speaking, that I might be ready
  For such a questioner and such profession.
"Say, thou good Christian; manifest thyself;
  What is the Faith?"  Whereat I raised my brow
  Unto that light wherefrom was this breathed forth.
Then turned I round to Beatrice, and she
  Prompt signals made to me that I should pour
  The water forth from my internal fountain.
"May grace, that suffers me to make confession,"
  Began I, "to the great centurion,
  Cause my conceptions all to be explicit!"
And I continued: "As the truthful pen,
  Father, of thy dear brother wrote of it,
  Who put with thee Rome into the good way,
Faith is the substance of the things we hope for,
  And evidence of those that are not seen;
  And this appears to me its quiddity."
Then heard I: "Very rightly thou perceivest,
  If well thou understandest why he placed it
  With substances and then with evidences."
And I thereafterward: "The things profound,
  That here vouchsafe to me their apparition,
  Unto all eyes below are so concealed,
That they exist there only in belief,
  Upon the which is founded the high hope,
  And hence it takes the nature of a substance.
And it behoveth us from this belief
  To reason without having other sight,
  And hence it has the nature of evidence."
Then heard I: "If whatever is acquired
  Below by doctrine were thus understood,
  No sophist's subtlety would there find place."
Thus was breathed forth from that enkindled love;
  Then added: "Very well has been gone over
  Already of this coin the alloy and weight;
But tell me if thou hast it in thy purse?"
  And I: "Yes, both so shining and so round
  That in its stamp there is no peradventure."
Thereafter issued from the light profound
  That there resplendent was: "This precious jewel,
  Upon the which is every virtue founded,
Whence hadst thou it?"  And I: "The large outpouring
  Of Holy Spirit, which has been diffused
  Upon the ancient parchments and the new,
A syllogism is, which proved it to me
  With such acuteness, that, compared therewith,
  All demonstration seems to me obtuse."
And then I heard: "The ancient and the new
  Postulates, that to thee are so conclusive,
  Why dost thou take them for the word divine?"
And I: "The proofs, which show the truth to me,
  Are the works subsequent, whereunto Nature
  Ne'er heated iron yet, nor anvil beat."
'Twas answered me: "Say, who assureth thee
  That those works ever were? the thing itself
  That must be proved, nought else to thee affirms it."
"Were the world to Christianity converted,"
  I said, "withouten miracles, this one
  Is such, the rest are not its hundredth part;
Because that poor and fasting thou didst enter
  Into the field to sow there the good plant,
  Which was a vine and has become a thorn!"
This being finished, the high, holy Court
  Resounded through the spheres, "One God we praise!"
  In melody that there above is chanted.
And then that Baron, who from branch to branch,
  Examining, had thus conducted me,
  Till the extremest leaves we were approaching,
Again began: "The Grace that dallying
  Plays with thine intellect thy mouth has opened,
  Up to this point, as it should opened be,
So that I do approve what forth emerged;
  But now thou must express what thou believest,
  And whence to thy belief it was presented."
"O holy father, spirit who beholdest
  What thou believedst so that thou o'ercamest,
  Towards the sepulchre, more youthful feet,"
Began I, "thou dost wish me in this place
  The form to manifest of my prompt belief,
  And likewise thou the cause thereof demandest.
And I respond: In one God I believe,
  Sole and eterne, who moveth all the heavens
  With love and with desire, himself unmoved;
And of such faith not only have I proofs
  Physical and metaphysical, but gives them
  Likewise the truth that from this place rains down
Through Moses, through the Prophets and the Psalms,
  Through the Evangel, and through you, who wrote
  After the fiery Spirit sanctified you;
In Persons three eterne believe, and these
  One essence I believe, so one and trine
  They bear conjunction both with 'sunt' and 'est.'
With the profound condition and divine
  Which now I touch upon, doth stamp my mind
  Ofttimes the doctrine evangelical.
This the beginning is, this is the spark
  Which afterwards dilates to vivid flame,
  And, like a star in heaven, is sparkling in me."
Even as a lord who hears what pleaseth him
  His servant straight embraces, gratulating
  For the good news as soon as he is silent;
So, giving me its benediction, singing,
  Three times encircled me, when I was silent,
  The apostolic light, at whose command
I spoken had, in speaking I so pleased him.
Paradiso: Canto XXV
If e'er it happen that the Poem Sacred,
  To which both heaven and earth have set their hand,
  So that it many a year hath made me lean,
O'ercome the cruelty that bars me out
  From the fair sheepfold, where a lamb I slumbered,
  An enemy to the wolves that war upon it,
With other voice forthwith, with other fleece
  Poet will I return, and at my font
  Baptismal will I take the laurel crown;
Because into the Faith that maketh known
  All souls to God there entered I, and then
  Peter for her sake thus my brow encircled.
Thereafterward towards us moved a light
  Out of that band whence issued the first-fruits
  Which of his vicars Christ behind him left,
And then my Lady, full of ecstasy,
  Said unto me: "Look, look! behold the Baron
  For whom below Galicia is frequented."
In the same way as, when a dove alights
  Near his companion, both of them pour forth,
  Circling about and murmuring, their affection,
So one beheld I by the other grand
  Prince glorified to be with welcome greeted,
  Lauding the food that there above is eaten.
But when their gratulations were complete,
  Silently 'coram me' each one stood still,
  So incandescent it o'ercame my sight.
Smiling thereafterwards, said Beatrice:
  "Illustrious life, by whom the benefactions
  Of our Basilica have been described,
Make Hope resound within this altitude;
  Thou knowest as oft thou dost personify it
  As Jesus to the three gave greater clearness."--
"Lift up thy head, and make thyself assured;
  For what comes hither from the mortal world
  Must needs be ripened in our radiance."
This comfort came to me from the second fire;
  Wherefore mine eyes I lifted to the hills,
  Which bent them down before with too great weight.
"Since, through his grace, our Emperor wills that thou
  Shouldst find thee face to face, before thy death,
  In the most secret chamber, with his Counts,
So that, the truth beholden of this court,
  Hope, which below there rightfully enamours,
  Thereby thou strengthen in thyself and others,
Say what it is, and how is flowering with it
  Thy mind, and say from whence it came to thee."
  Thus did the second light again continue.
And the Compassionate, who piloted
  The plumage of my wings in such high flight,
  Did in reply anticipate me thus:
"No child whatever the Church Militant
  Of greater hope possesses, as is written
  In that Sun which irradiates all our band;
Therefore it is conceded him from Egypt
  To come into Jerusalem to see,
  Or ever yet his warfare be completed.
The two remaining points, that not for knowledge
  Have been demanded, but that he report
  How much this virtue unto thee is pleasing,
To him I leave; for hard he will not find them,
  Nor of self-praise; and let him answer them;
  And may the grace of God in this assist him!"
As a disciple, who his teacher follows,
  Ready and willing, where he is expert,
  That his proficiency may be displayed,
"Hope," said I, "is the certain expectation
  Of future glory, which is the effect
  Of grace divine and merit precedent.
From many stars this light comes unto me;
  But he instilled it first into my heart
  Who was chief singer unto the chief captain.
'Sperent in te,' in the high Theody
  He sayeth, 'those who know thy name;' and who
  Knoweth it not, if he my faith possess?
Thou didst instil me, then, with his instilling
  In the Epistle, so that I am full,
  And upon others rain again your rain."
While I was speaking, in the living bosom
  Of that combustion quivered an effulgence,
  Sudden and frequent, in the guise of lightning;
Then breathed: "The love wherewith I am inflamed
  Towards the virtue still which followed me
  Unto the palm and issue of the field,
Wills that I breathe to thee that thou delight
  In her; and grateful to me is thy telling
  Whatever things Hope promises to thee."
And I: "The ancient Scriptures and the new
  The mark establish, and this shows it me,
  Of all the souls whom God hath made his friends.
Isaiah saith, that each one garmented
  In his own land shall be with twofold garments,
  And his own land is this delightful life.
Thy brother, too, far more explicitly,
  There where he treateth of the robes of white,
  This revelation manifests to us."
And first, and near the ending of these words,
  "Sperent in te" from over us was heard,
  To which responsive answered all the carols.
Thereafterward a light among them brightened,
  So that, if Cancer one such crystal had,
  Winter would have a month of one sole day.
And as uprises, goes, and enters the dance
  A winsome maiden, only to do honour
  To the new bride, and not from any failing,
Even thus did I behold the brightened splendour
  Approach the two, who in a wheel revolved
  As was beseeming to their ardent love.
Into the song and music there it entered;
  And fixed on them my Lady kept her look,
  Even as a bride silent and motionless.
"This is the one who lay upon the breast
  Of him our Pelican; and this is he
  To the great office from the cross elected."
My Lady thus; but therefore none the more
  Did move her sight from its attentive gaze
  Before or afterward these words of hers.
Even as a man who gazes, and endeavours
  To see the eclipsing of the sun a little,
  And who, by seeing, sightless doth become,
So I became before that latest fire,
  While it was said, "Why dost thou daze thyself
  To see a thing which here hath no existence?
Earth in the earth my body is, and shall be
  With all the others there, until our number
  With the eternal proposition tallies.
With the two garments in the blessed cloister
  Are the two lights alone that have ascended:
  And this shalt thou take back into your world."
And at this utterance the flaming circle
  Grew quiet, with the dulcet intermingling
  Of sound that by the trinal breath was made,
As to escape from danger or fatigue
  The oars that erst were in the water beaten
  Are all suspended at a whistle's sound.
Ah, how much in my mind was I disturbed,
  When I turned round to look on Beatrice,
  That her I could not see, although I was
Close at her side and in the Happy World!
Paradiso: Canto XXVI
While I was doubting for my vision quenched,
  Out of the flame refulgent that had quenched it
  Issued a breathing, that attentive made me,
Saying: "While thou recoverest the sense
  Of seeing which in me thou hast consumed,
  'Tis well that speaking thou shouldst compensate it.
Begin then, and declare to what thy soul
  Is aimed, and count it for a certainty,
  Sight is in thee bewildered and not dead;
Because the Lady, who through this divine
  Region conducteth thee, has in her look
  The power the hand of Ananias had."
I said: "As pleaseth her, or soon or late
  Let the cure come to eyes that portals were
  When she with fire I ever burn with entered.
The Good, that gives contentment to this Court,
  The Alpha and Omega is of all
  The writing that love reads me low or loud."
The selfsame voice, that taken had from me
  The terror of the sudden dazzlement,
  To speak still farther put it in my thought;
And said: "In verity with finer sieve
  Behoveth thee to sift; thee it behoveth
  To say who aimed thy bow at such a target."
And I: "By philosophic arguments,
  And by authority that hence descends,
  Such love must needs imprint itself in me;
For Good, so far as good, when comprehended
  Doth straight enkindle love, and so much greater
  As more of goodness in itself it holds;
Then to that Essence (whose is such advantage
  That every good which out of it is found
  Is nothing but a ray of its own light)
More than elsewhither must the mind be moved
  Of every one, in loving, who discerns
  The truth in which this evidence is founded.
Such truth he to my intellect reveals
  Who demonstrates to me the primal love
  Of all the sempiternal substances.
The voice reveals it of the truthful Author,
  Who says to Moses, speaking of Himself,
  'I will make all my goodness pass before thee.'
Thou too revealest it to me, beginning
  The loud Evangel, that proclaims the secret
  Of heaven to earth above all other edict."
And I heard say: "By human intellect
  And by authority concordant with it,
  Of all thy loves reserve for God the highest.
But say again if other cords thou feelest,
  Draw thee towards Him, that thou mayst proclaim
  With how many teeth this love is biting thee."
The holy purpose of the Eagle of Christ
  Not latent was, nay, rather I perceived
  Whither he fain would my profession lead.
Therefore I recommenced: "All of those bites
  Which have the power to turn the heart to God
  Unto my charity have been concurrent.
The being of the world, and my own being,
  The death which He endured that I may live,
  And that which all the faithful hope, as I do,
With the forementioned vivid consciousness
  Have drawn me from the sea of love perverse,
  And of the right have placed me on the shore.
The leaves, wherewith embowered is all the garden
  Of the Eternal Gardener, do I love
  As much as he has granted them of good."
As soon as I had ceased, a song most sweet
  Throughout the heaven resounded, and my Lady
  Said with the others, "Holy, holy, holy!"
And as at some keen light one wakes from sleep
  By reason of the visual spirit that runs
  Unto the splendour passed from coat to coat,
And he who wakes abhorreth what he sees,
  So all unconscious is his sudden waking,
  Until the judgment cometh to his aid,
So from before mine eyes did Beatrice
  Chase every mote with radiance of her own,
  That cast its light a thousand miles and more.
Whence better after than before I saw,
  And in a kind of wonderment I asked
  About a fourth light that I saw with us.
And said my Lady: "There within those rays
  Gazes upon its Maker the first soul
  That ever the first virtue did create."
Even as the bough that downward bends its top
  At transit of the wind, and then is lifted
  By its own virtue, which inclines it upward,
Likewise did I, the while that she was speaking,
  Being amazed, and then I was made bold
  By a desire to speak wherewith I burned.
And I began: "O apple, that mature
  Alone hast been produced, O ancient father,
  To whom each wife is daughter and daughter-in-law,
Devoutly as I can I supplicate thee
  That thou wouldst speak to me; thou seest my wish;
  And I, to hear thee quickly, speak it not."
Sometimes an animal, when covered, struggles
  So that his impulse needs must be apparent,
  By reason of the wrappage following it;
And in like manner the primeval soul
  Made clear to me athwart its covering
  How jubilant it was to give me pleasure.
Then breathed: "Without thy uttering it to me,
  Thine inclination better I discern
  Than thou whatever thing is surest to thee;
For I behold it in the truthful mirror,
  That of Himself all things parhelion makes,
  And none makes Him parhelion of itself.
Thou fain wouldst hear how long ago God placed me
  Within the lofty garden, where this Lady
  Unto so long a stairway thee disposed.
And how long to mine eyes it was a pleasure,
  And of the great disdain the proper cause,
  And the language that I used and that I made.
Now, son of mine, the tasting of the tree
  Not in itself was cause of so great exile,
  But solely the o'erstepping of the bounds.
There, whence thy Lady moved Virgilius,
  Four thousand and three hundred and two circuits
  Made by the sun, this Council I desired;
And him I saw return to all the lights
  Of his highway nine hundred times and thirty,
  Whilst I upon the earth was tarrying.
The language that I spake was quite extinct
  Before that in the work interminable
  The people under Nimrod were employed;
For nevermore result of reasoning
  (Because of human pleasure that doth change,
  Obedient to the heavens) was durable.
A natural action is it that man speaks;
  But whether thus or thus, doth nature leave
  To your own art, as seemeth best to you.
Ere I descended to the infernal anguish,
  'El' was on earth the name of the Chief Good,
  From whom comes all the joy that wraps me round
'Eli' he then was called, and that is proper,
  Because the use of men is like a leaf
  On bough, which goeth and another cometh.
Upon the mount that highest o'er the wave
  Rises was I, in life or pure or sinful,
  From the first hour to that which is the second,
As the sun changes quadrant, to the sixth."
Paradiso: Canto XXVII
"Glory be to the Father, to the Son,
  And Holy Ghost!" all Paradise began,
  So that the melody inebriate made me.
What I beheld seemed unto me a smile
  Of the universe; for my inebriation
  Found entrance through the hearing and the sight.
O joy!  O gladness inexpressible!
  O perfect life of love and peacefulness!
  O riches without hankering secure!
Before mine eyes were standing the four torches
  Enkindled, and the one that first had come
  Began to make itself more luminous;
And even such in semblance it became
  As Jupiter would become, if he and Mars
  Were birds, and they should interchange their feathers.
That Providence, which here distributeth
  Season and service, in the blessed choir
  Had silence upon every side imposed.
When I heard say: "If I my colour change,
  Marvel not at it; for while I am speaking
  Thou shalt behold all these their colour change.
He who usurps upon the earth my place,
  My place, my place, which vacant has become
  Before the presence of the Son of God,
Has of my cemetery made a sewer
  Of blood and stench, whereby the Perverse One,
  Who fell from here, below there is appeased!"
With the same colour which, through sun adverse,
  Painteth the clouds at evening or at morn,
  Beheld I then the whole of heaven suffused.
And as a modest woman, who abides
  Sure of herself, and at another's failing,
  From listening only, timorous becomes,
Even thus did Beatrice change countenance;
  And I believe in heaven was such eclipse,
  When suffered the supreme Omnipotence;
Thereafterward proceeded forth his words
  With voice so much transmuted from itself,
  The very countenance was not more changed.
"The spouse of Christ has never nurtured been
  On blood of mine, of Linus and of Cletus,
  To be made use of in acquest of gold;
But in acquest of this delightful life
  Sixtus and Pius, Urban and Calixtus,
  After much lamentation, shed their blood.
Our purpose was not, that on the right hand
  Of our successors should in part be seated
  The Christian folk, in part upon the other;
Nor that the keys which were to me confided
  Should e'er become the escutcheon on a banner,
  That should wage war on those who are baptized;
Nor I be made the figure of a seal
  To privileges venal and mendacious,
  Whereat I often redden and flash with fire.
In garb of shepherds the rapacious wolves
  Are seen from here above o'er all the pastures!
  O wrath of God, why dost thou slumber still?
To drink our blood the Caorsines and Gascons
  Are making ready.  O thou good beginning,
  Unto how vile an end must thou needs fall!
But the high Providence, that with Scipio
  At Rome the glory of the world defended,
  Will speedily bring aid, as I conceive;
And thou, my son, who by thy mortal weight
  Shalt down return again, open thy mouth;
  What I conceal not, do not thou conceal."
As with its frozen vapours downward falls
  In flakes our atmosphere, what time the horn
  Of the celestial Goat doth touch the sun,
Upward in such array saw I the ether
  Become, and flaked with the triumphant vapours,
  Which there together with us had remained.
My sight was following up their semblances,
  And followed till the medium, by excess,
  The passing farther onward took from it;
Whereat the Lady, who beheld me freed
  From gazing upward, said to me: "Cast down
  Thy sight, and see how far thou art turned round."
Since the first time that I had downward looked,
  I saw that I had moved through the whole arc
  Which the first climate makes from midst to end;
So that I saw the mad track of Ulysses
  Past Gades, and this side, well nigh the shore
  Whereon became Europa a sweet burden.
And of this threshing-floor the site to me
  Were more unveiled, but the sun was proceeding
  Under my feet, a sign and more removed.
My mind enamoured, which is dallying
  At all times with my Lady, to bring back
  To her mine eyes was more than ever ardent.
And if or Art or Nature has made bait
  To catch the eyes and so possess the mind,
  In human flesh or in its portraiture,
All joined together would appear as nought
  To the divine delight which shone upon me
  When to her smiling face I turned me round.
The virtue that her look endowed me with
  From the fair nest of Leda tore me forth,
  And up into the swiftest heaven impelled me.
Its parts exceeding full of life and lofty
  Are all so uniform, I cannot say
  Which Beatrice selected for my place.
But she, who was aware of my desire,
  Began, the while she smiled so joyously
  That God seemed in her countenance to rejoice:
"The nature of that motion, which keeps quiet
  The centre and all the rest about it moves,
  From hence begins as from its starting point.
And in this heaven there is no other Where
  Than in the Mind Divine, wherein is kindled
  The love that turns it, and the power it rains.
Within a circle light and love embrace it,
  Even as this doth the others, and that precinct
  He who encircles it alone controls.
Its motion is not by another meted,
  But all the others measured are by this,
  As ten is by the half and by the fifth.
And in what manner time in such a pot
  May have its roots, and in the rest its leaves,
  Now unto thee can manifest be made.
O Covetousness, that mortals dost ingulf
  Beneath thee so, that no one hath the power
  Of drawing back his eyes from out thy waves!
Full fairly blossoms in mankind the will;
  But the uninterrupted rain converts
  Into abortive wildings the true plums.
Fidelity and innocence are found
  Only in children; afterwards they both
  Take flight or e'er the cheeks with down are covered.
One, while he prattles still, observes the fasts,
  Who, when his tongue is loosed, forthwith devours
  Whatever food under whatever moon;
Another, while he prattles, loves and listens
  Unto his mother, who when speech is perfect
  Forthwith desires to see her in her grave.
Even thus is swarthy made the skin so white
  In its first aspect of the daughter fair
  Of him who brings the morn, and leaves the night.
Thou, that it may not be a marvel to thee,
  Think that on earth there is no one who governs;
  Whence goes astray the human family.
Ere January be unwintered wholly
  By the centesimal on earth neglected,
  Shall these supernal circles roar so loud
The tempest that has been so long awaited
  Shall whirl the poops about where are the prows;
  So that the fleet shall run its course direct,
And the true fruit shall follow on the flower."
Paradiso: Canto XXVIII
After the truth against the present life
  Of miserable mortals was unfolded
  By her who doth imparadise my mind,
As in a looking-glass a taper's flame
  He sees who from behind is lighted by it,
  Before he has it in his sight or thought,
And turns him round to see if so the glass
  Tell him the truth, and sees that it accords
  Therewith as doth a music with its metre,
In similar wise my memory recollecteth
  That I did, looking into those fair eyes,
  Of which Love made the springes to ensnare me.
And as I turned me round, and mine were touched
  By that which is apparent in that volume,
  Whenever on its gyre we gaze intent,
A point beheld I, that was raying out
  Light so acute, the sight which it enkindles
  Must close perforce before such great acuteness.
And whatsoever star seems smallest here
  Would seem to be a moon, if placed beside it.
  As one star with another star is placed.
Perhaps at such a distance as appears
  A halo cincturing the light that paints it,
  When densest is the vapour that sustains it,
Thus distant round the point a circle of fire
  So swiftly whirled, that it would have surpassed
  Whatever motion soonest girds the world;
And this was by another circumcinct,
  That by a third, the third then by a fourth,
  By a fifth the fourth, and then by a sixth the fifth;
The seventh followed thereupon in width
  So ample now, that Juno's messenger
  Entire would be too narrow to contain it.
Even so the eighth and ninth; and every one
  More slowly moved, according as it was
  In number distant farther from the first.
And that one had its flame most crystalline
  From which less distant was the stainless spark,
  I think because more with its truth imbued.
My Lady, who in my anxiety
  Beheld me much perplexed, said: "From that point
  Dependent is the heaven and nature all.
Behold that circle most conjoined to it,
  And know thou, that its motion is so swift
  Through burning love whereby it is spurred on."
And I to her: "If the world were arranged
  In the order which I see in yonder wheels,
  What's set before me would have satisfied me;
But in the world of sense we can perceive
  That evermore the circles are diviner
  As they are from the centre more remote
Wherefore if my desire is to be ended
  In this miraculous and angelic temple,
  That has for confines only love and light,
To hear behoves me still how the example
  And the exemplar go not in one fashion,
  Since for myself in vain I contemplate it."
"If thine own fingers unto such a knot
  Be insufficient, it is no great wonder,
  So hard hath it become for want of trying."
My Lady thus; then said she: "Do thou take
  What I shall tell thee, if thou wouldst be sated,
  And exercise on that thy subtlety.
The circles corporal are wide and narrow
  According to the more or less of virtue
  Which is distributed through all their parts.
The greater goodness works the greater weal,
  The greater weal the greater body holds,
  If perfect equally are all its parts.
Therefore this one which sweeps along with it
  The universe sublime, doth correspond
  Unto the circle which most loves and knows.
On which account, if thou unto the virtue
  Apply thy measure, not to the appearance
  Of substances that unto thee seem round,
Thou wilt behold a marvellous agreement,
  Of more to greater, and of less to smaller,
  In every heaven, with its Intelligence."
Even as remaineth splendid and serene
  The hemisphere of air, when Boreas
  Is blowing from that cheek where he is mildest,
Because is purified and resolved the rack
  That erst disturbed it, till the welkin laughs
  With all the beauties of its pageantry;
Thus did I likewise, after that my Lady
  Had me provided with her clear response,
  And like a star in heaven the truth was seen.
And soon as to a stop her words had come,
  Not otherwise does iron scintillate
  When molten, than those circles scintillated.
Their coruscation all the sparks repeated,
  And they so many were, their number makes
  More millions than the doubling of the chess.
I heard them sing hosanna choir by choir
  To the fixed point which holds them at the 'Ubi,'
  And ever will, where they have ever been.
And she, who saw the dubious meditations
  Within my mind, "The primal circles," said,
  "Have shown thee Seraphim and Cherubim.
Thus rapidly they follow their own bonds,
  To be as like the point as most they can,
  And can as far as they are high in vision.
Those other Loves, that round about them go,
  Thrones of the countenance divine are called,
  Because they terminate the primal Triad.
And thou shouldst know that they all have delight
  As much as their own vision penetrates
  The Truth, in which all intellect finds rest.
From this it may be seen how blessedness
  Is founded in the faculty which sees,
  And not in that which loves, and follows next;
And of this seeing merit is the measure,
  Which is brought forth by grace, and by good will;
  Thus on from grade to grade doth it proceed.
The second Triad, which is germinating
  In such wise in this sempiternal spring,
  That no nocturnal Aries despoils,
Perpetually hosanna warbles forth
  With threefold melody, that sounds in three
  Orders of joy, with which it is intrined.
The three Divine are in this hierarchy,
  First the Dominions, and the Virtues next;
  And the third order is that of the Powers.
Then in the dances twain penultimate
  The Principalities and Archangels wheel;
  The last is wholly of angelic sports.
These orders upward all of them are gazing,
  And downward so prevail, that unto God
  They all attracted are and all attract.
And Dionysius with so great desire
  To contemplate these Orders set himself,
  He named them and distinguished them as I do.
But Gregory afterwards dissented from him;
  Wherefore, as soon as he unclosed his eyes
  Within this heaven, he at himself did smile.
And if so much of secret truth a mortal
  Proffered on earth, I would not have thee marvel,
  For he who saw it here revealed it to him,
With much more of the truth about these circles."
Paradiso: Canto XXIX
At what time both the children of Latona,
  Surmounted by the Ram and by the Scales,
  Together make a zone of the horizon,
As long as from the time the zenith holds them
  In equipoise, till from that girdle both
  Changing their hemisphere disturb the balance,
So long, her face depicted with a smile,
  Did Beatrice keep silence while she gazed
  Fixedly at the point which had o'ercome me.
Then she began: "I say, and I ask not
  What thou dost wish to hear, for I have seen it
  Where centres every When and every 'Ubi.'
Not to acquire some good unto himself,
  Which is impossible, but that his splendour
  In its resplendency may say, 'Subsisto,'
In his eternity outside of time,
  Outside all other limits, as it pleased him,
  Into new Loves the Eternal Love unfolded.
Nor as if torpid did he lie before;
  For neither after nor before proceeded
  The going forth of God upon these waters.
Matter and Form unmingled and conjoined
  Came into being that had no defect,
  E'en as three arrows from a three-stringed bow.
And as in glass, in amber, or in crystal
  A sunbeam flashes so, that from its coming
  To its full being is no interval,
So from its Lord did the triform effect
  Ray forth into its being all together,
  Without discrimination of beginning.
Order was con-created and constructed
  In substances, and summit of the world
  Were those wherein the pure act was produced.
Pure potentiality held the lowest part;
  Midway bound potentiality with act
  Such bond that it shall never be unbound.
Jerome has written unto you of angels
  Created a long lapse of centuries
  Or ever yet the other world was made;
But written is this truth in many places
  By writers of the Holy Ghost, and thou
  Shalt see it, if thou lookest well thereat.
And even reason seeth it somewhat,
  For it would not concede that for so long
  Could be the motors without their perfection.
Now dost thou know both where and when these Loves
  Created were, and how; so that extinct
  In thy desire already are three fires.
Nor could one reach, in counting, unto twenty
  So swiftly, as a portion of these angels
  Disturbed the subject of your elements.
The rest remained, and they began this art
  Which thou discernest, with so great delight
  That never from their circling do they cease.
The occasion of the fall was the accursed
  Presumption of that One, whom thou hast seen
  By all the burden of the world constrained.
Those whom thou here beholdest modest were
  To recognise themselves as of that goodness
  Which made them apt for so much understanding;
On which account their vision was exalted
  By the enlightening grace and their own merit,
  So that they have a full and steadfast will.
I would not have thee doubt, but certain be,
  'Tis meritorious to receive this grace,
  According as the affection opens to it.
Now round about in this consistory
  Much mayst thou contemplate, if these my words
  Be gathered up, without all further aid.
But since upon the earth, throughout your schools,
  They teach that such is the angelic nature
  That it doth hear, and recollect, and will,
More will I say, that thou mayst see unmixed
  The truth that is confounded there below,
  Equivocating in such like prelections.
These substances, since in God's countenance
  They jocund were, turned not away their sight
  From that wherefrom not anything is hidden;
Hence they have not their vision intercepted
  By object new, and hence they do not need
  To recollect, through interrupted thought.
So that below, not sleeping, people dream,
  Believing they speak truth, and not believing;
  And in the last is greater sin and shame.
Below you do not journey by one path
  Philosophising; so transporteth you
  Love of appearance and the thought thereof.
And even this above here is endured
  With less disdain, than when is set aside
  The Holy Writ, or when it is distorted.
They think not there how much of blood it costs
  To sow it in the world, and how he pleases
  Who in humility keeps close to it.
Each striveth for appearance, and doth make
  His own inventions; and these treated are
  By preachers, and the Evangel holds its peace.
One sayeth that the moon did backward turn,
  In the Passion of Christ, and interpose herself
  So that the sunlight reached not down below;
And lies; for of its own accord the light
  Hid itself; whence to Spaniards and to Indians,
  As to the Jews, did such eclipse respond.
Florence has not so many Lapi and Bindi
  As fables such as these, that every year
  Are shouted from the pulpit back and forth,
In such wise that the lambs, who do not know,
  Come back from pasture fed upon the wind,
  And not to see the harm doth not excuse them.
Christ did not to his first disciples say,
  'Go forth, and to the world preach idle tales,'
  But unto them a true foundation gave;
And this so loudly sounded from their lips,
  That, in the warfare to enkindle Faith,
  They made of the Evangel shields and lances.
Now men go forth with jests and drolleries
  To preach, and if but well the people laugh,
  The hood puffs out, and nothing more is asked.
But in the cowl there nestles such a bird,
  That, if the common people were to see it,
  They would perceive what pardons they confide in,
For which so great on earth has grown the folly,
  That, without proof of any testimony,
  To each indulgence they would flock together.
By this Saint Anthony his pig doth fatten,
  And many others, who are worse than pigs,
  Paying in money without mark of coinage.
But since we have digressed abundantly,
  Turn back thine eyes forthwith to the right path,
  So that the way be shortened with the time.
This nature doth so multiply itself
  In numbers, that there never yet was speech
  Nor mortal fancy that can go so far.
And if thou notest that which is revealed
  By Daniel, thou wilt see that in his thousands
  Number determinate is kept concealed.
The primal light, that all irradiates it,
  By modes as many is received therein,
  As are the splendours wherewith it is mated.
Hence, inasmuch as on the act conceptive
  The affection followeth, of love the sweetness
  Therein diversely fervid is or tepid.
The height behold now and the amplitude
  Of the eternal power, since it hath made
  Itself so many mirrors, where 'tis broken,
One in itself remaining as before."
Paradiso: Canto XXX
Perchance six thousand miles remote from us
  Is glowing the sixth hour, and now this world
  Inclines its shadow almost to a level,
When the mid-heaven begins to make itself
  So deep to us, that here and there a star
  Ceases to shine so far down as this depth,
And as advances bright exceedingly
  The handmaid of the sun, the heaven is closed
  Light after light to the most beautiful;
Not otherwise the Triumph, which for ever
  Plays round about the point that vanquished me,
  Seeming enclosed by what itself encloses,
Little by little from my vision faded;
  Whereat to turn mine eyes on Beatrice
  My seeing nothing and my love constrained me.
If what has hitherto been said of her
  Were all concluded in a single praise,
  Scant would it be to serve the present turn.
Not only does the beauty I beheld
  Transcend ourselves, but truly I believe
  Its Maker only may enjoy it all.
Vanquished do I confess me by this passage
  More than by problem of his theme was ever
  O'ercome the comic or the tragic poet;
For as the sun the sight that trembles most,
  Even so the memory of that sweet smile
  My mind depriveth of its very self.
From the first day that I beheld her face
  In this life, to the moment of this look,
  The sequence of my song has ne'er been severed;
But now perforce this sequence must desist
  From following her beauty with my verse,
  As every artist at his uttermost.
Such as I leave her to a greater fame
  Than any of my trumpet, which is bringing
  Its arduous matter to a final close,
With voice and gesture of a perfect leader
  She recommenced: "We from the greatest body
  Have issued to the heaven that is pure light;
Light intellectual replete with love,
  Love of true good replete with ecstasy,
  Ecstasy that transcendeth every sweetness.
Here shalt thou see the one host and the other
  Of Paradise, and one in the same aspects
  Which at the final judgment thou shalt see."
Even as a sudden lightning that disperses
  The visual spirits, so that it deprives
  The eye of impress from the strongest objects,
Thus round about me flashed a living light,
  And left me swathed around with such a veil
  Of its effulgence, that I nothing saw.
"Ever the Love which quieteth this heaven
  Welcomes into itself with such salute,
  To make the candle ready for its flame."
No sooner had within me these brief words
  An entrance found, than I perceived myself
  To be uplifted over my own power,
And I with vision new rekindled me,
  Such that no light whatever is so pure
  But that mine eyes were fortified against it.
And light I saw in fashion of a river
  Fulvid with its effulgence, 'twixt two banks
  Depicted with an admirable Spring.
Out of this river issued living sparks,
  And on all sides sank down into the flowers,
  Like unto rubies that are set in gold;
And then, as if inebriate with the odours,
  They plunged again into the wondrous torrent,
  And as one entered issued forth another.
"The high desire, that now inflames and moves thee
  To have intelligence of what thou seest,
  Pleaseth me all the more, the more it swells.
But of this water it behoves thee drink
  Before so great a thirst in thee be slaked."
  Thus said to me the sunshine of mine eyes;
And added: "The river and the topazes
  Going in and out, and the laughing of the herbage,
  Are of their truth foreshadowing prefaces;
Not that these things are difficult in themselves,
  But the deficiency is on thy side,
  For yet thou hast not vision so exalted."
There is no babe that leaps so suddenly
  With face towards the milk, if he awake
  Much later than his usual custom is,
As I did, that I might make better mirrors
  Still of mine eyes, down stooping to the wave
  Which flows that we therein be better made.
And even as the penthouse of mine eyelids
  Drank of it, it forthwith appeared to me
  Out of its length to be transformed to round.
Then as a folk who have been under masks
  Seem other than before, if they divest
  The semblance not their own they disappeared in,
Thus into greater pomp were changed for me
  The flowerets and the sparks, so that I saw
  Both of the Courts of Heaven made manifest.
O splendour of God! by means of which I saw
  The lofty triumph of the realm veracious,
  Give me the power to say how it I saw!
There is a light above, which visible
  Makes the Creator unto every creature,
  Who only in beholding Him has peace,
And it expands itself in circular form
  To such extent, that its circumference
  Would be too large a girdle for the sun.
The semblance of it is all made of rays
  Reflected from the top of Primal Motion,
  Which takes therefrom vitality and power.
And as a hill in water at its base
  Mirrors itself, as if to see its beauty
  When affluent most in verdure and in flowers,
So, ranged aloft all round about the light,
  Mirrored I saw in more ranks than a thousand
  All who above there have from us returned.
And if the lowest row collect within it
  So great a light, how vast the amplitude
  Is of this Rose in its extremest leaves!
My vision in the vastness and the height
  Lost not itself, but comprehended all
  The quantity and quality of that gladness.
There near and far nor add nor take away;
  For there where God immediately doth govern,
  The natural law in naught is relevant.
Into the yellow of the Rose Eternal
  That spreads, and multiplies, and breathes an odour
  Of praise unto the ever-vernal Sun,
As one who silent is and fain would speak,
  Me Beatrice drew on, and said: "Behold
  Of the white stoles how vast the convent is!
Behold how vast the circuit of our city!
  Behold our seats so filled to overflowing,
  That here henceforward are few people wanting!
On that great throne whereon thine eyes are fixed
  For the crown's sake already placed upon it,
  Before thou suppest at this wedding feast
Shall sit the soul (that is to be Augustus
  On earth) of noble Henry, who shall come
  To redress Italy ere she be ready.
Blind covetousness, that casts its spell upon you,
  Has made you like unto the little child,
  Who dies of hunger and drives off the nurse.
And in the sacred forum then shall be
  A Prefect such, that openly or covert
  On the same road he will not walk with him.
But long of God he will not be endured
  In holy office; he shall be thrust down
  Where Simon Magus is for his deserts,
And make him of Alagna lower go!"
Paradiso: Canto XXXI
In fashion then as of a snow-white rose
  Displayed itself to me the saintly host,
  Whom Christ in his own blood had made his bride,
But the other host, that flying sees and sings
  The glory of Him who doth enamour it,
  And the goodness that created it so noble,
Even as a swarm of bees, that sinks in flowers
  One moment, and the next returns again
  To where its labour is to sweetness turned,
Sank into the great flower, that is adorned
  With leaves so many, and thence reascended
  To where its love abideth evermore.
Their faces had they all of living flame,
  And wings of gold, and all the rest so white
  No snow unto that limit doth attain.
From bench to bench, into the flower descending,
  They carried something of the peace and ardour
  Which by the fanning of their flanks they won.
Nor did the interposing 'twixt the flower
  And what was o'er it of such plenitude
  Of flying shapes impede the sight and splendour;
Because the light divine so penetrates
  The universe, according to its merit,
  That naught can be an obstacle against it.
This realm secure and full of gladsomeness,
  Crowded with ancient people and with modern,
  Unto one mark had all its look and love.
O Trinal Light, that in a single star
  Sparkling upon their sight so satisfies them,
  Look down upon our tempest here below!
If the barbarians, coming from some region
  That every day by Helice is covered,
  Revolving with her son whom she delights in,
Beholding Rome and all her noble works,
  Were wonder-struck, what time the Lateran
  Above all mortal things was eminent,--
I who to the divine had from the human,
  From time unto eternity, had come,
  From Florence to a people just and sane,
With what amazement must I have been filled!
  Truly between this and the joy, it was
  My pleasure not to hear, and to be mute.
And as a pilgrim who delighteth him
  In gazing round the temple of his vow,
  And hopes some day to retell how it was,
So through the living light my way pursuing
  Directed I mine eyes o'er all the ranks,
  Now up, now down, and now all round about.
Faces I saw of charity persuasive,
  Embellished by His light and their own smile,
  And attitudes adorned with every grace.
The general form of Paradise already
  My glance had comprehended as a whole,
  In no part hitherto remaining fixed,
And round I turned me with rekindled wish
  My Lady to interrogate of things
  Concerning which my mind was in suspense.
One thing I meant, another answered me;
  I thought I should see Beatrice, and saw
  An Old Man habited like the glorious people.
O'erflowing was he in his eyes and cheeks
  With joy benign, in attitude of pity
  As to a tender father is becoming.
And "She, where is she?" instantly I said;
  Whence he: "To put an end to thy desire,
  Me Beatrice hath sent from mine own place.
And if thou lookest up to the third round
  Of the first rank, again shalt thou behold her
  Upon the throne her merits have assigned her."
Without reply I lifted up mine eyes,
  And saw her, as she made herself a crown
  Reflecting from herself the eternal rays.
Not from that region which the highest thunders
  Is any mortal eye so far removed,
  In whatsoever sea it deepest sinks,
As there from Beatrice my sight; but this
  Was nothing unto me; because her image
  Descended not to me by medium blurred.
"O Lady, thou in whom my hope is strong,
  And who for my salvation didst endure
  In Hell to leave the imprint of thy feet,
Of whatsoever things I have beheld,
  As coming from thy power and from thy goodness
  I recognise the virtue and the grace.
Thou from a slave hast brought me unto freedom,
  By all those ways, by all the expedients,
  Whereby thou hadst the power of doing it.
Preserve towards me thy magnificence,
  So that this soul of mine, which thou hast healed,
  Pleasing to thee be loosened from the body."
Thus I implored; and she, so far away,
  Smiled, as it seemed, and looked once more at me;
  Then unto the eternal fountain turned.
And said the Old Man holy: "That thou mayst
  Accomplish perfectly thy journeying,
  Whereunto prayer and holy love have sent me,
Fly with thine eyes all round about this garden;
  For seeing it will discipline thy sight
  Farther to mount along the ray divine.
And she, the Queen of Heaven, for whom I burn
  Wholly with love, will grant us every grace,
  Because that I her faithful Bernard am."
As he who peradventure from Croatia
  Cometh to gaze at our Veronica,
  Who through its ancient fame is never sated,
But says in thought, the while it is displayed,
  "My Lord, Christ Jesus, God of very God,
  Now was your semblance made like unto this?"
Even such was I while gazing at the living
  Charity of the man, who in this world
  By contemplation tasted of that peace.
"Thou son of grace, this jocund life," began he,
  "Will not be known to thee by keeping ever
  Thine eyes below here on the lowest place;
But mark the circles to the most remote,
  Until thou shalt behold enthroned the Queen
  To whom this realm is subject and devoted."
I lifted up mine eyes, and as at morn
  The oriental part of the horizon
  Surpasses that wherein the sun goes down,
Thus, as if going with mine eyes from vale
  To mount, I saw a part in the remoteness
  Surpass in splendour all the other front.
And even as there where we await the pole
  That Phaeton drove badly, blazes more
  The light, and is on either side diminished,
So likewise that pacific oriflamme
  Gleamed brightest in the centre, and each side
  In equal measure did the flame abate.
And at that centre, with their wings expanded,
  More than a thousand jubilant Angels saw I,
  Each differing in effulgence and in kind.
I saw there at their sports and at their songs
  A beauty smiling, which the gladness was
  Within the eyes of all the other saints;
And if I had in speaking as much wealth
  As in imagining, I should not dare
  To attempt the smallest part of its delight.
Bernard, as soon as he beheld mine eyes
  Fixed and intent upon its fervid fervour,
  His own with such affection turned to her
That it made mine more ardent to behold.
Paradiso: Canto XXXII
Absorbed in his delight, that contemplator
  Assumed the willing office of a teacher,
  And gave beginning to these holy words:
"The wound that Mary closed up and anointed,
  She at her feet who is so beautiful,
  She is the one who opened it and pierced it.
Within that order which the third seats make
  Is seated Rachel, lower than the other,
  With Beatrice, in manner as thou seest.
Sarah, Rebecca, Judith, and her who was
  Ancestress of the Singer, who for dole
  Of the misdeed said, 'Miserere mei,'
Canst thou behold from seat to seat descending
  Down in gradation, as with each one's name
  I through the Rose go down from leaf to leaf.
And downward from the seventh row, even as
  Above the same, succeed the Hebrew women,
  Dividing all the tresses of the flower;
Because, according to the view which Faith
  In Christ had taken, these are the partition
  By which the sacred stairways are divided.
Upon this side, where perfect is the flower
  With each one of its petals, seated are
  Those who believed in Christ who was to come.
Upon the other side, where intersected
  With vacant spaces are the semicircles,
  Are those who looked to Christ already come.
And as, upon this side, the glorious seat
  Of the Lady of Heaven, and the other seats
  Below it, such a great division make,
So opposite doth that of the great John,
  Who, ever holy, desert and martyrdom
  Endured, and afterwards two years in Hell.
And under him thus to divide were chosen
  Francis, and Benedict, and Augustine,
  And down to us the rest from round to round.
Behold now the high providence divine;
  For one and other aspect of the Faith
  In equal measure shall this garden fill.
And know that downward from that rank which cleaves
  Midway the sequence of the two divisions,
  Not by their proper merit are they seated;
But by another's under fixed conditions;
  For these are spirits one and all assoiled
  Before they any true election had.
Well canst thou recognise it in their faces,
  And also in their voices puerile,
  If thou regard them well and hearken to them.
Now doubtest thou, and doubting thou art silent;
  But I will loosen for thee the strong bond
  In which thy subtile fancies hold thee fast.
Within the amplitude of this domain
  No casual point can possibly find place,
  No more than sadness can, or thirst, or hunger;
For by eternal law has been established
  Whatever thou beholdest, so that closely
  The ring is fitted to the finger here.
And therefore are these people, festinate
  Unto true life, not 'sine causa' here
  More and less excellent among themselves.
The King, by means of whom this realm reposes
  In so great love and in so great delight
  That no will ventureth to ask for more,
In his own joyous aspect every mind
  Creating, at his pleasure dowers with grace
  Diversely; and let here the effect suffice.
And this is clearly and expressly noted
  For you in Holy Scripture, in those twins
  Who in their mother had their anger roused.
According to the colour of the hair,
  Therefore, with such a grace the light supreme
  Consenteth that they worthily be crowned.
Without, then, any merit of their deeds,
  Stationed are they in different gradations,
  Differing only in their first acuteness.
'Tis true that in the early centuries,
  With innocence, to work out their salvation
  Sufficient was the faith of parents only.
After the earlier ages were completed,
  Behoved it that the males by circumcision
  Unto their innocent wings should virtue add;
But after that the time of grace had come
  Without the baptism absolute of Christ,
  Such innocence below there was retained.
Look now into the face that unto Christ
  Hath most resemblance; for its brightness only
  Is able to prepare thee to see Christ."
On her did I behold so great a gladness
  Rain down, borne onward in the holy minds
  Created through that altitude to fly,
That whatsoever I had seen before
  Did not suspend me in such admiration,
  Nor show me such similitude of God.
And the same Love that first descended there,
  "Ave Maria, gratia plena," singing,
  In front of her his wings expanded wide.
Unto the canticle divine responded
  From every part the court beatified,
  So that each sight became serener for it.
"O holy father, who for me endurest
  To be below here, leaving the sweet place
  In which thou sittest by eternal lot,
Who is the Angel that with so much joy
  Into the eyes is looking of our Queen,
  Enamoured so that he seems made of fire?"
Thus I again recourse had to the teaching
  Of that one who delighted him in Mary
  As doth the star of morning in the sun.
And he to me: "Such gallantry and grace
  As there can be in Angel and in soul,
  All is in him; and thus we fain would have it;
Because he is the one who bore the palm
  Down unto Mary, when the Son of God
  To take our burden on himself decreed.
But now come onward with thine eyes, as I
  Speaking shall go, and note the great patricians
  Of this most just and merciful of empires.
Those two that sit above there most enrapture
  As being very near unto Augusta,
  Are as it were the two roots of this Rose.
He who upon the left is near her placed
  The father is, by whose audacious taste
  The human species so much bitter tastes.
Upon the right thou seest that ancient father
  Of Holy Church, into whose keeping Christ
  The keys committed of this lovely flower.
And he who all the evil days beheld,
  Before his death, of her the beauteous bride
  Who with the spear and with the nails was won,
Beside him sits, and by the other rests
  That leader under whom on manna lived
  The people ingrate, fickle, and stiff-necked.
Opposite Peter seest thou Anna seated,
  So well content to look upon her daughter,
  Her eyes she moves not while she sings Hosanna.
And opposite the eldest household father
  Lucia sits, she who thy Lady moved
  When to rush downward thou didst bend thy brows.
But since the moments of thy vision fly,
  Here will we make full stop, as a good tailor
  Who makes the gown according to his cloth,
And unto the first Love will turn our eyes,
  That looking upon Him thou penetrate
  As far as possible through his effulgence.
Truly, lest peradventure thou recede,
  Moving thy wings believing to advance,
  By prayer behoves it that grace be obtained;
Grace from that one who has the power to aid thee;
  And thou shalt follow me with thy affection
  That from my words thy heart turn not aside."
And he began this holy orison.
Paradiso: Canto XXXIII
"Thou Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son,
  Humble and high beyond all other creature,
  The limit fixed of the eternal counsel,
Thou art the one who such nobility
  To human nature gave, that its Creator
  Did not disdain to make himself its creature.
Within thy womb rekindled was the love,
  By heat of which in the eternal peace
  After such wise this flower has germinated.
Here unto us thou art a noonday torch
  Of charity, and below there among mortals
  Thou art the living fountain-head of hope.
Lady, thou art so great, and so prevailing,
  That he who wishes grace, nor runs to thee,
  His aspirations without wings would fly.
Not only thy benignity gives succour
  To him who asketh it, but oftentimes
  Forerunneth of its own accord the asking.
In thee compassion is, in thee is pity,
  In thee magnificence; in thee unites
  Whate'er of goodness is in any creature.
Now doth this man, who from the lowest depth
  Of the universe as far as here has seen
  One after one the spiritual lives,
Supplicate thee through grace for so much power
  That with his eyes he may uplift himself
  Higher towards the uttermost salvation.
And I, who never burned for my own seeing
  More than I do for his, all of my prayers
  Proffer to thee, and pray they come not short,
That thou wouldst scatter from him every cloud
  Of his mortality so with thy prayers,
  That the Chief Pleasure be to him displayed.
Still farther do I pray thee, Queen, who canst
  Whate'er thou wilt, that sound thou mayst preserve
  After so great a vision his affections.
Let thy protection conquer human movements;
  See Beatrice and all the blessed ones
  My prayers to second clasp their hands to thee!"
The eyes beloved and revered of God,
  Fastened upon the speaker, showed to us
  How grateful unto her are prayers devout;
Then unto the Eternal Light they turned,
  On which it is not credible could be
  By any creature bent an eye so clear.
And I, who to the end of all desires
  Was now approaching, even as I ought
  The ardour of desire within me ended.
Bernard was beckoning unto me, and smiling,
  That I should upward look; but I already
  Was of my own accord such as he wished;
Because my sight, becoming purified,
  Was entering more and more into the ray
  Of the High Light which of itself is true.
From that time forward what I saw was greater
  Than our discourse, that to such vision yields,
  And yields the memory unto such excess.
Even as he is who seeth in a dream,
  And after dreaming the imprinted passion
  Remains, and to his mind the rest returns not,
Even such am I, for almost utterly
  Ceases my vision, and distilleth yet
  Within my heart the sweetness born of it;
Even thus the snow is in the sun unsealed,
  Even thus upon the wind in the light leaves
  Were the soothsayings of the Sibyl lost.
O Light Supreme, that dost so far uplift thee
  From the conceits of mortals, to my mind
  Of what thou didst appear re-lend a little,
And make my tongue of so great puissance,
  That but a single sparkle of thy glory
  It may bequeath unto the future people;
For by returning to my memory somewhat,
  And by a little sounding in these verses,
  More of thy victory shall be conceived!
I think the keenness of the living ray
  Which I endured would have bewildered me,
  If but mine eyes had been averted from it;
And I remember that I was more bold
  On this account to bear, so that I joined
  My aspect with the Glory Infinite.
O grace abundant, by which I presumed
  To fix my sight upon the Light Eternal,
  So that the seeing I consumed therein!
I saw that in its depth far down is lying
  Bound up with love together in one volume,
  What through the universe in leaves is scattered;
Substance, and accident, and their operations,
  All interfused together in such wise
  That what I speak of is one simple light.
The universal fashion of this knot
  Methinks I saw, since more abundantly
  In saying this I feel that I rejoice.
One moment is more lethargy to me,
  Than five and twenty centuries to the emprise
  That startled Neptune with the shade of Argo!
My mind in this wise wholly in suspense,
  Steadfast, immovable, attentive gazed,
  And evermore with gazing grew enkindled.
In presence of that light one such becomes,
  That to withdraw therefrom for other prospect
  It is impossible he e'er consent;
Because the good, which object is of will,
  Is gathered all in this, and out of it
  That is defective which is perfect there.
Shorter henceforward will my language fall
  Of what I yet remember, than an infant's
  Who still his tongue doth moisten at the breast.
Not because more than one unmingled semblance
  Was in the living light on which I looked,
  For it is always what it was before;
But through the sight, that fortified itself
  In me by looking, one appearance only
  To me was ever changing as I changed.
Within the deep and luminous subsistence
  Of the High Light appeared to me three circles,
  Of threefold colour and of one dimension,
And by the second seemed the first reflected
  As Iris is by Iris, and the third
  Seemed fire that equally from both is breathed.
O how all speech is feeble and falls short
  Of my conceit, and this to what I saw
  Is such, 'tis not enough to call it little!
O Light Eterne, sole in thyself that dwellest,
  Sole knowest thyself, and, known unto thyself
  And knowing, lovest and smilest on thyself!
That circulation, which being thus conceived
  Appeared in thee as a reflected light,
  When somewhat contemplated by mine eyes,
Within itself, of its own very colour
  Seemed to me painted with our effigy,
  Wherefore my sight was all absorbed therein.
As the geometrician, who endeavours
  To square the circle, and discovers not,
  By taking thought, the principle he wants,
Even such was I at that new apparition;
  I wished to see how the image to the circle
  Conformed itself, and how it there finds place;
But my own wings were not enough for this,
  Had it not been that then my mind there smote
  A flash of lightning, wherein came its wish.
Here vigour failed the lofty fantasy:
  But now was turning my desire and will,
  Even as a wheel that equally is moved,
The Love which moves the sun and the other stars.
SIX SONNETS ON DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW (1807-1882)
Oft have I seen at some cathedral door
  A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat,
  Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet
  Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor
Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er;
  Far off the noises of the world retreat;
  The loud vociferations of the street
  Become an undistinguishable roar.
So, as I enter here from day to day,
  And leave my burden at this minster gate,
  Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray,
The tumult of the time disconsolate
  To inarticulate murmurs dies away,
  While the eternal ages watch and wait.
How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers!
  This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves
  Birds build their nests; while canopied with leaves
  Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers,
And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers!
  But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled eaves
  Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves,
  And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers!
Ah! from what agonies of heart and brain,
  What exultations trampling on despair,
  What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong,
What passionate outcry of a soul in pain,
  Uprose this poem of the earth and air,
  This mediaeval miracle of song!
I enter, and I see thee in the gloom
  Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine!
  And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine.
  The air is filled with some unknown perfume;
The congregation of the dead make room
  For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine;
  Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine,
  The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb.
From the confessionals I hear arise
  Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies,
  And lamentations from the crypts below
And then a voice celestial that begins
  With the pathetic words, "Although your sins
  As scarlet be," and ends with "as the snow."
With snow-white veil, and garments as of flame,
  She stands before thee, who so long ago
  Filled thy young heart with passion and the woe
  From which thy song in all its splendors came;
And while with stern rebuke she speaks thy name,
  The ice about thy heart melts as the snow
  On mountain heights, and in swift overflow
  Comes gushing from thy lips in sobs of shame.
Thou makest full confession; and a gleam
  As of the dawn on some dark forest cast,
  Seems on thy lifted forehead to increase;
Lethe and Eunoe--the remembered dream
  And the forgotten sorrow--bring at last
  That perfect pardon which is perfect peace.
I Lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze
  With forms of saints and holy men who died,
  Here martyred and hereafter glorified;
  And the great Rose upon its leaves displays
Christ's Triumph, and the angelic roundelays,
  With splendor upon splendor multiplied;
  And Beatrice again at Dante's side
  No more rebukes, but smiles her words of praise.
And then the organ sounds, and unseen choirs
  Sing the old Latin hymns of peace and love
  And benedictions of the Holy Ghost;
And the melodious bells among the spires
  O'er all the house-tops and through heaven above
  Proclaim the elevation of the Host!
O star of morning and of liberty!
  O bringer of the light, whose splendor shines
  Above the darkness of the Apennines,
  Forerunner of the day that is to be!
The voices of the city and the sea,
  The voices of the mountains and the pines,
  Repeat thy song, till the familiar lines
  Are footpaths for the thought of Italy!
Thy fame is blown abroad from all the heights,
  Through all the nations; and a sound is heard,
  As of a mighty wind, and men devout,
Strangers of Rome, and the new proselytes,
  In their own language hear thy wondrous word,
  And many are amazed and many doubt.
     'Ich habe unter meinen Papieren ein Blatt gefunden,
     wo ich die Baukunst eine erstarrte Musik nenne.'
        (Johann Wolfgang Goethe, 1829 March 23)
I found Dante in a bar.  The Poet had indeed lost the True Way to be found
reduced to party chatter in a Capitol Hill basement, but I had found him at
last.  I must have been drinking in the Dark Tavern of Error, for I did not
even realize I had begun the dolorous path followed by many since the
Poet's journey of A.D. 1300.  Actually no one spoke a word about Dante or
his Divine Comedy, rather I heard a second-hand Goethe call architecture
"frozen music."  Soon I took my second step through the gate to a people
lost; this time on a more respectable occasion--a lecture at the Catholic
University of America.  Clio, the muse of history, must have been aiding
Prof. Schumacher that evening, because it sustained my full three-hour
attention, even after I had just presented an all-night project.  There I
heard of a most astonishing Italian translation of 'la Divina Commedia' di
Dante Alighieri.  An Italian architect, Giuseppi Terragni, had translated
the Comedy into the 'Danteum,' a projected stone and glass monument to Poet
and Poem near the Basilica of Maxentius in Rome.
Do not look for the Danteum in the Eternal City.  In true Dantean form,
politics stood in the way of its construction in 1938.  Ironically this
literature-inspired building can itself most easily be found in book form.
Reading this book I remembered Goethe's quote about frozen music.  Did
Terragni try to freeze Dante's medieval miracle of song?  Certainly a
cold-poem seems artistically repulsive.  Unflattering comparisons to the
lake of Cocytus spring to mind too.  While I cannot read Italian, I can read
some German.  After locating the original quotation I discovered that
'frozen' is a problematic (though common) translation of Goethe's original
'erstarrte.'  The verb 'erstarren' more properly means 'to solidify' or 'to
stiffen.'  This suggests a chemical reaction in which the art does not
necessarily chill in the transformation.  Nor can simple thawing yield the
original work.  Like a chemical reaction it requires an artistic catalyst, a
muse.  Indeed the Danteum is not a physical translation of the Poem.
Terragni thought it inappropriate to translate the Comedy literally into a
non-literary work.  The Danteum would not be a stage set, rather Terragni
generated his design from the Comedy's structure, not its finishes.
     The poem is divided into three canticles of thirty-three cantos
     each, plus one extra in the first, the Inferno, making a total of
     one hundred cantos.  Each canto is composed of three-line tercets,
     the first and third lines rhyme, the second line rhymes with the
     beginning of the next tercet, establishing a kind of overlap,
     reflected in the overlapping motif of the Danteum design.  Dante's
     realms are further subdivided: the Inferno is composed of nine
     levels, the vestibule makes a tenth.  Purgatory has seven
     terraces, plus two ledges in an ante-purgatory; adding these to
     the Earthly Paradise yields ten zones.  Paradise is composed of
     nine heavens; Empyrean makes the tenth.  In the Inferno, sinners
     are organized by three vices--Incontinence, Violence, and
     Fraud--and further subdivided by the seven deadly sins.  In
     Purgatory, penance is ordered on the basis of three types of
     natural love.  Paradise is organized on the basis of three types
     of Divine Love, and further subdivided according to the three
     theological and four cardinal virtues.
        (Thomas Schumacher, "The Danteum,"
         Princeton Architectural Press, 1993)
By translating the structure, Terragni could then layer the literal and the
spiritual meanings of the Poem without allowing either to dominate.  These
layers of meaning are native to the Divine Comedy as they are native to
much medieval literature, although modern readers and tourists may not be
so familiar with them.  They are literal, allegorical, moral, and
anagogical.  I offer you St. Thomas of Aquinas' definition of these last
three as they relate to Sacred Scripture:
     . . .this spiritual sense has a threefold division. . .so far as
     the things of the Old Law signify the things of the New Law,
     there is the allegorical sense; so far as the things done in
     Christ, or so far as the things which signify Christ, are types
     of what we ought to do, there is the moral sense.  But so far as
     they signify what relates to eternal glory, there is the
     anagogical sense.    (Summa Theologica I, 1, 10)
Within the Danteum the Poet's meanings lurk in solid form.  An example: the
Danteum design does have spaces literally associated with the Comedy--the
Dark Wood of Error, Inferno, Purgatorio, and the Paradiso--but these spaces
also relate among themselves spiritually.  Dante often highlights a virtue
by first condemning its corruption.  Within Dante's system Justice is the
greatest of the cardinal virtues; its corruption, Fraud, is the most
contemptible of vices.  Because Dante saw the papacy as the most precious of
sacred institutions, corrupt popes figure prominently among the damned in
the Poet's Inferno.  In the Danteum the materiality of the worldly Dark Wood
directly opposes the transcendence of the Paradiso.  In the realm of error
every thought is lost and secular, while in heaven every soul's intent is
directed toward God.  The shadowy Inferno of the Danteum mirrors the
Purgatorio's illuminated ascent to heaven.  Purgatory embodies hope and
growth where hell chases its own dark inertia.  Such is the cosmography
shared by Terragni and Dante.
In this postscript I intend neither to fully examine the meaning nor the
plan of the Danteum, but rather to evince the power that art has acted as a
catalyst to other artists.  The Danteum, a modern design inspired by a
medieval poem, is but one example.  Dante's poem is filled with characters
epitomizing the full range of vices and virtues of human personalities.
Dante's characters come from his present and literature's past; they are
mythological, biblical, classical, ancient, and medieval.  They, rather than
Calliope and her sisters, were Dante's muses.
'La Divina Commedia' seems a natural candidate to complete Project
Gutenberg's first milleditio and to begin its second thousand e-texts.
Although distinctly medieval, its continuum of influence spans the
Renaissance and modernity.  Terragni saw his place within the Comedy as
surely as Dante saw his own.  We too fit within Dante's understanding of the
human condition; we differ less from our past than we might like to
believe.  T. S. Eliot understood this when he wrote "Dante and Shakespeare
divide the modern world between them, there is no third."  So now Dante
joins Shakespeare (e-text #100) in the Project Gutenberg collection.  Two
works that influenced Dante are also part of the collection: The Bible
(#10) and Virgil's Aeneid (#227).  Other major influences--St. Thomas of
Aquinas' Summa Theologica, The Metamorphoses of Ovid, and Aristotle's
Nicomachean Ethics--are available in electronic form at other Internet
sites.  If one searches enough he may even find a computer rendering of the
Danteum on the Internet.  By presenting this electronic text to Project
Gutenberg it is my hope that in will not rest in a computer unknown and
unread; it is my hope that artists will see themselves in the Divine Comedy
and be inspired, just as Dante ran the paths left by Virgil and St. Thomas
that led him to the stars.
Dennis McCarthy, July 1997
Atlanta, Georgia USA
imprimatur@juno.com
TECHNICAL NOTES
Text that was originally in italics has been placed within single
quotes ('italics').  Where italic text coincided with existing
quotation marks it was not given any additional markup.  Extended
characters, used occasionally in the original, have been transcribed
into 7-bit ASCII.  To view the italics and special characters please
refer to the HTML version of this e-text.
and Tad Book, student, Pontifical North American College, Rome.
THE HOLY BIBLE
Translated from the Latin Vulgate
Diligently Compared with the Hebrew, Greek,
and Other Editions in Divers Languages
THE OLD TESTAMENT
First Published by the English College at Douay
A.D. 1609 & 1610
THE NEW TESTAMENT
First Published by the English College at Rheims
With Annotations
The Whole Revised and Diligently Compared with
the Latin Vulgate by Bishop Richard Challoner
A.D. 1749-1752
Without the assistance of many individuals and groups, this text of the
Douay-Rheims Version of the Holy Bible would not be available for the
Project Gutenberg collection.  Our most grateful and sincere thanks goes
to those at 'Catholic Software' who have provided the electronic plain
texts of the 73 books of the Bible.  'Catholic Software' also produces a
Douay Bible program on CD-ROM that features a fully searchable Douay-
Rheims Bible, footnotes, Latin text and dictionary, topical index, maps,
Biblical art gallery, and other features.  For more information of this
and many other products contact:
Catholic Software
Murray, KY 42071
(502) 753-8198
http://www.catholicity.com/market/CSoftware/
waubrey@aol.com
Additional production assistance has been provided by volunteers from
the Atlanta Council of the Knights of Columbus.  Tad Book compiled and
reformatted the texts to Project Gutenberg standards.  Dennis McCarthy
assisted Mr. Book and transcribed selections from the first editions
included as appendices.
This e-text comes from multiple editions of Challoner's revised Douay-
Rheims Version of the Holy Bible.  In 1568 English exiles, many from
Oxford, established the English College of Douay (Douai/Doway), Flanders,
under William (later Cardinal) Allen.  In October, 1578, Gregory Martin
began the work of preparing an English translation of the Bible for
Catholic readers, the first such translation into Modern English.
Assisting were William Allen, Richard Bristow, Thomas Worthington, and
William Reynolds who revised, criticized, and corrected Dr. Martin's
work.  The college published the New Testament at Rheims (Reims/Rhemes),
France, in 1582 through John Fogny with a preface and explanatory notes,
authored chiefly by Bristol, Allen, and Worthington.  Later the Old
Testament was published at Douay in two parts (1609 and 1610) by Laurence
Kellam through the efforts of Dr. Worthington, then superior of the
seminary.  The translation had been prepared before the appearance of the
New Testament, but the publication was delayed due to financial
difficulties.  The religious and scholarly adherence to the Latin Vulgate
text led to the less elegant and idiomatic words and phrases often found
in the translation.  In some instances where no English word conveyed the
full meaning of the Latin, a Latin word was Anglicized and its meaning
defined in a glossary.  Although ridiculed by critics, many of these
words later found common usage in the English language.  Spellings of
proper names and the numbering of the Psalms are adopted from the Latin
In 1749 Dr. Richard Challoner began a major revision of the Douay and
Rheims texts, the spellings and phrasing of which had become increasingly
archaic in the almost two centuries since the translations were first
produced.  He modernized the diction and introduced a more fluid style,
while faithfully maintaining the accuracy of Dr. Martin's texts.  This
revision became the 'de facto' standard text for English speaking
Catholics until the twentieth century.  It is still highly regarded by
many for its style, although it is now rarely used for liturgical
purposes.  The notes included in this electronic edition are generally
attributed to Bishop Challoner.
The 1610 printing of the second tome of the Old Testament includes an
appendix containing the non-canonical books 'Prayer of Manasses,' 'Third
Booke of Esdras,' and 'Fourth Booke of Esdras.'  While not part of
Challoner's revision, the 1610 texts are placed in the appendices of
this e-text.  Also included are the original texts of two short books,
'The Prophecie of Abdias' and 'The Catholike Epistle of Iude the
Apostle,' to give the reader a sense of the language of the first
editions in comparison to the Challoner revision.  Further background on
the Douay-Rheims version may be found in a selection from the preface to
the 1582 edition and the original glossary included in the appendices.
The Old Testament
  Book of Genesis
  Book of Exodus
  Book of Leviticus
  Book of Numbers
  Book of Deuteronomy
  Book of Josue
  Book of Judges
  Book of Ruth
  First Book of Samuel, alias 1 Kings
  Second Book of Samuel, alias 2 Kings
  Third Book of Kings
  Fourth Book of Kings
  First Book of Paralipomenon
  Second Book of Paralipomenon
  First Book of Esdras
  Book of Nehemias, alias 2 Esdras
  Book of Tobias
  Book of Judith
  Book of Esther
  Book of Job
  Book of Psalms
  Book of Proverbs
  Ecclesiastes
  Solomon's Canticle of Canticles
  Book of Wisdom
  Ecclesiasticus
  Prophecy of Isaias
  Prophecy of Jeremias
  Lamentations of Jeremias
  Prophecy of Baruch
  Prophecy of Ezechiel
  Prophecy of Daniel
  Prophecy of Osee
  Prophecy of Joel
  Prophecy of Amos
  Prophecy of Abdias
  Prophecy of Jonas
  Prophecy of Micheas
  Prophecy of Nahum
  Prophecy of Habacuc
  Prophecy of Sophonias
  Prophecy of Aggeus
  Prophecy of Zacharias
  Prophecy of Malachias
  First Book of Machabees
  Second Book of Machabees
The New Testament
  Gospel According to St. Matthew
  Gospel According to St. Mark
  Gospel According to St. Luke
  Gospel According to St. John
  Acts of the Apostles
  Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans
  First Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians
  Second Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians
  Epistle of St. Paul to the Galatians
  Epistle of St. Paul to the Ephesians
  Epistle of St. Paul to the Philippians
  Epistle of St. Paul to the Colossians
  First Epistle of St. Paul to the Thessalonians
  Second Epistle of St. Paul to the Thessalonians
  First Epistle of St. Paul to Timothy
  Second Epistle of St. Paul to Timothy
  Epistle of St. Paul to Titus
  Epistle of St. Paul to Philemon
  Epistle of St. Paul to the Hebrews
  Catholic Epistle of St. James the Apostle
  First Epistle of St. Peter the Apostle
  Second Epistle of St. Peter the Apostle
  First Epistle of St. John the Apostle
  Second Epistle of St. John the Apostle
  Third Epistle of St. John the Apostle
  Catholic Epistle of St. Jude the Apostle
  Apocalypse of St. John the Apostle
  The Prayer of Manasses
  The Third Booke of Esdras
  The Fourth Booke of Esdras
  The Prophecie of Abdias
  The Catholike Epistle of Iude the Apostle
  The Preface to the Reader
  Hard Vvordes Explicated
THE OLD TESTAMENT
THE BOOK OF GENESIS
This book is so called from its treating of the GENERATION, that is, of
the creation and the beginning of the world.  The Hebrews call it
BERESITH, from the Word with which it begins.  It contains not only the
history of the Creation of the world; but also an account of its
progress during the space of 2369 years, that is, until the death of
Genesis Chapter 1
God createth Heaven and Earth, and all things therein, in six days.
1:1. In the beginning God created heaven, and earth.
1:2. And the earth was void and empty, and darkness was upon the face
of the deep; and the spirit of God moved over the waters.
1:3. And God said:  Be light made.  And light was made.
1:4. And God saw the light that it was good; and he divided the light
from the darkness.
1:5. And he called the light Day, and the darkness Night; and there was
evening and morning one day.
1:6. And God said:  Let there be a firmament made amidst the waters:  and
let it divide the waters from the waters.
A firmament. . .By this name is here understood the whole space between
the earth, and the highest stars.  The lower part of which divideth the
waters that are upon the earth, from those that are above in the
1:7. And God made a firmament, and divided the waters that were under
the firmament, from those that were above the firmament, and it was so.
1:8. And God called the firmament, Heaven; and the evening and morning
were the second day.
1:9. God also said; Let the waters that are under the heaven, be
gathered together into one place:  and let the dry land appear.  And it
was so done.
1:10. And God called the dry land, Earth; and the gathering together of
the waters, he called Seas.  And God saw that it was good.
1:11. And he said:  let the earth bring forth green herb, and such as
may seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after its kind, which may
have seed in itself upon the earth.  And it was so done.
1:12. And the earth brought forth the green herb, and such as yieldeth
seed according to its kind, and the tree that beareth fruit, having
seed each one according to its kind.  And God saw that it was good.
1:13. And the evening and the morning were the third day.
1:14. And God said:  Let there be lights made in the firmament of
heaven, to divide the day and the night, and let them be for signs, and
for seasons, and for days and years:
1:15. To shine in the firmament of heaven, and to give light upon the
earth, and it was so done.
1:16. And God made two great lights:  a greater light to rule the day;
and a lesser light to rule the night:  and the stars.
Two great lights. . .God created on the first day, light, which being
moved from east to west, by its rising and setting, made morning and
evening.  But on the fourth day he ordered and distributed this light,
and made the sun, moon, and stars.  The moon, though much less than the
stars, is here called a great light, from its giving a far greater
light to the earth than any of them.
1:17. And he set them in the firmament of heaven to shine upon the
1:18. And to rule the day and the night, and to divide the light and
the darkness.  And God saw that it was good.
1:19. And the evening and morning were the fourth day.
1:20. God also said:  let the waters bring forth the creeping creature
having life, and the fowl that may fly over the earth under the
firmament of heaven.
1:21. And God created the great whales, and every living and moving
creature, which the waters brought forth, according to their kinds, and
every winged fowl according to its kind.  And God saw that it was good.
1:22. And he blessed them, saying:  Increase and multiply, and fill the
waters of the sea:  and let the birds be multiplied upon the earth.
1:23. And the evening and morning were the fifth day.
1:24. And God said:  Let the earth bring forth the living creature in
its kind, cattle and creeping things, and beasts of the earth,
according to their kinds.  And it was so done.
1:25. And God made the beasts of the earth according to their kinds,
and cattle, and every thing that creepeth on the earth after its kind.
And God saw that it was good.
1:26. And he said:  Let us make man to our image and likeness:  and let
him have dominion over the fishes of the sea, and the fowls of the air,
and the beasts, and the whole earth, and every creeping creature that
moveth upon the earth.
Let us make man to our image. . .This image of God in man, is not in the
body, but in the soul; which is a spiritual substance, endued with
understanding and free will.  God speaketh here in the plural number, to
insinuate the plurality of persons in the Deity.
1:27. And God created man to his own image:  to the image of God he
created him:  male and female he created them.
1:28. And God blessed them, saying:  Increase and multiply, and fill the
earth, and subdue it, and rule over the fishes of the sea, and the
fowls of the air, and all living creatures that move upon the earth.
Increase and multiply. . .This is not a precept, as some Protestant
controvertists would have it, but a blessing, rendering them fruitful;
for God had said the same words to the fishes, and birds, (ver. 22) who
were incapable of receiving a precept.
1:29. And God said:  Behold I have given you every herb bearing seed
upon the earth, and all trees that have in themselves seed of their own
kind, to be your meat:
1:30. And to all beasts of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and
to all that move upon the earth, and wherein there is life, that they
may have to feed upon.  And it was so done.
1:31. And God saw all the things that he had made, and they were very
good.  And the evening and morning were the sixth day.
Genesis Chapter 2
God resteth on the seventh day and blesseth it.  The earthly paradise,
in which God placeth man.  He commandeth him not to eat of the tree of
knowledge.  And formeth a woman of his rib.
2:1. So the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the furniture
2:2. And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made:  and
he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had done.
He rested, etc. . .That is, he ceased to make or create any new kinds of
things.  Though, as our Lord tells us, John 5.17, "He still worketh",
viz., by conserving and governing all things, and creating souls.
2:3. And he blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it:  because in it
he had rested from all his work which God created and made.
2:4. These are the generations of the heaven and the earth, when they
were created, in the day that the Lord God made the heaven and the
2:5. And every plant of the field before it sprung up in the earth, and
every herb of the ground before it grew:  for the Lord God had not
rained upon the earth; and there was not a man to till the earth.
2:6. But a spring rose out of the earth, watering all the surface of
2:7. And the Lord God formed man of the slime of the earth:  and
breathed into his face the breath of life, and man became a living
2:8. And the Lord God had planted a paradise of pleasure from the
beginning:  wherein he placed man whom he had formed.
2:9. And the Lord God brought forth of the ground all manner of trees,
fair to behold, and pleasant to eat of:  the tree of life also in the
midst of paradise:  and the tree of knowledge of good and evil.
The tree of life. . .So called because it had that quality, that by
eating of the fruit of it, man would have been preserved in a constant
state of health, vigour, and strength, and would not have died at all.
The tree of knowledge. . .To which the deceitful serpent falsely
attributed the power of imparting a superior kind of knowledge, beyond
that which God was pleased to give.
2:10. And a river went out of the place of pleasure to water paradise,
which from thence is divided into four heads.
2:11. The name of the one is Phison:  that is it which compasseth all
the land of Hevilath, where gold groweth.
2:12. And the gold of that land is very good:  there is found bdellium,
and the onyx stone.
2:13. And the name of the second river is Gehon:  the same is it that
compasseth all the land of Ethiopia.
2:14. And the name of the third river is Tigris:  the same passeth along
by the Assyrians.  And the fourth river is Euphrates.
2:15. And the Lord God took man, and put him into the paradise of
pleasure, to dress it, and to keep it.
2:16. And he commanded him, saying:  Of every tree of paradise thou
2:17. But of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not
eat.  For in what day soever thou shalt eat of it, thou shalt die the
2:18. And the Lord God said:  It is not good for man to be alone:  let us
make him a help like unto himself.
2:19. And the Lord God having formed out of the ground all the beasts
of the earth, and all the fowls of the air, brought them to Adam to see
what he would call them:  for whatsoever Adam called any living creature
the same is its name.
2:20. And Adam called all the beasts by their names, and all the fowls
of the air, and all the cattle of the field:  but for Adam there was not
found a helper like himself.
2:21. Then the Lord God cast a deep sleep upon Adam:  and when he was
fast asleep, he took one of his ribs, and filled up flesh for it.
2:22. And the Lord God built the rib which he took from Adam into a
woman:  and brought her to Adam.
2:23. And Adam said:  This now is bone of my bones, and flesh of my
flesh; she shall be called woman, because she was taken out of man.
2:24. Wherefore a man shall leave father and mother, and shall cleave
to his wife:  and they shall be two in one flesh.
2:25. And they were both naked:  to wit, Adam and his wife:  and were not
Genesis Chapter 3
The serpent's craft.  The fall of our first parents.  Their punishment.
The promise of a Redeemer.
3:1. Now the serpent was more subtle than any of the beasts of the
earth which the Lord God had made.  And he said to the woman:  Why hath
God commanded you, that you should not eat of every tree of paradise?
3:2. And the woman answered him, saying:  Of the fruit of the trees that
are in paradise we do eat:
3:3. But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of paradise,
God hath commanded us that we should not eat; and that we should not
touch it, lest perhaps we die.
3:4. And the serpent said to the woman:  No, you shall not die the
3:5. For God doth know that in what day soever you shall eat thereof,
your eyes shall be opened:  and you shall be as Gods, knowing good and
3:6. And the woman saw that the tree was good to eat, and fair to the
eyes, and delightful to behold:  and she took of the fruit thereof, and
did eat, and gave to her husband, who did eat.
3:7. And the eyes of them both were opened:  and when they perceived
themselves to be naked, they sewed together fig leaves, and made
themselves aprons.
And the eyes, etc. . .Not that they were blind before, (for the woman
saw that the tree was fair to the eyes, ver. 6.) nor yet that their
eyes were opened to any more perfect knowledge of good; but only to the
unhappy experience of having lost the good of original grace and
innocence, and incurred the dreadful evil of sin.  From whence followed
a shame of their being naked; which they minded not before; because
being now stript of original grace, they quickly began to be subject to
the shameful rebellions of the flesh.
3:8. And when they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in paradise
at the afternoon air, Adam and his wife hid themselves from the face of
the Lord God, amidst the trees of paradise.
3:9. And the Lord God called Adam, and said to him:  Where art thou?
3:10. And he said:  I heard thy voice in paradise; and I was afraid,
because I was naked, and I hid myself.
3:11. And he said to him:  And who hath told thee that thou wast naked,
but that thou hast eaten of the tree whereof I commanded thee that thou
shouldst not eat?
3:12. And Adam said:  The woman, whom thou gavest me to be my companion,
gave me of the tree, and I did eat.
3:13. And the Lord God said to the woman:  Why hast thou done this?  And
she answered:  The serpent deceived me, and I did eat.
3:14. And the Lord God said to the serpent:  Because thou hast done this
thing, thou art cursed among all cattle, and beasts of the earth:  upon
thy breast shalt thou go, and earth shalt thou eat all the days of thy
3:15. I will put enmities between thee and the woman, and thy seed and
her seed:  she shall crush thy head, and thou shalt lie in wait for her
She shall crush. . .Ipsa, the woman; so divers of the fathers read this
place, conformably to the Latin:  others read it ipsum, viz., the seed.
The sense is the same:  for it is by her seed, Jesus Christ, that the
woman crushes the serpent's head.
3:16. To the woman also he said:  I will multiply thy sorrows, and thy
conceptions:  in sorrow shalt thou bring forth children, and thou shalt
be under thy husband's power, and he shall have dominion over thee.
3:17. And to Adam he said:  Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of
thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded thee, that
thou shouldst not eat, cursed is the earth in thy work:  with labour and
toil shalt thou eat thereof all the days of thy life.
3:18. Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to thee, and thou shalt
eat the herbs of the earth.
3:19. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread till thou return to
the earth out of which thou wast taken:  for dust thou art, and into
dust thou shalt return.
3:20. And Adam called the name of his wife Eve:  because she was the
mother of all the living.
3:21. And the Lord God made for Adam and his wife garments of skins,
and clothed them.
3:22. And he said:  Behold Adam is become as one of us, knowing good and
evil:  now therefore lest perhaps he put forth his hand and take also of
the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever.
Behold Adam, etc. . .This was spoken by way of reproaching him with his
pride, in affecting a knowledge that might make him like to God.
3:23. And the Lord God sent him out of the paradise of pleasure, to
till the earth from which he was taken.
3:24. And he cast out Adam:  and placed before the paradise of pleasure
Cherubims, and a flaming sword, turning every way, to keep the way of
the tree of life.
Genesis Chapter 4
The history of Cain and Abel.
4:1. And Adam knew Eve his wife; who conceived and brought forth Cain,
saying:  I have gotten a man through God.
4:2. And again she brought forth his brother Abel.  And Abel was a
shepherd, and Cain a husbandman.
4:3. And it came to pass after many days, that Cain offered, of the
fruits of the earth, gifts to the Lord.
4:4. Abel also offered of the firstlings of his flock, and of their
fat:  and the Lord had respect to Abel, and to his offerings.
Had respect. . .That is, shewed his acceptance of his sacrifice (as
coming from a heart full of devotion):  and that, as we may suppose, by
some visible token, such as sending fire from heaven upon his
4:5. But to Cain and his offerings he had no respect:  and Cain was
exceeding angry, and his countenance fell.
4:6. And the Lord said to him:  Why art thou angry?  and why is thy
countenance fallen?
4:7. If thou do well, shalt thou not receive?  but if ill, shall not sin
forthwith be present at the door?  but the lust thereof shall be under
thee, and thou shalt have dominion over it.
4:8. And Cain said to Abel his brother:  Let us go forth abroad.  And
when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel, and
4:9. And the Lord said to Cain:  Where is thy brother Abel?  And he
answered:  I know not:  am I my brother's keeper?
4:10. And he said to him:  What hast thou done?  the voice of thy
brother's blood crieth to me from the earth.
4:11. Now therefore cursed shalt thou be upon the earth, which hath
opened her mouth and received the blood of thy brother at thy hand.
4:12. When thou shalt till it, it shall not yield to thee its fruit:  a
fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be upon the earth.
4:13. And Cain said to the Lord:  My iniquity is greater than that I may
deserve pardon.
4:14. Behold thou dost cast me out this day from the face of the earth,
and from thy face I shall be hid, and I shall be a vagabond and a
fugitive on the earth:  every one therefore that findeth me, shall kill
Every one that findeth me shall kill me. . .His guilty conscience made
him fear his own brothers and nephews; of whom, by this time, there
might be a good number upon the earth; which had now endured near 130
years; as may be gathered from Gen. 5.3, compared with chap. 4.25,
though in the compendious account given in the scriptures, only Cain
and Abel are mentioned.
4:15. And the Lord said to him:  No, it shall not so be:  but whosoever
shall kill Cain, shall be punished sevenfold.  And the Lord set a mark
upon Cain, that whosoever found him should not kill him.
Set a mark, etc. . .The more common opinion of the interpreters of holy
writ supposes this mark to have been a trembling of the body; or a
horror and consternation in his countenance.
4:16. And Cain went out from the face of the Lord, and dwelt as a
fugitive on the earth at the east side of Eden.
4:17. And Cain knew his wife, and she conceived, and brought forth
Henoch:  and he built a city, and called the name thereof by the name of
his son Henoch.
His wife. . .She was a daughter of Adam, and Cain's own sister; God
dispensing with such marriages in the beginning of the world, as
mankind could not otherwise be propagated.  He built a city, viz. . .In
process of time, when his race was multiplied, so as to be numerous
enough to people it.  For in the many hundred years he lived, his race
might be multiplied even to millions.
4:18. And Henoch begot Irad, and Irad begot Maviael, and Maviael begot
Mathusael, and Mathusael begot Lamech,
4:19. Who took two wives:  the name of the one was Ada, and the name of
the other Sella.
4:20. And Ada brought forth Jabel:  who was the father of such as dwell
in tents, and of herdsmen.
4:21. And his brother's name was Jubal:  he was the father of them that
play upon the harp and the organs.
4:22. Sella also brought forth Tubalcain, who was a hammerer and
artificer in every work of brass and iron.  And the sister of Tubalcain
4:23. And Lamech said to his wives Ada and Sella:  Hear my voice, ye
wives of Lamech, hearken to my speech:  for I have slain a man to the
wounding of myself, and a stripling to my own bruising.
I have slain a man, etc. . .It is the tradition of the Hebrews, that
Lamech in hunting slew Cain, mistaking him for a wild beast; and that
having discovered what he had done, he beat so unmercifully the youth,
by whom he was led into that mistake, that he died of the blows.
4:24. Sevenfold vengeance shall be taken for Cain:  but for Lamech
seventy times sevenfold.
4:25. Adam also knew his wife again:  and she brought forth a son, and
called his name Seth, saying:  God hath given me another seed for Abel,
whom Cain slew.
4:26. But to Seth also was born a son, whom he called Enos:  this man
began to call upon the name of the Lord.
Began to call upon, etc. . .Not that Adam and Seth had not called upon
God, before the birth of Enos; but that Enos used more solemnity in the
worship and invocation of God.
Genesis Chapter 5
The genealogy, age, and death of the Patriarchs, from Adam to Noe.  The
translation of Henoch.
5:1. This is the book of the generation of Adam.  In the day that God
created man, he made him to the likeness of God.
5:2. He created them male and female; and blessed them:  and called
their name Adam, in the day when they were created.
5:3. And Adam lived a hundred and thirty years, and begot a son to his
own image and likeness, and called his name Seth.
5:4. And the days of Adam, after he begot Seth, were eight hundred
years:  and he begot sons and daughters.
5:5. And all the time that Adam lived, came to nine hundred and thirty
years, and he died.
5:6. Seth also lived a hundred and five years, and begot Enos.
5:7. And Seth lived after he begot Enos, eight hundred and seven years,
and begot sons and daughters.
5:8. And all the days of Seth were nine hundred and twelve years, and
5:9. And Enos lived ninety years, and begot Cainan.
5:10. After whose birth he lived eight hundred and fifteen years, and
begot sons and daughters.
5:11. And all the days of Enos were nine hundred and five years, and he
5:12. And Cainan lived seventy years, and begot Malaleel.
5:13. And Cainan lived after he begot Malaleel, eight hundred and forty
years, and begot sons and daughters.
5:14. And all the days of Cainan were nine hundred and ten years, and
5:15. And Malaleel lived sixty-five years and begot Jared.
5:16. And Malaleel lived after he begot Jared, eight hundred and thirty
years, and begot sons and daughters.
5:17. And all the days of Malaleel were eight hundred and ninety-five
years, and he died.
5:18. And Jared lived a hundred and sixty-two years, and begot Henoch.
5:19. And Jared lived after he begot Henoch, eight hundred years, and
begot sons and daughters.
5:20. And all the days of Jared were nine hundred and sixty-two years,
and he died.
5:21. And Henoch lived sixty-five years, and begot Mathusala.
5:22. And Henoch walked with God:  and lived after he begot Mathusala,
three hundred years, and begot sons and daughters.
5:23. And all the days of Henoch were three hundred and sixty-five
5:24. And he walked with God, and was seen no more:  because God took
5:25. And Mathusala lived a hundred and eighty-seven years, and begot
5:26. And Mathlusala lived after he begot Lamech, seven hundred and
eighty-two years, and begot sons and daughters.
5:27. And all the days of Mathusala were nine hundred and sixty-nine
years, and he died.
5:28. And Lamech lived a hundred and eighty-two years, and begot a son.
5:29. And he called his name Noe, saying:  This same shall comfort us
from the works and labours of our hands on the earth, which the Lord
hath cursed.
5:30. And Lamech lived after he begot Noe, five hundred and ninety-five
years, and begot sons and daughters.
5:31. And all the days of Lamech came to seven hundred and
seventy-seven years, and he died.  And Noe, when he was five hundred
years old, begot Sem, Cham, and Japheth.
Genesis Chapter 6
Man's sin is the cause of the deluge.  Noe is commanded to build the
6:1. And after that men began to be multiplied upon the earth, and
daughters were born to them,
6:2. The sons of God seeing the daughters of men, that they were fair,
took to themselves wives of all which they chose.
The sons of God. . .The descendants of Seth and Enos are here called
sons of God from their religion and piety:  whereas the ungodly race of
Cain, who by their carnal affections lay grovelling upon the earth, are
called the children of men.  The unhappy consequence of the former
marrying with the latter, ought to be a warning to Christians to be
very circumspect in their marriages; and not to suffer themselves to be
determined in their choice by their carnal passion, to the prejudice of
virtue or religion.
6:3. And God said:  My spirit shall not remain in man for ever, because
he is flesh, and his days shall be a hundred and twenty years.
His days shall be, etc. . .The meaning is, that man's days, which before
the flood were usually 900 years, should now be reduced to 120 years.
Or rather, that God would allow men this term of 120 years, for their
repentance and conversion, before he would send the deluge.
6:4. Now giants were upon the earth in those days.  For after the sons
of God went in to the daughters of men, and they brought forth
children, these are the mighty men of old, men of renown.
Giants. . .It is likely the generality of men before the flood were of a
gigantic stature in comparison with what men now are.  But these here
spoken of are called giants, as being not only tall in stature, but
violent and savage in their dispositions, and mere monsters of cruelty
6:5. And God seeing that the wickedness of men was great on the earth,
and that all the thought of their heart was bent upon evil at all
6:6. It repented him that he had made man on the earth.  And being
touched inwardly with sorrow of heart,
It repented him, etc. . .God, who is unchangeable, is not capable of
repentance, grief, or any other passion.  But these expressions are used
to declare the enormity of the sins of men, which was so provoking as
to determine their Creator to destroy these his creatures, whom before
he had so much favoured.
6:7. He said:  I will destroy man, whom I have created, from the face of
the earth, from man even to beasts, from the creeping thing even to the
fowls of the air, for it repenteth me that I have made them.
6:8. But Noe found grace before the Lord.
6:9. These are the generations of Noe:  Noe was a just and perfect man
in his generations, he walked with God.
6:10. And he begot three sons, Sem, Cham, and Japheth.
6:11. And the earth was corrupted before God, and was filled with
6:12. And when God had seen that the earth was corrupted (for all flesh
had corrupted its way upon the earth),
6:13. He said to Noe:  The end of all flesh is come before me, the earth
is filled with iniquity through them, and I will destroy them with the
6:14. Make thee an ark of timber planks:  thou shalt make little rooms
in the ark, and thou shalt pitch it within and without.
6:15. And thus shalt thou make it.  The length of the ark shall be three
hundred cubits:  the breadth of it fifty cubits, and the height of it
thirty cubits.
Three hundred cubits, etc. . .The ark, according to the dimensions here
set down, contained four hundred and fifty thousand square cubits;
which was more than enough to contain all the kinds of living
creatures, with all necessary provisions:  even supposing the cubits
here spoken of to have been only a foot and a half each, which was the
least kind of cubits.
6:16. Thou shalt make a window in the ark, and in a cubit shalt thou
finish the top of it:  and the door of the ark thou shalt set in the
side:  with lower, middle chambers, and third stories shalt thou make
6:17. Behold, I will bring the waters of a great flood upon the earth,
to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life under heaven.  All
things that are in the earth shall be consumed.
6:18. And I will establish my covenant with thee, and thou shalt enter
into the ark, thou and thy sons, and thy wife, and the wives of thy
sons with thee.
6:19. And of every living creature of all flesh, thou shalt bring two
of a sort into the ark, that they may live with thee:  of the male sex,
and the female.
6:20. Of fowls according to their kind, and of beasts in their kind,
and of every thing that creepeth on the earth according to its kind:
two of every sort shall go in with thee, that they may live.
6:21. Thou shalt take unto thee of all food that may be eaten, and thou
shalt lay it up with thee:  and it shall be food for thee and them.
6:22. And Noe did all things which God commanded him.
Genesis Chapter 7
Noe with his family go into the ark.  The deluge overflows the earth.
7:1. And the Lord said to him:  Go in, thou and all thy house, into the
ark:  for thee I have seen just before me in this generation.
7:2. Of all clean beasts take seven and seven, the male and the female.
Of all clean. . .The distinction of clean and unclean beasts appears to
have been made before the law of Moses, which was not promulgated till
the year of the world 2514.
7:3. But of the beasts that are unclean two and two, the male and the
female.  Of the fowls also of the air seven and seven, the male and the
female:  that seed may be saved upon the face of the whole earth.
7:4. For yet a while, and after seven days, I will rain upon the earth
forty days and forty nights:  and I will destroy every substance that I
have made, from the face of the earth.
7:5. And Noe did all things which the Lord had commanded him.
7:6. And he was six hundred years old, when the waters of the flood
overflowed the earth.
7:7. And Noe went in and his sons, his wife and the wives of his sons
with him into the ark, because of the waters of the flood.
7:8. And of beasts clean and unclean, and of fowls, and of every thing
that moveth upon the earth,
7:9. Two and two went in to Noe into the ark, male and female, as the
Lord had commanded Noe.
7:10. And after the seven days were passed, the waters of the flood
overflowed the earth.
7:11. In the six hundredth year of the life of Noe, in the second
month, in the seventeenth day of the month, all the fountains of the
great deep were broken up, and the floodgates of heaven were opened:
7:12. And the rain fell upon the earth forty days and forty nights.
7:13. In the selfsame day Noe, and Sem, and Cham, and Japheth, his
sons:  his wife, and the three wives of his sons with them, went into
7:14. They and every beast according to its kind, and all the cattle in
their kind, and every thing that moveth upon the earth, according to
its kind, and every fowl according to its kind, all birds, and all that
7:15. Went in to Noe into the ark, two and two of all flesh, wherein
was the breath of life.
7:16. And they that went in, went in male and female of all flesh, as
God had commanded him:  and the Lord shut him in on the outside.
7:17. And the flood was forty days upon the earth:  and the waters
increased, and lifted up the ark on high from the earth.
7:18. For they overflowed exceedingly:  and filled all on the face of
the earth:  and the ark was carried upon the waters.
7:19. And the waters prevailed beyond measure upon the earth:  and all
the high mountains under the whole heaven were covered.
7:20. The water was fifteen cubits higher than the mountains which it
7:21. And all flesh was destroyed that moved upon the earth, both of
fowl and of cattle, and of beasts, and of all creeping things that
creep upon the earth:  and all men.
7:22. And all things wherein there is the breath of life on the earth,
7:23. And he destroyed all the substance that was upon the earth, from
man even to beast, and the creeping things and fowls of the air:  and
they were destroyed from the earth:  and Noe only remained, and they
that were with him in the ark.
7:24. And the waters prevailed upon the earth a hundred and fifty days.
Genesis Chapter 8
The deluge ceaseth.  Noe goeth out of the ark, and offereth a sacrifice.
God's covenant to him.
8:1. And God remembered Noe, and all the living creatures, and all the
cattle which were with him in the ark, and brought a wind upon the
earth, and the waters were abated:
8:2. The fountains also of the deep, and the floodgates of heaven, were
shut up, and the rain from heaven was restrained.
8:3. And the waters returned from off the earth going and coming:  and
they began to be abated after a hundred and fifty days.
8:4. And the ark rested in the seventh month, the seven and twentieth
day of the month, upon the mountains of Armenia.
8:5. And the waters were going and decreasing until the tenth month:
for in the tenth month, the first day of the month, the tops of the
mountains appeared.
8:6. And after that forty days were passed, Noe opening the window of
the ark, which he had made, sent forth a raven:
8:7. Which went forth and did not return, till the waters were dried up
upon the earth.
Did not return. . .The raven did not return into the ark; but (as it may
be gathered from the Hebrew) went to and fro; sometimes going to the
mountains, where it found carcasses to feed on:  and other times
returning, to rest upon the top of the ark.
8:8. He sent forth also a dove after him, to see if the waters had now
ceased upon the face of the earth.
8:9. But she not finding where her foot might rest, returned to him
into the ark:  for the waters were upon the whole earth:  and he put
forth his hand, and caught her, and brought her into the ark.
8:10. And having waited yet seven other days, he again sent forth the
dove out of the ark.
8:11. And she came to him in the evening carrying a bough of an olive
tree, with green leaves, in her mouth.  Noe therefore understood that
the waters were ceased upon the earth.
8:12. And he stayed yet other seven days:  and he sent forth the dove,
which returned not any more unto him.
8:13. Therefore in the six hundredth and first year, the first month,
the first day of the month, the waters were lessened upon the earth,
and Noe opening the covering of the ark, looked, and saw that the face
of the earth was dried.
8:14. In the second month, the seven and twentieth day of the month,
the earth was dried.
8:15. And God spoke to Noe, saying:
8:16. Go out of the ark, thou and thy wife, thy sons and the wives of
thy sons with thee.
8:17. All living things that are with thee of all flesh, as well in
fowls as in beasts, and all creeping things that creep upon the earth,
bring out with thee, and go ye upon the earth:  increase and multiply
8:18. So Noe went out, he and his sons:  his wife, and the wives of his
sons with him.
8:19. And all living things, and cattle, and creeping things that creep
upon the earth, according to their kinds went out of the ark.
8:20. And Noe built an altar unto the Lord:  and taking of all cattle
and fowls that were clean, offered holocausts upon the altar.
Holocausts,. . .or whole burnt offerings.  In which the whole victim was
consumed by fire upon God's altar, and no part was reserved for the use
of priest or people.
8:21. And the Lord smelled a sweet savour, and said:  I will no more
curse the earth for the sake of man:  for the imagination and thought of
man's heart are prone to evil from his youth:  therefore I will no more
destroy every living soul as I have done.
Smelled, etc. . .A figurative expression, denoting that God was well
pleased with the sacrifices which his servant offered.
8:22. All the days of the earth, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat,
summer and winter, night and day, shall not cease.
Genesis Chapter 9
God blesseth Noe:  forbiddeth blood, and promiseth never more to destroy
the world by water.  The blessing of Sem and Japheth.
9:1. And God blessed Noe and his sons.  And he said to them:  Increase,
and multiply, and fill the earth.
9:2. And let the fear and dread of you be upon all the beasts of the
earth, and upon all the fowls of the air, and all that move upon the
earth:  all the fishes of the sea are delivered into your hand.
9:3. And every thing that moveth, and liveth shall be meat for you:
even as the green herbs have I delivered them all to you:
9:4. Saving that flesh with blood you shall not eat.
9:5. For I will require the blood of your lives at the hand of every
beast, and at the hand of man, at the hand of every man, and of his
brother, will I require the life of man.
9:6. Whosoever shall shed man's blood, his blood shall be shed:  for man
was made to the image of God.
9:7. But increase you and multiply, and go upon the earth and fill it.
9:8. Thus also said God to Noe, and to his sons with him:
9:9. Behold I will establish my covenant with you, and with your seed
9:10. And with every living soul that is with you, as well in all
birds, as in cattle and beasts of the earth, that are come forth out of
the ark, and in all the beasts of the earth.
9:11. I will establish my covenant with you, and all flesh shall be no
more destroyed with the waters of a flood, neither shall there be from
henceforth a flood to waste the earth.
9:12. And God said:  This is the sign of the covenant which I give
between me and you, and to every living soul that is with you, for
perpetual generations.
9:13. I will set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be the sign of a
covenant between me and between the earth.
9:14. And when I shall cover the sky with clouds, my bow shall appear
in the clouds:
9:15. And I will remember my covenant with you, and with every living
soul that beareth flesh:  and there shall no more be waters of a flood
to destroy all flesh.
9:16. And the bow shall be in the clouds, and I shall see it, and shall
remember the everlasting covenant, that was made between God and every
living soul of all flesh which is upon the earth.
9:17. And God said to Noe:  This shall be the sign of the covenant,
which I have established, between me and all flesh upon the earth.
9:18. And the sons of Noe, who came out of the ark, were Sem, Cham, and
Japheth:  and Cham is the father of Chanaan.
9:19. These three are the sons of Noe:  and from these was all mankind
spread over the whole earth.
9:20. And Noe a husbandman began to till the ground, and planted a
9:21. And drinking of the wine was made drunk, and was uncovered in his
Drunk. . .Noe by the judgment of the fathers was not guilty of sin, in
being overcome by wine:  because he knew not the strength of it.
9:22. Which when Cham the father of Chanaan had seen, to wit, that his
father's nakedness was uncovered, he told it to his two brethren
9:23. But Sem and Japheth put a cloak upon their shoulders, and going
backward, covered the nakedness of their father:  and their faces were
turned away, and they saw not their father's nakedness.
Covered the nakedness. . .Thus, as St. Gregory takes notice L. 35;
Moral. c. 22, we ought to cover the nakedness, that is, the sins, of
our spiritual parents and superiors.
9:24. And Noe awaking from the wine, when he had learned what his
younger son had done to him,
9:25. He said:  Cursed be Chanaan, a servant of servants shall he be
unto his brethren.
Cursed be Chanaan. . .The curses, as well as the blessings, of the
patriarchs, were prophetical:  And this in particular is here recorded
by Moses, for the children of Israel, who were to possess the land of
Chanaan.  But why should Chanaan be cursed for his father's faults?  The
Hebrews answer, that he being then a boy, was the first that saw his
grandfather's nakedness, and told his father Cham of it; and joined
with him in laughing at it:  which drew upon him, rather than upon the
rest of the children of Cham, this prophetical curse.
9:26. And he said:  Blessed be the Lord God of Sem, be Chanaan his
9:27. May God enlarge Japheth, and may he dwell in the tents of Sem,
and Chanaan be his servant.
9:28. And Noe lived after the flood three hundred and fifty years.
9:29. And all his days were in the whole nine hundred and fifty years:
and he died.
Genesis Chapter 10
The genealogy of the children of Noe, by whom the world was peopled
after the flood.
10:1. These are the generations of the sons of Noe:  Sem, Cham, and
Japheth:  and unto them sons were born after the flood.
10:2. The sons of Japheth:  Gomer, and Magog, and Madai, and Javan, and
Thubal, and Mosoch, and Thiras.
10:3. And the sons of Gomer:  Ascenez and Riphath and Thogorma.
10:4. And the sons of Javan:  Elisa and Tharsis, Cetthim and Dodanim.
10:5. By these were divided the islands of the Gentiles in their lands,
every one according to his tongue and their families in their nations.
The islands. . .So the Hebrews called all the remote countries, to which
they went by ships from Judea, to Greece, Italy, Spain, etc.
10:6. And the Sons of Cham:  Chus, and Mesram, and Phuth, and Chanaan.
10:7. And the sons of Chus:  Saba, and Hevila, and Sabatha, and Regma,
and Sabatacha.  The sons of Regma:  Saba, and Dadan.
10:8. Now Chus begot Nemrod:  he began to be mighty on the earth.
10:9. And he was a stout hunter before the Lord.  Hence came a proverb:
Even as Nemrod the stout hunter before the Lord.
A stout hunter. . .Not of beasts but of men:  whom by violence and
tyranny he brought under his dominion.  And such he was, not only in the
opinion of men, but before the Lord, that is, in his sight who cannot
be deceived.
10:10. And the beginning of his kingdom was Babylon, and Arach, and
Achad, and Chalanne in the land of Sennaar.
10:11. Out of that land came forth Assur, and built Ninive, and the
streets of the city, and Chale.
10:12. Resen also between Ninive and Chale:  this is the great city.
10:13. And Mesraim begot Ludim, and Anamim and Laabim, Nephthuim.
10:14. And Phetrusim, and Chasluim; of whom came forth the Philistines,
and the Capthorim.
10:15. And Chanaan begot Sidon his firstborn, the Hethite,
10:16. And the Jebusite, and the Amorrhite, and the Gergesite.
10:17. The Hevite and Aracite:  the Sinite,
10:18. And the Aradian, the Samarite, and the Hamathite:  and afterwards
the families of the Chanaanites were spread abroad.
10:19. And the limits of Chanaan were from Sidon as one comes to Gerara
even to Gaza, until thou enter Sodom and Gomorrha, and Adama, and
Seboim even to Lesa.
10:20. These are the children of Cham in their kindreds and tongues,
and generations, and lands, and nations.
10:21. Of Sem also the father of all the children of Heber, the elder
brother of Japheth, sons were born.
10:22. The sons of Sem:  Elam and Assur, and Arphaxad, and Lud, and
10:23. The sons of Aram:  Us, and Hull, and Gether; and Mes.
10:24. But Arphaxad begot Sale, of whom was born Heber.
10:25. And to Heber were born two sons:  the name of the one was Phaleg,
because in his days was the earth divided:  and his brother's name
10:26. Which Jectan begot Elmodad, and Saleph, and Asarmoth, Jare,
10:27. And Aduram, and Uzal, and Decla,
10:28. And Ebal, and Abimael, Saba,
10:29. And Ophir, and Hevila, and Jobab.  All these were the sons of
10:30. And their dwelling was from Messa as we go on as far as Sephar,
a mountain in the east.
10:31. These are the children of Sem according to their kindreds and
tongues, and countries in their nations.
10:32. These are the families of Noe, according to their people and
nations.  By these were the nations divided on the earth after the
Genesis Chapter 11
The tower of Babel.  The confusion of tongues.  The genealogy of Sem down
11:1. And the earth was of one tongue, and of the same speech.
11:2. And when they removed from the east, they found a plain in the
land of Sennaar, and dwelt in it.
11:3. And each one said to his neighbour:  Come let us make brick, and
bake them with fire.  And they had brick instead of stones, and slime
instead of mortar:
11:4. And they said:  Come, let us make a city and a tower, the top
whereof may reach to heaven; and let us make our name famous before we
be scattered abroad into all lands.
11:5. And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the
children of Adam were building.
11:6. And he said:  Behold, it is one people, and all have one tongue:
and they have begun to do this, neither will they leave off from their
designs, till they accomplish them in deed.
11:7. Come ye, therefore, let us go down, and there confound their
tongue, that they may not understand one another's speech.
11:8. And so the Lord scattered them from that place into all lands,
and they ceased to build the city.
11:9. And therefore the name thereof was called Babel, because there
the language of the whole earth was confounded:  and from thence the
Lord scattered them abroad upon the face of all countries.
Babel. . .That is, confusion.
11:10. These are the generations of Sem:  Sem was a hundred years old
when he begot Arphaxad, two years after the flood.
11:11. And Sem lived after he begot Arphaxad, five hundred years, and
begot sons and daughters.
11:12. And Arphaxad lived thirty-five years, and begot Sale.
11:13. And Arphaxad lived after he begot Sale, three hundred and three
years, and begot sons and daughters.
11:14. Sale also lived thirty years, and begot Heber.
11:15. And Sale lived after he begot Heber, four hundred and three
years:  and begot sons and daughters.
11:16. And Heber lived thirty-four years, and begot Phaleg.
11:17. And Heber lived after he begot Phaleg, four hundred and thirty
years:  and begot sons and daughters.
11:18. Phaleg also lived thirty years, and begot Reu.
11:19. And Phaleg lived after he begot Reu, two hundred and nine years,
and begot sons and daughters.
11:20. And Reu lived thirty-two years, and begot Sarug.
11:21. And Reu lived after he begot Sarug, two hundred and seven years,
and begot sons and daughters.
11:22. And Sarug lived thirty years, and begot Nachor.
11:23. And Sarug lived after he begot Nachor, two hundred years, and
begot sons and daughters.
11:24. And Nachor lived nine and twenty years, and begot Thare.
11:25. And Nachor lived after he begot Thare, a hundred and nineteen
years, and begot sons and daughters.
11:26. And Thare lived seventy years, and begot Abram, and Nachor, and
11:27. And these are the generations of Thare:  Thare begot Abram,
Nachor, and Aran.  And Aran begot Lot.
11:28. And Aran died before Thare his father, in the land of his
nativity in Ur of the Chaldees.
11:29. And Abram and Nachor married wives:  the name of Abram's wife was
Sarai:  and the name of Nachor's wife, Melcha, the daughter of Aran,
father of Melcha and father of Jescha.
11:30. And Sarai was barren, and had no children.
11:31. And Thare took Abram his son, and Lot the son of Aran, his son's
son, and Sarai his daughter in law, the wife of Abram his son, and
brought them out of Ur of the Chaldees, to go into the land of Chanaan:
and they came as far as Haran, and dwelt there.
11:32. And the days of Thare were two hundred and five years, and he
died in Haran.
Genesis Chapter 12
The call of Abram, and the promise made to him.  He sojourneth in
Chanaan, and then by occasion of a famine, goeth down to Egypt.
12:1. And the Lord said to Abram:  Go forth out of thy country, and from
thy kindred, and out of thy father's house, and come into the land
which I shall shew thee.
12:2. And I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee,
and magnify thy name, and thou shalt be blessed.
12:3. I will bless them that bless thee, and curse them that curse
thee, and IN THEE shall all the kindreds of the earth be blessed.
12:4. So Abram went out as the Lord had commanded him, and Lot went
with him:  Abram was seventy-five years old when he went forth from
12:5. And he took Sarai his wife, and Lot his brother's son, and all
the substance which they had gathered, and the souls which they had
gotten in Haran:  and they went out to go into the land of Chanaan.  And
when they were come into it,
12:6. Abram passed through the country unto the place of Sichem, as far
as the noble vale:  now the Chanaanite was at that time in the land.
12:7. And the Lord appeared to Abram, and said to him:  To thy seed will
I give this land.  And he built there an altar to the Lord, who had
appeared to him.
12:8. And passing on from thence to a mountain, that was on the east
side of Bethel, he there pitched his tent, having Bethel on the west,
and Hai on the east:  he built there also an altar to the Lord, and
called upon his name.
12:9. And Abram went forward, going and proceeding on to the south.
12:10. And there came a famine in the country:  and Abram went down into
Egypt, to sojourn there:  for the famine was very grievous in the land.
12:11. And when he was near to enter into Egypt, he said to Sarai his
wife:  I know that thou art a beautiful woman:
12:12. And that when the Egyptians shall see thee, they will say:  She
is his wife:  and they will kill me, and keep thee.
12:13. Say, therefore, I pray thee, that thou art my sister:  that I may
be well used for thee, and that my soul may live for thy sake.
My sister. . .This was no lie; because she was his niece, being daughter
to his brother Aran, and therefore, in the style of the Hebrews, she
might truly be called his sister, as Lot is called Abram's brother,
Gen. 14.14.  See Gen. 20.12.
12:14. And when Abram was come into Egypt, the Egyptians saw the woman
that she was very beautiful.
12:15. And the princes told Pharao, and praised her before him:  and the
woman was taken into the house of Pharao.
12:16. And they used Abram well for her sake.  And he had sheep and oxen
and he asses, and men servants, and maid servants, and she asses, and
12:17. But the Lord scourged Pharao and his house with most grievous
stripes for Sarai, Abram's wife.
12:18. And Pharao called Abram, and said to him:  What is this that thou
hast done to me?  Why didst thou not tell me that she was thy wife?
12:19. For what cause didst thou say, she was thy sister, that I might
take her to my wife?  Now therefore there is thy wife, take her, and go
12:20. And Pharao gave his men orders concerning Abram:  and they led
him away and his wife, and all that he had.
Genesis Chapter 13
Abram and Lot part from each other.  God's promise to Abram.
13:1. And Abram went up out of Egypt, he and his wife, and all that he
had, and Lot with him into the south.
13:2. And he was very rich in possession of gold and silver.
13:3. And he returned by the way, that he came, from the south to
Bethel, to the place where before he had pitched his tent between
Bethel and Hai,
13:4. In the place of the altar which he had made before, and there he
called upon the name of the Lord.
13:5. But Lot also, who was with Abram, had flocks of sheep, and herds
of beasts, and tents.
13:6. Neither was the land able to bear them, that they might dwell
together:  for their substance was great, and they could not dwell
13:7. Whereupon also there arose a strife between the herdsmen of Abram
and of Lot.  And at that time the Chanaanite and the Pherezite dwelled
in that country.
13:8. Abram therefore said to Lot:  Let there be no quarrel, I beseech
thee, between me and thee, and between my herdsmen and thy herdsmen:
for we are brethren.
13:9. Behold the whole land is before thee:  depart from me, I pray
thee:  if thou wilt go to the left hand, I will take the right:  if thou
choose the right hand, I will pass to the left.
13:10. And Lot lifting up his eyes, saw all the country about the
Jordan, which was watered throughout, before the Lord destroyed Sodom
and Gomorrha, as the paradise of the Lord, and like Egypt as one comes
13:11. And Lot chose to himself the country about the Jordan, and he
departed from the east:  and they were separated one brother from the
13:12. Abram dwelt in the land of Chanaan:  and Lot abode in the towns,
that were about the Jordan, and dwelt in Sodom.
13:13. And the men of Sodom were very wicked, and sinners before the
face of the Lord beyond measure.
13:14. And the Lord said to Abram, after Lot was separated from him:
Lift up thy eyes, and look from the place wherein thou now art, to the
north and to the south, to the east and to the west.
13:15. All the land which thou seest, I will give to thee, and to thy
seed for ever.
13:16. And I will make thy seed as the dust of the earth:  if any man be
able to number the dust of the earth, he shall be able to number thy
13:17. Arise and walk through the land in the length, and the breadth
thereof:  for I will give it to thee.
13:18. So Abram removing his tent, came, and dwelt by the vale of
Mambre, which is in Hebron:  and he built there an altar to the Lord.
Genesis Chapter 14
The expedition of the four kings; the victory of Abram; he is blessed
by Melchisedech.
14:1. And it came to pass at that time, that Amraphel, king of Sennaar,
and Arioch, king of Pontus, and Chodorlahomor, king of the Elamites,
and Thadal, king of nations,
14:2. Made war against Bara, king of Sodom, and against Bersa, king of
Gomorrha, and against Sennaab, king of Adama, and against Semeber, king
of Seboim, and against the king of Bala, which is Segor.
14:3. All these came together into the woodland vale, which now is the
14:4. For they had served Chodorlahomor twelve years, and in the
thirteenth year they revolted from him.
14:5. And in the fourteenth year came Chodorlahomor, and the kings that
were with him:  and they smote the Raphaim in Astarothcarnaim, and the
Zuzim with them, and the Emim in Save of Cariathaim.
14:6. And the Chorreans in the mountains of Seir, even to the plains of
Pharan, which is in the wilderness.
14:7. And they returned, and came to the fountain of Misphat, the same
is Cades:  and they smote all the country of the Amalecites, and the
Amorrhean that dwelt in Asasonthamar.
14:8. And the king of Sodom, and the king of Gomorrha, and the king of
Adama, and the king of Seboim, and the king of Bala, which is Segor,
went out:  and they set themselves against them in battle array, in the
woodland vale:
14:9. To wit, against Chodorlahomor king of the Elamites, and Thadal
king of nations, and Amraphel king of Sennaar, and Arioch king of
Pontus:  four kings against five.
14:10. Now the woodland vale had many pits of slime.  And the king of
Sodom, and the king of Gomorrha turned their backs, and were overthrown
there:  and they that remained, fled to the mountain.
Of slime.  Bituminis. . .This was a kind of pitch, which served for
mortar in the building of Babel, Gen. 11.3, and was used by Noe in
pitching the ark.
14:11. And they took all the substance of the Sodomites, and
Gomorrhites, and all their victuals, and went their way:
14:12. And Lot also, the son of Abram's brother, who dwelt in Sodom,
and his substance.
14:13. And behold one, that had escaped, told Abram the Hebrew, who
dwelt in the vale of Mambre the Amorrhite, the brother of Escol, and
the brother of Aner:  for these had made a league with Abram.
14:14. Which when Abram had heard, to wit, that his brother Lot was
taken, he numbered of the servants born in his house, three hundred and
eighteen, well appointed:  and pursued them to Dan.
14:15. And dividing his company, he rushed upon them in the night, and
defeated them:  and pursued them as far as Hoba, which is on the left
hand of Damascus.
14:16. And he brought back all the substance, and Lot his brother, with
his substance, the women also, and the people.
14:17. And the king of Sodom went out to meet him, after he returned
from the slaughter of Chodorlahomor, and of the kings that were with
him in the vale of Save, which is the king's vale.
14:18. But Melchisedech, the king of Salem, bringing forth bread and
wine, for he was the priest of the most high God,
14:19. Blessed him, and said:  Blessed be Abram by the most high God,
who created heaven and earth.
14:20. And blessed be the most high God, by whose protection, the
enemies are in thy hands.  And he gave him the tithes of all.
14:21. And the king of Sodom said to Abram:  Give me the persons, and
the rest take to thyself.
14:22. And he answered him:  I lift up my hand to the Lord God the most
high, the possessor of heaven and earth,
14:23. That from the very woof thread unto the shoe latchet, I will not
take of any things that are thine, lest thou say:  I have enriched
14:24. Except such things as the young men have eaten, and the shares
of the men that came with me, Aner, Escol, and Mambre:  these shall take
their shares.
Genesis Chapter 15
God promiseth seed to Abram.  His faith, sacrifice and vision.
15:1. Now when these things were done, the word of the Lord came to
Abram by a vision, saying:  Fear not, Abram, I am thy protector, and thy
reward exceeding great.
15:2. And Abram said:  Lord God, what wilt thou give me?  I shall go
without children:  and the son of the steward of my house is this
Damascus Eliezer.
15:3. And Abram added:  But to me thou hast not given seed:  and lo my
servant born in my house, shall be my heir.
15:4. And immediately the word of the Lord came to him, saying :  He
shall not be thy heir:  but he that shall come out of thy bowels, him
shalt thou have for thy heir.
15:5. And he brought him forth abroad, and said to him:  Look up to
heaven and number the stars if thou canst.  And he said to him:  So shall
thy seed be.
15:6. Abram believed God, and it was reputed to him unto justice.
15:7. And he said to him:  I am the Lord who brought thee out from Ur of
the Chaldees, to give thee this land, and that thou mightest possess
15:8. But he said:  Lord God, whereby may I know that I shall possess
15:9. And the Lord answered, and said:  Take me a cow of three years
old, and a she-goat of three years.  and a ram of three years, a turtle
also, and a pigeon.
15:10. And he took all these, and divided them in the midst, and laid
the two pieces of each one against the other:  but the birds he divided
15:11. And the fowls came down upon the carcasses, and Abram drove them
15:12. And when the sun was setting, a deep sleep fell upon Abram, and
a great and darksome horror seized upon him.
15:13. And it was said unto him:  Know thou beforehand that thy seed
shall be a stranger in a land not their own, and they shall bring them
under bondage, and afflict them four hundred years.
15:14. But I will judge the nation which they shall serve, and after
this they shall come out with great substance.
15:15. And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace, and be buried in a
good old age.
15:16. But in the fourth generation they shall return hither:  for as
yet the iniquities of the Amorrhites are not at the full until this
present time.
15:17. And when the sun was set, there arose a dark mist, and there
appeared a smoking furnace, and a lamp of fire passing between those
15:18. That day God made a covenant with Abram, saying:  To thy seed
will I give this land, from the river to Egypt even to the great river
15:19. The Cineans, and Cenezites, the Cedmonites,
15:20. And the Hethites, and the Pherezites, the Raphaim also,
15:21. And the Amorrhites, and the Chanaanites, and the Gergesites, and
the Jebusites.
Genesis Chapter 16
Abram marrieth Agar, who bringeth forth Ismael.
16:1. Now Sarai, the wife of Abram, had brought forth no children:  but
having a handmaid, an Egyptian, named Agar,
16:2. She said to her husband:  Behold, the Lord hath restrained me from
bearing:  go in unto my handmaid, it may be I may have children of her
at least.  And when he agreed to her request,
16:3. She took Agar the Egyptian her handmaid, ten years after they
first dwelt in the land of Chanaan, and gave her to her husband to
To wife. . .Plurality of wives, though contrary to the primitive
institution of marriage, Gen. 2.24, was by divine dispensation allowed
to the patriarchs:  which allowance seems to have continued during the
time of the law of Moses.  But Christ our Lord reduced marriage to its
primitive institution.  Matt. 19.
16:4. And he went in to her.  But she perceiving that she was with
child, despised her mistress.
16:5. And Sarai said to Abram:  Thou dost unjustly with me:  I gave my
handmaid into thy bosom, and she perceiving herself to be with child,
despiseth me.  The Lord judge between me and thee.
16:6. And Abram made answer, and said to her:  Behold thy handmaid is in
thy own hand, use her as it pleaseth thee.  And when Sarai afflicted
her, she ran away.
16:7. And the angel of the Lord having found her, by a fountain of
water in the wilderness, which is in the way to Sur in the desert,
16:8. He said to her:  Agar, handmaid of Sarai, whence comest thou?  and
whither goest thou?  And she answered:  I flee from the face of Sarai, my
16:9. And the angel of the Lord said to her:  Return to thy mistress,
and humble thyself under her hand.
16:10. And again he said:  I will multiply thy seed exceedingly, and it
shall not be numbered for multitude.
16:11. And again:  Behold, said he, thou art with child, and thou shalt
bring forth a son:  and thou shalt call his name Ismael, because the
Lord hath heard thy affliction.
16:12. He shall be a wild man:  his hand will be against all men, and
all men's hands against him:  and he shall pitch his tents over against
all his brethren.
16:13. And she called the name of the Lord that spoke unto her:  Thou
the God who hast seen me.  For she said:  Verily, here have I seen the
hinder parts of him that seeth me.
16:14. Therefore she called that well, the well of him that liveth and
seeth me.  The same is between Cades and Barad.
16:15. And Agar brought forth a son to Abram:  who called his name
16:16. Abram was four score and six years old when Agar brought him
forth Ismael.
Genesis Chapter 17
The Covenant of circumcision.
17:1. And after he began to be ninety and nine years old, the Lord
appeared to him:  and said unto him:  I am the Almighty God:  walk before
me, and be perfect.
17:2. And I will make my covenant between me and thee:  and I will
multiply thee exceedingly.
17:3. Abram fell flat on his face.
17:4. And God said to him:  I am, and my covenant is with thee, and thou
shalt be a father of many nations.
17:5. Neither shall thy name be called any more Abram:  but thou shalt
be called Abraham:  because I have made thee a father of many nations.
Abram. . .in the Hebrew, signifies a high father:  but Abraham, the
father of the multitude; Sarai signifies my Lady, but Sara absolutely
17:6. And I will make thee increase exceedingly, and I will make
nations of thee, and kings shall come out of thee.
17:7. And I will establish my covenant between me and thee, and between
thy seed after thee in their generations, by a perpetual covenant:  to
be a God to thee, and to thy seed after thee.
17:8. And I will give to thee, and to thy seed, the land of thy
sojournment, all the land of Chanaan, for a perpetual possession, and I
will be their God.
17:9. Again God said to Abraham:  And thou therefore shalt keep my
covenant, and thy seed after thee in their generations.
17:10. This is my covenant which you shall observe between me and you,
and thy seed after thee:  All the male-kind of you shall be circumcised.
17:11. And you shall circumcise the flesh of your foreskin, that it may
be for a sign of the covenant between me and you.
17:12. An infant of eight days old shall be circumcised among you,
every manchild in your generations:  he that is born in the house, as
well as the bought servant, shall be circumcised, and whosoever is not
of your stock:
17:13. And my covenant shall be in your flesh for a perpetual covenant.
17:14. The male whose flesh of his foreskin shall not be circumcised,
that soul shall be destroyed out of his people:  because he hath broken
my covenant.
17:15. God said also to Abraham:  Sarai thy wife thou shalt not call
Sarai, but Sara.
17:16. And I will bless her, and of her I will give thee a son, whom I
will bless, and he shall become nations, and kings of people shall
spring from him.
17:17. Abraham fell upon his face, and laughed, saying in his heart:
Shall a son, thinkest thou, be born to him that is a hundred years old?
and shall Sara that is ninety years old bring forth?
17:18. And he said to God:  O that Ismael may live before thee.
17:19. And God said to Abraham:  Sara thy wife shall bear thee a son,
and thou shalt call his name Isaac, and I will establish my covenant
with him for a perpetual covenant, and with his seed after him.
17:20. And as for Ismael I have also heard thee.  Behold, I will bless
him, and increase, and multiply him exceedingly:  he shall beget twelve
chiefs, and I will make him a great nation.
17:21. But my covenant I will establish with Isaac, whom Sara shall
bring forth to thee at this time in the next year.
17:22. And when he had left off speaking with him, God went up from
17:23. And Abraham took Ismael his son, and all that were born in his
house:  and all whom he had bought, every male among the men of his
house:  and he circumcised the flesh of their foreskin forthwith the
very same day, as God had commanded him.
17:24. Abraham was ninety and nine years old, when he circumcised the
flesh of his foreskin.
17:25. And Ismael his son was full thirteen years old at the time of
his circumcision.
17:26. The self-same day was Abraham circumcised and Ismael his son.
17:27. And all the men of his house, as well they that were born in his
house, as the bought servants and strangers, were circumcised with him.
Genesis Chapter 18
Angels are entertained by Abraham.  They foretell the birth of Isaac.
Abraham's prayer for the men of Sodom.
18:1. And the Lord appeared to him in the vale of Mambre as he was
sitting at the door of his tent, in the very heat of the day.
18:2. And when he had lifted up his eyes, there appeared to him three
men standing near to him:  and as soon as he saw them, he ran to meet
them from the door of his tent, and adored down to the ground.
18:3. And he said:  Lord, if I have found favour in thy sight, pass not
away from thy servant.
18:4. But I will fetch a little water, and wash ye your feet, and rest
ye under the tree.
18:5. And I will set a morsel of bread, and strengthen ye your heart,
afterwards you shall pass on:  for therefore are you come aside to your
servant.  And they said:  Do as thou hast spoken.
18:6. Abraham made haste into the tent to Sara, and said to her:  Make
haste, temper together three measures of flour, and make cakes upon the
18:7. And he himself ran to the herd, and took from thence a calf, very
tender and very good, and gave it to a young man, who made haste and
18:8. He took also butter and milk, and the calf which he had boiled,
and set before them:  but he stood by them under the tree.
18:9. And when they had eaten, they said to him:  Where is Sara thy
wife?  He answered:  Lo she is in the tent.
18:10. And he said to him:  I will return and come to thee at this time,
life accompanying, and Sara, thy wife, shall have a son.  Which when
Sara heard, she laughed behind the door of the tent.
18:11. Now they were both old, and far advanced in years, and it had
ceased to be with Sara after the manner of women.
18:12. And she laughed secretly, saying:  After I am grown old, and my
lord is an old man, shall I give myself to pleasure?
18:13. And the Lord said to Abraham:  Why did Sara laugh, saying:  Shall
I, who am an old woman, bear a child indeed?
18:14. Is there any thing hard to God?  According to appointment I will
return to thee at this same time, life accompanying, and Sara shall
18:15. Sara denied, saying:  I did not laugh:  for she was afraid.  But
the Lord said:  Nay; but thou didst laugh.
18:16. And when the men rose up from thence, they turned their eyes
towards Sodom:  and Abraham walked with them, bringing them on the way.
18:17. And the Lord said:  Can I hide from Abraham what I am about to
18:18. Seeing he shall become a great and mighty nation, and in him all
the nations of the earth shall be blessed?
18:19. For I know that he will command his children, and his household
after him, to keep the way of the Lord, and do judgment and justice:
that for Abraham's sake, the Lord may bring to effect all the things he
hath spoken unto him.
18:20. And the Lord said:  The cry of Sodom and Gomorrha is multiplied,
and their sin is become exceedingly grievous.
18:21. I will go down and see whether they have done according to the
cry that is come to me; or whether it be not so, that I may know.
I will go down, etc. . .The Lord here accommodates his discourse to the
way of speaking and acting amongst men; for he knoweth all things, and
needeth not to go anywhere for information.  Note here, that two of the
three angels went away immediately for Sodom; whilst the third, who
represented the Lord, remained with Abraham.
18:22. And they turned themselves from thence, and went their way to
Sodom:  but Abraham as yet stood before the Lord.
18:23. And drawing nigh, he said:  Wilt thou destroy the just with the
18:24. If there be fifty just men in the city, shall they perish
withal?  and wilt thou not spare that place for the sake of the fifty
just, if they be therein?
18:25. Far be it from thee to do this thing, and to slay the just with
the wicked, and for the just to be in like case as the wicked; this is
not beseeming thee:  thou who judgest all the earth, wilt not make this
18:26. And the Lord said to him:  If I find in Sodom fifty just within
the city, I will spare the whole place for their sake.
18:27. And Abraham answered, and said:  Seeing I have once begun, I will
speak to my Lord, whereas I am dust and ashes.
18:28. What if there be five less than fifty just persons?  wilt thou
for five and forty destroy the whole city:  And he said:  I will not
destroy it, if I find five and forty.
18:29. And again he said to him:  But if forty be found there, what wilt
thou do?  He said:  I will not destroy it for the sake of forty.
18:30. Lord, saith he, be not angry, I beseech thee, if I speak:  What
if thirty shall be found there?  He answered:  I will not do it, if I
find thirty there.
18:31. Seeing, saith he, I have once begun, I will speak to my Lord:
What if twenty be found there?  He said:  I will not destroy it for the
sake of twenty.
18:32. I beseech thee, saith he, be not angry, Lord, if I speak yet
once more:  What if ten shall be found there?  And he said:  I will not
destroy it for the sake of ten.
18:33. And the Lord departed, after he had left speaking to Abraham:
and Abraham returned to his place.
Genesis Chapter 19
Lot, entertaining Angels in his house, is delivered from Sodom, which
is destroyed:  his wife for looking back is turned into a statue of
19:1. And the two angels came to Sodom in the evening, and Lot was
sitting in the gate of the city.  And seeing them, he rose up and went
to meet them:  and worshipped prostrate to the ground.
19:2. And said:  I beseech you, my lords, turn in to the house of your
servant, and lodge there:  wash your feet, and in the morning you shall
go on your way.  And they said:  No, but we will abide in the street.
19:3. He pressed them very much to turn in unto him:  and when they were
come into his house, he made them a feast, and baked unleavened bread,
and they ate:
19:4. But before they went to bed, the men of the city beset the house,
both young and old, all the people together.
19:5. And they called Lot, and said to him:  Where are the men that came
in to thee at night?  bring them out hither, that we may know them:
19:6. Lot went out to them, and shut the door after him, and said:
19:7. Do not so, I beseech you, my brethren, do not commit this evil.
19:8. I have two daughters who, as yet, have not known man; I will
bring them out to you, and abuse you them as it shall please you, so
that you do no evil to these men, because they are come in under the
shadow of my roof.
19:9. But they said:  Get thee back thither.  And again:  Thou camest in,
said they, as a stranger, was it to be a judge?  therefore we will
afflict thee more than them.  And they pressed very violently upon Lot:
and they were even at the point of breaking open the doors.
19:10. And behold the men put out their hand, and drew in Lot unto
them, and shut the door.
19:11. And them, that were without, they struck with blindness from the
least to the greatest, so that they could not find the door.
19:12. And they said to Lot:  Hast thou here any of thine?  son in law,
or sons, or daughters, all that are thine bring them out of this city:
19:13. For we will destroy this place, because their cry is grown loud
before the Lord, who hath sent us to destroy them.
19:14. So Lot went out, and spoke to his sons in law that were to have
his daughters, and said:  Arise:  get you out of this place, because the
Lord will destroy this city.  And he seemed to them to speak as it were
19:15. And when it was morning, the angels pressed him, saying:  Arise,
take thy wife, and the two daughters that thou hast:  lest thou also
perish in the wickedness of the city.
19:16. And as he lingered, they took his hand, and the hand of his
wife, and of his two daughters, because the Lord spared him.
19:17. And they brought him forth, and set him without the city:  and
there they spoke to him, saying:  Save thy life:  look not back, neither
stay thou in all the country about:  but save thy self in the mountain,
lest thou be also consumed.
19:18. And Lot said to them:  I beseech thee, my Lord,
19:19. Because thy servant hath found grace before thee, and thou hast
magnified thy mercy, which thou hast shewn to me, in saving my life,
and I cannot escape to the mountain, lest some evil seize me, and I
19:20. There is this city here at hand, to which I may flee, it is a
little one, and I shall be saved in it:  is it not a little one, and my
soul shall live?
19:21. And he said to him:  Behold also in this, I have heard thy
prayers, not to destroy the city for which thou hast spoken.
19:22. Make haste, and be saved there:  because I cannot do any thing
till thou go in thither.  Therefore the name of that city was called
Segor. . .That is, a little one.
19:23. The sun was risen upon the earth, and Lot entered into Segor.
19:24. And the Lord rained upon Sodom and Gomorrha brimstone and fire
from the Lord out of heaven.
19:25. And he destroyed these cities, and all the country about, all
the inhabitants of the cities, and all things that spring from the
19:26. And his wife looking behind her, was turned into a statue of
And his wife. . .As a standing memorial to the servants of God to
proceed in virtue, and not to look back to vice or its allurements.
19:27. And Abraham got up early in the morning, and in the place where
he had stood before with the Lord:
19:28. He looked towards Sodom and Gomorrha, and the whole land of that
country:  and he saw the ashes rise up from the earth as the smoke of a
19:29. Now when God destroyed the cities of that country, remembering
Abraham, he delivered Lot out of the destruction of the cities wherein
he had dwelt.
19:30. And Lot went up out of Segor, and abode in the mountain, and his
two daughters with him (for he was afraid to stay in Segor) and he
dwelt in a cave, he and his two daughters with him.
19:31. And the elder said to the younger:  Our father is old, and there
is no man left on the earth, to come in unto us after the manner of the
whole earth.
19:32. Come, let us make him drunk with wine, and let us lie with him,
that we may preserve seed of our father.
19:33. And they made their father drink wine that night:  and the elder
went in, and lay with her father:  but he perceived not, neither when
his daughter lay down, nor when she rose up.
19:34. And the next day the elder said to the younger:  Behold I lay
last night with my father, let us make him drink wine also to night,
and thou shalt lie with him, that we may save seed of our father.
19:35. They made their father drink wine that night also, and the
younger daughter went in, and lay with him:  and neither then did he
perceive when she lay down, nor when she rose up.
19:36. So the two daughters of Lot were with child by their father.
19:37. And the elder bore a son, and she called his name Moab:  he is
the father of the Moabites unto this day.
19:38. The younger also bore a son, and she called his name Ammon; that
is, the son of my people:  he is the father of the Ammonites unto this
Genesis Chapter 20
Abraham sojourned in Gerara:  Sara is taken into king Abimelech's house,
but by God's commandment is restored untouched.
20:1. Abraham removed from thence to the south country, and dwelt
between Cades and Sur, and sojourned in Gerara.
20:2. And he said of Sara his wife:  She is my sister.  So Abimelech the
king of Gerara sent, and took her.
20:3. And God came to Abimelech in a dream by night, and he said to
him:  Lo thou shalt die for the woman that thou hast taken:  for she hath
20:4. Now Abimelech had not touched her, and he said:  Lord, wilt thou
slay a nation that is ignorant and just?
20:5. Did not he say to me:  She is my sister:  and she say, He is my
brother?  in the simplicity of my heart, and cleanness of my hands have
I done this.
