,,il  ,,convito                  ,,the  
,,banquet                      ,,of     
,,dante ,,alighieri                     
,translated ,by             ,elizabeth  
,price ,sayer       ,with ,an           
,introduction ,by ,henry ,morely        
,,ll4,d41 ,professor ,of ,english       
,literature ,at         ,university     
,college1 ,london                       
#ahhg          ,,introduction4          
,this translation of ,dante's           
,convito--the first in ,english--is from
 the  hand of a lady whose enthusiasm   
for the genius of ,dante has made it a  
chief pleasure of her life to dwell on  
it by translating1 not his  ,divine     
,comedy only1 but also the whole body of
 his other works4 ,among  those works   
the ,vita ,nuova and the ,convito have a
 distinct place1 as  leading up to the  
great masterpiece4 ,in the ,new ,life1  
,man starts on  his career with human   
love that points to the divine4 ,in the 
,banquet1  he passes to mature life and 
to love of knowledge that declares the  

power and the love of ,god in the       
material and moral world about us and   
within us4 ,in the ,divine ,comedy1 the 
,poet passes to the world to come1  and 
rises to the final union of the love for
 ,beatrice1 the beatifier1  with the    
glory of the ,love of ,god4 ,of this    
great series1 the crowning  work has1 of
 course1 had many translators1 and there
 have been  translators also of the book
 that shows the youth of love4 ,but the 
noble fragment of the ,convito that     
unites these two has1 ,i believe1  never
 yet been placed within reach of the    
,english reader1 except by a            
translation of its poems only into      
unrhymed measure in ,mr4 ,charles       
,lyell's ,poems of the ,vita ,nuova and 
the ,convito1 published in #ahce4       
,the ,convito is a fragment4 ,there are 
four books where fifteen were  designed1
 including three only of the intended   
fourteen songs4 ,but the  plan is clear1
 and one or two glances forward to the  
matter of the  last book1 which would   

have had ,justice for its theme1 show   
that all  was to have been brought to a 
high spiritual close4    ,its aim was no
 less than the lifting of men's minds by
 knowledge of  the world without them   
and within them1 bound together in      
creation1  showing forth the ,mind of   
the ,creator4 ,the reader of this volume
 must  not flinch from the ingenious    
dialectics of the medival reasoner on   
,man and ,nature4 ,dante's knowledge is 
the knowledge of his time4  ,science had
 made little advance since              
,aristotle--who is the  ,philosopher    
taken by ,dante for his human           
guide--first laid its  foundations4 ,it 
is useful1 no doubt1 to be able in a    
book like this1  shaped by a noble mind1
 to study at their best the forms of    
reasoning  that made the science of the 
,middle ,ages4 ,but the reader is not   
called  upon to make his mind unhappy   
with endeavours to seize all the points1
  say1 of a theory of the heavens that  
was most ingenious1 but in no  part     

true4 ,the main thing is to observe how 
the mistaken reasoning  joins each of   
the seven sciences to one of the seven  
heavens1 and here  as everywhere joins  
earth to heaven1 and bids man lift his  
head and  look up1 ,godward1 to the     
source of light4 ,if spiritual truth    
could  only come from right and perfect 
knowledge1 this would have been a  world
 of dead souls from the first till now2 
for future centuries1 in  looking back  
at us1 will wonder at the little faulty 
knowledge that we  think so much4 ,but  
let the known be what it may1 the true  
soul rises  from it to a sense of the   
divine mysteries of ,wisdom and of      
,love4  ,dante's knowledge may be full  
of ignorance1 and so is ours4 ,but he   
fills it as he can with the ,spirit of  
,god4 ,he is not content that men       
should be as sheep1 and look downward to
 earth for all the food they  need4 ,he 
bids them to a ,banquet of another kind1
 whose dishes are of  knowledge for the 
mind and heavenward aspiration for the  

soul4    ,dante's ,convito--of which the
 name was1 no doubt1 suggested by the   
,banquets of ,plato and ,xenophon--was  
written at the close of his life1  after
 the ,divine ,comedy1 and no trace has  
been found of more of its  songs than   
the three which may have been written   
and made known some  time before he     
began work on their ,commentary4 ,death 
stayed his hand1  and the completion    
passed into a song that joined the voice
 of ,dante  to the praise in heaven4    
,h4,m4    ,april #ahhg4          ,,the  
,,banquet ,,of ,,dante ,,alighieri      
99       99       99       99       99  
,the ,first ,treatise4                  
,,chapter ,i4      ,as the ,philosopher 
says in the beginning of the first      
,philosophy1 ,all  men naturally desire 
,knowledge4 ,the reason of which may be1
 that each  thing1 impelled by the      
intuition of its own nature1 tends      
towards its  perfection1 hence1         
forasmuch as ,knowledge is the final    
perfection of  our ,soul1 in which our  

ultimate happiness consists1 we are all 
naturally subject to the desire for it4 
,verily1 many are deprived of this most 
noble perfection1 by divers  causes     
within the man and without him1 which   
remove him from the use  of ,knowledge4 
,within the man there may be two defects
 or impediments1 the one on the  part of
 the ,body1 the other on the part of the
 ,soul4 ,on the part of  the ,body it   
is1 when the parts are unfitly disposed1
 so that it can  receive nothing as with
 the deaf and dumb1 and their like4 ,on 
the part  of the ,soul it is1 when evil 
triumphs in it1 so that it becomes the  
follower of vicious pleasures1 through  
which it is so much deceived1  that on  
account of them it holds everything in  
contempt4    ,without the man1 two      
causes may in like manner be understood1
 of which  one comes of necessity1 the  
other of stagnation4 ,the first is the  
management of the family and conduct of 
civil affairs1 which fitly  draws to    
itself the greater number of men1 so    

that they cannot live in  the quietness 
of speculation4 ,the other is the fault 
of the place  where a person is born and
 reared1 which will ofttimes be not only
  without any ,school whatever1 but may 
be far distant from studious  people4   
,the two first of these causes--the     
first of the hindrance from  within1 and
 the first of the hindrance from        
without--are not deserving  of blame1   
but of excuse and pardon2 the two       
others1 although the one  more than the 
other1 deserve blame and are to be      
detested4    ,hence1 he who reflects    
well1 can manifestly see that they are  
few who  can attain to the enjoyment of 
,knowledge1 though it is desired by all1
  and almost innumerable are the        
fettered ones who live for ever         
famished of this food4    ,oh1 blessed  
are those few who sit at that table     
where the ,bread of  ,angels is eaten1  
and wretched those who can feed only as 
the ,sheep4  ,but because each man is   
naturally friendly to each man1 and each

  friend grieves for the fault of him   
whom he loves2 they who are fed at  that
 high table are full of mercy towards   
those whom they see straying  in one    
pasture with the creatures who eat grass
 and acorns4    ,and forasmuch as ,mercy
 is the ,mother of ,benevolence1 those  
who know  how1 do always liberally offer
 their good wealth to the true poor1 and
  are like a living stream1 whose water 
cools the before-named natural  thirst4 
,i1 then1 who sit not at the blessed    
table1 but having fled  from the pasture
 of the common herd1 lie at the feet of 
those who sit  there and gather up what 
falls from them1 by the sweetness which 
,i  find in that which ,i collect little
 by little1 ,i know the wretched  life  
of those whom ,i have left behind me2   
and moved mercifully for the  unhappy   
ones1 not forgetting myself1 ,i have    
reserved something which ,i  have shown 
to their eyes long ago1 and for this ,i 
have made them  greatly desirous4       
,wherefore1 now wishing to prepare for  

them1 ,i mean  to make a common ,banquet
 of this which ,i have shown to them1   
and of  that needed bread without which 
food such as this could not be eaten  by
 them at their feast2 bread fit for such
 meat1 which ,i know1 without  it1 would
 be furnished forth in vain4 ,and       
therefore ,i desire that no  one should 
sit at this ,banquet whose members are  
so unfitly disposed  that he has neither
 teeth1 nor tongue1 nor palate3 nor any 
follower of  vice2 inasmuch as his      
stomach is full of venomous and hurtful 
humours1  so that it will retain no food
 whatever4 ,but let those come to us1   
whosoever they be1 who1 pressed by the  
management of civil and  domestic life1 
have felt this human hunger1 and at one 
table with  others who have been in like
 bondage1 let them sit4 ,but at their   
feet  let us place all those who have   
been the slaves of sloth1 and who are   
not worthy to sit higher3 and then let  
these and those eat of my dish1  with   
the bread which ,i will cause them to   

taste and to digest4    ,the meat at    
this repast will be prepared in fourteen
 different ways1  that is1 in fourteen  
,songs1 some of whose themes will be of 
,love and  some of ,virtue3 which1      
without the present bread1 might have   
some  shadow of obscurity1 so that to   
many they might be acceptable more on   
account of their form than because of   
their spirit4 ,but this bread is  the   
present ,exposition4 ,it will be the    
,light whereby each colour of  their    
design will be made visible4    ,and if 
in the present work1 which is named     
,convito--the ,banquet1 the  glad ,life 
,together--,i desire that the subject   
should be discussed more  maturely than 
in the ,vita ,nuova--the ,new ,life--,i 
do not therefore mean  in any degree to 
undervalue that ,fresh ,life1 but       
greatly to enhance  it2 seeing how      
reasonable it is for that age to be     
fervid and  passionate1 and for this to 
be mature and temperate4 ,at one age it 
is  fit to speak and work in one way1   

and at another age in another way2      
because certain manners are fit and     
praiseworthy at one age which are       
improper and blameable at another1 as   
will be demonstrated with  suitable     
argument in the fourth treatise of this 
,book4 ,in that first  ,book 7,vita     
,nuova7 at the entrance into my youth ,i
 spoke2 and in this  latter ,i speak    
after my youth has already passed away4 
,and since my  true meaning may be other
 than that which the aforesaid songs    
show  forth1 ,i mean by an allegoric    
exposition to explain these after the   
literal argument shall have been        
reasoned out3 so that the one  argument 
with the other shall give a relish to   
those who are the  guests invited to    
this ,banquet4 ,and of them all ,i pray 
that if the  feast be not so splendid as
 befits the proclamation thereof1 let   
them  impute each defect1 not to my will
 but to my means1 since my will here  is
 to a full and loving ,liberality4      
,,chapter ,,ii4      ,in preparing for  

every well-ordered ,banquet the servants
 are wont to  take the proper bread1 and
 see that it is clean from all blemish2 
wherefore ,i1 who in the present writing
 stand in servant's place1  intend      
firstly to remove two spots from this   
exposition which at my  repast stands in
 the place of bread4    ,the one is1    
that it appears to be unlawful for any  
one to speak of  himself2 the other1    
that it seems to be unreasonable to     
speak too  deeply when giving           
explanations4 ,let the knife of my      
judgment pare  away from the present    
treatise the unlawful and the           
unreasonable4 ,one  does not permit any 
,rhetorician to speak of himself without
 a  necessary cause4 ,and from this is  
the man removed1 because he can  speak  
of no one without praise or blame of    
those of whom he speaks2  which two     
causes commonly induce a man to speak of
 himself4 ,and in  order to remove a    
doubt which here arises1 ,i say that it 
is worse for  any one to blame than to  

praise himself1 although neither may    
have to  be done4 ,the reason is1 that  
anything which is essentially wrong is  
worse than that which is wrong through  
accident4 ,for a man openly to  bring   
contempt on himself is essentially wrong
 to his friend1 because  a man owes it  
to take account of his fault secretly1  
and no one is  more friendly to himself 
than the man himself4 ,in the chamber of
 his  thoughts1 therefore1 he should    
reprove himself and weep over his       
faults1 and not before the world4       
,again1 a man is but seldom blamed  when
 he has not the power or the knowledge  
requisite to guide himself  aright3 but 
he is always blamed when weak of will1  
because our good or  evil dispositions  
are measured by the strength of will4   
,wherefore he  who blames himself proves
 that he knows his fault1 while he      
reveals  his want of goodness2 if1      
therefore1 he know his fault1 let him no
  more speak evil of himself4 ,if a man 
praise himself it is to avoid  evil1 as 

it were2 inasmuch as it cannot be done  
except such  self-laudation become in   
excess dishonour2 it is praise in       
appearance1  it is infamy in substance4 
,for the words are spoken to prove that 
of  which he has not inward assurance4  
,hence1 he who lauds himself proves  his
 belief that he is not esteemed to be a 
good man1 and this befalls  him not     
unless he have an evil conscience1 which
 he reveals by  self-praise1 and in so  
revealing it he blames himself4    ,and1
 again1 self-praise and self-blame are  
to be shunned equally1 for  this reason1
 that it is false witnessing4 ,because  
there is no man who  can be a true and  
just judge of himself1 so much will     
self-love  deceive him4 ,hence it       
happens that every man has in his own   
judgment  the measures of the false     
merchant1 who sells with the one1 and   
buys  with the other4 ,every man weights
 the scales against his own             
wrong-doing1 and adds weight to his good
 deeds2 so that the number and  the     

quantity and the weight of the good     
deeds appear to him to be  greater than 
if they were tried in a just balance2   
and in like manner  the evil appears    
less4 ,wherefore speaking of himself    
with praise or  with blame1 either he   
speaks falsely with regard to the thing 
of which  he speaks1 or he speaks       
falsely by the fault of his judgment2   
and as  the one is untruth1 so is the   
other4 ,and therefore1 since to         
acquiesce  is to admit1 he is wrong who 
praises or who blames before the face of
  any man2 because the man thus         
appraised can neither acquiesce nor deny
  without falling into the error of     
either praising or blaming himself4     
,reserve the way of due correction1     
which cannot be taken without  reproof  
of error1 and which corrects if         
understood4 ,reserve also the  way of   
due honour and glory1 which cannot be   
taken without mention of  virtuous      
works1 or of dignities that have been   
worthily acquired4    ,and in truth1    

returning to the main argument1 ,i say1 
as before1 that  it is permitted to a   
man for requisite reasons to speak of   
himself4  ,and amongst the several      
requisite reasons two are most evident3 
the  one is when a man cannot avoid     
great danger and infamy1 unless he      
discourse of himself2 and then it is    
conceded for the reason1 that to  take  
the less objectionable of the only two  
paths1 is to take as it  were a good    
one4 ,and this necessity moved ,boethius
 to speak of  himself1 in order that    
under pretext of ,consolation he might  
excuse  the perpetual shame of his      
imprisonment1 by showing that           
imprisonment  to be unjust2 since no    
other man arose to justify him4 ,and    
this reason  moved ,st4 ,augustine to   
speak of himself in his ,confessions2   
that1 by  the progress of his life1     
which was from bad to good1 and from    
good to  better1 and from better to     
best1 he might give example and         
instruction1 which1 from truer          

testimony1 no one could receive4        
,therefore1 if either of these reasons  
excuse me1 the bread of my  moulding is 
sufficiently cleared from its first     
impurity4    ,the fear of shame moves   
me2 and ,i am moved by the desire to    
give  instruction which others truly are
 unable to give4 ,i fear shame for      
having followed passion so ardently1 as 
he may conceive who reads the           
afore-named ,songs1 and sees how greatly
 ,i was ruled by it2 which shame  ceases
 entirely by the present speech of      
myself1 which proves that not  passion  
but virtue may have been the moving     
cause4    ,i intend also to demonstrate 
the true meaning of those ,poems1 which 
some could not perceive unless ,i relate
 it1 because it is concealed  under the 
veil of ,allegory2 and this it not only 
will give pleasure to  hear1 but subtle 
instruction1 both as to the diction and 
as to the  intention of the other       
writings4          ,,chapter ,,iii4     
,much fault is in that thing which is   

appointed to remove some grave  evil1   
and yet encourages it2 even as in the   
man who might be sent to  quell a       
tumult1 and1 before he had quelled it1  
should begin another4    ,and forasmuch 
as my bread is made clean on one side1  
it behoves me to  cleanse it on the     
other1 in order to shun this reproof3   
that my  writing1 which one may term1 as
 it were1 a ,commentary1 is appointed to
  remove obscurity from the             
before-mentioned ,songs1 and is1 in     
fact1  itself at times a little hard to 
understand4 ,this obscurity is here     
intended1 in order to avoid a greater   
defect1 and does not occur  through     
ignorance4 ,alas6 would that it might   
have pleased the  ,dispenser of the     
,universe that the cause of my excuse   
might never have  been2 that others     
might neither have sinned against me1   
nor ,i have  suffered punishment        
unjustly2 the punishment1 ,i say1 of    
exile and  poverty6 ,since it was the   
pleasure of the citizens of the most    

beautiful and the most famous daughter  
of ,rome1 ,florence1 to cast me  out    
from her most sweet bosom 7wherein ,i   
was born and nourished even  to the     
height of my life1 and in which1 with   
her goodwill1 ,i desire  with all my    
heart to repose my weary soul1 and to   
end the time which  is given to me71 ,i 
have gone through almost all the land in
 which this  language lives--a pilgrim1 
almost a mendicant--showing forth       
against  my will the wound of ,fortune1 
with which the ruined man is often      
unjustly reproached4 ,truly ,i have been
 a ship without a sail and  without a   
rudder1 borne to divers ports and lands 
and shores by the  dry wind which blows 
from doleful poverty2 and ,i have       
appeared vile in  the eyes of many1 who 
perhaps through some report may have    
imaged me  in other form4 ,in the sight 
of whom not only my person became vile1 
but each work already completed was held
 to be of less value than that  might   
again be which remained yet to be done4 

,the reason wherefore this happens 7not 
only to me but to all71 it now  pleases 
me here briefly to touch upon4 ,and     
firstly1 it is because  rumour goes     
beyond the truth2 and then1 what is     
beyond the truth  restricts and         
strangles it4 ,good report is the first 
born of kindly  thought in the mind of  
the friend2 which the mind of the foe1  
although  it may receive the seed1      
conceives not4    ,that mind which gives
 birth to it in the first place1 so to  
make its  gift more fair1 as by the     
charity of friendship1 keeps not within 
bounds of truth1 but passes beyond them4
 ,when one does that to adorn a  tale1  
he speaks against his conscience2 when  
it is charity that causes  him to pass  
the bounds1 he speaks not against       
conscience4    ,the second mind which   
receives this1 not only is content with 
the  exaggeration of the first mind1 but
 its own report adds its own effect  of 
endeavours to embellish1 and so by this 
action1 and by the  deception which it  

also receives from the goodwill         
generated in it1  good report is made   
more ample than it should be2 either    
with the  consent or the dissent of the 
conscience2 even as it was with the     
first mind4 ,and the third receiving    
mind does this2 and the fourth2  and    
thus the exaggeration of good ever      
grows4 ,and so1 by turning the          
aforesaid motives in the contrary       
direction1 one can perceive why         
ill-fame in like manner is made to grow4
 ,wherefore ,virgil says in the  fourth 
of the neid3 ,let ,fame live to be      
fickle1 and grow as she  goes4 ,clearly1
 then1 he who is willing may perceive   
that the image  generated by ,fame alone
 is always larger1 whatever it may be1  
than the  thing imaged is1 in its true  
state4          ,,chapter ,,iv4         
,having previously shown the reason why 
,fame magnifies the good and the  evil  
beyond due limit1 it remains in this    
chapter to show forth those  reasons    
which make evident why the ,presence    

restricts in the opposite  way1 and     
having shown this ,i will return to the 
principal proposition4  ,i say1 then1   
that for three causes his ,presence     
makes a person of less  value than he   
is4 ,the first is childishness1 ,i do   
not say of age1 but  of mind2 the second
 is envy2 and these are in the judge3   
the third is  human impurity2 and this  
is in the person judged4 ,the first1 one
 can  briefly reason thus3 the greater  
part of men live according to sense  and
 not according to reason1 after the     
manner of children1 and the  like of    
these judge things simply from without2 
and the goodness which  is ordained to a
 fit end they perceive not1 because the 
eyes of  ,reason1 which they need in    
order to perceive it1 are closed4       
,hence1  they soon see all that they    
can1 and judge according to their sight4
    ,and forasmuch as any opinion they  
form on the good fame of others1  from  
hearsay1 with which1 in the presence of 
the person judged1 their  imperfect     

judgment may dissent1 they amend not    
according to reason1  because they judge
 merely according to sense1 they will   
deem that  which they have first heard  
to be a lie as it were1 and dispraise   
the  person who was previously praised4 
,hence1 in such men1 and such are       
almost all1 ,presence restricts the one 
fame and the other4 ,such men as  these 
are inconstant and are soon cloyed2 they
 are often gay and often  sad from brief
 joys and sorrows2 speedy friends and   
speedy foes2 each  thing they do like   
children1 without the use of reason4    
,the second observation from these      
reasons is1 that due comparison is      
cause for envy to the vicious2 and envy 
is a cause of evil judgment1  because it
 does not permit ,reason to argue for   
that which is envied1  and the judicial 
power is then like the judge who hears  
only one side4  ,hence1 when such men as
 these perceive a person to be famous1  
they are  immediately jealous1 because  
they compare members and powers2 and    

they  fear1 on account of the excellence
 of such an one1 to be themselves       
accounted of less worth2 and these      
passionate men1 not only judge  evilly1 
but1 by defamation1 they cause others to
 judge evilly4  ,wherefore with such men
 their apprehension restricts the       
acknowledgment of good and evil in each 
person represented2 and ,i say  this    
also of evil1 because many who delight  
in evil deeds have envy  towards        
evil-doers4    ,the third observation is
 of human frailty1 which one accepts on 
the  part of him who is judged1 and from
 which familiar conversation is not     
altogether free4 ,in evidence of this1  
it is to be known that man is  stained  
in many parts2 and1 as says ,st4        
,augustine1 none is without  spot4 ,now1
 the man is stained with some passion1  
which he cannot  always resist2 now1 he 
is blemished by some fault of limb2 now1
 he is  bruised by some blow from       
,fortune2 now1 he is soiled by the      
ill-fame  of his parents1 or of some    

near relation3 things which ,fame does  
not  bear with her1 but which hang to   
the man1 so that he reveals them by  his
 conversation2 and these spots cast some
 shadow upon the brightness  of         
goodness1 so that they cause it to      
appear less bright and less  excellent4 
,and this is the reason why each prophet
 is less honoured in  his own country2  
and this is why the good man ought to   
give his  presence to few1 and his      
familiarity to still fewer1 in order    
that his  name may be received and not  
despised4 ,and this third observation   
may  be the same for the evil as for the
 good1 if we reverse the conditions  of 
the argument4 ,wherefore it is clearly  
evident that by  imperfections1 from    
which no one is free1 the seen ,presence
 restricts  right perception of the good
 and of the evil in every one1 more than
  truth desires4 ,hence1 since1 as has  
been said above1 ,i myself have  been1  
as it were1 visibly present to all the  
,italians1 by which ,i  perhaps am made 

more vile than truth desires1 not only  
to those to  whom my repute had already 
run1 but also to others1 whereby ,i am  
made  the lighter2 it behoves me that   
with a more lofty style ,i may give to  
the present work a little gravity1      
through which it may show greater       
authority4 ,let this suffice to excuse  
the difficulty of my commentary4        
,,chapter ,v4      ,since this bread is 
now cleared of accidental spots1 it     
remains to  excuse it from a substantial
 one1 that is for being in my native    
tongue and not in ,latin2 which by      
similitude one may term1 of  barley-meal
 and not of wheaten flour4 ,and from    
this it is briefly  excused by three    
reasons which moved me to choose the one
 rather than  the other4 ,one springs   
from the avoidance of inconvenient      
,unfitness3  the second from the        
readiness of well-adjusted ,liberality2 
the third  from the natural ,love for   
one's own ,native ,tongue4 ,and these   
things1  with the grounds for them1 to  

the staying of all possible reproof1 ,i 
mean in due order to reason out in this 
form4    ,that which most adorns and    
commends human actions1 and which most  
directly leads them to a good result1 is
 the use of dispositions best  adapted  
to the end in view2 as the end aimed at 
in knighthood is  courage of mind and   
strength of body4 ,and thus he who is   
ordained to  the service of others1     
ought to have those dispositions which  
are  suited to that end2 as submission1 
knowledge and obedience1 without  which 
any one is unfit to serve well4 ,because
 if he is not subject to  each of these 
conditions1 he proceeds in his service  
always with  fatigue and trouble1 and   
but seldom continues in it4 ,if he is   
not  obedient1 he never serves except as
 in his wisdom he thinks fit1 and  when 
he wills2 which is rather the service of
 a friend than of a  servant4 ,hence1 to
 escape this disorder1 this commentary  
is fit1 which  is made as a servant to  
the under-written ,songs1 in order to be

  subject to these1 and to each separate
 command of theirs4 ,it must be         
conscious of the wants of its lord1 and 
obedient to him1 which  dispositions    
would be all wanting to it if it were a 
,latin servant1  not a native1 since the
 songs are all in the language of our   
people4  ,for1 in the first place1 if it
 had been a ,latin servant he would be  
not a subject but a sovereign1 in       
nobility1 in virtue1 and in beauty2  in 
nobility1 because the ,latin is         
perpetual and incorruptible2 the        
language of the vulgar is unstable and  
corruptible4 ,hence we see in  the      
ancient writings of the ,latin ,comedies
 and ,tragedies that they  cannot       
change1 being the same ,latin that we   
now have2 this happens not  with our    
native tongue1 which1 being home-made1  
changes at pleasure4  ,hence we see in  
the cities of ,italy1 if we will look   
carefully back  fifty years from the    
present time1 many words to have become 
extinct1  and to have been born1 and to 

have been altered4 ,but if a little time
  transforms them thus1 a longer time   
changes them more4 ,so that ,i say      
that1 if those who departed from this   
life a thousand years ago should  come  
back to their cities1 they would believe
 those cities to be  inhabited by a     
strange people1 who speak a tongue      
discordant from  their own4 ,on this    
subject ,i will speak elsewhere more    
completely in a  book which ,i intend to
 write1 ,god willing1 on the ,language  
of the  ,people4    ,again1 the ,latin  
was not subject1 but sovereign1 through 
virtue4 ,each  thing has virtue in its  
nature1 which does that to which it is  
ordained2 and the better it does it so  
much the more virtue it has3  hence we  
call that man virtuous who lives a life 
contemplative or  active1 doing that for
 which he is best fitted2 we ascribe his
 virtue  to the horse that runs swiftly 
and much1 to which end he is ordained3  
we see virtue of a sword that cuts      
through hard things well1 since it  has 

been made to do so4 ,thus speech1 which 
is ordained to express  human thought1  
has virtue when it does that2 and most  
virtue is in the  speech which does it  
most4 ,hence1 forasmuch as the ,latin   
reveals many  things conceived in the   
mind which the vulgar tongue cannot     
express1  even as those know who have   
the use of either language1 its virtue  
is  far greater than that of the vulgar 
tongue4    ,again1 it was not subject1  
but sovereign1 because of its beauty4   
,that  thing man calls beautiful whose  
parts are duly proportionate1 because   
beauty results from their harmony2      
hence1 man appears to be beautiful  when
 his limbs are duly proportioned2 and we
 call a song beautiful  when the voices 
in it1 according to the rule of art1 are
 in harmony  with each other4 ,hence1   
that language is most beautiful in which
 the  words most fitly correspond1 and  
this they do more in the ,latin than  in
 the present ,language of the ,people1  
since the beautiful vulgar  tongue      

follows use1 and the ,latin1 ,art4      
,hence1 one concedes it to be  more     
beautiful1 more virtuous and more noble4
 ,and so one concludes1 as  first       
proposed2 that is1 that the ,latin      
,commentary would have been the         
,sovereign1 not the ,subject1 of the    
,songs4          ,,chapter ,,vi4        
,having shown how the present           
,commentary could not have been the     
subject of ,songs written in our native 
tongue1 if it had been in the  ,latin1  
it remains to show how it could not have
 been capable or  obedient to those     
,songs2 and then it will be shown how1  
to avoid  unsuitable disorder1 it was   
needful to speak in the native tongue4  
,i say that ,latin would not have been a
 capable servant for my ,lord the       
,vernacular1 for this reason4 ,the      
servant is required chiefly to know  two
 things perfectly3 the one is the nature
 of his lord1 because there  are lords  
of such an asinine nature that they     
command the opposite of  that which they

 desire2 and there are others who1      
without speaking1  wish to be understood
 and served2 and there are others who   
will not  let the servant move to do    
that which is needful1 unless they have 
ordered it4 ,and because these          
variations are in men1 ,i do not intend 
in the present work to show1 for the    
digression would be enlarged too  much1 
except as ,i speak in general1 that such
 men as these are beasts1  as it were1  
to whom reason is of little worth4      
,wherefore1 if the  servant know not the
 nature of his lord1 it is evident that 
he cannot  serve him perfectly4 ,the    
other thing is1 that it is requisite for
 the  servant to know also the friends  
of his lord2 for otherwise he could  not
 honour them1 nor serve them1 and thus  
he would not serve his lord  perfectly3 
forasmuch as the friends are the parts  
of a whole1 as it  were1 because their  
whole is one wish or its opposite4      
,neither would  the ,latin ,commentary  
have had such knowledge of those things 

as the  vulgar tongue itself has4 ,that 
the ,latin cannot be acquainted with the
  ,vulgar ,tongue and with its friends1 
is thus proved4 ,he who knows  anything 
in general knows not that thing         
perfectly2 even as he who  knows from   
afar off one animal1 knows not that     
animal perfectly1  because he knows not 
if it be a dog1 a wolf1 or a he-goat4   
,the ,latin  knows the ,vulgar tongue in
 general1 but not separately2 for if it 
should know it separately it would know 
all the ,vulgar ,tongues1  because it is
 not right that it should know one more 
than the other2  and thus1 what man     
soever might possess the complete       
knowledge of the  ,latin tongue1 the use
 of that knowledge would show him all   
distinctions of the ,vulgar4 ,but this  
is not so1 for one used to the  ,latin  
does not distinguish1 if he be a native 
of ,italy1 the vulgar  tongue of        
,provence from the ,german1 nor can the 
,german distinguish the  vulgar ,italian
 tongue from that of ,provence3 hence1  

it is evident that  the ,latin is not   
cognizant of the ,vulgar4 ,again1 it is 
not cognizant  of its friends1 because  
it is impossible to know the friends    
without  knowing the principal2 hence1  
if the ,latin does not know the ,vulgar1
  as it is proved above1 it is          
impossible for it to know its friends4  
,again1 without conversation or         
familiarity1 it is impossible to know   
men2 and the ,latin has no conversation 
with so many in any language as  the    
,vulgar has1 to which all are friends1  
and consequently cannot know  the       
friends of the ,vulgar4    ,and this1   
that it would be possible to say1 is no 
contradiction2 that  the ,latin does    
converse with some friends of the       
,vulgar3 but since it  is not familiar  
with all1 it is not perfectly acquainted
 with its  friends1 whereas perfect     
knowledge is required1 and not          
defective4          ,,chapter ,,vii4    
,having proved that the ,latin          
,commentary could not have been a       

capable  servant1 ,i will tell how it   
could not have been an obedient one4 ,he
 is  obedient who has the good          
disposition which is called obedience4  
,true  obedience must have three things1
 without which it cannot be3 it  should 
be sweet1 and not bitter2 entirely under
 control1 and not  impulsive2 with due  
measure1 and not excessive2 which three 
things it  was impossible for the ,latin
 ,commentary to have2 and1 therefore1 it
  was impossible for it to be obedient4 
,that to the ,latin it would have  been 
impossible1 as is said1 is evident by   
such an argument as this3  each thing   
which proceeds by an inverse order is   
laborious1 and  consequently is bitter1 
and not sweet2 even as to sleep by day  
and to  wake by night1 and to go        
backwards and not forwards4 ,for the    
subject  to command the sovereign1 is to
 proceed in the inverse order2 because  
the direct order is1 for the sovereign  
to command the subject2 and  thus it is 
bitter1 and not sweet2 and because to   

the bitter command it  is impossible to 
give sweet obedience1 it is impossible1 
when the  subject commands1 for the     
obedience of the sovereign to be sweet4 
,hence if the ,latin is the sovereign of
 the ,vulgar ,tongue1 as is shown  above
 by many reasons1 and the ,songs1 which 
are in place of  commanders1 are in the 
,vulgar ,tongue1 it is impossible for   
the  argument to be sweet4 ,then is     
obedience entirely commanded1 and in no 
way spontaneous1 when that which the    
obedient man does1 he would not  have   
done of his own will1 either in whole or
 in part1 without  commandment4 ,and1   
therefore1 if it might be commanded to  
me to carry  two long robes upon my     
back1 and if without commandment ,i     
should carry  one1 ,i say that my       
obedience is not entirely commanded1 but
 is in part  spontaneous2 and such would
 have been that of the ,latin           
,commentary1  and consequently it would 
not have been obedience entirely        
commanded4  ,what such might have been  

appears by this1 that the ,latin1       
without the  command of this ,lord1 the 
,vernacular1 would have expounded many  
parts  of his argument 7and it does     
expound1 as he who searches well the    
books written in ,latin may perceive71  
which the ,vulgar ,tongue does  nowhere4
    ,again1 obedience is within bounds1 
and not excessive1 when it goes to  the 
limit of the command1 and no further2 as
 ,individual ,nature is  obedient to    
,universal ,nature when she makes       
thirty-two teeth in the  man1 and no    
more and no less2 and when she makes    
five fingers on the  hand1 and no more  
and no less2 and the man is obedient to 
,justice when  he does that which the   
,law commands1 and no more and no less4 
,neither would the ,latin have done     
this1 but it would have sinned not  only
 in the defect1 and not only in the     
excess1 but in each one2 and  thus its  
obedience would not have been within due
 limit1 but  intemperate1 and           
consequently it would not have been     

obedient4 ,that  the ,latin would not   
have been the executor of the           
commandment of his  ,lord1 and that     
neither would he have been a usurper1   
one can easily  prove4 ,this ,lord1     
namely1 these ,songs1 to which this     
,commentary is  ordained for their      
servant1 commands and desires that they 
shall be  explained to all those whose  
mind is so far intelligent that when    
they  hear speech they can understand1  
and when they speak they can be         
understood4 ,and no one doubts1 that if 
the ,songs should command by  word of   
mouth1 this would be their commandment4 
,but the ,latin would  not have         
explained them1 except to the learned   
men3 and so that the  rest could not    
have understood4 ,hence1 forasmuch as   
the number of  unlearned men who desire 
to understand those ,songs may be far   
greater  than the learned1 it follows   
that it could not have fulfilled its    
commandment so well as the ,native      
,tongue1 which is understood both by    

the ,learned and the ,unlearned4 ,again1
 the ,latin would have explained  them  
to people of another language1 as to the
 ,germans1 to the ,english1  and to     
others2 and here it would have exceeded 
their commandment4 ,for  against their  
will1 speaking freely1 ,i say1 their    
meaning would be  explained there where 
they could not convey it in all their   
beauty4    ,and1 therefore1 let each one
 know1 that nothing which is harmonized 
by  the bond of the ,muse can be        
translated from its own language into   
another1 without breaking all its       
sweetness and harmony4 ,and this is  the
 reason why ,homer was not translated   
from ,greek into ,latin1 like  the other
 writings that we have of the ,greeks4  
,and this is the reason  why the verses 
of the ,psalms are without sweetness of 
music and  harmony2 for they were       
translated from ,hebrew into ,greek1 and
 from  ,greek into ,latin1 and in the   
first translation all that sweetness    
vanished4    ,and1 thus is concluded    

that which was proposed in the beginning
 of the  chapter immediately before     
this4          ,,chapter ,,viii4        
,since it is proved by sufficient       
reasons that1 in order to avoid         
unsuitable confusion1 it would be right 
that the above-named ,songs be  opened  
and explained by a ,commentary in our   
,native ,tongue and not in  the ,latin1 
,i intend to show again how a ready     
,liberality makes me  select this way   
and leave the other4 ,it is possible1   
then1 to perceive  a ready ,liberality  
in three things1 which go with this     
,native ,tongue1  and which would not   
have gone with the ,latin4 ,the first is
 to give to  many2 the second is to give
 useful things2 the third is to give the
  gift without being asked for it4      
,for to give to and to assist one person
 is good2 but to give to and to  assist 
many is ready goodness1 inasmuch as it  
has a similitude to the  good gifts of  
,god1 who is the ,benefactor of the     
,universe4 ,and again1  to give to many 

is impossible without giving to one1    
forasmuch as one  is included in many4  
,but to give to one may be good without 
giving to  many1 because he who assists 
many does good to one and to the other2 
he who assists one does good to one     
only3 hence1 we see the imposers  of the
 laws1 especially if they are for the   
common good1 hold the eyes  fixed whilst
 compiling these laws4 ,again1 to give  
useless things to  the receiver is also 
a good1 inasmuch as he who gives1 shows 
himself  at least to be a friend2 but it
 is not a perfect good1 and therefore   
it is not ready3 as if a knight should  
give to a doctor a shield1 and  as if   
the doctor should give to a knight the  
written aphorisms of  ,hippocrates1 or  
rather the technics of ,galen2 because  
the wise men say  that the face of the  
gift ought to be similar to that of the 
receiver1 that is1 that it be suitable  
to him1 and that it be useful2  and     
therein it is called ready liberality in
 him who thus  discriminates in giving4 

