The Dark Wood of Error

Canto I

The Dark Wood of Error

Halfway through his life, the poet Dante finds himself wandering alone in a dark forest, having lost his way on the “true path” (I.10). He says that he does not remember how he lost his way, but he has wandered into a fearful place, a dark and tangled valley. Above, he sees a great hill that seems to offer protection from the shadowed glen. The sun shines down from this hilltop, and Dante attempts to climb toward the light. As he climbs, however, he encounters three angry beasts in succession—the Leopard of Malice and Fraud, the Lion of Violence and Ambition, and the She-Wolf of Incontinence—which force him to turn back. Returning in despair to the dark valley, Dante sees a human form in the woods, which soon reveals itself to be the spirit, or shade, of the great Roman poet Virgil. Thrilled to meet the poet that he most admires, Dante tells Virgil about the beasts that blocked his path. Virgil replies that the she-wolf kills all who approach her but that, someday, a magnificent hound will come to chase the she-wolf back to Hell, where she originated. He adds that the she-wolf’s presence necessitates the use of a different path to ascend the hill; he offers to serve as Dante’s guide. He warns Dante, however, that before they can climb the hill they must first pass through Hell [the Recognition of Sin] and then Purgatory [the Renunciation of Sin]; only then can they reach Heaven - God's City. Encouraged by Virgil’s assurances, Dante sets forth with Virgil as his guide - but only as far as Human Reason can go. Another guide [Beatrice, symbol of divine love] must take over for the final ascent, for Human Reason is self-limited. Dante submits himself joyously to Virgil's guidance and they move off.

Canto I

Midway in our life's journey, I went astray from the straight road and woke to find myself alone in a dark wood.

How shall I say what wood that was!
I never saw so drear, so rank, so arduous a wilderness! Its very memory gives a shape to fear.

Death could scarce be more bitter than that place! But since it came to good, I will recount all that I found revealed there by God's grace.

How I came to it I cannot rightly say, so drugged and loose with sleep had I become when I first wandered there from the True Way.

But at the far end of that valley of evil whose maze had sapped my very heart with fear I found myself before a little hill

and lifted up my eyes. Its shoulders glowed already with the sweet rays of that planet whose virtue leads men straight on every road,

and the shining strengthened me against the fright whose agony had wracked the lake of my heart through all the terrors of that piteous night.

Just as a swimmer, who with his last breath flounders ashore from perilous seas, might turn to memorize the wide water of his death -

So did I turn, my soul still fugitive from death's surviving image, to stare down that pass that none had ever left alive.

And there I lay to rest from my heart's race till calm and breath returned to me. Then rose and pushed up that dead slope at such a pace

each footfall rose above the last. And lo! almost at the beginning of the rise I faced a spotted Leopard, all tremor and flow

and gaudy pelt. And it would not let me pass, but stood so blocking my every turn that time and again I was on the verge of turning back to the wood.

This fell at the first widening of the dawn as the sun was climbing Aries with those stars that rode with him to light the new creation.

Thus the holy hour and the sweet season of commemoration did much to arm my fear of that bright murderous beast with their good omen.

Yet not so much bur what I shook with dread at sight of a great Lion that broke upon me raging with hunger, its enormous head

held high as if to strike a mortal terror into the very air. And down his track, a She-Wolf drove upon me, a starved horror

ravening and wasted beyond all belief. She seemed a rack for avarice, gaunt and craving. Oh many the souls she has brought to endless grief!

She brought such heaviness upon my spirit at sight of her savagery and desperation, I died from every hope of that high summit.

And like a miser - eager in acquisition but desperate in self-reproach when Fortune's wheel turns to the hour of his loss - all tears and attrition

I wavered back; and still the beast pursued, forcing herself against me bit by bit till I had slid back into the sunless wood.

And as I fell to my soul's ruin, a presence gathered before me on the discolored air, the figure of one who seemed hoarse from long silence.

At sight of him in that friendless waste I cried, "Have pity on me, whatever thing you are, whether shade or living man." And it replied,

"Not man, though man I once was, and my blood was Lombard, both my parents Mantuan. I was born, though late, in the reign of Julius Caesar, and bred

in Rome under Augustus in the moon of the false and lying gods. I was a poet and sang of old Anchises' noble son

who came to Rome after the burning of Troy. But you - why do you return to these distresses instead of climbing that shining Mount of Joy

which is the seat and first cause of man's eternal bliss?"
"And are you then that Virgil and that fountain of purest speech?" My voice grew tremulous;

"Glory and light of poets! now may that zeal and love's apprenticeship that I poured out on your heroic verses serve me well!"

For you are my true master and first author, the sole maker from whom I drew the breath of that sweet style whose measures have brought me honor.

See there, immortal sage, the beast I flee. For my soul's salvation, I beg you, guard me from her, for she has struck a mortal tremor through me."

And he replied, seeing my soul in tears:
"He must go by another way who would escape this wilderness, for that mad beast that fleers

before you there, suffers no man to pass. She tracks down all, kills all, and knows no glut, but, feeding, she grows hungrier than she was.

She mates with any beast, and will mate with more before the Greyhound comes to hunt her down. He will not feed on lands nor loot, but honor

and love and wisdom will make straight his way. He will rise between Feltro and Feltro, and in him shall be the resurrection of the new day

of that sad Italy for which Nisus died, and Turnus, and Euralys, and the maid Camilla. He shall hunt her through every nation of sick pride

till she is driven back forever to Hell whence Envy first released her on the whole world. Therefore, for your own good, I think it well

you follow me and I will be your guide and lead you forth through an eternal place. There you shall see the ancient spirits tried

in endless pain, and hear their lamentation as each bemoans the second death of souls. Next you shall see upon a burning mountain

souls in fire and yet content in fire, knowing that whensoever it may be they yet will mount into the blessed choir.