20:6. And God said to him:  And I know that thou didst it with a sincere
heart:  and therefore I withheld thee from sinning against me, and I
suffered thee not to touch her.
20:7. Now therefore restore the man his wife, for he is a prophet:  and
he shall pray for thee, and thou shalt live:  but if thou wilt not
restore her, know that thou shalt surely die, thou and all that are
20:8. And Abimelech forthwith rising up in the night, called all his
servants:  and spoke all these words in their hearing, and all the men
were exceedingly afraid.
20:9. And Abimelech called also for Abraham, and said to him:  What hast
thou done to us?  what have we offended thee in, that thou hast brought
upon me and upon my kingdom a great sin?  thou hast done to us what thou
oughtest not to do.
20:10. And again he expostulated with him, and said:  What sawest thou,
that thou hast done this?
20:11. Abraham answered:  I thought with myself, saying:  Perhaps there
is not the fear of God in this place:  and they will kill me for the
sake of my wife:
20:12. Howbeit, otherwise also she is truly my sister, the daughter of
my father, and not the daughter of my mother, and I took her to wife.
20:13. And after God brought me out of my father's house, I said to
her:  Thou shalt do me this kindness:  In every place, to which we shall
come, thou shalt say that I am thy brother.
20:14. And Abimelech took sheep and oxen, and servants and handmaids,
and gave to Abraham:  and restored to him Sara his wife,
20:15. And said:  The land is before you, dwell wheresoever it shall
please thee.
20:16. And to Sara he said:  Behold I have given thy brother a thousand
pieces of silver, this shall serve thee for a covering of thy eyes to
all that are with thee, and whithersoever thou shalt go:  and remember
thou wast taken.
20:17. And when Abraham prayed, God healed Abimelech and his wife, and
his handmaids, and they bore children:
20:18. For the Lord had closed up every womb of the house of Abimelech,
on account of Sara, Abraham's wife.
Genesis Chapter 21
Isaac is born.  Agar and Ismael are cast forth.
21:1. And the Lord visited Sara, as he had promised:  and fulfilled what
he had spoken.
21:2. And she conceived and bore a son in her old age, at the time that
God had foretold her.
21:3. And Abraham called the name of his son, whom Sara bore him,
Isaac. . .This word signifies laughter.
21:4. And he circumcised him the eighth day, as God had commanded him,
21:5. When he was a hundred years old:  for at this age of his father,
was Isaac born.
21:6. And Sara said:  God hath made a laughter for me:  whosoever shall
hear of it will laugh with me.
21:7. And again she said:  Who would believe that Abraham should hear
that Sara gave suck to a son, whom she bore to him in his old age?
21:8. And the child grew, and was weaned:  and Abraham made a great
feast on the day of his weaning.
21:9. And when Sara had seen the son of Agar, the Egyptian, playing
with Isaac, her son, she said to Abraham:
21:10. Cast out this bondwoman and her son; for the son of the
bondwoman shall not be heir with my son Isaac.
21:11. Abraham took this grievously for his son.
21:12. And God said to him:  Let it not seem grievous to thee for the
boy, and for thy bondwoman:  in all that Sara hath said to thee, hearken
to her voice:  for in Isaac shall thy seed be called.
21:13. But I will make the son also of the bondwoman a great nation,
because he is thy seed.
21:14. So Abraham rose up in the morning, and taking bread and a bottle
of water, put it upon her shoulder, and delivered the boy, and sent her
away.  And she departed, and wandered in the wilderness of Bersabee.
21:15. And when the water in the bottle was spent, she cast the boy
under one of the trees that were there.
21:16. And she went her way, and sat over against him a great way off,
as far as a bow can carry, for she said:  I will not see the boy die:
and sitting over against, she lifted up her voice and wept.
21:17. And God heard the voice of the boy:  and an angel of God called
to Agar from heaven, saying:  What art thou doing, Agar?  fear not; for
God hath heard the voice of the boy, from the place wherein he is.
21:18. Arise, take up the boy, and hold him by the hand, for I will
make him a great nation.
21:19. And God opened her eyes:  and she saw a well of water, and went
and filled the bottle, and gave the boy to drink.
21:20. And God was with him:  and he grew, and dwelt in the wilderness,
and became a young man, an archer.
21:21. And he dwelt in the wilderness of Pharan, and his mother took a
wife for him out of the land of Egypt.
21:22. At the same time Abimelech, and Phicol the general of his army,
said to Abraham:  God is with thee in all that thou dost.
21:23. Swear therefore by God, that thou wilt not hurt me, nor my
posterity, nor my stock:  but according to the kindness that I have done
to thee, thou shalt do to me, and to the land wherein thou hast lived a
21:24. And Abraham said:  I will swear.
21:25. And he reproved Abimelech for a well of water, which his
servants had taken away by force.
21:26. And Abimelech answered:  I knew not who did this thing:  and thou
didst not tell me, and I heard not of it till today.
21:27. Then Abraham took sheep and oxen, and gave them to Abimelech:
and both of them made a league.
21:28. And Abraham set apart seven ewelambs of the flock.
21:29. And Abimelech said to him:  What mean these seven ewelambs which
thou hast set apart?
21:30. But he said:  Thou shalt take seven ewelambs at my hand:  that
they may be a testimony for me, that I dug this well.
21:31. Therefore that place was called Bersabee; because there both of
them did swear.
Bersabee. . .That is, the well of oath.
21:32. And they made a league for the well of oath.
21:33. And Abimelech and Phicol, the general of his army, arose and
returned to the land of the Palestines.  But Abraham planted a grove in
Bersabee, and there called upon the name of the Lord God eternal.
21:34. And he was a sojourner in the land of the Palestines many days.
Genesis Chapter 22
The faith and obedience of Abraham is proved in his readiness to
sacrifice his son Isaac.  He is stayed from the act by an angel.  Former
promises are renewed to him.  His brother Nachor's issue.
22:1. After these things, God tempted Abraham, and said to him:
Abraham, Abraham.  And he answered:  Here I am.
God tempted, etc. . .God tempteth no man to evil, James 1.13; but by
trial and experiment maketh known to the world, and to ourselves, what
we are, as here by this trial the singular faith and obedience of
Abraham was made manifest.
22:2. He said to him:  Take thy only begotten son Isaac, whom thou
lovest, and go into the land of vision; and there thou shalt offer him
for an holocaust upon one of the mountains which I will shew thee.
22:3. So Abraham rising up in the night, saddled his ass, and took with
him two young men, and Isaac his son:  and when he had cut wood for the
holocaust, he went his way to the place which God had commanded him.
22:4. And on the third day, lifting up his eyes, he saw the place afar
22:5. And he said to his young men:  Stay you here with the ass; I and
the boy will go with speed as far as yonder, and after we have
worshipped, will return to you.
22:6. And he took the wood for the holocaust, and laid it upon Isaac
his son; and he himself carried in his hands fire and a sword.  And as
they two went on together,
22:7. Isaac said to his father:  My father.  And he answered:  What wilt
thou, son?  Behold, saith he, fire and wood:  where is the victim for the
22:8. And Abraham said:  God will provide himself a victim for an
holocaust, my son.  So they went on together.
22:9. And they came to the place which God had shewn him, where he
built an altar, and laid the wood in order upon it; and when he had
bound Isaac his son, he laid him on the altar upon the pile of wood.
22:10. And he put forth his hand, and took the sword, to sacrifice his
22:11. And behold, an angel of the Lord from heaven called to him,
saying:  Abraham, Abraham.  And he answered:  Here I am.
22:12. And he said to him:  Lay not thy hand upon the boy, neither do
thou any thing to him:  now I know that thou fearest God, and hast not
spared thy only begotten son for my sake.
22:13. Abraham lifted up his eyes, and saw behind his back a ram,
amongst the briers, sticking fast by the horns, which he took and
offered for a holocaust instead of his son.
22:14. And he called the name of that place, The Lord seeth.  Whereupon,
even to this day, it is said:  In the mountain the Lord will see.
22:15. And the angel of the Lord called to Abraham a second time from
heaven, saying:
22:16. By my own self have I sworn, saith the Lord:  because thou hast
done this thing, and hast not spared thy only begotten son for my sake:
22:17. I will bless thee, and I will multiply thy seed as the stars of
heaven, and as the sand that is by the sea shore; thy seed shall
possess the gates of their enemies.
22:18. And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed,
because thou hast obeyed my voice.
22:19. Abraham returned to his young men, and they went to Bersabee
together, and he dwelt there.
22:20. After these things, it was told Abraham, that Melcha also had
borne children to Nachor his brother.
22:21. Hus, the firstborn, and Buz, his brother, and Camuel the father
of the Syrians,
22:22. And Cased, and Azau, and Pheldas, and Jedlaph,
22:23. And Bathuel, of whom was born Rebecca:  these eight did Melcha
bear to Nachor, Abraham's brother.
22:24. And his concubine, named Roma, bore Tabee, and Gaham, and Tahas,
Genesis Chapter 23
Sara's death and burial in the field bought of Ephron.
23:1. And Sara lived a hundred and twenty-seven years.
23:2. And she died in the city of Arbee which is Hebron, in the land of
Chanaan:  and Abraham came to mourn and weep for her.
23:3. And after he rose up from the funeral obsequies, he spoke to the
children of Heth, saying:
23:4. I am a stranger and sojourner among you:  give me the right of a
burying place with you, that I may bury my dead.
23:5. The children of Heth answered, saying:
23:6. My lord, hear us, thou art a prince of God among us:  bury thy
dead in our principal sepulchres:  and no man shall have power to hinder
thee from burying thy dead in his sepulchre.
23:7. Abraham rose up, and bowed down to the people of the land, to
wit, the children of Heth:
Bowed down to the people. . .Adoravit, literally adored.  But this word
here, as well as in many other places in the Latin scriptures, is used
to signify only an inferior honour and reverence paid to men, expressed
by a bowing down of the body.
23:8. And said to them:  If it please your soul that I should bury my
dead, hear me, and intercede for me to Ephron the son of Seor.
23:9. That he may give me the double cave, which he hath in the end of
his field:  For as much money as it is worth he shall give it me before
you, for a possession of a burying place.
23:10. Now Ephron dwelt in the midst of the children of Heth.  And
Ephron made answer to Abraham in the hearing of all that went in at the
gate of the city, saying:
23:11. Let it not be so, my lord, but do thou rather hearken to what I
say:  The field I deliver to thee, and the cave that is therein; in the
presence of the children of my people, bury thy dead.
23:12. Abraham bowed down before the people of the land.
23:13. And he spoke to Ephron, in the presence of the people:  I beseech
thee to hear me:  I will give money for the field; take it, and so will
I bury my dead in it.
23:14. And Ephron answered:
23:15. My lord, hear me.  The ground which thou desirest, is worth four
hundred sicles of silver:  this is the price between me and thee:  but
what is this?  bury thy dead.
23:16. And when Abraham had heard this, he weighed out the money that
Ephron had asked, in the hearing of the children of Heth, four hundred
sicles of silver, of common current money.
23:17. And the field that before was Ephron's, wherein was the double
cave, looking towards Mambre, both it and the cave, and all the trees
thereof, in all its limits round about,
23:18. Was made sure to Abraham for a possession, in the sight of the
children of Heth, and of all that went in at the gate of his city.
23:19. And so Abraham buried Sara, his wife, in the double cave of the
field, that looked towards Mambre, this is Hebron in the land of
23:20. And the field was made sure to Abraham, and the cave that was in
it, for a possession to bury in, by the children of Heth.
Genesis Chapter 24
Abraham's servant, sent by him into Mesopotamia, bringeth from thence
Rebecca, who is married to Isaac.
24:1. Now Abraham was old, and advanced in age; and the Lord had
blessed him in all things.
24:2. And he said to the elder servant of his house, who was ruler over
all he had:  Put thy hand under my thigh,
24:3. That I may make thee swear by the Lord, the God of heaven and
earth, that thou take not a wife for my son, of the daughters of the
Chanaanites, among whom I dwell:
24:4. But that thou go to my own country and kindred, and take a wife
from thence for my son Isaac.
24:5. The servant answered:  If the woman will not come with me into
this land, must I bring thy son back again to the place from whence
thou camest out?
24:6. And Abraham said:  Beware thou never bring my son back again
24:7. The Lord God of heaven, who took me out of my father's house, and
out of my native country, who spoke to me, and swore to me, saying:  To
thy seed will I give this land:  he will send his angel before thee, and
thou shalt take from thence a wife for my son.
He will send his angel before thee. . .This shows that the Hebrews
believed that God gave them guardian angels for their protection.
24:8. But if the woman will not follow thee, thou shalt not be bound by
the oath:  only bring not my son back thither again.
24:9. The servant, therefore, put his hand under the thigh of Abraham,
his lord, and swore to him upon his word.
24:10. And he took ten camels of his master's herd, and departed,
carrying something of all his goods with him, and he set forward and
went on to Mesopotamia, to the city of Nachor.
24:11. And when he had made the camels lie down without the town, near
a well of water, in the evening, at the time when women are wont to
come out to draw water, he said:
24:12. O Lord, the God of my master, Abraham, meet me today, I beseech
thee, and shew kindness to my master, Abraham.
24:13. Behold, I stand nigh the spring of water, and the daughters of
the inhabitants of this city will come out to draw water:
24:14. Now, therefore, the maid to whom I shall say:  Let down thy
pitcher that I may drink:  and she shall answer, Drink, and I will give
thy camels drink also:  let it be the same whom thou hast provided for
thy servant Isaac:  and by this, I shall understand that thou hast shewn
kindness to my master.
24:15. He had not yet ended these words within himself, and behold
Rebecca came out, the daughter of Bathuel, son of Melcha, wife to
Nachor the brother of Abraham, having a pitcher on her shoulder:
24:16. An exceeding comely maid, and a most beautiful virgin, and not
known to man:  and she went down to the spring, and filled her pitcher,
and was coming back.
24:17. And the servant ran to meet her, and said:  Give me a little
water to drink of thy pitcher.
24:18. And she answered:  Drink, my lord.  And quickly she let down the
pitcher upon her arm, and gave him drink.
24:19. And when he had drunk, she said:  I will draw water for thy
camels also, till they all drink.
24:20. And pouring out the pitcher into the troughs, she ran back to
the well to draw water; and having drawn, she gave to all the camels.
24:21. But he musing, beheld her with silence, desirous to know whether
the Lord had made his journey prosperous or not.
24:22. And after that the camels had drunk, the man took out golden
earrings, weighing two sicles; and as many bracelets, of ten sicles
24:23. And he said to her:  Whose daughter art thou?  tell me:  is there
any place in thy father's house to lodge?
24:24. And she answered:  I am the daughter of Bathuel, the son of
Melcha, whom she bore to Nachor.
24:25. And she said, moreover, to him:  We have good store of both straw
and hay, and a large place to lodge in.
24:26. The man bowed himself down, and adored the Lord,
24:27. Saying:  Blessed be the Lord God of my master Abraham, who hath
not taken away his mercy and truth from my master, and hath brought me
the straight way into the house of my master's brother.
24:28. Then the maid ran, and told in her mother's house all that she
24:29. And Rebecca had a brother, named Laban, who went out in haste to
the man, to the well.
24:30. And when he had seen the earrings and bracelets in his sister's
hands, and had heard all that she related, saying, Thus and thus the
man spoke to me:  he came to the man who stood by the camels, and near
to the spring of water,
24:31. And said to him:  Come in, thou blessed of the Lord; why standest
thou without?  I have prepared the house, and a place for the camels.
24:32. And he brought him into his lodging; and he unharnessed the
camels, and gave straw and hay, and water to wash his feet, and the
feet of the men that were come with him.
24:33. And bread was set before him.  But he said:  I will not eat, till
I tell my message.  He answered him:  Speak.
24:34. And he said:  I am the servant of Abraham:
24:35. And the Lord hath blessed my master wonderfully, and he is
become great:  and he hath given him sheep and oxen, silver and gold,
men servants and women servants, camels and asses.
24:36. And Sara, my master's wife, hath borne my master a son in her
old age, and he hath given him all that he had.
24:37. And my master made me swear, saying:  Thou shalt not take a wife
for my son of the Chanaanites, in whose land I dwell:
24:38. But thou shalt go to my father's house, and shalt take a wife of
my own kindred for my son:
24:39. But I answered my master:  What if the woman will not come with
24:40. The Lord, said he, in whose sight I walk, will send his angel
with thee, and will direct thy way:  and thou shalt take a wife for my
son of my own kindred, and of my father's house.
24:41. But thou shalt be clear from my curse, when thou shalt come to
my kindred, if they will not give thee one.
24:42. And I came today to the well of water, and said:  O Lord God of
my master, Abraham, if thou hast prospered my way, wherein I now walk,
24:43. Behold, I stand by the well of water, and the virgin, that shall
come out to draw water, who shall hear me say:  Give me a little water
to drink of thy pitcher:
24:44. And shall say to me:  Both drink thou, and I will also draw for
thy camels:  let the same be the woman, whom the Lord hath prepared for
my master's son.
24:45. And whilst I pondered these things secretly with myself, Rebecca
appeared, coming with a pitcher, which she carried on her shoulder:  and
she went down to the well and drew water.  And I said to her:  Give me a
little to drink.
24:46. And she speedily let down the pitcher from her shoulder, and
said to me:  Both drink thou, and to thy camels I will give drink.  I
drank, and she watered the camels.
24:47. And I asked her, and said:  Whose daughter art thou?  And she
answered:  I am the daughter of Bathuel, the son of Nachor, whom Melcha
bore to him.  So I put earrings on her to adorn her face, and I put
bracelets on her hands.
24:48. And falling down, I adored the Lord, blessing the Lord God of my
master, Abraham, who hath brought me the straight way to take the
daughter of my master's brother for his son.
24:49. Wherefore, if you do according to mercy and truth with my
master, tell me:  but if it please you otherwise, tell me that also,
that I may go to the right hand, or to the left.
24:50. And Laban and Bathuel answered:  The word hath proceeded from the
Lord:  we cannot speak any other thing to thee but his pleasure.
24:51. Behold, Rebecca is before thee, take her and go thy way, and let
her be the wife of thy master's son, as the Lord hath spoken.
24:52. Which when Abraham's servant heard, falling down to the ground,
he adored the Lord.
24:53. And bringing forth vessels of silver and gold, and garments, he
gave them to Rebecca, for a present.  He offered gifts also to her
brothers, and to her mother.
24:54. And a banquet was made, and they ate and drank together, and
lodged there.  And in the morning, the servant arose, and said:  Let me
depart, that I may go to my master.
24:55. And her brother and mother answered:  Let the maid stay, at
least, ten days with us, and afterwards she shall depart.
24:56. Stay me not, said he, because the Lord hath prospered my way:
send me away, that I may go to my master.
24:57. And they said:  Let us call the maid, and ask her will.
Let us call the maid, and ask her will. . .Not as to her marriage, as
she had already consented, but of her quitting her parents and going to
her husband.
24:58. And they called her, and when she was come, they asked:  Wilt
thou go with this man?  She said:  I will go.
24:59. So they sent her away, and her nurse, and Abraham's servant, and
his company.
24:60. Wishing prosperity to their sister, and saying:  Thou art our
sister, mayst thou increase to thousands of thousands; and may thy seed
possess the gates of their enemies.
24:61. So Rebecca and her maids, being set upon camels, followed the
man:  who with speed returned to his master.
24:62. At the same time, Isaac was walking along the way to the well
which is called Of the living and the seeing:  for he dwelt in the south
24:63. And he was gone forth to meditate in the field, the day being
now well spent:  and when he had lifted up his eyes, he saw camels
coming afar off.
24:64. Rebecca also, when she saw Isaac, lighted off the camel,
24:65. And said to the servant:  Who is that man who cometh towards us
along the field?  And he said to her:  That man is my master.  But she
quickly took her cloak, and covered herself.
24:66. And the servant told Isaac all that he had done.
24:67. Who brought her into the tent of Sara his mother, and took her
to wife:  and he loved her so much, that it moderated the sorrow which
was occasioned by his mother's death.
Genesis Chapter 25
Abraham's children by Cetura; his death and that of Ismael.  Isaac hath
Esau and Jacob twins.  Esau selleth his first birthright to Jacob.
25:1. And Abraham married another wife named Cetura:
25:2. Who bore him Zamram, and Jecsan, and Madan, and Madian, and
Jesboc, and Sue.
25:3. Jecsan also begot Saba, and Dadan.  The children of Dadan were
Assurim, and Latusim, and Loomim.
25:4. But of Madian was born Epha, and Opher, and Henoch, and Abida,
and Eldaa:  all these were the children of Cetura.
25:5. And Abraham gave all his possessions to Isaac:
25:6. And to the children of the concubines he gave gifts, and
separated them from Isaac his son, while he yet lived, to the east
Concubines. . .Agar and Cetura are here called concubines, (though they
were lawful wives, and in other places are so called,) because they
were of an inferior degree, and such in scripture are usually called
25:7. And the days of Abraham's life were a hundred and seventy-five
25:8. And decaying he died in a good old age, and having lived a long
time, and being full of days:  and was gathered to his people.
25:9. And Isaac and Ismael his sons buried him in the double cave,
which was situated in the field of Ephron the son of Seor the Hethite,
over against Mambre,
25:10. Which he had bought of the children of Heth:  there was he
buried, and Sara his wife.
25:11. And after his death, God blessed Isaac his son, who dwelt by the
well named Of the living and seeing.
25:12. These are the generations of Ismael the son of Abraham, whom
Agar the Egyptian, Sara's servant, bore unto him:
25:13. And these are the names of his children according to their
calling and generations.  The firstborn of Ismael was Nabajoth, then
Cedar, and Adbeel, and Mabsam,
25:14. And Masma, and Duma, and Massa,
25:15. Hadar, and Thema, and Jethur, and Naphis, and Cedma.
25:16. These are the sons of Ismael:  and these are their names by their
castles and towns, twelve princes of their tribes.
25:17. And the years of Ismael's life were a hundred and thirty-seven,
and decaying he died, and was gathered unto his people.
25:18. And he dwelt from Hevila as far as Sur, which looketh towards
Egypt, to them that go towards the Assyrians.  He died in the presence
of all his brethren.
25:19. These also are the generations of Isaac the son of Abraham:
Abraham begot Isaac:
25:20. Who when he was forty years old, took to wife Rebecca the
daughter of Bathuel the Syrian of Mesopotamia, sister to Laban.
25:21. And Isaac besought the Lord for his wife, because she was
barren:  and he heard him, and made Rebecca to conceive.
25:22. But the children struggled in her womb, and she said:  If it were
to be so with me, what need was there to conceive?  And she went to
consult the Lord.
25:23. And he answering, said:  Two nations are in thy womb, and two
peoples shall be divided out of thy womb, and one people shall overcome
the other, and the elder shall serve the younger.
25:24. And when her time was come to be delivered, behold twins were
found in her womb.
25:25. He that came forth first was red, and hairy like a skin:  and his
name was called Esau.  Immediately the other coming forth, held his
brother's foot in his hand:  and therefore he was called Jacob.
25:26. Isaac was threescore years old when the children were born unto
25:27. And when they were grown up, Esau became a skilful hunter, and a
husbandman:  but Jacob, a plain man, dwelt in tents.
25:28. Isaac loved Esau, because he ate of his hunting:  and Rebecca
loved Jacob.
25:29. And Jacob boiled pottage:  to whom Esau, coming faint out of the
25:30. Said:  Give me of this red pottage, for I am exceeding faint.  For
which reason his name was called Edom.
25:31. And Jacob said to him:  Sell me thy first birthright.
25:32. He answered:  Lo I die, what will the first birthright avail me?
25:33. Jacob said:  Swear therefore to me.  Esau swore to him, and sold
his first birthright.
25:34. And so taking bread and the pottage of lentils, he ate, and
drank, and went on his way; making little account of having sold his
first birthright.
Genesis Chapter 26
Isaac sojourneth in Gerara, where God reneweth to him the promise made
to Abraham.  King Abimelech maketh league with him.
26:1. And when a famine came in the land, after that barrenness which
had happened in the days of Abraham, Isaac went to Abimelech, king of
the Palestines, to Gerara.
26:2. And the Lord appeared to him, and said:  Go not down into Egypt,
but stay in the land that I shall tell thee.
26:3. And sojourn in it, and I will be with thee, and will bless thee:
for to thee and to thy seed I will give all these countries, to fulfil
the oath which I swore to Abraham thy father.
26:4. And I will multiply thy seed like the stars of heaven:  and I will
give to thy posterity all these countries:  and in thy seed shall all
the nations of the earth be blessed.
26:5. Because Abraham obeyed my voice, and kept my precepts and
commandments, and observed my ceremonies and laws.
26:6. So Isaac abode in Gerara.
26:7. And when he was asked by the men of that place, concerning his
wife, he answered:  She is my sister:  for he was afraid to confess that
she was his wife, thinking lest perhaps they would kill him because of
26:8. And when very many days were passed, and he abode there,
Abimelech, king of the Palestines, looking out through a window, saw
him playing with Rebecca, his wife.
26:9. And calling for him, he said:  It is evident she is thy wife:  why
didst thou feign her to be thy sister?  He answered:  I feared lest I
should die for her sake.
26:10. And Abimelech said:  Why hast thou deceived us?  Some man of the
people might have lain with thy wife, and thou hadst brought upon us a
great sin.  And he commanded all the people, saying:
26:11. He that shall touch this man's wife, shall surely be put to
26:12. And Isaac sowed in that land, and he found that same year a
hundredfold:  and the Lord blessed him.
26:13. And the man was enriched, and he went on prospering and
increasing, till he became exceeding great.
26:14. And he had possessions of sheep and of herds, and a very great
family.  Wherefore the Palestines envying him,
26:15. Stopped up at that time all the wells, that the servants of his
father, Abraham, had digged, filling them up with earth:
26:16. Insomuch that Abimelech himself said to Isaac:  Depart from us,
for thou art become much mightier than we.
26:17. So he departed, and came to the torrent of Gerara, to dwell
26:18. And he digged again other wells, which the servants of his
father, Abraham, had digged, and which, after his death, the
Philistines had of old stopped up:  and he called them by the same
names, by which his father before had called them.
26:19. And they digged in the torrent, and found living water:
Torrent. . .That is, a channel where sometimes a torrent or violent
stream had run.
26:20. But there also the herdsmen of Gerara strove against the
herdsmen of Isaac, saying:  It is our water.  Wherefore he called the
name of the well, on occasion of that which had happened, Calumny.
26:21. And they digged also another; and for that they quarrelled
likewise, and he called the name of it, Enmity.
26:22. Going forward from thence, he digged another well, for which
they contended not; therefore he called the name thereof, Latitude,
saying:  Now hath the Lord given us room, and made us to increase upon
Latitude. . .That is, wideness, or room.
26:23. And he went up from that place to Bersabee,
26:24. Where the Lord appeared to him that same night, saying:  I am the
God of Abraham thy father, do not fear, for I am with thee:  I will
bless thee, and multiply thy seed for my servant Abraham's sake.
26:25. And he built there an altar:  and called upon the name of the
Lord, and pitched his tent; and commanded his servants to dig a well.
26:26. To which place when Abimelech, and Ochozath his friend, and
Phicol chief captain of his soldiers, came from Gerara,
26:27. Isaac said to them:  Why are ye come to me, a man whom you hate,
and have thrust out from you?
26:28. And they answered:  We saw that the Lord is with thee, and
therefore we said:  Let there be an oath between us, and let us make a
26:29. That thou do us no harm, as we on our part have touched nothing
of thine, nor have done any thing to hurt thee; but with peace have
sent thee away, increased with the blessing of the Lord.
26:30. And he made them a feast, and after they had eaten and drunk:
26:31. Arising in the morning, they swore one to another:  and Isaac
sent them away peaceably to their own home.
26:32. And behold, the same day the servants of Isaac came, telling him
of a well which they had digged, and saying:  We have found water.
26:33. Whereupon he called it Abundance:  and the name of the city was
called Bersabee, even to this day.
26:34. And Esau being forty years old, married wives, Judith, the
daughter of Beeri, the Hethite, and Basemath, the daughter of Elon, of
the same place.
26:35. And they both offended the mind of Isaac and Rebecca.
Genesis Chapter 27
Jacob, by him mother's counsel, obtaineth his father's blessing instead
of Esau.  And by her is advised to fly to his uncle Laban.
27:1. Now Isaac was old, and his eyes were dim, and he could not see:
and he called Esau, his elder son, and said to him:  My son?  And he
answered:  Here I am.
27:2. And his father said to him, Thou seest that I am old, and know
not the day of my death.
27:3. Take thy arms, thy quiver, and bow, and go abroad; and when thou
hast taken something by hunting,
27:4. Make me a savoury meat thereof, as thou knowest I like, and bring
it that I may eat:  and my soul may bless thee, before I die.
27:5. And when Rebecca had heard this, and he was gone into the field
to fulfil his father's commandment,
27:6. She said to her son Jacob:  I heard thy father talking with Esau,
thy brother, and saying to him:
27:7. Bring me of thy hunting, and make me meats that I may eat, and
bless thee in the sight of the Lord, before I die.
27:8. Now therefore, my son, follow my counsel:
27:9. And go thy way to the flock, bring me two kids of the best, that
I may make of them meat for thy father, such as he gladly eateth.
27:10. Which when thou hast brought in, and he hath eaten, he may bless
thee before he die.
27:11. And he answered her:  Thou knowest that Esau, my brother, is a
hairy man, and I am smooth:
27:12. If my father should feel me, and perceive it, I fear lest he
will think I would have mocked him, and I shall bring upon me a curse
instead of a blessing.
27:13. And his mother said to him:  Upon me be this curse, my son:  only
hear thou my voice, and go, fetch me the things which I have said.
27:14. He went, and brought, and gave them to his mother.  She dressed
meats, such as she knew his father liked.
27:15. And she put on him very good garments of Esau, which she had at
home with her:
27:16. And the little skins of the kids she put about his hands, and
covered the bare of his neck.
27:17. And she gave him the savoury meat, and delivered him bread that
she had baked.
27:18. Which when he had carried in, he said:  My father?  But he
answered:  I hear.  Who art thou, my son?
27:19. And Jacob said:  I am Esau, thy firstborn:  I have done as thou
didst command me:  arise, sit and eat of my venison, that thy soul may
I am Esau thy firstborn. . .St. Augustine (L. Contra mendacium, c. 10),
treating at large upon this place, excuseth Jacob from a lie, because
this whole passage was mysterious, as relating to the preference which
was afterwards to be given to the Gentiles before the carnal Jews,
which Jacob by prophetic light might understand.  So far is certain,
that the first birthright, both by divine election and by Esau's free
cession belonged to Jacob:  so that if there were any lie in the case,
it could be no more than an officious and venial one.
27:20. And Isaac said to his son:  How couldst thou find it so quickly,
my son?  He answered:  It was the will of God, that what I sought came
quickly in my way:
27:21. And Isaac said:  Come hither, that I may feel thee, my son, and
may prove whether thou be my son Esau, or no.
27:22. He came near to his father, and when he had felt him, Isaac
said:  The voice indeed is the voice of Jacob; but the hands, are the
hands of Esau.
27:23. And he knew him not, because his hairy hands made him like to
the elder.  Then blessing him,
27:24. He said:  Art thou my son Esau?  He answered:  I am.
27:25. Then he said:  Bring me the meats of thy hunting, my son, that my
soul may bless thee.  And when they were brought, and he had eaten, he
offered him wine also, which after he had drunk,
27:26. He said to him:  Come near me, and give me a kiss, my son.
27:27. He came near, and kissed him.  And immediately as he smelled the
fragrant smell of his garments, blessing him, he said:  Behold, the
smell of my son is as the smell of a plentiful field, which the Lord
hath blessed.
27:28. God give thee of the dew of heaven, and of the fatness of the
earth, abundance of corn and wine.
27:29. And let peoples serve thee, and tribes worship thee:  be thou
lord of thy brethren, and let thy mother's children bow down before
thee.  Cursed be he that curseth thee:  and let him that blesseth thee be
filled with blessings.
27:30. Isaac had scarce ended his words, when, Jacob being now gone out
abroad, Esau came,
27:31. And brought in to his father meats, made of what he had taken in
hunting, saying:  Arise, my father, and eat of thy son's venison; that
thy soul may bless me.
27:32. And Isaac said to him:  Why! who art thou?  He answered:  I am thy
firstborn son, Esau.
27:33. Isaac was struck with fear, and astonished exceedingly; and
wondering beyond what can be believed, said:  Who is he then that even
now brought me venison that he had taken, and I ate of all before thou
camest?  and I have blessed him, and he shall be blessed.
27:34. Esau having heard his father's words, roared out with a great
cry; and, being in a consternation, said:  Bless me also, my father.
27:35. And he said:  Thy brother came deceitfully and got thy blessing.
27:36. But he said again:  Rightly is his name called Jacob; for he hath
supplanted me lo this second time:  My birthright he took away before,
and now this second time he hath stolen away my blessing.  And again he
said to his father:  Hast thou not reserved me also a blessing?
Jacob. . .That is, a supplanter.
27:37. Isaac answered:  I have appointed him thy lord, and have made all
his brethren his servants:  I have established him with corn and wine,
and after this, what shall I do more for thee, my son?
27:38. And Esau said to him:  Hast thou only one blessing, father?  I
beseech thee bless me also.  And when he wept with a loud cry,
27:39. Isaac being moved, said to him:  In the fat of the earth, and in
the dew of heaven from above,
27:40. Shall thy blessing be.  Thou shalt live by the sword, and shalt
serve thy brother:  and the time shall come, when thou shalt shake off
and loose his yoke from thy neck.
27:41. Esau therefore always hated Jacob, for the blessing wherewith
his father had blessed him; and he said in his heart:  The days will
come of the mourning for my father, and I will kill my brother Jacob.
27:42. These things were told to Rebecca:  and she sent and called
Jacob, her son, and said to him:  Behold Esau, thy brother, threateneth
to kill thee.
27:43. Now therefore, my son, hear my voice, arise and flee to Laban,
my brother, to Haran:
27:44. And thou shalt dwell with him a few days, till the wrath of thy
brother be assuaged,
27:45. And his indignation cease, and he forget the things thou hast
done to him:  afterwards I will send, and bring thee from thence hither.
Why shall I be deprived of both my sons in one day?
27:46. And Rebecca said to Isaac:  I am weary of my life, because of the
daughters of Heth:  if Jacob take a wife of the stock of this land, I
choose not to live.
Genesis Chapter 28
Jacob's journey to Mesopotamia:  his vision and vow.
28:1. And Isaac called Jacob, and blessed him, and charged him, saying:
Take not a wife of the stock of Chanaan:
28:2. But go, and take a journey to Mesopotamia of Syria, to the house
of Bathuel, thy mother's father, and take thee a wife thence of the
daughters of Laban, thy uncle.
28:3. And God almighty bless thee, and make thee to increase and
multiply thee:  that thou mayst be a multitude of people.
28:4. And give the blessings of Araham to thee, and to thy seed after
thee:  that thou mayst possess the land of thy sojournment, which he
promised to thy grandfather.
28:5. And when Isaac had sent him away, he took his journey and went to
Mesopotamia of Syria, to Laban, the son of Bathuel, the Syrian, brother
to Rebecca, his mother.
28:6. And Esau seeing that his father had blessed Jacob, and had sent
him into Mesopotamia of Syria, to marry a wife thence; and that after
the blessing he had charged him, saying:  Thou shalt not take a wife of
the daughters of Chanaan:
28:7. And that Jacob obeying his parents, was gone into Syria:
28:8. Experiencing also, that his father was not well pleased with the
daughters of Chanaan:
28:9. He went to Ismael, and took to wife, besides them he had before,
Maheleth, the daughter of Ismael, Abraham's son, the sister of
28:10. But Jacob being departed from Bersabee, went on to Haran.
28:11. And when he was come to a certain place, and would rest in it
after sunset, he took of the stones that lay there, and putting under
his head, slept in the same place.
28:12. And he saw in his sleep a ladder standing upon the earth, and
the top thereof touching heaven:  the angels also of God ascending and
descending by it.
28:13. And the Lord leaning upon the ladder saying to him:  I am the
Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac:  The land, wherein
thou sleepest, I will give to thee and to thy seed.
28:14. And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth:  thou shalt
spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to
the south:  and IN THEE and thy seed, all the tribes of the earth SHALL
28:15. And I will be thy keeper whithersoever thou goest, and will
bring thee back into this land:  neither will I leave thee, till I shall
have accomplished all that I have said.
28:16. And when Jacob awaked out of sleep, he said:  Indeed the Lord is
in this place, and I knew it not.
28:17. And trembling, he said:  How terrible is this place?  this is no
other but the house of God, and the gate of heaven.
28:18. And Jacob arising in the morning, took the stone which he had
laid under his head, and set it up for a title, pouring oil upon the
28:19. And he called the name of the city Bethel, which before was
called Luza.
Bethel. . .This name signifies the house of God.
28:20. And he made a vow, saying:  If God shall be with me, and shall
keep me in the way, by which I walk, and shall give me bread to eat,
and raiment to put on,
28:21. And I shall return prosperously to my father's house:  the Lord
shall be my God:
28:22. And this stone, which I have set up for a title, shall be called
the house of God:  and of all things that thou shalt give to me, I will
offer tithes to thee.
Genesis Chapter 29
Jacob serveth Laban seven years for Rachel:  but is deceived with Lia:
he afterwards marrieth Rachel.  Lia bears him four sons.
29:1. Then Jacob went on in his journey, and came into the east
29:2. And he saw a well in the field, and three flocks of sheep lying
by it:  for the beasts were watered out of it, and the mouth thereof was
closed with a great stone.
29:3. And the custom was, when all the sheep were gathered together, to
roll away the stone, and after the sheep were watered, to put it on the
mouth of the well again.
29:4. And he said to the shepherds:  Brethren, whence are you?  They
answered:  Of Haran.
29:5. And he asked them, saying:  Know you Laban, the son of Nachor?
They said:  We know him.
29:6. He said:  Is he in health?  He is in health, say they:  and behold,
Rachel, his daughter, cometh with his flock.
29:7. And Jacob said:  There is yet much day remaining, neither is it
time to bring the flocks into the folds again:  first give the sheep
drink, and so lead them back to feed.
29:8. They answered:  We cannot, till all the cattle be gathered
together, and we remove the stone from the well's mouth, that we may
water the flocks.
29:9. They were yet speaking, and behold Rachel came with her father's
sheep; for she fed the flock.
29:10. And when Jacob saw her, and knew her to be his cousin german,
and that they were the sheep of Laban, his uncle:  he removed the stone
wherewith the well was closed.
29:11. And having watered the flock, he kissed her:  and lifting up his
29:12. And he told her that he was her father's brother, and the son of
Rebecca:  but she went in haste and told her father.
29:13. Who, when he heard that Jacob his sister's son was come, ran
forth to meet him:  and embracing him, and heartily kissing him, brought
him into his house.  And when he had heard the causes of his journey,
29:14. He answered:  Thou art my bone and my flesh.  And after the days
of one month were expired,
29:15. He said to him:  Because thou art my brother, shalt thou serve me
without wages?  Tell me what wages thou wilt have.
29:16. Now he had two daughters, the name of the elder was Lia; and the
younger was called Rachel.
29:17. But Lia was blear-eyed:  Rachel was well favoured, and of a
beautiful countenance.
29:18. And Jacob being in love with her, said:  I will serve thee seven
years for Rachel, thy younger daughter.
29:19. Laban answered:  It is better that I give her to thee than to
another man; stay with me.
29:20. So Jacob served seven years for Rachel:  and they seemed but a
few days, because of the greatness of his love.
29:21. And he said to Laban:  Give me my wife; for now the time is
fulfilled, that I may go in unto her.
29:22. And he, having invited a great number of his friends to the
feast, made the marriage.
29:23. And at night he brought in Lia, his daughter, to him,
29:24. Giving his daughter a handmaid, named Zelpha.  Now when Jacob had
gone in to her according to custom, when morning was come he saw it was
29:25. And he said to his father-in-law:  What is it that thou didst
mean to do?  did not I serve thee for Rachel?  why hast thou deceived me?
29:26. Laban answered:  It is not the custom in this place, to give the
younger in marriage first.
29:27. Make up the week of days of this match:  and I will give thee her
also, for the service that thou shalt render me other seven years.
29:28. He yielded to his pleasure:  and after the week was past, he
married Rachel:
29:29. To whom her father gave Bala, for her servant.
29:30. And having at length obtained the marriage he wished for, he
preferred the love of the latter before the former, and served with him
other seven years.
29:31. And the Lord seeing that he despised Lia, opened her womb, but
her sister remained barren.
29:32. And she conceived and bore a son, and called his name Ruben,
saying:  The Lord saw my affliction:  now my husband will love me.
29:33. And again she conceived and bore a son, and said:  Because the
Lord heard that I was despised, he hath given this also to me:  and she
called his name Simeon.
29:34. And she conceived the third time, and bore another son, and
said:  Now also my husband will be joined to me, because I have borne
him three sons:  and therefore she called his name Levi.
29:35. The fourth time she conceived and bore a son, and said:  Now will
I praise the Lord:  and for this she called him Juda.  And she left
Genesis Chapter 30
Rachel, being barren, delivereth her handmaid to Jacob; she beareth two
sons.  Lia ceasing to bear, giveth also her handmaid, and she beareth
two more.  Then Lia beareth other two sons and one daughter.  Rachel
beareth Joseph.  Jacob, desirous to return home, is hired to stay for a
certain part of the flock's increase, whereby he becometh exceeding
30:1. And Rachel seeing herself without children, envied her sister,
and said to her husband:  Give me children, otherwise I shall die.
30:2. And Jacob being angry with her, answered:  Am I as God, who hath
deprived thee of the fruit of thy womb?
30:3. But she said:  I have here my servant Bala:  go in unto her, that
she may bear upon my knees, and I may have children by her.
30:4. And she gave him Bala in marriage:  who,
30:5. When her husband had gone in unto her, conceived and bore a son.
30:6. And Rachel said:  The Lord hath judged for me, and hath heard my
voice, giving me a son; and therefore she called his name Dan.
30:7. And again Bala conceived, and bore another,
30:8. For whom Rachel said:  God hath compared me with my sister, and I
have prevailed:  and she called him Nephthali.
30:9. Lia perceiving that she had left of bearing, gave Zelpha, her
handmaid, to her husband.
30:10. And when she had conceived, and brought forth a son,
30:11. She said:  Happily.  And therefore called his name Gad.
30:12. Zelpha also bore another.
30:13. And Lia said:  This is for my happiness:  for women will call me
blessed.  Therefore she called him Aser.
30:14. And Ruben going out in the time of the wheat harvest into the
field, found mandrakes:  which he brought to his mother Lia.  And Rachel
said:  Give me part of thy son's mandrakes.
30:15. She answered:  Dost thou think it a small matter, that thou hast
taken my husband from me, unless thou take also my son's mandrakes?
Rachel said:  He shall sleep with thee this night, for thy son's
30:16. And when Jacob returned at even from the field, Lia went out to
meet him, and said:  Thou shalt come in unto me, because I have hired
thee for my son's mandrakes.  And he slept with her that night.
30:17. And God heard her prayers; and she conceived:  and bore a fifth
30:18. And said:  God hath given me a reward, because I gave my handmaid
to my husband.  And she called his name Issachar.
30:19. And Lia conceived again, and bore the sixth son,
30:20. And said:  God hath endowed me with a good dowry; this turn also
my husband will be with me, because I have borne him six sons:  and
therefore she called his name Zabulon.
30:21. After whom she bore a daughter, named Dina.
30:22. The Lord also remembering Rachel, heard her, and opened her
30:23. And she conceived, and bore a son, saying:  God hath taken away
my reproach.
30:24. And she called his name Joseph:  saying:  The Lord give me also
another son.
30:25. And when Joseph was born, Jacob said to his father-in-law:  Send
me away, that I may return into my country, and to my land.
30:26. Give me my wives, and my children, for whom I have served thee,
that I may depart:  thou knowest the service that I have rendered thee.
30:27. Laban said to him:  Let me find favour in thy sight:  I have
learned, by experience, that God hath blessed me for thy sake.
30:28. Appoint thy wages which I shall give thee.
30:29. But he answered:  Thou knowest how I have served thee, and how
great thy possession hath been in my hands.
30:30. Thou hadst but little before I came to thee, and now thou art
become rich:  and the Lord hath blessed thee at my coming.  It is
reasonable, therefore, that I should now provide also for my own house.
30:31. And Laban said:  What shall I give thee?  But he said:  I require
nothing; but if thou wilt do what I demand, I will feed and keep thy
sheep again.
30:32. Go round through all thy flocks, and separate all the sheep of
divers colours, and speckled; and all that is brown and spotted, and of
divers colours, as well among the sheep as among the goats, shall be my
30:33. And my justice shall answer for me tomorrow before thee, when
the time of the bargain shall come; and all that is not of divers
colours, and spotted, and brown, as well among the sheep as among the
goats, shall accuse me of theft.
30:34. And Laban said:  I like well what thou demandest.
30:35. And he separated the same day the she-goats, and the sheep, and
the he-goats, and the rams of divers colours, and spotted; and all the
flock of one colour, that is, of white and black fleece, he delivered
into the hands of his sons.
30:36. And he set the space of three days journey betwixt himself and
his son-in-law, who fed the rest of his flock.
30:37. And Jacob took green rods of poplar, and of almond, and of
plane-trees, and pilled them in part:  so when the bark was taken off,
in the parts that were pilled, there appeared whiteness:  but the parts
that were whole, remained green:  and by this means the colour was
30:38. And he put them in the troughs, where the water was poured out;
that when the flocks should come to drink, they might have the rods
before their eyes, and in the sight of them might conceive.
30:39. And it came to pass, that in the very heat of coition, the sheep
beheld the rods, and brought forth spotted, and of divers colours, and
30:40. And Jacob separated the flock, and put the rods in the troughs
before the eyes of the rams; and all the white and the black were
Laban's, and the rest were Jacob's, when the flocks were separated one
from the other.
30:41. So when the ewes went first to ram, Jacob put the rods in the
troughs of water before the eyes of the rams, and of the ewes, that
they might conceive while they were looking upon them.
30:42. But when the later coming was, and the last conceiving, he did
not put them.  And those that were lateward, became Laban's; and they of
the first time, Jacob's.
30:43. And the man was enriched exceedingly, and he had many flocks,
maid-servants and men-servants, camels and asses.
Genesis Chapter 31
Jacob's departure:  he is pursued and overtaken by Laban.  They make a
31:1. But after that he had heard the words of the sons of Laban,
saying:  Jacob hath taken away all that was our father's, and being
enriched by his substance is become great.
31:2. And perceiving also, that Laban's countenance was not towards him
as yesterday and the other day.
31:3. Especially the Lord saying to him:  Return into the land of thy
fathers and to thy kindred, and I will be with thee.
31:4. He sent, and called Rachel and Lia into the field, where he fed
31:5. And said to them:  I see your father's countenance is not towards
me as yesterday and the other day:  but the God of my father hath been
31:6. And you know that I have served your father to the uttermost of
31:7. Yea your father hath also overreached me, and hath changed my
wages ten times:  and yet God hath not suffered him to hurt me.
31:8. If at any time, he said:  The speckled shall be thy wages:  all the
sheep brought forth speckled:  but when he said on the contrary:  Thou
shalt take all the white one for thy wages:  all the flocks brought
forth white ones.
31:9. And God hath taken your father's substance, and given it to me.
31:10. For after the time came of the ewes conceiving, I lifted up my
eyes, and saw in my sleep, that the males which leaped upon the females
were of divers colours, and spotted, and speckled.
31:11. And the angel of God said to me in my sleep:  Jacob.  And I
answered:  Here I am.
31:12. And he said:  Lift up thy eyes, and see that all the males
leaping upon the females, are of divers colours, spotted and speckled.
For I have seen all that Laban hath done to thee.
31:13. I am the God of Bethel, where thou didst anoint the stone, and
make a vow to me.  Now therefore arise, and go out of this land, and
return into thy native country.
31:14. And Rachel and Lia answered:  Have we any thing left among the
goods and inheritance of our father's house?
31:15. Hath he not counted us as strangers, and sold us, and eaten up
the price of us?
31:16. But God hath taken our father's riches, and delivered them to
us, and to our children:  wherefore, do all that God hath commanded
31:17. Then Jacob rose up, and having set his children and wives upon
camels, went his way.
31:18. And he took all his substance, and flocks, and whatsoever he had
gotten in Mesopotamia, and went forward to Isaac, his father, to the
land of Chanaan.
31:19. At that time Laban was gone to shear his sheep, and Rachel stole
away her father's idols.
Her father's idols. . .By this it appears that Laban was an idolater;
and some of the fathers are of opinion that Rachel stole away these
idols to withdraw him from idolatry, removing the occasion of his sin.
31:20. And Jacob would not confess to his father-in-law that he was
flying away.
31:21. And when he was gone, together with all that belonged to him,
and having passed the river, was going on towards mount Galaad,
31:22. It was told Laban on the third day, that Jacob fled.
31:23. And he took his brethren with him, and pursued after him seven
days; and overtook him in the mount of Galaad.
31:24. And he saw in a dream God, saying to him:  Take heed thou speak
not any thing harshly against Jacob.
31:25. Now Jacob had pitched his tent in the mountain:  and when he,
with his brethren, had overtaken him, he pitched his tent in the same
mount of Galaad.
31:26. And he said to Jacob:  Why hast thou done thus, to carry away,
without my knowledge, my daughters as captives taken with the sword?
31:27. Why wouldst thou run away privately, and not acquaint me, that I
might have brought thee on the way with joy, and with songs, and with
timbrels, and with harps?
31:28. Thou hast not suffered me to kiss my sons and daughters; thou
hast done foolishly; and now indeed,
31:29. It is in my power to return thee evil; but the God of your
father said to me yesterday:  Take heed thou speak not any thing harshly
against Jacob.
31:30. Suppose thou didst desire to go to thy friends, and hadst a
longing after thy father's house:  why hast thou stolen away my gods?
31:31. Jacob answered:  That I departed unknown to thee, it was for fear
lest thou wouldst take away thy daughters by force.
31:32. But, whereas, thou chargest me with theft:  with whomsoever thou
shalt find thy gods, let him be slain before our brethren.  Search, and
if thou find any of thy things with me, take them away.  Now when he
said this, he knew not that Rachel had stolen the idols.
31:33. So Laban went into the tent of Jacob, and of Lia, and of both
the handmaids, and found them not.  And when he was entered into
Rachel's tent,
31:34. She, in haste, hid the idols under the camel's furniture, and
sat upon them:  and when he had searched all the tent, and found
31:35. She said:  Let not my lord be angry that I cannot rise up before
thee, because it has now happened to me according to the custom of
women.  So his careful search was in vain.
31:36. And Jacob being angry, said in a chiding manner:  For what fault
of mine, and for what offence on my part hast thou so hotly pursued me,
31:37. And searched all my household stuff?  What hast thou found of all
the substance of thy house?  lay it here before my brethren, and thy
brethren, and let them judge between me and thee.
31:38. Have I, therefore, been with thee twenty years?  thy ewes and
goats were not barren, the rams of thy flocks I did not eat:
31:39. Neither did I shew thee that which the beast had torn; I made
good all the damage:  whatsoever was lost by theft, thou didst exact it
31:40. Day and night was I parched with heat, and with frost, and sleep
departed from my eyes.
31:41. And in this manner have I served thee in thy house twenty years,
fourteen for thy daughters, and six for thy flocks:  thou hast changed
also my wages ten times.
31:42. Unless the God of my father, Abraham, and the fear of Isaac, had
stood by me, peradventure now thou hadst sent me away naked:  God beheld
my affliction and the labour of my hands, and rebuked thee yesterday.
31:43. Laban answered him:  The daughters are mine, and the children,
and thy flocks, and all things that thou seest are mine:  what can I do
to my children, and grandchildren?
31:44. Come, therefore, let us enter into a league; that it may be for
a testimony between me and thee.
31:45. And Jacob took a stone, and set it up for a title.
31:46. And he said to his brethren:  Bring hither stones.  And they,
gathering stones together, made a heap, and they ate upon it.
31:47. And Laban called it, The witness heap; and Jacob, The hillock of
testimony:  each of them according to the propriety of his language.
31:48. And Laban said:  This heap shall be a witness between me and thee
this day, and therefore the name thereof was called Galaad, that is,
The witness heap.
31:49. The Lord behold and judge between us, when we shall be gone one
from the other.
31:50. If thou afflict my daughters, and if thou bring in other wives
over them:  none is witness of our speech but God, who is present and
31:51. And he said again to Jacob:  Behold this heap, and the stone
which I have set up between me and thee,
31:52. Shall be a witness:  this heap, I say, and the stone, be they for
a testimony, if either I shall pass beyond it going towards thee, or
thou shalt pass beyond it thinking harm to me.
31:53. The God of Abraham, and the God of Nachor, the God of their
father, judge between us.  And Jacob swore by the fear of his father
31:54. And after he had offered sacrifices in the mountain, he called
his brethren to eat bread.  And when they had eaten, they lodged there:
31:55. But Laban arose in the night, and kissed his sons and daughters,
and blessed them:  and returned to his place.
Genesis Chapter 32
Jacob's vision of angels; his message and presents to Esau; his
wrestling with an angel.
32:1. Jacob also went on the journey he had begun:  and the angels of
God met him.
32:2. And when he saw them, he said:  These are the camps of God, and he
called the name of that place Mahanaim, that is, Camps.
32:3. And he sent messengers before him to Esau, his brother, to the
land of Seir, to the country of Edom:
32:4. And he commanded them, saying:  Thus shall ye speak to my lord
Esau:  Thus saith thy brother Jacob:  I have sojourned with Laban, and
have been with him until this day:
32:5. I have oxen, and asses, and sheep, and menservants, and
womenservants:  and now I send a message to my lord, that I may find
favour in thy sight.
32:6. And the messengers returned to Jacob, saying:  We came to Esau,
thy brother, and behold he cometh with speed to meet thee with four
hundred men.
32:7. Then Jacob was greatly afraid; and in his fear divided the people
that was with him, and the flocks, and the sheep, and the oxen, and the
camels, into two companies,
32:8. Saying:  If Esau come to one company, and destroy it, the other
company that is left, shall escape.
32:9. And Jacob said:  O God of my father Abraham, and God of my father
Isaac:  O Lord who saidst to me, Return to thy land, and to the place of
thy birth, and I will do well for thee.
32:10. I am not worthy of the least of all thy mercies, and of thy
truth which thou hast fulfilled to thy servant.  With my staff I passed
over this Jordan; and now I return with two companies.
32:11. Deliver me from the hand of my brother Esau, for I am greatly
afraid of him; lest perhaps he come, and kill the mother with the
32:12. Thou didst say, that thou wouldst do well by me, and multiply my
seed like the sand of the sea, which cannot be numbered for multitude.
32:13. And when he had slept there that night, he set apart, of the
things which he had, presents for his brother Esau,
32:14. Two hundred she-goats, twenty he-goats, two hundred ewes, and
twenty rams,
32:15. Thirty milch camels with their colts, forty kine, and twenty
bulls, twenty she-asses, and ten of their foals.
32:16. And he sent them by the hands of his servants, every drove by
itself, and he said to his servants:  Go before me, and let there be a
space between drove and drove.
32:17. And he commanded the first, saying:  If thou meet my brother
Esau, and he ask thee:  Whose art thou?  or whither goest thou?  or whose
are these before thee?
32:18. Thou shalt answer:  Thy servant Jacob's:  he hath sent them as a
present to my lord Esau; and he cometh after us.
32:19. In like manner he commanded the second, and the third, and all
that followed the droves, saying:  Speak ye the same words to Esau, when
ye find him.
32:20. And ye shall add:  Thy servant Jacob himself also followeth after
us; for he said:  I will appease him with the presents that go before,
and afterwards I will see him, perhaps he will be gracious to me.
32:21. So the presents went before him, but himself lodged that night
in the camp.
32:22. And rising early, he took his two wives and his two handmaids,
with his eleven sons, and passed over the ford of Jaboc.
32:23. And when all things were brought over that belonged to him,
32:24. He remained alone; and behold, a man wrestled with him till
A man, etc. . .This was an angel in human shape, as we learn from Osee
12.4. He is called God, ver. 28 and 30, because he represented the
person of the Son of God.  This wrestling, in which Jacob, assisted by
God, was a match for an angel, was so ordered (ver. 28,) that he might
learn by this experiment of the divine assistance, that neither Esau,
nor any other man, should have power to hurt him.--It was also
spiritual, as appeareth by his earnest prayer, urging and at last
obtaining the angel's blessing.
32:25. And when he saw that he could not overcome him, he touched the
sinew of his thigh, and forthwith it shrank.
32:26. And he said to him:  Let me go, for it is break of day.  He
answered:  I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.
32:27. And he said:  What is thy name?  He answered:  Jacob.
32:28. But he said:  Thy name shall not be called Jacob, but Israel; for
if thou hast been strong against God, how much more shalt thou prevail
against men?
32:29. Jacob asked him:  Tell me by what name art thou called?  He
answered:  Why dost thou ask my name?  And he blessed him in the same
32:30. And Jacob called the name of the place Phanuel, saying:  I have
seen God face to face, and my soul has been saved.
Phanuel. . .This word signifies the face of God, or the sight, or seeing
32:31. And immediately the sun rose upon him, after he was past
Phanuel; but he halted on his foot.
32:32. Therefore the children of Israel, unto this day, eat not the
sinew, that shrank in Jacob's thigh:  because he touched the sinew of
his thigh and it shrank.
Genesis Chapter 33
Jacob and Esau meet:  Jacob goeth to Salem, where he raiseth an altar.
33:1. And Jacob lifting up his eyes, saw Esau coming, and with him four
hundred men:  and he divided the children of Lia and of Rachel, and of
the two handmaids.
33:2. And he put both the handmaids and their children foremost:  and
Lia and her children in the second place:  and Rachel and Joseph last.
33:3. And he went forward and bowed down with his face to the ground
seven times, until his brother came near.
33:4. Then Esau ran to meet his brother, and embraced him:  and clasping
him fast about the neck, and kissing him, wept.
33:5. And lifting up his eyes, he saw the women and their children, and
said:  What mean these?  And do they belong to thee?  He answered:  They
are the children which God hath given to me, thy servant.
33:6. Then the handmaids and their children came near and bowed
33:7. Lia also, with her children, came near and bowed down in like
manner; and last of all, Joseph and Rachel bowed down.
33:8. And Esau said:  What are the droves that I met?  He answered:  That
I might find favour before my lord.
33:9. But he said:  I have plenty, my brother, keep what is thine for
33:10. And Jacob said:  Do not so I beseech thee, but if I have found
favour in thy eyes, receive a little present at my hands:  for I have
seen thy face, as if I should have seen the countenance of God:  be
gracious to me,
33:11. And take the blessing which I have brought thee, and which God
hath given me, who giveth all things.  He took it with much ado at his
brother's earnest pressing him,
33:12. And said:  Let us go on together, and I will accompany thee in
thy journey.
33:13. And Jacob said:  My lord, thou knowest that I have with me tender
children, and sheep, and kine with young:  which if I should cause to be
overdriven, in one day all the flocks will die.
33:14. May it please my lord to go before his servant:  and I will
follow softly after him, as I shall see my children to be able, until I
come to my lord in Seir.
33:15. Esau answered:  I beseech thee, that some of the people, at
least, who are with me, may stay to accompany thee in the way.  And he
said:  There is no necessity:  I want nothing else but only to find
favour, my lord, in thy sight.
33:16. So Esau returned that day, the way that he came, to Seir.
33:17. And Jacob came to Socoth:  where having built a house, and
pitched tents, he called the name of the place Socoth, that is, Tents.
33:18. And he passed over to Salem, a city of the Sichemites, which is
in the land of Chanaan, after he returned from Mesopotamia of Syria:
and he dwelt by the town.
33:19. And he bought that part of the field, in which he pitched his
tents, of the children of Hemor, the father of Sichem, for a hundred
33:20. And raising an altar there, he invoked upon it the most mighty
God of Israel.
Genesis Chapter 34
Dina is ravished, for which the Sichemites are destroyed.
34:1. And Dina the daughter of Lia went out to see the women of that
34:2. And when Sichem the son of Hemor the Hevite, the prince of that
land, saw her, he was in love with her:  and took her away, and lay with
her, ravishing the virgin.
34:3. And his soul was fast knit unto her; and whereas she was sad, he
comforted her with sweet words.
34:4. And going to Hemor his father, he said:  Get me this damsel to
34:5. But when Jacob had heard this, his sons being absent, and
employed in feeding the cattle, he held his peace till they came back.
34:6. And when Hemor the father of Sichem was come out to speak to
34:7. Behold his sons came from the field:  and hearing what had passed,
they were exceeding angry, because he had done a foul thing in Israel,
and committed an unlawful act, in ravishing Jacob's daughter.
34:8. And Hemor spoke to them:  The soul of my son Sichem has a longing
for your daughter:  give her him to wife:
34:9. And let us contract marriages one with another:  give us your
daughters, and take you our daughters.
34:10. And dwell with us:  the land is at your command, till, trade, and
34:11. Sichem also said to her father and to her brethren:  Let me find
favour in your sight, and whatsoever you shall appoint I will give:
34:12. Raise the dowry, and ask gifts, and I will gladly give what you
shall demand:  only give me this damsel to wife.
34:13. The sons of Jacob answered Sichem and his father deceitfully,
being enraged at the deflowering of their sister:
Deceitfully. . .The sons of Jacob, on this occasion, were guilty of a
grievous sin, as well by falsely pretending religion, as by excess of
revenge:  though otherwise their zeal against so foul a crime was
commendable.
34:14. We cannot do what you demand, nor give our sister to one that is
uncircumcised; which with us is unlawful and abominable.
34:15. But in this we may be allied with you, if you will be like us,
and all the male sex among you be circumcised:
34:16. Then will we mutually give and take your daughters, and ours;
and we will dwell with you, and will be one people:
34:17. But if you will not be circumcised, we will take our daughter
34:18. Their offer pleased Hemor, and Sichem, his son:
34:19. And the young man made no delay, but forthwith fulfilled what
was required:  for he loved the damsel exceedingly, and he was the
greatest man in all his father's house.
34:20. And going into the gate of the city, they spoke to the people:
34:21. These men are peaceable, and are willing to dwell with us:  let
them trade in the land, and till it, which being large and wide wanteth
men to till it:  we shall take their daughters for wives, and we will
give them ours.
34:22. One thing there is for which so great a good is deferred:  We
must circumcise every male among us, following the manner of the
34:23. And their substance, and cattle, and all that they possess,
shall be ours; only in this let us condescend, and by dwelling
together, we shall make one people.
34:24. And they all agreed, and circumcised all the males.
34:25. And behold the third day, when the pain of the wound was
greatest:  two of the sons of Jacob, Simeon and Levi, the brothers of
Dina, taking their swords, entered boldly into the city and slew all
34:26. And they killed also Hemor and Sichem, and took away their
sister Dina out of Sichem's house.
34:27. And when they were gone out, the other sons of Jacob came upon
the slain; and plundered the city in revenge of the rape.
34:28. And they took their sheep, and their herds, and their asses,
wasting all they had in their houses and in their fields.
34:29. And their children and wives they took captive.
34:30. And when they had boldly perpetrated these things, Jacob said to
Simeon and Levi:  You have troubled me, and made me hateful to the
Chanaanites and Pherezites, the inhabitants of this land.  We are few:
they will gather themselves together and kill me; and both I, and my
house shall be destroyed.
34:31. They answered:  Should they abuse our sister as a strumpet?
Genesis Chapter 35
Jacob purgeth his family from idols:  goeth by God's commandment to
Bethel, and there buildeth an altar.  God appearing again to Jacob
blesseth him, and changeth his name into Israel.  Rachel dieth in
childbirth.  Isaac also dieth.
35:1. In the mean time God said to Jacob:  Arise and go up to Bethel,
and dwell there, and make there an altar to God, who appeared to thee
when thou didst flee from Esau, thy brother.
35:2. And Jacob having called together all his household, said:  Cast
away the strange gods that are among you, and be cleansed, and change
your garments.
35:3. Arise, and let us go up to Bethel, that we may make there an
altar to God; who heard me in the day of my affliction, and accompained
me in my journey.
35:4. So they gave him all the strange gods they had, and the earrings
which were in their ears:  and he buried them under the turpentine tree,
that is behind the city of Sichem.
35:5. And when they were departed, the terror of God fell upon all the
cities round about, and they durst not pursue after them as they went
35:6. And Jacob came to Luza, which is in the land of Chanaan, surnamed
Bethel:  he and all the people that were with him.
35:7. And he built there an altar, and called the name of that place,
The house of God:  for there God appeared to him when he fled from his
35:8. At the same time Debora, the nurse of Rebecca, died, and was
buried at the foot of Bethel, under an oak, and the name of that place
was called, The oak of weeping.
35:9. And God appeared again to Jacob, after he returned from
Mesopotamia of Syria, and he blessed him,
35:10. Saying:  Thou shalt not be called any more Jacob, but Israel
shall be thy name.  And he called him Israel.
Israel. . .This name signifieth one that prevaileth with God.
35:11. And said to him:  I am God almighty, increase thou and be
multiplied.  Nations and peoples of nations shall be from thee, and
kings shall come out of thy loins.
35:12. And the land which I gave to Abraham and Isaac, I will give to
thee, and to thy seed after thee.
35:13. And he departed from him.
35:14. But he set up a monument of stone, in the place where God had
spoken to him:  pouring drink-offerings upon it, and pouring oil
35:15. And calling the name of that place Bethel.
35:16. And going forth from thence, he came in the spring time to the
land which leadeth to Ephrata:  wherein when Rachel was in travail,
35:17. By reason of her hard labour, she began to be in danger, and the
midwife said to her:  Fear not, for thou shalt have this son also.
35:18. And when her soul was departing for pain, and death was now at
hand, she called the name of her son Benoni, that is, the son of my
pain:  but his father called him Benjamin, that is, the son of the right
35:19. So Rachel died, and was buried in the highway that leadeth to
Ephrata, this is Bethlehem.
35:20. And Jacob erected a pillar over her sepulchre:  this is the
pillar of Rachel's monument, to this day.
35:21. Departing thence, he pitched his tent beyond the Flock tower.
35:22. And when he dwelt in that country, Ruben went, and slept with
Bala the concubine of his father:  which he was not ignorant of.  Now the
sons of Jacob were twelve.
The concubine. . .She was his lawful wife; but, according to the style
of the Hebrews, is called concubine, because of her servile extraction.
35:23. The sons of Lia:  Ruben the first born, and Simeon, and Levi, and
Juda, and Issachar, and Zabulon.
35:24. The sons of Rachel:  Joseph and Benjamin.
35:25. The sons of Bala, Rachel's handmaid:  Dan and Nephthali.
35:26. The sons of Zelpha, Lia's handmaid:  Gad and Aser:  these are the
sons of Jacob, that were born to him in Mesopotamia of Syria.
35:27. And he came to Isaac his father in Mambre, the city of Arbee,
this is Hebron:  wherein Abraham and Isaac sojourned.
35:28. And the days of Isaac were a hundred and eighty years.
35:29. And being spent with age he died, and was gathered to his
people, being old and full of days:  and his sons Esau and Jacob buried
Genesis Chapter 36
Esau with his wives and children parteth from Jacob.  An account of his
descendants, and of the first kings of Edom.
36:1. And these are the generations of Esau, the same is Edom.
36:2. Esau took wives of the daughters of Chanaan:  Ada the daughter of
Elon the Hethite, and Oolibama the daughter of Ana, the daughter of
Sebeon the Hevite:
Ada. . .These wives of Esau are called by other names, Gen. 26.  But it
was very common amongst the ancients for the same persons to have two
names, as Esau himself was also called Edom.
36:3. And Basemath, the daughter of Ismael, sister of Nabajoth.
36:4. And Ada bore Eliphaz:  Basemath bore Rahuel.
36:5. Oolibama bore Jehus, and Ihelon, and Core.  These are the sons of
Esau, that were born to him in the land of Chanaan.
36:6. And Esau took his wives, and his sons and daughters, and every
soul of his house, and his substance, and cattle, and all that he was
able to acquire in the land of Chanaan:  and went into another country,
and departed from his brother Jacob.
36:7. For they were exceeding rich, and could not dwell together:
neither was the land in which they sojourned able to bear them, for the
multitude of their flocks.
36:8. And Esau dwelt in mount Seir:  he is Edom.
36:9. And these are the generations of Esau, the father of Edom, in
36:10. And these the names of his sons:  Eliphaz the son of Ada, the
wife of Esau:  and Rahuel, the son of Basemath, his wife.
36:11. And Eliphaz had sons:  Theman, Omar, Sepho, and Gatham and Cenez.
36:12. And Thamna was the concubine of Eliphaz, the son of Esau:  and
she bore him Amalech.  These are the sons of Ada, the wife of Esau.
36:13. And the sons of Rahuel were Nahath and Zara, Samma and Meza.
These were the sons of Basemath, the wife of Esau.
36:14. And these were the sons of Oolibama, the daughter of Ana, the
daughter of Sebeon, the wife of Esau, whom she bore to him, Jehus, and
Ihelon, and Core.
36:15. These were dukes of the sons of Esau:  the sons of Eliphaz, the
firstborn of Esau:  duke Theman, duke Omar, duke Sepho, duke Cenez,
36:16. Duke Core, duke Gatham, duke Amalech:  these are the sons of
Eliphaz, in the land of Edom, and these the sons of Ada.
36:17. And these were the sons of Rahuel, the son of Esau:  duke Nahath,
duke Zara, duke Samma, duke Meza.  And these are the dukes of Rahuel, in
the land of Edom:  these the sons of Basemath, the wife of Esau.
36:18. And these the sons of Oolibama, the wife of Esau:  duke Jehus,
duke Ihelon, duke Core.  These are the dukes of Oolibama, the daughter
of Ana, and wife of Esau.
36:19. These are the sons of Esau, and these the dukes of them:  the
same is Edom.
36:20. These are the sons of Seir, the Horrite, the inhabitants of the
land:  Lotan, and Sobal, and Sebeon, and Ana,
36:21. And Dison, and Eser, and Disan.  These are dukes of the Horrites,
the sons of Seir, in the land of Edom.
36:22. And Lotan had sons:  Hori and Heman.  And the sister of Lotan was
36:23. And these the sons of Sobal:  Alvan, and Manahat, and Ebal, and
Sepho, and Onam.
36:24. And these the sons of Sebeon:  Aia and Ana.  This is Ana that
found the hot waters in the wilderness, when he fed the asses of
Sebeon, his father:
36:25. And he had a son Dison, and a daughter Oolibama.
36:26. And these were the sons of Dison:  Hamdan, and Eseban, and
Jethram, and Charan.
36:27. These also were the sons of Eser:  Balaan, and Zavan, and Acan.
36:28. And Dison had sons:  Hus and Aram.
36:29. These were dukes of the Horrites:  duke Lotan, duke Sobal, duke
Sebeon, duke Ana,
36:30. Duke Dison, duke Eser, duke Disan:  these were dukes of the
Horrites that ruled in the land of Seir.
36:31. And the kings that ruled in the land of Edom, before the
children of Israel had a king, were these:
36:32. Bela the son of Beor, and the name of his city Denaba.
36:33. And Bela died, and Jobab, the son of Zara, of Bosra, reigned in
36:34. And when Jobab was dead, Husam, of the land of the Themanites,
reigned in his stead.
36:35. And after his death, Adad, the son of Badad, reigned in his
stead, who defeated the Madianites in the country of Boab; and the name
of his city was Avith.
36:36. And when Adad was dead, there reigned in his stead, Semla, of
36:37. And he being dead, Saul, of the river Rohoboth, reigned in his
36:38. And when he also was dead, Balanan, the son of Achobor,
succeeded to the kingdom.
36:39. This man also being dead, Adar reigned in his place; and the
name of his city was Phau:  and his wife was called Meetabel, the
daughter of Matred, daughter of Mezaab.
36:40. And these are the names of the dukes of Esau in their kindreds,
and places, and callings:  duke Thamna, duke Alva, duke Jetheth,
36:41. Duke Oolibama, duke Ela, duke Phinon,
36:42. Duke Cenez, duke Theman, duke Mabsar,
36:43. Duke Magdiel, duke Hiram:  these are the dukes of Edom dwelling
in the land of their government; the same is Esau, the father of the
Genesis Chapter 37
Joseph's dreams:  he is sold by his brethren, and carried into Egypt.
37:1. And Jacob dwelt in the land of Chanaan, wherein his father
37:2. And these are his generations:  Joseph, when he was sixteen years
old, was feeding the flock with his brethren, being but a boy:  and he
was with the sons of Bala and of Zelpha his father's wives:  and he
accused his brethren to his father of a most wicked crime.
37:3. Now Israel loved Joseph above all his sons, because he had him in
his old age:  and he made him a coat of divers colours.
37:4. And his brethren seeing that he was loved by his father, more
than all his sons, hated hem, and could not speak peaceably to him.
37:5. Now it fell out also that he told his brethren a dream, that he
had dreamed:  which occasioned them to hate him the more.
A dream. . .These dreams of Joseph were prophetical, and sent from God;
as were also those which he interpreted, Gen. 40. and 41.; otherwise
generally speaking, the observing of dreams is condemned in the
Scripture, as superstitious and sinful.  See Deut. 18.10; Eccli. 34.2,3.
37:6. And he said to them:  Hear my dream which I dreamed.
37:7. I thought we were binding sheaves in the field:  and my sheaf
arose as it were, and stood, and your sheaves standing about bowed down
before my sheaf.
37:8. His brethren answered:  Shalt thou be our king?  or shall we be
subject to thy dominion?  Therefore this matter of his dreams and words
ministered nourishment to their envy and hatred.
37:9. He dreamed also another dream, which he told his brethren,
saying:  I saw in a dream, as it were the sun, and the moon, and eleven
stars worshipping me.
37:10. And when he had told this to his father, and brethren, his
father rebuked him and said:  What meaneth this dream that thou hast
dreamed?  shall I and thy mother, and thy brethren worship thee upon the
Worship. . .This word is not used here to signify divine worship, but an
inferior veneration, expressed by the bowing of the body, and that,
according to the manner of the eastern nations, down to the ground.
37:11. His brethren therefore envied him:  but his father considered the
thing with himself.
37:12. And when his brethren abode in Sechem, feeding their father's
37:13. Israel said to him:  Thy brethren feed the sheep in Sichem:  come,
I will send thee to them.  And when he answered:
37:14. I am ready:  he said to him:  Go, and see if all things be well
with thy brethren, and the cattle:  and bring me word again what is
doing.  So being sent from the vale of Hebron, he came to Sichem:
37:15. And a man found him there wandering in the field, and asked what
37:16. But he answered:  I seek my brethren, tell me where they feed the
37:17. And the man said to him:  They are departed from this place:  for
I heard them say:  Let us go to Dothain.  And Joseph went forward after
his brethren, and found them in Dothain.
37:18. And when they saw him afar off, before he came nigh them, they
thought to kill him:
37:19. And said one to another:  Behold the dreamer cometh.
37:20. Come, let us kill him, and cast him into some old pit:  and we
will say:  Some evil beast hath devoured him:  and then it shall appear
what his dreams avail him:
37:21. And Ruben hearing this, endeavoured to deliver him out of their
hands, and said:
37:22. Do not take away his life, nor shed his blood:  but cast him into
this pit, that is in the wilderness, and keep your hands harmless:  now
he said this, being desirous to deliver him out of their hands and to
restore him to his father.
37:23. And as soon as he came to his brethren, they forthwith stript
him of his outside coat, that was of divers colours:
37:24. And cast him into an old pit where there was not water.
37:25. And sitting down to eat bread, they saw some Ismaelites on their
way coming from Galaad, with their camels, carrying spices, and balm,
and myrrh to Egypt.
37:26. And Juda said to his brethren:  What will it profit us to kill
our brother, and conceal his blood?
37:27. It is better that he be sold to the Ismaelites, and that our
hands be not defiled:  for he is our brother and our flesh.  His brethren
agreed to his words.
37:28. And when the Madianite merchants passed by, they drew him out of
the pit, and sold him to the Ismaelites, for twenty pieces of silver:
and they led him into Egypt.
37:29. And Ruben returning to the pit, found not the boy:
37:30. And rending his garments he went to his brethren, and said:  The
boy doth not appear, and whither shall I go?
37:31. And they took his coat, and dipped it in the blood of a kid,
which they had killed:
37:32. Sending some to carry it to their father, and to say:  This we
have found:  see whether it be thy son's coat, or not.
37:33. And the father acknowledging it, said:  It is my son's coat, an
evil wild beast hath eaten him, a beast hath devoured Joseph.
37:34. And tearing his garments, he put on sackcloth, mourning for his
son a long time.
37:35. And all his children being gathered together to comfort their
father in his sorrow, he would not receive comfort, but said:  I will go
down to my son into hell, mourning.  And whilst he continued weeping,
Into hell. . .That is, into limbo, the place where the souls of the just
were received before the death of our Redeemer.  For allowing that the
word hell sometimes is taken for the grave, it cannot be so taken in
this place; since Jacob did not believe his son to be in the grave,
(whom he supposed to be devoured by a wild beast,) and therefore could
not mean to go down to him thither:  but certainly meant the place of
rest where he believed his soul to be.
37:36. The Madianites sold Joseph in Egypt to Putiphar, an eunuch of
Pharao, captain of the soldiers.
An eunuch. . .This word sometimes signifies a chamberlain, courtier, or
officer of the king:  and so it is taken in this place.
Genesis Chapter 38
The sons of Juda:  the death of Her and Onan:  the birth of Phares and
38:1. At that time Juda went down from his brethren, and turned in to a
certain Odollamite, named Hiras.
38:2. And he saw there the daughter of a man of Chanaan, called Sue:
and taking her to wife, he went in unto her.
38:3. And she conceived, and bore a son, and called his name Her.
38:4. And conceiving again, she bore a son, and called him Onan.
38:5. She bore also a third:  whom she called Sela.  After whose birth,
she ceased to bear any more.
38:6. And Juda took a wife for Her, his first born, whose name was
38:7. And Her, the first born of Juda, was wicked in the sight of the
Lord:  and was slain by him.
38:8. Juda, therefore, said to Onan his son:  Go in to thy brother's
wife and marry her, that thou mayst raise seed to thy brother.
38:9. He knowing that the children should not be his, when he went in
to his brother's wife, he spilled his seed upon the ground, lest
children should be born in his brother's name.
38:10. And therefore the Lord slew him, because he did a detestable
38:11. Wherefore Juda said to Thamar his daughter-in-law:  Remain a
widow in thy father's house, till Sela my son grow up:  for he was
afraid lest he also might die, as his brethren did.  She went her way,
and dwelt in her father's house.
38:12. And after many days were past:  the daughter of Sue the wife of
Juda died:  and when he had taken comfort after his mourning, he went up
to Thamnas, to the shearers of his sheep, he and Hiras the Odollamite,
the shepherd of his flock.
38:13. And it was told Thamar that her father-in-law was come up to
Thamnas to shear his sheep.
38:14. And she put off the garments of her widowhood, and took a veil:
and changing her dress, sat in the cross way, that leadeth to Thamnas:
because Sela was grown up, and she had not been married to him.
38:15. When Juda saw her, he thought she was a harlot:  for she had
covered her face, lest she should be known.
38:16. And going to her, he said:  Suffer me to lie with thee:  for he
knew her not to be his daughter-in-law.  And she answered:  What wilt
thou give me to enjoy my company?
38:17. He said:  I will send thee a kid out of the flock.  And when she
said again:  I will suffer what thou wilt, if thou give me a pledge,
till thou send what thou promisest.
38:18. Juda said:  What wilt thou have for a pledge?  She answered:  Thy
ring and bracelet, and the staff which thou holdest in thy hand.  The
woman therefore at one copulation conceived.
38:19. And she arose and went her way:  and putting off the apparel
which she had taken, put on the garments of her widowhood.
38:20. And Juda sent a kid by his shepherd, the Odollamite, that he
might receive the pledge again, which he had given to the woman:  but
he, not finding her,
38:21. Asked the men of that place:  Where is the woman that sat in the
cross way?  And when they all made answer:  There was no harlot in this
38:22. He returned to Juda, and said to him:  I have not found her;
moreover, the men of that place said to me, that there never sat a
harlot there.
38:23. Juda said:  Let her take it to herself, surely she cannot charge
us with a lie, I sent the kid which I promised:  and thou didst not find
38:24. And behold, after three months, they told Juda, saying:  Thamar,
thy daughter-in-law, hath played the harlot, and she appeareth to have
a big belly.  And Juda said:  Bring her out that she may be burnt.
38:25. But when she was led to execution, she sent to her father in
law, saying:  By the man, to whom these things belong, I am with child.
See whose ring, and bracelet, and staff this is.
38:26. But he acknowledging the gifts, said:  She is juster than I:
because I did not give her to Sela, my son.  However he knew her no
38:27. And when she was ready to be brought to bed, there appeared
twins in her womb:  and in the very delivery of the infants, one put
forth a hand, whereon the midwife tied a scarlet thread, saying:
38:28. This shall come forth the first.
38:29. But he drawing back his hand, the other came forth:  and the
woman said:  Why is the partition divided for thee?  and therefore called
his name Phares.
Phares. . .That is, a breach or division.
38:30. Afterwards his brother came out, on whose hand was the scarlet
thread:  and she called his name Zara.
Genesis Chapter 39
Joseph hath charge of his master's house:  rejecteth his mistress's
solicitations:  is falsely accused by her, and cast into prison, where
he hath the charge of all the prisoners.
39:1. And Joseph was brought into Egypt, and Putiphar, an eunuch of
Pharao, chief captain of the army, an Egyptian, bought him of the
Ismaelites, by whom he was brought.
39:2. And the Lord was with him, and he was a prosperous man in all
things:  and he dwelt in his master's house:
39:3. Who knew very well that the Lord was with him, and made all that
he did to prosper in his hand.
39:4. And Joseph found favour in the sight of his master, and
ministered to him:  and being set over all by him, he governed the house
committed to him, and all things that were delivered to him:
39:5. And the Lord blessed the house of the Egyptian for Joseph's sake,
and multiplied all his substance, both at home and in the fields.
39:6. Neither knew he any other thing, but the bread which he ate.  And
Joseph was of a beautiful countenance, and comely to behold.
39:7. And after many days, his mistress cast her eyes on Joseph, and
said:  Lie with me.
39:8. But he in no wise consenting to that wicked act said to her:
Behold, my master hath delivered all things to me, and knoweth not what
he hath in his own house:
39:9. Neither is there any thing which is not in my power, or that he
hath not delivered to me, but thee, who art his wife; how then can I do
this wicked thing, and sin against my God?
39:10. With such words as these day by day, both the woman was
importunate with the young man, and he refused the adultery.
39:11. Now it happened on a certain day, that Joseph went into the
house, and was doing some business, without any man with him:
39:12. And she catching the skirt of his garment, said:  Lie with me.
But he leaving the garment in her hand, fled, and went out.
39:13. And when the woman saw the garment in her hands, and herself
disregarded,
39:14. She called to her the men of her house, and said to them:  See,
he hath brought in a Hebrew, to abuse us:  he came in to me, to lie with
me; and when I cried out,
39:15. And he heard my voice, he left the garment that I held, and got
39:16. For a proof therefore of her fidelity, she kept the garment, and
shewed it to her husband when he returned home:
A proof of her fidelity. . .or an argument to gain credit, argumentum
39:17. And said:  The Hebrew servant, whom thou hast brought, came to me
to abuse me.
39:18. And when he heard me cry, he left the garment which I held, and
39:19. His master hearing these things, and giving too much credit to
his wife's words, was very angry,
39:20. And cast Joseph into the prison, where the king's prisoners were
kept, and he was there shut up.
39:21. But the Lord was with Joseph, and having mercy upon him gave him
favour in the sight of the chief keeper of the prison:
39:22. Who delivered into his hand all the prisoners that were kept in
custody:  and whatsoever was done, was under him.
39:23. Neither did he himself know any thing, having committed all
things to him:  for the Lord was with him, and made all that he did to
Genesis Chapter 40
Joseph interpreteth the dreams of two of Pharao's servants in prison:
the event declareth the interpretations to be true, but Joseph is
40:1. After this, it came to pass, that two eunuchs, the butler and the
baker of the king of Egypt, offended their lord.
40:2. And Pharao being angry with them, (now the one was chief butler,
the other chief baker,)
40:3. He sent them to the prison of the commander of the soldiers, in
which Joseph also was prisoner.
40:4. But the keeper of the prison delivered them to Joseph, and he
served them.  Some little time passed, and they were kept in custody.
40:5. And they both dreamed a dream the same night, according to the
interpretation agreeing to themselves:
40:6. And when Joseph was come into them in the morning, and saw them
40:7. He asked them, saying:  Why is your countenance sadder today than
40:8. They answered:  We have dreamed a dream, and there is nobody to
interpret it to us.  And Joseph said to them:  Doth not interpretation
belong to God?  Tell me what you have dreamed:
Doth not interpretation belong to God?. . .When dreams are from God, as
these were, the interpretation of them is a gift of God.  But the
generality of dreams are not of this sort; but either proceed from the
natural complexions and dispositions of persons, or the roving of their
imaginations in the day on such objects as they are much affected with,
or from their mind being disturbed with cares and troubles, and
oppressed with bodily infirmities:  or they are suggested by evil
spirits, to flatter, or to terrify weak minds, in order to gain belief,
and so draw them into error or superstition; or at least to trouble
them in their sleep, whom they cannot move when they are awake:  so that
the general rule, with regard to dreams, is not to observe them, nor to
give any credit to them.
40:9. The chief butler first told his dream:  I saw before me a vine,
40:10. On which were three branches, which by little and little sent
out buds, and after the blossoms brought forth ripe grapes:
40:11. And the cup of Pharao was in my hand:  and I took the grapes, and
pressed them into the cup which I held, and I gave the cup to Pharao.
40:12. Joseph answered:  This is the interpretation of the dream:  The
three branches, are yet three days:
40:13. After which Pharao will remember thy service, and will restore
thee to thy former place:  and thou shalt present him the cup according
to thy office, as before thou was wont to do.
40:14. Only remember me when it shall be well with thee, and do me this
kindness:  to put Pharao in mind to take me out of this prison:
40:15. For I was stolen away out of the land of the Hebrews, and here
without any fault was cast into the dungeon.
40:16. The chief baker seeing that he had wisely interpreted the dream,
said:  I also dreamed a dream, That I had three baskets of meal upon my
40:17. And that in one basket which was uppermost, I carried all meats
that are made by the art of baking, and that the birds ate out of it.
40:18. Joseph answered:  This is the interpretation of the dream:  The
three baskets, are yet three days:
40:19. After which Pharao will take thy head from thee, and hang thee
on a cross, and the birds shall tear thy flesh.
40:20. The third day after this was the birthday of Pharao:  and he made
a great feast for his servants, and at the banquet remembered the chief
butler, and the chief baker.
40:21. And he restored the one to his place, to present him the cup:
40:22. The other he hanged on a gibbet, that the truth of the
interpreter might be shewn.
40:23. But the chief butler, when things prospered with him, forgot his
interpreter.
Genesis Chapter 41
Joseph interpreteth the two dreams of Pharao:  he is made ruler over all
41:1. After two years Pharao had a dream.  He thought he stood by the
41:2. Out of which came up seven kine, very beautiful and fat:  and they
fed in marshy places.
41:3. Other seven also came up out of the river, ill-favoured, and lean
fleshed:  and they fed on the very bank of the river, in green places:
41:4. And they devoured them, whose bodies were very beautiful and well
conditioned.  So Pharao awoke.
41:5. He slept again, and dreamed another dream:  Seven ears of corn
came up upon one stalk full and fair:
41:6. Then seven other ears sprung up thin and blasted,
41:7. And devoured all the beauty of the former.  Pharao awaked after
41:8. And when morning was come, being struck with fear, he sent to all
the interpreters of Egypt, and to all the wise men:  and they being
called for, he told them his dream, and there was not any one that
could interpret it.
41:9. Then at length the chief butler remembering, said:  I confess my
41:10. The king being angry with his servants, commanded me and the
chief baker to be cast into the prison of the captain of the soldiers.
41:11. Where in one night both of us dreamed a dream foreboding things
41:12. There was there a young man a Hebrew, servant to the same
captain of the soldiers:  to whom we told our dreams,
41:13. And we heard what afterwards the event of the thing proved to be
so.  For I was restored to my office:  and he was hanged upon a gibbet.
41:14. Forthwith at the king's command Joseph was brought out of the
prison, and they shaved him:  and changing his apparel brought him in to
41:15. And he said to him:  I have dreamed dreams, and there is no one
that can expound them:  Now I have heard that thou art very wise at
interpreting them:
41:16. Joseph answered:  Without me, God shall give Pharao a prosperous
41:17. So Pharao told what he had dreamed:  Methought I stood upon the
bank of the river,
41:18. And seven kine came up out of the river, exceeding beautiful and
full of flesh:  and they grazed on green places in a marshy pasture.
41:19. And behold, there followed these, other seven kine, so very
ill-favoured and lean, that I never saw the like in the land of Egypt:
41:20. And they devoured and consumed the former,
41:21. And yet gave no mark of their being full:  but were as lean and
ill-favoured as before.  I awoke, and then fell asleep again,
41:22. And dreamed a dream:  Seven ears of corn grew up upon one stalk,
full and very fair.
41:23. Other seven also thin and blasted, sprung of the stalk:
41:24. And they devoured the beauty of the former:  I told this dream to
the conjecturers, and there is no man that can expound it.
41:25. Joseph answered:  The king's dream is one:  God hath shewn to
Pharao what he is about to do.
41:26. The seven beautiful kine, and the seven full ears, are seven
years of plenty:  and both contain the same meaning of the dream.
41:27. And the seven lean and thin kine that came up after them, and
the seven thin ears that were blasted with the burning wind, are seven
years of famine to come:
41:28. Which shall be fulfilled in this order.
41:29. Behold, there shall come seven years of great plenty in the
whole land of Egypt:
41:30. After which shall follow other seven years of so great scarcity,
that all the abundance before shall be forgotten:  for the famine shall
consume all the land,
41:31. And the greatness of the scarcity shall destroy the greatness of
41:32. And for that thou didst see the second time a dream pertaining
to the same thing:  it is a token of the certainty, and that the word of
God cometh to pass, and is fulfilled speedily.
41:33. Now therefore let the king provide a wise and industrious man,
and make him ruler over the land of Egypt:
41:34. That he may appoint overseers over all the countries:  and gather
into barns the fifth part of the fruits, during the seven fruitful
41:35. That shall now presently ensue:  and let all the corn be laid up,
under Pharao's hands, and be reserved in the cities.
41:36. And let it be in readiness, against the famine of seven years to
come, which shall oppress Egypt, and the land shall not be consumed
with scarcity.
41:37. The counsel pleased Pharao, and all his servants.
41:38. And he said to them:  Can we find such another man, that is full
of the spirit of God?
41:39. He said therefore to Joseph:  Seeing God hath shewn thee all that
thou hast said, can I find one wiser and one like unto thee?
41:40. Thou shalt be over my house, and at the commandment of thy mouth
all the people shall obey:  only in the kingly throne will I be above
41:41. And again Pharao said to Joseph:  Behold, I have appointed thee
over the whole land of Egypt.
41:42. And he took his ring from his own hand, and gave it into his
hand:  and he put upon him a robe of silk, and put a chain of gold about
41:43. And he made him go up into his second chariot, the crier
proclaiming that all should bow their knee before him, and that they
should know he was made governor over the whole land of Egypt.
41:44. And the king said to Joseph:  I am Pharao:  without thy
commandment no man shall move hand or foot in all the land of Egypt.
41:45. And he turned his name, and called him in the Egyptian tongue
the saviour of the world.  And he gave him to wife Aseneth, the daughter
of Putiphare, priest of Heliopolis.  Then Joseph went out to the land of
The saviour of the world. . .Zaphnah paaneah.
41:46. (Now he was thirty years old when he stood before king Pharao),
and he went round all the countries of Egypt.
41:47. And the fruitfulness of the seven years came:  and the corn being
bound up into sheaves, was gathered together into the barns of Egypt.
41:48. And all the abundance of grain was laid up in every city.
41:49. And there was so great abundance of wheat, that it was equal to
the sand of the sea, and the plenty exceeded measure.
41:50. And before the famine came, Joseph had two sons born:  whom
Aseneth, the daughter of Putiphare, priest of Heliopolis, bore unto
41:51. And he called the name of the firstborn Manasses, saying:  God
hath made me to forget all my labours, and my father's house.
Manasses. . .That is, oblivion, or forgetting.
41:52. And he named the second Ephraim, saying:  God hath made me to
grow in the land of my poverty.
Ephraim. . .That is, fruitful, or growing.
41:53. Now when the seven years of plenty that had been in Egypt were
41:54. The seven years of scarcity, which Joseph had foretold, began to
come:  and the famine prevailed in the whole world, but there was bread
in all the land of Egypt.
41:55. And when there also they began to be famished, the people cried
to Pharao, for food.  And he said to them:  Go to Joseph:  and do all
that he shall say to you.
41:56. And the famine increased daily in all the land:  and Joseph
opened all the barns, and sold to the Egyptians:  for the famine had
oppressed them also.
41:57. And all provinces came into Egypt, to buy food, and to seek some
relief of their want.
Genesis Chapter 42
Jacob sendeth his ten sons to buy corn in Egypt.  Their treatment by
42:1. And Jacob hearing that food was sold in Egypt, said to his sons:
Why are ye careless?
42:2. I have heard that wheat is sold in Egypt:  Go ye down, and buy us
necessaries, that we may live, and not be consumed with want.
42:3. So the ten brethren of Joseph went down, to buy corn in Egypt:
42:4. Whilst Benjamin was kept at home by Jacob, who said to his
brethren:  Lest perhaps he take any harm in the journey.
42:5. And they entered into the land of Egypt with others that went to
buy.  For the famine was in the land of Chanaan.
42:6. And Joseph was governor in the land of Egypt, and corn was sold
by his direction to the people.  And when his brethren had bowed down to
42:7. And he knew them, he spoke as it were to strangers, somewhat
roughly, asking them:  Whence came you?  They answered:  From the land of
Chanaan, to buy necessaries of life.
42:8. And though he knew his brethren, he was not known by them.
42:9. And remembering the dreams, which formerly he had dreamed, he
said to them:  You are spies.  You are come to view the weaker parts of
You are spies. . .This he said by way of examining them, to see what
they would answer.
42:10. But they said:  It is not so, my lord; but thy servants are come
to buy food.
42:11. We are all the sons of one man:  we are come as peaceable men,
neither do thy servants go about any evil.
42:12. And he answered them:  It is otherwise:  you are come to consider
the unfenced parts of this land.
42:13. But they said:  We thy servants are twelve brethren, the sons of
one man in the land of Chanaan:  the youngest is with our father, the
other is not living.
42:14. He saith, This is it that I said:  You are spies.
42:15. I shall now presently try what you are:  by the health of Pharao,
you shall not depart hence, until your youngest brother come.
42:16. Send one of you to fetch him:  and you shall be in prison, till
what you have said be proved, whether it be true or false:  or else by
the health of Pharao you are spies.
Or else by the health of Pharao you are spies. . .That is, if these
things you say be proved false, you are to be held for spies for your
lying, and shall be treated as such.  Joseph dealt in this manner with
his brethren, to bring them by the means of affliction to a sense of
their former sin, and a sincere repentance for it.
42:17. So he put them in prison three days.
42:18. And the third day he brought them out of prison, and said:  Do as
I have said, and you shall live:  for I fear God.
42:19. If you be peaceable men, let one of your brethren be bound in
prison:  and go ye your ways, and carry the corn that you have bought,
unto your houses.
42:20. And bring your youngest brother to me, that I may find your
words to be true, and you may not die.  They did as he had said.
42:21. And they talked one to another:  We deserve to suffer these
things, because we have sinned against our brother, seeing the anguish
of his soul, when he besought us, and we would not hear:  therefore is
this affliction come upon us.
42:22. And Ruben, one of them, said:  Did not I say to you:  Do not sin
against the boy; and you would not hear me?  Behold his blood is
42:23. And they knew not that Joseph understood, because he spoke to
them by an interpreter.
42:24. And he turned himself away a little while, and wept:  and
returning, he spoke to them.
42:25. And taking Simeon, and binding him in their presence, he
commanded his servants to fill their sacks with wheat, and to put every
man's money again in their sacks, and to give them besides provisions
for the way:  and they did so.
42:26. But they having loaded their asses with the corn went their way.
42:27. And one of them opening his sack, to give his beast provender in
the inn, saw the money in the sack's mouth,
42:28. And said to his brethren:  My money is given me again; behold it
is in the sack.  And they were astonished, and troubled, and said to one
another:  What is this that God hath done unto us?
42:29. And they came to Jacob their father in the land of Chanaan, and
they told him all things that had befallen them, saying:
42:30. The lord of the land spoke roughly to us, and took us to be
spies of the country.
42:31. And we answered him:  We are peaceable men, and we mean no plot.
42:32. We are twelve brethren born of one father:  one is not living,
the youngest is with our father in the land of Chanaan.
42:33. And he said to us:  Hereby shall I know that you are peaceable
men:  Leave one of your brethren with me, and take ye necessary
provision for your houses, and go your ways,
42:34. And bring your youngest brother to me, that I may know you are
not spies:  and you may receive this man again, that is kept in prison:
and afterwards may have leave to buy what you will.
42:35. When they had told this, they poured out their corn, and every
man found his money tied in the mouth of his sack:  and all being
astonished together,
42:36. Their father Jacob said:  You have made me to be without
children:  Joseph is not living, Simeon is kept in bonds, and Benjamin
you will take away:  all these evils are fallen upon me.
42:37. And Ruben answered him:  Kill my two sons, if I bring him not
again to thee:  deliver him into my hand, and I will restore him to
42:38. But he said:  My son shall not go down with you:  his brother is
dead, and he is left alone:  if any mischief befall him in the land to
which you go, you will bring down my grey hairs with sorrow to hell.
To hell. . .That is, to that place, where the souls then remained, as
above, chapter 37. ver. 35.
Genesis Chapter 43
The sons of Jacob go again into Egypt with Benjamin.  They are
entertained by Joseph.
43:1. In the mean time the famine was heavy upon all the land.
43:2. And when they had eaten up all the corn, which they had brought
out of Egypt, Jacob said to his sons:  Go again, and buy us a little
43:3. Juda answered:  The man declared unto us with the attestation of
an oath, saying:  You shall not see my face, unless you bring your
youngest brother with you.
43:4. If therefore thou wilt send him with us, we will set out
together, and will buy necessaries for thee.
43:5. But if thou wilt not, we will not go:  for the man, as we have
often said, declared unto us, saying:  You shall not see my face without
your youngest brother.
43:6. Israel said to them:  You have done this for my misery, in that
you told him you had also another brother.
43:7. But they answered:  The man asked us in order concerning our
kindred:  if our father lived:  if we had a brother:  and we answered him
regularly, according to what he demanded:  could we know that he would
say:  Bring hither your brother with you?
43:8. And Juda said to his father:  Send the boy with me, that we may
set forward, and may live:  lest both we and our children perish.
43:9. I take the boy upon me, require him at my hand:  unless I bring
him again, and restore him to thee, I will be guilty of sin against
thee for ever.
43:10. If delay had not been made, we had been here again the second
43:11. Then Israel said to them:  If it must needs be so, do what you
will:  take of the best fruits of the land in your vessels, and carry
down presents to the man, a little balm, and honey, and storax, myrrh,
turpentine, and almonds.
Balm. . .Literally rosin, resinae; but here by that name is meant balm.
43:12. And take with you double money, and carry back what you found in
your sacks, lest perhaps it was done by mistake.
43:13. And take also your brother, and go to the man.
43:14. And may my almighty God make him favourable to you:  and send
back with you your brother, whom he keepeth, and this Benjamin:  and as
for me I shall be desolate without children.
43:15. So the men took the presents, and double money, and Benjamin:
and went down into Egypt, and stood before Joseph.
43:16. And when he had seen them, and Benjamin with them, he commanded
the steward of his house, saying:  Bring in the men into the house, and
kill victims, and prepare a feast:  because they shall eat with me at
43:17. He did as he was commanded, and brought the men into the house.
43:18. And they being much afraid, said there one to another:  Because
of the money, which we carried back the first time in our sacks, we are
brought in:  that he may bring upon us a false accusation, and by
violence make slaves of us and our asses.
43:19. Wherefore, going up to the steward of the house, at the door,
43:20. They said:  Sir, we desire thee to hear us.  We came down once
before to buy food:
43:21. And when we had bought, and were come to the inn, we opened our
sacks, and found our money in the mouths of the sacks:  which we have
now brought again in the same weight.
43:22. And we have brought other money besides, to buy what we want:  we
cannot tell who put it in our bags.
43:23. But he answered:  Peace be with you, fear not:  your God, and the
God of your father, hath given you treasure in your sacks.  For the
money, which you gave me, I have for good.  And he brought Simeon out to
43:24. And having brought them into the house, he fetched water, and
they washed their feet, and he gave provender to their asses.
43:25. But they made ready the presents, against Joseph came at noon:
for they had heard that they should eat bread there.
43:26. Then Joseph came in to his house, and they offered him the
presents, holding them in their hands; and they bowed down with their
face to the ground.
43:27. But he courteously saluting them again, asked them, saying:  Is
the old man your father in health, of whom you told me?  Is he yet
43:28. And they answered:  Thy servant our father, is in health; he is
yet living.  And bowing themselves, they made obeisance to him.
43:29. And Joseph lifting up his eyes, saw Benjamin, his brother by the
same mother, and said:  Is this your young brother, of whom you told me?
And he said:  God be gracious to thee, my son.
43:30. And he made haste, because his heart was moved upon his brother,
and tears gushed out:  and going into his chamber, he wept.
43:31. And when he had washed his face, coming out again, he refrained
himself, and said:  Set bread on the table.
43:32. And when it was set on, for Joseph apart, and for his brethren
apart, for the Egyptians also that ate with him apart, (for it is
unlawful for the Egyptians to eat with the Hebrews, and they think such
a feast profane):
43:33. They sat before him, the firstborn according to his birthright,
and the youngest according to his age.  And they wondered very much;
43:34. Taking the messes which they received of him:  and the greater
mess came to Benjamin, so that it exceeded by five parts.  And they
drank, and were merry with him.
Genesis Chapter 44
Joseph's contrivance to stop his brethren.  The humble supplication of
44:1. And Joseph commanded the steward of his house, saying:  Fill their
sacks with corn, as much as they can hold:  and put the money of every
one in the top of his sack.
44:2. And in the mouth of the younger's sack put my silver cup, and the
price which he gave for the wheat.  And it was so done.
44:3. And when the morning arose, they were sent away with their asses.
44:4. And when they were now departed out of the city, and had gone
forward a little way:  Joseph sending for the steward of his house,
said:  Arise, and pursue after the men:  and when thou hast overtaken
them, say to them:  Why have you returned evil for good?
44:5. The cup which you have stolen, is that in which my lord drinketh,
and in which he is wont to divine:  you have done a very evil thing.
44:6. He did as he had commanded him.  And having overtaken them, he
spoke to them the same words.
44:7. And they answered:  Why doth our lord speak so, as though thy
servants had committed so heinous a fact?
44:8. The money, that we found in the top of our sacks, we brought back
to thee from the land of Chanaan:  how then should it be that we should
steal out of thy lord's house, gold or silver?
44:9. With whomsoever of thy servants shall be found that which thou
seekest, let him die, and we will be the bondmen of my lord.
44:10. And he said to them:  Let it be according to your sentence:  with
whomsoever it shall be found, let him be my servant, and you shall be
44:11. Then they speedily took down their sacks to the ground, and
every man opened his sack.
44:12. Which when he had searched, beginning at the eldest, and ending
at the youngest, he found the cup in Benjamin's sack.
44:13. Then they rent their garments, and loading their asses again,
returned into the town.
44:14. And Juda at the head of his brethren went in to Joseph (for he
was not yet gone out of the place) and they all together fell down
before him on the ground.
44:15. And he said to them:  Why would you do so?  know you not that
there is no one like me in the science of divining.
The science of divining. . .He speaks of himself according to what he
was esteemed in that kingdom.  And indeed, he being truly a prophet,
knew more without comparison than any of the Egyptian sorcerers.
44:16. And Juda said to him:  What shall we answer my lord?  or what
shall we say, or be able justly to allege?  God hath found out the
iniquity of thy servants:  behold, we are all bondmen to my lord, both
we, and he with whom the cup was found.
44:17. Joseph answered:  God forbid that I should do so:  he that stole
the cup, he shall be my bondman:  and go you away free to your father.
44:18. Then Juda coming nearer, said boldly:  I beseech thee, my lord,
let thy servant speak a word in thy ears, and be not angry with thy
servant:  for after Pharao thou art.
44:19. My lord.  Thou didst ask thy servants the first time:  Have you a
father or a brother.
44:20. And we answered thee, my lord:  We have a father an old man, and
a young boy, that was born in his old age; whose brother by the mother
is dead; and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loveth him
44:21. And thou saidst to thy servants:  Bring him hither to me, and I
will set my eyes on him.
44:22. We suggested to my lord:  The boy cannot leave his father:  for if
he leave him, he will die.
44:23. And thou saidst to thy servants:  Except your youngest brother
come with you, you shall see my face no more.
44:24. Therefore when we were gone up to thy servant our father, we
told him all that my lord had said.
44:25. And our father said:  Go again, and buy us a little wheat.
44:26. And we said to him:  We cannot go:  if our youngest brother go
down with us, we will set out together:  otherwise, without him we dare
not see the man's face.
44:27. Whereunto he answered:  You know that my wife bore me two.
44:28. One went out, and you said:  A beast devoured him; and hitherto
he appeareth not.
44:29. If you take this also, and any thing befall him in the way, you
will bring down my grey hairs with sorrow unto hell.
44:30. Therefore, if I shall go to thy servant, our father, and the boy
be wanting, (whereas his life dependeth upon the life of him,)
44:31. And he shall see that he is not with us, he will die, and thy
servants shall bring down his grey hairs with sorrow unto hell.
His gray hairs. . .That is, his person, now far advanced in years.--With
sorrow unto hell. . .The Hebrew word for hell is here sheol, the Greek
hades:  it is not taken for the hell of the damned; but for that place
of souls below where the servants of God were kept before the coming of
Christ.  Which place, both in the Scripture and in the creed, is named
44:32. Let me be thy proper servant, who took him into my trust, and
promised, saying:  If I bring him not again, I will be guilty of sin
against my father for ever.
44:33. Therefore I, thy servant, will stay instead of the boy in the
service of my lord, and let the boy go up with his brethren.
44:34. For I cannot return to my father without the boy, lest I be a
witness of the calamity that will oppress my father.
Genesis Chapter 45
Joseph maketh himself known to his brethren:  and sendeth for his
45:1. Joseph could no longer refrain himself before many that stood by:
whereupon he commanded that all should go out, and no stranger be
present at their knowing one another.
45:2. And he lifted up his voice with weeping, which the Egyptians, and
all the house of Pharao heard.
45:3. And he said to his brethren:  I am Joseph:  Is my father yet
living?  His brethren could not answer him, being struck with exceeding
45:4. And he said mildly to them:  Come nearer to me.  And when they were
come near him, he said:  I am Joseph, your brother, whom you sold into
45:5. Be not afraid, and let it not seem to you a hard case that you
sold me into these countries:  for God sent me before you into Egypt for
your preservation.
45:6. For it is two years since the famine began to be upon the land,
and five years more remain, wherein there can be neither ploughing nor
45:7. And God sent me before, that you may be preserved upon the earth,
and may have food to live.
45:8. Not by your counsel was I sent hither, but by the will of God:
who hath made me as it were a father to Pharao, and lord of his whole
house, and governor in all the land of Egypt.
45:9. Make haste, and go ye up to my father, and say to him:  Thus saith
thy son Joseph:  God hath made me lord of the whole land of Egypt; come
down to me, linger not.
45:10. And thou shalt dwell in the land of Gessen:  and thou shalt be
near me, thou and thy sons, and thy sons' sons, thy sheep, and thy
herds, and all things that thou hast.
45:11. And there I will feed thee, (for there are yet five years of
famine remaining) lest both thou perish, and thy house, and all things
that thou hast.
45:12. Behold, your eyes, and the eyes of my brother Benjamin, see that
it is my mouth that speaketh to you.
45:13. You shall tell my father of all my glory, and all things that
you have seen in Egypt:  make haste and bring him to me.
45:14. And falling upon the neck of his brother Benjamin, he embraced
him and wept:  and Benjamin in like manner wept also on his neck.
45:15. And Joseph kissed all his brethren, and wept upon every one of
them:  after which they were emboldened to speak to him.
45:16. And it was heard, and the fame was spread abroad in the king's
court:  The brethren of Joseph are come; and Pharao with all his family
45:17. And he spoke to Joseph that he should give orders to his
brethren, saying:  Load your beasts, and go into the land of Chanaan,
45:18. And bring away from thence your father and kindred, and come to
me; and I will give you all the good things of Egypt, that you may eat
the marrow of the land.
45:19. Give orders also that they take wagons out of the land of Egypt,
for the carriage of their children and their wives; and say:  Take up
your father, and make haste to come with all speed:
45:20. And leave nothing of your household stuff; for all the riches of
Egypt shall be yours.
45:21. And the sons of Israel did as they were bid.  And Joseph gave
them wagons according to Pharao's commandment:  and provisions for the
45:22. He ordered also to be brought out for every one of them two
robes:  but to Benjamin he gave three hundred pieces of silver, with
five robes of the best:
45:23. Sending to his father as much money and raiment; adding besides,
ten he-asses, to carry off all the riches of Egypt, and as many
she-asses, carrying wheat and bread for the journey.
45:24. So he sent away his brethren, and at their departing said to
them:  Be not angry in the way.
45:25. And they went up out of Egypt, and came into the land of
Chanaan, to their father Jacob.
45:26. And they told him, saying:  Joseph, thy son, is living; and he is
ruler in all the land of Egypt.  Which when Jacob heard, he awaked as it
were out of a deep sleep, yet did not believe them.
45:27. They, on the other side, told the whole order of the thing.  And
when he saw the wagons, and all that he had sent, his spirit revived,
45:28. And he said:  It is enough for me if Joseph, my son, be yet
living:  I will go and see him before I die.
Genesis Chapter 46
Israel, warranted by a vision from God, goeth down into Egypt with all
46:1. And Israel taking his journey, with all that he had, came to the
well of the oath, and killing victims there to the God of his father
The well of the oath. . .Bersabee.
46:2. He heard him, by a vision in the night, calling him, and saying
to him:  Jacob, Jacob.  And he answered him:  Lo, here I am.
46:3. God said to him:  I am the most mighty God of thy father; fear
not, go down into Egypt, for I will make a great nation of thee there.
46:4. I will go down with thee thither, and will bring thee back again
from thence:  Joseph also shall put his hands upon thy eyes.
46:5. And Jacob rose up from the well of the oath:  and his sons took
him up, with their children and wives in the wagons, which Pharao had
sent to carry the old man,
46:6. And all that he had in the land of Chanaan:  and he came into
Egypt with all his seed;
46:7. His sons, and grandsons, daughters, and all his offspring
46:8. And these are the names of the children of Israel, that entered
into Egypt, he and his children.  His firstborn Ruben,
46:9. The sons of Ruben:  Henoch and Phallu, and Hesron and Charmi.
46:10. The sons of Simeon:  Jamuel and Jamin and Ahod, and Jachin and
Sohar, and Saul, the son of a woman of Chanaan.
46:11. The sons of Levi:  Gerson and Caath, and Merari.
46:12. The sons of Juda:  Her and Onan, and Sela, and Phares and Zara.
And Her and Onan died in the land of Chanaan.  And sons were born to
Phares:  Hesron and Hamul.
46:13. The sons of Issachar:  Thola and Phua, and Job and Semron.
46:14. The sons of Zabulon:  Sared, and Elon, and Jahelel.
46:15. These are the sons of Lia, whom she bore in Mesopotamia of
Syria, with Dina, his daughter.  All the souls of her sons and
daughters, thirty-three.
46:16. The sons of Gad:  Sephion and Haggi, and Suni and Esebon, and
Heri and Arodi, and Areli.
46:17. The sons of Aser:  Jamne and Jesua, and Jessuri and Beria, and
Sara their sister.  The sons of Beria:  Heber and Melchiel.
46:18. These are the sons of Zelpha, whom Laban gave to Lia, his
daughter.  And these she bore to Jacob, sixteen souls.
46:19. The sons of Rachel, Jacob's wife:  Joseph and Benjamin.
46:20. And sons were born to Joseph, in the land of Egypt, whom
Aseneth, the daughter of Putiphare, priest of Heliopolis, bore him:
Manasses and Ephraim.
46:21. The sons of Benjamin:  Bela and Bechor, and Asbel and Gera, and
Naaman and Echi, and Ross and Mophim, and Ophim and Ared.
46:22. These are the sons of Rachel, whom she bore to Jacob:  all the
souls, fourteen.
46:23. The sons of Dan:  Husim.
46:24. The sons of Nephthali:  Jaziel and Guni, and Jeser and Sallem.
46:25. These are the sons of Bala, whom Laban gave to Rachel, his
daughter:  and these she bore to Jacob:  all the souls, seven.
46:26. All the souls that went with Jacob into Egypt, and that came out
of his thigh, besides his sons' wives, sixty-six.
46:27. And the sons of Joseph, that were born to him in the land of
Egypt, two souls.  All the souls of the house of Jacob, that entered
into Egypt, were seventy.
46:28. And he sent Juda before him to Joseph, to tell him; and that he
should meet him in Gessen.
46:29. And when he was come thither, Joseph made ready his chariot, and
went up to meet his father in the same place:  and seeing him, he fell
upon his neck, and embracing him, wept.
46:30. And the father said to Joseph:  Now shall I die with joy, because
I have seen thy face, and leave thee alive.
46:31. And Joseph said to his brethren, and to all his father's house:
I will go up, and will tell Pharao, and will say to him:  My brethren,
and my father's house, that were in the land of Chanaan, are come to
46:32. And the men are shepherds, and their occupation is to feed
cattle; their flocks, and herds, and all they have, they have brought
46:33. And when he shall call you, and shall say:  What is your
46:34. You shall answer:  We, thy servants, are shepherds, from our
infancy until now, both we and our fathers.  And this you shall say,
that you may dwell in the land of Gessen, because the Egyptians have
all shepherds in abomination.
Genesis Chapter 47
Jacob and his sons are presented before Pharao:  he giveth them the land
of Gessen.  The famine forceth the Egyptians to sell all their
possessions to the king.
47:1. Then Joseph went in and told Pharao, saying:  My father and
brethren, their sheep and their herds, and all that they possess, are
come out of the land of Chanaan:  and behold they stay in the land of
47:2. Five men also, the last of his brethren, he presented before the
The last. . .xtremos.  Some interpret this word of the chiefest, and most
rightly:  but Joseph seems rather to have chosen out such as had the
meanest appearance, that Pharao might not think of employing them at
court, with danger of their morals and religion.
47:3. And he asked them:  What is your occupation?  They answered:  We,
thy servants, are shepherds, both we and our fathers.
47:4. We are come to sojourn in thy land, because there is no grass for
the flocks of thy servants, the famine being very grievous in the land
of Chanaan:  and we pray thee to give orders that we thy servants may be
in the land of Gessen.
47:5. The king therefore said to Joseph:  Thy father and thy brethren
are come to thee.
47:6. The land of Egypt is before thee:  and make them dwell in the best
place, and give them the land of Gessen.  And if thou knowest that there
are industrious men among them, make them rulers over my cattle.
47:7. After this Joseph brought in his father to the king, and
presented him before him:  and he blessed him.
47:8. And being asked by him:  How many are the days of the years of thy
47:9. He answered:  The days of my pilgrimage are a hundred and thirty
years, few, and evil, and they are not come up to the days of the
pilgrimage of my fathers.
47:10. And blessing the king, he went out.
47:11. But Joseph gave a possession to his father and his brethren in
Egypt, in the best place of the land, in Ramesses, as Pharao had
47:12. And he nourished them, and all his father's house, allowing food
to every one.
47:13. For in the whole world there was want of bread, and a famine had
oppressed the land, more especially of Egypt and Chanaan;
47:14. Out of which he gathered up all the money for the corn which
they bought, and brought it in to the king's treasure.
47:15. And when the buyers wanted money, all Egypt came to Joseph,
saying:  Give us bread:  why should we die in thy presence, having now no
47:16. And he answered them:  Bring me your cattle, and for them I will
give you food, if you have no money.
47:17. And when they had brought them, he gave them food in exchange
for their horses, and sheep, and oxen, and asses:  and he maintained
them that year for the exchange of their cattle.
47:18. And they came the second year, and said to him:  We will not hide
from our lord, how that our money is spent, and our cattle also are
gone:  neither art thou ignorant that we have nothing now left but our
bodies and our lands.
47:19. Why therefore shall we die before thy eyes?  we will be thine,
both we and our lands:  buy us to be the king's servants, and give us
seed, lest for want of tillers the land be turned into a wilderness.
47:20. So Joseph bought all the land of Egypt, every man selling his
possessions, because of the greatness of the famine.  And he brought it
into Pharao's hands:
47:21. And all its people from one end of the borders of Egypt, even to
the other end thereof,
47:22. Except the land of the priests, which had been given them by the
king:  to whom also a certain allowance of food was given out of the
public stores, and therefore they were not forced to sell their
possessions.
47:23. Then Joseph said to the people:  Behold, as you see, both you and
your lands belong to Pharao; take seed and sow the fields,
47:24. That you may have corn.  The fifth part you shall give to the
king; the other four you shall have for seed, and for food for your
families and children.
47:25. And they answered:  our life is in thy hand; only let my lord
look favourably upon us, and we will gladly serve the king.
47:26. From that time unto this day, in the whole land of Egypt, the
fifth part is paid to the kings, and it is become as a law, except the
land of the priests, which was free from this covenant.
47:27. So Israel dwelt in Egypt, that is, in the land of Gessen, and
possessed it; and grew, and was multiplied exceedingly.
47:28. And he lived in it seventeen years:  and all the days of his life
came to a hundred and forty-seven years.
47:29. And when he saw that the day of his death drew nigh, he called
his son Joseph, and said to him:  If I have found favour in thy sight,
put thy hand under my thigh; and thou shalt shew me this kindness and
truth, not to bury me in Egypt.
47:30. But I will sleep with my fathers, and thou shalt take me away
out of this land, and bury me in the burying place of my ancestors.  And
Joseph answered him:  I will do what thou hast commanded.
47:31. And he said:  Swear then to me.  And as he was swearing, Israel
adored God, turning to the bed's head.
To the bed's head. . .St. Paul, Heb. 11.21, following the Greek
translation of the Septuagint, reads adored the top of his rod.  Where
note, that the same word in the Hebrew, according to the different
pointing of it, signifies both a bed and a rod.  And to verify both
these sentences, we must understand that Jacob leaning on Joseph's rod
adored, turning towards the head of his bed:  which adoration, inasmuch
as it was referred to God, was an absolute and sovereign worship:  but
inasmuch as it was referred to the rod of Joseph, as a figure of the
sceptre, that is, of the royal dignity of Christ, was only an inferior
and relative honour.
Genesis Chapter 48
Joseph visiteth his father in his sickness, who adopteth his two sons
Manasses and Ephraim, and blesseth them, preferring the younger before
48:1. After these things, it was told Joseph that his father was sick;
and he set out to go to him, taking his two sons Manasses and Ephraim.
48:2. And it was told the old man:  Behold thy son Joseph cometh to
thee.  And being strengthened, he sat on his bed.
48:3. And when Joseph was come in to him, he said:  God almighty
appeared to me at Luza, which is in the land of Chanaan, and he blessed
48:4. And said:  I will cause thee to increase and multiply, and I will
make of thee a multitude of people:  and I will give this land to thee,
and to thy seed after thee for an everlasting possession.
48:5. So thy two sons, who were born to thee in the land of Egypt
before I came hither to thee, shall be mine:  Ephraim and Manasses shall
be reputed to me as Ruben and Simeon.
48:6. But the rest whom thou shalt have after them, shall be thine, and
shall be called by the name of their brethren in their possessions.
48:7. For, when I came out of Mesopotamia, Rachel died from me in the
land of Chanaan in the very journey, and it was spring time:  and I was
going to Ephrata, and I buried her near the way of Ephrata, which by
another name is called Bethlehem.
48:8. Then seeing his sons, he said to him:  Who are these?
48:9. He answered:  They are my sons, whom God hath given me in this
place.  And he said:  Bring them to me, that I may bless them.
48:10. For Israel's eyes were dim by reason of his great age, and he
could not see clearly.  And when they were brought to him, he kissed and
embraced them,
48:11. And said to his son:  I am not deprived of seeing thee; moreover
God hath shewn me thy seed.
48:12. And when Joseph had taken them from his father's lap, he bowed
down with his face to the ground.
48:13. And he set Ephraim on his right hand, that is, towards the left
hand of Israel; but Manasses on his left hand, to wit, towards his
father's right hand, and brought them near to him.
48:14. But he, stretching forth his right hand, put it upon the head of
Ephraim, the younger brother; and the left upon the head of Manasses,
who was the elder, changing his hands.
48:15. And Jacob blessed the sons of Joseph, and said:  God, in whose
sight my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked, God that feedeth me from my
youth until this day:
48:16. The angel that delivereth me from all evils, bless these boys:
and let my name be called upon them, and the names of my fathers
Abraham and Isaac; and may they grow into a multitude upon the earth.
48:17. And Joseph seeing that his father had put his right hand upon
the head of Ephraim, was much displeased:  and taking his father's hand,
he tried to lift it from Ephraim's head, and to remove it to the head
of Manasses.
48:18. And he said to his father:  It should not be so, my father; for
this is the firstborn, put thy right hand upon his head.
48:19. But he refusing, said:  I know, my son, I know:  and this also
shall become a people, and shall be multiplied; but his younger brother
shall be greater than he; and his seed shall grow into nations.
48:20. And he blessed them at that time, saying:  In thee shall Israel
be blessed, and it shall be said:  God do to thee as to Ephraim, and as
to Manasses.  And he set Ephraim before Manasses.
48:21. And he said to Joseph, his son:  Behold I die, and God will be
with you, and will bring you back into the land of your fathers.
48:22. I give thee a portion above thy brethren, which I took out of
the hand of the Amorrhite with my sword and bow.
Genesis Chapter 49
Jacob's prophetical blessings of his twelve sons:  his death.
49:1. And Jacob called his sons, and said to them:  Gather yourselves
together, that I may tell you the things that shall befall you in the
49:2. Gather yourselves together, and hear, O ye sons of Jacob, hearken
to Israel, your father:
49:3. Ruben, my firstborn, thou art my strength, and the beginning of
my sorrow; excelling in gifts, greater in command.
My strength, etc. . .He calls him his strength, as being born whilst his
father was in his full strength and vigour:  he calls him the beginning
of his sorrow, because cares and sorrows usually come on with the birth
of children.  Excelling in gifts, etc., because the firstborn had a
title to a double portion, and to have the command over his brethren,
which Ruben forfeited by his sin; being poured out as water, that is,
spilt and lost.
49:4. Thou art poured out as water, grow thou not; because thou wentest
up to thy father's bed, and didst defile his couch.
Grow thou not. . .This was not meant by way of a curse or imprecation;
but by way of a prophecy foretelling that the tribe of Ruben should not
inherit the pre-eminences usually annexed to the first birthright,
viz., the double portion, the being prince or lord over the other
brethren, and the priesthood:  of which the double portion was given to
Joseph, the princely office to Juda, and the priesthood to Levi.
49:5. Simeon and Levi brethren:  vessels of iniquity waging war.
49:6. Let not my soul go into their counsel, nor my glory be in their
assembly:  because in their fury they slew a man, and in their self-will
they undermined a wall.
Slew a man,. . .viz., Sichem the son of Hemor, with all his people, Gen.
34.; mystically and prophetically it alludes to Christ, whom their
posterity, viz., the priests and the scribes, put to death.
49:7. Cursed be their fury, because it was stubborn:  and their wrath,
because it was cruel:  I will divide them in Jacob, and will scatter
them in Israel.
49:8. Juda, thee shall thy brethren praise:  thy hand shall be on the
necks of thy enemies; the sons of thy father shall bow down to thee.
49:9. Juda is a lion's whelp:  to the prey, my son, thou art gone up:
resting thou hast couched as a lion, and as a lioness, who shall rouse
A lion's whelp, etc. . .This blessing of Juda foretelleth the strength
of his tribe, the fertility of his inheritance; and principally that
the sceptre and legislative power should not be utterly taken away from
his race till about the time of the coming of Christ:  as in effect it
never was:  which is a demonstration against the modern Jews, that the
Messiah is long since come; for the sceptre has long since been utterly
taken away from Juda.
49:10. The sceptre shall not be taken away from Juda, nor a ruler from
his thigh, till he come that is to be sent, and he shall be the
expectation of nations.
49:11. Tying his foal to the vineyard, and his ass, O my son, to the
vine.  He shall wash his robe in wine, and his garment in the blood of
49:12. His eyes are more beautiful than wine, and his teeth whiter than
49:13. Zabulon shall dwell on the seashore, and in the road of ships,
reaching as far as Sidon.
49:14. Issachar shall be a strong ass, lying down between the borders.
49:15. He saw rest that it was good:  and the land that it was
excellent:  and he bowed his shoulder to carry, and became a servant
under tribute.
49:16. Dan shall judge his people like another tribe in Israel.
Dan shall judge, etc. . .This was verified in Samson, who was of the
tribe of Dan, and began to deliver Israel.  Judges 13.5.  But as this
deliverance was but temporal and very imperfect, the holy patriarch
(ver. 18) aspires after another kind of deliverer, saying:  I will look
for thy salvation, O Lord.
49:17. Let Dan be a snake in the way, a serpent in the path, that
biteth the horse's heels, that his rider may fall backward.
49:18. I will look for thy salvation, O Lord.
49:19. Gad, being girded, shall fight before him:  and he himself shall
be girded backward.
Gad being girded, etc. . .It seems to allude to the tribe of Gad; when
after they had received for their lot the land of Galaad, they marched
in arms before the rest of the Israelites, to the conquest of the land
of Chanaan:  from whence they afterwards returned loaded with spoils.
See Jos. 4. and 12.
49:20. Aser, his bread shall be fat, and he shall yield dainties to
49:21. Nephthali, a hart let loose, and giving words of beauty.
49:22. Joseph is a growing son, a growing son and comely to behold:  the
daughters run to and fro upon the wall;
Run to and fro, etc. . .To behold his beauty; whilst his envious
brethren turned their darts against him, etc.
49:23. But they that held darts, provoked him, and quarrelled with him,
and envied him.
49:24. His bow rested upon the strong, and the bands of his arms and
his hands were loosed, by the hands of the mighty one of Jacob:  thence
he came forth a pastor, the stone of Israel.
His bow rested upon the strong, etc. . .That is, upon God, who was his
strength:  who also loosed his bands, and brought him out of prison to
be the pastor, that is, the feeder and ruler of Egypt, and the stone,
that is, the rock and support of Israel.
49:25. The God of thy father shall be thy helper, and the Almighty
shall bless thee with the blessings of heaven above, with the blessings
of the deep that lieth beneath, with the blessings of the breasts and
of the womb.
49:26. The blessings of thy father are strengthened with the blessings
of his fathers:  until the desire of the everlasting hills should come:
may they be upon the head of Joseph, and upon the crown of the Nazarite
among his brethren.
The blessings of thy father, etc. . .That is, thy father's blessings are
made more prevalent and effectual in thy regard, by the additional
strength they receive from his inheriting the blessings of his
progenitors Abraham and Isaac.  The desire of the everlasting hills,
etc. . .These blessings all looked forward towards Christ, called the
desire of the everlasting hills, as being longed for, as it were, by
the whole creation.  Mystically, the patriarchs and prophets are called
the everlasting hills, by reason of the eminence of their wisdom and
holiness.  The Nazarite. . .This word signifies one separated; and agrees
to Joseph, as being separated from, and more eminent than, his
brethren.  As the ancient Nazarites were so called from their being set
aside for God, and vowed to him.
49:27. Benjamin a ravenous wolf, in the morning shall eat the prey, and
in the evening shall divide the spoil.
49:28. All these are the twelve tribes of Israel:  these things their
father spoke to them, and he blessed every one with their proper
49:29. And he charged them, saying:  I am now going to be gathered to my
people:  bury me with my fathers in the double cave, which is in the
field of Ephron the Hethite,
To be gathered to my people. . .That is, I am going to die, and so to
follow my ancestors that are gone before me, and to join their company
in another world.
49:30. Over against Mambre, in the land of Chanaan, which Abraham
bought together with the field, of Ephron the Hethite, for a possession
49:31. There they buried him, and Sara his wife:  there was Isaac buried
with Rebecca, his wife:  there also Lia doth lie buried.
49:32. And when he had ended the commandments, wherewith he instructed
his sons, he drew up his feet upon the bed, and died:  and he was
gathered to his people.
Genesis Chapter 50
The mourning for Jacob, and his interment.  Joseph's kindness towards
his brethren.  His death.
50:1. And when Joseph saw this, he fell upon his father's face, weeping
and kissing him.
50:2. And he commanded his servants, the physicians, to embalm his
50:3. And while they were fulfilling his commands, there passed forty
days:  for this was the manner with bodies that were embalmed, and Egypt
mourned for him seventy days.
50:4. And the time of the mourning being expired, Joseph spoke to the
family of Pharao:  If I have found favour in your sight, speak in the
ears of Pharao:
50:5. For my father made me swear to him, saying:  Behold I die; thou
shalt bury me in my sepulchre which I have digged for myself in the
land of Chanaan.  So I will go up and bury my father, and return.
50:6. And Pharao said to him:  Go up and bury thy father according as he
made thee swear.
50:7. So he went up, and there went with him all the ancients of
Pharao's house, and all the elders of the land of Egypt.
50:8. And the house of Joseph with his brethren, except their children,
and their flocks and herds, which they left in the land of Gessen.
50:9. He had also in his train chariots and horsemen:  and it was a
great company.
50:10. And they came to the threshing floor of Atad, which is situated
beyond the Jordan:  where celebrating the exequies with a great and
vehement lamentation, they spent full seven days.
50:11. And when the inhabitants of Chanaan saw this, they said:  This is
a great mourning to the Egyptians.  And therefore the name of that place
was called, The mourning of Egypt.
50:12. So the sons of Jacob did as he had commanded them.
50:13. And carrying him into the land of Chanaan, they buried him in
the double cave, which Abraham had bought together with the field for a
possession of a burying place, of Ehpron, the Hethite, over against
50:14. And Joseph returned into Egypt with his brethren, and all that
were in his company, after he had buried his father.
50:15. Now he being dead, his brethren were afraid, and talked one with
another:  Lest perhaps he should remember the wrong he suffered, and
requite us all the evil that we did to him.
50:16. And they sent a message to him, saying:  Thy father commanded us
before he died,
50:17. That we should say thus much to thee from him:  I beseech thee to
forget the wickedness of thy brethren, and the sin and malice they
practised against thee:  we also pray thee, to forgive the servants of
the God of thy father this wickedness.  And when Joseph heard this, he
50:18. And his brethren came to him; and worshipping prostrate on the
ground, they said:  We are thy servants.
50:19. And he answered them:  Fear not:  can we resist the will of God?
50:20. You thought evil against me:  but God turned it into good, that
he might exalt me, as at present you see, and might save many people.
50:21. Fear not:  I will feed you and your children.  And he comforted
them, and spoke gently and mildly.
50:22. And he dwelt in Egypt with all his father's house; and lived a
hundred and ten years.  And he saw the children of Ephraim to the third
generation.  The children also of Machir, the sons of Manasses, were
born on Joseph's knees.
50:23. After which he told his brethren:  God will visit you after my
death, and will make you go up out of this land, to the land which he
swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
50:24. And he made them swear to him, saying:  God will visit you, carry
my bones with you out of this place:
50:25. And he died, being a hundred and ten years old.  And being
embalmed, he was laid in a coffin in Egypt.
THE BOOK OF EXODUS
The Second Book of Moses is called EXODUS, from the Greek word EXODOS,
which signifies going out:  because it contains the history of the going
out of the children of Israel out of Egypt.  The Hebrews, from the words
with which it begins, call it VEELLE SEMOTH:  These are the names.  It
contains transactions for 145 years; that is, from the death of Joseph
to the erecting of the tabernacle.
Exodus Chapter 1
The Israelites are multiplied in Egypt.  They are oppressed by a new
king, who commandeth all their male children to be killed.
1:1. These are the names of the children of Israel, that went into
Egypt with Jacob:  they went in every man with his household:
1:2. Ruben, Simeon, Levi, Juda,
1:3. Issachar, Zabulon, and Benjamin,
1:4. Dan, and Nephthali, Gad and Aser.
1:5. And all the souls that came out of Jacob's thigh, were seventy:
but Joseph was in Egypt.
1:6. After he was dead, and all his brethren, and all that generation,
1:7. The children of Israel increased, and sprung up into multitudes,
and growing exceedingly strong they filled the land.
1:8. In the mean time there arose a new king over Egypt, that knew not
1:9. And he said to his people:  Behold the people of the children of
Israel are numerous and stronger than we.
1:10. Come let us wisely oppress them, lest they multiply:  and if any
war shall rise against us, join with our enemies, and having overcome
us, depart out of the land.
1:11. Therefore he set over them masters of the works, to afflict them
with burdens:  and they built for Pharao cities of tabernacles, Phithom,
and Ramesses.
Of tabernacles. . .Or, of storehouses.
1:12. But the more they oppressed them, the more they were multiplied
and increased.
1:13. And the Egyptians hated the children of Israel, and afflicted
them and mocked them:
1:14. And they made their life bitter with hard works in clay and
brick, and with all manner of service, wherewith they were overcharged
in the works of the earth.
1:15. And the king of Egypt spoke to the midwives of the Hebrews:  of
whom one was called Sephora, the other Phua,
1:16. Commanding them:  When you shall do the office of midwives to the
Hebrew women, and the time of delivery is come:  if it be a man child,
kill it:  if a woman, keep it alive.
1:17. But the midwives feared God, and did not do as the king of Egypt
had commanded, but saved the men children.
1:18:  And the king called for them and said:  What is it that you meant
to do, that you would save the men children?
1:19. They answered:  The Hebrew women are not as the Egyptian women:
for they themselves are skilful in the office of a midwife; and they
are delivered before we come to them.