,but forasmuch as moral discourses      
usually create a desire to see their    
origin1 in this chapter ,i intend       
briefly to demonstrate four reasons  why
 of necessity the gift 7in order that it
 be ready liberality7  should be useful 
to him who receives4 ,firstly1 because  
virtue must be  cheerful and not sad in 
every action3 hence1 if the gift be not 
cheerful in the giving and in the       
receiving1 in it there is not  perfect  
nor ready virtue4 ,and this joy can     
spring only from the  utility1 which    
resides in the giver through the giving1
 and which  comes to the receiver       
through the receiving4 ,in the giver1   
then1 there  must be the foresight1 in  
doing this1 that on his part there shall
  remain the benefit of an inherent     
virtue which is above all other         
advantages2 and that to the receiver    
come the benefit of the use of  the     
thing given4 ,thus the one and the other
 will be cheerful1 and  consequently it 
will be a ready liberality1 that is1 a  

liberality both  prompt and well        
considered4    ,secondly1 because virtue
 ought always to move things forwards   
and  upwards4 ,for even as it would be a
 blameable action to make a spade of  a 
beautiful sword1 or to make a fair basin
 of a lovely lute2 so it is  wrong to   
move anything from a place where it may 
be useful1 and to  carry it into a place
 where it may be less useful4 ,and since
 it is  blameable to work in vain1 it is
 wrong not merely to put the thing in  a
 place where it may be less useful1 but 
even in a place where it may  be equally
 useful4 ,hence1 in order that the      
changing of the place of a  thing may be
 laudable1 it must always be for the    
better1 because it  ought to be         
especially praiseworthy2 and this the   
gift cannot be1 if  by transformation it
 become not more precious4 ,nor can it  
become more  precious1 if it be not more
 useful to the receiver than to the     
giver4  ,wherefore1 one concludes that  
the gift must be useful to him who      

receives it1 in order that it may be in 
itself ready liberality4    ,thirdly1   
because the exercise of the virtue of   
itself ought to be the  acquirer of     
friends4 ,for our life has need of      
these1 and the end of  virtue is to make
 life happy4 ,but that the gift may make
 the receiver  a friend1 it must be     
useful to him1 because utility stamps on
 the  memory the image of the gift1     
which is the food of friendship1 and the
  firmer the impression1 so much the    
greater is the utility2 hence1  ,martino
 was wont to say1 ,never will fade from 
my mind the gift  ,giovanni made me4    
,wherefore1 in order that in the gift   
there may be  its virtue1 which is      
,liberality1 and that it may be ready1  
it must be  useful to him who receives  
it4    ,finally1 since the act of virtue
 should be free1 not forced1 it is  free
 action1 when a person goes willingly to
 any place2 which is shown  by his      
keeping the face turned thitherward2 it 
is forced action1 when  he goes against 

his will2 which is shown by his not     
looking cheerfully  towards the place   
whither he goes3 and thus the gift looks
 towards its  appointed place when it   
addresses itself to the need of the     
receiver4  ,and since it cannot address 
itself to that need except it be useful1
  it follows1 in order that it may be   
with free action1 that the virtue  be   
free1 and that the gift go freely to its
 object1 which is the  receiver2 and    
consequently the gift must be to the    
utility of the  receiver1 in order that 
there may be a prompt and reasonable    
,liberality therein4    ,the third      
respect in which one can observe a ready
 ,liberality1 is  giving unasked2       
because1 to give what is asked1 is1 on  
one side1 not  virtue1 but traffic2 for1
 the receiver buys1 although the giver  
may  not sell2 and so ,seneca says that 
nothing is purchased more dearly  than  
that whereon prayers are expended4      
,hence1 in order that in the  gift there
 be ready ,liberality1 and that one may 

perceive that to be  in it1 there must  
be freedom from each act of traffic1 and
 the gift  must be unasked4 ,wherefore  
that which is besought costs us so dear1
 ,i  do not mean to argue now1 because  
it will be fully discussed in the  last 
treatise of this book4                  
,,chapter ,,ix4      ,a ,latin          
,commentary would be wanting in all the 
three above-mentioned  conditions1 which
 must concur1 in order that in the      
benefit conferred  there may be ready   
,liberality2 and our ,mother ,tongue    
possesses all1 as  it is possible to    
show thus manifestly4 ,the ,latin would 
not have  served many2 for if we recall 
to memory that which is discoursed of   
above1 the learned men1 without the     
,italian tongue1 could not have had     
this service4 ,and those who know       
,latin1 if we wish to see clearly who   
they are1 we shall find that1 out of a  
thousand one only would have  been      
reasonably served by it1 because they   
would not have received it1  so prompt  

are they to avarice1 which removes them 
from each nobility  of soul that        
especially desires this food4 ,and to   
the shame of them1 ,i  say that they    
ought not to be called learned men3     
because they do not  acquire knowledge  
for the use of it1 but forasmuch as they
 gain money  or dignity thereby2 even as
 one ought not to call him a harper who 
keeps a harp in his house to be lent out
 for a price1 and not to use  it for its
 music4    ,returning1 then1 to the     
principal proposition1 ,i say that one  
can see  clearly how the ,latin would   
have given its good gift to few1 but the
  ,mother ,tongue will serve many4 ,for 
the willingness of heart which  awaits  
this service1 is in those who1 through  
misuse of the world1  have left         
,literature to men who have made of her 
a harlot2 and these  nobles are princes1
 barons1 knights1 and many other noble  
people1 not  only men1 but women1 whose 
language is that of the people and      
unlearned4 ,again1 the ,latin would not 

have been giver of a useful  gift1 as   
the ,mother ,tongue will be2 forasmuch  
as nothing is useful  except inasmuch as
 it is used2 nor is there a perfect     
existence with  inactive goodness4 ,even
 so of gold1 and pearls1 and other      
treasures  which are subterranean1 those
 which are in the hand of the miser are 
in a lower place than is the earth      
wherein the treasure was concealed4     
,the gift truly of this ,commentary is  
the explanation of the ,songs1 for      
whose service it is made4 ,it seeks     
especially to lead men to wisdom  and to
 virtue1 as will be seen by the process 
of this treatise4 ,this  design those   
only could have in use in whom true     
nobility is sown1  after the manner that
 will be described in the fourth        
treatise2 and  these are almost all men 
of the people1 as those are noble which 
in  this chapter are named above4 ,and  
there is no contradiction1 though  some 
learned man may be amongst them2 for1 as
 says my ,master ,aristotle  in the     

first book of the ,ethics1 ,one swallow 
does not make the  ,spring4 ,it is1     
then1 evident that the ,mother ,tongue  
will give the  useful thing where ,latin
 would not have given it4 ,again1 the   
,mother  ,tongue will give that gift    
unasked1 which the ,latin would not have
  given1 because it will give itself in 
form of a ,commentary which never  was  
asked for by any person4 ,but this one  
cannot say of the ,latin1  which for    
,commentary and for ,expositions to many
 writings has often  been in request1 as
 one can perceive clearly in the opening
 of many a  book4    ,and thus it is    
evident that a ready ,liberality moved  
me to use the  ,mother ,tongue rather   
than ,latin4          ,,chapter ,x4     
,he greatly needs excuse who1 at a feast
 so noble in its provisions1  and so    
honourable in its guests1 sets bread of 
barley1 not of wheaten  flour3 and      
evident must be the reason which can    
make a man depart from  that which has  
long been the custom of others1 as the  

use of ,latin in  writing a ,commentary4
 ,and1 therefore1 he would make the     
reason  evident2 for the end of new     
things is not certain1 because          
experience  of them has never been had  
before3 hence1 the ways used and        
observed  are estimated both in process 
and in the end4    ,reason1 therefore1  
is moved to command that man should     
diligently look  about him when he      
enters a new path1 saying1 that1 in     
deliberating  about new things1 that    
reason must be clear which can make a   
man  depart from an old custom4 ,let no 
one marvel1 then1 if the digression     
touching my apology be long2 but1 as is 
necessary1 let him bear its  length with
 patience4    ,continuing it1 ,i say    
that1 since it has been shown how1 in   
order to  avoid unsuitable confusion and
 from readiness of liberality1 ,i fixed 
on the ,commentary in the ,mother       
,tongue and left the ,latin1 the order  
of the entire apology requires that ,i  
now prove how ,i attached myself  to    

that through the natural love for my    
native tongue1 which is the  third and  
last reason which moved me to this4 ,i  
say that natural love  moves the lover  
principally to three things3 the one is 
to exalt the  loved object1 the second  
is to be jealous thereof1 the third is  
to  defend it1 as each one sees         
constantly to happen2 and these three   
things made me adopt it1 that is1 our   
,mother ,tongue1 which naturally  and   
accidentally ,i love and have loved4    
,i was moved in the first place to exalt
 it4 ,and that ,i do exalt it may  be   
seen by this reason3 it happens that it 
is possible to magnify  things in many  
conditions of greatness1 and nothing    
makes so great as  the greatness of that
 goodness which is the mother and       
preserver of  all other forms of        
greatness4 ,and no greater goodness can 
a man have  than that of virtuous       
action1 which is his own goodness1 by   
which the  greatness of true dignity and
 of true honour1 of true power1 of true 

riches1 of true friends1 of true and    
pure renown1 are acquired and           
preserved3 and this greatness ,i give to
 this friend1 inasmuch as that  which he
 had of goodness in latent power and    
hidden1 ,i cause him to  have in action 
and revealed in its own operation1 which
 is to declare  thought4    ,secondly1  
,i was moved by jealousy of it4 ,the    
jealousy of the friend  makes a man     
anxious to secure lasting provision2    
wherefore1 thinking  that1 from the     
desire to understand these ,songs1 some 
unlearned man  would have translated the
 ,latin ,commentary into the ,mother    
,tongue2 and  fearing that the ,mother  
,tongue might have been employed by some
 one  who would have made it seem ugly1 
as he did who translated the ,latin  of 
the ,ethics1 ,i endeavoured to employ   
it1 trusting in myself more  than in any
 other4 ,again1 ,i was moved to defend  
it from its numerous  accusers1 who     
depreciate it and commend others1       
especially the ,langue  d',oc1 saying1  

that the latter is more beautiful and   
better than this1  therein deviating    
from the truth4 ,for by this ,commentary
 the great  excellence of our common    
,lingua di ,si will appear1 since       
through it1  most lofty and most        
original ideas may be as fitly1         
sufficiently1 and  easily expressed as  
if it were by the ,latin itself1 which  
cannot show  its virtue in things rhymed
 because of accidental ornaments which  
are  connected therewith--that is1 the  
rhyme and the rhythm1 or the  regulated 
measure2 as it is with the beauty of a  
lady when the  splendour of the jewels  
and of the garments excite more         
admiration  than she herself4 ,he1      
therefore1 who wishes to judge well of a
 lady  looks at her when she is alone   
and her natural beauty is with her1     
free from all accidental ornament4 ,so  
it will be with this ,commentary1  in   
which will be seen the facility of the  
syllables1 the propriety of  the        
conditions1 and the sweet orations which

 are made in our ,mother  ,tongue1 which
 a good observer will perceive to be    
full of most sweet  and most amiable    
beauty4 ,but1 since it is most          
determined in its  intention to show the
 error and the malice of the accuser1 ,i
 will  tell1 to the confusion of those  
who accuse the ,italian language1       
wherefore they are moved to do this2 and
 this ,i shall do in a special  chapter1
 in order that their shame may be more  
notable4          ,,chapter ,,xi4       
,to the perpetual shame and abasement of
 the evil men of ,italy who  commend the
 ,mother ,tongue of other nations and   
depreciate their own1 ,i  say that their
 action proceeds from five abominable   
causes3 the first  is blindness of      
discretion2 the second1 mischievous     
self-justification2  the third1 greed of
 vainglory2 the fourth1 an invention of 
envy2 the  fifth and last1 vileness of  
mind1 that is1 cowardice4 ,and each one 
of  these grave faults has a great      
following1 for few are those who are    

free from them4    ,of the first1 one   
can reason thus4 ,as the sensitive part 
of the soul  has its eyes1 with which it
 learns the difference of things1       
inasmuch  as they are coloured          
externally2 so the rational part has its
 eye with  which it learns the          
difference of things1 inasmuch as each  
is ordained  to some end2 and this is   
discretion4 ,and as he who is blind with
 the  eyes of sense goes always         
according to the guidance of others     
judging  evil and good2 so he who is    
blinded from the light of discretion1   
always goes in his judgment according to
 the cry1 right or wrong as it  may be4 
,hence1 whenever the guide is blind1 it 
must follow that what  blind man soever 
leans on him must come to a bad end4    
,therefore it is  written that1 ,if the 
blind lead the blind1 both fall into the
 ditch4  ,this cry has been long raised 
against our ,mother ,tongue1 for the    
reasons which will be argued below4     
,after this cry the blind men above     

mentioned1 who are infinite1 as it  were
 with one hand on the shoulder of these 
false witnesses1 have  fallen into the  
ditch of false opinion1 from which they 
know not how  to escape4 ,from the use  
of the sight of discretion the mass of  
the  people are debarred1 because each  
being occupied from the early years  of 
his life with some trade1 he so directs 
his mind to that1 by force  of          
necessity1 that he understands nought   
else4 ,and forasmuch as the  habit of   
virtue1 moral as well as intellectual1  
cannot possibly be had  all on a sudden1
 but it must be acquired through long   
custom1 and as  these people place their
 custom in some art1 and care not to    
discern  other things1 it is impossible 
to them to have discretion4 ,wherefore  
it happens that often they cry aloud3   
,long live ,death6 and ,let ,life  die6 
because some one begins the cry4 ,and   
this is the most dangerous  defect in   
their blindness4 ,for this reason       
,boethius judges glory of  the people   

vain1 because he sees it to be without  
discernment4 ,these  persons are to be  
termed sheep and not men2 for if a sheep
 should leap  over a precipice of a     
thousand feet1 all the others would     
follow after  it2 and if one sheep1 for 
some cause or other1 in crossing a road1
  leaps1 all the others leap1 even when 
they see nothing to leap over4  ,and ,i 
once saw many leap into a well1 because 
one had leapt into it1  believing       
perhaps that it was leaping a wall2     
notwithstanding that the  shepherd1     
weeping and shouting1 with arms and     
breast set himself  against them4       
,the second faction against our ,mother 
,tongue springs from a malicious        
self-justification4 ,there are many who 
would rather be thought masters  than be
 such2 and to avoid the opposite--that  
is1 to be held not to be  such--they    
always cast blame on the material they  
work on1 or upon the  instrument2 as the
 clumsy smith blames the iron given to  
him1 and the  bad harpist blames the    

harp1 thinking to cast the blame of the 
bad  blade and of the bad music upon the
 iron and upon the harp1 and to  lift it
 from themselves4 ,thus there are some1 
and not a few1 who  desire that a man   
may hold them to be orators2 and to     
excuse  themselves for not speaking1 or 
for speaking badly1 they accuse or      
throw blame on the material1 that is1   
their own ,mother ,tongue1 and  praise  
that of other lands1 which they are not 
required to employ4 ,and  he who wishes 
to see wherefore this iron is to be     
blamed1 let him look  at the work which 
good artificers make of it1 and he will 
understand  the malice of those who1 in 
casting blame upon it1 think thereby to 
excuse themselves4 ,against such as     
these1 ,tullius exclaims in the         
beginning of his book1 which he names   
the book ,de ,finibus1 because  in his  
time they blamed the ,roman ,latin and  
praised the ,greek grammar4  ,and thus  
,i say1 for like reasons1 that these men
 vilify the ,italian  tongue1 and       

glorify that of ,provence4    ,the third
 faction against our ,mother ,tongue    
springs from greed of  vainglory4 ,there
 are many who1 by describing certain    
things in some  other language1 and by  
praising that language1 deem themselves 
to be  more worthy of admiration than if
 they described them in their own4  ,and
 undoubtedly to learn well a foreign    
tongue is deserving of some  praise for 
intellect2 but it is a blameable thing  
to applaud that  language beyond truth1 
to glorify one's self for such an       
acquisition4    ,the fourth springs from
 an invention of envy4 ,so that1 as it  
is said  above1 envy is always where    
there is equality4 ,amongst the men of  
one  nation there is the equality of the
 native tongue2 and because one  knows  
not how to use it like the other1       
therefrom springs envy4 ,the  envious   
man then argues1 not blaming himself for
 not knowing how to  speak like him who 
does speak as he should1 but he blames  
that which  is the material of his work1

 in order to rob1 by depreciating the   
work  on that side1 him who does speak1 
of honour and fame2 like him who  should
 find fault with the blade of a sword1  
not in order to throw  blame on the     
sword1 but on the whole work of the     
master4    ,the fifth and last faction  
springs from vileness of mind4 ,the     
magnanimous man always praises himself  
in his heart2 and so the  pusillanimous 
man1 on the contrary1 always deems      
himself less than he  is4 ,and because  
to magnify and to diminish always have  
respect to  something1 by comparison    
with which the large-minded man makes   
himself  great and the small-minded man 
makes himself small1 it results         
therefrom that the magnanimous man      
always makes others less than they  are1
 and the pusillanimous makes others     
always greater4 ,and therefore  with    
that measure wherewith a man measures   
himself1 he measures his  own things1   
which are as it were a part of himself4 
,it results that to  the magnanimous man

 his own things always appear better    
than they are1  and those of others less
 good2 the pusillanimous man always     
believes  his things to be of little    
value1 and those of others of much      
worth4  ,wherefore many1 on account of  
this vileness of mind1 depreciate their 
native tongue1 and applaud that of      
others2 and all such as these are  the  
abominable wicked men of ,italy who hold
 this precious ,mother  ,tongue in vile 
contempt1 which if it be vile in any    
case1 is so only  inasmuch as it sounds 
in the evil mouth of these adulterers1  
under  whose guidance go those blind men
 of whom ,i spoke in the first          
argument4          ,,chapter ,,xii4     
,if flames of fire should issue visibly 
through the windows of a house1  and if 
any one should ask if there were fire   
within it1 and if another  should answer
 ,yes to him1 one would not well know   
how to judge which  of those might be   
mocking the most4 ,not otherwise would  
the question  and the answer pass       

between me and that man who should ask  
me if love  for my own language is in   
me1 and if ,i should answer ,yes to him1
  after the arguments propounded above4 
,but1 nevertheless1 it has to be proved 
that not only love1 but the  most       
perfect love for it exists in me1 and   
again its adversaries must  be blamed4  
,whilst demonstrating this to him who   
will understand well1  ,i will tell how 
,i became the friend of it1 and then how
 my friendship  is confirmed4    ,i say 
that 7as ,tullius writes in his book on 
,friendship1 not  dissenting from the   
opinion of the ,philosopher opened up in
 the eighth  and in the ninth of the    
,ethics7 ,neighbourhood and ,goodness   
are1  naturally1 the causes of the birth
 of ,love3 ,benevolence1 ,study1 and    
,custom are the causes of the growth of 
,love4 ,and there have been all  these  
causes to produce and to strengthen the 
love which ,i bear to my  ,native       
,language1 as ,i shall briefly          
demonstrate4 ,a thing is so much  the   

nearer in proportion as it is most      
nearly allied to all the other  things  
of its own kind2 wherefore1 of all men  
the son is nearest to  the father1 and  
of all the ,arts1 ,medicine is nearest  
to the ,doctor1  and ,music to the      
,musician1 because they are more allied 
to them than  the others4 ,of all parts 
of the earth the nearest is that whereon
 a  man lives1 because he is most united
 to it4 ,and thus his own ,native       
,language is nearest to him1 inasmuch as
 he is most united to it2 for  it1 and  
it alone1 is first in the mind before   
any other4 ,and not only  of itself is  
it united1 but by accident1 inasmuch as 
it is united with  the persons nearest  
to him1 as his parents1 and his         
fellow-citizens1  and his own people4   
,and this is his own ,mother ,tongue1   
which is not  only nearest1 but         
especially the nearest to each man4     
,therefore1 if  near neighbourhood be   
the seed of friendship1 as is said      
above1 it is  manifest that it has been 

one of the causes of the love which ,i  
bear  to my ,native ,language1 which is 
nearer to me than the others4 ,the      
above-mentioned cause1 whereby that     
alone which stands first in each  mind  
is most bound to it1 gave rise to the   
custom of the people1 that  the         
first-born sons should succeed to the   
inheritance solely as being  the nearest
 relatives2 and because the nearest     
relatives1 therefore  the most beloved4 
,again1 ,goodness made me a friend to   
it4 ,and here it is to be known  that   
all goodness inherent in anything is    
loveable in that thing2 as  in manhood  
to be well bearded1 and in womanhood to 
be all over the  face quite free from   
hair2 as in the setter to have good     
scent1 and as  in the greyhound to be   
swift4 ,and in proportion as it is      
native1 so  much the more is it         
delightful4 ,hence1 although each virtue
 is  loveable in man1 that is the most  
loveable in him which is most human3    
and this is ,justice1 which alone is in 

the rational part1 or rather in  the    
intellectual1 that is1 in the ,will4    
,this is so loveable that as  says the  
,philosopher in the fifth book of the   
,ethics1 its enemies love  it1 such as  
thieves and robbers2 and1 therefore1 we 
see that its  opposite1 that is1        
,injustice1 is especially hated2 such as
 treachery1  ingratitude1 falsehood1    
theft1 rapine1 deceit1 and their like2  
the  which are such inhuman sins1 that1 
in order to excuse himself from the     
infamy of such1 it is granted through   
long custom that a man may speak  of    
himself1 as has been said above1 and may
 say if he be faithful and  loyal4 ,of  
this virtue ,i shall speak hereafter    
more fully in the  fourteenth treatise2 
and here quitting it1 ,i return to the  
proposition4 ,having proved1 then1 that 
the goodness of a thing is  loved the   
more the more it is innate1 the more it 
is to be loved and  commended for       
itself1 it remains to see what that     
goodness is4 ,and we  see that1 in all  

speech1 to express a thought well and   
clearly is the  thing most to be admired
 and commended4 ,this1 then1 is its     
first  goodness4 ,and forasmuch as this 
is in our ,mother ,tongue1 as is made   
evident in another chapter1 it is       
manifest that it has been the cause  of 
the love which ,i bear to it2 since1 as 
has been said1 ,goodness is  the        
producer of ,love4          ,,chapter   
,,xiii4      ,having said how in the    
,mother ,tongue there are those two     
things which  have made me its friend1  
that is1 nearness to me and its innate  
goodness1 ,i will tell how by kindness  
and union in study1 and through  the    
benevolence of long use1 the friendship 
is confirmed and grows4  ,firstly1 ,i   
say that ,i for myself have received    
from it the greatest  benefits4 ,and1   
therefore1 it is to be known that1      
amongst all  benefits1 that is the      
greatest which is most precious to him  
who  receives it2 and nothing is so     
precious as that through which all      

other things are wished2 and all the    
other things are wished for the         
perfection of him who wishes4           
,wherefore1 inasmuch as a man may have  
two perfections1 one first and one      
second 7the first causes him to be1  the
 second causes him to be good71 if the  
,native ,language has been to  me the   
cause of the one and of the other1 ,i   
have received from it the  greatest     
benefit4 ,and that it may have been the 
cause of this  condition in me can be   
shown briefly4 ,the efficient cause for 
the  existence of things is not one     
only1 but among many efficient causes   
one is the chief of the others1 hence   
the fire and the hammer are the         
efficient causes of the sword-blade1    
although the workman is  especially so4 
,this my ,mother ,tongue was the bond of
 union between my  forefathers1 who     
spoke with it1 even as the fire is the  
link between  the iron and the smith who
 makes the knife2 therefore it is       
evident  that it co-operated in my      

birth1 and so it was in some way the    
cause  of my being4 ,again1 this my     
,mother ,tongue was my introducer into  
the  path of knowledge1 which is the    
ultimate perfection1 inasmuch as with   
it ,i entered into the ,latin ,language1
 and with it ,i was taught2 the  which  
,latin was then the way of further      
advancement for me4 ,and so it  is      
evident and known by me that this my    
language has been my great  benefactor4 
,also it has been engaged with me in one
 self-same study1  and this ,i can thus 
prove4 ,each thing naturally studies its
  self-preservation2 hence1 if the      
,mother ,tongue could seek anything of  
itself1 it would seek that2 and that    
would be to secure for itself a         
position of the greatest stability3 but 
greater stability it could not  secure  
than by uniting itself with number and  
with rhyme4    ,and this self-same study
 has been mine1 as is so evident that it
  requires no testimony2 therefore its  
study and mine have been one and  the   

same1 whereby the harmony of friendship 
is confirmed and  increased4 ,also      
between us there has been the           
benevolence of long use3  for from the  
beginning of my life ,i have had with it
 kind fellowship  and conversation1 and 
have used it1 when deliberating1        
interpreting1  and questioning2         
wherefore1 if friendship increases      
through long use1  as in all reason     
appears1 it is manifest that in me it   
has increased  especially1 for with this
 my ,mother ,tongue ,i have spent all my
 time4  ,and thus one sees that to the  
shaping of this friendship there have   
co-operated all causes of birth and     
growth4 ,therefore1 let it be  concluded
 that not only ,love1 but the most      
,perfect ,love1 is that which  ,i have  
for it4 ,so it is1 and ought to be4     
,thus1 casting the eyes backwards and   
gathering up the afore-stated  reasons1 
one can see that this ,bread1 with which
 the ,meat of the  under-written ,poems 
ought to be eaten1 is made clear enough 

of  blemishes1 and of fault in the      
nature of its grain4 ,wherefore1 it is  
time to attend to and serve up the      
viands4    ,this will be that           
barley-bread with which a thousand will 
satisfy  themselves2 and my full baskets
 shall overflow with it4 ,this will be  
that new ,light1 that new ,sun1 which   
shall rise when the sun of this  our day
 shall set1 and shall give light to     
those who are in darkness  and in gloom 
because the sun of this our day gives   
light to them no  more4           99    
99       99       99       99           
,the ,second ,treatise4          ,ye who
 the third ,heaven move1 intent of      
thought1        ,hear reasoning that is 
within my heart1        ,thoughts that  
to none but you ,i can impart3          
,heaven1 that is moved by you1 my life  
has brought        ,to where it stands1 
therefore ,i pray you heed        ,what 
,i shall say about the life ,i lead4    
,to you ,i tell the heart's new cares3  
always        ,the sad ,soul weeps      

within it1 and there hears        ,voice
 of a ,spirit that condemns her tears1  
,a ,spirit that descends in your star's 
rays4        ,thought that once fed the 
grieving heart was sweet1               
,thought that oft fled up to your       
,father's feet4        ,there it beheld 
a ,lady glorified1        ,of whom so   
sweetly it discoursed to me        ,that
 the ,soul said1 ,with her ,i long to   
be6      ,now ,one appears that drives  
the thought aside1        ,and masters  
me with so effectual might        ,that 
my heart quivers to the outward sight4  
,this on a ,lady fixes my regard        
,and says1 ,who seeks where his         
salvation lies        ,must gaze        
intently in this ,lady's eyes1      ,nor
 dread the sighs of anguish6 ,o1        
ill-starred6        ,such opposite now  
breaks the humble dream        ,of the  
crowned angel in the glory beam4        
,still1 therefore1 the ,soul weeps1 ,the
 tender stir1        ,it says1 of       
thought that once consoled me flies6    

,that troubled one asks1 ,when into     
thine eyes      ,looked she8 ,why       
doubted they my words of her8        ,i 
said1 ,her eyes bear death to such as   
,i3        ,yet1 vainly warned1 ,i gaze 
on her and die4        ,thou art not    
dead1 but in a vain dismay1        ,dear
 ,soul of ours so lost in thy distress1 
,whispers a spirit voice of tenderness4 
,this ,lady's beauty darkens all your   
day1        ,vile fear possesses you2   
see1 she is lowly        ,pitiful1      
courteous1 though so wise and holy4     
,think thou to call her ,mistress       
evermore3        ,save thou delude      
thyself1 then shall there shine         
,high miracles before thee1 so divine   
,that thou shalt say1 ,o ,love1 when ,i 
adore1        ,true ,lord1 behold the   
handmaid of the ,lord1        ,be it    
unto me according to thy ,word6         
,my song1 ,i do believe there will be   
few        ,who toil to understand thy  
reasoning2        ,but if thou pass1    
perchance1 to those who bring      ,no  

skill to give thee the attention due1   
,then pray ,i1 dear last-born1 let them 
rejoice        ,to find at least a music
 in my voice4          ,,chapter ,i4    
,since ,i1 the servant1 with preliminary
 discourse in the preceding  ,treatise1 
have with all due care prepared my      
bread1 the time now  summons1 and       
requires my ship to leave the port3     
wherefore1 having  trimmed the          
mizen-mast of reason to the wind of my  
desire1 ,i enter the  ocean with the    
hope of an easy voyage1 and a healthful 
happy haven to  be reached at the end of
 my supper4 ,but in order that my food  
may be  more profitable1 before the     
first dish comes on the table ,i wish to
  show how it ought to be eaten4 ,i say 
then1 as is narrated in the first       
chapter1 that this exposition must be   
,literal and ,allegorical2 and to  make 
this explicit one should know that it is
 possible to understand a  book in four 
different ways1 and that it ought to be 
explained chiefly  in this manner4      

,the one is termed ,literal1 and this is
 that which does not extend  beyond the 
text itself1 such as is the fit         
narration of that thing  whereof you are
 discoursing1 an appropriate example of 
which is the  third ,song1 which        
discourses of ,nobility4    ,another is 
termed ,allegorical1 and it is that     
which is concealed under  the veil of   
fables1 and is a ,truth concealed under 
a beautiful  ,untruth2 as when ,ovid    
says that ,orpheus with his lute made   
the wild  beasts tame1 and made the     
trees and the stones to follow him1     
which  signifies that the wise man with 
the instrument of his voice makes  cruel
 hearts gentle and humble1 and makes    
those follow his will who  have not the 
living force of knowledge and of art2   
who1 having not the  reasoning life of  
any knowledge whatever1 are as the      
stones4 ,and in  order that this hidden 
thing should be discovered by the wise1 
it will  be demonstrated in the last    
,treatise4 ,verily the theologians take 

this  meaning otherwise than do the     
poets3 but1 because my intention here is
  to follow the way of the poets1 ,i    
shall take the ,allegorical sense       
according as it is used by the poets4   
,the third sense is termed ,moral2 and  
this is that which the readers  ought   
intently to search for in books1 for    
their own advantage and for  that of    
their descendants2 as one can espy in   
the ,gospel1 when ,christ  ascended the 
,mount for the ,transfiguration1 that1  
of the twelve  ,apostles1 ,he took with 
,him only three4 ,from which one can    
understand  in the ,moral sense that in 
the most secret things we ought to have 
but  little company4    ,the fourth     
sense is termed ,mystical1 that is1     
above sense1  supernatural2 and this it 
is1 when spiritually one expounds a     
writing  which even in the ,literal     
sense by the things signified bears     
express  reference to the ,divine things
 of ,eternal ,glory2 as one can see in  
that ,song of the ,prophet which says   

that by the exodus of the people  of    
,israel from ,egypt ,juda is made holy  
and free4 ,that this happens to  be true
 according to the letter is evident4    
,not less true is that  which it means  
spiritually1 that in the ,soul's        
liberation from ,sin 7or  in the exodus 
of the ,soul from ,sin7 it is made holy 
and free in its  powers4    ,but in     
demonstrating these1 the ,literal must  
always go first1 as that  in whose sense
 the others are included1 and without   
which it would be  impossible and       
irrational to understand the others4    
,especially is it  impossible in the    
,allegorical1 because1 in each thing    
which has a  within and a without1 it is
 impossible to come to the within if you
 do  not first come to the without4     
,wherefore1 since in books the ,literal 
meaning is always external1 it is       
impossible to reach the others1         
especially the ,allegorical1 without    
first coming to the ,literal4  ,again1  
it is impossible1 because in each thing1

 natural and  artificial1 it is         
impossible to proceed to the form       
without having  first laid down the     
matter upon which the form should be4   
,thus1 it is  impossible for the form of
 the gold to come1 if the matter1 that  
is1  its subject1 is not first laid down
 and prepared2 or for the form of  the  
ark to come1 if the material1 that is1  
the wood1 be not first laid  down and   
prepared4 ,therefore1 since the ,literal
 meaning is always the  subject and the 
matter of the others1 especially of the 
,allegorical1  it is impossible to come 
first to the meaning of the others      
before  coming to it4 ,again1 it is     
impossible1 because in each thing1      
natural  and artificial1 it is          
impossible to proceed unless the        
foundation be  first laid1 as in the    
house1 so also in the mind4 ,therefore1 
since  demonstration must be the        
building up of ,knowledge1 and ,literal 
demonstration must be the foundation of 
the other methods of  interpreting1     

especially of the ,allegorical1 it is   
impossible to come  first to the others 
before coming to that4 ,again1 if it    
were possible  that it could be so      
ordered1 it would be irrational1 that   
is1 out of  order2 and1 therefore1 one  
would proceed with1 much fatigue and    
with  much error4 ,hence1 as the        
,philosopher says in the first book of  
the  ,physics1 ,nature desires that we  
proceed in due order in our search for  
knowledge1 that is1 by proceeding from  
that which we know well to that  which  
we know not so well2 so ,i say that     
,nature desires it1 inasmuch  as this   
way to knowledge is innate in us2 and   
therefore1 if the other  meanings1 apart
 from the ,literal1 are less            
understood--which they are1  as         
evidently appears--it would be          
irrational to demonstrate them if  the  
,literal had not first been             
demonstrated4    ,i1 then1 for these    
reasons will discourse in due order of  
each ,song1  firstly upon its ,literal  

meaning1 and after that ,i will         
discourse of  its ,allegory1 that is1   
the hidden ,truth1 and sometimes ,i will
 touch  incidentally on the other       
meanings as may be convenient to place  
and  time4          ,,chapter ,,ii4     
,beginning1 then1 ,i say that the star  
of ,venus had twice revolved in  that   
circle which causes the evening and the 
morning to appear1  according to the two
 varying seasons1 since the death of    
that blessed  ,beatrice1 who lives in   
,heaven with the ,angels1 and on ,earth 
with my  soul2 when that gentle ,lady1  
of whom ,i made mention at the end of   
the  ,vita ,nuova1 first appeared before
 my eyes1 accompanied by ,love1 and     
assumed a position in my mind4 ,and1 as 
has been stated by me in the  little    
book referred to1 more because of her   
gentle goodness than from  choice of    
mine1 it befell that ,i consented to be 
her servant4 ,for she  appeared         
impassioned with such sorrow for my sad 
widowed life that the  spirits of my    

eyes became especially friendly to her2 
and1 so  disposed1 they then depicted   
her to be such that my good-will was    
content to espouse itself to that image4
 ,but because ,love is not born         
suddenly1 nor grows great nor comes to  
perfection in haste1 but  desires time  
and food for thought1 especially there  
where there are  antagonistic thoughts  
which impede it1 there must needs be1   
before  this new ,love could be perfect1
 a great battle between the thought of  
its food and of that which was          
antagonistic to it1 which still held    
the fortress of my mind for that        
glorious ,beatrice4 ,for the one was    
succoured on one side continually by the
 ever-present vision1 and the  other on 
the opposite side by the memory of the  
past4 ,and the help of  the ever-present
 sight increased each day1 which memory 
could not do1  in opposing that which to
 a certain degree prevented me from     
turning  the face towards the past4     
,wherefore it seemed to me so wonderful1

 and  also so hard to endure1 that ,i   
could not support it1 and with a loud   
cry 7to excuse myself from the struggle1
 in which it seemed to me that  ,i had  
failed in courage7 ,i lifted up my voice
 towards that part whence  came the     
victory of the new thought1 which was   
full of virtuous power1  even the power 
of celestial virtue2 and ,i began to    
say3 ,you6 who the  third ,heaven move1 
intent of thought4 ,for the intelligent 
understanding of which ,song1 one must  
first know its divisions well1  so that 
it will then be easy to perceive its    
meaning4    ,in order that it may no    
longer be necessary to preface the      
explanations of the others1 ,i say that 
the order which will be taken  in this  
,treatise ,i intend to keep through all 
the others4 ,i say1 then1  that the     
proposed ,song is contained within three
 principal parts4 ,the  first is the    
first verse of that1 in which certain   
,intelligences are  induced to listen to
 what ,i intend to say1 or rather by a  

more usual  form of speech we should    
call them ,angels1 who are in the       
revolution  of the ,heaven of ,venus1 as
 the movers thereof4 ,the second is in  
the  lines which follow after the first1
 in which is made manifest that  which  
,i felt spiritually amidst various      
thoughts4 ,the third is in the  last    
lines1 wherein the man begins to speak  
to the work itself1 as if  to comfort   
it1 as it were1 and all these three     
parts are in due order  to be           
demonstrated1 as has been said above4   
,,chapter ,,iii4      ,that we may more 
easily perceive the ,literal meaning of 
the first  division1 to which we now    
attend1 it is requisite to know who and 
what  are those who are summoned to my  
audience1 and what is that third        
,heaven which ,i say is moved by them4  
,and firstly ,i will speak of the       
,heaven2 then ,i will speak of those    
whom ,i address ,and although with      
regard to the truth concerning those    
things it is possible to know but       

little1 yet so much as human reason can 
discern gives more delight  than the    
best known and most certain of the      
things judged by the  sense2 according  
to the opinion of the ,philosopher in   
his book on  ,animals4    ,i say1 then1 
that concerning the number of the       
,heavens and their site1  different     
opinions are held by many1 although the 
truth at last may be  found4 ,aristotle 
believed1 following merely the ancient  
foolishness of  the ,astrologers1 that  
there might be only eight ,heavens1 of  
which the  last one1 and which contained
 all1 might be that where the fixed     
stars  are1 that is1 the eighth sphere1 
and that beyond it there could be no    
other4 ,again1 he believed that the     
,heaven of the ,sun might be  immediate 
with that of the ,moon1 that is1 second 
to us4 ,and this  opinion of his1 so    
erroneous1 he who wishes can see in the 
second book  on ,heaven and the ,world1 
which is in the second of the ,books on 
,natural ,history4 ,in fact1 he excuses 

himself for this in the twelfth  book of
 the ,metaphysics1 where he clearly     
proves himself to have  followed also   
another opinion where he was obliged to 
speak of  ,astrology4 ,ptolemy1 then1   
perceiving that the eighth sphere is    
moved  by many movements1 seeing its    
circle to depart from the right circle1 
which turns from ,east to ,west1        
constrained by the principles of        
,philosophy1 which of necessity desires 
a ,primum ,mobile1 a most simple  one1  
supposed another ,heaven to be outside  
the ,heaven of the fixed  stars1 which  
might make that revolution from ,east to
 ,west which ,i say  is completed in    
twenty-four hours nearly1 that is1 in   
twenty-three  hours1 fourteen parts of  
the fifteen of another1 counting        
roughly4  ,therefore1 according to him1 
and according to that which is held in  
,astrology and in ,philosophy since     
those movements were seen1 there are    
nine moveable ,heavens2 the site of     
which is evident and determined1        

according to an ,art which is termed    
,perspective1 ,arithmetical and         
,geometrical1 by which and by other     
sensible experiences it is visibly  and 
reasonably seen1 as in the eclipses of  
the ,sun it appears  sensibly1 that the 
,moon is below the ,sun2 and as by the  
testimony of  ,aristotle1 who saw with  
his own eyes1 according to what he says 
in the  second book on ,heaven and the  
,world1 the ,moon1 being new1 to enter  
below ,mars1 on the side not shining1   
and ,mars to remain concealed so  long  
that he re-appeared on the other bright 
side of the ,moon1 which  was towards   
the ,west4          ,,chapter ,,iv4     
,and the order of the houses is this1   
that the first that they  enumerate is  
that where the ,moon is2 the second is  
that where ,mercury  is2 the third is   
that where ,venus is2 the fourth is that
 where the ,sun  is2 the fifth is that  
where ,mars is2 the sixth is that where 
,jupiter  is2 the seventh is that where 
,saturn is2 the eighth is that of the   

,stars2 the ninth is that which is not  
visible except by that movement  which  
is mentioned above1 which they designate
 the great ,crystalline  sphere1        
diaphanous1 or rather all transparent4  
,truly1 beyond all  these1 the          
,catholics place the ,empyrean ,heaven1 
which is as much as to  say1 the ,heaven
 of ,flame1 or rather the ,luminous     
,heaven2 and they  assign it to be      
immoveable1 in order to have in itself1 
according to  each part1 that which its 
material desires4 ,and this is why that 
first  moved--the ,primum ,mobile--has  
such extremely rapid motion4 ,for1      
because of the most fervent appetite    
which each part of it has to be  united 
with each part of that most ,divine     
,heaven of ,peace1 in which it  revolves
 with so much desire1 its velocity is   
almost incomprehensible4  ,and this     
quiet and peaceful ,heaven is the place 
of that ,supreme ,deity  who from above 
beholds the whole4 ,this is the place of
 the blessed  ,spirits1 according as    