To which, if it is still your wish to climb, a worthier spirit shall be sent to guide you. With her I shall leave you, for the King of Time

who reigns on high, forbids me to come there since, living, I rebelled against his law. He rules the waters and the land and air

and there holds court, his city and his throne. Oh blessed are they he chooses!" And I to him: "Poet, but that God to you unknown,

lead me this way. Beyond this present ill and worse to dread, lead me to Peter's Gate and be my guide through the sad halls of Hell."

And he then: "Follow." And he moved ahead in silence, and I followed where he led.

Canto II

Dante and Beatrice

Dante invokes the Muses, the ancient goddesses of art and poetry, and asks them to help him tell of his experiences. Dante relates that as he and Virgil approach the mouth of Hell, his mind turns to the journey ahead and again he feels the grip of dread. He can recall only two men who have ever ventured into the afterlife and returned: the Apostle Paul, who visited the Third Circle of Heaven, and Aeneas, who travels through Hell in Virgil’s Aeneid. Dante considers himself less worthy than these two and fears that he may not survive his passage through Hell. Virgil rebukes Dante for his cowardice and then reassures him with the story of how he knew to find Dante and act as his guide. According to Virgil, a woman in Heaven took pity upon Dante when he was lost and came down to Hell (where Virgil lives) to ask Virgil to help him. This woman was Beatrice, Dante’s departed love, who now has an honored place among the blessed. She had learned of Dante’s plight from St. Lucia, also in Heaven, who in turn heard about the poor poet from an unnamed lady, most likely the Virgin Mary. Thus, a trio of holy women watches over Dante from above. Virgil says that Beatrice wept as she told him of Dante’s misery and that he found her entreaty deeply moving. Dante feels comforted to hear that his beloved Beatrice has gone to Heaven and cares so much for him. He praises both her and Virgil for their aid and then continues to follow Virgil toward Hell.

Canto II

The day was now departing; the dark air

released the living beings of the earth

from work and weariness; and I myself

alone prepared to undergo the battle

both of the journeying and of the pity,

which memory, mistaking not, shall show.

O Muses, o high genius, help me now;

o memory that set down what I saw,

here shall your excellence reveal itself!

I started: "Poet, you who are my guide,

see if the force in me is strong enough

before you let me face that rugged pass.

You say that he who fathered Sylvius,

while he was still corruptible, had journeyed

into the deathless world with his live body.

For, if the Enemy of every evil

was courteous to him, considering

all he would cause and who and what he was,

that does not seem incomprehensible,

since in the empyrean heaven he was chosen

to father honored Rome and her empire;

and if the truth be told, Rome and her realm

were destined to become the sacred place,

the seat of the successor of great Peter.

And through the journey you ascribe to him,

he came to learn of things that were to bring

his victory and, too, the papal mantle.

Later the Chosen Vessel travelled there,

to bring us back assurance of that faith

with which the way to our salvation starts.

But why should I go there? Who sanctions it?

For I am not Aeneas, am not Paul;

nor I nor others think myself so worthy.

Therefore, if I consent to start this journey,

I fear my venture may be wild and empty.

You're wise; you know far more than what I say."

And just as he who unwills what he wills

and shifts what he intends to seek new ends

so that he's drawn from what he had begun,

so was I in the midst of that dark land,

because, with all my thinking, I annulled

the task I had so quickly undertaken.

"If I have understood what you have said,"

replied the shade of that great-hearted one,

"your soul has been assailed by cowardice,

which often weighs so heavily on a man-

distracting him from honorable trials-

as phantoms frighten beasts when shadows fall.

That you may be delivered from this fear,

I'll tell you why I came and what I heard

when I first felt compassion for your pain.

I was among those souls who are suspended;

a lady called to me, so blessed, so lovely

that I implored to serve at her command.

Her eyes surpassed the splendor of the star's;

and she began to speak to me-so gently

and softly-with angelic voice. She said:

'O spirit of the courteous Mantuan,

whose fame is still a presence in the world

and shall endure as long as the world lasts,

my friend, who has not been the friend of fortune, is hindered in his path along that lonely

hillside; he has been turned aside by terror.

From all that I have heard of him in Heaven,

he is, I fear, already so astray

that I have come to help him much too late.

Go now; with your persuasive word, with all

that is required to see that he escapes,

bring help to him, that I may be consoled.

For I am Beatrice who send you on;

I come from where I most long to return;

Love prompted me, that Love which makes me speak.

When once again I stand before my Lord,

then I shall often let Him hear your praises.'

Now Beatrice was silent. I began:

'O Lady of virtue, the sole reason why

the human race surpasses all that lies

beneath the heaven with the smallest spheres,

so welcome is your wish, that even if

it were already done, it would seem tardy;

all you need do is let me know your will.

But tell me why you have not been more prudent-

descending to this center, moving from

that spacious place where you long to return?'

'Because you want to fathom things so deeply,

I now shall tell you promptly,' she replied,

'why I am not afraid to enter here.

One ought to be afraid of nothing other

than things possessed of power to do us harm,

but things innocuous need not be feared.

God, in His graciousness, has made me so

that this, your misery, cannot touch me;

I can withstand the fires flaming here.

In Heaven there's a gentle lady-one

who weeps for the distress toward which I send you,

so that stern judgment up above is shattered.

And it was she who called upon Lucia,

requesting of her: "Now your faithful one

has need of you, and I commend him to you."