1:20. Therefore God dealt well with the midwives:  and the people
multiplied and grew exceedingly strong.
1:21. And because the midwives feared God, he built them houses.
Because the midwives feared God, etc. . .The midwives were rewarded, not
for their lie, which was a venial sin; but for their fear of God, and
their humanity:  but this reward was only temporal, in building them
houses, that is, in establishing and enriching their families.
1:22. Pharao therefore charged all his people, saying:  Whatsoever shall
be born of the male sex, ye shall cast into the river:  whatsoever of
the female, ye shall save alive.
Exodus Chapter 2
Moses is born and exposed on the bank of the river; where he is taken
up by the daughter of Pharao, and adopted for her son.  He killeth an
Egyptian, and fleeth into Madian; where he marrieth a wife.
2:1. After this there went a man of the house of Levi; and took a wife
of his own kindred.
2:2. And she conceived, and bore a son:  and seeing him a goodly child,
hid him three months.
2:3. And when she could hide him no longer, she took a basket made of
bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and pitch:  and put the little babe
therein, and laid him in the sedges by the river's brink,
2:4. His sister standing afar off, and taking notice what would be
2:5. And behold the daughter of Pharao came down to wash herself in the
river:  and her maids walked by the river's brink.  And when she saw the
basket in the sedges she sent one of her maids for it:  and when it was
2:6. She opened it, and seeing within it an infant crying, having
compassion on it, she said:  This is one of the babes of the Hebrews.
2:7. And the child's sister said to her:  Shall I go, and call to thee a
Hebrew woman, to nurse the babe?
2:8. She answered:  Go.  The maid went and called her mother.
2:9. And Pharao's daughter said to her:  Take this child, and nurse him
for me:  I will give thee thy wages.  The woman took and nursed the
child:  and when he was grown up, she delivered him to Pharao's
2:10. And she adopted him for a son, and called him Moses, saying:
Because I took him out of the water.
Moses. . .Or Moyses, in the Egyptian tongue, signifies one taken or
saved out of the water.
2:11. In those days, after Moses was grown up, he went out to his
brethren:  and saw their affliction, and an Egyptian striking one of the
Hebrews, his brethren.
2:12. And when he had looked about this way and that way, and saw no
one there, he slew the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.
He slew the Egyptian. . .This he did by a particular inspiration of God;
as a prelude to his delivering the people from their oppression and
bondage.  He thought, says St. Stephen, Acts 7.25, that his brethren
understood that God by his hand would save them.  But such particular
and extraordinary examples are not to be imitated.
2:13. And going out the next day, he saw two Hebrews quarrelling:  and
he said to him that did the wrong:  Why strikest thou thy neighbour?
2:14. But he answered:  Who hath appointed thee prince and judge over
us?  wilt thou kill me, as thou didst yesterday kill the Egyptian?  Moses
feared, and said:  How is this come to be known?
2:15. And Pharao heard of this word, and sought to kill Moses:  but he
fled from his sight, and abode in the land of Madian, and he sat down
Madian. . .A city and country of Arabia, which took its name from Madian
the son of Abraham, by Cetura, and was peopled by his posterity.
2:16. And the priest of Madian had seven daughters, who came to draw
water:  and when the troughs were filled, desired to water their
father's flocks.
2:17. And the shepherds came and drove them away:  and Moses arose, and
defending the maids, watered their sheep.
2:18:  And when they returned to Raguel their father, he said to them:
Why are ye come sooner than usual?
Raguel. . .He had two names, being also called Jethro, as appears from
the first verse of the following chapter.
2:19. They answered:  A man of Egypt delivered us from the hands of the
shepherds:  and he drew water also with us, and gave the sheep to drink.
2:20. But he said:  Where is he?  why have you let the man go?  call him
that he may eat bread.
2:21. And Moses swore that he would dwell with him.  And he took Sephora
his daughter to wife:
2:22. And she bore him a son, whom he called Gersam, saying:  I have
been a stranger in a foreign country.  And she bore another, whom he
called Eliezer, saying:  For the God of my father, my helper, hath
delivered me out of the hand of Pharao.
Gersam. . .Or Gershom.  This name signifies a stranger there:  as Eliezer
signifies the help of God.
2:23. Now after a long time the king of Egypt died:  and the children of
Israel groaning, cried out because of the works:  and their cry went up
unto God from the works.
2:24. And he heard their groaning, and remembered the covenant which he
made with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
2:25. And the Lord looked upon the children of Israel, and he knew
Knew them. . .That is, he had respect to them, he cast a merciful eye
Exodus Chapter 3
God appeareth to Moses in a bush, and sendeth him to deliver Israel.
3:1. Now Moses fed the sheep of Jethro, his father in law, the priest
of Madian:  and he drove the flock to the inner parts of the desert, and
came to the mountain of God, Horeb.
3:2. And the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst
of a bush:  and he saw that the bush was on fire, and was not burnt.
The Lord appeared. . .That is, an angel representing God, and speaking
in his name.
3:3. And Moses said:  I will go, and see this great sight, why the bush
is not burnt.
3:4. And when the Lord saw that he went forward to see, he called to
him out of the midst of the bush.  and said:  Moses, Moses.  And he
answered:  Here I am.
3:5. And he said:  Come not nigh hither, put off the shoes from thy
feet; for the place, whereon thou standest, is holy ground.
3:6. And he said:  I am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham, the
God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.  Moses hid his face:  for he durst
not look at God.
3:7. And the Lord said to him:  I have seen the affliction of my people
in Egypt, and I have heard their cry because of the rigour of them that
are over the works;
3:8. And knowing their sorrow, I am come down to deliver them out of
the hands of the Egyptians, and to bring them out of that land into a
good and spacious land, into a land that floweth with milk and honey,
to the places of the Chanaanite, and Hethite, and Amorrhite, and
Pherezite, and Hevite, and Jebusite.
3:9. For the cry of the children of Israel is come unto me:  and I have
seen their affliction, wherewith they are oppressed by the Egyptians.
3:10. But come, and I will send thee to Pharao, that thou mayst bring
forth my people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt.
3:11. And Moses said to God:  Who am I that I should go to Pharao, and
should bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt?
3:12. And he said to him:  I will be with thee; and this thou shalt have
for a sign that I have sent thee:  When thou shalt have brought my
people out of Egypt, thou shalt offer sacrifice to God upon this
3:13. Moses said to God:  Lo, I shall go to the children of Israel, and
say to them:  The God of your fathers hath sent me to you.  If they shall
say to me:  What is his name?  What shall I say to them?
3:14. God said to Moses:  I AM WHO AM.  He said:  Thus shalt thou say to
the children of Israel:  HE WHO IS, hath sent me to you.
I am who am. . .That is, I am being itself, eternal, self-existent,
independent, infinite; without beginning, end, or change; and the
source of all other beings.
3:15. And God said again to Moses:  Thus shalt thou say to the children
of Israel:  The Lord God of your fathers the God of Abraham, the God of
Isaac, and the God of Jacob hath sent me to you; this is my name for
ever, and this is my memorial unto all generations.
3:16. Go and gather together the ancients of Israel, and thou shalt say
to them:  The Lord God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of
Isaac, and the God of Jacob, hath appeared to me, saying:  Visiting I
have visited you; and I have seen all that hath befallen you in Egypt.
3:17. And I have said the word to bring you forth out of the affliction
of Egypt, into the land of the Chanaanite, and Hethite, and Amorrhite,
and Pherezite, and Hevite, and Jebusite, to a land that floweth with
milk and honey.
3:18:  And they shall hear thy voice; and thou shalt go in, thou and the
ancients of Israel, to the king of Egypt, and thou shalt say to him:
The Lord God of the Hebrews hath called us; we will go three days'
journey into the wilderness, to sacrifice unto the Lord our God.
3:19. But I know that the king of Egypt will not let you go, but by a
mighty hand.
3:20. For I will stretch forth my hand, and will strike Egypt with all
my wonders which I will do in the midst of them:  after these he will
3:21. And I will give favour to this people, in the sight of the
Egyptians:  and when you go forth, you shall not depart empty:
3:22. But every woman shall ask of her neighbour, and of her that is in
her house, vessels of silver and of gold, and raiment:  and you shall
put them on your sons and daughters, and shall spoil Egypt.
Shall spoil, etc. . .That is, you shall strip, and take away the goods
of the Egyptians.  This was not authorizing theft or injustice; but was
a just disposal made by Him, who is the great lord and master of all
things, in order to pay the children of Israel some part of what was
due to them from the Egyptians for their labours.
Exodus Chapter 4
Moses is empowered to confirm his mission with miracles:  his brother
Aaron is appointed to assist him.
4:1. Moses answered, and said:  They will not believe me, nor hear my
voice, but they will say:  The Lord hath not appeared to thee.
4:2. Then he said to him:  What is that thou holdest in thy hand?  He
answered:  A rod.
4:3. And the Lord said:  Cast it down upon the ground.  He cast it down,
and it was turned into a serpent, so that Moses fled from it.
4:4. And the Lord said:  Put out thy hand, and take it by the tail.  He
put forth his hand, and took hold of it, and it was turned into a rod.
4:5. That they may believe, saith he, that the Lord God of their
fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob,
hath appeared to thee.
4:6. And the Lord said again:  Put thy hand into thy bosom.  And when he
had put it into his bosom, he brought it forth leprous as snow.
4:7. And he said:  Put back thy hand into thy bosom.  He put it back, and
brought it out again, and it was like the other flesh.
4:8. If they will not believe thee, saith he, nor hear the voice of the
former sign, they will believe the word of the latter sign.
4:9. But if they will not even believe these two signs, nor hear thy
voice:  take of the river water, and pour it out upon the dry land, and
whatsoever thou drawest out of the river, shall be turned into blood.
4:10. Moses said:  I beseech thee, Lord, I am not eloquent from
yesterday and the day before; and since thou hast spoken to thy
servant, I have more impediment and slowness of tongue.
4:11. The Lord said to him:  Who made man's mouth?  or who made the dumb
and the deaf, the seeing and the blind?  did not I?
4:12. Go therefore, and I will be in thy mouth; and I will teach thee
what thou shalt speak.
4:13. But he said:  I beseech thee, Lord, send whom thou wilt send.
4:14. The Lord being angry at Moses, said:  Aaron the Levite is thy
brother, I know that he is eloquent:  behold he cometh forth to meet
thee, and seeing thee, shall be glad at heart.
4:15. Speak to him, and put my words in his mouth:  and I will be in thy
mouth, and in his month, and will shew you what you must do.
4:16. He shall speak in thy stead to the people, and shall be thy
mouth:  but thou shalt be to him in those things that pertain to God.
4:17. And take this rod in thy hand.  wherewith thou shalt do the signs.
4:18:  Moses went his way, and returned to Jethro his father in law, and
said to him; I will go and return to my brethren into Egypt, that I may
see if they be yet alive.  And Jethro said to him:  Go in peace.
4:19. And the Lord said to Moses, in Madian:  Go, and return into Egypt;
for they are all dead that sought thy life.
4:20. Moses therefore took his wife, and his sons, and set them upon an
ass; and returned into Egypt, carrying the rod of God in his hand.
4:21. And the Lord said to him as he was returning into Egypt:  See that
thou do all the wonders before Pharao, which I have put in thy hand:  I
shall harden his heart, and he will not let the people go.
I shall harden, etc. . .Not by being the efficient cause of his sin; but
by withdrawing from him, for his just punishment, the dew of grace that
might have softened his heart; and so suffering him to grow harder and
4:22. And thou shalt say to him:  Thus saith the Lord:  Israel is my son,
my firstborn.
4:23. I have said to thee:  Let my son go, that he may serve me, and
thou wouldst not let him go:  behold I will kill thy son, thy firstborn.
4:24. And when he was in his journey, in the inn, the Lord met him, and
would have killed him.
The Lord met him, and would have killed him. . .This was an angel
representing the Lord, who treated Moses in this manner, for having
neglected the circumcision of his younger son; which his wife
understanding, circumcised her child upon the spot, upon which the
angel let Moses go.
4:25. Immediately Sephora took a very sharp stone, and circumcised the
foreskin of her son, and touched his feet, and said:  A bloody spouse
art thou to me.
4:26. And he let him go after she had said:  A bloody spouse art thou to
me, because of the circumcision.
4:27. And the Lord said to Aaron:  Go into the desert to meet Moses.  And
he went forth to meet him in the mountain of God, and kissed him.
4:28. And Moses told Aaron all the words of the Lord, by which he had
sent him, and the signs that he had commanded.
4:29. And they came together, and they assembled all the ancients of
the children of Israel.
4:30. And Aaron spoke all the words which the Lord had said to Moses:
and he wrought the signs before the people.
4:31. And the people believed.  And they heard that the Lord had visited
the children of Israel, and that he had looked upon their affliction:
and falling down they adored.
Exodus Chapter 5
Pharao refuseth to let the people go.  They are more oppressed.
5:1. After these things, Moses and Aaron went in, and said to Pharao:
Thus saith the Lord God of Israel:  Let my people go, that they may
sacrifice to me in the desert.
5:2. But he answered:  Who is the Lord, that I should hear his voice,
and let Israel go?  I know not the Lord, neither will I let Israel go.
5:3. And they said:  The God of the Hebrews hath called us, to go three
days' journey into the wilderness, and to sacrifice to the Lord our
God; lest a pestilence or the sword fall upon us.
5:4. The king of Egypt said to them:  Why do you Moses and Aaron draw
off the people from their works?  Get you gone to your burdens.
5:5. And Pharao said:  The people of the land are numerous; you see that
the multitude is increased; how much more if you give them rest from
their works?
5:6. Therefore he commanded the same day the overseers of the works,
and the task-masters of the people, saying:
5:7. You shall give straw no more to the people to make brick, as
before; but let them go and gather straw.
5:8. And you shall lay upon them the task of bricks, which they did
before; neither shall you diminish any thing thereof, for they are
idle, and therefore they cry.  saying:  Let us go and sacrifice to our
5:9. Let them be oppressed with works, and let them fulfil them; that
they may not regard lying words.
5:10. And the overseers of the works, and the taskmasters, went out and
said to the people:  Thus saith Pharao:  I allow you no straw;
5:11. Go, and gather it where you can find it; neither shall any thing
of your work be diminished.
5:12. And the people was scattered through all the land of Egypt to
gather straw.
5:13. And the overseers of the works pressed them, saying:  Fulfil your
work every day, as before ye were wont to do, when straw was given you.
5:14. And they that were over the works of the children of Israel, were
scourged by Pharao's taskmasters, saying:  Why have you not made up the
task of bricks, both yesterday and to day, as before?
5:15. And the officers of the children of Israel came, and cried out to
Pharao, saying:  Why dealest thou so with thy servants?
5:16. Straw is not given us, and bricks are required of us as before;
behold we, thy servants, are beaten with whips, and thy people is
unjustly dealt withal.
5:17. And he said:  You are idle, and therefore you say:  Let us go and
sacrifice to the Lord.
5:18:  Go therefore and work:  straw shall not be given you, and you
shall deliver the accustomed number of bricks.
5:19. And the officers of the children of Israel saw that they were in
evil case, because it was said to them:  There shall not a whit be
diminished of the bricks for every day.
5:20. And they met Moses and Aaron, who stood over against them as they
came out from Pharao:
5:21. And they said to them:  The Lord see and judge, because you have,
made our savour to stink before Pharao and his servants, and you have
given him a sword, to kill us.
5:22. And Moses returned to the Lord, and said:  Lord, why hast thou
afflicted this people?  wherefore hast thou sent me?
5:23. For since the time that I went in to Pharao to speak in thy name,
he hath afflicted thy people:  and thou hast not delivered them.
Exodus Chapter 6
God reneweth his promise.  The genealogies of Ruben, Simon and Levi,
down to Moses and Aaron.
6;1. And the Lord said to Moses:  Now thou shalt see what I will do to
Pharao:  for by a mighty hand shall he let them go, and with a strong
hand shall he cast them out of his land.
6:2. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:  I am the Lord
6:3. That appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, by the name of
God Almighty:  and my name ADONAI I did not shew them.
My name Adonai. . .The name, which is in the Hebrew text, is that most
proper name of God, which signifieth his eternal, self-existent being,
Ex. 3.14, which the Jews out of reverence never pronounce; but, instead
of it, whenever it occurs in the Bible, they read Adonai, which
signifies the Lord; and, therefore, they put the points or vowels,
which belong to the name Adonai, to the four letters of that other
ineffable name Jod, He, Vau, He.  Hence some moderns have framed the
name Jehovah, unknown to all the ancients, whether Jews or Christians;
for the true pronunciation of the name, which is in the Hebrew text, by
long disuse, is now quite lost.
6:4. And I made a covenant with them, to give them the land of Chanaan,
the land of their pilgrimage wherein they were strangers.
6:5. I have heard the groaning of the children of Israel, wherewith the
Egyptians have oppressed them:  and I have remembered my covenant.
6:6. Therefore say to the children of Israel:  I am the Lord who will
bring you out from the work-prison of the Egyptians, and will deliver
you from bondage:  and redeem you with a high arm, and great judgments.
6:7. And I will take you to myself for my people, I will be your God:
and you shall know that I am the Lord your God, who brought you out
from the work-prison of the Egyptians:
6:8. And brought you into the land, concerning which I lifted up my
hand to give it to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob:  and I will give it you to
possess:  I am the Lord.
6:9. And Moses told all this to the children of Israel:  but they did
not hearken to him, for anguish of spirit, and most painful work.
6:10. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
6:11. Go in, and speak to Pharao king of Egypt, that he let the
children of Israel go out of his land.
6:12. Moses answered before the Lord:  Behold the children of Israel do
not hearken to me:  and how will Pharao hear me, especially as I am of
uncircumcised lips?
Uncircumcised lips. . .So he calls the defect he had in his words, or
6:13. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, and he gave them a charge
unto the children of Israel, and unto Pharao the king of Egypt, that
they should bring forth the children of Israel out of the land of
6:14. These are the heads of their houses by their families.  The sons
of Ruben the firstborn of Israel:  Henoch and Phallu, Hesron and Charmi.
6:15. These are the kindreds of Ruben.  The sons of Simeon, Jamuel and
Jamin, and Ahod, and Jachin, and Soar, and Saul the son of a
Chanaanitess:  these are the families of Simeon.
6:16. And these are the names of the sons of Levi by their kindreds:
Gerson, and Caath, and Merari.  And the years of the life of Levi were a
hundred and thirty-seven.
6:17. The sons of Gerson:  Lobni and Semei, by their kindreds.
6:18:  The sons of Caath:  Amram, and Isaar, and Hebron and Oziel.  And
the years of Caath's life, were a hundred and thirty-three.
6:19. The sons of Merari:  Moholi and Musi.  These are the kindreds of
Levi by their families.
6:20. And Amram took to wife Jochabed his aunt by the father's side:
and she bore him Aaron and Moses.  And the years of Amram's life, were a
hundred and thirty-seven.
6:21. The sons also of Isaar:  Core, and Nepheg, and Zechri.
6:22. The sons also of Oziel:  Mizael, and Elizaphan, and Sethri.
6:23. And Aaron took to wife Elizabeth the daughter of Aminadab, sister
of Nahason, who bore him Nadab, and Abiu, and Eleazar, and Ithamar.
6:24. The sons also of Core:  Aser, and Elcana, and Abiasaph.  These are
the kindreds of the Corites.
6:25. But Eleazar the son of Aaron took a wife of the daughters of
Phutiel:  and she bore him Phinees.  These are the heads of the Levitical
families by their kindreds.
6:26. These are Aaron and Moses, whom the Lord commanded to bring forth
the children of Israel out of the land of Egypt by their companies.
6:27. These are they that speak to Pharao, king of Egypt, in order to
bring out the children of Israel from Egypt:  these are that Moses and
6:28. In the day when the Lord spoke to Moses in the land of Egypt.
6:29. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:  I am the Lord; speak thou to
Pharao, king of Egypt, all that I say to thee.
6:30. And Moses said before the Lord:  Lo I am of uncircumcised lips,
how will Pharao hear me?
Exodus Chapter 7
Moses and Aaron go into Pharao:  they turn the rod into a serpent; and
the waters of Egypt into blood, which was the first plague.  The
magicians do the like, and Pharao's heart is hardened.
7:1. And the Lord said to Moses:  Behold, I have appointed thee the god
of Pharao; and Aaron, thy brother, shall be thy prophet.
The god of Pharao. . .Viz., to be his judge; and to exercise a divine
power, as God's instrument, over him and his people.
7:2. Thou shalt speak to him all that I command thee; and he shall
speak to Pharao, that he let the children of Israel go out of his land.
7:3. But I shall harden his heart, and shall multiply my signs and
wonders in the land of Egypt.
I shall harden, etc. . .not by being the efficient cause of his hardness
of heart, but by permitting it; and by withdrawing grace from him, in
punishment of his malice; which alone was the proper cause of his being
7:4. And he will not hear you:  and I will lay my hand upon Egypt, and
will bring forth my army and my people, the children of Israel, out of
the land of Egypt, by very great judgments.
7:5. And the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord, who have
stretched forth my hand upon Egypt, and have brought forth the children
of Israel out of the midst of them.
7:6. And Moses and Aaron did as the Lord had commanded; so did they.
7:7. And Moses was eighty years old, and Aaron eighty-three, when they
spoke to Pharao.
7:8. And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron:
7:9. When Pharao shall say to you, Shew signs; thou shalt say to Aaron:
Take thy rod, and cast it down before Pharao, and it shall be turned
into a serpent.
7:10. So Moses and Aaron went in unto Pharao, and did as the Lord had
commanded.  And Aaron took the rod before Pharao and his servants, and
it was turned into a serpent.
7:11. And Pharao called the wise men and the magicians; and they also
by Egyptian enchantments and certain secrets, did in like manner.
Magicians. . .Jannes, and Mambres, or Jambres, 2 Tim. 3.8.
7:12. And they every one cast down their rods, and they were turned
into serpents:  but Aaron's rod devoured their rods.
7:13. And Pharao's heart was hardened, and he did not hearken to them,
as the Lord had commanded.
7:14. And the Lord said to Moses:  Pharao's heart is hardened, he will
not let the people go.
7:15. Go to him in the morning, behold he will go out to the waters:
and thou shalt stand to meet him on the ' bank of the river:  and thou
shalt take in thy hand the rod that was turned into a serpent.
7:16. And thou shalt say to him:  The Lord God of the Hebrews sent me to
thee, saying:  Let my people go to sacrifice to me in the desert:  and
hitherto thou wouldst not hear.
7:17. Thus therefore saith the Lord:  In this thou shalt know that I am
the Lord:  behold I will strike with the rod, that is in my hand, the
water of the river, and it shall be turned into blood.
7:18:  And the fishes that are in the river, shall die, and the waters
shall be corrupted, and the Egyptians shall be afflicted when they
drink the water of the river.
7:19. The Lord also said to Moses:  Say to Aaron, Take thy rod; and
stretch forth thy hand upon the waters of Egypt, and upon their rivers,
and streams and pools, and all the ponds of waters, that they may be
turned into blood:  and let blood be in all the land of Egypt, both in
vessels of wood and of stone.
7:20. And Moses and Aaron did as the Lord had commanded:  and lifting up
the rod, he struck the water of the river before Pharao and his
servants:  and it was turned into blood.
7:21. And the fishes that were in the river died; and the river
corrupted, and the Egyptians could not drink the water of the river,
and there was blood in all the land of Egypt.
7:22. And the magicians of the Egyptians with their enchantments did in
like manner; and Pharao's heart was hardened, neither did he hear them,
as the Lord had commanded.
7:23. And he turned himself away, and went into his house, neither did
he set his heart to it this time also.
7:24. And all the Egyptians dug round about the river for water to
drink; for they could not drink of the water of the river.
7:25. And seven days were fully ended, after that the Lord struck the
Exodus Chapter 8
The second plague is of frogs:  Pharao promiseth to let the Israelites
go, but breaketh his promise.  The third plague is of sciniphs.  The
fourth is of flies.  Pharao again promiseth to dismiss the people, but
doth it not.
8:1. And the Lord said to Moses:  Go in to Pharao, and thou shalt say to
him:  Thus saith the Lord:  Let my people go to sacrifice to me.
8:2. But if thou wilt not let them go, behold I will strike all thy
coasts with frogs.
8:3. And the river shall bring forth an abundance of frogs; which shall
come up and enter into thy house, and thy bedchamber, and upon thy bed,
and into the houses of thy servants, and to thy people, and into thy
ovens, and into the remains of thy meats:
8:4. And the frogs shall come in to thee, and to thy people, and to all
thy servants.
8:5. And the Lord said to Moses:  Say to Aaron:  Stretch forth thy hand
upon the streams, and upon the rivers and the pools, and bring forth
frogs upon the land of Egypt.
8:6. And Aaron stretched forth his hand upon the waters of Egypt, and
the frogs came up, and covered the land of Egypt.
8:7. And the magicians also, by their enchantments, did in like manner,
and they brought forth frogs upon the land of Egypt.
8:8. But Pharao called Moses and Aaron, and said to them:  Pray ye to
the Lord to take away the frogs from me and from my people; and I will
let the people go to sacrifice to the Lord.
Pray ye to the Lord, etc. . .By this it appears, that though the
magicians, by the help of the devil, could bring frogs, yet they could
not take them away:  God being pleased to abridge in this the power of
Satan.  So we see they could not afterwards produce the lesser insects;
and in this restraint of the power of the devil, were forced to
acknowledge the finger of God.
8:9. And Moses said to Pharao:  Set me a time when I shall pray for
thee, and for thy servants, and for thy people, that the frogs may be
driven away from thee and from thy house, and from thy servants, and
from thy people; and may remain only in the river.
8:10. And he answered:  To morrow.  But he said:  I will do according to
thy word; that thou mayest know that there is none like to the Lord our
8:11. And the frogs shall depart from thee, and from thy house, and
from thy servants, and from thy people; and shall remain only in the
8:12. And Moses and Aaron went forth from Pharao:  and Moses cried to
the Lord for the promise, which he had made to Pharao concerning the
8:13. And the Lord did according to the word of Moses:  and the frogs
died out of the houses, and out of the villages, and out of the fields:
8:14. And they gathered them together into immense heaps, and the land
was corrupted.
8:15. And Pharao seeing that rest was given, hardened his own heart,
and did not hear them, as the Lord had commanded.
Pharao hardened his own heart. . .By this we see that Pharao was himself
the efficient cause of his heart being hardened, and not God.--See the
same repeated in ver. 32.  Pharao hardened his heart at this time also:
likewise chap. 9.7, 35, and chap. 13.15.
8:16. And the Lord said to Moses:  Say to Aaron:  Stretch forth thy rod,
and strike the dust of the earth; and may there be sciniphs in all the
land of Egypt.
Sciniphs. . .Or Cinifs, Hebrew Chinnim, small flying insects, very
troublesome both to men and beast.
8:17. And they did so.  And Aaron stretched forth his hand, holding the
rod; and he struck the dust of the earth, and there came sciniphs on
men and on beasts:  all the dust of the earth was turned into sciniphs
through all the land of Egypt.
8:18:  And the magicians with their enchantments practised in like
manner, to bring forth sciniphs, and they could not:  and there were
sciniphs as well on men as on beasts.
8:19. And the magicians said to Pharao:  This is the finger of God.  And
Pharao's heart was hardened, and he hearkened not unto them, as the
Lord had commanded.
8:20. The Lord also said to Moses:  Arise early, and stand before
Pharao; for he will go forth to the waters:  and thou shalt say to him:
Thus saith the Lord:  Let my people go to sacrifice to me.
8:21. But if thou wilt not let them go, behold I will send in upon
thee, and upon thy servants, and upon thy houses, all kind of flies:
and the houses of the Egyptians shall be filled with flies of divers
kinds, and the whole land wherein they shall be.
8:22. And I will make the land of Gessen wonderful in that day, so that
flies shall not be there:  and thou shalt know that I am the Lord in the
midst of the earth.
8:23. And I will put a division between my people and thy people:  to
morrow shall this sign be.
8:24. And the Lord did so.  And there came a very grievous swarm of
flies into the houses of Pharao and of his servants, and into all the
land of Egypt:  and the land was corrupted by this kind of flies.
8:25. And Pharao called Moses and Aaron, and said to them:  Go and
sacrifice to your God in this land.
8:26. And Moses said:  It cannot be so:  for we shall sacrifice the
abominations of the Egyptians to the Lord our God:  now if we kill those
things which the Egyptians worship, in their presence, they will stone
The abominations, etc. . .That is, the things they worship for Gods:
oxen, rams, etc.  It is the usual style of the scriptures to call all
idols and false gods, abominations, to signify how much the people of
God ought to detest and abhor them.
8:27. We will go three days' journey into the wilderness; and we will
sacrifice to the Lord our God, as he hath commanded us.
8:28. And Pharao said:  I will let you go to sacrifice to the Lord your
God in the wilderness, but go no farther:  pray for me.
8:29. And Moses said:  I will go out from thee, and will pray to the
Lord:  and the flies shall depart from Pharao, and from his servants,
and from his people to morrow:  but do not deceive any more, in not
letting the people go to sacrifice to the Lord.
8:30. So Moses went out from Pharao, and prayed to the Lord.
8:31. And he did according to his word:  and he took away the flies from
Pharao, and from his servants, and from his people:  there was not left
so much as one.
8:32. And Pharao's heart was hardened, so that neither this time would
he let the people go.
Exodus Chapter 9
The fifth plague is a murrain among the cattle.  The sixth, of boils in
men and beasts.  The seventh, of hail.  Pharao promiseth again to let the
people go, and breaketh his word.
9:1. And the Lord said to Moses:  Go in to Pharao, and speak to him:
Thus saith the Lord God of the Hebrews:  Let my people go to sacrifice
9:2. But if thou refuse, and withhold them still:
9:3. Behold my hand shall be upon thy fields; and a very grievous
murrain upon thy horses, and asses, and camels, and oxen, and sheep.
9:4. And the Lord will make a wonderful difference between the
possessions of Israel and the possessions of the Egyptians, that
nothing at all shall die of those things that belong to the children of
9:5. And the Lord appointed a time, saying:  To morrow will the Lord do
this thing in the land.
9:6. The Lord therefore did this thing the next day:  and all the beasts
of the Egyptians died, but of the beasts of the children of Israel
there died not one.
All the beasts. . .That is, many of all kinds.
9:7. And Pharao sent to see; and there was not any thing dead of that
which Israel possessed.  And Pharao's heart was hardened, and he did not
let the people go.
9:8. And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron:  Take to you handfuls of
ashes out of the chimney, and let Moses sprinkle it in the air in the
presence of Pharao.
9:9. And be there dust upon all the land of Egypt:  for there shall be
boils and swelling blains both in men and beasts, in the whole land of
9:10. And they took ashes out of the chimney, and stood before Pharao,
and Moses sprinkled it in the air; and there came boils with swelling
blains in men and beasts.
9:11. Neither could the magicians stand before Moses, for the boils
that were upon them, and in all the land of Egypt.
9:12. And the Lord hardened Pharao's heart, and he hearkened not unto
them, as the Lord had spoken to Moses.
Hardened, etc. . .See the annotations above, chap. 4.21, chap. 7.3, and
9:13. And the Lord said to Moses:  Arise in the morning, and stand
before Pharao, and thou shalt say to him:  Thus saith the Lord, the God
of the Hebrews:  Let my people go to sacrifice to me.
9:14. For I will at this time send all my plagues upon thy heart, and
upon thy servants, and upon thy people; that thou mayst know that there
is none like me in all the earth.
9:15. For now I will stretch out my hand to strike thee, and thy
people, with pestilence, and thou shalt perish from the earth.
9:16. And therefore have I raised thee, that I may shew my power in
thee, and my name may be spoken of throughout all the earth.
9:17. Dost thou yet hold back my people; and wilt thou not let them go?
9:18:  Behold I will cause it to rain to morrow at this same hour, an
exceeding great hail; such as hath not been in Egypt from the day that
it was founded, until this present time.
9:19. Send therefore now presently, and gather together thy cattle, and
all that thou hast in the field; for men and beasts, and all things
that shall be found abroad, and not gathered together out of the fields
which the hail shall fall upon, shall die.
9:20. He that feared the word of the Lord among Pharao's servants, made
his servants and his cattle flee into houses:
9:21. But he that regarded not the word of the Lord, left his servants,
and his cattle in the fields.
9:22. And the Lord said to Moses:  Stretch forth thy hand towards
heaven, that there may be hail in the whole land of Egypt upon men, and
upon beasts, and upon every herb of the field in the land of Egypt.
9:23. And Moses stretched forth his rod towards heaven, and the Lord
sent thunder and hail, and lightnings running along the ground:  and the
Lord rained hail upon the land of Egypt.
9:24. And the hail and fire mixt with it drove on together:  and it was
of so great bigness, as never before was seen in the whole land of
Egypt since that nation was founded.
9:25. And the hail destroyed through all the land of Egypt all things
that were in the fields, both man and beast:  and the hail smote every
herb of the field, and it broke every tree of the country.
9:26. Only in the land of Gessen, where the children of Israel were,
the hail fell not.
9:27. And Pharao sent and called Moses and Aaron, saying to them:  I
have sinned this time also, the Lord is just:  I and my people, are
9:28. Pray ye to the Lord that the thunderings of God and the hail may
cease:  that I may let you go, and that ye may stay here no longer.
9:29. Moses said:  As soon as I am gone out of the city, I will stretch
forth my hands to the Lord, and the thunders shall cease, and the hail
shall be no more:  that thou mayst know that the earth is the Lord's:
9:30. But I know that neither thou, nor thy servants do yet fear the
9:31. The flax therefore, and the barley were hurt, because the barley
was green, and the flax was now bolled;
9:32. But the wheat, and other winter corn were not hurt, because they
were lateward.
9:33. And when Moses was gone from Pharao out of the city, he stretched
forth his hands to the Lord:  and the thunders and the hail ceased,
neither did there drop any more rain upon the earth.
9:34. And Pharao seeing that the rain, and the hail, and the thunders
were ceased, increased his sin:
9:35. And his heart was hardened, and the heart of his servants, and it
was made exceeding hard:  neither did he let the children of Israel go,
as the Lord had commanded by the hand of Moses.
Exodus Chapter 10
The eighth plague of the locusts.  The ninth, of darkness:  Pharao is
still hardened.
10:1. And the Lord said to Moses:  Go in to Pharao; for I have hardened
his heart, and the heart of his servants:  that I may work these my
signs in him,
10:2. And thou mayst tell in the ears of thy sons, and of thy
grandsons, how often I have plagued the Egyptians, and wrought my signs
amongst them:  and you may know that I am the Lord.
10:3. Therefore Moses and Aaron went in to Pharao, and said to him:
Thus saith the Lord God of the Hebrews:  How long refusest thou to
submit to me?  let my people go, to sacrifice to me.
10:4. But if thou resist, and wilt not let them go, behold I will bring
in to-morrow the locusts into thy coasts;
10:5. To cover the face of the earth, that nothing thereof may appear,
but that which the hail hath left may be eaten:  for they shall feed
upon all the trees that spring in the fields.
10:6. And they shall fill thy houses, and the houses of thy servants,
and of all the Egyptians:  such a number as thy fathers have not seen,
nor thy grandfathers, from the time they were first upon the earth,
until this present day.  And he turned himself away, and went forth from
10:7. And Pharao's servants said to him:  How long shall we endure this
scandal?  Iet the men go to sacrifice to the Lord their God.  Dost thou
not see that Egypt is undone?
10:8. And they called back Moses, and Aaron, to Pharao; and he said to
them:  Go, sacrifice to the Lord your God:  who are they that shall go?
10:9. Moses said:  We will go with our young and old, with our sons and
daughters, with our sheep and herds:  for it is the solemnity of the
Lord our God.
10:10. And Pharao answered:  So be the Lord with you, as I shall let you
and your children go:  who can doubt but that you intend some great
10:11. It shall not be so.  but go ye men only, and sacrifice to the
Lord:  for this yourselves also desired.  And immediately they were cast
out from Pharao's presence.
10:12. And the Lord said to Moses:  Stretch forth thy hand upon the land
of Egypt unto the locust, that it come upon it, and devour every herb
that is left after the hail.
10:13. And Moses stretched forth his rod upon the land of Egypt:  and
the Lord brought a burning wind all that day, and night; and when it
was morning, the burning wind raised the locusts.
10:14. And they came up over the whole land of Egypt; and rested in all
the coasts of the Egyptians, innumerable, the like as had not been
before that time, nor shall be hereafter.
10:15. And they covered the whole face of the earth, wasting all
things.  And the grass of the earth was devoured, and what fruits soever
were on the trees, which the hail had left; and there remained not any
thing that was green on the trees, or in the herbs of the earth, in all
10:16. Wherefore Pharao in haste called Moses and Aaron, and said to
them:  I have sinned against the Lord your God, and against you.
10:17. But now forgive me my sin this time also, and pray to the Lord
your God, that he take away from me this death.
10:18:  And Moses going forth from the presence of Pharao, prayed to the
10:19. And he made a very strong wind to blow from the west, and it
took the locusts and cast them into the Red Sea:  there remained not so
much as one in all the coasts of Egypt.
10:20. And the Lord hardened Pharao's heart, neither did he let the
children of Israel go.
10:21. And the Lord said to Moses:  Stretch out thy hand towards heaven:
and may there be darkness upon the land of Egypt so thick that it may
Darkness upon the land of Egypt, so thick that it may be felt. . .By
means of the gross exhalations, which were to cause and accompany the
10:22. And Moses stretched forth his hand towards heaven:  and there
came horrible darkness in all the land of Egypt for three days.
10:23. No man saw his brother, nor moved himself out of the place where
he was:  but wheresoever the children of Israel dwelt, there was light.
10:24. And Pharao called Moses and Aaron, and said to them:  Go,
sacrifice to the Lord:  let your sheep only, and herds remain, let your
children go with you.
10:25. Moses said:  Thou shalt give us also sacrifices and
burnt-offerings, to the Lord our God.
10:26. All the flocks shall go with us; there shall not a hoof remain
of them:  for they are necessary for the service of the Lord our God:
especially as we know not what must be offered, till we come to the
10:27. And the Lord hardened Pharao's heart, and he would not let them
10:28. And Pharao said to Moses:  Get thee from me, and beware thou see
not my face any more:  in what day soever thou shalt come in my sight,
thou shalt die.
10:29. Moses answered:  So shall it be as thou hast spoken, I will not
see thy face anymore.
Exodus Chapter 11
Pharao and his people are threatened with the death of their firstborn.
11:1. And the Lord said to Moses:  Yet one plague more will I bring upon
Pharao and Egypt, and after that he shall let you go, and thrust you
11:2. Therefore thou shalt tell all the people, that every man ask of
his friend, and every woman of her neighbour, vessels of silver and of
11:3. And the Lord will give favour to his people in the sight of the
Egyptians.  And Moses was a very great man in the land of Egypt, in the
sight of Pharao's servants, and of all the people.
11:4. And he said:  Thus saith the Lord:  At midnight I will enter into
11:5. And every firstborn in the land of the Egyptians shall die, from
the firstborn of Pharao who sitteth on his throne, even to the
firstborn of the handmaid that is at the mill, and all the firstborn of
11:6. And there shall be a great cry in all the land of Egypt, such as
neither hath been before, nor shall be hereafter.
11:7. But with all the children of Israel there shall not a dog make
the least noise, from man even to beast; that you may know how
wonderful a difference the Lord maketh between the Egyptians and
11:8. And all these thy servants shall come down to me, and shall
worship me, saying:  Go forth thou, and all the people that is under
thee:  after that we will go out.
11:9. And he went out from Pharao exceeding angry.  But the Lord said to
Moses:  Pharao will not hear you, that many signs may be done in the
land of Egypt.
11:10. And Moses and Aaron did all the wonders that are written, before
Pharao.  And the Lord hardened Pharao's heart, neither did he let the
children of Israel go out of his land.
The Lord hardened, etc. . .See the annotations above, chap. 4.21, and
Exodus Chapter 12
The manner of preparing, and eating the paschal lamb:  the firstborn of
Egypt are all slain:  the Israelites depart.
12:1. And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt:
12:2. This month shall be to you the beginning of months; it shall be
the first in the months of the year.
12:3. Speak ye to the whole assembly of the children of Israel, and say
to them:  On the tenth day of this month let every man take a lamb by
their families and houses.
12:4. But if the number be less than may suffice to eat the lamb, he
shall take unto him his neighbour that joineth to his house, according
to the number of souls which may be enough to eat the lamb.
12:5. And it shall be a lamb without blemish, a male, of one year;
according to which rite also you shall take a kid.
A kid. . .The phase might be performed, either with a lamb or with a
kid:  and all the same rites and ceremonies were to be used with the one
as with the other.
12:6. And you shall keep it until the fourteenth day of this month; and
the whole multitude of the children of Israel shall sacrifice it in the
12:7. And they shall take of the blood thereof, and put it upon both
the side posts, and on the upper door posts of the houses, wherein they
shall eat it.
12:8. And they shall eat the flesh that night roasted at the fire, and
unleavened bread with wild lettuce.
12:9. You shall not eat thereof any thing raw, nor boiled in water, but
only roasted at the fire; you shall eat the head with the feet and
entrails thereof.
12:10. Neither shall there remain any thing of it until morning.  If
there be any thing left, you shall burn it with fire.
12:11. And thus you shall eat it:  you shall gird your reins, and you
shall have shoes on your feet, holding staves in your hands, and you
shall eat in haste; for it is the Phase (that is the Passage) of the
12:12. And I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and will
kill every firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast:  and
against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments; I am the Lord.
12:13. And the blood shall be unto you for a sign in the houses where
you shall be; and I shall see the blood, and shall pass over you; and
the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I shall strike
the land of Egypt.
12:14. And this day shall be for a memorial to you; and you shall keep
it a feast to the Lord in your generations, with an everlasting
12:15. Seven days shall you eat unleavened bread:  in the first day
there shall be no leaven in your houses; whosoever shall eat any thing
leavened, from the first day until the seventh day, that soul shall
perish out of Israel.
12:16. The first day shall be holy and solemn, and the seventh day
shall be kept with the like solemnity:  you shall do no work in them,
except those things that belong to eating.
12:17. And you shall observe the feast of the unleavened bread:  for in
this same day I will bring forth your army out of the land of Egypt,
and you shall keep this day in your generations by a perpetual
12:18:  The first month, the fourteenth day of the month, in the
evening, you shall eat unleavened bread, until the one and twentieth
day of the same month, in the evening.
Unleavened bread. . .By this it appears, that our Saviour made use of
unleavened bread, in the institution of the blessed sacrament, which
was on the evening of the paschal solemnity, at which time there was no
leavened bread to be found in Israel.
12:19. Seven days there shall not be found any leaven in your houses:
he that shall eat leavened bread, his soul shall perish out of the
assembly of Israel, whether he be a stranger or born in the land.
12:20. You shall not eat any thing leavened:  in all your habitations
you shall eat unleavened bread.
12:21. And Moses called all the ancients of the children of Israel, and
said to them:  Go take a lamb by your families, and sacrifice the Phase.
12:22. And dip a bunch of hyssop in the blood that is at the door, and
sprinkle the transom of the door therewith, and both the door cheeks:
let none of you go out of the door of his house till morning.
Sprinkle, etc. . .This sprinkling the doors of the Israelites with the
blood of the paschal lamb, in order to their being delivered from the
sword of the destroying angel, was a lively figure of our redemption by
the blood of Christ.
12:23. For the Lord will pass through striking the Egyptians:  and when
he shall see the blood on the transom, and on both the posts, he will
pass over the door of the house, and not suffer the destroyer to come
into your houses and to hurt you.
12:24. Thou shalt keep this thing as a law for thee and thy children
12:25. And when you have entered into the land which the Lord will give
you, as he hath promised, you shall observe these ceremonies.
12:26. And when your children shall say to you:  What is the meaning of
this service?
12:27. You shall say to them:  It is the victim of the passage of the
Lord, when he passed over the houses of the children of Israel in
Egypt, striking the Egyptians, and saving our houses.  And the people
bowing themselves, adored.
12:28. And the children of Israel going forth, did as the Lord had
commanded Moses and Aaron.
12:29. And it came to pass at midnight, the Lord slew every firstborn
in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharao, who sat on his
throne, unto the firstborn of the captive woman that was in the prison,
and all the firstborn of cattle.
12:30. And Pharao arose in the night, and all his servants, and all
Egypt:  and there arose a great cry in Egypt; for there was not a house
wherein there lay not one dead.
12:31. And Pharao calling Moses and Aaron, in the night, said:  Arise
and go forth from among my people, you and the children of Israel:  go,
sacrifice to the Lord as you say.
12:32. Your sheep and herds take along with you, as you demanded, and
departing bless me.
12:33. And the Egyptians pressed the people to go forth out of the land
speedily, saying:  We shall all die.
12:34. The people therefore took dough before it was leavened; and
tying it in their cloaks, put it on their shoulders.
12:35. And the children of Israel did as Moses had commanded:  and they
asked of the Egyptians vessels of silver and gold, and very much
12:36. And the Lord gave favour to the people in the sight of the
Egyptians, so that they lent unto them:  and they stripped the
12:37. And the children of Israel set forward from Ramesse to Socoth,
being about six hundred thousand men on foot, beside children.
12:38. And a mixed multitude, without number, went up also with them,
sheep and herds, and beasts of divers kinds, exceeding many.
12:39. And they baked the meal, which a little before they had brought
out of Egypt in dough:  and they made hearth cakes unleavened:  for it
could not be leavened, the Egyptians pressing them to depart, and not
suffering them to make any stay; neither did they think of preparing
12:40. And the abode of the children of Israel that they made in Egypt,
was four hundred and thirty years.
12:41. Which being expired, the same day all the army of the Lord went
forth out of the land of Egypt.
12:42. This is the observable night of the Lord, when he brought them
forth out of the land of Egypt:  this night all the children of Israel
must observe in their generations.
12:43. And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron:  This is the service of the
Phase; no foreigner shall eat of it.
12:44. But every bought servant shall be circumcised, and so shall eat.
12:45. The stranger and the hireling shall not eat thereof.
12:46. In one house shall it be eaten, neither shall you carry forth of
the flesh thereof out of the house, neither shall you break a bone
12:47. All the assembly of the children of Israel shall keep it.
12:48. And if any stranger be willing to dwell among you, and to keep
the Phase of the Lord, all his males shall first be circumcised, and
then shall he celebrate it according to the manner:  and he shall be as
he that is born in the land:  but if any man be uncircumcised, he shall
not eat thereof.
12:49. The same law shall be to him that is born in the land, and to
the proselyte that sojourneth with you.
12:50. And all the children of Israel did as the Lord had commanded
Moses and Aaron.
12:51. And the same day the Lord brought forth the children of Israel
out of the land of Egypt by their companies.
Exodus Chapter 13
The paschal solemnity is to be observed; and the firstborn are to be
consecrated to God.  The people are conducted through the desert by a
pillar of fire in the night, and a cloud in the day.
13:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
13:2. Sanctify unto me every firstborn that openeth the womb among the
children of Israel, as well of men as of beasts:  for they are all mine.
Sanctify unto me every firstborn. . .Sanctification in this place means
that the firstborn males of the Hebrews should be deputed to the
ministry in the divine worship; and the firstborn of beasts to be given
for a sacrifice.
13:3. And Moses said to the people:  Remember this day in which you came
forth out of Egypt, and out of the house of bondage, for with a strong
hand hath the Lord brought you forth out of this place:  that you eat no
leavened bread.
13:4. This day you go forth in the month of new corn.
13:5. And when the Lord shall have brought thee into the land of the
Chanaanite, and the Hethite, and the Amorrhite, and the Hevite, and the
Jebusite, which he swore to thy fathers that he would give thee, a land
that floweth with milk and honey, thou shalt celebrate this manner of
sacred rites in this month.
13:6. Seven days shalt thou eat unleavened bread:  and on the seventh
day shall be the solemnity of the Lord.
13:7. Unleavened bread shall you eat seven days:  there shall not be
seen any thing leavened with thee, nor in all thy coasts.
13:8. And thou shalt tell thy son in that day, saying:  This is what the
Lord did to me when I came forth out of Egypt.
13:9. And it shall be as a sign in thy hand, and as a memorial before
thy eyes; and that the law of the Lord be always in thy mouth, for with
a strong hand the Lord hath brought thee out of the land of Egypt.
13:10. Thou shalt keep this observance at the set time from days to
13:11. And when the Lord shall have brought thee into the land of the
Chanaanite, as he swore to thee and thy fathers, and shall give it
13:12. Thou shalt set apart all that openeth the womb for the Lord, and
all that is first brought forth of thy cattle:  whatsoever thou shalt
have of the male sex, thou shalt consecrate to the Lord.
13:13. The firstborn of an ass thou shalt change for a sheep:  and if
thou do not redeem it, thou shalt kill it.  And every firstborn of men
thou shalt redeem with a price.
13:14. And when thy son shall ask thee to morrow, saying:  What is this?
thou shalt answer him:  With a strong hand did the Lord bring us forth
out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.
13:15. For when Pharao was hardened, and would not let us go, the Lord
slew every firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of man to
the firstborn of beasts:  therefore I sacrifice to the Lord all that
openeth the womb of the male sex, and all the firstborn of my sons I
13:16. And it shall be as a sign in thy hand, and as a thing hung
between thy eyes, for a remembrance:  because the Lord hath brought us
forth out of Egypt by a strong hand.
13:17. And when Pharao had sent out the people, the Lord led them not
by the way of the land of the Philistines, which is near; thinking lest
perhaps they would repent, if they should see wars arise against them,
and would return into Egypt.
13:18:  But he led them about by the way of the desert, which is by the
Red Sea:  and the children of Israel went up armed out of the land of
13:19. And Moses took Joseph's bones with him:  because he had adjured
the children of Israel, saying:  God shall visit you, carry out my bones
from hence with you.
13:20. And marching from Socoth, they encamped in Etham, in the utmost
coasts of the wilderness.
13:21. And the Lord went before them to shew the way, by day in a
pillar of a cloud, and by night in a pillar of fire; that he might be
the guide of their journey at both times.
13:22. There never failed the pillar of the cloud by day, nor the
pillar of fire by night, before the people.
Exodus Chapter 14
Pharao pursueth the children of Israel.  They murmur against Moses, but
are encouraged by him, and pass through the Red Sea.  Pharao and his
army following them are drowned.
14:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
14:2. Speak to the children of Israel:  Let them turn and encamp over
against Phihahiroth, which is between Magdal and the sea over against
Beelsephon:  you shall encamp before it upon the sea.
14:3. And Pharao will say of the children of Israel:  They are
straitened in the land, the desert hath shut them in.
14:4. And I shall harden his heart and he will pursue you:  and I shall
be glorified in Pharao, and in all his army:  and the Egyptians shall
know that I am the Lord.  And they did so.
14:5. And it was told the king of the Egyptians that the people was
fled:  and the heart of Pharao and of his servants was changed with
regard to the people, and they said:  What meant we to do, that we let
Israel go from serving us?
14:6. So he made ready his chariot, and took all his people with him.
14:7. And he took six hundred chosen chariots, and all the chariots
that were in Egypt:  and the captains of the whole army.
14:8. And the Lord hardened the heart of Pharao, king of Egypt, and he
pursued the children of Israel; but they were gone forth in a mighty
14:9. And when the Egyptians followed the steps of them who were gone
before, they found them encamped at the sea side:  all Pharao's horse
and chariots and the whole army were in Phihahiroth, before Beelsephon.
14:10. And when Pharao drew near, the children of Israel lifting up
their eyes, saw the Egyptians behind them:  and they feared exceedingly,
and cried to the Lord.
14:11. And they said to Moses:  Perhaps there were no graves in Egypt,
therefore thou hast brought us to die in the wilderness:  why wouldst
thou do this, to lead us out of Egypt?
14:12. Is not this the word that we spoke to thee in Egypt, saying:
Depart from us, that we may serve the Egyptians?  for it was much better
to serve them, than to die in the wilderness.
14:13. And Moses said to the people:  Fear not:  stand, and see the great
wonders of the Lord, which he will do this day; for the Egyptians, whom
you see now, you shall see no more for ever.
14:14. The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace.
14:15. And the Lord said to Moses:  Why criest thou to me?  Speak to the
children of Israel to go forward.
14:16. But lift thou up thy rod, and stretch forth thy hand over the
sea, and divide it:  that the children of Israel may go through the
midst of the sea on dry ground.
14:17. And I will harden the heart of the Egyptians to pursue you:  and
I will be glorified in Pharao, and in all his host, and in his chariots
and in his horsemen.
14:18:  And the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord, when I shall be
glorified in Pharao, and in his chariots, and in his horsemen.
14:19. And the angel of God, who went before the camp of Israel,
removing, went behind them:  and together with him the pillar of the
cloud, leaving the forepart,
14:20. Stood behind, between the Egyptians' camp and the camp of
Israel:  and it was a dark cloud, and enlightening the night, so that
they could not come at one another all the night.
A dark cloud, and enlightening the night. . .It was a dark cloud to the
Egyptians; but enlightened the night to the Israelites by giving them a
great light.
14:21. And when Moses had stretched forth his hand over the sea, the
Lord took it away by a strong and burning wind blowing all the night,
and turned it into dry ground:  and the water was divided.
14:22. And the children of Israel went in through the midst of the sea
dried up; for the water was as a wall on their right hand and on their
14:23. And the Egyptians pursuing went in after them, and all Pharao's
horses, his chariots and horsemen, through the midst of the sea.
14:24. And now the morning watch was come, and behold the Lord looking
upon the Egyptian army through the pillar of fire and of the cloud,
slew their host.
14:25. And overthrew the wheels of the chariots, and they were carried
into the deep.  And the Egyptians said:  Let us flee from Israel; for the
Lord fighteth for them against us.
14:26. And the Lord said to Moses:  Stretch forth thy hand over the sea,
that the waters may come again upon the Egyptians, upon their chariots
and horsemen.
14:27. And when Moses had stretched forth his hand towards the sea, it
returned at the first break of day to the former place:  and as the
Egyptians were fleeing away, the waters came upon them, and the Lord
shut them up in the middle of the waves.
14:28. And the waters returned, and covered the chariots and the
horsemen of all the army of Pharao, who had come into the sea after
them, neither did there so much as one of them remain.
14:29. But the children of Israel marched through the midst of the sea
upon dry land, and the waters were to them as a wall on the right hand
and on the left:
14:30. And the Lord delivered Israel in that day out of the hands of
the Egyptians.
14:31. And they saw the Egyptians dead upon the sea shore, and the
mighty hand that the Lord had used against them:  and the people feared
the Lord, and they believed the Lord, and Moses his servant.
Exodus Chapter 15
The canticle of Moses.  The bitter waters of Mara are made sweet.
15:1. Then Moses and the children of Israel sung this canticle to the
Lord, and said:  Let us sing to the Lord:  for he is gloriously
magnified, the horse and the rider he hath thrown into the sea.
15:2. The Lord is my strength and my praise, and he is become salvation
to me:  he is my God, and I will glorify him:  the God of my father, and
I will exalt him.
15:3. The Lord is as a man of war, Almighty is his name.
15:4. Pharao's chariots and his army he hath cast into the sea:  his
chosen captains are drowned in the Red Sea.
15:5. The depths have covered them, they are sunk to the bottom like a
15:6. Thy right hand, O Lord, is magnified in strength:  thy right hand,
O Lord, hath slain the enemy.
15:7. And in the multitude of thy glory thou hast put down thy
adversaries:  thou hast sent thy wrath, which hath devoured them like
15:8. And with the blast of thy anger the waters were gathered
together:  the flowing water stood, the depths were gathered together in
the midst of the sea.
15:9. The enemy said:  I will pursue and overtake, I will divide the
spoils, my soul shall have its fill:  I will draw my sword, my hand
shall slay them.
15:10. Thy wind blew and the sea covered them:  they sunk as lead in the
mighty waters.
15:11. Who is like to thee, among the strong, O Lord?  who is like to
thee, glorious in holiness, terrible and praise-worthy, doing wonders?
15:12. Thou stretchedst forth thy hand, and the earth swallowed them.
15:13. In thy mercy thou hast been a leader to the people which thou
hast redeemed:  and in thy strength thou hast carried them to thy holy
15:14. Nations rose up, and were angry:  sorrows took hold on the
inhabitants of Philisthiim.
15:15. Then were the princes of Edom troubled, trembling seized on the
stout men of Moab:  all the inhabitants of Chanaan became stiff.
15:16. Let fear and dread fall upon them, in the greatness of thy arm:
let them become immoveable as a stone, until thy people, O Lord, pass
by:  until this thy people pass by, which thou hast possessed.
15:17. Thou shalt bring them in, and plant them in the mountain of thy
inheritance, in thy most firm habitation, which thou hast made, O Lord;
thy sanctuary, O Lord, which thy hands have established.
15:18:  The Lord shall reign for ever and ever.
15:19. For Pharao went in on horseback with his chariots and horsemen
into the sea:  and the Lord brought back upon them the waters of the
sea:  but the children of Israel walked on dry ground in the midst
15:20. So Mary the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in
her hand:  and all the women went forth after her with timbrels and with
15:21. And she began the song to them, saying:  Let us sing to the Lord,
for he is gloriously magnified, the horse and his rider he hath thrown
into the sea.
15:22. And Moses brought Israel from the Red Sea, and they went forth
into the wilderness of Sur:  and they marched three days through the
wilderness, and found no water.
15:23. And they came into Mara, and they could not drink the waters of
Mara because they were bitter:  whereupon he gave a name also agreeable
to the place, calling it Mara, that is, bitterness.
15:24. And the people murmured against Moses, saying:  What shall we
15:25. But he cried to the Lord, and he shewed him a tree, which when
he had cast into the waters, they were turned into sweetness.  There he
appointed him ordinances, and judgments, and there he proved him,
15:26. Saying:  If thou wilt hear the voice of the Lord thy God, and do
what is right before him, and obey his commandments, and keep all his
precepts, none of the evils that I laid upon Egypt, will I bring upon
thee:  for I am the Lord thy healer.
15:27. And the children of Israel came into Elim, where there were
twelve fountains of water, and seventy palm trees:  and they encamped by
Exodus Chapter 16
The people murmur for want of meat:  God giveth them quails and manna.
16:1. And they set forward from Elim, and all the multitude of the
children of Israel came into the desert of Sin, which is between Elim
and Sinai:  the fifteenth day of the second month, after they came out
of the land of Egypt.
16:2. And all the congregation of the children of Israel murmured
against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness.
16:3. And the children of Israel said to them:  Would to God we had died
by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat over the
fleshpots, and ate bread to the full:  Why have you brought us into this
desert, that you might destroy all the multitude with famine?
16:4. And the Lord said to Moses:  Behold I will rain bread from heaven
for you; let the people go forth, and gather what is sufficient for
every day:  that I may prove them whether they will walk in my law, or
16:5. But the sixth day let them provide for to bring in:  and let it be
double to that they were wont to gather every day.
16:6. And Moses and Aaron said to the children of Israel In the evening
you shall know that the Lord hath brought you forth out of the land of
16:7. And in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord:  for he
hath heard your murmuring against the Lord:  but as for us, what are we,
that you mutter against us?
16:8. And Moses said:  In the evening the Lord will give you flesh to
eat, and in the morning bread to the full:  for he hath heard your
murmurings, with which you have murmured against him, for what are we?
your murmuring is not against us, but against the Lord.
16:9. Moses also said to Aaron:  Say to the whole congregation of the
children of Israel:  Come before the Lord; for he hath heard your
16:10. And when Aaron spoke to all the assembly of the children of
Israel, they looked towards the wilderness; and behold the glory of the
Lord appeared in a cloud.
16:11. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
16:12. I have heard the murmuring of the children of Israel, say to
them:  In the evening you shall eat flesh, and in the morning you shall
have your fill of bread; and you shall know that I am the Lord your
16:13. So it came to pass in the evening, that quails coming up,
covered the camp:  and in the morning a dew lay round about the camp.
16:14. And when it had covered the face of the earth, it appeared in
the wilderness small, and as it were beaten with a pestle, like unto
the hoar frost on the ground.
16:15. And when the children of Israel saw it, they said one to
another:  Manhu! which signifieth:  What is this! for they knew not what
it was.  And Moses said to them:  This is the bread which the Lord hath
given you to eat.
16:16. This is the word that the Lord hath commanded:  Let every one
gather of it as much as is enough to eat; a gomor for every man,
according to the number of your souls that dwell in a tent, so shall
you take of it.
16:17. And the children of Israel did so:  and they gathered, one more,
another less.
16:18:  And they measured by the measure of a gomor:  neither had he more
that had gathered more; nor did he find less that had provided less:
but every one had gathered, according to what they were able to eat.
16:19. And Moses said to them:  Let no man leave thereof till the
16:20. And they hearkened not to him, but some of them left until the
morning, and it began to be full of worms, and it putrified, and Moses
was angry with them.
16:21. Now every one of them gathered in the morning, as much as might
suffice to eat:  and after the sun grew hot, it melted.
16:22. But on the sixth day they gathered twice as much, that is, two
gomors every man:  and all the rulers of the multitude came, and told
16:23. And he said to them:  This is what the Lord hath spoken:  To
morrow is the rest of the sabbath sanctified to the Lord.  Whatsoever
work is to be done, do it; and the meats that are to be dressed, dress
them; and whatsoever shall remain, lay it up until the morning.
16:24. And they did so as Moses had commanded, and it did not putrify,
neither was there worm found in it.
16:25. And Moses said:  Eat it to day, because it is the sabbath of the
Lord:  to day it shall not be found in the field.
16:26. Gather it six days; but on the seventh day is the sabbath of the
Lord, therefore it shall not be found.
16:27. And the seventh day came; and some of the people going forth to
gather, found none.
16:28. And the Lord said to Moses:  How long will you refuse to keep my
commandments, and my law?
16:29. See that the Lord hath given you the sabbath, and for this
reason on the sixth day he giveth you a double provision:  let each man
stay at home, and let none go forth out of his place the seventh day.
16:30. And the people kept the sabbath on the seventh day.
16:31. And the house of Israel called the name thereof Manna:  and it
was like coriander seed, white, and the taste thereof like to flour
16:32. And Moses said:  This is the word which the Lord hath commanded:
Fill a gomor of it, and let it be kept unto generations to come
hereafter; that they may know the bread, wherewith I fed you in the
wilderness when you were brought forth out of the land of Egypt.
16:33. And Moses said to Aaron:  Take a vessel, and put manna into it,
as much as a gomor can hold; and lay it up before the Lord, to keep
unto your generations,
16:34. As the Lord commanded Moses.  And Aaron put it in the tabernacle
16:35. And the children of Israel ate manna forty years, till they came
to a habitable land:  with this meat were they fed, until they reached
the borders of the land of Chanaan.
16:36. Now a gomor is the tenth part of an ephi.
Exodus Chapter 17
The people murmur again for want of drink; the Lord giveth them water
out of a rock.  Moses lifting up his hand in prayer, Amalec is overcome.
17:1. Then all the multitude of the children of Israel setting forward
from the desert of Sin, by their mansions, according to the word of the
Lord, encamped in Raphidim, where there was no water for the people to
17:2. And they chode with Moses, and said:  Give us water, that we may
drink.  And Moses answered them:  Why chide you with me?  Wherefore do
you tempt the Lord?
17:3. So the people were thirsty there for want of water, and murmured
against Moses, saying:  Why didst thou make us go forth out of Egypt, to
kill us and our children, and our beasts with thirst?
17:4. And Moses cried to the Lord, saying:  What shall I do to this
people?  Yet a little more and they will stone me.
17:5. And the Lord said to Moses:  Go before the people, and take with
thee of the ancients of Israel:  and take in thy hand the rod wherewith
thou didst strike the river, and go.
17:6. Behold I will stand there before thee, upon the rock Horeb, and
thou shalt strike the rock, and water shall come out of it that the
people may drink.  Moses did so before the ancients of Israel:
17:7. And he called the name of that place Temptation, because of the
chiding of the children of Israel, and for that they tempted the Lord,
saying:  Is the Lord amongst us or not?
17:8. And Amalec came, and fought against Israel in Raphidim.
17:9. And Moses said to Josue:  Choose out men; and go out and fight
against Amalec:  tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill, having
the rod of God in my hand.
17:10. Josue did as Moses had spoken, and he fought against Amalec; but
Moses, and Aaron, and Hur, went up upon the top of the hill.
17:11. And when Moses lifted up his hands, Israel overcame; but if he
let them down a little, Amalec overcame.
17:12. And Moses's hands were heavy:  so they took a stone, and put
under him, and he sat on it:  and Aaron and Hur stayed up his hands on
both sides.  And it came to pass, that his hands were not weary until
17:13. And Josue put Amalec and his people to flight, by the edge of
17:14. And the Lord said to Moses:  Write this for a memorial in a book,
and deliver it to the ears of Josue; for I will destroy the memory of
Amalec from under heaven.
17:15. And Moses built an altar; and called the name thereof, The Lord,
my exaltation, saying:
17:16. Because the hand of the throne of the Lord, and the war of the
Lord shall be against Amalec, from generation to generation.
Exodus Chapter 18
Jethro bringeth to Moses his wife and children.  His counsel.
18:1. And when Jethro the priest of Madian, the kinsman of Moses, had
heard all the things that God had done to Moses, and to Israel his
people, and that the Lord had brought forth Israel out of Egypt:
18:2. He took Sephora, the wife of Moses, whom he had sent back:
18:3. And her two sons, of whom one was called Gersam:  his father
saying, I have been a stranger in a foreign country.
18:4. And the other Eliezer:  For the God of my father, said he, is my
helper, and hath delivered me from the sword of Pharao.
18:5. And Jethro, the kinsman of Moses, came with his sons, and his
wife to Moses into the desert, where he was camped by the mountain of
18:6. And he sent word to Moses, saying:  I Jethro, thy kinsman, come to
thee, and thy wife, and thy two sons with her.
18:7. And he went out to meet his kinsman, and worshipped and kissed
him:  and they saluted one another with words of peace.  And when he was
come into the tent,
18:8. Moses told his kinsman all that the Lord had done to Pharao, and
the Egyptians in favour of Israel:  and all the labour which had
befallen them in the journey, and that the Lord had delivered them.
18:9. And Jethro rejoiced for all the good things that the Lord had
done to Israel, because he had delivered them out of the hands of the
18:10. And he said:  Blessed is the Lord, who hath delivered his people
out of the hand of Egypt.
18:11. Now I know, that the Lord is great above all gods; because they
dealt proudly against them.
18:12. So Jethro, the kinsman of Moses, offered holocausts and
sacrifices to God:  and Aaron and all the ancients of Israel came, to
eat bread with him before God.
18:13. And the next day Moses sat to judge the people, who stood by
Moses from morning until night.
18:14. And when his kinsman had seen all things that he did among the
people, he said:  What is it that thou dost among the people?  Why
sittest thou alone, and all the people wait from morning till night?
18:15. And Moses answered him:  The people come to me to seek the
judgment of God?
18:16. And when any controversy falleth out among them, they come to me
to judge between them, and to shew the precepts of God, and his laws.
18:17. But he said:  The thing thou dost is not good.
18:18:  Thou art spent with foolish labour, both thou, and this people
that is with thee; the business is above thy strength, thou alone canst
not bear it.
18:19. But hear my words and counsels, and God shall be with thee.  Be
thou to the people in those things that pertain to God, to bring their
words to him:
18:20. And to shew the people the ceremonies, and the manner of
worshipping; and the way wherein they ought to walk, and the work that
they ought to do.
18:21. And provide out of all the people able men, such as fear God, in
whom there is truth, and that hate avarice, and appoint of them rulers
of thousands, and of hundreds, and of fifties, and of tens,
18:22. Who may judge the people at all times:  and when any great matter
soever shall fall out, let them refer it to thee, and let them judge
the lesser matters only:  that so it may be lighter for thee, the burden
being shared out unto others.
18:23. If thou dost this, thou shalt fulfil the commandment of God, and
shalt be able to bear his precepts:  and all this people shall return to
their places with peace.
18:24. And when Moses heard this, he did all things that he had
suggested unto him.
18:25. And choosing able men out of all Israel, he appointed them
rulers of the people, rulers over thousands, and over hundreds, and
over fifties, and over tens.
18:26. And they judged the people at all times:  and whatsoever was of
greater difficulty they referred to him, and they judged the easier
18:27. And he let his kinsman depart:  and he returned and went into his
own country.
Exodus Chapter 19
They come to Sinai:  the people are commanded to be sanctified.  The
Lord, coming in thunder and lightning, speaketh with Moses.
19:1. In the third month of the departure of Israel out of the land of
Egypt, on this day they came into the wilderness of Sinai:
19:2. For departing out of Raphidim, and coming to the desert of Sinai,
they camped in the same place, and there Israel pitched their tents
over against the mountain.
19:3. And Moses went up to God; and the Lord called unto him from the
mountain, and said:  Thus shalt thou say to the house of Jacob, and tell
the children of Israel:
And Moses went up to God. . .Moses went up to mount Sinai, where God
spoke to him.
19:4. You have seen what I have done to the Egyptians, how I have
carried you upon the wings of eagles, and have taken you to myself.
19:5. If therefore you will hear my voice, and keep my covenant, you
shall be my peculiar possession above all people:  for all the earth is
19:6. And you shall be to me a priestly kingdom, and a holy nation.
These are the words thou shalt speak to the children of Israel.
19:7. Moses came; and calling together the elders of the people, he
declared all the words which the Lord had commanded.
19:8. And all the people answered together:  All that the Lord hath
spoken, we will do.  And when Moses had related the people's words to
19:9. The Lord said to him:  Lo, now will I come to thee in the darkness
of a cloud, that the people may hear me speaking to thee, and may
believe thee for ever.  And Moses told the words of the people to the
19:10. And he said to him:  Go to the people, and sanctify them to day,
and to morrow, and let them wash their garments.
19:11. And let them be ready against the third day; for on the third
day the Lord will come down in the sight of all the people, upon Mount
19:12. And thou shalt appoint certain limits to the people round about,
and thou shalt say to them:  Take heed ye go not up into the mount, and
that ye touch not the borders thereof:  every one that toucheth the
mount, dying he shall die.
19:13. No hands shall touch him, but he shall be stoned to death, or he
shall be shot through with arrows:  whether it be beast, or man, he
shall not live.  When the trumpet shall begin to sound, then let them go
up into the mount.
19:14. And Moses came down from the mount to the people, and sanctified
them.  And when they had washed their garments,
19:15. He said to them:  Be ready against the third day, and come not
near your wives.
19:16. And now the third day was come, and the morning appeared:  and
behold thunders began to be heard, and lightning to flash, and a very
thick cloud to cover the mount, and the noise of the trumpet sounded
exceeding loud; and the people that was in the camp, feared.
19:17. And when Moses had brought them forth to meet God, from the
place of the camp, they stood at the bottom of the mount.
19:18. And all Mount Sinai was on a smoke:  because the Lord was come
down upon it in fire, and the smoke arose from it as out of a furnace:
and all the mount was terrible.
19:19. And the sound of the trumpet grew by degrees louder and louder,
and was drawn out to a greater length:  Moses spoke, and God answered
19:20. And the Lord came down upon Mount Sinai, in the very top of the
mount, and he called Moses unto the top thereof.  And when he was gone
19:21. He said unto him:  Go down, and charge the people; lest they
should have a mind to pass the limits to see the Lord, and a very great
multitude of them should perish.
19:22. The priests also that come to the Lord, let them be sanctified,
lest he strike them.
19:23. And Moses said to the Lord:  The people cannot come up to Mount
Sinai:  for thou didst charge, and command, saying:  Set limits about the
mount, and sanctify it.
19:24. And the Lord said to him:  Go, get thee down; and thou shalt come
up, thou and Aaron with thee:  but let not the priests and the people
pass the limits, nor come up to the Lord, lest he kill them.
19:25. And Moses went down to the people and told them all.
Exodus Chapter 20
The ten commandments.
20:1. And the Lord spoke all these words:
20:2. I am the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt,
out of the house of bondage.
20:3. Thou shalt not have strange gods before me.
20:4. Thou shalt not make to thyself a graven thing, nor the likeness
of any thing that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, nor of
those things that are in the waters under the earth.
A graven thing, nor the likeness of any thing, etc. . .All such images,
or likenesses, are forbidden by this commandment, as are made to be
adored and served; according to that which immediately follows, thou
shalt not adore them, nor serve them.  That is, all such as are designed
for idols or image-gods, or are worshipped with divine honour.  But
otherwise images, pictures, or representations, even in the house of
God, and in the very sanctuary so far from being forbidden, are
expressly authorized by the word of God.  See Ex. 25.15, and etc.; chap.
38.7; Num. 21.8, 9; 1 Chron. or Paralip. 28.18, 19; 2 Chron. or
Paralip. 3.10.
20:5. Thou shalt not adore them, nor serve them:  I am the Lord thy God,
mighty, jealous, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the
children, unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me:
20:6. And shewing mercy unto thousands to them that love me, and keep
my commandments.
20:7. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain:  for the
Lord will not hold him guiltless that shall take the name of the Lord
his God in vain.
20:8. Remember that thou keep holy the sabbath day.
20:9. Six days shalt thou labour, and shalt do all thy works.
20:10. But on the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God:  thou
shalt do no work on it, thou nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy
manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy beast, nor the stranger that
is within thy gates.
20:11. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, and the sea, and
all things that are in them, and rested on the seventh day:  therefore
the Lord blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it.
20:12. Honour thy father and thy mother, that thou mayst be longlived
upon the land which the Lord thy God will give thee.
20:13. Thou shalt not kill.
20:14. Thou shalt not commit adultery.
20:15. Thou shalt not steal.
20:16. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.
20:17. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's house; neither shalt thou
desire his wife, nor his servant, nor his handmaid, nor his ox, nor his
ass, nor any thing that is his.
20:18. And all the people saw the voices and the flames, and the sound
of the trumpet, and the mount smoking; and being terrified and struck
with fear, they stood afar off,
20:19. Saying to Moses:  Speak thou to us, and we will hear:  let not the
Lord speak to us, lest we die.
20:20. And Moses said to the people:  Fear not; for God is come to prove
you, and that the dread of him might be in you, and you should not sin.
20:21. And the people stood afar off.  But Moses went to the dark cloud
wherein God was.
20:22. And the Lord said to Moses:  Thus shalt thou say to the children
of Israel:  You have seen that I have spoken to you from heaven.
20:23. You shall not make gods of silver, nor shall you make to
yourselves gods of gold.
20:24. You shall make an altar of earth unto me, and you shall offer
upon it your holocausts and peace offerings, your sheep and oxen, in
every place where the memory of my name shall be:  I will come to thee,
and will bless thee.
20:25. And if thou make an altar of stone unto me, thou shalt not build
it of hewn stones; for if thou lift up a tool upon it, it shall be
20:26. Thou shalt not go up by steps unto my altar, lest thy nakedness
be discovered.
Exodus Chapter 21
Laws relating to Justice.
21:1. These are the judgments which thou shalt set before them.
21:2. If thou buy a Hebrew servant, six years shall he serve thee; in
the seventh he shall go out free for nothing.
21:3. With what raiment he came in, with the like let him go out:  if
having a wife, his wife also shall go out with him.
21:4. But if his master gave him a wife, and she hath borne sons and
daughters; the woman and her children shall be her master's:  but he
himself shall go out with his raiment.
21:5. And if the servant shall say:  I love my master and my wife and
children, I will not go out free:
21:6. His master shall bring him to the gods, and he shall be set to
the door and the posts, and he shall bore his ear through with an awl:
and he shall be his servant for ever.
To the gods. . .Elohim.  That is, to the judges, or magistrates,
authorized by God.
21:7. If any man sell his daughter to be a servant, she shall not go
out as bondwomen are wont to go out.
21:8. If she displease the eyes of her master to whom she was
delivered, he shall let her go:  but he shall have no power to sell her
to a foreign nation, if he despise her.
21:9. But if he have betrothed her to his son, he shall deal with her
after the manner of daughters.
21:10. And if he take another wife for him, he shall provide her a
marriage, and raiment, neither shall he refuse the price of her
21:11. If he do not these three things, she shall go out free without
21:12. He that striketh a man with a will to kill him, shall be put to
21:13. But he that did not lie in wait for him, but God delivered him
into his hands:  I will appoint thee a place to which he must flee.
21:14. If a man kill his neighbour on set purpose, and by lying in wait
for him:  thou shalt take him away from my altar that he may die.
21:15. He that striketh his father or mother, shall be put to death.
21:16. He that shall steal a man, and sell him, being convicted of the
guilt, shall be put to death.
21:17. He that curseth his father or mother, shall die the death.
21:18. If men quarrel, and the one strike his neighbour with a stone,
or with his fist, and he die not, but keepeth his bed:
21:19. If he rise again and walk abroad upon his staff, he that struck
him shall be quit, yet so that he make restitution for his work, and
for his expenses upon the physicians.
21:20. He that striketh his bondman, or bondwoman, with a rod, and they
die under his hands, shall be guilty of the crime.
21:21. But if the party remain alive a day or two, he shall not be
subject to the punishment, because it is his money.
21:22. If men quarrel, and one strike a woman with child and she
miscarry indeed, but live herself:  he shall be answerable for so much
damage as the woman's husband shall require, and as arbiters shall
21:23. But if her death ensue thereupon, he shall render life for life,
21:24. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot,
21:25. Burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.
21:26. If any man strike the eye of his manservant or maidservant, and
leave them but one eye, he shall let them go free for the eye which he
21:27. Also if he strike out a tooth of his manservant or maidservant,
he shall in like manner make them free.
21:28. If an ox gore a man or a woman, and they die, he shall be
stoned:  and his flesh shall not be eaten, but the owner of the ox shall
21:29. But if the ox was wont to push with his horn yesterday, and the
day before, and they warned his master, and he did not shut him up, and
he shall kill a man or a woman:  then the ox shall be stoned, and his
owner also shall be put to death.
21:30. And if they set a price upon him, he shall give for his life
whatsoever is laid upon him.
21:31. If he have gored a son, or a daughter, he shall fall under the
like sentence.
21:32. If he assault a bondman or bondwoman, he shall give thirty
sicles of silver to their master, and the ox shall be stoned.
21:33. If a man open a pit, and dig one, and cover it not, and an ox or
an ass fall into it,
21:34. The owner of the pit shall pay the price of the beasts:  and that
which is dead shall be his own.
21:35. If one man's ox gore another man's ox, and he die:  they shall
sell the live ox, and shall divide the price, and the carcass of that
which died they shall part between them:
21:36. But if he knew that his ox was wont to push yesterday, and the
day before, and his master did not keep him in; he shall pay ox for ox,
and shall take the whole carcass.
Exodus Chapter 22
The punishment of theft, and other trespasses.  The law of lending
without usury, of taking pledges of reverences to superiors, and of
paying tithes.
22:1. If any man steal an ox or a sheep, and kill or sell it:  he shall
restore five oxen for one ox, and four sheep for one sheep.
22:2. If a thief be found breaking open a house or undermining it, and
be wounded so as to die:  he that slew him shall not be guilty of blood.
22:3. But if he did this when the sun is risen, he hath committed
murder, and he shall die.  If he have not wherewith to make restitution
for the theft, he shall be sold.
22:4. If that which he stole be found with him, alive, either ox, or
ass, or sheep:  he shall restore double.
22:5. If any man hurt a field or a vineyard, and put in his beast to
feed upon that which is other men's:  he shall restore the best of
whatsoever he hath in his own field, or in his vineyard, according to
the estimation of the damage.
22:6. If a fire breaking out light upon thorns, and catch stacks of
corn, or corn standing in the fields, he that kindled the fire shall
make good the loss.
22:7. If a man deliver money, or any vessel unto his friend to keep,
and they be stolen away from him that received them:  if the thief be
found, he shall restore double:
22:8. If the thief be not known, the master of the house shall be
brought to the gods, and shall swear that he did not lay his hand upon
his neighbour's goods,
22:9. To do any fraud, either in ox, or in ass, or sheep, or raiment,
or any thing that may bring damage:  the cause of both parties shall
come to the gods:  and if they give judgment, he shall restore double to
his neighbour.
22:10. If a man deliver ass, ox, sheep, or any beast, to his
neighbour's custody, and it die, or be hurt, or be taken by enemies,
and no man saw it:
22:11. There shall be an oath between them, that he did not put forth
his hand to his neighbour's goods:  and the owner shall accept of the
oath, and he shall not be compelled to make restitution.
22:12. But if it were taken away by stealth, he shall make the loss
good to the owner.
22:13. If it were eaten by a beast, let him bring to him that which was
slain, and he shall not make restitution.
22:14. If a man borrow of his neighbour any of these things, and it be
hurt or die, the owner not being present, he shall be obliged to make
restitution.
22:15. But if the owner be present, he shall not make restitution,
especially if it were hired, and came for the hire of his work.
22:16. If a man seduce a virgin not yet espoused, and lie with her:  he
shall endow her, and have her to wife.
22:17. If the maid's father will not give her to him, he shall give
money according to the dowry, which virgins are wont to receive.
22:18. Wizards thou shalt not suffer to live.
22:19. Whosoever copulateth with a beast; shall be put to death.
22:20. He that sacrificeth to gods, shall be put to death, save only to
22:21. Thou shalt not molest a stranger, nor afflict him:  for
yourselves also were strangers in the land of Egypt.
22:22. You shall not hurt a widow or an orphan.
22:23. If you hurt them, they will cry out to me, and I will hear their
22:24. And my rage shall be enkindled, and I will strike you with the
sword, and your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless.
22:25. If thou lend money to any of my people that is poor, that
dwelleth with thee, thou shalt not be hard upon them as an extortioner,
nor oppress them with usuries.
22:26. If thou take of thy neighbour a garment in pledge, thou shalt
give it him again before sunset.
22:27. For that same is the only thing, wherewith he is covered, the
clothing of his body, neither hath he any other to sleep in:  if he cry
to me, I will hear him, because I am compassionate.
22:28. Thou shalt not speak ill of the gods, and the prince of thy
people thou shalt not curse.
22:29. Thou shalt not delay to pay thy tithes and thy firstfruits:  thou
shalt give the firstborn of thy sons to me.
22:30. Thou shalt do the same with the firstborn of thy oxen also and
sheep:  seven days let it be with its dam:  the eighth day thou shalt
give it to me.
22:31. You shall be holy men to me:  the flesh that beasts have tasted
of before, you shall not eat, but shall cast it to the dogs.
Exodus Chapter 23
Laws for judges; the rest of the seventh year, and day:  three principal
feasts to be solemnized every year; the promise of an angel, to conduct
and protect them:  idols are to be destroyed.
23:1. Thou shalt not receive the voice of a lie:  neither shalt thou
join thy hand to bear false witness for a wicked person.
23:2. Thou shalt not follow the multitude to do evil:  neither shalt
thou yield in judgment, to the opinion of the most part, to stray from
23:3. Neither shalt thou favour a poor man in judgment.
23:4. If thou meet thy enemy's ox or ass going astray, bring it back to
23:5. If thou see the ass of him that hateth thee lie underneath his
burden, thou shalt not pass by, but shalt lift him up with him.
23:6. Thou shalt not go aside in the poor man's judgment.
23:7. Thou shalt fly lying.  The innocent and just person thou shalt not
put to death:  because I abhor the wicked.
23:8. Neither shalt thou take bribes, which even blind the wise, and
pervert the words of the just.
23:9. Thou shalt not molest a stranger, for you know the hearts of
strangers:  for you also were strangers in the land of Egypt.
23:10. Six years thou shalt sow thy ground, and shalt gather the corn
23:11. But the seventh year thou shalt let it alone, and suffer it to
rest, that the poor of thy people may eat, and whatsoever shall be
left, let the beasts of the field eat it:  so shalt thou do with thy
vineyard and thy oliveyard.
23:12. Six days thou shalt work:  the seventh day thou shalt cease, that
thy ox and thy ass may rest:  and the son of thy handmaid and the
stranger may be refreshed.
23:13. Keep all things that I have said to you.  And by the name of
strange gods you shall not swear, neither shall it be heard out of your
23:14. Three times every year you shall celebrate feasts to me.
23:15. Thou shalt keep the feast of unleavened bread.  Seven days shalt
thou eat unleavened bread, as I commanded thee, in the time of the
month of new corn, when thou didst come forth out of Egypt:  thou shalt
not appear empty before me.
23:16. And the feast of the harvest of the firstfruits of thy work,
whatsoever thou hast sown in the field.  The feast also in the end of
the year, when thou hast gathered in all thy corn out of the field.
23:17. Thrice a year shall all thy males appear before the Lord thy
23:18. Thou shalt not sacrifice the blood of my victim upon leaven,
neither shall the fat of my solemnity remain until the morning.
23:19. Thou shalt carry the first-fruits of the corn of thy ground to
the house of the Lord thy God.  Thou shalt not boil a kid in the milk of
23:20. Behold I will send my angel, who shall go before thee, and keep
thee in thy journey, and bring thee into the place that I have
23:21. Take notice of him, and hear his voice, and do not think him one
to be contemned:  for he will not forgive when thou hast sinned, and my
name is in him.
23:22. But if thou wilt hear hi voice, and do all that I speak, I will
be an enemy to thy enemies, and will afflict them that afflict thee.
23:23. And my angel shall go before thee, and shall bring thee in unto
the Amorrhite, and the Hethite, and the Pherexite, and the Chanaanite,
and the Hevite, and the Jebuzite, whom I will destroy.
23:24. Thou shalt not adore their gods, nor serve them.  Thou shalt not
do their works, but shalt destroy them, and break their statues.
23:25. And you shall serve the Lord your God, that I may bless your
bread and your waters, and may take away sickness from the midst of
23:26. There shall not be one fruitless nor barren in thy land:  I will
fill the number of thy days.
23:27. I will send my fear before thee, and will destroy all the people
to whom thou shalt come:  and will turn the backs of all thy enemies
before thee:
23:28. Sending out hornets before, that shall drive away the Hevite,
and the Chanaanite, and the Hethite, before thou come in.
23:29. I will not cast them out from thy face in one year; lest the
land be brought into a wilderness, and the beasts multiply against
23:30. By little and little I will drive them out from before thee,
till thou be increased, and dost possess the land.
23:31. And I will set thy bounds from the Red Sea to the sea of the
Palestines, and from the desert to the river:  I will deliver the
inhabitants of the land into your hands, and will drive them out from
23:32. Thou shalt not enter into league with them, nor with their gods.
23:33. Let them not dwell in thy land, lest perhaps they make thee sin
against me, if thou serve their gods; which, undoubtedly, will be a
scandal to thee.
Exodus Chapter 24
Moses writeth his law; and after offering sacrifices, sprinkleth the
blood of the testament upon the people:  then goeth up the mountain
which God covereth with a fiery cloud.
24:1. And he said to Moses:  Come up to the Lord, thou, and Aaron, Nadab
and Abiu, and seventy of the ancients of Israel, and you shall adore
24:2. And Moses alone shall come up to the Lord, but they shall not
come nigh; neither shall the people come up with him.
24:3. So Moses came and told the people all the words of the Lord, and
all the judgments:  and all the people answered with one voice:  We will
do all the words of the Lord, which he hath spoken.
24:4. And Moses wrote all the words of the Lord:  and rising in the
morning, he built an altar at the foot of the mount, and twelve titles
according to the twelve tribes of Israel.
Titles. . .That is, pillars.
24:5. And he sent young men of the children of Israel, and they offered
holocausts, and sacrificed pacific victims of calves to the Lord.
Holocausts. . .Whole burnt offerings, in which the whole sacrifice was
consumed with fire upon the altar.
24:6. Then Moses took half of the blood, and put it into bowls; and the
rest he poured upon the altar.
24:7. And taking the book of the covenant, he read it in the hearing of
the people:  and they said:  All things that the Lord hath spoken, we
will do, we will be obedient.
24:8. And he took the blood and sprinkled it upon the people, and he
said:  This is the blood of the covenant, which the Lord hath made with
you concerning all these words.
24:9. Then Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abiu, and seventy of the ancients
of Israel went up:
24:10. And they saw the God of Israel:  and under his feet as it were a
work of sapphire stone, and as the heaven, when clear.
24:11. Neither did he lay his hand upon those of the children of
Israel, that retired afar off, and they saw God, and they did eat and
24:12. And the Lord said to Moses:  Come up to me into the mount, and be
there; and I will give thee tables of stone, and the law, and the
commandments which I have written; that thou mayest teach them.
24:13. Moses rose up, and his minister Josue:  and Moses going up into
the mount of God,
24:14. Said to the ancients:  Wait ye here till we return to you.  You
have Aaron and Hur with you:  if any question shall arise, you shall
refer it to them.
24:15. And when Moses was gone up, a cloud covered the mount.
24:16. And the glory of the Lord dwelt upon Sinai, covering it with a
cloud six days:  and the seventh day he called him out of the midst of
24:17. And the sight of the glory of the Lord, was like a burning fire
upon the top of the mount, in the eyes of the children of Israel.
24:18. And Moses entering into the midst of the cloud, went up into the
mountain:  And he was there forty days and forty nights.
Exodus Chapter 25
Offerings prescribed for making the tabernacle, the ark, the
candlestick, etc.
25:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
25:2. Speak to the children of Israel, that they bring firstfruits to
me:  of every man that offereth of his own accord, you shall take them.
Firstfruits. . .Offerings of some of the best and choicest of their
25:3. And these are the things you must take:  Gold, and silver, and
25:4. Violet and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, and fine linen, and
goats' hair,
25:5. And rams' skins dyed red, and violet skins, and setim wood:
Setim wood. . .The wood of a tree that grows in the wilderness, which is
said to be incorruptible.
25:6. Oil to make lights:  spices for ointment, and for sweetsmelling
25:7. Onyx stones, and precious stones to adorn the ephod and the
The ephod and the rational. . .The ephod was the high priest's upper
vestment; and the rational his breastplate, in which were twelve gems,
25:8. And they shall make me a sanctuary, and I will dwell in the midst
25:9. According to all the likeness of the tabernacle which I will shew
thee, and of all the vessels for the service thereof:  and thus you
shall make it:
25:10. Frame an ark of setim wood, the length whereof shall be of two
cubits and a half; the breadth, a cubit and a half; the height,
likewise, a cubit and a half.
25:11. And thou shalt overlay it with the purest gold, within and
without; and over it thou shalt make a golden crown round about:
25:12. And four golden rings, which thou shalt put at the four corners
of the ark:  let two rings be on the one side, and two on the other.
25:13. Thou shalt make bars also of setim wood, and shalt overlay them
25:14. And thou shalt put them in through the rings that are in the
sides of the ark, that it may be carried on them:
25:15. And they shall be always in the rings, neither shall they at any
time be drawn out of them.
25:16. And thou shalt put in the ark the testimony which I will give
25:17. Thou shalt make also a propitiatory of the purest gold:  the
length thereof shall be two cubits and a half, and the breadth a cubit
A propitiatory. . .a covering for the ark:  called a propitiatory, or
mercy seat, because the Lord, who was supposed to sit there upon the
wings of the cherubims, with the ark for his footstool, from thence
shewed mercy.  It is also called the oracle, ver. 18 and 20; because
from thence God gave his orders and his answers.
25:18. Thou shalt make also two cherubims of beaten gold, on the two
sides of the oracle.
25:19. Let one cherub be on the one side, and the other on the other.
25:20. Let them cover both sides of the propitiatory, spreading their
wings, and covering the oracle, and let them look one towards the
other, their faces being turned towards the propitiatory wherewith the
ark is to be covered.
25:21. In which thou shalt put the testimony that I will give thee.
25:22. Thence will I give orders, and will speak to thee over the
propitiatory, and from the midst of the two cherubims, which shall be
upon the ark of the testimony, all things which I will command the
children of Israel by thee.
25:23. Thou shalt make a table also of setim wood, of two cubits in
length, and a cubit in breadth, and a cubit and a half in height.
A table. . .On which were to be placed the twelve loaves of proposition:
or, as they are called in the Hebrew, the face bread, because they were
always to stand before the face of the Lord in his temple:  as a figure
of the eucharistic sacrifice and sacrament, in the church of Christ.
25:24. And thou shalt overlay it with the purest gold:  and thou shalt
make to it a golden ledge round about.
25:25. And to the ledge itself a polished crown, four inches high; and
over the same another little golden crown.
25:26. Thou shalt prepare also four golden rings, and shalt put them in
the four corners of the same table, over each foot.
25:27. Under the crown shall the golden rings be, that the bars may be
put through them, and the table may be carried.
25:28. The bars also themselves thou shalt make of setim wood, and
shalt overlay them with gold, to bear up the table.
25:29. Thou shalt prepare also dishes, and bowls, censers, and cups,
wherein the libations are to be offered, of the purest gold.
Libations. . .That is, drink offerings.
25:30. And thou shalt set upon the table loaves of proposition in my
sight always.
25:31. Thou shalt make also a candlestick of beaten work, of the finest
gold, the shaft thereof, and the branches, the cups, and the bowls, and
the lilies going forth from it.
A candlestick. . .This candlestick, with its seven lamps, which was
always to give light in the house of God, was a figure of the light of
the Holy Ghost, and his sevenfold grace, in the sanctuary of the church
25:32. Six branches shall come out of the sides, three out of one side,
and three out of the other.
25:33. Three cups as it were nuts to every branch, and a bowl withal,
and a lily:  and three cups likewise of the fashion of nuts in the other
branch, and a bowl withal, and a lily.  Such shall be the work of the
six branches, that are to come out from the shaft:
25:34. And in the candlestick itself shall be four cups in the manner
of a nut, and at every one bowls and lilies.
25:35. Bowls under two branches in three places, which together make
six, coming forth out of one shaft.
25:36. And both the bowls and the branches shall be of the same beaten
work of the purest gold.
25:37. Thou shalt make also seven lamps, and shalt set them upon the
candlestick, to give light over against.
25:38. The snuffers also, and where the snuffings shall be put out,
shall be made of the purest gold.
25:39. The whole weight of the candlestick, with all the furniture
thereof, shall be a talent of the purest gold.
25:40. Look, and make it according to the pattern that was shewn thee
in the mount.
Exodus Chapter 26
The form of the tabernacle with its appurtenances.
26:1. And thou shalt make the tabernacle in this manner:  Thou shalt
make ten curtains of fine twisted linen, and violet and purple, and
scarlet twice dyed, diversified with embroidery.
26:2. The length of one curtain shall be twenty-eight cubits; the
breadth shall be four cubits.  All the curtains shall be of one measure.
26:3. Five curtains shall be joined one to another, and the other five
shall be coupled together in like manner.
26:4. Thou shalt make loops of violet in the sides and tops of the
curtains, that they may be joined one to another.
26:5. Every curtain shall have fifty loops on both sides, so set on,
that one loop may be against another loop, and one may be fitted to the
26:6. Thou shalt make also fifty rings of gold, wherewith the veils of
the curtains are to be joined, that it may be made one tabernacle.
26:7. Thou shalt make also eleven curtains of goats' hair, to cover the
top of the tabernacle.
26:8. The length of one hair-curtain shall be thirty cubits; and the
breadth, four:  the measure of all the curtains shall be equal.
26:9. Five of which thou shalt couple by themselves, and the six others
thou shalt couple one to another, so as to double the sixth curtain in
the front of the roof.
26:10. Thou shalt make also fifty loops in the edge of one curtain,
that it may be joined with the other:  and fifty loops in the edge of
the other curtain, that it may be coupled with its fellow.
26:11. Thou shalt make also fifty buckles of brass, wherewith the loops
may be joined, that of all there may be made one covering.
26:12. And that which shall remain of the curtains, that are prepared
for the roof, to wit, one curtain that is over and above, with the half
thereof thou shalt cover the back parts of the tabernacle.
26:13. And there shall hang down a cubit on the one side, and another
on the other side, which is over and above in the length of the
curtains, fencing both sides of the tabernacle.
26:14. Thou shalt make also another cover to the roof of rams' skins
dyed red:  and over that again another cover of violet coloured skins.
26:15. Thou shalt make also the boards of the tabernacle standing
upright of setim wood.
26:16. Let every one of them be ten cubits in length, and in breadth
one cubit and a half.
26:17. In the sides of the boards shall be made two mortises, whereby
one board may be joined to another board:  and after this manner shall
all the boards be prepared.
26:18. Of which twenty shall be in the south side southward.
26:19. For which thou shalt cast forty sockets of silver, that under
every board may be put two sockets at the two corners.
26:20. In the second side also of the tabernacle that looketh to the
north, there shall be twenty boards,
26:21. Having forty sockets of silver, two sockets shall be put under
26:22. But on the west side of the tabernacle thou shalt make six
26:23. And again other two which shall be erected in the corners at the
back of the tabernacle.
26:24. And they shall be joined together from beneath unto the top, and
one joint shall hold them all.  The like joining shall be observed for
the two boards also that are to be put in the corners.
26:25. And they shall be in all eight boards, and their silver sockets
sixteen, reckoning two sockets for each board.
26:26. Thou shalt make also five bars of setim wood, to hold together
the boards on one side of the tabernacle.
26:27. And five others on the other side, and as many at the west side:
26:28. And they shall be put along by the midst of the boards, from one
end to the other.
26:29. The boards also themselves thou shalt overlay with gold, and
shalt cast rings of gold to be set upon them, for places for the bars
to hold together the boardwork:  which bars thou shalt cover with plates
26:30. And thou shalt rear up the tabernacle according to the pattern
that was shewn thee in the mount.
26:31. Thou shalt make also a veil of violet, and purple, and scarlet
twice dyed, and fine twisted linen, wrought with embroidered work and
goodly variety:
26:32. And thou shalt hang it up before four pillars of setim wood,
which themselves also shall be overlaid with gold, and shall have heads
of gold, but sockets of silver.
26:33. And the veil shall be hanged on with rings, and within it thou
shalt put the ark of the testimony, and the sanctuary and the holy of
the holies shall be divided with it.
The sanctuary, etc. . .That part of the tabernacle, which was without
the veil, into which the priests daily entered, is here called the
sanctuary, or holy place; that part which was within the veil, into
which no one but the high priest ever went, and he but once a year, is
called the holy of holies, (literally, the sanctuary of the
sanctuaries,) as being the most holy of all holy places.
26:34. And thou shalt set the propitiatory upon the ark of the
testimony, in the holy of holies.
26:35. And the table without the veil, and over against the table the
candlestick in the south side of the tabernacle:  for the table shall
stand in the north side.
26:36. Thou shalt make also a hanging in the entrance of the tabernacle
of violet, and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, and fine twisted linen
with embroidered work.
26:37. And thou shalt overlay with gold five pillars of setim wood,
before which the hanging shall be drawn:  their heads shall be of gold,
and the sockets of brass.
Exodus Chapter 27
The altar; and the court of the tabernacle with its hangings and
pillars.  Provision of oil for lamps.
27:1. Thou shalt make also an altar of setim wood, which shall be five
cubits long, and as many broad, that is four square, and three cubits
27:2. And there shall be horns at the four corners of the same:  and
thou shalt cover it with brass.
27:3. And thou shalt make for the uses thereof pans to receive the
ashes, and tongs and fleshhooks, and firepans:  all its vessels thou
shalt make of brass.
27:4. And a grate of brass in manner of a net; at the four corners of
which, shall be four rings of brass,
27:5. Which thou shalt put under the hearth of the altar:  and the grate
shall be even to the midst of the altar.
27:6. Thou shalt make also two bars for the altar, of setim wood, which
thou shalt cover with plates of brass:
27:7. And thou shalt draw them through rings, and they shall be on both
sides of the altar to carry it.
27:8. Thou shalt not make it solid, but empty and hollow in the inside,
as it was shewn thee in the mount.
27:9. Thou shalt make also the court of the tabernacle, in the south
side whereof southward there shall be hangings of fine twisted linen of
a hundred cubits long for one side.
27:10. And twenty pillars with as many sockets of brass, the heads of
which, with their engraving, shall be of silver.
27:11. In like manner also on the north side there shall be hangings of
a hundred cubits long, twenty pillars, and as many sockets of brass,
and their heads with their engraving of silver.
27:12. But in the breadth of the court, that looketh to the west, there
shall be hangings of fifty cubits, and ten pillars, and as many
27:13. In that breadth also of the court, which looketh to the east,
there shall be fifty cubits.
27:14. In which there shall be for one side, hangings of fifteen
cubits, and three pillars, and as many sockets.
27:15. And in the other side, there shall be hangings of fifteen
cubits, with three pillars, and as many sockets.
27:16. And in the entrance of the court there shall be made a hanging
of twenty cubits of violet and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, and fine
twisted linen, with embroidered work:  it shall have four pillars, with
as many sockets.
27:17. All the pillars of the court round about shall be garnished with
plates of silver, silver heads, and sockets of brass.
27:18. In length the court shall take up a hundred cubits, in breadth
fifty, the height shall be of five cubits, and it shall be made of fine
twisted linen, and shall have sockets of brass.
27:19. All the vessels of the tabernacle for all uses and ceremonies,
and the pins both of it and of the court, thou shalt make of brass.
27:20. Command the children of Israel that they bring thee the purest
oil of the olives, and beaten with a pestle:  that a lamp may burn
27:21. In the tabernacle of the testimony, without the veil that hangs
before the testimony.  And Aaron and his sons shall order it, that it
may give light before the Lord until the morning.  It shall be a
perpetual observance throughout their successions among the children of
Exodus Chapter 28
The holy vestments for Aaron and his sons.
28:1. Take unto thee also Aaron thy brother with his sons, from among
the children of Israel, that they may minister to me in the priest's
office:  Aaron, Nadab, and Abiu, Eleazar, and Ithamar.
28:2. And thou shalt make a holy vesture for Aaron, thy brother, for
glory and for beauty.
28:3. And thou shalt speak to all the wise of heart, whom I have filled
with the spirit of wisdom, that they may make Aaron's vestments, in
which he being consecrated, may minister to me.
28:4. And these shall be the vestments that they shall make:  A rational
and an ephod, a tunic and a strait linen garment, a mitre and a girdle.
They shall make the holy vestments for thy brother Aaron and his sons,
that they may do the office of priesthood unto me.
28:5. And they shall take gold, and violet, and purple, and scarlet
twice dyed, and fine linen.
28:6. And they shall make the ephod of gold, and violet, and purple,
and scarlet twice dyed, and fine twisted linen, embroidered with divers
28:7. It shall have the two edges joined in the top on both sides, that
they may be closed together.
28:8. The very workmanship also, and all the variety of the work, shall
be of gold, and violet, and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, and fine
twisted linen.
28:9. And thou shalt take two onyx stones, and shalt grave on them the
names of the children of Israel:
28:10. Six names on one stone, and the other six on the other,
according to the order of their birth.
28:11. With the work of an engraver, and the graving of a jeweller,
thou shalt engrave them with the names of the children of Israel, set
in gold and compassed about:
28:12. And thou shalt put them in both sides of the ephod, a memorial
for the children of Israel.  And Aaron shall bear their names before the
Lord upon both shoulders, for a remembrance.
28:13. Thou shalt make also hooks of gold.
28:14. And two little chains of the purest gold, linked one to another,
which thou shalt put into the hooks.
28:15. And thou shalt make the rational of judgment with embroidered
work of divers colours, according to the workmanship of the ephod, of
gold, violet, and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, and fine twisted
The rational of judgment. . .This part of the priest's attire, which he
wore at his breast, was called the rational of judgment; partly because
it admonished both priest and people of their duty to God, by carrying
the names of all their tribes in his presence; and by the Urim and the
Thummim, that is, doctrine and truth, which were written upon it; and
partly because it gave divine answers and oracles, as if it were
rational and endowed with judgment.
28:16. It shall be four square and doubled:  it shall be the measure of
a span both in length and in breadth.
28:17. And thou shalt set in it four rows of stones .  In the first row
shall be a sardius stone, and a topaz, and an emerald:
28:18. In the second a carbuncle, a sapphire, and a jasper:
28:19. In the third a ligurius, an agate, and an amethyst:
28:20. In the fourth a chrysolite, an onyx, and a beryl.  They shall be
set in gold by their rows.
28:21. And they shall have the names of the children of Israel:  with
twelve names shall they be engraved, each stone with the name of one
according to the twelve tribes.
28:22. And thou shalt make on the rational chains, linked one to
another, of the purest gold:
28:23. And two rings of gold, which thou shalt put in the two ends at
the top of the rational.
28:24. And the golden chains thou shalt join to the rings, that are in
the ends thereof.
28:25. And the ends of the chains themselves, thou shalt join together
with two hooks, on both sides of the ephod, which is towards the
28:26. Thou shalt make also two rings of gold, which thou shalt put in
the top parts of the rational, in the borders that are over against the
ephod, and look towards the back parts thereof.
28:27. Moreover also other two rings of gold, which are to be set on
each side of the ephod beneath, that looketh towards the nether
joining, that the rational may be fitted with the ephod,
28:28. And may be fastened by the rings thereof unto the rings of the
ephod with a violet fillet, that the joining artificially wrought may
continue, and the rational and the ephod may not be loosed one from the
28:29. And Aaron shall bear the names of the children of Israel in the
rational of judgment upon his breast, when he shall enter into the
sanctuary, a memorial before the Lord for ever.
28:30. And thou shalt put in the rational of judgment doctrine and
truth, which shall be on Aaron's breast, when he shall go in before the
Lord:  and he shall bear the judgment of the children of Israel on his
breast, in the sight of the Lord always.
Doctrine and Truth. . .Hebrew, Urim and Thummim:  illuminations and
perfections.  These words, written on the rational, seem to signify the
light of doctrine and the integrity of life, with which the priests of
God ought to approach him.
28:31. And thou shalt make the tunic of the ephod all of violet,
28:32. In the midst whereof above shall be a hole for the head, and a
border round about it woven, as is wont to be made in the outmost parts
of garments, that it may not easily be broken.
28:33. And beneath at the feet of the same tunic, round about, thou
shalt make as it were pomegranates, of violet, and purple, and scarlet
twice dyed, with little bells set between:
28:34. So that there shall be a golden bell and a pomegranate, and
again another golden bell and a pomegranate.
28:35. And Aaron shall be vested with it in the office of his ministry,
that the sound may be heard, when he goeth in and cometh out of the
sanctuary, in the sight of the Lord, and that he may not die.
28:36. Thou shalt make also a plate of the purest gold:  wherein thou
shalt grave with engraver's work, Holy to the Lord.
28:37. And thou shalt tie it with a violet fillet, and it shall be upon
28:38. Hanging over the forehead of the high priest.  And Aaron shall
bear the iniquities of those things, which the children of Israel have
offered and sanctified, in all their gifts and offerings.  And the plate
shall be always on his forehead, that the Lord may be well pleased with
28:39. And thou shalt gird the tunic with fine linen, and thou shalt
make a fine linen mitre, and a girdle of embroidered work.
28:40. Moreover, for the sons of Aaron thou shalt prepare linen tunics,
and girdles and mitres for glory and beauty:
28:41. And with all these things thou shalt vest Aaron thy brother, and
his sons with him.  And thou shalt consecrate the hands of them all, and
shalt sanctify them, that they may do the office of priesthood unto me.
28:42. Thou shalt make also linen breeches, to cover the flesh of their
nakedness, from the reins to the thighs:
28:43. And Aaron and his sons shall use them when they shall go into
the tabernacle of the testimony, or when they approach to the altar to
minister in the sanctuary.  lest being guilty of iniquity they die.  It
shall be a law for ever to Aaron, and to his seed after him.
Exodus Chapter 29
The manner of consecrating Aaron and other priests; the institution of
the daily sacrifice of two lambs, one in the morning, the other at
29:1. And thou shalt also do this, that they may be consecrated to me
in priesthood.  Take a calf from the herd, and two rams without blemish,
29:2. And unleavened bread, and a cake without leaven, tempered with
oil, wafers also unleavened, anointed with oil:  thou shalt make them
all of wheaten flour.
29:3. And thou shalt put them in a basket, and offer them:  and the calf
and the two rams.
29:4. And thou shalt bring Aaron and his sons to the door of the
tabernacle of the testimony.  And when thou hast washed the father and
his sons with water,
29:5. Thou shalt clothe Aaron with his vestments, that is, with the
linen garment and the tunic, and the ephod and the rational, which thou
shalt gird with the girdle.
29:6. And thou shalt put the mitre upon his head, and the holy plate
upon the mitre,
29:7. And thou shalt pour the oil of unction upon his head:  and by this
rite shall he be consecrated.
29:8. Thou shalt bring his sons also, and shalt put on them the linen
tunics, and gird them with a girdle:
29:9. To wit, Aaron and his children, and thou shalt put mitres upon
them; and they shall be priests to me by a perpetual ordinance.  After
thou shalt have consecrated their hands,
29:10. Thou shalt present also the calf before the tabernacle of the
testimony.  And Aaron and his sons shall lay their hands upon his head,
29:11. And thou shalt kill him in the sight of the Lord, beside the
door of the tabernacle of the testimony.
29:12. And taking some of the blood of the calf, thou shalt put it upon
the horns of the altar with thy finger, and the rest of the blood thou
shalt pour at the bottom thereof.
29:13. Thou shalt take also all the fat that covereth the entrails, and
the caul of the liver, and the two kidneys, and the fat that is upon
them, and shalt offer a burn offering upon the altar:
29:14. But the flesh of the calf, and the hide and the dung, thou shalt
burn abroad, without the camp, because it is for sin.
29:15. Thou shalt take also one ram, upon the head whereof Aaron and
his sons shall lay their hands.
29:16. And when thou hast killed him, thou shalt take of the blood
thereof, and pour round about the altar.
29:17. And thou shalt cut the ram in pieces, and having washed his
entrails and feet, thou shalt put them upon the flesh that is cut in
pieces, and upon his head.
29:18. And thou shalt offer the whole ram for a burnt offering upon the
altar:  it is an oblation to the Lord, a most sweet savour of the victim
of the Lord.
29:19. Thou shalt take also the other ram, upon whose head Aaron and
his sons shall lay their hands.
29:20. And when thou hast sacrificed him, thou shalt take of his blood,
and put upon the tip of the right ear of Aaron and of his sons, and
upon the thumbs and great toes of their right hand and foot, and thou
shalt pour the blood upon the altar round about.
29:21. And when thou hast taken of the blood that is upon the altar,
and of the oil of unction, thou shalt sprinkle Aaron and his vesture,
his sons and their vestments.  And after they and their vestments are
consecrated,
29:22. Thou shalt take the fat of the ram, and the rump, and the fat
that covereth the lungs, and the caul of the liver, and the two
kidneys, and the fat that is upon them, and the right shoulder, because
it is the ram of consecration:
29:23. And one roll of bread, a cake tempered with oil, a wafer out of
the basket of unleavened bread, which is set in the sight of the Lord:
29:24. And thou shalt put all upon the hands of Aaron and of his sons,
and shalt sanctify them elevating before the Lord.
29:25. And thou shalt take all from their hands; and shalt burn them
upon the altar for a holocaust, a most sweet savour in the sight of the
Lord, because it is his oblation.
29:26. Thou shalt take also the breast of the ram, wherewith Aaron was
consecrated, and elevating it thou shalt sanctify it before the Lord,
and it shall fall to thy share.
29:27. And thou shalt sanctify both the consecrated breast, and the
shoulder that thou didst separate of the ram,
29:28. Wherewith Aaron was consecrated and his sons, and they shall
fall to Aaron's share, and his sons', by a perpetual right from the
children of Israel:  because they are the choicest and the beginnings of
their peace victims which they offer to the Lord.
29:29. And the holy vesture, which Aaron shall use, his sons shall have
after him, that they may be anointed, and their hands consecrated in
29:30. He of his sons that shall be appointed high priest in his stead,
and that shall enter into the tabernacle of the testimony to minister
in the sanctuary, shall wear it seven days.
29:31. And thou shalt take the ram of the consecration, and shalt boil
the flesh thereof in the holy place:
29:32. And Aaron and his sons shall eat it.  The loaves also, that are
in the basket, they shall eat in the entry of the tabernacle of the
29:33. That it may be an atoning sacrifice, and the hands of the
offerers may be sanctified.  A stranger shall not eat of them, because
they are holy.
29:34. And if there remain of the consecrated flesh, or of the bread,
till the morning, thou shalt burn the remainder with fire:  they shall
not be eaten, because they are sanctified.
29:35. All that I have commanded thee, thou shalt do unto Aaron and his
sons.  Seven days shalt thou consecrate their hands:
29:36. And thou shalt offer a calf for sin every day for expiation.  And
thou shalt cleanse the altar when thou hast offered the victim of
expiation, and shalt anoint it to sanctify it.
29:37. Seven days shalt thou expiate the altar and sanctify it, and it
shall be most holy.  Every one, that shall touch it, shall be holy.
29:38. This is what thou shalt sacrifice upon the altar:  Two lambs of a
year old every day continually,
29:39. One lamb in the morning, and another in the evening.
29:40. With one lamb a tenth part of flour tempered with beaten oil, of
the fourth part of a hin, and wine for libation of the same measure.
29:41. And the other lamb thou shalt offer in the evening, according to
the rite of the morning oblation, and according to what we have said,
for a savour of sweetness:
29:42. It is a sacrifice to the Lord, by perpetual oblation unto your
generations, at the door of the tabernacle of the testimony before the
Lord, where I will appoint to speak unto thee.
29:43. And there will I command the children of Israel, and the altar
shall be sanctified by my glory.
29:44. I will sanctify also the tabernacle of the testimony with the
altar, and Aaron with his sons, to do the office of priesthood unto me.
29:45. And I will dwell in the midst of the children of Israel, and
will be their God:
29:46. And they shall know that I am the Lord their God, who have
brought them out of the land of Egypt, that I might abide among them, I
the Lord their God.
Exodus Chapter 30
The altar of incense:  money to be gathered for the use of the
tabernacle:  the brazen laver:  the holy oil of unction, and the
composition of the perfume.
30:1. Thou shalt make also an altar to burn incense, of setim wood.
An altar to burn incense. . .This burning of incense was an emblem of
prayer, ascending to God from an inflamed heart.  See Ps. 140.2; Apoc.
5.8, and 8.4.
30:2. It shall be a cubit in length, and another in breadth, that is,
four square, and two in height.  Horns shall go out of the same.
30:3. And thou shalt overlay it with the purest gold, as well the grate
thereof, as the walls round about, and the horns.  And thou shalt make
to it a crown of gold round about,
30:4. And two golden rings under the crown on either side, that the
bars may be put into them, and the altar be carried.
30:5. And thou shalt make the bars also of setim wood, and shalt
overlay them with gold.
30:6. And thou shalt set the altar over against the veil, that hangeth
before the ark of the testimony before the propitiatory wherewith the
testimony is covered, where I will speak to thee.
30:7. And Aaron shall burn sweet smelling incense upon it in the
morning.  When he shall dress the lamps, he shall burn it:
30:8. And when he shall place them in the evening, he shall burn an
everlasting incense before the Lord throughout your generations.
30:9. You shall not offer upon it incense of another composition, nor
oblation, and victim, neither shall you offer libations.
30:10. And Aaron shall pray upon the horns thereof once a year, with
the blood of that which was offered for sin; and shall make atonement
upon it in your generations.  It shall be most holy to the Lord.
30:11. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
30:12. When thou shalt take the sum of the children of Israel,
according to their number, every one of them shall give a price for
their souls to the Lord, and there shall be no scourge among them, when
they shall be reckoned.
30:13. And this shall every one give that passeth at the naming, half a
sicle according to the standard of the temple.  A sicle hath twenty
obols.  Half a sicle shall be offered to the Lord.
Half a sicle. . .A sicle or shekel of silver, (which was also called a
stater,) according to the standard or weight of the sanctuary, which
was the most just and exact, was half an ounce of silver, that is,
about half a crown of English money.  The obol, or gerah, was about
three halfpence.
30:14. He that is counted in the number from twenty years and upwards,
shall give the price.
30:15. The rich man shall not add to half a sicle, and the poor man
shall diminish nothing.
30:16. And the money received, which was contributed by the children of
Israel, thou shalt deliver unto the uses of the tabernacle of the
testimony, that it may be a memorial of them before the Lord, and he
may be merciful to their souls.
30:17. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
30:18. Thou shalt make also a brazen laver with its foot to wash in:
and thou shalt set it between the tabernacle of the testimony and the
altar.  And water being put into it:
30:19. Aaron and his sons shall wash their hands and feet in it:
30:20. When they are going into the tabernacle of the testimony, and
when they are to come to the altar, to offer on it incense to the Lord,
30:21. Lest perhaps they die.  It shall be an everlasting law to him,
and to his seed by successions.
30:22. And the Lord spoke to Moses,
30:23. Saying:  Take spices, of principal and chosen myrrh five hundred
sicles, and of cinnamon half so much; that is, two hundred and fifty
sicles, of calamus in like manner two hundred and fifty,
30:24. And of cassia five hundred sicles by the weight of the
sanctuary, of oil of olives the measure hin:
30:25. And thou shalt make the holy oil of unction, an ointment
compounded after the art of the perfumer,
30:26. And therewith thou shalt anoint the tabernacle of the testimony,
and the ark of the testament,
30:27. And the table with the vessels thereof, the candlestick and
furniture thereof, the altars of incense,
30:28. And of holocaust, and all the furniture that belongeth to the
service of them.
30:29. And thou shalt sanctify all, and they shall be most holy:  he
that shall touch them shall be sanctified.
30:30. Thou shalt anoint Aaron and his sons, and shalt sanctify them,
that they may do the office of priesthood unto me.
30:31. And thou shalt say to the children of Israel:  This oil of
unction shall be holy unto me throughout your generations.
30:32. The flesh of man shall not be anointed therewith, and you shall
make none other of the same composition, because it is sanctified, and
shall be holy unto you.
30:33. What man soever shall compound such, and shall give thereof to a
stranger, he shall be cut off from his people.
30:34. And the Lord said to Moses:  Take unto thee spices, stacte, and
onycha, galbanum of sweet savour, and the clearest frankincense, all
shall be of equal weight.
30:35. And thou shalt make incense compounded by the work of the
perfumer, well tempered together, and pure, and most worthy of
sanctification.
30:36. And when thou hast beaten all into very small powder, thou shalt
set of it before the tabernacle of the testimony, in the place where I
will appear to thee.  Most holy shall this incense be unto you.
30:37. You shall not make such a composition for your own uses, because
it is holy to the Lord.
30:38. What man soever shall make the like, to enjoy the smell thereof,
he shall perish out of his people.
Exodus Chapter 31
Beseleel and Ooliab are appointed by the Lord to make the tabernacle,
and the things belonging thereto.  The observation of the sabbath day is
again commanded.  And the Lord delivereth to Moses two tables written
with the finger of God.
31:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
31:2. Behold, I have called by name Beseleel the son of Uri, the son of
Hur, of the tribe of Juda,
31:3. And I have filled him with the spirit of God, with wisdom and
understanding, and knowledge in all manner of work,
31:4. To devise whatsoever may be artificially made of gold, and
silver, and brass,
31:5. Of marble, and precious stones, and variety of wood.
31:6. And I have given him for his companion Ooliab, the son of
Achisamech, of the tribe of Dan.  And I have put wisdom in the heart of
every skilful man, that they may make all things which I have commanded
31:7. The tabernacle of the covenant, and the ark of the testimony, and
the propitiatory, that is over it, and all the vessels of the
31:8. And the table and the vessels thereof, the most pure candlestick
with the vessels thereof, and the altars of incense,
31:9. And of holocaust, and all their vessels, the laver with its foot,
31:10. The holy vestments in the ministry for Aaron the priest, and for
his sons, that they may execute their office, about the sacred things:
31:11. The oil of unction, and the incense of spices in the sanctuary,
all things which I have commanded thee, shall they make.
31:12. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
31:13. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  See
that you keep my sabbath; because it is a sign between me and you in
your generations that you may know that I am the Lord, who sanctify
31:14. keep you my sabbath:  for it is holy unto you:  he that shall
profane it, shall be put to death:  he that shall do any work in it, his
soul shall perish out of the midst of his people.
31:15. Six days shall you do work:  in the seventh day is the sabbath,
the rest holy to the Lord.  Every one that shall do any work on this
day, shall die.
31:16. Let the children of Israel keep the sabbath, and celebrate it in
their generations.  It is an everlasting covenant
31:17. Between me and the children of Israel, and a perpetual sign.  For
in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, and in the seventh he
ceased from work.
31:18. And the Lord, when he had ended these words in Mount Sinai, gave
to Moses two stone tables of testimony, written with the finger of God.
Exodus Chapter 32
The people fall into idolatry.  Moses prayeth for them.  He breaketh the
tables:  destroyeth the idol:  blameth Aaron, and causeth many of the
idolaters to be slain.
32:1. And the people seeing that Moses delayed to come down from the
mount, gathering together against Aaron, said:  Arise, make us gods,
that may go before us:  For as to this Moses, the man that brought us
out of the land of Egypt, we know not what has befallen him.
32:2. And Aaron said to them:  Take the golden earrings from the ears of
your wives, and your sons and daughters, and bring them to me.
32:3. And the people did what he had commanded, bringing the earrings
32:4. And when he had received them, he fashioned them by founders'
work, and made of them a molten calf.  And they said:  These are thy
gods, O Israel, that have brought thee out of the land of Egypt.
32:5. And when Aaron saw this, he built an altar before it, and made
proclamation by a crier's voice, saying To morrow is the solemnity of
32:6. And rising in the morning, they offered holocausts, and peace
victims, and the people sat down to eat and drink, and they rose up to
32:7. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:  Go, get thee down:  thy
people, which thou hast brought out of the land of Egypt, hath sinned.
32:8. They have quickly strayed from the way which thou didst shew
them:  and they have made to themselves a molten calf, and have adored
it, and sacrificing victims to it, have said:  These are thy gods, O
Israel, that have brought thee out of the land of Egypt.
32:9. And again the Lord said to Moses:  I see that this people is
stiffnecked:
32:10. Let me alone, that my wrath may be kindled against them, and
that I may destroy them, and I will make of thee a great nation.
32:11. But Moses besought the Lord his God, saying:  Why, O Lord, is thy
indignation enkindled against thy people, whom thou hast brought out of
the land of Egypt, with great power, and with a mighty hand?
32:12. Let not the Egyptians say, I beseech thee:  He craftily brought
them out, that he might kill them in the mountains, and destroy them
from the earth:  let thy anger cease, and be appeased upon the
wickedness of thy people.
32:13. Remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, thy servants, to whom thou
sworest by thy own self, saying:  I will multiply your seed as the stars
of heaven:  and this whole land that I have spoken of, I will give to
your seed, and you shall possess it for ever:
32:14. And the Lord was appeased from doing the evil which he had
spoken against his people.
32:15. And Moses returned from the mount, carrying the two tables of
the testimony in his hand, written on both sides,
32:16. And made by the work of God; the writing also of God was graven
in the tables.
32:17. And Josue hearing the noise of the people shouting, said to
Moses:  The noise of battle is heard in the camp.
32:18. But he answered:  It is not the cry of men encouraging to fight,
nor the shout of men compelling to flee:  but I hear the voice of
32:19. And when he came nigh to the camp, he saw the calf, and the
dances:  and being very angry, he threw the tables out of his hand, and
broke them at the foot of the mount:
32:20. And laying hold of the calf which they had made, he burnt it,
and beat it to powder, which he strewed into water, and gave thereof to
the children of Israel to drink.
32:21. And he said to Aaron:  What has this people done to thee, that
thou shouldst bring upon them a most heinous sin?
32:22. And he answered him:  Let not my lord be offended; for thou
knowest this people, that they are prone to evil.
32:23. They said to me:  make us gods, that may go before us; for as to
this Moses, who brought us forth out of the land of Egypt, we know not
what is befallen him.
32:24. And I said to them:  Which of you hath any gold?  and they took
and brought it to me; and I cast it into the fire, and this calf came
32:25. And when Moses saw that the people were naked, (for Aaron had
stripped them by occasion of the shame of the filth, and had set them
naked among their enemies)
Naked. . .Having lost not only their gold, and their honour, but what
was worst of all, being stripped also of the grace of God, and having
lost him.--The shame of the filth. . .That is, of the idol, which they
had taken for their god.  It is the usual phrase of the scripture to
call idols filth and abominations.
32:26. Then standing in the gate of the camp, he said:  If any man be on
the Lord's side, let him join with me.  And all the sons of Levi
gathered themselves together unto him:
32:27. And he said to them:  Thus saith the Lord God of Israel:  Put
every man his sword upon his thigh:  go, and return from gate to gate
through the midst of the camp, and let every man kill his brother, and
friend, and neighbour.
32:28. And the sons of Levi did according to the words of Moses, and
there were slain that day about three and twenty thousand men.
32:29. And Moses said:  You have consecrated your hands this day to the
Lord, every man in his son and in his brother, that a blessing may be
given to you.
32:30. And when the next day was come, Moses spoke to the people:  You
have sinned a very great sin:  I will go up to the Lord, if by any means
I may be able to entreat him for your crime.
32:31. And returning to the Lord, he said:  I beseech thee:  this people
hath sinned a heinous sin, and they have made to themselves gods of
gold:  either forgive them this trespass,
32:32. Or if thou do not, strike me out of the book that thou hast
32:33. And the Lord answered him:  He that hath sinned against me, him
will I strike out of my book:
32:34. But go thou, and lead this people whither I have told thee:  my
angel shall go before thee.  And I in the day of revenge will visit this
sin also of theirs.
32:35. The Lord therefore struck the people for the guilt, on occasion
of the calf which Aaron had made.
Exodus Chapter 33
The people mourn for their sin.  Moses pitcheth the tabernacle without
the camp.  He converseth familiarly with God.  Desireth to see his glory.
33:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:  Go, get thee up from this
place, thou and thy people which thou hast brought out of the land of
Egypt, into the land concerning which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob, saying:  To thy seed I will give it:
33:2. And I will send an angel before thee, that I may cast out the
Chanaanite, and the Amorrhite, and the Hethite, and the Pherezite, and
the Hevite, and the Jebusite,
33:3. That thou mayst enter into the land that floweth with milk and
honey.  For I will not go up with thee, because thou art a stiffnecked
people; lest I destroy thee in the way.
33:4. And the people hearing these very bad tidings, mourned:  and no
man put on his ornaments according to custom.
33:5. And the Lord said to Moses:  Say to the children of Israel:  Thou
art a stiffnecked people, once I shall come up in the midst of thee,
and shall destroy thee.  Now presently lay aside thy ornaments, that I
may know what to do to thee.
33:6. So the children of Israel laid aside their ornaments by Mount
33:7. Moses also taking the tabernacle, pitched it without the camp
afar off, and called the name thereof, The tabernacle of the covenant.
And all the people, that had any question, went forth to the tabernacle
of the covenant, without the camp.
33:8. And when Moses went forth to the tabernacle, all the people rose
up, and every one stood in the door of his pavilion, and they beheld
the back of Moses, till he went into the tabernacle.
33:9. And when he was gone into the tabernacle of the covenant, the
pillar of the cloud came down, and stood at the door, and he spoke with
33:10. And all saw that the pillar of the cloud stood at the door of
the tabernacle.  And they stood and worshipped at the doors of their
33:11. And the Lord spoke to Moses face to face, as a man is wont to
speak to his friend.  And when he returned into the camp, his servant
Josue, the son of Nun, a young man, departed not from the tabernacle.
Face to face. . .That is, in a most familiar manner.  Though as we learn
from this very chapter, Moses could not see the face of the Lord.
33:12. And Moses said to the Lord:  Thou commandest me to lead forth
this people; and thou dost not let me know whom thou wilt send with me,
especially whereas thou hast said:  I know thee by name, and thou hast
found favour in my sight.
I know thee by name. . .In the language of the scriptures, God is said
to know such as he approves and loves:  and to know by name, those whom
he favours in a most singular manner, as he did his servant Moses.
33:13. If therefore I have found favour in thy sight, shew me thy face,
that I may know thee, and may find grace before thy eyes:  look upon thy
people this nation.
33:14. And the Lord said:  My face shall go before thee, and I will give
33:15. And Moses said:  If thou thyself dost not go before, bring us not
out of this place.
33:16. For how shall we be able to know, I and thy people, that we have
found grace in thy sight, unless thou walk with us, that we may be
glorified by all people that dwell upon the earth?
33:17. And the Lord said to Moses:  This word also, which thou hast
spoken, will I do; for thou hast found grace before me, and thee I have
known by name.
33:18. And he said:  Shew me thy glory.
33:19. He answered:  I will shew thee all good, and I will proclaim in
the name of the Lord before thee:  and I will have mercy on whom I will,
and I will be merciful to whom it shall please me.
33:20. And again he said:  Thou canst not see my face:  for man shall not
see me, and live.
33:21. And again he said:  Behold there is a place with me, and thou
shalt stand upon the rock.
33:22. And when my glory shall pass, I will set thee in a hole of the
rock, and protect thee with my righthand till I pass:
33:23. And I will take away my hand, and thou shalt see my back parts:
but my face thou canst not see.
See my back parts. . .The Lord by his angel, usually spoke to Moses in
the pillar of the cloud; so that he could not see the glory of him that
spoke familiarly with him.  In the vision here mentioned he was allowed
to see something of him, in an assumed corporeal form:  not in the face,
the rays of which were too bright for mortal eye to bear, but to view
him as it were behind, when his face was turned from him.
Exodus Chapter 34
The tables are renewed:  all society with the Chanaanites is forbid:
some precepts concerning the firstborn, the sabbath, and other feasts:
after forty days' fast, Moses returneth to the people with the
commandments, and his face appearing horned with rays of light, he
covereth it, whensoever he speaketh to the people.
34:1. And after this he said:  Hew thee two tables of stone like unto
the former, and I will write upon them the words, which were in the
tables, which thou brokest.
34:2. Be ready in the morning, that thou mayst forthwith go up into
Mount Sinai, and thou shalt stand with me upon the top of the mount.
34:3. Let no man go up with thee, and let not any man be seen
throughout all the mount; neither let the oxen nor the sheep feed over
34:4. Then he cut out two tables of stone, such as had been before; and
rising very early he went up into the Mount Sinai, as the Lord had
commanded him, carrying with him the tables.
34:5. And when the Lord was come down in a cloud, Moses stood with him,
calling upon the name of the Lord.
34:6. And when he passed before him, he said:  O the Lord, the Lord God,
merciful and gracious, patient and of much compassion, and true,
34:7. Who keepest mercy unto thousands:  who takest away iniquity, and
wickedness, and sin, and no man of himself is innocent before thee.  Who
renderest the iniquity of the fathers to the children, and to the
grandchildren unto the third and fourth generation.
34:8. And Moses making haste, bowed down prostrate unto the earth, and
34:9. Said:  If I have found grace in thy sight, O Lord, I beseech thee
that thou wilt go with us, (for it is a stiffnecked people) and take
away our iniquities and sin, and possess us.
34:10. The Lord answered:  I will make a covenant in the sight of all, I
will do signs such as were never seen upon the earth, nor in any
nations; that this people, in the midst of whom thou art, may see the
terrible work of the Lord which I will do.
34:11. Observe all things which this day I command thee:  I myself will
drive out before thy face the Amorrhite, and the Chanaanite, and the
Hethite, and the Pherezite, and the Hevite, and the Jebusite.
34:12. Beware thou never join in friendship with the inhabitants of
that land, which may be thy ruin:
34:13. But destroy their altars, break their statues and cut down their
34:14. Adore not any strange god.  The Lord his name is jealous, he is a
jealous God.
34:15. Make no covenant with the men of those countries; lest, when
they have committed fornication with their gods, and have adored their
idols, some one call thee to eat of the things sacrificed.
34:16. Neither shalt thou take of their daughters a wife for thy son,
lest after they themselves have committed fornication, they make thy
sons also to commit fornication with their gods.
34:17. Thou shalt not make to thyself any molten gods.
34:18:  Thou shalt keep the feast of the unleavened bread.  Seven days
shalt thou eat unleavened bread, as I commanded thee in the time of the
month of the new corn:  for in the month of the spring time thou camest
out from Egypt.
34:19. All of the male kind that openeth the womb, shall be mine.  Of
all beasts; both of oxen and of sheep, it shall be mine.
34:20. The firstling of an ass thou shalt redeem with a sheep:  but if
thou wilt not give a price for it, it shall be slain.  The firstborn of
thy sons thou shalt redeem:  neither shalt thou appear before me empty.
34:21. Six days shalt thou work, the seventh day thou shalt cease to
plough and to reap.
34:22. Thou shalt keep the feast of weeks with the firstfruits of the
corn of thy wheat harvest, and the feast when the time of the year
returneth that all things are laid in.
34:23. Three times in the year all thy males shall appear in the sight
of the almighty Lord the God of Israel.
34:24. For when I shall have taken away the nations from thy face, and
shall have enlarged thy borders, no man shall lie in wait against thy
land when thou shalt go up, and appear in the sight of the Lord thy God
thrice in a year.
34:25. Thou shalt not offer the blood of my sacrifice upon leaven;
neither shall there remain in the morning any thing of the victim of
the solemnity of the Phase.
34:26. The first of the fruits of thy ground thou shalt offer in the
house of the Lord thy God.  Thou shalt not boil a kid in the milk of his
34:27. And the Lord said to Moses:  Write thee these words, by which I
have made a covenant both with thee and with Israel.
34:28. And he was there with the Lord forty days and forty nights:  he
neither ate bread nor drank water, and he wrote upon the tables the ten
words of the covenant.
34:29. And when Moses came down from the Mount Sinai, he held the two
tables of the testimony, and he knew not that his face was horned from
the conversation of the Lord.
Horned. . .That is, shining, and sending forth rays of light like horns.
34:30. And Aaron and the children of Israel seeing the face of Moses
horned, were afraid to come near.
34:31. And being called by him, they returned, both Aaron and the
rulers of the congregation.  And after that he spoke to them,
34:32. And all the children of Israel came to him:  and he gave them in
commandment all that he had heard of the Lord on Mount Sinai.
34:33. And having done speaking, he put a veil upon his face.
34:34. But when he went in to the Lord, and spoke with him, he took it
away until he came forth, and then he spoke to the children of Israel
all things that had been commanded him.
34:35. And they saw that the face of Moses when he came out was horned,
but he covered his face again, if at any time he spoke to them.
Exodus Chapter 35
The sabbath.  Offerings for making the tabernacle.  Beseleel and Ooliab
are called to the work.
35:1. And all the multitude of the children of Israel being gathered
together, he said to them:  These are the things which the Lord hath
commanded to be done:
35:2. Six days you shall do work; the seventh day shall be holy unto
you, the sabbath and the rest of the Lord:  he that shall do any work on
it, shall be put to death.
35:3. You shall kindle no fire in any of your habitations on the
sabbath day.