,holy ,church teaches1 which cannot     
speak falsely2  and even ,aristotle     
seems to feel this1 to him who          
understands him  well1 in the first book
 of ,heaven and the ,world4 ,this is the
 highest  bound of the ,world1 within   
which the whole ,world is included1 and 
beyond which there is nothing4 ,and it  
is in no place1 but was formed  alone in
 the ,first ,mind1 which the ,greeks    
term ,protonoe4 ,this is that           
magnificence of which the ,psalmist     
spoke when he sang to ,god3 ,thy  glory 
is raised above the ,heavens4    ,so1   
then1 gathering together this which is  
discussed1 it seems that  there may be  
ten ,heavens1 of which the ,heaven of   
,venus may be the  third2 whereof       
mention is made in that part which ,i   
intend to  demonstrate4 ,and it is to be
 known that each ,heaven below the      
,crystalline has two firm poles as to   
itself2 and the ninth has them  firm and
 fixed1 and not mutable in any respect4 
,and each one1 the  ninth even as the   

others1 has a circle1 which one may term
 the equator  of its own ,heaven2 which 
equally1 in each part of its revolution1
 is  remote from one pole and from the  
other1 as he who rolls an apple or  any 
other round thing can sensibly perceive4
 ,and this circle has more  swiftness in
 its movement than any other part of its
 ,heaven1 in each  ,heaven1 as he may   
perceive who considers well4 ,and each  
part1 in  proportion as it is nearer to 
it1 moves so much the more swiftly2 so  
much the slower in proportion as it is  
more remote and nearer to the  pole2    
since its revolution is less1 and it    
must of necessity be in one  self-same  
time with the greater4 ,i say again1    
that in proportion as  the ,heaven is   
nearer to the equatorial circle1 so much
 the more noble  is it in comparison to 
its poles2 since it has more motion and 
more  actuality and more life and more  
form and more touch from that which  is 
above itself1 and consequently has more 
virtue4 ,hence the stars in  the ,heaven

 of the fixed stars are more full of    
power amongst  themselves in proportion 
as they are nearer to that circle4      
,and upon the back of this circle in the
 ,heaven of ,venus1 of which ,i  now    
speak1 is a little sphere1 which        
revolves by itself in this  ,heaven1 the
 circle of which ,astrologers call      
,epicycle2 and as the  great sphere     
revolves about two poles1 so does this  
little sphere3 and  so has this little  
sphere the equatorial circle2 and so    
much the more  noble it is in proportion
 as it is nearer to those3 and in the   
arc1 or  rather back1 of this circle is 
fixed the most brilliant star of ,venus4
  ,and1 although it may be said that    
there are ten ,heavens according to     
strict ,truth1 this number does not     
comprehend them all3 for that of  which 
mention is made1 the ,epicycle1 in which
 the star is fixed1 is a  ,heaven by    
itself1 or rather sphere2 and it has not
 one essence with  that which bears it1 
although it may be more like to it than 

to the  others1 and with it is called   
one ,heaven1 and they name the one and  
the other from the star4 ,how the other 
,heavens and the other stars may  be is 
not for present discussion2 let it      
suffice that the nature of  the third   
,heaven1 with which ,i am at present    
concerned1 has been told1  and          
concerning which all that is at present 
needful has been shown4                 
,,chapter ,v4      ,since it has been   
shown in the preceding chapter what this
 third  ,heaven is1 and how it is       
ordered in itself1 it remains to show   
who  those are who move it4 ,it is then 
to be known1 in the first place1  that  
the movers thereof are substances apart 
from material1 that is1  ,intelligences1
 which the common people term ,angels3  
and of these  creatures1 as of the      
,heavens1 different persons have had    
different  ideas1 although the truth may
 be found4 ,there were certain          
,philosophers1 of whom ,aristotle       
appears to be one in his ,metaphysics1  

although in the first book on ,heaven   
and ,earth incidentally he appears  to  
think otherwise1 who only believed these
 to be so many as there are  revolutions
 in the ,heavens1 and no more2 saying1  
that the others would  have been        
eternally in vain1 without operation1   
which was impossible1  inasmuch as their
 being is their operation4 ,there were  
others1 like  ,plato1 a most excellent  
man1 who place not only so many         
,intelligences  as there are movements  
in ,heaven1 but even as there are       
species of  things1 that is1 manners of 
things2 as of one species are all       
mankind1  and of another all the gold1  
and of another all the silver1 and so   
with all3 and they are of opinion that  
as the ,intelligences of the  ,heavens  
are generators of those movements each  
after his kind1 so  these were          
generators of the other things1 each one
 being a type of  its species3 and      
,plato calls them ,ideas1 which is as   
much as to  say1 so many universal forms

 and natures4    ,the ,gentiles called  
them ,gods and ,goddesses1 although they
 could not  understand those so         
philosophically as ,plato did2 and they 
adored  their images1 and built large   
temples to them1 as to ,juno1 whom they 
called the ,goddess of ,power2 as to    
,vulcan1 whom they called the ,god of   
,fire2 as to ,pallas1 or rather         
,minerva1 whom they called the ,goddess 
of  ,wisdom2 and to ,ceres1 whom they   
called the ,goddess of ,corn4 ,opinions 
such as these the testimony of the      
,poets makes manifest1 for they         
describe to a certain extent the mode of
 the ,gentiles both in their  sacrifices
 and in their faith2 and it is testified
 also in many names1  remains of        
antiquity1 or in names of places and    
ancient buildings1 as  he who will can  
easily find4 ,and although these        
opinions above  mentioned might be built
 upon a good foundation by human reason 
and by  no slight knowledge1 yet the    
,truth was not seen by them1 either from

  defect of reason or from defect of    
instruction4 ,yet even by reason it  was
 possible to see that very numerous were
 the creatures above  mentioned who are 
not such as men can understand4 ,and the
 one reason  is this3 no one doubts1    
neither ,philosopher1 nor ,gentile1 nor 
,jew1 nor  ,christian1 nor any one of   
any sect1 that they are either the whole
 or  the greater part full of all       
,blessedness1 and that those blessed    
ones  are in a most perfect state4      
,therefore1 since that which is here    
,human  ,nature may have not only one   
,beatitude1 but two ,beatitudes1 as that
 of  the ,civil ,life and that of the   
,contemplative1 it would be irrational  
if we should see these ,celestial       
,beings to have the ,beatitude of the   
,active ,life1 that is1 the ,civil1 in  
the government of the ,world1 and  not  
to have that of the ,contemplative1     
which is the most excellent and  most   
,divine4    ,but since that which has   
the ,beatitude of the ,civil government 

cannot  have the other1 because their   
intellect is one and perpetual1 there   
must be others beyond this ministry1 who
 live only in contemplation4  ,and      
because this latter life is more        
,divine--and in proportion as the  thing
 is more ,divine so much the more is it 
in the image of ,god--it is  evident    
that this life is more beloved of ,god3 
and if it be more  beloved1 so much the 
more vast has its ,beatitude been2 and  
if it has  been more vast1 so much the  
more vivifying power has ,he given to it
  rather than to the other2 therefore   
one concludes that there may ,de a  much
 larger number of those creatures than  
the effects tend to show4  ,and this is 
not opposed to that which ,aristotle    
seems to state in the  tenth book of the
 ,ethics1 that to the separate          
substances the  ,contemplative ,life    
must be requisite2 as also the ,active  
,life must be  imperative to them4      
,nevertheless1 in the contemplation of  
certain  truths the revolution of the   

,heaven follows1 which is the government
  of the ,world2 which is1 as it were1 a
 ,civil government ordained and         
comprehended in the contemplation of the
 movers1 that is1 the ruling            
,intelligences4 ,the other reason is1   
that no effect is greater than the      
cause1 because the cause cannot give    
that which it has not2 wherefore1  since
 the ,divine ,intellect is the cause of 
all1 especially of the  ,human          
,intellect1 it follows that the ,human  
,intellect does not dominate  the       
,divine1 but is dominated by it in      
proportion to the superior power  of the
 ,divine4 ,hence1 if we1 by the reason  
above stated1 and by many  others1      
understand ,god to have been able to    
create ,spiritual ,creatures  almost    
innumerable1 it is quite evident that   
,he has made them in this  great number4
 ,many other reasons it were possible to
 see3 but let  these suffice for the    
present4 ,nor let any one marvel if     
these and  other reasons which we could 

adduce concerning this are not fully    
demonstrated2 since likewise we ought to
 wonder at their excellence1  which     
overpowers the eyes of the ,human ,mind1
 as the ,philosopher says  in the second
 book of the ,metaphysics1 and he       
affirms their existence4  ,though we    
have not any perception of them from    
which our knowledge can  begin1 yet some
 light from their most vivacious essence
 shines upon  our intellect1 inasmuch as
 we perceive the above-mentioned reasons
 and  many others1 even as he who has   
the eyes closed affirms the air to be   
luminous1 because of some little        
brightness or ray of light which  passes
 through the pupils2 as it is with the  
bat1 for not otherwise  are the eyes of 
the intellect closed1 so long as the    
soul is bound and  prisoned by the      
organs of our body4          ,,chapter  
,,vi4      ,it has been said that1      
through defective instruction1 the      
ancients saw  not the ,truth concerning 
the ,spiritual ,creatures1 although the 

people  of ,israel were in part         
instructed by their ,prophets1 through  
whom by  many modes of speech and in    
many ways ,god had spoken to them1 as   
the  ,apostle says4 ,but we are therein 
instructed by ,him who came from ,god1  
by ,him who made them1 by ,him who      
preserves them1 that is1 by the         
,emperor of the ,universe1 who is       
,christ the ,son of the ,supreme ,god1  
and  the ,son of the ,virgin ,mary1 a   
woman truly1 and the daughter of ,joseph
  and ,anna--very ,man1 who was slain by
 us in order that ,he might bring  us   
,life2 who was the ,light which         
enlightens us in the ,darkness1 even  as
 ,john the ,evangelist says2 and ,he    
told us the ,truth of those things      
which we could not have known without   
,him1 nor seen truly4 ,the first  thing 
and the first secret which ,he showed us
 was one of the  before-mentioned       
,beings or creatures4 ,this was that    
one1 ,his great  ,legate1 the ,angel    
,gabriel1 who came to ,mary1 a young    

damsel of  thirteen years1 on the part  
of the ,heavenly ,saviour4 ,this our    
,saviour1  with ,his own mouth1 said1   
that the ,father could give ,him many   
,legions  of ,angels4 ,this ,he denied  
not1 when it was said to ,him that the  
,father  had commanded ,his ,angels that
 they should minister unto ,him and     
should  serve ,him4 ,wherefore1 it is   
evident to us that these creatures are  
in  a very great number2 since ,his     
,spouse and ,secretary1 ,holy ,church1  
of  whom ,solomon says3 ,who is this    
that cometh forth from the ,desert1     
full of those things which give delight1
 leaning upon her friend8  says1        
believes1 and preaches these most noble 
creatures to be almost  innumerable2 and
 ,she divides them into three           
,hierarchies1 that is to  say1 three    
holy1 or rather ,divine1                
,principalities3 and each ,hierarchy    
has three orders1 so that nine orders of
 spiritual creatures the  ,church holds 
and affirms4    ,the first is that of   

the ,angels1 the second of the          
,archangels1 the  third of the ,thrones2
 and these three orders make the first  
,hierarchy--not first as to nobility1   
nor as to creation1 for the  others are 
more noble1 and all were created        
together1 but first in  degree1         
according to our perception of their    
exaltation4    ,then there are the      
,dominations2 after them the ,virtues2  
then the  ,principalities2 and these    
make the second ,hierarchy4    ,above   
these are the ,powers and the ,cherubim1
 and above all are the  ,seraphim2 and  
these make the third ,hierarchy4    ,and
 the most potent reason for their       
contemplation is the number in  which   
the ,hierarchies are1 and that in which 
the orders are4 ,for1  since the ,divine
 ,majesty is in ,three ,persons1 which  
have one  substance1 it is possible to  
contemplate them triply4 ,for it is     
possible to contemplate the ,supreme    
,power of the ,father1 which the  first 
,hierarchy gazes upon1 namely1 that     

which is first by nobility1  and which  
we enumerate last4 ,and it is possible  
to contemplate the  ,supreme ,wisdom of 
the ,son2 and upon this the second      
,hierarchy gazes4  ,and it is possible  
to contemplate the ,supreme and most    
fervent ,charity  of the ,holy ,spirit2 
and upon this the third ,hierarchy      
gazes1 which1  being nearest to us1     
gives of the gifts which it receives4   
,and1 since it is possible to regard    
each person in the ,divine ,trinity     
triply1 so in each ,hierarchy there are 
three orders which contemplate          
diversely4 ,it is possible to consider  
the ,father having regard to none  but  
,him2 and this is the contemplation of  
the ,seraphim1 who see more  of the     
,first ,cause than any other ,angelic   
,nature4 ,it is possible to  consider   
the ,father according as ,he has        
relation to the ,son1 that is1  how ,he 
is apart from ,him1 and how united with 
,him2 and this is the  contemplation of 
the ,cherubim4 ,it is possible again to 

consider the  ,father according as from 
,him proceeds the ,holy ,spirit1 and how
 it is  apart from ,him and how united  
with ,him2 and this is the contemplation
  of the ,powers4    ,and in like way it
 is possible to contemplate the ,son and
 the ,holy  ,spirit4    ,wherefore1     
there must be nine orders of            
contemplative ,spirits to gaze  into the
 ,light1 which alone beholds itself     
completely4 ,and this is not  the place 
to be silent so much as one word4 ,i    
say1 that of all these  orders some were
 lost as soon as they were created1     
perhaps in number  of the tenth part1 to
 restore which ,human ,nature was       
created4 ,the  numbers1 the orders1 the 
,hierarchies1 declare the glory of the  
movable  ,heavens1 which are nine2 and  
the tenth announces this ,unity and     
stability of ,god4 ,and therefore the   
,psalmist says3 ,the ,heavens  declare  
the glory of ,god1 and the ,firmament   
showeth ,his handiwork4  ,wherefore it  
is reasonable to believe that the movers

 of the ,heaven of  the ,moon are of the
 order of the ,angels1 and those of     
,mercury may be  the ,archangels1 and   
those of ,venus may be the ,thrones1 in 
whom the  ,love of the ,holy ,spirit    
being innate1 they do their work        
conformably  to it1 which means that the
 revolution of that ,heaven is full of  
,love4  ,the form of the said ,heaven   
takes from this a virtue by whose glow  
souls here below are kindled to love    
according to their disposition4    ,and 
because the ancients perceived that     
,heaven to be here below the  cause of  
,love1 they said that ,love was the son 
of ,venus1 as ,virgil  testifies in the 
first book of the neid1 where ,venus    
says to ,love3  ,oh6 son1 my virtue1 son
 of the great ,father1 who takest no    
heed of  the darts of ,typhoeus4 ,and   
,ovid so testifies in the fifth book of 
his ,metamorphoses1 when he says that   
,venus said to ,love3 ,son1 my  arms1 my
 power4 ,and there are ,thrones which   
are ordered to the  government of this  

,heaven in number not great1 concerning 
which the  ,philosophers and the        
,astrologers have thought differently1  
according  as they held different       
opinions concerning its revolutions4    
,but all  may be agreed1 as many are1 in
 this1 as to how many movements it      
makes4 ,of this1 as abbreviated in the  
book of the ,aggregation of the  ,stars1
 you may find in the better             
demonstration of the ,astrologers  that 
there are three3 one1 according as the  
star moves towards its  ,epicycle2 the  
other1 according as the ,epicycle moves 
with its whole  ,heaven equally with    
that of the ,sun2 the third1 according  
as the whole  of that ,heaven moves1    
following the movement of the starry    
sphere from  ,west to ,east in one      
hundred years one degree4 ,so that to   
these ,three  ,movements there are      
,three ,movers4 ,again1 if the whole of 
this ,heaven  moves and turns with the  
,epicycle from ,east to ,west once in   
each  natural day1 that movement1       

whether it be caused by some            
,intelligence  or whether it be through 
the rapid movement of the ,primum       
,mobile1 ,god  knows1 for to me it seems
 presumptuous to judge4 ,these ,movers  
produce1  caring for that alone1 the    
revolution proper to that sphere which  
each  one moves4 ,the most noble form of
 the ,heaven1 which has in itself the   
principle of this passive ,nature1      
revolves1 touched by the ,moving        
,power1 which cares for this2 and ,i say
 touched1 not by a bodily touch1  but by
 a ,power which directs itself to that  
operation4 ,and these  ,movers are those
 to whom ,i begin to speak and to whom  
,i put my  inquiry4          ,,chapter  
,,vii4      ,according to that which is 
said above in the third chapter of this 
treatise1 in order to understand well   
the first part of the ,song ,i  comment 
on1 it is requisite to discourse of     
those ,heavens1 and of  their ,movers2  
and in the three preceding chapters this
 has been  discussed4 ,i say1 then1 to  

those whom ,i proved to be ,movers of   
the  ,heaven of ,venus3 ,ye who1 with   
thought intent 7i4e41 with the          
intellect alone1 as is said above71 the 
third ,heaven move1 ,hear  reasoning    
that is within my heart2 and ,i do not  
say ,hear because  they hear any sound1 
for they have no sense of hearing2 but  
,i say  ,hear1 meaning with that hearing
 which they have1 which is of the       
understanding through the intellect4 ,i 
say1 ,hear reasoning that is  within my 
heart1 within me1 which as yet has not  
appeared externally4  ,it is to be known
 that throughout this ,song1 according  
to the one  sense 7the ,literal71 and   
the other sense 7the ,allegorical71 the 
,heart  is concerned with the secret    
within1 and not any other special part  
of  the soul or body4 ,when ,i have     
called them to hear that which ,i wish  
to  say1 ,i assign two reasons why ,i   
ought fitly to speak to them4 ,one is   
the novelty of my condition1 which1 from
 not having been experienced  by other  

men1 would not be so understood by them 
as by those who  superintend such       
effects in their operation4 ,and this   
reason ,i touch  upon when ,i say3 ,to  
you alone its new thoughts ,i impart4   
,the other  reason is3 when a man       
receives a benefit or injury1 he ought  
first to  relate it to him who bestows  
or inflicts it1 if he can1 rather than  
to  others2 in order that1 if it be a   
benefit1 he who receives it may show    
himself grateful towards the benefactor1
 and1 if it be an injury1 let  him lead 
the doer thereof to gentle mercy with   
sweet words4 ,and this  reason ,i touch 
upon when ,i say3 ,heaven1 that is moved
 by you1 my life  has brought ,to where 
it stands2 that is to say1 your         
operation1  namely1 your revolution1 is 
that which has drawn me into the present
  condition2 therefore ,i conclude and  
say that my speech ought to be to  them1
 such as is said2 and ,i say here3      
,therefore to you 'tis need  ,that ,i   
should speak about the life ,i lead4    

,and after these reasons  assigned1 ,i  
beseech them to listen when ,i speak4   
,but1 because in each manner of speech  
the speaker especially ought to  look to
 persuasion1 that is1 to the pleasing of
 the audience1 as that  which is the    
beginning of all other persuasions1 as  
do the  ,rhetoricians1 and the most     
powerful persuasion to render the       
audience  attentive is to promise to say
 new and wonderful things1 ,i add to the
  prayer made for attention1 this       
persuasion1 or embellishment1           
announcing to them my intention to speak
 of new things1 that is1 the  division  
which is in my mind2 and great things1  
namely1 the power of  their star2 and ,i
 say this in those last words of this   
first part3        ,to you ,i'll tell   
the heart's new cares3 always           
,the sad ,soul weeps within it1 and     
there hears        ,voice of a ,spirit  
that condemns her tears1      ,a ,spirit
 that descends through your star's rays4
    ,and to the full understanding of   

these words1 ,i say that this ,spirit   
is no other than a frequent thought how 
to commend and beautify this  new ,lady4
 ,and this ,soul is no other than       
another thought1 accompanied  with      
acquiescence1 which1 repudiating that   
,spirit1 commends and  beautifies the   
memory of that glorious ,beatrice4 ,but1
 again1 because  the last sentiment of  
the mind1 acquiescence1 is held by that 
thought  which memory assisted1 ,i call 
it the ,soul1 and the other the ,spirit2
  as we are accustomed to call the ,city
 those who hold it1 and not those  who  
fight it1 although the one and the other
 may be citizens4 ,i say  also1 that    
this ,spirit comes on the rays of the   
star1 because one  desires to know that 
the rays of each ,heaven are the way by 
which  their virtue descends into things
 here below4 ,and since the rays are  no
 other than a light which comes from the
 source of ,light through the  air even 
to the thing illuminated1 and the light 
has no source except  the star1 because 

the other ,heaven is transparent1 ,i say
 not that this  ,spirit1 this thought1  
comes from their ,heaven entirely1 but  
from their  star4 ,and their star1      
through the nobility of its ,movers1 is 
of such  virtue that in our souls1 and  
in other things1 it has very great      
power1 notwithstanding that it is so far
 from us1 about one hundred  and        
sixty-seven times farther than it is to 
the centre of the ,earth1  which is     
three thousand two hundred and fifty    
miles4 ,and this is the  ,literal       
exposition of the first part of the     
,song4          ,,chapter ,,viii4       
,what ,i have said shows clearly enough 
the ,literal meaning of the first  part4
 ,in the second1 there is to be         
understood how it makes manifest  what  
,i experienced from the struggle within 
me2 and this part has two  divisions4   
,in the first place it describes the    
quality of these  oppositions1 according
 as their cause was within me4 ,then ,i 
narrate  what the one and the other     

voice of opposition said2 and upon that 
firstly which described what was being  
lost1 in the passage which is  the      
second of that part and the third of the
 ,song4 ,in evidence1 then1  of the     
meaning of the first division1 it is to 
be known that things  must be named by  
that part of their form which is the    
noblest and  best1 as ,man by ,reason1  
and not by ,sense1 nor by aught else    
which is  less noble2 therefore1 when   
one speaks of the living man1 one should
  understand the man using ,reason1     
which is his especial ,life1 and is  the
 action of his noblest part4 ,and1      
therefore1 whoso departs from  ,reason  
and uses only the ,senses is not a      
living man1 but a living  beast1 as says
 that most excellent ,boethius1 ,let the
 ,ass live4    ,rightly ,i speak1       
because thought is the right act of     
reason1 wherefore  the beasts who have  
it not do not think2 and ,i speak not   
only of the  lesser beasts1 but of those
 who have a human appearance with the   

spirit of a sheep or of some other      
abominable beast4 ,i say then3  ,thought
 that once fed my grieving              
heart--thought1 that is1 of the  inner  
life--was sweet 7sweet1 insomuch as it  
is persuasive1 that is1  pleasing1 or   
beautiful1 gentle1 delightful72 this    
thought often sped  away to the feet of 
the ,father of those ,spirits to whom ,i
 speak1 that  is1 ,god2 that is to say1 
that ,i in thought contemplated the     
realm of  the ,blessed4 ,thought that   
once fled up to the ,father's feet4 ,and
 ,i  name the final cause immediately1  
because ,i ascended there above in      
thought when ,i say1 ,there ,i beheld a 
,lady glorified1 to let you  understand 
that ,i was certain1 and am certain by  
its gracious  revelation1 that she was  
in ,heaven2 wherefore ,i1 thinking many 
times  how this was possible for me1    
went thither1 rapt1 as it were4 ,then   
subsequently ,i speak of the effect of  
this thought1 in order to let  you      
understand its sweetness1 which was such

 that it made me desirous  of ,death1   
that ,i also might go where she was     
gone4 ,and of this ,i speak  there3 ,of 
whom so sweetly it discoursed to me     
,that the ,soul said1  ',with her would 
,i might be6' ,and this is the root of  
one of the  struggles which was in me4  
,and it is to be known that here one    
terms  ,thought1 and not ,soul1 that    
which ascended to see that ,blessed     
,spirit1  because it was an especial    
thought sent on that mission2 the ,soul 
is  understood1 as is stated in the     
preceding chapter1 as thought in        
general1 with acquiescence4    ,then1   
when ,i say1 ,now ,one appears that     
drives the thought aside1 ,i  touch the 
root of the other struggle1 saying how  
that previous thought  was wont to be   
the life of me1 even as another appears1
 which makes  that one cease to be4 ,i  
say1 drives the thought aside1 in order 
to  show that one to be antagonistic1   
for naturally the opposing one  drives  
aside the other1 and that which is      

driven appears to yield  through want of
 power4 ,and ,i say that this thought1  
which newly  appears1 is powerful in    
taking hold of me and in subduing my    
,soul1  saying that it masters me with  
such effectual might that the heart1    
that is1 my inner life1 trembles so much
 that my countenance shows it  in some  
new appearance4    ,subsequently ,i show
 the power of this new thought by its   
effect1  saying that it makes me fix my 
regard on a ,lady1 and speaks to me     
words of allurement1 that is to say1 it 
reasons before the eyes of my           
intelligent affection1 in order the     
better to induce me1 promising me  that 
the sight of her eyes is its salvation4 
,and in order to make this  credible to 
the ,soul experienced in love1 it says  
that it is for no  one to gaze into the 
eyes of this woman who fears the anguish
 of  laboured sighs4 ,and it is a       
beautiful mode of rhetoric when         
externally  it appears that you         
disembellish a thing1 and yet really    

embellish it  within4 ,this new thought 
of love could not induce my mind to     
consent1  except by discoursing of the  
virtue of the eyes of this fair ,lady so
  profoundly4          ,,chapter ,,ix4  
,now that it is shown how and whereof   
,love is born1 and the antagonist  that 
fought with me1 ,i must proceed to open 
the meaning of that part  in which      
different thoughts contend within me4 ,i
 say that1 firstly1  one must speak on  
the part of the ,soul1 that is1 of the  
former  thought1 and then of the other2 
for this reason1 that always that  which
 the speaker intends most especially to 
say he ought to reserve  in the         
background1 because that which is said  
finally1 remains most in  the mind of   
the hearer4 ,therefore1 since ,i mean to
 speak further1 and  to discourse of    
that which performs the work of those to
 whom ,i speak1  rather than of that    
which undoes this work1 it was          
reasonable first to  mention and to     
discourse of the condition of the part  

which was  undone1 and then of that     
which was generated by the other4       
,but here arises a doubt1 which is not  
to be passed over without  explanation4 
,it would be possible for any one to    
say3 ,since ,love is  the effect of     
these ,intelligences1 to whom ,i speak1 
and that of the  first ,love might be   
the same as that of the new ,love1 why  
should their  virtue destroy the one1   
and produce the other8 since it ought to
  preserve the first1 for the reason    
that each cause loves its effect1  and  
ought to protect what it loves4 ,to this
 question one can easily  reply1 that   
the effect of those ,spirits1 as has    
been said1 is ,love3  and since they    
could not save it except in those who   
are subject to  their revolution1 they  
transfer it from that part which is     
beyond  their power to that which is    
within reach1 from the soul departed out
  of this life1 into that which is yet  
living2 as human nature transfers  in   
the human form its preservation of the  

father to the son1 because  it cannot in
 this father preserve perpetually its   
effect3 ,i say effect  in as far as soul
 and body are united1 and not effect in 
as far as  that soul1 which is divided  
from the body1 lasts for ever1 in a     
nature  more than human4 ,and thus is   
the question solved4    ,but since the  
immortality of the ,soul is here touched
 upon1 ,i will  make a digression upon  
that2 because to discourse of that will 
make a  fit conclusion to the mention ,i
 have made of that living and blessed   
,beatrice1 of whom ,i do not intend to  
speak further in this book4    ,for     
proposition ,i say that1 amongst all the
 bestialities1 that is the  most        
foolish1 the most vile1 and most        
damnable which believes no other  life  
to be after this life2 wherefore1 if we 
turn over all books1  whether of        
philosophers or of the other wise       
writers1 all agree in  this1 that in us 
there is some everlasting principle4    
,and this  especially ,aristotle seems  

to desire in that book on the ,soul2    
this  especially each stoic seems to    
desire2 this ,tullius seems to desire1  
especially in that book on ,old ,age4   
,this each of the ,poets who have       
spoken according to the faith of the    
,gentiles seems to desire2 this  the law
 seems to desire1 among ,jews1          
,saracens1 and ,tartars1 and all  other 
people who live according to some civil 
law4 ,and if all these  could be        
deceived1 there would result an         
impossibility which even to  describe   
would be horrible4 ,each man is certain 
that human nature is  the most perfect  
of all natures here below4 ,this no one 
denies3 and  ,aristotle affirms it when 
he says1 in the twelfth book ,on        
,animals1  that man is the most perfect 
of all the animals4 ,therefore1 since   
many  who live are entirely mortal1 as  
are the brute animals1 and all may  be1 
whilst they live1 without that hope of  
the other life2 if our hope  should be  
in vain1 our want would be greater than 

that of any other  animal4 ,there have  
been many who have given this life for  
that3 and  thus it would follow that the
 most perfect animal1 man1 would be the 
most imperfect1 which is impossible2 and
 that that part1 namely1  reason1 which 
is his chief perfection1 would be in him
 the cause of  the chief defect3 which  
seems strange to say of the whole4 ,and 
again  it would follow that ,nature1 in 
contradiction to herself1 could have    
put this hope in the human mind2 since  
it is said that many have  hastened to  
death of the body that they might live  
in the other life2  and this also is    
impossible4 ,again1 we have continual   
experience of  our immortality in the   
divination of our dreams1 which could   
not be if  there were no immortal part  
in us1 since immortal must be the       
revelation4 ,this part may be either    
corporeal or incorporeal if one  think  
well and closely4 ,i say corporeal or   
incorporeal1 because of the  different  
opinions which ,i find concerning this4 

,that which is moved1  or rather        
informed1 by an immediate informer1     
ought to have proportion  to the        
informer2 and between the mortal and the
 immortal there is no  proportion4      
,again1 we are assured of it by the most
 truthful doctrine  of ,christ1 which is
 the ,way1 the ,truth1 and the ,light3  
the ,way1  because by it without        
impediment we go to the happiness of    
that  immortality2 the ,truth1 because  
it endures no error2 the ,light1        
because it enlightens us in the darkness
 of worldly ignorance4 ,this  doctrine1 
,i say1 which above all other reasons   
makes us certain of it2  for it has been
 given to us by ,him who sees and       
measures our  immortality1 which we     
cannot perfectly see whilst our immortal
 is  mingled with the mortal4 ,but we   
see it by faith perfectly2 and by       
reason we see it with the cloud of      
obscurity which grows from the  mixture 
of the mortal with the immortal4 ,this  
ought to be the most  powerful argument 

that both are in us3 and ,i thus        
believe1 thus  affirm2 and ,i am equally
 certain1 after this life1 to pass to   
that  other and better life--there where
 that glorious ,lady lives1 with whom   
my soul was enamoured when it was       
struggling1 as will be set forth in  the
 next chapter4          ,,chapter ,x4   
,returning to the proposition1 ,i say   
that in that verse which begins ,a  foe 
so strong ,i find him that he destroys1 
,i intend to make manifest  that which  
was discoursing in my ,soul1 the ancient
 thought against the  new2 and first    
briefly ,i show the cause of its        
lamentation1 when ,i  say3 ,this        
opposite now breaks the humble dream ,of
 the crowned angel  in the glory-beam4  
,this one is that especial thought of   
which it is  said above that it was wont
 to be the life of the sorrowing heart4 
,then when ,i say1 ,still1 therefore1 my
 ,soul weeps1 it is evident that  my    
,soul is still on its side1 and speaks  
with sadness2 and ,i say that  it speaks

 words of lamentation1 as if it might   
wonder at the sudden  transformation1   
saying3 ',the tender star1' ,it says1   
'that once was my  consoler1 flies4' ,it
 can well say consoler1 for in the great
 loss  which ,i sustained in the death  
of ,beatrice this thought1 which        
ascended into ,heaven1 had given to my  
,soul much consolation4    ,then        
afterwards ,i say1 that all my thought1 
my ,soul1 of which ,i say1  ,that       
troubled one1 turns in excuse of itself1
 and speaks against the  eyes2 and this 
is made evident there3 ,that troubled   
one asked1 ',when  into thine eyes      
,looked she8' ,and ,i say that she      
speaks of them and  against them three  
things3 the first is1 she blasphemes the
 hour when  this woman saw them4 ,and   
here you must know1 that although many  
things  in one hour can come into the   
eyes1 truly that which comes by a       
straight line into the point of the     
pupil1 that truly one sees1 and  that   
only is sealed in the imaginative part4 

,and this is1 because the  nerve by     
which the visible spirit runs is        
directed to that part1 and  thereupon   
truly one eye cannot look on the eye of 
another so that it  is not seen by it2  
for as that which looks receives the    
form of the  pupil by a right line1 so  
by that same line its form passes into  
that  eye which gazes4 ,and many times  
in the direction of that line a shaft   
flies from the bow of ,love1 with whom  
each weapon is light4 ,therefore1  when 
,i ask1 ,when first into mine eyes      
looked she8 it is as much as  to ask1   
,when did her eyes and mine look into   
each other8    ,the second point is in  
that which reproves their disobedience1 
when it  says1 ,of her1 why doubted they
 my words8 ,then it proceeds to the     
third thing and says that it is not     
right to reprove them for  precaution1  
but for their disobedience2 for it says 
that1 sometimes1  when speaking of this 
woman1 it might be said1 ,her eyes bear 
death to  such as ,i1 if she could have 

opened the way of approach4 ,and indeed 
one ought to believe that my ,soul knew 
of its own inclination ready to  receive
 the operation of this power1 and       
therefore dreaded it2 for the  act of   
the agent takes full effect in the      
patient who has the  inclination to     
receive it1 as the ,philosopher says in 
the second book  on the ,soul4 ,and1    
therefore1 if wax could have the spirit 
of fear1 it  would fear most to come    
into the rays of the ,sun1 which would  
not turn  it into stone1 since its      
disposition is to yield to that strong  
operation4    ,lastly1 the ,soul reveals
 in its speech that their presumption   
had been  dangerous when it says1 ,yet  
vainly warned1 ,i gazed on her and die4 
,and thus it closes its speech1 to which
 the new thought replies1 as  will be   
declared in the following chapter4      
,,chapter ,,xi4      ,the meaning of    
that part in which the ,soul speaks1    
that is1 the old  thought which is      
undone1 has been shown4 ,now1 in due    

order1 the  meaning must be shown of the
 part in which the new antagonistic     
thought speaks2 and this part is        
contained entirely in the verse or      
stanza which begins1 ,thou art not dead1
 which part1 in order to  understand it 
well1 ,i will divide into two2 that in  
the first part1  which begins ,thou art 
not dead1 it then says1 continuing its  
last  words1 ,it is not true that thou  
art dead2 but the cause wherefore  thou 
to thyself seemest to be dead is a      
deadly dismay into which thou  art      
vilely fallen because of this woman who 
has appeared to thee4 ,and  here it is  
to be observed that1 as ,boethius says  
in his ,consolation1  each sudden change
 of things does not happen without some 
flurry of  mind4 ,and this is expressed 
in the reproof of that thought which is 
called the spirit voice of tenderness1  
when it gave me to understand  that my  
consent was inclining towards it2 and   
thus1 one can easily  comprehend this1  
and recognize its victory1 when it      

already says1  ,dear ,soul of ours1     
therein making itself familiar4 ,then1  
as is  stated1 it commands where it     
ought to rebuke that ,soul1 in order to 
induce it to come to her2 and therefore 
it says to her3 ,see1 she is  lowly1    
,pitiful1 courteous1 though so wise and 
holy4    ,these are two things which are
 a fit remedy for the fear with which   
the ,soul appeared impassioned2 for1    
firmly united1 they cause the           
individual to hope well1 and especially 
,pity1 which causes all other  goodness 
to shine forth by its light4 ,wherefore 
,virgil1 speaking of  neas1 in his      
greater praise calls him compassionate1 
pitiful2 and  that is not pity such as  
the common people understand it1 which  
is to  lament over the misfortunes of   
others2 nay1 this is an especial effect 
which is called ,mercy1 ,pity1          
,compassion2 and it is a passion4 ,but  
compassion is not a passion2 rather a   
noble disposition of mind1  prepared to 
receive ,love1 ,mercy1 and other        

charitable passions4 ,then  it says3    
,see also how courteous1 though so wise 
and holy4    ,here it says three things 
which1 according as they can be acquired
 by  us1 make the person especially     
pleasing4 ,it says ,wise4 ,now1 what is 
more beautiful in a woman than          
knowledge8 ,it says ,courteous4 ,nothing
  in a woman can be more excellent than 
courtesy4 ,and neither are the  wretched
 common people deceived even in this    
word1 for they believe  that courtesy is
 no other than liberality2 for          
liberality is an  especial1 and not a   
general courtesy4 ,courtesy is all one  
with  honesty1 modesty1 decency2 and    
because the virtues and good manners    
were the custom in ,courts anciently1 as
 now the opposite is the  custom1 this  
word was taken from the ,courts2 which  
word1 if it should  now be taken from   
the ,courts1 especially of ,italy1 would
 and could  express no other than       
baseness4 ,it says ,holy4 ,the greatness
 which is  here meant is especially well

 accompanied with the two               
afore-mentioned  virtues2 because it is 
that light which reveals the good and   
the evil  of the person clearly4 ,and   
how much knowledge and how much virtuous
  custom does there not seem to be      
wanting by this light6 ,how much        
madness and how much vice are seen to be
 by this light6 ,better would  it be for
 the wretched madmen high in station1   
stupid and vicious1 to  be of low       
estate1 that neither in the world nor   
after this life they  should be so      
infamous4 ,truly for such ,solomon says 
in ,ecclesiastes3  ,there is a sore evil
 that ,i have seen under the ,sun2      
namely1 riches  kept for the owners     
thereof to their hurt4    ,then         
subsequently it lays a command on it1   
that is1 on my ,soul1 that  it should   
now call this one its ,lady3 ,think thou
 to call her ,mistress  evermore1       
promising my ,soul that it will be quite
 content with her  when it shall have   
clear perception of all her wonderful   

accomplishments2 and then this one says3
 ,save thou delude thyself1  then shall 
there shine ,high miracles before thee2 
neither does it  speak otherwise even to
 the end of that stanza4 ,and here ends 
the  ,literal meaning of all that which 
,i say in this ,song1 speaking to  these
 ,celestial ,intelligences4             
,,chapter ,,xii4      ,finally1         
according to that which the letter of   
this ,commentary said  above1 when ,i   
divided the principal parts of this     
,song1 ,i turn back  with the face of my
 discourse to the same ,song1 and ,i    
speak to that4  ,and in order that this 
part may be understood more fully1 ,i   
say that  generally in each ,song there 
is what is called a ,tornata1 because   
the  ,reciters1 who originally were     
accustomed to compose it1 so contrived  
that when the song was sung1 with a     
certain part of the song they  could    
return to it4 ,but ,i have rarely done  
it with that intention2  and1 in order  
that others may perceive1 this ,i have  

seldom placed it  with the sequence of  
the ,song1 so long as it is in the      
rhythm which is  necessary to the       
measure4 ,but ,i have used it when it   
was requisite to  express something     
independent of the meaning of the ,song1
 and which  was needful for its         
embellishment1 as it will be possible to
 perceive  in this and in the other     
,songs4    ,and1 therefore1 ,i say at   
present1 that the goodness and the      
beauty of  each discourse are parted and
 divided2 for the goodness is in the    
meaning1 and the beauty in the ornament 
of the words4 ,and the one and  the     
other are with delight1 although the    
goodness is especially  delightful4     
,wherefore1 since the goodness of this  
,song might be  difficult to perceive1  
because of the various persons who are  
led to  speak in it1 where so many      
distinctions are required2 and the      
beauty  would be easy to see1 it seemed 
to me1 of the nature of the ,song that  
by some men more attention might be paid

 to the beauty of the words  than to the
 goodness of matter4 ,and this is what  
,i say in that part4    ,but1 because it
 often happens that to admonish seems   
presumptuous in  certain conditions1 it 
is usual for the ,rhetorician to speak  
indirectly to others1 directing his     
words1 not to him for whom he  speaks1  
but towards another4 ,and truly this    
method is maintained here2  for to the  
,song the words go1 and to the men the  
meaning of them4 ,i  say then3 ,my      
,song1 ,i do believe there will be few  
,who toil to  understand thy reasoning4 
,and ,i state the cause1 which is       
double4  ,first1 because thou speakest  
with fatigue--with fatigue1 ,i say1 for 
the reason which is stated2 and then    
because thou speakest with              
difficulty--with difficulty1 ,i say1 as 
to the novelty of the meaning4  ,now    
afterwards ,i admonish it1 and say3     
,but if thou pass perchance by those who
 bring      ,no skill to give thee the  
attention due1        ,then pray ,i1    

dear last-born1 let them rejoice        
,at least to find a music in my voice4  
,for in this ,i desire to say no other  
according to what is said above1  except
 ,oh1 men1 you who cannot see the       
meaning of this ,song1 do not  therefore
 refuse it2 but pay attention to its    
beauty1 which is great1  both for       
construction1 which belongs to the      
,grammarians2 and for the  order of the 
discourse1 which belongs to the         
,rhetoricians2 as well as  for the      
rhythm of its parts1 which belongs to   
the ,musicians4 ,for  which things he   
who looks well can see that there may be
 beauty in it4  ,and this is the entire 
,literal meaning of the first ,song     
which is  prepared for the first dish in
 my ,banquet4          ,,chapter ,,xiii4
      ,since the ,literal meaning has   
been sufficiently explained1 we must now
  proceed to the ,allegorical and true  
exposition4 ,and1 therefore1  beginning 
again from the first head1 ,i say that  
when ,i had lost the  chief delight of  

my ,soul in former time1 ,i was left so 
stung with  sadness that no consolation 
whatever availed me4 ,nevertheless1     
after  some time1 my mind1 reasoning    
with itself to heal itself1 took heed1  
since neither my own nor that of another
 availed to comfort it1 to  turn to the 
method which a certain disconsolate one 
had adopted when  he looked for         
,consolation4 ,and ,i set myself to read
 that book of  ,boethius1 not known to  
many1 in which1 when a captive exile1 he
 had  consoled himself4 ,and1 again1    
hearing that ,tullius had written       
another  book1 in which1 treating of    
,friendship1 he had spoken words for the
  consolation of ,llius1 a most         
excellent man1 on the death of his      
friend ,scipio1 ,i set myself to read   
it4 ,and although at first it was       
difficult to me to enter into their     
meaning1 yet1 finally1 ,i entered  into 
it so much as the knowledge of grammar  
that ,i possessed1 together  with some  
slight power of intellect1 enabled me to

 do3 by which power  of intellect ,i    
formerly beheld many things almost like 
a person in a  dream1 as may be seen in 
the ,vita ,nuova4 ,and as it is wont to 
be that  a man goes seeking for silver1 
and beyond his purpose he finds gold1   
whose hidden cause appears not perhaps  
without the ,divine ,will2 ,i1 who      
sought to console myself1 found not only
 a remedy for my tears1 but  words of   
authors and of sciences and of books2   
reflecting on which ,i  judged well that
 ,philosophy1 who was the ,lady of these
 authors1 of  these sciences1 and of    
these books1 might be a supreme thing4  
,and ,i  imagined her in the form of a  
gentle ,lady2 and ,i could imagine her  
in  no other attitude than a            
compassionate one1 because if willingly 
the  sense of ,truth beheld her1 hardly 
could it turn away from her4 ,and  with 
this imagination ,i began to go where   
she is demonstrated  truthfully1 that   
is1 to the ,schools of the ,religious1  
and to the  disputations of the         

,philosophers2 so that in a short time1 
perhaps of  thirty months1 ,i began to  
feel her sweetness so much that my love 
for  her chased away and destroyed all  
other thought4 ,wherefore ,i1 feeling   
myself to rise from the thought of the  
first ,love to the virtue of  this new  
one1 as if wondering at myself1 opened  
my mouth in the speech  of the proposed 
,song1 showing my condition under the   
figure of other  things3 for of the     
,lady with whom ,i was enamoured1 no    
rhyme of any  ,vernacular was worthy to 
speak openly1 neither were the hearers  
so  well prepared that they could have  
easily understood the words without     
figure3 neither would faith have been   
given by them to the true  meaning1 as  
to the figurative2 since if the truth of
 the whole was  believed1 that ,i was   
inclined to that love1 it would not be  
believed  of this4 ,i then begin to     
speak3 ,ye who1 intent of thought1 the  
third  ,heaven move4    ,and because1 as
 has been said1 this ,lady was the      

daughter of ,god1 the  ,queen of all1   
the most noble and most beautiful       
,philosophy1 it remains  to be seen who 
these ,movers were1 and what this third 
,heaven4 ,and  firstly of the third     
,heaven1 according to the order which   
has been  gone through4 ,and here it is 
not needful to proceed to division1 and 
to explanation of the letter1 for1      
having turned the fictitious speech     
away from that which it utters to that  
which it means1 by the  exposition just 
gone through1 this meaning is           
sufficiently made  evident4             
,,chapter ,,xiv4      ,in order to see  
what is meant by the third ,heaven1 one 
has in the  first place to perceive what
 ,i desire to express by this word      
,heaven  alone3 and then one will see   
how and why this third ,heaven was      
needful  to us4 ,i say that by ,heaven  
,i mean ,science1 and by the ,heavens   
the  ,sciences1 from three resemblances 
which the ,heavens have with the        
,sciences1 especially by the order and  

number in which they must  appear2 as   
will be seen by discussing that word    
,third4 ,the first  similitude is the   
revolution of the one and the other     
round one fixed  centre4 ,for each      
movable ,heaven revolves round its      
centre1 which1 on  account of its       
movement1 moves not2 and thus each      
,science moves round  its subject1 which
 itself moves not2 for no ,science      
demonstrates its  own foundation1 but   
presupposes that4 ,the second similitude
 is the  illumination of the one and the
 other4 ,for each ,heaven illuminates   
visible things2 and thus each ,science  
illuminates the things  intelligible4   
,and the third similitude is the        
inducing of perfection  in the things so
 inclined4 ,of which induction1 as to   
the first  perfection1 that is1 of the  
substantial generation1 all the         
philosophers agree that the ,heavens are
 the cause1 although they  attribute    
this in different ways3 some from the   
,movers1 as ,plato1  ,avicenna1 and     

,algazel2 some from the stars           
themselves1 especially the  human souls1
 as ,socrates1 and also ,plato and      
,dionysius the  ,academician2 and some  
from celestial virtue which is in the   
natural  heat of the seed1 as ,aristotle
 and the other ,peripatetics4 ,thus the 
,sciences are the cause in us of the    
induction of the second  perfection2 by 
the use of which we can speculate       
concerning the ,truth1  which is our    
ultimate perfection1 as the ,philosopher
 says in the sixth  book of the ,ethics1
 when he says that ,truth is the good of
 the  intellect4 ,because of these and  
many other resemblances1 it is  possible
 to call ,science1 ,heaven4    ,now it  
remains to see why it is called the     
third ,heaven4 ,here it is  requisite to
 reflect somewhat with regard to a      
comparison which exists  between the    
order of the ,heavens and that of the   
,sciences ,wherefore1  as has been      
previously described1 the ,seven        
,heavens next to us are  those of the   

,planets2 then there are two ,heavens   
above these1 the  ,mobile1 and one above
 all1 ,quiet4 ,to the ,seven first      
correspond the  ,seven ,sciences of the 
,trivium and of the ,quadrivium1        
namely1 ,grammar1 ,logic1 ,rhetoric1    
,arithmetic1 ,music1 ,geometry1 and     
,astrology4 ,to the eighth ,sphere1     
i4e41 to the starry1 correspond         
,natural ,science1 which is termed      
,physics1 and the first ,science1 which 
is termed ,metaphysics4 ,to the ninth   
,sphere corresponds ,moral ,science2    
and to the ,quiet ,heaven corresponds   
,divine ,science1 which is  designated  
,theology4    ,and the reason why this  
is1 remains briefly to be seen4 ,i say  
that the  ,heaven of the ,moon is       
likened unto ,grammar because it is     
possible to  find a comparison to it4   
,for if you look at the ,moon well1 two 
things  are seen to be proper to it     
which are not seen in the other stars3  
the  one is the shadow which is in it1  
which is no other than the rarity of    

its body1 in which the rays of the ,sun 
can find no end wherefrom to  strike    
back again as in the other parts2 the   
other is the variation of  its          
brightness1 which now shines on one     
side1 and now on the other1  according  
as the ,sun sees it4 ,and these two     
properties ,grammar has3  for1 because  
of its infinity1 the rays of reason can 
find no end in it  in parts1 especially 
of the words2 and it shines now on this 
side1 now  on that1 inasmuch as certain 
words1 certain declensions1 certain     
constructions1 are in use which were not
 formerly1 and many formerly  were which
 again will be2 as ,horace says in the  
beginning of his book  on the art of    
,poetry1 when he says3 ,many words will 
spring up again  which have now fallen  
out of use4    ,and the ,heaven of      
,mercury may be compared to ,logic      
because of two  properties3 that        
,mercury is the smallest star in        
,heaven1 that the  amount of its        
diameter is no more than two hundred and

 thirty-two  miles1 according as        
,alfergano puts it1 who says that it is 
one  twenty-eighth part of the diameter 
of the ,earth1 which is six thousand    
five hundred miles2 the other property  
is1 that it is more concealed  by the   
rays of the ,sun than any other star4   
,and these two properties  are in       
,logic3 for ,logic is less in substance 
than any other ,science1  for it is     
perfectly compiled and terminated in so 
much text as is  found in the old ,art  
and the new2 and it is more concealed   
than any  other ,science1 inasmuch as it
 proceeds with more sophistical and     
probable arguments than any other4      
,and the ,heaven of ,venus may be       
compared to ,rhetoric because of two    
properties3 the one is the brightness of
 its aspect1 which is most  sweet to    
behold1 far more than any other star2   
the other is its  appearance1 now in the
 morning1 now in the evening4 ,and these
 two  properties are in ,rhetoric3 for  
,rhetoric is the sweetest of all        

,sciences1 since it principally aims at 
sweetness4 ,it appears in the  morning1 
when the ,rhetorician speaks before the 
face of the hearer2 it  appears in the  
evening1 that is1 afterwards1 when it   
speaks by ,letters  in distant parts4   
,and the ,heaven of the ,sun may be     
compared to ,arithmetic because of two  
properties3 the one is1 that with his   
light all the other stars are  informed2
 the other is that the eye cannot gaze  
at it4 ,and these two  properties are in
 ,arithmetic1 which with its light      
illuminates all its  ,sciences3 for     
their subjects are all considered under 
some ,number1 and  with ,number one     
always proceeds in the consideration of 
these2 as in  ,natural ,science the     
movable body is the subject1 which      
movable body  has in itself three       
reasons of continuity1 and this has in  
itself  reason of infinite number4 ,and 
of ,natural ,science its first and      
chiefest consideration is to consider   
the principles of natural  objects1     

which are three1 that is1 matter1       
privation1 and form2 in  which this     
,number is seen1 and not only in all    
together1 but again in  each one1 as he 
who considers subtly may perceive4      
,wherefore1  ,pythagoras1 according to  
what ,aristotle says in the first book  
of the  ,physics1 established as the    
principles of natural things1 the equal 
and the unequal2 considering all things 
to be ,number4 ,the other  property of  
the ,sun is again seen in ,number1 of   
which ,number is the  ,science of       
,arithmetic1 that the eye of the        
intellect cannot gaze at  it4 ,for      
,number1 inasmuch as it is considered in
 itself1 is infinite2  and this we      
cannot1 understand4    ,and the ,heaven 
of ,mars may be compared to ,music      
because of two  properties4 ,one is its 
most beautiful relative position2 for1  
when  enumerating the movable ,heavens1 
from which one soever you may begin1    
either from the lowest or from the      
highest1 this ,heaven of ,mars is the   

fifth2 it is the central one of all1    
that is1 of the first1 of the  second1  
of the third1 and of the fourth4 ,the   
other is1 that this ,mars  dries up and 
burns things1 because his heat is like  
to that of fire2  and this is why it    
appears flaming in colour1 sometimes    
more and  sometimes less1 according to  
the density and rarity of the vapours   
which follow it1 which of themselves are
 often kindled1 as is  determined in the
 first book on ,meteors4 ,and1          
therefore1 ,albumassar  says that the   
kindling of these vapours signifies the 
death of ,kings  and the change of      
,kingdoms2 for they are the effects of  
the dominion  of ,mars4 ,and1 therefore1
 ,seneca says that1 on the death of     
,augustus1  he beheld on high a ball of 
fire4 ,and in ,florence1 at the         
beginning of  its destruction1 there was
 seen in the air1 in the form of a      
cross1 a  great quantity of these       
vapours following the planet ,mars4 ,and
 these  two properties are in ,music1   

which is all relative1 as is seen in    
harmonized words and in songs1 from     
which the sweeter harmony results  in   
proportion as the relation is more      
beautiful1 which in this ,science  is   
especially beautiful1 because there is  
in it a special harmony4  ,again1 ,music
 attracts to itself human spirits1 which
 are as it were  chiefly vapours from   
the heart1 so that they almost cease    
from all  labour2 so is the whole soul  
when it hears it1 and the power of all  
those spirits flies as it were to the   
spirit of sense1 which receives  the    
sound4    ,and the ,heaven of ,jupiter  
can be compared to ,geometry because of 
two  properties4 ,the one is1 that it   
moves between two ,heavens1 repugnant   
to its good tempering1 namely1 that of  
,mars and that of ,saturn4 ,hence       
,ptolemy says1 in the book alluded to1  
that ,jupiter is a star of a  temperate 
complexion1 midway between the cold of  
,saturn and the heat  of ,mars4 ,the    
other is1 that amongst all the stars it 

appears white1 as  if silvered4 ,and    
these things are in the ,science of     
,geometry4 ,geometry  moves between two 
things antagonistic to it2 as between   
the point and  the circle1 and ,i term  
circle freely anything that is round1   
either a  body or superfices2 for1 as   
,euclid says1 the point is the beginning
 of  ,geometry1 and1 according to what  
he says1 the circle is the most  perfect
 figure in it1 which must therefore have
 reason for its end2 so  that between   
the point and the circle1 as between the
 beginning and  the end1 ,geometry      
moves4 ,and these two are antagonistic  
to its  certainty2 for the point by its 
indivisibility is immeasurable1 and  the
 circle1 on account of its arc1 it is   
impossible to square  perfectly1 and    
therefore it is impossible to measure   
precisely4 ,and  again1 ,geometry is    
most white1 inasmuch as it is without   
spot of  error1 and it is most certain  
in itself1 and by its handmaid1 called  
,perspective4    ,and the ,heaven of    

,saturn has two properties because of   
which it can be  compared to ,astrology4
 ,one is the slowness of its movement   
through the  twelve signs2 for          
twenty-nine years and more1 according to
 the  writings of the ,astrologers1 is  
the time that it requires in its  orbit4
 ,the other is1 that above all the other
 planets it is highest4  ,and these two 
properties are in ,astrology1 for in    
completing its  circle1 as in the       
acquirement of this ,science1 the       
greatest space of  time is revolved1    
because its demonstrations are more than
 any other  of the aforementioned       
,sciences1 and long experience is       
requisite to  those who would acquire   
good judgment in it4 ,and again1 it is  
the  highest of all the others1 because1
 as ,aristotle says in the  commencement
 of his book on the ,soul1 the ,science 
is high1 because of  its nobility1 and  
because of the nobleness of its subject 
and its  certainty4 ,and this ,science  
more than any other of those mentioned  

above is noble and high1 for noble and  
high is its subject1 which is  the      
movement of the ,heavens2 and high and  
noble1 because of its  certainty1 which 
is without any defect1 even as that     
which springs  from the most perfect and
 most regular principle4 ,and if any one
  believe that there is defect in it1 it
 is not on the part of the  ,science1   
but1 as ,ptolemy says1 it is through our
 negligence1 and to  that it must be    
imputed4          ,,chapter ,,xv4       
,after the comparisons which ,i have    
made of the seven first ,heavens1 we    
must now proceed to the others1 which   
are three1 as has been often  stated4   
,i say that the ,starry ,heaven may be  
compared to ,physics because of  three  
properties1 and to ,metaphysics because 
of three others4 ,for it  shows us of   
itself two visible things1 such as the  
multitude of stars  and such as the     
,galaxy1 that white circle which the    
common people call  the ,path of ,st4   
,james4 ,it shows to us also one of the 

poles1 and keeps  the other hidden from 
us4 ,and it shows to us one movement    
alone from  ,east to ,west2 and another1
 which it makes from ,west to ,east1 it 
keeps  almost1 as it were1 hidden from  
us4 ,therefore1 in due order are to be  
seen1 first the comparison with the     
,physical and then that with the        
,metaphysical4    ,i say that the       
,starry ,heaven shows us many stars2    
for1 according to  what the wise men of 
,egypt have seen1 even to the last star 
which  appeared to them in the          
,meridian1 they place there twenty-two  
thousand  bodies of stars1 of which ,i  
speak4 ,and in this it has the greatest 
similitude with ,physics1 if these three
 numbers1 namely1 ,two1 and  ,twenty1   
and ,thousand1 are regarded well and    
subtly4 ,for by the two is  meant the   
local movement1 which is of necessity   
from one point to  another2 and by the  
twenty is signified the movement of the 
alteration1 for1 since from the ten     
upwards one advances not except by      

altering this ten with the other nine   
and with itself2 and the most  beautiful
 alteration which it receives is its own
 with itself1 and the  first which it   
receives is the twenty2 reasonably by   
this number the  said movement is       
signified4 ,and by the thousand is      
signified the  movement of increase1    
which in name1 that is1 this thousand1  
is the  greater number1 and to increase 
still more is not possible except by    
multiplying this4 ,and these three      
movements alone are observed in         
,physics1 as it is demonstrated in the  
fifth chapter of his first book4    ,and
 because of the ,milky ,way1 this       
,heaven has a great similitude with     
,metaphysics4 ,wherefore1 it is to be   
known that concerning this ,galaxy  the 
,philosophers have had different        
opinions4 ,for the followers of         
,pythagoras said that the ,sun at some  
time or other went astray from  his     
path1 and1 passing through other parts  
not suitable to his fervent  heat1 he   

burnt the place through which he passed1
 and there remained  that appearance of 
the conflagration4 ,and ,i believe that 
they were  moved by the fable of        
,phaeton1 which ,ovid relates in the    
beginning of  the second part of his    
,metamorphoses4 ,others said1 such as   
,anaxagoras  and ,democritus1 that it   
was the light of the ,sun reflected into
 that  part4 ,and these opinions1 with  
demonstrative reasons1 they proved over 
and over again4 ,what ,aristotle may    
have said of this is not so easy to     
learn1 because his opinion is not found 
to be the same in one  translation as in
 the other2 and ,i believe that it might
 be due to the  error of the            
translators1 for in the new one he seems
 to say that the  ,galaxy is a          
collection of vapours under the stars of
 that part which  always attract them2  
and this does not seem to be the true   
reason4 ,in  the old translation he says
 that the ,galaxy is no other than a    
multitude of fixed stars in that part1  

so small that we cannot  distinguish    
them from here below1 but that they     
cause the whiteness  which we call the  
,milky ,way4 ,and it may be that the    
,heaven in that  part is more dense1 and
 therefore retains and represents that  
light2  and this opinion ,avicenna and  
,ptolemy seem to share with ,aristotle4 
,therefore1 since the ,galaxy is an     
effect of those stars which we  cannot  
see1 if we understand those things by   
their effect alone1 and  ,metaphysics   
treats of the first substances1 which we
 cannot similarly  understand except by 
their effects1 it is evident that the   
,starry  ,heaven has a great similitude 
to ,metaphysics4    ,again1 by the pole 
which we see is signified the things    
known to our  senses1 concerning which1 
taking them universally1 the ,science of
  ,physics treats2 and by the pole which
 we do not see is signified the  things 
which are without matter1 which are not 
sensible1 concerning  which ,metaphysics
 treats2 and therefore the said ,heaven 

has a great  similitude with the one    
,science and with the other4    ,again1 
by the two movements it signifies these 
two ,sciences3 for by  the movement in  
which every day revolves1 and makes a   
new revolution  from point to point1 it 
signifies things natural and corruptible
 which  daily complete their path1 and  
their material is changed from form to  
form2 and of this the ,science of       
,physics treats4 ,and by the almost     
insensible movement which it makes from 
,west to ,east by one degree in  a      
hundred years1 it signifies things      
incorruptible1 which received  from ,god
 the beginning of their creation1 and   
will have no end2 but of  these         
,metaphysics treats4 ,therefore ,i say  
that this movement signifies  those     
things1 for it began this revolution    
which will have no end2 the  end of the 
revolution being to return to one       
self-same point1 to which  this ,heaven 
will not return by this movement1 which 
has revolved a  little more than the    

sixth part from the commencement of the 
world2  and we are now in the last age  
of the world1 and verily we wait the    
consummation of the celestial movement4 
,thus it is evident that the  ,starry   
,heaven1 on account of many properties1 
may be compared to the  ,science of     
,physics and ,metaphysics4    ,the      
,crystalline ,heaven1 which1 as the     
,primum ,mobile1 has been  previously   
counted1 has a sufficiently evident     
comparison to ,moral  ,philosophy2 for  
,moral ,philosophy1 according to what   
,tommaso says upon  the second book of  
the ,ethics1 teaches us method in the   
other  ,sciences4    ,for as the        
,philosopher says in the fifth book of  
the ,ethics1 legal  ,justice requires   
the ,sciences to be learnt1 and         
commands1 in order  that they may not be
 abandoned1 that they be learnt and     
taught3 thus1  the said ,heaven rules   
with its movement the daily revolution  
of all  the others2 from which          
revolution every day all those receive  

and send  below the virtues of their    
several parts4 ,for1 if the revolution  
of  this ,heaven could not rule over    
that1 but little of their power would   
descend below1 and little of their      
aspect4 ,wherefore we hold that1 if  it 
could be possible for this ninth ,heaven
 not to move1 the third part  of the    
,heaven would not again be seen in any  
part from the ,earth3  ,saturn would be 
for fourteen years and a half concealed 
from any place  on the ,earth1 ,jupiter 
would be hidden for six years1 and ,mars
 for  almost a whole year1 and the ,sun 
for one hundred and eighty-two days  and
 fourteen hours 7,i say days1 meaning so
 much time as so many days  measure72   
and ,venus and ,mercury1 almost like the
 ,sun1 would be hidden  and would       
reappear1 and the ,moon for the space of
 fourteen days and a  half would be     
hidden from all people4 ,verily1 here   
below there would  be neither           
generation1 nor the life of animals1 nor
 of plants2 there  would be no night1   

nor day1 nor week1 nor month1 nor year2 
but the  whole ,universe would be       
disordered1 and the movement of the     
stars  would be in vain4 ,not otherwise1
 should ,moral ,philosophy cease to be1 
would the other ,sciences be hidden for 
some time1 and there would be  no       
generation nor life of happiness1 and   
all books would be in vain1  and all    
discoveries of old4 ,therefore it is    
sufficiently evident that  there is a   
comparison between this ,heaven and     
,moral ,philosophy4    ,again1 the      
,empyrean ,heaven1 because of its       
,peace1 bears a similitude  to the      
,divine ,science1 which is full of all  
,peace2 which endures no  conflict of   
opinion or of sophistical arguments1 on 
account of the  most excellent certainty
 of its subject1 which is ,god4 ,and of 
this ,he  ,himself speaks to ,his       
disciples3 ,my peace ,i give to you3 ,my
 peace ,i  leave unto you1 giving and   
leaving to them ,his doctrine1 which is 
this ,science whereof ,i speak4         

,solomon says of this ,science3 ,sixty  
are the queens1 and eighty the  friendly
 concubines2 and youthful virgins       
without number2 but one is  my dove and 
my perfect one4 ,all the ,sciences he   
terms queens1 and  friends1 and virgins2
 and he calls this one dove1 because it 
is  without blemish of strife2 and he   
calls this one perfect1 because it      
causes us to see perfectly the ,truth in
 which our ,soul finds ,peace4    ,and  
therefore the comparison of the ,heavens
 to the ,sciences having  been thus     
reasoned out1 it is easy to see that by 
the ,third ,heaven ,i  mean ,rhetoric1  
which has been likened unto the ,third  
,heaven1 as  appears above4             
,,chapter ,,xvi4      ,by the           
similitudes spoken of it is possible to 
see who these ,movers  are to whom ,i   
speak2 what are the ,movers of that     
,heaven2 even as  ,boethius and         
,tullius1 who by the sweetness of their 
speech sent me1 as  has before been     
stated1 to the ,love1 which is the study

 of that most  gentle ,lady1            
,philosophy1 by the rays of their star1 
which is the  written word of that fair 
one4 ,therefore in each ,science the    
written  word is a star full of light1  
which that ,science reveals ,and1 this  
being made manifest1 it is easy to see  
the true meaning of the first  verse of 
the purposed ,poem by means of the      
exposition1 ,figurative and  ,literal4  
,and by means of this self-same         
exposition one can  sufficiently        
understand the second verse1 even to    
that part where it  says1 ,this ,spirit 
made me look on a fair ,lady3 where it  
should be  known that this ,lady is     
,philosophy2 which truly is a ,lady full
 of  sweetness1 adorned with modesty1   
wonderful for wisdom1 the glory of      
freedom1 as in the ,third ,treatise1    
where her ,nobility will be  described1 
it is made manifest4 ,and then where it 
says3 ,who seeks  where his ,salvation  
lies1 ,must gaze intently in this       
,lady's eyes2 the  eyes of this ,lady   

are her demonstrations1 which look      
straight into the  eyes of the          
intellect1 enamour the ,soul1 and set it
 free from the  trammels of             
circumstance4 ,oh1 most sweet and       
ineffable forms1 swift  stealers of the 
human mind1 which appear in these       
demonstrations1 that  is1 in the eyes of
 ,philosophy1 when she discourses to her
 faithful  friends6 ,verily in you is   
,salvation1 whereby he is made blessed  
who  looks at you1 and is saved from the
 death of ,ignorance and ,vice4 ,where  
it says1 ,nor dread the sighs of        
anguish1 joys debarred1 the wish is  to 
signify1 if he fear not the labour of   
study and the strife of  conflicting    
opinions1 which flow forth ever         
multiplying from the  living ,spring in 
the eyes of this ,lady1 and then her    
light still  continuing1 they fall away1
 almost like little morning clouds      
before  the ,sun4 ,and now the          
intellect1 become her friend1 remains   
free and  full of certain ,truth1 even  

as the atmosphere is rendered pure and  
bright by the shining of the midday     
,sun4    ,the third passage again is    
explained by the ,literal exposition as 
far  as to where it says1 ,still        
therefore the ,soul weeps4 ,here it is  
desirable to attend to a certain moral  
sense which may be observed in  these   
words3 that a man ought not for the sake
 of the greater friend  to forget the   
service received from the lesser2 but if
 one must follow  the one and leave the 
other1 the greater is to be followed1   
with  honest lamentation for desertion  
of the other1 whereby he gives  occasion
 to the one whom he follows to bestow   
more love on him4 ,then  there where it 
says1 ,of my eyes1 has no other meaning 
except that  bitter was the hour when   
the first demonstration of this ,lady   
entered  into the eyes of my intellect1 
which was the cause of this most close  
attachment4 ,and there where it says1   
,my peers1 it means the ,souls  set free
 from miserable and vile pleasures1 and 

from vulgar habits1  endowed with       
understanding and memory4 ,and then it  
says1 ,her eyes  bear death1 and then it
 says1 ,i gazed on her and die1 which   
appears  contrary to that which is said 
above of ,salvation by this ,lady4 ,and 
therefore it is to be known that one    
,spirit speaks here on one side  and the
 other speaks there on the other2 which 
two dispute  contrariwise1 according to 
that which is made evident above4       
,wherefore  it is no wonder if here the 
one ,spirit says ,yes1 and there the    
other  ,spirit says ,no4 ,then in the   
stanza where it says1 ,a sweet voice of 
tenderness1 a thought is meant which was
 born of my deep  contemplation2        
wherefore it is to be known that by     
,love1 in this  ,allegory1 is always    
meant that deep contemplation which is  
the earnest  application of the         
enamoured mind to that object wherewith 
it is  enamoured4 ,then when it says1   
,there shall shine ,high miracles before
  thee1 it announces that through her   

the adornments of the miracles  will be 
seen2 and it speaks truly1 that the     
adornment of the miracles  is to see the
 cause of the same1 which she           
demonstrates2 as in the  beginning of   
the book on ,metaphysics the            
,philosopher seems to feel1  saying     
that1 through the contemplation of these
 adornments1 men began  to be enamoured 
with this ,lady4 ,and concerning this   
word1 i4e41  miracle1 in the following  
treatise ,i shall speak more fully4     
,what then  follows of this ,song is    
sufficiently explained by the other     
exposition4    ,and thus at the end of  
this ,second ,treatise1 ,i say and      
affirm that the  ,lady with whom ,i     
became enamoured after the first ,love  
was the most  beautiful and most        
excellent daughter of the ,ruler of the 
,universe1 to  which daughter           
,pythagoras gave the name of            
,philosophy4 ,and here ends  the ,second
 ,treatise1 which is brought in for the 
first dish at my  ,banquet4           99

       99       99       99       99    
,the ,third ,treatise4          ,love1  
reasoning of my ,lady in my mind        
,with constant pleasure1 oft of her will
 say        ,things over which the      
intellect may stray2      ,his words    
make music of so sweet a kind           
,that the ,soul hears and feels1 and    
cries1 ,ah1 me1        ,that ,i want    
power to tell what thus ,i see6         
,if ,i would tell of her what thus ,i   
hear1        ,first1 all that ,reason   
cannot make its own        ,i needs must
 leave2 and of what may be known        
,leave part1 for want of words to make  
it clear4        ,if my ,song fail1     
blame wit and words1 whose force        
,fails to tell all ,i hear in ,love's   
discourse4        ,the ,sun sees not in 
travel round the earth1        ,till it 
reach her abode1 so fair a thing        
,as she of whom ,love causes me to sing4
      ,all minds of ,heaven wonder at   
her worth2        ,mortals1 enamoured1  
find her in their thought        ,when  

,love his peace into their minds has    
brought4        ,her ,maker saw that she
 was good1 and poured1        ,beyond   
our ,nature1 fulness of ,his ,power     
,on her pure soul1 whence shone this    
holy dower      ,through all her frame1 
with beauty so adored        ,that from 
the eyes she touches heralds fly        
,heartward with longings1 heavenward    
with a sigh4        ,on her fair frame  
,virtue ,divine descends        ,as on  
the angel that beholds ,his face4       
,fair one who doubt1 go with her1 mark  
the grace      ,in all her acts4        
,downward from ,heaven bends        ,an 
angel when the speaks1 who can attest   
,a power in her by none of us possessed4
        ,the graceful acts that she     
shows forth to all        ,rival in     
calls to love that love must hear2      
,fair in all like her1 fairest she'll   
appear      ,who is most like her4 ,we1 
content to call        ,her face a      
,miracle1 have ,faith made sure3        
,for that1 ,he made her ever to endure4 

,her aspect shows delights of ,paradise1
        ,seen in her eyes and in her    
smiling face2        ,love brought them 
there as to his dwelling-place4         
,they dazzle reason1 as the ,sun the    
eyes2        ,and since ,i cannot fix on
 them my gaze        ,words must suffice
 that little speak their praise4        
,rain from her beauty little flames of  
fire1        ,made living with a spirit 
to create        ,good thoughts1 and    
crush the vices that innate      ,make  
others vile4 ,fair one1 who may desire  
,escape from blame as one not calm or   
meek1        ,from her1 who is ,god's   
thought1 thy teaching seek4        ,my  
,song1 it seems you speak this to oppose
        ,the saying of a sister ,song of
 mine3        ,this lowly ,lady whom you
 call divine1      ,your sister called  
disdainful and morose4        ,though   
,heaven1 you know1 is ever bright and   
pure1        ,eyes may have cause to    
find a star obscure4        ,so when    
your sister called this ,lady proud     

,she judged not truly1 by what seemed2  
but fear        ,possessed her soul2 and
 still1 when ,i come near      ,her     
glance1 there's dread4 ,be such excuse  
allowed1        ,my ,song1 and when thou
 canst1 approach her1 say2        ,my   
,lady1 take all homage ,i can pay4      
,,chapter ,i4      ,in the preceding    
treatise is described how my second     
,love took its  rise from the           
compassionate countenance of a ,lady2   
which ,love1 finding  my ,soul inclined 
to its ardour1 after the manner of fire1
 was kindled  from a slight spark into a
 great flame2 so that not only during my
  waking hours1 but during sleep1 its   
light threw many a vision into my  mind4
 ,and how great the desire which ,love  
excited to behold this ,lady1  it would 
be impossible either to tell or to make 
understood4 ,and not  only of her was ,i
 thus desirous1 but of all those persons
 who had any  nearness to her1 either as
 acquaintances or as relations4 ,oh6 how
 many  were the nights1 when the eyes of

 other persons were closed in sleep1    
that mine1 wide open1 gazed fixedly upon
 the tabernacle of my ,love4    ,and as 
the rapidly increasing fire must of     
necessity be seen1 it being  impossible 
for fire to remain hidden1 the desire   
seized me to speak of  the ,love that ,i
 could no longer restrain within me4    
,and although ,i  could receive but     
little help from my own counsel1 yet1   
inasmuch as1  either from the will of   
,love or from my own promptness1 ,i drew
 nigh to  it many times1 ,i deliberated1
 and ,i saw that1 in speaking of ,love1 
there could be no more beautiful nor    
more profitable speech than that  which 
commends the beloved person4 ,and in    
this deliberation three  reasons        
assisted me4 ,one of them was self-love1
 which is the source of  all the rest1  
as every one sees4 ,for there is no more
 lawful nor more  courteous way of doing
 honour to one's self than by doing     
honour to  one's friend2 and1 since     
friendship cannot exist between the     

unlike1  wherever one sees friendship1  
likeness is understood2 and wherever    
likeness is understood1 thither runs    
public praise or blame4 ,and from  this 
reason two great lessons may be learnt3 
the one is1 never to wish  that any     
vicious man should seem your friend1 for
 in that case a bad  opinion is formed  
of him who has made the evil man his    
friend2 the  other is1 that no one ought
 to blame his friend publicly1 because1 
if  you consider well the aforesaid     
reason1 he but points to himself with   
his finger in his eye4    ,the second   
reason was the desire for the duration  
of this friendship2  wherefore it is to 
be known1 as the ,philosopher says in   
the ninth book  of the ,ethics1 in the  
friendship of persons of unequal        
position it is  requisite1 for the      
preservation of that friendship1 for a  
certain  proportion to exist between    
them1 which may reduce the dissimilarity
  to a similarity1 as between the master
 and the servant4 ,for1 although  the   

servant cannot render the same benefit  
to the master that is  conferred on him1
 yet he ought to render the best that he
 can1 with so  much solicitude and      
freewill that that which is dissimilar  
in itself  may become similar through   
the evidence of good-will1 which proves 
the  friendship1 confirms and preserves 
it4 ,wherefore ,i1 considering myself   
lower than that ,lady1 and perceiving   
myself benefited by her1  endeavoured to
 praise her according to my ability4    
,and1 if it be not  similar of itself1  
my prompt freewill proves at least that 
if ,i could  ,i would do more1 and thus 
it makes its friendship similar to that 
of  this gentle ,lady4    ,the third    
reason was an argument of prudence2 for1
 as ,boethius says1  ,it is not         
sufficient to look only at that which is
 before the eyes1  that is1 at the      
,present2 and1 therefore1 ,prudence1    
,foresight1 is given  to us1 which looks
 beyond to that which may happen4 ,i say
 that ,i  thought that for a long time  

,i might be reproached by many with     
levity  of mind1 on hearing that ,i had 
turned from my first ,love4 ,wherefore1 
to remove this reproach1 there was no   
better argument than to state  who the  
,lady was who had thus changed me2 that1
 by her manifest  excellence1 they might
 gain some perception of her virtue2 and
 that1  by the comprehension of her most
 exalted virtue1 they might be able to  
see that all stability of mind could be 
in that mutability3 and1  therefore1    
they should not judge me light and      
unstable4 ,i then began  to praise this 
,lady1 and if not in the most suitable  
manner1 at least  as well as ,i could at
 first2 and ,i began to say3 ,love1     
reasoning of  my ,lady in my mind4 ,this
 ,song chiefly has three parts4 ,the    
first is  the whole of the first two    
stanzas1 in which ,i speak in a         
preliminary  manner4 ,the second is the 
whole of the six following stanzas1 in  
which  is described that which is       
intended1 i4e41 the praise of that      

gentle  ,lady2 the first of which       
begins3 ,the ,sun sees not in travel    
round the  earth4 ,the third part is in 
the last two stanzas1 in which1         
addressing myself to the ,song1 ,i      
purify it from all doubtful             
interpretation4 ,and these three parts  
remain to be discussed now in  due      
order4          ,,chapter ,,ii4         
,turning1 then1 to the ,first ,part1    
which was composed as a ,proem or       
,preface to the ,song or ,poem1 ,i say  
that it is fitly divided into three     
parts4 ,in the first place1 it alludes  
to the ineffable condition of  this     
theme2 secondly1 it describes my        
insufficiency to speak of it in  a      
perfect manner2 and this second part    
begins3 ,if ,i would tell of her  what  
thus ,i hear4 ,finally1 ,i excuse myself
 for my insufficiency1 for  which they  
ought not to lay blame to my charge2 and
 ,i commence this  part when ,i say3 ,if
 my ,song fail4    ,i begin1 then3      
,love1 reasoning of my ,lady in my mind1

 where in the  first place it is to be  
seen who this speaker is1 and what this 
place  is in which ,i say that he is    
speaking4 ,love1 taking him in his true 
sense1 and considering him subtly1 is no
 other than the spiritual  union of the 
,soul with the beloved object2 into     
which union1 of its  own nature1 the    
,soul hastens sooner or later1 according
 as it is free  or impeded4 ,and the    
reason for that natural disposition may 
be this3  each substantial form proceeds
 from its ,first ,cause1 which is ,god1 
as  is written in the book of ,causes2  
and they receive not diversity from     
that ,first ,cause1 which is the most   
simple1 but from the secondary  causes1 
and from the material into which it     
descends4 ,wherefore1 in  the same book 
it is written1 when treating of the     
infusion of the  ,divine ,goodness3 ,the
 bounties and good gifts make diverse   
things1  through the concurrence of that
 which receives them4 ,wherefore1 since 
each effect retains somewhat of the     

nature of its cause1 as ,alfarabio  says
 when he affirms that that which has    
been the first cause of a  round body   
has in some way an essentially round    
form1 so each form in  some way has the 
essence of the ,divine ,nature in       
itself2 not that the  ,divine ,nature   
can be divided and communicated to      
these1 but  participated in by these1   
almost in the same way that the other   
stars  participate in the nature of the 
,sun4 ,and the nobler the form1 the     
more does it retain of that ,divine     
,nature4    ,wherefore the human ,soul1 
which is the noblest form of all those  
which  are generated under ,heaven1     
receives more from the ,divine ,nature  
than  any other4 ,and since it is most  
natural to wish to be in ,god1 for as   
in the book quoted above one reads1 the 
first thing is to exist1 and  before    
that there is nothing1 the human ,soul  
desires to exist  naturally with all    
possible desire4 ,and since its         
existence depends  upon ,god1 and is    

preserved by ,him1 it naturally desires 
and longs to  be united to ,god1 and so 
add strength to its own being4 ,and     
since1 in  the goodness of ,human       
,nature1 ,reason gives us proof of the  
,divine1 it  follows that1 naturally1   
the ,human ,soul is united therewith by 
the  path of the spirit so much the     
sooner1 and so much the more firmly1 in 
proportion as those good qualities      
appear more perfect2 which  appearance  
of perfection is achieved according as  
the power of the  ,soul to produce a    
good impression is strong and clear1 or 
is  trammelled and obscure4 ,and this   
union is that which we call ,love1      
whereby it is possible to know that     
which is within the ,soul1 by  looking  
at those whom it loves in the world     
without4 ,this ,love1 which  is the     
union of my ,soul with that gentle ,lady
 in whom so much of the  ,divine ,light 
was revealed to me1 is that speaker of  
whom ,i speak2  since from him          
continuous thoughts were born1 whilst   

gazing at and  considering the wondrous 
power of this ,lady who was spiritually 
made  one with my ,soul4    ,the place  
in which ,i say that he thus speaks is  
the ,mind4 ,but in  saying that it is   
the ,mind1 one does not attach more     
meaning to this  than before2 and       
therefore it is to be seen what this    
,mind properly  signifies4 ,i say1 then1
 that the ,philosopher1 in the second   
book on  the ,soul1 when speaking of its
 powers1 says that the ,soul principally
  has three powers1 which are1 to ,live1
 to ,feel1 and to ,reason3 and he  says 
also to ,move1 but it is possible to    
make this one with feeling1  since every
 ,soul moves that feels1 either with all
 the senses or with  one alone2 for the 
power to move is conjoined with feeling4
 ,and  according to that which he says1 
it is most evident that these powers    
are so entwined that the one is a       
foundation of the other2 and that  which
 is the foundation can of itself be     
divided2 but the other1 which  is built 

upon it1 cannot be apart from its       
foundation4 ,therefore1 the  ,vegetative
 power1 whereby one lives1 is the       
foundation upon which one  feels1 that  
is1 sees1 hears1 tastes1 smells1 and    
touches2 and this  vegetative power of  
itself can be the ,soul1 vegetative1 as 
we see in  all the plants4 ,the         
,sensitive cannot exist without that4   
,we find  nothing that feels1 and does  
not live4 ,and this ,sensitive power is 
the  foundation of the ,intellectual1   
that is1 of the ,reason2 so that1 in    
animate mortals1 the ,reasoning power is
 not found without the  ,sensitive4 ,but
 the ,sensitive is found without        
,reason1 as in the  beasts1 and in the  
birds1 and in the fishes1 and in any    
brute animal1  as we see4 ,and that     
,soul which contains all these powers is
 the most  perfect of all4 ,and the     
,human ,soul possessing the nobility of 
the  highest power1 which is ,reason1   
participates in the ,divine ,nature1    
after the manner of an eternal          