35:4. And Moses said to all the assembly of the children of Israel:
This is the word the Lord hath commanded, saying:
35:5. Set aside with you firstfruits to the Lord.  Let every one that is
willing and hath a ready heart, offer them to the Lord:  gold, and
silver, and brass,
35:6. Violet and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, and fine linen, goats'
35:7. And rams' skins dyed red, and violet coloured skins, setim wood,
35:8. And oil to maintain lights, and to make ointment, and most sweet
35:9. Onyx stones, and precious stones, for the adorning of the ephod
and the rational.
35:10. Whosoever of you is wise, let him come, and make that which the
Lord hath commanded:
35:11. To wit, the tabernacle, and the roof thereof, and the cover, the
rings, and the board-work with the bars, the pillars and the sockets:
35:12. The ark and the staves, the propitiatory, and the veil that is
drawn before it:
35:13. The table with the bars and the vessels, and the loaves of
proposition:
35:14. The candlestick to bear up the lights, the vessels thereof and
the lamps, and the oil for the nourishing of fires:
35:15. The altar of incense, and the bars, and the oil of unction, and
the incense of spices:  the hanging at the door of the tabernacle:
35:16. The altar of holocaust, and its grate of brass, with the bars
and vessels thereof:  the laver and its foot:
35:17. The curtains of the court, with the pillars and the sockets, the
hanging in the doors of the entry.
35:18. The pins of the tabernacle, and of the court, with their little
35:19. The vestments that are to be used in the ministry of the
sanctuary, the vesture of Aaron the high priest, and of his sons, to do
the office of priesthood to me.
35:20. And all the multitude of the children of Israel going out from
the presence of Moses,
35:21. Offered firstfruits to the Lord with a most ready and devout
mind, to make the work of the tabernacle of the testimony.  Whatever was
necessary to the service and to the holy vestments,
35:22. Both men and women gave bracelets and earrings, rings and
tablets:  every vessel of gold was set aside to be offered to the Lord.
35:23. If any man had violet, and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, fine
linen and goats' hair, ramskins dyed red, and violet coloured skins,
35:24. Metal of silver and brass, they offered it to the Lord, and
setim wood for divers uses.
35:25. The skilful women also gave such things as they had spun,
violet, purple, and scarlet, and fine linen,
35:26. And goats' hair, giving all of their own accord.
35:27. But the princes offered onyx stones, and precious stones, for
the ephod and the rational,
35:28. And spices and oil for the lights, and for the preparing of
ointment, and to make the incense of most sweet savour.
35:29. All, both men and women, with devout mind offered gifts, that
the works might be done which the Lord had commanded by the hand of
Moses.  All the children of Israel dedicated voluntary offerings to the
35:30. And Moses said to the children of Israel:  Behold, the Lord hath
called by name Beseleel, the son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe
35:31. And hath filled him with the spirit of God, with wisdom and
understanding, and knowledge, and all learning,
35:32. To devise and to work in gold and silver and brass,
35:33. And in engraving stones, and in carpenters' work.  Whatsoever can
be devised artificially,
35:34. He hath given in his heart:  Ooliab also, the son of Achisamech,
of the tribe of Dan:
35:35. Both of them hath he instructed with wisdom, to do carpenters'
work, and tapestry, and embroidery in blue and purple, and scarlet
twice dyed, and fine linen, and to weave all things, and to invent all
Exodus Chapter 36
The offerings are delivered to the workmen, the curtains, coverings,
boards, bars, veil, pillars, and hanging are made.
36:1. Beseleel therefore, and Ooliab, and every wise man, to whom the
Lord gave wisdom and understanding, to know how to work artificially,
made the things that are necessary for the uses of the sanctuary, and
which the Lord commanded.
36:2. And when Moses had called them, and every skilful man, to whom
the Lord had given wisdom, and such as of their own accord had offered
themselves to the making of the work,
36:3. He delivered all the offerings of the children of Israel unto
them.  And while they were earnest about the work, the people daily in
the morning offered their vows.
36:4. Whereupon the workmen being constrained to come,
36:5. Said to Moses:  The people offereth more than is necessary.
36:6. Moses therefore commanded proclamation to be made by the crier's
voice:  Let neither man nor woman offer any more for the work of the
sanctuary.  And so they ceased from offering gifts,
36:7. Because the things that were offered did suffice, and were too
36:8. And all the men that were wise of heart, to accomplish the work
of the tabernacle, made ten curtains of twisted fine linen, and violet,
and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, with varied work, and the art of
embroidering:
36:9. The length of one curtain was twenty-eight cubits, and the
breadth four:  all the curtains were of the same size.
36:10. And he joined five curtains, one to another, and the other five
he coupled one to another.
36:11. He made also loops of violet in the edge of one curtain on both
sides, and in the edge of the other curtain in like manner,
36:12. That the loops might meet one against another, and might be
joined each with the other.
36:13. Whereupon also he cast fifty rings of gold, that might catch the
loops of the curtains, and they might be made one tabernacle.
36:14. He made also eleven curtains of goats' hair, to cover the roof
of the tabernacle:
36:15. One curtain was thirty cubits long, and four cubits broad:  all
the curtains were of one measure.
36:16. Five of which he joined apart, and the other six apart.
36:17. And he made fifty loops in the edge of one curtain, and fifty in
the edge of another curtain, that they might be joined one to another.
36:18. And fifty buckles of brass wherewith the roof might be knit
together, that of all the curtains there might be made one covering.
36:19. He made also a cover for the tabernacle of rams' skins dyed red;
and another cover over that of violet skins.
36:20. He made also the boards of the tabernacle of setim wood
36:21. The length of one board was ten cubits; and the breadth was one
cubit and a half.
36:22. There were two mortises throughout every board, that one might
be joined to the other.  And in this manner he made for all the boards
of the tabernacle.
36:23. Of which twenty were at the south side southward,
36:24. With forty sockets of silver, two sockets were put under one
board on the two sides of the corners, where the mortises of the sides
end in the corners.
36:25. At that side also of the tabernacle, that looketh towards the
north, he made twenty boards,
36:26. With forty sockets of silver, two sockets for every board.
36:27. But against the west, to wit, at that side of the tabernacle,
which looketh to the sea, he made six boards,
36:28. And two others at each corner of the tabernacle behind:
36:29. Which were also joined from beneath unto the top, and went
together into one joint.  Thus he did on both sides at the corners:
36:30. So there were in all eight boards, and they had sixteen sockets
of silver, to wit, two sockets under every board.
36:31. He made also bars of setim wood, five to hold together the
boards of one side of the tabernacle,
36:32. And five others to join together the boards of the other side;
and besides these, five other bars at the west side of the tabernacle
towards the sea.
36:33. He made also another bar, that might come by the midst of the
boards from corner to corner.
36:34. And the boards themselves he overlaid with gold casting for them
sockets of silver.  And their rings he made of gold, through which the
bars might be drawn:  and he covered the bars themselves with plates of
36:35. He made also a veil of violet, and purple, scarlet and fine
twisted linen, varied and distinguished with embroidery:
36:36. And four pillars of setim wood, which with their heads he
overlaid with gold, casting for them sockets of silver.
36:37. He made also a hanging in the entry of the tabernacle of violet,
purple, scarlet, and fine twisted linen, with the work of an
embroiderer.
36:38. And five pillars with their heads, which he covered with gold,
and their sockets he cast of brass.
Exodus Chapter 37
Beseleel maketh the ark:  the propitiatory, and cherubims, the table,
the candlestick, the lamps, and the altar of incense, and compoundeth
the incense.
37:1. And Beseleel made also, the ark of setim wood:  it was two cubits
and a half in length, and a cubit and a half in breadth, and the height
was of one cubit and a half:  and he overlaid it with the purest gold
within and without.
37:2. And he made to it a crown of gold round about,
37:3. Casting four rings of gold at the four corners thereof:  two rings
in one side, and two in the other.
37:4. And he made bars of setim wood, which he overlaid with gold,
37:5. And he put them into the rings that were at the sides of the ark
to carry it.
37:6. He made also the propitiatory, that is, the oracle, of the purest
gold, two cubits and a half in length, and a cubit and a half in
37:7. Two cherubims also of beaten gold, which he set on the two sides
of the propitiatory:
37:8. One cherub in the top of one side, and the other cherub in the
top of the other side:  two cherubims at the two ends of the
propitiatory,
37:9. Spreading their wings, and covering the propitiatory, and looking
one towards the other, and towards it.
37:10. He made also the table of setim wood, in length two cubits, and
in breadth one cubit, and in height it was a cubit and a half.
37:11. And he overlaid it with the finest gold, and he made to it a
golden ledge round about,
37:12. And to the ledge itself he made a polished crown of gold, of
four fingers breadth, and upon the same another golden crown.
37:13. And he cast four rings of gold, which he put in the four corners
at each foot of the table,
37:14. Over against the crown:  and he put the bars into them, that the
table might be carried.
37:15. The bars also themselves he made of setim wood, and overlaid
them with gold.
37:16. And the vessels for the divers uses of the table, dishes, bowls,
and cups, and censers of pure gold, wherein the libations are to be
37:17. He made also the candlestick of beaten work of the finest gold.
from the shaft whereof its branches, its cups, and bowls, and lilies
37:18:  Six on the two sides:  three branches on one side, and three on
37:19. Three cups in manner of a nut on each branch, and bowls withal
and lilies:  and three cups of the fashion of a nut in another branch,
and bowls withal and lilies.  The work of the six branches, that went
out from the shaft of the candlestick was equal.
37:20. And in the shaft itself were four cups after the manner of a
nut, and bowls withal at every one, and lilies:
37:21. And bowls under two branches in three places, which together
made six branches going out from one shaft.
37:22. So both the bowls, and the branches were of the same, all beaten
work of the purest gold.
37:23. He made also the seven lamps with their snuffers, and the
vessels where the snuffings were to be put out, of the purest gold.
37:24. The candlestick with all the vessels thereof weighed a talent of
37:25. He made also the alter of incense of setim wood, being a cubit
on every side foursquare, and in height two cubits:  from the corners of
which went out horns.
37:26. And he overlaid it with the purest gold, with its grate, and the
sides, and the horns.
37:27. And he made to it a crown of gold round about, and two golden
rings under the crown at each side, that the bars might be put into
them, and the altar be carried.
37:28. And the bars themselves he made also of setim wood, and overlaid
them with plates of gold.
37:29. He compounded also the oil for the ointment of sanctification,
and incense of the purest spices, according to the work of a perfumer.
Exodus Chapter 38
He maketh the altar of holocaust.  The brazen laver.  The court with its
pillars and hangings.  The sum of what the people offered.
38:1. He made also the altar of holocaust of setim wood, five cubits
square, and three in height:
38:2. The horns whereof went out from the corners, and he overlaid it
with plates of brass.
38:3. And for the uses thereof, he prepared divers vessels of brass,
cauldrons, tongs, fleshhooks, pothooks and firepans.
38:4. And he made the grate thereof of brass, in manner of a net, and
under it in the midst of the altar a hearth,
38:5. Casting four rings at the four ends of the net at the top, to put
in bars to carry it:
38:6. And he made the bars of setim wood, and overlaid them with plates
38:7. And he drew them through the rings that stood out in the sides of
the altar.  And the altar itself was not solid, but hollow, of boards,
and empty within.
38:8. He made also the laver of brass, with the foot thereof, of the
mirrors of the women that watched at the door of the tabernacle.
38:9. He made also the court, in the south side whereof were hangings
of fine twisted linen of a hundred cubits.
38:10. Twenty pillars of brass with their sockets, the beads of the
pillars, and the whole graving of the work, of silver.
38:11. In like manner at the north side the hangings, the pillars, and
the sockets and heads of the pillars were of the same measure, and work
38:12. But on that side that looketh to the west, there were hangings
of fifty cubits, ten pillars of brass with their sockets, and the heads
of the pillars, and all the graving of the work, of silver.
38:13. Moreover, towards the east he prepared hangings of fifty cubits:
38:14. Fifteen cubits of which, were on one side with three pillars,
and their sockets:
38:15. And on the other side (for between the two he made the entry of
the tabernacle) there were hangings equally of fifteen cubits, and
three pillars, and as many sockets.
38:16. All the hangings of the court were woven with twisted linen.
38:17. The sockets of the pillars were of brass, and their heads with
all their gravings of silver:  and he overlaid the pillars of the court
also with silver.
38:18. And he made in the entry thereof an embroidered hanging of
violet, purple, scarlet, and fine twisted linen, that was twenty cubits
long, and five cubits high, according to the measure of all the
hangings of the court.
38:19. And the pillars in the entry were four, with sockets of brass,
and their heads and gravings of silver.
38:20. The pins also of the tabernacle and of the court round about he
made of brass.
38:21. These are the instruments of the tabernacle of the testimony,
which were counted according to the commandment of Moses, in the
ceremonies of the Levites, by the hand of Ithamar, son of Aaron the
38:22. Which Beseleel, the son of Uri, the son of Hur of the tribe of
Juda, had made, as the Lord commanded by Moses.
38:23. Having for his companion Ooliab, the son of Achisamech, of the
tribe of Dan:  who also was an excellent artificer in wood, and worker
in tapestry and embroidery in violet, purple, scarlet, and fine linen.
38:24. All the gold that was spent in the work of the sanctuary, and
that was offered in gifts, was nine and twenty talents, and seven
hundred and thirty sicles according to the standard of the sanctuary.
38:25. And it was offered by them that went to be numbered, from twenty
years old and upwards, of six hundred and three thousand five hundred
and fifty men able to bear arms.
38:26. There were moreover a hundred talents of silver, whereof were
cast the sockets of the sanctuary, and of the entry where the veil
38:27. A hundred sockets were made of a hundred talents, one talent
being reckoned for every socket.
38:28. And of the thousand seven hundred and seventy-five he made the
heads of the pillars, which also he overlaid with silver.
38:29. And there were offered of brass also seventy-two thousand
talents, and four hundred sicles besides,
38:30. Of which were cast the sockets in the entry of the tabernacle of
the testimony, and the altar of brass with the grate thereof, and also
the vessels that belong to the use thereof.
38:31. And the sockets of the court as well round about as in the entry
thereof, and the pins of the tabernacle, and of the court round about.
Exodus Chapter 39
All the ornaments of Aaron and his sons are made.  And the whole work of
the tabernacle is finished.
39:1. And he made, of violet and purple, scarlet and fine linen, the
vestments for Aaron to wear when he ministered in the holy places, as
the Lord commanded Moses.
39:2. So he made an ephod of gold, violet, and purple, and scarlet
twice dyed, and fine twisted linen,
39:3. With embroidered work, and he cut thin plates of gold, and drew
them small into threads, that they might be twisted with the woof of
the foresaid colours,
39:4. And two borders coupled one to the other in the top on either
39:5. And a girdle of the same colours, as the Lord had commanded
39:6. He prepared also two onyx stones, fast set and closed in gold,
and graven, by the art of a lapidary, with the names of the children of
39:7. And he set them in the sides of the ephod, for a memorial of the
children of Israel, as the Lord had commanded Moses.
39:8. He made also a rational with embroidered work, according to the
work of the ephod, of gold, violet, purple, and scarlet twice dyed, and
fine twisted linen:
39:9. Foursquare, double, of the measure of a span.
39:10. And he set four rows of precious stones in it.  In the first row
was a sardius, a topaz, an emerald.
39:11. In the second, a carbuncle, a sapphire, and a jasper.
39:12. In the third, a ligurius, an agate, and an amethyst.
39:13. In the fourth, a chrysolite, an onyx, and a beryl, set and
enclosed in gold by their rows.
39:14. And the twelve stones, were engraved with the names of the
twelve tribes of Israel, each one with its several name.
39:15. They made also in the rational little chains, linked one to
another, of the purest gold,
39:16. And two hooks, and as many rings of gold.  And they set the rings
on either side of the rational,
39:17. On which rings the two golden chains should hang, which they put
into the hooks that stood out in the corners of the ephod.
39:18. These both before and behind so answered one another, that the
ephod and the rational were bound together,
39:19. Being fastened to the girdle, and strongly coupled with rings,
which a violet fillet joined, lest they should flag loose, and be moved
one from the other, as the Lord commanded Moses.
39:20. They made also the tunic of the ephod all of violet,
39:21. And a hole for the head in the upper part at the middle, and a
woven border round about the hole:
39:22. And beneath at the feet pomegranates of violet, purple, scarlet,
and fine twisted linen:
39:23. And little bells of the purest gold, which they put between the
pomegranates at the bottom of the tunic round about:
39:24. To wit, a bell of gold, and a pomegranate, wherewith the high
priest went adorned, when he discharged his ministry, as the Lord had
commanded Moses.
39:25. They made also fine linen tunics with woven work for Aaron and
39:26. And mitres with their little crowns of fine linen:
39:27. And linen breeches of fine linen:
39:28. And a girdle of fine twisted linen, violet, purple, and scarlet
twice dyed, of embroidery work, as the Lord had commanded Moses.
39:29. They made also the plate of sacred veneration of the purest
gold, and they wrote on it with the engraving of a lapidary:  The Holy
of the Lord:
39:30. And they fastened it to the mitre with a violet fillet, as the
Lord had commanded Moses.
39:31. So all the work of the tabernacle and of the roof of the
testimony was finished:  and the children of Israel did all things which
the Lord had commanded Moses.
39:32. And they offered the tabernacle, and the roof, and the whole
furniture, the rings, the boards, the bars, the pillars and their
39:33. The cover of rams' skins dyed red, and the other cover of violet
39:34. The veil, the ark, the bars, the propitiatory,
39:35. The table, with the vessels thereof, and the loaves of
proposition:
39:36. The candlestick, the lamps, and the furniture of them, with the
39:37. The altar of gold, and the ointment, and the incense of spices:
39:38. And the hanging in the entry of the tabernacle:
39:39. The altar of brass, the grate, the bars, and all the vessels
thereof:  the laver, with the foot thereof:  the hangings of the court,
and the pillars, with their sockets:
39:40. The hanging in the entry of the court, and the little cords, and
the pins thereof.  Nothing was wanting of the vessels, that were
commanded to be made for the ministry of the tabernacle, and for the
roof of the covenant.
39:41. The vestments also, which the priests, to wit, Aaron and his
sons, use in the sanctuary,
39:42. The children of Israel offered, as the Lord had commanded.
39:43. And when Moses saw all things finished, he blessed them.
Exodus Chapter 40
The tabernacle is commanded to be set up and anointed.  God filleth it
with his majesty.
40:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
40:2. The first month, the first day of the month, thou shalt set up
the tabernacle of the testimony,
40:3. And shalt put the ark in it, and shalt let down the veil before
40:4. And thou shalt bring in the table, and set upon it the things
that are commanded according to the rite.  The candlestick shall stand
with its lamps,
40:5. And the altar of gold, whereon the incense is burnt before the
ark of the testimony.  Thou shalt put the hanging in the entry of the
40:6. And before it the altar of holocaust.
40:7. The laver between the altar and the tabernacle, and thou shalt
fill it with water.
40:8. And thou shalt encompass the court with hangings, and the entry
40:9. And thou shalt take the oil of unction and anoint the tabernacle
with its vessels, that they may be sanctified:
40:10. The altar of holocaust and all its vessels:
40:11. The laver with its foot:  thou shalt consecrate all with the oil
of unction, that they may be most holy.
40:12. And thou shalt bring Aaron and his sons to the door of the
tabernacle of the testimony, and having washed them with water,
40:13. Thou shalt put on them the holy vestments, that they may
minister to me, and that the unction of them may prosper to an
everlasting priesthood.
40:14. And Moses did all that the Lord had commanded.
40:15. So in the first month of the second year, the first day of the
month, the tabernacle was set up.
40:16. And Moses reared it up, and placed the boards and the sockets
and the bars, and set up the pillars,
40:17. And spread the roof over the tabernacle, putting over it a
cover, as the Lord had commanded.
40:18. And he put the testimony in the ark, thrusting bars underneath,
and the oracle above.
40:19. And when he had brought the ark into the tabernacle, he drew the
veil before it to fulfil the commandment of the Lord.
40:20. And he set the table in the tabernacle of the testimony, at the
north side, without the veil,
40:21. Setting there in order the loaves of proposition, as the Lord
had commanded Moses.
40:22. He set the candlestick also in the tabernacle of the testimony,
over against the table on the south side,
40:23. Placing the lamps in order, according to the precept of the
40:24. He set also the altar of gold under the roof of the testimony,
over against the veil,
40:25. And burnt upon it the incense of spices, as the Lord had
commanded Moses.
40:26. And he put also the hanging in the entry of the tabernacle of
the testimony,
40:27. And the altar of holocaust in the entry of the testimony,
offering the holocaust, and the sacrifices upon it, as the Lord had
40:28. And he set the laver between the tabernacle of the testimony and
the altar, filling it with water.
40:29. And Moses and Aaron, and his sons, washed their hands and feet,
40:30. When they went into the tabernacle of the covenant, and went to
the altar, as the Lord had commanded Moses.
40:31. He set up also the court round about the tabernacle and the
altar, drawing the hanging in the entry thereof.  After all things were
40:32. The cloud covered the tabernacle of the testimony, and the glory
of the Lord filled it.
40:33. Neither could Moses go into the tabernacle of the covenant, the
cloud covering all things, and the majesty of the Lord shining, for the
cloud had covered all.
40:34. If at any time the cloud removed from the tabernacle, the
children of Israel went forward by their troops:
40:35. If it hung over, they remained in the same place.
40:36. For the cloud of the Lord hung over the tabernacle by day, and a
fire by night, in the sight of all the children of Israel throughout
all their mansions.
THE BOOK OF LEVITICUS
This Book is called LEVITICUS, because it treats of the Offices,
Ministries, Rites and Ceremonies of the Priests and Levites.  The
Hebrews call it VAICRA, from the word with which it begins.
Leviticus Chapter 1
Of holocausts or burnt offerings.
1:1. And the Lord called Moses, and spoke to him from the tabernacle of
the testimony, saying:
1:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  The
man among you that shall offer to the Lord a sacrifice of the cattle,
that is, offering victims of oxen and sheep:
1:3. If his offering be a holocaust, and of the herd, he shall offer a
male without blemish, at the door of the testimony, to make the Lord
favourable to him.
A holocaust. . .That is, a whole burnt offering (olokauston), so called,
because the whole victim was consumed with fire; and given in such
manner to God as wholly to evaporate, as it were, for his honour and
glory; without having any part of it reserved for the use of man.  The
other sacrifices in the Old Testament were either offerings for sin, or
peace offerings:  and these latter again were either offered in
thanksgiving for blessings received; or by way of prayer for new
favours or graces.  So that sacrifices were then offered to God for four
different ends or intentions, answerable to the different obligations
which man has to God:  1. By way of adoration, homage, praise, and glory
due to his divine majesty.  2. By way of thanksgiving for all benefits
received from him.  3. By way of confessing and craving pardon for sins.
4. By way of prayer and petition for grace and relief in all
necessities.  In the New Law we have but one sacrifice, viz., that of
the body and blood of Christ:  but this one sacrifice of the New
Testament perfectly answers all these four ends; and both priest and
people, as often as it is celebrated, ought to join in offering it up
for these four ends.
1:4. And he shall put his hand upon the head of the victim:  and it
shall be acceptable, and help to its expiation.
1:5. And he shall immolate the calf before the Lord:  and the priests
the sons of Aaron shall offer the blood thereof, pouring it round about
the altar, which is before the door of the tabernacle.
1:6. And when they have flayed the victim, they shall cut the joints
into pieces:
1:7. And shall put fire on the altar, having before laid in order a
pile of wood.
1:8. And they shall lay the parts that are cut out in order thereupon:
to wit, the head, and all things that cleave to the liver;
1:9. The entrails and feet being washed with water.  And the priest
shall burn them upon the altar for a holocaust, and a sweet savour to
1:10. And if the offering be of the flocks, a holocaust of sheep or of
goats, he shall offer a male without blemish.
1:11. And he shall immolate it at the side of the altar that looketh to
the north, before the Lord:  but the sons of Aaron shall pour the blood
thereof upon the altar round about.
1:12. And they shall divide the joints, the head, and all that cleave
to the liver:  and shall lay them upon the wood, under which the fire is
1:13. But the entrails and the feet they shall wash with water.  And the
priest shall offer it all and burn it all upon the altar for a
holocaust, and most sweet savour to the Lord.
1:14. But if the oblation of a holocaust to the Lord be of birds, of
turtles, or of young pigeons:
1:15. The priest shall offer it at the altar:  and twisting back the
neck, and breaking the place of the wound, he shall make the blood run
down upon the brim of the altar.
1:16. But the crop of the throat, and the feathers he shall cast beside
the altar at the east side, in the place where the ashes are wont to be
1:17. And he shall break the pinions thereof, and shall not cut, nor
divide it with a knife:  and shall burn it upon the altar, putting fire
under the wood.  It is a holocaust and oblation of most sweet savour to
Leviticus Chapter 2
Of offerings of flour, and firstfruits.
2:1. When any one shall offer an oblation of sacrifice to the Lord, his
offering shall be of fine flour:  and he shall pour oil upon it, and put
frankincense,
2:2. And shall bring it to the sons of Aaron the priests.  And one of
them shall take a handful of the flour and oil, and all the
frankincense; and shall put it a memorial upon the altar for a most
sweet savour to the Lord.
2:3. And the remnant of the sacrifice shall be Aaron's, and his sons',
holy of holies of the offerings of the Lord.
Holy of holies. . .That is, most holy, as being dedicated to God, and
set aside by his ordinance for the use of his priests.
2:4. But when thou offerest a sacrifice baked in the oven of flour, to
wit, loaves without leaven, tempered with oil, and unleavened wafers,
anointed with oil:
2:5. If thy oblation be from the fryingpan, of flour tempered with oil,
and without leaven:
2:6. Thou shalt divide it into little pieces, and
shalt pour oil upon it.
2:7. And if the sacrifice be from the gridiron, in like manner the
flour shall be tempered with oil.
2:8. And when thou offerest it to the Lord, thou shalt deliver it to
the hands of the priest.
2:9. And when he hath offered it, he shall take a memorial out of the
sacrifice, and burn it upon the altar for a sweet savour to the Lord.
2:10. And whatsoever is left, shall be Aaron's, and his sons':  holy of
holies of the offerings of the Lord.
2:11. Every oblation that is offered to the Lord shall be made without
leaven:  neither shall any leaven or honey be burnt in the sacrifice to
Without leaven or honey. . .No leaven nor honey was to be used in the
sacrifice offered to God; to signify that we are to exclude from the
pure worship of the gospel, all double dealing and affection to carnal
2:12. You shall offer only the firstfruits of them and gifts:  but they
shall not be put upon the altar, for a savour of sweetness.
2:13. Whatsoever sacrifice thou offerest, thou shalt season it with
salt:  neither shalt thou take away the salt of the covenant of thy God
from thy sacrifice.  In all thy oblations thou shalt offer salt.
Salt. . .In every sacrifice salt was to be used, which is an emblem of
wisdom and discretion, without which none of our performances are
agreeable to God.
2:14. But if thou offer a gift of the firstfruits of thy corn to the
Lord, of the ears yet green, thou shalt dry it at the fire, and break
it small like meal; and so shalt thou offer thy firstfruits to the
2:15. Pouring oil upon it and putting on frankincense, because it is
the oblation of the Lord.
2:16. Whereof the priest shall burn for a memorial of the gift, part of
the corn broken small and of the oil, and all the frankincense.
Leviticus Chapter 3
Of peace offerings.
3:1. And if his oblation be a sacrifice of peace offerings, and he will
offer of the herd, whether male or female:  he shall offer them without
blemish before the Lord.
Peace offerings. . .Peace, in the scripture language, signifies
happiness, welfare or prosperity; in a word, all kind of
blessings.--Such sacrifices, therefore, as were offered either on
occasion of blessings received, or to obtain new favours, were called
pacific or peace offerings.  In these, some part of the victim was
consumed with fire on the altar of God; other parts were eaten by the
priests and by the persons for whom the sacrifice was offered.
3:2. And he shall lay his hand upon the head of his victim, which shall
be slain in the entry of the tabernacle of the testimony:  and the sons
of Aaron the priests shall pour the blood round about upon the altar.
3:3. And they shall offer of the sacrifice of peace offerings, for an
oblation to the Lord:  the fat that covereth the entrails, and all the
fat that is within,
3:4. The two kidneys with the fat wherewith the flanks are covered, and
the caul of the liver with the two little kidneys.
3:5. And they shall burn them upon the altar, for a holocaust, putting
fire under the wood:  for an oblation of most sweet savour to the Lord.
3:6. But if his oblation and the sacrifice of peace offering be of the
flock, whether he offer male or female, they shall be without blemish.
3:7. If he offer a lamb before the Lord:
3:8. He shall put his hand upon the head of the victim.  And it shall be
slain in the entry of the tabernacle of the testimony:  and the sons of
Aaron shall pour the blood thereof round about upon the altar.
3:9. And they shall offer of the victim of peace offerings, a sacrifice
to the Lord:  the fat and the whole rump,
3:10. With the kidneys, and the fat that covereth the belly and all the
vitals and both the little kidneys, with the fat that is about the
flanks, and the caul of the liver with the little kidneys.
3:11. And the priest shall burn them upon the altar, for the food of
the fire, and of the oblation of the Lord.
3:12. If his offering be a goat, and he offer it to the Lord:
3:13. He shall put his hand upon the head thereof:  and shall immolate
it in the entry of the tabernacle of the testimony.  And the sons of
Aaron shall pour the blood thereof round about upon the altar.
3:14. And they shall take of it for the food of the Lord's fire, the
fat that covereth the belly, and that covereth all the vital parts:
3:15. The two little kidneys with the caul that is upon them which is
by the flanks, and the fat of the liver with the little kidneys.
3:16. And the priest shall burn them upon the altar, for the food of
the fire, and of a most sweet savour.  All the fat shall be the Lord's.
3:17. By a perpetual law for your generations, and in all your
habitations:  neither blood nor fat shall you eat at all.
Fat. . .It is meant of the fat, which by the prescription of the law was
to be offered on God's altar; not of the fat of meat, such as we
commonly eat.
Leviticus Chapter 4
Of offerings for sins of ignorance.
4:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
4:2. Say to the children of Israel:  The soul that sinneth through
ignorance, and doth any thing concerning any of the commandments of the
Lord, which he commanded not to be done:
Ignorance. . .To be ignorant of what we are bound to know is sinful; and
for such culpable ignorance, these sacrifices, prescribed in this and
the following chapter, were appointed.
4:3. If the priest that is anointed shall sin, making the people to
offend, he shall offer to the Lord for his sin a calf without blemish.
4:4. And he shall bring it to the door of the testimony before the
Lord:  and shall put his hand upon the head thereof, and shall sacrifice
it to the Lord.
4:5. He shall take also of the blood of the calf:  and carry it into the
tabernacle of the testimony.
The blood. . .As the figure of the blood of Christ shed for the
remission of our sins, and carried by him into the sanctuary of heaven.
4:6. And having dipped his finger in the blood, he shall sprinkle with
it seven times before the Lord, before the veil of the sanctuary.
4:7. And he shall put some of the same blood upon the horns of the
altar of the sweet incense most acceptable to the Lord, which is in the
tabernacle of the testimony.  And he shall pour all the rest of the
blood at the foot of the altar of holocaust in the entry of the
4:8. And he shall take off the fat of the calf for the sin offering, as
well that which covereth the entrails, as all the inwards:
4:9. The two little kidneys, and the caul that is upon them, which is
by the flanks, and the fat of the liver with the little kidneys:
4:10. As it is taken off from the calf of the sacrifice of peace
offerings.  And he shall burn them upon the altar of holocaust.
4:11. But the skin and all the flesh with the head and the feet and the
bowels and the dung:
4:12. And the rest of the body, he shall carry forth without the camp
into a clean place where the ashes are wont to be poured out:  and he
shall burn them upon a pile of wood.  They shall be burnt in the place
where the ashes are poured out.
4:13. And if all the multitude of Israel shall be ignorant, and through
ignorance shall do that which is against the commandment of the Lord,
4:14. And afterwards shall understand their sin:  they shall offer for
their sin a calf, and shall bring it to the door of the tabernacle.
4:15. And the ancients of the people shall put their hands upon the
head thereof before the Lord.  And the calf being immolated in the sight
of the Lord:
4:16. The priest that is anointed shall carry of the blood into the
tabernacle of the testimony.
4:17. And shall dip his finger in it and sprinkle it seven times before
4:18. And he shall put of the same blood on the horns of the altar that
is before the Lord, in the tabernacle of the testimony.  And the rest of
the blood he shall pour at the foot of the altar of holocaust, which is
at the door of the tabernacle of the testimony.
4:19. And all the fat thereof he shall take off, and shall burn it upon
4:20. Doing so with this calf, as he did also with that before.  And the
priest praying for them, the Lord will be merciful unto them.
4:21. But the calf itself he shall carry forth without the camp, and
shall burn it as he did the former calf:  because it is for the sin of
the multitude.
4:22. If a prince shall sin, and through ignorance do any one of the
things that the law of the Lord forbiddeth,
4:23. And afterwards shall come to know his sin:  he shall offer a buck
goat without blemish, a sacrifice to the Lord.
4:24. And he shall put his hand upon the head thereof:  and when he hath
immolated it in the place where the holocaust is wont to be slain
before the Lord, because it is for sin,
4:25. The priest shall dip his finger in the blood of the victim for
sin, touching therewith the horns of the altar of holocaust, and
pouring out the rest at the foot thereof.
4:26. But the fat he shall burn upon it, as is wont to be done with the
victims of peace offerings.  And the priest shall pray for him, and for
his sin:  and it shall be forgiven him.
4:27. And if any one of the people of the land shall sin through
ignorance, doing any of those things that by the law of the Lord are
forbidden, and offending,
4:28. And shall come to know his sin:  he shall offer a she goat without
4:29. And he shall put his hand upon the head of the victim that is for
sin:  and shall immolate it in the place of the holocaust.
4:30. And the priest shall take of the blood with his finger, and shall
touch the horns of the altar of holocaust:  and shall pour out the rest
at the foot thereof.
4:31. But taking off all the fat, as is wont to be taken away of the
victims of peace offerings, he shall burn it upon the altar, for a
sweet savour to the Lord:  and he shall pray for him, and it shall be
forgiven him.
4:32. But if he offer of the flock a victim for his sin, to wit, an ewe
without blemish:
4:33. He shall put his hand upon the head thereof, and shall immolate
it in the place where the victims of holocausts are wont to be slain.
4:34. And the priest shall take of the blood thereof with his finger,
and shall touch the horns of the altar of holocaust:  and the rest he
shall pour out at the foot thereof.
4:35. All the fat also he shall take off, as the fat of the ram that is
offered for peace offerings is wont to be taken away:  and shall burn it
upon the altar, for a burnt sacrifice of the Lord.  And he shall pray
for him and his sin, and it shall be forgiven him.
Leviticus Chapter 5
Of other sacrifices for sins.
5:1. If any one sin, and hear the voice of one swearing, and is a
witness either because he himself hath seen, or is privy to it:  if he
do not utter it, he shall bear his iniquity.
5:2. Whosoever toucheth any unclean thing, either that which hath been
killed by a beast, or died of itself, or any other creeping thing:  and
forgetteth his uncleanness, he is guilty, and hath offended.
5:3. And if he touch any thing of the uncleanness of man, according to
any uncleanness wherewith he is wont to be defiled:  and having
forgotten it, come afterwards to know it, he shall be guilty of an
5:4. The person that sweareth, and uttereth with his lips, that he
would do either evil or good, and bindeth the same with an oath, and
his word:  and having forgotten it afterwards understandeth his offence,
5:5. Let him do penance for his sin:
5:6. And offer of the flocks an ewe lamb, or a she goat, and the priest
shall pray for him and for his sin.
5:7. But if he be not able to offer a beast, let him offer two turtles,
or two young pigeons to the Lord, one for sin, and the other for a
5:8. And he shall give them to the priest:  who shall offer the first
for sin, and twist back the head of it to the little pinions, so that
it stick to the neck, and be not altogether broken off.
5:9. And of its blood he shall sprinkle the side of the altar:  and
whatever is left, he shall let it drop at the bottom thereof, because
it is for sin.
5:10. And the other he shall burn for a holocaust, as is wont to be
done.  And the priest shall pray for him, and for his sin, and it shall
be forgiven him.
5:11. And if his hand be not able to offer two turtles, or two young
pigeons, he shall offer for his sin the tenth part of an ephi of flour.
He shall not put oil upon it, nor put any frankincense thereon, because
it is for sin.
5:12. And he shall deliver it to the priest, who shall take a handful
thereof, and shall burn it upon the altar for a memorial of him that
5:13. Praying for him and making atonement.  But the part that is left,
he himself shall have for a gift.
5:14. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
5:15. If any one shall sin through mistake, transgressing the
ceremonies in those things that are sacrificed to the Lord, he shall
offer for his offence a ram without blemish out of the flocks, that may
be bought for two sicles, according to the weight of the sanctuary.
5:16. And he shall make good the damage itself which he hath done, and
shall add the fifth part besides, delivering it to the priest, who
shall pray for him, offering the ram:  and it shall be forgiven him.
5:17. If any one sin through ignorance, and do one of those things
which by the law of the Lord are forbidden, and being guilty of sin,
understand his iniquity:
5:18. He shall offer of the flocks a ram without blemish to the priest,
according to the measure and estimation of the sin.  And the priest
shall pray for him, because he did it ignorantly:  And it shall be
forgiven him,
5:19. Because by mistake he trespassed against the Lord.
Leviticus Chapter 6
Oblation for sins of injustice:  ordinances concerning the holocausts
and the perpetual fire:  the sacrifices of the priests, and the sin
6:1. The Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
6:2. Whosoever shall sin, and despising the Lord, shall deny to his
neighbour the thing delivered to his keeping, which was committed to
his trust; or shall by force extort any thing, or commit oppression;
6:3. Or shall find a thing lost, and denying it, shall also swear
falsely, or shall do any other of the many things, wherein men are wont
6:4. Being convicted of the offence, he shall restore
6:5. All that he would have gotten by fraud, in the principal, and the
fifth part besides, to the owner, whom he wronged.
6:6. Moreover for his sin he shall offer a ram without blemish out of
the flock:  and shall give it to the priest, according to the estimation
and measure of the offence.
6:7. And he shall pray for him before the Lord:  and he shall have
forgiveness for every thing in doing of which he bath sinned.
6:8. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
6:9. Command Aaron and his sons:  This is the law of a holocaust.  It
shall be burnt upon the altar, all night until morning:  the fire shall
be of the same altar.
6:10. The priest shall be vested with the tunick and the linen
breeches; and he shall take up the ashes of that which the devouring
fire hath burnt:  and putting them beside the altar,
6:11. Shall put off his former vestments, and being clothed with
others, shall carry them forth without the camp, and shall cause them
to be consumed to dust in a very clean place.
6:12. And the fire on the altar shall always burn, and the priest shall
feed it, putting wood on it every day in the morning:  and laying on the
holocaust, shall burn thereupon the fat of the peace offerings.
6:13. This is the perpetual fire which shall never go out on the altar.
The perpetual fire. . .This fire came from heaven, (infra. chap. 9.24,)
and was always kept burning on the altar, as a figure of the heavenly
fire of divine love, which ought to be always burning in the heart of a
6:14. This is the law of the sacrifice and libations, which the
children of Aaron shall offer before the Lord, and before the altar.
6:15. The priest shall take a handful of the flour that is tempered
with oil, and all the frankincense that is put upon the flour:  and he
shall burn on the altar for a memorial of most sweet odour to the Lord.
6:16. And the part of the flour that is left, Aaron and his sons shall
eat, without leaven:  and he shall eat it in the holy place of the court
of the tabernacle.
6:17. And therefore it shall not be leavened, because part thereof is
offered for the burnt sacrifice of the Lord.  It shall be most holy, as
that which is offered for sin and for trespass.
6:18. The males only of the race of Aaron shall eat it.  It shall be an
ordinance everlasting in your generations concerning the sacrifices of
the Lord:  Every one that toucheth them shall be sanctified.
6:19. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
6:20. This is the oblation of Aaron, and of his sons, which they must
offer to the Lord, in the day of their anointing.  They shall offer the
tenth part of an ephi of flour for a perpetual sacrifice, half of it in
the morning, and half of it in the evening.
6:21. It shall be tempered with oil, and shall be fried in a fryingpan.
6:22. And the priest that rightfully succeedeth his father, shall offer
it hot, for a most sweet odour to the Lord:  and it shall he wholly
burnt on the altar.
6:23. For every sacrifice of the priest shall be consumed with fire:
neither shall any man eat thereof.
6:24. And the Lord spoke to Moses.  saying:
6:25. Say to Aaron and his sons:  This is the law of the victim for sin.
In the place where the holocaust is offered, it shall be immolated
before the Lord.  It is holy of holies.
6:26. The priest that offereth it, shall eat it in a holy place, in the
court of the tabernacle.
6:27. Whatsoever shall touch the flesh thereof, shall be sanctified.  If
a garment be sprinkled with the blood thereof, it shall be washed in a
6:28. And the earthen vessel, wherein it was sodden, shall be broken:
but if the vessel be of brass, it shall be scoured, and washed with
6:29. Every male of the priestly race shall eat of the flesh thereof,
because it is holy of holies.
6:30. For the victim that is slain for sin, the blood of which is
carried into the tabernacle of the testimony to make atonement in the
sanctuary, shall not be eaten, but shall be burnt with fire.
Leviticus Chapter 7
Of sacrifices for trespasses and thanks offerings.  No fat nor blood is
to be eaten.
7:1. This also is the law of the sacrifice for a trespass:  it is most
Trespass. . .Trespasses, for which these offerings were to be made, were
lesser offences than those for which the sin offerings were appointed.
7:2. Therefore where the holocaust is immolated, the victim also for a
trespass shall be slain:  the blood thereof shall be poured round about
7:3. They shall offer thereof the rump and the fat that covereth the
7:4. The two little kidneys, and the fat which is by the flanks, and
the caul of the liver with the little kidneys.
7:5. And the priest shall burn them upon the altar:  it is the burnt
sacrifice of the Lord for a trespass.
7:6. Every male of the priestly race, shall eat this flesh in a holy
place, because it is most holy.
7:7. As the sacrifice for sin is offered, so is also that for a
trespass:  the same shall be the law of both these sacrifices.  It shall
belong to the priest that offereth it.
7:8. The priest that offereth the victim of holocaust, shall have the
skin thereof.
7:9. And every sacrifice of flour that is baked in the oven, and
whatsoever is dressed on the gridiron, or in the fryingpan, shall be
the priest's that offereth it.
7:10. Whether they be tempered with oil, or dry, all the sons of Aaron
shall have one as much as another.
7:11. This is the law of the sacrifice of peace offerings that is
offered to the Lord.
7:12. If the oblation be for thanksgiving, they shall offer loaves
without leaven tempered with oil, and unleavened wafers anointed with
oil, and fine flour fried, and cakes tempered and mingled with oil.
7:13. Moreover loaves of leavened bread with the sacrifice of thanks,
which is offered for peace offerings:
7:14. Of which one shall be offered to the Lord for firstfruits, and
shall be the priest's that shall pour out the blood of the victim.
7:15. And the flesh of it shall be eaten the same day:  neither shall
any of it remain until the morning.
7:16. If any man by vow, or of his own accord offer a sacrifice, it
shall in like manner be eaten the same day.  And if any of it remain
until the morrow, it is lawful to eat it.
7:17. But whatsoever shall be found on the third day shall be consumed
7:18. If any man eat of the flesh of the victim of peace offerings on
the third day, the oblation shall be of no effect:  neither shall it
profit the offerer.  Yea rather, whatsoever soul shall defile itself
with such meat, shall be guilty of transgression.
7:19. The flesh that hath touched any unclean thing, shall not be
eaten:  but shall be burnt with fire.  He that is clean shall eat of it.
7:20. If any one that is defiled shall eat of the flesh of the
sacrifice of peace offerings, which is offered to the Lord, he shall be
cut off from his people.
7:21. And he that hath touched the uncleanness of man, or of beast, or
of any thing that can defile, and shall eat of such kind of flesh:
shall be cut off from his people.
7:22. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
7:23. Say to the children of Israel:  The fat of a sheep, and of an ox,
and of a goat you shall not eat.
7:24. The fat of a carcass that hath died of itself, and of a beast
that was caught by another beast, you shall have for divers uses.
7:25. If any man eat the fat that should be offered for the burnt
sacrifice of the Lord, he shall perish out of his people.
7:26. Moreover you shall not eat the blood of any creature whatsoever,
whether of birds or beasts.
7:27. Every one that eateth blood, shall perish from among the people.
7:28. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
7:29. Speak to the children of Israel, saying:  He that offereth a
victim of peace offerings to the Lord, let him offer therewith a
sacrifice also, that is, the libations thereof.
7:30. He shall hold in his hands the fat of the victim, and the breast.
And when he hath offered and consecrated both to the Lord, he shall
deliver them to the priest,
7:31. Who shall burn the fat upon the altar.  But the breast shall be
Aaron's and his sons'.
7:32. The right shoulder also of the victim, of peace offerings shall
fall to the priest for firstfruits.
7:33. He among the sons of Aaron, that offereth the blood, and the fat:
he shall have the right shoulder also for his portion.
7:34. For the breast that is elevated and the shoulder that is
separated I have taken of the children of Israel, from off their
victims of peace offerings:  and have given them to Aaron the priest,
and to his sons, by a law for ever, from all the people of Israel.
7:35. This is the anointing of Aaron and his sons, in the ceremonies of
the Lord, in the day when Moses offered them, that they might do the
office of priesthood,
7:36. And the things that the Lord commanded to be given them by the
children of Israel, by a perpetual observance in their generations.
7:37. This is the law of holocaust, and of the sacrifice for sin, and
for trespass, and for consecration, and the victims of peace offerings:
7:38. Which the Lord appointed to Moses in mount Sinai, when he
commanded the children of Israel, that they should offer their
oblations to the Lord in the desert of Sinai.
Leviticus Chapter 8
Moses consecrateth Aaron and his sons.
8:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
8:2. Take Aaron with his sons, their vestments, and the oil of unction:
a calf for sin, two rams, a basket with unleavened bread.
8:3. And thou shalt gather together all the congregation to the door of
the tabernacle.
8:4. And Moses did as the Lord had commanded.  And all the multitude
being gathered together before the door of the tabernacle:
8:5. He said:  This is the word that the Lord hath commanded to be done.
8:6. And immediately, he offered Aaron and his sons.  And when he had
washed them,
8:7. He vested the high priest with the strait linen garment, girding
him with the girdle, and putting on him the violet tunick:  and over it
he put the ephod.
8:8. And binding it with the girdle, he fitted it to the rational, on
which was Doctrine and Truth.
8:9. He put also the mitre upon his head:  and upon the mitre over the
forehead, he put the plate of gold, consecrated with sanctification, as
the Lord had commanded him.
8:10. He took also the oil of unction, with which he anointed the
tabernacle, with all the furniture thereof.
8:11. And when he had sanctified and sprinkled the altar seven times,
he anointed it, and all the vessels thereof:  and the laver with the
foot thereof, he sanctified with the oil.
8:12. And he poured it upon Aaron's head:  and he anointed and
consecrated him.
8:13. And after he had offered his sons, he vested them with linen
tunicks, and girded them with girdles:  and put mitres on them as the
Lord had commanded.
8:14. He offered also the calf for sin:  and when Aaron and his sons had
put their hands upon the head thereof,
8:15. He immolated it:  and took the blood, and dipping his finger in
it, he touched the horns of the altar round about.  Which being
expiated, and sanctified, he poured the rest of the blood at the bottom
8:16. But the fat that was upon the entrails, and the caul of the
liver, and the two little kidneys, with their fat, he burnt upon the
8:17. And the calf with the skin, and the flesh and the dung, he burnt
without the camp, as the Lord had commanded.
8:18. He offered also a ram for holocaust.  And when Aaron and his sons
had put their hands upon its head:
8:19. He immolated it, and poured the blood thereof round about the
8:20. And cutting the ram into pieces, the head thereof, and the
joints, and the fat he burnt in the fire.
8:21. Having first washed the entrails, and the feet, and the whole ram
together he burnt upon the altar:  because it was a holocaust of most
sweet odour to the Lord, as he had commanded him.
8:22. He offered also the second ram, in the consecration of priests:
and Aaron, and his sons put their hands upon the head thereof.
8:23. And when Moses had immolated it, he took of the blood thereof,
and touched the tip of Aaron's right ear, and the thumb of his right
hand, and in like manner also the great toe of his right foot.
8:24. He offered also the sons of Aaron:  and when with the blood of the
ram that was immolated, he had touched the tip of the right ear of
every one of them, and the thumbs of their right hands, and the great
toes of their right feet, the rest he poured on the altar round about.
8:25. But the fat, and the rump, and all the fat that covereth the
entrails, and the caul of the liver, and the two kidneys with their
fat, and with the right shoulder, he separated.
8:26. And taking out of the basket of unleavened bread, which was
before the Lord, a loaf without leaven, and a cake tempered with oil
and a wafer, he put them upon the fat, and the right shoulder:
8:27. Delivering all to Aaron, and to his sons.  Who having lifted them
up before the Lord,
8:28. He took them again from their hands, and burnt them upon the
altar of holocaust:  because it was the oblation of consecration, for a
sweet odour of sacrifice to the Lord.
8:29. And he took of the ram of consecration, the breast for his
portion, elevating it before the Lord, as the Lord had commanded him.
8:30. And taking the ointment, and the blood that was upon the altar,
he sprinkled Aaron, and his vestments, and his sons, and their
vestments with it.
8:31. And when he had sanctified them in their vestments, he commanded
them, saying:  Boil the flesh before the door of the tabernacle, and
there eat it.  Eat ye also the loaves of consecration, that are laid in
the basket, as the Lord commanded me, saying:  Aaron and his sons shall
8:32. And whatsoever shall be left of the flesh and the loaves, shall
be consumed with fire.
8:33. And you shall not go out of the door of the tabernacle for seven
days, until the day wherein the time of your consecration shall be
expired.  For in seven days the consecration is finished:
8:34. As at this present it hath been done, that the rite of the
sacrifice might be accomplished.
8:35. Day and night shall you remain in the tabernacle observing the
watches of the Lord, lest you die.  For so it hath been commanded me.
8:36. And Aaron and his sons did all things which the Lord spoke by the
hand of Moses.
Leviticus Chapter 9
Aaron offereth sacrifice for himself and the people.  Fire cometh from
the Lord upon the altar.
9:1. And when the eighth day was come, Moses called Aaron and his sons,
and the ancients of Israel, and said to Aaron:
9:2. Take of the herd a calf for sin, and a ram for a holocaust, both
without blemish, and offer them before the Lord.
9:3. And to the children of Israel thou shalt say:  Take ye a he goat
for sin, and a calf, and a lamb, both of a year old, and without
blemish for a holocaust.
9:4. Also a bullock and a ram for peace offerings.  And immolate them
before the Lord, offering for the sacrifice of every one of them flour
tempered with oil:  for to day the Lord will appear to you.
9:5. They brought therefore all things that Moses had commanded before
the door of the tabernacle:  where when all the multitude stood,
9:6. Moses said:  This is the word, which the Lord hath commanded.  Do
it, and his glory will appear to you.
9:7. And he said to Aaron:  Approach to the altar, and offer sacrifice
for thy sin.  Offer the holocaust, and pray for thyself and for the
people:  and when thou hast slain the people's victim, pray for them, as
the Lord hath commanded.
9:8. And forthwith Aaron, approaching to the altar, immolated the calf
for his sin.
9:9. And his sons brought him the blood of it:  and he dipped his finger
therein, and touched the horns of the altar, and poured the rest at the
foot thereof.
9:10. And the fat, and the little kidneys, and the caul of the liver,
which are for sin, he burnt upon the altar, as the Lord had commanded
9:11. But the flesh and skins thereof he burnt with fire without the
9:12. He immolated also the victim of holocaust:  and his sons brought
him the blood thereof, which he poured round about on the altar.
9:13. And the victim being cut into pieces, they brought to him the
head and all the members:  all which he burnt with fire upon the altar.
9:14. Having first washed the entrails and the feet with water.
9:15. Then offering for the sin of the people, he slew the he goat:  and
expiating the altar,
9:16. He offered the holocaust.
9:17. Adding in the sacrifice the libations, which are offered withal,
and burning them upon the altar, besides the ceremonies of the morning
9:18. He immolated also the bullock and the ram, and peace offerings of
the people:  and his sons brought him the blood, which he poured upon
the altar round about.
9:19. The fat also of the bullock, and the rump of the ram, and the two
little kidneys with their fat, and the caul of the liver,
9:20. They put upon the breasts.  And after the fat was burnt upon the
9:21. Aaron separated their breasts, and the right shoulders, elevating
them before the Lord, as Moses had commanded.
9:22. And stretching forth his hands to the people, he blessed them.
And so the victims for sin, and the holocausts, and the peace offerings
being finished, he came down.
9:23. And Moses and Aaron went into the tabernacle of the testimony,
and afterwards came forth and blessed the people.  And the glory of the
Lord appeared to all the multitude.
9:24. And, behold, a fire, coming forth from the Lord, devoured the
holocaust, and the fat that was upon the altar:  which when the
multitude saw, they praised the Lord, falling on their faces.
Leviticus Chapter 10
Nadab and Abiu for offering strange fire, are burnt by fire.  Priests
are forbidden to drink wine, when they enter into the tabernacle.  The
law of eating the holy things.
10:1. And Nadab and Abiu, the sons of Aaron, taking their censers, put
fire therein, and incense on it, offering before the Lord strange fire:
which was not commanded them.
10:2. And fire coming out from the Lord destroyed them:  and they died
before the Lord.
10:3. And Moses said to Aaron:  This is what the Lord hath spoken.  I
will be sanctified in them that approach to me:  and I will be glorified
in the sight of all the people.  And when Aaron heard this, he held his
10:4. And Moses called Misael and Elisaphan, the sons of Oziel, the
uncle of Aaron, and said to them:  Go and take away your brethren from
before the sanctuary, and carry them without the camp.
10:5. And they went forthwith and took them as they lay, vested with
linen tunicks, and cast them forth, as had been commanded them.
10:6. And Moses said to Aaron, and to Eleazar and Ithamar, his sons:
Uncover not your heads, and rend not your garments, lest perhaps you
die, and indignation come upon all the congregation.  Let your brethren,
and all the house of Israel, bewail the burning which the Lord has
10:7. But you shall not go out of the door of the tabernacle:  otherwise
you shall perish, for the oil of the holy unction is on you.  And they
did all things according to the precept of Moses.
10:8. The Lord also said to Aaron:
10:9. You shall not drink wine nor any thing that may make drunk, thou
nor thy sons, when you enter into the tabernacle of the testimony, lest
you die.  Because it is an everlasting precept; through your
generations:
10:10. And that you may have knowledge to discern between holy and
unholy, between unclean and clean:
10:11. And may teach the children of Israel all my ordinances which the
Lord hath spoken to them by the hand of Moses.
10:12. And Moses spoke to Aaron, and to Eleazar and Ithamar, his sons
that were left:  Take the sacrifice that is remaining of the oblation of
the Lord, and eat it without leaven beside the altar, because it is
holy of holies.
10:13. And you shall eat it in a holy place:  which is given to thee and
thy sons of the oblations of the Lord, as it hath been commanded me.
10:14. The breast also that is offered, and the shoulder that is
separated, you shall eat in a most clean place, thou and thy sons, and
thy daughters with thee.  For they are set aside for thee and thy
children, of the victims of peace offerings of the children of Israel.
10:15. Because they have elevated before the Lord the shoulder and the
breast, and the fat that is burnt on the altar:  and they belong to thee
and to thy sons by a perpetual law, as the Lord hath commanded.
10:16. While these things were a doing, when Moses sought for the buck
goat, that had been offered for sin, he found it burnt.  And being angry
with Eleazar and Ithamar, the sons of Aaron that were left, he said:
10:17. Why did you not eat in the holy place the sacrifice for sin,
which is most holy, and given to you, that you may bear the iniquity of
the people, and may pray for them in the sight of the Lord.
10:18. Especially, whereas none of the blood thereof hath been carried
within the holy places:  and you ought to have eaten it in the
sanctuary, as was commanded me?
10:19. Aaron answered:  This day hath been offered the victim for sin,
and the holocaust before the Lord:  and to me what thou seest has
happened.  How could I eat it, or please the Lord in the ceremonies,
having a sorrowful heart?
10:20. Which when Moses had heard he was satisfied.
Leviticus Chapter 11
The distinction of clean and unclean animals.
11:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
11:2. Say to the children of Israel:  These are the animals which you
are to eat of all the living things of the earth.
Animals which you are to eat, etc. . .The prohibition of so many kinds
of beasts, birds, and fishes, in the law, was ordered, 1st, to exercise
the people in obedience, and temperance; 2ndly, to restrain them from
the vices of which these animals were symbols; 3rdly, because the
things here forbidden were for the most part unwholesome, and not
proper to be eaten; 4thly, that the people of God, by being obliged to
abstain from things corporally unclean, might be trained up to seek a
spiritual cleanness.
11:3. Whatsoever hath the hoof divided, and cheweth the cud among the
beasts, you shall eat.
Hoof divided, and cheweth the cud. . .The dividing of the hoof and
chewing of the cud, signify discretion between good and evil, and
meditating on the law of God; and where either of these is wanting a
man is unclean.  In like manner fishes were reputed unclean that had not
fins and scales:  that is, souls that did not raise themselves up by
prayer and cover themselves with the scales of virtue.
11:4. But whatsoever cheweth indeed the cud, and hath a hoof, but
divideth it not, as the camel, and others:  that you shall not eat, but
shall reckon it among the unclean.
11:5. The cherogrillus which cheweth the cud, but divideth not the
hoof, is unclean.
The cherogrillus. . .Some suppose it to be the rabbit, others the
hedgehog.  St. Jerome intimates that it is another kind of animal common
in Palestine, which lives in the holes of rocks or in the earth.  We
choose here, as also in the names of several other creatures that
follow (which are little known in this part of the world,) to keep the
Greek or Latin names.
11:6. The hare also:  for that too cheweth the cud, but divideth not the
11:7. And the swine, which, though it divideth the hoof, cheweth not
11:8. The flesh of these you shall not eat, nor shall you touch their
carcasses, because they are unclean to you.
11:9. These are the things that breed in the waters, and which it is
lawful to eat.  All that hath fins, and scales, as well in the sea, as
in the rivers, and the pools, you shall eat.
11:10. But whatsoever hath not fins and scales, of those things that
move and live in the waters, shall be an abomination to you,
11:11. And detestable.  Their flesh you shall not eat:  and their
carcasses you shall avoid.
11:12. All that have not fins and scales, in the waters, shall be
11:13. Of birds these are they which you must not eat, and which are to
be avoided by you:  The eagle, and the griffon, and the osprey.
The griffon. . .Not the monster which the painter represent, which hath
no being upon earth; but a bird of the eagle kind, larger than the
11:14. And the kite, and the vulture, according to their kind.
11:15. And all that is of the raven kind, according to their likeness.
11:16. The ostrich, and the owl, and the larus, and the hawk according
to its kind.
11:17. The screech owl, and the cormorant, and the ibis.
11:18. And the swan, and the bittern, and the porphyrion.
11:19. The heron, and the charadroin according to its kind, the houp
also, and the bat.
11:20. Of things that fly, whatsoever goeth upon four feet, shall be
abominable to you.
11:21. But whatsoever walketh upon four feet, but hath the legs behind
longer, wherewith it hoppeth upon the earth,
11:22. That you shall eat:  as the bruchus in its kind, the attacus, and
ophimachus, and the locust, every, one according to their kind.
11:23. But of flying things whatsoever hath four feet only, shall be an
abomination to you.
11:24. And whosoever shall touch the carcasses of them, shall be
defiled:  and shall be unclean until the evening:
11:25. And if it be necessary that he carry any of these things when
they are dead:  he shall wash his clothes, and shall be unclean until
the sun set.
11:26. Every beast that hath a hoof, but divideth it not, nor cheweth
the cud shall be unclean:  and he that toucheth it, shall be defiled.
11:27. That which walketh upon hands of all animals which go on all
four, shall be unclean:  he that shall touch their carcasses shall be
defiled until evening.
11:28. And he that shall carry such carcasses, shall wash his clothes,
and shall be unclean until evening:  because all these things are
unclean to you.
11:29. These also shall be reckoned among unclean things, of all that
move upon the earth.  The weasel, and the mouse, and the crocodile,
every one according to their kind:
11:30. The shrew, and the chameleon, and the stellio, and the lizard,
and the mole.
11:31. All these are unclean.  He that toucheth their carcasses shall be
unclean until the evening.
11:32. And upon what thing soever any of their carcasses shall fall, it
shall be defiled, whether it be a vessel of wood, or a garment, or
skins or haircloths:  or any thing in which work is done.  They shall be
dipped in water, and shall be unclean until the evening, and so
afterwards shall be clean.
11:33. But an earthen vessel, into which any of these shall fall, shall
be defiled:  and therefore is to be broken.
11:34. Any meat which you eat, if water from such a vessel be poured
upon it, shall be unclean; and every liquor that is drunk out of any
such vessel, shall be unclean.
11:35. And upon whatsoever thing any of these dead beasts shall fall,
it shall be unclean.  Whether it be oven, or pots with feet, they shall
be destroyed, and shall be unclean.
11:36. But fountains and cisterns, and all gatherings together of
waters shall be clean.  He that toucheth their carcasses shall be
11:37. If it fall upon seed corn, it shall not defile it.
11:38. But if any man pour water upon the seed, and afterwards it be
touched by the carcasses, it shall be forthwith defiled.
11:39. If any beast die, of which it is lawful for you to eat, he that
toucheth the carcass thereof, shall be unclean until the evening.
11:40. And he that eateth or carrieth any thing thereof, shall wash his
clothes, and shall be unclean until the evening.
11:41. All that creepeth upon the earth shall be abominable:  neither
shall it be taken for meat.
11:42. Whatsoever goeth upon the breast on four feet, or hath many
feet, or traileth on the earth, you shall not eat, because it is
11:43. Do not defile your souls, nor touch aught thereof, lest you be
11:44. For I am the Lord your God.  Be holy because I am holy.  Defile
not your souls by any creeping thing, that moveth upon the earth.
11:45. For I am the Lord, who brought you out of the land of Egypt,
that I might be your God.
11:46. You shall be holy, because I am holy.  This is the law of beasts
and fowls, and of every living creature that moveth in the waters, and
creepeth on the earth:
11:47. That you may know the differences of the clean, and unclean, and
know what you ought to eat, and what to refuse.
Leviticus Chapter 12
The purification of women after childbirth.
12:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
12:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  If a
woman having received seed shall bear a man child, she shall be unclean
seven days, according to the days of separation of her flowers.
12:3. And on the eighth day the infant shall be circumcised:
12:4. But she shall remain three and thirty days in the blood of her
purification.  She shall touch no holy thing:  neither shall she enter
into the sanctuary, until the days of her purification, be fulfilled.
12:5. But if she shall bear a maid child, she shall be unclean two
weeks, according to the custom of her monthly courses.  And she shall
remain in the blood of her purification sixty-six days.
12:6. And when the days of her purification are expired, for a son, or
for a daughter, she shall bring to the door of the tabernacle of the
testimony, a lamb of a year old for a holocaust, and a young pigeon or
a turtle for sin:  and shall deliver them to the priest.
12:7. Who shall offer them before the Lord, and shall pray for her:  and
so she shall be cleansed from the issue of her blood.  This is the law
for her that beareth a man child or a maid child.
12:8. And if her hand find not sufficiency, and she is not able to
offer a lamb, she shall take two turtles, or two young pigeons, one for
a holocaust, and another for sin:  and the priest shall pray for her,
and so she shall be cleansed.
Leviticus Chapter 13
The law concerning leprosy in men, and in garments.
13:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
13:2. The man in whose skin or flesh shall arise a different colour or
a blister, or as it were something shining, that is the stroke of the
leprosy, shall be brought to Aaron the priest, or any or of his sons.
13:3. And if he see the leprosy in his skin, and the hair turned white
and the place where the leprosy appears lower than the skin and the
rest of the flesh:  it is the stroke of the leprosy, and upon his
judgment he shall be separated.
13:4. But if there be a shining whiteness in the skin, and not lower
than the other flesh, and the hair be of the former colour, the priest
shall shut him up seven days.
13:5. And the seventh day he shall look on him:  and if the leprosy be
grown no farther, and hath not spread itself in the skin, he shall shut
him up again other seven days.
13:6. And on the seventh day, he shall look on him.  If the leprosy be
somewhat obscure, and not spread in the skin, he shall declare him
clean, because it is but a scab:  and the man shall wash his clothes,
and shall be clean.
13:7. But, if the leprosy grow again, after he was seen by the priest
and restored to cleanness, he shall be brought to him:
13:8. And shall be condemned of uncleanness.
13:9. If the stroke of the leprosy be in a man, he shall be brought to
13:10. And he shall view him.  And when there shall be a white colour in
the skin, and it shall have changed the look of the hair, and the
living flesh itself shall appear:
13:11. It shall be judged an inveterate leprosy, and grown into the
skin.  The priest therefore shall declare him unclean:  and shall not
shut him up, because he is evidently unclean.
13:12. But if the leprosy spring out running about in the skin, and
cover all the skin from the head to the feet, whatsoever falleth under
the sight of the eyes:
13:13. The priest shall view him, and shall judge that the leprosy
which he has is very clean:  because it is all turned into whiteness,
and therefore the man shall be clean.
13:14. But when the live flesh shall appear in him:
13:15. Then by the judgment of the priest he shall be defiled, and
shall be reckoned among the unclean.  For live flesh, if it be spotted
with leprosy, is unclean.
13:16. And if again it be turned into whiteness, and cover all the man:
13:17. The priest shall view him, and shall judge him to be clean.
13:18. When also there has been an ulcer in the flesh and the skin, and
it has been healed:
13:19. And in the place of the ulcer, there appeareth a white scar, or
somewhat red, the man shall be brought to the priest.
13:20. And when he shall see the place of the leprosy lower than the
other flesh, and the hair turned white:  he shall declare him unclean,
for the plague of leprosy is broken out in the ulcer.
13:21. But if the hair be of the former colour, and the scar somewhat
obscure, and be not lower than the flesh that is near it:  he shall shut
him up seven days.
13:22. And if it spread, he shall judge him to have the leprosy:
13:23. But if it stay in its place, it is but the scar of an ulcer:  and
the man shall be clean.
13:24. The flesh also and skin that hath been burnt, and after it is
healed hath a white or a red scar:
13:25. The priest shall view it, and if he see it turned white, and the
place thereof is lower than the other skin:  he shall declare him
unclean, because the evil of leprosy is broken out in the scar.
13:26. But if the colour of the hair be not changed, nor the blemish
lower than the other flesh, and the appearance of the leprosy be
somewhat obscure:  he shall shut him up seven days,
13:27. And on the seventh day he shall view him.  If the leprosy be
grown farther in the skin, he shall declare him unclean.
13:28. But if the whiteness stay in its place, and be not very clear,
it is the sore of a burning:  and therefore he shall be cleansed,
because it is only the scar of a burning.
13:29. If the leprosy break out in the head or the beard of a man or
woman, the priest shall see them,
13:30. And if the place be lower than the other flesh, and the hair
yellow, and thinner than usual:  he shall declare them unclean, because
it is the leprosy of the head and the beard;
13:31. But if he perceive the place of the spot is equal with the flesh
that is near it, and the hair black:  he shall shut him up seven days,
13:32. And on the seventh day he shall look upon it.  If the spot be not
grown, and the hair keep its colour, and the place of the blemish be
even with the other flesh:
13:33. The man shall be shaven all but the place of the spot:  and he
shall be shut up other seven days.
13:34. If on the seventh day the evil seem to have stayed in its place,
and not lower than the other flesh, he shall cleanse him:  and his
clothes being washed he shall be clean.
13:35. But if after his cleansing the spot spread again in the skin:
13:36. He shall seek no more whether the hair be turned yellow, because
he is evidently unclean.
13:37. But if the spot be stayed, and the hair be black, let him know
that the man is healed:  and let him confidently pronounce him clean.
13:38. If a whiteness appear in the skin of a man or a woman,
13:39. The priest shall view them.  If he find that a darkish whiteness
shineth in the skin, let him know that it is not the leprosy, but a
white blemish, and that the man is clean.
13:40. The man whose hair falleth off from his head, he is bald and
13:41. And if the hair fall from his forehead, he is bald before and
13:42. But if in the bald head or in the bald forehead there be risen a
white or reddish colour:
13:43. And the priest perceive this, he shall condemn him undoubtedly
of leprosy which is risen in the bald part.
13:44. Now whosoever shall be defiled with the leprosy, and is
separated by the judgment of the priest:
13:45. Shall have his clothes hanging loose, his head bare, his mouth
covered with a cloth:  and he shall cry out that he is defiled and
13:46. All the time that he is a leper and unclean he shall dwell alone
without the camp.
13:47. A woollen or linen garment that shall have the leprosy
13:48. In the warp, and the woof:  or skin, or whatsoever is made of a
13:49. If it be infected with a white or red spot, it shall be
accounted the leprosy, and shall be shewn to the priest.
13:50. And he shall look upon it and shall shut it up seven days.
13:51. And on the seventh day when he looketh on it again, if he find
that it is grown, it is a fixed leprosy.  He shall judge the garment
unclean, and every thing wherein it shall be found.
13:52. And therefore it shall be burnt with fire.
13:53. But if he see that it is not grown,
13:54. He shall give orders, and they shall wash that part wherein the
leprosy is:  and he shall shut it up other seven days.
13:55. And when he shall see that the former colour is not returned,
nor yet the leprosy spread, he shall judge it unclean:  and shall burn
it with fire, for the leprosy has taken hold of the outside of the
garment, or through the whole.
13:56. But if the place of the leprosy be somewhat dark, after the
garment is washed, he shall tear it off, and divide it from that which
13:57. And if after this there appear in those places that before were
without spot, a flying and wandering leprosy:  it must be burnt with
13:58. If it cease, he shall wash with water the parts that are pure,
the second time:  and they shall be clean.
13:59. This is the law touching the leprosy of any woollen or linen
garment, either in the warp or woof, or any thing of skins:  how it
ought to be cleaned, or pronounced unclean.
Leviticus Chapter 14
The rites of sacrifices in cleansing the leprosy.  Leprosy in houses.
14:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
14:2. This is the rite of a leper, when he is to be cleansed.  He shall
be brought to the priest:
14:3. Who going out of the camp, when he shall find that the leprosy is
14:4. Shall command him that is to be purified, to offer for himself
two living sparrows, which it is lawful to eat, and cedar wood, and
scarlet, and hyssop.
14:5. And he shall command one of the sparrows to be immolated in an
earthen vessel over living waters.
Living waters. . .That is, waters taken from a spring, brook, or river.
14:6. But the other that is alive, he shall dip, with the cedar wood,
and the scarlet and the hyssop, in the blood of the sparrow that is
14:7. Wherewith he shall sprinkle him that is to be cleansed seven
times, that he may be rightly purified.  And he shall let go the living
sparrow, that it may fly into the field.
14:8. And when the man hath washed his clothes, he shall shave all the
hair of his body, and shall be washed with water:  and being purified he
shall enter into the camp, yet so that he tarry without his own tent
14:9. And on the seventh day he shall shave the hair of his head, and
his beard and his eyebrows, and the hair of all his body.  And having
washed again his clothes, and his body,
14:10. On the eighth day, he shall take two lambs without blemish, and
an ewe of a year old without blemish, and three tenths of flour
tempered with oil for a sacrifice, and a sextary of oil apart.
A sextary. . .Heb. log:  a measure of liquids, which was the twelfth part
of a hin; and held about as much as six eggs.
14:11. And when the priest that purifieth the man, hath presented him,
and all these things before the Lord, at the door of the tabernacle of
the testimony:
14:12. He shall take a lamb, and offer it for a trespass offering with
the sextary of oil.  And having offered all before the Lord,
14:13. He shall immolate the lamb, where the victim for sin is wont to
be immolated, and the holocaust, that is, in the holy place.  For as
that which is for sin, so also the victim for a trespass offering
pertaineth to the priest:  it is holy of holies.
14:14. And the priest taking of the blood of the victim that was
immolated for trespass, shall put it upon the tip of the right ear of
him that is cleansed, and upon the thumb of his right hand and the
great toe of his right foot.
Taking of the blood, etc. . .These ceremonies used in the cleansing of a
leper, were mysterious and very significative.  The sprinkling seven
times with the blood of the little bird, the washing himself and his
clothes, the shaving his hair and his beard, signify the means which
are to be used in the reconciliation of a sinner, and the steps by
which he is to return to God, viz., by the repeated application of the
blood of Christ:  the washing his conscience with the waters of
compunction:  and retrenching all vanities and superfluities, by
employing all that is over and above what is necessary in alms deeds.
The sin offering, and the holocaust or burnt offering, which he was to
offer at his cleansing, signify the sacrifice of a contrite and humble
heart, and that of adoration in spirit and truth, with gratitude and
thankfulness, for the forgiveness of sins, with which we are ever to
appear before the Almighty.  The touching the right ear, the thumb of
the right hand, and the great toe of the right foot, first with the
blood of the victim, and then with the remainder of the oil, which had
been sprinkled seven times before the Lord, signify the application of
the blood of Christ, and the unction of the sevenfold grace of the Holy
Ghost; to the sinner's right ear, that he may duly hearken to and obey
the law of God; and to his right hand and foot, that the works of his
hands, and all the steps or affections of his soul, signified by the
feet, may be rightly directed to God.
14:15. And he shall pour of the sextary of oil into his own left hand,
14:16. And shall dip his right finger in it, and sprinkle it before the
Lord seven times.
14:17. And the rest of the oil in his left hand, he shall pour upon the
tip of the right ear of him that is cleansed, and upon the thumb of his
right hand and the great toe of his right foot, and upon the blood that
was shed for trespass:
14:18. And upon his head.
14:19. And he shall pray for him before the Lord, and shall offer the
sacrifice for sin.  Then shall he immolate the holocaust.
14:20. And put it on the altar with the libations thereof:  and the man
shall be rightly cleansed.
14:21. But if he be poor, and his hand cannot find the things
aforesaid:  he shall take a lamb for an offering for trespass, that the
priest may pray for him, and a tenth part of flour tempered with oil
for a sacrifice, and a sextary of oil:
14:22. And two turtles or two young pigeons, of which one may be for
sin, and the other for a holocaust.
14:23. And he shall offer them on the eighth day of his purification to
the priest, at the door of the tabernacle of the testimony before the
14:24. And the priest receiving the lamb for trespass, and the sextary
of oil, shall elevate them together.
14:25. And the lamb being immolated, he shall put of the blood thereof
upon the tip of the right ear of him that is cleansed, and upon the
thumb of his right hand, and the great toe of his right foot.
14:26. But he shall pour part of the oil into his own left hand,
14:27. And dipping the finger of his right hand in it, he shall
sprinkle it seven times before the Lord.
14:28. And he shall touch the tip of the right ear of him that is
cleansed, and the thumb of his right hand and the great toe of his
right foot, in the place of the blood that was shed for trespass.
14:29. And the other part of the oil that is in his left hand, he shall
pour upon the head of the purified person, that he may appease the Lord
14:30. And he shall offer a turtle, or young pigeon:
14:31. One for trespass, and the other for a holocaust, with their
14:32. This is the sacrifice of a leper, that is not able to have all
things that appertain to his cleansing.
14:33. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
14:34. When you shall come into the land of Chanaan, which I will give
you for a possession, if there be the plague or leprosy in a house:
14:35. He whose house it is, shall go and tell the priest, saying:  It
seemeth to me, that there is the plague of leprosy in my house,
14:36. And he shall command, that they carry forth all things out of
the house, before he go into it, and see whether it have the leprosy,
let all things become unclean that are in the house.  And afterwards he
shall go in to view the leprosy of the house.
14:37. And if he see in the walls thereof as it were little dints,
disfigured with paleness or redness, and lower than all he rest:
14:38. He shall go out of the door of the house, and forthwith shut it
up seven days,
14:39. And returning on the seventh day, he shall look upon it.  If he
find that the leprosy is spread,
14:40. He shall command, that the stones wherein the leprosy is, be
taken out, and cast without the city into an unclean place:
14:41. And that the house be scraped on the inside round about, and the
dust of the scrapings be scattered without the city into an unclean
14:42. And that other stones be laid in the place of them that were
taken away, and the house be plastered with other mortar.
14:43. But if after the stones be taken out, and the dust scraped off,
and it be plastered with other earth.
14:44. The priest going in perceive that the leprosy is returned, and
the walls full of spots, it is a lasting leprosy, and the house is
14:45. And they shall destroy it forthwith, and shall cast the stones
and timber thereof, and all the dust without the town into an unclean
14:46. He that entereth into the house when it is shut, shall be
unclean until evening,
14:47. And he that sleepeth in it, and eateth any thing, shall wash his
14:48. But if the priest going in perceive that the leprosy is not
spread in the house, after it was plastered again, he shall purify it,
it being cured.
14:49. And for the purification thereof he shall take two sparrows, and
cedar wood, and scarlet, and hyssop.
14:50. And having immolated one sparrow in an earthen vessel, over
living waters,
14:51. He shall take the cedar wood, and the hyssop, and the scarlet,
and the living sparrow, and shall dip all in the blood of the sparrow
that is immolated, and in the living water:  and he shall sprinkle the
house seven times.
14:52. And shall purify it as well with the blood of the sparrow, as
with the living water, and with the living sparrow, and with the cedar
wood, and the hyssop, and the scarlet.
14:53. And when he hath let go the sparrow to fly freely away into the
field, he shall pray for the house:  and it shall be rightly cleansed.
14:54. This is the law of every kind of leprosy and stroke.
14:55. Of the leprosy of garments and houses,
14:56. Of a scar and of blisters breaking out of a shining spot, and
when the colours are diversely changed:
14:57. That it may be known when a thing is clean or unclean.
Leviticus Chapter 15
Other legal uncleannesses.
15:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
15:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and say to them:  The man that
hath an issue of seed, shall be unclean.
Issue of seed shall be unclean. . .These legal uncleannesses were
instituted in order to give the people a horror of carnal impurities.
15:3. And then shall he be judged subject to this evil, when a filthy
humour, at every moment, cleaveth to his flesh, and gathereth there.
15:4. Every bed on which he sleepeth, shall be unclean, and every place
on which he sitteth.
15:5. If any man touch his bed, he shall wash his clothes and being
washed with water, he shall be unclean until the evening.
15:6. If a man sit where that man hath sitten, he also shall wash his
clothes:  and being washed with water, shall be unclean until the
15:7. He that toucheth his flesh, shall wash his clothes:  and being
himself washed with water shall be unclean until the evening.
15:8. If such a man cast his spittle upon him that is clean, he shall
wash his clothes:  and being washed with water, he shall be unclean
until the evening.
15:9. The saddle on which he hath sitten shall be unclean.
15:10. And whatsoever has been under him that hath the issue of seed,
shall be unclean until the evening.  He that carrieth any of these
things, shall wash his clothes:  and being washed with water, he shall
be unclean until the evening.
15:11. Every person whom such a one shall touch, not having washed his
hands before, shall wash his clothes:  and being washed with water,
shall be unclean until the evening.
15:12. If he touch a vessel of earth, it shall be broken:  but if a
vessel of wood, it shall be washed with water.
15:13. If he who suffereth this disease be healed, he shall number
seven days after his cleansing:  and having washed his clothes, and all
his body in living water, he shall be clean.
15:14. And on the eighth day he shall take two turtles, or two young
pigeons, and he shall come before the Lord, to the door of the
tabernacle of the testimony, and shall give them to the priest.
15:15. Who shall offer one for sin, and the other for a holocaust:  and
he shall pray for him before the Lord, that he may be cleansed of the
issue of his seed.
15:16. The man from whom the seed of copulation goeth out, shall wash
all his body with water:  and he shall be unclean until the evening.
15:17. The garment or skin that he weareth, he shall wash with water:
and it shall be unclean until the evening.
15:18. The woman, with whom he copulateth, shall be washed with water:
and shall be unclean until the evening.
15:19. The woman, who at the return of the month, hath her issue of
blood, shall be separated seven days.
15:20. Every one that toucheth her, shall be unclean until the evening.
15:21. And every thing that she sleepeth on, or that she sitteth on in
the days of her separation, shall be defiled.
15:22. He that toucheth her bed shall wash his clothes:  and being
himself washed with water, shall be unclean until the evening.
15:23. Whosoever shall touch any vessel on which she sitteth, shall
wash his clothes:  and himself being washed with water, shall be defiled
until the evening.
15:24. If a man copulateth with her in the time of her flowers, he
shall be unclean seven days:  and every bed on which he shall sleep,
shall be defiled.
15:25. The woman that hath still issue of blood many days out of her
ordinary time, or that ceaseth not to flow after the monthly courses,
as long as she is subject to this disease, shall be unclean, in the
same manner as if she were in her flowers.
15:26. Every bed on which she sleepeth, and every vessel on which she
sitteth, shall be defiled.
15:27. Whosoever toucheth them shall wash his clothes:  and himself
being washed with water, shall be unclean until the evening.
15:28. If the blood stop and cease to run, she shall count seven days
of her purification:
15:29. And on the eighth day she shall offer for herself to the priest,
two turtles, or two young pigeons, at the door of the tabernacle of the
15:30. And he shall offer one for sin, and the other for a holocaust,
and he shall pray for her before the Lord, and for the issue of her
uncleanness.
15:31. You shall teach therefore the children of Israel to take heed of
uncleanness, that they may not die in their filth, when they shall have
defiled my tabernacle that is among them.
15:32. This is the law of him that hath the issue of seed, and that is
defiled by copulation.
15:33. And of the woman that is separated in her monthly times, or that
hath a continual issue of blood, and of the man that sleepeth with her.
Leviticus Chapter 16
When and how the high priest must enter into the sanctuary.  The feast
of expiation.
16:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, after the death of the two sons of
Aaron when they were slain upon their offering strange fire:
16:2. And he commanded him, saying:  Speak to Aaron thy brother, that he
enter not at all into the sanctuary, which is within the veil before
the propitiatory, with which the ark is covered, lest he die, (for I
will appear in a cloud over the oracle),
Enter not. . .No one but the high priest, and he but once a year, could
enter into the sanctuary; to signify that no one could enter into the
sanctuary of heaven, till Christ our high priest opened it by his
passion.  Heb. 10.8.
16:3. Unless he first do these things.  He shall offer a calf for sin,
and a ram for a holocaust.
16:4. He shall be vested with a linen tunick:  he shall cover his
nakedness with linen breeches:  he shall be girded with a linen girdle,
and he shall put a linen mitre upon his head.  For these are holy
vestments:  all which he shall put on, after he is washed.
16:5. And he shall receive from the whole multitude of the children of
Israel two buck goats for sin, and one ram for a holocaust.
16:6. And when he hath offered the cattle and prayed for himself and
for his own house:
16:7. He shall make the two buck goats to stand before the Lord in the
door of the tabernacle of the testimony.
16:8. And casting lots upon them both, one to be offered to the Lord,
and the other to be the emissary goat:
16:9. That whose lot fell to be offered to the Lord, he shall offer for
16:10. But that whose lot was to be the emissary goat, he shall present
before the Lord, that he may pour prayers upon him, and let him go into
the wilderness.
16:11. After these things are duly celebrated, he shall offer the calf:
and praying for himself and for his own house, he shall immolate it.
16:12. And taking the censer, which he hath filled with the burning
coals of the altar, and taking up with his hands the compounded perfume
for incense, he shall go in within the veil into the holy place:
16:13. That when the perfumes are put upon the fire, the cloud and
vapour thereof may cover the oracle, which is over the testimony, and
he may not die.
16:14. He shall take also of the blood of the calf, and sprinkle with
his finger seven times towards the propitiatory to the east.
16:15. And when he hath killed the buck goat for the sin of the people,
he shall carry in the blood thereof within the veil, as he was
commanded to do with the blood of the calf, that he may sprinkle it
over against the oracle:
16:16. And may expiate the sanctuary from the uncleanness of the
children of Israel, and from their transgressions, and all their sins.
According to this rite shall he do to the tabernacle of the testimony,
which is fixed among them in the midst of the filth of their
16:17. Let no man be in the tabernacle when the high priest goeth into
the sanctuary, to pray for himself and his house, and for the whole
congregation of Israel, until he come out.
16:18. And when he is come out to the altar that is before the Lord,
let him pray for himself:  and taking the blood of the calf, and of the
buck goat, let him pour it upon the horns thereof round about.
16:19. And sprinkling with his finger seven times, let him expiate, and
sanctify it from the uncleanness of the children of Israel.
16:20. After he hath cleaned the sanctuary, and the tabernacle, and the
altar, then let him offer the living goat.
16:21. And putting both hands upon his head, let him confess all the
iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their offences and sins.
And praying that they may light on its head, he shall turn him out by a
man ready for it, into the desert.
16:22. And when the goat hath carried all their iniquities into an
uninhabited land, and shall be let go into the desert:
16:23. Aaron shall return into the tabernacle of the testimony, and
putting off the vestments, which he had on him before when he entered
into the sanctuary, and leaving them there,
16:24. He shall wash his flesh in the holy place, and shall put on his
own garments.  And after that he is come out and hath offered his own
holocaust, and that of the people, he shall pray both for himself, and
for the people.
16:25. And the fat that is offered for sins, he shall burn on the
16:26. But he that hath let go the emissary goat, shall wash his
clothes, and his body with water, and so shall enter into the camp.
16:27. But the calf and the buck goat, that were sacrificed for sin,
and whose blood was carried into the sanctuary, to accomplish the
atonement, they shall carry forth without the camp, and shall burn with
fire:  their skins and their flesh, and their dung.
16:28. And whosoever burneth them shall wash his clothes, and flesh
with water:  and so shall enter into the camp.
16:29. And this shall be to you an everlasting ordinance.  The seventh
month, the tenth day of the month, you shall afflict your souls, and
shall do no work, whether it be one of your own country, or a stranger
that sojourneth among you.
16:30. Upon this day shall be the expiation for you, and the cleansing
from all your sins.  You shall be cleansed before the Lord.
16:31. For it is a sabbath of rest:  and you shall afflict your souls by
a perpetual religion.
16:32. And the priest that is anointed, and whose hands are consecrated
to do the office of the priesthood in his father's stead, shall make
atonement.  And he shall be vested with the linen robe and the holy
16:33. And he shall expiate the sanctuary and the tabernacle of the
testimony and the altar:  the priest also and all the people.
16:34. And this shall be an ordinance for ever, that you pray for the
children of Israel, and for all their sins once a year.  He did
therefore as the Lord had commanded Moses.
Leviticus Chapter 17
No sacrifices to be offered but at the door of the tabernacle:  a
prohibition of blood.
17:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
17:2. Speak to Aaron and his sons, and to all the children of Israel,
saying to them:  This is the word, which the Lord hath commanded,
17:3. Any man whosoever of the house of Israel, if he kill an ox, or a
sheep, or a goat in the camp, or without the camp,
If he kill, etc. . .That is, in order to sacrifice.  The law of God
forbids sacrifices to be offered in any other place but at the
tabernacle or temple of the Lord; to signify that no sacrifice would be
acceptable to God, out of his true temple, the one holy, catholic,
apostolic church.
17:4. And offer it not at the door of the tabernacle an oblation to the
Lord, shall be guilty of blood.  As if he had shed blood, so shall he
perish from the midst of his people.
17:5. Therefore the children of Israel shall bring to the priest their
victims, which they kill in the field, that they may be sanctified to
the Lord before the door of the tabernacle of the testimony:  and they
may sacrifice them for peace offerings to the Lord.
17:6. And the priest shall pour the blood upon the altar of the Lord,
at the door of the tabernacle of the testimony:  and shall burn the fat
for a sweet odour to the Lord.
17:7. And they shall no more sacrifice their victims to devils, with
whom they have committed fornication.  It shall be an ordinance for ever
to them and to their posterity.
17:8. And thou shalt say to them:  The man of the house of Israel, and
of the strangers who sojourn among you, that offereth a holocaust or a
17:9. And bringeth it not to the door of the tabernacle of the
testimony, that it may be offered to the Lord, shall perish from among
17:10. If any man whosoever of the house of Israel, and of the
strangers that sojourn among them, eat blood, I will set my face
against his soul, and will cut him off from among his people.
Eat blood. . .To eat blood was forbidden in the law; partly, because God
reserved it to himself, to be offered in sacrifices on the altar, as to
the Lord of life and death; and as a figure of the blood of Christ; and
partly, to give men a horror of shedding blood.  Gen. 9.4, 5, 6.
17:11. Because the life of the flesh is in the blood:  and I have given
it to you, that you may make atonement with it upon the altar for your
souls, and the blood may be for an expiation of the soul.
17:12. Therefore I have said to the children of Israel:  No soul of you,
nor of the strangers that sojourn among you, shall eat blood.
17:13. Any man whosoever of the children of Israel, and of the
strangers that sojourn among you, if by hunting or fowling, he take a
wild beast or a bird, which is lawful to eat, let him pour out its
blood, and cover it with earth.
17:14. For the life of all flesh is in the blood.  Therefore I said to
the children of Israel:  you shall not eat the blood of any flesh at
all, because the life of the flesh is in the blood, and whosoever
eateth it, shall be cut off.
17:15. The soul that eateth that which died of itself, or has been
caught by a beast, whether he be one of your own country or a stranger,
shall wash his clothes and himself with water, and shall be defiled
until the evening:  and in this manner he shall be made clean.
17:16. But if he do not wash his clothes, and his body, he shall bear
his iniquity.
Leviticus Chapter 18
Marriage is prohibited in certain degrees of kindred:  Anda all
unnatural lusts.
18:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
18:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  I am
the Lord your God.
18:3. You shall not do according to the custom of the land of Egypt, in
which you dwelt:  neither shall you act according to the manner of the
country of Chanaan, into which I will bring you.  Nor shall you walk in
their ordinances.
18:4. You shall do my judgments, and shall observe my precepts, and
shall walk in them.  I am the Lord your God.
18:5. Keep my laws and my judgments:  which if a man do, he shall live
in them, I am the Lord.
18:6. No man shall approach to her that is near of kin to him, to
uncover her nakedness.  I am the Lord.
18:7. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy father, or the
nakedness of thy mother:  she is thy mother, thou shalt not uncover her
18:8. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy father's wife:  for it
is the nakedness of thy father.
18:9. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy sister by father or
by mother:  whether born at home or abroad.
18:10. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy son's daughter, or
thy daughter's daughter:  because it is thy own nakedness.
18:11. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy father's wife's
daughter, whom she bore to thy father:  and who is thy sister.
18:12. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy father's sister:
because she is the flesh of thy father.
18:13. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy mother's sister:
because she is thy mother's flesh.
18:14. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy father's brother:
neither shalt thou approach to his wife, who is joined to thee by
18:15. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy daughter in law:
because she is thy son's wife, neither shalt thou discover her shame.
18:16. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy brother's wife:
because it is the nakedness of thy brother.
18:17. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy wife and her
daughter.  Thou shalt not take her son's daughter or her daughter's
daughter, to discover her shame:  because they are her flesh, and such
copulation is incest.
18:18. Thou shalt not take thy wife's sister for a harlot, to rival
her:  neither shalt thou discover her nakedness, while she is yet
18:19. Thou shalt not approach to a woman having her flowers:  neither
shalt thou uncover her nakedness.
18:20. Thou shalt not lie with thy neighbour's wife:  nor be defiled
with mingling of seed.
18:21. Thou shalt not give any of thy seed to be consecrated to the
idol Moloch, nor defile the name of thy God.  I am the Lord.
18:22. Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind:  because it is
an abomination.
18:23. Thou shalt not copulate with any beast:  neither shalt thou be
defiled with it.  A woman shall not lie down to a beast, nor copulate
with it:  because it is a heinous crime.
Because it is a heinous crime. . .In Hebrew, this word heinous crime is
expressed by the word confusion, signifying the shamefulness and
baseness of this abominable sin.
18:24. Defile not yourselves with any of these things with which all
the nations have been defiled, which I will cast out before you,
18:25. And with which the land is defiled:  the abominations of which I
will visit, that it may vomit out its inhabitants.
18:26. Keep ye my ordinances and my judgments:  and do not any of these
abominations.  Neither any of your own nation, nor any stranger that
sojourneth among you.
18:27. For all these detestable things the inhabitants of the land have
done, that were before you, and have defiled it.
18:28. Beware then, lest in like manner, it vomit you also out, if you
do the like things:  as it vomited out the nation that was before you.
18:29. Every soul that shall commit any of these abominations, shall
perish from the midst of his people.
18:30. Keep my commandments.  Do not the things which they have done,
that have been before you:  and be not defiled therein.  I am the Lord
Leviticus Chapter 19
Divers ordinances, partly moral, partly ceremonial or judicial.
19:1. The Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
19:2. Speak to all the congregation of the children of Israel.  And thou
shalt say to them:  Be ye holy, because I the Lord your God am holy.
19:3. Let every one fear his father, and his mother.  Keep my sabbaths.
I am the Lord your God.
19:4. Turn ye not to idols:  nor make to yourselves molten gods.  I am
the Lord your God.
19:5. If ye offer in sacrifice a peace offering to the Lord, that he
may be favourable:
19:6. You shall eat it on the same day it was offered, and the next
day.  And whatsoever shall be left until the third day, you shall burn
19:7. If after two days any man eat thereof, he shall be profane and
guilty of impiety:
19:8. And shall bear his iniquity, because he hath defiled the holy
thing of the Lord.  And that soul shall perish from among his people.
19:9. When thou reapest the corn of thy land, thou shalt not cut down
all that is on the face of the earth to the very ground:  nor shalt thou
gather the ears that remain.
19:10. Neither shalt thou gather the bunches and grapes that fall down
in thy vineyard:  but shalt leave them to the poor and the strangers to
take.  I am the Lord your God.
19:11. You shall not steal.  You shall not lie:  neither shall any man
deceive his neighbour.
19:12. Thou shalt not swear falsely by my name, nor profane the name of
thy God.  I am the Lord.
19:13. Thou shalt not calumniate thy neighbour, nor oppress him by
violence.  The wages of him that hath been hired by thee shall not abide
with thee until the morning.
19:14. Thou shalt not speak evil of the deaf, nor put a stumbling block
before the blind:  but thou shalt fear the Lord thy God, because I am
19:15. Thou shalt not do that which is unjust, nor judge unjustly.
Respect not the person of the poor:  nor honour the countenance of the
mighty.  But judge thy neighbour according to justice.
19:16. Thou shalt not be a detractor nor a whisperer among the people.
Thou shalt not stand against the blood of thy neighbour.  I am the Lord.
19:17. Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart:  But reprove him
openly, lest thou incur sin through him.
19:18. Seek not revenge, nor be mindful of the injury of thy citizens.
Thou shalt love thy friend as thyself.  I am the Lord.
19:19. Keep ye my laws.  Thou shalt not make thy cattle to gender with
beasts of any other kind.  Thou shalt not sow thy field with different
seeds.  Thou shalt not wear a garment that is woven of two sorts.
Different seeds, etc. . .This law tends to recommend simplicity and
plain dealing in all things, and to teach the people not to join any
false worship or heresy with the worship of the true God.
19:20. If a man carnally lie with a woman that is a bondservant and
marriageable, and yet not redeemed with a price, nor made free:  they
both shall be scourged:  and they shall not be put to death, because she
was not a free woman.
19:21. And for his trespass he shall offer a ram to the Lord, at the
door of the tabernacle of the testimony.
19:22. And the priest shall pray for him:  and for his sin before the
Lord:  and he shall have mercy on him, and the sin shall be forgiven.
19:23. When you shall be come into the land, and shall have planted in
it fruit trees, you shall take away the firstfruits of them.  The fruit
that comes forth shall be unclean to you:  neither shall you eat of
Firstfruits. . .Proeputia, literally, their foreskins; it alludes to
circumcision, and signifies that for the first three years the trees
were to be as uncircumcised, and their fruit unclean:  till in the
fourth year their increase was sanctified and given to the Lord, that
is, to the priests.
19:24. But in the fourth year, all their fruit shall be sanctified, to
the praise of the Lord.
19:25. And in the fifth year you shall eat the fruits thereof,
gathering the increase thereof.  I am the Lord your God.
19:26. You shall not eat with blood.  You shall not divine nor observe
19:27. Nor shall you cut your hair roundwise:  nor shave your beard.
19:28. You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh, for the dead:
neither shall you make in yourselves any figures or marks.  I am the
19:29. Make not thy daughter a common strumpet, lest the land be
defiled, and filled with wickedness.
19:30. Keep ye my sabbaths, and reverence my sanctuary.  I am the Lord.
19:31. Go not aside after wizards:  neither ask any thing of
soothsayers, to be defiled by them.  I am the Lord your God.
19:32. Rise up before the hoary head, and honour the person of the aged
man:  and fear the Lord thy God.  I am the Lord.
19:33. If a stranger dwell in your land, and abide among you, do not
upbraid hin:
19:34. But let him be among you as one of the same country.  And you
shall love him as yourselves:  for you were strangers in the land of
Egypt.  I am the Lord your God.
19:35. Do not any unjust thing in judgment, in rule, in weight, or in
19:36. Let the balance be just and the weights equal, the bushel just,
and the sextary equal.  I am the Lord your God, that brought you out of
the land of Egypt.
19:37. Keep all my precepts, and all my judgments:  and do them.  I am
Leviticus Chapter 20
Divers crimes to be punished with death.
20:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
20:2. Thus shalt thou say to the children of Israel:  If any man of the
children Israel, or of the strangers that dwell in Israel, give of his
seed to the idol Moloch, dying let him die.  The people of the land
shall stone him.
20:3. And I will set my face against him:  and I will cut him off from
the midst of his people, because he hath given of his seed to Moloch,
and hath defiled my sanctuary, and profaned my holy name.
20:4. And if the people of the land neglecting, and as it were little
regarding my commandment, let alone the man that hath given of his seed
to Moloch, and will not kill him:
20:5. I will set my face against that man, and his kindred, and will
cut off both him and all that consented with him, to commit fornication
with Moloch, out of the midst of their people.
20:6. The soul that shall go aside after magicians, and soothsayers,
and shall commit fornication with them:  I will set my face against that
soul, and destroy it out of the midst of its people.
20:7. Sanctify yourselves, and be ye holy:  because I am the Lord your
20:8. Keep my precepts, and do them.  I am the Lord that sanctify you.
20:9. He that curseth his father, or mother, dying let him die.  He hath
cursed his father, and mother:  let his blood be upon him.
20:10. If any man commit adultery with the wife of another, and defile
his neighbour's wife:  let them be put to death, both the adulterer and
the adulteress.
20:11. If a man lie with his stepmother, and discover the nakedness of
his father, let them both be put to death:  their blood be upon them.
20:12. If any man lie with his daughter in law:  let both die, because
they have done a heinous crime.  Their blood be upon them.
20:13. If any one lie with a man as with a woman, both have committed
an abomination:  let them be put to death.  Their blood be upon them.
20:14. If any man after marrying the daughter, marry her mother, he
hath done a heinous crime.  He shall be burnt alive with them:  neither
shall so great an abomination remain in the midst of you.
20:15. He that shall copulate with any beast or cattle, dying let him
die:  the beast also ye shall kill.
The beast also ye shall kill. . .The killing of the beast was for the
greater horror of the crime, and to prevent the remembrance of such
abomination.
20:16. The woman that shall lie under any beast, shall be killed
together with the same.  Their blood be upon them.
20:17. If any man take his sister, the daughter of his father, or the
daughter of his mother, and see her nakedness, and she behold her
brother's shame:  they have committed a crime.  They shall be slain, in
the sight of their people, because they have discovered one another's
nakedness.  And they shall bear their iniquity.
20:18. If any man lie with a woman in her flowers, and uncover her
nakedness, and she open the fountain of her blood:  both shall be
destroyed out of the midst of their people.
20:19. Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy aunt by thy mother,
and of thy aunt by thy father.  He that doth this, hath uncovered the
shame of his own flesh:  both shall bear their iniquity.
20:20. If any man lie with the wife of his uncle by the father, or of
his uncle by the mother, and uncover the shame of his near akin, both
shall bear their sin.  They shall die without children.
20:21. He that marrieth his brother's wife, doth an unlawful thing:  he
hath uncovered his brother's nakedness.  They shall be without children.
20:22. Keep my laws and my judgments, and do them:  lest the land into
which you are to enter to dwell therein, vomit you also out.
20:23. Walk not after the laws of the nations, which I will cast out
before you.  For they have done all these things:  and therefore I
abhorred them.
20:24. But to you I say:  Possess their land which I will give you for
an inheritance, a land flowing with milk and honey.  I am the Lord your
God, who have separated you from other people.
20:25. Therefore do you also separate the clean beast from the unclean,
and the clean fowl from the unclean.  Defile not your souls with beasts,
or birds, or any things that move on the earth, and which I have shewn
you to be unclean:
20:26. You shall be holy unto me, because I the Lord am holy:  and I
have separated you from other people, that you should be mine.
20:27. A man, or woman, in whom there is a pythonical or divining
spirit, dying let them die.  They shall stone them.  Their blood be upon
Leviticus Chapter 21
Ordinances relating to the priests.
21:1. The Lord said also to Moses:  Speak to the priests the sons of
Aaron, and thou shalt say for them:  Let not a priest incur an
uncleanness at the death of his citizens.
An uncleanness. . .Viz., such as was contracted in laying out the dead
body, or touching it; or in going into the house, or assisting at the
funeral, etc.
21:2. But only for his kin, such as are near in blood:  that is to say,
for his father and for his mother, and for his son, and for his
daughter, for his brother also:
21:3. And for a maiden sister, who hath had no husband.
21:4. But not even for the prince of his people shall he do any thing
that may make him unclean.
21:5. Neither shall they shave their head, nor their beard, nor make
incisions in their flesh.
21:6. They shall be holy to their God, and shall not profane his name.
For they offer the burnt offering of the Lord, and the bread of their
God:  and therefore they shall be holy.
21:7. They shall not take to wife a harlot or a vile prostitute, nor
one that has been put away from her husband:  because they are
consecrated to their God,
21:8. And offer the loaves of proposition.  Let them therefore be holy
because I also am holy:  the Lord, who sanctify them.
21:9. If the daughter of a priest be taken in whoredom and dishonour
the name of her father, she shall be burnt with fire.
21:10. The high priest, that is to say, the priest who is the greatest
among his brethren, upon whose head the oil of unction hath been
poured; and whose hands have been consecrated for the priesthood; and
who hath been vested with the holy vestments.  He shall not uncover his
head:  he shall not rend his garments.
21:11. Nor shall he go in at all to any dead person:  not even for his
father, or his mother, shall he be defiled.
21:12. Neither shall he go out of the holy places, lest he defile the
sanctuary of the Lord:  because the oil of the holy unction of his God
is upon him.  I am the Lord.
21:13. He shall take a virgin unto his wife.
21:14. But a widow or one that is divorced, or defied, or a harlot, he
shall not take:  but a maid of his own people.
21:15. He shall not mingle the stock of his kindred with the common
people of this nation:  for I am the Lord who sanctify him.
21:16. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
21:17. Say to Aaron:  Whosoever of thy seed throughout their families,
hath a blemish, he shall not offer bread to his God.
21:18. Neither shall he approach to minister to him:  If he be blind; if
he be lame; if he have a little, or a great, or a crooked nose;
21:19. If his foot, or if his hand be broken;
21:20. If he be crookbacked; or blear eyed; or have a pearl in his eye,
or a continual scab, or a dry scurf in his body, or a rupture.
21:21. Whosoever of the seed of Aaron the priest hath a blemish:  he
shall not approach to offer sacrifices to the Lord, nor bread to his
21:22. He shall eat nevertheless of the loaves that are offered in the
21:23. Yet so that he enter not within the veil, nor approach to the
altar:  because he hath a blemish, and he must not defile my sanctuary.
I am the Lord who sanctify them.
21:24. Moses, therefore spoke to Aaron, and to his sons and to all
Israel, all the things that had been commanded him.
Leviticus Chapter 22
Who may eat the holy things:  and what things may be offered.
22:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses saying:
22:2. Speak to Aaron and to his sons, that they beware of those things
that are consecrated of the children of Israel:  and defile not the name
of the things sanctified to me, which they offer.  I am the Lord.
22:3. Say to them and to their posterity:  Every man of your race, that
approacheth to those things that are consecrated, and which the
children of Israel have offered to the Lord, in whom there is
uncleanness, shall perish before the Lord.  I am the Lord.
Approacheth, etc. . .This is to give us to understand, with what purity
of soul we are to approach to the blessed sacrament of which these
meats that had been offered in sacrifice were a figure.
22:4. The man of the seed of Aaron, that is a leper, or that suffereth
a running of the seed, shall not eat of those things that are
sanctified to me, until he be healed.  He that toucheth any thing
unclean by occasion of the dead:  and he whose seed goeth from him as in
22:5. And he that toucheth a creeping thing, or any unclean thing, the
touching of which is defiling:
22:6. Shall be unclean until the evening, and shall not eat those
things that are sanctified.  But when he hath washed his flesh with
22:7. And the sun is down, then being purified, he shall eat of the
sanctified things, because it is his meat.
22:8. That which dieth of itself, and that which was taken by a beast,
they shall not eat, nor be defiled therewith.  I am the Lord.
22:9. Let them keep my precepts, that they may not fall into sin, and
die in the sanctuary, when they shall have defiled it.  I am the Lord
who sanctify them.
22:10. No stranger shall eat of the sanctified things:  a sojourner of
the priests, or a hired servant, shall not eat of them.
22:11. But he whom the priest hath bought, and he that is his servant,
born in his house, these shall eat of them.
22:12. If the daughter of a priest be married to any of the people, she
shall not eat of those things that are sanctified nor of the
firstfruits.
22:13. But if she be a widow, or divorced, and having no children
return to her father's house, she shall eat of her father's meats, as
she was wont to do when she was a maid.  No stranger hath leave to eat
22:14. He that eateth of the sanctified things through ignorance, shall
add the fifth part with that which he ate, and shall give it to the
priest into the sanctuary.
22:15. And they shall not profane the sanctified things of the children
of Israel, which they offer to the Lord:
22:16. Lest perhaps they bear the iniquity of their trespass, when they
shall have eaten the sanctified things.  I am the Lord who sanctify
22:17. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
22:18. Speak to Aaron, and to his sons, and to all the children of
Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  The man of the house of Israel, and
of the strangers who dwell with you, that offereth his oblation, either
paying his vows, or offering of his own accord, whatsoever it be which
he presenteth for a holocaust of the Lord,
22:19. To be offered by you:  it shall be a male without blemish of the
beeves, or of the sheep, or of the goats.
22:20. If it have a blemish you shall not offer it:  neither shall it be
22:21. The man that offereth a victim of peace offerings to the Lord,
either paying his vows, or offering of his own accord, whether of
beeves or of sheep, shall offer it without blemish, that it may be
acceptable.  There shall be no blemish in it.
22:22. If it be blind, or broken, or have a scar or blisters, or a
scab, or a dry scurf:  you shall not offer them to the Lord, nor burn
any thing of them upon the Lord's altar.
22:23. An ox or a sheep, that hath the ear and the tail cut off, thou
mayst offer voluntarily:  but a vow may not be paid with them.
22:24. you shall not offer to the Lord any beast that hath the
testicles bruised, or crushed, or cut and taken away:  neither shall you
do any such things in your land.
22:25. you shall not offer bread to your God, from the hand of a
stranger, nor any other thing that he would give:  because they are all
corrupted, and defiled.  You shall not receive them.
22:26. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
22:27. When a bullock, or a sheep, or a goat, is brought forth, they
shall be seven days under the udder of their dam:  but the eighth day,
and thenceforth, they may be offered to the Lord.
22:28. Whether it be a cow, or a sheep, they shall not be sacrificed
the same day with their young ones.
22:29. If you immolate a victim for thanksgiving to the Lord, that he
may be favourable,
22:30. You shall eat it the same day.  There shall not any of it remain
until the morning of the next day.  I am the Lord.
22:31. Keep my commandments, and do them.  I am the Lord.
22:32. Profane not my holy name, that I may be sanctified in the midst
of the children of Israel.  I am the Lord who sanctify you:
22:33. And who brought you out of the land of Egypt, that I might be
your God.  I am the Lord.
Leviticus Chapter 23
Holy days to be kept.
23:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
23:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:
These are the feasts of the Lord, which you shall call holy.
23:3. Six days shall ye do work:  the seventh day, because it is the
rest of the sabbath, shall be called holy.  You shall do no work on that
day:  it is the sabbath of the Lord in all your habitations.
23:4. These also are the holy days of the Lord, which you must
celebrate in their seasons.
23:5. The first month, the fourteenth day of the month at evening, is
the phase of the Lord.
23:6. And the fifteenth day of the same month is the solemnity of the
unleavened bread of the Lord.  Seven days shall you eat unleavened
23:7. The first day shall be most solemn unto you, and holy:  you shall
do no servile work therein.
23:8. But you shall offer sacrifice in fire to the Lord seven days.  And
the seventh day shall be more solemn, and more holy:  and you shall do
no servile work therein.
23:9. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
23:10. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:
When you shall have entered into the land which I will give you, and
shall reap your corn, you shall bring sheaves of ears, the firstfruits
of your harvest to the priest.
23:11. Who shall lift up the sheaf before the Lord, the next day after
the sabbath, that it may be acceptable for you, and shall sanctify it.
23:12. And on the same day that the sheaf is consecrated, a lamb
without blemish of the first year shall be killed for a holocaust of
23:13. And the libations shall be offered with it:  two tenths of flour
tempered with oil, for a burnt offering of the Lord, and a most sweet
odour.  Libations also of wine, the fourth part of a hin.
23:14. You shall not eat either bread, or parched corn, or frumenty or
the harvest, until the day that you shall offer thereof to your God.  It
is a precept for ever throughout your generations, and all your
23:15. You shall count therefore from the morrow after the sabbath,
wherein you offered the sheaf of firstfruits, seven full weeks.
23:16. Even unto the morrow after the seventh week be expired, that is
to say, fifty days:  and so you shall offer a new sacrifice to the Lord.
23:17. Out of all your dwellings, two loaves of the firstfruits, of two
tenths of flour leavened, which you shall bake for the firstfruits of
23:18. And you shall offer with the loaves seven lambs without blemish
of the first year, and one calf from the herd, and they shall be for a
holocaust with their two rams:  and they shall be for a holocaust with
their libations for a most sweet odour to the Lord.
23:19. You shall offer also a buck goat for sin, and two lambs of the
first year for sacrifices of peace offerings.
23:20. And when the priest hath lifted them up with the loaves of the
firstfruits before the Lord, they shall fall to his use.
23:21. And you shall call this day most solemn, and most holy.  You
shall do no servile work therein.  It shall be an everlasting ordinance
in all your dwellings and generations.
23:22. And when you reap the corn of your land, you shall not cut it to
the very ground:  neither shall you gather the ears that remain.  But you
shall leave them for the poor and for the strangers.  I am the Lord your
23:23. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
23:24. Say to the children of Israel:  The seventh month, on the first
day of the month, you shall keep a sabbath, a memorial, with the sound
of trumpets, and it shall be called holy.
23:25. You shall do no servile work therein, and you shall offer a
holocaust to the Lord.
23:26. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
23:27. Upon the tenth day of this seventh month shall be the day of
atonement.  It shall be most solemn, and shall be called holy:  and you
shall await your souls on that day, and shall offer a holocaust to the
23:28. You shall do no servile work in the time of this day:  because it
is a day of propitiation, that the Lord your God may be merciful unto
23:29. Every soul that is not afflicted on this day, shall perish from
among his people.
23:30. And every soul that shall do any work, the same will I destroy
from among his people.
23:31. You shall do no work therefore on that day:  it shall be an
everlasting ordinance unto you in all your generations, and dwellings.
23:32. It is a sabbath of rest, and you shall afflict your souls
beginning on the ninth day of the month.  From evening until evening you
shall celebrate your sabbaths.
23:33. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
23:34. Say to the children of Israel:  From the fifteenth day of this
same seventh month, shall be kept the feast of tabernacles, seven days
to the Lord.
23:35. The first day shall be called most solemn and most holy:  you
shall do no servile work therein.  And seven days you shall offer
holocausts to the Lord.
23:36. The eighth day also shall be most solemn and most holy:  and you
shall offer holocausts to the Lord.  For it is the day of assembly and
congregation.  You shall do no servile work therein.
23:37. These are the feasts of the Lord which you shall call most
solemn and most holy, and shall offer on them oblations to the Lord:
holocausts and libations according to the rite of every day.
23:38. Besides the sabbaths of the Lord, and your gifts, and those
things that you offer by vow, or which you shall give to the Lord
voluntarily.
23:39. So from the fifteenth day of the seventh month, when you shall
have gathered in all the fruits of your land, you shall celebrate the
feast of the Lord seven days.  On the first day and the eighth shall be
a sabbath:  that is a day of rest.
23:40. And you shall take to you on the first day the fruits of the
fairest tree, and branches of palm trees, and boughs of thick trees,
and willows of the brook:  And you shall rejoice before the Lord your
23:41. And you shall keep the solemnity thereof seven days in the year.
It shall be an everlasting ordinance in your generations.  In the
seventh month shall you celebrate this feast.
23:42. And you shall dwell in bowers seven days.  Every one that is of
the race of Israel, shall dwell in tabernacles:
23:43. That your posterity may know, that I made the children of Israel
to dwell in tabernacles, when I brought them out of the land of Egypt.
I am the Lord your God.
23:44. And Moses spoke concerning the feasts of the Lord to the
children of Israel.
Leviticus Chapter 24
The oil for the lamps.  The loaves of proposition.  The punishment of
24:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
24:2. Command the children of Israel, that they bring unto thee the
finest and clearest oil of olives, to furnish the lamps continually,
24:3. Without the veil of the testimony in the tabernacle of the
covenant.  And Aaron shall set them from evening until morning before
the Lord, by a perpetual service and rite in your generations.
24:4. They shall be set upon the most pure candlestick before the Lord
continually.
24:5. Thou shalt take also fine flour, and shalt bake twelve loaves
thereof, two tenths shall be in every loaf.
24:6. And thou shalt set them six and six, one against another, upon
the most clean table before the Lord.
24:7. And thou shalt put upon them the clearest frankincense, that the
bread may be for a memorial of the oblation of the Lord.
24:8. Every sabbath they shall be changed before the Lord:  being
received of the children of Israel by an everlasting covenant.
24:9. And they shall be Aaron's and his sons', that they may eat them
in the holy place:  because it is most holy of the sacrifices of the
Lord by a perpetual right.
24:10. And behold there went out the son of a woman of Israel, whom she
had of an Egyptian, among the children of Israel:  and fell at words in
the camp with a man of Israel.
24:11. And when he had blasphemed the name, and had cursed it, he was
brought to Moses.  (Now his mother was called Salumith, the daughter of
Dabri, of the tribe of Dan.)
24:12. And they put him into prison, till they might know what the Lord
would command.
24:13. And the Lord spoke to Moses,
24:14. Saying:  Bring forth the blasphemer without the camp:  and let
them that heard him, put their hands upon his head:  and let all the
people stone him.
24:15. And thou shalt speak to the children of Israel:  The man that
curseth his God, shall bear his sin:
24:16. And he that blasphemeth the name of the Lord, dying let him die.
All the multitude shall stone him, whether he be a native or a
stranger.  He that blasphemeth the name of the Lord, dying let him die.
24:17. He that striketh and killeth a man:  dying let him die.
24:18. He that killeth a beast, shall make it good that is to say,
shall give beast for beast.
24:19. He that giveth a blemish to any of his neighbours:  as he hath
done, so shall it be done to him:
24:20. Breach for breach, eye for ere, tooth for tooth, shall he
restore.  What blemish he gave, the like shall he be compelled to
24:21. He that striketh a beast, shall render another.  He that striketh
a man shall be punished.
24:22. Let there be equal judgment among you, whether he be a stranger,
or a native that offends:  because I am the Lord your God.
24:23. And Moses spoke to the children of Israel.  And they brought
forth him that had blasphemed, without the camp:  and they stoned him.
And the children of Israel did as the Lord had commanded Moses.
Leviticus Chapter 25
The law of the seventh and of the fiftieth year of jubilee.
25:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses in mount Sinai, saying:
25:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  When
you shall have entered into the land which I will give you, observe the
rest of the sabbath of the Lord.
25:3. Six years thou shalt sow thy field and six years thou shalt prune
thy vineyard, and shalt gather the fruits thereof.
25:4. But in the seventh year there shall be a sabbath to the land, of
the resting of the Lord.  Thou shalt not sow thy field, nor prune thy
25:5. What the ground shall bring forth of itself, thou shalt not reap:
neither shalt thou gather the grapes or the firstfruits as a vintage.
For it is a year of rest to the land.
25:6. But they shall be unto you for meat, to thee and to thy
manservant, to thy maidservant and thy hireling, and to the strangers
that sojourn with thee.
25:7. All things that grow shall be meat to thy beasts and to thy
25:8. Thou shalt also number to thee seven weeks of years:  that is to
say, seven times seven, which together make forty-nine years.
25:9. And thou shalt sound the trumpet in the seventh month, the tenth
day of the month, in the time of the expiation in all your land.
25:10. And thou shalt sanctify the fiftieth year, and shalt proclaim
remission to all the inhabitants of thy land:  for it is the year of
jubilee.  Every man shall return to his possession, and every one shall
go back to his former family:
Remission. . .That is, a general release and discharge from debts and
bondage, and a reinstating of every man in his former possessions.
25:11. Because it is the jubilee and the fiftieth year.  You shall not
sow, nor reap the things that grow in the field of their own accord,
neither shall you gather the firstfruits of the vines,
25:12. Because of the sanctification of the jubilee.  But as they grow
you shall presently eat them.
25:13. In the year of the jubilee all shall return to their
possessions.
25:14. When thou shalt sell any thing to thy neighbour, or shalt buy of
him:  grieve not thy brother.  But thou shalt buy of him according to the
number of years from the jubilee.
25:15. And he shall sell to thee according to the computation of the
25:16. The more years remain after the jubilee, the more shall the
price increase:  and the less time is counted, so much the less shall
the purchase cost.  For he shall sell to thee the time of the fruits.
25:17. Do not afflict your countrymen:  but let every one fear his God.
Because I am the Lord your God.
25:18. Do my precepts, and keep my judgments, and fulfil them:  that you
may dwell in the land without any fear.
25:19. And the ground may yield you its fruits, of which you may eat
your fill, fearing no man's invasion.
25:20. But if you say:  What shall we eat the seventh year, if we sow
not, nor gather our fruits?
25:21. I will give you my blessing the sixth year:  and it shall yield
the fruits of three years.
25:22. And the eighth year you shall sow, and shall eat of the old
fruits, until the ninth year:  till new grow up, you shall eat the old
25:23. The land also shall not be sold for ever:  because it is mine,
and you are strangers and sojourners with me.
25:24. For which cause all the country of your possession shall be
under the condition of redemption.
25:25. If thy brother being impoverished sell his little possession,
and his kinsman will:  he may redeem what he had sold.
25:26. But if he have no kinsman, and he himself can find the price to
25:27. The value of the fruits shall be counted from that time when he
sold it.  And the overplus he shall restore to the buyer, and so shall
receive his possession again.
25:28. But if his hands find not the means to repay the price, the
buyer shall have what he bought, until the year of the jubilee.  For in
that year all that is sold shall return to the owner, and to the
ancient possessor.
25:29. He that selleth a house within the walls of a city, shall have
the liberty to redeem it, until one year be expired.
25:30. If he redeem it not, and the whole year be fully out, the buyer
shall possess it, and his posterity for ever, and it cannot be
redeemed, not even in the jubilee.
25:31. But if the house be in a village, that hath no walls, it shall
be sold according to the same law as the fields.  If it be not redeemed
before, in the jubilee it shall return to the owner.
25:32. The houses of Levites, which are in cities, may always be
25:33. If they be not redeemed, in the jubilee they shall all return to
the owners:  because the houses of the cities of the Levites are for
their possessions among the children of Israel.
25:34. But let not their suburbs be sold, because it is a perpetual
25:35. If thy brother be impoverished, and weak of hand, and thou
receive him as a stranger and sojourner, and he live with thee:
25:36. Take not usury of him nor more than thou gavest.  Fear thy God,
that thy brother may live with thee.
25:37. Thou shalt not give him thy money upon usury:  nor exact of him
any increase of fruits.
25:38. I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of
Egypt, that I might give you the land of Chanaan, and might be your
25:39. If thy brother constrained by poverty, sell himself to thee:
thou shalt not oppress him with the service of bondservants.
25:40. But he shall be as a hireling, and a sojourner:  he shall work
with thee until the year of the jubilee.
25:41. And afterwards he shall go out with his children:  and shall
return to his kindred and to the possession of his fathers.
25:42. For they are my servants, and I brought them out of the land of
Egypt:  let them not be sold as bondmen.
25:43. Afflict him not by might:  but fear thy God.
25:44. Let your bondmen, and your bondwomen, be of the nations that are
round about you:
25:45. And of the strangers that sojourn among you, or that were born
of them in your land.  These you shall have for servants:
25:46. And by right of inheritance shall leave them to your posterity,
and shall possess them for ever.  But oppress not your brethren the
children of Israel by might.
25:47. If the hand of a stranger or a sojourner grow strong among you,
and thy brother being impoverished sell himself to him, or to any of
25:48. After the sale he may be redeemed.  He that will of his brethren
shall redeem him:
25:49. Either his uncle, or his uncle's son, or his kinsman, by blood,
or by affinity.  But if he himself be able also, he shall redeem
25:50. Counting only the years from the time of his selling unto the
year of the jubilee:  and counting the money that he was sold for,
according to the number of the years and the reckoning of a hired
25:51. If there be many years that remain until the jubilee, according
to them shall he also repay the price.
25:52. If few, he shall make the reckoning with him according to the
number of the years:  and shall repay to the buyer of what remaineth of
25:53. His wages being allowed for which he served before:  he shall not
afflict him violently in thy sight.
25:54. And if by these means he cannot be redeemed, in the year of the
jubilee he shall go out with his children.
25:55. For the children of Israel are my servants, whom I brought forth
out of the land of Egypt.
Leviticus Chapter 26
God's promises to them that keep his commandments.  And the many
punishments with which he threatens transgressors.
26:1. I am the Lord your God.  You shall not make to yourselves any idol
or graven thing:  neither shall you erect pillars, nor set up a
remarkable stone in your land, to adore it.  For I am the Lord your God.
26:2. Keep my sabbaths, and reverence my sanctuary.  I am the Lord.
26:3. If you walk in my precepts, and keep my commandments, and do
them, I will give you rain in due seasons.
26:4. And the ground shall bring forth its increase:  and the trees
shall be filled with fruit.
26:5. The threshing of your harvest shall reach unto the vintage, and
the vintage shall reach unto the sowing time:  and you shall eat your
bread to the full, and dwell in your land without fear.
26:6. I will give peace in your coasts:  you shall sleep, and there
shall be none to make you afraid.  I will take away evil beasts:  and the
sword shall not pass through your quarters.
26:7. You shall pursue your enemies:  and they shall fall before you.
26:8. Five of yours shall pursue a hundred others:  and a hundred of you
ten thousand.  Your enemies shall fall before you by the sword.
26:9. I will look on you, and make you increase:  you shall be
multiplied, and I will establish my covenant with you.
26:10. You shall eat the oldest of the old store:  and, new coming on,
you shall cast away the old.
26:11. I will set my tabernacle in the midst of you:  and my soul shall
not cast you off.
26:12. I will walk among you, and will be your God:  and you shall be my
26:13. I am the Lord your God:  who have brought you out of the land of
the Egyptians, that you should not serve them:  and who have broken the
chains of your necks, that you might go upright.
26:14. But if you will not hear me, nor do all my commandments:
26:15. If you despise my laws, and contemn my judgments so as not to do
those things which are appointed by me, and to make void my covenant:
26:16. I also will do these things to you.  I will quickly visit you
with poverty, and burning heat, which shall waste your eyes, and
consume your lives.  You shall sow your seed in vain, which shall be
devoured by your enemies.
26:17. I will set my face against you, and you shall fall down before
your enemies:  and shall be made subject to them that hate you.  You
shall flee when no man pursueth you.
26:18. But if you will not yet for all this obey me:  I will chastise
you seven times more for your sins.
26:19. And I will break the pride of your stubbornness:  and I will make
to you the heaven above as iron, and the earth as brass.
26:20. Your labour shall be spent in vain:  the ground shall not bring
forth her increase:  nor the trees yield their fruit.
26:21. If you walk contrary to me, and will not hearken to me, I will
bring seven times more plagues upon you for your sins.
26:22. And I will send in upon you the beasts of the field, to destroy
you and your cattle, and make you few in number:  and that your highways
may be desolate.
26:23. And if even so you will not amend, but will walk contrary to me:
26:24. I also will walk contrary to you, and will strike you seven
times for your sins.
26:25. And I will bring in upon you the sword that shall avenge my
covenant.  And when you shall flee into the cities, I will send the
pestilence in the midst of you.  And you shall be delivered into the
hands of your enemies,
26:26. After I shall have broken the staff of your bread:  so that ten
women shall bake your bread in one oven, and give it out by weight:  and
you shall eat, and shall not be filled,
26:27. But if you will not for all this hearken to me, but will walk
26:28. I will also go against you with opposite fury:  and I will
chastise you with seven plagues for your sins,
26:29. So that you shall eat the flesh of your sons and of your
26:30. I will destroy your high places, and break your idols.  You shall
fall among the ruins of your idols, and my soul shall abhor you.
26:31. Insomuch that I will bring your cities to be a wilderness:  and I
will make your sanctuaries desolate:  and will receive no more your
sweet odours.
26:32. And I will destroy your land:  and your enemies shall be
astonished at it, when they shall be the inhabitants thereof.
26:33. And I will scatter you among the Gentiles:  and I will draw out
the sword after you.  And your land shall be desert, and your cities
26:34. Then shall the land enjoy her sabbaths all the days of her
desolation.  When you shall be
26:35. In the enemy's land, she shall keep a sabbath, and rest in the
sabbaths of her desolation:  because she did not rest in your sabbaths,
when you dwelt therein.
26:36. And as to them that shall remain of you I will send fear in
their hearts in the countries of their enemies.  The sound of a flying
leaf shall terrify them:  and they shall flee as it were from the sword.
They shall fall, when no man pursueth them.
26:37. And they shall every one fall upon their brethren as fleeing
from wars:  none of you shall dare to resist your enemies.
26:38. You shall perish among the Gentiles:  and an enemy's land shall
consume you.
26:39. And if of them also some remain, they shall pine away in their
iniquities, in the land of their enemies:  and they shall be afflicted
for the sins of their fathers, and their own.
26:40. Until they confess their iniquities, and the iniquities of their
ancestors, whereby they have transgressed against me, and walked
contrary unto me.
26:41. Therefore I also will walk against them, and bring them into
their enemies' land until their uncircumcised mind be ashamed.  Then
shall they pray for their sins.
26:42. And I will remember my covenant, that I made with Jacob, and
Isaac, and Abraham.  I will remember also the land:
26:43. Which when she shall be left by them, shall enjoy her sabbaths,
being desolate for them.  But they shall pray for their sins, because
they rejected my judgments, and despised my laws.
26:44. And yet for all that when they were in the land of their
enemies, I did not cast them off altogether.  Neither did I so despise
them that they should be quite consumed:  and I should make void my
covenant with them.  For I am the Lord their God.
26:45. And I will remember my former covenant, when I brought them out
of the land of Egypt, in the sight of the Gentiles, to be their God.  I
am the Lord.  These are the judgments, and precepts, and laws, which the
Lord gave between him and the children of Israel, in mount Sinai, by
the hand of Moses.
Leviticus Chapter 27
Of vows and tithes.
27:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
27:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  The
man that shall have made a vow, and promised his soul to God, shall
give the price according to estimation.
27:3. If it be a man from twenty years old unto sixty years old, he
shall give fifty sicles of silver, after the weight of the sanctuary:
27:4. If a woman, thirty.
27:5. But from the fifth year until the twentieth, a man shall give
twenty sicles:  a woman ten.
27:6. From one month until the fifth year, for a male shall be given
five sicles:  for a female three.
27:7. A man that is sixty years old or upward, shall give fifteen
sicles:  a woman ten.
27:8. If he be poor, and not able to pay the estimation, he shall stand
before the priest:  and as much as he shall value him at, and see him
able to pay, so much shall he give.
27:9. But a beast that may be sacrificed to the Lord, if any one shall
vow, shall be holy,
27:10. And cannot be changed:  that is to say, neither a better for a
worse, nor a worse for a better.  And if he shall change it:  both that
which was changed, and that for which it was changed, shall be
consecrated to the Lord.
27:11. An unclean beast, which cannot be sacrificed to the Lord, if any
man shall vow, shall be brought before the priest:
27:12. Who judging whether it be good or bad, shall set the price.
27:13. Which, if he that offereth it will give, he shall add above the
estimation the fifth part.
27:14. If a man shall vow his house, and sanctify it to the Lord, the
priest shall consider it, whether it be good or bad:  and it shall be
sold according to the price, which he shall appoint.
27:15. But if he that vowed, will redeem it, he shall give the fifth
part of the estimation over and above:  and shall have the house.
27:16. And if he vow the field of his possession, and consecrate it to
the Lord, the price shall be rated according to the measure of the
seed.  If the ground be sown with thirty bushels of barley, let it be
sold for fifty sicles of silver.
27:17. If he vow his field immediately from the year of jubilee that is
beginning:  as much as it may be worth, at so much it shall be rated.
27:18. But if some time after, the priest shall reckon the money
according to the number of years that remain until the jubilee, and the
price shall be abated.
27:19. And if he that had vowed, will redeem his field, he shall add
the fifth part of the money of the estimation, and shall possess it.
27:20. And if he will not redeem it, but it be sold to any other man,
he that vowed it, may not redeem it any more.
27:21. For when the day of jubilee cometh, it shall be sanctified to
the Lord, and as a possession consecrated, pertaineth to the right of
27:22. If a field that was bought, and not of a man's ancestors'
possession, be sanctified to the Lord:
27:23. The priest shall reckon the price according to the number of
years, unto the jubilee.  And he that had vowed, shall give that to the
27:24. But in the jubilee, it shall return to the former owner, who had
sold it, and had it in the lot of his possession.
27:25. All estimation shall be made according to the sicle of the
sanctuary.  A sicle hath twenty obols.
27:26. The firstborn, which belong to the Lord, no man may sanctify and
vow:  whether it be bullock, or sheep, they are the Lord's.
27:27. And if it be an unclean beast, he that offereth it shall redeem
it, according to thy estimation, and shall add the fifth part of the
price.  If he will not redeem it, it shall be sold to another for how
much soever it was estimated by thee.
27:28. Any thing that is devoted to the Lord, whether it be man, or
beast, or field, shall not be sold:  neither may it be redeemed.
Whatsoever is once consecrated shall be holy of holies to the Lord.
27:29. And any consecration that is offered by man, shall not be
redeemed, but dying shall die.
27:30. All tithes of the land, whether of corn, or of the fruits of
trees, are the Lord's, and are sanctified to him.
27:31. And if any man will redeem his tithes, he shall add the fifth
part of them.
27:32. Of all the tithes of oxen, and sheep, and goats, that pass under
the shepherd's rod, every tenth that cometh shall be sanctified to the
27:33. It shall not be chosen neither good nor bad, neither shall it be
changed for another.  If any man change it:  both that which was changed,
and that for which it was changed, shall be sanctified to the Lord, and
shall not be redeemed.
27:34. These are the precepts which the Lord commanded Moses for the
children of Israel in mount Sinai.
THE BOOK OF NUMBERS
This fourth Book of Moses is called NUMBERS, because it begins with the
numbering of the people.  The Hebrews, from its first words, call it
VAIEDABBER.  It contains the transactions of the Israelites from the
second month of the second year after their going out of Egypt, until
the beginning of the eleventh month of the fortieth year; that is, a
history almost of thirty-nine years.
Numbers Chapter 1
The children of Israel are numbered:  the Levites are designed to serve
the tabernacle.
1:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses in the desert of Sinai in the
tabernacle of the covenant, the first day of the second month, the
second year of their going out of Egypt, saying:
1:2. Take the sum of all the congregation of the children of Israel by
their families, and houses, and the names of every one, as many as are
of the male sex,
1:3. From twenty years old and upwards, of all the men of Israel fit
for war, and you shall number them by their troops, thou and Aaron.
1:4. And there shall be with you the princes of the tribes, and of the
houses in their kindreds,
1:5. Whose names are these:  Of Ruben, Elisur the son of Sedeur.
1:6. Of Simeon, Salamiel the son of Surisaddai.
1:7. Of Juda, Nahasson the son of Aminadab.
1:8. Of Issachar, Nathanael the son of Suar.
1:9. Of Zabulon, Eliab the son of Helon.
1:10. And of the sons of Joseph:  of Ephraim, Elisama the son of Ammiud:
of Manasses, Gamaliel the son of Phadassur.
1:11. Of Benjamin, Abidan the son of Gedeon.
1:12. Of Dan, Ahiezer the son of Ammisaddai.
1:13. Of Aser, Phegiel the son of Ochran.
1:14. Of Gad, Eliasaph the son of Duel.
1:15. Of Nephtali, Ahira the son of Enan.
1:16. These are the most noble princes of the multitude by their tribes
and kindreds, and the chiefs of the army of Israel:
1:17. Whom Moses and Aaron took with all the multitude of the common
1:18. And assembled them on the first day of the second month,
reckoning them up by the kindreds, and houses, and families, and heads,
and names of every one from twenty years old and upward,
1:19. As the Lord had commanded Moses.  And they were numbered in the
desert of Sinai.
1:20. Of Ruben the eldest son of Israel, by their generations and
families and houses and names of every head, all that were of the male
sex, from twenty years old and upward, that were able to go forth to
1:21. Were forty-six thousand five hundred.
1:22. Of the sons of Simeon by their generations and families, and
houses of their kindreds, were reckoned up by the names and heads of
every one, all that were of the male sex, from twenty years old and
upward, that were able to go forth to war,
1:23. Fifty-nine thousand three hundred.
1:24. Of the sons of Gad, by their generations and families and houses
of their kindreds were reckoned up by the names of every one from
twenty years old and upward, all that were able to go forth to war,
1:25. Forty-five thousand six hundred and fifty.
1:26. Of the sons of Juda, by their generations and families and houses
of their kindreds, by the names of every one from twenty years old and
upward, all that were able to go forth to war,
1:27. Were reckoned up seventy-four thousand six hundred.