,intelligence3 for the ,soul is ennobled
  and denuded of matter by that         
,sovereign ,power in proportion as the  
,divine ,light of ,truth shines into it1
 as into an ,angel2 and ,man is         
therefore called by the ,philosophers   
the ,divine ,animal4    ,in this most   
noble part of the ,soul are many        
virtues1 as the  ,philosopher says1     
especially in the third chapter of the  
,soul1 where  he says that there is in  
it a virtue which is called ,scientific1
 and  one which is called               
,ratiocinative1 or rather deliberative2 
and with  this there are certain        
virtues1 as ,aristotle says in that same
 place1  such as the ,inventive and the 
,judging4 ,and all these most noble     
virtues1 and the others which are in    
that excellent power1 are  designated by
 that one word1 which we sought to      
understand1 that is1  ,mind4 ,wherefore 
it is evident that by ,mind is meant the
 highest1  noblest part of a man's      
,soul4    ,and it is seen to be so1 for 

only of man and of the ,divine          
substances  is this ,mind predicated1 as
 can plainly be seen in ,boethius1 who  
first  predicates it of men1 where he   
says to ,philosophy3 ,thou1 and ,god who
  placed thee in the mind of men2 then  
he predicates it of ,god1 when he  says3
 ,thou dost produce everything from the 
,divine ,model1 ,thou most  beautiful   
,one1 bearing the beautiful ,world in   
,thy mind4 ,neither was  it ever        
predicated of brute animals2 nay1 of    
many men who appear  defective in the   
most perfect part1 it does not seem that
 it ought to  be1 or that it could be1  
predicated2 and therefore such as these 
are  termed in the ,latin ,tongue amenti
 and dementi1 that is1  without mind4   
,hence one can now perceive that it is  
,mind which is the  perfect and most    
precious part of the ,soul in which is  
,god4    ,and that is the place where ,i
 say that ,love discourses to me of my  
,lady4          ,,chapter ,,iii4        
,not without cause do ,i say that this  

,love was at work in my mind2 but  it is
 said reasonably1 in order to explain   
what this ,love is1 by the  place in    
which it works4 ,wherefore1 it is to be 
known that each thing1  as is said      
above1 for the reason shown above1 has  
its especial ,love1  as the simple      
bodies have ,love1 innate1 each in its  
proper place4  ,therefore the ,earth    
always descends to the centre1 the fire 
to the  circumference above near the    
,heaven of the ,moon1 and always ascends
  towards that4 ,the bodies first       
composed1 such as are the minerals1     
have love for the place where their     
generation is ordained1 and in  which   
they increase1 and from which they have 
vigour and power4  ,wherefore1 we see   
the loadstone always receive power from 
the place of  its generation4 ,each of  
the plants which are first animated1    
that is1  first animated with a         
vegetative soul has most evident love   
for a  particular place1 according as   
its nature may require2 and therefore   

we see certain plants almost always grow
 by the side of the streams1  and       
certain others upon the mountain tops1  
and certain others grow by  the         
sea-shore1 or at the foot of hills1     
which1 if they are  transplanted1 either
 die entirely or live a sad life1 as it 
were1 like  a being separated from his  
friend4 ,the brute beasts have a most   
evident love1 not only for places1 but  
we see also their love towards  each    
other4 ,men have their own love for     
things perfect and excellent2  and since
 ,man1 although his ,soul is one        
substance alone1 because of  his        
nobility1 partakes of the nature of each
 of these things1 he can  possess all   
these affections1 and he does possess   
them all4 ,by his  part in the nature of
 the simple body1 as earth1 naturally it
 tends  downwards2 therefore1 when he   
moves his body upwards1 he becomes more 
weary4    ,because of the second nature1
 of the mixed body1 it loves the place  
of  its generation1 and even the time2  

and therefore each one naturally is  of 
more power in his own place and in his  
own time than in any other4  ,wherefore1
 one reads in the ,history of ,hercules1
 and in the greater  ,ovid1 and in      
,lucan1 and in other ,poets1 that when  
fighting with the  ,giant who was named 
,antus1 every time that the ,giant was  
weary1 and  laid his body down on the   
earth at full length1 either by the will
 or  strength of ,hercules1 new strength
 and vigour then surged up in him1      
drawn wholly from the ,earth1 in which  
and from which he was produced2         
,hercules1 perceiving this1 at last     
seized him1 and having compressed  and  
raised him above the ,earth1 he held him
 so tightly1 without  allowing him to   
touch the ,earth again1 that he         
conquered ,antus by  excess of strength1
 and killed him4 ,according to the      
testimony of the  books1 this battle    
took place in ,africa4    ,and because  
of the third nature1 that is1 of the    
plants1 ,man has a  love for a certain  

food1 not inasmuch as it affects the    
senses1 but in  so much as it is        
nutritious2 and that particular food    
does the work of  that most perfect     
,nature1 while certain other food1      
dissimilar1 acts  but imperfectly4 ,and 
therefore we see that certain food will 
make men  handsome1 and strong-limbed1  
and very brightly coloured1 and certain 
other food will do the opposite of this4
    ,and by the fourth nature1 of the   
animals1 that is1 the sensitive1 ,man   
has the other love1 by which he loves   
according to the sensible  appearance1  
like the beasts2 and this love in ,man  
especially has need  of control1 because
 of its excessive operation in the      
delights given1  especially through     
sight and touch4    ,and because of the 
fifth and last nature1 which is the true
 ,human  ,nature1 and1 to use a better  
phrase1 the ,angelic1 namely1 the       
,rational1 ,man has by it the ,love of  
,truth and ,virtue2 and from this  ,love
 is born true and perfect friendship    

from the honest intercourse  of which   
the ,philosopher speaks in the eighth   
book of the ,ethics1 when  he treats of 
,friendship4    ,wherefore1 since this  
nature is termed ,mind1 as is proved    
above1 ,i  spoke of ,love as discoursing
 in my ,mind in order to explain that   
this  ,love was the ,friendship which is
 born of that most noble nature1 that   
is1 of ,truth and ,virtue1 and to       
exclude each false opinion1 by which  my
 ,love might be suspected to spring from
 pleasure of the ,senses4    ,i then    
say1 ,with constant pleasure1 to make   
people understand its  continuance and  
its fervour4 ,and ,i say that it often  
whispers ,things  over which the        
intellect may stray4 ,and ,i speak      
truth1 because my  thoughts1 when       
reasoning of her1 often sought to draw  
conclusions of  her1 which ,i could not 
comprehend1 and ,i was alarmed1 so that 
,i seemed  almost like one dazed1 even  
as he who1 looking with the eye along a 
direct line1 sees first the nearest     

things clearly2 then1 proceeding1  it   
sees them less clearly2 then1 further   
on1 doubtfully2 then1  proceeding an    
immense way1 the sight is divided from  
the object1 and  sees nothing4 ,and this
 is one unspeakable thing of that which 
,i have  taken for a theme2 and         
consequently ,i relate the other when ,i
 say3        ,his words make music of so
 sweet a kind        ,that the ,soul    
hears and feels1 and cries1 ,ah1 me1    
,that ,i want power to tell what thus ,i
 see6    ,and because ,i know not how to
 tell it1 ,i say that my soul laments1  
saying1 ,ah1 me1 that ,i want power4    
,and this is the other unspeakable      
thing1 that the tongue is not a complete
 and perfect follower of all  that the  
intellect sees4 ,and ,i say1 ,that the  
,soul hears and feels2  hearing1 as to  
the words1 and feeling1 as to the       
sweetness of the  sound4                
,,chapter ,,iv4      ,now that the two  
ineffable parts of this matter have been
 discussed1  we must proceed to discuss 

words that describe my insufficiency4   
,i say1 then1 that my insufficiency     
arises from a double cause1 even as  in 
a twofold manner the exalted nature of  
my ,lady surpasses all1 in  the way     
which has been told4 ,for ,i am         
compelled1 by the poverty of my         
intellect1 to omit much of the truth    
concerning her which shone into  my mind
 like rays of light1 but which my mind  
receives like a  transparent body1      
unable to gather up the ends thereof and
 reflect  them back4 ,and this ,i       
express in that following part3 ,first1 
all that  ,reason cannot make its own ,i
 needs must leave4 ,then1 when ,i say1  
,and  of what can be known1 ,i say that 
not even to that which ,i do  understand
 am ,i sufficient1 because my tongue is 
not so eloquent that  it could tell that
 which is discoursed in my thoughts     
concerning her4  ,it may be seen1       
therefore1 that1 with respect to the    
,truth1 it is very  little that ,i shall
 say2 and this redounds to her great    

praise1 if  well considered1 in that    
which was the main intention4 ,and it is
  possible to say that this form of     
speech came indeed from the workshop  of
 ,rhetoric1 which on every side lays its
 hand upon the main  intention4 ,then1  
when it says1 ,if my ,song fail1 ,i     
excuse myself for  my fault1 which ought
 not1 then1 to be blamed when others see
 that my  words are far below the       
dignity of this ,lady4 ,and ,i say that1
 if the  defect is in my rhymes1 that   
is1 in my words1 which are appointed to 
discourse of her1 for this are to be    
blamed the weakness of the  intellect   
and the abruptness of our speech3 blame 
wit and words1  which are overpowered by
 the thought1 so that they cannot follow
 it  entirely1 especially there where   
the thought is born of love1 because    
there the ,soul searches more deeply    
than elsewhere4 ,it would be quite      
possible for any one to say3 ,thou dost 
excuse and accuse thyself all  in one   
breath1 which is a reason for blame1 not

 for escape from blame1  inasmuch as the
 blame1 which is mine1 is cast on the   
intellect and on  the speech2 for1 if it
 be good1 ,i ought to be praised for it 
in so  much as it is so2 and if it be   
defective1 ,i ought to be blamed4 ,to   
this it is possible to reply1 briefly1  
that ,i do not accuse myself1  but that 
,i excuse myself in truth4 ,and         
therefore it is to be known1  according 
to the opinion of the ,philosopher in   
the third book of the  ,ethics1 that man
 is worthy of praise or of blame only in
 those things  which it is in his power 
to do or not to do2 but in those things 
over  which he has no power he deserves 
neither blame nor praise1 since  either 
the praise or blame is to be attributed 
to some other1 although  the things may 
be parts of the man himself4 ,therefore1
 we ought not to  blame the man because 
his body1 from his birth1 may be ugly1  
since it  was not in his power to make  
it beautiful2 but our blame should fall 
on the evil disposition of the matter   

whereof he is made1 whose source  was a 
defect of ,nature4 ,and even so we ought
 not to praise the man for  the beauty  
of form which he may have from his      
birth1 for he was not  the maker of it2 
but we ought to praise the artificer1   
that is1 ,human  ,nature1 who shapes her
 material into so much beauty when she  
is not  impeded4 ,and therefore the     
priest said well to the ,emperor who    
laughed  and scoffed at the ugliness of 
his body3 ,the ,lord1 ,he is ,god3 ,it  
is  ,he that hath made us1 and not we   
ourselves2 and these are the words  of  
the ,prophet in a verse of the ,psalms1 
written neither more nor less  than     
according to the reply of the ,priest4  
,and therefore let the wicked evil-born 
ones perceive that1 if they put  their  
chief care in the adornment of their    
persons1 it must be with  all modesty2  
for to do that is no other than to adorn
 the work of  another1 that is1 ,nature1
 and to abandon their own proper work4  
,returning1 then1 to the proposition1 ,i

 say that our intellect1 through  defect
 of the power through which it sees     
organic power1 that is1 the             
imagination1 is not able to ascend to   
certain things1 because the  imagination
 cannot help it and has not the         
wherewithal1 such as are  the substances
 apart from matter1 which 7if we can    
have any knowledge  of them7 we cannot  
fully comprehend4    ,and the man is not
 to blame for this1 because he was not  
the maker of  this defect2 nay1         
,universal ,nature did this1 which is   
,god1 who wills  that in this life we be
 without this light4 ,and because ,he   
was the  cause1 it would be presumptuous
 to argue concerning it4 ,so that if my 
earnest thought transported me into a   
place where my imagination  failed my   
intellect1 ,i was not to blame if ,i    
could not possibly  understand4         
,again1 a bound is set to our           
understanding in each operation thereof2
  but not by us1 but by ,universal      
,nature2 and therefore it is to be      

known that the bounds of the            
understanding are wider in thought than 
in speech1 and wider in speech than in  
signs4 ,hence1 if our thought1  not only
 that which fails in a perfect          
intellect1 but also that which  in a    
perfect intellect attains its end1 is   
the conqueror of speech1 we  are not to 
blame1 because we are not the makers of 
it4 ,and therefore ,i  prove that ,i do 
truthfully excuse myself when ,i say3   
,blame wit and  words1 whose force      
,fails to tell all that ,i hear ,love   
discourse2 for1  sufficiently clear     
ought to appear the good-will1 which    
alone we  should regard in respect to   
merits that are human4    ,and thus is  
now explained the first principal part  
of this ,song which  flows from my hand4
          ,,chapter ,v4      ,discourse 
on the first part of the ,song has now  
made its meaning open  and clear1 and it
 is needful to proceed to the second2   
for the clearer  perception of which1   
three divisions are desirable1 according

 as it is  contained in three sections4 
,for in the first part ,i praise that   
,lady  entirely and generally1 as in the
 ,soul so in the body2 in the second    
part ,i descend to especial commendation
 of the ,soul2 and in the third1  to    
especial praise of the body4 ,the first 
part begins3 ,the ,sun sees  not in     
travel round the earth2 the second      
begins3 ,her ,maker saw that  she was   
good2 the third begins3 ,rain from her  
beauty little flames  of fire1 and these
 parts or divisions in due order are to 
be  discussed4    ,i say then3 ,the ,sun
 sees not in travel round the earth2    
where it is  to be known1 in order to   
have perfect understanding thereof1 how 
the  ,earth is circled round by the     
,sun4 ,in the first place1 ,i say that  
by  the ,earth ,i do not here mean the  
whole body of the ,universe1 but only   
that part of the sea and land1 following
 the common speech1 which is  thus wont 
to designate it1 whereupon some one     
exclaims1 ,this man has  seen all the   

,world1 meaning this part of the sea and
 land4 ,this  ,world ,pythagoras and his
 followers asserted to be one of the    
stars1  and they also said that there   
was another opposite to it1 similar to  
it3 and they called that one ,antictona2
 and he said that both were in  one     
sphere which revolved from ,east to     
,west1 and by this revolution  the ,sun 
was circled round us1 and now he was    
seen1 and now he was not  seen4 ,and he 
said that the fire was in the centre of 
these1  considering the fire to be a    
more noble body than the water and than 
the ,earth1 and giving the noblest      
centre to the four simple bodies2 he    
said that the fire1 when it appeared to 
ascend1 according to strict  truth      
descended to the centre4 ,then ,plato   
was of another opinion1 and  he wrote in
 a book of his1 which he called ,timus1 
that the ,earth with  the sea was indeed
 the centre of all1 but that its whole  
sphere  revolved round its centre1      
following the first movement of the     

,heavens1 but much slower on account of 
its gross material1 and because  of the 
immense distance from that first moved4 
,these opinions are  confuted in the    
second chapter1 ,of ,heaven and the     
,world1 by that  glorious ,philosopher1 
to whom ,nature opened her secrets most 
freely2  and by him it is therein proved
 that this ,world1 the ,earth1 is of    
itself stable and fixed to all eternity4
 ,and his reasons1 which  ,aristotle    
states in order to break those other    
opinions and to affirm  the truth1 it is
 not my intention here to narrate2      
therefore1 let it  be enough for those  
to whom ,i speak1 to know1 upon his     
great  authority1 that this ,earth is   
fixed1 and does not revolve1 and that   
it1 with the sea1 is the centre of the  
,heavens4 ,these ,heavens revolve  round
 this centre continuously1 even as we   
see2 in which revolution  there must of 
necessity be two fixed ,poles1 and a    
circle equally  distant from these round
 which all especially revolves4 ,of     

these two  ,poles1 the one is visible to
 almost all the discovered ,earth1 that 
is1  the ,northern ,pole2 the other is  
hidden from almost all the discovered   
,earth1 that is1 the ,southern ,pole4   
,the circle spread from them is that    
part of ,heaven under which the ,sun    
revolves when it is in ,aries and       
,libra4 ,wherefore1 it is to be known   
that if a stone could fall from  this   
,pole of ours1 it would fall there      
beyond into the sea precisely  upon that
 surface of the sea1 where1 if a man    
could be1 he would  always have the ,sun
 above the middle of his head2 and ,i   
believe that  from ,rome to that place1 
going in a straight line to the ,north1 
the  distance may be almost two thousand
 seven hundred miles1 or a little  more 
or less4 ,imagining1 then1 in order to  
understand better what ,i  say1 that    
there is in that place a city1 and that 
its name may be  ,maria1 ,i say again   
that if from the other ,pole1 that is1  
the ,southern1  a stone could fall1 that

 it would fall upon that part of the    
ocean  which is precisely on this ball  
opposite to ,maria2 and ,i believe that 
from ,rome to where this second stone   
would fall1 going in a direct  line to  
the ,south1 the distance may be seven   
thousand five hundred  miles1 a little  
more or less4 ,and here let us imagine  
another city1  which may have the name  
of ,lucia2 and the distance1 from       
whatever part  one draws the line1 is   
ten thousand two hundred miles between  
the one  and the other1 that is1 half   
the circumference of this ball1 so that 
the citizens of ,maria hold the soles of
 the feet opposite the soles of  the    
feet of the citizens of ,lucia4 ,let us 
imagine also a circle upon  this ball   
which is in every part equi-distant from
 ,maria as from  ,lucia4 ,i believe that
 this circle1 according to what ,i      
understand by  the assertions of the    
,astrologers1 and by that of ,albertus  
,magnus in  his book ,on the ,nature of 
,places and on the ,properties of the   

,elements1 and also by the testimony of 
,lucan in his ninth book1 would  divide 
this ,earth uncovered by the sea in the 
,meridian1 almost through  all the      
extreme end of the first climate1 where 
there are amongst the  other people the 
,garamanti1 who are almost always naked2
 to whom came  ,cato with the people of 
,rome when flying from the dominion of  
,csar4  ,having marked out these three  
places upon this ball1 one can easily   
see how the ,sun circles round it4    ,i
 say1 then1 that the ,heaven of the ,sun
 revolves from ,west to ,east1  not     
directly against the diurnal movement1  
that is1 of the day and  night1 but     
obliquely against that1 so that its     
mid-circle1 which is  equally between   
its ,poles1 in which is the body of the 
,sun1 cuts into  two opposite parts the 
circle of the two first ,poles1 in the  
beginning  of ,aries and in the         
beginning of ,libra2 and it is divided  
by two arcs  from it1 one towards the   
,north and one towards the ,south2 the  

points  of these two said arcs are      
equi-distant from the first circle in   
every  part by twenty-three degrees and 
one point more1 and the one point is    
the tropic of ,cancer1 and the other is 
the tropic of ,capricorn2  therefore it 
must be that ,maria in the sign of      
,aries can see1 when the  ,sun sinks    
below the mid-circle of the first       
,poles1 this ,sun to revolve  round the 
,earth below1 or rather the sea1 like a 
millstone1 of which  only one half of   
its body appears1 and can see this come 
rising up  after the manner of the screw
 of a vine-press1 so much so that it    
completes ninety-one rotations1 or a    
little more4 ,when these rotations  are 
completed1 its ascension is to ,maria   
almost as much in proportion  as it     
ascends to us in the half-third1 that   
is1 of the equal day and  night2 and if 
a man could stand in ,maria1 with his   
face always turned  to the ,sun1 he     
would see that ,sun pass by on the      
right4 ,then by the  same way it seems  

to descend another ninety-one rotations1
 or a little  more1 so much so that it  
circles round below the ,earth1 or      
rather sea1  not showing the whole of   
itself2 and then it is hidden1 and      
,lucia  begins to see it1 which1 the    
same as ,maria1 then sees it to ascend  
and  to descend around itself with the  
same number of rotations4 ,and if a  man
 could stand in ,lucia1 with his face   
always turned towards the ,sun1  he     
would see it pass to the left4          
,therefore1 it is possible to see  that 
these places have in the year one day of
 six months' duration1  and one night of
 the same length of time2 and when one  
has the day the  other has the night4   
,it must be also that the circle where  
the ,garamanti are1 as has been  said   
above1 upon this ball1 can see the ,sun 
revolve precisely above  them1 not after
 the fashion of a mill-stone1 but of a  
wheel1 which  cannot in any part be seen
 except the centre1 when it goes under  
,aries4 ,and then it is seen to depart  

from its place immediately above  and go
 towards ,maria ninety-one days1 or a   
little more1 and by so many  to return  
to its position2 and then1 when it has  
turned back1 it goes  before ,libra1 and
 even so departs and goes towards ,lucia
 ninety-one  days1 or a little more1 and
 in so many returns to its position4    
,and  this place always has the day     
equal with the night1 either on this    
side or on that1 as the ,sun goes1 and  
twice a year it has the summer  of      
intense heat1 and two little winters4   
,it must also be that the two           
distances1 which are midway from the two
 imaginary ,cities and the  mid-circle1 
see the ,sun variously1 according as    
they are remote from1  and near to1     
these places4    ,now1 by what has been 
said1 this can be seen by him who has   
good  understanding1 to which it is well
 to give a little fatigue4 ,he can  now 
perceive that1 by the ,divine           
,providence1 the ,world is so ordained  
that the sphere of the ,sun1 being      

revolved and turned round to one  point1
 this ball whereon we are in every part 
receives an equal share  of light and   
darkness4 ,oh1 ineffable ,wisdom1 ,thou 
which didst thus  ordain6 ,oh1 how poor 
and feeble is our mind when seeking to  
comprehend  ,thee6 ,and you1 ,o men1 for
 whose benefit and pleasure ,i write1 in
 what  fearful blindness do you live if 
you never raise your eyes upwards to    
these things1 but keep them fixed in the
 mud of your foolishness4               
,,chapter ,,vi4      ,in the preceding  
chapter is shown after what manner the  
,sun travels  round the ,earth2 so that 
now one can proceed to demonstrate the  
meaning of the part to which this       
thought belongs4 ,i say1 then1 that  in 
that first part ,i begin to praise that 
,lady by comparison with  other things4 
,and ,i say that the ,sun1 circling     
round the ,earth1 sees  nothing so      
gentle as that ,lady2 wherefore it      
follows that she is1  according to the  
letter1 the most gentle of all things   

that the sun  shines upon4 ,and it says3
 ,till the hour2 wherefore it is to be  
known  that hour is understood in two   
ways by the ,astrologers4 ,the one is1  
that of the day and of the night they   
make twenty-four hours--twelve  of the  
day1 twelve of the night1 however long  
or short the day may be4  ,and these    
hours are short and long in the day and 
night according as  the day and night   
increase and diminish4 ,and these hours 
the ,church  uses when it says1 ,prima1 
,tertia1 ,sexta1 and ,nona--first1      
third1  sixth1 and ninth2 and these are 
termed hours temporal4 ,the other mode  
is1 that1 making of the day and of the  
night twenty-four hours1 the  day       
sometimes has fifteen hours and the     
night nine2 and sometimes the  night has
 sixteen and the day eight1 according as
 the day and night  increase and        
diminish2 and they term these hours     
equal at the  ,equinox1 and those that  
are termed temporal are always the same1
  because1 the day being equal to the   

night1 it must happen thus4    ,then    
when ,i say1 ,all ,minds of ,heaven     
wonder at her worth1 ,i praise  her1 not
 having respect to any other thing4 ,and
 ,i say that the  ,intelligences of     
,heaven behold her1 and that the people 
here below  think of that gentle ,lady  
when they have more of that peace which 
delights them4 ,and here it is to be    
known that each ,mind or ,intellect  in 
,heaven above1 according to that which  
is written in the book ,of  ,causes1    
knows that which is above itself and    
that which is below  itself2 therefore  
it knows ,god as its ,cause2 therefore  
it knows that  which is below itself as 
its effect4    ,and since ,god is the   
most universal cause of everything1 to  
know ,him  is to know all1 according to 
the degree of the ,intelligence2        
wherefore  all the ,intelligences know  
the human form in as far as it is by    
intention fixed or determined in the    
,divine ,mind4 ,the moving              
,intelligences especially know it2 since

 they are the most especial  causes of  
it1 and of every kind of form2 and they 
know the most  perfect1 as far as they  
can know it1 as their rule and pattern4 
,and if this human form1 copied and     
individualized1 is not perfect1 it  is  
not the fault of the said copy or image1
 but of the matter from  which the      
individual is formed4 ,therefore when ,i
 say1 ,all ,minds in  ,heaven wonder at 
her worth1 ,i wish to express no other  
than that she  is thus made1 even as the
 express image of the human form in the 
,divine ,mind4 ,and each ,mind there    
above beholds her by virtue of that     
quality which exists especially in those
 angelic ,minds which build up  and     
shape1 with ,heaven1 things that exist  
below4 ,and to confirm this1  ,i subjoin
 when ,i say1 ,mortals1 enamoured1 find 
her in their thought  ,when ,love his   
peace into their minds has brought1     
where it is to be  known that each thing
 especially desires its perfection1 and 
in that  its every desire finds peace   

and calm1 and for that peace each thing 
is desired4    ,and this is that desire 
which always makes every pleasure appear
  incomplete1 for there is no joy or    
pleasure so great in this life that  it 
can quench the thirst in our ,soul1 for 
always the desire for that  perfection  
remains in the ,mind4 ,and since this   
,lady is truly that  perfection1 ,i say 
that people here below receive great    
delight when  they have most peace2 for 
she abides then in their thoughts4 ,for 
this  ,lady1 ,i say1 is perfect in as   
high a degree as it is possible for     
,human ,nature to be4    ,then when ,i  
say1 ,her ,maker saw that she was good1 
,i prove that not  only this ,lady is   
the most perfect in the human race1 but 
more than  the most perfect1 inasmuch as
 she receives from the ,divine ,goodness
  more than human dues4 ,wherefore one  
can reasonably believe that as  each    
,master loves most his best work far    
more than the other work1 so  ,god loves
 the good human being far above the     

rest4 ,and forasmuch as  ,his ,bounty is
 of necessity not restricted by any     
limit1 ,his love has  no regard to the  
amount due to him who receives1 but it  
overflows in  gifts1 and in the         
blessings of power and grace4 ,wherefore
 ,i say here1  that this ,god1 who gave 
life or being to this ,lady1 through    
love or  charity for her perfection     
pours into her of ,his ,bounty beyond   
the  limits of the amount due to our    
nature4    ,then when ,i say1 ,on her   
pure soul1 ,i prove this that has been  
said  with reasonable testimony1 which  
gives us to know that1 as the           
,philosopher says in the second chapter1
 ,on the ,soul1 the ,soul is the  act of
 the ,body2 and if it be its act1 it is 
its ,cause2 and as it is  written in the
 book before1 quoted1 ,on ,causes1 each 
,cause infuses into  its effect some of 
the goodness which it receives from its 
own ,cause1  which is ,god4 ,wherefore1 
since in her are seen wonderful things1 
so  much so on the part of the body that

 they make each beholder desirous  to   
see those things1 it is evident that her
 form1 which is her ,soul1  guides it as
 its proper ,cause and receives         
miraculously the gracious  goodness of  
,god4    ,and thus is proved1 by that   
appearance1 which exceeds the due       
appointment of our nature1 which in her 
is most perfect1 as has been  said      
above1 that this ,lady is by ,god       
endowed with good gifts and made  a     
noble thing4 ,and this is the whole     
,literal meaning of the first  section  
of the second principal part4           
,,chapter ,,vii4      ,having commended 
this ,lady generally1 both according to 
the ,soul and  according to the ,body1  
,i proceed to praise her specially      
according to  the ,soul4    ,and first  
,i praise her ,soul for its goodness1   
that is great in itself2  then ,i       
commend it for a goodness that is great 
in others1 and useful  to the ,world4   
,and that second part begins when ,i    
say1 firstly1 ,on her  fair frame       

,virtue ,divine descends2 where it is to
 be known that the  ,divine ,goodness   
descends into all things1 and otherwise 
they could not  exist2 but1 although    
this goodness springs from the ,first   
,cause1 it is  received diversely1      
according to the more or less of virtue 
in the  recipients4 ,wherefore it is    
written in the book ,of ,causes3 ,the   
,first  ,goodness sends ,his good gifts 
forth upon things in one stream4 ,verily
  each thing receives from this stream  
according to the manner of its  virtue  
and its being4 ,and we can have a       
sensible1 living example of  this in the
 ,sun4 ,we see the light of the ,sun1   
which is one thing1  derived from one   
fountain1 to be variously received by   
material  substances2 as ,albertus      
,magnus says in his book ,on the        
,intellect1 that  certain bodies1       
through having mixed in themselves an   
excess of  transparent brightness1 so   
soon as the ,sun sees them they become  
so  bright that1 by the multiplication  

of light within them1 their aspect  is  
hardly discernible1 and from themselves 
they render back to others  great       
splendour or brilliancy1 such as is gold
 and any gem4 ,sure ,i am  that by being
 entirely transparent1 not only do they 
receive the  light1 but that they do not
 intercept it2 nay1 they pass it on1    
like  stained glass1 coloured with their
 own colour1 to other things4 ,and      
there are certain other bodies so       
overpowering in the purity of the       
transparency that they become so radiant
 as to overpower the  adjustments of the
 eye1 and you cannot look at them       
without fatigue of  sight2 such as are  
the mirrors4 ,certain others are so free
 from  transparency1 that but little    
light can they receive2 as is the       
,earth4  ,thus the ,goodness of ,god is 
received in sundrywise by the sundry    
substances1 that is1 in one way by the  
,angels1 who are without  grossness of  
matter1 as if transparent through their 
purity of form2  and otherwise by the   

human ,soul1 which although on one side 
it may be  free from matter1 on another 
side it is impeded3 even as the man who 
is all in the water but his head1 of    
whom one cannot say that he is  entirely
 in the water1 or entirely out of it4   
,again otherwise it is  received by the 
animals1 whose soul is wholly comprised 
in matter2 but  ,i say that the soul of 
animals receives of the ,goodness of    
,god in  proportion as it is ennobled4  
,again otherwise is it received by the  
minerals2 and otherwise by the ,earth1  
than by the others1 because the  ,earth 
is most material1 and therefore most    
remote1 and most out of all  proportion 
to the ,first most simple and most high 
,cause1 which is  alone ,intellectual1  
that is to say1 ,god4    ,and although  
here below there may be placed general  
degrees of  excellence1 nevertheless1   
singular degrees of excellence may also 
be  placed2 that is to say1 that amongst
 human ,souls one ,soul may receive     
more bountifully than another4 ,and     

since in the intellectual order of  the 
,universe one ascends and descends by   
degrees almost continuous  from the     
lowest form to the highest1 and from the
 highest to the  lowest1 as we see in   
the visible order of things2 and between
 the  ,angelic ,nature1 which is        
intellectual1 and the ,human ,soul there
 may be  no step1 but the one rise to   
the other as it were continuously       
through  the height of the degrees2 and 
from the ,human ,soul and the most      
perfect soul of the brute animals1      
again1 there may not be any break  in   
the descent4 ,for as we see many men so 
vile and of such low  condition that it 
seems almost that it can be no other    
than bestial1  so it is to be asserted  
and firmly believed that there may be   
some men  so noble and of a condition so
 exalted that it can be no other than   
that of the ,angel4 ,otherwise the human
 species could not be continued  on     
every side1 which cannot be4 ,such as   
these ,aristotle calls1 in the  seventh 

book of the ,ethics1 ,divine2 and such a
 one ,i say that this  ,lady is1 so that
 the ,divine ,virtue1 after the manner  
that it descends  into the ,angel1      
descends into her4    ,then when ,i say1
 ,fair one who doubt1 ,i prove this by  
the experience  that it is possible to  
have of it in those operations which are
 proper  to the rational ,soul1 wherein 
the ,divine ,light shines forth more    
quickly1 that is1 in the speech and in  
the actions1 which are wont to  be      
termed conduct and deportment4          
,wherefore it is to be known that  only 
man amongst the animals speaks1 and has 
conduct and acts which  are called      
rational1 because he alone has ,reason  
in himself4 ,and if  any one might wish 
to say1 in contradiction1 that a certain
 bird can  speak1 as appears true1      
especially of the magpie and of the     
parrot2  and that some beast performs   
acts1 or rather things1 by rule1 as     
appears in the ape and in some other2 ,i
 reply that it is not true that  they   

speak1 nor that they have rules1 because
 they have not ,reason1  from which     
these things must proceed2 neither is   
there in them the  principle of these   
operations2 neither do they know what   
that is2  neither do they understand    
that by those acts something is         
intended2  but that only which they see 
and hear they represent1 even as the    
image of somebody may be reflected in a 
glass4 ,wherefore1 as in the  mirror the
 corporal image which the mirror shows  
is not true1 so the  image of ,reason1  
in the acts and the speech which the    
brute soul  represents1 or rather shows1
 is not true4 ,i say that what gentle   
,lady  soever doubts should go with her1
 mark the grace ,in all her acts4 ,i  do
 not say man1 because one can derive    
experience more modestly from  the woman
 than from the man2 and ,i say she will 
find that ,downward  from ,heaven bends 
,an angel when she speaks4 ,for her     
speech1 because  of its exalted         
character and because of its sweetness1 

kindles in the  mind of him who hears it
 a thought of ,love1 which ,i call a    
celestial  ,spirit2 since from ,heaven  
is the source and from ,heaven the      
intention  thereof1 as has been already 
narrated4 ,from which thought ,i pass to
 a  firm opinion that this ,lady is of  
miraculous power1 that there is ,a      
power in her by none of us possessed4   
,her actions1 by their suavity  and by  
their moderation1 ,rival in calls to    
,love that ,love must hear4  ,they cause
 ,love to awaken and again to hear      
whenever he is sown by the  power of    
bountiful ,nature4 ,which natural seed  
acts as in the next  treatise is shown4 
,then when ,i say1 ,fair in all like    
her1 fairest she'll appear ,who is  most
 like her1 ,i intend to narrate how the 
goodness and the power of  her soul are 
good and useful to others2 and1 firstly1
 how useful it is  to other women1      
saying that she is ,fair in all like    
her1 where ,i  present a clear or bright
 example to the women1 from gazing at   

which  they can make their beauty seem  
gentle in following the same4           
,secondly1 ,i relate how useful she is  
to all people1 saying that her  aspect  
assists our faith1 which is more useful 
to the whole ,human ,race  than all     
other things beside2 for it is that by  
which we escape from  ,eternal ,death   
and acquire ,eternal ,life2 and she     
assists our ,faith1 for  the first      
foundation of our ,faith is on the      
miracles performed by ,him  who was     
crucified1 who created our ,reason1 and 
willed that it should  be less than ,his
 power4 ,he performed these miracles1   
then1 in ,his own  name for ,his saints2
 and many men are so obstinate that they
 are in  doubt of those miracles if     
there be the least mist or cloud around 
them2 and they cannot believe any       
miracle unless they have visible        
experience of the same2 and this ,lady  
is a thing visibly miraculous1  of which
 the eyes of men daily can have         
experience1 and which can make  the     

other miracles appear possible to us4   
,wherefore it is manifest  that this    
,lady1 with her marvellous aspect1      
assists our ,faith4 ,and1  therefore1   
finally ,i say3                         
,we1 content to call      ,her face a   
,miracle1 have ,faith made sure3        
,for that ,god made her ever to endure4 
,and thus ends the second section of the
 second principal part of the  ,song    
according to its ,literal meaning4      
,,chapter ,,viii4      ,amongst the     
,works of ,divine ,wisdom1 ,man is the  
most wonderful1  considering how in one 
form the ,divine ,power joined three    
natures2 and  in such a form how subtly 
harmonized his body must be4 ,it is     
organized  for all his distinct powers2 
wherefore1 because of the great concord 
there must be1 among so many organs1 to 
secure their perfect response  to each  
other1 in all the multitude of men but  
few are perfect4 ,and if  this ,creature
 is so wonderful1 certainly it is a     
dread thing to  discourse of his        

conditions1 not only in words1 but even 
in thought4  ,so that to this apply     
those words of ,ecclesiastes3 ,i beheld 
all the  ,work of ,god1 that a ,man     
cannot find out the ,work that is done  
under  the ,sun4 ,and those other words 
there1 where he says3 ,let not thine    
heart be hasty to utter anything before 
,god3 for ,god is in ,heaven1 and  thou 
upon ,earth3 therefore let thy words be 
few4 ,i1 then1 who in this  third       
section intend to speak of a certain    
condition of such a  creature1 inasmuch 
as1 through the goodness of the ,soul1  
visible  beauty appears in his body1 ,i 
begin timorously uncertain1 intending1  
if not fully1 at least partially1 to    
untie such a knot as this4 ,i say1      
then1 that since the meaning of that    
section is clear1 wherein this  ,lady is
 praised on the part of the ,soul1 we   
are now to proceed and to  see how it is
 when ,i say3 ,her aspect shows delights
 of ,paradise4 ,i  praise her on the    
part of the body1 and ,i say that in her

 aspect  bright gleams appear which show
 us pleasant things1 and amongst others 
those of ,paradise4    ,the most noble  
state of all1 and that which is the     
crown of every  good1 is to be at peace 
within one's self2 and this is to be    
happy4  ,and this content is truly      
7although in another manner7 in her     
aspect2  so that1 by looking at her1 the
 people find peace1 so sweetly does her 
,beauty feed the eyes of the beholders2 
but in another way1 for the  ,peace that
 is perpetual in ,paradise is not       
attainable by any man4    ,and since    
some one might ask where this wonderful 
content appears in  this ,lady1 ,i      
distinguish in her person two parts1 in 
which human  pleasure and displeasure   
most appear4 ,wherefore it is to be     
known that  in whatever part the ,soul  
most fulfils its office1 it strives most
  earnestly to adorn that part1 and     
there it does its work most subtly4     
,wherefore we see that in the ,face of  
,man1 where it fulfils its office  more 

than in any other outward part1 it works
 so subtly that1 by  making itself      
subtle therein as much as its material  
permits1 it  causes that no face is like
 another1 because its utmost power over 
matter1 which is dissimilar in almost   
all1 is there brought into  action2 and 
because in the face the ,soul works     
especially in two  places1 as if in     
those two places all the three ,natures 
of the ,soul  had jurisdiction1 that is1
 in the ,eyes and in the ,mouth1 these  
it  chiefly adorns1 and there it spends 
its care to make all beautiful if  it   
can4 ,and in these two places ,i say    
that those pleasures of content  appear1
 saying3 ,seen in her eyes and in her   
smiling face2 the which  two places1 by 
means of a beautiful comparison1 may be 
designated the  balconies of the woman  
who dwells in the house of the body1 she
 being  the ,soul2 because there1       
although veiled1 as it were1 the ,soul  
often  shows itself4 ,the ,soul shows   
itself so evidently in the eyes that it 

is possible to know its present passion 
if you look attentively4    ,six        
passions are proper to the human ,soul  
of which the ,philosopher  makes mention
 in his ,rhetoric1 namely1 ,grace1      
,zeal1 ,mercy1 ,envy1 ,love1  and       
,shame2 and with whichever of these the 
,soul is impassioned1 there  comes into 
the window of the ,eyes the semblance of
 it1 unless it be  repressed within1 and
 shut from view by great power of will4 
,wherefore  some one formerly plucked   
out his eyes that an inward shame should
 not  appear without1 as ,statius the   
,poet says of the ,theban ,oedipus when 
he  says that with eternal night he     
loosed his damnd shame4    ,it reveals  
itself in the ,mouth1 like colour behind
 glass as it were4  ,and what is a smile
 or a laugh except a coruscation of the 
,soul's  delight1 a light shot outwardly
 from that which shines within8 ,and    
therefore it is right for a man to      
reveal his ,soul by a well-tempered     
cheerfulness1 smiling moderately with a 

due restraint1 and with slight  movement
 of the limbs2 so that the ,lady1 that  
is1 the ,soul1 which  then1 as has been 
said1 shows herself1 may appear modest1 
and not  dissolute4 ,therefore the book 
on the ,four ,cardinal ,virtues commands
 us  thus3 ,let thy smile be without    
loud laughter1 that is1 without         
cackling like a hen4    ,ah1 the sweet  
wonder of my ,lady's smile1 which is    
never seen but in  the eyes6    ,and ,i 
say of these delights seen in her eyes  
and smile3 ,love brought  them there as 
to his dwelling place2 where it is      
possible to consider  ,love in a twofold
 form4 ,first1 the ,love of the ,soul1  
peculiar or  proper to these places2    
secondly1 universal ,love1 which        
inclines  things to love and to be      
loved1 which ordains the ,soul to rule  
these  parts4    ,then1 when ,i say1    
,they dazzle ,reason1 ,i excuse myself  
for this1 that  it appears of such      
exceeding beauty that ,i can tell but   
little1 owing  to its overpowering      

force2 and ,i say that ,i can say but   
little  concerning it for two reasons4  
,the one is1 that those things which    
appear in her aspect overpower our      
intellect2 and ,i tell how this         
conquest is made3 that ,they dazzle     
,reason1 as sunbeams our eyes1  when the
 ,sun overpowers our feeble sight1 if   
not also the healthy and  the strong4   
,the other is1 that the man cannot look 
fixedly at it1  because the ,soul       
becomes inebriate therein2 so that      
incontinently1  after gazing thereat1 it
 fails in all its operations4    ,then1 
when ,i say1 ,rain from her beauty      
little flames of fire1 ,i  recur to     
discourse of its effect1 since to       
discourse entirely of it is  not        
possible4 ,wherefore it is to be known  
that all those things which  subdue our 
intellect1 so that it is unable to see  
what they are1 are  most suitably to be 
discussed in their effects2 wherefore of
 ,god1 and  of ,his separate substances1
 and of the first matter we can thus    

have  some knowledge4 ,and therefore ,i 
say that the beauty of that ,lady rains 
little flames of fire1 meaning the      
ardour of ,love and of ,charity1  ,made 
living with a spirit1 that is1 ,love    
informed by a gentle  spirit1 which is  
direct desire1 through which and from   
which to  create ,good thoughts2 and it 
not only does this1 but it crushes and  
destroys its opposite1 the innate vices 
which are especially the foes  of all   
good thoughts4    ,and here it is to be 
known that there are certain vices in   
the ,man to  which he is naturally      
disposed2 as certain men of a choleric  
complexion are disposed to anger3 and   
such vices as these are innate1  that   
is1 natural4 ,others are the vices of   
habit1 for which not the  complexion1   
but habit1 or custom1 is to blame2 such 
as intemperance1  and especially        
intemperance in wine4 ,but these vices  
are subdued and  put to flight by good  
habits1 and the man is made virtuous    
thereby  without finding fatigue in his 

moderation1 as the ,philosopher says in 
the second book of the ,ethics4 ,truly  
there is this difference between  the   
natural passions and the habitual1 that 
through use of good morals  the habitual
 entirely vanish1 because their origin1 
the evil habit1 is  destroyed by its    
opposite2 but the natural1 the source of
 which is in  the complexion of the     
passionate man1 although they may be    
made much  lighter by good morals1 yet  
they do not entirely disappear as far as
  regards the first cause1 but they     
almost wholly disappear in act1  because
 custom is not equal to nature1 which is
 the source of such a  passion4 ,and    
therefore the man is more praiseworthy  
who guides himself  and rules himself   
when he is of an evil disposition by    
nature1 in  opposition to natural       
impulse1 than he who1 being gifted with 
a good  disposition by nature1 carries  
himself naturally well2 as it is more   
praiseworthy to control a bad horse than
 one that is not troublesome4  ,i say1  

then1 that those little flames which    
rain down from her beauty  destroy the  
innate1 or the natural1 vices1 to make  
men understand that  her beauty has     
power to renew ,nature in those who     
behold it1 which is  a miraculous thing4
 ,and this confirms that which is       
observed above in  the other chapter    
when ,i say that she is the helper of   
our ,faith4    ,finally1 when ,i say1   
,lady1 who may desire ,escape from      
blame1 ,i  infer1 under pretext of      
admonishing another1 the end for which  
so much  beauty was made4 ,and ,i say   
that what lady believes her beauty to be
  open to blame through some defect1 let
 her look on this most perfect  example2
 where it is understood that it is      
designed not only to  improve and raise 
the good1 but also to convert evil to   
good4 ,and1  finally1 it is subjoined   
that she is ,god's thought1 that is1    
from  the ,mind of ,god4 ,and this to   
make men understand that1 by design of  
the ,creator1 ,nature is made to produce

 such an effect4    ,and thus ends the  
whole of the second chief part of the   
,song4          ,,chapter ,,ix4         
,the order of the present treatise      
requires1 after these two parts of  the 
,song have been discussed1 according to 
my intention1 that we now  proceed to   
the third1 in which ,i intend to purify 
the ,song from a  reproof which might be
 unfavourable to it4    ,and it is this1
 that before ,i composed it1 this ,lady 
seeming to me to  be somewhat fierce and
 haughty against me1 ,i made a little   
ballad1 in  which ,i called her proud   
and angry1 which appears to be contrary 
to  that which is here reasoned2 and    
therefore ,i turn to the ,song1 and1    
under colour of teaching it how it is   
proper that it should excuse  itself1 ,i
 make an excuse for that which came     
before4 ,and this1 when  one addresses  
inanimate things1 is a figure which is  
called by  rhetoricians1 ,prosopopoeia1 
and the ,poets often use it4 ,my ,song1 
it  seems you speak this to oppose1 ,the

 intention of which address1 to  make it
 more easy of understanding1 it behoves 
me to divide into three  sections3      
first1 one affirms wherefore excuse is  
necessary2 then1 one  proceeds with the 
excuse1 when ,i say1 ,though ,heaven1   
you know2  finally1 ,i speak to the     
,song as to a person well skilled in    
that which  it is right to do when ,i   
say1 ,be such excuse allowed4    ,i say1
 then1 in the first place3 ,my ,song1 it
 seems you speak this to  oppose ,the   
saying of a sister ,song of mine4 ,for  
the sake of  similitude1 ,i say sister2 
for as that woman is called a sister who
 is  born of the same father1 so may a  
man call that work a sister which is    
wrought by the same worker2 for our work
 is in some degree a thing  begotten4   
,and ,i say why it seems opposed or     
contrary to that sister  ,song1 saying3 
,this lovely ,lady whom you count       
divine1 ,your sister  called disdainful 
and morose4 ,this accusation being      
affirmed1 ,i  proceed to the excuse1 by 

quoting an example1 wherein the ,truth  
is  quite opposite to the appearance of 
,truth1 and it is quite possible to     
take the false semblance of ,truth for  
,truth itself1 regarding ,truth  itself 
as ,falsehood4 ,i say3 ,though ,heaven1 
you know1 is ever high and  pure1 ,men's
 eyes may fail1 and find a star obscure2
 where it is shown  that it is the      
property of colour and light to be      
visible1 as  ,aristotle affirms in the  
second book ,of the ,soul and in the    
book on  ,sense and ,sensation4 ,other  
things1 indeed1 are visible1 but it is  
not  their property to be so1 nor to be 
tangible1 as in form1 height1  number1  
motion1 and rest1 which are said to be  
subject to the ,common  ,sense1 and     
which we comprehend by union of many    
senses2 but of colour  and light it is  
the property to be visible1 because with
 the sight  only we comprehend them4    
,these visible things1 both those of    
which it  is the property and those     
subject to the ,common ,sense1 inasmuch 

as  they are visible1 come within the   
eye2 ,i do not say the things1 but      
their form2 through the transparent     
medium1 not really1 but by  intention1  
as it were through transparent glass4   
,and in the humour  which is in the     
pupil of the eye this current which     
makes the form  visible is completed1   
because that humour is closed behind    
like a  mirror which has its glass      
backed with lead2 so that it cannot pass
  farther on1 but strikes there1 after  
the manner of a ball1 and stops2  so    
that the form which does not appear in  
the transparent medium1  having reached 
the disc behind1 shines brightly        
thereon2 and this is  the reason why the
 image appears only in the glass which  
has lead at  the back4    ,from this    
pupil the visual spirit1 which is       
continued from it to the  part of the   
,brain1 the anterior1 where the         
sensitive power is1  suddenly1 without  
loss of time1 depicts it as in the clear
 spring of a  fountain2 and thus we see4

 ,wherefore1 in order that its vision be
  truthful1 that is1 such as the visible
 thing is in itself1 the medium  through
 which the form comes to the eye must be
 without any colour1  and so also the   
humour of the pupil2 otherwise the      
visible form would  be stained of the   
colour of the medium and of that of the 
pupil4 ,and  this is the reason why they
 who wish to make things appear of a    
certain colour in a mirror interpose    
that colour between the glass and  the  
lead1 the glass being pressed over it4  
,plato and other ,philosophers said1    
indeed1 that our sight was not  because 
the visible came into the eye1 but      
because the visual virtue  went out to  
the visible form4 ,and this opinion is  
confuted by the  ,philosopher in that   
book of his on ,sense and ,sensation4   
,having thus  considered this law of    
vision1 one can easily perceive how1    
although  the star is always in one way 
bright1 clear1 and resplendent1 and     
receives no change whatever except that 

of local movement1 as is  proved in that
 book on ,heaven and the ,world1 yet    
from many causes it  may appear dim and 
obscure2 since it may appear thus on    
account of the  medium1 the atmosphere1 
that changes continually4 ,this medium  
changes  from light to darkness1        
according to the presence or absence of 
the  ,sun2 and during the presence of   
the ,sun the medium1 which is           
transparent1 is so full of light that it
 overpowers the star1 and  therefore it 
no longer appears brilliant4 ,this      
medium also changes  from rare to dense1
 from dry to moist1 because of the      
vapours of the  ,earth which rise       
continually4 ,the medium1 thus changed1 
changes by its  density the image of the
 star1 which passes through it1 makes it
  appear dim1 and by its moisture or    
dryness changes it in colour4 ,in  like 
manner it may thus appear through the   
visual organ1 that is1 the  eye1 which  
on account of some infirmity1 or because
 of fatigue1 is  changed into some      

degree of dimness or into some degree of
 weakness4  ,so it happens very often1  
owing to the membrane of the pupil      
becoming  suffused with blood1 on       
account of some corruption produced by  
weakness1 that things all appear of a   
red colour2 and therefore the  star     
appears so coloured4 ,and owing to the  
sight being weakened1 there  results in 
it some dispersion of the spirit1 so    
that things do not  appear united1 but  
scattered1 almost in the same way as our
 writing  does on a wet piece of paper4 
,and this is the reason why many        
persons1  when they wish to read1 remove
 the paper to some distance from the    
eyes1 in order that the image thereof   
may come within the eye more  easily and
 more subtly1 and thereby the lettering 
is left impressed on  the sight more    
distinctly and connectedly4 ,for like   
reason the star  also may appear        
blurred2 and ,i had experience of this  
in the same year  in which this ,song   
was born1 for1 by trying the eyes very  

much in the  labour of reading1 the     
visual spirits were so weakened that the
 stars  all appeared to me to be blurred
 by some white mist3 and by means of    
long repose in shady and cool places1   
and by cooling the ball of the  eye with
 spring water1 ,i re-united the         
scattered powers1 which ,i  restored to 
their former good condition4    ,and    
thus1 for the reasons mentioned above1  
there are many visible  causes why the  
star can appear to us different to what 
it really is4          ,,chapter ,x4    
,leaving this digression1 which has been
 needful for seeing the ,truth1  ,i     
return to the proposition1 and ,i say   
that1 as our eyes call1 that  is1 judge1
 the star other than it really is as to 
its true condition1  so this little     
ballad judged this ,lady according to   
appearance1 other  than the ,truth1     
through infirmity of the ,soul1 which   
was impassioned  with too much desire4  
,and this ,i make evident when ,i say   
that fear  possessed her soul4 ,for this

 which ,i saw in her presence appeared  
fierce or proud to me4 ,where it is to  
be known that in proportion as  the     
agent is more closely united to the     
patient1 so much the more  powerful is  
the passion1 as may be understood from  
the opinion of the  ,philosopher in his 
book ,on ,generation4 ,wherefore in     
proportion as the  desired thing draws  
nigh to the person who desires it1 so   
much the  greater is the desire2 and the
 ,soul1 more impassioned1 unites itself 
more closely to the carnal part1 and    
abandons reason more and more2 so  that 
the individual no longer judges like a  
man1 but almost like some  other animal1
 even according to appearance1 not      
discerning the ,truth4  ,and this is the
 reason why the countenance1 modest     
according to the  truth1 appears        
disdainful and proud in her4    ,and    
that little ballad spoke1 according to  
that judgment1 as sensual  and          
irrational at once4 ,and herein it is   
sufficiently understood that  this ,song

 judges this ,lady according to ,truth1 
by the disagreement  which it has with  
that other ,song of harmony between it  
and that  ballad4 ,and not without      
reason ,i say1 ,when ,i come near to her
  glance1 and not when she comes within 
mine4 ,but in this ,i wish to  express  
the great power which her eyes had over 
me2 for1 as if ,i had  been transparent1
 through every part their light shone   
through me4 ,and  here it would be      
possible to assign reasons natural and  
supernatural1  but let it suffice here  
to have said as much as ,i have2        
elsewhere ,i  will discourse of it more 
suitably4 ,then when ,i say1 ,be such   
excuse  allowed1 ,i impose on the ,song 
instruction how1 by the assigned        
reasons1 it may excuse itself there     
where that is needful1 namely1  where   
there may be any suspicion of this      
opposition2 for there is no  more to    
say1 except that whoever may feel       
doubtful as to the matter  wherein this 
,song differs from the other1 let him   

look at the reason  which has been here 
stated4 ,and such a figure as this is   
quite  laudable in ,rhetoric1 and even  
necessary when the words are to one     
person and the intention is to another2 
because it is always  praiseworthy to   
admonish and necessary also2 but it is  
not always  suitable in the mouth of    
every one4 ,wherefore1 when the son is  
aware  of the vice of the father1 and   
when the subject is aware of the vice   
of the lord1 and when the friend knows  
that the shame of his friend  would be  
increased to him by admonition from him1
 when he knows that  it would detract   
from his honour1 or when he knows that  
his friend  would not be patient1 but   
enraged at the admonition1 this figure  
is  most beautiful and most useful4 ,you
 may term it dissimulation2 it is       
similar to the work of that wise warrior
 who attacked the castle on  one side in
 order to draw off the defence from the 
other1 for the  attack and the design of
 the commander are not aimed at one and 

the  same part4    ,also1 ,i lay a      
command on this ,song1 that it ask      
permission of this  ,lady to speak of   
her2 whereby one may infer that a man   
ought not to be  presumptuous in        
praising another1 ought not to take it  
for granted in  his own mind that it is 
pleasing to the person praised1 because 
often1  when some one believes he is    
bestowing praise1 it is taken as blame1 
either through defect of the speaker or 
through defect of him who  hears4       
,wherefore it is requisite to have much 
discretion in this  matter2 which       
discretion is tantamount to asking      
permission1 in the  way in which ,i say 
that this ,song or ,poem should ask for 
it4    ,and thus ends the whole ,literal
 meaning of this treatise2 wherefore    
the order of the work now requires the  
,allegorical exposition1  following the 
,truth1 to be proceeded with4           
,,chapter ,,xi4      ,returning now1 as 
the order requires1 to the beginning of 
the ,song1 ,i  say that this ,lady is   

that ,lady of the ,intellect who is     
called  ,philosophy4 ,but naturally     
praise excites a desire to know the     
person  praised2 and to know the thing  
may be to know what it is considered to 
be in itself1 and in all that pertains  
to it1 as the ,philosopher says  in the 
beginning of the book ,on ,physics2 and 
the name may reveal this  when it bears 
some meaning1 as he says in the fourth  
chapter of the  ,metaphysics1 where it  
is said that the definition is that     
reason which  the name signifies4 ,here1
 therefore1 it is necessary1 before     
proceeding farther with her praises1 to 
prove and to say what this is  that is  
called ,philosophy1 what this name      
signifies2 and when this has  been      
demonstrated1 the present ,allegory will
 be more efficaciously  discussed4 ,and 
first of all ,i will state who first    
gave this name2  then ,i shall proceed  
to its signification4    ,i say1 then1  
that anciently in ,italy1 almost from   
the beginning of the  foundation of     

,rome1 which was seven hundred and fifty
 years1 a little  more or less1 before  
the advent of the ,saviour1 according as
 ,paul  ,orosius writes1 about the time 
of ,numa ,pompilius1 second king of the 
,romans1 there lived a most noble       
,philosopher1 who was named             
,pythagoras4 ,and that he might be      
living about that time appears from     
something to which ,titus ,livius       
alludes incidentally in the first part  
of his ,history4 ,and before him they   
were called the followers of  ,science1 
not ,philosophers but ,wise ,men such as
 were those ,seven most  ancient ,wise  
,men1 who still live in popular fame4   
,the first of them  had the name of     
,solon1 the second ,chilon1 the third   
,periander1 the  fourth ,talus1 the     
fifth ,cleobulus1 the sixth ,bias1 the  
seventh  ,pittacus4 ,pythagoras1 being  
asked if he were considered to be a     
,wise  ,man1 rejected this name1 and    
stated himself to be not a ,wise ,man1  
but  a ,lover of ,wisdom4 ,and from this

 circumstance it subsequently arose     
that any man studious to acquire        
knowledge1 was called a ,lover of       
,wisdom1 that is1 a ,philosopher2 for   
inasmuch as ,philo in ,greek is         
equivalent to ,love and sophia is       
equivalent to ,wisdom1 therefore1       
,philo and sophia mean the same as ,love
 of ,wisdom4 ,wherefore it is  possible 
to see that those two words make that   
name ,philosopher1 which  is as much as 
to say ,lover of ,wisdom4 ,therefore it 
may be observed  that it is not a term  
of arrogance1 but of humility4    ,from 
this sprang naturally the word          
philosophy1 as from the word  friend    
springs naturally the word friendship4  
,wherefore it is possible  to see1      
considering the signification of the    
first and second word1  that philosophy 
is no other than friendship to wisdom1  
or rather to  knowledge2 wherefore to a 
certain degree it is possible to call   
every  man a philosopher1 according to  
the natural love which generates a      

desire for knowledge in each individual4
    ,but since the natural passions are 
common to all men1 we do not  specify   
those passions by some distinctive word1
 applied to some  individual who shares 
our common nature1 as when we say1 ,john
 is the  friend of ,martin1 we do not   
mean to signify merely the natural love 
which all men bear to all men1 but we   
mean the friendship founded upon  the   
natural love which is distinct and      
peculiar to certain  individuals4 ,thus 
we do not term any one a philosopher    
because of the  love common to us all4  
,it is the intention or meaning of      
,aristotle1 in  the eighth book of the  
,ethics1 that that man may be called a  
friend  whose friendship is not         
concealed from the person beloved1 and  
to whom  also the beloved person is a   
friend1 so that the attachment is       
mutual2  and this must be so either for 
mutual benefit1 or for pleasure1 or for 
credit's sake4 ,and thus1 in order that 
a man may be a philosopher1 it  must be 

love to ,wisdom which makes one of the  
sides friendly2 it must  be study and   
care which make the other side also     
friendly1 so that  familiarity and      
manifestation of benevolence may spring 
up between  them2 because without love  
and without study one cannot be called a
  philosopher1 but there must be both   
the one and the other4    ,and as       
friendship for the sake of pleasure     
given or for profit is not  true        
friendship1 but accidental1 as the      
,ethics demonstrate1 so  philosophy for 
delight or profit is not true           
philosophy1 but  accidental4 ,wherefore 
one ought not to call him a true        
philosopher who  for some pleasure or   
other may be a friend of ,wisdom in some
 degree2  even as there are many who    
take delight in repeating songs and in  
studying the same1 and who delight in   
studying ,rhetoric and ,music1 and  who 
avoid and abandon the other ,sciences1  
which are all members of  ,wisdom's     
body4 ,one ought not to call him a true 

philosopher who is the  friend of       
,wisdom for the sake of profit2 such as 
are the ,lawyers1  ,doctors1 and almost 
all the ,religious ,men1 who do not     
study for the  sake of knowledge1 but to
 acquire money or dignity2 and if any   
one  would give them that which they    
seek to acquire1 they would not         
continue to study4 ,and as amongst the  
various kinds of friendship1  that which
 is for profit may be called the meanest
 friendship1 so such  men as these have 
less share in the name of ,philosopher  
than any other  people4    ,wherefore as
 the friendship conceived through honest
 affection is true  and perfect and     
perpetual1 so is that philosophy true   
and perfect  which is generated by      
upright desire for knowledge1 without   
regard to  aught else1 and by the       
goodness of the friendly soul2 which is 
as much  as to say1 by right appetite   
and right reason4 ,and it is possible to
  say here that as true friendship      
amongst men is1 that each love each     

entirely1 so the true ,philosopher loves
 each part of ,wisdom1 and  ,wisdom each
 part of the ,philosopher1 so as to draw
 him wholly to  herself1 and to allow no
 thought of his to stray away to other  
things4  ,wherefore ,wisdom herself says
 in the ,proverbs of ,solomon1 ,i love  
those who love me4 ,and as true         
friendship of the mind1 considered in   
itself alone1 has for its subject the   
knowledge of good effects1 and  for its 
form the desire for the same1 even so   
,philosophy considered in  itself alone1
 apart from the ,soul1 has understanding
 for its subject1  and for its form an  
almost divine love to intellect4    ,and
 as the efficient cause of true         
friendship is ,virtue1 so the  efficient
 cause of ,philosophy is ,truth4 ,and as
 the end of true  friendship is true    
affection1 which proceeds from the      
intercourse  proper to ,humanity1 that  
is1 according to the dictates of        
,reason1 as  ,aristotle seems to think  
in the ninth book of the ,ethics1 so the

 end  of ,philosophy is that most       
excellent affection which suffers no    
intermission or defect1 that is1 the    
true happiness which is acquired  by the
 contemplation of ,truth4    ,and thus  
it is now possible to see who this my   
,lady is1 in all her  causes and in her 
whole reason1 and why she is called     
,philosophy2 and  who is a true         
,philosopher1 and who is one by         
accident4    ,but in some fervour or    
heat of mind the one and the other end  
of the  acts and of the passions are    
called by the word for the act itself or
  the passion2 as ,virgil does in the   
second book of the neid1 where he  calls
 ,hector1 ,oh1 light 7which was the act7
 and hope 7which is the  passion7 of the
 ,trojans3 for he was neither the light 
nor the hope1  but he was the end whence
 came to them their light in council1   
and he  was the end in which was reposed
 their hope of safety2 as ,statius      
writes in the fifth book of the         
,thebaid1 when ,hypsipyle says to       

,archemorus1 ,oh1 consolation of things 
and of the lost country6 oh1  honour of 
my servitude6 even as we say daily1     
showing the friend1  ,see my friendship2
 and the father says to the son1 ,my    
love2 and so  it is that1 through long  
custom1 the ,sciences1 in which most    
fervently  ,philosophy finds the end to 
which she looks1 are called by her name1
  such as the ,natural ,science1 the    
,moral ,science1 and the ,metaphysical  
,science1 which last1 because most      
necessarily she looks to her end in     
that chiefly and most fervently1 is     
called the ,first ,philosophy4    ,now1 
therefore1 since it has been seen what  
the true ,philosophy is in  its essence2
 which is that ,lady of whom ,i speak2  
how her noble name  through custom is   
communicated to the ,sciences1 and the  
first science  is called the ,first     
,philosophy1 ,i may proceed further with
 her praise4          ,,chapter ,,xii4  
,in the first chapter of this treatise  
the reason which moved me to  this ,song

 is so fully discussed that it is no    
longer necessary to  discuss it further1
 for one can easily enough recall to    
mind what has  been said in this        
exposition3 and therefore1 following the
 divisions  made for the ,literal       
meaning1 ,i shall run through the ,song1
 turning  back to the sense of the      
letter where it may be needful4 ,i say1 
,love1  reasoning of my ,lady in my     
mind4 ,by ,love ,i mean the labour and  
pains  ,i took to acquire the love of   
this ,lady4 ,if one wishes to know what 
labour1 it can be here considered in two
 ways4 ,there is one study  which leads 
the man to the daily use of ,art and    
,science2 there is  another study which 
he will employ in the acquired use4 ,the
 first is  that which ,i call ,love1    
which fills my mind continually with new
 and  most exalted ideas of this ,lady3 
even as the anxious pains which one     
takes to acquire a friendship are wont  
to do2 for1 when desiring that          
friendship1 a man is wont to take       

anxious thought concerning it4 ,this  is
 that study and that affection which    
usually precedes in men the  begetting  
of the friendship1 when already on one  
side ,love is born1  and desires and    
strives that it may be on the other2    
for1 as is said  above1 ,philosophy is  
born when the ,soul and ,wisdom have    
become  friends1 so that the one is     
loved by the other4    ,neither is it   
again needful to discuss that first     
stanza in the  present explanation1     
which was reasoned out as the ,proem in 
the  ,literal exposition2 since1 from   
the first argument thereof1 it is easy  
enough to make out the meaning in this  
the second one4    ,we may proceed1     
then1 to the second part1 which begins  
the treatise1  and to that place where  
,i say1 ,the ,sun sees not in travel    
round the  ,earth4 ,here it is to be    
known that as1 when discoursing of a    
sensible  thing1 one handles it suitably
 by means of an insensible thing1 so of 
an intelligible thing1 one fitly argues 

by means of an unintelligible4  ,in the 
,literal sense one speaks of the ,sun as
 a substantial and  sensible body2 so   
now it is fit1 by image of the ,sun1 to 
discourse of  the ,spiritual and        
,unintelligible1 that is1 ,god4         
,there is no visible thing in all the   
world more worthy to serve as a  type of
 ,god than the ,sun1 which illuminates  
with visible light itself  first1 and   
then all the celestial and elemental    
bodies4 ,thus1 ,god  illuminates        
,himself first with intellectual light1 
and then the  celestial and other       
intelligible beings4 ,the ,sun vivifies 
all things  with his heat1 and if       
anything is destroyed thereby1 it is not
 by the  intention of the cause1 but it 
is an accidental effect3 thus ,god      
vivifies all things in ,his ,goodness1  
and1 if any suffer evil1 it is  not by  
the ,divine intention1 but the effect is
 accidental4 ,for1 if ,god  made the    
,angels good and evil1 ,he did not make 
both by intention1 but  ,he made the    

good only2 there followed afterwards1   
beyond ,his  intention1 the wickedness  
of the evil ones2 but not so far beyond 
,his  intention that ,god could not     
foreknow in ,himself their wickedness2  
but  so great was the loving desire to  
produce the ,spiritual creature that    
the foreknowledge that some would come  
to a bad end neither could nor  should  
prevent ,god from continuing the        
production2 as it would not be  to the  
praise of ,nature if1 knowing of herself
 that the flowers of a  tree in a       
certain part must perish1 she should    
refuse to produce  flowers on that tree1
 and should abandon the production of   
fruit-bearing trees as vain and useless4
 ,i say1 then1 that ,god1 who  encircles
 and understands all1 in ,his encircling
 and ,his understanding  sees nothing so
 gentle1 so noble1 as ,he sees when ,he 
shines on this  ,philosophy4 ,for1      
although ,god ,himself1 beholding1 may  
see all things  together1 inasmuch as   
the distinction of things is in ,him in 

the same  way as the effect is in the   
cause1 yet ,he sees those things also   
apart  and distinct4 ,he sees1 then1    
this ,lady the most noble of all        
absolutely1 inasmuch as most perfectly  
,he sees her in ,himself and in  her    
essence4 ,if what has been said above be
 recalled to mind1  ,philosophy is a    
loving use of ,wisdom2 which especially 
is in ,god1  because in ,him is ,supreme
 ,wisdom1 and ,supreme ,love1 and       
,supreme  ,action2 which cannot be      
elsewhere except inasmuch as it proceeds
 from  ,him4 ,it is1 then1 the ,divine  
,philosophy of the ,divine ,being1 since
 in  ,him nothing can be that is not    
part of ,his ,essence2 and it is most   
noble1 because the ,divine ,essence is  
most noble1 and it is in ,him in a      
manner perfect and true1 as if by       
eternal wedlock2 it is in the other     
,intelligences in a less degree1 as if  
platonic1 as if a virgin love  from whom
 no lover receives full and complete    
joy1 but contents  himself by gazing on 

the beauty of her countenance4          
,wherefore it is  possible to say that  
,god sees not1 that ,he does not        
intently regard1  anything so noble as  
this ,lady2 ,i say anything1 inasmuch as
 ,he sees  and distinguishes the other  
things1 as has been said1 seeing        
,himself  to be the cause of all4 ,oh1  
most noble and most excellent heart1    
which  is at peace in the bride of the  
,ruler of ,heaven2 and not bride only1  
but sister1 and the daughter beloved    
above all others4          ,,chapter    
,,xiii4      ,having seen in the        
beginning of the praises of this ,lady  
how subtly it  is said that she is of   
the ,divine ,substance1 as was first to 
be  considered1 we proceed now to       
consider her as she is in the           
,intelligences that proceed thence4 ,all
 minds of ,heaven wonder at her  worth1 
where it is to be known that ,i say1    
minds of ,heaven1 making  that allusion 
to ,god which has been mentioned above2 
and from this one  excludes the         

,intelligences who are exiled from the  
eternal country1  who can never study   
,philosophy1 because love in them is    
entirely  extinct1 and for the study of 
,philosophy1 as has been already said1  
,love is necessary4 ,one sees1          
therefore1 that the spirits of ,hell are
  deprived of the sight of this most    
beautiful ,lady2 and1 since she is  the 
blessing of the intellect1 the          
deprivation of her is most bitter  and  
full of every sadness4    ,then1 when ,i
 say1 ,mortals1 enamoured1 find her in  
their thought1 ,i  descend to show how  
she also may come into the ,human       
,intelligence in a  secondary degree2   
with which ,human ,philosophy ,i then   
proceed through  the treatise1 praising 
it4 ,i say1 then1 that the mortals who  
find her  in their thought in this life 
do not always find her there1 but only  
,when ,love his peace into their hearts 
has brought2 wherein there are  to be   
seen three points which are alluded to  
in this text4    ,the first is when one 

says1 ,mortals1 enamoured1 because it   
seems to  make a distinction in the     
human race1 and of necessity it must be 
made2 for1 according to what manifestly 
appears1 and which in the  following    
treatise will be specially reasoned out1
 the greatest part  of men live more    
according to the ,sense than according  
to ,reason2 and  those who live         
according to the ,sense can never be    
enamoured of this  ,lady1 since of her  
they can have no apprehension whatever4 
,the second point is when it says1 ,when
 ,love his peace into their  minds has  
brought1 where it appears to make a     
distinction of time4  ,and that is      
necessary2 for1 although the separate   
,intelligences gaze  at this ,lady      
continually1 the ,human ,intelligence   
cannot do so2 since  ,human ,nature1    
besides that which gives delight to the 
,intellect and  the ,reason1 has need of
 many things requisite for its support  
which  contemplation cannot furnish     
forth4 ,therefore our ,wisdom is        

sometimes  habitual only1 and not       
actual2 and this does not happen to the 
other  ,intelligences1 which alone are  
perfect in their intellectual nature4   
,and so1 when our soul is not in the act
 of contemplation1 one cannot  truly say
 that it is in ,philosophy1 except      
inasmuch as it has the  habit of it1 and
 the power of being able to arouse it2  
sometimes1  therefore1 she is with the  
people who are enamoured of her here    
below1  and sometimes not4    ,the third
 point is1 when it speaks of the time   
when those people are  with her1 namely1
 when ,love has brought into their minds
 his peace2  which means no other than  
when the man is in the act of           
contemplation1  since he does not strive
 to feel the peace of that ,lady except 
in the  act of contemplation4    ,and   
thus one sees how this ,lady is firstly 
in the ,mind of ,god1  secondly in the  
other separate ,intelligences through   
continual  contemplation1 and afterwards
 in the human intellect through         

interpreted contemplation4 ,but the man 
who has her for his ,lady is  ever to be
 termed a ,philosopher1 notwithstanding 
that he may not be  always in the final 
act of ,philosophy1 for it is usual to  
name other  men after their habits4     
,wherefore we call any man virtuous1 not
 merely  when performing virtuous       
actions1 but from having the habit or   
custom  of virtue4 ,and we call a man   
eloquent1 even when he is not speaking1 
from his habit of eloquence1 that is1 of
 speaking well4    ,and of this         
,philosophy1 in which ,human            
,intelligence has part1 there  will now 
be the following encomiums to prove how 
great a part of her  good gifts is      
bestowed on ,human ,nature4 ,i say1     
then1 afterwards3        ,her ,maker saw
 that she was good1 and poured1         
,beyond our ,nature1 fulness of ,his    
,power        ,on her pure ,soul1 whence
 shone this holy dower      ,through all
 her frame4    ,for the capacity of our 
,nature is subdued by it1 which it makes

  beautiful and virtuous4 ,wherefore1   
although into the habit of that  ,lady  
one may somewhat come1 it is not        
possible to say that any one who  enters
 thereinto properly has that habit2     
since the first study1 that  whereby the
 habit is begotten1 cannot perfectly    
acquire that  philosophy4 ,and here one 
sees her lowly praise2 for1 perfect or  
imperfect1 she never loses the name of  
perfection4 ,and because of this  her   
surpassing excellence1 it says that the 
,soul of ,philosophy shone  ,through all
 her frame1 that is1 that ,god ever     
imparts to her of ,his  ,light4    ,here
 we may recall to mind what is said     
above1 that ,love is a form of          
,philosophy1 and therefore here is      
called her ,soul2 which ,love is        
manifest in the use of ,wisdom1 and such
 use brings with it a wonderful  beauty1
 that is to say1 contentment under any  
condition of the time1  and contempt for
 those things which other men make their
 masters4    ,wherefore it happens that 

those other unhappy ones who gaze       
thereon1  and think over their own      
defects from the desire for perfection1 
fall  into the weariness of sighs2 and  
this is meant where it says3 ,that  from
 the eyes she touches heralds fly       
,heartward with longings1  heavenward   
with a sigh4          ,,chapter ,,xiv4  
,as in the ,literal exposition1 after   
the general praises one descends  to the
 especial1 firstly on the part of the   
,soul1 then on the part of  the body1 so
 now the text proceeds after the general
 encomium to  descend to the especial   
commendation4 ,as it is said above1     
,philosophy  here has ,wisdom for its   
material subject and ,love for its form1
 and  the habit of contemplation for the
 union of the two4 ,wherefore in this   
passage which subsequently begins1 ,on  
her fair form ,virtue ,divine  descends1
 ,i mean to praise ,love1 which is part 
of ,philosophy4 ,here it  is to be known
 that for a virtue to descend from one  
thing into  another there is no other   

way than to reduce that thing into its  
own  similitude2 as we see evidently in 
the natural agents1 for their  virtue   
descending into the things that are the 
patients1 they bring  those things into 
their similitude as far as they are able
 to attain  it4    ,we see that the     
,sun1 pouring his rays down on this     
,earth1 reduces the  things thereon to  
his own similitude of light in          
proportion as they by  their own        
disposition are able to receive light of
 his light4 ,thus1 ,i  say that ,god    
reduces this ,love to ,his own          
,similitude as much as it is  possible  
for it to bear likeness to ,him4 ,and it
 alludes to the nature  of the creative 
act1 saying1 ,as on the ,angel that     
beholds ,his face4  ,where again it is  
to be known that the first ,agent1 who  
is ,god1 paints  ,his ,virtue on some   
things by means of direct radiance1 and 
on some  things by means of reflected   
splendour2 wherefore into the separate  
,intelligences the ,divine ,light shines

 without any interposing medium2  into  
the others it is reflected from those   
,intelligences which were  first        
illumined4    ,but since mention is here
 made of ,light and ,splendour1 for the 
more  perfect understanding thereof ,i  
will show the difference between those  
words1 according to the opinion of      
,avicenna4 ,i say that it is the  custom
 of ,philosophers to speak of ,heaven as
 ,light1 inasmuch as ,light  is there in
 its primeval ,spring1 or its first     
origin4 ,they speak of it  as a ray of  
,light while it passes through the      
medium from its source  into the first  
body in which it has its end2 they call 
it ,splendour  where it is reflected    
back from some part that has received   
illumination4 ,i say1 then1 that the    
,divine ,virtue or ,power draws this    
,love into ,its ,own ,similitude without
 any interposing medium4    ,and it is  
possible to make this evident1          
especially in this1 that as  the ,divine
 ,love is ,eternal1 so must its object  

of necessity be  eternal1 so that those 
things are eternal which ,he loves4 ,and
 thus it  makes this ,love to love1 for 
the ,wisdom into which this ,love       
strikes  is eternal4 ,wherefore it is   
written of her3 ,from the beginning1    
before ,time was created1 ,i am3 and in 
the ,time to come ,i shall not  fail4   
,and in the ,proverbs of ,solomon this  
,wisdom says3 ,i am  established for    
ever4 ,and in the beginning of the      
,gospel of ,john1 her  eternity is      
openly alluded to1 as it is possible to 
observe4 ,and  therefore it results that
 there1 where this ,love shines1 all the
 other  ,loves become obscure and almost
 extinct1 since its eternal object      
subdues and overpowers all other objects
 in a manner beyond all  comparison2 and
 therefore the most excellent           
,philosophers in their  actions openly  
demonstrate it1 whereby we know that    
they have treated  all other things with
 indifference except ,wisdom4 ,wherefore
  ,democritus1 neglecting all care of   

his own person1 trimmed neither his     
beard1 nor the hair of his head1 nor his
 nails4 ,plato1 indifferent to  the     
riches of this world1 despised the royal
 dignity1 for he was the  son of a king4
 ,aristotle1 caring for no other friend1
 combated with  his own best friend1    
even with the above-named ,plato1 his   
dearest  friend after ,philosophy4 ,and 
why do we speak of these1 when we find  
others who1 for these thoughts1 held    
their life in contempt1 such as  ,zeno1 
,socrates1 ,seneca1 and many more8 ,it  
is evident1 therefore1 that  in this    
,love the ,divine ,power1 after the     
manner of an ,angel1 descends  into men2
 and to give proof of this1 the text    
presently exclaims3  ,fair one who      
doubt1 go with her1 mark the grace ,in  
all her acts4 ,by  ,fair one is meant   
the noble soul of judgment1 free in its 
own power1  which is ,reason2 hence the 
other souls cannot be called ,ladies1   
but  handmaids1 since they are not for  
themselves1 but for others2 and the     