1:28. Of the sons of Issachar, by their generations and families and
houses of their kindreds, by the names of every one from twenty years
old and upward, all that could go forth to war,
1:29. Were reckoned up fifty-four thousand four hundred.
1:30. Of the sons of Zabulon, by the generations and families and
houses of their kindreds, were reckoned up by the names of every one
from twenty years old and upward, all that were able to go forth to
1:31. Fifty-seven thousand four hundred.
1:32. Of the sons of Joseph, namely, of the sons of Ephraim, by the
generations and families and houses of their kindreds, were reckoned up
by the names of every one, from twenty years old and upward, all that
were able to go forth to war,
1:33. Forty thousand five hundred.
1:34. Moreover of the sons of Manasses, by the generations and families
and houses of their kindreds, were reckoned up by the names of every
one from twenty years old and upward, all that could go forth to war,
1:35. Thirty-two thousand two hundred.
1:36. Of the sons of Benjamin, by their generations and families and
houses of their kindreds, were reckoned up by the names of every one
from twenty years old and upward, all that were able to go forth to
1:37. Thirty-five thousand four hundred.
1:38. Of the sons of Dan, by their generations and families and houses
of their kindreds, were reckoned up by the names of every one from
twenty years old and upward, all that were able to go forth to war,
1:39. Sixty-two thousand seven hundred.
1:40. Of the sons of Aser, by their generations and families and houses
of their kindreds, were reckoned up by the names of every one from
twenty years old and upward, all that were able to go forth to war,
1:41. Forty-one thousand and five hundred.
1:42. Of the sons of Nephtali, by their generations and families and
houses of their kindreds, were reckoned up by the names of every one
from twenty years old and upward, were able to go forth to war,
1:43. Fifty-three thousand four hundred.
1:44. These are they who were numbered by Moses and Aaron, and the
twelve princes of Israel, every one by the houses of their kindreds.
1:45. And the whole number of the children of Israel by their houses
and families, from twenty years old and upward, that were able to go to
1:46. Were six hundred and three thousand five hundred and fifty men.
1:47. But the Levites in the tribes of their families were not numbered
1:48. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
1:49. Number not the tribe of Levi, neither shalt thou put down the sum
of them with the children of Israel:
1:50. But appoint them over the tabernacle of the testimony, and all
the vessels thereof, and whatsoever pertaineth to the ceremonies.  They
shall carry the tabernacle and all the furniture thereof:  and they
shall minister, and shall encamp round about the tabernacle.
1:51. When you are to go forward, the Levites shall take down the
tabernacle:  when you are to camp, they shall set it up.  What stranger
soever cometh to it, shall be slain.
1:52. And the children of Israel shall camp every man by his troops and
bands and army.
1:53. But the Levites shall pitch their tents round about the
tabernacle, lest there come indignation upon the multitude of the
children of Israel, and they shall keep watch, and guard the tabernacle
of the testimony.
1:54. And the children of Israel did according to all things which the
Lord had commanded Moses.
Numbers Chapter 2
The order of the tribes in their camp.
2:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
2:2. All the children of Israel shall camp by their troops, ensigns,
and standards, and the houses of their kindreds, round about the
tabernacle of the covenant.
2:3. On the east Juda shall pitch his tents by the bands of his army:
and the prince of his sons; shall be Nahasson the son of Aminadab.
2:4. And the whole sum of the fighting men of his stock, were
seventy-four thousand six hundred.
2:5. Next unto him they of the tribe of Issachar encamped, whose prince
was Nathanael, the son of Suar.
2:6. And the whole number of his fighting men were fifty-four thousand
four hundred.
2:7. In the tribe of Zabulon the prince was Eliab the son of Helon.
2:8. And all the army of fighting men of his stock, were fifty-seven
thousand four hundred.
2:9. All that were numbered in the camp of Juda, were a hundred and
eighty-six thousand four hundred:  and they by their troops shall march
2:10. In the camp of the sons of Ruben, on the south side, the prince
shall be Elisur the son of Sedeur:
2:11. And the whole army of his fighting men, that were numbered, were
forty-six thousand five hundred.
2:12. Beside him camped they of the tribe of Simeon:  whose prince was
Salamiel the son of Surisaddai.
2:13. And the whole army of his fighting men, that were numbered, were
fifty-nine thousand three hundred.
2:14. In the tribe of Gad the prince was Eliasaph the son of Duel.
2:15. And the whole army of his righting men that were numbered, were
forty-five thousand six hundred and fifty.
2:16. All that were reckoned up in the camp of Ruben, were a hundred
and fifty-one thousand four hundred and fifty, by their troops:  they
shall march in the second place.
2:17. And the tabernacle of the testimony shall be carried by the
officers of the Levites and their troops.  As it shall be set up, so
shall it be taken down.  Every one shall march according to their
places, and ranks.
2:18. On the west side shall be the camp of the sons of Ephraim, whose
prince was Elisama the son of Ammiud.
2:19. The whole army of his fighting men, that were numbered, were
forty thousand five hundred.
2:20. And with them the tribe of the sons of Manasses, whose prince was
Gamaliel the son of Phadassur.
2:21. And the whole army of his fighting men, that were numbered, were
thirty-two thousand two hundred.
2:22. In the tribe of the sons of Benjamin the prince was Abidan the
son of Gedeon.
2:23. And the whole army of fighting men, that were reckoned up, were
thirty-five thousand four hundred.
2:24. All that were numbered in the camp of Ephraim, were a hundred and
eight-thousand one hundred by their troops:  they shall march in the
third place.
2:25. On the north side camped the sons of Dan:  whose prince was
Ahiezar the son of Ammisaddai.
2:26. The whole army of his fighting men, that were numbered, were
sixty-two thousand seven hundred.
2:27. Beside him they of the tribe of Aser pitched their tents:  whose
prince was Phegiel the son of Ochran.
2:28. The whole army of his fighting men, that were numbered, were
forty-one thousand five hundred.
2:29. Of the tribe of the sons of Nephtali the prince was Ahira the son
2:30. The whole army of his fighting men, were fifty-three thousand
four hundred.
2:31. All that were numbered in the camp of Dan, were a hundred and
fifty-seven thousand six hundred:  and they shall march last.
2:32. This is the number of the children of Israel, of their army
divided according to the houses of their kindreds and their troops, six
hundred and three thousand five hundred and fifty.
2:33. And the Levites were not numbered among the children of Israel:
for so the Lord had commanded Moses.
2:34. And the children of Israel did according to all things that the
Lord had commanded.  They camped by their troops, and marched by the
families and houses of their fathers.
Numbers Chapter 3
The Levites are numbered and their offices distinguished.  They are
taken in the place of the firstborn of the children of Israel.
3:1. These are the generations of Aaron and Moses in the day that the
Lord spoke to Moses in mount Sinai.
3:2. And these the names of the sons of Aaron:  his firstborn Nadab,
then Abiu, and Eleazar, and Ithamar.
3:3. These the names of the sons of Aaron the priests that were
anointed, and whose hands were filled and consecrated, to do the
functions of priesthood.
3:4. Now Nadab and Abiu died, without children, when they offered
strange fire before the Lord, in the desert of Sinai:  and Eleazar and
Ithamar performed the priestly office in the presence of Aaron their
3:5. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
3:6. Bring the tribe of Levi, and make them stand in the sight of Aaron
the priest to minister to him, and let them watch,
3:7. And observe whatsoever appertaineth to the service of the
multitude before the tabernacle of the testimony,
3:8. And let them keep the vessels of the tabernacle, serving in the
ministry thereof.
3:9. And thou shalt give the Levites for a gift,
3:10. To Aaron and to his sons, to whom they are delivered by the
children of Israel.  But thou shalt appoint Aaron and his sons over the
service of priesthood.  The stranger that approacheth to minister, shall
be put to death.
3:11. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
3:12. I have taken the Levites from the children of Israel, for every
firstborn that openeth the womb among the children of Israel, and the
Levites shall be mine.
3:13. For every firstborn is mine:  since I struck the firstborn in the
land of Egypt:  I have sanctified to myself whatsoever is firstborn in
Israel both of man and beast, they are mine:  I am the Lord.
3:14. And the Lord spoke to Moses in the desert of Sinai, saying:
3:15. Number the sons of Levi by the houses of their fathers and their
families, every male from one month and upward.
3:16. Moses numbered them as the Lord had commanded.
3:17. And there were found sons of Levi by their names, Gerson and
Caath Merari.
3:18. The sons of Gerson:  Lebni and Semei.
3:19. The sons of Caath:  Amram, and Jesaar, Hebron and Oziel:
3:20. The sons of Merari, Moholi and Musi.
3:21. Of Gerson were two families, the Lebnites, and the Semeites:
3:22. Of which were numbered, people of the male sex from one month and
upward, seven thousand five hundred.
3:23. These shall pitch behind the tabernacle on the west,
3:24. Under their prince Eliasaph the son of Lael.
3:25. And their charge shall be in the tabernacle of the covenant:
3:26. The tabernacle itself and the cover thereof, the hanging that is
drawn before the doors of the tabernacle of the covenant, and the
curtains of the court:  the hanging also that is hanged in the entry of
the court of the tabernacle, and whatsoever belongeth to the rite of
the altar, the cords of the tabernacle, and all the furniture thereof.
3:27. Of the kindred of Caath come the families of the Amramites and
Jesaarites and Hebronites and Ozielites.  These are the families of the
Caathites reckoned up by their names:
3:28. All of the male sex from one month and upward, eight thousand six
hundred:  they shall have the guard of the sanctuary,
3:29. And shall camp on the south side.
3:30. And their prince shall be Elisaphan the son of Oziel:
3:31. And they shall keep the ark, and the table and the candlestick,
the altars, and the vessels of the sanctuary, wherewith they minister,
and the veil, and all the furniture of this kind.
3:32. And the prince of the princes of the Levites, Eleazar, the son of
Aaron the priest, shall be over them that watch for the guard of the
3:33. And of Merari are the families of the Moholites, and Musites,
reckoned up by their names:
3:34. All of the male kind from one month and upward, six thousand two
3:35. Their prince Suriel the son of Abihaiel:  their shall camp on the
3:36. Under their custody shall be the boards of the tabernacle, and
the bars, and the pillars and their sockets, and all things that
pertain to this kind of service:
3:37. And the pillars of the court round about with their sockets, and
the pins with their cords.
3:38. Before the tabernacle of the covenant, that is to say on the east
side shall Moses and Aaron camp, with their sons, having the custody of
the sanctuary, in the midst of the children of Israel.  What stranger
soever cometh unto it, shall be put to death.
3:39. All the Levites, that I Moses and Aaron numbered according to the
precept of the Lord, by their f families, of the male kind from one
month and upward, were twenty-two thousand.
3:40. And the Lord said to Moses:  Number the firstborn of the male sex
of the children of Israel, from one month and upward, and thou shalt
take the sum of them.
3:41. And thou shalt take the Levites to me for all the firstborn of
the children of Israel, I am the Lord:  and their cattle for all the
firstborn of the cattle of the children of Israel:
3:42. Moses reckoned up, as the Lord had commanded, the firstborn of
the children of Israel:
3:43. And the males by their names, from one month and upward, were
twenty-two thousand two hundred and seventy-three.
3:44. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
3:45. Take the Levites for the firstborn of the children of Israel, and
the cattle of the Levites for their cattle, and the Levites shall be
mine.  I am the Lord.
3:46. But for the price of the two hundred and seventy-three, of the
firstborn of the children of Israel, that exceed the number of the
3:47. Thou shalt take five sicles for every bead, according to the
weight of the sanctuary.  A sicle hath twenty obols.
3:48. And thou shalt give the money to Aaron and his sons, the price of
them that are above.
3:49. Moses therefore took the money of them that were above, and whom
they had redeemed from the Levites,
3:50. For the firstborn of the children of Israel, one thousand three
hundred and sixty-five sicles, according to the weight of the
3:51. And gave it to Aaron and his sons according to the word that the
Lord had commanded him.
Numbers Chapter 4
The age and time of the Levites' service:  their offices and burdens.
4:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, and Aaron, saying:
4:2. Take the sum of the sons of Caath from the midst of the Levites,
by their houses and families.
4:3. From thirty years old and upward, to fifty years old, of all that
go in to stand and to minister in the tabernacle of the covenant.
4:4. This is the service of the sons of Caath:
4:5. When the camp is; to set forward, Aaron and his sons shall go into
the tabernacle of the covenant, and the holy of holies, and shall take
down the veil that hangeth before the door, and shall wrap up the ark
of the testimony in it,
4:6. And shall cover it again with a cover of violet skins, and shall
spread over it a cloth all of violet, and shall put in the bars.
4:7. They shall wrap up also the table of proposition in a cloth of
violet, and shall put with it the censers and little mortars, the cups
and bowls to pour out the libations:  the loaves shall be always on it:
4:8. And they shall spread over it a cloth of scarlet, which again they
shall cover with a covering of violet skins, and shall put in the bars.
4:9. They shall take also a cloth of violet wherewith they shall cover
the candlestick with the lamps and tongs thereof and the snuffers and
all the oil vessels, which are necessary for the dressing of the lamps:
4:10. And over all they shall put a cover of violet skins and put in
4:11. And they shall wrap up the golden altar also in a cloth of
violet, and shall spread over it a cover of violet skins, and put in
4:12. All the vessels wherewith they minister in the sanctuary, they
shall wrap up in a cloth of violet, and shall spread over it a cover of
violet skins, and put in the bars.
4:13. They shall cleanse the altar also from the ashes, and shall wrap
it up in a purple cloth,
4:14. And shall put it with all the vessels that they use in the
ministry thereof, that is to say, firepans, fleshhooks and forks,
pothooks and shovels.  They shall cover all the vessels of the altar
together with a covering of violet skins, and shall put in the bars.
4:15. And when Aaron and his sons have wrapped up the sanctuary and the
vessels thereof at the removing of the camp, then shall the sons of
Caath enter in to carry the things wrapped up:  and they shall not touch
the vessels of the sanctuary, lest they die.  These are the burdens of
the sons of Caath:  in the tabernacle of the covenant:
4:16. And over them shall be Eleazar the son of Aaron the priest, to
whose charge pertaineth the oil to dress the lamps, and the sweet
incense, and the sacrifice, that is always offered, and the oil of
unction, and whatsoever pertaineth to the service of the tabernacle,
and of all the vessels that are in the sanctuary.
4:17. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
4:18. Destroy not the people of Caath from the midst of the Levites:
4:19. But do this to them, that they may live, and not die, by touching
the holies of holies.  Aaron and his sons shall go in, and they shall
appoint every man his work, and shall divide the burdens that every man
is to carry.
4:20. Let not others by any curiosity see the things that are in the
sanctuary before they be wrapped up, otherwise they shall die.
4:21. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
4:22. Take the sum of the sons of Gerson also by their houses and
families and kindreds.
4:23. From thirty years old and upward, unto fifty years old.  Number
them all that go in and minister in the tabernacle of the covenant.
4:24. This is the office of the family of the Gersonites:
4:25. To carry the curtains of the tabernacle and the roof of the
covenant, the other covering, and the violet covering over all, and the
hanging that hangeth in the entry of the tabernacle of the covenant,
4:26. The curtains of the court, and the veil in the entry that is
before tabernacle.  All things that pertain to the altar, the cords and
the vessels of the ministry,
4:27. The sons of Gerson shall carry, by the commandment of Aaron and
his sons:  and each man shall know to what burden he must be assigned.
4:28. This is the service of the family of the Gersonites in the
tabernacle of the covenant, and they shall be under the hand of Ithamar
the son of Aaron the priest.
4:29. Thou shalt reckon up the sons of Merari also by the families and
houses of their fathers,
4:30. From thirty years old and upward, unto fifty years old, all that
go in to the office of their ministry, and to the service of the
covenant of the testimony.
4:31. These are their burdens:  They shall carry the boards of the
tabernacle and the bars thereof, the pillars and their sockets,
4:32. The pillars also of the court round about, with their sockets and
pins and cords.  They shall receive by account all the vessels and
furniture, and so shall carry them.
4:33. This is the office of the family of the Merarites, and their
ministry in the tabernacle of the covenant:  and they shall be under the
hand of Ithamar the son of Aaron the priest.
4:34. So Moses and Aaron and the princes of the synagogue reckoned up
the sons of Caath, by their kindreds and the houses of their fathers,
4:35. From thirty years old and upward, unto fifty years old, all that
go in to the ministry of the tabernacle of the covenant:
4:36. And they were found two thousand seven hundred and fifty.
4:37. This is the number of the people of Caath that go in to the
tabernacle of the covenant:  these did Moses and Aaron number according
to the word of the Lord by the hand of Moses.
4:38. The sons of Gerson also were numbered by the kindreds and houses
of their fathers,
4:39. From thirty years old and upward, unto fifty years old, all that
go in to minister in the tabernacle of the covenant:
4:40. And they were found two thousand six hundred and thirty.
4:41. This is the people of the Gersonites, whom Moses and Aaron
numbered according to the word of the Lord.
4:42. The sons of Merari also were numbered by the kindreds and houses
of their fathers,
4:43. From thirty years old and upward, unto fifty years old, all that
go in to fulfil the rites of the tabernacle of the covenant:
4:44. And they were found three thousand two hundred.
4:45. This is the number of the sons of Merari, whom Moses and Aaron
reckoned up according to the commandment of the Lord by the hand of
4:46. All that were reckoned up of the Levites, and whom Moses and
Aaron and the princes of Israel took by name, by the kindreds and
houses of their fathers,
4:47. From thirty years old and upward, until fifty years old, that go
into the ministry of the tabernacle, and to carry the burdens,
4:48. Were in all eight thousand five hundred and eighty.
4:49. Moses reckoned them up according to the word of the Lord, every
one according to their office and burdens, as the Lord had commanded
Numbers Chapter 5
The unclean are removed out of the camp:  confession of sins, and
satisfaction:  firstfruits and oblations belonging to the priests:  trial
of jealousy.
5:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
5:2. Command the children of Israel, that they cast out of the camp
every leper, and whosoever hath an issue of seed, or is defiled by the
5:3. Whether it be man or woman, cast ye them out of the camp, lest
they defile it when I shall dwell with you,
5:4. And the children of Israel did so, and they cast them forth
without the camp, as the Lord had spoken to Moses.
5:5. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
5:6. Say to the children of Israel:  When a man or woman shall have
committed any of all the sins that men are wont to commit, and by
negligence shall have transgressed the commandment of the Lord, and
5:7. They shall confess their sin, and restore the principal itself,
and the fifth part over and above, to him against whom they have
Shall confess. . .This confession and satisfaction, ordained in the Old
Law, was a figure of the sacrament of penance.
5:8. But if there be no one to receive it, they shall give it to the
Lord, and it shall be the priest's, besides the ram that is offered for
expiation, to be an atoning sacrifice.
5:9. All the firstfruits also, which the children of Israel offer,
belong to the priest:
5:10. And whatsoever is offered into the sanctuary by every one, and is
delivered into the hands of the priest, it shall be his.
5:11. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
5:12. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  The
man whose wife shall have gone astray, and contemning her husband,
5:13. Shall have slept with another man, and her husband cannot
discover it, but the adultery is secret, and cannot be proved by
witnesses, because she was not found in the adultery:
5:14. If the spirit of jealousy stir up the husband against his wife,
who either is defiled, or is charged with false suspicion,
The spirit of jealousy, etc. . .This ordinance was designed to clear the
innocent, and to prevent jealous husbands from doing mischief to their
wives:  as likewise to give all a horror of adultery, by punishing it in
so remarkable a manner.
5:15. He shall bring her to the priest, and shall offer an oblation for
her, the tenth part of a measure of barley meal:  he shall not pour oil
thereon, nor put frankincense upon it:  because it is a sacrifice of
jealousy, and an oblation searching out adultery.
5:16. The priest therefore shall offer it, and set it before the Lord.
5:17. And he shall take holy water in an earthen vessel, and he shall
cast a little earth of the pavement of the tabernacle into it.
5:18. And when the woman shall stand before the Lord, he shall uncover
her head, and shall put on her hands the sacrifice of remembrance, and
the oblation of jealousy:  and he himself shall hold the most bitter
waters, whereon he hath heaped curses with execration.
5:19. And he shall adjure her, and shall say:  If another man hath not
slept with thee, and if thou be not defiled by forsaking thy husband's
bed, these most bitter waters, on which I have heaped curses, shall not
5:20. But if thou hast gone aside from thy husband, and art defiled,
and hast lain with another man:
5:21. These curses shall light upon thee:  The Lord make thee a curse,
and an example for all among his people:  may he make thy thigh to rot,
and may thy belly swell and burst asunder.
5:22. Let the cursed waters enter into thy belly, and may thy womb
swell and thy thigh rot.  And the woman shall answer, Amen, amen.
5:23. And the priest shall write these curses in a book, and shall wash
them out with the most bitter waters, upon which he hath heaped the
5:24. And he shall give them her to drink.  And when she hath drunk them
5:25. The priest shall take from her hand the sacrifice of jealousy,
and shall elevate it before the Lord, and shall put it upon the altar:
yet so as first,
5:26. To take a handful of the sacrifice of that which is offered, and
burn it upon the altar:  and so give the most bitter waters to the woman
5:27. And when she hath drunk them, if she be defiled, and having
despised her husband be guilty of adultery, the malediction shall go
through her, and her belly swelling, her thigh shall rot:  and the woman
shall be a curse, and an example to all the people.
5:28. But if she be not defiled, she shall not be hurt, and shall bear
5:29. This is the law of jealousy.  If a woman hath gone aside from her
husband, and be defiled,
5:30. And the husband stirred up by the spirit of jealousy bring her
before the Lord, and the priest do to her according to all things that
are here written:
5:31. The husband shall be blameless, and she shall bear her iniquity.
Numbers Chapter 6
The law of the Nazarites:  the form of blessing the people.
6:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
6:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  When
a man, or woman, shall make a vow to be sanctified, and will consecrate
themselves to the Lord:
6:3. They shall abstain from wine, and from every thing that may make a
man drunk.  They shall not drink vinegar of wine, or of any other drink,
nor any thing that is pressed out of the grape:  nor shall they eat
grapes either fresh or dried.
6:4. All the days that they are consecrated to the Lord by vow:  they
shall eat nothing that cometh of the vineyard, from the raisin even to
6:5. All the time of his separation no razor shall pass over his head,
until the day be fulfilled of his consecration to the Lord.  He shall be
holy, and shall let the hair of his head grow.
6:6. All the time of his consecration he shall not go in to any dead,
6:7. Neither shall he make himself unclean, even for his father, or for
his mother, or for his brother, or for his sister, when they die,
because the consecration of his God is upon his head.
6:8. All the days of his separation he shall be holy to the Lord.
6:9. But if any man die suddenly before him:  the head of his
consecration shall be defiled:  and he shall shave it forthwith on the
same day of his purification, and again on the seventh day.
6:10. And on the eighth day he shall bring two turtles, or two young
pigeons to the priest in the entry of the covenant of the testimony.
6:11. And the priest shall offer one for sin, and the other for a
holocaust, and shall pray for him, for that he hath sinned by the dead:
and he shall sanctify his head that day:
6:12. And shall consecrate to the Lord the days of his separation,
offering a lamb of one year for sin:  yet so that the former days be
made void, because his sanctification was profaned.
6:13. This is the law of consecration.  When the days which he had
determined by vow shall be expired, he shall bring him to the door of
the tabernacle of the covenant,
6:14. And shall offer his oblation to the Lord:  one he lamb of a year
old without blemish for a holocaust, and one ewe lamb of a year old
without blemish for a sin offering, and one ram without blemish for a
victim of peace offering,
6:15. A basket also of unleavened bread, tempered with oil, and wafers
without leaven anointed with oil, and the libations of each:
6:16. And the priest shall present them before the Lord, and shall
offer both the sin offering and the holocaust.
6:17. But the ram he shall immolate for a sacrifice of peace offering
to the Lord, offering at the same time the basket of unleavened bread,
and the libations that are due by custom.
6:18. Then shall the hair of the consecration of the Nazarite, be
shaved off before the door of the tabernacle of the covenant:  and he
shall take his hair, and lay it upon the fire, which is under the
sacrifice of the peace offerings.
6:19. And shall take the boiled shoulder of the ram, and one unleavened
cake out of the basket, and one unleavened wafer, and he shall deliver
them into the hands of the Nazarite, after his head is shaven.
6:20. And receiving them again from him, he shall elevate them in the
sight of the Lord:  and they being sanctified shall belong to the
priest, as the breast, which was commanded to be separated, and the
shoulder.  After this the Nazarite may drink wine.
6:21. This is the law of the Nazarite, when he hath vowed his oblation
to the Lord in the time of his consecration, besides those things which
his hand shall find, according to that which he had vowed in his mind,
so shall he do for the fulfilling of his sanctification.
6:22. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
6:23. Say to Aaron and his sons:  Thus shall you bless the children of
Israel, and you shall say to them:
6:24. The Lord bless thee, and keep thee.
6:25. The Lord shew his face to thee, and have mercy on thee.
6:26. The Lord turn his countenance to thee, and give thee peace.
6:27. And they shall invoke my name upon the children of Israel, and I
will bless them.
Numbers Chapter 7
The offerings of the princes at the dedication of the tabernacle.  God
speaketh to Moses from the propitiatory.
7:1. And it came to pass in the day that Moses had finished the
tabernacle, and set it up, and had anointed and sanctified it with all
its vessels, the altar likewise and all the vessels thereof,
7:2. The princes of Israel and the heads of the families, in every
tribe, who were the rulers of them who had been numbered, offered
7:3. Their gifts before the Lord, six wagons covered, and twelve oxen.
Two princes offered one wagon, and each one an ox, and they offered
them before the tabernacle.
7:4. And the Lord said to Moses:
7:5. Receive them from them to serve in the ministry of the tabernacle,
and thou shalt deliver them to the Levites according to the order of
their ministry.
7:6. Moses therefore receiving the wagons and the oxen, delivered them
to the Levites.
7:7. Two wagons and four oxen he gave to the sons of Gerson, according
to their necessity.
7:8. The other four wagons, and eight oxen he gave to the sons of
Merari, according to their offices and service, under the hand of
Ithamar the son of Aaron the priest.
7:9. But to the sons of Caath he gave no wagons or oxen:  because they
serve in the sanctuary and carry their burdens upon their own
7:10. And the princes offered for the dedication of the altar on the
day when it was anointed, their oblation before the altar.
7:11. And the Lord said to Moses:  Let each of the princes one day after
another offer their gifts for the dedication of the altar.
7:12. The first day Nahasson the son of Aminadab of the tribe of Juda
offered his offering:
7:13. And his offering was a silver dish weighing one hundred and
thirty sicles, a silver bowl of seventy sicles according to the weight
of the sanctuary, both full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:14. A little mortar of ten sicles of gold full of incense:
7:15. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and lamb of a year old for a
7:16. And a buck goat for sin:
7:17. And for the sacrifice of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams,
five he goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of
Nahasson the son of Aminadab.
7:18. The second day Nathanael the son of Suar, prince of the tribe of
Issachar, made his offering,
7:19. A silver dish weighing one hundred and thirty sicles, a silver
bowl of seventy sicles, according to the weight of the sanctuary, both
full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:20. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:21. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:22. And a buck goat for sin:
7:23. And for the sacrifice of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams,
five buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of
Nathanael the son of Suar.
7:24. The third day the prince of the sons of Zabulon, Eliab the son of
7:25. Offered a silver dish weighing one hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles by the weight of the sanctuary, both full
of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:26. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:27. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:28. And a buck goat for sin:
7:29. And for the sacrifice of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams,
five buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This is the oblation of
Eliab the son of Helon.
7:30. The fourth day the prince of the sons of Ruben, Elisur the son of
7:31. Offered a silver dish weighing one hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles according to the weight of the sanctuary,
both full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:32. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:33. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old, for a
7:34. And a buck goat for sin:
7:35. And for victims of peace offerings two oxen, five rams, five buck
goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Elisur the
son of Sedeur.
7:36. The fifth day the prince of the sons of Simeon, Salamiel the son
of Surisaddai,
7:37. Offered a silver dish weighing one hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles after the weight of the sanctuary, both
full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:38. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:39. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:40. And a buck goat for sin:
7:41. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five
buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Salamiel
the son of Surisaddai.
7:42. The sixth day the prince of the sons of Gad, Eliasaph the son of
7:43. Offered a silver dish weighing a hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles by the weight of the sanctuary, both full
of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:44. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:45. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:46. And a buck goat for sin:
7:47. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five
buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Eliasaph
the son of Duel.
7:48. The seventh day the prince of the sons of Ephraim, Elisama the
son of Ammiud,
7:49. Offered a silver dish weighing a hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles according to the weight of the sanctuary,
both full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:50. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:51. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:52. And a buck goat for sin:
7:53. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five
buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Elisama
the son of Ammiud.
7:54. The eighth day the prince of the sons of Manasses, Gamaliel the
son of Phadassur,
7:55. Offered a silver dish, weighing a hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles, according to the weight of the
sanctuary, both full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:56. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:57. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:58. And a buck goat for sin:
7:59. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five
buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Gamaliel
the son of Phadassur.
7:60. The ninth day the prince of the sons of Benjamin, Abidan the son
7:61. Offered a silver dish weighing a hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles by the weight of the sanctuary, both full
of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:62. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:63. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:64. And a buck goat for sin:
7:65. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five
buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Abidan
the son of Gedeon.
7:66. The tenth day the princes of the sons of Dan, Ahiezer the son of
7:67. Offered a silver dish weighing a hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles, according to the weight of the
sanctuary, both full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:68. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:69. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:70. And a buck goat for sin:
7:71. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five
buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Ahiezer
the son of Ammisaddai.
7:72. The eleventh day the prince of the sons of Aser, Phegiel the son
7:73. Offered a silver dish weighing a hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles, according to the weight of the
sanctuary, both full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:74. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:75. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:76. And a buck goat for sin:
7:77. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five
buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Phegiel
the son of Ochran.
7:78. The twelfth day the prince of the sons of Nephtali, Ahira the son
7:79. Offered a silver dish weighing a hundred and thirty sicles, a
silver bowl of seventy sicles, according to the weight of the
sanctuary, both full of flour tempered with oil for a sacrifice:
7:80. A little mortar of gold weighing ten sicles full of incense:
7:81. An ox of the herd, and a ram, and a lamb of a year old for a
7:82. And a buck goat for sin:
7:83. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five
buck goats, five lambs of a year old.  This was the offering of Ahira
the son of Enan.
7:84. These were the offerings made by the princes of Israel in the
dedication of the altar, in the day wherein it was consecrated.  Twelve
dishes of silver:  twelve silver bowls:  twelve little mortars of gold:
7:85. Each dish weighing a hundred and thirty sicles of silver, and
each bowl seventy sicles:  that is, putting all the vessels of silver
together, two thousand four hundred sicles, by the weight of the
7:86. Twelve little mortars of gold full of incense, weighing ten
sicles apiece, by the weight of the sanctuary:  that is, in all a
hundred and twenty sicles of gold.
7:87. Twelve oxen out of the herd for a holocaust, twelve rams, twelve
lambs of a year old, and their libations:  twelve buck goats for sin.
7:88. And for sacrifices of peace offerings, oxen twenty-four, rams
sixty, buck goats sixty, lambs of a year old sixty.  These things were
offered in the dedication of the altar, when it was anointed.
7:89. And when Moses entered into the tabernacle of the covenant, to
consult the oracle, he heard the voice of one speaking to him from the
propitiatory, that is over the ark between the two cherubims, and from
this place he spoke to him.
Numbers Chapter 8
The seven lamps are placed on the golden candlestick, to shine towards
the loaves of proposition:  the ordination of the Levites:  and to what
age they shall serve in the tabernacle.
8:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
8:2. Speak to Aaron, and thou shalt say to him:  When thou shalt place
the seven lamps, let the candlestick be set up on the south side.  Give
orders therefore that the lamps look over against the north, towards
the table of the loaves of proposition, over against that part shall
they give light, towards which the candlestick looketh.
8:3. And Aaron did so, and he put the lamps upon the candlestick, as
the Lord had commanded Moses.
8:4. Now this was the work of the candlestick, it was of beaten gold,
both the shaft in the middle, and all that came out of both sides of
the branches:  according to the pattern which the Lord had shewn to
Moses, so he made the candlestick.
8:5. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
8:6. Take the Levites out of the midst of the children of Israel, and
thou shalt purify them,
8:7. According to this rite:  Let them be sprinkled with the water of
purification, and let them shave all the hairs of their flesh.  And when
they shall have washed their garments, and are cleansed,
Let them be sprinkled with the water of purification. . .This was the
holy water mixed with the ashes of the red cow, Num. 19., appointed for
purifying all that were unclean.  It was a figure of the blood of
Christ, applied to our souls by his holy sacraments.
8:8. They shall take an ox of the herd, and for the offering thereof
fine flour tempered with oil:  and thou shalt take another ox of the
herd for a sin offering:
8:9. And thou shalt bring the Levites before the tabernacle of the
covenant, calling together all the multitude of the children of Israel:
8:10. And when the Levites are before the Lord, the children of Israel
shall put their hands upon them:
8:11. And Aaron shall offer the Levites, as a gift in the sight of the
Lord from the children of Israel, that they may serve in his ministry.
8:12. The Levites also shall put their hands upon the heads of the
oxen, of which thou shalt sacrifice one for sin, and the other for a
holocaust to the Lord, to pray for them.
8:13. And thou shalt set the Levites in the sight of Aaron and of his,
and shalt consecrate them being offered to the Lord,
8:14. And shalt separate them from the midst of the children of Israel,
8:15. And afterwards they shall enter into the tabernacle of the
covenant, to serve me.  And thus shalt thou purify and consecrate them
for an oblation of the Lord:  for as a gift they were given me by the
children of Israel.
8:16. I have taken them instead of the firstborn that open every womb
8:17. For all the firstborn of the children of Israel, both of men and
of beasts, are mine.  From the day that I slew every firstborn in the
land of Egypt, have I sanctified them to myself:
8:18. And I have taken the Levites for all the firstborn of the
children of Israel:
8:19. And have delivered them for a gift to Aaron and his sons out of
the midst of the people, to serve me for Israel in the tabernacle of
the covenant, and to pray for them, lest there should be a plague among
the people, if they should presume to approach unto my sanctuary.
8:20. And Moses and Aaron and all the multitude of the children of
Israel did with the Levites all that the Lord had commanded Moses
8:21. And they were purified, and washed their garments.  And Aaron
lifted them up in the sight of the Lord, and prayed for them,
8:22. That being purified they might go into the tabernacle of the
covenant to do their services before Aaron and his sons.  As the Lord
had commanded Moses touching the Levites, so was it done.
8:23. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
8:24. This is the law of the Levites:  From twenty-five years old and
upwards, they shall go in to minister in the tabernacle of the
8:25. And when they shall have accomplished the fiftieth year of their
age, they shall cease to serve:
8:26. And they shall be the ministers of their brethren in the
tabernacle of the covenant, to keep the things that are committed to
their care, but not to do the works.  Thus shalt thou order the Levites
touching their charge.
Numbers Chapter 9
The precept of the pasch is renewed:  the unclean and travellers are to
observe it the second month:  the camp is guided by the pillar of the
9:1. The Lord spoke to Moses in the desert of Sinai, the second year
after they were come out of the land of Egypt, in the first month,
9:2. Let the children of Israel make the phase in its due time,
Make the phase. . .That is, keep the paschal solemnity, and eat the
paschal lamb.
9:3. The fourteenth day of this month in the evening, according to all
the ceremonies and justifications thereof.
9:4. And Moses commanded the children of Israel that they should make
9:5. And they made it in its proper time:  the fourteenth day of the
month at evening, in mount Sinai.  The children of Israel did according
to all things that the Lord had commanded Moses.
9:6. But behold some who were unclean by occasion of the soul of a man,
who could not make the phase on that day, coming to Moses and Aaron,
Behold some who were unclean by occasion of the soul of a man,
etc. . .That is, by having touched or come near a dead body, out of which
the soul was departed.
9:7. Said to them:  We are unclean by occasion of the soul of a man.  Why
are we kept back that we may not offer in its season the offering to
the Lord among the children of Israel?
9:8. And Moses answered them:  Stay that I may consult the Lord what he
will ordain concerning you.
9:9. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
9:10. Say to the children of Israel:  The man that shall be unclean by
occasion of one that is dead, or shall be in a journey afar off in your
nation, let him make the phase to the Lord.
9:11. In the second month, on the fourteenth day of the month in the
evening, they shall eat it with unleavened bread and wild lettuce:
9:12. They shall not leave any thing thereof until morning, nor break a
bone thereof, they shall observe all the ceremonies of the phase.
9:13. But if any man is clean, and was not on a journey, and did not
make the phase, that soul shall be cut off from among his people,
because he offered not sacrifice to the Lord in due season:  he shall
bear his sin.
9:14. The sojourner also and the stranger if they be among you, shall
make the phase to the Lord according to the ceremonies and
justifications thereof.  The same ordinances shall be with you both for
the stranger, and for him that was born in the land.
9:15. Now on the day that the tabernacle was reared up, a cloud covered
it.  But from the evening there was over the tabernacle, as it were, the
appearance of fire until the morning.
9:16. So it was always:  by day the cloud covered it, and by night as it
were the appearance of fire.
9:17. And when the cloud that covered the tabernacle was taken up, then
the children of Israel marched forward:  and in the place where the
cloud stood still, there they camped.
9:18. At the commandment of the Lord they marched, and at his
commandment they pitched the tabernacle.  All the days that the cloud
abode over the tabernacle, they remained in the same place:
9:19. And if it was so that it continued over it a long time, the
children of Israel kept the watches of the Lord, and marched not,
9:20. For as many days soever as the cloud stayed over the tabernacle.
At the commandment of the Lord they pitched their tents, and at his
commandment they took them down.
9:21. If the cloud tarried from evening until morning, and immediately
at break of day left the tabernacle, they marched forward:  and if it
departed after a day and a night, they took down their tents.
9:22. But if it remained over the tabernacle for two days or a month or
a longer time, the children of Israel remained in the same place, and
marched not:  but immediately as soon as it departed, they removed the
9:23. By the word of the Lord they pitched their tents, and by his word
they marched:  and kept the watches of the Lord according to his
commandment by the hand of Moses.
Numbers Chapter 10
The silver trumpets and their use.  They march from Sinai.
10:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
10:2. Make thee two trumpets of beaten silver, wherewith thou mayest
call together the multitude when the camp is to be removed.
10:3. And when thou shalt sound the trumpets, all the multitude shall
gather unto thee to the door of the tabernacle of the covenant.
10:4. If thou sound but once, the princes and the heads of the
multitude of Israel shall come to thee.
10:5. But if the sound of the trumpets be longer, and with
interruptions, they that are on the east side, shall first go forward.
10:6. And at the second sounding and like noise of the trumpet, they
who lie on the south side shall take up their tents.  And after this
manner shall the rest do, when the trumpets shall sound for a march.
10:7. But when the people is to be gathered together, the sound of the
trumpets shall be plain, and they shall not make a broken sound.
10:8. And the sons of Aaron the priest shall sound the trumpets:  and
this shall be an ordinance for ever in your generations.
10:9. If you go forth to war out of your land against the enemies that
fight against you, you shall sound aloud with the trumpets, and there
shall be a remembrance of you before the Lord your God, that you may be
delivered out of the hands of your enemies.
10:10. If at any time you shall have a banquet, and on your festival
days, and on the first days of your months, you shall sound the
trumpets over the holocausts, and the sacrifices of peace offerings,
that they may be to you for a remembrance of your God.  I am the Lord
10:11. The second year, in the second month, the twentieth day of the
month, the cloud was taken up from the tabernacle of the covenant.
10:12. And the children of Israel marched by their troops from the
desert of Sinai, and the cloud rested in the wilderness of Pharan.
10:13. And the first went forward according to the commandment of the
Lord by the hand of Moses.
10:14. The sons of Juda by their troops:  whose prince was Nahasson the
son of Aminadab.
10:15. In the tribe of the sons of Issachar, the prince was Nathanael
the son of Suar.
10:16. In the tribe of Zabulon, the prince was Eliab the son of Helon.
10:17. And the tabernacle was taken down, and the sons of Gerson and
Merari set forward, bearing it.
10:18. And the sons of Ruben also marched, by their troops and ranks,
whose prince was Helisur the son of Sedeur.
10:19. And in the tribe of Simeon, the prince was Salamiel the son of
10:20. And in the tribe of Gad, the prince was Eliasaph the son of
10:21. Then the Caathites also marched carrying the sanctuary.  So long
was the tabernacle carried, till they came to the place of setting it
10:22. The sons of Ephraim also moved their camp by their troops, in
whose army the prince was Elisama the son of Ammiud.
10:23. And in the tribe of the sons of Manasses, the prince was
Gamaliel the son of Phadassur.
10:24. And in the tribe of Benjamin, the prince was Abidan the son of
10:25. The last of all the camp marched the sons of Dan by their
troops, in whose army the prince was Ahiezer the son of Ammisaddai.
10:26. And in the tribe of the sons of Aser, the prince was Phegiel the
son of Ochran.
10:27. And in the tribe of the sons of Nephtali, the prince was Ahira
the son of Enan.
10:28. This was the order of the camps, and marches of the children of
Israel by their troops, when they set forward.
10:29. And Moses said to Hobab the son of Raguel the Madianite, his
kinsman:  We are going towards the place which the Lord will give us:
come with us, that we may do thee good:  for the Lord hath promised good
things to Israel.
10:30. But he answered him:  I will not go with thee, but I will return
to my country, wherein I was born.
10:31. And he said:  Do not leave us:  for thou knowest in what places we
should encamp in the wilderness, and thou shalt be our guide.
10:32. And if thou comest with us, we will give thee what is the best
of the riches which the Lord shall deliver to us.
10:33. So they marched from the mount of the Lord three days' journey,
and the ark of the covenant of the Lord went before them, for three
days providing a place for the camp.
10:34. The cloud also of the Lord was over them by day when they
10:35. And when the ark was lifted up, Moses said:  Arise, O Lord, and
let thy enemies be scattered, and let them that hate thee, flee from
before thy face.
10:36. And when it was set down, he said:  Return, O Lord, to the
multitude of the host of Israel.
Numbers Chapter 11
The people murmur and are punished with fire.  God appointeth seventy
ancients for assistants to Moses.  They prophesy.  The people have their
fill of flesh, but forthwith many die of the plague.
11:1. In the mean time there arose a murmuring of the people against
the Lord, as it were repining at their fatigue.  And when the Lord heard
it he was angry.  And the fire of the Lord being kindled against them,
devoured them that were at the uttermost part of the camp.
11:2. And when the people cried to Moses, Moses prayed to the Lord, and
the fire was swallowed up.
11:3. And he called the name of that place, The burning:  for that the
fire of the Lord had been kindled against them.
The burning. . .Hebrew, Taberah.
11:4. For a mixt multitude of people, that came up with them, burned
with desire, sitting and weeping, the children of Israel also being
joined with them, and said:  Who shall give us flesh to eat?
A mixt multitude. . .These were people that came with them out of Egypt,
who were not of the race of Israel; who, by their murmuring, drew also
the children of Israel to murmur:  this should teach us the danger of
associating ourselves with the children of Egypt, that is, with the
lovers and admirers of this wicked world.
11:5. We remember the fish that we ate in Egypt free cost:  the
cucumbers come into our mind, and the melons, and the leeks, and the
onions, and the garlic.
11:6. Our soul is dry, our eyes behold nothing else but manna.
11:7. Now the manna was like coriander seed, of the colour of bdellium.
Bdellium. . .Bdellium, according to Pliny, 1.21, c. 9. was of the colour
of a man's nail, white and bright.
11:8. And the people went about, and gathering it, ground it in a mill,
or beat it in a mortar, and boiled it in a pot, and made cakes thereof
of the taste of bread tempered with oil.
11:9. And when the dew fell in the night upon the camp, the manna also
fell with it.
11:10. Now Moses heard the people weeping by their families, every one
at the door of his tent.  And the wrath of the Lord was exceedingly
enkindled:  to Moses also the thing seemed insupportable.
11:11. And he said to the Lord:  Why hast thou afflicted thy servant?
Wherefore do I not find favour before thee?  And why hast thou laid the
weight of all this people upon me?
11:12. Have I conceived all this multitude, or begotten them, that thou
shouldst say to me:  Carry them in thy bosom as the nurse is wont to
carry the little infant, and bear them into the land, for which thou
hast sworn to their fathers?
11:13. Whence should I have flesh to give to so great a multitude?  They
weep against me, saying:  Give us flesh that we may eat.
11:14. I am not able alone to bear all this people, because it is too
heavy for me.
11:15. But if it seem unto thee otherwise, I beseech thee to kill me,
and let me find grace in thy eyes, that I be not afflicted with so
great evils.
11:16. And the Lord said to Moses:  Gather unto me seventy men of the
ancients of Israel, whom thou knowest to be ancients and masters of the
people:  and thou shalt bring them to the door of the tabernacle of the
covenant, and shalt make them stand there with thee,
Seventy men. . .This was the first institution of the council or senate,
called the Sanhedrin, consisting of seventy or seventy-two senators or
counsellors.
11:17. That I may come down and speak with thee:  and I will take of thy
spirit, and will give to them, that they may bear with thee the burden
of the people, and thou mayest not be burthened alone.
11:18. And thou shalt say to the people:  Be ye sanctified:  to morrow
you shall eat flesh:  for I have heard you say:  Who will give us flesh
to eat?  It was well with us in Egypt.  That the Lord may give you flesh,
and you may eat:
11:19. Not for one day, nor two, nor five, nor ten, no nor for twenty.
11:20. But even for a month of days, till it come out at your nostrils,
and become loathsome to you, because you have cast off the Lord, who is
in the midst of you, and have wept before him, saying:  Why came we out
11:21. And Moses said:  There are six hundred thousand footmen of this
people, and sayest thou:  I will give them flesh to eat a whole month?
11:22. Shall then a multitude of sheep and oxen be killed, that it may
suffice for their food?  or shall the fishes of the sea be gathered
together to fill them?
11:23. And the Lord answered him:  Is the hand of the Lord unable?  Thou
shalt presently see whether my word shall come to pass or no.
11:24. Moses therefore came, and told the people the words of the Lord,
and assembled seventy men of the ancients of Israel, and made them to
stand about the tabernacle.
11:25. And the Lord came down in a cloud, and spoke to him, taking away
of the spirit that was in Moses, and giving to the seventy men.  And
when the spirit had rested on them they prophesied, nor did they cease
11:26. Now there remained in the camp two of the men, of whom one was
called Eldad, and the other Medad, upon whom the spirit rested; for
they also had been enrolled, but were not gone forth to the tabernacle.
11:27. And when they prophesied in the camp, there ran a young man, and
told Moses, saying:  Eldad and Medad prophesy in the camp.
11:28. Forthwith Josue the son of Nun, the minister of Moses, and
chosen out of many, said:  My lord Moses forbid them.
11:29. But he said:  Why hast thou emulation for me?  O that all the
people might prophesy, and that the Lord would give them his spirit!
11:30. And Moses returned, with the ancients of Israel, into the camp.
11:31. And a wind going out from the Lord, taking quails up beyond the
sea brought them, and cast them into the camp for the space of one
day's journey, on every side of the camp round about, and they flew in
the air two cubits high above the ground.
11:32. The people therefore rising up all that day, and night, and the
next day, gathered together of quails, he that did least, ten cores:
and they dried them round about the camp.
11:33. As yet the flesh was between their teeth, neither had that kind
of meat failed:  when behold the wrath of the Lord being provoked
against the people, struck them with an exceeding great plague.
11:34. And that place was called, The graves of lust:  for there they
buried the people that had lusted.  And departing from the graves of
lust, they came unto Haseroth, and abode there.
The graves of lust. . .Or, the sepulchres of concupiscence:  so called
from their irregular desire of flesh.  In Hebrew, Kibroth.  Hattaavah.
Numbers Chapter 12
Mary and Aaron murmur against Moses, whom God praiseth above other
prophets.  Mary being struck with leprosy, Aaron confesseth his fault.
Moses prayeth for her, and after seven days' separation from the camp,
she is restored.
12:1. And Mary and Aaron spoke against Moses, because of his wife the
Ethiopian. . .Sephora the wife of Moses was of Madian, which bordered
upon the land of Chus or Ethiopia:  where note, that the Ethiopia here
spoken of is not that of Africa but that of Arabia.
12:2. And they said:  Hath the Lord spoken by Moses only?  Hath he not
also spoken to us in like manner?  And when the Lord heard this,
12:3. (For Moses was a man exceeding meek above all men that dwelt upon
Exceeding meek. . .Moses being the meekest of men, would not contend for
himself; therefore, God inspired him to write here his own defence:  and
the Holy Spirit, whose dictate he wrote, obliged him to declare the
truth, though it was so much to his own praise.
12:4. Immediately he spoke to him, and to Aaron and Mary:  Come out you
three only to the tabernacle of the covenant.  And when they were come
12:5. The Lord came down in a pillar of the cloud, and stood in the
entry of the tabernacle calling to Aaron and Mary.  And when they were
12:6. He said to them:  Hear my words:  if there be among you a prophet
of the Lord, I will appear to him in a vision, or I will speak to him
12:7. But it is not so with my servant Moses who is most faithful in
all my house:
12:8. For I speak to him mouth to mouth:  and plainly, and not by
riddles and figures doth he see the Lord.  Why then were you not afraid
to speak ill of my servant Moses?
12:9. And being angry with them he went away:
12:10. The cloud also that was over the tabernacle departed:  and behold
Mary appeared white as snow with a leprosy.  And when Aaron had looked
on her, and saw her all covered with leprosy,
12:11. He said to Moses:  I beseech thee, my lord, lay not upon us this
sin, which we have foolishly committed:
12:12. Let her not be as one dead, and as an abortive that is cast
forth from the mother's womb.  Lo, now one half of her flesh is consumed
with the leprosy.
12:13. And Moses cried to the Lord, saying O God, I beseech thee heal
12:14. And the Lord answered him:  If her father had spitten upon her
face, ought she not to have been ashamed for seven days at least?  Let
her be separated seven days without the camp, and afterwards she shall
be called again.
12:15. Mary therefore was put out of the camp seven days:  and the
people moved not from that place until Mary was called again.
Numbers Chapter 13
The twelve spies are sent to view the land.  The relation they make of
13:1. And the people marched from Haseroth, and pitched their tents in
the desert of Pharan.
13:2. And there the Lord spoke to Moses, saying.
13:3. Send men to view the land of Chanaan, which I will give to the
children of Israel, one of every tribe, of the rulers.
13:4. Moses did what the Lord had commanded, sending from the desert of
Pharan, principal men, whose names are these:
13:5. Of the tribe of Ruben, Sammua the son of Zechur.
13:6. Of the tribe of Simeon, Saphat the son of Huri.
13:7. Of the tribe of Juda, Caleb the son of Jephone.
13:8. Of the tribe of Issachar, Igal the son of Joseph.
13:9. Of the tribe of Ephraim, Osee the son of Nun.
13:10. Of the tribe of Benjamin, Phalti the son of Raphu.
13:11. Of the tribe of Zabulon, Geddiel the son of Sodi.
13:12. Of the tribe of Joseph, of the sceptre of Manasses, Gaddi the
son of Susi.
13:13. Of the tribe of Dan, Ammiel the son of Gemalli.
13:14. Of the tribe of Aser, Sthur the son of Michael.
13:15. Of the tribe of Nephtali, Nahabi the son of Vapsi.
13:16. Of the tribe of Gad, Guel the son of Machi.
13:17. These are the names of the men, whom Moses sent to view the
land:  and he called Osee the son of Nun, Josue.
13:18. And Moses sent them to view the land of Chanaan, and said to
them:  Go you up by the south side.  And when you shall come to the
13:19. View the land, of what sort it is, and the people that are the
inhabitants thereof, whether they be strong or weak:  few in number or
13:20. The land itself, whether it be good or bad:  what manner of
cities, walled or without walls:
13:21. The ground, fat or barren, woody or without trees.  Be of good
courage, and bring us of the fruits of the land.  Now it was the time
when the firstripe grapes are fit to be eaten.
13:22. And when they were gone up, they viewed the land from the desert
of Sin, unto Rohob as you enter into Emath.
13:23. And they went up at the south side, and came to Hebron, where
were Achiman and Sisai and Tholmai the sons of Enac.  For Hebron was
built seven years before Tanis the city of Egypt.
13:24. And forward as far as the torrent of the cluster of grapes, they
cut off a branch with its cluster of grapes, which two men carried upon
a lever.  They took also of the pomegranates and of the figs of that
13:25. Which was called Nehelescol, that is to say, the torrent of the
cluster of grapes, because from thence the children of Israel had
carried a cluster of grapes.
13:26. And they that went to spy out the land returned after forty
days, having gone round all the country,
13:27. And came to Moses and Aaron and to all the assembly of the
children of Israel to the desert of Pharan, which is in Cades.  And
speaking to them and to all the multitude, they shewed them the fruits
of the land:
13:28. And they related and said:  We came into the land to which thou
sentest us, which in very deed floweth with milk and honey as may be
known by these fruits:
13:29. But it hath very strong inhabitants, and the cities are great
and walled.  We saw there the race of Enac.
13:30. Amalec dwelleth in the south, the Hethite and the Jebusite and
the Amorrhite in the mountains:  but the Chanaanite abideth by the sea
and near the streams of the Jordan.
13:31. In the mean time Caleb, to still the murmuring of the people
that rose against Moses, said:  Let us go up and possess the land, for
we shall be able to conquer it.
13:32. But the others, that had been with him, said:  No, we are not
able to go up to this people, because they are stronger than we.
13:33. And they spoke ill of the land, which they had viewed, before
the children of Israel, saying:  The land which we have viewed,
devoureth its inhabitants:  the people, that we beheld are of a tall
Spoke ill, etc. . .These men, who by their misrepresentations of the
land of promise, discouraged the Israelites from attempting the
conquest of it, were a figure of worldlings, who, by decrying or
misrepresenting true devotion, discourage Christians from seeking in
earnest and acquiring so great a good, and thereby securing to
themselves a happy eternity.
13:34. There we saw certain monsters of the sons of Enac, of the giant
kind:  in comparison of whom, we seemed like locusts.
Numbers Chapter 14
The people murmur.  God threateneth to destroy them.  He is appeased by
Moses, yet so as to exclude the murmurers from entering the promised
land.  The authors of the sedition are struck dead.  The rest going to
fight against the will of God are beaten.
14:1. Therefore the whole multitude crying wept that night.
14:2. And all the children of Israel murmured against Moses and Aaron,
14:3. Would God that we had died in Egypt:  and would God we may die in
this vast wilderness, and that the Lord may not bring us into this
land, lest we fall by the sword, and our wives and children be led away
captives.  Is it not better to return into Egypt?
14:4. And they said one to another:  Let us appoint a captain, and let
us return into Egypt.
14:5. And when Moses and Aaron heard this, they fell down flat upon the
ground before the multitude of the children of Israel.
14:6. But Josue the son of Nun, and Caleb the son of Jephone, who
themselves also had viewed the land, rent their garments,
14:7. And said to all the multitude of the children of Israel:  The land
which we have gone round is very good:
14:8. If the Lord be favourable, he will bring us into it, and give us
a land flowing with milk and honey.
14:9. Be not rebellious against the Lord:  and fear ye not the people of
this land, for we are able to eat them up as bread.  All aid is gone
from them:  the Lord is with us, fear ye not.
14:10. And when all the multitude cried out, and would have stoned
them, the glory of the Lord appeared over the tabernacle of the
covenant to all the children of Israel.
14:11. And the Lord said to Moses:  How long will this people detract
me?  how long will they not believe me for all the signs that I have
wrought before them?
14:12. I will strike them therefore with pestilence, and will consume
them:  but thee I will make a ruler over a great nation, and a mightier
than this is.
14:13. And Moses said to the Lord:  That the Egyptians, from the midst
of whom thou hast brought forth this people,
14:14. And the inhabitants of this land, (who have heard that thou, O
Lord, art among this people, and art seen face to face, and thy cloud
protecteth them, and thou goest before them in a pillar of a cloud by
day, and in a pillar of fire by night,)
14:15. May hear that thou hast killed so great a multitude as it were
one man and may say:
14:16. He could not bring the people into the land for which he had
sworn, therefore did he kill them in the wilderness.
14:17. Let then the strength of the Lord be magnified, as thou hast
sworn, saying:
14:18. The Lord is patient and full of mercy, by taking away iniquity
and wickedness, and leaving no man clear, who visitest the sins of the
fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.
Clear. . .i.  e., who deserves punishment.
14:19. Forgive, I beseech thee, the sins of this people, according to
the greatness of thy mercy, as thou hast been merciful to them from
their going out of Egypt unto this place.
14:20. And the Lord said:  I have forgiven according to thy word.
14:21. As I live:  and the whole earth shall be filled with the glory of
14:22. But yet all the men that have seen my majesty, and the signs
that I have done in Egypt, and in the wilderness, and have tempted me
now ten times, and have not obeyed my voice,
14:23. Shall not see the land for which I swore to their fathers,
neither shall any one of them that hath detracted me behold it.
14:24. My servant Caleb, who being full of another spirit hath followed
me, I will bring into this land which he hath gone round:  and his seed
shall possess it.
14:25. For the Amalecite and the Chanaanite dwell in the valleys.  To
morrow remove the camp, and return into the wilderness by the way of
the Red Sea.
14:26. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
14:27. How long doth this wicked multitude murmur against me?  I have
heard the murmurings of the children of Israel.
14:28. Say therefore to them:  As I live, saith the Lord:  According as
you have spoken in my hearing, so will I do to you.
14:29. In the wilderness shall your carcasses lie.  All you that were
numbered from twenty years old and upward, and have murmured against
14:30. Shall not enter into the land, over which I lifted up my hand to
make you dwell therein, except Caleb the son of Jephone, and Josue the
14:31. But your children, of whom you said, that they should be a prey
to the enemies, will I bring in:  that they may see the land which you
have despised.
14:32. Your carcasses shall lie in the wilderness.
14:33. Your children shall wander in the desert forty years, and shall
bear your fornication, until the carcasses of their fathers be consumed
in the desert,
Shall bear your fornication. . .That is, shall bear the punishment of
your disloyalty to God, which in the scripture language is here called
a fornication, in a spiritual sense.
14:34. According to the number of the forty days, wherein you viewed
the land:  a year shall be counted for a day.  And forty years you shall
receive your iniquities, and shall know my revenge:
14:35. For as I have spoken, so will I do to all this wicked multitude,
that hath risen up together against me:  in this wilderness shall it
faint away and die.
14:36. Therefore all the men, whom Moses had sent to view the land, and
who at their return had made the whole multitude to murmur against him,
speaking ill of the land that it was naught,
14:37. Died and were struck in the sight of the Lord.
14:38. But Josue the son of Nun, and Caleb had gone to view the land.
14:39. And Moses spoke all these words to all the children of Israel,
and the people mourned exceedingly.
14:40. And behold rising up very early in the morning, they went up to
the top of the mountain, and said:  We are ready to go up to the place,
of which the Lord hath spoken:  for we have sinned.
14:41. And Moses said to them:  Why transgress you the word of the Lord,
which shall not succeed prosperously with you?
14:42. Go not up, for the Lord is not with you:  lest you fall before
your enemies.
14:43. The Amalecite and the Chanaanite are before you, and by their
sword you shall fall, because you would not consent to the Lord,
neither will the Lord be with you.
14:44. But they being blinded went up to the top of the mountain.  But
the ark of the testament of the Lord and Moses departed not from the
14:45. And the Amalecite came down, and the Chanaanite that dwelt in
the mountain:  and smiting and slaying them pursued them as far as
Numbers Chapter 15
Certain laws concerning sacrifices.  Sabbath breaking is punished with
death.  The law of fringes on their garments.
15:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
15:2. Speak to the children of Israel and thou shalt say to them:  When
you shall be come unto the land of your habitation, which I will give
15:3. And shall make an offering to the Lord, for a holocaust, or a
victim, paying your vows, or voluntarily offering gifts, or in your
solemnities burning a sweet savour unto the Lord, of oxen or of sheep:
15:4. Whosoever immolateth the victim, shall offer a sacrifice of fine
flour, the tenth part of an ephi, tempered with the fourth part of a
15:5. And he shall give the same measure of wine to pour out in
libations for the holocaust or for the victim.  For every lamb,
15:6. And for every ram there shall be a sacrifice of flour of two
tenths, which shall be tempered with the third part of a hin of oil:
15:7. And he shall offer the third part the same measure of wine for
the libation, for a sweet savour to the Lord.
15:8. But when thou offerest a holocaust or sacrifice of oxen, to
fulfil thy vow or for victims of peace offerings,
15:9. Thou shalt give for every ox three tenths of flour tempered with
half a hin of oil,
15:10. And wine for libations of the same measure, for an offering of
most sweet savour to the Lord.
15:11. Thus shalt thou do
15:12. For every ox and ram and lamb and kid.
15:13. Both they that are born in the land, and the strangers
15:14. Shall offer sacrifices after the same rite.
15:15. There shall be all one law and judgment both for you and for
them who are strangers in the land.
15:16. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
15:17. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:
15:18. When you are come into the land which I will give you,
15:19. And shall eat of the bread of that country, you shall separate
firstfruits to the Lord,
15:20. Of the things you eat.  As you separate firstfruits of your
15:21. So also shall you give firstfruits of your dough to the Lord.
15:22. And if through ignorance you omit any of these things, which the
Lord hath spoken to Moses,
15:23. And by him hath commanded you from the day that he began to
command and thenceforward,
15:24. And the multitude have forgotten to do it:  they shall offer a
calf out of the herd, a holocaust for a most sweet savour to the Lord,
and the sacrifice and libations thereof, as the ceremonies require, and
a buck goat for sin:
15:25. And the priest shall pray for all the multitude of the children
of Israel:  and it shall be forgiven them, because they sinned
ignorantly, offering notwithstanding a burnt offering to the Lord for
themselves and for their sin and their Ignorance:
15:26. And it shall be forgiven all the people of the children of
Israel:  and the strangers that sojourn among them:  because it is the
fault of all the people through ignorance.
15:27. But if one soul shall sin ignorantly, he shall offer a she goat
of a year old for his sin.
15:28. And the priest shall pray for him, because he sinned ignorantly
before the Lord:  and he shall obtain his pardon, and it shall be
forgiven him.
15:29. The same law shall be for all that sin by ignorance, whether
they be natives or strangers.
15:30. But the soul that committeth any thing through pride, whether he
be born in the land or a stranger (because he hath been rebellious
against the Lord) shall be cut off from among his people:
15:31. For he hath contemned the word of the Lord, and made void his
precept:  therefore shall he be destroyed, and shall bear his iniquity.
15:32. And it came to pass, when the children of Israel were in the
wilderness, and had found a man gathering sticks on the sabbath day,
15:33. That they brought him to Moses and Aaron and the whole
15:34. And they put him into prison, not knowing what they should do
15:35. And the Lord said to Moses:  Let that man die, let all the
multitude stone him without the camp.
15:36. And when they had brought him out, they stoned him, and he died
as the Lord had commanded.
15:37. The Lord also said to Moses:
15:38. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt tell them to
make to themselves fringes in the corners of their garments, putting in
them ribands of blue:
Fringes. . .The Pharisees enlarged these fringes through hypocrisy,
Matt. 23.5, to appear more zealous than other men for the law of God.
15:39. That when they shall see them, they may remember all the
commandments of the Lord, and not follow their own thoughts and eyes
going astray after divers things,
15:40. But rather being mindful of the precepts of the Lord, may do
them and be holy to their God.
15:41. I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of
Egypt, that I might be your God.
Numbers Chapter 16
The schism of Core and his adherents:  their punishment.
16:1. And behold Core the son of Isaar, the son of Caath, the son of
Levi, and Dathan and Abiron the sons of Eliab, and Hon the son of
Pheleth of the children of Ruben,
16:2. Rose up against Moses, and with them two hundred and fifty others
of the children of Israel, leading men of the synagogue, and who in the
time of assembly were called by name.
Rose up. . .The crime of these men, which was punished in so remarkable
a manner, was that of schism, and of rebellion against the authority
established by God in the church; and their pretending to the
priesthood without being lawfully called and sent:  the same is the case
of all modern sectaries.
16:3. And when they had stood up against Moses and Aaron, they said:
Let it be enough for you, that all the multitude consisteth of holy
ones, and the Lord is among them:  Why lift you up yourselves above the
people of the Lord?
16:4. When Moses heard this, he fell flat on his face:
16:5. And speaking to Core and all the multitude, he said:  In the
morning the Lord will make known who belong to him, and the holy he
will join to himself:  and whom he shall choose, they shall approach to
16:6. Do this therefore:  Take every man of you your censers, thou Core,
and all thy company.
16:7. And putting fire in them to morrow, put incense upon it before
the Lord:  and whomsoever he shall choose, the same shall be holy:  you
take too much upon you, ye sons of Levi.
16:8. And he said again to Core:  Hear ye sons of Levi.
16:9. Is it a small thing unto you, that the God of Israel hath spared
you from all the people, and joined you to himself, that you should
serve him in the service of the tabernacle, and should stand before the
congregation of the people, and should minister to him?
16:10. Did he therefore make thee and all thy brethren the sons of Levi
to approach unto him, that you should challenge to yourselves the
priesthood also,
16:11. And that all thy company should stand against the Lord?  for what
is Aaron that you murmur against him?
16:12. Then Moses sent to call Dathan and Abiron the sons of Eliab.  But
they answered:  We will not come.
16:13. Is it a small matter to thee, that thou hast brought us out of a
land that flowed with milk and honey, to kill us in the desert, except
thou rule also like a lord over us?
16:14. Thou hast brought us indeed into a land that floweth with rivers
of milk and honey, and hast given us possessions of fields and
vineyards; wilt thou also pull out our eyes?  We will not come.
16:15. Moses therefore being very angry, said to the Lord:  Respect not
their sacrifices:  thou knowest that I have not taken of them so much as
a young ass at any time, nor have injured any of them.
Very angry. . .This anger was a zeal against sin; and an indignation at
the affront offered to God; like that which the same holy prophet
conceived upon the sight of the golden calf, Ex. 32.19.
16:16. And he said to Core:  Do thou and thy congregation stand apart
before the Lord to morrow, and Aaron apart.
16:17. Take every one of you censers, and put incense upon them,
offering to the Lord two hundred and fifty censers:  let Aaron also hold
16:18. When they had done this, Moses and Aaron standing,
16:19. And had drawn up all the multitude against them to the door of
the tabernacle, the glory of the Lord appeared to them all.
16:20. And the Lord speaking to Moses and Aaron, said:
16:21. Separate yourselves from among this congregation, that I may
presently destroy them.
16:22. They fell flat on their face, and said:  O most mighty, the God
of the spirits of all flesh, for one man's sin shall thy wrath rage
against all?
16:23. And the Lord said to Moses:
16:24. Command the whole people to separate themselves from the tents
of Core and Dathan and Abiron.
16:25. And Moses arose, and went to Dathan and Abiron:  and the ancients
of Israel following him,
16:26. He said to the multitude:  Depart from the tents of these wicked
men, and touch nothing of theirs, lest you be involved in their sins.
16:27. And when they were departed from their tents round about, Dathan
and Abiron coming out stood in the entry of their pavilions with their
wives and children, and all the people.
16:28. And Moses said:  By this you shall know that the Lord hath sent
me to do all things that you see, and that I have not forged them of my
16:29. If these men die the common death of men, and if they be visited
with a plague, wherewith others also are wont to be visited, the Lord
did not send me.
16:30. But if the Lord do a new thing, and the earth opening her mouth
swallow them down, and all things that belong to them, and they go down
alive into hell, you shall know that they have blasphemed the Lord.
16:31. And immediately as he had made an end of speaking, the earth
broke asunder under their feet:
16:32. And opening her mouth, devoured them with their tents and all
their substance.
16:33. And they went down alive into hell, the ground closing upon
them, and they perished from among the people.
16:34. But all Israel, that was standing round about, fled at the cry
of them that were perishing:  saying:  Lest perhaps the earth swallow us
16:35. And a fire coming out from the Lord, destroyed the two hundred
and fifty men that offered the incense.
16:36. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
16:37. Command Eleazar the son of Aaron the priest to take up the
censers that lie in the burning, and to scatter the fire of one side
and the other:  because they are sanctified
16:38. In the deaths of the sinners:  and let him beat them into plates,
and fasten them to the altar, because incense hath been offered in them
to the Lord, and they are sanctified, that the children of Israel may
see them for a sign and a memorial.
16:39. Then Eleazar the priest took the brazen censers, wherein they
had offered, whom the burning fire had devoured, and beat them into
plates, fastening them to the altar:
16:40. That the children of Israel might have for the time to come
wherewith they should be admonished, that no stranger or any one that
is not of the seed of Aaron should come near to offer incense to the
Lord, lest he should suffer as Core suffered, and all his congregation,
according as the Lord spoke to Moses.
16:41. The following day all the multitude of the children of Israel
murmured against Moses and Aaron, saying:  You have killed the people of
16:42. And when there arose a sedition, and the tumult increased,
16:43. Moses and Aaron fled to the tabernacle of the covenant.  And when
they were gone into it, the cloud covered it, and the glory of the Lord
16:44. And the Lord said to Moses:
16:45. Get you out from the midst of this multitude, this moment will I
destroy them.  And as they were lying on the ground,
16:46. Moses said to Aaron:  Take the censer, and putting fire in it
from the altar, put incense upon it, and go quickly to the people to
pray for them:  for already wrath is gone out from the Lord, and the
plague rageth.
16:47. When Aaron had done this, and had run to the midst of the
multitude which the burning fire was now destroying, he offered the
16:48. And standing between the dead and the living, he prayed for the
people, and the plague ceased.
16:49. And the number of them that were slain was fourteen thousand and
seven hundred men, besides them that had perished in the sedition of
16:50. And Aaron returned to Moses to the door of the tabernacle of the
covenant after the destruction was over.
Numbers Chapter 17
The priesthood is confirmed to Aaron by the miracle of the blooming of
his rod, which is kept for a monument in the tabernacle.
17:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
17:2. Speak to the children of Israel, and take of every one of them a
rod by their kindreds, of all the princes of the tribes, twelve rods,
and write the name of every man upon his rod.
17:3. And the name of Aaron shall be for the tribe of Levi, and one rod
shall contain all their families:
17:4. And thou shalt lay them up in the tabernacle of the covenant
before the testimony, where I will speak to thee.
17:5. Whomsoever of these I shall choose, his rod shall blossom:  and I
will make to cease from me the murmurings of the children of Israel,
wherewith they murmur against you.
17:6. And Moses spoke to the children of Israel:  and all the princes
gave him rods one for every tribe:  and there were twelve rods besides
the rod of Aaron.
17:7. And when Moses had Laid them up before the Lord in the tabernacle
of the testimony:
17:8. He returned on the following day, and found that the rod of Aaron
for the house of Levi, was budded:  and that the buds swelling it hid
bloomed blossoms, which spreading the leaves, were formed into almonds.
The rod of Aaron for the house of Levi, was budded, etc. . .This rod of
Aaron which thus miraculously brought forth fruit, was a figure of the
blessed Virgin conceiving and bringing forth her Son without any
prejudice to her virginity.
17:9. Moses therefore brought out all the rods from before the Lord to
all the children of Israel:  and they saw, and every one received their
17:10. And the Lord said to Moses:  Carry back the rod of Aaron into the
tabernacle of the testimony, that it may be kept there for a token of
the rebellious children of Israel, and that their complaints may cease
from me lest they die.
17:11. And Moses did as the Lord had commanded.
17:12. And the children of Israel said to Moses:  Behold we are
consumed, we all perish.
17:13. Whosoever approacheth to the tabernacle of the Lord, he dieth.
Are we all to a man to be utterly destroyed?
Numbers Chapter 18
The charge of the priests and of the Levites, and their portion.
18:1. And the Lord said to Aaron:  Thou, and thy sons, and thy father's
house with thee shall bear the iniquity of the sanctuary:  and thou and
thy sons with thee shall bear the sins of your priesthood.
Thou, and thy father's house with thee, shall bear the iniquity of the
sanctuary. . .That is, you shall be punished if, through negligence or
want of due attention, you err in the discharge of the sacred functions
for which you were ordained.
18:2. And take with thee thy brethren also of the tribe of Levi, and
the sceptre of thy father, and let them be ready in hand, and minister
to thee:  but thou and thy sons shall minister in the tabernacle of the
18:3. And the Levites shall watch to do thy commands, and about all the
works of the tabernacle:  only they shall not come nigh the vessels of
the sanctuary nor the altar, lest both they die, and you also perish
18:4. But let them be with thee, and watch in the charge of the
tabernacle, and in all the ceremonies thereof.  A stranger shall not
join himself with you.
18:5. Watch ye in the charge of the sanctuary, and in the ministry of
the altar:  lest indignation rise upon the children of Israel.
18:6. I have given you your brethren the Levites from among the
children of Israel, and have delivered them for a gift to the Lord, to
serve in the ministries of the tabernacle.
18:7. But thou and thy sons look ye to the priesthood:  and all things
that pertain to the service of the altar, and that are within the veil,
shall be executed by the priests.  If any stranger shall approach, he
shall be slain.
18:8. And the Lord said to Aaron:  Behold I have given thee the charge
of my firstfruits.  All things that are sanctified by the children of
Israel, I have delivered to thee and to thy sons for the priestly
office, by everlasting ordinances.
18:9. These therefore shalt thou take of the things that are
sanctified, and are offered to the Lord.  Every offering, and sacrifice,
and whatsoever is rendered to me for sin and for trespass, and becometh
holy of holies, shall be for thee and thy sons.
18:10. Thou shalt eat it in the sanctuary:  the males only shall eat
thereof, because it is a consecrated thing to thee.
18:11. But the firstfruits, which the children of Israel shall vow and
offer, I have given to thee, and to thy sons, and to thy daughters, by
a perpetual law.  He that is clean in thy house, shall eat them.
18:12. All the best of the oil, and of the wine, and of the corn,
whatsoever firstfruits they offer to the Lord, I have given them to
18:13. All the firstripe of the fruits, that the ground bringeth forth,
and which are brought to the Lord, shall be for thy use:  he that is
clean in thy house, shall eat them.
18:14. Every thing that the children of Israel shall give by vow, shall
18:15. Whatsoever is firstborn of all flesh, which they offer to the
Lord, whether it be of men, or of beasts, shall belong to thee:  only
for the firstborn of man thou shalt take a price, and every beast that
is unclean thou shalt cause to be redeemed,
18:16. And the redemption of it shall be after one month, for five
sicles of silver, by the weight of the sanctuary.  A sicle hath twenty
18:17. But the firstling of a cow, and of a sheep and of a goat thou
shalt not cause to be redeemed, because they are sanctified to the
Lord.  Their blood only thou shalt pour upon the altar, and their fat
thou shalt burn for a most sweet odour to the Lord.
18:18. But the flesh shall fall to thy use, as the consecrated breast,
and the right shoulder shall be thine.
18:19. All the firstfruits of the sanctuary which the children of
Israel offer to the Lord, I have given to thee and to thy sons and
daughters, by a perpetual ordinance.  It is a covenant of salt for ever
before the Lord, to thee and to thy sons.
A covenant of salt. . .It is a proverbial expression, signifying a
covenant not to be altered or corrupted; as salt is used to keep things
from corruption; a covenant perpetual, like that by which it was
appointed, that salt should be used in every sacrifice.  Lev. 2.
18:20. And the Lord said to Aaron:  You shall possess nothing in their
land, neither shall you have a portion among them:  I am thy portion and
inheritance in the midst of the children of Israel.
18:21. And I have given to the sons of Levi all the tithes of Israel
for a possession, for the ministry wherewith they serve me in the
tabernacle of the covenant:
18:22. That the children of Israel may not approach any more to the
tabernacle, nor commit deadly sin,
Deadly sin. . .That is, sin which will bring death after it.
18:23. But only the sons of Levi may serve me in the tabernacle, and
bear the sins of the people.  It shall be an everlasting ordinance in
your generations.  They shall not possess any other thing,
18:24. But be content with the oblation or tithes, which I have
separated for their uses and necessities.
18:25. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
18:26. Command the Levites, and declare unto them:  When you shall
receive of the children of Israel the tithes, which I have given you,
offer the firstfruits of them to the Lord, that is to say, the tenth
part of the tenth:
18:27. That it may be reckoned to you as an oblation of firstfruits, as
well of the barnfloors as of the winepresses:
18:28. And of all the things of which you receive tithes, offer the
firstfruits to the Lord, and give them to Aaron the priest.
18:29. All the things that you shall offer of the tithes, and shall
separate for the gifts of the Lord, shall be the best and choicest
18:30. And thou shalt say to them:  If you offer all the goodly and the
better things of the tithes, it shall be reckoned to you as if you had
given the firstfruits of the barnfloor and the winepress:
18:31. And you shall eat them in all your places, both you and your
families:  because it is your reward for the ministry, wherewith you
serve in the tabernacle of the testimony.
18:32. And you shall not sin in this point, by reserving the choicest
and fat things to yourselves, lest you profane the oblations of the
children of Israel, and die.
Numbers Chapter 19
The law of the sacrifice of the red cow, and the water of expiation.
19:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
19:2. This is the observance of the victim, which the Lord hath
ordained.  Command the children of Israel, that they bring unto thee a
red cow of full age, in which there is no blemish, and which hath not
carried the yoke:
A red cow, etc. . .This red cow, offered in sacrifice for sin, and
consumed with fire without the camp, with the ashes of which, mingled
with water, the unclean were to be expiated and purified; was a figure
of the passion of Christ, by whose precious blood applied to our souls
in the holy sacraments, we are cleansed from our sins.
19:3. And you shall deliver her to Eleazar the priest, who shall bring
her forth without the camp, and shall immolate her in the sight of all:
19:4. And dipping his finger in her blood, shall sprinkle it over
against the door of the tabernacle seven times,
19:5. And shall burn her in the sight of all delivering up to the fire
her skin, and her flesh, and her blood, and her dung.
19:6. The priest shall also take cedar wood, and hyssop, and scarlet
twice dyed, and cast it into the flame, with which the cow is consumed.
19:7. And then after washing his garments, and body, he shall enter
into the camp, and shall be unclean until the evening.
19:8. He also that hath burned her, shall wash his garments, and his
body, and shall be unclean until the evening.
19:9. And a man that is clean shall gather up the ashes of the cow, and
shall pour them forth without the camp in a most clean place, that they
may be reserved for the multitude of the children of Israel, and for a
water of aspersion:  because the cow was burnt for sin.
19:10. And when he that carried the ashes of the cow, hath washed his
garments, he shall be unclean until the evening.  The children of
Israel, and the strangers that dwell among them, shall observe this for
a holy thing by a perpetual ordinance.
19:11. He that toucheth the corpse of a man, and is therefore unclean
19:12. Shall be sprinkled with this water on the third day, and on the
seventh, and so shall be cleansed.  If he were not sprinkled on the
third day, he cannot be cleansed on the seventh.
19:13. Every one that toucheth the corpse of a man, and is not
sprinkled with this mixture, shall profane the tabernacle of the Lord,
and shall perish out of Israel:  because he was not sprinkled with the
water of expiation, he shall be unclean, and his uncleanness shall
remain upon him.
19:14. This is the law of a man that dieth in a tent:  All that go into
his tent and all the vessels that are there, shall be unclean seven
19:15. The vessel that hath no cover, nor binding over it, shall be
19:16. If any man in the field touch the corpse of a man that was
slain, or that died of himself, or his bone, or his grave, he shall be
unclean seven days.
19:17. And they shall take of the ashes of the burning and of the sin
offering, and shall pour living waters upon them into a vessel.
19:18. And a man that is clean shall dip hyssop in them, and shall
sprinkle therewith all the tent, and all the furniture, and the men
that are defiled with touching any such thing:
19:19. And in this manner he that is clean shall purify the unclean on
the third and on the seventh day.  And being expiated the seventh day,
he shall wash both himself and his garments, and be unclean until the
19:20. If any man be not expiated after this rite, his soul shall
perish out of the midst of the church:  because he hath profaned the
sanctuary of the Lord, and was not sprinkled with the water of
purification.
19:21. This precept shall be an ordinance for ever.  He also that
sprinkled the water, shall wash his garments.  Every one that shall
touch the waters of expiation, shall be unclean until the evening.
19:22. Whatsoever a person toucheth who is unclean, he shall make it
unclean:  and the person that toucheth any of these things, shall be
unclean until the evening.
Numbers Chapter 20
The death of Mary the sister of Moses.  The people murmur for want of
water:  God giveth it them from the rock.  The death of Aaron.
20:1. And the children of Israel, and all the multitude came into the
desert of Sin, in the first month:  and the people abode in Cades.  And
Mary died there, and was buried in the same place.
20:2. And the people wanting water, came together against Moses and
20:3. And making a sedition, they said:  Would God we had perished among
our brethren before the Lord.
20:4. Why have you brought out the church of the Lord into the
wilderness, that both we and our cattle should die?
20:5. Why have you made us come up out of Egypt, and have brought us
into this wretched place which cannot be sowed, nor bringeth forth
figs, nor vines, nor pomegranates, neither is there any water to drink?
20:6. And Moses and Aaron leaving the multitude, went into the
tabernacle of the covenant, and fell flat upon the ground, and cried to
the Lord, and said.  O Lord God, hear the cry of this people, and open
to them thy treasure, a fountain of living water, that being satisfied,
they may cease to murmur.  And the glory of the Lord appeared over them.
20:7. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
20:8. Take the rod, and assemble the people together, thou and Aaron
thy brother, and speak to the rock before them, and it shall yield
waters.  And when thou hast brought forth water out of the rock, all the
multitude and their cattle shall drink.
20:9. Moses therefore took the rod, which was before the Lord, as he
had commanded him,
20:10. And having gathered together the multitude before the rock, he
said to them:  Hear, ye rebellious and incredulous:  Can we bring you
forth water out of this rock?
20:11. And when Moses bad lifted up his hand, and struck the rock twice
with the rod, there came forth water in great abundance, so that the
people and their cattle drank,
The rock. . .This rock was a figure of Christ, and the water that issued
out from the rock, of his precious blood, the source of all our good.
20:12. And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron:  Because you have not
believed me, to sanctify me before the children of Israel, you shall
not bring these people into the land, which I will give them.
You have not believed, etc. . .The fault of Moses and Aaron, on this
occasion, was a certain diffidence and weakness of faith; not doubting
of God's power or veracity; but apprehending the unworthiness of that
rebellious and incredulous people, and therefore speaking with some
20:13. This is the Water of contradiction, where the children of Israel
strove with words against the Lord, and he was sanctified in them.
The Water of contradiction. . .Or strife.  Hebrew, Meribah.
20:14. In the mean time Moses sent messengers from Cades to the king of
Edom, to say:  Thus saith thy brother Israel:  Thou knowest all the
labour that hath come upon us:
20:15. In what manner our fathers went down into Egypt, and there we
dwelt a long time, and the Egyptians afflicted us and our fathers.
20:16. And how we cried to the Lord, and he heard us, and sent an
angel, who hath brought us out of Egypt.  Lo, we are now in the city of
Cades, which is in the uttermost of thy borders,
20:17. And we beseech thee that we may have leave to pass through thy
country.  We will not go through the fields, nor through the vineyards,
we will not drink the waters of thy wells, but we will go by the common
highway, neither turning aside to the right hand, nor to the left, till
we are past thy borders.
20:18. And Edom answered them:  Thou shalt not pass by me:  if thou dost
I will come out armed against thee.
20:19. And the children of Israel said:  We will go by the beaten way:
and if we and our cattle drink of thy waters, we will give thee what is
just:  there shall be no difficulty in the price, only let us pass
20:20. But he answered:  Thou shalt not pass.  And immediately he came
forth to meet them with an infinite multitude, and a strong hand,
20:21. Neither would he condescend to their desire to grant them
passage through his borders.  Wherefore Israel turned another way from
20:22. And when they had removed the camp from Cades, they came to
mount Hor, which is in the borders of the land of Edom:
20:23. Where the Lord spoke to Moses:
20:24. Let Aaron, saith he, go to his people:  for he shall not go into
the land which I have given the children of Israel, because he was
incredulous to my words, at the waters of contradiction.
20:25. Take Aaron and his son with him, and bring them up into mount
20:26. And when thou hast stripped the father of his vesture, thou
shalt vest therewith Eleazar his son:  Aaron shall be gathered to his
people, and die there.
20:27. Moses did as the Lord had commanded:  and they went up into mount
Hor before all the multitude.
20:28. And when he had stripped Aaron of his vestments, he vested
Eleazar his son with them.
20:29. And Aaron being dead in the top of the mountain, he came down
with Eleazar.
20:30. And all the multitude seeing that Aaron was dead, mourned for
him thirty days throughout all their families.
Numbers Chapter 21
King Arad is overcome.  The people murmur and are punished with fiery
serpents:  they are healed by the brazen serpent.  They conquer the kings
Sehon and Og.
21:1. And when king Arad the Chanaanite, who dwelt towards the south,
had heard this, to wit, that Israel was come by the way of the spies,
he fought against them, and overcoming them carried off their spoils.
21:2. But Israel binding himself by vow to the Lord, said:  If thou wilt
deliver thus people into my hand, I will utterly destroy their cities.
21:3. And the Lord heard the prayers of Israel, and delivered up the
Chanaanite, and they cut them off and destroyed their cities:  and they
called the name of that place Horma, that is to say, Anathema.
Anathema. . .That is, a thing devoted to utter destruction.
21:4. And they marched from mount Hor, by the way that leadeth to the
Red Sea, to compass the land of Edom.  And the people began to be weary
of their journey and labour:
21:5. And speaking against God and Moses, they said:  Why didst thou
bring us out of Egypt, to die in the wilderness?  There is no bread, nor
have we any waters:  our soul now loatheth this very light food.
Very light food. . .So they call the heavenly manna:  thus worldlings
loathe the things of heaven, for which they have no relish.
21:6. Wherefore the Lord sent among the people fiery serpents, which
bit them and killed many of them.
Fiery serpents. . .They are so called, because they that were bitten by
them were burnt with a violent heat.
21:7. Upon which they came to Moses, and said; We have sinned, because
we have spoken against the Lord and thee:  pray that he may take away
these serpents from us.  And Moses prayed for the people.
21:8. And the Lord said to him:  Make a brazen serpent, and set it up
for a sign:  whosoever being struck shall look on it, shall live.
21:9. Moses therefore made a brazen serpent, and set it up for a sign:
which when they that were bitten looked upon, they were healed.
A brazen serpent. . .This was a figure of Christ crucified, and of the
efficacy of a lively faith in him, against the bites of the hellish
serpent.  John 3.14.
21:10. And the children of Israel setting forwards camped in Oboth.
21:11. And departing thence they pitched their tents in Jeabarim, in
the wilderness, that faceth Moab toward the east.
21:12. And removing from thence, they came to the torrent Zared:
21:13. Which they left and encamped over against Arnon, which is in the
desert and standeth out on the borders of the Amorrhite.  For Arnon is
the border of Moab, dividing the Moabites and the Amorrhites.
21:14. Wherefore it is said in the book of the wars of the Lord:  As he
did in the Red Sea, so will he do in the streams of Arnon.
The book of the wars, etc. . .An ancient book, which, like several
others quoted in scripture, has been lost.
21:15. The rocks of the torrents were bowed down that they might rest
in Ar, and lie down in the borders of the Moabites.
21:16. When they went from that place, the well appeared whereof the
Lord said to Moses:  Gather the people together, and I will give them
21:17. Then Israel sung this song:  Let the well spring up.  They sung
21:18. The well, which the princes dug, and the chiefs of the people
prepared by the direction of the lawgiver, and with their staves.  And
they marched from the wilderness to Mathana.
21:19. From Mathana unto Nahaliel:  from Nahaliel unto Bamoth.
21:20. From Bamoth, is a valley in the country of Moab, to the top of
Phasga, which looked towards the desert.
21:21. And Israel sent messengers to Sehon king of the Amorrhites,
21:22. I beseech thee that I may have leave to pass through thy land:
we will not go aside into the fields or the vineyards, we will not
drink waters of the wells, we will go the king's highway, till we be
past thy borders.
21:23. And he would not grant that Israel should pass by his borders:
but rather gathering an army, went forth to meet them in the desert,
and came to Jasa and fought against them.
21:24. And he was slain by them with the edge of the sword, and they
possessed his land from the Arnon unto the Jeboc, and to the confines
of the children of Ammon:  for the borders of the Ammonites, were kept
with a strong garrison.
21:25. So Israel took all his cities, and dwelt in the cities of the
Amorrhite, to wit, in Hesebon, and in the villages thereof.
21:26. Hesebon was the city of Sehon the king of the Amorrhites, who
fought against the king of Moab:  and took all the land, that had been
of his dominion, as far as the Arnon.
21:27. Therefore it is said in the proverb:  Come into Hesebon, let the
city of Sehon be built and set up:
21:28. A fire is gone out of Hesebon, a flame from the city of Sehon,
and hath consumed Ar of the Moabites, and the inhabitants of the high
places of the Arnon.
21:29. Woe to thee Moab:  thou art undone, O people of Chamos.  He hath
given his sons to flight, and his daughters into captivity to Sehon the
king of the Amorrhites.
21:30. Their yoke is perished from Hesebon unto Dibon, they came weary
to Nophe, and unto Medaba.
21:31. So Israel dwelt in the land of the Amorrhite.
21:32. And Moses sent some to take a view of Jazer:  and they took the
villages of it, and conquered the inhabitants.
21:33. And they turned themselves, and went up by the way of Basan, and
Og the king of Basan came against them with all his people, to fight in
21:34. And the Lord said to Moses:  Fear him not, for I have delivered
him and all his people, and his country into thy hand:  and thou shalt
do to him as thou didst to Sehon the king of the Amorrhites, the
inhabitant of Hesebon.
21:35. So they slew him also with his sons, and all his people, not
letting any one escape, and they possessed his land.
Numbers Chapter 22
Balac, king of Moab, sendeth twice for Balaam to curse Israel.  In his
way Balaam is rebuked by an angel.
22:1. And they went forward and encamped in the plains of Moab, over
against where Jericho is situate beyond the Jordan.
22:2. And Balac the son of Sephor, seeing all that Israel had done to
the Amorrhite,
22:3. And that the Moabites were in great fear of him, and were not
able to sustain his assault,
22:4. He said to the elders of Madian:  So will this people destroy all
that dwell in our borders, as the ox is wont to eat the grass to the
very roots.  Now he was at that time king in Moab.
22:5. He sent therefore messengers to Balaam the son of Beor, a
soothsayer, who dwelt by the river of the land of the children of
Ammon, to call him, and to say:  Behold a people is come out of Egypt,
that hath covered the face of the earth, sitting over against me.
22:6. Come therefore, and curse this people, because it is mightier
than I:  if by any means I may beat them and drive them out of my land:
for I know that he whom thou shalt bless is blessed, and he whom thou
shalt curse is cursed.
22:7. And the ancients of Moab, and the elders of Madian, went with the
price of divination in their hands.  And where they were come to Balaam,
and had told him all the words of Balac:
22:8. He answered:  Tarry here this night and I will answer whatsoever
the Lord shall say to me.  And while they stayed with Balaam, God came
and said to him:
22:9. What mean these men that are with thee?
22:10. He answered:  Balac the son of Sephor king of the Moabites hath
22:11. Saying:  Behold a people that is come out of Egypt, hath covered
the face of the land:  come and curse them, if by any means I may fight
with them and drive them away.
22:12. And God said to Balaam:  Thou shalt not go with them, nor shalt
thou curse the people:  because it is blessed.
22:13. And he rose in the morning and said to the princes:  Go into your
country, because the Lord hath forbid me to come with you.
22:14. The princes returning, said to Balac:  Balaam would not come with
22:15. Then he sent many more and more noble than he had sent before:
22:16. Who, when they were come to Balaam, said:  Thus saith Balac the
son of Sephor, Delay not to come to me:
22:17. For I am ready to honour thee, and will give thee whatsoever
thou wilt:  come and curse this people.
22:18. Balaam answered:  If Balac would give me his house full of silver
and gold, I cannot alter the word of the Lord my God, to speak either
more or less.
22:19. I pray you to stay here this night also, that I may know what
the Lord will answer me once more.
To stay. . .His desiring them to stay, after he had been fully informed
already that it was not God's will he should go, came from the
inclination he had to gratify Balac, for the sake of worldly gain.  And
this perverse disposition God punished by permitting him to go (though
not to curse the people as he would willingly have done), and suffering
him to fall still deeper and deeper into sin, till he came at last to
give that abominable counsel against the people of God, which ended in
his own destruction.  So sad a thing it is to indulge a passion for
22:20. God therefore came to Balaam in the night, and said to him:  If
these men be come to call thee, arise and go with them:  yet so, that
thou do what I shall command thee.
22:21. Balaam arose in the morning, and saddling his ass went with
22:22. And God was angry.  And an angel of the Lord stood in the way
against Balaam, who sat on the ass, and had two servants with him.
22:23. The ass seeing the angel standing in the way, with a drawn
sword, turned herself out of the way, and went into the field.  And when
Balaam beat her, and had a mind to bring her again to the way,
22:24. The angel stood in a narrow place between two walls, wherewith
the vineyards were enclosed.
22:25. And the ass seeing him, thrust herself close to the wall, and
bruised the foot of the rider.  But he beat her again:
22:26. And nevertheless the angel going on to a narrow place, where
there was no way to turn aside either to the right hand or to the left,
stood to meet him.
22:27. And when the ass saw the angel standing, she fell under the feet
of the rider:  who being angry beat her sides more vehemently with a
22:28. And the Lord opened the mouth of the ass, and she said:  What
have I done to thee?  Why strikest thou me, lo, now this third time?
Opened the mouth, etc. . .The angel moved the tongue of the ass, to
utter these speeches, to rebuke, by the mouth of a brute beast, the
brutal fury and folly of Balaam.
22:29. Balaam answered:  Because thou hast deserved it, and hast served
me ill:  I would I had a sword that I might kill thee.
22:30. The ass said:  Am not I thy beast, on which thou hast been always
accustomed to ride until this present day?  tell me if I ever did the
like thing to thee.  But he said:  Never.
22:31. Forthwith the Lord opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw the
angel standing in the way with a drawn sword, and he worshipped him
falling flat on the ground.
22:32. And the angel said to him:  Why beatest thou thy ass these three
times?  I am come to withstand thee, because thy way is perverse, and
contrary to me:
Perverse. . .Because thy inclinations are wicked in being willing for
the sake of gain to curse the people of whom I am the guardian.
22:33. And unless the ass had turned out of the way, giving place to me
who stood against thee, I had slain thee, and she should have lived.
22:34. Balaam said:  I have sinned, not knowing that thou didst stand
against me:  and now if it displease thee that I go, I will return.
22:35. The angel said:  Go with these men, and see thou speak no other
thing than what I shall command thee.  He went therefore with the
22:36. And when Balac heard it he came forth to meet him in a town of
the Moabites, that is situate in the uttermost borders of Arnon.
22:37. And he said to Balaam:  I sent messengers to call thee, why didst
thou not come immediately to me?  was it because I am not able to reward
22:38. He answered him:  Lo, here I am:  shall I have power to speak any
other thing but that which God shall put in my mouth?
22:39. So they went on together, and came into a city, that was in the
uttermost borders of his kingdom.
22:40. And when Balac had killed oxen and sheep, he sent presents to
Balaam, and to the princes that were with him.
22:41. And when morning was come, he brought him to the high places of
Baal, and he beheld the uttermost part of the people.
Numbers Chapter 23
Balaam, instead of cursing Israel, is obliged to bless them, and
prophesy good things of them.
23:1. And Balaam said to Balac:  Build me here seven altars, and prepare
as many calves, and the same number of rams.
23:2. And when he had done according to the word of Balaam, they laid
together a calf and a ram upon every altar.
23:3. And Balaam said to Balac:  Stand a while by thy burnt offering,
until I go, to see if perhaps the Lord will meet me, and whatsoever he
shall command, I will speak to thee.
23:4. And when he was gone with speed, God met him.  And Balaam speaking
to him, said:  I have erected seven altars, and have laid on everyone a
calf and a ram.
23:5. And the Lord put the word in his mouth, and said:  Return to
Balac, and thus shalt thou speak.
23:6. Returning he found Balac standing by his burnt offering, with all
the princes of the Moabites:
23:7. And taking up his parable, he said:  Balac king of the Moabites
hath brought me from Aram, from the mountains of the east:  Come, said
he, and curse Jacob:  make haste and detest Israel.
23:8. How shall I curse him, whom God hath not cursed?  By what means
should I detest him, whom the Lord detesteth not?
23:9. I shall see him from the tops of the rocks, and shall consider
him from the hills.  This people shall dwell alone, and shall not be
reckoned among the nations.
23:10. Who can count the dust of Jacob, and know the number of the
stock of Israel?  Let my soul die the death of the just, and my last end
be like to them.
23:11. And Balac said to Balaam:  What is this that thou dost?  I sent
for thee to curse my enemies:  and thou contrariwise blessest them.
23:12. He answered him:  Can I speak any thing else but what the Lord
23:13. Balac therefore said:  Come with me to another place from whence
thou mayest see part of Israel, and canst not see them all:  curse them
from thence.
23:14. And when he had brought him to a high place, upon the top of
mount Phasga, Balaam built seven altars, and laying on every one a calf
23:15. He said to Balac:  Stand here by thy burnt offering while I go to
23:16. And when the Lord had met him, and had put the word in his
mouth, he said:  Return to Balac, and thus shalt thou say to him.
23:17. Returning he found him standing by his burnt sacrifice, and the
princes of the Moabites with him.  And Balac said to him:  What hath the
Lord spoken?
23:18. But he taking up his parable, said:  Stand, O Balac, and give
ear:  hear, thou son of Sephor:
23:19. God is not a man, that he should lie, nor is the son of man,
that he should be changed.  Hath he said then, and will he not do?  hath
he spoken, and will he not fulfil?
23:20. I was brought to bless, the blessing I am not able to hinder.
23:21. There is no idol in Jacob, neither is there an image god to be
seen in Israel.  The Lord his God is with him, and the sound of the
victory of the king in him.
23:22. God hath brought him out of Egypt, whose strength is like to the
23:23. There is no soothsaying in Jacob, nor divination in Israel.  In
their times it shall be told to Jacob and to Israel what God hath
23:24. Behold the people shall rise up as a lioness, and shall lift
itself up as a lion:  it shall not lie down till it devour the prey, and
drink the blood of the slain.
23:25. And Balac said to Balaam:  Neither curse, nor bless him.
23:26. And he said:  Did I not tell thee, that whatsoever God should
command me, that I would do?
23:27. And Balac said to him:  Come and I will bring thee to another
place; if peradventure it please God that thou mayest curse them from
23:28. And when he had brought him upon the top of mount Phogor, which
looketh towards the wilderness,
23:29. Balaam said to him:  Build me here seven altars, and prepare as
many calves, and the same number of rams.
23:30. Balac did as Balaam had said:  and he laid on every altar, a calf
Numbers Chapter 24
Balaam still continues to prophesy good things in favour of Israel.
24:1. And when Balaam saw that it pleased the Lord that he should bless
Israel, he went not as he had gone before, to seek divination:  but
setting his face towards the desert,
24:2. And lifting up his eyes, he saw Israel abiding in their tents by
their tribes:  and the spirit of God rushing upon him,
24:3. He took up his parable and said:  Balaam the son of Beor hath
said:  The man hath said, whose eye is stopped up:
24:4. The bearer of the words of God hath said, he that hath beheld the
vision of the Almighty, he that falleth, and so his eyes are opened:
24:5. How beautiful are thy tabernacles O Jacob, and thy tents, O
24:6. As woody valleys, as watered gardens near the rivers, as
tabernacles which the Lord hath pitched, as cedars by the waterside.
24:7. Water shall flow out of his bucket, and his seed shall be in many
waters.  For Agag his king shall be removed, and his kingdom shall be
24:8. God hath brought him out of Egypt, whose strength is like to the
rhinoceros.  They shall devour the nations that are his enemies, and
break their bones, and pierce them with arrows.
24:9. Lying down he hath slept as a lion, and as a lioness, whom none
shall dare to rouse.  He that blesseth thee, shall also himself be
blessed:  he that curseth thee shall be reckoned accursed.
24:10. And Balac being angry against Balaam, clapped his hands together
and said:  I called thee to curse my enemies, and thou on the contrary
hast blessed them three times.
24:11. Return to thy place.  I had determined indeed greatly to honour
thee, but the Lord hath deprived thee of the honour designed for thee.
24:12. Balaam made answer to Balac:  Did I not say to thy messengers,
whom thou sentest to me:
24:13. If Balac would give me his house full of silver and gold, I
cannot go beyond the word of the Lord my God, to utter any thing of my
own head either good or evil:  but whatsoever the Lord shall say, that I
24:14. But yet going to my people, I will give thee counsel, what this
people shall do to thy people in the latter days.
24:15. Therefore taking up his parable, again he said:  Balaam the son
of Beor hath said:  The man whose eye is stopped up, hath said:
24:16. The hearer of the words of God hath said, who knoweth the
doctrine of the Highest, and seeth the visions of the Almighty, who
falling hath his eyes opened:
24:17. I shall see him, but not now:  I shall behold him, but not near.
A STAR SHALL RISE out of Jacob and a sceptre shall spring up from
Israel:  and shall strike the chiefs of Moab, and shall waste all the
children of Seth
24:18. And he shall possess Idumea:  the inheritance of Seir shall come
to their enemies, but Israel shall do manfully.
24:19. Out of Jacob shall he come that shall rule, and shall destroy
the remains of the city.
24:20. And when he saw Amalec, he took up his parable, and said:  Amalec
the beginning of nations, whose latter ends shall be destroyed.
24:21. He saw also the Cinite:  and took up his parable, and said:  Thy
habitation indeed is strong:  but though thou build thy nest in a rock,
24:22. And thou be chosen of the stock of Cin, how long shalt thou be
able to continue?  For Assur shall take thee captive.
24:23. And taking up his parable, again he said:  Alas, who shall live
when God shall do these things?
24:24. They shall come in galleys from Italy, they shall overcome the
Assyrians, and shall waste the Hebrews, and at the last they themselves
also shall perish.
24:25. And Balaam rose, and returned to his place:  Balac also returned
the way that he came.
Numbers Chapter 25
The people fall into fornication and idolatry; for which twenty-four
thousand are slain.  The zeal of Phinees.
25:1. And Israel at that time abode in Settim, and the people committed
fornication with the daughters of Moab,
25:2. Who called them to their sacrifices.  And they ate of them, and
adored their gods.
25:3. And Israel was initiated to Beelphegor:  upon which the Lord being
Initiated to Beelphegor. . .That is, they took to the worship of
Beelphegor, an obscene idol of the Moabites, and were consecrated, as
it were, to him.
25:4. Said to Moses:  Take all the princes of the people, and hang them
up on gibbets against the sun:  that my fury may be turned away from
25:5. And Moses said to the judges of Israel:  Let every man kill his
neighbours, that have been initiated to Beelphegor.
25:6. And behold one of the children of Israel went in before his
brethren to a harlot of Madian, in the sight of Moses and of all the
children of Israel, who were weeping before the door of the tabernacle.
25:7. And when Phinees the son of Eleazar the son of Aaron the priest
saw it, he rose up from the midst of the multitude, and taking a
25:8. Went in after the Israelite into the brothel house, and thrust
both of them through together, to wit, the man and the woman in the
genital parts.  And the scourge ceased from the children of Israel.
25:9. And there were slain four and twenty thousand men.
25:10. And the Lord said to Moses:
25:11. Phinees the son of Eleazar the son of Aaron the priest, hath
turned away my wrath from the children of Israel:  because he was moved
with my zeal against them, that I myself might not destroy the children
of Israel in my zeal.
25:12. Therefore say to him:  behold I give him the peace of my
25:13. And the covenant of the priesthood for ever shall be both to him
and his seed, because he hath been zealous for his God, and hath made
atonement for the wickedness of the children of Israel.
25:14. And the name of the Israelite, that was slain with the woman of
Madian, was Zambri the son of Salu, a prince of the kindred and tribe
25:15. And the Madianite woman, that was slain with him, was called
Cozbi the daughter of Sur, a most noble prince among the Madianites.
25:16. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
25:17. Let the Madianites find you their enemies, and slay you them:
25:18. Because they also have acted like enemies against you, and have
guilefully deceived you by the idol Phogor, and Cozbi their sister, a
daughter of a prince of Madian, who was slain in the day of the plague
for the sacrilege of Phogor.
Numbers Chapter 26
The people are again numbered by their tribes and families.
26:1. After the blood of the guilty was shed, the Lord said to Moses
and to Eleazar the son of Aaron, the priest:
26:2. Number the whole sum of the children of Israel from twenty years
old and upward, by their houses and kindreds, all that are able to go
forth to war.
26:3. Moses therefore and Eleazar the priest, being in the plains of
Moab upon the Jordan over against Jericho, spoke to them that were
26:4. From twenty years old and upward, as the Lord had commanded:  and
this is the number of them:
26:5. Ruben the firstborn of Israel.  His sons were Henoch, of whom is
the family of the Henochites:  and Phallu, of whom is the family of the
26:6. And Hesron, of whom is the family of the Hesronites:  and Charmi,
of whom is the family of the Charmites.
26:7. These are the families of the stock of Ruben:  whose number was
found to be forty-three thousand seven hundred and thirty.
26:8. The son of Phallu was Eliab.
26:9. His sons, were Namuel and Dathan and Abiron.  These are Dathan and
Abiron the princes of the people, that rose against Moses and Aaron in
the sedition of Core, when they rebelled against the Lord:
26:10. And the earth opening her mouth swallowed up Core, many others
dying, when the fire burned two hundred and fifty men.  And there was a
great miracle wrought,
26:11. That when Core perished, his sons did not perish.
26:12. The sons of Simeon by their kindreds:  Namuel, of him is the
family of the Namuelites:  Jamin, of him is the family of the Jaminites:
Jachim, of him is the family of the Jachimites:
26:13. Zare, of him is the family of the Zarites:  Saul, of him is the
family of the Saulites.
26:14. These are the families of the stock of Simeon, of which the
whole number was twenty-two thousand two hundred.
26:15. The sons of Gad by their kindreds:  Sephon, of him is the family
of the Sephonites:  Aggi, of him is the family of the Aggites:  Suni, of
him is the family of the Sunites:
26:16. Ozni, of him is the family of the Oznites:  Her, of him is the
family of the Herites:
26:17. Arod, of him is the family of the Arodites:  Ariel, of him is the
family of the Arielites.
26:18. These are the families of Gad, of which the whole number was
forty thousand five hundred.
26:19. The sons of Juda, Her and Onan, who both died in the land of
26:20. And the sons of Juda by their kindreds were:  Sela, of whom is
the family of the Selaites:  Phares, of whom is the family of the
Pharesites:  Zare, of whom is the family of the Zarites.
26:21. Moreover the sons of Phares were:  Hesron, of whom is the family
of the Hesronites:  and Hamul, of whom is the family of the Hamulites.
26:22. These are the families of Juda, of which the whole number was
seventy-six thousand five hundred.
26:23. The sons of Issachar, by their kindreds:  Thola of whom is the
family of the Tholaites:  Phua, of whom is the family of the Phuaites:
26:24. Jasub, of whom is the family of the Jasubites:  Semran, of whom
is the family of the Semranites.
26:25. These are the kindreds of Issachar, whose number was sixty-four
thousand three hundred.
26:26. The sons of Zabulon by their kindreds:  Sared, of whom is the
family of the Saredites:  Elon, of whom is the family of the Elonites:
Jalel, of whom is the family of the Jalelites.
26:27. These are the kindreds of Zabulon, whose number was sixty
thousand five hundred.
26:28. The sons of Joseph by their kindred, Manasses and Ephraim.
26:29. Of Manasses was born Machir, of whom is the family of the
Machirites.  Machir begot Galaad, of whom is the family of the
26:30. Galaad had sons:  Jezer, of whom is the family of the Jezerites:
and Helec, of whom is the family of the Helecites:
26:31. And Asriel, of whom is the family of the Asrielites:  and Sechem,
of whom is the family of the Sechemites:
26:32. And Semida, of whom is the family of the Semidaites:  and Hepher,
of whom is the family of the Hepherites.
26:33. And Hepher was the father of Salphaad, who had no sons, but only
daughters, whose names are these:  Maala, and Noa, and Hegla, and
Melcha, and Thersa.
26:34. These are the families of Manasses, and the number of them
fifty-two thousand seven hundred.
26:35. And the sons of Ephraim by their kindreds were these:  Suthala,
of whom is the family of the Suthalaites:  Becher, of whom is the family
of the Becherites:  Thehen, of whom is the family of the Thehenites.
26:36. Now the son of Suthala was Heran, of whom is the family of the
26:37. These are the kindreds of the sons of Ephraim:  whose number was
thirty-two thousand five hundred.
26:38. These are the sons of Joseph by their families.  The sons of
Benjamin in their kindreds:  Bela, of whom is the family of the
Belaites:  Asbel, of whom is the family of the Asbelites:  Ahiram, of
whom is the family of the Ahiramites:
26:39. Supham, of whom is the family of the Suphamites:  Hupham, of whom
is the family of the Huphamites.
26:40. The sons of Bela:  Hered, and Noeman.  Of Hered, is the family of
the Heredites:  of Noeman, the family of the Noemanites.
26:41. These are the sons of Benjamin by their kindreds, whose number
was forty-five thousand six hundred.
26:42. The sons of Dan by their kindreds:  Suham, of whom is the family
of the Suhamites:  These are the kindreds of Dan by their families.
26:43. All were Suhamites, whose number was sixty-four thousand four
26:44. The sons of Aser by their kindreds:  Jemna, of whom is the family
of the Jemnaites:  Jessui, of whom is the family of the Jessuites:  Brie,
of whom is the family of the Brieites.
26:45. The sons of Brie:  Heber, of whom is the family of the Heberites:
and Melchiel, of whom is the family of the Melchielites.
26:46. And the name of the daughter of Aser, was Sara.
26:47. These are the kindreds of the sons of Aser, and their number
fifty-three thousand four hundred.
26:48. The sons of Nephtali by their kindreds:  Jesiel, of whom is the
family of the Jesielites:  Guni, of whom is the family of the Gunites:
26:49. Jeser, of whom is the family of the Jeserites:  Sellem, of whom
is the family of the Sellemites.
26:50. These are the kindreds of the sons of Nephtali by their
families:  whose number was forty-five thousand four hundred.
26:51. This is the sum of the children of Israel, that were reckoned
up, six hundred and one thousand seven hundred and thirty.
26:52. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
26:53. To these shall the land be divided for their possessions
according to the number of names.
26:54. To the greater number thou shalt give a greater portion, and to
the fewer a less:  to every one, as they have now been reckoned up,
shall a possession be delivered:
26:55. Yet so that by lot the land be divided to the tribe and
26:56. Whatsoever shall fall by lot, that shall be taken by the more,
or the fewer.
26:57. This also is the number of the sons of Levi by their families:
Gerson, of whom is the family of the Gersonites:  Caath, of whom is the
family of the Caathites:  Merari, of whom is the family of the
26:58. These are the families of Levi:  The family of Lobni, the family
of Hebroni, the family of Core.  Now Caath begot Amram:
26:59. Who had to wife Jochabed the daughter of Levi, who was born to
him in Egypt.  She bore to her husband Amram sons, Aaron and Moses, and
Mary their sister.
26:60. Of Aaron were born Nadab and Abiu, and Eleazar and Ithamar:
26:61. Of whom Nadab and Abiu died, when they had offered the strange
fire before the Lord.
26:62. And all that were numbered, were twenty-three thousand males
from one month old and upward:  for they were not reckoned up among the
children of Israel, neither was a possession given to them with the
26:63. This is the number of the children of Israel, that were enrolled
by Moses and Eleazar the priest, in the plains of Moab upon the Jordan,
over against Jericho.
26:64. Among whom there was not one of them that were numbered before
by Moses and Aaron in the desert of Sinai.
26:65. For the Lord had foretold that they should die in the
wilderness.  And none remained of them, but Caleb the son of Jephone,
and Josue the son of Nun.
Numbers Chapter 27
The law of inheritance.  Josue is appointed to succeed Moses.
27:1. Then came the daughters of Salphaad, the son of Hepher, the son
of Galaad, the son of Machir, the son of Manasses, who was the son of
Joseph:  and their names are Maala, and Noa, and Hegla, and Melcha, and
27:2. And they stood before Moses and Eleazar the priest, and all the
princes of the people at the door of the tabernacle of the covenant,
27:3. Our father died in the desert, and was not in the sedition, that
was raised against the Lord under Core, but he died in his own sin:  and
he had no male children.  Why is his name taken away out of his family,
because he had no son?  Give us a possession among the kinsmen of our
27:4. And Moses referred their cause to the judgment of the Lord.
27:5. And the Lord said to him:
27:6. The daughters of Salphaad demand a just thing:  Give them a
possession among their father's kindred, and let them succeed him in
his inheritance.
27:7. And to the children of Israel thou shalt speak these things:
27:8. When a man dieth without a son, his inheritance shall pass to his
27:9. If he have no daughter, his brethren shall succeed him.
27:10. And if he have no brethren, you shall give the inheritance to
his father's brethren.
27:11. But if he have no uncles by the father, the inheritance shall be
given to them that are the next akin.  And this shall be to the children
of Israel sacred by a perpetual law, as the Lord hath commanded Moses.
27:12. The Lord also said to Moses:  Go up into this mountain Abarim,
and view from thence the land which I will give to the children of
27:13. And when thou shalt have seen it, thou also shalt go to thy
people, as thy brother Aaron is gone:
27:14. Because you offended me in the desert of Sin in the
contradiction of the multitude, neither would you sanctify me before
them at the waters.  These are the waters of contradiction in Cades of
the desert of Sin.
27:15. And Moses answered him:
27:16. May the Lord the God of the spirits of all flesh provide a man,
that may be over this multitude:
27:17. And may go out and in before them, and may lead them out, or
bring them in:  lest the people of the Lord be as sheep without a
27:18. And the Lord said to him:  take Josue the son of Nun, a man in
whom is the Spirit, and put thy hand upon him.
27:19. And he shall stand before Eleazar the priest and all the
27:20. And thou shalt give him precepts in the sight of all, and part
of thy glory, that all the congregation of the children of Israel may
27:21. If any thing be to be done, Eleazar the priest shall consult the
Lord for him.  He and all the children of Israel with him, and the rest
of the multitude shall go out and go in at his word.
27:22. Moses did as the Lord had commanded.  And, when he had taken
Josue, he set him before Eleazar the priest, and all the assembly of
27:23. And laying his hands on his head, he repeated all things that
the Lord had commanded.
Numbers Chapter 28
Sacrifices are appointed as well for every day as for sabbaths, and
other festivals.
28:1. The Lord also said to Moses:
28:2. Command the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  Offer
ye my oblation and my bread, and burnt sacrifice of most sweet odour,
in their due seasons.
28:3. These are the sacrifices which you shall offer:  Two lambs of a
year old without blemish every day for the perpetual holocaust:
28:4. One you shall offer in the mornings, and the other in the
28:5. And the tenth part of an ephi of flour, which shall be tempered
with the, purest oil, of the measure of the fourth part of a hin.
28:6. It is the continual holocaust which you offered in mount Sinai
for a most sweet odour of a sacrifice by fire to the Lord.
28:7. And for a libation you shall offer of wine the fourth part of a
hin for every lamb in the sanctuary of the Lord.
28:8. And you shall offer the other lamb in like manner in the evening
according to all the rites of the morning sacrifice, and of the
libations thereof, an oblation of most sweet odour to the Lord.
28:9. And on the sabbath day you shall offer two lambs of a year old
without blemish, and two tenths of flour tempered with oil in
sacrifice, and the libations,
28:10. Which regularly are poured out every sabbath for the perpetual
28:11. And on the first day of the month you shall offer a holocaust to
the Lord, two calves of the herd, one ram, and seven lambs of a year
old, without blemish,
28:12. And three tenths of flour tempered with oil in sacrifice for
every calf:  and two tenths of flour tempered with oil for every ram:
28:13. And the tenth of a tenth of flour tempered with oil in sacrifice
for every lamb.  It is a holocaust of most sweet odour and an offering
by fire to the Lord.
28:14. And these shall be the libations of wine that are to be poured
out for every victim:  Half a hin for every calf, a third for a ram, and
a fourth for a lamb.  This shall be the holocaust for every month, as
they succeed one another in the course of the year.
28:15. A buck goat also shall be offered to the Lord for a sin offering
over and above the perpetual holocaust with its libations.
28:16. And in the first month, on the four tenth day of the month,
shall be the phase of the Lord,
28:17. And on the fifteenth day the solemn feast:  seven days shall they
eat unleavened bread.
28:18. And the first day of them shall be venerable and holy:  you shall
not do any servile work therein.
28:19. And you shall offer a burnt sacrifice a holocaust to the Lord,
two calves of the herd, one ram, seven lambs of a year old, without
28:20. And for the sacrifice of every one three tenths of flour which
shall be tempered with oil to every calf, and two tenths to every ram,
28:21. And the tenth of a tenth, to every lamb, that is to say, to all
the seven lambs:
28:22. And one buck goat for sin, to make atonement for you,
28:23. Besides the morning holocaust which you shall always offer.
28:24. So shall you do every day of the seven days for the food of the
fire, and for a most sweet odour to the Lord, which shall rise from the
holocaust, and from the libations of each.
28:25. The seventh day also shall be most solemn and holy unto you, you
shall do no servile work therein.
28:26. The day also of firstfruits, when after the weeks are
accomplished, you shall offer new fruits to the Lord, shall be
venerable and holy:  you shall do no servile work therein.
28:27. And you shall offer a holocaust for a most sweet odour to the
Lord, two calves of the herd, one ram, and seven lambs of a year old,
without blemish:
28:28. And in the sacrifices of them three tenths of flour tempered
with oil to every calf, two to every ram,
28:29. The tenth of a tenth to every lamb, which in all are seven
lambs:  a buck goat also,
28:30. Which is slain for expiation:  besides the perpetual holocaust
and the libations thereof.
28:31. You shall offer them all without blemish with their libations.
Numbers Chapter 29
Sacrifices for the festivals of the seventh month.
29:1. The first day also of the seventh month shall be venerable and
holy unto you; you shall do no servile work therein, because it is the
day of the sounding and of trumpets.
29:2. And you shall offer a holocaust for a most sweet odour to the
Lord, one calf of the herd, one ram and seven lambs of a year old,
without blemish.
29:3. And for their sacrifices, three tenths of flour tempered with oil
to every calf, two tenths to a ram,
29:4. One tenth to a lamb, which in all are seven lambs:
29:5. And a buck goat for sin, which is offered for the expiation of
29:6. Besides the holocaust of the first day of the month with the
sacrifices thereof, and the perpetual holocaust with the accustomed
libations.  With the same ceremonies you shall offer a burnt sacrifice
for a most sweet odour to the Lord.
29:7. The tenth day also of this seventh month shall be holy and
venerable unto you, and you shall afflict your souls; you shall do no
servile work therein.
29:8. And you shall offer a holocaust to the Lord for a most sweet
odour, one calf of the herd, one ram, and seven lambs of a year old,
without blemish:
29:9. And for their sacrifices, three tenths of flour tempered with oil
to every calf, two tenths to a ram,
29:10. The tenth of a tenth to every lamb, which are in all seven
29:11. And a buck goat for sin, besides the things that are wont to be
offered for sin, for expiation, and for the perpetual holocaust with
their sacrifice and libations.
29:12. And on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, which shall be
unto you holy and venerable, you shall do no servile work, but shall
celebrate a solemnity to the Lord seven days.
29:13. And you shall offer a holocaust for a most sweet odour to the
Lord, thirteen calves of the herd, two rams, and fourteen lambs of a
year old, without blemish:
29:14. And for their libations three tenths of flour tempered with oil
to every calf, being in all thirteen calves:  and two tenths to each
ram, being two rams,
29:15. And the tenth of a tenth to every lamb, being in all fourteen
29:16. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and
the sacrifice and the libation thereof.
29:17. On the second day you shall offer twelve calves of the herd, two
rams and fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish:
29:18. And the sacrifices and the libations for every one, for the
calves and for the rams and for the lambs you shall duly celebrate:
29:19. And a buck goat for a sin offering besides the perpetual
holocaust, and the sacrifice and the libation thereof.
29:20. The third day you shall offer eleven calves, two rams, and
fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish:
29:21. And the sacrifices and the libations of every one for the calves
and for the rams and for the lambs you shall offer according to the
29:22. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and
the sacrifice, and the libation thereof.
29:23. The fourth day you shall offer ten calves, two rams, and
fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish:
29:24. And the sacrifices and the libations of every one for the calves
and for the rams and for the lambs you shall celebrate in right manner:
29:25. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and
the sacrifice and the libation thereof.
29:26. The fifth day you shall offer nine calves, two rams, and
fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish:
29:27. And the sacrifices and the libations of every one for the calves
and for the rams and for the lambs you shall celebrate according to the
29:28. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and
the sacrifice and the libation thereof.
29:29. The sixth day you shall offer eight calves, two rams, and
fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish:
29:30. And the sacrifices and the libations of every one for the calves
and for the rams and for the lambs you shall celebrate according to the
29:31. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and
the sacrifice and the libation thereof.
29:32. The seventh day you shall offer seven calves and two rams, and
fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish:
29:33. And the sacrifices and the libations of every one for the calves
and for the rams and for the lambs you shall celebrate according to the
29:34. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and
the sacrifice and the libation thereof.
29:35. On the eighth day, which is most solemn, you shall do no servile
29:36. But you shall offer a holocaust for a most sweet odour to the
Lord, one calf, one ram, and seven lambs of a year old, without
29:37. And the sacrifices and the libations of every one for the calves
and for the rams and for the lambs you shall celebrate according to the
29:38. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and
the sacrifice and the libation thereof.
29:39. These things shall you offer to the Lord in your solemnities:
besides your vows and voluntary oblations for holocaust, for sacrifice,
for libation, and for victims of peace offerings.
Numbers Chapter 30
Of vows and oaths:  and their obligation.
30:1. And Moses told the children of Israel all that the Lord had
commanded him:
30:2. And he said to the princes of the tribes of the children of
Israel:  This is the word that the Lord hath commanded:
30:3. If any man make a vow to the Lord, or bind himself by an oath:  he
shall not make his word void but shall fulfil all that he promised.
30:4. If a woman vow any thing, and bind herself by an oath, being in
her father's house, and but yet a girl in age:  if her father knew the
vow that she hath promised, and the oath wherewith she hath bound her
soul, and held his peace, she shall be bound by the vow:
30:5. Whatsoever she promised and swore, she shall fulfil in deed.
30:6. But if her father, immediately as soon as he heard it, gainsaid
it, both her vows and her oaths shall be void, neither shall she be
bound to what she promised, because her father hath gainsaid it.
30:7. If she have a husband, and shall vow any thing, and the word once
going out of her mouth shall bind her soul by an oath,
30:8. The day that her husband shall hear it, and not gainsay it, she
shall be bound to the vow, and shall give whatsoever she promised.
30:9. But if as soon as he heareth he gainsay it, and make her promises
and the words wherewith she had bound her soul of no effect:  the Lord
will forgive her.
30:10. The widow, and she that is divorced, shall fulfil whatsoever
30:11. If the wife in the house of her husband, hath bound herself by
vow and by oath,
30:12. If her husband hear, and hold his peace, and doth not disallow
the promise, she shall accomplish whatsoever she had promised.
30:13. But if forthwith he gainsay it, she shall not be bound by the
promise:  because her husband gainsaid it, and the Lord will be merciful
30:14. If she vow and bind herself by oath, to afflict her soul by
fasting, or abstinence from other things, it shall depend on the will
of her husband, whether she shall do it, or not do it.
30:15. But if the husband hearing it hold his peace, and defer the
declaring his mind till another day:  whatsoever she had vowed and
promised, she shall fulfil:  because immediately as he heard it, he held
30:16. But if he gainsay it after that he knew it, he shall bear her
30:17. These are the laws which the Lord appointed to Moses between the
husband and the wife, between the father and the daughter that is as
yet but a girl in age, or that abideth in her father's house.
Numbers Chapter 31
The Madianites are slain for having drawn the people of Israel into
sin.  The dividing of the booty.
31:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
31:2. Revenge first the children of Israel on the Madianites, and so
thou shalt be gathered to thy people.
31:3. And Moses forthwith said:  Arm of you men to fight, who may take
the revenge of the Lord on the Madianites.
31:4. Let a thousand men be chosen out of every tribe of Israel to be
sent to the war.
31:5. And they gave a thousand of every tribe, that is to say, twelve
thousand men well appointed for battle.
31:6. And Moses sent them with Phinees the son of Eleazar the priest,
and he delivered to him the holy vessels, and the trumpets to sound.
31:7. And when they had fought against the Madianites and had overcome
them, they slew all the men.
31:8. And their kings Evi, and Recem, and Sur, and Hur, and Rebe, five
princes of the nation:  Balaam also the son of Beor they killed with the
31:9. And they took their women, and their children captives, and all
their cattle, and all their goods:  and all their possessions they
31:10. And all their cities, and their villages, and castles, they
31:11. And they carried away the booty, and all that they had taken
both of men and of beasts.
31:12. And they brought them to Moses, and Eleazar the priest, and to
all the multitude of the children of Israel.  But the rest of the things
for use they carried to the camp on the plains of Moab, beside the
Jordan over against Jericho.
31:13. And Moses and Eleazar the priest and all the princes of the
synagogue went forth to meet them without the camp.
31:14. And Moses being angry with the chief officers of the army, the
tribunes, and the centurions that were come from the battle,
31:15. Said:  Why have you saved the women?
31:16. Are not these they, that deceived the children of Israel by the
counsel of Balaam, and made you transgress against the Lord by the sin
of Phogor, for which also the people was punished?
The sin of Phogor. . .The sin committed in the worship of Beelphegor.
31:17. Therefore kill all that are of the male sex, even of the
children:  and put to death the women, that have carnally known men.
Of children. . .Women and children, ordinarily speaking, were not to be
killed in war, Deut. 20.14.  But the great Lord of life and death was
pleased to order it otherwise in the present case, in detestation of
the wickedness of this people, who by the counsel of Balaam, had sent
their women among the Israelites on purpose to draw them from God.
31:18. But the girls, and all the women that are virgins save for
31:19. And stay without the camp seven days.  He that hath killed a man,
or touched one that is killed, shall be purified the third day and the
seventh day.
31:20. And of all the spoil, every garment, or vessel, or any thing
made for use, of the skins, or hair of goats, or of wood, shall be
31:21. Eleazar also the priest spoke to the men of the army, that had
fought, in this manner:  This is the ordinance of the law, which the
Lord hath commanded Moses:
31:22. Gold, and silver, and brass, and iron, and lead, and tin,
31:23. And all that may pass through the fire, shall be purified by
fire, but whatsoever cannot abide the fire, shall be sanctified with
the water of expiation:
31:24. And you shall wash your garments the seventh day, and being
purified, you shall afterwards enter into the camp.
31:25. And the Lord said to Moses:
31:26. Take the sum of the things that were taken both of man and
beast, thou and Eleazar the priest and the princes of the multitude:
31:27. And thou shalt divide the spoil equally, between them that
fought and went out to the war, and between the rest of the multitude.
31:28. And thou shalt separate a portion to the Lord from them that
fought and were in the battle, one soul of five hundred as well of
persons as of oxen and asses and sheep.
31:29. And thou shalt give it to Eleazar the priest, because they are
the firstfruits of the Lord.
31:30. Out of the moiety also of the children of Israel thou shalt take
the fiftieth head of persons, and of oxen, and asses, and sheep, and of
all beasts, and thou shalt give them to the Levites that watch in the
charge of the tabernacle of the Lord.
31:31. And Moses and Eleazar did as the Lord had commanded.
31:32. And the spoil which the army had taken, was six hundred
seventy-five thousand sheep,
31:33. Seventy-two thousand oxen,
31:34. Sixty-one thousand asses:
31:35. And thirty-two thousand persons of the female sex, that had not
31:36. And one half was given to them that had been in the battle, to
wit, three hundred thirty-seven thousand five hundred sheep:
31:37. Out of which, for the portion of the Lord, were reckoned six
hundred seventy five sheep.
31:38. And out of the thirty-six thousand oxen, seventy-two oxen:
31:39. Out of the thirty thousand five hundred asses, sixty-one asses:
31:40. Out of the sixteen thousand persons, there fell to the portion
of the Lord, thirty-two souls.
31:41. And Moses delivered the number of the firstfruits of the Lord to
Eleazar the priest, as had been commanded him,
31:42. Out of the half of the children of Israel, which he had
separated for them that had been in the battle.
31:43. But out of the half that fell to the rest of the multitude, that
is to say, out of the three hundred thirty-seven thousand five hundred
31:44. And out of the thirty-six thousand oxen,
31:45. And out of the thirty thousand five hundred asses,
31:46. And out of the sixteen thousand persons,
31:47. Moses took the fiftieth head, and gave it to the Levites that
watched in the tabernacle of the Lord, as the Lord had commanded.
31:48. And when the commanders of the army, and the tribunes and
centurions were come to Moses, they said:
31:49. We thy servants have reckoned up the number of the fighting men,
whom we had under our hand, and not so much as one was wanting.
31:50. Therefore we offer as gifts to the Lord what gold every one of
us could find in the booty, in garters and tablets, rings and
bracelets, and chains, that thou mayst pray to the Lord for us.
31:51. And Moses and Eleazar the priest received all the gold in divers
31:52. In weight sixteen thousand seven hundred and fifty sicles, from
the tribunes and from the centurions.
31:53. For that which every one had taken in the booty was his own.
31:54. And that which was received they brought into the tabernacle of
the testimony, for a memorial of the children of Israel before the
Numbers Chapter 32
The tribes of Ruben and Gad, and half of the tribe of Manasses, receive
their inheritance on the east side of Jordan, upon conditions approved
of by Moses.
32:1. And the sons of Ruben and Gad had many flocks of cattle, and
their substance in beasts was infinite.  And when they saw the lands of
Jazer and Galaad fit for feeding cattle,
32:2. They came to Moses and Eleazar the priest, and the princes of the
multitude, and said:
32:3. Ataroth, and Dibon, and Jazer, and Nemra, Hesebon, and Eleale,
and Saban, and Nebo, and Beon,
32:4. The land, which the Lord hath conquered in the sight of the
children of Israel, is a very fertile soil for the feeding of beasts:
and we thy servants have very much cattle:
32:5. And we pray thee, if we have found favour in thy sight, that thou
give it to us thy servants in possession, and make us not pass over the
32:6. And Moses answered them:  What, shall your brethren go to fight,
and will you sit here?
32:7. Why do ye overturn the minds of the children of Israel, that they
may not dare to pass into the place which the Lord hath given them?
32:8. Was it not thus your fathers did, when I sent from Cadesbarne to
view the land?
32:9. And when they were come as far as the valley of the cluster,
having viewed all the country, they overturned the hearts of the
children of Israel, that they should not enter into the coasts, which
the Lord gave them.
32:10. And he swore in his anger, saying:
32:11. If these men, that came up out of Egypt, from twenty years old
and upward, shall see the land, which I promised with an oath to
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob:  because they would not follow me,
32:12. Except Caleb the son of Jephone the Cenezite, and Josue the son
of Nun:  these have fulfilled my will.
32:13. And the Lord being angry against Israel, led them about through
the desert forty years, until the whole generation, that had done evil
in his sight, was consumed.
32:14. And behold, said he, you are risen up instead of your fathers,
the increase and offspring of sinful men, to augment the fury of the
Lord against Israel.
32:15. For if you will not follow him, he will leave the people in the
wilderness, and you shall be the cause of the destruction of all.
32:16. But they coming near, said:  We will make sheepfolds, and stalls
for our cattle, and strong cities for our children:
32:17. And we ourselves will go armed and ready for battle before the
children of Israel, until we bring them in unto their places.  Our
little ones, and all we have, shall be in walled cities, for fear of
the ambushes of the inhabitants.
32:18. We will not return into our houses until the children of Israel
possess their inheritance:
32:19. Neither will we seek any thing beyond the Jordan, because we
have already our possession on the east side thereof,
32:20. And Moses said to them:  If you do what you promise, go on well
appointed for war before the Lord:
32:21. And let every fighting man pass over the Jordan, until the Lord
overthrow his enemies:
32:22. And all the land be brought under him, then shall you be
blameless before the Lord and before Israel, and you shall obtain the
countries that you desire, before the Lord.
32:23. But if you do not what you say, no man can doubt but you sin
against God:  and know ye, that your sin shall overtake you.
32:24. Build therefore cities for your children, and folds and stalls
for your sheep and beasts, and accomplish what you have promised.
32:25. And the children of Gad and Ruben said to Moses:  We are thy
servants, we will do what my lord commandeth.
32:26. We will leave our children, and our wives and sheep and cattle,
in the cities of Galaad:
32:27. And we thy servants all well appointed will march on to the war,
as thou, my lord, speakest.
32:28. Moses therefore commanded Eleazar the priest, and Josue the son
of Nun, and the princes of the families of all the tribes of Israel,
and said to them:
32:29. If the children of Gad, and the children of Ruben pass with you
over the Jordan, all armed for war before the Lord, and the land be
made subject to you:  give them Galaad in possession.
32:30. But if they will not pass armed with you into the land of
Chanaan, let them receive places to dwell in among you.
32:31. And the children of Gad, and the children of Ruben answered:  As
the Lord hath spoken to his servants, so will we do:
32:32. We will go armed before the Lord into the land of Chanaan, and
we confess that we have already received our possession beyond the
32:33. Moses therefore gave to the children of Gad and of Ruben, and to
the half tribe of Manasses the son of Joseph, the kingdom of Sehon king
of the Amorrhites, and the kingdom of Og king of Basan, and their land
and the cities thereof round about.
32:34. And the sons of Gad built Dibon, and Ataroth, and Aroer,
32:35. And Etroth, and Sophan, and Jazer, and Jegbaa,
32:36. And Bethnemra, and Betharan, fenced cities, and folds for their
32:37. But the children of Ruben built Hesebon, and Eleale, and
32:38. And Nabo, and Baalmeon (their names being changed) and Sabama:
giving names to the cities which they had built.
32:39. Moreover the children of Machir, the son of Manasses, went into
Galaad, and wasted it, cutting off the Amorrhites, the inhabitants
32:40. And Moses gave the land of Galaad to Machir the son of Manasses,
and he dwelt in it.
32:41. And Jair the son of Manasses went, and took the villages
thereof, and he called them Havoth Jair, that is to say, the villages
32:42. Nobe also went, and took Canath with the villages thereof:  and
he called it by his own name, Nobe.