,philosopher says1 in the first book of 
,metaphysics1 that that thing is  free  
which is a cause of itself and not for  
others4 ,it says1 go with  her1 mark the
 grace ,in all her acts1 that is1 make  
thyself the  companion of this ,love1   
and look at that which will be found    
within  it2 and in part it alludes to   
this1 saying1 ,downward from ,heaven    
bends ,an ,angel when she speaks1       
meaning that where ,philosophy is in    
action a celestial thought stoops down1 
in which this being reasons or          
discourses beyond the power of ,human   
,nature4    ,the ,song says from        
,heaven1 to give people to understand   
that not  only ,philosophy1 but the     
thoughts friendly to it1 are abstracted 
from  all low and earthly things4 ,then 
afterwards it says how she  strengthens 
and kindles love wherever she appears   
with the sweet  persuasions of her      
actions1 which are in all her aspects   
modest1  gentle1 and without any        
domineering assumption4 ,and            

subsequently1 by  still greater         
persuasion to induce a desire for her   
company1 it says3  ,fair in all like    
her1 fairest she'll appear ,who is most 
like her4  ,again it adds3 ,we1 content 
to call ,her face a ,miracle1 find help 
in  it1 where it is to be known that the
 regard of this ,lady was freely        
ordained to arouse a desire in us for   
its acquisition1 not only in her        
countenance1 which she reveals to sight1
 but also in the things which  she keeps
 hidden4 ,wherefore as1 through her1    
much of that which is  hidden is seen by
 means of ,reason 7and consequently to  
see by ,reason  without her seems a     
miracle71 so1 through her1 one believes 
each  miracle in the action of a higher 
intellectual ,power to have reason1  and
 therefore to be possible4 ,from whence 
true ,faith has its origin1  from which 
comes the ,hope to desire the ,future1  
and from that are born  the works of    
,charity1 by which three ,virtues we    
mount to become  ,philosophers in that  

celestial ,athens where ,stoics1        
,peripatetics1 and  ,epicureans1 by the 
practice of ,eternal ,truth1 concur     
harmoniously in  one desire4            
,,chapter ,,xv4      ,in the preceding  
chapter this glorious ,lady is praised  
according to  one of her component      
parts1 that is1 ,love4 ,in this chapter 
,i intend to  explain that passage which
 begins1 ,her aspect shows delights of  
,paradise1 and here it is requisite to  
discuss and praise her other  part1     
,wisdom4    ,the text then says that in 
the face of this ,lady things appear    
which  show us joys of ,paradise2 and it
 distinguishes the place where this     
appears1 namely1 in the eyes and the    
smile4 ,and here it must be known  that 
the eyes of ,wisdom are her             
demonstrations1 whereby one sees the    
,truth most certainly2 but her          
persuasions are in her smile1 in which  
persuasions the inner ,light of ,wisdom 
reveals itself without any veil  or     
concealment4 ,and in these two is felt  

that most exalted joy which  is the     
supreme good in ,paradise4 ,this joy    
cannot be in any other thing  here      
below1 except in gazing into these eyes 
and upon that smile4 ,and  the reason is
 this1 that since each thing naturally  
desires its  perfection1 without which  
it cannot be at peace1 to have that is  
to be  blessed4 ,for although it might  
possess all other things1 yet1 being    
without that1 there would remain in it  
desire1 which cannot consist  with      
perfect happiness1 since perfect        
happiness is a perfect thing1  and      
desire is a defective thing4 ,for one   
desires not that which he  has1 but that
 which he has not1 and here is a        
manifest defect4 ,and in  this form     
solely can human perfection be acquired1
 as the perfection  of ,reason1 on      
which1 as on its principal part1 our    
essential being all  depends4 ,all our  
other actions1 as to feel or hear1 to   
take food1 and  the rest1 are through   
this one alone2 and this is for itself1 

and not  for others4 ,so that1 if that  
be perfect1 it is so perfect that the   
man1 inasmuch as he is a man1 sees each 
desire fulfilled1 and thus he  is happy4
 ,and therefore it is said in the ,book 
of ,wisdom3 ,whoso  casteth away ,wisdom
 and ,knowledge is unhappy1 that is to  
say1 he  suffers the privation of       
happiness4 ,from the habit of ,wisdom it
  follows that a man learns to be happy 
and content1 according to the  opinion  
of the ,philosopher4 ,one sees1 then1   
how in the aspect of this  ,lady joys of
 ,paradise appear1 and therefore one    
reads in the ,book of  ,wisdom quoted   
above1 when speaking of her1 ,she is a  
shining whiteness  of the ,eternal      
,light2 a ,mirror without blemish1 of   
the ,majesty of  ,god4 ,then when it    
says1 ,things over which the intellect  
may stray1  ,i excuse myself1 saying    
that ,i can say but little concerning   
these1 on  account of their overpowering
 influence4 ,where it is to be known    
that  in any way these things dazzle our

 intellect1 inasmuch as they affirm     
certain things to be1 which our         
intellect is unable to comprehend1  that
 is1 ,god and ,eternity1 and the first  
,matter which most certainly  they do   
not see1 and with all faith they believe
 to be4 ,and even what  they are we     
cannot understand2 and so1 by not       
denying things1 it is  possible to draw 
near to some knowledge of them1 but not 
otherwise4    ,truly here it is possible
 to have some very strong doubt how it  
is  that ,wisdom can make the man       
completely happy without being able to  
show him certain things perfectly2 since
 the natural desire for  knowledge is in
 the man1 and without fulfilment of the 
desire he  cannot be fully happy4 ,to   
this it is possible to reply clearly1   
that  the natural desire in each thing  
is in proportion to the possibility  of 
reaching to the thing desired2 otherwise
 it would pass into  opposition to      
itself1 which is impossible2 and ,nature
 would have  worked in vain1 which also 

is impossible4    ,it would pass into   
opposition1 for1 desiring its           
perfection1 it would  desire its        
imperfection1 since he would desire     
always to desire1 and  never fulfil his 
desire4 ,and into this error the cursed 
miser falls1  and does not perceive that
 he desires always to desire1 going     
backwards to reach to an impossible     
amount4    ,nature also would have      
worked in vain1 since it would not be   
ordained  to any end2 and1 in fact1     
human desire is proportioned in this    
life to  that knowledge which it is     
possible to have here4 ,one cannot pass 
that  point except through error1 which 
is outside the natural intention4  ,and 
thus it is proportioned in the ,angelic1
 and it is limited in ,human  ,nature1  
and it finds its end in that ,wisdom in 
proportion as the  nature of each can   
apprehend it4    ,and this is the reason
 why the ,saints have no envy amongst   
themselves1  since each one attains the 
end of his desire1 and the desire of    

each  is in due proportion to the nature
 of his goodness4 ,wherefore1 since  to 
know ,god and certain other things1 as  
,eternity and the first  ,matter1 is not
 possible to our ,nature1 naturally we  
have no desire for  that knowledge1 and 
hereby is this doubtful question solved4
    ,then when ,i say1 ,rain from her   
beauty little flames of fire1 ,i        
proceed to another joy of ,paradise1    
that is1 from the secondary  felicity1  
happiness1 to this first one1 which     
proceeds from her  beauty1 where it is  
to be known that ,morality is the beauty
 of  ,philosophy4 ,for as the beauty of 
the body is the result of its members   
in proportion as they are fitly ordered1
 so the beauty of ,wisdom1  which is the
 body of ,philosophy1 as has been said1 
results from the  order of the ,moral   
,virtues which visibly make that joy4   
,and therefore  ,i say that her beauty1 
which is ,morality1 rains down little   
flames of  fire1 meaning direct desire1 
which is begotten in the pleasure of the

  ,moral ,doctrine2 which desire removes
 it again from the natural vices1  and  
not only from the others4 ,and thence   
springs that happiness which  ,aristotle
 defined in the first book of ,ethics1  
saying1 that it is ,work  according to  
,virtue in the ,perfect ,life4    ,and  
when it says1 ,fair one1 who may desire 
,escape from blame1 it  proceeds in     
praise of ,philosophy4 ,i cry aloud to  
the people that they  should follow her1
 telling them of her good gifts1 that is
 to say1  that by following her each one
 may become good4 ,therefore it says to 
each ,soul1 that feels its beauty is to 
blame because it does not  appear what  
it ought to appear1 let her look at this
 example4 ,where it  is to be known that
 the ,morals are the beauty of the      
,soul1 that is to  say1 the most        
excellent virtues1 which sometimes      
through vanity or  through pride are    
made less beautiful or less agreeable1  
as in the  last treatise it was possible
 to perceive4 ,and therefore ,i say     

that1  in order to shun this1 one looks 
at that ,lady1 ,philosophy1 there where 
she is the example of ,humility1 namely1
 in that part of herself which  is      
called ,moral ,philosophy4 ,and ,i      
subjoin that by gazing at her 7,i  say1 
at ,wisdom7 in that part1 every vicious 
man will become upright  and good4 ,and 
therefore ,i say she has a spirit to    
create ,good  thoughts1 and crush the   
vices4 ,she turns gently back him who   
has gone  astray from the right course4 
,finally1 in highest praise of ,wisdom1 
,i say of her that she is the  ,mother  
of every good ,principle1 saying that   
she is ,god's thought1  who began the   
,world1 and especially the movement of  
the ,heaven by  which all things are    
generated1 and wherein each movement has
 its  origin1 that is to say1 that the  
,divine ,thought is ,wisdom4 ,she was1  
when ,god made the ,world2 whence it    
follows that she could make it1 and     
therefore ,solomon said in the ,book of 
,proverbs1 in the person of  ,wisdom3   

,when ,he prepared the ,heavens1 ,i was 
there3 when ,he set a  compass upon the 
face of the depth2 when ,he established 
the clouds  above2 when ,he strengthened
 the fountains of the deep2 when ,he    
gave to  the sea ,his decree1 that the  
waters should not pass ,his commandment2
  when ,he appointed the foundations of 
the ,earth3 then ,i was by ,him1 as  one
 brought up with ,him1 and ,i was daily 
,his delight1 rejoicing always  before  
,him4 ,o1 ye ,men1 worse than dead1 who 
fly from the friendship  of ,wisdom1    
open your eyes1 and see that before you 
were she was the  ,lover of you1        
preparing and ordaining the process of  
your being6 ,since  you were made she   
came that she might guide you1 came to  
you in your  own likeness2 and1 if all  
of you cannot come into her presence1   
honour  her in her friends1 and follow  
their counsels1 as of them who announce 
to you the will of this eternal         
,empress6 ,close not your ears to       
,solomon1 who tells you the path of the 

,just is as a shining ,light1  which    
goeth forth and increaseth even to the  
day of salvation4 ,follow  after them1  
behold their works1 which ought to be to
 you as a beacon  of light for guidance 
in the path of this most brief life4    
,and here we may close the ,commentary  
on the true meaning of the  present     
,song4 ,the last stanza1 which is       
intended for a refrain1 can be          
explained easily enough by the ,literal 
exposition1 except inasmuch as  it says 
that ,i there called this ,lady         
disdainful and morose4 ,where  it is to 
be known that at the beginning this     
,philosophy appeared to me  on the part 
of her body1 which is ,wisdom1 morose1  
for she smiled not  on me1 insomuch that
 as yet ,i did not understand her       
persuasions2 and  she seemed to me      
disdainful1 for she turned not her      
glance to me1 that  is to say1 ,i could 
not see her demonstrations4 ,but the    
defect was  altogether on my side4 ,from
 this1 and from that which is given in  

the  explanation of the ,literal meaning
 of the ,song1 the ,allegory of the     
refrain is evident4 ,it is time1        
therefore1 that we proceed farther1  and
 this treatise end4           99        
99       99       99       99           
,the ,fourth ,treatise            ,soft 
rhymes of love ,i used to find          
,within my thought1 ,i now must leave1  
,not without hope to turn to them again2
        ,but signs of a disdainful mind 
,that in my ,lady ,i perceive      ,have
 closed the way to my accustomed strain4
          ,and since time suits me now  
to wait1          ,i put away the softer
 style      ,proper to love2 rhyme      
subtle and severe        ,shall tell how
 ,nobleman's estate          ,is won by 
worth1 hold false and vile      ,the    
judgment that from wealth derives a     
,peer4            ,first calling on that
 ,lord            ,who dwells within her
 eyes1          ,containing whom1 my    
,lady learnt            ,herself to love
 and prize4            ,one raised to   

,empire held1            ,as far as he  
could see1          ,descent of wealth1 
and generous ways1            ,to make  
,nobility4            ,another1 lightly 
wise1            ,that saying turned    
aside1          ,perchance for want of  
generous ways            ,the second    
source denied4            ,and followers
 of him            ,are all the men who 
rate          ,those noble in whose     
families            ,the wealth has long
 been great4            ,and so long    
among us            ,the falsehood has  
had sway1          ,that men call him a 
,nobleman1            ,though worthless1
 who can say4            ,i nephew am1  
or son1            ,of one worth such a 
sum2          ,but he who sees the      
,truth may know            ,how vile he 
has become            ,to whom the      
,truth was shown1            ,who from  
the ,truth has fled1          ,and      
though he walks upon the earth          
,is counted with the dead3              
,whoever shall define            ,the   

man a living tree          ,will speak  
untruth and less than truth1            
,though more he may not see4            
,the ,emperor so erred2                 
,first set the false in view1           
,proceeding1 on the other side1         
,to what was less than true4            
,for riches make not worth              
,although they can defile3          ,nor
 can their want take worth away3        
,they are by nature vile4            ,no
 painter gives a form            ,that  
is not of his knowing2          ,no     
tower leans above a stream              
,that far away is flowing4              
,how vile and incomplete                
,wealth is1 let this declare            
,however great the heap may be          
,it brings no peace1 but care4          
,and hence the upright mind1            
,to its own purpose true1               
,stands firm although the flood of      
wealth            ,sweep onward out of  
view            ,they will not have the 
vile            ,turn noble1 nor descent

          ,from parent vile produce a   
race            ,for ever eminent4      
,yet this1 they say1 can be1            
,their reason halts behind1             
,since time they suit to noble birth    
,by course of time defined4             
,it follows then from this              
,that all are high or base1          ,or
 that in ,time there never was          
,beginning to our race4            ,but 
that ,i cannot hold1            ,nor    
yet1 if ,christians1 they2              
,sound intellect reproves their words   
,as false1 and turns away4              
,and now ,i seek to tell1            ,as
 it appears to me1          ,what is1   
whence comes1 what signs attest         
,a true ,nobility4            ,i say    
that from one root            ,each     
,virtue firstly springs1                
,virtue1 ,i mean1 that ,happiness       
,to man1 by action1 brings4             
,this1 as the ,ethics teach1            
,is habit of right choice          ,that
 holds the means between extremes1      

,so spake that noble voice4             
,nobility by right            ,no other 
sense has had          ,than to import  
its subject's good1            ,as      
vileness makes him bad4            ,such
 virtue shows its good            ,to   
others' intellect1          ,for when   
two things agree in one1                
,producing one effect4            ,one  
must from other come1            ,or    
each one from a third1          ,if each
 be as each1 and more1 then one         
,from the other is inferred4            
,where ,virtue is1 there is             
,a ,nobleman1 although          ,not    
where there is a ,nobleman              
,must ,virtue be also4            ,so   
likewise that is ,heaven                
,wherein a star is hung1          ,but  
,heaven may be starless2 so             
,in women and the young            ,a   
modesty is seen1            ,not virtue1
 noble yet2          ,comes virtue from 
what's noble1 as            ,from black 
comes violet2            ,or from the   

parent root            ,it springs1 as  
said before1          ,and so let no one
 vaunt that him4            ,a noble    
mother bore4            ,they are as    
,gods whom ,grace            ,has placed
 beyond all sin3          ,god only     
gives it to the ,soul            ,that  
,he finds pure within4            ,that 
seed of ,happiness            ,falls in 
the hearts of few1          ,planted by 
,god within the ,souls                  
,spread to receive ,his dew4            
,souls whom this ,grace adorns          
,declare it in each breath1             
,from birth that joins the flesh and    
soul            ,they show it until     
death4            ,in ,childhood they   
obey1            ,are gentle1 modest1   
heed          ,to furnish ,virtue's     
person with            ,the graces it   
may need4            ,are temperate in  
,youth1            ,and resolutely      
strong1          ,love much1 win praise 
for courtesy1            ,are loyal1    
hating wrong4            ,are prudent in

 their ,age1            ,and generous   
and just1          ,and glad at heart to
 hear and speak            ,when good to
 man's discussed4            ,the fourth
 part of their life            ,weds    
them again to ,god1          ,they wait1
 and contemplate the end1               
,and bless the paths they trod4         
,how many are deceived6 ,my ,song1      
,against the strayers3 when you reach   
,our ,lady1 hide not from her that your 
end        ,is labour that would lessen 
wrong1          ,and tell her too1 in   
trusty speech1      ,i travel ever      
talking of your ,friend4                
,,chapter ,i4      ,love1 according to  
the unanimous opinion of the wise men   
who discourse  of him1 and as by        
experience we see continually1 is that  
which brings  together and unites the   
lover with the beloved2 wherefore       
,pythagoras  says1 ,in friendship many  
become one4    ,and the things which are
 united naturally communicate their     
qualities  to each other1 insomuch that 

sometimes it happens that one is wholly 
changed into the nature of the other1   
the result being that the  passions of  
the beloved person enter into the person
 of the lover1 so  that the love of the 
one is communicated to the other1 and so
 likewise  hatred1 desire1 and every    
other passion2 wherefore the friends of 
the  one are beloved by the other1 and  
the enemies hated2 and so in the  ,greek
 proverb it is said3 ,with friends all  
things ought to be in  common4          
,wherefore ,i1 having made a friend of  
this ,lady1 mentioned above in the      
truthful exposition1 began to love and  
to hate according to her love  and her  
hatred4 ,i then began to love the       
followers of ,truth1 and to  hate the   
followers of ,error and ,falsehood1 even
 as she does4 ,but since  each thing is 
to be loved for itself and none are to  
be hated except  for excess of evil1 it 
is reasonable and upright to hate not   
the  things1 but the evil in the things1
 and to endeavour to distinguish        

between these4 ,and if any person has   
this intention1 my most excellent  ,lady
 understands especially how to          
distinguish the evil in anything1  which
 is the cause of hate2 since in her is  
all ,reason1 and in her is  the         
fountain-head of all uprightness4    ,i1
 following her as much as ,i could in   
her work as in her love1  abominated and
 despised the errors of the people with 
infamy or  reproach1 not cast on those  
lost in error1 but on the errors        
themselves2 by blaming which1 ,i thought
 to create displeasure and to  separate 
the displeased ones from those faults in
 them which were  hated by me4 ,amongst 
which errors one especially ,i reproved1
 which1  because it is hurtful and      
dangerous not only to those who remain  
in  it1 but also to others who reprove  
it1 ,i separate it from them and        
condemn4    ,this is the error          
concerning ,human ,goodness1 which1     
inasmuch as it is  sown in us by        
,nature1 ought to be termed ,nobility2  

which error was so  strongly entrenched 
by evil custom and by weak intellect    
that the  opinion of almost all people  
was falsified or deceived by it2 and    
from  the false opinion sprang false    
judgments1 and from false judgments     
sprang unjust reverence and unjust      
contempt2 wherefore the good were  held 
in vile disdain1 and the evil were      
honoured and exalted4 ,this was  the    
worst confusion in the world2 even as he
 can see who looks subtly  at that which
 may result from it4 ,and though it     
seemed that this my  ,lady had somewhat 
changed her sweet countenance towards   
me1 especially  where ,i gazed and      
sought to discover whether the first    
,matter of the  ,elements was created by
 ,god1 for which reason ,i strengthened 
myself to  frequent her presence a      
little1 as if remaining there with her  
assent1  ,i began to consider in my mind
 the fault of man concerning the said   
error4 ,and to shun sloth1 which is an  
especial enemy of this ,lady1 and  to   

describe or state this error very       
clearly1 this error which robs  her of  
so many friends1 ,i proposed to cry     
aloud to the people who are  walking in 
the path of evil1 in order that they    
might direct their  steps to the right  
road2 and ,i began a ,song1 in the      
beginning of which  ,i said1 ,soft      
rhymes of love ,i used to find1 wherein 
,i intend to lead  the people back into 
the right path1 the path of right       
knowledge  concerning true ,nobility1 as
 by the knowledge of its text1 to the   
explanation of which ,i now turn my     
attention1 any one will be able to      
perceive4    ,and since the intention of
 this ,song is directed to a remedy so  
requisite1 it was not well to speak     
under any figure of speech2 but it  was 
needful to prepare this medicine        
speedily1 that speedy might be  the     
restoration to health1 which1 being so  
corrupted1 hastened to a  hideous death4
 ,it will not1 then1 be requisite in the
 exposition of  this ,song to unveil any

 allegory1 but simply to discuss its    
meaning  according to the letter4 ,by my
 ,lady ,i always mean her who is spoken 
of  in the preceding ,song1 that is to  
say1 that ,light of supreme virtue1     
,philosophy1 whose rays cause the       
flowers of true ,nobility to blossom    
forth in mankind and to bear fruit in   
the sons of men2 concerning  which true 
,nobility the proposed ,song fully      
intends to treat4          ,,chapter    
,,ii4      ,in the beginning of the     
explanation now undertaken1 in order to 
render  the meaning of the proposed     
,song more clear and distinct1 it is    
requisite to divide that first part into
 two parts1 for in the first  part one  
speaks in the manner of a ,proem or     
,preface2 in the second1  the subject   
under discussion is continued2 and the  
second part begins  in the commencement 
of the stanza1 where it says3           
,one raised to ,empire held1        ,as 
far as he could see1      ,descent of   
wealth1 and generous ways1        ,to   

make ,nobility4    ,the first part1     
again1 can be comprehended in three     
divisions or  members4 ,in the first it 
states why ,i depart from my usual mode 
of  speech2 in the second1 ,i say of    
what it is my intention to discourse2   
in the third1 ,i call upon that ,helper 
who most can aid me to establish        
,truth4 ,the second member1 clause1 or  
division begins3 ,and since time  suits 
me now4 ,the third begins3 ,first       
calling on that ,lord4 ,i say  then that
 ,i was compelled to abandon the soft   
rhymes of ,love which ,i  was accustomed
 to search for in my thoughts1 and ,i   
assign the reason  or cause2 wherefore  
,i say that it is not because ,i have   
given up all  intention of making rhymes
 of ,love1 but because new aspects have 
appeared in my ,lady which have deprived
 me of material for present  speech of  
,love4 ,where it is to be known that it 
does not here say that  the gestures of 
this ,lady are disdainful and angry     
according to  appearance only1 as may be

 seen in the tenth chapter of the       
preceding  treatise2 for at another time
 ,i say that the appearance is contrary 
to  the ,truth2 and how this can be1 how
 one self-same thing can be sweet  and  
appear bitter1 or rather be clear and   
appear obscure1 may there be  seen      
clearly enough4    ,afterwards when ,i  
say1 ,and since time suits1 ,i say1 even
 as has been  said1 what that is whereof
 ,i intend to discourse4 ,and that which
 it  says in the words time suits is not
 here to be passed over with a  dry     
foot1 because there is a most powerful  
reason for my action2 but  it is to be  
seen how reasonably time must wait on   
all our acts1 and  especially on speech4
    ,time1 according to what ,aristotle 
says in the fourth chapter of  ,physics1
 is the number of movement1 first1      
second1 and onwards2 and  the number of 
the celestial movement1 which prepares  
the things here  below to receive in    
various ways any informing power4 ,for  
the ,earth is  prepared in one way in   

the beginning of ,spring to receive into
 itself  the informing power of the     
herbs and flowers1 and the ,winter      
otherwise2 and in one manner is one     
season prepared to receive the  seed1   
differing from another4 ,and even so our
 ,mind1 inasmuch as it is  founded upon 
the temper of the body1 which has to    
follow the  revolution of the ,heaven1  
at one time is disposed in one way1 at  
another time in another way2 wherefore  
words1 which are1 as it were1  the seeds
 of actions1 ought very discreetly to be
 withheld or uttered2  they should be   
spoken with such sound judgment that    
they may be well  received1 and good    
fruit follow from them2 not withheld or 
spent so  sparingly that barrenness is  
the result of their defective utterance4
  ,and therefore a suitable time should 
be chosen1 both for him who  speaks and 
for him who must hear3 for if the       
speaker is badly  prepared1 very often  
his words are injurious or hurtful2 and 
if the  hearer is ill-disposed1 those   

words which are good are ill received4  
,and therefore ,solomon says in         
,ecclesiastes3 ,there is a time to      
speak1  and a time to be silent4        
,wherefore ,i1 feeling within myself    
that my  disposition to speak of ,love  
was disturbed1 for the cause which has  
been mentioned in the preceding chapter1
 it seemed to me that the time  might   
suit me now1 time which bears with it   
the fulfilment of every  desire1 and    
appears in the guise of a generous giver
 to those who  grudge not to await him  
patiently4 ,wherefore ,st4 ,james says  
in his  ,epistle1 in the fifth chapter3 
,behold1 the husbandman waiteth for the 
precious fruit of the ,earth1 and hath  
long patience for it1 until he  receive 
the early and the latter rain4 ,for all 
our sorrows1 or cares1  or vexations1 if
 we inquire diligently into their       
origin1 proceed1 as  it were1 from not  
knowing the use of time4 ,i say1 since  
the time  suits1 ,i will leave my pen   
alone1 that is to say1 the sweet or     

gentle  style ,i used when ,i sang of   
,love2 and ,i say that ,i will speak of 
that  worth whereby a man is truly      
noble4    ,and as it is possible to     
understand worth in many ways1 here ,i  
intend  to assume worth to be a power of
 ,nature1 or rather a goodness bestowed 
by her1 as will be seen in what follows2
 and ,i promise to discourse on  this   
subject with a rhyme subtle and severe4 
,wherefore it is requisite to know that 
rhyme may be considered in a  double    
sense1 that is to say1 in a wide and in 
a narrow sense4 ,in the  narrow sense1  
it is understood as that concordance    
which in the last  and in the           
penultimate syllable it is usual to     
make4 ,in the wide  sense1 it is        
understood for all that language which1 
with numbers and  regulated time1 falls 
into rhymed consonance2 and thus it is  
desired  that it should be taken and    
understood in this ,proem4 ,and         
therefore it  says severe1 with         
reference to the sound of the style1    

which to such  a subject must not be    
sweet and pleasing2 and it says subtle1 
with  regard to the meaning of the      
words1 which proceed with subtle        
argument  and disputation4    ,and ,i   
subjoin3 hold false and vile ,the       
judgment2 where again it is  promised to
 confute the judgment of the people full
 of error3 false1  that is1 removed from
 the ,truth2 and vile1 that is to say1  
affirmed  and fortified by vileness of  
mind4 ,and it is to be observed that in 
this ,proem ,i promise1 firstly1 to     
treat of the ,truth1 and then to        
confute the ,false2 and in the treatise 
the opposite is done1 for1 in  the first
 place1 ,i confute the ,false1 and then 
treat of the ,truth1  which does not    
appear rightly according to the promise4
 ,and therefore  it is to be known that1
 although the intention is to speak of  
both1  the principal intention is to    
handle the ,truth2 and the intention is 
to reprove the ,false or ,untrue1 in so 
far as by so doing ,i make the  ,truth  

appear more excellent4    ,and here1 in 
the first place1 the promise is to speak
 of the ,truth  according to the chief  
intention1 which creates in the minds of
 the  hearers a desire to hear2 for in  
the first treatise ,i reprove the       
,false of ,untrue in order that1 the    
false opinions being chased away1  the  
,truth may be received more freely4 ,and
 this method was adopted by  the master 
of human argument1 ,aristotle1 who      
always in the first place  fought with  
the adversaries of ,truth1 and then1    
having vanquished  them1 revealed or    
demonstrated ,truth itself4    ,finally1
 when ,i say1 ,first calling on that    
,lord1 ,i appeal to ,truth  to be with  
me1 ,truth being that ,lord who dwells  
in the eyes of  ,philosophy1 that is to 
say1 in her demonstrations4 ,and indeed 
,truth is  that ,lord2 for the ,soul    
espoused to ,truth is the bride of      
,truth1 and  otherwise it is a slave or 
servant deprived of all liberty4    ,and
 it says1 my ,lady learnt ,herself to   

love and prize1 because this            
,philosophy1 which has been said in the 
preceding treatise to be a  loving use  
of ,wisdom1 beholds herself when the    
beauty of her eyes  appears to her4 ,and
 what else is there to be said1 except  
that the  ,philosophic ,soul not only   
contemplates this ,truth1 but again     
contemplates her own contemplation and  
the beauty of that1 again  revolving    
upon herself1 and being enamoured with  
herself on account of  the beauty of her
 first glance8    ,and thus ends this   
which1 as a ,proem or ,preface in three 
divisions1  heads the present treatise4 
,,chapter ,,iii4      ,having seen the  
meaning of the ,proem1 we must now      
follow the treatise1  and1 to           
demonstrate it clearly1 it must be      
divided into its chief  parts1 which are
 three4    ,in the first1 one treats of 
,nobility according to the opinion of   
other  men2 in the second1 one treats of
 it according to the true opinion2 in   
the third1 one addresses speech to the  

,song by way of ornament to that  which 
has been said4 ,the second part begins3 
,i say that from one root  ,each ,virtue
 firstly springs4 ,the third begins3    
,how many are  deceived6 ,my ,song1     
,against the strayers4 ,and after these 
general  parts1 it will be right to make
 other divisions1 in order to make the  
meaning of the demonstration clear4     
,therefore1 let no one marvel if it     
proceed with many divisions1 since a    
great and high work is now on my  hands1
 and one that is but little entered upon
 by authors2 the  treatise must be long 
and subtle into which the reader now    
enters with  me1 if ,i am to unfold     
perfectly the text according to the     
meaning  which it bears4    ,i say1     
then1 that this first part is now       
divided into two3 for in the  first1 the
 opinions of others are placed2 in the  
second1 those  opinions are confuted2   
and this second part begins3 ,whoever   
shall  define ,the man a living tree4   
,again1 the first part which remains has

  two clauses3 the first is the         
variation of the opinion of the         
,emperor2  the second is the variation  
of the opinion of the ,common ,people1  
which  is naked or void of all reason2  
and this second clause or division      
begins3 ,another1 lightly wise4 ,i say  
then1 ,one raised to ,empire1  that is  
to say1 such an one made use of the     
,imperial ,office4 ,where it  is to be  
known that ,frederick of ,suabia1 the   
last ,emperor of the  ,romans 7,i say   
last with respect to the present time1  
notwithstanding  that ,rudolf1 and      
,adolphus1 and ,albert were elected     
after his death and  from his           
descendants71 being asked what ,nobility
 might be1 replied  that it was ancient 
wealth1 and good manners4    ,and ,i say
 that there was another of less wisdom1 
who1 pondering and  revolving this      
definition in every part1 removed the   
last particle1  that is1 the good       
manners1 and held to the first1 that is1
 to the  ancient riches4 ,and as he     

seems to have doubted the text1 perhaps 
through not having good manners1 and not
 wishing to lose the title of           
,nobility1 he defined it according to   
that which made himself noble1  namely1 
possession of ancient wealth4    ,and ,i
 say that this opinion is that of almost
 all1 saying that after  it go all the  
people who make those men noble who have
 a long  pedigree1 and who have been    
rich through many generations2 since in 
this cry do almost all men bark4        
,these two opinions 7although one1 as   
has been said1 is of no  consequence    
whatever7 seem to have two very grave   
arguments in support  of them4 ,the     
first is1 that the ,philosopher says    
that whatever appears  true to the      
greatest number cannot be entirely      
false4 ,the second is1  the authority of
 the definition by an ,emperor4 ,and    
that one may the  better see the power  
of the ,truth1 which conquers all other 
authority1  ,i intend to argue with the 
one reason as with the other1 to which  

it  is a strong helper and powerful aid4
    ,and1 firstly1 one cannot understand
 ,imperial authority until the roots  of
 it are found4 ,it is our intention to  
treat or discourse of them in  an       
especial chapter4          ,,chapter    
,,iv4      ,the radical foundation of   
,imperial ,majesty1 according to the    
,truth1 is  the necessity of ,human     
,civilization1 which is ordained to one 
end1  that is1 to a ,happy ,life4       
,nothing is of itself sufficient to     
attain  this without some external help1
 since man has need of many things      
which one person alone is unable to     
obtain4 ,and therefore the  ,philosopher
 says that man is naturally a           
companionable animal4 ,and as  a man    
requires for his sufficient comfort the 
domestic companionship  of a family1 so 
a house requires for its sufficient     
comfort a  neighbourhood2 otherwise     
there would be many wants to endure     
which  would be an obstacle to          
happiness4 ,and since a neighbourhood   

cannot  satisfy all requirements1 there 
must for the satisfaction of men be  the
 ,city4 ,again1 the ,city requires for  
its ,arts and ,manufactures to  have an 
environment1 as also for its defence1   
and to have brotherly  intercourse with 
the circumjacent or adjacent ,cities1   
and thence the  ,kingdom4    ,but since 
the human mind in restricted possession 
of the ,earth finds  no peace1 but      
always desires to acquire ,glory1 as we 
see by  experience1 discords and wars   
must arise between realm and realm4     
,these are the tribulation of ,cities2  
and through the ,cities1 of the         
neighbourhoods2 and through the         
neighbourhoods1 of the houses2 and      
through the houses1 of men2 and thus is 
the happiness of man prevented  or      
obstructed4 ,wherefore1 in order to     
prevent these wars1 and to  remove the  
causes of them through all the ,earth1  
so far as it is given  to the ,human    
,race to possess it1 there must of      
necessity be ,monarchy1  that is to say1

 one sole principality2 and there must  
be one ,prince1  who1 possessing all1   
and not being able to desire more1 holds
 the  ,kings content within the limits  
of the kingdoms1 so that peace may be   
between them1 wherein the ,cities may   
repose1 and in this rest the            
neighbouring hamlets may dwell together 
in mutual love2 in this love  the houses
 obtain all they need1 which1 being     
obtained1 men can live  happily1 which  
is that end for which man was born4 ,and
 to these  reasons might be applied the 
words of the ,philosopher1 for he says1 
in  the book ,on ,politics1 that when   
many things are ordained to one end1    
one of those must be the ruling power1  
and all the others must be  governed by 
that4 ,even as we see in a ship that the
 different offices  and the different   
means to different ends in that ship are
 ordained to  one end alone1 that is to 
say1 to reach the desired port by a safe
  voyage1 where as each officer orders  
his own work to the proper end1  even so

 there is one who considers all these   
ends1 and ordains those  to the final   
one2 and this is the ,pilot1 whose voice
 all must obey4    ,we see this also in 
the religious bodies and in the military
 bodies1  in all those things which are 
ordained to one end1 as has been said4  
,wherefore it can plainly be seen that  
to attain the perfection of the         
,universal ,union of the ,human ,race   
there must be one ,pilot1 as it were1   
who1 considering the different          
conditions of the ,world1 and ordaining 
the different and needful offices1 may  
hold or possess over the whole  the     
universal and incontestable office of   
,command4 ,and this office is  well     
designated ,empire1 without any         
addition1 because it is of all  other   
governments the government2 and so he   
who is appointed to this  office is     
designated ,emperor1 because of all     
,governors he is the  ,governor1 and    
what he says is ,law to all1 and ought  
by all to be  obeyed2 and every other   

government derives vigour and authority 
from  the government of this man4 ,and  
thus it is evident that the ,imperial   
,majesty and ,authority is the most     
exalted in the ,human ,family4    ,no   
doubt it would be possible for some one 
to cavil1 saying1 that  although the    
office of ,empire may be required in the
 ,world1 that does  not make the        
authority of the ,roman ,prince         
rationally supreme1 which  it is the    
intention of the treatise to prove2     
since the ,roman ,power  was acquired1  
not by ,reason nor by decree of         
,universal ,election1 but  by ,force1   
which seems to be opposed to ,reason4   
,to this one can easily  reply1 that the
 election of this ,supreme ,official    
must primarily  proceed from that       
,council which foresees all things1 that
 is1 ,god2  otherwise the election would
 not have been of equal benefit for all 
the people1 since1 before the           
pre-ordained ,official1 there was none  
who had the good of all at heart4       