Numbers Chapter 33
The mansions or journeys of the children of Israel towards the land of
33:1. These are the mansions of the children of Israel, who went out of
Egypt by their troops under the conduct of Moses and Aaron,
The mansions. . .These mansions, or journeys of the children of Israel
from Egypt to the land of promise, were figures, according to the
fathers, of the steps and degrees by which Christians leaving sin are
to advance from virtue to virtue, till they come to the heavenly
mansions, after this life, to see and enjoy God.
33:2. Which Moses wrote down according to the places of their
encamping, which they changed by the commandment of the Lord.
33:3. Now the children of Israel departed from Ramesses the first
month, on the fifteenth day of the first month, the day after the
phase, with a mighty hand, in the sight of all the Egyptians,
33:4. Who were burying their firstborn, whom the Lord had slain (upon
their gods also he had executed vengeance,)
33:5. And they camped in Soccoth.
33:6. And from Soccoth they came into Etham, which is in the uttermost
borders of the wilderness.
33:7. Departing from thence they came over against Phihahiroth, which
looketh towards Beelsephon, and they camped before Magdalum.
33:8. And departing from Phihahiroth, they passed through the midst of
the sea into the wilderness:  and having marched three days through the
desert of Etham, they camped in Mara.
33:9. And departing from Mara, they came into Elim, where there were
twelve fountains of waters, and seventy palm trees:  and there they
33:10. But departing from thence also, they pitched their tents by the
Red Sea.  And departing from the Red Sea,
33:11. They camped in the desert of Sin.
33:12. And they removed from thence, and came to Daphca.
33:13. And departing from Daphca, they camped in Alus.
33:14. And departing from Alus, they pitched their tents in Raphidim,
where the people wanted water to drink.
33:15. And departing from Raphidim, they camped in the desert of Sinai.
33:16. But departing also from the desert of Sinai, they came to the
graves of lust.
33:17. And departing from the graves of lust, they camped in Haseroth.
33:18. And from Haseroth they came to Rethma.
33:19. And departing from Rethma, they camped in Remmomphares.
33:20. And they departed from thence and came to Lebna.
33:21. Removing from Lebna they camped in Ressa.
33:22. And departing from Ressa, they came to Ceelatha.
33:23. And they removed from thence and camped in the mountain Sepher.
33:24. Departing from the mountain Sepher, they came to Arada,
33:25. From thence they went and camped in Maceloth.
33:26. And departing from Maceloth, they came to Thahath.
33:27. Removing from Thahath they camped in Thare.
33:28. And they departed from thence, and pitched their tents in
33:29. And removing from Methca, they camped in Hesmona.
33:30. And departing from Hesmona, they came to Moseroth.
33:31. And removing from Moseroth, they camped in Benejaacan.
33:32. And departing from Benejaacan, they came to mount Gadgad.
33:33. From thence they went and camped in Jetebatha.
33:34. And from Jetebatha they came to Hebrona.
33:35. And departing from Hebrona, they camped in Asiongaber.
33:36. They removed from thence and came into the desert of Sin, which
33:37. And departing from Cades, they camped in mount Hor, in the
uttermost borders of the land of Edom.
33:38. And Aaron the priest went up into mount Hor at the commandment
of the Lord:  and there he died in the fortieth year of the coming forth
of the children of Israel out of Egypt, the fifth month, the first day
of the month,
33:39. When he was a hundred and twenty-three years old.
33:40. And king Arad the Chanaanite, who dwelt towards the south, heard
that the children of Israel were come to the land of Chanaan.
33:41. And they departed from mount Hor, and camped in Salmona.
33:42. From whence they removed and came to Phunon.
33:43. And departing from Phunon, they camped in Oboth.
33:44. And from Oboth they came to Ijeabarim, which is in the borders
of the Moabites.
33:45. And departing from Ijeabarim they pitched their tents in
33:46. From thence they went and camped in Helmondeblathaim.
33:47. And departing from Helmondeblathaim, they came to the mountains
of Abarim over against Nabo.
33:48. And departing from the mountains of Abarim, they passed to the
plains of Moab, by the Jordan, over against Jericho.
33:49. And there they camped from Bethsimoth even to Ablesatim in the
plains of the Moabites,
33:50. Where the Lord said to Moses:
33:51. Command the children of Israel, and say to them:  When you shall
have passed over the Jordan, entering into the land of Chanaan,
33:52. Destroy all the inhabitants of that land:  Beat down their
pillars, and break in pieces their statues, and waste all their high
33:53. Cleansing the land, and dwelling in it.  For I have given it you
for a possession.
33:54. And you shall divide it among you by lot.  To the more you shall
give a larger part, and to the fewer a lesser.  To every one as the lot
shall fall, so shall the inheritance be given.  The possession shall be
divided by the tribes and the families.
33:55. But if you will not kill the inhabitants of the land:  they that
remain, shall be unto you as nails in your eyes, and spears in your
sides, and they shall be your adversaries in the land of your
33:56. And whatsoever I had thought to do to them, I will do to you.
Numbers Chapter 34
The limits of Chanaan; with the names of the men that make the division
34:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
34:2. Command the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:  When
you are entered into the land of Chanaan, and it shall be fallen into
your possession by lot, it shall be bounded by these limits:
34:3. The south side shall begin from the wilderness of Sin, which is
by Edom:  and shall have the most salt sea for its furthest limits
The most salt sea. . .The lake of Sodom, otherwise called the Dead Sea.
34:4. Which limits shall go round on the south side by the ascent of
the Scorpion and so into Senna, and reach toward the south as far as
Cadesbarne, from whence the frontiers shall go out to the town called
Adar, and shall reach as far as Asemona.
The Scorpion. . .A mountain so called from having a great number of
34:5. And the limits shall fetch a compass from Asemona to the torrent
of Egypt, and shall end in the shore of the great sea.
The great sea. . .The Mediterranean.
34:6. And the west side shall begin from the great sea, and the same
shall be the end thereof.
34:7. But toward the north side the borders shall begin from the great
sea, reaching to the most high mountain,
The most high mountain. . .Libanus.
34:8. From which they shall come to Emath, as far as the borders of
34:9. And the limits shall go as far as Zephrona, and the village of
Enan.  These shall be the borders on the north side.
34:10. From thence they shall mark out the grounds towards the east
side from the village of Enan unto Sephama.
34:11. And from Sephama the bounds shall go down to Rebla over against
the fountain of Daphnis:  from thence they shall come eastward to the
sea of Cenereth,
Sea of Cenereth. . .This is the sea of Galilee, illustrated by the
miracles of our Lord.
34:12. And shall reach as far as the Jordan, and at the last shall be
closed in by the most salt sea.  This shall be your land with its
borders round about.
34:13. And Moses commanded the children of Israel, saying:  This shall
be the land which you shall possess by lot, and which the Lord hath
commanded to be given to the nine tribes, and to the half tribe.
34:14. For the tribe of the children of Ruben by their families, and
the tribe of the children of Gad according to the number of their
kindreds, and half of the tribe of Manasses,
34:15. That is, two tribes and a half, have received their portion
beyond the Jordan over against Jericho at the east side.
34:16. And the Lord said to Moses:
34:17. These are the names of the men, that shall divide the land unto
you:  Eleazar the priest, and Josue the son of Nun,
34:18. And one prince of every tribe,
34:19. Whose names are these:  Of the tribe of Juda, Caleb the son of
34:20. Of the tribe of Simeon, Samuel the son of Ammiud.
34:21. Of the tribe of Benjamin, Elidad the son of Chaselon.
34:22. Of the tribe of the children of Dan, Bocci the son of Jogli.
34:23. Of the children of Joseph of the tribe of Manasses, Hanniel the
son of Ephod.
34:24. Of the tribe of Ephraim, Camuel the son of Sephtan.
34:25. Of the tribe of Zabulon, Elisaphan the son of Pharnach.
34:26. Of the tribe of Issachar, Phaltiel the prince, the son of Ozan.
34:27. Of the tribe of Aser, Ahiud the son of Salomi.
34:28. Of the tribe of Nephtali:  Phedael the son of Ammiud.
34:29. These are they Whom the Lord hath commanded to divide the land
of Chanaan to the children of Israel.
Numbers Chapter 35
Cities are appointed for the Levites.  Of which six are to be the cities
35:1. And the Lord spoke these things also to Moses in the plains of
Moab by the Jordan, over against Jericho:
35:2. Command the children of Israel that they give to the Levites out
of their possessions,
35:3. Cities to dwell in, and their suburbs round about:  that they may
abide in the towns, and the suburbs may be for them cattle and beasts:
35:4. Which suburbs shall reach from the walls of the cities outward, a
thousand paces on every side:
35:5. Toward the east shall be two thousand cubits:  and toward the
south in like manner shall be two thousand cubits:  toward the sea also,
which looketh to the west, shall be the same extent:  and the north side
shall be bounded with the like limits.  And the cities shall be in the
midst, and the suburbs without.
35:6. And among the cities, which you shall give to the Levites, six
shall be separated for refuge to fugitives, that he who hath shed blood
may flee to them:  and besides these there shall be other forty-two
35:7. That is, in all forty-eight with their suburbs.
35:8. And of these cities which shall be given out of the possessions
of the children of Israel, from them that have more, more shall be
taken:  and from them that have less, fewer.  Each shall give towns to
the Levites according to the extent of their inheritance.
35:9. The Lord said to Moses:
35:10. Speak to the children of Israel, and thou shalt say to them:
When you shall have passed over the Jordan into the land of Chanaan,
35:11. Determine what cities shall be for the refuge of fugitives, who
have shed blood against their will.
35:12. And when the fugitive shall be in them, the kinsman of him that
is slain may not have power to kill him, until he stand before the
multitude, and his cause be judged.
35:13. And of those cities, that are separated for the refuge of
35:14. Three shall be beyond the Jordan, and three in the land of
35:15. As well for the children of Israel as for strangers and
sojourners, that he may flee to them, who hath shed blood against his
35:16. If any man strike with iron, and he die that was struck:  he
shall be guilty of murder, and he himself shall die.
35:17. If he throw a stone, and he that is struck die:  he shall be
punished in the same manner.
35:18. If he that is struck with wood die:  he shall be revenged by the
blood of him that struck him.
35:19. The kinsman of him that was slain, shall kill the murderer:  as
soon as he apprehendeth him, he shall kill him.
35:20. If through hatred any one push a man, or fling any thing at him
with ill design:
35:21. Or being his enemy, strike him with his hand, and he die:  the
striker shall be guilty of murder:  the kinsman of him that was slain as
soon as he findeth him, shall kill him.
35:22. But if by chance medley, and without hatred,
35:23. And enmity, he do any of these things,
35:24. And this be proved in the hearing of the people, and the cause
be debated between him that struck, and the next of kin:
35:25. The innocent shall be delivered from the hand of the revenger,
and shall be brought back by sentence into the city, to which he had
fled, and he shall abide there until the death of the high priest, that
is anointed with the holy oil.
Until the death, etc. . .This mystically signified that our deliverance
was to be effected by the death of Christ, the high priest and the
anointed of God.
35:26. If the murderer be found without the limits of the cities that
are appointed for the banished,
35:27. And be struck by him that is the avenger of blood:  he shall not
be guilty that killed him.
35:28. For the fugitive ought to have stayed in the city until the
death of the high priest:  and after he is dead, then shall the
manslayer return to his own country.
35:29. These things shall be perpetual, and for an ordinance in all
your dwellings.
35:30. The murderer shall be punished by witnesses:  none shall be
condemned upon the evidence of one man.
35:31. You shall not take money of him that is guilty of blood, but he
shall die forthwith.
35:32. The banished and fugitives before the death of the high priest
may by no means return into their own cities.
35:33. Defile not the land of your habitation, which is stained with
the blood of the innocent:  neither can it otherwise be expiated, but by
his blood that hath shed the blood of another.
35:34. And thus shall your possession be cleansed, myself abiding with
you.  For I am the Lord that dwell among the children of Israel.
Numbers Chapter 36
That the inheritances may not be alienated from one tribe to another,
all are to marry within their own tribes.
36:1. And the princes of the families of Galaad, the son of Machir, the
son of Manasses, of the stock of the children of Joseph, came and spoke
to Moses before the princes of Israel, and said:
36:2. The Lord hath commanded thee, my lord, that thou shouldst divide
the land by lot to the children of Israel, and that thou shouldst give
to the daughters of Salphaad our brother the possession due to their
36:3. Now if men of another tribe take them to wives, their possession
will follow them, and being transferred to another tribe, will be a
diminishing of our inheritance.
36:4. And so it shall come to pass, that when the jubilee, the is, the
fiftieth year of remission, is come, the distribution made by the lots
shall be confounded, and the possession of the one shall pass to the
36:5. Moses answered the children of Israel, and said by the command of
the Lord:  The tribe of the children of Joseph hath spoken rightly.
36:6. And this is the law promulgated by the Lord touching the
daughters of Salphaad:  Let them marry to whom they will, only so that
it be to men of their own tribe.
36:7. Lest the possession of the children of Israel be mingled from
tribe to tribe.  For all men shall marry wives of their own tribe and
36:8. And all women shall take husbands of the same tribe:  that the
inheritance may remain in the families.
36:9. And that the tribes be not mingled one with another, but remain
36:10. As they were separated by the Lord.  And the daughters of
Salphaad did as was commanded:
36:11. And Maala, and Thersa, and Hegla, and Melcha, and Noa were
married to the sons of their uncle by their father
36:12. Of the family of Manasses, who was the son of Joseph:  and the
possession that had been allotted to them, remained in the tribe and
family of their father.
36:13. These are the commandments and judgment, which the Lord
commanded by the hand of Moses to the children of Israel, in the plains
of Moab upon the Jordan over against Jericho.
THE BOOK OF DEUTERONOMY
This Book is called DEUTERONOMY, which signifies a SECOND LAW, because
it repeats and inculcates the ordinances formerly given on mount Sinai,
with other precepts not expressed before.  The Hebrews, from the first
words in the book, call it ELLE HADDEBARIM.
Deuteronomy Chapter 1
A repetition of what passed at Sinai and Cadesbarne:  and of the
people's murmuring and their punishment.
1:1. These are the words, which Moses spoke to all Israel beyond the
Jordan, in the plain wilderness, over against the Red Sea, between
Pharan and Thophel and Laban and Haseroth, where there is very much
1:2. Eleven days' journey from Horeb by the way of mount Seir to
1:3. In the fortieth year, the eleventh month, the first day of the
month, Moses spoke to the children of Israel all that the Lord had
commanded him to say to them:
1:4. After that he had slain Sehon king of the Amorrhites, who dwelt in
Hesebon:  and Og king of Basan who abode in Astaroth, and in Edrai,
1:5. Beyond the Jordan in the land of Moab.  And Moses began to expound
the law, and to say:
1:6. The Lord our God spoke to us in Horeb, saying:  You have stayed
long enough in this mountain:
1:7. Turn you, and come to the mountain of the Amorrhites, and to the
other places that are next to it, the plains and the hills and the
vales towards the south, and by the sea shore, the land of the
Chanaanites, and of Libanus, as far as the great river Euphrates.
1:8. Behold, said he, I have delivered it to you:  go in and possess it,
concerning which the Lord swore to your fathers Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob, that he would give it to them, and to their seed after them.
1:9. And I said to you at that time:
1:10. I alone am not able to bear you:  for the Lord your God hath
multiplied you, and you are this day as the stars of heaven, for
1:11. (The Lord God of your fathers add to this number many thousands,
and bless you as he hath spoken.)
1:12. I alone am not able to bear your business, and the charge of you
and your differences.
1:13. Let me have from among you wise and understanding men, and such
whose conversation is approved among your tribes, that I may appoint
them your rulers.
1:14. Then you answered me:  The thing is good which thou meanest to do.
1:15. And I took out of your tribes men wise and honourable, and
appointed them rulers, tribunes, and centurions, and officers over
fifties, and over tens, who might teach you all things.
1:16. And I commanded them, saying:  Hear them, and judge that which is
just:  whether he be one of your country, or a stranger.
1:17. There shall be no difference of persons, you shall hear the
little as well as the great:  neither shall you respect any man's
person, because it is the judgment of God.  And if any thing seem hard
to you, refer it to me, and I will hear it.
1:18. And I commanded you all things that you were to do.
1:19. And departing from Horeb, we passed through the terrible and vast
wilderness, which you saw, by the way of the mountain of the Amorrhite,
as the Lord our God had commanded us.  And when we were come into
1:20. I said to you:  You are come to the mountain of the Amorrhite,
which the Lord our God will give to us.
1:21. See the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee:  go up and
possess it, as the Lord our God hath spoken to thy fathers:  fear not,
nor be any way discouraged.
1:22. And you came all to me, and said:  Let us send men who may view
the land, and bring us word what way we shall go up, and to what cities
we shall go.
1:23. And because the saying pleased me, I sent of you twelve men, one
of every tribe:
1:24. Who, when they had set forward and had gone up to the mountains,
came as far as the valley of the cluster:  and having viewed the land,
1:25. Taking of the fruits thereof, to shew its fertility, they brought
them to us, and said:  The land is good, which the Lord our God will
1:26. And you would not go up, but being incredulous to the word of the
Lord our God,
1:27. You murmured in your tents, and said:  The Lord hateth us, and
therefore he hath brought us out of the land of Egypt, that he might
deliver us into the hand of the Amorrhite, and destroy us.
1:28. Whither shall we go up?  the messengers have terrified our hearts,
saying:  The multitude is very great, and taller than we:  the cities are
great, and walled up to the sky, we have seen the sons of the Enacims
Walled up to the sky. . .A figurative expression, signifying the walls
to be very high.
1:29. And I said to you:  Fear not, neither be ye afraid of them:
1:30. The Lord God, who is your leader, himself will fight for you, as
he did in Egypt in the sight of all.
1:31. And in the wilderness (as thou hast seen) the Lord thy God hath
carried thee, as a man is wont to carry his little son, all the way
that you have come, until you came to this place.
1:32. And yet for all this you did not believe the Lord your God,
1:33. Who went before you in the way, and marked out the place, wherein
you should pitch your tents, in the night shewing you the way by fire,
and in the day by the pillar of a cloud.
1:34. And when the Lord had heard the voice of your words, he was angry
and swore, and said:
1:35. Not one of the men of this wicked generation shall see the good
land, which I promised with an oath to your fathers:
1:36. Except Caleb the son of Jephone:  for he shall see it, and to him
I will give the land that he hath trodden upon, and to his children,
because he hath followed the Lord.
1:37. Neither is his indignation against the people to be wondered at,
since the Lord was angry with me also on your account, and said:
Neither shalt thou go in thither.
1:38. But Josue the son of Nun, thy minister, he shall go in for thee:
exhort and encourage him, and he shall divide the land by lot to
1:39. Your children, of whom you said that they should be led away
captives, and your sons who know not this day the difference of good
and evil, they shall go in:  and to them I will give the land, and they
shall possess it.
1:40. But return you and go into the wilderness by the way of the Red
1:41. And you answered me:  We have sinned against the Lord:  we will go
up and fight, as the Lord our God hath commanded.  And when you went
ready armed unto the mountain,
1:42. The Lord said to me:  Say to them:  Go not up, and fight not, for I
am not with you:  lest you fall before your enemies.
1:43. I spoke, and you hearkened not:  but resisting the commandment of
the Lord, and swelling with pride, you went up into the mountain.
1:44. And the Amorrhite that dwelt in the mountains coming out, and
meeting you, chased you, as bees do:  and made slaughter of you from
Seir as far as Horma.
1:45. And when you returned and wept before the Lord, he heard you not,
neither would he yield to your voice.
1:46. So you abode in Cadesbarne a long time.
Deuteronomy Chapter 2
They are forbid to fight against the Edomites, Moabites, and Ammonites.
Their victory over Sehon king of Hesebon.
2:1. And departing from thence we came into the wilderness that leadeth
to the Red Sea, as the Lord had spoken to me:  and we compassed mount
Seir a long time.
2:2. And the Lord said to me:
2:3. You have compassed this mountain long enough:  go toward the north:
2:4. And command thou the people, saying:  You shall pass by the borders
of your brethren the children of Esau, who dwell in Seir, and they will
be afraid of you.
2:5. Take ye then good heed that you stir not against them.  For I will
not give you of their land so much as the step of one foot can tread
upon, because I have given mount Seir to Esau, for a possession.
2:6. You shall buy meats of them for money and shall eat:  you shall
draw waters for money, and shall drink.
2:7. The Lord thy God hath blessed thee in every work of thy hands:  the
Lord thy God dwelling with thee, knoweth thy journey, how thou hast
passed through this great wilderness, for forty years, and thou hast
wanted nothing.
2:8. And when we had passed by our brethren the children of Esau, that
dwelt in Seir, by the way of the plain from Elath and from Asiongaber,
we came to the way that leadeth to the desert of Moab.
2:9. And the Lord said to me:  Fight not against the Moabites, neither
go to battle against them:  for I will not give thee any of their land,
because I have given Ar to the children of Lot in possession.
2:10. The Emims first were the inhabitants thereof, a people great, and
strong, and so tall, that like the race of the Enacims,
2:11. They were esteemed as giants, and were like the sons of the
Enacims.  But the Moabites call them Emims.
2:12. The Horrhites also formerly dwelt in Seir:  who being driven out
and destroyed, the children of Esau dwelt there, as Israel did in the
land of his possession, which the Lord gave him.
2:13. Then rising up to pass the torrent Zared, we came to it.
2:14. And the time that we journeyed from Cadesbarne till we passed
over the torrent Zared, was thirty-eight years:  until all the
generation of the men that were fit for war was consumed out of the
camp, as the Lord had sworn:
2:15. For his hand was against them, that they should perish from the
midst of the camp.
2:16. And after all the fighting men were dead,
2:17. The Lord spoke to me, saying:
2:18. Thou shalt pass this day the borders of Moab, the city named Ar:
2:19. And when thou comest nigh the frontiers of the children of Ammon,
take heed thou fight not against them, nor once move to battle:  for I
will not give thee of the land of the children of Ammon, because I have
given it to the children of Lot for a possession.
2:20. It was accounted a land of giants:  and giants formerly dwelt in
it, whom the Ammonites call Zomzommims,
2:21. A people great and many, and of tall stature, like the Enacims
whom the Lord destroyed before their face:  and he made them to dwell in
their stead,
2:22. As he had done in favour of the children of Esau, that dwell in
Seir, destroying the Horrhites, and delivering their land to them,
which they possess to this day.
2:23. The Hevites also, that dwelt in Haserim as far as Gaza, were
expelled by the Cappadocians:  who came out of Cappadocia, and destroyed
them and dwelt in their stead.
2:24. Arise ye, and pass the torrent Arnon:  Behold I have delivered
into thy hand Sehon king of Hesebon the Amorrhite, and begin thou to
possess his land and make war against him.
2:25. This day will I begin to send the dread and fear of thee upon the
nations that dwell under the whole heaven:  that when they hear thy name
they may fear and tremble, and be in pain like women in travail.
2:26. So I sent messengers from the wilderness of Cademoth to Sehon the
king of Hesebon with peaceable words, saying:
2:27. We will pass through thy land, we will go along by the highway:
we will not turn aside neither to the right hand nor to the left.
2:28. Sell us meat for money, that we may eat:  give us water for money
and so we will drink.  We only ask that thou wilt let us pass through,
2:29. As the children of Esau have done, that dwell in Seir, and the
Moabites, that abide in Ar:  until we come to the Jordan, and pass to
the land which the Lord our God will give us.
2:30. And Sehon the king of Hesebon would not let us pass:  because the
Lord thy God had hardened his spirit, and fixed his heart, that he
might be delivered into thy hands, as now thou seest.
Hardened, etc. . .That is, in punishment of his past sins he left him to
his own stubborn and perverse disposition, which drew him to his ruin.
See the note on Ex. 7.3.
2:31. And the Lord said to me:  Behold I have begun to deliver unto thee
Sehon and his land, begin to possess it.
2:32. And Sehon came out to meet us with all his people to fight at
2:33. And the Lord our God delivered him to us:  and we slew him with
his sons and all his people.
2:34. And we took all his cities at that time, killing the inhabitants
of them, men and women and children.  We left nothing of them:
2:35. Except the cattle which came to the share of them that took them:
and the spoils of the cities, which we took:
2:36. From Aroer, which is upon the bank of the torrent Arnon, a town
that is situate in a valley, as far as Galaad.  There was not a village
or city, that escaped our hands:  the Lord our God delivered all unto
2:37. Except the land of the children of Ammon, to which we approached
not:  and all that border upon the torrent Jeboc, and the cities in the
mountains, and all the places which the Lord our God forbade us.
Deuteronomy Chapter 3
The victory over Og king of Basan.  Ruben, Gad, and half the tribe of
Manasses receive their possession on the other side of Jordan.
3:1. Then we turned and went by the way of Basan:  and Og the king of
Basan came out to meet us with his people to fight in Edrai.
3:2. And the Lord said to me:  Fear him not:  because he is delivered
into thy hand, with all his people and his land:  and thou shalt do to
him as thou hast done to Sehon king of the Amorrhites, that dwelt in
3:3. So the Lord our God delivered into our hands, Og also, the king of
Basan, and all his people:  and we utterly destroyed them,
3:4. Wasting all his cities at one time, there was not a town that
escaped us:  sixty cities, all the country of Argob the kingdom of Og in
3:5. All the cities were fenced with very high walls, and with gates
and bars, besides innumerable towns that had no walls.
3:6. And we utterly destroyed them, as we had done to Sehon the king of
Hesebon, destroying every city, men and women and children:
3:7. But the cattle and the spoils of the cities we took for our prey.
3:8. And we took at that time the land out of the hand of the two kings
of the Amorrhites, that were beyond the Jordan:  from the torrent Arnon
unto the mount Hermon,
3:9. Which the Sidonians call Sarion, and the Amorrhites Sanir:
3:10. All the cities that are situate in the plain, and all the land of
Galaad and Basan as far as Selcha and Edrai, cities of the kingdom of
Og in Basan.
3:11. For only Og king of Basan remained of the race of the giants.  His
bed of iron is shewn, which is in Rabbath of the children of Ammon,
being nine cubits long, and four broad after the measure of the cubit
of a man's hand.
3:12. And we possessed the land at that time from Aroer, which is upon
the bank of the torrent Arnon, unto the half of mount Galaad:  and I
gave the cities thereof to Ruben and Gad.
3:13. And I delivered the other part of Galaad, and all Basan the
kingdom of Og to the half tribe of Manasses, all the country of Argob:
and all Basan is called the Land of giants.
3:14. Jair the son of Manasses possessed all the country of Argob unto
the borders of Gessuri, and Machati.  And he called Basan by his own
name, Havoth Jair, that is to say, the towns of Jair, until this
present day.
3:15. To Machir also I gave Galaad.
3:16. And to the tribes of Ruben and Gad I gave of the land of Galaad
as far as the torrent Arnon, half the torrent, and the confines even
unto the torrent Jeboc, which is the border of the children of Ammon:
3:17. And the plain of the wilderness, and the Jordan, and the borders
of Cenereth unto the sea of the desert, which is the most salt sea, to
the foot of mount Phasga eastward.
3:18. And I commanded you at that time, saying:  The Lord your God
giveth you this land for an inheritance, go ye well appointed before
your brethren the children of Israel, all the strong men of you.
3:19. Leaving your wives and children and cattle.  For I know you have
much cattle, and they must remain in the cities, which I have delivered
3:20. Until the Lord give rest to your brethren, as he hath given to
you:  and they also possess the land, which he will give them beyond the
Jordan:  then shall every man return to his possession, which I have
3:21. I commanded Josue also at that time, saying:  Thy eyes have seen
what the Lord your God hath done to these two kings:  so will he do to
all the kingdoms to which thou shalt pass.
3:22. Fear them not:  for the Lord your God will fight for you.
3:23. And I besought the Lord at that time, saying:
3:24. Lord God, thou hast begun to shew unto thy servant thy greatness,
and most mighty hand, for there is no other God either in heaven or
earth, that is able to do thy works, or to be compared to thy strength.
3:25. I will pass over therefore, and will see this excellent land
beyond the Jordan, and this goodly mountain, and Libanus.
3:26. And the Lord was angry with me on your account and heard me not,
but said to me:  It is enough:  speak no more to me of this matter.
3:27. Go up to the top of Phasga, and cast thy eyes round about to the
west, and to the north, and to the south, and to the east, and behold
it, for thou shalt not pass this Jordan.
3:28. Command Josue, and encourage and strengthen him:  for he shall go
before this people, and shall divide unto them the land which thou
3:29. And we abode in the valley over against the temple of Phogor.
Deuteronomy Chapter 4
Moses exhorteth the people to keep God's commandments:  particularly to
fly idolatry.  Appointeth three cities of refuge, on that side of the
4:1. And now, O Israel, hear the commandments and judgments which I
teach thee:  that doing them, thou mayst live, and entering in mayst
possess the land which the Lord the God of your fathers will give you.
4:2. You shall not add to the word that I speak to you, neither shall
you take away from it:  keep the commandments of the Lord your God which
I command you.
4:3. Your eyes have seen all that the Lord hath done against
Beelphegor, how he hath destroyed all his worshippers from among you.
4:4. But you that adhere to the Lord your God, are all alive until this
present day.
4:5. You know that I have taught you statutes and justices, as the Lord
my God hath commanded me:  so shall you do them in the land which you
shall possess:
4:6. And you shall observe, and fulfil them in practice.  For this is
your wisdom, and understanding in the sight of nations, that hearing
all these precepts, they may say:  Behold a wise and understanding
people, a great nation.
4:7. Neither is there any other nation so great, that hath gods so nigh
them, as our God is present to all our petitions.
4:8. For what other nation is there so renowned that hath ceremonies,
and just judgments, and all the law, which I will set forth this day
before our eyes?
4:9. Keep thyself therefore, and thy soul carefully.  Forget not the
words that thy eyes have seen, and let them not go out of thy heart all
the days of thy life.  Thou shalt teach them to thy sons and to thy
4:10. From the day in which thou didst stand before the Lord thy God in
Horeb, when the Lord spoke to me, saying:  Call together the people unto
me, that they may hear my words, and may learn to fear me all the time
that they live on the earth, and may teach their children.
4:11. And you came to the foot of the mount, which burned even unto
heaven:  and there was darkness, and a cloud and obscurity in it.
4:12. And the Lord spoke to you from the midst of the fire.  You heard
the voice of his words, but you saw not any form at all.
4:13. And he shewed you his covenant, which he commanded you to do, and
the ten words that he wrote in two tables of stone.
4:14. And he commanded me at that time that I should teach you the
ceremonies and judgments which you shall do in the land, that you shall
4:15. Keep therefore your souls carefully.  You saw not any similitude
in the day that the Lord God spoke to you in Horeb from the midst of
4:16. Lest perhaps being deceived you might make you a graven
similitude, or image of male or female,
4:17. The similitude of any beasts, that are upon the earth, or of
birds, that fly under heaven,
4:18. Or of creeping things, that move on the earth, or of fishes, that
abide in the waters under the earth:
4:19. Lest perhaps lifting up thy eyes to heaven, thou see the sun and
the moon, and all the stars of heaven, and being deceived by error thou
adore and serve them, which the Lord thy God created for the service of
all the nations, that are under heaven.
4:20. But the Lord hath taken you and brought you out of the iron
furnaces of Egypt, to make you his people of inheritance, as it is this
present day.
4:21. And the Lord was angry with me for your words, and he swore that
I should not pass over the Jordan, nor enter into the excellent land,
which he will give you.
4:22. Behold I die in this land, I shall not pass over the Jordan:  you
shall pass, and possess the goodly land.
4:23. Beware lest thou ever forget the covenant of the Lord thy God,
which he hath made with thee:  and make to thyself a graven likeness of
those things which the Lord hath forbid to be made:
4:24. Because the Lord thy God is a consuming fire, a jealous God.
4:25. If you shall beget sons and grandsons, and abide in the land, and
being deceived, make to yourselves any similitude, committing evil
before the Lord your God, to provoke him to wrath:
4:26. I call this day heaven and earth to witness, that you shall
quickly perish out of the land, which, when you have passed over the
Jordan, you shall possess.  You shall not dwell therein long, but the
Lord will destroy you,
4:27. And scatter you among all nations, and you shall remain a few
among the nations, to which the Lord shall lead you.
4:28. And there you shall serve gods, that were framed with men's
hands:  wood and stone, that neither see, nor hear, nor eat, nor smell.
4:29. And when thou shalt seek there the Lord thy God, thou shalt find
him:  yet so, if thou seek him with all thy heart, and all the
affliction of thy soul.
4:30. After all the things aforesaid shall find thee, in the latter
time thou shalt return to the Lord thy God, and shalt hear his voice.
4:31. Because the Lord thy God is a merciful God:  he will not leave
thee, nor altogether destroy thee, nor forget the covenant, by which he
swore to thy fathers.
4:32. Ask of the days of old, that have been before thy time from the
day that God created man upon the earth, from one end of heaven to the
other end thereof, if ever there was done the like thing, or it hath
been known at any time,
4:33. That a people should hear the voice of God speaking out of the
midst of fire, as thou hast heard, and lived:
4:34. If God ever did so as to go, and take to himself a nation out of
the midst of nations by temptations, signs, and wonders, by fight, and
a strong hand, and stretched out arm, and horrible visions according to
all the things that the Lord your God did for you in Egypt, before thy
4:35. That thou mightest know that the Lord he is God, and there is no
other besides him.
4:36. From heaven he made thee to hear his voice, that he might teach
thee.  And upon earth he shewed thee his exceeding great fire, and thou
didst hear his words out of the midst of the fire,
4:37. Because he loved thy fathers, and chose their seed after them.
And he brought thee out of Egypt, going before thee with his great
4:38. To destroy at thy coming very great nations, and stronger than
thou art, and to bring thee in, and give thee their land for a
possession, as thou seest at this present day.
4:39. Know therefore this day, and think in thy heart that the Lord he
is God in heaven above, and in the earth beneath, and there is no
4:40. Keep his precepts and commandments, which I command thee:  that it
may be well with thee, and thy children after thee, and thou mayst
remain a long time upon the land, which the Lord thy God will give
4:41. Then Moses set aside three cities beyond the Jordan at the east
4:42. That any one might flee to them who should kill his neighbour
unwillingly, and was not his enemy a day or two before, and that he
might escape to some one of these cities:
4:43. Bosor in the wilderness, which is situate in the plains of the
tribe of Ruben:  and Ramoth in Galaad, which is in the tribe of Gad:  and
Golan in Basan, which is in the tribe of Manasses.
4:44. This is the law, that Moses set before the children of Israel,
4:45. And these are the testimonies and ceremonies and judgments, which
he spoke to the children of Israel, when they came out of Egypt,
4:46. Beyond the Jordan in the valley over against the temple of
Phogor, in the land of Sehon king of the Amorrhites, that dwelt in
Hesebon, whom Moses slew.  And the children of Israel coming out of
4:47. Possessed his land, and the land of Og king of Basan, of the two
kings of the Amorrhites, who were beyond the Jordan towards the rising
4:48. From Aroer, which is situate upon the bank of the torrent Arnon,
unto mount Sion, which is also called Hermon,
4:49. All the plain beyond the Jordan at the east side, unto the sea of
the wilderness, and unto the foot of mount Phasga.
Deuteronomy Chapter 5
The ten commandments are repeated and explained.
5:1. And Moses called all Israel, and said to them:  Hear, O Israel, the
ceremonies and judgments, which I speak in your ears this day:  learn
them, and fulfil them in work.
5:2. The Lord our God made a covenant with us in Horeb.
5:3. He made not the covenant with our fathers, but with us, who are
now present and living.
5:4. He spoke to us face to face in the mount out of the midst of fire.
5:5. I was the mediator and stood between the Lord and you at that
time, to shew you his words, for you feared the fire, and went not up
into the mountain, and he said:
5:6. I am the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt,
out of the house of bondage.
5:7. Thou shalt not have strange gods in my sight.
5:8. Thou shalt not make to thy self a graven thing, nor the likeness
of any things, that are in heaven above, or that are in the earth
beneath, or that abide in the waters under the earth.
5:9. Thou shalt not adore them, and thou shalt not serve them.  For I am
the Lord thy God, a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers
upon their children unto the third and fourth generation, to them that
5:10. And shewing mercy unto many thousands, to them that love me, and
keep my commandments.
5:11. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain:  for he
shall not be unpunished that taketh his name upon a vain thing.
5:12. Observe the day of the sabbath, to sanctify it, as the Lord thy
God hath commanded thee.
5:13. Six days shalt thou labour, and shalt do all thy works.
5:14. The seventh is the day of the sabbath, that is, the rest of the
Lord thy God.  Thou shalt not do any work therein, thou nor thy son nor
thy daughter, nor thy manservant nor thy maidservant, nor thy ox, nor
thy ass, nor any of thy beasts, nor the stranger that is within thy
gates:  that thy manservant and thy maidservant may rest, even as
5:15. Remember that thou also didst serve in Egypt, and the Lord thy
God brought thee out from thence with a strong hand, and a stretched
out arm.  Therefore hath he commanded thee that thou shouldst observe
the sabbath day.
5:16. Honour thy father and mother, as the Lord thy God hath commanded
thee, that thou mayst live a long time, and it may be well with thee in
the land, which the Lord thy God will give thee.
5:17. Thou shalt not kill.
5:18. Neither shalt thou commit adultery.
5:19. And thou shalt not steal.
5:20. Neither shalt thou bear false witness against thy neighbour.
5:21. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife:  nor his house, nor his
field, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his
ass, nor any thing that is his.
5:22. These words the Lord spoke to all the multitude of you in the
mountain, out of the midst of the fire and the cloud, and the darkness,
with a loud voice, adding nothing more:  and he wrote them in two tables
of stone, which he delivered unto me.
5:23. But you, after you heard the voice out of the midst of the
darkness, and saw the mountain burn, came to me, all the princes of the
tribes and the elders, and you said:
5:24. Behold the Lord our God hath shewn us his majesty and his
greatness, we have heard his voice out of the midst of the fire, and
have proved this day that God speaking with man, man hath lived.
5:25. Why shall we die therefore, and why shall this exceeding great
fire comsume us:  for if we hear the voice of the Lord our God any more,
we shall die.
5:26. What is all flesh, that it should hear the voice of the living
God, who speaketh out of the midst of the fire, as we have heard, and
be able to live?
5:27. Approach thou rather:  and hear all things that the Lord our God
shall say to thee, and thou shalt speak to us, and we will hear and
will do them.
5:28. And when the Lord had heard this, he said to me:  I have heard the
voice of the words of this people, which they spoke to thee:  they have
spoken all things well.
5:29. Who shall give them to have such a mind, to fear me, and to keep
all my commandments at all times, that it may be well with them and
with their children for ever?
5:30. Go and say to them:  Return into your tents.
5:31. But stand thou here with me, and I will speak to thee all my
commandments, and ceremonies and judgments:  which thou shalt teach
them, that they may do them in the land, which I will give them for a
5:32. Keep therefore and do the things which the Lord God hath
commanded you:  you shall not go aside neither to the right hand, nor to
5:33. But you shall walk in the way that the Lord your God hath
commanded, that you may live, and it may be well with you, and your
days may be long in the land of your possession.
Deuteronomy Chapter 6
An exhortation to the love of God, and obedience to his law.
6:1. These are the precepts, and ceremonies, and judgments, which the
Lord your God commanded that I should teach you, and that you should do
them in the land into which you pass over to possess it:
6:2. That thou mayst fear the Lord thy God, and keep all his
commandments and precepts, which I command thee, and thy sons, and thy
grandsons, all the days of thy life, that thy days may be prolonged.
6:3. Hear, O Israel, and observe to do the things which the Lord hath
commanded thee, that it may be well with thee, and thou mayst be
greatly multiplied, as the Lord the God of thy fathers hath promised
thee a land flowing with milk and honey.
6:4. Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord.
6:5. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with
thy whole soul, and with thy whole strength.
6:6. And these words which I command thee this day, shall be in thy
6:7. And thou shalt tell them to thy children, and thou shalt meditate
upon them sitting in thy house, and walking on thy journey, sleeping
6:8. And thou shalt bind them as a sign on thy hand, and they shall be
and shall move between thy eyes.
6:9. And thou shalt write them in the entry, and on the doors of thy
6:10. And when the Lord thy God shall have brought thee into the land,
for which he swore to thy fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob:  and shall
have given thee great and goodly cities, which thou didst not build,
6:11. Houses full of riches, which thou didst not set up, cisterns
which thou didst not dig, vineyards and oliveyards, which thou didst
6:12. And thou shalt have eaten and be full:
6:13. Take heed diligently lest thou forget the Lord, who brought thee
out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.  Thou shalt fear
the Lord thy God, and shalt serve him only, and thou shalt swear by his
6:14. You shall not go after the strange gods of all the nations, that
are round about you:
6:15. Because the Lord thy God is a jealous God in the midst of thee:
lest at any time the wrath of the Lord thy God be kindled against thee,
and take thee away from the face of the earth.
6:16. Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God, as thou temptedst him in
the place of temptation.
6:17. Keep the precepts of the Lord thy God, and the testimonies and
ceremonies which he hath commanded thee.
6:18. And do that which is pleasing and good in the sight of the Lord,
that it may be well with thee:  and going in thou mayst possess the
goodly land, concerning which the Lord swore to thy fathers,
6:19. That he would destroy all thy enemies before thee, as he hath
6:20. And when thy son shall ask thee to morrow, saying:  What mean
these testimonies, and ceremonies and judgments, which the Lord our God
hath commanded us?
6:21. Thou shalt say to him:  We were bondmen of Pharao in Egypt, and
the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand.
6:22. And he wrought signs and wonders great and very grievous in Egypt
against Pharao, and all his house, in our sight,
6:23. And he brought us out from thence, that he might bring us in and
give us the land, concerning which he swore to our fathers.
6:24. And the Lord commanded that we should do all these ordinances,
and should fear the Lord our God, that it might be well with us all the
days of our life, as it is at this day.
6:25. And he will be merciful to us, if we keep and do all his precepts
before the Lord our God, as he hath commanded us.
Deuteronomy Chapter 7
No league nor fellowship to be made with the Chanaanites:  God promiseth
his people his blessing and assistance, if they keep his commandments.
7:1. When the Lord thy God shall have brought thee into the land, which
thou art going in to possess, and shall have destroyed many nations
before thee, the Hethite, and the Gergezite, and the Amorrhite, and the
Chanaanite, and the Pherezite, and the Hevite, and the Jebusite, seven
nations much more numerous than thou art, and stronger than thou:
7:2. And the Lord thy God shall have delivered them to thee, thou shalt
utterly destroy them.  Thou shalt make no league with them, nor shew
mercy to them:
7:3. Neither shalt thou make marriages with them.  Thou shalt not give
thy daughter to his son, nor take his daughter for thy son:
7:4. For she will turn away thy son from following me, that he may
rather serve strange gods, and the wrath of the Lord will be kindled,
and will quickly destroy thee.
7:5. But thus rather shall you deal with them:  Destroy their altars,
and break their statues, and cut down their groves, and burn their
graven things.
7:6. Because thou art a holy people to the Lord thy God.  The Lord thy
God hath chosen thee, to be his peculiar people of all peoples that are
upon the earth.
7:7. Not because you surpass all nations in number, is the Lord joined
unto you, and hath chosen you, for you are the fewest of any people:
7:8. But because the Lord hath loved you, and hath kept his oath, which
he swore to your fathers:  and hath brought you out with a strong hand,
and redeemed you from the house of bondage, out of the hand of Pharao
the king of Egypt.
7:9. And thou shalt know that the Lord thy God, he is a strong and
faithful God, keeping his covenant and mercy to them that love him, and
to them that keep his commandments, unto a thousand generations:
7:10. And repaying forthwith them that hate him, so as to destroy them,
without further delay immediately rendering to them what they deserve.
7:11. Keep therefore the precepts and ceremonies and judgments, which I
command thee this day to do.
7:12. If after thou hast heard these judgments, thou keep and do them,
the Lord thy God will also keep his covenant to thee, and the mercy
which he swore to thy fathers:
7:13. And he will love thee and multiply thee, and will bless the fruit
of thy womb, and the fruit of thy land, thy corn, and thy vintage, thy
oil, and thy herds, and the flocks of thy sheep upon the land, for
which he swore to thy fathers that he would give it thee.
7:14. Blessed shalt thou be among all people.  No one shall be barren
among you of either sex, neither of men nor cattle.
7:15. The Lord will take away from thee all sickness:  and the grievous
infirmities of Egypt, which thou knowest, he will not bring upon thee,
but upon thy enemies.
7:16. Thou shalt consume all the people, which the Lord thy God will
deliver to thee.  Thy eye shall not spare them, neither shalt thou serve
their gods, lest they be thy ruin.
7:17. If thou say in thy heart:  These nations are more than I, how
shall I be able to destroy them?
7:18. Fear not, but remember what the Lord thy God did to Pharao and to
all the Egyptians,
7:19. The exceeding great plagues, which thy eyes saw, and the signs
and wonders, and the strong hand, and the stretched out arm, with which
the Lord thy God brought thee out:  so will he do to all the people,
whom thou fearest.
7:20. Moreover the Lord thy God will send also hornets among them,
until he destroy and consume all that have escaped thee, and could hide
7:21. Thou shalt not fear them, because the Lord thy God is in the
midst of thee, a God mighty and terrible:
7:22. He will consume these nations in thy sight by little and little
and by degrees.  Thou wilt not be able to destroy them altogether:  lest
perhaps the beasts of the earth should increase upon thee.
7:23. But the Lord thy God shall deliver them in thy sight:  and shall
slay them until they be utterly destroyed.
7:24. And he shall deliver their kings into thy hands, and thou shalt
destroy their names from under Heaven:  no man shall be able to resist
thee, until thou destroy them.
7:25. Their graven things thou shalt burn with fire:  thou shalt not
covet the silver and gold of which they are made, neither shalt thou
take to thee any thing thereof, lest thou offend, because it is an
abomination to the Lord thy God.
Graven things. . .Idols, so called by contempt.
7:26. Neither shalt thou bring any thing of the idol into thy house,
lest thou become an anathema, like it.  Thou shalt detest it as dung,
and shalt utterly abhor it as uncleanness and filth, because it is an
Deuteronomy Chapter 8
The people is put in mind of God's dealings with them, to the end that
they may love him and serve him.
8:1. All the commandments, that I command thee this day, take great
care to observe:  that you may live, and be multiplied, and going in may
possess the land, for which the Lord swore to your fathers.
8:2. And thou shalt remember all the way through which the Lord thy God
hath brought thee for forty years through the desert, to afflict thee
and to prove thee, and that the things that were known in thy heart
might be made known, whether thou wouldst keep his commandments or no.
8:3. He afflicted thee with want, and gave thee manna for thy food,
which neither thou nor thy fathers knew:  to shew that not in bread
alone doth man live, but in every word that proceedeth from the mouth
Not in bread alone, etc. . .That is, that God is able to make food of
what he pleases for the support of man.
8:4. Thy raiment, with which thou wast covered, hath not decayed for
age, and thy foot is not worn, lo this is the fortieth year,
8:5. That thou mayst consider in thy heart, that as a man traineth up
his son, so the Lord thy God hath trained thee up.
8:6. That thou shouldst keep the commandments of the Lord thy God, and
walk in his ways, and fear him.
8:7. For the Lord thy God will bring thee into a good land, of brooks
and of waters, and of fountains:  in the plains of which and the hills
deep rivers break out:
8:8. A land of wheat, and barley, and vineyards, wherein fig trees and
pomegranates, and oliveyards grow:  a land of oil and honey.
8:9. Where without any want thou shalt eat thy bread, and enjoy
abundance of all things:  where the stones are iron, and out of its
hills are dug mines of brass:
8:10. That when thou hast eaten, and art full, thou mayst bless the
Lord thy God for the excellent land which he hath given thee.
8:11. Take heed, and beware lest at any time thou forget the Lord thy
God, and neglect his commandments and judgments and ceremonies, which I
command thee this day:
8:12. Lest after thou hast eaten and art filled, hast built goodly
houses, and dwelt in them,
8:13. And shalt have herds of oxen and flocks of sheep, and plenty of
gold and of silver, and of all things,
8:14. Thy heart be lifted up, and thou remember not the Lord thy God,
who brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage:
8:15. And was thy leader in the great and terrible wilderness, wherein
there was the serpent burning with his breath, and the scorpion and the
dipsas, and no waters at all:  who brought forth streams out of the
hardest rock,
The Dipsas. . .A serpent whose bite causeth a violent thirst; from
whence it has its name, for in Greek dipsa signifies thirst.
8:16. And fed thee in the wilderness with manna which thy fathers knew
not.  And after he had afflicted and proved thee, at the last he had
mercy on thee,
8:17. Lest thou shouldst say in thy heart:  My own might, and the
strength of my own hand have achieved all these things for me.
8:18. But remember the Lord thy God, that he hath given thee strength,
that he might fulfil his covenant, concerning which he swore to thy
fathers, as this present day sheweth.
8:19. But if thou forget the Lord thy God, and follow strange gods, and
serve and adore them:  behold now I foretell thee that thou shalt
utterly perish.
8:20. As the nations, which the Lord destroyed at thy entrance, so
shall you also perish, if you be disobedient to the voice of the Lord
Deuteronomy Chapter 9
Lest they should impute their victories to their own merits, they are
put in mind of their manifold rebellions and other sins, for which they
should have been destroyed, but God spared them for his promise made to
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
9:1. Hear, O Israel:  Thou shalt go over the Jordan this day; to possess
nations very great, and stronger than thyself, cities great, and walled
up to the sky,
9:2. A people great and tall, the sons of the Enacims, whom thou hast
seen, and heard of, against whom no man is able to stand.
9:3. Thou shalt know therefore this day that the Lord thy God himself
will pass over before thee, a devouring and consuming fire, to destroy
and extirpate and bring them to nothing before thy face quickly, as he
hath spoken to thee.
9:4. Say not in thy heart, when the Lord thy God shall have destroyed
them in thy sight:  For my justice hath the Lord brought me in to
possess this land, whereas these nations are destroyed for their
9:5. For it is not for thy justices, and the uprightness of thy heart
that thou shalt go in to possess their lands:  but because they have
done wickedly, they are destroyed at thy coming in:  and that the Lord
might accomplish his word, which he promised by oath to thy fathers
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
9:6. Know therefore that the Lord thy God giveth thee not this
excellent land in possession for thy justices, for thou art a very
stiffnecked people.
9:7. Remember, and forget not how thou provokedst the Lord thy God to
wrath in the wilderness.  From the day that thou camest out of Egypt
unto this place, thou hast always strove against the Lord.
9:8. For in Horeb, also thou didst provoke him, and he was angry, and
would have destroyed thee,
9:9. When I went up into the mount to receive the tables of stone, the
tables of the covenant which the Lord made with you:  and I continued in
the mount forty days and nights, neither eating bread, nor drinking
9:10. And the Lord gave me two tables of stone written with the finger
of God, and containing all the words that he spoke to you in the mount
from the midst of the fire, when the people were assembled together.
9:11. And when forty days were passed, and as many nights, the Lord
gave me the two tables of stone, the tables of the covenant,
9:12. And said to me:  Arise, and go down from hence quickly:  for thy
people, which thou hast brought out of Egypt, have quickly forsaken the
way that thou hast shewn them, and have made to themselves a molten
9:13. And again the Lord said to me:  I see that this people is
stiffnecked:
9:14. Let me alone that I may destroy them, and abolish their name from
under heaven, and set thee over a nation, that is greater and stronger
9:15. And when I came down from the burning mount, and held the two
tables of the covenant with both hands,
9:16. And saw that you had sinned against the Lord your God, and had
made to yourselves a molten calf, and had quickly forsaken his way,
which he had shewn you:
9:17. I cast the tables out of my hands, and broke them in your sight.
9:18. And I fell down before the Lord as before, forty days and nights
neither eating bread, nor drinking water, for all your sins, which you
had committed against the Lord, and had provoked him to wrath:
9:19. For I feared his indignation and anger, wherewith being moved
against you, he would have destroyed you.  And the Lord heard me this
9:20. And he was exceeding angry against Aaron also, and would have
destroyed him, and I prayed in like manner for him.
9:21. And your sin that you had committed, that is, the calf, I took,
and burned it with fire, and breaking it into pieces, until it was as
small as dust, I threw it into the torrent, which cometh down from the
9:22. At the burning also, and at the place of temptation, and at the
graves of lust you provoked the Lord:
9:23. And when he sent you from Cadesbarne, saying:  Go up, and possess
the land that I have given you, and you slighted the commandment of the
Lord your God, and did not believe him, neither would you hearken to
9:24. But were always rebellious from the day that I began to know you.
9:25. And I lay prostrate before the Lord forty days and nights, in
which I humbly besought him, that he would not destroy you as he had
9:26. And praying, I said:  O Lord God, destroy not thy people, and thy
inheritance, which thou hast redeemed in thy greatness, whom thou hast
brought out of Egypt with a strong hand.
9:27. Remember thy servants Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob:  look not on the
stubbornness of this people, nor on their wickedness and sin:
9:28. Lest perhaps the inhabitants of the land, out of which thou hast
brought us, say:  The Lord could not bring them into the land that he
promised them, and he hated them:  therefore he brought them out, that
he might kill them in the wilderness,
9:29. Who are thy people and thy inheritance, whom thou hast brought
out by thy great strength, and in thy stretched out arm.
Deuteronomy Chapter 10
God giveth the second tables of the law:  a further exhortation to fear
and serve the Lord.
10:1. At that time the Lord said to me:  Hew thee two tables of stone
like the former, and come up to me into the mount:  and thou shalt make
an ark of wood,
10:2. And I will write on the tables the words that were in them, which
thou brokest before, and thou shalt put them in the ark.
10:3. And I made an ark of setim wood.  And when I had hewn two tables
of stone like the former, I went up into the mount, having them in my
10:4. And he wrote in the tables, according as he had written before,
the ten words, which the Lord spoke to you in the mount from the midst
of the fire, when the people were assembled:  and he gave them to me.
10:5. And returning from the mount, I came down, and put the tables
into the ark, that I had made, and they are there till this present, as
the Lord commanded me.
10:6. And the children of Israel removed their camp from Beroth, of the
children of Jacan into Mosera, where Aaron died and was buried, and
Eleazar his son succeeded him in the priestly office.
Mosera. . .By mount Hor, for there Aaron died, Num. 20. This and the
following verses seem to be inserted by way of parenthesis.
10:7. From thence they came to Gadgad, from which place they departed,
and camped in Jetebatha, in a land of waters and torrents.
10:8. At that time he separated the tribe of Levi, to carry the ark of
the covenant of the Lord, and to stand before him in the ministry, and
to bless in his name until this present day.
10:9. Wherefore Levi hath no part nor possession with his brethren:
because the Lord himself is his possession, as the Lord thy God
promised him.
10:10. And I stood in the mount, as before, forty days and nights:  and
the Lord heard me this time also, and would not destroy thee.
10:11. And he said to me:  Go, and walk before the people, that they may
enter, and possess the land, which I swore to their fathers that I
would give them.
10:12. And now, Israel, what doth the Lord thy God require of thee, but
that thou fear the Lord thy God, and walk in his ways, and love him,
and serve the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, and with all thy soul:
10:13. And keep the commandments of the Lord, and his ceremonies, which
I command thee this day, that it may be well with thee?
10:14. Behold heaven is the Lord's thy God, and the heaven of heaven,
the earth and all things that are therein.
10:15. And yet the Lord hath been closely joined to thy fathers, and
loved them and chose their seed after them, that is to say, you, out of
all nations, as this day it is proved.
10:16. Circumcise therefore the foreskin of your heart, and stiffen
your neck no more.
10:17. Because the Lord your God he is the God of gods, and the Lord of
lords, a great God and mighty and terrible, who accepteth no person nor
taketh bribes.
10:18. He doth judgment to the fatherless and the widow, loveth the
stranger, and giveth him food and raiment.
10:19. And do you therefore love strangers, because you also were
strangers in the land of Egypt.
10:20. Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God, and serve him only:  to him
thou shalt adhere, and shalt swear by his name.
10:21. He is thy praise, and thy God, that hath done for thee these
great and terrible things, which thy eyes have seen.
10:22. In seventy souls thy fathers went down into Egypt:  and behold
now the Lord thy God hath multiplied thee as the stars of heaven.
Deuteronomy Chapter 11
The love and service of God are still inculcated, with a blessing to
them that serve him, and threats of punishment if they forsake his law.
11:1. Therefore love the Lord thy God and observe his precepts and
ceremonies, his judgments and commandments at all times.
11:2. Know this day the things that your children know not, who saw not
the chastisements of the Lord your God, his great doings and strong
hand, and stretched out arm,
11:3. The signs and works which he did in the midst of Egypt to king
Pharao, and to all his land,
11:4. And to all the host of the Egyptians, and to their horses and
chariots:  how the waters of the Red Sea covered them, when they pursued
you, and how the Lord destroyed them until this present day:
11:5. And what he hath done to you in the wilderness, til you came to
11:6. And to Dathan and Abiron the sons of Eliab, who was the son of
Ruben:  whom the earth, opening her mouth swallowed up with their
households and tents, and all their substance, which they had in the
midst of Israel.
11:7. Your eyes have seen all the great works of the Lord, that he hath
11:8. That you may keep all his commandments, which I command you this
day, and may go in, and possess the land, to which you are entering,
11:9. And may live in it a long time:  which the Lord promised by oath
to your fathers, and to their seed, a land which floweth with milk and
11:10. For the land, which thou goest to possess, is not like the land
of Egypt, from whence thou camest out, where, when the seed is sown,
waters are brought in to water it after the manner of gardens.
11:11. But it is a land of hills and plains, expecting rain from
11:12. And the Lord thy God doth always visit it, and his eyes are on
it from the beginning of the year unto the end thereof.
11:13. If then you obey my commandments, which I command you this day,
that you love the Lord your God, and serve him with all your heart, and
with all your soul:
11:14. He will give to your land the early rain and the latter rain,
that you may gather in your corn, and your wine, and your oil,
11:15. And your hay out of the fields to feed your cattle, and that you
may eat and be filled.
11:16. Beware lest perhaps your heart be deceived, and you depart from
the Lord, and serve strange gods, and adore them:
11:17. And the Lord being angry shut up heaven, that the rain come not
down, nor the earth yield her fruit, and you perish quickly from the
excellent land, which the Lord will give you.
11:18. Lay up these words in your hearts and minds, and hang them for a
sign on your hands, and place them between your eyes.
11:19. Teach your children that they meditate on them, when thou
sittest in thy house, and when thou walkest on the way, and when thou
liest down and risest up.
11:20. Thou shalt write them upon the posts and the doors of thy house:
11:21. That thy days may be multiplied, and the days of thy children in
the land which the Lord swore to thy fathers, that he would give them
as long as the heaven hangeth over the earth.
11:22. For if you keep the commandments which I command you, and do
them, to love the Lord your God, and walk in all his ways, cleaving
11:23. The Lord will destroy all these nations before your face, and
you shall possess them, which are greater and stronger than you.
11:24. Every place, that your foot shall tread upon, shall be yours.
From the desert, and from Libanus, from the great river Euphrates unto
the western sea shall be your borders.
11:25. None shall stand against you:  the Lord your God shall lay the
dread and fear of you upon all the land that you shall tread upon, as
he hath spoken to you.
11:26. Behold I set forth in your sight this day a blessing and a
11:27. A blessing, if you obey the commandments of the Lord your God,
which I command you this day:
11:28. A curse, if you obey not the commandments of the Lord your God,
but revolt from the way which now I shew you, and walk after strange
gods which you know not.
11:29. And when the Lord thy God shall have brought thee into the land,
whither thou goest to dwell, thou shalt put the blessing upon mount
Garizim, the curse upon mount Hebal:
Put the blessing, et. . .See Deut. 27.12, etc. and Josue 8.33, etc.
11:30. Which are beyond the Jordan, behind the way that goeth to the
setting of the sun, in the land of the Chanaanite who dwelleth in the
plain country over against Galgala, which is near the valley that
reacheth and entereth far.
11:31. For you shall pass over the Jordan, to possess the land, which
the Lord your God will give you, that you may have it and possess it.
11:32. See therefore that you fulfil the ceremonies and judgments,
which I shall set this day before you.
Deuteronomy Chapter 12
All idolatry must be extirpated:  sacrifices, tithes, and firstfruits
must be offered in one only place:  all eating of blood is prohibited.
12:1. These are the precepts and judgments, that you must do in the
land, which the Lord the God of thy fathers will give thee, to possess
it all the days that thou shalt walk upon the earth.
12:2. Destroy all the places in which the nations, that you shall
possess, worshipped their gods upon high mountains, and hills, and
under every shady tree:
12:3. Overthrow their altars, and break down their statues, burn their
groves with fire, and break their idols in pieces:  destroy their names
out of those places.
12:4. You shall not do so to the Lord your God:
12:5. But you shall come to the place, which the Lord your God shall
choose out of all your tribes, to put his name there, and to dwell in
12:6. And you shall offer in that place your holocausts and victims,
the tithes and firstfruits of your hands and your vows and gifts, the
firstborn of your herds and your sheep.
12:7. And you shall eat there in the sight of the Lord your God:  and
you shall rejoice in all things, whereunto you shall put your hand, you
and your houses wherein the Lord your God hath blessed you.
12:8. You shall not do there the things we do here this day, every man
that which seemeth good to himself.
12:9. For until this present time you are not come to rest, and to the
possession, which the Lord your God will give you.
12:10. You shall pass over the Jordan, and shall dwell in the land
which the Lord your God will give you, that you may have rest from all
enemies round about:  and may dwell without any fear,
12:11. In the place, which the Lord your God shall choose, that his
name may be therein.  Thither shall you bring all the things that I
command you, holocausts, and victims, and tithes, and the firstfruits
of your hands:  and whatsoever is the choicest in the gifts which you
shall vow to the Lord.
12:12. There shall you feast before the Lord your God, you and your
sons and your daughters, your menservants and maidservants, and the
Levite that dwelleth in your cities.  For he hath no other part and
possession among you.
12:13. Beware lest thou offer thy holocausts in every place that thou
12:14. But in the place which the Lord shall choose in one of thy
tribes shalt thou offer sacrifices, and shalt do all that I command
12:15. But if thou desirest to eat, and the eating of flesh delight
thee, kill, and eat according to the blessing of the Lord thy God,
which he hath given thee, in thy cities:  whether it be unclean, that is
to say, having blemish or defect:  or clean, that is to say, sound and
without blemish, such as may be offered, as the roe, and the hart,
shalt thou eat it:
12:16. Only the blood thou shalt not eat, but thou shalt pour it out
upon the earth as water.
12:17. Thou mayst not eat in thy towns the tithes of thy corn, and thy
wine, and thy oil, the firstborn of thy herds and thy cattle, nor any
thing that thou vowest, and that thou wilt offer voluntarily, and the
firstfruits of thy hands:
12:18. But thou shalt eat them before the Lord thy God in the place
which the Lord thy God shall choose, thou and thy son and thy daughter,
and thy manservant, and maidservant, and the Levite that dwelleth in
thy cities:  and thou shalt rejoice and be refreshed before the Lord thy
God in all things, whereunto thou shalt put thy hand.
12:19. Take heed thou forsake not the Levite all the time that thou
livest in the land.
12:20. When the Lord thy God shall have enlarged thy borders, as he hath
spoken to thee, and thou wilt eat the flesh that thy soul desireth:
12:21. And if the place which the Lord thy God shall choose, that his
name should be there, be far off, thou shalt kill of thy herds and of
thy flocks, as I have commanded thee, and shalt eat in thy towns, as it
pleaseth thee.
12:22. Even as the roe and the hart is eaten, so shalt thou eat them:
both the clean and unclean shall eat of them alike.
12:23. Only beware of this, that thou eat not the blood, for the blood
is for the soul:  and therefore thou must not eat the soul with the
12:24. But thou shalt pour it upon the earth as water,
12:25. That it may be well with thee and thy children after thee, when
thou shalt do that which is pleasing in the sight of the Lord.
12:26. But the things which thou hast sanctified and vowed to the Lord,
thou shalt take, and shalt come to the place which the Lord shall
12:27. And shalt offer thy oblations, the flesh and the blood upon the
altar of the Lord thy God:  the blood of thy victims thou shalt pour on
the altar:  and the flesh thou thyself shalt eat.
12:28. Observe and hear all the things that I command thee, that it may
be well with thee and thy children after thee for ever, when thou shalt
do what is good and pleasing in the sight of the Lord thy God.
12:29. When the Lord thy God shall have destroyed before thy face the
nations, which thou shalt go in to possess, and when thou shalt possess
them, and dwell in their land:
12:30. Beware lest thou imitate them, after they are destroyed at thy
coming in, and lest thou seek after their ceremonies, saying:  As these
nations have worshipped their gods, so will I also worship.
12:31. Thou shalt not do in like manner to the Lord thy God.  For they
have done to their gods all the abominations which the Lord abhorreth,
offering their sons and daughters, and burning them with fire.
12:32. What I command thee, that only do thou to the Lord:  neither add
any thing, nor diminish.
That only do thou, etc. . .They are forbid here to follow the ceremonies
of the heathens; or to make any alterations in the divine ordinances.
Deuteronomy Chapter 13
False prophets must be slain, and idolatrous cities destroyed.
13:1. If there rise in the midst of thee a prophet or one that saith he
hath dreamed a dream, and he foretell a sign and a wonder,
13:2. And that come to pass which he spoke, and he say to thee:  Let us
go and follow strange gods, which thou knowest not, and let us serve
13:3. Thou shalt not hear the words of that prophet or dreamer:  for the
Lord your God trieth you, that it may appear whether you love him with
all your heart, and with all your soul, or not.
13:4. Follow the Lord your God, and fear him, and keep his
commandments, and hear his voice:  him you shall serve, and to him you
shall cleave.
13:5. And that prophet or forger of dreams shall be slain:  because he
spoke to draw you away from the Lord your God, who brought you out of
the land of Egypt, and redeemed you from the house of bondage:  to make
thee go out of the way, which the Lord thy God commanded thee:  and thou
shalt take away the evil out of the midst of thee.
13:6. If thy brother the son of thy mother, or thy son, or daughter, or
thy wife that is in thy bosom, or thy friend, whom thou lovest as thy
own soul, would persuade thee secretly, saying:  Let us go, and serve
strange gods, which thou knowest not, nor thy fathers,
13:7. Of all the nations round about, that are near or afar off, from
one end of the earth to the other,
13:8. Consent not to him, hear him not, neither let thy eye spare him
to pity and conceal him,
13:9. But thou shalt presently put him to death.  Let thy hand be first
upon him, and afterwards the hands of all the people.
Presently put him to death. . .Not by killing him by private authority,
but by informing the magistrate, and proceeding by order of justice.
13:10. With stones shall he be stoned to death:  because he would have
withdrawn thee from the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the land
of Egypt, from the house of bondage:
13:11. That all Israel hearing may fear, and may do no more any thing
13:12. If in one of thy cities, which the Lord thy God shall give thee
to dwell in, thou hear some say:
13:13. Children of Belial are gone out of the midst of thee, and have
withdrawn the inhabitants of their city, and have said:  Let us go, and
serve strange gods which you know not:
Belial. . .That is, without yoke.  Hence the wicked, who refuse to be
subject to the divine law, are called in scripture the children of
13:14. Inquire carefully and diligently, the truth of the thing by
looking well into it, and if thou find that which is said to be
certain, and that this abomination hath been really committed,
13:15. Thou shalt forthwith kill the inhabitants of that city with the
edge of the sword, and shalt destroy it and all things that are in it,
even the cattle.
13:16. And all the household goods that are there, thou shalt gather
together in the midst of the streets thereof, and shall burn them with
the city itself, so as to comsume all for the Lord thy God, and that it
be a heap for ever:  it shall be built no more.
13:17. And there shall nothing of that anathema stick to thy hand:  that
the Lord may turn from the wrath of his fury, and may have mercy on
thee, and multiply thee as he swore to thy fathers,
13:18. When thou shalt hear the voice of the Lord thy God, keeping all
his precepts, which I command thee this day, that thou mayst do what is
pleasing in the sight of the Lord thy God.
Deuteronomy Chapter 14
In mourning for the dead they are not to follow the ways of the
Gentiles:  the distinction of clean and unclean meats:  ordinances
concerning tithes, and firstfruits.
14:1. Be ye children of the Lord your God:  you shall not cut
yourselves, nor make any baldness for the dead;
14:2. Because thou art a holy people to the Lord thy God:  and he chose
thee to be his peculiar people of all nations that are upon the earth.
14:3. Eat not the things that are unclean.
Unclean. . .See the annotations on Lev. 11.
14:4. These are the beasts that you shall eat, the ox, and the sheep,
and the goat,
14:5. The hart and the roe, the buffle, the chamois, the pygarg, the
wild goat, the camelopardalus.
14:6. Every beast that divideth the hoof in two parts, and cheweth the
cud, you shall eat.
14:7. But of them that chew the cud, but divide not the hoof, you shall
not eat, such as the camel, the hare, and the cherogril:  because they
chew the cud, but divide not the hoof, they shall be unclean to you.
14:8. The swine also, because it divideth the hoof, but cheweth not the
cud, shall be unclean, their flesh you shall not eat, and their
carcasses you shall not touch.
14:9. These shall you eat of all that abide in the waters:  All that
have fins and scales, you shall eat.
14:10. Such as are without fins and scales, you shall not eat, because
they are unclean.
14:11. All birds that are clean you shall eat.
14:12. The unclean eat not:  to wit, the eagle, and the grype, and the
14:13. The ringtail, and the vulture, and the kite according to their
14:14. And all of the raven's kind:
14:15. And the ostrich, and the owl, and the larus, and the hawk
according to its kind:
14:16. The heron, and the swan, and the stork,
14:17. And the cormorant, the porphirion, and the night crow,
14:18. The bittern, and the charadrion, every one in their kind:  the
houp also and the bat.
14:19. Every thing that creepeth, and hath little wings, shall be
unclean, and shall not be eaten.
14:20. All that is clean, you shall eat.
14:21. But whatsoever is dead of itself, eat not thereof.  Give it to
the stranger, that is within thy gates, to eat, or sell it to him:
because thou art the holy people of the Lord thy God.  Thou shalt not
boil a kid in the milk of his dam.
14:22. Every year thou shalt set aside the tithes of all thy fruits
that the earth bringeth forth,
14:23. And thou shalt eat before the Lord thy God in the place which he
shall choose, that his name may be called upon therein, the tithe of
thy corn, and thy wine, and thy oil, and the firstborn of thy herds and
thy sheep:  that thou mayst learn to fear the Lord thy God at all times.
14:24. But when the way and the place which the Lord thy God shall
choose, are far off, and he hath blessed thee, and thou canst not carry
all these things thither,
14:25. Thou shalt sell them all, and turn them into money, and shalt
carry it in thy hand, and shalt go to the place which the Lord shall
14:26. And thou shalt buy with the same money whatsoever pleaseth thee,
either of the herds or of sheep, wine also and strong drink, and all
that thy soul desireth:  and thou shalt eat before the Lord thy God, and
shalt feast, thou and thy house:
14:27. And the Levite that is within thy gates, beware thou forsake him
not, because he hath no other part in thy possession.
14:28. The third year thou shalt separate another tithe of all things
that grow to thee at that time, and shalt lay it up within thy gates.
14:29. And the Levite that hath no other part nor possession with thee,
and the stranger and the fatherless and the widow, that are within thy
gates, shall come and shall eat and be filled:  that the Lord thy God
may bless thee in all the works of thy hands that thou shalt do.
Deuteronomy Chapter 15
The law of the seventh year of remission.  The firstlings of cattle are
to be sanctified to the Lord.
15:1. In the seventh year thou shalt make a remission,
15:2. Which shall be celebrated in this order.  He to whom any thing is
owing from his friend or neighbour or brother, cannot demand it again,
because it is the year of remission of the Lord.
15:3. Of the foreigner or stranger thou mayst exact it:  of thy
countryman and neighbour thou shalt not have power to demand it again.
15:4. And there shall be no poor nor beggar among you:  that the Lord
thy God may bless thee in the land which he will give thee in
There shall be no poor, etc. . .It is not to be understood as a promise,
that there should be no poor in Israel, as appears from ver. 11, where
we learn that God's people would never be at a loss to find objects for
their charity:  but it is an ordinance that all should do their best
endeavours to prevent any of their brethren from suffering the
hardships of poverty and want.
15:5. Yet so if thou hear the voice of the Lord thy God, and keep all
things that he hath ordained, and which I command thee this day, he
will bless thee, as he hath promised.
15:6. Thou shalt lend to many nations, and thou shalt borrow of no man.
Thou shalt have dominion over very many nations, and no one shall have
dominion over thee.
15:7. If one of thy brethren that dwelleth within thy gates of thy city
in the land which the Lord thy God will give thee, come to poverty:
thou shalt not harden thy heart, nor close thy hand,
15:8. But shalt open it to the poor man, thou shalt lend him, that
which thou perceivest he hath need of.
15:9. Beware lest perhaps a wicked thought steal in upon thee, and thou
say in thy heart:  The seventh year of remission draweth nigh; and thou
turn away thy eyes from thy poor brother, denying to lend him that
which he asketh:  lest he cry against thee to the Lord, and it become a
sin unto thee.
15:10. But thou shalt give to him:  neither shalt thou do any thing
craftily in relieving his necessities:  that the Lord thy God may bless
thee at all times, and in all things to which thou shalt put thy hand.
15:11. There will not be wanting poor in the land of thy habitation:
therefore I command thee to open thy hand to thy needy and poor
brother, that liveth in the land.
15:12. When thy brother a Hebrew man, or Hebrew woman is sold to thee,
and hath served thee six years, in the seventh year thou shalt let him
15:13. And when thou sendest him out free, thou shalt not let him go
15:14. But shall give him for his way out of thy flocks, and out of thy
barnfloor, and thy winepress, wherewith the Lord thy God shall bless
15:15. Remember that thou also wast a bondservant in the land of Egypt,
and the Lord thy God made thee free, and therefore I now command thee
15:16. But if he say:  I will not depart:  because he loveth thee, and
thy house, and findeth that he is well with thee:
15:17. Thou shalt take an awl, and bore through his ear in the door of
thy house, and he shall serve thee for ever:  thou shalt do in like
manner to thy womanservant also.
15:18. Turn not away thy eyes from them when thou makest them free:
because he hath served thee six years according to the wages of a
hireling:  that the Lord thy God may bless thee in all the works that
15:19. Of the firstlings, that come of thy herds and thy sheep, thou
shalt sanctify to the Lord thy God whatsoever is of the male sex.  Thou
shalt not work with the firstling of a bullock, and thou shalt not
shear the firstlings of thy sheep.
15:20. In the sight of the Lord thy God shalt thou eat them every year,
in the place that the Lord shall choose, thou and thy house.
15:21. But if it have a blemish, or be lame, or blind, or in any part
disfigured or feeble, it shall not be sacrificed to the Lord thy God.
15:22. But thou shalt eat it within the gates of thy city:  the clean
and the unclean shall eat them alike, as the roe and as the hart.
15:23. Only thou shalt take heed not to eat their blood, but pour it
out on the earth as water.
Deuteronomy Chapter 16
The three principal solemnities to be observed:  just judges to be
appointed in every city:  all occasions of idolatry to be avoided.
16:1. Observe the month of new corn, which is the first of the spring,
that thou mayst celebrate the phase to the Lord thy God:  because in
this month the Lord thy God brought thee out of Egypt by night.
16:2. And thou shalt sacrifice the phase to the Lord thy God, of sheep,
and of oxen, in the place which the Lord thy God shall choose, that his
name may dwell there.
16:3. Thou shalt not eat with it leavened bread:  seven days shalt thou
eat without leaven, the bread of affliction, because thou camest out of
Egypt in fear:  that thou mayst remember the day of thy coming out of
Egypt, all the days of thy life.
16:4. No leaven shall be seen in all thy coasts for seven days, neither
shall any of the flesh of that which was sacrificed the first day in
the evening remain until morning.
16:5. Thou mayst not immolate the phase in any one of thy cities, which
the Lord thy God will give thee:
16:6. But in the place which the Lord thy God shall choose, that his
name may dwell there:  thou shalt immolate the phase in the evening, at
the going down of the sun, at which time thou camest out of Egypt.
16:7. And thou shalt dress, and eat it in the place which the Lord thy
God shall choose, and in the morning rising up thou shalt go into thy
16:8. Six days shalt thou eat unleavened bread:  and on the seventh day,
because it is the assembly of the Lord thy God, thou shalt do no work.
16:9. Thou shalt number unto thee seven weeks from that day, wherein
thou didst put the sickle to the corn.
16:10. And thou shalt celebrate the festival of weeks to the Lord thy
God, a voluntary oblation of thy hand, which thou shalt offer according
to the blessing of the Lord thy God.
16:11. And thou shalt feast before the Lord thy God, thou, and thy son,
and thy daughter, and thy manservant, and thy maidservant, and the
Levite that is within thy gates, and the stranger and the fatherless,
and the widow, who abide with you:  in the place which the Lord thy God
shall choose, that his name may dwell there:
16:12. And thou shalt remember that thou wast a servant in Egypt:  and
thou shalt keep and do the things that are commanded.
16:13. Thou shalt celebrate the solemnity also of tabernacles seven
days, when thou hast gathered in thy fruit of the barnfloor and of the
16:14. And thou shalt make merry in thy festival time, thou, thy son,
and thy daughter, thy manservant, and thy maidservant, the Levite also
and the stranger, and the fatherless and the widow that are within thy
16:15. Seven days shalt thou celebrate feasts to the Lord thy God in
the place which the Lord shall choose:  and the Lord thy God will bless
thee in all thy fruits, and in every work of thy hands, and thou shalt
16:16. Three times in a year shall all thy males appear before the Lord
thy God in the place which he shall choose:  in the feast of unleavened
bread, in the feast of weeks, and in the feast of tabernacles.  No one
shall appear with his hands empty before the Lord:
16:17. But every one shall offer according to what he hath, according
to the blessing of the Lord his God, which he shall give him.
16:18. Thou shalt appoint judges and magistrates in all thy gates,
which the Lord thy God shall give thee, in all thy tribes:  that they
may judge the people with just judgment,
16:19. And not go aside to either part.  Thou shalt not accept person
nor gifts:  for gifts blind the eyes of the wise, and change the words
of the just.
16:20. Thou shalt follow justly after that which is just:  that thou
mayst live and possess the land, which the Lord thy God shall give
16:21. Thou shalt plant no grove, nor any tree near the altar of the
Lord thy God:
16:22. Neither shalt thou make nor set up to thyself a statue:  which
things the Lord thy God hateth.
Deuteronomy Chapter 17
Victims must be without blemish.  Idolaters are to be slain.
Controversies are to be decided by the high priest and council, whose
sentence must be obeyed under pain of death.  The duty of a king, who is
to receive the law of God at the priest's hands.
17:1. Thou shalt not sacrifice to the Lord thy God a sheep, or an ox,
wherein there is blemish, or any fault:  for that is an abomination to
the Lord thy God.
17:2. When there shall be found among you within any of thy gates,
which the Lord thy God shall give thee, man or woman that do evil in
the sight of the Lord thy God, and transgress his covenant,
17:3. So as to go and serve strange gods, and adore them, the sun and
the moon, and all the host of heaven, which I have not commanded:
The host of heaven. . .That is, the stars.
17:4. And this is told thee, and hearing it thou hast inquired
diligently, and found it to be true, and that the abomination is
committed in Israel:
17:5. Thou shalt bring forth the man or the woman, who have committed
that most wicked thing, to the gates of thy city, and they shall be
17:6. By the mouth of two or three witnesses shall he die that is to be
slain.  Let no man be put to death, when only one beareth witness
against him.
17:7. The hands of the witnesses shall be first upon him to kill him,
and afterwards the hands of the rest of the people:  that thou mayst
take away the evil out of the midst of thee.
17:8. If thou perceive that there be among you a hard and doubtful
matter in judgment between blood and blood, cause and cause, leprosy
and leprosy:  and thou see that the words of the judges within thy gates
do vary:  arise, and go up to the place, which the Lord thy God shall
If thou perceive, etc. . .Here we see what authority God was pleased to
give to the church guides of the Old Testament, in deciding, without
appeal, all controversies relating to the law; promising that they
should not err therein; and surely he has not done less for the church
guides of the New Testament.
17:9. And thou shalt come to the priests of the Levitical race, and to
the judge, that shall be at that time:  and thou shalt ask of them, and
they shall shew thee the truth of the judgment.
17:10. And thou shalt do whatsoever they shall say, that preside in the
place, which the Lord shall choose, and what they shall teach thee,
17:11. According to his law; and thou shalt follow their sentence:
neither shalt thou decline to the right hand nor to the left hand.
17:12. But he that will be proud, and refuse to obey the commandment of
the priest, who ministereth at that time to the Lord thy God, and the
decree of the judge, that man shall die, and thou shalt take away the
evil from Israel:
17:13. And all the people hearing it shall fear, that no one afterwards
swell with pride.
17:14. When thou art come into the land, which the Lord thy God will
give thee, and possessest it, and shalt say:  I will set a king over me,
as all nations have that are round about:
17:15. Thou shalt set him whom the Lord thy God shall choose out of the
number of thy brethren.  Thou mayst not make a man of another nation
king, that is not thy brother.
17:16. And when he is made king, he shall not multiply horses to
himself, nor lead back the people into Egypt, being lifted up with the
number of his horsemen, especially since the Lord hath commanded you to
return no more the same way.
17:17. He shall not have many wives, that may allure his mind, nor
immense sums of silver and gold.
17:18. But after he is raised to the throne of his kingdom, he shall
copy out to himself the Deuteronomy of this law in a volume, taking the
copy of the priests of the Levitical tribe,
17:19. And he shall have it with him, and shall read it all the days of
his life, that he may learn to fear the Lord his God, and keep his
words and ceremonies, that are commanded in the law;
17:20. And that his heart be not lifted up with pride over his
brethren, nor decline to the right or to the left, that he and his sons
may reign a long time over Israel.
Deuteronomy Chapter 18
The Lord is the inheritance of the priests and Levites.  Heathenish
abominations are to be avoided.  The great PROPHET CHRIST is promised.
False prophets must be slain.
18:1. The priests and Levites, and all that are of the same tribe,
shall have no part nor inheritance with the rest of Israel, because
they shall eat the sacrifices of the Lord, and his oblations,
18:2. And they shall receive nothing else of the possession of their
brethren:  for the Lord himself is their inheritance, as he hath said to
18:3. This shall be the priest's due from the people, and from them
that offer victims:  whether they sacrifice an ox, or a sheep, they
shall give to the priest the shoulder and the breast:
18:4. The firstfruits also of corn, of wine, and of oil, and a part of
the wool from the shearing of their sheep.
18:5. For the Lord thy God hath chosen him of all thy tribes, to stand
and to minister to the name of the Lord, him and his sons for ever.
18:6. If a Levite go out of any one of the cities throughout all
Israel, in which he dwelleth, and have a longing mind to come to the
place which the Lord shall choose,
18:7. He shall minister in the name of the Lord his God, as all his
brethren the Levites do, that shall stand at that time before the Lord.
18:8. He shall receive the same portion of food that the rest do:
besides that which is due to him in his own city, by succession from
his fathers.
18:9. When thou art come into the land which the Lord thy God shall
give thee, beware lest thou have a mind to imitate the abominations of
those nations.
18:10. Neither let there be found among you any one that shall expiate
his son or daughter, making them to pass through the fire:  or that
consulteth soothsayers, or observeth dreams and omens, neither let
there be any wizard,
18:11. Nor charmer, nor any one that consulteth pythonic spirits, or
fortune tellers, or that seeketh the truth from the dead.
18:12. For the Lord abhorreth all these things, and for these
abominations he will destroy them at thy coming.
18:13. Thou shalt be perfect, and without spot before the Lord thy God.
18:14. These nations, whose land thou shalt possess, hearken to
soothsayers and diviners:  but thou art otherwise instructed by the Lord
18:15. The Lord thy God will raise up to thee a PROPHET of thy nation
and of thy brethren like unto me:  him thou shalt hear:
18:16. As thou desiredst of the Lord thy God in Horeb, when the
assembly was gathered together, and saidst:  Let me not hear any more
the voice of the Lord my God, neither let me see any more this
exceeding great fire, lest I die.
18:17. And the Lord said to me:  They have spoken all things well.
18:18. I will raise them up a prophet out of the midst of their
brethren like to thee:  and I will put my words in his mouth, and he
shall speak to them all that I shall command him.
18:19. And he that will not hear his words, which he shall speak in my
name, I will be the revenger.
18:20. But the prophet, who being corrupted with pride, shall speak in
my name things that I did not command him to say, or in the name of
strange gods, shall be slain.
18:21. And if in silent thought thou answer:  How shall I know the word
that the Lord hath not spoken?
18:22. Thou shalt have this sign:  Whatsoever that same prophet
foretelleth in the name of the Lord, and it cometh not to pass:  that
thing the Lord hath not spoken, but the prophet hath forged it by the
pride of his mind:  and therefore thou shalt not fear him.
Deuteronomy Chapter 19
The cities of refuge.  Wilful murder, and false witnesses must be
19:1. When the Lord thy God hath destroyed the nations, whose land he
will deliver to thee, and thou shalt possess it, and shalt dwell in the
cities and houses thereof:
19:2. Thou shalt separate to thee three cities in the midst of the
land, which the Lord will give thee in possession,
19:3. Paving diligently the way:  and thou shalt divide the whole
province of thy land equally into three parts:  that he who is forced to
flee for manslaughter, may have near at hand whither to escape.
19:4. This shall be the law of the slayer that fleeth, whose life is to
be saved:  He that killeth his neighbor ignorantly, and who is proved to
have had no hatred against him yesterday and the day before:
19:5. But to have gone with him to the wood to hew wood, and in cutting
down the tree the axe slipped out of his hand, and the iron slipping
from the handle struck his friend, and killed him:  he shall flee to one
of the cities aforesaid, and live:
19:6. Lest perhaps the next kinsman of him whose blood was shed, pushed
on by his grief should pursue, and apprehend him, if the way be too
long, and take away the life of him who is not guilty of death, because
he is proved to have had no hatred before against him that was slain.
19:7. Therefore I command thee, that thou separate three cities at
equal distance one from another.
19:8. And when the Lord thy God shall have enlarged thy borders, as he
swore to the fathers, and shall give thee all the land that he promised
19:9. (Yet so, if thou keep his commandments, and do the things which I
command thee this day, that thou love the Lord thy God, and walk in his
ways at all times) thou shalt add to thee other three cities, and shalt
double the number of the three cities aforesaid:
19:10. That innocent blood may not be shed in the midst of the land
which the Lord thy God will give thee to possess, lest thou be guilty
19:11. But if any man hating his neighbour, lie in wait for his life,
and rise and strike him, and he die, and he flee to one of the cities
19:12. The ancients of his city shall send, and take him out of the
place of refuge, and shall deliver him into the hand of the kinsman of
him whose blood was shed, and he shall die.
19:13. Thou shalt not pity him, and thou shalt take away the guilt of
innocent blood out of Israel, that it may be well with thee.
19:14. Thou shalt not take nor remove thy neighbour's landmark, which
thy predecessors have set in thy possession, which the Lord thy God
will give thee in the land that thou shalt receive to possess.
19:15. One witness shall not rise up against any man, whatsoever the
sin or wickedness be:  but in the mouth of two or three witnesses every
word shall stand.
19:16. If a lying witness stand against a man, accusing him of
transgression,
19:17. Both of them, between whom the controversy is, shall stand
before the Lord in the sight of the priests and the judges that shall
be in those days.
19:18. And when after most diligent inquisition, they shall find that
the false witness hath told a lie against his brother:
19:19. They shall render to him as he meant to do to his brother, and
thou shalt take away the evil out of the midst of thee:
19:20. That others hearing may fear, and may not dare to do such
19:21. Thou shalt not pity him, but shalt require life for life, eye
for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot.
Deuteronomy Chapter 20
Laws relating to war.
20:1. If thou go out to war against thy enemies, and see horsemen and
chariots, and the numbers of the enemy's army greater than thine, thou
shalt not fear them:  because the Lord thy God is with thee, who brought
thee out of the land of Egypt.
20:2. And when the battle is now at hand, the priest shall stand before
the army, and shall speak to the people in this manner:
20:3. Hear, O Israel, you join battle this day against your enemies,
let not your heart be dismayed, be not afraid, do not give back, fear
ye them not:
20:4. Because the Lord your God is in the midst of you, and will fight
for you against your enemies, to deliver you from danger.
20:5. And the captains shall proclaim through every band in the hearing
of the army:  What man is there, that hath built a new house, and hath
not dedicated it?  let him go and return to his house, lest he die in
the battle, and another man dedicate it.
20:6. What man is there, that hath planted a vineyard, and hath not as
yet made it to be common, whereof all men may eat?  let him go, and
return to his house, lest he die in the battle, and another man execute
20:7. What man is there, that hath espoused a wife, and not taken her?
let him go, and return to his house, lest he die in the war, and
another man take her.
20:8. After these things are declared they shall add the rest, and
shall speak to the people:  What man is there that is fearful, and faint
hearted?  let him go, and return to his house, lest he make the hearts
of his brethren to fear, as he himself is possessed with fear.
20:9. And when the captains of the army shall hold their peace, and
have made an end of speaking, every man shall prepare their bands to
20:10. If at any time thou come to fight against a city, thou shalt
first offer it peace.
20:11. If they receive it, and open the gates to thee, all the people
that are therein, shall be saved, and shall serve thee paying tribute.
20:12. But if they will not make peace, and shall begin war against
thee, thou shalt besiege it.
20:13. And when the Lord thy God shall deliver it into thy hands, thou
shalt slay all that are therein of the male sex, with the edge of the
20:14. Excepting women and children, cattle and other things, that are
in the city.  And thou shalt divide all the prey to the army, and thou
shalt eat the spoils of thy enemies, which the Lord thy God shall give
20:15. So shalt thou do to all cities that are at a great distance from
thee, and are not of these cities which thou shalt receive in
20:16. But of those cities that shall be given thee, thou shalt suffer
none at all to live:
20:17. But shalt kill them with the edge of the sword, to wit, the
Hethite, and the Amorrhite, and the Chanaanite, the Pherezite, and the
Hevite, and the Jebusite, as the Lord thy God hath commanded thee:
20:18. Lest they teach you to do all the abominations which they have
done to their gods:  and you should sin against the Lord your God.
20:19. When thou hast besieged a city a long time, and hath compassed
it with bulwarks, to take it, thou shalt not cut down the trees that
may be eaten of, neither shalt thou spoil the country round about with
axes:  for it is a tree, and not a man, neither can it increase the
number of them that fight against thee.
20:20. But if there be any trees that are not fruitful, but wild, and
fit for other uses, cut them down, and make engines, until thou take
the city, which fighteth against thee.
Deuteronomy Chapter 21
The expiation of a secret murder.  The marrying a captive.  The eldest
son must not be deprived of his birthright for hatred of his mother.  A
stubborn son is to be stoned to death.  When one is hanged on a gibbet,
he must be taken down the same day and buried.
21:1. When there shall be found in the land, which the Lord thy God
will give thee, the corpse of a man slain, and it is not known who is
guilty of the murder,
21:2. Thy ancients and judges shall go out, and shall measure from the
place where the body lieth the distance of every city round about:
21:3. And the ancients of that city which they shall perceive to be
nearer than the rest, shall take a heifer of the herd, that hath not
drawn in the yoke, nor ploughed the ground,
21:4. And they shall bring her into a rough and stony valley, that
never was ploughed, nor sown:  and there they shall strike off the head
of the heifer:
21:5. And the priests the sons of Levi shall come, whom the Lord thy
God hath chosen to minister to him, and to bless in his name, and that
by their word every matter should be decided, and whatsoever is clean
or unclean should be judged.
21:6. And the ancients of that city shall come to the person slain, and
shall wash their hands over the heifer that was killed in the valley,
21:7. And shall say:  Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our
eyes see it.
21:8. Be merciful to thy people Israel, whom thou hast redeemed, O
Lord, and lay not innocent blood to their charge, in the midst of thy
people Israel.  And the guilt of blood shall be taken from them:
21:9. And thou shalt be free from the innocent's blood, that was shed,
when thou shalt have done what the Lord hath commanded thee.
21:10. If thou go out to fight against thy enemies, and the Lord thy
God deliver them into thy hand, and thou lead them away captives,
21:11. And seest in the number of the captives a beautiful woman, and
lovest her, and wilt have her to wife,
21:12. Thou shalt bring her into thy house:  and she shall shave her
hair, and pare her nails,
21:13. And shall put off the raiment, wherein she was taken:  and shall
remain in thy house, and mourn for her father and mother one month:  and
after that thou shalt go in unto her, and shalt sleep with her, and she
shall be thy wife.
21:14. But if afterwards she please thee not, thou shalt let her go
free, but thou mayst not sell her for money nor oppress her by might
because thou hast humbled her.
21:15. If a man have two wives, one beloved, and the other hated, and
they have had children by him, and the son of the hated be the
21:16. And he meaneth to divide his substance among his sons:  he may
not make the son of the beloved the firstborn, and prefer him before
the son of the hated.
21:17. But he shall acknowledge the son of the hated for the firstborn,
and shall give him a double portion of all he hath:  for this is the
first of his children, and to him are due the first birthrights.
21:18. If a man have a stubborn and unruly son, who will not hear the
commandments of his father or mother, and being corrected, slighteth
21:19. They shall take him and bring him to the ancients of the city,
and to the gate of judgment,
21:20. And shall say to them:  This our son is rebellious and stubborn,
he slighteth hearing our admonitions, he giveth himself to revelling,
and to debauchery and banquetings:
21:21. The people of the city shall stone him:  and he shall die, that
you may take away the evil out of the midst of you, and all Israel
hearing it may be afraid.
21:22. When a man hath committed a crime for which he is to be punished
with death, and being condemned to die is hanged on a gibbet:
21:23. His body shall not remain upon the tree, but shall be buried the
same day:  for he is accursed of God that hangeth on a tree:  and thou
shalt not defile thy land, which the Lord thy God shall give thee in
Deuteronomy Chapter 22
Humanity towards neighbours.  Neither sex may use the apparel of the
other.  Cruelty to be avoided even to birds.  Battlements about the roof
of a house.  Things of divers kinds not to be mixed.  The punishment of
him that slandereth his wife, as also of adultery and rape.
22:1. Thou shalt not pass by if thou seest thy brother's ox, or his
sheep go astray:  but thou shalt bring them back to thy brother.
22:2. And if thy brother be not nigh, or thou know him not:  thou shalt
bring them to thy house, and they shall be with thee until thy brother
seek them, and receive them.
22:3. Thou shalt do in like manner with his ass, and with his raiment,
and with every thing that is thy brother's, which is lost:  if thou find
it, neglect it not as pertaining to another.
22:4. If thou see thy brother's ass or his ox to be fallen down in the
way, thou shalt not slight it, but shalt lift it up with him.
22:5. A woman shall not be clothed with man's apparel, neither shall a
man use woman's apparel:  for he that doth these things is abominable
22:6. If thou find as thou walkest by the way, a bird's nest in a tree,
or on the ground, and the dam sitting upon the young or upon the eggs:
thou shalt not take her with her young:
Thou shalt not take, etc.  This was to shew them to exercise a certain
mercy even to irrational creatures; and by that means to train them up
to a horror of cruelty; and to the exercise of humanity and mutual
charity one to another.
22:7. But shalt let her go, keeping the young which thou hast caught:
that it may be well with thee, and thou mayst live a long time.
22:8. When thou buildest a new house, thou shalt make a battlement to
the roof round about:  lest blood be shed in thy house, and thou be
guilty, if any one slip, and fall down headlong.
Battlement. . .This precaution was necessary, because all their houses
had flat tops, and it was usual to walk and to converse together upon
22:9. Thou shalt not sow thy vineyard with divers seeds:  lest both the
seed which thou hast sown, and the fruit of the vineyard, be sanctified
22:10. Thou shalt not plough with an ox and an ass together.
22:11. Thou shalt not wear a garment that is woven of woollen and linen
22:12. Thou shalt make strings in the hem at the four corners of thy
cloak, wherewith thou shalt be covered.
22:13. If a man marry a wife, and afterwards hate her,
22:14. And seek occasions to put her away, laying to her charge a very
ill name, and say:  I took this woman to wife, and going in to her, I
found her not a virgin:
22:15. Her father and mother shall take her, and shall bring with them
the tokens of her virginity to the ancients of the city that are in the
22:16. And the father shall say:  I gave my daughter unto this man to
wife:  and because he hateth her,
22:17. He layeth to her charge a very ill name, so as to say:  I found
not thy daughter a virgin:  and behold these are the tokens of my
daughter's virginity.  And they shall spread the cloth before the
ancients of the city:
22:18. And the ancients of that city shall take that man, and beat him,
22:19. Condemning him besides in a hundred sicles of silver, which he
shall give to the damsel's father, because he hath defamed by a very
ill name a virgin of Israel:  and he shall have her to wife, and may not
put her away all the days of his life.
22:20. But if what he charged her with be true, and virginity be not
found in the damsel:
22:21. They shall cast her out of the doors of her father's house, and
the men of the city shall stone her to death, and she shall die:
because she hath done a wicked thing in Israel, to play the whore in
her father's house:  and thou shalt take away the evil out of the midst
22:22. If a man lie with another man's wife, they shall both die, that
is to say, the adulterer and the adulteress:  and thou shalt take away
the evil out of Israel.
22:23. If a man have espoused a damsel that is a virgin, and some one
find her in the city, and lie with her,
22:24. Thou shalt bring them both out to the gate of that city, and
they shall be stoned:  the damsel, because she cried not out, being in
the city:  the man, because he hath humbled his neighbour's wife.  And
thou shalt take away the evil from the midst of thee.
22:25. But if a man find a damsel that is betrothed, in the field, and
taking hold of her, lie with her, he alone shall die:
22:26. The damsel shall suffer nothing, neither is she guilty of death:
for as a robber riseth against his brother, and taketh away his life,
so also did the damsel suffer:
22:27. She was alone in the field:  she cried, and there was no man to
22:28. If a man find a damsel that is a virgin, who is not espoused,
and taking her, lie with her, and the matter come to judgment:
22:29. He that lay with her shall give to the father of the maid fifty
sicles of silver, and shall have her to wife, because he hath humbled
her:  he may not put her away all the days of his life.
22:30. No man shall take his father's wife, nor remove his covering.
Deuteronomy Chapter 23
Who may and who may not enter into the church:  uncleanness to be
avoided:  other precepts concerning fugitives, fornication, usury, vows,
and eating other men's grapes and corn.
23:1. An eunuch, whose testicles are broken or cut away, or yard cut
off, shall not enter into the church of the Lord.
Eunuch. . .By these are meant, in the spiritual sense, such as are
barren in good works.  Ibid.  Into the church. . .That is, into the
assembly or congregation of Israel, so as to have the privilege of an
Israelite, or to be capable of any place or office among the people of
23:2. A mamzer, that is to say, one born of a prostitute, shall not
enter into the church of the Lord, until the tenth generation.
23:3. The Ammonite and the Moabite, even after the tenth generation
shall not enter into the church of the Lord for ever:
23:4. Because they would not meet you with bread and water in the way,
when you came out of Egypt:  and because they hired against thee Balaam,
the son of Beor, from Mesopotamia in Syria, to curse thee.
23:5. And the Lord thy God would not hear Balaam, and he turned his
cursing into thy blessing, because he loved thee.
23:6. Thou shalt not make peace with them, neither shalt thou seek
their prosperity all the days of thy life for ever.
23:7. Thou shalt not abhor the Edomite, because he is thy brother:  nor
the Egyptian, because thou wast a stranger in his land.
23:8. They that are born of them, in the third generation shall enter
into the church of the Lord.
23:9. When thou goest out to war against thy enemies, thou shalt keep
thyself from every evil thing.
23:10. If there be among you any man, that is defiled in a dream by
night, he shall go forth out of the camp,
23:11. And shall not return, before he be washed with water in the
evening:  and after sunset he shall return into the camp.
23:12. Thou shalt have a place without the camp, to which thou mayst go
for the necessities of nature,
23:13. Carrying a paddle at thy girdle.  And when thou sittest down,
thou shalt dig round about, and with the earth that is dug up thou
23:14. That which thou art eased of:  (for the Lord thy God walketh in
the midst of thy camp, to deliver thee, and to give up thy enemies to
thee:) and let thy camp be holy, and let no uncleanness appear therein,
lest he go away from thee.
No uncleanness. . .This caution against suffering any filth in the camp,
was to teach them to fly the filth of sin, which driveth God away from
23:15. Thou shalt not deliver to his master the servant that is fled to
23:16. He shall dwell with thee in the place that shall please him, and
shall rest in one of thy cities:  give him no trouble.
23:17. There shall be no whore among the daughters of Israel, nor
whoremonger among the sons of Israel.
23:18. Thou shalt not offer the hire of a strumpet, nor the price of a
dog, in the house of the Lord thy God, whatsoever it be that thou hast
vowed:  because both these are an abomination to the Lord thy God.
23:19. Thou shalt not lend to thy brother money to usury, nor corn, nor
any other thing:
23:20. But to the stranger.  To thy brother thou shalt lend that which
he wanteth, without usury:  that the Lord thy God may bless thee in all
thy works in the land, which thou shalt go in to possess.
To the stranger. . .This was a dispensation granted by God to his
people, who being the Lord of all things, can give a right and title to
one upon the goods of another.  Otherwise the scripture everywhere
condemns usury, as contrary to the law of God, and a crying sin.  See
Ex. 22.25; Lev. 25.36, 37; 2 Esd. 5.7; Ps. 14.5; Ezech. 18.8, 13, etc.
23:21. When thou hast made a vow to the Lord thy God, thou shalt not
delay to pay it:  because the Lord thy God will require it.  And if thou
delay, it shall be imputed to thee for a sin.
23:22. If thou wilt not promise, that shalt be without sin.
23:23. But that which is once gone out of thy lips, thou shalt observe,
and shalt do as thou hast promised to the Lord thy God, and hast spoken
with thy own will and with thy own mouth.
23:24. Going into thy neighbour's vineyard, thou mayst eat as many
grapes as thou pleasest:  but must carry none out with thee:
23:25. If thou go into thy friend's corn, thou mayst break the ears,
and rub them in thy hand:  but not reap them with a sickle.
Deuteronomy Chapter 24
Divorce permitted to avoid greater evil:  the newly married must not go
to war:  of men stealers, of leprosy, of pledges, of labourers' hire, of
justice, and of charity to the poor.
24:1. If a man take a wife, and have her, and she find not favour in
his eyes, for some uncleanness:  he shall write a bill of divorce, and
shall give it in her hand, and send her out of his house.
24:2. And when she is departed, and marrieth another husband,
24:3. And he also hateth her, and hath given her a bill of divorce, and
hath sent her out of his house or is dead:
24:4. The former husband cannot take her again to wife:  because she is
defiled, and is become abominable before the Lord:  lest thou cause thy
land to sin, which the Lord thy God shall give thee to possess.
24:5. When a man hath lately taken a wife, he shall not go out to war,
neither shall any public business be enjoined him, but he shall be free
at home without fault, that for one year he may rejoice with his wife.
24:6. Thou shalt not take the nether, nor the upper millstone to
pledge:  for he hath pledged his life to thee.
24:7. If any man be found soliciting his brother of the children of
Israel, and selling him shall take a price, he shall be put to death,
and thou shalt take away the evil from the midst of thee.
24:8. Observe diligently that thou incur not the stroke of the leprosy,
but thou shalt do whatsoever the priests of the Levitical race shall
teach thee, according to what I have commanded them, and fulfil thou it
24:9. Remember what the Lord your God did to Mary, in the way when you
came out of Egypt.
24:10. When thou shalt demand of thy neighbour any thing that he oweth
thee, thou shalt not go into his house to take away a pledge:
24:11. But thou shalt stand without, and he shall bring out to thee
what he hath.
24:12. But if he be poor, the pledge shall not lodge with thee that
24:13. But thou shalt restore it to him presently before the going down
of the sun:  that he may sleep in his own raiment and bless thee, and
thou mayst have justice before the Lord thy God.
24:14. Thou shalt not refuse the hire of the needy, and the poor,
whether he be thy brother, or a stranger that dwelleth with thee in the
land, and is within thy gates:
24:15. But thou shalt pay him the price of his labour the same day,
before the going down of the sun, because he is poor, and with it
maintaineth his life:  lest he cry against thee to the Lord, and it be
reputed to thee for a sin.
24:16. The fathers shall not be put to death for the children, nor the
children for the fathers, but every one shall die for his own sin,
24:17. Thou shalt not pervert the judgment of the stranger nor of the
fatherless, neither shalt thou take away the widow's raiment for a
24:18. Remember that thou wast a slave in Egypt, and the Lord thy God
delivered thee from thence.  Therefore I command thee to do this thing.
24:19. When thou hast reaped the corn in thy field, and hast forgot and
left a sheaf, thou shalt not return to take it away:  but thou shalt
suffer the stranger, and the fatherless and the widow to take it away:
that the Lord thy God may bless thee in all the works of thy hands.
24:20. If thou have gathered the fruit of thy olive trees, thou shalt
not return to gather whatsoever remaineth on the trees:  but shalt leave
it for the stranger, for the fatherless, and the widow.
24:21. If thou make the vintage of thy vineyard, thou shalt not gather
the clusters that remain, but they shall be for the stranger, the
fatherless, and the widow.
24:22. Remember that thou also wast a bondman in Egypt, and therefore I
command thee to do this thing.
Deuteronomy Chapter 25
Stripes must not exceed forty.  The ox is not to be muzzled.  Of raising
seed to the brother.  Of the immodest woman.  Of unjust weight.  Of
destroying the Amalecites.
25:1. If there be a controversy between men, and they call upon the
judges:  they shall give the prize of justice to him whom they perceive
to be just:  and him whom they find to be wicked, they shall condemn of
25:2. And if they see that the offender be worthy of stripes:  they
shall lay him down, and shall cause him to be beaten before them.
According to the measure of the sin shall the measure also of the
25:3. Yet so, that they exceed not the number of forty:  lest thy
brother depart shamefully torn before thy eyes.
25:4. Thou shalt not muzzle the ox that treadeth out thy corn on the
Not muzzle, etc. . .St. Paul understands this of the spiritual labourer
in the church of God, who is not to be denied his maintenance.  1 Cor.
25:5. When brethren dwell together, and one of them dieth without
children, the wife of the deceased shall not marry to another:  but his
brother shall take her, and raise up seed for his brother:
25:6. And the first son he shall have of her he shall call by his name,
that his name be not abolished out of Israel.
25:7. But if he will not take his brother's wife, who by law belongeth
to him, the woman shall go to the gate of the city, and call upon the
ancients, and say:  My husband's brother refuseth to raise up his
brother's name in Israel:  and will not take me to wife.
25:8. And they shall cause him to be sent for forthwith, and shall ask
him.  If he answer:  I will not take her to wife:
25:9. The woman shall come to him before the ancients, and shall take
off his shoe from his foot, and spit in his face, and say:  So shall it
be done to the man that will not build up his brother's house:
25:10. And his name shall be called in Israel, the house of the unshod.
25:11. If two men have words together, and one begin to fight against
the other, and the other's wife willing to deliver her husband out of
the hand of the stronger, shall put forth her hand, and take him by the
25:12. Thou shalt cut off her hand, neither shalt thou be moved with
any pity in her regard.
25:13. Thou shalt not have divers weights in thy bag, a greater and a
25:14. Neither shall there be in thy house a greater bushel and a less.
25:15. Thou shalt have a just and a true weight, and thy bushel shall
be equal and true:  that thou mayest live a long time upon the land
which the Lord thy God shall give thee.
25:16. For the Lord thy God abhorreth him that doth these things, and
he hateth all injustice.
25:17. Remember what Amalec did to thee in the way when thou camest out
Amalec. . .This order for destroying the Amalecites, in the mystical
sense, sheweth how hateful they are to God, and what punishments they
are to look for from his justice, who attack and discourage his
servants when they are but just come out, as it were, of the Egypt of
this wicked world and being yet weak and fainthearted, are but
beginning their journey to the land of promise.
25:18. How he met thee:  and slew the hindmost of the army, who sat
down, being weary, when thou wast spent with hunger and labour, and he
feared not God.
25:19. Therefore when the Lord thy God shall give thee rest, and shall
have subdued all the nations round about in the land which he hath
promised thee:  thou shalt blot out his name from under heaven.  See thou
forget it not.
Deuteronomy Chapter 26
The form of words with which the firstfruits and tithes are to be
offered.  God's covenant.
26:1. And when thou art come into the land which the Lord thy God will
give thee to possess, and hast conquered it, and dwellest in it:
26:2. Thou shalt take the first of all thy fruits, and put them in a
basket, and shalt go to the place which the Lord thy God shall choose,
that his name may be invocated there:
26:3. And thou shalt go to the priest that shall be in those days, and
say to him:  I profess this day before the Lord thy God, that I am come
into the land, for which he swore to our fathers, that he would give it
26:4. And the priest taking the basket at thy hand, shall set it before
the altar of the Lord thy God:
26:5. And thou shalt speak thus in the sight of the Lord thy God:  The
Syrian pursued my father, who went down into Egypt, and sojourned there
in a very small number, and grew into a nation great and strong and of
an infinite multitude.
The Syrian. . .Laban.  See Gen. 27.
26:6. And the Egyptians afflicted us, and persecuted us, laying on us
most grievous burdens:
26:7. And we cried to the Lord God of our fathers:  who heard us, and
looked down upon our affliction, and labour, and distress:
26:8. And brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand, and a stretched
out arm, with great terror, with signs and wonders:
26:9. And brought us into this place, and gave us this land flowing
with milk and honey.
26:10. And therefore now I offer the firstfruits of the land which the
Lord hath given me.  And thou shalt leave them in the sight of the Lord
thy God, adoring the Lord thy God.
26:11. And thou shalt feast in all the good things which the Lord thy
God hath given thee, and thy house, thou and the Levite, and the
stranger that is with thee.
26:12. When thou hast made an end of tithing all thy fruits, in the
third year of tithes thou shalt give it to the Levite, and to the
stranger, and to the fatherless, and to the widow, that they may eat
within thy gates, and be filled:
26:13. And thou shalt speak thus in the sight of the Lord thy God:  I
have taken that which was sanctified out of my house, and I have given
it to the Levite, and to the stranger, and to the fatherless, and to
the widow, as thou hast commanded me:  I have not transgressed thy
commandments nor forgotten thy precepts.
26:14. I have not eaten of them in my mourning, nor separated them for
any uncleanness, nor spent any thing of them in funerals.  I have obeyed
the voice of the Lord my God, and have done all things as thou hast
commanded me.
26:15. Look from thy sanctuary, and thy high habitation of heaven, and
bless thy people Israel, and the land which thou hast given us, as thou
didst swear to our fathers, a land flowing with milk and honey.
26:16. This day the Lord thy God hath commanded thee to do these
commandments and judgments:  and to keep and fulfil them with all thy
heart, and with all thy soul.
26:17. Thou hast chosen the Lord this day to be thy God, and to walk in
his ways and keep his ceremonies, and precepts, and judgments, and obey
his command.
26:18. And the Lord hath chosen thee this day, to be his peculiar
people, as he hath spoken to thee, and to keep all his commandments:
26:19. And to make thee higher than all nations which he hath created,
to his own praise, and name, and glory:  that thou mayst be a holy
people of the Lord thy God, as he hath spoken.
Deuteronomy Chapter 27
The commandments must be written on stones:  and an altar erected, and
sacrifices offered.  The observers of the commandments are to be
blessed, and the transgressors cursed.
27:1. And Moses with the ancients of Israel commanded the people,
saying:  Keep every commandment that I command you this day.
27:2. And when you are passed over the Jordan into the land which the
Lord thy God will give thee, thou shalt set up great stones, and shalt
plaster them over with plaster,
27:3. That thou mayst write on them all the words of this law, when
thou art passed over the Jordan:  that thou mayst enter into the land
which the Lord thy God will give thee, a land flowing with milk and
honey, as he swore to thy fathers.
27:4. Therefore when you are passed over the Jordan, set up the stones
which I command you this day, in mount Hebal, and thou shalt plaster
them with plaster:
27:5. And thou shalt build there an altar to the Lord thy God, of
stones which iron hath not touched,
27:6. And of stones not fashioned nor polished:  and thou shalt offer
upon it holocausts to the Lord thy God:
27:7. And shalt immolate peace victims, and eat there, and feast before
the Lord thy God.
27:8. And thou shalt write upon the stones all the words of this law
plainly and clearly.
27:9. And Moses and the priests of the race of Levi said to all Israel:
Attend, and hear, O Israel:  This day thou art made the people of the
Lord thy God:
27:10. Thou shalt hear his voice, and do the commandments and justices
which I command thee.
27:11. And Moses commanded the people in that day, saying:
27:12. These shall stand upon mount Garizim to bless the people, when
you are passed the Jordan:  Simeon, Levi, Juda, Issachar, Joseph, and
27:13. And over against them shall stand on mount Hebal to curse:
Ruben, Gad, and Aser, and Zabulon, Dan, and Nephtali.
27:14. And the Levites shall pronounce, and say to all the men of
Israel with a loud voice:
27:15. Cursed be the man that maketh a graven and molten thing, the
abomination of the Lord, the work of the hands of artificers, and shall
put it in a secret place:  and all the people shall answer and say:
27:16. Cursed be he that honoureth not his father and mother:  and all
the people shall say:  Amen.
27:17. Cursed be he that removeth his neighbour's landmarks:  and all
the people shall say:  Amen.
27:18. Cursed be he that maketh the blind to wander out of his way:  and
all the people shall say:  Amen.
27:19. Cursed be he that perverteth the judgment of the stranger, of
the fatherless and the widow:  and all the people shall say:  Amen.
27:20. Cursed be he that lieth with his father's wife, and uncovereth
his bed:  and all the people shall say:  Amen.
27:21. Cursed be he that lieth with any beast:  and all the people shall
27:22. Cursed be he that lieth with his sister, the daughter of his
father, or of his mother:  and all the people shall say:  Amen.
27:23. Cursed be he that lieth with his mother-in-law:  and all the
people shall say:  Amen.
27:24. Cursed be he that secretly killeth his neighbour:  and all the
people shall say:  Amen.
27:25. Cursed be he that taketh gifts, to slay an innocent person:  and
all the people shall say:  Amen.
27:26. Cursed be he that abideth not in the words of this law, and
fulfilleth them not in work:  and all the people shall say:  Amen.
Deuteronomy Chapter 28
Many blessings are promised to observers of God's commandments:  and
curses threatened to transgressors.
28:1. Now if thou wilt hear the voice of all his commandments, which I
command thee this day, the Lord thy God will make thee higher than all
the nations that are on the earth.
28:2. And all these blessings shall come upon thee and overtake thee:
yet so if thou hear his precepts.
All these blessings, etc. . .In the Old Testament, God promised temporal
blessings to the keepers of his law, heaven not being opened as yet;
and that gross and sensual people being more moved with present and
sensible things.  But in the New Testament the goods that are promised
us are spiritual and eternal; and temporal evils are turned into
28:3. Blessed shalt thou be in the city, and blessed in the field.
28:4. Blessed shall be the fruit of thy womb, and the fruit of thy
ground, and the fruit of thy cattle, the droves of thy herds, and the
folds of thy sheep.
28:5. Blessed shall be thy barns and blessed thy stores.
28:6. Blessed shalt thou be coming in and going out.
28:7. The Lord shall cause thy enemies, that rise up against thee, to
fall down before thy face:  one way shall they come out against thee,
and seven ways shall they flee before thee.
28:8. The Lord will send forth a blessing upon thy storehouses, and
upon all the works of thy hands:  and will bless thee in the land that
thou shalt receive.
28:9. The Lord will raise thee up to be a holy people to himself, as he
swore to thee:  if thou keep the commandments of the Lord thy God, and
walk in his ways.
28:10. And all the people of the earth shall see that the name of the
Lord is invocated upon thee, and they shall fear thee.
28:11. The Lord will make thee abound with all goods, with the fruit of
thy womb, and the fruit of thy cattle, with the fruit of thy land,
which the Lord swore to thy fathers that he would give thee.
28:12. The Lord will open his excellent treasure, the heaven, that it
may give rain in due season:  and he will bless all the works of thy
hands.  And thou shalt lend to many nations, and shalt not borrow of any
28:13. And the Lord shall make thee the head and not the tail:  and thou
shalt be always above, and not beneath:  yet so if thou wilt hear the
commandments of the Lord thy God which I command thee this day, and
keep and do them,
28:14. And turn not away from them neither to the right hand, nor to
the left, nor follow strange gods, nor worship them.
28:15. But if thou wilt not hear the voice of the Lord thy God, to keep
and to do all his commandments and ceremonies, which I command thee
this day, all these curses shall come upon thee, and overtake thee.
All these curses, etc. . .Thus God dealt with the transgressors of his
law in the Old Testament:  but now he often suffers sinners to prosper
in this world, rewarding them for some little good they have done, and
reserving their punishment for the other world.
28:16. Cursed shalt thou be in the city, cursed in the field.
28:17. Cursed shall be thy barn, and cursed thy stores.
28:18. Cursed shall be the fruit of thy womb, and the fruit of thy
ground, the herds of thy oxen, and the flocks of thy sheep.
28:19. Cursed shalt thou be coming in, and cursed going out.
28:20. The Lord shall send upon thee famine and hunger, and a rebuke
upon all the works which thou shalt do:  until he consume and destroy
thee quickly, for thy most wicked inventions, by which thou hast
forsaken me.
28:21. May the Lord set the pestilence upon thee, until he consume thee
out of the land, which thou shalt go in to possess.
28:22. May the Lord afflict thee with miserable want, with the fever
and with cold, with burning and with heat, and with corrupted air and
with blasting, and pursue thee till thou perish.
28:23. Be the heaven, that is over thee, of brass:  and the ground thou
treadest on, of iron.
28:24. The Lord give thee dust for rain upon thy land, and let ashes
come down from heaven upon thee, till thou be consumed.
28:25. The Lord make thee to fall down before thy enemies, one way
mayst thou go out against them, and flee seven ways, and be scattered
throughout all the kingdoms of the earth.
28:26. And be thy carcass meat for all the fowls of the air, and the
beasts of the earth, and be there none to drive them away.
28:27. The Lord strike thee with the ulcer of Egypt, and the part of
thy body, by which the dung is cast out, with the scab and with the
itch:  so that thou canst not be healed.
28:28. The Lord strike thee with madness and blindness and fury of
28:29. And mayst thou grope at midday as the blind is wont to grope in
the dark, and not make straight thy ways.  And mayst thou at all times
suffer wrong, and be oppressed with violence, and mayst thou have no
one to deliver thee.
28:30. Mayst thou take a wife, and another sleep with her.  Mayst thou
build a house, and not dwell therein.  Mayest thou plant a vineyard and
not gather the vintage thereof.
28:31. May thy ox be slain before thee, and thou not eat thereof.  May
thy ass be taken away in thy sight, and not restored to thee.  May thy
sheep be given to thy enemies, and may there be none to help thee.
28:32. May thy sons and thy daughters be given to another people, thy
eyes looking on, and languishing at the sight of them all the day, and
may there be no strength in thy hand.
28:33. May a people which thou knowest not, eat the fruits of thy land,
and all thy labours:  and mayst thou always suffer oppression, and be
crushed at all times.
28:34. And be astonished at the terror of those things which thy eyes
28:35. May the Lord strike thee with a very sore ulcer in the knees and
in the legs, and be thou incurable from the sole of the foot to the top
of the head.
28:36. The Lord shall bring thee, and thy king, whom thou shalt have
appointed over thee, into a nation which thou and thy fathers know not:
and there thou shalt serve strange gods, wood and stone.
28:37. And thou shalt be lost, as a proverb and a byword to all people,
among whom the Lord shall bring thee in.
28:38. Thou shalt cast much seed into the ground, and gather little:
because the locusts shall consume all.
28:39. Thou shalt plant a vineyard, and dig it, and shalt not drink the
wine, nor gather any thing thereof:  because it shall be wasted with
28:40. Thou shalt have olive trees in all thy borders, and shalt not be
anointed with the oil:  for the olives shall fall off and perish.
28:41. Thou shalt beget sons and daughters, and shalt not enjoy them:
because they shall be led into captivity.
28:42. The blast shall consume all the trees and the fruits of thy
28:43. The stranger that liveth with thee in the land, shall rise up
over thee, and shall be higher:  and thou shalt go down, and be lower.
28:44. He shall lend to thee, and thou shalt not lend to him.  He shall
be as the head, and thou shalt be the tail.
28:45. And all these curses shall come upon thee, and shall pursue and
overtake thee, till thou perish:  because thou heardst not the voice of
the Lord thy God, and didst not keep his commandments and ceremonies
which he commanded thee.
28:46. And they shall be as signs and wonders on thee, and on thy seed
28:47. Because thou didst not serve the Lord thy God with joy and
gladness of heart, for the abundance of all things:
28:48. Thou shalt serve thy enemy, whom the Lord will send upon thee,
in hunger, and thirst, and nakedness, and in want of all things:  and he
shall put an iron yoke upon thy neck, till he consume thee.
28:49. The Lord will bring upon thee a nation from afar, and from the
uttermost ends of the earth, like an eagle that flyeth swiftly, whose
tongue thou canst not understand,
28:50. A most insolent nation, that will shew no regard to the
ancients, nor have pity on the infant,
28:51. And will devour the fruit of thy cattle, and the fruits of thy
land:  until thou be destroyed, and will leave thee no wheat, nor wine,
nor oil, nor herds of oxen, nor flocks of sheep:  until he destroy thee.
28:52. And consume thee in all thy cities, and thy strong and high wall
be brought down, wherein thou trustedst in all thy land.  Thou shalt be
besieged within thy gates in all thy land which the Lord thy God will
28:53. And thou shalt eat the fruit of thy womb, and the flesh of thy
sons and of thy daughters, which the Lord thy God shall give thee, in
the distress and extremity wherewith thy enemy shall oppress thee.
28:54. The man that is nice among you, and very delicate, shall envy
his own brother, and his wife, that lieth in his bosom,
28:55. So that he will not give them of the flesh of his children,
which he shall eat:  because he hath nothing else in the siege and the
want, wherewith thy enemies shall distress thee within all thy gates.
28:56. The tender and delicate woman, that could not go upon the
ground, nor set down her foot for over much niceness and tenderness,
will envy her husband who lieth in her bosom, the flesh of her son, and
of her daughter,
28:57. And the filth of the afterbirths, that come forth from between
her thighs, and the children that are born the same hour.  For they
shall eat them secretly for the want of all things, in the siege and
distress, wherewith thy enemy shall oppress thee within thy gates.
28:58. If thou wilt not keep, and fulfil all the words of this law,
that are written in this volume, and fear his glorious and terrible
name:  that is, The Lord thy God:
28:59. The Lord shall increase thy plagues, and the plagues of thy
seed, plagues great and lasting, infirmities grievous and perpetual.
28:60. And he shall bring back on thee all the afflictions of Egypt,
which thou wast afraid of, and they shall stick fast to thee.
28:61. Moreover the Lord will bring upon thee all the diseases, and
plagues, that are not written in the volume of this law till he consume
28:62. And you shall remain few in number, who before were as the stars
of heaven for multitude, because thou heardst not the voice of the Lord
28:63. And as the Lord rejoiced upon you before doing good to you, and
multiplying you:  so he shall rejoice destroying and bringing you to
nought, so that you shall be taken away from the land which thou shalt
go in to possess.
28:64. The Lord shall scatter thee among all people, from the farthest
parts of the earth to the ends thereof:  and there thou shalt serve
strange gods, which both thou art ignorant of and thy fathers, wood and
28:65. Neither shalt thou be quiet, even in those nations, nor shall
there be any rest for the sole of thy foot.  For the Lord will give thee
a fearful heart, and languishing eyes, and a soul consumed with
pensiveness:
28:66. And thy life shall be as it were hanging before thee.  Thou shalt
fear night and day, neither shalt thou trust thy life.
28:67. In the morning thou shalt say:  Who will grant me evening?  and at
evening:  Who will grant me morning?  for the fearfulness of thy heart,
wherewith thou shalt be terrified, and for those things which thou
shalt see with thy eyes.
28:68. The Lord shall bring thee again with ships into Egypt, by the
way whereof he said to thee that thou shouldst see it no more.  There
shalt thou be set to sale to thy enemies for bondmen and bondwomen, and
no man shall buy you.
Deuteronomy Chapter 29
The covenant is solemnly confirmed between God and his people.  Threats
against those that shall break it.
29:1. These are the words of the covenant which the Lord commanded
Moses to make with the children of Israel in the land of Moab:  beside
that covenant which he made with them in Horeb.
29:2. And Moses called all Israel, and said to them:  You have seen all
the things that the Lord did before you in the land of Egypt to Pharao,
and to all his servants, and to his whole land.
29:3. The great temptations, which thy eyes have seen, those mighty
signs and wonders,
29:4. And the Lord hath not given you a heart to understand, and eyes
to see, and ears that may hear, unto this present day.
Hath not given you, etc. . .Through your own fault and because you
resisted his grace.
29:5. He hath brought you forty years through the desert:  your garments
are not worn out, neither are the shoes of your feet consumed with age.
29:6. You have not eaten bread, nor have you drunk wine or strong
drink:  that you might know that I am the Lord your God.
29:7. And you came to this place:  and Sehon king of Hesebon, and Og
king of Basan, came out against us to fight.  And we slew them.
29:8. And took their land, and delivered it for a possession to Ruben
and Gad, and the half tribe of Manasses.
29:9. Keep therefore the words of this covenant, and fulfil them:  that
you may understand all that you do.
29:10. You all stand this day before the Lord your God, your princes,
and tribes, and ancients, and doctors, all the people of Israel,
29:11. Your children and your wives, and the stranger that abideth with
thee in the camp, besides the hewers of wood, and them that bring
29:12. That thou mayst pass in the covenant of the Lord thy God, and in
the oath which this day the Lord thy God maketh with thee.
29:13. That he may raise thee up a people to himself, and he may be thy
God as he hath spoken to thee, and as he swore to thy fathers Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob.
29:14. Neither with you only do I make this covenant, and confirm these
29:15. But with all that are present and that are absent.
29:16. For you know how we dwelt in the land of Egypt, and how we have
passed through the midst of nations, and passing through them,
29:17. You have seen their abominations and filth, that is to say,
their idols, wood and stone, silver and gold, which they worshipped.
29:18. Lest perhaps there should be among you a man or a woman, a
family or a tribe, whose heart is turned away this day from the Lord
our God, to go and serve the gods of those nations:  and there should be
among you a root bringing forth gall and bitterness.
29:19. And when he shall hear the words of this oath, he should bless
himself in his heart saying:  I shall have peace, and will walk on in
the naughtiness of my heart:  and the drunken may consume the thirsty,
The drunken, etc., absumat ebria sitientem. . .It is a proverbial
expression, which may either be understood, as spoken by the sinner,
blessing, that is, flattering himself in his sins with the imagination
of peace, and so great an abundance as may satisfy, and as it were,
consume all thirst and want:  or it may be referred to the root of
bitterness, spoken of before, which being drunken with sin may attract,
and by that means consume, such as thirst after the like evils.
29:20. And the Lord should not forgive him:  but his wrath and jealousy
against that man should be exceedingly enkindled at that time, and all
the curses that are written in this volume should light upon him:  and
the Lord should blot out his name from under heaven,
29:21. And utterly destroy him out of all the tribes of Israel,
according to the curses that are contained in the book of this law and
29:22. And the following generation shall say, and the children that
shall be born hereafter, and the strangers that shall come from afar,
seeing the plagues of that land and the evils wherewith the Lord hath
afflicted it,
29:23. Burning it with brimstone, and the heat of salt, so that it
cannot be sown any more, nor any green thing grow therein, after the
example of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrha, Adama and Seboim,
which the Lord destroyed in his wrath and indignation:
29:24. And all the nations shall say:  Why hath the Lord done thus to
this land?  what meaneth this exceeding great heat of his wrath?
29:25. And they shall answer:  Because they forsook the covenant of the
Lord, which he made with their fathers, when he brought them out of the
land of Egypt:
29:26. And they have served strange gods, and adored them, whom they
knew not, and for whom they had not been assigned:
29:27. Therefore the wrath of the Lord was kindled against this land,
to bring upon it all the curses that are written in this volume:
29:28. And he hath cast them out of their land, in anger and in wrath,
and in very great indignation, and hath thrown them into a strange
land, as it is seen this day.
29:29. Secret things to the Lord our God:  things that are manifest, to
us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this
Secret things, etc. . .As much as to say, secret things belong to, and
are known to, God alone; our business must be to observe what he has
revealed and manifested to us, and to direct our lives accordingly.
Deuteronomy Chapter 30
Great mercies are promised to the penitent:  God's commandment is
feasible.  Life and death are set before them.
30:1. Now when all these things shall be come upon thee, the blessing
or the curse, which I have set forth before thee, and thou shalt be
touched with repentance of thy heart among all the nations, into which
the Lord thy God shall have scattered thee,
30:2. And shalt return to him, and obey his commandments, as I command
thee this day, thou and thy children, with all thy heart, and with all
30:3. The Lord thy God will bring back again thy captivity, and will
have mercy on thee, and gather thee again out of all the nations, into
which he scattered thee before.
30:4. If thou be driven as far as the poles of heaven, the Lord thy God
will fetch thee back from hence,
30:5. And will take thee to himself, and bring thee into the land which
thy fathers possessed, and thou shalt possess it:  and blessing thee, he
will make thee more numerous than were thy fathers.
30:6. The Lord thy God will circumcise thy heart, and the heart of thy
seed:  that thou mayst love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with
all thy soul, that thou mayst live.
30:7. And he will turn all these curses upon thy enemies, and upon them
that hate and persecute thee.
30:8. But thou shalt return, and hear the voice of the Lord thy God,
and shalt do all the commandments which I command thee this day:
30:9. And the Lord thy God will make thee abound in all the works of
thy hands, in the fruit of thy womb, and in the fruit of thy cattle, in
the fruitfulness of thy land, and in the plenty of all things.  For the
Lord will return to rejoice over thee in all good things, as he
rejoiced in thy fathers:
30:10. Yet so if thou hear the voice of the Lord thy God, and keep his
precepts and ceremonies, which are written in this law:  and return to
the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul.
30:11. This commandment, that I command thee this day is not above
thee, nor far off from thee:
30:12. Nor is it in heaven, that thou shouldst say:  Which of us can go
up to heaven to bring it unto us, and we may hear and fulfil it in
30:13. Nor is it beyond the sea:  that thou mayst excuse thyself, and
say:  Which of us can cross the sea, and bring it unto us:  that we may
hear, and do that which is commanded?
30:14. But the word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth and in thy
heart, that thou mayst do it.
30:15. Consider that I have set before thee this day life and good, and
on the other hand death and evil:
30:16. That thou mayst love the Lord thy God, and walk in his ways, and
keep his commandments and ceremonies and judgments, and bless thee in
the land, which thou shalt go in to possess.
30:17. But if thy heart be turned away, so that thou wilt not hear, and
being deceived with error thou adore strange gods, and serve them:
30:18. I foretell thee this day that thou shalt perish, and shalt
remain but a short time in the land, to which thou shalt pass over the
Jordan, and shalt go in to possess it.
30:19. I call heaven and earth to witness this day, that I have set
before you life and death, blessing and cursing.  Choose therefore life,
that both thou and thy seed may live:
30:20. And that thou mayst love the Lord thy God, and obey his voice,
and adhere to him (for he is thy life, and the length of thy days,)
that thou mayst dwell in the land, for which the Lord swore to thy
fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob that he would give it them.
Deuteronomy Chapter 31
Moses encourageth the people, and Josue, who is appointed to succeed
him.  He delivereth the law to the priests.  God foretelleth that the
people will often forsake him, and that he will punish them.  He
commandeth Moses to write a canticle, as a constant remembrancer of the
31:1. And Moses went, and spoke all these words to all Israel,
31:2. And he said to them:  I am this day a hundred and twenty years
old, I can no longer go out and come in, especially as the Lord also
hath said to me:  Thou shalt not pass over this Jordan.
31:3. The Lord thy God then will pass over before thee:  he will destroy
all these nations in thy sight, and thou shalt possess them:  and this
Josue shall go over before thee, as the Lord hath spoken.
31:4. And the Lord shall do to them as he did to Sehon and Og the kings
of the Amorrhites, and to their land, and shall destroy them.
31:5. Therefore when the Lord shall have delivered these also to you,
you shall do in like manner to them as I have commanded you.
31:6. Do manfully and be of good heart:  fear not, nor be ye dismayed at
their sight:  for the Lord thy God he himself is thy leader, and will
not leave thee nor forsake thee.
31:7. And Moses called Josue, and said to him before all Israel:  Take
courage, and be valiant:  for thou shalt bring this people into the land
which the Lord swore he would give to their fathers, and thou shalt
divide it by lot.
31:8. And the Lord who is your leader, he himself will be with thee:  he
will not leave thee, nor forsake thee:  fear not, neither be dismayed.
31:9. And Moses wrote this law, and delivered it to the priests the
sons of Levi, who carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and to
all the ancients of Israel.
31:10. And he commanded them, saying:  After seven years, in the year of
remission, in the feast of tabernacles,
31:11. When all Israel come together, to appear in the sight of the
Lord thy God in the place which the Lord shall choose, thou shalt read
the words of this law before all Israel, in their hearing.
31:12. And the people being all assembled together, both men and women,
children and strangers, that are within thy gates:  that hearing they
may learn, and fear the Lord your God, and keep, and fulfil all the
words of this law:
31:13. That their children also, who now are ignorant, may hear, and
fear the Lord their God, all the days that they live in the land
whither you are going over the Jordan to possess it.
31:14. And the Lord said to Moses:  Behold the days of thy death are
nigh:  call Josue, and stand ye in the tabernacle of the testimony, that
I may give him a charge.  So Moses and Josue went and stood in the
tabernacle of the testimony:
31:15. And the Lord appeared there in the pillar of a cloud, which
stood in the entry of the tabernacle.
31:16. And the Lord said to Moses:  Behold thou shalt sleep with thy
fathers, and this people rising up will go a fornicating after strange
gods in the land, to which it goeth in to dwell:  there will they
forsake me, and will make void the covenant, which I have made with
31:17. And my wrath shall be kindled against them in that day:  and I
will forsake them, and will hide my face from them, and they shall be
devoured:  all evils and afflictions shall find them, so that they shall
say in that day:  In truth it is because God is not with me, that these
evils have found me.
31:18. But I will hide, and cover my face in that day, for all the
evils which they have done, because they have followed strange gods.
31:19. Now therefore write you this canticle, and teach the children of
Israel:  that they may know it by heart, and sing it by mouth, and this
song may be unto me for a testimony among the children of Israel.
31:20. For I will bring them into the land, for which I swore to their
fathers, that floweth with milk and honey.  And when they have eaten,
and are full and fat, they will turn away after strange gods, and will
serve them:  and will despise me, and make void my covenant.
31:21. And after many evils and afflictions shall have come upon them,
this canticle shall answer them for a testimony, which no oblivion
shall take away out of the mouth of their seed.  For I know their
thoughts, and what they are about to do this day, before that I bring
them into the land which I have promised them.
31:22. Moses therefore wrote the canticle, and taught it to the
children of Israel.
31:23. And the Lord commanded Josue the son of Nun, and said:  Take
courage, and be valiant:  for thou shalt bring the children of Israel
into the land which I have promised, and I will be with thee.
31:24. Therefore after Moses had wrote the words of this law in a
volume, and finished it:
31:25. He commanded the Levites, who carried the ark of the covenant of
the Lord, saying:
31:26. Take this book, and put it in the side of the ark of the
covenant of the Lord your God:  that it may be there for a testimony
against thee.
31:27. For I know thy obstinacy, and thy most stiff neck.  While I am
yet living, and going in with you, you have always been rebellious
against the Lord:  how much more when I shall be dead?
31:28. Gather unto me all the ancients of your tribes, and your
doctors, and I will speak these words in their hearing, and will call
heaven and earth to witness against them.
31:29. For I know that, after my death, you will do wickedly, and will
quickly turn aside form the way that I have commanded you:  and evils
shall come upon you in the latter times, when you shall do evil in the
sight of the Lord, to provoke him by the works of your hands.
31:30. Moses therefore spoke, in the hearing of the whole assembly of
Israel, the words of this canticle, and finished it even to the end.
Deuteronomy Chapter 32
A canticle for the remembrance of the law.  Moses is commanded to go up
into a mountain, from whence he shall see the promised land but not
enter into it.
32:1. Hear, O ye heavens, the things I speak, let the earth give ear to
the words of my mouth.
32:2. Let my doctrine gather as the rain, let my speech distil as the
dew, as a shower upon the herb, and as drops upon the grass.
32:3. Because I will invoke the name of the Lord:  give ye magnificence
32:4. The works of God are perfect, and all his ways are judgments:  God
is faithful and without any iniquity, he is just and right.
32:5. They have sinned against him, and are none of his children in
their filth:  they are a wicked and perverse generation.
32:6. Is this the return thou makest to the Lord, O foolish and
senseless people?  Is not he thy father, that hath possessed thee, and
made thee, and created thee?
32:7. Remember the days of old, think upon every generation:  ask thy
father, and he will declare to thee:  thy elders and they will tell
32:8. When the Most High divided the nations:  when he separated the
sons of Adam, he appointed the bounds of people according to the number
of the children of Israel.
32:9. But the Lord's portion is his people:  Jacob the lot of his
inheritance.
32:10. He found him in a desert land, in a place of horror, and of vast
wilderness:  he led him about, and taught him:  and he kept him as the
apple of his eye.
32:11. As the eagle enticing her young to fly, and hovering over them,
he spread his wings, and hath taken him and carried him on his
32:12. The Lord alone was his leader:  and there was no strange god with
32:13. He set him upon high land:  that he might eat the fruits of the
fields, that he might suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of the
hardest stone,
32:14. Butter of the herd, and milk of the sheep with the fat of lambs,
and of the rams of the breed of Basan:  and goats with the marrow of
wheat, and might drink the purest blood of the grape.
32:15. The beloved grew fat, and kicked:  he grew fat, and thick and
gross, he forsook God who made him, and departed from God his saviour.
32:16. They provoked him by strange gods, and stirred him up to anger,
with their abominations.
32:17. They sacrificed to devils and not to God:  to gods whom they knew
not:  that were newly come up, whom their fathers worshipped not.
32:18. Thou hast forsaken the God that begot thee, and hast forgotten
the Lord that created thee.
32:19. The Lord saw, and was moved to wrath:  because his own sons and
daughters provoked him.
32:20. And he said:  I will hide my face from them, and will consider
what their last end shall be:  for it is a perverse generation, and
unfaithful children.
32:21. They have provoked me with that which was no god, and have
angered me with their vanities:  and I will provoke them with that which
is no people, and will vex them with a foolish nation.
32:22. A fire is kindled in my wrath, and shall burn even to the lowest
hell:  and shall devour the earth with her increase, and shall burn the
foundations of the mountains.
32:23. I will heap evils upon them, and will spend my arrows among
32:24. They shall be consumed with famine, and birds shall devour them
with a most bitter bite:  I will send the teeth of beasts upon them,
with the fury of creatures that trail upon the ground, and of serpents.
32:25. Without, the sword shall lay them waste, and terror within, both
the young man and the virgin, the sucking child with the man in years.
32:26. I said:  Where are they?  I will make the memory of them to cease
from among men.
32:27. But for the wrath of the enemies I have deferred it:  lest
perhaps their enemies might be proud, and should say:  Our mighty hand,
and not the Lord, hath done all these things.
32:28. They are a nation without counsel, and without wisdom.
32:29. O that they would be wise and would understand, and would
provide for their last end.
32:30. How should one pursue after a thousand, and two chase ten
thousand?  Was it not, because their God had sold them, and the Lord had
shut them up?
32:31. For our God is not as their gods:  our enemies themselves are
32:32. Their vines are of the vineyard of Sodom, and of the suburbs of
Gomorrha:  their grapes are grapes of gall, and their clusters most
32:33. Their wine is the gall of dragons, and the venom of asps, which
is incurable.
32:34. Are not these things stored up with me, and sealed up in my
32:35. Revenge is mine, and I will repay them in due time, that their
foot may slide:  the day of destruction is at hand, and the time makes
haste to come.
32:36. The Lord will judge his people, and will have mercy on his
servants:  he shall see that their hand is weakened, and that they who
were shut up have also failed, and they that remained are consumed.
32:37. And he shall say:  Where are their gods, in whom they trusted?
32:38. Of whose victims they ate the fat, and drank the wine of their
drink offerings:  let them arise and help you, and protect you in your
32:39. See ye that I alone am, and there is no other God besides me:  I
will kill and I will make to live:  I will strike, and I will heal, and
there is none that can deliver out of my hand.
32:40. I will lift up my hand to heaven, and I will say:  I live for
32:41. If I shall whet my sword as the lightning, and my hand take hold
on judgment:  I will render vengeance to my enemies, and repay them that
32:42. I will make my arrows drunk with blood, and my sword shall
devour flesh, of the blood of the slain and of the captivity, of the
bare head of the enemies.
32:43. Praise his people, ye nations, for he will revenge the blood of
his servants:  and will render vengeance to their enemies, and he will
be merciful to the land of his people.
32:44. So Moses came and spoke all the words of this canticle in the
ears of the people, and Josue the son of Nun.
32:45. And he ended all these words, speaking to all Israel.
32:46. And he said to them:  Set your hearts on all the words, which I
testify to you this day:  which you shall command your children to
observe and to do, and to fulfil all that is written in this law:
32:47. For they are not commanded you in vain, but that every one
should live in them, and that doing them you may continue a long time
in the land whither you are going over the Jordan to possess it.
32:48. And the Lord spoke to Moses the same day, saying:
32:49. Go up into this mountain Abarim, (that is to say, of passages,)
unto mount Nebo, which is in the land of Moab over against Jericho:  and
see the land of Chanaan, which I will deliver to the children of Israel
to possess, and die thou in the mountain.
32:50. When thou art gone up into it thou shalt be gathered to thy
people, as Aaron thy brother died in mount Hor, and was gathered to his
32:51. Because you trespassed against me in the midst of the children
of Israel, at the waters of contradiction, in Cades of the desert of
Sin:  and you did not sanctify me among the children of Israel.
32:52. Thou shalt see the land before thee, which I will give to the
children of Israel, but thou shalt not enter into it.
Deuteronomy Chapter 33
Moses before his death blesseth the tribes of Israel.
33:1. This is the blessing, wherewith the man of God, Moses, blessed
the children of Israel, before his death.
33:2. And he said:  The Lord came from Sinai, and from Seir he rose up
to us:  he hath appeared from mount Pharan, and with him thousands of
saints.  In his right hand a fiery law.
33:3. He hath loved the people, all the saints are in his hand:  and
they that approach to his feet, shall receive of his doctrine.
33:4. Moses commanded us a law, the inheritance of the multitude of
33:5. He shall be king with the most right, the princes of the people,
being assembled with the tribes of Israel.
33:6. Let Ruben live, and not die, and be he small in number.
33:7. This is the blessing of Juda.  Hear, O Lord, the voice of Juda,
and bring him in unto his people:  his hands shall fight for him, and he
shall be his helper against his enemies.
33:8. To Levi also he said:  Thy perfection, and thy doctrine be to thy
holy man, whom thou hast proved in the temptation, and judged at the
waters of contradiction:
Holy man. . .Aaron and his successors in the priesthood.
33:9. Who hath said to his father, and to his mother:  I do not know
you; and to his brethren:  I know you not:  and their own children they
have not known.  These have kept thy word, and observed thy covenant,
Who hath said, etc. . .It is the duty of the priestly tribe to prefer
God's honour and service before all considerations of flesh and blood:
in such manner as to behave as strangers to their nearest akin, when
these would withdraw them from the business of their calling.
33:10. Thy judgments, O Jacob, and thy law, O Israel:  they shall put
incense in thy wrath and holocaust upon thy altar.
33:11. Bless, O Lord, his strength, and receive the works of his hands.
Strike the backs of his enemies, and let not them that hate him rise.
33:12. And to Benjamin he said:  The best beloved of the Lord shall
dwell confidently in him:  as in a bride chamber shall he abide all the
day long, and between his shoulders shall be rest.
Shall dwell, etc. . .This seems to allude to the temple being built in
the confines of the tribe of Benjamin.
33:13. To Joseph also he said:  Of the blessing of the Lord be his land,
of the fruits of heaven, and of the dew, and of the deep that lieth
33:14. Of the fruits brought forth by the sun and by the moon.
33:15. Of the tops of the ancient mountains, of the fruits of the
everlasting hills:
33:16. And of the fruits of the earth, and of the fulness thereof.  The
blessing of him that appeared in the bush, come upon the head of
Joseph, and upon the crown of the Nazarite among his brethren.
The Nazarite. . .See the note on Gen. 49.26.
33:17. His beauty as of the firstling of a bullock, his horns as the
horns of a rhinoceros:  with them shall he push the nations even to the
ends of the earth.  These are the multitudes of Ephraim and these the
thousands of Manasses.
33:18. And to Zabulon he said:  Rejoice, O Zabulon, in thy going out;
and Issachar in thy tabernacles.
33:19. They shall call the people to the mountain:  there shall they
sacrifice the victims of justice.  Who shall suck as milk the abundance
of the sea, and the hidden treasures of the sands.
33:20. And to Gad he said:  Blessed be Gad in his breadth:  he hath
rested as a lion, and hath seized upon the arm and the top of the head.
33:21. And he saw his pre-eminence, that in his portion the teacher was
laid up:  who was with the princes of the people, and did the justices
of the Lord, and his judgment with Israel.
He saw, etc. . .The pre-eminence of the tribe of Gad, to which this
alludeth, was their having the lawgiver Moses buried in their borders;
though the particular place was not known.
33:22. To Dan also he said:  Dan is a young lion, he shall flow
plentifully from Basan.
33:23. And To Nephtali he said:  Nephtali shall enjoy abundance, and
shall be full of the blessings of the Lord:  he shall possess the sea
and the south.
The sea. . .The lake of Genesareth.
33:24. To Aser also he said:  Let Aser be blessed with children, let him
be acceptable to his brethren, and let him dip his foot in oil.
33:25. His shoe shall be iron and brass.  As the days of thy youth, so
also shall thy old age be.
33:26. There is no other god like the God of the rightest:  he that is
mounted upon the heaven is thy helper.  By his magnificence the clouds
run hither and thither.
33:27. His dwelling is above, and underneath are the everlasting arms:
he shall cast out the enemy from before thee, and shall say:  Be thou
brought to nought.
Underneath are the everlasting arms. . .Though the dwelling of God be
above in heaven, his arms are always stretched out to help us here
33:28. Israel shall dwell in safety, and alone.  The eye of Jacob in a
land of corn and wine, and the heavens shall be misty with dew.
33:29. Blessed art thou, Israel:  who is like to thee, O people, that
art saved by the Lord?  the shield of thy help, and the sword of thy
glory:  thy enemies shall deny thee, and thou shalt tread upon their
Deuteronomy Chapter 34
Moses seeth the promised land, but is not suffered to go into it.  He
dieth at the age of 120 years.  God burieth his body secretly, and all
Israel mourn for him thirty days.  Josue, replenished (by imposition of
Moses's hands) with the spirit of God, succeedeth.  But Moses, for his
special familiarity with God, and for most wonderful miracles, is
commended above all other prophets.
34:1. Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab upon mount Nebo, to
the top of Phasga over against Jericho:  and the Lord shewed him all the
land of Galaad as far as Dan.
34:2. And all Nephtali, and the land of Ephraim and Manasses, and all
the land of Juda unto the furthermost sea,
34:3. And the south part, and the breadth of the plain of Jericho the
city of palm trees as far as Segor.
34:4. And the Lord said to him:  This is the land, for which I swore to
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, saying:  I will give it to thy seed.  Thou
hast seen it with thy eyes, and shalt not pass over to it.
34:5. And Moses the servant of the Lord died there, in the land of
Moab, by the commandment of the Lord:
Died there. . .This last chapter of Deuteronomy, in which the death of
Moses is related, was written by Josue, or by some of the prophets.
34:6. And he buried him in the valley of the land of Moab over against
Phogor:  and no man hath known of his sepulchre until this present day.
He buried him, viz. . .by the ministry of angels, and would have the
place of his burial to be unknown, lest the Israelites, who were so
prone to idolatry, might worship him with divine honours.
34:7. Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died:  his eye
was not dim, neither were his teeth moved.
34:8. And the children of Israel mourned for him in the plains of Moab
thirty days:  and the days of their mourning in which they mourned Moses
34:9. And Josue the son of Nun was filled with the spirit of wisdom,
because Moses had laid his hands upon him.  And the children of Israel
obeyed him, and did as the Lord commanded Moses.
34:10. And there arose no more a prophet in Israel like unto Moses,
whom the Lord knew face to face,
34:11. In all the signs and wonders, which he sent by him, to do in the
land of Egypt to Pharao, and to all his servants, and to his whole
34:12. And all the mighty hand, and great miracles, which Moses did
before all Israel.
THE BOOK OF JOSUE
This Book is called JOSUE, because it contains the history of what
passed under him, and according to the common opinion was written by
him.  The Greeks call him Jesus:  for Josue and Jesus in the Hebrew, are
the same name, and have the same signification, viz., A SAVIOUR.  And it
was not without a mystery that he who was to bring the people into the
land of promise should have his name changed from OSEE (for so he was
called before, Num. 13.17,) to JOSUE or JESUS, to give us to
understand, that Moses by his law could only bring the people within
sight of the promised inheritance, but that our Saviour JESUS was to
bring us into it.
Josue Chapter 1
Josue, encouraged by the Lord, admonisheth the people to prepare
themselves to pass over the Jordan.
1:1. Now it came to pass after the death of Moses, the servant of the
Lord, that the Lord spoke to Josue, the son of Nun, the minister of
Moses, and said to him:
1:2. Moses my servant is dead:  arise, and pass over this Jordan, thou
and thy people with thee, into the land which I will give to the
children of Israel.
1:3. I will deliver to you every place that the sole of your foot shall
tread upon, as I have said to Moses.
1:4. From the desert, and from Libanus unto the great river Euphrates,
all the land of the Hethites, unto the great sea toward the going down
of the sun, shall be your border.
1:5. No man shall be able to resist you all the days of thy life:  as I
have been with Moses, so will I be with thee:  I will not leave thee,
nor forsake thee.
1:6. Take courage, and be strong:  for thou shalt divide by lot to this
people the land for which I swore to their fathers, that I would
deliver it to them.
1:7. Take courage therefore, and be very valiant:  that thou mayst
observe and do all the law, which Moses my servant hath commanded thee:
turn not from it to the right hand or to the left, that thou mayst
understand all things which thou dost.
1:8. Let not the book of this law depart from thy mouth:  but thou shalt
meditate on it day and night, that thou mayst observe and do all things
that are written in it:  then shalt thou direct thy way, and understand
1:9. Behold I command thee, take courage, and be strong.  Fear not, and
be not dismayed:  because the Lord thy God is with thee in all things
whatsoever thou shalt go to.
1:10. And Josue commanded the princes of the people, saying:  Pass
through the midst of the camp, and command the people, and say:
1:11. Prepare your victuals:  for after the third day you shall pass
over the Jordan, and shall go in to possess the land, which the Lord
your God will give you.
1:12. And he said to the Rubenites, and the Gadites, and the half tribe
of Manasses:
1:13. Remember the word, which Moses the servant of the Lord commanded
you, saying:  The Lord your God hath given you rest, and all this land.
1:14. Your wives, and children; and cattle, shall remain in the land
which Moses gave you on this side of the Jordan:  but pass you over
armed before your brethren all of you that are strong of hand, and
fight for them,
1:15. Until the Lord give rest to your brethren, as he hath given you,
and they also possess the land which the Lord your God will give them:
and so you shall return into the land of your possession, and you shall
dwell in it, which Moses the servant of the Lord gave you beyond the
Jordan, toward the rising of the sun.
1:16. And they made answer to Josue, and said:  All that thou hast
commanded us, we will do:  and whither soever thou shalt send us, we
1:17. As we obeyed Moses in all things, so will we obey thee also:  only
be the Lord thy God with thee, as he was with Moses.
1:18. He that shall gainsay thy mouth, and not obey all thy words, that
thou shalt command him, let him die:  only take thou courage, and do
Josue Chapter 2
Two spies are sent to Jericho, who are received and concealed by Rahab.
2:1. And Josue, the son of Nun, sent from Setim two men, to spy
secretly:  and said to them:  Go, and view the land, and the city of
Jericho.  They went, and entered into the house of a woman that was a
harlot, named Rahab, and lodged with her.
2:2. And it was told the king of Jericho, and was said:  Behold there
are men come in hither, by night, of the children of Israel, to spy the
2:3. And the king of Jericho sent to Rahab, saying:  Bring forth the men
that came to thee, and are entered into thy house:  for they are spies,
and are come to view all the land.
2:4. And the woman taking the men, hid them, and said:  I confess they
came to me, but I knew not whence they were:
2:5. And at the time of shutting the gate in the dark, they also went
out together.  I know not whither they are gone:  pursue after them
quickly, and you will overtake them.
2:6. But she made the men go up to the top of her house, and covered
them with the stalks of flax, which was there.
2:7. Now they that were sent, pursued after them, by the way that
leadeth to the fords of the Jordan:  and as soon as they were gone out,
the gate was presently shut.
2:8. The men that were hid were not yet asleep, when behold the woman
went up to them, and said:
2:9. I know that the Lord hath given this land to you:  for the dread of
you is fallen upon us, and all the inhabitants of the land have lost
all strength.
2:10. We have heard that the Lord dried up the water of the Red Sea, at
your going in, when you came out of Egypt:  and what things you did to
the two kings of the Amorrhites, that were beyond the Jordan, Sehon and
Og whom you slew.
2:11. And at the hearing these things, we were affrighted, and our
heart fainted away, neither did there remain any spirit in us, at your
coming in:  for the Lord your God he is God in heaven above, and in the
earth beneath.
2:12. Now, therefore, swear ye to me by the Lord, that as I have shewed
mercy to you, so you also will shew mercy to my father's house:  and
give me a true token.
2:13. That you will save my father and mother, my brethren and sisters,
and all things that are theirs, and deliver our souls from death.
2:14. They answered her:  Be our lives for you unto death, only if thou
betray us not.  And when the Lord shall have delivered us the land, we
will shew thee mercy and truth.
2:15. Then she let them down with a cord out of a window:  for her house
joined close to the wall.
2:16. And she said to them:  Get ye up to the mountains, lest perhaps
they meet you as they return:  and there lie ye hid three days, till
they come back, and so you shall go on your way.
2:17. And they said to her:  We shall be blameless of this oath, which
thou hast made us swear,
2:18. If, when we come into the land, this scarlet cord be a sign, and
thou tie it in the window, by which thou hast let us down:  and gather
together thy father and mother, and brethren, and all thy kindred into
2:19. Whosoever shall go out of the door of thy house, his blood shall
be upon his own head, and we shall be quit.  But the blood of all that
shall be with thee in the house, shall light upon our head, if any man
2:20. But if thou wilt betray us, and utter this word abroad, we shall
be quit of this oath, which thou hast made us swear.
2:21. And she answered:  As you have spoken, so be it done:  and sending
them on their way, she hung the scarlet cord in the window.
2:22. But they went and came to the mountains, and stayed there three
days, till they that pursued them were returned.  For having sought them
through all the way, they found them not.
2:23. And when they were gone back into the city, the spies returned,
and came down from the mountain:  and passing over the Jordan, they came
to Josue, the son of Nun, and told him all that befel them,
2:24. And said:  the Lord hath delivered all this land into our hands,
and all the inhabitants thereof are overthrown with fear.
Josue Chapter 3
The river Jordan is miraculously dried up for the passage of the
children of Israel.
3:1. And Josue rose before daylight, and removed the camp:  and they
departed from Setim, and came to the Jordan:  he, and all the children
of Israel, and they abode there for three days.
3:2. After which, the heralds went through the midst of the camp,
3:3. And began to proclaim:  When you shall see the ark of the covenant
of the Lord your God, and the priests of the race of Levi carrying it,
rise you up also, and follow them as they go before:
3:4. And let there be between you and the ark the space of two thousand
cubits:  that you may see it afar off, and know which way you must go:
for you have not gone this way before:  and take care you come not near
3:5. And Josue said to the people:  Be ye sanctified:  for tomorrow the
Lord will do wonders among you.
3:6. And he said to the priests:  Take up the ark of the covenant, and
go before the people.  And they obeyed his commands, and took it up, and
walked before them.
3:7. And the Lord said to Josue:  This day will I begin to exalt thee
before Israel:  that they may know that as I was with Moses, so I am
with thee also.
3:8. And do thou command the priests, that carry the ark of the
covenant, and say to them:  When you shall have entered into part of the
water of the Jordan, stand in it.
3:9. And Josue said to the children of Israel:  Come hither, and hear
the word of the Lord your God.
3:10. And again he said:  By this you shall know, that the Lord, the
living God, is in the midst of you, and that he shall destroy, before
your sight, the Chanaanite and the Hethite, the Hevite and the
Pherezite, the Gergesite also, and the Jebusite, and the Amorrhite.
3:11. Behold, the ark of the covenant of the Lord of all the earth
shall go before you into the Jordan.
3:12. Prepare ye twelve men of the tribes of Israel, one of every
3:13. And when the priests, that carry the ark of the Lord the God of
the whole earth, shall set the soles of their feet in the waters of the
Jordan, the waters that are beneath shall run down and go off:  and
those that come from above, shall stand together upon a heap.
3:14. So the people went out of their tents, to pass over the Jordan:
and the priests that carried the ark of the covenant, went on before
3:15. And as soon as they came into the Jordan, and their feet were
dipped in part of the water, (now the Jordan, it being harvest time,
had filled the banks of its channel,)
3:16. The waters that came down from above stood in one place, and
swelling up like a mountain, were seen afar off, from the city that is
called Adom, to the place of Sarthan:  but those that were beneath, ran
down into the sea of the wilderness, (which now is called the Dead Sea)
until they wholly failed.
3:17. And the people marched over against Jericho:  and the priests that
carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord, stood girded upon the dry
ground in the midst of the Jordan, and all the people passed over,
through the channel that was dried up.
Josue Chapter 4
Twelve stones are taken out of the river to be set up for a monument of
the miracle; and other twelve are placed in the midst of the river.
4:1. And when they were passed over, the Lord said to Josue:
4:2. Choose twelve men, one of every tribe:
4:3. And command them to take out of the midst of the Jordan, where the
feet of the priests stood, twelve very hard stones, which you shall set
in the place of the camp, where you shall pitch your tents this night.
4:4. And Josue called twelve men, whom he had chosen out of the
children of Israel, one out of every tribe,
4:5. And he said to them:  Go before the ark of the Lord your God to the
midst of the Jordan, and carry from thence every man a stone on your
shoulders, according to the number of the children of Israel,
4:6. That it may be a sign among you:  and when your children shall ask
you tomorrow, saying:  What means these stones?
4:7. You shall answer them:  The waters of the Jordan ran off before the
ark of the covenant of the Lord when it passed over the same:  therefore
were these stones set for a monument of the children of Israel forever.
4:8. The children of Israel therefore did as Josue commanded them,
carrying out of the channel of the Jordan twelve stones, as the Lord
had commanded him according to the number of the children of Israel
unto the place wherein they camped, and there they set them.
4:9. And Josue put other twelve stones in the midst of the channel of
the Jordan, where the priests stood that carried the ark of the
covenant:  and they are there until this present day.
4:10. Now the priests that carried the ark, stood in the midst of the
Jordan, till all things were accomplished, which the Lord had commanded
Josue to speak to the people, and Moses had said to him.  And the people
made haste, and passed over.
4:11. And when they had all passed over, the ark also of the Lord
passed over, and the priests went before the people.
4:12. The children of Ruben also, and Gad, and half the tribe of
Manasses, went armed before the children of Israel, as Moses had
commanded them.
4:13. And forty thousand fighting men by their troops and bands,
marched through the plains and fields of the city of Jericho.
4:14. In that day the Lord magnified Josue in the sight of all Israel,
that they should fear him, as they had feared Moses, while he lived.
4:15. And he said to him:
4:16. Command the priests, that carry the ark of the covenant, to come
up out of the Jordan.
4:17. And he commanded them, saying:  Come ye up out of the Jordan.
4:18. And when they that carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord,
were come up, and began to tread on the dry ground, the waters returned
into their channel, and ran as they were wont before.
4:19. And the people came up out of the Jordan, the tenth day of the
first month, and camped in Galgal, over against the east side of the
city of Jericho.
4:20. And the twelve stones, which they had taken out of the channel of
the Jordan, Josue pitched in Galgal,
4:21. And said to the children of Israel:  When your children shall ask
their fathers tomorrow, and shall say to them:  What mean these stones?
4:22. You shall teach them, and say:  Israel passed over this Jordan
through the dry channel,
4:23. The Lord your God drying up the waters thereof in your sight,
until you passed over:
4:24. As he had done before in the Red Sea, which he dried up till we
passed through:
4:25. That all the people of the earth may learn the most mighty hand
of the Lord, that you also may fear the Lord your God for ever.
Josue Chapter 5
The people are circumcised:  they keep the pasch.  The manna ceaseth.  An
angel appeareth to Josue.
5:1. Now when all the kings of the Amorrhites, who dwelt beyond the
Jordan, westward, and all the kings of Chanaan, who possessed the
places near the great sea, had heard that the Lord had dried up the
waters of the Jordan before the children of Israel, till they passed
over, their heart failed them, and there remained no spirit in them,
fearing the coming in of the children of Israel.
5:2. At that time the Lord said to Josue:  Make thee knives of stone,
and circumcise the second time the children of Israel.
The second time. . .Not that such as had been circumcised before were to
be circumcised again; but that they were now to renew, and take up
again the practice of circumcision; which had been omitted during their
forty years' sojourning in the wilderness; by reason of their being
always uncertain when they should be obliged to march.
5:3. He did what the Lord had commanded, and he circumcised the
children of Israel in the hill of the foreskins.
5:4. Now this is the cause of the second circumcision:  All the people
that came out of Egypt that were males, all the men fit for war, died
in the desert, during the time of the long going about in the way:
5:6. Now these were all circumcised.  But the people that were born in
5:6. During the forty years of the journey in the wide wilderness, were
uncircumcised:  till all they were consumed that had not heard the voice
of the Lord, and to whom he had sworn before, that he would not shew
them the land flowing with milk and honey.
5:7. The children of these succeeded in the place of their fathers, and
were circumcised by Josue:  for they were uncircumcised even as they
were born, and no one had circumcised them in the way.
5:8. Now after they were all circumcised, they remained in the same
place of the camp, until they were healed.
5:9. And the Lord said to Josue:  This day have I taken away from you
the reproach of Egypt.  And the name of that place was called Galgal,
until this present day.
5:10. And the children of Israel abode in Galgal, and they kept the
phase, on the fourteenth day of the month at evening, in the plains of
5:11. And they ate on the next day unleavened bread of the corn of the
land, and frumenty of the same year.
5:12. And the manna ceased after they ate of the corn of the land,
neither did the children of Israel use that food any more, but they ate
of the corn of the present year of the land of Chanaan.
5:13. And when Josue was in the field of the city of Jericho, he lifted
up his eyes, and saw a man standing over against him, holding a drawn
sword, and he went to him, and said:  Art thou one of ours, or of our
adversaries?
5:14. And he answered:  No:  but I am prince of the host of the Lord, and
now I am come.
Prince of the host of the Lord, etc. . .St. Michael, who is called
prince of the people of Israel, Dan. 10.21.
5:15. Josue fell on his face to the ground.  And worshipping, said:  What
saith my lord to his servant?
Worshipping. . .Not with divine honour, but with a religious veneration
of an inferior kind, suitable to the dignity of his person.
5:16. Loose, saith he, thy shoes from off thy feet:  for the place
whereon thou standest is holy.  And Josue did as was commanded him.
Josue Chapter 6
After seven days' processions, the priests sounding the trumpets, the
walls of Jericho fall down:  and the city is taken and destroyed.
6:1. Now Jericho was close shut up and fenced, for fear of the children
of Israel, and no man durst go out or come in.
6:2. And the Lord said to Josue:  Behold I have given into thy hands
Jericho, and the king thereof, and all the valiant men.
6:3. Go round about the city all ye fighting men once a day:  so shall
ye do for six days.
6:4. And on the seventh day the priests shall take the seven trumpets,
which are used in the jubilee, and shall go before the ark of the
covenant:  and you shall go about the city seven times, and the priests
shall sound the trumpets.
6:5. And when the voice of the trumpet shall give a longer and broken
tune, and shall sound in your ears, all the people shall shout together
with a very great shout, and the walls of the city shall fall to the
ground, and they shall enter in every one at the place against which
they shall stand.
6:6. Then Josue, the son of Nun, called the priests, and said to them:
Take the ark of the covenant:  and let seven other priests take the
seven trumpets of the jubilee, and march before the ark of the Lord.
6:7. And he said to the people:  Go, and compass the city, armed,
marching before the ark of the Lord.
6:8. And when Josue had ended his words, and the seven priests blew the
seven trumpets before the ark of the covenant of the Lord,
6:9. And all the armed men went before, the rest of the common people
followed the ark, and the sound of the trumpets was heard on all sides.
6:10. But Josue had commanded the people, saying:  You shall not shout,
nor shall your voice be heard, nor any word go out of your mouth:  until
the day come wherein I shall say to you:  Cry, and shout.
6:11. So the ark of the Lord went about the city once a day, and
returning into the camp, abode there.
6:12. And Josue rising before day, the priests took the ark of the
6:13. And seven of them seven trumpets, which are used in the jubilee:
and they went before the ark of the Lord, walking and sounding the
trumpets:  and the armed men went before them, and the rest of the
common people followed the ark, and they blew the trumpets.
6:14. And they went round about the city the second day once, and
returned into the camp.  So they did six days.
6:15. But the seventh day, rising up early, they went about the city,
as it was ordered, seven times.
6:16. And when in the seventh going about the priests sounded with the
trumpets, Josue said to all Israel:  Shout:  for the Lord hath delivered
the city to you:
6:17. And let this city be an anathema, and all things that are in it,
to the Lord.  Let only Rahab, the harlot, live, with all that are with
her in the house:  for she hid the messengers whom we sent.
6:18. But beware ye lest you touch ought of those things that are
forbidden, and you be guilty of transgression, and all the camp of
Israel be under sin, and be troubled.
6:19. But whatsoever gold or silver there shall be, or vessels of brass
and iron, let it be consecrated to the Lord, laid up in his treasures.
6:20. So all the people making a shout, and the trumpets sounding, when
the voice and the sound thundered in the ears of the multitude, the
walls forthwith fell down:  and every man went up by the place that was
over against him:  and they took the city,
6:21. And killed all that were in it, man and woman, young and old.  The
oxen also, and the sheep, and the asses, they slew with the edge of the
6:22. But Josue said to the two men that had been sent for spies:  Go
into the harlot's house, and bring her out, and all things that are
hers, as you assured her by oath.
6:23. And the young men went in, and brought out Rahab, and her
parents, her brethren also, and all her goods, and her kindred, and
made them to stay without the camp.
6:24. But they burned the city, and all things that were therein;
except the gold and silver, and vessels of brass and iron, which they
consecrated unto the treasury of the Lord.  _
6:25. But Josue saved Rahab the harlot, and her father's house, and all
she had, and they dwelt in the midst of Israel until this present day:
because she hid the messengers whom he had sent to spy out Jericho.  At
that time, Josue made an imprecation, saying:
6:26. Cursed be the man before the Lord, that shall raise up and build
the city of Jericho.  In his firstborn may he lay the foundation
thereof, and in the last of his children set up its gates.
Cursed, etc. . .Jericho, in the mystical sense, signifies iniquity:  the
sounding of the trumpets by the priests, the preaching of the word of
God; by which the walls of Jericho are thrown down, when sinners are
converted; and a dreadful curse will light on them who build them up
6:27. And the Lord was with Josue, and his name was noised throughout
all the land
Josue Chapter 7
For the sins of Achan, the Israelites are defeated at Hai.  The offender
is found out; and stoned to death, and God's wrath is turned from them.
7:1. But the children of Israel transgressed the commandment, and took
to their own use of that which was accursed.  For Achan, the son of
Charmi, the son of Zabdi, the son of Zare, of the tribe of Juda, took
something of the anathema:  and the Lord was angry against the children
7:2. And when Josue sent men from Jericho against Hai, which is beside
Bethaven, on the east side of the town of Bethel, he said to them:  Go
up, and view the country:  and they fulfilled his command, and viewed
7:3. And returning, they said to him:  Let not all the people go up, but
let two or three thousand men go, and destroy the city:  why should all
the people be troubled in vain, against enemies that are very few?
7:4. There went up therefore three thousand fighting men:  who
immediately turned their backs,
7:5. And were defeated by the men of the city of Hai, and there fell of
them six and thirty men:  and the enemies pursued them from the gate as
far as Sabarim, and they slew them as they fled by the descent:  and the
heart of the people was struck with fear, and melted like water.
7:6. But Josue rent his garments, and fell flat on the ground, before
the ark of the Lord, until the evening, both he and all the ancients of
Israel:  and they put dust upon their heads.
7:7. And Josue said:  Alas, O Lord God, why wouldst thou bring this
people over the river Jordan, to deliver us into the hand of the
Amorrhite, and to destroy us?  would God we had stayed beyond the
Jordan, as we began.
7:8. My Lord God, what shall I say, seeing Israel turning their backs
to their enemies?
7:9. The Chanaanites, and all the inhabitants of the land, will hear of
it, and being gathered together will surround us, and cut off our name
from the earth:  and what wilt thou do to thy great name?
7:10. And the Lord said to Josue:  Arise, why liest thou flat on the
7:11. Israel hath sinned, and transgressed my covenant:  and they have
taken of the anathema, and have stolen and lied, and have hid it among
their goods.
7:12. Neither can Israel stand before his enemies, but he shall flee
from them:  because he is defiled with the anathema.  I will be no more
with you, till you destroy him that is guilty of this wickedness.
7:13. Arise, sanctify the people, and say to them:  Be ye sanctified
against tomorrow:  for thus saith the Lord God of Israel:  The curse is
in the midst of thee, O Israel:  thou canst not stand before thy
enemies, till he be destroyed out of thee, that is defiled with this
7:14. And you shall come in the morning, every one by your tribes:  and
what tribe soever the lot shall find, it shall come by its kindreds,
and the kindred by its houses and tho house by the men.
7:15. And whosoever he be that shall be found guilty of this fact, he
shall be burnt with fire, with all his substance, because he hath
transgressed the covenant of the Lord, and hath done wickedness in
7:16. Josue, therefore, when he rose in the morning, made Israel to
come by their tribes, and the tribe of Juda was found.
7:17. Which being brought by in families, it was found to be the family
of Zare.  Bringing that also by the houses, he found it to be Zabdi:
7:18. And bringing his house man by man, he found Achan, the son of
Charmi, the son of Zabdi, the son of Zare, of the tribe of Juda.
7:19. And Josue said to Achan:  My son, give glory to the Lord God of
Israel, and confess, and tell me what thou hast done, hide it not.
7:20. And Achan answered Josue, and said to him:  Indeed I have sinned
against the Lord, the God of Israel, and thus and thus have I done.
7:21. For I saw among the spoils a scarlet garment, exceeding good, and
two hundred sicles of silver, and a golden rule of fifty sicles:  and I
coveted them, and I took them away, and hid them in the ground in the
midst of my tent, and the silver I covered with the earth that I dug
7:22. Josue therefore sent ministers:  who running to his tent, found
all hid in the same place, together with the silver.
7:23. And taking them away out of the tent, they brought them to Josue,
and to all the children of Israel, and threw them down before the Lord.
7:24. Then Josue, and all Israel with him, took Achan, the son of Zare,
and the silver, and the garment, and the golden rule, his sons also,
and his daughters, his oxen, and asses, and sheep, the tent also, and
all the goods:  and brought them to the valley of Achor:
His sons, etc. . .Probably conscious to, or accomplices of, the crime of
their father.
7:25. Where Josue said:  Because thou hast troubled us, the Lord trouble
thee this day.  And all Israel stoned him:  and all things that were his,
were consumed with fire.
7:26. And they gathered together upon him a great heap of stones, which
remaineth until this present day And the wrath of the Lord was turned
away from them.  And the name of that place was called the Valley of
Achor, until this day.
Achor. . .That is, trouble.
Josue Chapter 8
Hai is taken and burnt, and all the inhabitants slain.  An altar is
built, and sacrifices offered.  The law is written on stones, and the
blessings and cursings are read before all the people.
8:1. And the Lord said to Josue:  Fear not, nor be thou dismayed:  take
with thee all the multitude of fighting men, arise, and go up to the
town of Hai:  Behold I have delivered into thy hand the king thereof,
and the people, and the city, and the land.
8:2. And thou shalt do to the city of Hai, and to the king thereof, as
thou hast done to Jericho, and to the king thereof:  but the spoils, and
all the cattle, you shall take for a prey to yourselves:  lay an ambush
for the city behind it.
8:3. And Josue arose, and all the army of the fighting men with him, to
go up against Hai:  and he sent thirty thousand chosen valiant men in
8:4. And commanded them, saying:  Lay an ambush behind the city:  and go
not very far from it:  and be ye all ready.
8:5. But I, and the rest of the multitude which is with me, will
approach on the contrary side against the city.  And when they shall
come out against us, we will flee, and turn our backs, as we did
8:6. Till they pursuing us be drawn farther from the city:  for they
will think that we flee as before.
8:7. And whilst we are fleeing, and they pursuing, you shall rise out
of the ambush, and shall destroy the city:  and the Lord your God will
deliver it into your hands.
8:8. And when you shall have taken it, set it on fire, and you shall do
all things so as I have commanded.
8:9. And he sent them away, and they went on to the place of the
ambush, and abode between Bethel and Hai, on the west side of the city
of Hai.  But Josue staid that night in the midst of the people,
8:10. And rising early in the morning, he mustered his soldiers, and
went up with the ancients in the front of the army, environed with the
aid of the fighting men.
8:11. And when they were come, and were gone up over against the city,
they stood on the north side of the city, between which and them there
was a valley in the midst.
8:12. And he had chosen five thousand men, and set them to lie in
ambush between Bethel and Hai, on the west side of the same city:
Five thousand. . .These were part of the thirty thousand mentioned
above, ver. 3.
8:13. But all the rest of the army went in battle array on the north
side, so that the last of that multitude reached to the west side of
the city.  So Josue went that night, and stood in the midst of the
8:14. And when the king of Hai saw this, he made haste in the morning,
and went out with all the army of the city, and set it in battle array,
toward the desert, not knowing that there lay an ambush behind his
8:15. But Josue, and all Israel gave back, making as if they were
afraid, and fleeing by the way of the wilderness.
8:16. But they shouting together, and encouraging one another, pursued
them.  And when they were come from the city,
8:17. And not one remained in the city of Hai and of Bethel, that did
not pursue after Israel, leaving the towns open as they had rushed out,
8:18. The Lord said to Josue:  Lift up the shield that is in thy hand,
towards the city of Hai, for I will deliver it to thee.
8:19. And when he had lifted up his shield towards the city, the
ambush, that lay hid, rose up immediately:  and going to the city, took
it, and set it on fire.
8:20. And the men of the city, that pursued after Josue, looking back,
and seeing the smoke of the city rise up to heaven, had no more power
to flee this way or that way:  especially as they that had counterfeited
flight, and were going toward the wilderness, turned back most
valiantly against them that pursued.
8:21. So Josue, and all Israel, seeing that the city was taken, and
that the smoke of the city rose up, returned, and slew the men of Hai.
8:22. And they also that had taken and set the city on fire, issuing
out of the city to meet their own men, began to cut off the enemies who
were surrounded by them.  So that the enemies being cut off on both
sides, not one of so great a multitude was saved.
8:23. And they took the king of the city of Hai alive and brought him
8:24. So all being slain that had pursued after Israel, in his flight
to the wilderness, and falling by the sword in the same place, the
children of Israel returned and laid waste the city.
8:25. And the number of them that fell that day, both of men and women,
was twelve thousand persons, all of the city of Hai.
8:26. But Josue drew not back his hand, which he had stretched out on
high, holding the shield, till all the inhabitants of Hai were slain.
8:27. And the children of Israel divided among them, the cattle and the
prey of the city, as the Lord had commanded Josue.
8:28. And he burnt the city, and made it a heap forever:
8:29. And he hung the king thereof on a gibbet, until the evening and
the going down of the sun.  Then Josue commanded, and they took down his
carcass from the gibbet:  and threw it in the very entrance of the city,
heaping upon it a great heap of stones, which remaineth until this
present day.
8:30. Then Josue built an altar to the Lord, the God of Israel, in
Mount Hebal,
8:31. As Moses, the servant of the Lord, had commanded the children of
Israel, and it is written in the book of the law of Moses:  an altar of
unhewn stones, which iron had not touched:  and he offered upon it
holocausts to the Lord, and immolated victims of peace offerings.
8:32. And he wrote upon stones, the Deuteronomy of the law of Moses,
which he had ordered before the children of Israel.
8:33. And all the people, and the ancients, and the princes, and
judges, stood on both sides of the ark, before the priests that carried
the ark of the covenant of the Lord, both the stranger and he that was
born among them, half of them by Mount Garizim, and half by Mount
Hebal, as Moses the servant of the Lord, had commanded.  And first he
blessed the people of Israel.
8:34. After this, he read all the words of the blessing and the
cursing, and all things that were written in the book of the law.
8:35. He left out nothing of those things which Moses had commanded,
but he repeated all before all the people of Israel, with the women and
children, and strangers, that dwelt among them.
Josue Chapter 9
Josue is deceived by the Gabaonites:  who being detected are condemned
to be perpetual servants.
9:1. Now when these things were heard of, all the kings beyond the
Jordan, that dwelt in the mountains, and in the plains, in the places
near the sea, and on the coasts of the great sea, they also that dwell
by Libanus, the Hethite, and the Amorrhite, the Chanaanite, the
Pherezite, and the Hevite, and the Jebusite,
9:2. Gathered themselves together, to fight against Josue and Israel
with one mind, and one resolution.
9:3. But they that dwelt in Gabaon, hearing all that Josue had done to
Jericho and Hai:
9:4. Cunningly devising took for themselves provisions, laying old
sacks upon their asses, and wine bottles rent and sewed up again,
9:5. And very old shoes, which for a show of age were clouted with
patches, and old garments upon them:  the loaves also, which they
carried for provisions by the way, were hard, and broken into pieces:
9:6. And they went to Josue, who then abode in the camp at Galgal, and
said to him, and to all Israel with him:  We are come from a far
country, desiring to make peace with you.  And the children of Israel
answered them, and said:
9:7. Perhaps you dwell in the land which falls to our lot; if so, we
can make no league with you.
9:8. But they said to Josue:  We are thy servants.  Josue said to them:
Who are you?  and whence came you?
9:9. They answered:  From a very far country thy servants are come in
the name of the Lord thy God.  For we have heard the fame of his power,
all the things that he did in Egypt.
9:10. And to the two kings of the Amorrhites, that were beyond the
Jordan, Sehon, king of Hesebon, and Og, king of Basan, that was in
9:11. And our ancients, and all the inhabitants of our country, said to
us:  Take with you victuals for a long way, and go meet them, and say:
We are your servants, make ye a league with us.
9:12. Behold, these loaves we took hot, when we set out from our houses
to come to you, now they are become dry, and broken in pieces by being
exceeding old.
9:13. These bottles of wine when we filled them were new, now they are
rent and burst.  These garments we have on, and the shoes we have on our
feet, by reason of the very long journey, are worn out, and almost
9:14. They took therefore of their victuals, and consulted not the
mouth of the Lord.
9:15. And Josue made peace with them, and entering into a league,
promised that they should not be slain:  the princes also of the
multitude swore to them.
9:16. Now three days after the league was made, they heard that they
dwelt nigh, and they should be among them.
9:17. And the children of Israel removed the camp, and came into their
cities on the third day, the names of which are, Gabaon, and Caphira,
and Beroth, and Cariathiarim.
9:18. And they slew them not, because the princes of the multitude had
sworn in the name of the Lord, the God of Israel.  Then all the common
people murmured against the princes.
9:19. And they answered them:  We have sworn to them in the name of the
Lord, the God of Israel, and therefore we may not touch them.
9:20. But this we will do to them:  Let their lives be saved, lest the
wrath of the Lord be stirred up against us, if we should be forsworn:
9:21. But so let them live, as to serve the whole multitude in hewing
wood, and bringing in water.  As they were speaking these things,
9;22. Josue called the Gabaonites, and said to them:  Why would you
impose upon us, saying:  We dwell very far off from you, whereas you are
in the midst of us?
9:23. Therefore you shall be under a curse, and your race shall always
be hewers of wood, and carriers of water, into the house of my God.
9:24. They answered:  It was told us, thy servants, that the Lord thy
God had promised his servant Moses, to give you all the land, and to
destroy all the inhabitants thereof.  Therefore we feared exceedingly
and provided for our lives, compelled by the dread we had of you, and
we took this counsel.
9:25. And now we are in thy hand:  deal with us as it seemeth good and
right unto thee.
9:26. So Josue did as he had said, and delivered them from the hand of
the children of Israel, that they should not be slain.
9:27. And he gave orders in that day, that they should be in the
service of all the people, and of the altar of the Lord, hewing wood,
and carrying water, until this present time, in the place which the
Lord hath chosen.
Josue Chapter 10
Five kings war against Gabaon.  Josue defeateth them:  many are slain
with hailstones.  At the prayer of Josue the sun and moon stand still
the space of one day.  The five kings are hanged.  Divers cities are
10:1. When Adonisedec, king of Jerusalem, had heard these things, to
wit, that Josue had taken Hai, and had destroyed it, (for as he had
done to Jericho and the king thereof, so did he to Hai and its king)
and that the Gabaonites were gone over to Israel, and were their
confederates,
10:2. He was exceedingly afraid.  For Gabaon was a great city, and one
of the royal cities, and greater than the town of Hai, and all its
fighting men were most valiant.
10:3. Therefore Adonisedec, king of Jerusalem, sent to Oham, king of
Hebron, and to Pharam, king of Jerimoth, and to Japhia, king of Lachis,
and to Dabir, king of Eglon, saying:
10:4. Come up to me, and bring help, that we may take Gabaon, because
it hath gone over to Josue, and to the children of Israel.
10:5. So the five kings of the Amorrhites being assembled together,
went up:  the king of Jerusalem, the king of Hebron, the king of
Jerimoth, the king of Lachis, the king of Eglon, they and their armies,
and camped about Gabaon, laying siege to it.
10:6. But the inhabitants of the city of Gabaon, which was besieged,
sent to Josue, who then abode in the camp at Galgal, and said to him:
Withdraw not thy hands from helping thy servants:  come up quickly, and
save us, and bring us succour:  for all the kings of the Amorrhites, who
dwell in the mountains, are gathered together against us.
10:7. And Josue went up from Galgal, and all the army of the warriors
with him, most valiant men.
10:8. But the Lord said to Josue:  Fear them not:  for I have delivered
them into thy hands:  none of them shall be able to stand against thee.
10:9. So Josue going up from Galgal all the night, came upon them
10:10. And the Lord troubled them, at the sight of Israel:  and he slew
them with a great slaughter, in Gabaon, and pursued them by the way of
the ascent to Bethoron, and cut them off all the way to Azeca and
10:11. And when they were fleeing from the children of Israel, and were
in the descent of Bethoron, the Lord cast down upon them great stones
from heaven, as far as Azeca:  and many more were killed with the
hailstones, than were slain by the swords of the children of Israel,
10:12. Then Josue spoke to the Lord, in the day that he delivered the
Amorrhite in the sight of the children of Israel, and he said before
them:  Move not, O sun, toward Gabaon, nor thou, O moon, toward the
valley of Ajalon.
10:13. And the sun and the moon stood still, till the people revenged
themselves of their enemies.  Is not this written in the book of the
just?  So the sun stood still in the midst of heaven, and hasted not to
go down the space of one day.
The book of the just. . .In Hebrew Jasher:  an ancient book long since
10:14. There was not before, nor after, so long a day, the Lord obeying
the voice of a man, and fighting for Israel.
10:15. And Josue returned, with all Israel, into the camp of Galgal.
10:16. For the five kings were fled, and had hid themselves in a cave
of the city of Maceda.
10:17. And it was told Josue, that the five kings were found hid in a
cave of the city of Maceda.
10:18. And he commanded them that were with him, saying:  Roll great
stones to the mouth of the cave, and set careful men to keep them shut
10:19. And stay you not, but pursue after the enemies, and kill all the
hindermost of them as they flee, and do not suffer them whom the Lord
God hath delivered into your hands, to shelter themselves in their
10:20. So the enemies being slain with a great slaughter, and almost
utterly consumed, they that were able to escape from Israel, entered
into fenced cities.
10:21. And all the army returned to Josue, in Maceda, where the camp
then was, in good health, and without the loss of any one:  and no man
durst move his tongue against the children of Israel.
10:22. And Josue gave orders, saying:  Open the mouth of the cave, and
bring forth to me the five kings that lie hid therein.
10:23. And the ministers did as they were commanded:  and they brought
out to him the five kings out of the cave:  the king of Jerusalem, the
king of Hebron, the king of Jerimoth, the king of Lachis, the king of
10:24. And when they were brought out to him, he called all the men of
Israel, and said to the chiefs of the army that were with him:  Go, and
set your feet on the necks of these kings.  And when they had gone, and
put their feet upon the necks of them lying under them,
10:25. He said again to them:  Fear not, neither be ye dismayed, take
courage, and be strong:  for so will the Lord do to all your enemies,
against whom you fight.
10:26. And Josue struck, and slew them, and hanged them upon five
gibbets; and they hung until the evening.
10:27. And when the sun was down, he commanded the soldiers to take
them down from the gibbets.  And after they were taken down, they cast
them into the cave, where they had lain hid, and put great stones at
the mouth thereof, which remain until this day.
10:28. The same day Josue took Maceda, and destroyed it with the edge
of the sword, and killed the king and all the inhabitants thereof:  he
left not in it the least remains.  And he did to the king of Maceda, as
he had done to the king of Jericho.
10:29. And he passed from Maceda with all Israel to Lebna, and fought
10:30. And the Lord delivered it with the king thereof into the hands
of Israel:  and they destroyed the city with the edge of the sword, and
all the inhabitants thereof.  They left not in it any remains.  And they
did to the king of Lebna, as they had done to the king of Jericho.
10:31. From Lebna he passed unto Lachis, with all Israel:  and investing
it with his army, besieged it.
10:32. And the Lord delivered Lachis into the hands of Israel, and he
took it the following day, and put it to the sword, and every soul that
was in it, as he had done to Lebna.
10:33. At that time Horam, king of Gazer, came up to succour Lachis:
and Josue slew him with all his people so as to leave none alive.
10:34. And he passed from Lachis to Eglon, and surrounded it,
10:35. And took it the same day:  and put to the sword all the souls
that were in it, according to all that he had done to Lachis.
10:36. He went up also with all Israel from Eglon to Hebron, and fought
10:37. Took it, and destroyed it with the edge of the sword:  the king
also thereof, and all the towns of that country, and all the souls that
dwelt in it:  he left not therein any remains:  as he had done to Eglon,
so did he also to Hebron, putting to the sword all that he found in it.
The king. . .Viz., the new king, who succeeded him that was slain, ver.
10:38. Returning from thence to Dabir,
10:39. He took it, and destroyed it:  the king also thereof, and all the
towns round about, he destroyed with the edge of the sword:  he left not
in it any remains:  as he had done to Hebron and Lebna, and to their
kings, so did he to Dabir, and to the king thereof.
10:40. So Josue conquered all the country of the hills, and of the
south, and of the plain, and of Asedoth, with their kings:  he left not
any remains therein, but slew all that breathed, as the Lord, the God
of Israel, had commanded him.
Any remains therein, but slew, etc. . .God ordered these people to be
utterly destroyed, in punishment of their manifold abomination; and
that they might not draw the Israelites into the like sins.
10:41. From Cadesbarne even to Gaza.  All the land of Gosen even to
10:42. And all their kings, and their lands he took and wasted at one
onset:  for the Lord the God of Israel fought for him.
10:43. And he returned with all Israel to the place of the camp in
Josue Chapter 11
The kings of the north are overthrown:  the whole country is taken.
11:1. And when Jabin king of Asor had heard these things, he sent to
Jobab king of Madon, and to the king of Semeron, and to the king of
11:2. And to the kings of the north, that dwelt in the mountains and in
the plains over against the south side of Ceneroth, and in the levels
and the countries of Dor by the sea side:
11:3. To the Chanaanites also on the east and on the west, and the
Amorrhite, and the Hethite, and the Pherezite, and the Jebusite in the
mountains:  to the Hevite also who dwelt at the foot of Hermon in the
land of Maspha.
11:4. And they all came out with their troops, a people exceeding
numerous as the sand that is on the sea shore, their horses also and
chariots a very great multitude,
11:5. And all these kings assembled together at the waters of Merom, to
fight against Israel.
11:6. And the Lord said to Josue:  Fear them not:  for to morrow at this
same hour I will deliver all these to be slain in the sight of Israel:
thou shalt hamstring their horses, and thou shalt burn their chariots
Hamstring their horses, and burn their chariots with fire, etc. . .God
so ordained, that his people might not trust in chariots and horses,
11:7. And Josue came, and all the army with him, against them to the
waters of Merom on a sudden, and fell upon them.
11:8. And the Lord delivered them into the hands of Israel.  And they
defeated them, and chased them as far as the great Sidon and the waters
of Maserophot, and the field of Masphe, which is on the east thereof.
He slew them all, so as to leave no remains of them:
11:9. And he did as the Lord had commanded him, he hamstringed their
horses and burned their chariots.
11:10. And presently turning back he took Asor:  and slew the king
thereof with the sword.  Now Asor of old was the head of all these
11:11. And he cut off all the souls that abode there:  he left not in it
any remains, but utterly destroyed all, and burned the city itself with
11:12. And he took and put to the sword and destroyed all the cities
round about, and their kings, as Moses the servant of God had commanded
11:13. Except the cities that were on hills and high places, the rest
Israel burned:  only Asor that was very strong he consumed with fire.
11:14. And the children of Israel divided among themselves all the
spoil of these cities and the cattle, killing all the men.
11:15. As the Lord had commanded Moses his servant, so did Moses
command Josue, and he accomplished all:  he left not one thing undone of
all the commandments which the Lord had commanded Moses.
11:16. So Josue took all the country of the hills, and of the south,
and the land of Gosen, and the plains and the west country, and the
mountain of Israel, and the plains thereof:
11:17. And part of the mountain that goeth up to Seir as far as
Baalgad, by the plain of Libanus under mount Hermon:  all their kings he
took, smote and slew.
11:18. Josue made war a long time against these kings.
A long time. . .Seven years, as appears from chap. 14.10.
11:19. There was not a city that delivered itself to the children of
Israel, except the Hevite, who dwelt in Gabaon:  for he took all by
11:20. For it was the sentence of the Lord, that their hearts should be
hardened, and they should fight against Israel, and fall, and should
not deserve any clemency, and should be destroyed as the Lord had
commanded Moses.
Hardened. . .This hardening of their hearts, was their having no thought
of yielding or submitting:  which was a sentence or judgment of God upon
them in punishment of their enormous crimes.
11:21. At that time Josue came and cut off the Enancims from the
mountains, from Hebron, and Dabir, and Anab, and from all the mountain
of Juda and Israel, and destroyed their cities.
11:22. He left not any of the stock of the Enacims, in the land of the
children of Israel:  except the cities of Gaza, and Geth, and Azotus, in
which alone they were left.
11:23. So Josue took all the land, as the Lord spoke to Moses, and
delivered it in possession to the children of Israel, according to
their divisions and tribes.  And the land rested from wars.
Josue Chapter 12
A list of the kings slain by Moses and Josue,
12:1. These are the kings, whom the children of Israel slew and
possessed their land beyond the Jordan towards the rising of the sun,
from the torrent Arnon unto mount Hermon, and all the east country that
looketh towards the wilderness.
12:2. Sehon king of the Amorrhites, who dwelt in Hesebon, and had
dominion from Aroer, which is seated upon the bank of the torrent
Arnon, and of the middle part in the valley, and of half Galaad, as far
as the torrent Jaboc, which is the border of the children of Ammon.
12:3. And from the wilderness, to the sea of Ceneroth towards the east,
and to the sea of the wilderness, which is the most salt sea, on the
east side by the way that leadeth to Bethsimoth:  and on the south side
that lieth under Asedoth, Phasga.
12:4. The border of Og the king of Basan, of the remnant of the
Raphaims who dwelt in Astaroth, and in Edrai, and had dominion in mount
Hermon, and in Salecha, and in all Basan, unto the borders
12:5. Of Gessuri and Machati, and of half Galaad:  the borders of Sehon
the king of Hesebon.
12:6. Moses the servant of the Lord, and the children of Israel slew
them, and Moses delivered their land in possession to the Rubenites,
and Gadites, and the half tribe of Manasses.
12:7. These are the kings of the land, whom Josue and the children of
Israel slew beyond the Jordan on the west side from Baalgad in the
field of Libanus, unto the mount, part of which goeth up into Seir:  and
Josue delivered it in possession to the tribes of Israel, to every one
their divisions,
12:8. As well in the mountains as in the plains and the champaign
countries.  In Asedoth, and in the wilderness, and in the south was the
Hethite and the Amorrhite, the Chanaanite and the Pherezite, the Hevite
and the Jebusite.
12:9. The king of Jericho one:  the king of Hai, which is on the side of
Bethel, one:
12:10. The king of Jerusalem one, the king of Hebron one,
12:11. The king of Jerimoth one, thee king of Lachis one,
12:12. The king of Eglon one, the king of Gazer one,
12:13. The king of Dabir one, the king of Gader one,
12:14. The king of Herma one, the king of Hered one,
12:15. The king of Lebna one, the king of Odullam one,
12:16. The king of Maceda one, the king of Bethel one,
12:17. The king of Taphua one, the king of Opher one,
12:18. The king of Aphec one, the king of Saron one,
12:19. The king of Madon one, the king of Asor one,
12:20. The king of Semeron one, the king of Achsaph one,
12:21. The king of Thenac one, the king of Mageddo one,
12:22. Thee king of Cades one, the king of Jachanan of Carmel one,
12:23. The king of Dor, and of the province of Dor one, the king of the
nations of Galgal one,
12:24. The king of Thersa one:  all the kings thirty and one.
Josue Chapter 13
God commandeth Josue to divide the land:  the possessions of Ruben, Gad,
and half the tribe of Manasses, beyond the Jordan.
13:1. Josue was old, and far advanced in years, and the Lord said to
him:  Thou art grown old, and advanced in age, and there is a very large
country left, which is not yet divided by lot:
Josue was old, and far advanced in years. . .He was then about one
hundred and one years old.--And there is a very large country left,
which is not yet divided by lot. . .Not yet possessed by the children of
13:2. To wit, all Galilee, Philistia, and all Gessuri.
13:3. From the troubled river, that watereth Egypt, unto the border of
Accaron northward:  the land of Chanaan, which is divided among the
lords of the Philistines, the Gazites, the Azotians, the Ascalonites,
the Gethites, and the Accronites.
13:4. And on the south side are the Hevites, all the land of Chanaan,
and Maara of the Sidonians as far as Apheca, and the borders of the
13:5. And his confines.  The country also of Libanus towards the east
from Baalgad under mount Hermon to the entering into Emath.
13:6. Of all that dwell in the mountains from Libanus, to the waters of
Maserephoth, and all the Sidonians.  I am he that will cut them off from
before the face of the children of Israel.  So let their land come in as
a part of the inheritance of Israel, as I have commanded thee.
13:7. And now divide the land in possession to the nine tribes, and to
the half tribe of Manasses,
13:8. With whom Ruben and Gad have possessed the land, which Moses the
servant of the Lord delivered to them beyond the river Jordan, on the
With whom. . .That is, with the other half of that same tribe.
13:9. From Aroer, which is upon the bank of the torrent Arnon, and in
the midst of the valley and all the plains of Medaba, as far as Dibon:
13:10. And all the cities of Sehon, king of the Amorrhites, who reigned
in Hesebon, unto the borders of the children of Ammon.
13:11. And Galaad, and the borders of Gessuri and Machati, and all
mount Hermon, and all Basan as far as Salecha,
13:12. All the kingdom of Og in Basan, who reigned in Astaroth and
Edrai, he was of the remains of the Raphaims:  and Moses overthrew and
destroyed them.
13:13. And the children of Israel would not destroy Gessuri and Machati
and they have dwelt in the midst of Israel, until this present day.
13:14. But to the tribe of Levi he gave no possession:  but the
sacrifices and victims of thee Lord God of Israel, are his inheritance,
as he spoke to him.
13:15. And Moses gave a possession to the children of Ruben according
to their kindreds.
13:16. And their border was from Aroer, which is on the bank of the
torrent Arnon, and in the midst of the valley of the same torrent:  all
the plain, that leadeth to Medaba,
13:17. And Hesebon, and all their villages, which are in the plains.
Dibon also, and Bamothbaal, and the town of Baalmaon,
13:18. And Jassa, and Cidimoth, and Mephaath,
13:19. And Cariathaim, and Sabama, and Sarathasar in the mountain of
13:20. Bethphogor and Asedoth, Phasga and Bethiesimoth,
13:21. And all the cities of the plain, and all the kingdoms of Sehon
king of the Amorrhites, that reigned in Hesebon, whom Moses slew with
the princes of Madian:  Hevi, and Recem, and Sur and Hur, and Rebe,
dukes of Sehon inhabitants of the land.
The princes of Madian. . .It appears from hence that these were subjects
of king Sehon:  they are said to have been slain with him, that is,
about the same time, but not in the same battle.
13:22. Balaam also the son of Beor the soothsayer, the children of
Israel slew with the sword among the rest that were slain.
13:23. And the river Jordan was the border of the children of Ruben.
This is the possession of the Rubenites, by their kindreds, of cities
and villages.
13:24. And Moses gave to the tribe of Gad and to his children by their
kindreds a possession, of which this is the division.
13:25. The border of Jaser, and all the cities of Galaad, and half the
land of the children of Ammon:  as far as Aroer which is over against
13:26. And from Hesebon unto Ramoth, Masphe and Betonim:  and from
Manaim unto the borders of Dabir.
13:27. And in the valley Betharan and Bethnemra, and Socoth, and Saphon
the other part of the kingdom of Sehon king of Hesebon:  the limit of
this also is the Jordan, as far as the uttermost part of the sea of
Cenereth beyond the Jordan on the east side,
13:28. This is the possession of the children of Gad by their families,
their cities, and villages.
13:29. He gave also to the half tribe of Manasses and his children
possession according to their kindreds,
13:30. The beginning whereof is this:  from Manaim all Basan, and all
the kingdoms of Og king of Basan, and all the villages of Jair, which
are in Basan, threescore towns.
13:31. And half Galaad, and Astaroth, and Edrai, cities of the kingdom
of Og in Basan:  to the children of Machir, the son of Manasses, to one
half of the children of Machir according to their kindreds.
13:32. This possession Moses divided in the plains of Moab, beyond the
Jordan, over against Jericho on the east side,
13:33. But to the tribe of Levi he gave no possession:  because the Lord
the God of Israel himself is their possession, as he spoke to them.
Josue Chapter 14
Caleb's petition; Hebron is given to him and to his seed.
14:1. This is what the children of Israel possessed in the land of
Chanaan, which Eleazar the priest, and Josue the son of Nun, and the
princes of the families by the tribes of Israel gave to them.
14:2. Dividing all by lot, as the Lord had commanded the hand of Moses,
to the nine tribes, and the half tribe.
14:3. For to two tribes and a half Moses had given possession beyond
the Jordan:  besides the Levites, who received no land among their
14:4. But in their place succeeded the children of Joseph divided into
two tribes, of Manasses and Ephraim:  neither did the Levites receive
other portion of land, but cities to dwell in, and their suburbs to
feed their beasts and flocks.
Hebron belonged, etc. . .All the country thereabouts, depending on
Hebron, was given to Caleb; but the city itself with the suburbs, was
one of those that were given to the priests to dwell in.
14:5. As the Lord had commanded Moses so did the children of Israel,
and they divided the land.
14:6. Then the children of Juda came to Josue in Galgal, and Caleb the
son of Jephone the Cenezite spoke to him:  Thou knowest what the Lord
spoke to Moses the man of God concerning me and thee in Cadesbarne.
14:7. I was forty years old when Moses the servant of the Lord sent me
from Cadesbarne, to view the land, and I brought him word again as to
me seemed true,
14:8. But my brethren, that had gone up with me, discouraged the heart
of the people:  and I nevertheless followed the Lord my God.
14:9. And Moses swore in that day, saying:  The land which thy foot hath
trodden upon shall be thy possession, and thy children for ever,
because thou hast followed the Lord my God.
14:10. The Lord therefore hath granted me life, as he promised until
this present day, It is forty and five years since the Lord spoke this
word to Moses, when Israel journeyed through the wilderness:  this day I
am eighty-five years old,
14:11. As strong as I was at that time when I was sent to view the
land:  the strength of that time continueth in me until this day, as
well to fight as to march.
14:12. Give me therefore this mountain, which the Lord promised, in thy
hearing also, wherein are the Enacims, and cities great and strong:  if
so be the Lord will be with me, and I shall be able to destroy them, as
he promised me.
14:13. And Josue blessed him, and gave him Hebron in possession.
14:14. And from that time Hebron belonged to Caleb the son of Jephone
the Cenezite, until this present day:  because he followed the Lord the
God of Israel.
14:15. The name of Hebron before was called Cariath-Arbe:  Adam the
greatest among the Enacims was laid there and the land rested from
Josue Chapter 15
The borders of the lot of Juda.  Caleb's portion and conquest.  The
cities of Juda.
15:1. Now the lot of the children of Juda by their kindreds was this:
From the frontier of Edom, to the desert of Sin southward, and to the
uttermost part of the south coast.
15:2. Its beginning was from the top of the most salt sea, and from the
bay thereof, that looketh to the south.
15:3. And it goeth out towards the ascent of the Scorpion, and passeth
on to Sina:  and ascendeth into Cadesbarne, and reacheth into Esron,
going up to Addar, and compassing Carcaa.
15:4. And from thence passing along into Asemona, and reaching the
torrent of Egypt:  and the bounds thereof shall be the great sea, this
shall be the limit of the south coast.
15:5. But on the east side the beginning shall be the most salt sea
even to the end of the Jordan:  and towards the north from the bay of
the sea unto the same river Jordan.
15:6. And the border goeth up into Beth-Hagla, and passeth by the north
into Beth-Araba:  going up to the stone of Boen the son of Ruben.
15:7. And reaching as far as the borders of Debara from the valley of
Achor, and so northward looking towards Galgal, which is opposite to
the ascent of Adommin, on the south side of the torrent, and the border
passeth the waters that are called the fountain of the sun:  and the
goings out thereof shall be at the fountain Rogel.
15:8. And it goeth up by the valley of the son of Ennom on the side of
the Jebusite towards the south, the same is Jerusalem:  and thence
ascending to the top of the mountain, which is over against Geennom to
the west in the end of the valley of Raphaim, northward.
15:9. And it passeth on from the top of the mountain to the fountain of
the water of Nephtoa:  and reacheth to the towns of mount Ephron:  and it
bendeth towards Baala, which is Cariathiarim, that is to say, the city
of the woods.
15:10. And it compasseth from Baala westward unto mount Seir:  and
passeth by the side of mount Jarim to the north into Cheslon:  and goeth
down into Bethsames, and passeth into Thamna.
15:11. And reacheth northward to a part of Accaron at the side:  and
bendeth to Sechrona, and passeth mount Baala:  and cometh into Jebneel,
and is bounded westward with the great sea.
15:12. These are the borders round about of the children of Juda in
their kindreds.
15:13. But to Caleb the son of Jephone he gave a portion in the midst
of the children of Juda, as the Lord had commanded him:  Cariath-Arbe
the father of Enac, which is Hebron.
15:14. And Caleb destroyed out of it the three sons of Enac, Sesai and
Ahiman, and Tholmai of the race of Enac.
15:15. And going up from thence he came to the inhabitants of Dabir,
which before was called Cariath-Sepher, that is to say, the city of
15:16. And Caleb said:  He that shall smite Cariath-Sepher, and take it,
I will give him Axa my daughter to wife.
15:17. And Othoniel the son of Cenez, the younger brother of Caleb,
took it:  and he gave him Axa his daughter to wife.
15:18. And as they were going together, she was moved by her husband to
ask a field of her father, and she sighed as she sat on her ass.  And
Caleb said to her:  What aileth thee?
15:19. But she answered:  Give me a blessing:  thou hast given me a
southern and dry land, give me also a land that Is watered.  And Caleb
gave her the upper and the nether watery ground.
15:20. This is the possession of the tribe of the children of Juda by
their kindreds.
15:21. And the cities from the uttermost parts of the children of Juda
by the borders of Edom to the south, were Cabseel and Eder and Jagur,
15:22. And Cina and Dimona and Adada,
15:23. And Cades and Asor and Jethnam,
15:24. Ziph and Telem and Baloth,
15:25. New Asor and Carioth, Hesron, which is Asor.
15:26. Amam, Sama and Molada,
15:27. And Asergadda and Hassemon and Bethphelet,
15:28. And Hasersual and Bersabee and Baziothia,
15:29. And Baala and Jim and Esem,
15:30. And Eltholad and Cesil and Harma,
15:31. And Siceleg and Medemena and Sensenna,
15:32. Lebaoth and Selim and Aen and Remmon:  all the cities
twenty-nine, and their villages.
15:33. But in the plains:  Estaol and Sarea and Asena,
15:34. And Zanoe and Engannim and Taphua and Enaim,
15:35. And Jerimoth and Adullam, Socho and Azeca,
15:36. And Saraim and Adithaim and Gedera and Gederothaim:  fourteen
cities, and their villages.
15:37. Sanan and Hadassa and Magdalgad,
15:38. Delean and Masepha and Jecthel,
15:39. Lachis and Bascath and Eglon,
15:40. Chebbon and Leheman and Cethlis,
15:41. And Gideroth and Bethdagon and Naama and Maceda:  sixteen cities,
and their villages.
15:42. Labana and Ether and Asan,
15:43. Jephtha and Esna and Nesib,
15:44. And Ceila and Achzib and Maresa:  nine cities, and their
15:45. Accaron with the towns and villages thereof.
15:46. From Accaron even to the sea:  all places that lie towards Azotus
and the villages thereof.
15:47. Azotus with its towns and villages.  Gaza with its towns and
villages, even to the torrent of Egypt, and the great sea that is the
border thereof.
15:48. And in the mountain Samir and Jether and Socoth,
15:49. And Danna and Cariath-senna, this is Dabir:
15:50. Anab and Istemo and Anim,
15:51. Gosen and Olon and Gilo:  eleven cities and their villages.
15:52. Arab and Ruma and Esaan,
15:53. And Janum and Beththaphua and Apheca,
15:54. Athmatha and Cariath-Arbe, this is Hebron and Sior:  nine cities
and their villages.
15:55. Maon and Carmel and Ziph and Jota,
15:56. Jezrael and Jucadam and Zanoe,
15:57. Accain, Gabaa and Thamna:  ten cities and their villages.
15:58. Halhul, and Bessur, and Gedor,
15:59. Mareth, and Bethanoth, and Eltecon:  six cities and their
15:60. Cariathbaal, the same is Cariathiarim the city of woods, and
Arebba:  two cities and their villages.
15:61. In the desert Betharaba, Meddin and Sachacha,
15:62. And Nebsan, and the city of salt, and Engaddi:  six cities and
their villages.
15:63. But the children of Juda could not destroy the Jebusite that
dwelt in Jerusalem:  and the Jebusite dwelt with the children of Juda in
Jerusalem until this present day.
Josue Chapter 16
The lot of the sons of Joseph.  The borders of the tribe of Ephraim.
16:1. And the lot of the sons of Joseph fell from the Jordan over
against Jericho and the waters thereof, on the east:  the wilderness
which goeth up from Jericho to the mountain of Bethel:
16:2. And goeth out from Bethel to Luza:  and passeth the border of
Archi, to Ataroth,
16:3. And goeth down westward, by the border of Jephleti, unto the
borders of Beth-horon the nether, and to Gazer:  and the countries of it
are ended by the great sea:
16:4. And Manasses and Ephraim the children of Joseph possessed it.
16:5. And the border of the children of Ephraim was according to their
kindreds:  and their possession towards the east was Ataroth-addar unto
Beth-horon the upper.
16:6. And the confines go out unto the sea:  but Machmethath looketh to
the north, and it goeth round the borders eastward into Thanath-selo:
and passeth along on the east side to Janoe.
Looketh to the north, etc. . .The meaning is, that the border went
towards the north, by Machmethath; and then turned eastward to
Thanath-selo.
16:7. And it goeth down from Janoe into Ataroth and Naaratha:  and it
cometh to Jericho, and goeth out to the Jordan.
16:8. From Taphua it passeth on towards the sea into the valley of
reeds, and the goings out thereof are at the most salt sea.  This is the
possession of the tribe of the children of Ephraim by their families.
16:9. And there were cities with their villages separated for the
children of Ephraim in the midst of the possession of the children of
16:10. And the children of Ephraim slew not the Chanaanite, who dwelt
in Gazer:  and the Chanaanite dwelt in the midst of Ephraim until this
day, paying tribute.
Josue Chapter 17
The lot of the half tribe of Manasses.
17:1. And this lot fell to the tribe of Manasses for he is the
firstborn of Joseph to Machir the firstborn of Manasses the father of
Galaad, who was a warlike man, and had for possession Galaad and Basan.
17:2. And to the rest of the children of Manasses according to their
families:  to the children of Abiezer, and to the children of Helec, and
to the children of Esriel, and to the children of Sechem, and to the
children of Hepher, and to the children of Semida:  these are the male
children of Manasses the son of Joseph, by their kindreds.
17:3. But Salphaad the son of Hepher the son of Galaad the son of
Machir the son of Manasses had no sons, but only daughters:  whose names
are these, Maala and Noa and Hegla and Melcha and Thersa.
17:4. And they came in the presence of Eleazar the priest and of Josue
the son of Nun, and of the princes, saying:  The Lord commanded by the
hand of Moses, that a possession should be given us in the midst of our
brethren.  And he gave them according to the commandment of the Lord a
possession amongst the brethren of their father.
17:5. And there fell ten portions to Manasses, beside the land of
Galaad and Basan beyond the Jordan.
17:6. For the daughters of Manasses possessed inheritance in the midst
of his sons.  And the land of Galaad fell to the lot of the rest of the
children of Manasses.
17:7. And the border of Manasses was from Aser, Machmethath which
looketh towards Sichem:  and it goeth out on the right hand by the
inhabitants of the fountain of Taphua.
17:8. For the lot of Manasses took in the land of Taphua, which is on
the borders of Manasses, and belongs to the children of Ephraim.
17:9. And the border goeth down to the valley of the reeds, to the
south of the torrent of the cities of Ephraim, which are in the midst
of the cities of Manasses:  the border of Manasses is on the north side
of the torrent, and the outgoings of it are at the sea:
17:10. So that the possession of Ephraim is on the south, and on the
north that of Manasses, and the sea is the border of both, and they are
joined together in the tribe of Aser on the north, and in the tribe of
Issachar on the east.
17:11. And the inheritance of Manasses in Issachar and in Aser, was
Bethsan and its villages, and Jeblaam with its villages, and the
inhabitants of Dor, with the towns thereof:  the inhabitants also of
Endor with the villages thereof:  and in like manner the inhabitants of
Thenac with the villages thereof:  and the inhabitants of Mageddo with
their villages, and the third part of the city of Nopheth.
17:12. Neither could the children of Manasses overthrow these cities,
but the Chanaanite began to dwell in his land.
17:13. But after that the children of Israel were grown strong, they
subdued the Chanaanites, and made them their tributaries, and they did
not kill them.
17:14. And the children of Joseph spoke to Josue, and said:  Why hast
thou given me but one lot and one portion to possess, whereas I am of
so great a multitude, and the Lord hath blessed me?
17:15. And Josue said to them:  If thou be a great people, go up into
the woodland, and cut down room for thyself in the land of the
Pherezite and the Raphaims:  because the possession of mount Ephraim is
too narrow for thee.
17:16. And the children of Joseph answered him:  We cannot go up to the
mountains, for the Chanaanites that dwell in the low lands, wherein are
situate Bethsan with its towns, and Jezrael in the midst of the valley,
have chariots of iron.
17:17. And Josue said to the house of Joseph, to Ephraim and Manasses:
Thou art a great people, and of great strength, thou shalt not have one
17:18. But thou shalt pass to the mountain, and shalt cut down the
wood, and make thyself room to dwell in:  and mayst proceed farther,
when thou hast destroyed the Chanaanites, who as thou sayest have iron
chariots, and are very strong.
Josue Chapter 18
Surveyors are sent to divide the rest of the land into seven tribes.
The lot of Benjamin.
18:1. And all the children of Israel assembled together in Silo, and
there they set up the tabernacle of the testimony, and the land was
subdued before them.
18:2. But there remained seven tribes of the children of Israel, which
as yet had not received their possessions.
18:3. And Josue said to them:  How long are you indolent and slack, and
go not in to possess the land which the Lord the God of your fathers
hath given you?
18:4. Choose of every tribe three men, that I may send them, and they
may go and compass the land, and mark it out according to the number of
each multitude:  and bring back to me what they have marked out.
18:5. Divide to yourselves the land into seven parts:  let Juda be in
his bounds on the south side, and the house of Joseph on the north.
18:6. The land in the midst between these mark ye out into seven parts;
and you shall come hither to me, that I may cast lots for you before
the Lord your God.
The land in the midst between these mark ye out into seven
parts. . .That is to say, the rest of the land, which is not already
assigned to Juda or Joseph.
18:7. For the Levites have no part among you, but the priesthood of the
Lord is their inheritance.  And Gad and Ruben, and the half tribe of
Manasses have already received their possessions beyond the Jordan
eastward:  which Moses the servant of the Lord gave them.
18:8. And when the men were risen up, to go to mark out the land, Josue
commanded them saying:  Go round the land and mark it out, and return to
me:  that I may cast lots for you before the Lord in Silo.
18:9. So they went and surveying it divided it into seven parts,
writing them down in a book.  And they returned to Josue, to the camp in
18:10. And he cast lots before the Lord in Silo, and divided the land
to the children of Israel into seven parts.
18:11. And first came up the lot of the children of Benjamin by their
families, to possess the land between the children of Juda, and the
children of Joseph.
18:12. And their border northward was from the Jordan:  going along by
the side of Jericho on the north side, and thence going up westward to
the mountains, and reaching to the wilderness of Bethaven,
18:13. And passing along southward by Luza, the same is Bethel, and it
goeth down into Ataroth-addar to the mountain, that is on the south of
the nether Beth-horon.
18:14. And it bendeth thence going round towards the sea, south of the
mountain that looketh towards Beth-horon to the southwest:  and the
outgoings thereof are into Cariathbaal, which is called also
Cariathiarim, a city of the children of Juda This is their coast
towards the sea, westward.
18:15. But on the south side the border goeth out from part of
Cariathiarim towards the sea, and cometh to the fountain of the waters
18:16. And it goeth down to that part of the mountain that looketh on
the valley of the children of Ennom:  and is over against the north
quarter in the furthermost part of the valley of Raphaim, and it goeth
down into Geennom (that is the valley of Ennom) by the side of the
Jebusite to the south:  and cometh to the fountain of Rogel,
18:17. Passing thence to the north, and going out to Ensemes, that is
to say, the fountain of the sun:
18:18. And It passeth along to the hills that are over against the
ascent of Adommim:  and it goeth down to Abenboen, that is, the stone of
Boen the son of Ruben:  and it passeth on the north side to the
champaign countries; and goeth down Into the plain,
18:19. And it passeth by Bethhagla northward:  and the outgoings thereof
are towards the north of the most salt sea at the south end of the
18:20. Which is the border of it on the east side.  This is the
possession of the children of Benjamin by their borders round about,
and their families.
18:21. And their cities were, Jericho and Bethhagla and Vale-Casis,
18:22. Betharaba and Samaraim and Bethel,
18:23. And Avim and Aphara and Ophera,
18:24. The town Emona and Ophni and Gabee:  twelve cities, and their
18:25. Gabam and Rama and Beroth,
18:26. And Mesphe, and Caphara, and Amosa,
18:27. And Recem, Jarephel, and Tharela,
18:28. And Sela, Eleph and Jebus, which is Jerusalem, Gabaath and
Cariath:  fourteen cities, and their villages.  This is the possession of
the children of Benjamin by their families.
Josue Chapter 19
The lots of the tribes of Simeon, Zabulon, Issachar, Aser, Nephtali and
Dan.  A city is given to Josue.
19:1. And the second lot came forth for the children of Simeon by their
kindreds:  and their inheritance was
19:2. In the midst of the possession of the children of Juda:  Bersabee
and Sabee and Molada
19:3. And Hasersual, Bala and Asem,
19:4. And Eltholad, Bethul and Harma,
19:5. And Siceleg and Bethmarchaboth and Hasersusa,
19:6. And Bethlebaoth and Sarohen:  thirteen cities, and their villages.
19:7. And Remmon and Athor and Asan:  four cities, and their villages.
19:8. And all the villages round about these cities to Baalath Beer
Ramath to the south quarter.  This is the inheritance of the children of
Simeon according to their kindreds,
19:9. In the possession and lot of the children of Juda:  because it was
too great, and therefore the children of Simeon had their possession in
the midst of their inheritance.
19:10. And the third lot fell to the children of Zabulon by their
kindreds:  and the border of their possession was unto Sarid.
19:11. And It went up from the sea and from Merala, and came to
Debbaseth:  as far as the torrent, which is over against Jeconam.
19:12. And it returneth from Sarid eastward to the borders of
Ceseleththabor:  and it goeth out to Dabereth and ascendeth towards
19:13. And it passeth along from thence to the east side of Gethhepher
and Thacasin:  and goeth out to Remmon, Amthar and Noa.
19:14. And it turneth about to the north of Hanathon:  and the outgoings
thereof are the valley of Jephtahel,
19:15. And Cateth and Naalol and Semeron and Jedala and Bethlehem:
twelve cities and their villages.
19:16. This is the inheritance of the tribe of the children of Zabulon
by their kindreds, the cities and their villages.
19:17. The fourth lot came out to Issachar by their kindreds.
19:18. And his inheritance was Jezrael and Casaloth and Sunem,
19:19. And Hapharaim and Seon and Anaharath,
19:20. And Rabboth and Cesion, Abes,
19:21. And Rameth and Engannim and Enhadda and Bethpheses.
19:22. And the border thereof cometh to Thabor and Sehesima and
Bethsames:  and the outgoings thereof shall be at the Jordan:  sixteen
cities, and their villages.
19:23. This is the possession of the sons of Issachar by their
kindreds, the cities and their villages.
19:24. And the fifth lot fell to the tribe of the children of Aser by
their kindreds:
19:25. And their border was Halcath and Chali and Beten and Axaph,
19:26. And Elmelech and Amaad and Messal:  and it reacheth to Carmel by
the sea and Sihor and Labanath,
19:27. And it returneth towards the east to Bethdagon:  and passeth
along to Zabulon and to the valley of Jephthael towards the north to
Bethemec and Nehiel.  And it goeth out to the left side of Cabul,
19:28. And to Abaran and Rohob and Hamon and Cana, as far as the great
19:29. And it returneth to Horma to the strong city of Tyre, and to
Hosa:  and the outgoings thereof shall be at the sea from the portion of
19:30. And Amma and Aphec and Rohob:  twenty-two cities, and their
19:31. This is the possession of the children of Aser by their
kindreds, and the cities and their villages.
19:32. The sixth lot came out to the sons of Nephtali by their
19:33. And the border began from Heleph and Elon to Saananim, and
Adami, which is Neceb, and Jebnael even to Lecum:
19:34. And the border returneth westward to Azanotthabor, and goeth out
from thence to Hucuca, and passeth along to Zabulon southward, and to
Aser westward, and to Juda upon the Jordan towards the rising of the
19:35. And the strong cities are Assedim, Ser, and Emath, and Reccath
and Cenereth,
19:36. And Edema and Arama, Asor,
19:37. And Cedes and Edri, Enhasor,
19:38. And Jeron and Magdalel, Horem, and Bethanath and Bethsames:
nineteen cities, and their villages.
19:39. This is the possession of the tribe of the children of Nephtali
by their kindreds, the cities and their villages.
19:40. The seventh lot came out to the tribe of the children of Dan by
their families
19:41. And the border of their possession was Saraa and Esthaol, and
Hirsemes, that is, the city of the sun,
19:42. Selebin and Aialon and Jethela,
19:43. Elon and Themna and Acron,
19:44. Elthece, Gebbethon and Balaath,
19:45. And Juda and Bane and Barach and Gethremmon:
19:46. And Mejarcon and Arecon, with the border that looketh towards
19:47. And is terminated there.  And the children of Dan went up and
fought against Lesem, and took it:  and they put it to the sword, and
possessed it, and dwelt in it, calling the name of it Lesem Dan, by the
name of Dan their father.
19:48. This is the possession of the tribe of the sons of Dan, by their
kindreds, the cities and their villages.
19:49. And when he had made an end of dividing the land by lot to each
one by their tribes, the children of Israel gave a possession to Josue
the son of Nun in the midst of them,
19:50. According to the commandment of the Lord, the city which he
asked for, Thamnath Saraa, in mount Ephraim:  and he built up the city,
and dwelt in it.
19:51. These are the possessions which Eleazar the priest, and Josue
the son of Nun, and the princes of the families, and of the tribes of
the children of Israel, distributed by lot in Silo, before the Lord at
the door of the tabernacle of the testimony, and they divided the land.
Josue Chapter 20
The cities of refuge are appointed for casual manslaughter.
20:1. And the Lord spoke to Josue, saying:  Speak to children of Israel
and say to them:
20:2. Appoint cities of refuge, of which I spoke to you by the hand of
20:3. That whosoever shall kill a person unawares may flee to them, and
may escape the wrath of the kinsman, who is the avenger of blood.
20:4. And when he shall flee to one of these cities:  he shall stand
before the gate of the city, and shall speak to the ancients of that
city, such things as prove him innocent:  and so shall they receive him,
and give him a place to dwell in.
20:5. And when the avenger of blood shall pursue him, they shall not
deliver him into his hands, because he slew his neighbour unawares, and
is not proved to have been his enemy two or three days before,
20:6. And he shall dwell in that city, till he stand before judgment to
give an account of his fact, and till the death of the high priest, who
shall be at that time:  then shall the manslayer return, and go into his
own city and house from whence he fled.
20:7. And they appointed Cedes in Galilee of mount Nephtali, and Sichem
in mount Ephraim, and Cariath-Arbe, the same is Hebron in the mountain
20:8. And beyond the Jordan to the east of Jericho, they appointed
Bosor, which is upon the plain of the wilderness of the tribe of Ruben,
and Ramoth in Galaad of the tribe of Gad, and Gaulon in Basan of the
tribe of Manasses.
20:9. These cities were appointed for all the children of Israel, and
for the strangers, that dwelt among them, that whosoever had killed a
person unawares might flee to them, and not die by the hand of the
kinsman, coveting to revenge the blood that was shed, until he should
stand before the people to lay open his cause.
Josue Chapter 21
Cities with their suburbs are assigned for the priests and Levites.
21:1. Then the princes of the families of Levi came to Eleazar the
priest, and to Josue the son of Nun, and to the princes of the kindreds
of all the tribes of the children of Israel
21:2. And they spoke to them in Silo in the land of Chanaan, and said:
The Lord commanded by the hand of Moses, that cities should be given us
to dwell in, and their suburbs to feed our cattle.
21:3. And the children of Israel gave out of their possessions
according to the commandment of the Lord, cities and their suburbs.
21:4. And the lot came out for the family of Caath of the children of
Aaron the priest out of the tribes of Juda, and of Simeon, and of
Benjamin, thirteen cities.
21:5. And to the rest of the children of Caath, that is, to thee
Levites, who remained, out of the tribes of Ephraim, and of Dan, and
the half tribe of Manasses, ten cities.
21:6. And the lot came out to children of Gerson, that they should take
of the tribes of Issachar and of Aser and of Nephtali, and of the half
tribe of Manasses in Basan, thirteen cities.
21:7. And to the sons of Merari by their kindreds, of the tribes of
Ruben and of Gad and of Zabulon, twelve cities.
21:8. And the children of Israel gave to the Levites the cities and
their suburbs, as the Lord commanded by the hand of Moses, giving to
every one by lot.
21:9. Of the tribes of the children of Juda and of Simeon Josue gave
cities:  whose names are these,
21:10. To the sons of Aaron, of the families of Caath of the race of
Levi (for the first lot came out for them)
21:11. The city of Arbe the father of Enac, which is called Hebron, in
the mountain of Juda, and the suburbs thereof round about.
21:12. But the fields and the villages thereof he had given to Caleb
the son of Jephone for his possession.
21:13. He gave therefore to the children of Aaron the priest, Hebron a
city of refuge, and the suburbs thereof, and Lebna with the suburbs
21:14. And Jether and Estemo,
21:15. And Holon, and Dabir,
21:16. And Ain, and Jeta, and Bethsames, with their suburbs:  nine
cities out of the two tribes, as hath been said.
21:17. And out of the tribe of the children of Benjamin, Gabaon, and
21:18. And Anathoth and Almon, with, their suburbs:  four cities.
21:19. All the cities together of the children of Aaron the priest,
were thirteen, with their suburbs,
21:20. And to the rest of the families of the children of Caath of the
race of Levi was given this possession.
21:21. Of the tribe of Ephraim, Sichem one of the cities of refuge,
with the suburbs thereof in mount Ephraim, and Gazer,
21:22. And Cibsaim, and Beth-horon, with their suburbs, four cities.
21:23. And of he tribe of Dan, Eltheco and Gabathon,
21:24. And Aialon and Gethremmon, with their suburbs, four cities.
21:25. And of the half tribe of Manasses, Thanac and Gethremmon, with
their suburbs, two cities.
21:26. All the cities were ten, with their suburbs, which were given to
the children of Caath, of the inferior degree.
21:27. To the children of Gerson also of the race of Levi out of the
half tribe of Manasses, Gaulon in Basan, one of the cities of refuge,
and Bosra, with their suburbs, two cities.
21:28. And of the tribe of Issachar, Cesion, and Dabereth,
21:29. And Jaramoth, and Engannim, with their suburbs, four cities.
21:30. And of the tribe of Aser, Masal and Abdon,
21:31. And Helcath, and Rohob, with their suburbs, four cities.
21:32. Of the tribe also of Nephtali, Cedes in Galilee, one of the
cities of refuge:  and Hammoth Dor, and Carthan, with their suburbs,
three cities.
21:33. All the cities of the families of Gerson, were thirteen, with
their suburbs.
21:34. And to the children of Merari, Levites of the inferior degree,
by their families were given of the tribe of Zabulon, Jecnam and
21:35. And Damna and Naalol, four cities with their suburbs.
21:36. Of the tribe of Ruben beyond the Jordan over against Jericho,
Bosor in the wilderness, one of the cities of refuge, Misor and Jaser
and Jethson and Mephaath, four cities with their suburbs.
Four cities. . .There are no more, though there be five names:  for Misor
is the same city as Bosor, which is to be observed in some other
places, where the number of names exceeds the number of cities.
21:37. Of the tribe of Gad, Ramoth in Galaad, one of the cities of
refuge, and Manaim and Hesebon and Jaser, four cities with their
21:38. All the cities of the children of Merari by their families and
kindreds, were twelve.
21:39. So all the cities of the Levites within the possession of the
children of Israel were forty-eight,
21:40. With their suburbs, each distributed by the families.
21:41. And the Lord God gave to Israel all the land that he had sworn
to give to their fathers:  and they possessed it, and dwelt in it.
21:42. And he gave them peace from all nations round about:  and none of
their enemies durst stand against them, but were brought under their
21:43. Not so much as one word, which he had promised to perform unto
them, was made void, but all came to pass.
Josue Chapter 22
The tribes of Ruben and Gad, and half the tribe of Manasses return to
their possessions.  They build an altar by the side of the Jordan, which
alarms the other tribes.  An embassage is sent to them, to which they
give a satisfactory answer.
22:1. At the same time Josue called the Rubenites, and the Gadites, and
the half tribe of Manasses,
22:2. And said to them:  You have done all that Moses the servant of the
Lord commanded you:  you have also obeyed me in all things,
22:3. Neither have you left your brethren this long time, until this
present day, keeping the commandment of the Lord your God.
22:4. Therefore as the Lord your God hath given your brethren rest and
peace, as he promised:  return, and go to your dwellings, and to the
land of your possession, which Moses the servant of the Lord gave you
beyond the Jordan:
22:5. Yet so that you observe attentively, and in work fulfil the
commandment and the law which Moses the servant of the Lord commanded
you:  that you love the Lord your God, and walk in all his ways, and
keep all his commandments, and cleave to him, and serve him with all
your heart, and with all your soul.
22:6. And Josue blessed them, and sent them away, and they returned to
their dwellings.
22:7. Now to half the tribe of Manasses, Moses had given a possession
in Basan:  and therefore to the half that remained, Josue gave a lot
among the rest of their brethren beyond the Jordan to the west.  And
when he sent them away to their dwellings and had blessed them,
22:8. He said to them:  With much substance and riches, you return to
your settlements, with silver and gold, brass and iron, and variety of
raiment:  divide the prey of your enemies with your brethren.
22:9. So the children of Ruben, and the children of Gad, and the half
tribe of Manasses returned, and parted from the children of Israel in
Silo, which is in Chanaan, to go into Galaad the land of their
possession, which they had obtained according to the commandment of the
Lord by the hand of Moses.
22:10. And when they were come to banks of the Jordan, in the land of
Chanaan, they built an altar immensely great near the Jordan.
22:11. And when the children of Israel had heard of it, and certain
messengers brought them an account that the children of Ruben, and of
Gad, and the half tribe of Manasses had built an altar in the land of
Chanaan, upon the banks of the Jordan, over against the children of
22:12. They all assembled in Silo, to go up and fight against them.
22:13. And in the mean time they sent to them into the land of Galaad,
Phinees the son of Eleazar the priest,
22:14. And ten princes with him, one of every tribe.
22:15. Who came to the children of Ruben, and of Gad, and the half
tribe of Manasses, into the land of Galaad, and said to them:
22:16. Thus saith all the people of the Lord:  What meaneth this
transgression?  Why have you forsaken the Lord the God of Israel,
building a sacrilegious altar, and revolting from the worship of him?
22:17. Is it a small thing to you that you sinned with Beelphegor, and
the stain of that crime remaineth in us to this day?  and many of the
people perished.
22:18. And you have forsaken the Lord to day, and to morrow his wrath
will rage against all Israel.
22:19. But if you think the land of your possession to be unclean, pass
over to the land wherein is the tabernacle of the Lord, and dwell among
us:  only depart not from the Lord, and from our society, by building an
altar beside the altar of the Lord our God.
22:20. Did not Achan the son of Zare transgress the commandment of the
Lord, and his wrath lay upon all the people of Israel?  And he was but
one man, and would to God he alone had perished in his wickedness.
22:21. And the children of Ruben, and of Gad, and of the half tribe of
Manasses answered the princes of the embassage of Israel:
22:22. The Lord the most mighty God, the Lord the most mighty God, he
knoweth, and Israel also shall understand:  If with the design of
transgression we have set up this altar, let him not save us, but
punish us immediately:
22:23. And if we did it with that mind, that we might lay upon it
holocausts, and sacrifice, and victims of peace offerings, let him
require and judge:
22:24. And not rather with this thought and design, that we should say:
To morrow your children will say to our children:  What have you to do
with the Lord the God of Israel?
22:25. The Lord hath put the river Jordan for a border between us and
you, O ye children of Ruben, and ye children of Gad:  and therefore you
have no part in the Lord.  And by this occasion your children shall turn
away our children from the fear of the Lord.  We therefore thought it
22:26. And said:  Let us build us an altar, not for holocausts, nor to
offer victims,
22:27. But for a testimony between us and you, and our posterity and
yours, that we may serve the Lord, and that we may have a right to
offer both holocausts, and victims and sacrifices of peace offerings:
and that your children to morrow may not say to our children:  You have
no part in the Lord.
22:28. And if they will say so, they shall answer them:  Behold the
altar of the Lord, which our fathers made, not for holocausts, nor for
sacrifice, but for a testimony between us and you.
22:29. God keep us from any such wickedness that we should revolt from
the Lord, and leave off following his steps, by building an altar to
offer holocausts, and sacrifices, and victims, beside the altar of the
Lord our God, which is erected before his tabernacle.
22:30. And when Phinees the priest, and the princes of the embassage,
who were with him, had heard this, they were satisfied:  and they
admitted most willingly the words of the children of Ruben, and Gad,
and of the half tribe of Manasses,
22:31. And Phinees the priest the son of Eleazar said to them:  Now we
know that the Lord is with us, because you are not guilty of this
revolt, and you have delivered the children of Israel from the hand of
22:32. And he returned with the princes from the children of Ruben and
Gad, out of the land of Galaad, into the land of Chanaan, to the
children of Israel, and brought them word again.
22:33. And the saying pleased all that heard it.  And the children of
Israel praised God, and they no longer said that they would go up
against them, and fight, and destroy the land of their possession.
22:34. And the children of Ruben, and the children of Gad called the
altar which they had built, Our testimony, that the Lord is God,
Josue Chapter 23
Josue being old admonisheth the people to keep God's commandments:  and
to avoid marriages and all society with the Gentiles for fear of being
brought to idolatry.
23:1. And when a long time was passed, after that the Lord had given
peace to Israel, all the nations round about being subdued.  and Josue
being now old, and far advanced in years:
23:2. Josue called for all Israel, and for the elders, and for the
princes, and for the judges, and for the masters, and said to them:  I
am old, and far advanced in years,
23:3. And you see all that the Lord your God hath done to all the
nations round about, how he himself hath fought for you:
23:4. And now since he hath divided to you by lot all the land, from
the east of the Jordan unto the great sea, ant many nations yet remain:
23:5. The Lord your God will destroy them, and take them away from
before your face, and you shall possess the land as he hath promised
23:6. Only take courage, and be careful to observe all things that are
written in the book of the law of Moses:  and turn not aside from them
neither to the right hand nor to the left:
23:7. Lest after that you are come in among the Gentiles, who will
remain among you, you should swear by the name of their gods, and serve
them, and adore them:
23:8. But cleave ye unto the Lord your God, as you have done until this
23:9. And then the Lord God will take away before your eyes nations
that are great and very strong, and no man shall be able to resist you.
23:10. One of you shall chase a thousand men of the enemies:  because
the Lord your God himself will fight for you, as he hath promised.
23:11. This only take care of with all diligence, that you love the
Lord your God.
23:12. But if you will embrace the errors of these nations that dwell
among you, and make marriages with them, and join friendships:
23:13. Know ye for a certainty that the Lord your God will not destroy
them before your face, but they shall be a pit and a snare in your way,
and a stumbling-block at your side, and stakes in your eyes, till he
take you away and destroy you from off this excellent land, which he
hath given you.
23:14. Behold this day I am going into the way of all the earth, and
you shall know with all your mind that of all the words which the Lord
promised to perform for you, not one hath failed,
23:15. Therefore as he hath fulfilled in deed, what he promised, and
all things prosperous have come:  so will he bring upon you all the
evils he hath threatened, till he take you away and destroy you from
off this excellent land, which he hath given you,
23:16. When you shall have transgressed the covenant of the Lord your
God, which he hath made with you, and shall have served strange gods,
and adored them:  then shall the indignation of the Lord rise up quickly
and speedily against you, and you shall be taken away from this
excellent land, which he hath delivered to you.
Josue Chapter 24
Josue assembleth the people, and reneweth the covenant between them and
God.  His death and burial.
24:1. And Josue gathered together all the tribes of Israel in Sichem,
and called for the ancients, and the princes and the judges, and the
masters:  and they stood in the sight of the Lord:
24:2. And he spoke thus to the people:  Thus saith the Lord the God of
Israel:  Your fathers dwelt of old on the other side of the river, Thare
the father of Abraham, and Nachor:  and they served strange gods.
Of the river. . .The Euphrates.
24:3. And I took your father Abraham from the borders of Mesopotamia:
and brought him into the land of Chanaan:  and I multiplied his seed,
24:4. And gave him Isaac:  and to him again I gave Jacob and Esau.  And I
gave to Esau mount Seir for his possession:  but Jacob and his children
went down into Egypt.
24:5. And I sent Moses and Aaron, and I struck Egypt with many signs
and wonders.
24:6. And I brought you and your fathers out of Egypt, and you came to
the sea:  and the Egyptians pursued your fathers with chariots and
horsemen, as far as the Red Sea.
24:7. And the children of Israel cried to the Lord:  and he put darkness
between you and the Egyptians, and brought the sea upon them, and
covered them.  Your eyes saw all that I did in Egypt, and you dwelt in
the wilderness a long time.
24:8. And I brought you into the land of the Amorrhite, who dwelt
beyond the Jordan.  And when they fought against you, I delivered them
into your hands, and you possessed their land, and slew them.
24:9. And Balac son of Sephor king of Moab arose and fought against
Israel.  And he sent and called for Balaam son of Beor, to curse you:
24:10. And I would not hear him, but on the contrary I blessed you by
him, and I delivered you out of his hand.
24:11. And you passed over the Jordan, and you came to Jericho.  And the
men of that city fought against you, the Amorrhite, and the Pherezite,
and the Chanaanite, and the Hethite, and the Gergesite, and the Hevite,
and the Jebusite:  and I delivered them into your hands.
24:12. And I sent before you and I drove them out from their places,
the two kings of the Amorrhites, not with thy sword nor with thy bow,
24:13. And I gave you a land, in which you had not laboured, and cities
to dwell in which you built not, vineyards and oliveyards, which you
planted not.
24:14. Now therefore fear the Lord, and serve him with a perfect and
most sincere heart:  and put away the gods which your fathers served in
Mesopotamia and in Egypt, and serve the Lord.
24:15. But if it seem evil to you to serve the Lord, you have your
choice:  choose this day that which pleaseth you, whom you would rather
serve, whether the gods which your fathers served in Mesopotamia, or
the gods of the Amorrhites, in whose land you dwell:  but as for me and
my house we will serve thee Lord,
24:16. And the people answered, and said, God forbid we should leave
the Lord, and serve strange gods.
24:17. The Lord our God he brought us and our fathers out of the land
of Egypt, out of the house of bondage:  and did very great signs in our
sight, and preserved us in all the way by which we journeyed, and among
all the people through whom we passed.
24:18. And he hath cast out all the nations, the Amorrhite the
inhabitant of the land into which we are come.  Therefore we will serve
the Lord, for he is our God.
24:19. And Josue said to the people:  You will not be able to serve the
Lord:  for he is a holy God, and mighty and jealous, and will not
forgive your wickedness and sins.
You will not be able to serve the Lord, etc. . .This was not said by way
of discouraging them; but rather to make them more earnest and
resolute, by setting before them the greatness of the undertaking, and
the courage and constancy necessary to go through with it.
24:20. If you leave the Lord, and serve strange gods, he will turn, and
will afflict you, and will destroy you after all the good he hath done
24:21. And the people said to Josue:  No, it shall not be so as thou
sayest, but we will serve the Lord.
24:22. And Josue said to the people, You are witnesses, that you
yourselves have chosen you the Lord to serve him.  And they answered:  We
are witnesses.
24:23. Now therefore, said he, put away strange gods from among you,
and incline your hearts to the Lord the God of Israel.
24:24. And the people said to Josue:  We will serve the Lord our God,
and we will be obedient to his commandments.
24:25. Josue therefore on that day made a covenant, and set before the
people commandments and judgments in Sichem.
24:26. And he wrote all these things in the volume of the law of the
Lord:  and he took a great stone, and set it under the oak that was in
the sanctuary of the Lord.
24:27. And he said to all the people:  Behold this stone shall be a
testimony unto you, that it hath heard all the words of the Lord, which
he hath spoken to you:  lest perhaps hereafter you will deny it, and lie
to the Lord your God.
It hath heard. . .This is a figure of speech, by which sensation is
attributed to inanimate things; and they are called upon, as it were,
to bear witness in favour of the great Creator, whom they on their part
constantly obey.
24:28. And he sent the people away every one to their own possession,
24:29. And after these things Josue the son of Nun the servant of the
Lord died, being a hundred and ten years old:
And after, etc. . .If Josue wrote this book, as is commonly believed,
these last verses were added by Samuel, or some other prophet.
24:30. And they buried him in the border of his possession in
Thamnathsare, which is situate in mount Ephraim, on the north side of
24:31. And Israel served the Lord all the days of Josue, and of the
ancients that lived a long time after Josue, and that had known all the
works of the Lord which he had done in Israel.
24:32. And the bones of Joseph which the children of Israel had taken
out of Egypt, they buried in Sichem, in that part of the field which
Jacob had bought of the sons of Hemor the father of Sichem, for a
hundred young ewes, and it was in the possession of the sons of Joseph.
24:33. Eleazar also the son of Aaron died:  and they buried him in
Gabaath that belongeth to Phinees his son, which was given him in mount
THE BOOK OF JUDGES
This Book is called JUDGES, because it contains the history of what
passed under the government of the judges, who ruled Israel before they
had kings.  The writer of it, according to the more general opinion, was
the prophet Samuel.
Judges Chapter 1
The expedition and victory of Juda against the Chanaanites:  who are
tolerated in many places.
1:1. After the death of Josue, the children of Israel consulted the
Lord, saying:  Who shall go up before us against the Chanaanite, and
shall be the leader of the war?
1:2. And the Lord said:  Juda shall go up:  behold I have delivered the
land into his hands.
1:3. And Juda said to Simeon, his brother:  Come up with me into my lot,
and fight against the Chanaanite, that I also may go along with thee
into thy lot.  And Simeon went with him.
1:4. And Juda went up, and the Lord delivered the Chanaanite, and the
Pherezite into their hands:  and they slew of them in Bezec ten thousand
1:5. And they found Adonibezec in Bezec, and fought against him, and
they defeated the Chanaanite, and the Pherezite.
1:6. And Adonibezec fled:  and they pursued after him and took him, and
cut off his fingers and toes.
1:7. And Adonibezec said:  Seventy kings, having their fingers and toes
cut off, gathered up the leavings of the meat under my table:  as I have
done, so hath God requited me.  And they brought him to Jerusalem, and
he died there.
1:8. And the children of Juda besieging Jerusalem, took it, and put it
to the sword, and set the whole city on fire.
Jerusalem. . .This city was divided into two; one part was called Jebus,
the other Salem:  the one was in the tribe of Juda, the other in the
tribe of Benjamin.  After it was taken and burnt by the men of Juda, it
was quickly rebuilt again by the Jebusites, as we may gather from ver.
21; and continued in their possession till it was taken by king David.
1:9. And afterwards they went down and fought against the Chanaanite,
who dwelt in the mountains, and in the south, and in the plains.
1:10. And Juda going forward against the Chanaanite, that dwelt in
Hebron, (the name whereof was in former times Cariath-Arbe) slew Sesai,
and Ahiman, and Tholmai:
Hebron. . .This expedition against Hebron, etc. is the same as is
related, Jos. 15.24.  It is here repeated, to give the reader at once a
short sketch of all the achievements of the tribe of Juda against the
Chanaanites.
1:11. And departing from thence, he went to the inhabitants of Dabir,
the ancient name of which was Cariath-Sepher, that is, the city of
The city of letters. . .Perhaps so called from some famous school, or
library, kept there.
1:12. And Caleb said:  He that shall take Cariath-Sepher, and lay it
waste, to him will I give my daughter Axa to wife.
1:13. And Othoniel, the son of Cenez, the younger brother of Caleb,
having taken it, he gave him Axa his daughter to wife.
1:14. And as she was going on her way, her husband admonished her to
ask a field of her father.  And as she sighed sitting on her ass, Caleb
said to her:  What aileth thee?
1:15. But she answered:  Give me a blessing, for thou hast given me a
dry land:  give me also a watery land So Caleb gave her the upper and
the nether watery ground.
1:16. And the children of the Cinite, the kinsman of Moses, went up
from the city of palms, with the children of Juda, into the wilderness
of his lot, which is at the south side of Arad, and they dwelt with
The Cinite. . .Jethro the father in law of Moses was called Cinoeus, or
the Cinite; and his children who came along with the children of Israel
settled themselves among them in the land of Chanaan, embracing their
worship and religion.  From these the Rechabites sprung, of whom see
Jer. 35.--Ibid.  The city of palms. . .Jericho, so called from the
abundance of palm trees.
1:17. And Juda went with Simeon, his brother, and they together
defeated the Chanaanites that dwelt in Sephaath, and slew them.  And the
name of the city was called Horma, that is, Anathema.
1:18. And Juda took Gaza, with its confines, and Ascalon, and Accaron,
with their confines.
Gaza, etc. . .These were three of the principal cities of the
Philistines, famous both in sacred and profane history.  They were taken
at this time by the Israelites:  but as they took no care to put
garrisons in them, the Philistines soon recovered them.
1:19. And the Lord was with Juda, and he possessed the hill country:
but was not able to destroy the inhabitants of the valley, because they
had many chariots armed with scythes.
Was not able, etc. . .Through a cowardly fear of their chariots armed
with hooks and scythes, and for want of confidence in God.
1:20. And they gave Hebron to Caleb, as Moses had said, who destroyed
out of it the three sons of Enac.
1:21. But the sons of Benjamin did not destroy the Jebusites that
inhabited Jerusalem:  and the Jebusite hath dwelt with the sons of
Benjamin in Jerusalem until this present day.
1:22. The house of Joseph also went up against Bethel, and the Lord was
1:23. For when they were besieging the city, which before was called
1:24. They saw a man coming out of the city, and they said to him:  Shew
us the entrance into the city, and we will shew thee mercy.
1:25. And when he had shewed them, they smote the city with the edge of
the sword:  but that man, and all his kindred, they let go:
1:26. Who being sent away, went into the land of Hetthim, and built
there a city, and called it Luza:  which is so called until this day.
1:27. Manasses also did not destroy Bethsan, and Thanac, with their
villages; nor the inhabitants of Dor, and Jeblaam, and Mageddo, with
their villages.  And the Chanaanite began to dwell with them.
1:28. But after Israel was grown strong, he made them tributaries, and
would not destroy them.
1:29. Ephraim also did not slay the Chanaanite that dwelt in Gazer, bnt
dwelt with him.
1:30. Zabulon destroyed not the inhabitants of Cetron, and Naalol:  but
the Chanaanite dwelt among them, and became their tributary.
1:31. Aser also destroyed not the inhabitants of Accho, and of Sidon,
of Ahalab, and of Achazib, and of Helba, and of Aphec, and of Rohob:
1:32. And he dwelt in the midst of the Chanaanites, the inhabitants of
that land, and did not slay them.
1:33. Nephthali also destroyed not the inhabitants of Bethsames, and of
Bethanath:  and he dwelt in the midst of the Chanaanites, the
inhabitants of the land, and the Bethsamites and Bethanites were
tributaries to him.
1:34. And the Amorrhite straitened the children of Dan in the mountain,
and gave them not a place to go down to the plain:
1:35. And he dwelt in the mountain Hares, that is, of potsherds, in
Aialon and Salebim.  And the hand of the house of Joseph was heavy upon
him, and he became tributary to him.
He dwelt. . .That is, the Amorrhite.
1:36. And the border of the Amorrhite was from the ascent of the
scorpion, the rock, and the higher places.
Judges Chapter 2
An angel reproveth Israel.  They weep for their sins.  After the death of
Josue, they often fall, and repenting are delivered from their
afflictions, but still fall worse and worse.
2:1. And an angel of the Lord went up from Galgal to the place of
weepers, and said:  I made you go out of Egypt, and have brought you
into the land for which I swore to your fathers:  and I promised that I
would not make void my covenant with you for ever:
An angel. . .Taking the shape of a man.
2:2. On condition that you should not make a league with the
inhabitants of this land, but should throw down their altars:  and you
would not hear my voice:  why have you done this?
2:3. Wherefore I would not destroy them from before your face; that you
may have enemies, and their gods may be your ruin.
2:4. And when the angel of the Lord spoke these words to all the
children of Israel:  they lifted up their voice, and wept.
2:5. And the name of that place was called, The place of weepers, or of
tears:  and there they offered sacrifices to the Lord.
2:6. And Josue sent away the people, and the children of Israel went
every one to his own possession to hold it:
And Josue, etc. . .This is here inserted out of Jos. 24, by way of
recapitulation of what had happened before, and by way of an
introduction to that which follows.
2:7. And they served the Lord all his days, and the days of the
ancients, that lived a long time after him, and who knew all the works
of the Lord, which he had done for Israel.
2:8. And Josue, the son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died, being a
hundred and ten years old;
2:9. And they buried him in the borders of his possession in
Thamnathsare, in Mount Ephraim, on the north side of Mount Gaas.
2:10. And all that generation was gathered to their fathers:  and there
arose others that knew not the Lord and the works which he had done for
2:11. And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord, and
they served Baalim
2:12. And they left the Lord, the God of their fathers, who had brought
them out of the land of Egypt:  and they followed strange gods, and the
gods of the people that dwelt round about them, and they adored them:
and they provoked the Lord to anger,
They followed strange gods. . .What is here said of the children of
Israel, as to their falling so often into idolatry, is to be understood
of a great part of them; but not so universally, as if the true worship
of God was ever quite abolished among them:  for the succession of the
true church and religion was kept up all this time by the priests and
Levites, at least in the house of God in Silo.
2:13. Forsaking him, and serving Baal and Astaroth
2:14. And the Lord being angry against Israel, delivered them into the
hands of plunderers:  who took them and sold them to their enemies, that
dwelt round about:  neither could they stand against their enemies:
2:15. But whithersoever they meant to go, the hand of the Lord was upon
them, as he had said, and as he had sworn to them:  and they were
greatly distressed.
2:16. And the Lord raised up judges, to deliver them from the hands of
those that oppressed them:  but they would not hearken to them,
2:17. Committing fornication with strange gods, and adoring them.  They
quickly forsook the way, in which their fathers had walked:  and hearing
the commandments of the Lord, they did all things contrary.
2:18. And when the Lord raised them up judges, in their days, he was
moved to mercy, and heard the groanings of the afflicted, and delivered
them from the slaughter of the oppressors.
2:19. But after the judge was dead, they returned, and did much worse
things than their fathers had done, following strange gods, serving
them, and adoring them.  They left not their own inventions, and the
stubborn way, by which they were accustomed to walk.
2:20. And the wrath of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and he
said:  Behold this nation hath made void my covenant, which I had made
with their fathers, and hath despised to hearken to my voice:
2:21. I also will not destroy the nations which Josue left when he
2:22. That through them I may try Israel, whether they will keep the
way of the Lord, and walk in it, as their fathers kept it, or not.
2:23. The Lord therefore left all these nations, and would not quickly
destroy them, neither did he deliver them into the hands of Josue.
Judges Chapter 3
The people falling into idolatry are oppressed by their enemies; but
repenting are delivered by Othoniel, Aod, and Samgar.
3:1. These are the nations which the Lord left, that by them he might
instruct Israel, and all that had not known the wars of the
Chanaanites:
3:2. That afterwards their children might learn to fight with their
enemies, and to be trained up to war:
3:3. The five princes of the Philistines, and all the Chanaanites, and
the Sidonians, and the Hevites that dwelt in Mount Libanus, from Mount
Baal Hermon to the entering into Emath.
3:4. And he left them, that he might try Israel by them, whether they
would hear the commandments of the Lord, which he had commanded their
fathers, by the hand of Moses, or not.
3:5. So the children of Israel dwelt in the midst of the Chanaanite,
and the Hethite, and the Amorrhite, and the Pherezite, and the Hevite,
and the Jebusite:
3:6. And they took their daughters to wives, and they gave their own
daughters to their sons, and they served their gods.
3:7. And they did evil in the sight of the Lord, and they forgot their
God, and served Baalim and Astaroth.
3:8. And the Lord being angry with Israel, delivered them into the
hands of Chusan Rasathaim, king of Mesopotamia, and they served him
eight years.
Mesopotamia. . .In Hebrew Aramnaharim.  Syria of the two rivers:  so
called because it lies between the Euphrates and the Tigris.  It is
absolutely called Syria, ver. 10.
3:9. And they cried to the Lord, who raised them up a saviour, and
delivered them; to wit, Othoniel, the son of Cenez, the younger brother
3:10. And the spirit of the Lord was in him, and he judged Israel.  And
he went out to fight, and the Lord delivered Chusan Rasathaim, king of
Syria, and he overthrew him:
3:11. And the land rested forty years, and Othoniel, the son of Cenez,
3:12. And the children of Israel did evil again in the sight of the
Lord:  who strengthened against them Eglon, king of Moab:  because they
did evil in his sight.
3:13. And he joined to him the children of Ammon, and Amalec:  and he
went and overthrew Israel, and possessed the city of palm trees.
3:14. And the children of Israel served Eglon, king of Moab, eighteen
3:15. And afterwards they cried to the Lord, who raised them up a
saviour, called Aod, the son of Cera, the son of Jemini, who used the
left hand as well as the right.  And the children of Israel sent
presents to Eglon, king of Moab, by him.
3:16. And he made himself a two-edged sword, with a haft in the midst
of the length of the palm of the hand, and was girded therewith, under
his garment, on the right thigh.
3:17. And he presented the gifts to Eglon, king of Moab Now Eglon was
exceeding fat.
3:18. And when he had presented the gifts unto him he followed his
companions that came along with him.
3:19. Then returning from Galgal, where the idols were, he said to the
king:  I have a secret message to thee, O king.  And he commanded
silence:  and all being gone out that were about him,
3:20. Aod went in to him:  now he was sitting in a summer parlour alone,
and he said:  I have a word from God to thee.  And he forthwith rose up
from his throne.
A word from God, etc. . .What Aod, who was judge and chief magistrate of
Israel, did on this occasion, was by a special inspiration of God:  but
such things are not to be imitated by private men.
3:21. And Aod put forth his left hand, and took the dagger from his
right thigh, and thrust it into his belly,
3:22. With such force that the haft went in after the blade into the
wound, and was closed up with the abundance of fat.  So that he did not
draw out the dagger, but left it in the body as he had struck it in:
and forthwith, by the secret parts of nature, the excrements of the
belly came out.
3:23. And Aod carefully shutting the doors of the parlour, and locking
3:24. Went out by a postern door.  And the king's servants going in, saw
the doors of the parlour shut, and they said:  Perhaps he is easing
nature in his summer parlour.
3:25. And waiting a long time, till they were ashamed, and seeing that
no man opened the door, they took a key:  and opening, they found their
lord lying dead on the ground.
3:26. But Aod, while they were in confusion, escaped, and passed by the
place of the idols from whence he had returned.  And he came to Seirath:
3:27. And forthwith he sounded the trumpet in Mount Ephraim:  and the
children of Israel went down with him, he himself going in the front.
3:28. And he said to them:  Follow me:  for the Lord hath delivered our
enemies, the Moabites, into our hands.  And they went down after him,
and seized upon the fords of the Jordan, which are in the way to Moab:
and they suffered no man to pass over:
3:29. But they slew of the Moabites at that time, about ten thousand,
all strong and valiant men:  none of them could escape.
3:30. And Moab was humbled that day under the hand of Israel:  and the
land rested eighty years.
3:31. After him was Samgar, the son of Anath, who slew of the
Philistines six hundred men with a ploughshare:  and he also defended
Judges Chapter 4
Debbora and Barac deliver Israel from Jabin and Sisara, Jahal killeth
4:1. And the children of Israel again did evil in the sight of the Lord
after the death of Aod:
4:2. And the Lord delivered them up into the hands of Jabin, king of
Chanaan, who reigned in Asor:  and he had a general of his army named
Sisara, and he dwelt in Haroseth of the Gentiles.
4:3. And the children of Israel cried to the Lord:  for he had nine
hundred chariots set with scythes and for twenty years had grievously
oppressed them.
4:4. And there was at that time Debbora, a prophetess, the wife of
Lapidoth, who judged the people.
4:5. And she sat under a palm tree, which was called by her name,
between Rama and Bethel, in Mount Ephraim:  and the children of Israel
came up to her for all judgment.
4:6. And she sent and called Barac, the Son of Abinoem, out of Cedes,
in Nephthali:  and she said to him:  The Lord God of Israel hath
commanded thee:  Go, and lead an army to Mount Thabor, and thou shalt
take with thee ten thousand fighting men of the children of Nephthali,
and of the children of Zabulon:
4:7. And I will bring unto thee in the place of the torrent Cison,
Sisara, the general of Jabin's army, and his chariots, and all his
multitude, and will deliver them into thy hand.
4:8. And Barac said to her:  If thou wilt come with me, I will go:  if
thou wilt not come with me, I will not go.
4:9. She said to him:  I will go, indeed, with thee, but at this time
the victory shall not be attributed to thee, because Sisara shall be
delivered into the hand of a woman.  Debbora therefore arose, and went
with Barac to Cedes.
4:10. And he called unto him Zabulon and Nephthali, and went up with
ten thousand fighting men, having Debbora in his company.
4:11. Now Haber, the Cinite, had some time before departed from the
rest of the Cinites, his brethren, the sons of Hobab, the kinsman of
Moses:  and had pitched his tents unto the valley, which is called
Sennim, and was near Cedes.
4:12. And it was told Sisara, that Barac, the son of Abinoem, was gone
up to Mount Thabor:
4:13. And he gathered together his nine hundred chariots armed with
scythes, and all his army, from Haroseth of the Gentiles, to the
torrent Cison.
4:14. And Debbora said to Barac:  Arise, for this is the day wherein the
Lord hath delivered Sisara into thy hands:  behold, he is thy leader.
And Barac went down from Mount Thabor, and ten thousand fighting men
4:15. And the Lord struck a terror into Sisara, and all his chariots,
and all his multitude, with the edge of the sword, at the sight of
Barac; insomuch, that Sisara leaping down from off his chariot, fled
away on foot,
4:16. And Barac pursued after the fleeing chariots, and the army, unto
Haroseth of the Gentiles; and all the multitude of the enemies was
utterly destroyed.
4:17. But Sisara fleeing, came to the tent of Jahel, the wife of Haber,
the Cinite, for there was peace between Jabin, the king of Asor, and
the house of Haber, the Cinite.
4:18. And Jahel went forth to meet Sisara, and said to him:  Come in to
me, my lord; come in, fear not.  He went into her tent, and being
covered by her with a cloak,
4:19. Said to her:  Give me, I beseech thee, a little water, for I am
very thirsty.  She opened a bottle of milk, and gave him to drink, and
covered him.
4:20. And Sisara said to her:  Stand before the door of the tent, and
when any shall come and inquire of thee, saying:  Is there any man here?
thou shalt say:  There is none.
4:21. So Jahel, Haber's wife, took a nail of the tent, and taking also
a hammer:  and going in softly, and with silence, she put the nail upon
the temples of his head, and striking it with the hammer, drove it
through his brain fast into the ground:  and so passing from deep sleep
to death, he fainted away and died.
4:22. And behold, Barac came pursuing after Sisara:  and Jahel went out
to meet him, and said to him:  Come, and I will shew thee the man whom
thou seekest.  And when he came into her tent, he saw Sisara lying dead,
and the nail fastened in his temples.
4:23. So God that day humbled Jabin, the king of Chanaan, before the
children of Israel:
4:24. Who grew daily stronger, and with a mighty hand overpowered
Jabin, king of Chanaan, till they quite destroyed him.
Judges Chapter 5
The canticle of Debbora and Barac after their victory.
5:1. In that day Debbora and Barac, son of Abinoem, sung, and said:
5:2. O you of Israel, that have willingly offered your lives to danger,
bless the Lord.
5:3. Hear, O ye kings, give ear, O ye princes:  It is I, it is I, that
will sing to the Lord, I will sing to the Lord, the God of Israel.
5:4. O Lord, when thou wentest out of Seir, and passedst by the regions
of Edom, the earth trembled, and the heavens and clouds dropped water.
5:5. The mountains melted before the face of the Lord, and Sinai before
the face of the Lord the God of Israel.
5:6. In the days of Samgar, the son of Anath, in the days of Jahel, the
paths rested:  and they that went by them, walked through bye-ways.
The paths rested. . .The ways to the sanctuary of God were unfrequented:
and men walked in the by-ways of error and sin.
5:7. The valiant men ceased, and rested in Israel:  until Debbora arose,
a mother arose in Israel.
5:8. The Lord chose new wars, and he himself overthrew the gates of the
enemies:  a shield and spear was not seen among forty thousand of
5:9. My heart loveth the princes of Israel:  O you, that of your own
good will offered yourselves to danger, bless the Lord.
5:10.  Speak, you that ride upon fair asses, and you that sit in
judgment, and walk in the way.
5:11. Where the chariots were dashed together, and the army of the
enemies was choked, there let the justices of the Lord be rehearsed,
and his clemency towards the brave men of Israel:  then the people of
the Lord went down to the gates, and obtained the sovereignty.
5:12. Arise, arise, O Debbora, arise, arise, and utter a canticle.
Arise, Barac, and take hold of thy captives, O son of Abinoem.
5:13. The remnants of the people are saved, the Lord hath fought among
the valiant ones.
5:14. Out of Ephraim he destroyed them into Amalec, and after him out
of Benjamin into thy people, O Amalec:  Out of Machir there came down
princes, and out of Zabulon they that led the army to fight.
Out of Ephraim, etc. . .The enemies straggling in their flight were
destroyed, as they were running through the land of Ephraim, and of
Benjamin, which lies after, that is beyond Ephraim:  and so on to the
very confines of Amalec.  Or, it alludes to former victories of the
people of God, particularly that which was freshest in memory, when the
men of Ephraim and Benjamin, with Aod at their head, overthrew their
enemies the Moabites with the Amalecites their allies.  See chap.
3.--Ibid.  Machir. . .The tribe of Manasses, whose eldest son was Machir.
5:15. The captains of Issachar were with Debbora, and followed the
steps of Barac, who exposed himself to danger, as one going headlong,
and into a pit.  Ruben being divided against himself, there was found a
strife of courageous men.
Divided against himself, etc. . .By this it seems that the valient men
of the tribe of Ruben were divided in their sentiments, with relation
to this war; which division kept them at home within their own borders,
to hear the bleating of their flocks.
5:16. Why dwellest thou between two borders, that thou mayst hear the
bleatings of the flocks?  Ruben being divided against himself, there was
found a strife of courageous men.
5:17. Galaad rested beyond the Jordan, and Dan applied himself to
ships:  Aser dwelt on the sea shore, and abode in the havens.
5:18. But Zabulon and Nephthali offered their lives to death in the
region of Merome.
5:19. The kings came and fought, the kings of Chanaan fought in Thanac,
by the waters of Mageddo and yet they took no spoils.
5:20. There was war made against them from heaven:  the stars, remaining
in their order and courses, fought against Sisara.
5:21. The torrent of Cison dragged their carcasses, the torrent of
Cadumim, the torrent of Cison:  tread thou, my soul, upon the strong
5:22. The hoofs of the horses were broken whilst the stoutest of the
enemies fled amain, and fell headlong down.
5:23. Curse ye the land of Meroz, said the angel of the Lord:  curse the
inhabitants thereof, because they came not to the help of the Lord, to
help his most valiant men.
Meroz. . .Where this land of Meroz was, which is here laid under a
curse, we cannot find:  nor is there mention of it anywhere else in holy
writ.  In the spiritual sense, they are cursed who refuse to assist the
people of God in their warfare against their spiritual enemies.
5:24. Blessed among women be Jahel, the wife of Haber the Cinite, and
blessed be she in her tent.
5:25. He asked her water, and she gave him milk, and offered him butter
in a dish fit for princes.
5:26. She put her left hand to the nail, and her right hand to the
workman's hammer, and she struck Sisara, seeking in his head a place
for the wound, and strongly piercing through his temples.
5:27. Between her feet he fell:  he fainted, and he died:  he rolled
before her feet, and there he lay lifeless and wretched.
5:28. His mother looked out at a window, and howled:  and she spoke from
the dining room:  Why is his chariot so long in coming back?  Why are the
feet of his horses so slow?
5:29. One that was wiser than the rest of his wives, returned this
answer to her mother in law:
5:30. Perhaps he is now dividing the spoils, and the fairest of the
women is chosen out for him:  garments of divers colours are given to
Sisara for his prey, and furniture of different kinds is heaped
together to adorn necks.
5:31. So let all thy enemies perish, O Lord:  but let them that love
thee shine, as the sun shineth in his rising.
5:32. And the land rested for forty years.
Judges Chapter 6
The people for their sins, are oppressed by the Madianites.  Gedeon is
called to deliver them.
6:1. And the children of Israel again did evil in the sight of the
Lord:  and he delivered them into the hand of Madian seven years,
6:2. And they were grievously oppressed by them.  And they made
themselves dens and caves in the mountains, and strong holds to resist.
6:3. And when Israel had sown, Madian and Amalec, and the rest of the
eastern nations, came up:
6:4. And pitching their tents among them, wasted all things as they
were in the blade, even to the entrance of Gaza:  and they left nothing
at all in Israel for sustenance of life, nor sheep, nor oxen, nor
6:5. For they and all their flocks came with their tents, and like
locusts filled all places, an innumerable multitude of men, and of
camels, wasting whatsoever they touched.
6:6. And Israel was humbled exceedingly in the sight of Madian.
6:7. And he cried to the Lord, desiring help against the Madianites.
6:8. And he sent unto them a prophet, and he spoke:  Thus saith the
Lord, the God of Israel:  I made you to come up out of Egypt, and
brought you out of the house of bondage,
6:9. And delivered you out of the hands of the Egyptians, and of all
the enemies that afflicted you:  and I cast them out at your coming in,
and gave you their land.
6:10. And I said:  I am the Lord your God, fear not the gods of the
Amorrhites, in whose land you dwell.  And you would not hear my voice.
6:11. And an angel of the Lord came, and sat under an oak that was in
Ephra, and belonged to Joas, the father of the family of Ezri.  And when
Gedeon, his son, was threshing and cleansing wheat by the winepress, to
flee from Madian,
6:12. The angel of the Lord appeared to him, and said:  The Lord is with
thee, O most valiant of men.
6:13. And Gedeon said to him:  I beseech thee, my lord, if the Lord be
with us, why have these evils fallen upon us?  Where are his miracles,
which our fathers have told us of, saying:  The Lord brought us out of
Egypt but now the Lord hath forsaken us, and delivered us into the hand
6:14. And the Lord looked upon him, and said:  Go, in this thy strength,
and thou shalt deliver Israel out of the hand of Madian:  know that I
have sent thee.
6:15. He answered, and said:  I beseech thee, my lord wherewith shall I
deliver Israel?  Behold, my family is the meanest in Manasses, and I am
the least in my father's house.
The meanest in Manasses, etc. . .Mark how the Lord chooseth the humble
(who are mean and little in their own eyes) for the greatest
enterprises.
6:16. And the Lord said to him:  I will be with thee:  and thou shalt cut
off Madian as one man.
6:17. And he said:  If I have found grace before thee, give me a sign
that it is thou that speakest to me:
6:18. And depart not hence, till I return to thee, and bring a
sacrifice, and offer it to thee.  And he answered:  I will wait thy
6:19. So Gedeon went in, and boiled a kid, and made unleavened loaves
of a measure of flour:  and putting the flesh in a basket, and the broth
of the flesh into a pot, he carried all under the oak, and presented to
6:20. And the angel of the Lord said to him:  Take the flesh and the
unleavened loaves, and lay them upon that rock, and pour out the broth
thereon.  And when he had done so,
6:21. The angel of the Lord put forth the tip of the rod, which he held
in his hand, and touched the flesh and the unleavened loaves:  and there
arose a fire from the rock, and consumed the flesh and the unleavened
loaves:  and the angel of the Lord vanished out of his sight.
6:22. And Gedeon seeing that it was the angel of the Lord, said:  Alas,
my Lord God:  for I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face.
6:23. And the Lord said to him:  Peace be with thee:  fear not, thou
shalt not die.
6:24. And Gedeon built there an altar to the Lord, and called it the
Lord's peace, until this present day.  And when he was yet in Ephra,
which is of the family of Ezri,
6:25. That night the Lord said to him:  Take a bullock of thy father's,
and another bullock of seven years, and thou shalt destroy the altar of
Baal, which is thy father's:  and cut down the grove that is about the
6:26. And thou shalt build un altar to the Lord thy God, in the top of
this rock, whereupon thou didst lay the sacrifice before:  and thou
shalt take the second bullock, and shalt offer a holocaust upon a pile
of the wood, which thou shalt cut down out of the grove.
6:27. Then Gedeon, taking ten men of his servants, did as the Lord had
commanded him.  But fearing his father's house, and the men of that
city, he would not do it by day, but did all by night.
6:28. And when the men of that town were risen in the morning, they saw
the altar of Baal destroyed, and the grove cut down, and the second
bullock laid upon the altar, which then was built.
6:29. And they said one to another:  Who hath done this?  And when they
inquired for the author of the fact, it was said:  Gedeon, the son of
Joas, did all this.
6:30. And they said to Joas:  Bring out thy son hither, that he may die:
because he hath destroyed the altar of Baal, and hath cut down his
6:31. He answered them:  Are you the avengers of Baal, that you fight
for him?  he that is his adversary, let him die before to morrow light
appear:  if he be a god, let him revenge himself on him that hath cast
down his altar.
6:32. From that day Gedeon was called Jerobaal, because Joas had said:
Let Baal revenge himself on him that hath cast down his altar.
6:33. Now all Madian, and Amalec, and the eastern people, were gathered
together, and passing over the Jordan, camped in the valley of Jezrael.
6:34. But the spirit of the Lord came upon Gedeon, and he sounded the
trumpet, and called together the house of Abiezer, to follow him.
6:35. And he sent messengers into all Manasses, and they also followed
him :  and other messengers into Aser and Zabulon, and Nephthali, and
they came to meet him.
6:36. And Gedeon said to God:  If thou wilt save Israel by my hand, as
thou hast said,
6:37. I will put this fleece of wool on the floor:  if there be dew in
the fleece only, and it be dry on all the ground beside, I shall know
that by my hand, as thou hast said, thou wilt deliver Israel.
6:38. And it was so.  And rising before day, wringing the fleece, he
filled a vessel with the dew.
6:39. And he said again to God:  Let not thy wrath be kindled against
me, if I try once more, seeking a sign in the fleece.  I pray that the
fleece only may be dry, and all the ground wet with dew.
6:40. And God did that night as he had requested:  and it was dry on the
fleece only, and there was dew on all the ground.
Judges Chapter 7
Gedeon, with three hundred men, by stratagem defeateth the Madianites.
7:1. Then Jerobaal, who is the same as Gedeon, rising up early, and all
the people with him, came to the fountain that is called Harad.  Now the
camp of Madian was in the valley, on the north side of the high hill.
7:2. And the Lord said to Gedeon:  The people that are with thee are
many, and Madian shall not be delivered into their hands:  lest Israel
should glory against me, and say:  I was delivered by my own strength.
Lest Israel, etc. . .By this we see that God will not choose for his
instruments in great achievements, which depend purely on his grace,
such as, through pride and self conceit, will take the glory to
7:3. Speak to the people, and proclaim in the hearing of all:  Whosoever
is fearful and timorous, let him return.  So two and twenty thousand men
went away from Mount Galaad and returned home, and only ten thousand
7:4. And the Lord said to Gedeon:  The people are still too many, bring
them to the waters, and there I will try them:  and of whom I shall say
to thee, This shall go with thee, let him go:  whom I shall forbid to
go, let him return.
7:5. And when the people were come down to the waters, the Lord said to
Gedeon:  They that shall lap the water with their tongues, as dogs are
wont to lap, thou shalt set apart by themselves:  but they that shall
drink bowing down their knees, shall be on the other side.
7:6. And the number of them that had lapped water; casting it with the
hand to their mouth, was three hundred men:  and all the rest of the
multitude had drunk kneeling.
7:7. And the Lord said to Gedeon:  By the three hundred men, that lapped
water, I will save you, and deliver Madian into thy hand:  but let all
the rest of the people return to their place.
That lapped water. . .These were preferred that took the water up in
their hands, and so lapped it, before them who laid themselves quite
down to the waters to drink:  which argued a more eager and sensual
disposition.
7:8. So taking victuals and trumpets according to their number, he
ordered all the rest of the multitude to depart to their tents:  and he
with the three hundred gave himself to the battle.  Now the camp of
Madia was beneath him in the valley.
7:9. The same night the Lord said to him:  Arise, and go down into the
camp:  because I have delivered them into thy hand.
7:10. But if thou be afraid to go alone, let Phara, thy servant, go
down with thee.
7:11. And when thou shalt hear what they are saying, then shall thy
hands be strengthened, and thou shalt go down more secure to the
enemies' camp.  And he went down with Phara his servant, into part of
the camp, where was the watch of men in arms.
7:12. But Madian and Amalec, and all the eastern people, lay scattered
in the valley, as a multitude of locusts:  their camels also were
innumerable, as the sand that lieth on the sea shore.
7:13. And when Gedeon was come, one told his neighbour a dream:  and in
this manner related what he had seen:  I dreamt a dream, and it seemed
to me as if a hearth cake of barley bread rolled and came down into the
camp of Madian:  and when it was come to a tent, it struck it, and beat
it down flat to the ground.
A dream. . .Observation of dreams is commonly superstitious, and as such
is condemned in the word of God:  but in some extraordinary cases, as we
here see, God is pleased by dreams to foretell what he is about to do.
7:14. He to whom he spoke, answered:  This is nothing else but the sword
of Gedeon, the son of Joas, a man of Israel.  For the Lord hath
delivered Madian, and all their camp into his hand.
7:15. And when Gedeon had heard the dream, and the interpretation
thereof, he adored:  and returned to the camp of Israel, and said:
Arise, for the Lord hath delivered the camp of Madian into our hands.
7:16. And he divided the three hundred men into three parts, and gave
them trumpets in their hands, and empty pitchers, and lamps within the
7:17. And he said to them:  What you shall see me do, do you the same:  I
will go into one part of the camp, and do you as I shall do.
7:18. When the trumpet shall sound in my hand, do you also blow the
trumpets on every side of the camp, and shout together to the Lord and
7:19. And Gedeon, and the three hundred men that were with him, went
into part of the camp, at the beginning of the midnight watch, and the
watchmen being alarmed, they began to sound their trumpets, and to clap
the pitchers one against another.
Their trumpets, etc. . .In a mystical sense, the preachers of the
gospel, in order to spiritual conquests, must not only sound with the
trumpet of the word of God, but must also break their earthen pitchers,
by the mortification of the flesh and its passions, and carry lamps in
their hands by the light of their virtues.
7:20. And when they sounded their trumpets in three places round about
the camp, and had broken their pitchers, they held their lamps in their
left hands, and with their right hands the trumpets which they blew,
and they cried out:  The sword of the Lord and of Gedeon:
7:21. Standing every man in his place round about the enemies' camp.  So
all the camp was troubled, and crying out and howling, they fled away:
7:22. And the three hundred men nevertheless persisted sounding the
trumpets.  And the Lord sent the sword into all the camp, and they
killed one another,
7:23. Fleeing as far as Bethsetta, and the border of Abelmahula, in
Tebbath.  But the men of Israel, shouting from Nephthali, and Aser, and
from all Manasses, pursued after Madian.
7:24. And Gedeon sent messengers into all Mount Ephraim, saying:  Come
down to meet Madian, and take the waters before them to Bethbera and
the Jordan.  And all Ephraim shouted, and took the waters before them
and the Jordan as far as Bethbera.
7:25. And having taken two men of Madian, Oreb and Zeb:  Oreb they slew
in the rock of Oreb, and Zeb in the winepress of Zeb.  And they pursued
Madian, carrying the heads of Oreb and Zeb to Gedeon, beyond the waters
of the Jordan.
Two men. . .That is, two of their chiefs.
Judges Chapter 8
Gedeon appeaseth the Ephraimites.  Taketh Zebee and Salmana.  Destroyeth
Soccoth and Phanuel.  Refuseth to be king.  Maketh an ephod of the gold
of the prey, and dieth in a good old age.  The people return to
8:1. And the men of Ephraim said to him:  What is this that thou meanest
to do, that thou wouldst not call us, when thou wentest to fight
against Madian?  And they chid him sharply, and almost offered violence.
8:2. And he answered them:  What could I have done like to that which
you have done?  Is not one bunch of grapes of Ephraim better than the
vintages of Abiezer?
What could I, etc. . .A meek and humble answer appeased them; who
otherwise might have come to extremities.  So great is the power of
humility both with God and man.
8:3. The Lord hath delivered into your hands the princes of Madian,
Oreb and Zeb:  what could I have done like to what you have done?  And
when he had said this, their spirit was appeased, with which they
swelled against him.
8:4. And when Gedeon was come to the Jordan, he passed over it with the
three hundred men that were with him:  who were so weary that they could
not pursue after them that fled.
8:5. And he said to the men of Soccoth:  Give, I beseech you, bread to
the people that is with me, for they are faint:  that we may pursue
Zebee, and Salmana, the kings of Madian.
8:6. The princes of Soccoth answered:  Peradventure the palms of the
hands of Zebee and Salmana are in thy hand, and therefore thou
demandest that we should give bread to thy army.
8:7. And he said to them:  When the Lord therefore shall have delivered
Zebee and Salmana into my hands, I will thresh your flesh with the
thorns and briers of the desert.
8:8. And going up from thence, he came to Phanuel:  and he spoke the
like things to the men of that place.  And they also answered him, as
the men of Soccoth had answered.
8:9. He said, therefore, to them also:  When I shall return a conqueror
in peace, I will destroy this tower.
8:10. But Zebee and Salmana were resting with all their army.  For
fifteen thousand men were left of all the troops of the eastern people,
and one hundred and twenty thousand warriors that drew the sword were
8:11. And Gedeon went up by the way of them that dwelt in tents, on the
east of Nobe and Jegbaa, and smote the camp of the enemies, who were
secure, and suspected no hurt.
8:12. And Zebee and Salmana fled, and Gedeon pursued and took them, all
their host being put in confusion.
8:13. And returning from the battle before the sun rising,
8:14. He took a boy of the men of Soccoth:  and he asked him the names
of the princes and ancients of Soccoth, and he described unto him
seventy-seven men.
8:15. And he came to Soccoth, and said to them:  Behold Zebee, and
Salmana, concerning whom you upbraided me, saying:  Peradventure the
hands of Zebee and Salmana are in thy hands, and therefore thou
demandest that we should give bread to the men that are weary and
8:16. So he took the ancients of the city, and thorns and briers of the
desert, and tore them with the same, and cut in pieces the men of
8:17. And he demolished the tower of Phanuel, and slew the men of the
8:18. And he said to Zebee and Salmana:  What manner of men were they,
whom you slew in Thabor?  They answered:  They were like thee, and one of
them as the son of a king.
8:19. He answered them:  They were my brethren, the sons of my mother.
As the Lord liveth, if you had saved them, I would not kill you.
8:20. And he said to Jether, his eldest son:  Arise, and slay them.  But
he drew not his sword:  for he was afraid, being but yet a boy.
8:21. And Zebee and Salmana said:  Do thou rise and run upon us:  because
the strength of a man is according to his age:  Gedeon rose up, and slew
Zebee and Salmana:  and he took the ornaments and bosses, with which the
necks of the camels of kings are wont to be adorned.
8:22. And all the men of Israel said to Gedeon:  Rule thou over us, and
thy son, and thy son's son:  because thou hast delivered us from the
hand of Madian.
8:23. And he said to them:  I will not rule over you, neither shall my
son rule over you, but the Lord shall rule over you.
8:24. And he said to them:  I desire one request of you:  Give me the
earlets of your spoils.  For the Ismaelites were accustomed to wear
golden earlets.
8:25. They answered:  We will give them most willingly.  And spreading a
mantle on the ground, they cast upon it the earlets of the spoils.
8:26. And the weight of the earlets that he requested, was a thousand
seven hundred sicles of gold, besides the ornaments, and jewels, and
purple raiment, which the kings of Madian were wont to use, and besides
the golden chains that were about the camels necks.
8:27. And Gedeon made an ephod thereof, and put it in his city Ephra.
And all Israel committed fornication with it, and it became a ruin to
Gedeon, and to all his house.
An ephod. . .A priestly garment which Gedeon made with a good design;
but the Israelites, after his death, abused it by making it an
instrument of their idolatrous worship.
8:28. But Madian was humbled before the children of Israel, neither
could they any more lift up their heads:  but the land rested for forty
years, while Gedeon presided.
8:29. So Jerobaal, the son of Joas, went and dwelt in his own house:
8:30. And he had seventy sons, who came out of his thigh, for he had
8:31. And his concubine, that he had in Sichem, bore him a son, whose
name was Abimelech.
His concubine. . .She was his servant, but not his harlot:  and is called
his concubine, as wives of an inferior degree are commonly called in
the Old Testament, though otherwise lawfully married.
8:32. And Gedeon, the son of Joas died in a good old age, and was
buried in the sepulchre of his father, in Ephra, of the family of Ezri.
8:33. But after Gedeon was dead, the children of Israel turned again,
and committed fornication with Baalim.  And they made a covenant with
Baal, that he should be their god:
8:34. And they remembered not the Lord their God, who delivered them
out of the hands of all their enemies round about:
8:35. Neither did they shew mercy to the house of Jerobaal Gedeon,
according to all the good things he had done to Israel.
Judges Chapter 9
Abimelech killeth his brethren.  Joatham's parable.  Gaal conspireth with
the Sichemites against Abimelech, but is overcome.  Abimelech destroyeth
Sichem:  but is killed at Thebes.
9:1. And Abimelech, the son of Jerobaal, went to Sichem, to his
mother's brethren, and spoke to them, and to all the kindred of his
mother's father, saying:
9:2. Speak to all the men of Sichem:  whether is better for you that
seventy men, all the sons of Jerobaal, should rule over you, or that
one man should rule over you?  And withal, consider that I am your bone,
and your flesh.
9:3. And his mother's brethren spoke of him to all the men of Sichem,
all these words, and they inclined their hearts after Abimelech,
saying:  He is our brother:
9:4. And they gave him seventy weight of silver out of the temple of
Baalberith:  wherewith he hired to himself men that were needy, and
vagabonds, and they followed him.
Baalberith. . .That is, Baal of the covenant, so called from the
covenant they had made with Baal, chap. 8.33.
9:5. And he came to his father's house in Ephra, and slew his brethren,
the sons of Jerobaal, seventy men, upon one stone:  and there remained
only Joatham, the youngest son of Jerobaal, who was hidden.
9:6. And all the men of Sichem were gathered together, and all the
families of the city of Mello:  and they went and made Abimelech king,
by the oak that stood in Sichem.
9:7. This being told to Joatham, he went, and stood on the top of Mount
Garizim:  and lifting up his voice, he cried, and said:  Hear me, ye men
of Sichem, so may God hear you.
9:8. The trees went to anoint a king over them:  and they said to the
olive tree:  Reign thou over us.
9:9. And it answered:  Can I leave my fatness, which both gods and men
make use of, to come to be promoted among the trees?
Both gods and men make use of. . .The olive tree is introduced, speaking
in this manner, because oil was used both in the worship of the true
God, and in that of the false gods, whom the Sichemites served.
9:10. And the trees said to the fig tree:  Come thou and reign over us.
9:11. And it answered them:  Can I leave my sweetness, and my delicious
fruits, and go to be promoted among the other trees?
9:12. And the trees said to the vine:  Come thou and reign over us.
9:13. And it answered them:  Can I forsake my wine, that cheereth God
and men, and be promoted among the other trees?
Cheereth God and men. . .Wine is here represented as agreeable to God,
because he had appointed it to be offered up with his sacrifices.  But
we are not obliged to take these words, spoken by the trees, in
Joatham's parable, according to the strict literal sense:  but only in a
sense accomodated to the design of the parable expressed in the
conclusion of it.
9:14. And all the trees said to the bramble:  Come thou and reign over
9:15. And it answered them:  If, indeed, you mean to make me king, come
ye, and rest under my shadow:  but if you mean it not, let fire come out
from the bramble, and devour the cedars of Libanus.
9:16. Now, therefore, if you have done well, and without sin, in
appointing Abimelech king over you, and have dealt well with Jerobaal,
and with his house, and have made a suitable return for the benefits of
him who fought for you,
9:17. And exposed his life to dangers, to deliver you from the hand of
9:18. And you are now risen up against my father's house, and have
killed his sons, seventy men, upon one stone, and have made Abimelech,
the son of his handmaid, king over the inhabitants of Sichem, because
he is your brother:
9:19. If therefore you have dealt well, and without fault, with
Jerobaal and his house, rejoice ye, this day, in Abimelech, and may he
rejoice in you.
9:20. But if unjustly:  let fire come out from him, and consume the
inhabitants of Sichem, and the town of Mello:  and let fire come out
from the men of Sichem and from the town of Mello, and devour
9:21. And when he had said thus, he fled, and went into Bera:  and dwelt
there for fear of Abimelech, his brother.
9:22. So Abimelech reigned over Israel three years.
9:23. And the Lord sent a very evil spirit between Abimelech and the
inhabitants of Sichem; who began to detest him,
9:24. And to lay the crime of the murder of the seventy sons of
Jerobaal, and the shedding of their blood, upon Abimelech, their
brother, and upon the rest of the princes of the Sichemites, who aided
9:25. And they set an ambush against him on the top of the mountains:
and while they waited for his coming, they committed robberies, taking
spoils of all that passed by:  and it was told Abimelech.
9:26. And Gaal, the son of Obed, came with his brethren, and went over
to Sichem.  And the inhabitants of Sichem, taking courage at his coming,
9:27. Went out into the fields, wasting the vineyards, and treading
down the grapes:  and singing and dancing, they went into the temple of
their god, and in their banquets and cups they cursed Abimelech.
9:28. And Gaal, the son of Obed, cried:  Who is Abimelech, and what is
Sichem, that we should serve him?  Is he not the son of Jerobaal, and
hath made Zebul, his servant, ruler over the men of Emor, the father of
Sichem?  Why then shall we serve him?
9:29. Would to God that some man would put this people under my hand,
that I might remove Abimelech out of the way.  And it was said to
Abimelech:  Gather together the multitude of an army, and come.
9:30. For Zebul, the ruler of the city, hearing the words of Gaal, the
son of Obed, was very angry,
9:31. And sent messengers privately to Abimelech, saying:  Behold, Gaal,
the son of Obed, is come into Sichem with his brethren, and
endeavoureth to set the city against thee.
9:32. Arise, therefore, in the night, with the people that is with
thee, and lie hid in the field:
9:33. And betimes in the morning, at sun rising, set upon the city, and
when he shall come out against thee, with his people, do to him what
thou shalt be able.
9:34. Abimelech, therefore, arose with all his army, by night, and laid
ambushes near Sichem in four places.
9:35. And Gaal, the son of Obed, went out, and stood in the entrance of
the gate of the city.  And Abimelech rose up, and all his army with him,
from the places of the ambushes.
9:36. And when Gaal saw the people, he said to Zebul:  Behold, a
multitude cometh down from the mountains.  And he answered him:  Thou
seest the shadows of the mountains as if they were the heads of men,
and this is thy mistake.
9:37. Again Gaal said:  Behold, there cometh people down from the midst
of the land, and one troop cometh by the way that looketh towards the
9:38. And Zebul said to him:  Where is now thy mouth, wherewith thou
saidst:  Who is Abimelech, that we should serve him?  Is not this the
people which thou didst despise?  Go out, and fight against him.
9:39. So Gaal went out, in the sight of the people of Sichem, and
fought against Abimelech,
9:40. Who chased and put him to flight, and drove him to the city:  and
many were slain of his people, even to the gate of the city:
9:41. And Abimelech sat down in Ruma:  but Zebul drove Gaal, and his
companions, out of the city, and would not suffer them to abide in it.
9:42. So the day following the people went out into the field.  And it
was told to Abimelech,
9:43. And he took his army, and divided it into three companies, and
laid ambushes in the fields.  And seeing that the people came out of the
city, he arose, and set upon them,
9:44. With his own company, assaulting and besieging the city:  whilst
the two other companies chased the enemies that were scattered about
9:45. And Abimelech assaulted the city all that day:  and took it, and
killed the inhabitants thereof, and demolished it, so that he sowed
Sowed salt. . .To make the ground barren, and fit for nothing.
9:46. And when they who dwelt in the tower of Sichem, had heard this,
they went into the temple of their god Berith, where they had made a
covenant with him, and from thence the place had taken its name, and it
was exceeding strong.
9:47. Abimelech also hearing that the men of the tower of Sichem were
gathered together,
9:48. Went up into mount Selmon, he and all his people with him:  and
taking an axe, he cut down the bough of a tree, and laying it on his
shoulder, and carrying it, he said to his companions:  What you see me
do, do ye out of hand.
9:49. So they cut down boughs from the trees, every man as fast as he
could, and followed their leader.  And surrounding the fort, they set it
on fire:  and so it came to pass, that with the smoke and with the fire
a thousand persons were killed, men and women together, of the
inhabitants of the town of Sichem.
9:50. Then Abimelech, departing from thence, came to the town of
Thebes, which he surrounded and besieged with his army.
9:51. And there was in the midst of the city a high tower, to which
both the men and the women were fled together, and all the princes of
the city, and having shut and strongly barred the gate, they stood upon
the battlements of the tower to defend themselves.
9:52. And Abimelech, coming near the tower, fought stoutly:  and,
approaching to the gate, endeavoured to set fire to it:
9:53. And behold, a certain woman casting a piece of a millstone from
above, dashed it against the head of Abimelech, and broke his skull.
9:54. And he called hastily to his armourbearer, and said to him:  Draw
thy sword, and kill me:  lest it should be said that I was slain by a
woman.  He did as he was commanded, and slew him.
9:55. And when he was dead all the men of Israel that were with him,
returned to their homes.
9:56. And God repaid the evil that Abimelech had done against his
father, killing his seventy brethren.
9:57. The Sichemites also were rewarded for what they had done, and the
curse of Joatham, the son of Jerobaal, came upon them.
Judges Chapter 10
Thola ruleth Israel twenty-three years; and Jair twenty-two.  The people
fall again into idolatry, and are afflicted again by the Philistines
and Ammonites.  They cry to God for help, who upon their repentance hath
compassion on them.
10:1. After Abimelech, there arose a ruler in Israel, Thola, son of
Phua, the uncle of Abimelech, a man of Issachar, who dwelt in Samir of
mount Ephraim:
Uncle of Abimelech. . .i.  e., half brother to Gedeon, as being born of
the same mother, but by a different father, and of a different tribe.
10:2. And he judged Israel three and twenty years, and he died, and was
buried in Samir.
10:3. To him succeeded Jair, the Galaadite, who judged Israel for two
and twenty years,
10:4. Having thirty sons, that rode on thirty ass colts, and were
princes of thirty cities, which from his name were called Havoth Jair,
that is, the towns of Jair, until this present day, in the land of
Havoth Jair. . .This name was now confirmed to these towns, which they
had formerly received from another Jair.  Num. 32.41.
10:5. And Jair died, and was buried in the place which is called Camon.
10:6. But the children of Israel, adding new sins to their old ones,
did evil in the sight of the Lord, and served idols, Baalim and
Astaroth, and the gods of Syria, and of Sidon, and of Moab, and of the
children of Ammon, and of the Philistines:  and they left the Lord, and
did not serve him.
10:7. And the Lord being angry with them, delivered them into the hands
of the Philistines, and of the children of Ammon.
10:8. And they were afflicted, and grievously oppressed for eighteen
years, all they that dwelt beyond the Jordan in the land of the
Amorrhite, who is in Galaad:
10:9. Insomuch that the children of Ammon, passing over the Jordan,
wasted Juda, and Benjamin, and Ephraim:  and Israel was distressed
exceedingly.
10:10. And they cried to the Lord, and said, We have sinned against
thee, because we have forsaken the Lord our God, and have served
10:11. And the Lord said to them:  Did not the Egyptians, and the
Amorrhites, and the children of Ammon, and the Philistines,
10:12. The Sidonians also, and Amalec, and Chanaan, oppress you, and
you cried to me, and I delivered you out of their hand?
10:13. And yet you have forsaken me, and have worshipped strange gods:
therefore I will deliver you no more:
10:14. Go, and call upon the gods which you have chosen:  let them
deliver you in the time of distress.
10:15. And the children of Israel said to the Lord:  We have sinned, do
thou unto us whatsoever pleaseth thee:  only deliver us this time.
10:16. And saying these things, they cast away out of their coasts all
the idols of strange gods, and served the Lord their God:  and he was
touched with their miseries.
10:17. And the children of Ammon shouting together, pitched their tents
in Galaad:  against whom the children of Israel assembled themselves
together, and camped in Maspha.
10:18. And the princes of Galaad said one to another:  Whosoever of us
shall first begin to fight against the children of Ammon, he shall be
the leader of the people of Galaad.
Judges Chapter 11
Jephte is made ruler of the people of Galaad:  he first pleads their
cause against the Ammonites; then making a vow obtains a signal
victory; he performs his vow.
11:1. There was at that time Jephte, the Galaadite, a most valiant man,
and a warrior, the son of a woman that was a harlot, and his father was
11:2. Now Galaad had a wife of whom he had sons:  who, after they were
grown up, thrust out Jephte, saying:  Thou canst not inherit in the
house of our father, because thou art born of another mother.
11:3. Then he fled and avoided them, and dwelt in the land of Tob:  and
there were gathered to him needy men and robbers, and they followed him
as their prince.
11:4. In those days the children of Ammon made war against Israel.
11:5. And as they pressed hard upon them, the ancients of Galaad went
to fetch Jephte out of the land of Tob to help them:
11:6. And they said to him:  Come thou, and be our prince, and fight
against the children of Ammon.
11:7. And he answered them:  Are not you the men that hated me, and cast
me out of my father's house, and now you are come to me, constrained by
11:8. And the princes of Galaad said to Jephte:  For this cause we are
now come to thee, that thou mayst go with us, and fight against the
children of Ammon, and be head over all the inhabitants of Galaad.
11:9. Jephte also said to them:  If you be come to me sincerely, that I
should fight for you against the children of Ammon, and the Lord shall
deliver them into my hand, shall I be your prince?
11:10. They answered him:  The Lord, who heareth these things, he
himself is mediator and witness that we will do as we have promised.
11:11. Jephte therefore went with the princes of Galaad, and all the
people made him their prince.  And Jephte spoke all his words before the
Lord in Maspha.
11:12. And he sent messengers to the king of the children of Ammon, to
say in his name:  What hast thou to do with me, that thou art come
against me, to waste my land?
11:13. And he answered them:  Because Israel took away my land, when he
came up out of Egypt, from the confines of the Arnon unto the Jaboc and
the Jordan:  now, therefore, restore the same peaceably to me.
11:14. And Jephte again sent word by them, and commanded them to say to
the king of Ammon:
11:15. Thus saith Jephte:  Israel did not take away the land of Moab,
nor the land of the children of Ammon:
11:16. But when they came up out of Egypt, he walked through the desert
to the Red Sea, and came into Cades.
11:17. And he sent messengers to the king of Edom, saying:  Suffer me to
pass through thy land.  But he would not condescend to his request.  He
sent also to the king of Moab, who, likewise, refused to give him
passage.  He abode, therefore, in Cades,
11:18. And went round the land of Edom at the side, and the land of
Moab:  and came over against the east coast of the land of Moab, and
camped on the other side of the Arnon:  and he would not enter the
bounds of Moab.
11:19. So Israel sent messengers to Sehon, king of the Amorrhites, who
dwelt in Hesebon, and they said to him:  Suffer me to pass through thy
land to the river.
11:20. But he, also despising the words of Israel, suffered him not to
pass through his borders:  but gathering an infinite multitude, went out
against him to Jasa, and made strong opposition.
11:21. And the Lord delivered him, with all his army, into the hands of
Israel, and he slew him, and possessed all the land of the Amorrhite,
the inhabitant of that country,
11:22. And all the coasts thereof from the Arnon to the Jaboc, and from
the wilderness to the Jordan.
11:23. So the Lord, the God of Israel, destroyed the Amorrhite, his
people of Israel fighting against him, and wilt thou now possess his
11:24. Are not those things which thy god Chamos possesseth, due to
thee by right?  But what the Lord our God hath obtained by conquest,
shall be our possession:
Chamos. . .The idol of the Moabites and Ammonites.  He argues from their
opinion, who thought they had a just title to the countries which they
imagined they had conquered by the help of their gods:  how much more
then had Israel in indisputable title to the countries which God, by
visible miracles, had conquered for them.
11:25. Unless, perhaps, thou art better than Balac, the son of Sephor,
king of Moab:  or canst shew that he strove against Israel, and fought
against him,
11:26. Whereas he hath dwelt in Hesebon, and the villages thereof, and
in Aroer, and its villages, and in all the cities near the Jordan, for
three hundred years.  Why have you for so long a time attempted nothing
about this claim?
11:27. Therefore I do not trespass against thee, but thou wrongest me
by declaring an unjust war against me.  The Lord be judge, and decide
this day, between Israel and the children of Ammon.
11:28. And the king of the children of Ammon would not hearken to the
words of Jephte, which he sent him by the messengers.
11:29. Therefore the spirit of the Lord came upon Jephte, and going
round Galaad, and Manasses, and Maspha of Galaad, and passing over from
thence to the children of Ammon,
11:30. He made a vow to the Lord, saying:  If thou wilt deliver the
children of Ammon into my hands,
11:31. Whosoever shall first come forth out of the doors of my house,
and shall meet me, when I return in peace from the children of Ammon,
the same will I offer a holocaust to the Lord.
Whosoever, etc. . .Some are of opinion, that the meaning of this vow of
Jephte, was to consecrate to God whatsoever should first meet him,
according to the condition of the thing; so as to offer it up as a
holocaust, if it were such a thing as might be offered by the law; or
to devote it otherwise to God, if it were not such as the law allowed
to be offered in sacrifice.  And therefore they think the daughter of
Jephte was not slain by her father, but only consecrated to perpetual
virginity.  But the common opinion followed by the generality of the
holy fathers and divines is, that she was offered as a holocaust, in
consequence of her father's vow:  and that Jephte did not sin, at least
not mortally, neither in making, nor in keeping, his vow:  since he is
no ways blamed for it in scripture; and was even inspired by God
himself to make the vow (as appears from ver. 29, 30) in consequence of
which he obtained the victory; and therefore he reasonably concluded
that God, who is the master of life and death, was pleased on this
occasion to dispense with his own law; and that it was the divine will
he should fulfil his vow.
11:32. And Jephte passed over to the children of Ammon to fight against
them:  and the Lord delivered them into his hands.
11:33. And he smote them from Aroer till you come to Mennith, twenty
cities, and as far as Abel, which is set with vineyards, with a very
great slaughter:  and the children of Ammon were humbled by the children
11:34. And when Jephte returned into Maspha, to his house, his only
daughter met him with timbrels and with dances:  for he had no other
11:35. And when he saw her, he rent his garments, and said:  Alas! my
daughter, thou hast deceived me, and thou thyself art deceived:  for I
have opened my mouth to the Lord, and I can do no other thing.
11:36. And she answered him:  My father, if thou hast opened thy mouth
to the Lord, do unto me whatsoever thou hast promised, since the
victory hath been granted to thee, and revenge of thy enemies.
11:37. And she said to her father:  Grant me only this, which I desire:
Let me go, that I may go about the mountains for two months, and may
bewail my virginity with my companions.
Bewail my virginity. . .The bearing of children was much coveted under
the Old Testament, when women might hope that from some child of
theirs, the Saviour of the world might one day spring.  But under the
New Testament virginity is preferred.  1 Cor. 7.35.
11:38. And he answered her:  Go.  And he sent her away for two months.
And when she was gone with her comrades and companions, she mourned her
virginity in the mountains.
11:39. And the two months being expired, she returned to her father,
and he did to her as he had vowed, and she knew no man.  From thence
came a fashion in Israel, and a custom has been kept:
11:40. That, from year to year, the daughters of Israel assemble
together, and lament the daughter of Jephte the Galaadite, for four
Judges Chapter 12
The Ephraimites quarrel with Jephte:  forty-two thousand of them are
slain:  Abeson, Ahialon, and Abdon, are judges.
12:1. But behold there arose a sedition in Ephraim.  And passing towards
the north, they said to Jephte:  When thou wentest to fight against the
children of Ammon, why wouldst thou not call us, that we might go with
thee?  Therefore we will burn thy house.
12:2. And he answered them:  I and my people were at great strife with
the children of Ammon:  and I called you to assist me, and you would not
12:3. And when I saw this, I put my life in my own hands, and passed
over against the children of Ammon and the Lord delivered them into my
hands.  What have I deserved, that you should rise up to fight against
12:4. Then calling to him all the men of Galaad, he fought against
Ephraim:  and the men of Galaad defeated Ephraim, because he had said:
Galaad is a fugitive of Ephraim, and dwelleth in the midst of Ephraim
and Manasses.
12:5. And the Galaadites secured the fords of the Jordan, by which
Ephraim was to return.  And when any one of the number of Ephraim came
thither in the flight, and said:  I beseech you let me pass:  the
Galaadites said to him:  Art thou not an Ephraimite?  If he said:  I am
12:6. They asked him:  Say then, Scibboleth, which is interpreted, An
ear of corn.  But he answered, Sibboleth, not being able to express an
ear of corn by the same letter.  Then presently they took him and killed
him in the very passage of the Jordan.  And there fell at that time of
Ephraim, two and forty thousand.
12:7. And Jephte, the Galaadite, judged Israel six years:  and he died,
and was buried in his city of Galaad.
12:8. After him Abesan of Bethlehem judged Israel:
12:9. He had thirty sons, and as many daughters, whom he sent abroad,
and gave to husbands, and took wives for his sons, of the same number,
bringing them into his house.  And he judged Israel seven years:
12:10. And he died, and was buried in Bethlehem.
12:11. To him succeeded Ahialon, a Zabulonite:  and he judged Israel ten
12:12. And he died, and was buried in Zabulon.
12:13. After him, Abdon, the son of Illel, a Pharathonite, judged
12:14. And he had forty sons, and of them thirty grandsons, mounted
upon seventy ass colts, and he judged Israel eight years:
12:15. And he died, and was buried in Pharathon, in the land of
Ephraim, in the mount of Amalech.
Judges Chapter 13
The people fall again into idolatry and are afflicted by the
Philistines.  An angel foretelleth the birth of Samson.
13:1. And the children of Israel did evil again in the sight of the
Lord:  and he delivered them into the hands of the Philistines forty
13:2. Now there was a certain man of Saraa, and of the race of Dan,
whose name was Manue, and his wife was barren.
13:3. And an angel of the Lord appeared to her, and said:  Thou art
barren and without children:  but thou shalt conceive and bear a son.
13:4. Now therefore beware, and drink no wine nor strong drink, and eat
not any unclean thing.
13:6. Because thou shalt conceive, and bear a son, and no razor shall
touch his head:  for he shall be a Nazarite of God, from his infancy,
and from his mother's womb, and he shall begin to deliver Israel from
the hands of the Philistines.
13:6. And when she was come to her husband, she said to him:  A man of
God came to me, having the countenance of an angel, very awful.  And
when I asked him whence he came, and by what name he was called, he
would not tell me:
13:7. But he answered thus:  Behold thou shalt conceive and bear a son:
beware thou drink no wine, nor strong drink, nor eat any unclean thing:
for the child shall be a Nazarite of God from his infancy, from his
mother's womb until the day of his death.
13:8. Then Manue prayed to the Lord, and said:  I beseech thee, O Lord,
that the man of God, whom thou didst send, may come again, and teach us
what we ought to do concerning the child, that shall be born.
13:9. And the Lord heard the prayer of Manue, and the angel of the Lord
appeared again to his wife, as she was sitting in the field.  But Manue
her husband was not with her.  And when she saw the angel,
13:10. She made haste, and ran to her husband:  and told him, saying:
Behold the man hath appeared to me, whom I saw before.
13:11. He rose up, and followed his wife:  and coming to the man, said
to him:  Art thou he that spoke to the woman?  And he answered:  I am.
13:12. And Manue said to him:  When thy word shall come to pass, what
wilt thou that the child should do?  or from what shall he keep himself?
13:13. And the angel of the Lord said to Manue:  From all the things I
have spoken of to thy wife, let her refrain herself:
Let her refrain, etc. . .By the Latin text it is not clear whether this
abstinence was prescribed to the mother, or to the child; but the
Hebrew (in which the verbs relating thereto are of the feminine gender)
determineth it to the mother.  But then the child also was to refrain
from the like things, because he was to be from his infancy a Nazarite
of God, ver. 5, that is, one set aside, in a particular manner, and
consecrated to God:  now the Nazarites by the law were to abstain from
all these things.
13:14. And let her eat nothing that cometh of the vine, neither let her
drink wine or strong drink, nor eat any unclean thing:  and whatsoever I
have commanded her, let her fulfil and observe.
13:15. And Manue said to the angel of the Lord:  I beseech thee to
consent to my request, and let us dress a kid for thee.
13:16. And the angel answered him:  If thou press me I will not eat of
thy bread:  but if thou wilt offer a holocaust, offer it to the Lord.
And Manue knew not it was the angel of the Lord.
13:17. And he said to him:  What is thy name, that, if thy word shall
come to pass, we may honour thee?
13:18. And he answered him:  Why askest thou my name, which is
13:19. Then Manue took a kid of the flocks, and the libations, and put
them upon a rock, offering to the Lord, who doth wonderful things:  and
he and his wife looked on.
13:20. And when the flame from the altar went up towards heaven, the
angel of the Lord ascended also in the same.  And when Manue and his
wife saw this, they fell flat on the ground;
13:21. And the angel of the Lord appeared to them no more.  And
forthwith Manue understood that it was an angel of the Lord,
13:22. And he said to his wife:  We shall certainly die, because we have
Seen God. . .Not in his own person, but in the person of his messenger.
The Israelites, in those days, imagined they should die if they saw an
angel, taking occasion perhaps from those words spoken by the Lord to
Moses, Ex. 33.20, No man shall see me and live.  But the event
demonstrated that it was but a groundless imagination.
13:23. And his wife answered him:  If the Lord had a mind to kill us, he
would not have received a holocaust and libations at our hands; neither
would he have shewed us all these things, nor have told us the things
that are to come.
13:24. And she bore a son, and called his name Samson.  And the child
grew, and the Lord blessed him.
13:25. And the Spirit of the Lord began to be with him in the camp of
Dan, between Saraa and Esthaol.
Judges Chapter 14
Samson desireth a wife of the Philistines.  He killeth a lion:  in whose
mouth he afterwards findeth honey.  His marriage feast, and riddle,
which is discovered by his wife.  He killeth, and strippeth thirty
Philistines.  His wife taketh another man.
14:1. Then Samson went down to Thamnatha, and seeing there a woman of
the daughters of the Philistines,
14:2. He came up, and told his father and his mother, saying:  I saw a
woman in Thamnatha of the daughters of the Philistines:  I beseech you,
take her for me to wife.
14:3. And his father and mother said to him:  Is there no woman among
the daughters of thy brethren, or among all my people, that thou wilt
take a wife of the Philistines, who are uncircumcised?  And Samson said
to his father:  Take this woman for me; for she hath pleased my eyes.
Is there no woman among the daughters of thy brethren. . .This shews his
parents were at first against his marriage with a Gentile, it being
prohibited, Deut. 7.3; but afterwards they consented, knowing it to be
by the dispensation of God; which otherwise would have been sinful in
acting contrary to the law.
14:4. Now his parents knew not that the thing was done by the Lord, and
that he sought an occasion against the Philistines:  for at that time
the Philistines had dominion over Israel.
14:5. Then Samson went down with his father and mother to Thamnatha.
And when they were come to the vineyards of the town, behold a young
lion met him, raging and roaring.
14:6. And the Spirit of the Lord came upon Samson, and he tore the lion
as he would have torn a kid in pieces, having nothing at all in his
hand:  and he would not tell this to his father and mother.
14:7. And he went down, and spoke to the woman that had pleased his
14:8. And after some days, returning to take her, he went aside to see
the carcass of the lion, and behold there was a swarm of bees in the
mouth of the lion, and a honey-comb.
14:9. And when he had taken it in his hands, he went on eating:  and
coming to his father and mother, he gave them of it, and they ate:  but
he would not tell them that he had taken the honey from the body of the
14:10. So his father went down to the woman, and made a feast for his
son Samson:  for so the young men used to do.
14:11. And when the citizens of that place saw him, they brought him
thirty companions to be with him.
14:12. And Samson said to them:  I will propose to you a riddle, which
if you declare unto me within the seven days of the feast, I will give
you thirty shirts, and as many coats:
14:13. But if you shall not be able to declare it, you shall give me
thirty shirts and the same number of coats.  They answered him:  Put
forth the riddle, that we may hear it.
14:14. And he said to them:  Out of the eater came forth meat, and out
of the strong came forth sweetness.  And they could not for three days
expound the riddle.
14:15. And when the seventh day came, they said to the wife of Samson:
Sooth thy husband, and persuade him to tell thee what the riddle
meaneth.  But if thou wilt not do it, we will burn thee, and thy
father's house.  Have you called us to the wedding on purpose to strip
14:16. So she wept before Samson and complained, saying:  Thou hatest
me, and dost not love me:  therefore thou wilt not expound to me the
riddle, which thou hast proposed to the sons of my people.  But he
answered:  I would not tell it to my father and mother:  and how can I
tell it to thee?
14:17. So she wept before him the seven days of the feast:  and, at
length, on the seventh day, as she was troublesome to him, he expounded
it.  And she immediately told her countrymen.
14:18. And they, on the seventh day before the sun went down, said to
him:  What is sweeter than honey?  and what is stronger than a lion?  And
he said to them:  If you had not ploughed with my heifer, you had not
found out my riddle.
14:19. And the Spirit of the Lord came upon him, and he went down to
Ascalon, and slew there thirty men whose garments he took away, and
gave to them that had declared the riddle.  And being exceeding angry,
he went up to his father's house:
14:20. But his wife took one of his friends and bridal companions for
her husband.
Judges Chapter 15
Samson is denied his wife.  He burns the corn of the Philistines, and
kills many of them.
15:1. And a while after, when the days of the wheat harvest were at
hand, Samson came, meaning to visit his wife, and he brought her a kid
of the flock.  And when he would have gone into her chamber, as usual,
her father would not suffer him, saying:
15:2. I thought thou hadst hated her, and therefore I gave her to thy
friend:  but she hath a sister, who is younger and fairer than she, take
her to wife instead of her.
15:3. And Samson answered him:  From this day I shall be blameless in
what I do against the Philistines:  for I will do you evils.
15:4. And he went and caught three hundred foxes, and coupled them tail
to tail, and fastened torches between the tails:
Foxes. . .Being judge of the people he might have many to assist him to
catch with nets or otherwise a number of these animals; of which there
were great numbers in that country.
15:6. And setting them on fire he let the foxes go, that they might run
about hither and thither.  And they presently went into the standing
corn of the Philistines.  Which being set on fire, both the corn that
was already carried together, and that which was yet standing, was all
burnt, insomuch that the flame consumed also the vineyards and the
15:6. Then the Philistines said:  Who hath done this thing?  And it was
answered:  Samson, the son in law of the Thamnathite, because he took
away his wife, and gave her to another, hath done these things.  And the
Philistines went up and burnt both the woman and her father.
15:7. But Samson said to them:  Although you have done this, yet will I
be revenged of you, and then I will be quiet.
15:8. And he made a great slaughter of them, so that in astonishment
they laid the calf of the leg upon the thigh.  And going down he dwelt
in a cavern of the rock Etam.
15:9. Then the Philistines going up into the land of Juda, camped in
the place which afterwards was called Lechi, that is, the Jawbone,
where their army was spread abroad.
15:10. And the men of the tribe of Juda said to them:  Why are you come
up against us?  They answered:  We are come to bind Samson, and to pay
him for what he hath done against us.
15:11. Wherefore three thousand men of Juda went down to the cave of
the rock Etam, and said to Samson:  Knowest thou not that the
Philistines rule over us?  Why wouldst thou do thus?  And he said to
them:  As they did to me, so have I done to them.
15:12. And they said to him:  We are come to bind thee, and to deliver
thee into the hands of the Philistines.  And Samson said to them:  Swear
to me, and promise me that you will not kill me.
15:13. They said:  We will not kill thee:  but we will deliver thee up
bound.  And they bound him with two new cords, and brought him from the
15:14. Now when he was come to the place of the Jawbone, and the
Philistines shouting went to meet him, the Spirit of the Lord came
strongly upon him:  and as flax is wont to be consumed at the approach
of fire, so the bands with which he was bound were broken and loosed.
15:15. And finding a jawbone, even the jawbone of an ass, which lay
there, catching it up, he slew therewith a thousand men.
15:16. And he said:  With the jawbone of an ass, with the jaw of the
colt of asses, I have destroyed them, and have slain a thousand men.
15:17. And when he had ended these words, singing, he threw the jawbone
out of his hand, and called the name of that place Ramathlechi, which
is interpreted the lifting up of the jawbone.
15:18. And being very thirsty, he cried to the Lord, and said:  Thou
hast given this very great deliverance and victory into the hand of thy
servant:  and behold I die for thirst, and shall fall into the hands of
the uncircumcised.
15:19. Then the Lord opened a great tooth in the jaw of the ass and
waters issued out of it.  And when he had drunk them, he refreshed his
spirit, and recovered his strength.  Therefore the name of that place
was called The Spring of him that invoked from the jawbone, until this
present day.
15:20. And he judged Israel, in the days of the Philistines, twenty
Judges Chapter 16
Samson is deluded by Dalila:  and falls into the hands of the
Philistines.  His death.
16:1. He went also into Gaza, and saw there a woman, a harlot, and went
in unto her.
16:2. And when the Philistines had heard this, and it was noised about
among them, that Samson was come into the city, they surrounded him,
setting guards at the gate of the city, and watching there all the
night in silence, that in the morning they might kill him as he went
16:3. But Samson slept till midnight, and then rising, he took both the
doors of the gate, with the posts thereof and the bolt, and laying them
on his shoulders, carried them up to the top of the hill, which looketh
towards Hebron.
16:4. After this he loved a woman, who dwelt in the valley of Sorec,
and she was called Dalila.
Dalila. . .Some are of opinion she was married to Samson; others that
she was his harlot.  If the latter opinion be true, we cannot wonder
that, in punishment of his lust, the Lord delivered him up, by her
means, into the hands of his enemies.  However if he was guilty, it is
not to be doubted but that under his afflictions he heartily repented
and returned to God, and so obtained forgiveness of his sins.
16:5. And the princes of the Philistines came to her, and said:  Deceive
him, and learn of him wherein his great strength lieth, and how we may
be able to overcome him, to bind and afflict him:  which if thou shalt
do, we will give thee every one of us eleven hundred pieces of silver.
16:6. And Dalila said to Samson:  Tell me, I beseech thee, wherein thy
greatest strength lieth, and what it is, wherewith if thou wert bound,
thou couldst not break loose.
16:7. And Samson answered her:  If I shall be bound with seven cords,
made of sinews not yet dry, but still moist, I shall be weak like other
16:8. And the princes of the Philistines brought unto her seven cords,
such as he spoke of, with which she bound him;
16:9. Men lying privately in wait with her, and in the chamber,
expecting the event of the thing, and she cried out to him:  The
Philistines are upon thee, Samson.  And he broke the bands, as a man
would break a thread of tow twined with spittle, when it smelleth the
fire:  so it was not known wherein his strength lay.
16:10. And Dalila said to him:  Behold thou hast mocked me, and hast
told me a false thing:  but now at least tell me wherewith thou mayest
16:11. And he answered her:  If I shall be bound with new ropes, that
were never in work, I shall be weak and like other men.
16:12. Dalila bound him again with these, and cried out:  The
Philistines are upon thee, Samson, there being an ambush prepared for
him in the chamber.  But he broke the bands like threads of webs.
16:13. And Dalila said to him again:  How long dost thou deceive me, and
tell me lies?  Shew me wherewith thou mayest be bound.  And Samson
answered her:  If thou plattest the seven locks of my head with a lace,
and tying them round about a nail, fastenest it in the ground, I shall
16:14. And when Dalila had done this, she said to him:  The Philistines
are upon thee, Samson.  And awaking out of his sleep, he drew out the
nail with the hairs and the lace.
16:15. And Dalila said to him:  How dost thou say thou lovest me, when
thy mind is not with me?  Thou hast told me lies these three times, and
wouldst not tell me wherein thy greatest strength lieth.
16:16. And when she pressed him much, and continually hung upon him for
many days, giving him no time to rest, his soul fainted away, and was
wearied even unto death.
16:17. Then opening the truth of the thing, he said to her:  The razor
hath never come upon my head, for I am a Nazarite, that is to say,
consecrated to God from my mother's womb:  If my head be shaven, my
strength shall depart from me, and I shall become weak, and shall be
like other men.
16:18. Then seeing that he had discovered to her all his mind, she sent
to the princes of the Philistines, saying:  Come up this once more, for
now he hath opened his heart to me.  And they went up, taking with them
the money which they had promised.
16:19. But she made him sleep upon her knees, and lay his head in her
bosom.  And she called a barber and shaved his seven locks, and began to
drive him away, and thrust him from her:  for immediately his strength
departed from him.
16:20. And she said:  The Philistines are upon thee, Samson.  And awaking
from sleep, he said in his mind:  I will go out as I did before, and
shake myself, not knowing that the Lord was departed from him.
16:21. Then the Philistines seized upon him, and forthwith pulled out
his eyes, and led him bound in chains to Gaza, and shutting him up in
prison made him grind.
16:22. And now his hair began to grow again,
16:23. And the princes of the Philistines assembled together, to offer
great sacrifices to Dagon their god, and to make merry, saying:  Our god
hath delivered our enemy Samson into our hands.
16:24. And the people also seeing this, praised their god, and said the
same:  Our god hath delivered our adversary into our hands, him that
destroyed our country, and killed very many.
16:25. And rejoicing in their feasts, when they had now taken their
good cheer, they commanded that Samson should be called, and should
play before them.  And being brought out of prison, he played before
them; and they made him stand between two pillars.
16:26. And he said to the lad that guided his steps:  Suffer me to touch
the pillars which support the whole house, and let me lean upon them,
and rest a little.
16:27. Now the house was full of men and women, and all the princes of
the Philistines were there.  Moreover about three thousand persons of
both sexes, from the roof and the higher part of the house, were
beholding Samson's play.
16:28. But he called upon the Lord, saying:  O Lord God remember me, and
restore to me now my former strength, O my God, that I may revenge
myself on my enemies, and for the loss of my two eyes I may take one
Revenge myself. . .This desire of revenge was out of zeal for justice
against the enemies of God and his people; and not out of private
rancour and malice of heart.
16:29. And laying hold on both the pillars on which the house rested,
and holding the one with his right hand, and the other with his left,
16:30. He said:  Let me die with the Philistines.  And when he had
strongly shook the pillars, the house fell upon all the princes, and
the rest of the multitude, that was there:  and he killed many more at
his death, than he had killed before in his life.
Let me die. . .Literally, let my soul die.  Samson did not sin on this
occasion, though he was indirectly the cause of his own death.  Because
he was moved to what he did, by a particular inspiration of God, who
also concurred with him by a miracle, in restoring his strength upon
the spot, in consequence of his prayer.  Samson, by dying in this
manner, was a figure of Christ, who by his death overcame all his
16:31. And his brethren and all his kindred, going down took his body,
and buried it between Saraa and Esthaol, in the buryingplace of his
father Manue:  and he judged Israel twenty years.
Judges Chapter 17
The history of the idol of Michas, and the young Levite.
17:1. There was at that time a man of mount Ephraim, whose name was
17:2. Who said to his mother:  The eleven hundred pieces of silver,
which thou hadst put aside for thyself, and concerning which thou didst
swear in my hearing, behold I have, and they are with me.  And she said
to him.  Blessed be my son by the Lord.
17:3. So he restored them to his mother, who said to him:  I have
consecrated and vowed this silver to the Lord, that my son may receive
it at my hand, and make a graven and a molten god; so now I deliver it
17:4. And he restored them to his mother:  and she took two hundred
pieces of silver and gave them to the silversmith, to make of them a
graven and a molten God, which was in the house of Michas.
17:5. And he separated also therein a little temple for the god, and
made an ephod, and theraphim, that is to say, a priestly garment, and
idols:  and he filled the hand of one of his sons, and he became his
Filled the hand. . .That is, appointed and consecrated him to the
priestly office.
17:6. In those days there was no king in Israel, but every one did that
which seemed right to himself.
17:7. There was also another young man of Bethlehem Juda, of the
kindred thereof:  and he was a Levite, and dwelt there.
17:8. Now he went out from the city of Bethlehem, and desired to
sojourn wheresoever he should find it convenient for him.  And when he
was come to mount Ephraim, as he was on his journey, and had turned
aside a little into the house of Michas,
17:9. He was asked by him whence he came.  And he answered:  I am a
Levite of Bethlehem Juda, and I am going to dwell where I can, and
where I shall find a place to my advantage.
17:10. And Michas said:  Stay with me, and be unto me a father and a
priest, and I will give thee every year ten pieces of silver, and a
double suit of apparel, and thy victuals.
17:11. He was content, and abode with the man, and was unto him as one
of his sons.
17:12. And Michas filled his hand, and had the young man with him for
his priest, saying:
17:13. Now I know God will do me good, since I have a priest of the
race of the Levites.
Judges Chapter 18
The expedition of the men of Dan against Lais:  in their way they rob
Michas of his priest and his gods.
18:1. In those days there was no king in Israel, and the tribe of Dan
sought them an inheritance to dwell in:  for unto that day they had not
received their lot among the other tribes.
Not received, etc. . .They had their portions assigned them, Jos. 19.40.
But, through their own sloth, possessed as yet but a small part of it.
See Judges 1.34.
18:2. So the children of Dan sent five most valiant men, of their stock
and family, from Saraa and Esthaol, to spy out the land, and to view it
diligently:  and they said to them:  Go, and view the land.  They went on
their way, and when they came to mount Ephraim, they went into the
house of Michas, and rested there:
18:3. And knowing the voice of the young man the Levite, and lodging
with him, they said to him:  Who brought thee hither?  what dost thou
here?  why wouldst thou come hither?
18:4. He answered them:  Michas hath done such and such things for me,
and hath hired me to be his priest.
18:5. Then they desired him to consult the Lord, that they might know
whether their journey should be prosperous, and the thing should have
18:6. He answered them:  Go in peace:  the Lord looketh on your way, and
the journey that you go.
18:7. So the five men going on came to Lais:  and they saw how the
people dwelt therein without any fear, according to the custom of the
Sidonians, secure and easy, having no man at all to oppose them, being
very rich, and living separated, at a distance from Sidon and from all
18:8. And they returned to their brethren in Saraa and Esthaol, who
asked them what they had done:  to whom they answered:
18:9. Arise, and let us go up to them:  for we have seen the land which
is exceeding rich and fruitful:  neglect not, lose no time:  let us go
and possess it, there will be no difficulty.
18:10. We shall come to a people that is secure, into a spacious
country, and the Lord will deliver the place to us, in which there is
no want of any thing that groweth on the earth.
18:11. There went therefore of the kindred of Dan, to wit, from Saraa
and Esthaol, six hundred men, furnished with arms for war.
18:12. And going up they lodged in Cariathiarim of Juda:  which place
from that time is called the camp of Dan, and is behind Cariathiarim.
18:13. From thence they passed into mount Ephraim.  And when they were
come to the house of Michas,
18:14. The five men, that before had been sent to view the land of
Lais, said to the rest of their brethren:  You know that in these houses
there is an ephod and theraphim, and a graven and a molten god:  see
what you are pleased to do.
18:15. And when they had turned a little aside, they went into the
house of the young man the Levite, who was in the house of Michas:  and
they saluted him with words of peace.
18:16. And the six hundred men stood before the door, appointed with
18:17. But they that were gone into the house of the young man, went
about to take away the graven god, and the ephod, and the theraphim,
and the molten god, and the priest stood before the door, the six
hundred valiant men waiting not far off.
18:18. So they that were gone in took away the graven thing, the ephod,
and the idols, and the molten god, And the priest said to them:  What
are you doing?
18:19. And they said to him:  Hold thy peace, and put thy finger on thy
mouth, and come with us, that we may have thee for a father, and a
priest.  Whether is better for thee, to be a priest in the house of one
man, or in a tribe and family in Israel?
18:20. When he heard this, he agreed to their words, and took the
ephod, and the idols, and the graven god, and departed with them.
18:21. And when they were going forward, and had put before them the
children and the cattle, and all that was valuable,
18:22. And were now at a distance from the house of Michas, the men
that dwelt in the houses of Michas gathering together followed them,
18:23. And began to shout out after them.  They looked back, and said to
Michas:  What aileth thee?  Why dost thou cry?
18:24. And he answered:  You have taken away my gods which I have made
me, and the priest, and all that I have, and do you say:  What aileth
18:25. And the children of Dan said to him:  See thou say no more to us,
lest men enraged come upon thee, and thou perish with all thy house.
18:26. And so they went on the journey they had begun.  But Michas
seeing that they were stronger than he, returned to his house.
18:27. And the six hundred men took the priest, and the things we spoke
of before, and came to Lais, to a people that was quiet and secure, and
smote them with the edge of the sword:  and the city they burnt with
18:28. There being no man at all who brought them any succour, because
they dwelt far from Sidon, and had no society or business with any man.
And the city was in the land of Rohob:  and they rebuilt it, and dwelt
18:29. Calling the name of the city Dan, after the name of their
father, who was the son of Israel, which before was called Lais.
18:30. And they set up to themselves the graven idol, and Jonathan the
son of Gersam, the son of Moses, he and his sons were priests in the
tribe of Dan, until the day of their captivity.
18:31. And the idol of Michas remained with them all the time that the
house of God was in Silo.  In those days there was no king in Israel.
Judges Chapter 19
A Levite bringing home his wife, is lodged by an old man at Gabaa in
the tribe of Benjamin.  His wife is there abused by wicked men, and in
the morning found dead.  Her husband cutteth her body in pieces, and
sendeth to every tribe of Israel, requiring them to revenge the wicked
19:1. There was a certain Levite, who dwelt on the side of mount
Ephraim, who took a wife of Bethlehem Juda:
19:2. And she left him, and returned to her father's house in
Bethlehem, and abode with him four months.
19:3. And her husband followed her, willing to be reconciled with her,
and to speak kindly to her, and to bring her back with him, having with
him a servant and two asses:  and she received him, and brought him into
her father's house.  And when his father in law had heard this, and had
seen him, he met him with joy,
19:4. And embraced the man.  And the son in law tarried in the house of
his father in law three days, eating with him and drinking familiarly.
19:5. But on the fourth day, arising early in the morning, he desired
to depart.  But his father in law kept him, and said to him:  Taste first
a little bread, and strengthen thy stomach, and so thou shalt depart.
19:6. And they sat down together, and ate and drank.  And the father of
the young woman said to his son in law:  I beseech thee to stay here to
day, and let us make merry together.
19:7. But he rising up, began to be for departing.  And nevertheless his
father in law earnestly pressed him, and made him stay with him.
19:8. But when morning was come, the Levite prepared to go on his
journey.  And his father in law said to him again:  I beseech thee to
take a little meat, and strengthening thyself, till the day be farther
advanced, afterwards thou mayest depart.  And they ate together.
19:9. And the young man arose to set forward with his wife and servant.
And his father in law spoke to him again:  Consider that the day is
declining, and draweth toward evening:  tarry with me to day also, and
spend the day in mirth, and to morrow thou shalt depart, that thou
mayest go into thy house.
19:10. His son in law would not consent to his words:  but forthwith
went forward, and came over against Jebus, which by another name is
called Jerusalem, leading with him two asses loaden, and his concubine.
Concubine.  She was his lawful wife, but even lawful wives are
frequently in scripture called concubines.  See above, chap. 8. ver.
31.-ver. 16.  Jemini. . .That is, Benjamin.
19:11. And now they were come near Jebus, and the day was far spent:
and the servant said to his master:  Come, I beseech thee, let us turn
into the city of the Jebusites, and lodge there.
19:12. His master answered him:  I will not go into the town of another
nation, who are not of the children of Israel, but I will pass over to
19:13. And when I shall come thither, we will lodge there, or at least
in the city of Rama.
19:14. So they passed by Jebus, and went on their journey, and the sun
went down upon them when they were by Gabaa, which is in the tribe of
19:15. And they turned into it to lodge there.  And when they were come
in, they sat in the street of the city, for no man would receive them
19:16. And behold they saw an old man, returning out of the field and
from his work in the evening, and he also was of mount Ephraim, and
dwelt as a stranger in Gabaa; but the men of that country were the
children of Jemini.
19:17. And the old man lifting up his eyes, saw the man sitting with
his bundles in the street of the city, and said to him:  Whence comest
thou?  and whither goest thou?
19:18. He answered him:  We came out from Bethlehem Juda, and we are
going to our home, which is on the side of mount Ephraim, from whence
we went to Bethlehem:  and now we go to the house of God, and none will
receive us under his roof:
19:19. We have straw and hay for provender of the asses, and bread and
wine for the use of myself and of thy handmaid, and of the servant that
is with me:  we want nothing but lodging.
19:20. And the old man answered him:  Peace be with thee:  I will furnish
all things that are necessary:  only I beseech thee, stay not in the
19:21. And he brought him into his house, and gave provender to his
asses:  and after they had washed their feet, he entertained them with a
19:22. While they were making merry, and refreshing their bodies with
meat and drink, after the labour of the journey, the men of that city,
sons of Belial (that is, without yoke), came and beset the old man's
house, and began to knock at the door, calling to the master of the
house, and saying:  Bring forth the man that came into thy house, that
we may abuse him:
19:23. And the old man went out to them, and said:  Do not so, my
brethren, do not so wickedly:  because this man is come into my lodging,
and cease I pray you from this folly.
19:24. I have a maiden daughter, and this man hath a concubine, I will
bring them out to you, and you may humble them, and satisfy your lust:
only, I beseech you, commit not this crime against nature on the man.
19:25. They would not be satisfied with his words; which the man
seeing, brought out his concubine to them, and abandoned her to their
wickedness:  and when they had abused her all the night, they let her go
in the morning.
19:26. But the woman, at the dawning of the day, came to the door of
the house, where her lord lodged, and there fell down.
19:27. And in the morning the man arose, and opened the door, that he
might end the journey he had begun:  and behold his concubine lay before
the door with her hands spread on the threshold.
19:28. He thinking she was taking her rest, said to her:  Arise, and let
us be going.  But as she made no answer, perceiving she was dead, he
took her up, and laid her upon his ass, and returned to his house.
19:29. And when he was come home, he took a sword, and divided the dead
body of his wife with her bones into twelve parts, and sent the pieces
into all the borders of Israel.
19:30. And when every one had seen this, they all cried out:  There was
never such a thing done in Israel, from the day that our fathers came
up out of Egypt, until this day:  give sentence, and decree in common
what ought to be done.
Judges Chapter 20
The Israelites warring against Benjamin are twice defeated; but in the
third battle the Benjamites are all slain, saving six hundred men.
20:1. Then all the children of Israel went out, and gathered together
as one man, from Dan to Bersabee, with the land of Galaad, to the Lord
20:2. And all the chiefs of the people, and all the tribes of Israel,
met together in the assembly of the people of God, four hundred
thousand footmen fit for war.
20:3. (Nor were the children of Benjamin ignorant that the children of
Israel were come up to Maspha.)  And the Levite, the husband of the
woman that was killed being asked, how so great a wickedness had been
20:4. Answered:  I came into Gabaa, of Benjamin, with my wife, and there
20:5. And behold the men of that city, in the night beset the house
wherein I was, intending to kill me, and abused my wife with an
incredible fury of lust, so that at last she died.
20:6. And I took her and cut her in pieces, and sent the parts into all
the borders of your possession:  because there never was so heinous a
crime, and so great an abomination committed in Israel.
20:7. You are all here, O children of Israel, determine what you ought
20:8. And all the people standing, answered as by the voice of one man:
We will not return to our tents, neither shall any one of us go into
his own house:
20:9. But this we will do in common against Gabaa:
20:10. We will take ten men of a hundred out of all the tribes of
Israel, and a hundred out of a thousand, and a thousand out of ten
thousand, to bring victuals for the army, that we may fight against
Gabaa of Benjamin, and render to it for its wickedness, what it
20:11. And all Israel were gathered together against the city, as one
man, with one mind, and one counsel:
20:12. And they sent messengers to all the tribe of Benjamin, to say to
them:  Why hath so great an abomination been found among you?
20:13. Deliver up the men of Gabaa, that have committed this heinous
crime, that they may die, and the evil may be taken away out of Israel.
But they would not hearken to the proposition of their brethren the
children of Israel:
20:14. But out of all the cities which were of their lot, they gathered
themselves together into Gabaa, to aid them, and to fight against the
whole people of Israel.
20:15. And there were found of Benjamin five and twenty thousand men
that drew the sword, besides the inhabitants of Gabaa,
20:16. Who were seven hundred most valiant men, fighting with the left
hand as well as with the right:  and slinging stones so sure that they
could hit even a hair, and not miss by the stone's going on either
20:17. Of the men of Israel also, beside the children of Benjamin, were
found four hundred thousand that drew swords and were prepared to
20:18. And they arose and came to the house of God, that is, to Silo:
and they consulted God, and said:  Who shall be in our army the first to
go to the battle against the children of Benjamin?  And the Lord
answered them:  Let Juda be your leader.
20:19. And forthwith the children of Israel rising in the morning,
camped by Gabaa:
20:20. And going out from thence to fight against Benjamin, began to
assault the city.
20:21. And the children of Benjamin coming out of Gabaa slew of the
children of Israel that day two and twenty thousand men.
20:22. Again Israel, trusting in their strength and their number, set
their army in array in the same place, where they had fought before:
Trusting in their strength. . .The Lord suffered them to be overthrown
and many of them to be slain, though their cause was just; partly in
punishment of the idolatry which they exercised or tolerated in the
tribe of Dan, and elsewhere; and partly because they trusted in their
own strength; and therefore, though he bid them fight, he would not
give them the victory, till they were thoroughly humbled and had
learned to trust in him alone.
20:23. Yet so that they first went up and wept before the Lord until
night:  and consulted him and said:  Shall I go out any more to fight
against the children of Benjamin my brethren or not?  And he answered
them:  Go up against them, and join battle.
20:24. And when the children of Israel went out the next day to fight
against the children of Benjamin,
20:25. The children of Benjamin sallied forth out of the gates of
Gabaa:  and meeting them, made so great a slaughter of them, as to kill
eighteen thousand men that drew the sword.
20:26. Wherefore all the children of Israel came to the house of God,
and sat and wept before the Lord:  and they fasted that day till the
evening, and offered to him holocausts, and victims of peace offerings,
20:27. And inquired of him concerning their state.  At that time the ark
of the covenant of the Lord was there,
20:28. And Phinees, the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron, was over the
house.  So they consulted the Lord, and said:  Shall we go out any more
to fight against the children of Benjamin, our brethren, or shall we
cease?  And the Lord said to them:  Go up, for to morrow I will deliver
them into your hands.
20:29. And the children of Israel set ambushes round about the city of
20:30. And they drew up their army against Benjamin the third time, as
they had done the first and second.
20:31. And the children of Benjamin boldly issued out of the city, and
seeing their enemies flee, pursued them a long way, so as to wound and
kill some of them, as they had done the first and second day, whilst
they fled by two highways, whereof one goeth up to Bethel and the other
to Gabaa, and they slew about thirty men:
20:32. For they thought to cut them off as they did before.  But they
artfully feigning a flight, designed to draw them away from the city,
and by their seeming to flee, to bring them to the highways aforesaid.
20:33. Then all the children of Israel rising up out of the places
where they were, set their army in battle array, in the place which is
called Baalthamar.  The ambushes also, which were about the city, began
by little and little to come forth,
20:34. And to march from the west side of the city.  And other ten
thousand men chosen out of all Israel, attacked the inhabitants of the
city.  And the battle grew hot against the children of Benjamin:  and
they understood not that present death threatened them on every side.
20:35. And the Lord defeated them before the children of Israel, and
they slew of them in that day five and twenty thousand, and one
hundred, all fighting men, and that drew the sword.
20:36. But the children of Benjamin, when they saw themselves to be too
weak, began to flee.  Which the children of Israel seeing, gave them
place to flee, that they might come to the ambushes that were prepared,
which they had set near the city.
20:37. And they that were in ambush arose on a sudden out of their
coverts, and whilst Benjamin turned their backs to the slayers, went
into the city, and smote it with the edge of the sword.
20:38. Now the children of Israel had given a sign to them, whom they
had laid in ambushes, that after they had taken the city, they should
make a fire:  that by the smoke rising on high, they might shew that the
city was taken.
20:39. And when the children of Israel saw this in the battle, (for the
children of Benjamin thought they fled, and pursued them vigorously,
killing thirty men of their army)
20:40. And perceived, as it were, a pillar of smoke rise up from the
city; and Benjamin looking back, saw that the city was taken, and that
the flames ascended on high:
20:41. They that before had made as if they fled, turning their faces,
stood bravely against them.  Which the children of Benjamin seeing,
turned their backs,
20:42. And began to go towards the way of the desert, the enemy
pursuing them thither also.  And they that fired the city came also out
to meet them.
20:43. And so it was, that they were slain on both sides by the
enemies, and there was no rest of their men dying.  They fell and were
beaten down on the east side of the city of Gabaa.
20:44. And they that were slain in the same place, were eighteen
thousand men, all most valiant soldiers.
20:45. And when they that remained of Benjamin saw this, they fled into
the wilderness, and made towards the rock that is called Remmon.  In
that flight also, as they were straggling, and going different ways;
they slew of them five thousand men.  And as they went farther, they
still pursued them, and slew also other two thousand.
20:46. And so it came to pass, that all that were slain of Benjamin, in
divers places, were five and twenty thousand fighting men, most valiant
20:47. And there remained of all the number of Benjamin only six
hundred men that were able to escape, and flee to the wilderness:  and
they abode in the rock Remmon four months.
20:48. But the children of Israel returning, put all the remains of the
city to the sword, both men and beasts, and all the cities and villages
of Benjamin were consumed with devouring flames.
Judges Chapter 21
The tribe of Benjamin is saved from being utterly extinct, by providing
wives for the six hundred that remained.
21:1. Now the children of Israel had also sworn in Maspha, saying:  None
of us shall give of his daughters to the children of Benjamin to wife.
21:2. And they all came to the house of God in Silo, and sitting before
him till the evening, lifted up their voices, and began to lament and
weep, saying:
21:3. O Lord God of Israel, why is so great an evil come to pass in thy
people, that this day one tribe should be taken away from among us?
21:4. And rising early the next day, they built an altar:  and offered
there holocausts, and victims of peace, and they said:
21:5. Who is there among all the tribes of Israel that came not up with
the army of the Lord?  for they had bound themselves with a great oath,
when they were in Maspha, that whosoever were wanting should be slain.
21:6. And the children of Israel being moved with repentance for their
brother Benjamin, began to say:  One tribe is taken away from Israel.
21:7. Whence shall they take wives?  For we have all in general sworn,
not to give our daughters to them.
21:8. Therefore they said:  Who is there of all the tribes of Israel,
that came not up to the Lord to Maspha?  And, behold, the inhabitants of
Jabes Galaad were found not to have been in that army.
21:9. (At that time also when they were in Silo, no one of them was
found there,)
21:10. So they sent ten thousand of the most valiant men, and commanded
them, saying:  Go and put the inhabitants of Jabes Galaad to the sword,
with their wives and their children.
21:11. And this is what you shall observe:  Every male, and all women
that have known men, you shall kill, but the virgins you shall save.
21:12. And there were found of Jabes Galaad four hundred virgins, that
had not known the bed of a man, and they brought them to the camp in
Silo, into the land of Chanaan.
21:13. And they sent messengers to the children of Benjamin, that were
in the rock Remmon, and commanded them to receive them in peace.
21:14. And the children of Benjamin came at that time, and wives were
given them of Jabes Galaad:  but they found no others, whom they might
give in like manner.
21:15. And all Israel was very sorry, and repented for the destroying
of one tribe out of Israel.
21:16. And the ancients said:  What shall we do with the rest, that have
not received wives?  for all the women in Benjamin are dead.
21:17. And we must use all care, and provide with great diligence, that
one tribe be not destroyed out of Israel.
21:18. For as to our own daughters we cannot give them, being bound
with an oath and a curse, whereby we said:  Cursed be he that shall give
Benjamin any of his daughters to wife.
21:19. So they took counsel, and said:  Behold, there is a yearly
solemnity of the Lord in Silo, which is situate on the north of the
city of Bethel, and on the east side of the way, that goeth from Bethel
to Sichem, and on the south of the town of Lebona.
21:20. And they commanded the children of Benjamin and said:  Go, and
lie hid in the vineyards,
21:21. And when you shall see the daughters of Silo come out, as the
custom is, to dance, come ye on a sudden out of the vineyards, and
catch you every man his wife among them, and go into the land of
21:22. And when their fathers and their brethren shall come, and shall
begin to complain against you, and to chide, we will say to them:  Have
pity on them:  for they took them not away as by the right of war or
conquest, but when they asked to have them, you gave them not, and the
fault was committed on your part.
21:23. And the children of Benjamin did as they had been commanded:
and, according to their number, they carried off for themselves every
man his wife of them that were dancing:  and they went into their
possession, and built up their cities, and dwelt in them.
21:24. The children of Israel also returned by their tribes, and
families, to their dwellings.  In those days there was no king in
Israel:  but every one did that which seemed right to himself.
THE BOOK OF RUTH
This Book is called RUTH, from the name of the person whose history is
here recorded:  who, being a Gentile, became a convert to the true
faith, and marrying Booz, the great-grandfather of David, was one of
those from whom Christ sprung according to the flesh, and an
illustrious figure of the Gentile church.  It is thought this book was
written by the prophet Samuel.
Ruth Chapter 1
Elimelech of Bethlehem going with his wife Noemi, and two sons, into
the land of Moab, dieth there.  His sons marry wives of that country and
die without issue.  Noemi returneth home with her daughter in law Ruth,
who refuseth to part with her.
1:1. In the days of the judges, when the judges ruled, there came a
famine in the land.  And a certain man of Bethlehem Juda, went to
sojourn in the land of Moab with his wife and his two sons.
1:2. He was named Elimelech, and his wife Noemi:  and his two sons, the
one Mahalon, and the other Chelion, Ephrathites of Bethlehem Juda.  And
entering into the country of Moab, they abode there.
1:3. And Elimelech the husband of Noemi died:  and she remained with her
1:4. And they took wives of the women of Moab, of which one was called
Orpha, and the other Ruth.  And they dwelt their ten years,
1:5. And they both died, to wit, Mahalon and Chelion:  and the woman was
left alone, having lost both her sons and her husband.
1:6. And she arose to go from the land of Moab to her own country, with
both her daughters in law:  for she had heard that the Lord had looked
upon his people, and had given them food.
1:7. Wherefore she went forth out of the place of her sojournment, with
both her daughters in law:  and being now in the way to return into the
land of Juda,
1:8. She said to them:  Go ye home to your mothers, the Lord deal
mercifully with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me.
1:9. May he grant you to find rest in the houses of the husbands whom
you shall take.  And she kissed them.  And they lifted up their voice,
and began to weep,
1:10. And to say:  We will go on with thee to thy people.
1:11. But she answered them:  Return, my daughters:  why come ye with me?
have I any more sons in my womb, that you may hope for husbands of me?
1:12. Return again, my daughters, and go your ways:  for I am now spent
with age, and not fit for wedlock.  Although I might conceive this
night, and bear children,
1:13. If you would wait till they were grown up, and come to man's
estate, you would be old women before you marry.  Do not so, my
daughters, I beseech you:  for I am grieved the more for your distress,
and the hand of the Lord is gone out against me.
1:14. And they lifted up their voice, and began to weep again:  Orpha
kissed her mother in law, and returned:  Ruth stuck close to her mother
1:15. And Noemi said to her:  Behold thy kinswoman is returned to her
people, and to her gods, go thou with her.
To her gods, etc. . .Noemi did not mean to persuade Ruth to return to
the false gods she had formerly worshipped:  but by this manner of
speech, insinuated to her, that if she would go with her, she must
renounce her false gods and return to the Lord the God of Israel.
1:16. She answered:  Be not against me, to desire that I should leave
thee and depart:  for whithersoever thou shalt go, I will go:  and where
thou shalt dwell, I also will dwell.  Thy people shall be my people, and
thy God my God.
1:17. The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die:
and there will I be buried.  The Lord do so and so to me, and add more
also, if aught but death part me and thee.
The Lord do so and so, etc. . .A form of swearing usual in the history
of the Old Testament, by which the person wished such and such evils to
fall upon them, if they did not do what they said.
1:18. Then Noemi seeing that Ruth was steadfastly determined to go with
her, would not be against it, nor persuade her any more to return to
her friends:
1:19. So they went together, and came to Bethlehem.  And when they were
come into the city, the report was quickly spread among all:  and the
women said:  This is that Noemi.
1:20. But she said to them:  Call me not Noemi (that is, beautiful,) but
call me Mara (that is, bitter), for the Almighty hath quite filled me
with bitterness.
1:21. I went out full and the Lord hath brought me back empty.  Why then
do you call me Noemi, whom the Lord hath humbled, and the Almighty hath
1:22. So Noemi came with Ruth, the Moabitess, her daughter in law, from
the land of her sojournment:  and returned into Bethlehem, in the
beginning of the barley harvest.
Ruth Chapter 2
Ruth gleaneth in the field of Booz, who sheweth her favour.
2:1. Now her husband Elimelech had a kinsman, a powerful man, and very
rich, whose name was Booz.
2:3. And Ruth, the Moabitess, said to her mother in law:  If thou wilt,
I will go into the field, and glean the ears of corn that escape the
hands of the reapers, wheresoever I shall find grace with a
householder, that will be favourable to me.  And she answered her:  Go,
my daughter.
2:3. She went, therefore, and gleaned the ears of corn after the
reapers.  And it happened that the owner of that field was Booz, who was
of the kindred of Elimelech.
2:4. And behold, he came out of Bethlehem, and said to the reapers:  The
Lord be with you.  And they answered him:  The Lord bless thee.
2:5. And Booz said to the young man that was set over the reapers:
Whose maid is this ?
2:6. And he answered him:  This is the Moabitess, who came with Noemi,
from the land of Moab,
2:7. And she desired leave to glean the ears of corn that remain,
following the steps of the reapers:  and she hath been in the field from
morning till now, and hath not gone home for one moment.
2:8. And Booz said to Ruth:  Hear me, daughter, do not go to glean in
any other field, and do not depart from this place:  but keep with my
2:9. And follow where they reap.  For I have charged my young men, not
to molest thee:  and if thou art thirsty, go to the vessels, and drink
of the waters whereof the servants drink.
2:10. She fell on her face, and worshipping upon the ground, said to
him:  Whence cometh this to me, that I should find grace before thy
eyes, and that thou shouldst vouchsafe to take notice of me, a woman of
another country?
2:11. And he answered her:  All hath been told me, that thou hast done
to thy mother in law after the death of thy husband:  and how thou hast
left thy parents, and the land wherein thou wast born, and art come to
a people which thou knewest not heretofore.
2:12. The Lord render unto thee for thy work, and mayst thou receive a
full reward of the Lord the God of Israel, to whom thou art come, and
under whose wings thou art fled.
2:13. And she said:  I have found grace in thy eyes, my lord, who hast
comforted me, and hast spoken to the heart of thy handmaid, who am not
like to one of thy maids.
2:14. And Booz said to her:  At mealtime come thou hither, and eat of
the bread, and dip thy morsel in the vinegar.  So she sat at the side of
the reapers, and she heaped to herself frumenty, and ate and was
filled, and took the leavings.
2:15. And she arose from thence, to glean the ears of corn as before.
And Booz commanded his servants, saying:  If she would even reap with
you, hinder her not:
2:16. And let fall some of your handfuls of purpose, and leave them,
that she may gather them without shame, and let no man rebuke her when
she gathereth them.
2:17. She gleaned therefore in the field till evening:  and beating out
with a rod, and threshing what she had gleaned, she found about the
measure of an ephi of barley, that is, three bushels:
2:18. Which she took up, and returned into the city, and shewed it to
her mother in law:  moreover, she brought out, and gave her of the
remains of her meat, wherewith she had been filled.
2:19. And her mother in law said to her:  Where hast thou gleaned today,
and where hast thou wrought?  blessed be he that hath had pity on thee.
And she told her with whom she had wrought:  and she told the man's
name, that he was called Booz.
2:20. And Noemi answered her:  Blessed be he of the Lord:  because the
same kindness which he shewed to the living, he hath kept also to the
dead.  And again she said:  The man is our kinsman.
2:21. And Ruth said:  He also charged me, that I should keep close to
his reapers, till all the corn should be reaped.
2:22. And her mother in law said to her:  It is better for thee, my
daughter, to go out to reap with his maids, lest in another man's field
some one may resist thee.
2:23. So she kept close to the maids of Booz:  and continued to glean
with them, till all the barley and the wheat were laid up in the barns.
Ruth Chapter 3
Ruth instructed by her mother in law lieth at Booz's feet, claiming him
for her husband by the law of affinity:  she receiveth a good answer,
and six measures of barley.
3:1. After she was returned to her mother in law, Noemi said to her:  My
daughter, I will seek rest for thee, and will provide that it may be
well with thee.
3:2. This Booz, with whose maids thou wast joined in the field, is our
near kinsman, and behold this night he winnoweth barley in the
threshingfloor.
3:3. Wash thyself therefore and anoint thee, and put on thy best
garments, and go down to the barnfloor:  but let not the man see thee,
till he shall have done eating and drinking.
3:4. And when he shall go to sleep, mark the place wherein he sleepeth:
and thou shalt go in, and lift up the clothes wherewith he is covered
towards his feet, and shalt lay thyself down there:  and he will tell
thee what thou must do.
3:5. She answered:  Whatsoever thou shalt command, I will do.
3:6. And she went down to the barnfloor, and did all that her mother in
law had bid her.
3:7. And when Booz had eaten, and drunk, and was merry, he went to
sleep by the heap of sheaves, and she came softly, and uncovering his
feet, laid herself down.
3:8. And behold, when it was now midnight the man was afraid, and
troubled:  and he saw a woman lying at his feet,
3:9. And he said to her:  Who art thou ?  And she answered:  I am Ruth,
thy handmaid:  spread thy coverlet over thy servant, for thou art a near
3:10. And he said:  Blessed art thou of the Lord, my daughter, and thy
latter kindness has surpassed the former:  because thou hast not
followed young men either poor or rich.
Thy latter kindness, viz. . .to thy husband deceased in seeking to keep
up his name and family by marrying his relation according to the law,
and not following after young men.  For Booz, it seems, was then in
3:11. Fear not therefore, but whatsoever thou shalt say to me I will do
to thee.  For all the people that dwell within the gates of my city,
know that thou art a virtuous woman.
3:12. Neither do I deny myself to be near of kin, but there is another
nearer than I.
3:13. Rest thou this night:  and when morning is come, if he will take
thee by the right of kindred, all is well:  but if he will not, I will
undoubtedly take thee, so the Lord liveth:  sleep till the morning.
3:14. So she slept at his feet till the night was going off.  And she
arose before men could know one another, and Booz said:  Beware lest any
man know that thou camest hither.
3:15. And again he said:  Spread thy mantle, wherewith thou art covered,
and hold it with both hands.  And when she spread it and held it, he
measured six measures of barley, and laid it upon her.  And she carried
it, and went into the city,
3:16. And came to her mother in law; who said to her:  What hast thou
done, daughter?  And she told her all that the man had done to her.
3:17. And she said:  Behold he hath given me six measures of barley:  for
he said:  I will not have thee return empty to thy mother in law.
3:18. And Noemi said:  Wait, my daughter, till we see what end the thing
will have.  For the man will not rest until he have accomplished what he
Ruth Chapter 4
Upon the refusal of the nearer kinsman, Booz marrieth Ruth, who
bringeth forth Obed, the grandfather of David.
4:1. Then Booz went up to the gate, and sat there.  And when he had seen
the kinsman going by, of whom he had spoken before, he said to him,
calling him by his name:  Turn aside for a little while, and sit down
here.  He turned aside, and sat down.
4:2. And Booz, taking ten men of the ancients of the city, said to
them:  Sit ye down here.
4:3. They sat down, and he spoke to the kinsman:  Noemi, who is returned
from the country of Moab will sell a parcel of land that belonged to
our brother Elimelech.
4:4. I would have thee to understand this, and would tell thee before
all that sit here, and before the ancients of my people.  If thou wilt
take possession of it by the right of kindred:  buy it, and possess it:
but if it please thee not, tell me so, that I may know what I have to
do.  For there is no near kinsman besides thee, who art first, and me,
who am second.  But he answered:  I will buy the field.
4:5. And Booz said to him:  When thou shalt buy the field at the woman's
hand, thou must take also Ruth, the Moabitess, who was the wife of the
deceased:  to raise up the name of thy kinsman in his inheritance.
4:6. He answered:  I yield up my right of next akin:  for I must not cut
off the posterity of my own family.  Do thou make use of my privilege,
which I profess I do willingly forego.
4:7. Now this in former times was the manner in Israel between kinsmen,
that if at any time one yielded his right to another:  that the grant
might be sure, the man put off his shoe and gave it to his neighbour;
this was a testimony of cession of right in Israel.
4:8. So Booz said to his kinsman:  Put off thy shoe.  And immediately he
took it off from his foot.
4:9. And he said to the ancients, and to all the people:  You are
witnesses this day, that I have bought all that was Elimelech's, and
Chelion's, and Mahalon's, of the hand of Noemi:
4:10. And have taken to wife Ruth, the Moabitess, the wife of Mahalon,
to raise up the name of the deceased in his inheritance lest his name
be cut off, from among his family and his brethren and his people.  You,
I say, are witnesses of this thing.
4:11. Then all the people that were in the gate, and the ancients,
answered:  We are witnesses:  The Lord make this woman who cometh into
thy house, like Rachel, and Lia, who built up the house of Israel:  that
she may be an example of virtue in Ephrata, and may have a famous name
in Bethlehem:
Ephrata. . .Another name of Bethlehem.
4:12. And that the house may be, as the house of Phares, whom Thamar
bore unto Juda, of the seed which the Lord shall give thee of this
young woman.
4:13. Booz therefore took Ruth, and married her:  and went in unto her,
and the Lord gave her to conceive, and to bear a son.
4:14. And the women said to Noemi:  Blessed be the Lord, who hath not
suffered thy family to want a successor:  that his name should be
preserved in Israel.
4:15. And thou shouldst have one to comfort thy soul, and cherish thy
old age.  For he is born of thy daughter in law:  who loveth thee:  and
is much better to thee, than if thou hadst seven sons.
4:16. And Noemi taking the child, laid it in her bosom, and she carried
it, and was a nurse unto it.
4:17. And the women, her neighbours, congratulating with her, and
saying, There is a son born to Noemi, called his name Obed:  he is the
father of Isai, the father of David.
4:18. These are the generations of Phares:  Phares begot Esron,
4:19. Esron begot Aram, Aram begot Aminadab,
4:20. Aminadab begot Nahasson, Nahasson begot Salmon,
4:21. Salmon begot Booz, Booz begot Obed,
4:22. Obed begot Isai, Isai begot David.
THE FIRST BOOK OF SAMUEL, OTHERWISE CALLED THE FIRST BOOK OF KINGS
This and the following Book are called by the Hebrews the books of
Samuel, because they contain the history of Samuel, and of the two
kings, Saul and David, whom he anointed.  They are more commonly named
by the Fathers, the first and second book of kings.  As to the writer of
them, it is the common opinion that Samuel composed the first book, as
far as the twenty-fifth chapter; and that the prophets Nathan and Gad
finished the first, and wrote the second book.  See 1 Paralipomenon,
alias 1 Chronicles, 29.29.
1 Kings Chapter 1
Anna the wife of Elcana being barren, by vow and prayer obtaineth a
son:  whom she calleth Samuel:  and presenteth him to the service of God
in Silo, according to her vow.
1:1. There was a man of Ramathaimsophim, of Mount Ephraim, and his name
was Elcana, the son of Jeroham, the son of Eliu, the son of Thohu, the
son of Suph, an Ephraimite:
An Ephraimite. . .He was of the tribe of Levi, 1.  Par. 6.34, but is
called an Ephraimite from dwelling in mount Ephraim.
1:2. And he had two wives, the name of one was Anna, and the name of
the other Phenenna.  Phenenna had children:  but Anna had no children.
1:3. And this man went up out of his city upon the appointed days, to
adore and to offer sacrifice to the Lord of hosts in Silo.  And the two
sons of Heli, Ophni and Phinees, were there priests of the Lord.
1:4. Now the day came, and Elcana offered sacrifice, and gave to
Phenenna, his wife, and to all her sons and daughters, portions:
1:5. But to Anna he gave one portion with sorrow, because he loved
Anna.  And the Lord had shut up her womb.
1:6. Her rival also afflicted her, and troubled her exceedingly,
insomuch that she upbraided her, that the Lord had shut up her womb:
1:7. And thus she did every year, when the time returned, that they
went up to the temple of the Lord:  and thus she provoked her:  but Anna
wept, and did not eat.
1:8. Then Elcana, her husband, said to her:  Anna, why weepest thou?  and
why dost thou not eat?  and why dost thou afflict thy heart?  Am not I
better to thee than ten children?
1:9. So Anna arose after she had eaten and drunk in Silo:  And Heli, the
priest, sitting upon a stool before the door of the temple of the Lord;
1:10. As Anna had her heart full of grief, she prayed to the Lord,
shedding many tears,
1:11. And she made a vow, saying:  O Lord of hosts, if thou wilt look
down, and wilt be mindful of me, and not forget thy handmaid, and wilt
give to thy servant a manchild:  I will give him to the Lord all the
days of his life, and no razor shall come upon his head.
1:12. And it came to pass, as she multiplied prayers before the Lord,
that Heli observed her mouth.
1:13. Now Anna spoke in her heart, and only her lips moved, but her
voice was not heard at all.  Heli therefore thought her to be drunk,
1:14. And said to her:  How long wilt thou be drunk?  digest a little the
wine, of which thou hast taken too much.
1:15. Anna answering, said:  Not so, my lord:  for I am an exceeding
unhappy woman, and have drunk neither wine nor any strong drink, but I
have poured out my soul before the Lord.
1:16. Count not thy handmaid for one of the daughters of Belial:  for
out of the abundance of my sorrow and grief have I spoken till now.
1:17. Then Heli said to her:  Go in peace:  and the God of Israel grant
thee thy petition, which thou hast asked of him.
1:18. And she said:  Would to God thy handmaid may find grace in thy
eyes.  So the woman went on her way, and ate, and her countenance was no
more changed.
1:19. And they rose in the morning, and worshipped before the Lord:  and
they returned, and came into their house at Ramatha.  And Elcana knew
Anna his wife:  And the Lord remembered her.
1:20. And it came to pass when the time was come about, Anna conceived
and bore a son, and called his name Samuel:  because she had asked him
of the Lord.
Samuel. . .This name imports, asked of God.
1:21. And Elcana, her husband, went up, and all his house, to offer to
the Lord the solemn sacrifice, and his vow.
1:22. But Anna went not up:  for she said to her husband:  I will not go
till the child be weaned, and till I may carry him, that he may appear
before the Lord, and may abide always there.
1:23. And Elcana, her husband, said to her:  Do what seemeth good to
thee, and stay till thou wean him:  and I pray that the Lord may fulfil
his word.  So the woman staid at home, and gave her son suck, till she
1:24. And after she had weaned him, she carried him with her, with
three calves, and three bushels of flour, and a bottle of wine, and she
brought him to the house of the Lord in Silo.  Now the child was as yet
1:25. And they immolated a calf, and offered the child to Heli.
1:26. And Anna said:  I beseech thee, my lord, as thy soul liveth, my
lord:  I am that woman, who stood before thee here praying to the Lord.
1:27. For this child did I pray, and the Lord hath granted me my
petition, which I asked of him.
1:28. Therefore I also have lent him to the Lord all the days of his
life, he shall be lent to the Lord.  And they adored the Lord there.  And
Anna prayed, and said:
1 Kings Chapter 2
The canticle of Anna.  The wickedness of the sons of Heli:  for which
they are not duly corrected by their father.  A prophecy against the
house of Heli.
2:1. My heart hath rejoiced in the Lord, and my horn is exalted in my
God:  my mouth is enlarged over my enemies:  because I have joyed in thy
My horn. . .The horn in the scriptures signifies strength, power, the
horn is said to be exalted, when a person receives an increase of
strength or glory.
2:2. There is none holy as the Lord is:  for there is no other beside
thee, and there is none strong like our God.
2:3. Do not multiply to speak lofty things, boasting:  let old matters
depart from your mouth:  for the Lord is a God of all knowledge, and to
him are thoughts prepared.
2:4. The bow of the mighty is overcome, and the weak are girt with
2:5. They that were full before, have hired out themselves for bread:
and the hungry are filled, so that the barren hath borne many:  and she
that had many children is weakened.
2:6. The Lord killeth and maketh alive, he bringeth down to hell, and
bringeth back again.
2:7. The Lord maketh poor and maketh rich, he humbleth and he exalteth:
2:8. He raiseth up the needy from the dust, and lifteth up the poor
from the dunghill:  that he may sit with princes, and hold the throne of
glory.  For the poles of the earth are the Lord's, and upon them he hath
set the world.
2:9. He will keep the feet of his saints, and the wicked shall be
silent in darkness; because no man shall prevail by his own strength.
2:10. The adversaries of the Lord shall fear him:  and upon them shall
he thunder in the heavens:  The Lord shall judge the ends of the earth,
and he shall give empire to his king, and shall exalt the horn of his
2:11. And Elcana went to Ramatha, to his house:  but the child
ministered in the sight of the Lord before the face of Heli the priest.
2:12. Now the sons of Heli were children of Belial, not knowing the
2:13. Nor the office of the priests to the people:  but whosoever had
offered a sacrifice, the servant of the priest came, while the flesh
was in boiling, with a fleshhook of three teeth in his hand,
2:14. And thrust it into the kettle, or into the cauldron, or into the
pot, or into the pan:  and all that the fleshhook brought up, the priest
took to himself.  Thus did they to all Israel that came to Silo.
2:15. Also before they burnt the fat, the servant of the priest came,
and said to the man that sacrificed:  Give me flesh to boil for the
priest:  for I will not take of thee sodden flesh, but raw.
2:16. And he that sacrificed said to him:  Let the fat first be burnt to
day, according to the custom, and then take to thee as much as thy soul
desireth.  But he answered, and said to him:  Not so:  but thou shalt
give it me now, or else I will take it by force.
2:17. Wherefore the sin of the young men was exceeding great before the
Lord:  because they withdrew men from the sacrifice of the Lord.
2:18. But Samuel ministered before the face of the Lord:  being a child
girded with a linen ephod.
2:19. And his mother made him a little coat, which she brought to him
on the appointed days, when she went up with her husband, to offer the
solemn sacrifice.
2:20. And Heli blessed Elcana and his wife:  and he said to him:  The
Lord give thee seed of this woman, for the loan thou hast lent to the
Lord.  And they went to their own home.
2:21. And the Lord visited Anna, and she conceived, and bore three
sons, and two daughters:  and the child Samuel became great before the
2:22. Now Heli was very old, and he heard all that his sons did to all
Israel:  and how they lay with the women that waited at the door of the
2:23. And he said to them:  Why do ye these kinds of things, which I
hear, very wicked things, from all the people?
2:24. Do not so, my sons:  for it is no good report that I hear, that
you make the people of the Lord to transgress.
2:25. If one man shall sin against another, God may be appeased in his
behalf:  but if a man shall sin against the Lord, who shall pray for
him?  And they hearkened not to the voice of their father, because the
Lord would slay them.
Who shall pray for him. . .By this word Heli would have his sons
understand, that by their wicked abuse of sacred things, and of the
very sacrifices which were appointed to appease the Lord, they deprived
themselves of the ordinary means of reconciliation with God; which was
by sacrifices.  The more, because they were the chief priests whose
business it was to intercede for all others, they had no other to offer
sacrifices and to make atonement for them.  Ibid.  Because the Lord would
slay them. . .In consequence of their manifold sacrileges, he would not
soften their hearts with his efficacious grace, but was determined to
destroy them.
2:26. But the child Samuel advanced, and grew on, and pleased both the
Lord and men.
2:27. And there came a man of God to Heli, and said to him:  Thus saith
the Lord:  Did I not plainly appear to thy father's house, when they
were in Egypt in the house of Pharao?
2:28. And I chose him out of all the tribes of Israel to be my priest,
to go up to my altar, and burn incense to me, and to wear the ephod
before me:  and I gave to thy father's house of all the sacrifices of
the children of Israel.
2:29. Why have you kicked away my victims, and my gifts which I
commanded to be offered in the temple:  and thou hast rather honoured
thy sons than me, to eat the firstfruits of every sacrifice of my
people Israel?
2:30. Wherefore thus saith the Lord the God of Israel:  I said indeed
that thy house, and the house of thy father, should minister in my
sight, for ever.  But now saith the Lord:  Far be this from me:  but
whosoever shall glorify me, him will I glorify:  but they that despise
me, shall be despised.
2:31. Behold the days come:  and I will cut off thy arm, and the arm of
thy father's house, that there shall not be an old man in thy house.
2:32. And thou shalt see thy rival in the temple, in all the prosperity
of Israel, and there shall not be an old man in thy house for ever.
Thy rival. . .A priest of another race.  This was partly fulfilled, when
Abiathar, of the race of Heli, was removed from the priesthood, and
Sadoc, who was of another line, was substituted in his place.  But it
was more fully accomplished in the New Testament, when the priesthood
of Aaron gave place to that of Christ.
2:33. However, I will not altogether take away a man of thee from my
altar:  but that thy eyes may faint, and thy soul be spent:  and a great
part of thy house shall die, when they come to man's estate.
2:34. And this shall be a sign to thee, that shall come upon thy two
sons, Ophni and Phinees:  in one day they shall both of them die.
2:35. And I will raise me up a faithful priest, who shall do according
to my heart, and my soul and I will build him a faithful house, and he
shall walk all days before my anointed.
2:36. And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall remain in thy
house shall come that he may be prayed for, and shall offer a piece of
silver, and a roll of bread, and shall say:  Put me, I beseech thee, to
somewhat of the priestly office, that I may eat a morsel of bread.
1 Kings Chapter 3
Samuel is four times called by the Lord:  who revealeth to him the evil
that shall fall on Heli, and his house.
3:1. Now the child Samuel ministered to the Lord before Heli, and the
word of the Lord was precious in those days, there was no manifest
Precious. . .That is, rare.
3:2. And it came to pass one day when Heli lay in his place, and his
eyes were grown dim, that he could not see:
3:3. Before the lamp of God went out, Samuel slept in the temple of the
Lord, where the ark of God was.
3:4. And the Lord called Samuel.  And he answered:  Here am I.
3:5. And he ran to Heli, and said:  Here am I:  for thou didst call me.
He said:  I did not call:  go back and sleep.  And he went and slept.
3:6. And the Lord called Samuel again.  And Samuel arose and went to
Heli, and said:  Here am I:  for thou calledst me.  He answered:  I did
not call thee, my son:  return and sleep.
3:7. Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, neither had the word of the
Lord been revealed to him.
3:8. And the Lord called Samuel again the third time.  And he arose up
and went to Heli,
3:9. And said:  Here am I:  for thou didst call me.  Then Heli understood
that the Lord called the child, and he said to Samuel:  Go, and sleep:
and if he shall call thee any more, thou shalt say:  Speak, Lord, for
thy servant heareth.  So Samuel went, and slept in his place.
3:10. And the Lord came, and stood, and he called, as he had called the
other times, Samuel, Samuel.  And Samuel said:  Speak, Lord, for thy
servant heareth.
3:11. And the Lord said to Samuel:  Behold I do a thing in Israel:  and
whosoever shall hear it, both his ears shall tingle.
3:12. In that day I will raise up against Heli all the things I have
spoken concerning his house:  I will begin, and I will make an end.
3:13. For I have foretold unto him, that I will judge his house for
ever, for iniquity, because he knew that his sons did wickedly, and did
not chastise them.
3:14. Therefore have I sworn to the house of Heli, that the iniquity of
his house shall not be expiated with victims nor offerings for ever.
3:15. And Samuel slept till morning, and opened the doors of the house
of the Lord.  And Samuel feared to tell the vision to Heli.
3:16. Then Heli called Samuel, and said:  Samuel, my son.  And he
answered:  Here am I.
3:17. And he asked him:  What is the word that the Lord hath spoken to
thee?  I beseech thee hide it not from me.  May God do so and so to thee,
and add so and so, if thou hide from me one word of all that were said
3:18. So Samuel told him all the words, and did not hide them from him.
And he answered:  It is the Lord:  let him do what is good in his sight.
3:19. And Samuel grew, and the Lord was with him, and not one of his
words fell to the ground.
3:20. And all Israel, from Dan to Bersabee, knew that Samuel was a
faithful prophet of the Lord.
3:21. And the Lord again appeared in Silo, for the Lord revealed
himself to Samuel in Silo, according to the word of the Lord.  And the
word of Samuel came to pass to all Israel.
1 Kings Chapter 4
The Israelites being overcome by the Philistines, send for the ark of
God:  but they are beaten again, the sons of Heli are killed, and the
ark taken:  upon the hearing of the news Heli falleth backward and
4:1. And it came to pass in those days, that the Philistines gathered
themselves together to fight:  and Israel went out to war against the
Philistines, and camped by the Stone of help.  And the Philistines came
The Stone of help. . .In Hebrew Eben-ezer; so called from the help which
the Lord was pleased afterwards to give to his people Israel in that
place, by the prayers of Samuel, chap. 7.12.
4:2. And put their army in array against Israel.  And when they had
joined battle, Israel turned their backs to the Philistines:  and there
were slain in that fight, here and there in the fields, about four
thousand men.
4:3. And the people returned to the camp:  and the ancients of Israel
said:  Why hath the Lord defeated us to day before the Philistines?  Let
us fetch unto us the ark of the covenant of the Lord from Silo, and let
it come in the midst of us, that it may save us from the hand of our
4:4. So the people sent to Silo, and they brought from thence the ark
of the covenant of the Lord of hosts, sitting upon the cherubims:  and
the two sons of Heli, Ophni and Phinees, were with the ark of the
covenant of God.
4:5. And when the ark of the covenant of the Lord was come into the
camp, all Israel shouted with a great shout, and the earth rang again.
4:6. And the Philistines heard the noise of the shout, and they said:
What is this noise of a great shout in the camp of the Hebrews?  And
they understood that the ark of the Lord was come into the camp.
4:7. And the Philistines were afraid, saying:  God is come into the
camp.  And sighing, they said:
4:8. Woe to us:  for there was no such great joy yesterday, and the day
before:  Woe to us.  Who shall deliver us from the hand of these high
Gods?  these are the Gods that struck Egypt with all the plagues in the
4:9. Take courage, and behave like men, ye Philistines:  lest you come
to be servants to the Hebrews, as they have served you:  take courage
4:10. So the Philistines fought, and Israel was overthrown, and every
man fled to his own dwelling:  and there was an exceeding great
slaughter; for there fell of Israel thirty thousand footmen.
4:11. And the ark of God was taken:  and the two sons of Heli, Ophni and
Phinees, were slain.
4:12. And there ran a man of Benjamin out of the army, and came to Silo
the same day, with his clothes rent, and his head strewed with dust.
4:13. And when he was come, Heli sat upon a stool over against the way,
watching.  For his heart was fearful for the ark of God.  And when the
man was come into the city, he told it:  and all the city cried out.
4:14. And Heli heard the noise of the cry, and he said:  What meaneth
the noise of this uproar?  But he made haste, and came, and told Heli.
4:15. Now Heli was ninety and eight years old, and his eyes were dim,
and he could not see.
4:16. And he said to Heli:  I am he that came from the battle, and have
fled out of the field this day.  And he said to him:  What is there done,
4:17. And he that brought the news answered, and said:  Israel is fled
before the Philistines, and there has been a great slaughter of the
people:  moreover thy two sons, Ophni and Phinees, are dead:  and the ark
of God is taken.
4:18. And when he had named the ark of God, he fell from his stool
backwards by the door, and broke his neck and died.  For he was an old
man, and far advanced in years:  And he judged Israel forty years.
Named the ark, etc. . .There is great reason, by all these
circumstances, to hope that Heli died in a state of grace; and by his
temporal punishments escaped the eternal.
4:19. And his daughter in law, the wife of Phinees, was big with child,
and near her time:  and hearing the news that the ark of God was taken,
and her father in law, and her husband, were dead, she bowed herself
and fell in labour:  for her pains came upon her on a sudden.
4:20. And when she was upon the point of death, they that stood about
her said to her:  Fear not, for thou hast borne a son.  She answered them
not, nor gave heed to them.
4:21. And she called the child Ichabod, saying:  The glory is gone from
Israel, because the ark of God was taken, and for her father in law,
and for her husband:
Ichabod. . .That is, Where is the glory?  or, there is no glory.  We see
how much the Israelites lamented the loss of the ark, which was but the
symbol of God's presence among them.  How much more ought Christians to
lament the loss of God himself, when by sin they have driven him out of
their souls.
4:22. And she said:  The glory is departed from Israel, because the ark
of God was taken.
1 Kings Chapter 5
Dagon twice falleth down before the ark.  The Philistines are grievously
afflicted, wherever the ark cometh.
5:1. And the Philistines took the ark of God, and carried it from the
Stone of help into Azotus.
5:2. And the Philistines took the ark of God, and brought it into the
temple of Dagon, and set it by Dagon.
5:3. And when the Azotians arose early the next day, behold Dagon lay
upon his face on the ground before the ark of the Lord:  and they took
Dagon, and set him again in his place.
5:4. And the next day again, when they rose in the morning, they found
Dagon lying upon his face on the earth before the ark of the Lord:  and
the head of Dagon, and both the palms of his hands, were cut off upon
the threshold:
5:5. And only the stump of Dagon remained in its place.  For this cause
neither the priests of Dagon, nor any that go into the temple, tread on
the threshold of Dagon in Azotus unto this day.
5:6. And the hand of the Lord was heavy upon the Azotians, and he
destroyed them, and afflicted Azotus and the coasts thereof with
emerods.  And in the villages and fields in the midst of that country,
there came forth a multitude of mice, and there was the confusion of a
great mortality in the city.
5:7. And the men of Azotus seeing this kind of plague, said:  The ark of
the God of Israel shall not stay with us:  for his hand is heavy upon
us, and upon Dagon, our god.
5:8. And sending, they gathered together all the lords of the
Philistines to them, and said:  What shall we do with the ark of the God
of Israel?  And the Gethites answered:  Let the ark of the God of Israel
be carried about.  And they carried the ark of the God of Israel about.
5:9. And while they were carrying it about, the hand of the Lord came
upon every city with an exceeding great slaughter:  and he smote the men
of every city, both small and great, and they had emerods in their
secret parts.  And the Gethites consulted together, and made themselves
seats of skins.
5:10. Therefore they sent the ark of God into Accaron.  And when the ark
of God was come into Accaron, the Accaronites cried out, saying:  They
have brought the ark of the God of Israel to us, to kill us and our
5:11. They sent therefore, and gathered together all the lords of the
Philistines:  and they said:  Send away the ark of the God of Israel, and
let it return into its own place, and not kill us and our people.
5:12. For there was the fear of death in every city, and the hand of
God was exceeding heavy.  The men also that did not die, were afflicted
with the emerods:  and the cry of every city went up to heaven.
1 Kings Chapter 6
The ark is sent back to Bethsames:  where many are slain for looking
through curiosity into it.
6:1. Now the ark of God was in the land of the Philistines seven
6:2. And the Philistines called for the priests and the diviners,
saying:  What shall we do with the ark of the Lord?  tell us how we are
to send it back to its place.  And they said:
6:3. If you send back the ark of the God of Israel, send it not away
empty, but render unto him what you owe for sin, and then you shall be
healed:  and you shall know why his hand departeth not from you.
6:4. They answered:  What is it we ought to render unto him for sin?  and
they answered:
6:5. According to the number of the provinces of the Philistines you
shall make five golden emerods, and five golden mice:  for the same
plague hath been upon you all, and upon your lords.  And you shall make
the likeness of your emerods, and the likeness of the mice, that have
destroyed the land, and you shall give glory to the God of Israel:  to
see if he will take off his hand from you, and from your gods, and from
6:6. Why do you harden your hearts, as Egypt and Pharao hardened their
hearts?  did not he, after he was struck, then let them go, and they
6:7. Now, therefore, take and make a new cart:  and two kine that have
calved, on which there hath come no yoke, tie to the cart, and shut up
their calves at home.
6:8. And you shall take the ark of the Lord, and lay it on the cart,
and the vessels of gold, which you have paid him for sin, you shall put
into a little box at the side thereof:  and send it away, that it may
6:9. And you shall look:  and if it go up by the way of his own coasts,
towards Bethsames, then he hath done us this great evil:  but if not, we
shall know that it is not his hand hath touched us, but it hath
happened by chance.
6:10. They did therefore in this manner:  and taking two kine, that had
sucking calves, they yoked them to the cart, and shut up their calves
6:11. And they laid the ark of God upon the cart, and the little box
that had in it the golden mice, and the likeness of the emerods.
6:12. And the kine took the straight way, that leadeth to Bethsames,
and they went along the way, lowing as they went:  and turned not aside
neither to the right hand nor to the left:  and the lords of the
Philistines followed them as far as the borders of Bethsames.
6:13. Now the Bethsamites were reaping wheat in the valley:  and lifting
up their eyes, they saw the ark, and rejoiced to see it.
6:14. And the cart came into the field of Josue, a Bethsamite, and
stood there.  And there was a great stone, and they cut in pieces the
wood of the cart, and laid the kine upon it a holocaust to the Lord.
6:15. And the Levites took down the ark of God, and the little box that
was at the side of it, wherein were the vessels of gold, and they put
them upon the great stone.  The men also of Bethsames offered
holocausts, and sacrificed victims that day to the Lord.
6:16. And the five princes of the Philistines saw, and they returned to
Accaron the same day.
6:17. And these are the golden emerods, which the Philistines returned
for sin to the Lord:  For Azotus one, for Gaza one, for Ascalon one, for
Geth one, for Accaron one:
6:18. And the golden mice, according to the number of the cities of the
Philistines, of the five provinces, from the fenced city to the village
that was without wall, and to the great Abel (the stone) whereon they
set down the ark of the Lord, which was till that day in the field of
Josue the Bethsamite.
6:19. But he slew of the men of Bethsames, because they had seen the
ark of the Lord, and he slew of the people seventy men, and fifty
thousand of the common people.  And the people lamented, because the
Lord had smitten the people with a great slaughter.
Seen. . .And curiously looked into.  It is likely this plague reached to
all the neighbouring country, as well as the city of Bethsames.
6:20. And the men of Bethsames said:  Who shall be able to stand before
the Lord this holy God?  and to whom shall he go up from us?
6:21. And they sent messengers to the inhabitants of Cariathiarim,
saying:  The Philistines have brought back the ark of the Lord, come ye
down and fetch it up to you.
1 Kings Chapter 7
The ark is brought to Cariathiarim.  By Samuel's exhortation the people
cast away their idols and serve God alone.  The Lord defeateth the
Philistines, while Samuel offereth sacrifice.
7:1. And the men of Cariathiarim came, and fetched up the ark of the
Lord, and carried it into the house of Abinadab, in Gabaa:  and they
sanctified Eleazar, his son, to keep the ark of the Lord.
In Gabaa. . .That is, on the hill, for Gabaa signifieth a hill.
7:2. And it came to pass, that from the day the ark of the Lord abode
in Cariathiarim, days were multiplied (for it was now the twentieth
year) and all the house of Israel rested, following the Lord.
7:3. And Samuel spoke to all the house of Israel, saying:  If you turn
to the Lord with all your heart, put away the strange gods from among
you, Baalim and Astaroth:  and prepare your hearts unto the Lord, and
serve him only, and he will deliver you out of the hand of the
Philistines.
7:4. Then the children of Israel put away Baalim and Astaroth, and
served the Lord only.
7:5. And Samuel said:  Gather all Israel to Masphath, that I may pray to
the Lord for you.
7:6. And they gathered together to Masphath, and they drew water, and
poured it out before the Lord, and they fasted on that day, and they
said there:  We have sinned against the Lord.  And Samuel judged the
children of Israel in Masphath.
7:7. And the Philistines heard that the children of Israel were
gathered together to Masphath, and the lords of the Philistines went up
against Israel.  And when the children of Israel heard this, they were
afraid of the Philistines.
7:8. And they said to Samuel:  Cease not to cry to the Lord our God for
us, that he may save us out of the hand of the Philistines.
7:9. And Samuel took a sucking lamb, and offered it whole for a
holocaust to the Lord:  and Samuel cried to the Lord for Israel, and the
Lord heard him.
7:10. And it came to pass, when Samuel was offering the holocaust, the
Philistines began the battle against Israel:  but the Lord thundered
with a great thunder on that day upon the Philistines, and terrified
them, and they were overthrown before the face of Israel.
7:11. And the men of Israel going out of Masphath, pursued after the
Philistines, and made slaughter of them till they came under Bethchar.
7:12. And Samuel took a stone, and laid it between Masphath and Sen:
and he called the place The stone of help.  And he said:  Thus far the
Lord hath helped us.
7:13. And the Philistines were humbled, and they did not come any more
into the borders of Israel.  And the hand of the Lord was against the
Philistines, all the days of Samuel.
7:14. And the cities which the Philistines had taken from Israel, were
restored to Israel, from Accaron to Geth, and their borders:  and he
delivered Israel from the hand of the Philistines, and there was peace
between Israel and the Amorrhites.
7:15. And Samuel judged Israel all the days of his life:
7:16. And he went every year about to Bethel and to Galgal and to
Masphath, and he judged Israel in the foresaid places.
7:17. And he returned to Ramatha:  for there was his house, and there he
judged Israel:  he built also there an altar to the Lord.
1 Kings Chapter 8
Samuel growing old, and his sons not walking in his ways, the people
desire a king.
8:1. And it came to pass, when Samuel was old, that he appointed his
sons to be judges over Israel.
8:2. Now the name of his firstborn son was Joel:  and the name of the
second was Abia, judges in Bersabee.
8:3. And his sons walked not in his ways:  but they turned aside after
lucre, and took bribes, and perverted judgment.
8:4. Then all the ancients of Israel being assembled came to Samuel to
8:5. And they said to him:  Behold thou art old, and thy sons walk not
in thy ways:  make us a king, to judge us, as all nations have.
8:6. And the word was displeasing in the eyes of Samuel, that they
should say:  Give us a king to judge us.  And Samuel prayed to the Lord.
8:7. And the Lord said to Samuel:  Hearken to the voice of the people in
all that they say to thee.  For they have not rejected thee, but me,
that I should not reign over them.
Rejected, etc. . .The government of Israel hitherto had been a
theocracy, in which God himself immediately ruled, by laws which he had
enacted, and by judges extraordinarily raised up by himself; and
therefore he complains that his people rejected him, in desiring a
change of government.
8:8. According to all their works, they have done from the day that I
brought them out of Egypt until this day:  as they have forsaken me, and
served strange gods, so do they also unto thee.
8:9. Now, therefore, hearken to their voice:  but yet testify to them,
and foretell them the right of the king, that shall reign over them.
The right. . .That is, the manner (misphat) after which he shall
proceed, having no one to control him, when he has the power in his
8:10. Then Samuel told all the words of the Lord to the people that had
desired a king of him,
8:11. And said:  This will be the right of the king that shall reign
over you:  He will take your sons, and put them in his chariots, and
will make them his horsemen, and his running footmen, to run before his
8:12. And he will appoint of them to be his tribunes, and his
centurions, and to plough his fields, and to reap his corn, and to make
him arms and chariots.
8:13. Your daughters also he will take to make him ointments, and to be
his cooks, and bakers.
8:14. And he will take your fields, and your vineyards, and your best
oliveyards, and give them to his servants.
8:15. Moreover he will take the tenth of your corn, and of the revenues
of your vineyards, to give to his eunuchs and servants.
8:16. Your servants also, and handmaids, and your goodliest young men,
and your asses, he will take away, and put them to his work.
8:17. Your flocks also he will tithe, and you shall be his servants.
8:18. And you shall cry out in that day from the face of the king, whom
you have chosen to yourselves:  and the Lord will not hear you in that
day, because you desired unto yourselves a king.
8:19. But the people would not hear the voice of Samuel, and they said,
Nay:  but there shall be a king over us,
8:20. And we also will be like all nations:  and our king shall judge
us, and go out before us, and fight our battles for us.
8:21. And Samuel heard all the words of the people, and rehearsed them
in the ears of the Lord.
8:22. And the Lord said to Samuel:  Hearken to their voice, and make
them a king.  And Samuel said to the men of Israel:  Let every man go to
1 Kings Chapter 9
Saul seeking his father's asses, cometh to Samuel, by whom he is
entertained.
9:1. Now there was a man of Benjamin, whose name was Cis, the son of
Abiel, the son of Seror, the son of Bechorath, the son of Aphia, the
son of a man of Jemini, valiant and strong.
9:2. And he had a son whose name was Saul, a choice and goodly man, and
there was not among the children of Israel a goodlier person than he:
from his shoulders and upward he appeared above all the people.
9:3. And the asses of Cis, Saul's father, were lost:  and Cis said to
his son Saul:  Take one of the servants with thee, and arise, go, and
seek the asses.  And when they had passed through Mount Ephraim,
9:4. And through the land of Salisa, and had not found them, they
passed also through the land of Salim, and they were not there:  and
through the land of Jemini, and found them not.
9:5. And when they were come to the land of Suph, Saul said to the
servant that was with him:  Come, let us return, lest perhaps my father
forget the asses, and be concerned for us.
9:6. And he said to him:  Behold there is a man of God in this city, a
famous man:  all that he saith, cometh certainly to pass.  Now,
therefore, let us go thither, perhaps he may tell us of our way, for
which we are come.
9:7. And Saul said to his servant:  Behold we will go:  but what shall we
carry to the man of God?  the bread is spent in our bags:  and we have no
present to make to the man of God, nor any thing at all.
9:8. The servant answered Saul again, and said:  Behold there is found
in my hand the fourth part of a sicle of silver, let us give it to the
man of God, that he may tell us our way.
9:9. Now in time past in Israel, when a man went to consult God, he
spoke thus:  Come, let us go to the seer.  For he that is now called a
prophet, in time past was called a seer.
Seer. . .Because of his seeing by divine light hidden things and things
9:10. And Saul said to his servant:  Thy word is very good, come let us
go.  And they went into the city, where the man of God was.
9:11. And when they went up the ascent to the city, they found maids
coming out to draw water, and they said to them:  Is the seer here?
9:12. They answered and said to them:  He is:  behold he is before you,
make haste now:  for he came to day into the city, for there is a
sacrifice of the people to day in the high place.
A sacrifice. . .The law did not allow of sacrifices in any other place,
but at the tabernacle, or temple, in which the ark of the covenant was
kept; but Samuel, by divine dispensation, offered sacrifices in other
places.  For which dispensation this reason may be alleged, that the
house of God in Silo, having lost the ark, was now cast off; as a
figure of the reprobation of the Jews, Ps. 77.60, 67.  And in
Cariathiarim where the ark was, there was neither tabernacle, nor
altar.--Ibid.  The high place. . .Excelsum.  The excelsa, or high places,
so often mentioned in scripture, were places of worship, in which were
altars for sacrifice.  These were sometimes employed in the service of
the true God, as in the present case:  but more frequently in the
service of idols; and were called excelsa, which is commonly (though
perhaps not so accurately) rendered high places; not because they were
always upon hills, for the very worst of all, which was that of
Topheth, or Geennom, (Jer. 19.) was in a valley; but because of the
high altars, and pillars, or monuments, erected there, on which were
set up the idols, or images of their deities.
9:13. As soon as you come into the city, you shall immediately find
him, before he go up to the high place to eat:  for the people will not
eat till he come; because he blesseth the victim, and afterwards they
eat that are invited.  Now, therefore, go up, for to day you shall find
9:14. And they went up into the city.  And when they were walking in the
midst of the city, behold Samuel was coming out over against them, to
go up to the high place.
9:15. Now the Lord had revealed to the ear of Samuel the day before
Saul came, saying:
9:16. To morrow about this same hour I will send thee a man of the land
of Benjamin, and thou shalt anoint him to be ruler over my people
Israel:  and he shall save my people out of the hand of the Philistines:
for I have looked down upon my people, because their cry is come to me.
9:17. And when Samuel saw Saul, the Lord said to him:  Behold the man,
of whom I spoke to thee, this man shall reign over my people.
9:18. And Saul came to Samuel in the midst of the gate, and said:  Tell
me, I pray thee, where is the house of the seer?
9:19. And Samuel answered Saul, saying:  I am the seer; go up before me
to the high place, that you may eat with me to day, and I will let thee
go in the morning:  and tell thee all that is in thy heart.
9:20. And as for the asses, which were lost three days ago, be not
solicitous, because they are found.  And for whom shall be all the best
things of Israel?  Shall they not be for thee and for all thy father's
9:21. And Saul answering, said:  Am not I a son of Jemini of the least
tribe of Israel, and my kindred the last among all the families of the
tribe of Benjamin?  Why then hast thou spoken this word to me?
9:22. Then Samuel taking Saul, and his servant, brought them into the
parlour, and gave them a place at the head of them that were invited.
For there were about thirty men.
9:23. And Samuel said to the cook:  Bring the portion which I gave thee,
and commanded thee to set it apart by thee.
9:24. And the cook took up the shoulder, and set it before Saul.  And
Samuel said:  Behold what is left, set it before thee, and eat; because
it was kept of purpose for thee, when I invited the people.  And Saul
ate with Samuel that day.
9:25. And they went down from the high place into the town, and he
spoke with Saul upon the top of the house:  and he prepared a bed for
Saul on the top of the house and he slept.
9:26. And when they were risen in the morning, and it began now to be
light, Samuel called Saul on the top of the house, saying:  Arise, that
I may let thee go.  And Saul arose:  and they went out both of them:  to
wit, he and Samuel.
9:27. And as they were going down in the end of the city, Samuel said
to Saul:  Speak to the servant to go before us, and pass on:  but stand
thou still a while, that I may tell thee the word of the Lord.
1 Kings Chapter 10
Saul is anointed.  He prophesieth, and is changed into another man.
Samuel calleth the people together, to make a king:  the lot falleth on
10:1. And Samuel took a little vial of oil, and poured it upon his
head, and kissed him, and said:  Behold, the Lord hath anointed thee to
be prince over his inheritance, and thou shalt deliver his people out
of the hands of their enemies, that are round about them.  And this
shall be a sign unto thee, that God hath anointed thee to be prince.
10:2. When thou shalt depart from me this day, thou shalt find two men
by the sepulchre of Rachel in the borders of Benjamin to the south, and
they shall say to thee:  The asses are found which thou wentest to seek:
and thy father, thinking no more of the asses, is concerned for you,
and saith:  What shall I do for my son?
10:3. And when thou shalt depart from thence, and go farther on, and
shalt come to the oak of Thabor, there shall meet thee three men going
up to God to Bethel, one carrying three kids, and another three loaves
of bread, and another carrying a bottle of wine.
Bethel. . .Where there was at that time an altar of God; it being one of
the places where Samuel judged Israel.
10:4. And they will salute thee, and will give thee two loaves, and
thou shalt take them at their hand.
10:5. After that thou shalt come to the hill of God, where the garrison
of the Philistines is:  and when thou shalt be come there into the city,
thou shalt meet a company of prophets coming down from the high place,
with a psaltery, and a timbrel, and a pipe, and a harp before them, and
they shall be prophesying.
The hill of God. . .Gabaa, in which there was also at that time, a high
place or altar.--Prophets. . .These were men whose office it was to sing
hymns and praises to God; for such in holy writ are called prophets,
and their singing praises to God is called prophesying.  See 1 Par.
alias 1 Chr. 15.22, and 25.1.  Now there were in those days colleges, or
schools for training up these prophets; and it seems there was one of
these schools at this hill of God; and another at Najoth in Ramatha.
See 1 Kings 19.20, 21, etc.
10:6. And the Spirit of the Lord shall come upon thee, and thou shalt
prophesy with them, and shalt be changed into another man.
10:7. When therefore these signs shall happen to thee, do whatsoever
thy hand shall find, for the Lord is with thee.
10:8. And thou shalt go down before me to Galgal, (for I will come down
to thee), that thou mayst offer an oblation, and sacrifice victims of
peace:  seven days shalt thou wait, till I come to thee, and I will shew
thee what thou art to do.
Galgal. . .Here also by dispensation was an altar of God.
10:9. So when he had turned his back to go from Samuel, God gave unto
him another heart, and all these things came to pass that day.
10:10. And they came to the foresaid hill, and behold a company of
prophets met him:  and the Spirit of the Lord came upon him, and he
prophesied in the midst of them.
10:11. And all that had known him yesterday and the day before, seeing
that he was with the prophets, and prophesied, said to each other:  What
is this that hath happened to the son of Cis?  is Saul also among the
10:12. And one answered another, saying:  And who is their father?
therefore it became a proverb:  Is Saul also among the prophets?
Their father. . .That is, their teacher, or superior.  As much as to say,
Who could bring about such a wonderful change as to make Saul a
10:13. And when he had made an end of prophesying, he came to the high
10:14. And Saul's uncle said to him, and to his servant:  Whither went
you?  They answered:  To seek the asses:  and not finding them, we went
10:15. And his uncle said to him:  Tell me what Samuel said to thee.
10:16. And Saul said to his uncle:  He told us that the asses were
found.  But of the matter of the kingdom of which Samuel had spoken to
him, he told him not.
10:17. And Samuel called together the people to the Lord in Maspha:
10:18. And he said to the children of Israel:  Thus saith the Lord the
God of Israel:  I brought up Israel out of Egypt, and delivered you from
the hand of the Egyptians, and from the hand of all the kings who
afflicted you.
10:19. But you this day have rejected your God, who only hath saved you
out of all your evils and your tribulations:  and you have said:  Nay:
but set a king over us.  Now therefore stand before the Lord by your
tribes, and by your families.
10:20. And Samuel brought to him all the tribes of Israel, and the lot
fell on the tribe of Benjamin.
10:21. And he brought the tribe of Benjamin and the kindreds thereof,
and the lot fell upon the kindred of Metri, and it came to Saul, the
son of Cis.  They sought him therefore, and he was not found.
10:22. And after this they consulted the Lord whether he would come
thither.  And the Lord answered:  Behold he is hidden at home.
10:23. And they ran and fetched him thence:  and he stood in the midst
of the people, and he was higher than any of the people from the
shoulders and upward.
10:24. And Samuel said to all the people:  Surely you see him whom the
Lord hath chosen, that there is none like him among all the people.  And
all the people cried and said:  God save the king.
10:25. And Samuel told the people the law of the kingdom, and wrote it
in a book, and laid it up before the Lord:  and Samuel sent away all the
people, every one to his own house.
10:26. Saul also departed to his own house in Gabaa:  and there went
with him a part of the army, whose hearts God had touched.
10:27. But the children of Belial said:  Shall this fellow be able to
save us?  And they despised him, and brought him no presents; but he
dissembled as though he heard not.
1 Kings Chapter 11
Saul defeateth the Ammonites, and delivereth Jabes Galaad.
11:1. And it came to pass about a month after this, that Naas, the
Ammonite, came up, and began to fight against Jabes Galaad.  And all the
men of Jabes said to Naas:  Make a covenant with us, and we will serve
11:2. And Naas, the Ammonite, answered them:  On this condition will I
make a covenant with you, that I may pluck out all your right eyes, and
make you a reproach in all Israel.
11:3. And the ancients of Jabes said to him:  Allow us seven days, that
we may send messengers to all the coasts of Israel:  and if there be no
one to defend us, we will come out to thee.
11:4. The messengers therefore came to Gabaa of Saul:  and they spoke
these words in the hearing of the people:  and all the people lifted up
their voices, and wept.
11:5. And behold Saul came, following oxen out of the field, and he
said:  What aileth the people that they weep?  And they told him the
words of the men of Jabes.
11:6. And the Spirit of the Lord came upon Saul, when he had heard
these words, and his anger was exceedingly kindled.
11:7. And taking both the oxen, he cut them in pieces, and sent them
into all the coasts of Israel, by messengers, saying:  Whosoever shall
not come forth, and follow Saul and Samuel, so shall it be done to his
oxen.  And the fear of the Lord fell upon the people, and they went out
11:8. And he numbered them in Bezec:  and there were of the children of
Israel three hundred thousand:  and of the men of Juda thirty thousand.
11:9. And they said to the messengers that came:  Thus shall you say to
the men of Jabes Galaad:  To morrow, when the sun shall be hot, you
shall have relief.  The messengers therefore came, and told the men of
Jabes, and they were glad.
11:10. And they said:  In the morning we will come out to you:  and you
shall do what you please with us.
11:11. And it came to pass, when the morrow was come, that Saul put the
people in three companies:  and he came into the midst of the camp in
the morning watch, and he slew the Ammonites until the day grew hot,
and the rest were scattered, so that two of them were not left
11:12. And the people said to Samuel:  Who is he that said:  Shall Saul
reign over us?  Bring the men, and we will kill them.
11:13. And Saul said:  No man shall be killed this day:  because the Lord
this day hath wrought salvation in Israel:
11:14. And Samuel said to the people:  Come, and let us go to Galgal,
and let us renew the kingdom there.
11:15. And all the people went to Galgal, and there they made Saul
king, before the Lord in Galgal, and they sacrificed there victims of
peace before the Lord.  And there Saul and all the men of Israel
rejoiced exceedingly.
1 Kings Chapter 12
Samuel's integrity is acknowledged.  God sheweth by a sign from heaven
that they had done ill in asking for a king.
12:1. And Samuel said to all Israel:  Behold I have hearkened to your
voice in all that you said to me, and have made a king over you.
12:2. And now the king goeth before you:  but I am old and greyheaded:
and my sons are with you:  having then conversed with you from my youth
until this day, behold here I am.
12:3. Speak of me before the Lord, and before his anointed, whether I
have taken any man's ox, or ass:  if I have wronged any man, if I have
oppressed any man, if I have taken a bribe at any man's hand:  and I
will despise it this day, and will restore it to you.
12:4. And they said:  Thou hast not wronged us, nor oppressed us, nor
taken ought at any man's hand.
12:5. And he said to them:  The Lord is witness against you, and his
anointed is witness this day, that you have not found any thing in my
hand.  And they said:  He is witness.
12:6. And Samuel said to the people:  It is the Lord who made Moses and
Aaron, and brought our fathers out of the land of Egypt.
12:7. Now, therefore, stand up, that I may plead in judgment against
you before the Lord, concerning all the kindness of the Lord, which he
hath shewn to you, and to your fathers:
12:8. How Jacob went into Egypt, and your fathers cried to the Lord:
and the Lord sent Moses and Aaron, and brought your fathers out of
Egypt, and made them dwell in this place.
12:9. And they forgot the Lord their God, and he delivered them into
the hands of Sisara, captain of the army of Hasor, and into the hands
of the Philistines, and into the hand of the king of Moab, and they
fought against them.
12:10. But afterwards they cried to the Lord, and said:  We have sinned,
because we have forsaken the Lord, and have served Baalim and Astaroth:
but now deliver us from the hand of our enemies, and we will serve
12:11. And the Lord sent Jerobaal, and Badan, and Jephte, and Samuel,
and delivered you from the hand of your enemies round about, and you
dwelt securely.
Jerobaal and Badan. . .That is, Gedeon and Samson called here Badan or
Bedan, because he was of Dan.
12:12. But seeing that Naas, king of the children of Ammon, was come
against you, you said to me:  Nay, but a king shall reign over us:
whereas the Lord your God was your king.
12:13. Now, therefore, your king is here, whom you have chosen and
desired:  Behold the Lord hath given you a king.
12:14. If you will fear the Lord, and serve him, and hearken to his
voice, and not provoke the mouth of the Lord:  then shall both you, and
the king who reigneth over you, be followers of the Lord your God.
12:15. But if you will not hearken to the voice of the Lord, but will
rebel against his words, the hand of the Lord shall be upon you, and
upon your fathers.
12:16. Now then stand, and see this great thing which the Lord will do
in your sight.
12:17. Is it not wheat harvest to day?  I will call upon the Lord, and
he shall send thunder and rain:  and you shall know, and see that you
yourselves have done a great evil in the sight of the Lord, in desiring
a king over you.
Wheat harvest. . .At which time of the year, it never thunders or rains
in those countries.
12:18. And Samuel cried unto the Lord, and the Lord sent thunder and
rain that day.
12:19. And all the people greatly feared the Lord and Samuel.  And all
the people said to Samuel:  Pray for thy servants to the Lord thy God,
that we may not die, for we have added to all our sins this evil, to
ask for a king.
12:20. And Samuel said to the people:  Fear not, you have done all this
evil:  but yet depart not from following the Lord, but serve the Lord
with all your heart.
12:21. And turn not aside after vain things, which shall never profit
you, nor deliver you, because they are vain.
12:22. And the Lord will not forsake his people for his great name's
sake:  because the Lord hath sworn to make you his people.
12:23. And far from me be this sin against the Lord, that I should
cease to pray for you:  and I will teach you the good and right way.
12:24. Therefore fear the Lord, and serve him in truth, and with your
whole heart, for you have seen the great works which he hath done among
12:25. But if you will still do wickedly:  both you and your king shall
perish together.
1 Kings Chapter 13
The war between Saul and the Philistines.  The distress of the
Israelites.  Saul offereth sacrifice before the coming of Samuel:  for
which he is reproved.
13:1. Saul was a child of one year when he began to reign, and he
reigned two years over Israel.
Of one year. . .That is, he was good and like an innocent child, and for
two years continued in that innocency.
13:2. And Saul chose him three thousand men of Israel:  and two thousand
were with Saul in Machmas, and in mount Bethel:  and a thousand with
Jonathan in Gabaa of Benjamin:  and the rest of the people he sent back
every man to their dwellings.
13:3. And Jonathan smote the garrison of the Philistines which was in
Gabaa.  And when the Philistines had heard of it, Saul sounded the
trumpet over all the land, saying:  Let the Hebrews hear.
13:4. And all Israel heard this report:  Saul hath smitten the garrison
of the Philistines:  and Israel took courage against the Philistines.
And the people were called together after Saul to Galgal.
13:5. The Philistines also were assembled to fight against Israel,
thirty thousand chariots, and six thousand horsemen, and a multitude of
people besides, like the sand on the seashore for number.  And going up
they camped in Machmas, at the east of Bethaven.
13:6. And when the men of Israel saw that they were straitened (for the
people were distressed), they hid themselves in caves, and in thickets,
and in rocks, and in dens, and in pits.
13:7. And some of t