,and since a gentler nature in ruling1  
and a stronger in maintaining1  and a   
more subtle in acquiring never was and  
never will be than that  of the ,latin  
,people1 as one can see by experience1  
and especially that  of the ,holy       
,people1 in whom was blended the noble  
,trojan blood2 to  that office it was   
elected by ,god4 ,wherefore1 since1 to  
obtain it1 not  without very great power
 could it be approached1 and to employ  
it a  most exalted and most humane      
benignity was required1 this was the    
people which was most fitly prepared for
 it4 ,hence not by ,force was it        
assumed in the first place by the ,roman
 ,people but by ,divine  ,ordinance1    
which is above all ,reason4 ,and ,virgil
 is in harmony with  this in the first  
book of the neid1 when he says1 speaking
 in the  person of ,god3 ,on these that 
is1 on the ,romans ,i impose no limits  
to their possessions1 nor to their      
duration2 to them ,i have given         
boundless ,empire4 ,force1 then1 was not

 the moving cause1 as he  believed who  
was cavilling2 but there was an         
instrumental cause even  as the blows of
 the hammer are the cause of the knife1 
and the soul of  the workman is the     
moving and the efficient cause2 and     
thus1 not  force1 but a cause1 even a   
,divine ,cause1 has been the origin of  
the  ,roman ,empire4    ,and that this  
is so it is possible to see by two most 
evident reasons1  which prove that ,city
 to be the ,empress1 and to have from   
,god an  especial birth1 and to have    
from ,god an especial success4 ,but     
since in  this chapter without too great
 length it would not be possible to     
discuss this subject1 and long chapters 
are the enemies of ,memory1 ,i  will    
again make a digression in another      
chapter in order to prove the  reasons  
here alluded to1 which are not without  
and may give great  pleasure4           
,,chapter ,v4      ,it is no cause for  
wonder if the ,divine ,providence1 which
 surpasses  beyond measure all angelic  

and human foresight1 often appears to us
 to  proceed mysteriously1 since many   
times human actions conceal their       
motives from men4 ,but there is great   
cause for wonder when the  execution of 
the ,eternal ,counsel proceeds so       
evidently that our reason  can discern  
it4 ,and therefore in the beginning of  
this chapter ,i can  speak with the     
mouth of ,solomon1 who1 in the person of
 ,wisdom1 says in  his ,proverbs3 ,hear1
 for ,i will speak of excellent things6 
,the ,divine ,goodness unmeasureable1   
desiring to conform again to ,itself    
the ,human ,creature1 which1 through the
 sin of the prevarication of the  first 
,man1 was separated from ,god and       
deformed thereby1 it was  decided1 in   
that most exalted and most united       
,divine ,consistory of the  ,trinity1   
that the ,son of ,god should descend to 
the ,earth to accomplish  this union4   
,and since at ,his advent into the      
world1 not only ,heaven1  but ,earth1   
must be in the best disposition2 and the

 best disposition  of the ,earth is when
 it is a ,monarchy1 that is to say1 all 
subject to  one ,prince1 as has been    
said above1 by ,divine ,providence it   
was  ordained what people and what city 
should fulfil this1 and that people  was
 the ,roman nation1 and that city was   
glorious ,rome4 ,and since the  ,inn    
also wherein the ,heavenly ,king must   
enter must of necessity be  most cleanly
 and most pure1 there was ordained a    
most ,holy ,race1 from  which1 after    
many excellent or just ancestors1 there 
should be born a  ,woman more perfect   
than all others1 who should be the abode
 of the ,son  of ,god4 ,and this race   
was the ,race of ,david1 from which was 
born the  glory and honour of the ,human
 ,race1 that is to say1 ,mary4 ,and     
therefore it is written in ,isaiah3 ,a  
virgin shall be born of the stem  of    
,jesse1 and a branch shall grow out of  
his roots4 ,and ,jesse was the  father  
of the aforesaid ,david4 ,and it        
happened at one period of time  that    

when ,david was born1 ,rome was born1   
that is to say1 neas then  came from    
,troy to ,italy1 which was the origin of
 the most noble ,roman  ,city1 even as  
the written word bears witness4 ,evident
 enough1  therefore1 is the ,divine     
election of the ,roman ,empire by the   
birth of  the ,holy ,city1 which was    
contemporaneous with the root of the    
race  from which ,mary sprang4    ,and  
incidentally it is to be mentioned that1
 since this ,heaven began  to revolve1  
it never was in a better disposition    
than when ,he  descended from on high1  
,he who had made it and who is its      
,ruler1 even  as again by virtue of     
their arts the ,mathematicians may be   
able to  discover4 ,the ,world never was
 nor ever will be so perfectly prepared 
as then1 when it was governed by the    
voice of one man alone1 ,prince  and    
,commander of the ,roman people1 even as
 ,luke the ,evangelist bears  witness4  
,and therefore there was ,universal     
,peace1 which never was  again nor ever 

will be1 for the ,ship of the ,human    
,family rightly by a  sweet pathway was 
hastening to its rightful haven4 ,oh1   
ineffable and  incomprehensible ,wisdom 
of ,god1 which in ,heaven above didst   
prepare1  so long beforehand1 for ,thy  
advent into ,syria and here in ,italy at
 the  same time6 ,and oh1 most foolish  
and vile beasts who pasture in the      
guise of men--you who presume to speak  
against our ,faith1 and profess  to     
know1 as ye spin and dig1 what ,god has 
ordained with so much                   
forethought--curses be on you and your  
presumption1 and on him who  believes in
 you6    ,and1 as has been said above1  
at the end of the preceding chapter1 the
  ,roman ,people had from ,god not only 
an especial birth1 but an especial      
success2 for1 briefly1 from ,romulus1   
who was the first father of ,rome1  even
 to its most perfect era1 that is1 to   
the time of its predicted  ,emperor1 its
 success was achieved not only by human1
 but by ,divine  means4 ,for if we      

consider the ,seven ,kings who first    
governed  it--,romulus1 ,numa1 ,tullus1 
,ancus ,martius1 ,servius ,tullius1 and 
the  ,tarquins1 who were1 as it were1   
the nurses and tutors of its            
,childhood--we shall be able to find1 by
 the written word of ,roman  ,history1  
especially by ,titus ,livius1 those to  
have been of different  natures1        
according to the opportunity of the     
advancing tract of time4  ,if we        
consider1 then1 its ,adolescence1 when  
it was emancipated from  the regal      
tutorship by ,brutus1 the first ,consul1
 even to ,csar1 its  first supreme      
,prince1 we shall find it exalted1 not  
with human1 but  with ,divine citizens1 
into whom1 not human1 but ,divine love  
was  inspired in loving ,rome2 and this 
neither could be nor ought to be1       
except for an especial end intended by  
,god through such infusion of a         
heavenly spirit4 ,and who will say that 
there was no ,divine inspiration  in    
,fabricius when he rejected an almost   

infinite amount of gold  because he was 
unwilling to abandon his country8 or in 
,curius1 whom  the ,samnites attempted  
to corrupt1 who said1 when refusing a   
very  large quantity of gold for love of
 his country1 that the ,roman  citizens 
did not desire to possess gold1 but the 
possessors of the  gold8 ,who will say  
there was no ,divine inspiration in     
,mutius burning  his own hand because it
 had failed in the blow wherewith he had
  thought to deliver ,rome8 ,who will   
say of ,torquatus1 who sentenced his    
own son to death from love to the       
,public ,good1 that he could have       
endured this without a ,divine ,helper8 
,who will say this of the ,brutus       
before mentioned8 ,who will say it of   
the ,decii and of the ,drusi1 who  laid 
down their lives for their country8 ,who
 will say of the captive  ,regulus of   
,carthage1 sent to ,rome to exchange the
 ,carthaginian  prisoners for ,roman    
prisoners of war1 who1 after having     
explained the  object of his embassy1   

gave counsel against himself2 through   
pure love  to ,rome1 that he was moved  
to do this by the impulse of ,human     
,nature  alone8 ,who will say it of     
,quinctius ,cincinnatus1 who1 taken from
 the  plough and made dictator1 after   
the time of office had expired1         
spontaneously refusing its continuance1 
followed his plough again8 ,who  will   
say of ,camillus1 banished and chased   
into exile1 who1 having come  to deliver
 ,rome from her enemies1 and having     
accomplished her  liberation1           
spontaneously returned into exile in    
order not to offend  against the        
authority of the ,senate1 that he was   
without ,divine  inspiration8 ,o1 most  
sacred heart of ,cato1 who shall presume
 to speak  of thee8 ,truly1 to speak    
freely of thee is not possible2 it were 
better to be silent and to follow       
,jerome1 when1 in the ,preface of the   
,bible where he alludes to ,paul1 he    
says that it were better to be  silent  
than say little4 ,certainly it must be  

evident1 remembering the  lives of these
 men and of the other ,divine citizens1 
that such wonders  could not have been  
without some light of the ,divine       
,goodness1 added  to their own goodness 
of nature4 ,and it must be evident that 
these  most excellent men were          
instruments with which ,divine          
,providence  worked in the building up  
of the ,roman ,empire1 wherein many     
times the  arm of ,god appeared to be   
present4 ,and did not ,god put ,his own 
hand to  the battle wherein the ,albans 
fought with the ,romans in the beginning
  for the chief dominion1 when one      
,roman alone held in his hands the      
liberty of ,rome8 ,and did not ,god     
interfere with ,his own hands when the  
,franks1 having taken all ,rome1        
attacked by stealth the ,capitol by     
night1 and the voice alone of a goose   
caused this to be known8 ,and did  not  
,god interfere with ,his own hands when1
 in the war with ,hannibal1  having lost
 so many citizens that three bushels of 

rings were carried  into ,africa1 the   
,romans wished to abandon the land1 if  
the blessed  ,scipio the younger had not
 undertaken his expedition into ,africa 
for  the recovery of freedom8 ,and did  
not ,god interfere with ,his own hands  
when a new citizen of humble station1   
,tullius1 defended1 against such  a     
citizen as ,catiline1 the ,roman        
liberty8 ,yes1 surely4 ,wherefore one   
should not need to inquire further to   
see that an especial birth and  an      
especial success were in the ,mind of   
,god decreed to that holy ,city4  ,and  
certainly ,i am of a firm opinion that  
the stones which remain in  her walls   
are worthy of reverence2 and it is      
asserted and proved that  the ground    
whereon she stands is worthy beyond all 
other that is  occupied by man4         
,,chapter ,,vi4      ,above1 in the     
third chapter of this treatise1 a       
promise was made to  discourse of the   
supremacy of the ,imperial ,authority   
and of the  ,philosophic ,authority4    

,and since the ,imperial ,authority has 
been  discussed1 my digression must now 
proceed further in order to consider    
that of the ,philosopher1 according to  
the promise made4    ,and here we must  
first see what is the meaning of this   
word2 since  here there is a greater    
necessity to understand it than there   
was  above in the argument on the       
,imperial ,authority1 which1 on account 
of  its ,majesty1 does not seem to be   
doubted4 ,it is then to be known that   
,authority is no other than the act of  
the ,author4    ,this word1 that is to  
say1 ,auctore1 without this third       
letter1  c1 can be derived from two     
roots4 ,one is from a verb1 whose use   
in grammar is much abandoned1 which     
signifies to bind or to tie words       
together1 that is1 ,a ,u ,i ,e ,o2 and  
whoso looks well at it in its first     
vowel or syllable will clearly perceive 
that it demonstrates it  itself1 for it 
is constituted solely of a tie of words1
 that is1 of  five vowels alone1 which  

are the soul and bond of every word1 and
  composed of them in a twisted way1 to 
figure the image of a ligature2  for    
beginning with the ,a1 then it twists   
round into the ,u1 and comes  straight  
through the ,i into the ,e1 then it     
revolves and turns round  into the ,o3  
so that truly this figure represents ,a1
 ,e1 ,i1 ,o1 ,u1 which  is the figure or
 form of a tie2 and how much ,autore    
7,author7  derives its origin from this 
word1 one learns from the poets alone1  
who have bound their words together with
 the art of harmony2 but on  this       
signification we do not at present      
dwell4 ,the other root from  which the  
word ,autore 7,author7 is derived1 as   
,uguccione testifies in  the beginning  
of his ,derivations1 is a ,greek word1  
,autentim1 which  in ,latin means worthy
 of faith and obedience4 ,and thus      
,autore  7,author71 derived from this1  
is taken for any person worthy to be    
believed and obeyed2 and thence comes   
this word1 of which one treats  at the  

present moment1 that is to say1         
,authority4 ,wherefore one can  see that
 ,authority is equivalent to an act     
worthy of faith and  obedience4    ,here
 is a small break in the original1      
containing some such words  as--,worthy1
 nay1 most worthy1 of obedience and of  
faith is ,aristotle3  hence it is       
evident that his words are a supreme and
 chief ,authority4  ,that ,aristotle is 
most worthy of faith and obedience1 one 
can thus  prove4 ,amongst workmen and   
artificers of different ,arts and       
,manufactures1 which are all directed to
 one final work of ,art1 or to  one     
building1 the ,artificer or ,designer of
 that work must be  completely believed 
in1 and implicitly obeyed by all1 as the
 man who  alone beholds the ultimate end
 of all the other ends4 ,hence the      
sword-cutler must believe in the knight1
 so must the bridle-maker and           
saddle-maker and the shield-maker1 and  
all those trades which are  appointed to
 the profession of knighthood4 ,and     

since all human actions  require an aim1
 which is that of human life1 to which  
man is appointed  inasmuch as he is man1
 the master and artificer who considers 
that aim  and demonstrates it ought     
especially to be believed in and obeyed2
 and  he is ,aristotle2 wherefore he is 
most worthy of faith and obedience4     
,and in order to see how ,aristotle is  
the master and leader of ,human  ,reason
 in so far as it aims at its final      
operation1 it is requisite to  know that
 this our aim of life1 which each one   
naturally desires1 in  most ancient     
times was searched for by the ,wise     
,men2 and since those  who desire this  
end are so numerous1 and their desires  
are as it were  all singularly          
different1 although they exist in us    
universally1 it  was nevertheless very  
difficult to discern that end whereon   
rightly  each human appetite or desire  
might repose4    ,there were then many  
ancient philosophers1 the first and the 
chief of  whom was ,zeno1 who saw and   

believed this end of human life to be   
solely a rigid honesty1 that is to say1 
rigid without regard to any  one in     
following ,truth and ,justice1 to show  
no sorrow1 to show no joy1  to have no  
sense of any passion whatever4 ,and they
 defined thus this  honest uprightness1 
as that which1 without bearing fruit1 is
 to be  praised for reason of itself4   
,and these men and their sect were      
called  ,stoics2 and that glorious ,cato
 was one of them1 of whom in the        
previous chapter ,i had not courage     
enough to speak4    ,other philosophers 
there were who saw and believed         
otherwise2 and of  these the first and  
chief was a philosopher1 who was named  
,epicurus1  who1 seeing that each animal
 as soon as it is born is as it were    
directed by ,nature to its right end1   
which shuns pain and seeks for          
pleasure1 said that this end or aim of  
ours was enjoyment4 ,i do not  say      
greedy enjoyment1 voluntade1 but ,i     
write it with a p1  voluptate1 that is1 

delight or pleasure free from pain2 and 
therefore  between pleasure and pain no 
mean was placed4 ,he said that pleasure 
was no other than no pain2 as ,tullius  
seems to say in the first  chapter ,de  
,finibus4 ,and of these1 who from       
,epicurus are named  ,epicureans1 was   
,torquatus1 a noble ,roman1 descended   
from the blood of  the glorious         
,torquatus mention of whom ,i made      
above4 ,there were  others1 and they had
 their rise from ,socrates1 and then    
from his  successor1 ,plato1 who1       
looking more subtly1 and seeing that in 
our  actions it was possible to sin1 and
 that one sinned in too much and in  too
 little1 said that our action1 without  
excess and without defect1  measured to 
the due mean of our own choice1 is      
virtue1 and virtue is  the aim of man2  
and they called it action with virtue4  
,and these were  called ,academicians1  
as was ,plato and ,speusippus1 his      
nephew2 they  were thus called from the 
place where ,plato taught1 that is1 the 

,academy2 neither from ,socrates did    
they take or assume any word1  because  
in his ,philosophy nothing was affirmed4
 ,truly ,aristotle1 who  had his surname
 from ,stagira1 and ,xenocrates of      
,chalcedon1 his  companion1 through the 
genius1 almost ,divine1 which ,nature   
had put  into ,aristotle1 knowing this  
end by means of the ,socratic method1   
with  the ,academic file1 as it were1   
reduced ,moral ,philosophy to           
perfection1  and especially ,aristotle4 
,and since ,aristotle began to reason   
while  walking hither and thither1 they 
were called1 he1 ,i say1 and his        
companions1 ,peripatetics1 which means  
the same as walkers about4 ,and  since  
the perfection of this ,morality by     
,aristotle was attained1 the  name of   
,academician became extinct1 and all    
those who attached  themselves to this  
sect are called ,peripatetics1 and these
 people hold  the doctrine of the       
government of the ,world through all its
 parts3 and  it may be termed a catholic

 opinion1 as it were4 ,wherefore it is  
possible to see that ,aristotle was the 
,indicator and the ,leader of the       
people to this mark4 ,and this is what  
,i wished to prove4    ,wherefore1      
collecting all together1 the principal  
intention is  manifest1 that is to say1 
that the authority of him whom we       
understand  to be the supreme           
,philosopher is full of complete vigour1
 and in no  way repugnant to ,imperial  
,authority4 ,but the ,imperial without  
the  ,philosopher is dangerous2 and this
 without that is weak1 not of  itself1  
but through the disorder of the people3 
but when one is united  with the other  
they are together most useful and full  
of all vigour2  and therefore it is     
written in that ,book of ,wisdom3 ,love 
the ,light of  ,wisdom1 all you who are 
before the people1 that is to say1 unite
  ,philosophic ,authority with the      
,imperial1 in order to rule well and    
perfectly4 ,o1 you miserable ones1 who  
rule at the present time6 and ,o1  most 

miserable ones1 you who are ruled6 ,for 
no ,philosophic ,authority  is united   
with your governments1 neither through  
suitable study nor by  counsel2 so that 
to all it is possible to repeat those   
words from  ,ecclesiastes3 ,woe to thee1
 ,o land1 when thy ,king is a child1 and
 thy  ,princes eat in the morning2 and  
to no land is it possible to say that   
which follows3 ,blessed art thou1 ,o    
land1 when thy ,king is the son of      
nobles1 and thy ,princes eat in due     
season1 for strength and not for        
drunkenness4    ,ye enemies of ,god1    
look to your flanks1 ye who have seized 
the  sceptres of the kingdoms of ,italy4
 ,and ,i say to you1 ,charles1 and to   
you1 ,frederick1 ,kings1 and to you1 ye 
other ,princes and ,tyrants1 see  who   
sits by the side of you in council1 and 
count how many times a day  this aim of 
human life is indicated to you by your  
councillors4 ,better  would it be for   
you1 like swallows1 to fly low down     
than1 like kites1  to make lofty circles

 over carrion4          ,,chapter ,,vii4
      ,since it is seen how much the    
,imperial ,authority and the            
,philosophic  are to be revered1 which  
must support the opinions propounded1 it
 is  now for us to return into the      
straight path to the intended goal4 ,i  
say1 then1 that this last opinion of the
 ,common ,people has continued  so long 
that without other cause1 without       
inquiry into any reason1  every man is  
termed ,noble who may be the son or     
nephew of any brave  man1 although he   
himself is nothing4 ,and this is what   
the ,song says3        ,and so long     
among us        ,this falsehood has had 
sway1      ,that men call him a         
,nobleman1        ,though worthless1 who
 can say1        ,i nephew am1 or son1  
,of one worth such a sum4    ,wherefore 
it is to be observed that it is most    
dangerous negligence to  allow this evil
 opinion to take root2 for even as weeds
 multiply in  the uncultivated field1   
and surmount and cover the ear of the   

corn1 so  that1 looking at it from a    
distance1 the wheat appears not1 and    
finally the corn is lost2 so the evil   
opinion in the mind1 neither  chastised 
nor corrected1 increases and multiplies1
 so that the ear of  ,reason1 that is1  
the true opinion1 is concealed and      
buried as it were1  and so it is lost4  
,o1 how great is my undertaking in this 
,song1 for ,i  wish now to weed the     
field so full of wild and woody plants  
as is this  field of the common opinion 
so long bereft of tillage6 ,certainly ,i
 do  not intend to cleanse all1 but only
 those parts where the ears of  ,reason 
are not entirely overcome2 that is1 ,i  
intend to lift up again  those in whom  
some little light of ,reason still lives
 through the  goodness of their nature2 
the others need only as much care as the
  brute beasts3 wherefore it seems to me
 that it would not be a less  miracle to
 lead back to ,reason him in whom it is 
entirely extinct than  to bring back to 
,life him who has been four days in the 

grave4    ,then the evil quality of this
 popular opinion is narrated suddenly1  
as  if it were a horrible thing2 it     
strikes at that1 springing forth from   
the order of the confutation1 saying1   
,but he who sees the ,truth will  know  
,how vile he has become1 in order to    
make people understand its  intolerable 
wickedness1 saying1 that those men lie  
especially1 for not  only is the man    
vile1 that is1 not ,noble1 who1 although
 descended from  good people1 is himself
 wicked1 but also he is most vile2 and  
,i quote  the example of the right path 
being indicated1 where1 to prove this1  
it is fit for me to propound a question1
 and to reply to that question  in this 
way4    ,there is a plain with certain  
paths1 a field with hedges1 with        
ditches1 with rocks1 with tanglewood1   
with all kinds of obstacles2  with the  
exception of its two straight paths4    
,and it has snowed so  much that the    
snow covers everything1 and presents one
 smooth  appearance on every side1 so   

that no trace of any path is to be seen4
  ,here comes a man from one part of the
 country1 and he wishes to go to  a     
house which is on the other side2 and by
 his industry1 that is1  through prudent
 foresight and through the goodness of  
genius1 guided  solely by himself1 he   
goes through the right path whither he  
meant to  go1 leaving the prints of his 
footsteps behind him4 ,another comes    
after this man1 and he wishes to go to  
that mansion1 and to him it is  only    
needful to follow the footprints left   
there2 but through his own  fault this  
man strays from the path1 which the     
first man without a  guide has known how
 to keep2 this man1 though it is pointed
 out to  him1 loses his way through the 
brambles and the rocks1 and he goes not 
to the place whither he is bound4       
,which of these men ought to be termed  
excellent1 brave1 or worthy8 ,i  reply3 
,he who went first4 ,how would you      
designate that other man8 ,i  reply3 ,as
 most vile4 ,why is he not called       

unworthy or cowardly1 that  is to say1  
vile8 ,i reply3 ,because unworthy1 that 
is1 vile1 he should  be called who1     
having no guide1 might have failed to   
walk  straightforward2 but since this   
man had a guide1 his error and his      
fault can rise higher2 and therefore he 
is to be called1 not vile1 but  most    
vile4 ,and likewise he who1 by his      
father or by some elder of his  race is 
ennobled1 and does not continue in a    
noble course1 not only is  he vile1 but 
he is most vile1 and deserving of as    
much contempt and  infamy as any other  
villain1 if not of more4 ,and because a 
man may  preserve himself from this vile
 baseness1 ,solomon lays this command on
  him who has had a brave and excellent 
ancestor1 in the twenty-second  chapter 
of ,proverbs3 ,remove not the ancient   
landmark1 which thy  fathers have set1  
,and previously he says1 in the fourth  
chapter of  the said book3 ,the path of 
the ,just1 that is1 of the worthy men1  
is  as the shining light1 that shineth  

more and more unto the perfect day2  the
 way of the wicked is as darkness1 and  
they know not at what they  stumble4    
,finally1 when it says1 ,and though he  
walks upon the earth ,is counted  with  
the dead1 to his greater disgrace ,i say
 that this most  worthless man is dead1 
seeming still alive4 ,where it is to be 
known  that the wicked man may be truly 
said to be dead1 and especially he  who 
goes astray from the path trodden by his
 good ancestor4 ,and this  it is        
possible to prove thus3 as ,aristotle   
says in the second book ,on  the ,soul1 
to live is to be with the living2 and   
since there are many  ways of living--as
 in the plants to vegetate2 in the      
animals to  vegetate and to feel and to 
move2 in men to vegetate1 to feel1 to   
move1 and to reason1 or rather to       
understand2 and since things ought  to  
be denominated by the noblest part1 it  
is evident that in animals  to live is  
to feel--in the brute animals1 ,i say2  
in man1 to live is to  use reason4      

,wherefore1 if to live is the life or   
existence of man1 and  if thus to depart
 from the use of ,reason1 which is his  
life1 is to  depart from life or        
existence1 even thus is that man dead4  
,and does he not depart from the use of 
,reason who does not reason or  think   
concerning the aim of his life8 ,and    
does he not depart from the  use of     
,reason who does not reason or think    
concerning the path which  he ought to  
take8 ,certainly he does so depart2 and 
this is evident  especially in him who  
has the footprints before him1 and looks
 not at  them2 and therefore ,solomon   
says in the fifth chapter of ,proverbs3 
,he  shall die without instruction2 and 
in the greatness of his folly he  shall 
go astray1 that is to say1 he is dead   
who becomes a disciple1  and who does   
not follow his master2 and such an one  
is most vile4    ,and of him it would be
 possible for some one to say3 ,how is  
he dead  and yet he walks8 ,i reply1    
that as a man he is dead1 but as a beast

 he  has remained alive2 for as the     
,philosopher says in the second book ,on
  the ,soul1 the powers of the ,soul    
stand upon itself1 as the figure of  the
 quadrangle stands upon the triangle1   
and the pentagon stands upon  the       
quadrangle2 so the sensitive stands upon
 the vegetative1 and the  intellectual  
stands upon the sensitive4 ,wherefore1  
as1 by removing the  last side of the   
pentagon1 the quadrangle remains1 so by 
removing the  last power of the ,soul1  
that is1 ,reason1 the man no longer     
remains1  but a thing with a sensitive  
soul only1 that is1 the brute animal4   
,and this is the meaning or intention of
 the second part of the devised  ,song1 
in which are placed the opinions of     
others4          ,,chapter ,,viii4      
,the most beautiful branch which grows  
up from the root of ,reason is          
,discretion4 ,for as ,st4 ,thomas says  
thereupon in the prologue to the  book  
of ,ethics1 to know the order of one    
thing to another is the  proper act of  

,reason2 and this is ,discretion4 ,one  
of the most  beautiful and sweetest     
fruits of this branch is the reverence  
which  the lesser owes to the greater4  
,wherefore ,tullius1 in the first       
chapter of the ,offices1 when speaking  
of the beauty which shines forth  in    
,uprightness1 says that reverence is    
part of that beauty2 and thus  as this  
reverence is the beauty of ,uprightness1
 so its opposite is  baseness and want  
of uprightness2 which opposite quality  
it is  possible to term irreverence1 or 
rather as impudent boldness1 in our     
,vulgar ,tongue4    ,and therefore this 
,tullius in the same place says3 ,to    
treat with  contemptuous indifference   
that which others think of one1 not only
 is  the act of an arrogant1 but also of
 a dissolute person1 which means  no    
other except that arrogance and         
dissolute conduct show want of          
self-knowledge1 which is the beginning  
of the capacity for all  reverence4     
,wherefore ,i1 desiring 7and bearing    

meanwhile all reverence  both to the    
,prince and to the ,philosopher7 to     
remove the infirmity  from the minds of 
some men1 in order afterwards to build  
up thereupon  the light of truth1 before
 ,i proceed to confute the opinions     
propounded1 will show how1 whilst       
confuting those opinions1 ,i argue  with
 irreverence neither against the        
,imperial ,majesty nor against the      
,philosopher4 ,for if in any part of    
this entire book ,i should appear       
irreverent1 it would not be so bad as in
 this treatise2 in which1  whilst       
treating of ,nobility1 ,i ought to      
appear ,noble1 and not vile4    ,and    
firstly ,i will prove that ,i do not    
presume against the authority  of the   
,philosopher2 then ,i will prove that ,i
 do not presume against  ,imperial      
,majesty4    ,i say1 then1 that when the
 ,philosopher says1 that which appears  
to  the most is impossible to be        
entirely false1 ,i do not mean to speak 
of the external appearance1 that is1 the

 sensual1 but of that which  appears    
within1 the rational2 since the sensual 
appearance1 according  to most people1  
is many times most false1 especially in 
the common  things appreciable by the   
senses1 wherein the sense is often      
deceived4  ,thus we know that to most   
people the ,sun appears of the width of 
a  foot in diameter2 and this is most   
false1 for1 according to the  inquiry   
and the discovery which human reason has
 made with its skill1  the diameter of  
the body of the ,sun is five times as   
much as that of  the ,earth and also    
one-half time more1 since the ,earth in 
its diameter  is six thousand five      
hundred miles1 the diameter of the ,sun1
 which to  the sense of sight presents  
the appearance of the width of one foot1
  is thirty-five thousand seven hundred 
and fifty miles4 ,wherefore it is       
evident that ,aristotle did not         
understand or judge it by the           
appearance which it presents to the     
sense of sight4 ,and therefore1 if  ,i  

intend only to oppose false trust in    
appearance according to the  senses1    
that is not done against the intention  
of the ,philosopher1 and  therefore ,i  
do not offend against the reverence     
which is due to him4    ,and that ,i    
intend to confute the appearance        
according to the sense is  manifest2 for
 those people who judge thus1 judge only
 by what they  feel or think of those   
things which fortune can give and take  
away4  ,for1 because they see great     
alliances made and high marriages to    
take  place1 and the wonderful palaces1 
the large possessions1 great  lordships1
 they believe that all those things are 
the causes of  ,nobility--nay1 they     
believe them to be ,nobility itself4    
,for if they  could judge with any      
appearance of reason1 they would say the
  contrary1 that is1 that ,nobility is  
the cause of these things1 as will  be  
seen in the sequel of this treatise4    
,and even as it may be seen  that ,i    
speak not against the reverence due to  

the ,philosopher whilst  confuting this 
error1 so ,i speak not against the      
reverence due to the  ,empire2 and the  
reason ,i intend to show4 ,but when he  
reasons or argues  before the adversary1
 the ,rhetorician ought to use much     
caution in his  speech1 in order that   
the adversary may not derive thence     
material  wherewith to disturb the      
,truth4 ,i1 who speak in this treatise  
in the  presence of so many adversaries1
 cannot speak briefly2 wherefore1 if  my
 digressions should be long1 let no one 
marvel4    ,i say1 then1 that1 in order 
to prove that ,i am not irreverent to   
the  ,majesty of the ,empire1 it is     
requisite1 in the first place1 to see   
what reverence is4 ,i say that reverence
 is no other than a confession  of due  
submission by an evident sign2 and1     
having seen this1 it  remains to        
distinguish between them4 ,irreverent   
expresses privation1  not reverent      
expresses negation2 and1 therefore1     
irreverence is to  disavow the due      

submission by a manifest sign4 ,the want
 of reverence  is to refuse submission  
as not due4 ,a man can deny or refuse a 
thing  in a double sense4 ,in one way1  
the man can deny offending against the  
,truth when he abstains from the due    
confession1 and this properly is  to    
disavow4 ,in another way1 the man can   
deny offending against the  ,truth when 
he does not confess that which is not1  
and this is proper  negation2 even as   
for the man to deny that he is entirely 
mortal is to  deny properly speaking4   
,wherefore1 if ,i deny or refuse        
reverence due  to the ,imperial         
,authority1 ,i am not irreverent1 but ,i
 am not reverent2  which is not against 
reverence1 forasmuch as it offends not  
that  ,imperial ,authority2 even as not 
to live does not offend ,life1 but      
,death1 which is privation of that      
,life1 offends2 wherefore1 to die is    
one thing and not to live is another    
thing1 for not to live is in the        
stones4 ,and since ,death expresses     

privation1 which cannot be except in    
decease of the subject1 and the stones  
are not the subject of ,life1  they     
should not be called dead1 but not      
living4 ,in like manner1 ,i1 who  in    
this case ought not to have reverence to
 the ,imperial ,authority1 am  not      
irreverent if ,i deny or refuse it1 but 
,i am not reverent1 which is  neither   
boldness1 nor presumption1 nor a thing  
to be blamed4 ,but it  would be         
presumption to be reverent1 if it could 
be called reverence1  since it would    
fall into greater and more true         
irreverence1 that is1  into irreverence 
of ,nature and of ,truth1 as will be    
seen in the  sequel4 ,against this error
 that ,master of ,philosophers1         
,aristotle1  guards1 in the beginning of
 the book of ,ethics1 when he says3 ,if 
the  friends are two1 and one is the    
,truth1 their one mind is the ,truth's4 
,if ,i have said that ,i am not         
reverent1 that is1 to deny reverence1 or
  by a manifest sign to deny or refuse a

 submission not due4 ,it is to be  seen 
how this is to deny and not to disavow1 
that is to say1 it  remains to be seen  
how1 in this case1 ,i am not rightfully 
subject to  the ,imperial ,majesty4 ,it 
must be a long argument wherewith ,i    
intend to  prove this in the chapter    
next following4          ,,chapter ,,ix4
      ,to see how in this case1 that is1
 in approving or in not approving the   
opinion of the ,emperor1 ,i am not held 
in subjection to him1 it is  necessary  
to recall to mind that which has been   
argued previously  concerning the       
,imperial ,office1 in the fourth chapter
 of this  treatise1 namely1 that to     
promote the perfection of human ,life1  
,imperial ,authority was designed2 and  
that it is the director and ruler  of   
all our operations1 and justly so1 for  
however far our operations  extend      
themselves1 so far the ,imperial        
,majesty has jurisdiction1 and  beyond  
those limits it does not reach4 ,but as 
each ,art and ,office of  mankind is    

restricted by the ,imperial ,office     
within certain limits1 so  this         
,imperial ,office is confined by ,god   
within certain bounds4 ,and it  is not  
to be wondered at1 for the ,office and  
the ,arts of ,nature in all  her        
operations we see to be limited4 ,for if
 we wish to take ,universal  ,nature1 it
 has jurisdiction as far as the whole   
,world1 ,i say as far as  ,heaven and   
,earth extend2 and this within a certain
 limit1 as is proved  by the third      
chapter of the book on ,physics1 and by 
the first chapter1  of ,heaven and the  
,world4 ,then the jurisdiction of       
,universal ,nature is  limited within a 
certain boundary1 and consequently the  
individual2 of  which also ,he is the   
,limiter who is limited by nothing1 that
 is1 the  ,first ,goodness1 that is1    
,god1 who alone with infinite capacity  
comprehends the ,infinite4 ,and1 that we
 may see the limits of our  operations1 
it is to be known that those alone are  
our operations  which are subject to    

,reason and to ,will2 for1 if in us     
there is the  digestive operation1 that 
is not human1 but natural4 ,and it is to
 be  known that our ,reason is ordained 
to four operations1 separately to be    
considered2 for those are operations    
which ,reason only considers and  does  
not produce1 neither can produce1 any   
one of them1 such as are  the ,natural  
facts and the ,supernatural and the     
,mathematics4 ,and those  are operations
 which it considers and does in its own 
proper act which  are called rational1  
such as are the arts of speech4 ,and    
those are  operations which it considers
 and does in material beyond itself1    
such  as are the ,mechanical ,arts4 ,and
 all these operations1 although the     
considering them is subject to our will1
 they in their essential form  are not  
subject to our will2 for although we    
might will that heavy  things should    
mount upwards naturally1 they would not 
be able to  ascend2 and although we     
might will that the syllogism with false

  premisses should conclude with        
demonstration of the ,truth1 it could   
not so conclude2 and although we might  
will that the house should  stand as    
firmly when leaning forward as when     
upright1 it could not be2  since of     
those operations we are not properly the
 factors1 we are  their discoverers2    
,another ordained them and made them1   
the great  ,maker1 who alone can ,will  
and ,do ,all--,god4    ,there also are  
operations which our ,reason considers  
and which lie in  the act of the ,will1 
such as to offend and to rejoice2 such  
as to  stand firm in the battle and to  
fly from it2 such as to be chaste and   
to be lewd2 these are entirely subject  
to our will1 and therefore we  are      
called from them good and evil1 because 
such acts are entirely our  own2 for so 
far as our will can obtain power1 so far
 do our operations  extend4 ,and since  
in all these voluntary operations there 
is some  equity to preserve and some    
iniquity to shun--which equity may be   

lost  through two causes1 either through
 not knowing what it is1 or through  not
 wishing to follow it--the written      
,reason1 the ,law1 was invented1  both  
to point it out to us and to command its
 observance4 ,wherefore  ,augustine     
says3 ,if men could know this1 that is1 
,equity1 and knowing  it would obey it1 
the written ,reason1 the ,law1 would not
 be needful4  ,and therefore it is      
written in the beginning of the old     
,digests or  ,books of the ,civil ,law3 
,the written ,reason is the ,art of     
,goodness and  of ,equity4 ,to write    
this1 to show forth and to enforce this1
 is the  business of that ,official     
,post of which one speaks1 that of the  
,emperor1 to whom1 as has been said1 in 
so far as our own operations  extend1 we
 are subject1 and no farther4 ,for this 
reason in each ,art  and in each trade  
the artificers and the scholars are and 
ought to be  subject to the chief and to
 the master of their trades and ,art3   
beyond  their callings the subjection   

ceases1 because the superiority ceases4 
,so that it is possible to speak of the 
,emperor in this manner1 if we  will    
represent his office figuratively1 and  
say that he may be the  rider of the    
,human ,will1 of which horse how it goes
 without its rider  through the field is
 evident enough1 and especially in      
miserable  ,italy1 left without any     
means for its right government4 ,and it 
is to  be considered that in proportion 
as a thing is more fit for the          
,master's art1 so much the greater is   
the subjection2 for the cause  being    
multiplied1 so is the effect multiplied4
 ,wherefore it is to be  known that     
there are things which are such pure or 
simple ,arts that  ,nature is their     
instrument2 even as rowing with an oar1 
where the ,art  makes its instrument by 
impulsion1 which is a natural movement2 
as in  the threshing of the corn1 where 
the ,art makes its instrument1 which  is
 a natural quality4 ,and in this        
especially a man ought to be subject  to

 the chief and master of the ,art4 ,and 
there are things in which ,art  is the  
instrument of ,nature1 and these are    
lesser ,arts2 and in these  the         
artificers are less subject to their    
chief1 as in giving the seed  to the    
,earth1 where one must await the will of
 ,nature2 as to sail out  of the harbour
 or port1 where one must await the      
natural disposition  of the weather2 and
 therefore we often see in these things 
contention  amongst the artificers1 and 
the greater to ask counsel of the       
lesser4  ,and there are other things    
which are not ,arts1 but appear to have 
some  relationship with them2 and       
therefore men are often deceived2 and in
  these the scholars are not subject to 
a master1 neither are they bound  to    
believe in him so far as regards the    
,art4 ,thus1 to fish seems to  have some
 relationship with navigation2 and to   
know the virtue of the  herb or grass   
seems to have some relationship with    
agriculture2 for  these ,arts have no   

general rule1 since fishing may be below
 the ,art of  hunting1 and beneath its  
command2 to know the virtue of the herb 
may  be below the science of medicine1  
or rather below its most noble          
teaching4    ,those things which have   
been argued concerning the other ,arts  
in like  manner may be seen in the      
,imperial ,art1 for there are rules in  
those  ,arts which are pure or simple   
,arts1 as are the laws of marriage1 of  
servants1 of armies1 of successors in   
offices of dignity2 and in all  these we
 may be entirely subject to the ,emperor
 without doubt and  without any         
suspicion whatever4 ,there are other    
laws which are the  followers of        
,nature1 such as to constitute a man of 
sufficient age to  fill some office in  
the administration2 and to such a law as
 this we  are entirely subject2 there   
are many others which appear to have    
some  relationship with the ,imperial   
,art2 and here he was and is deceived   
who believes that the ,imperial judgment

 in this part may be authentic1  as of  
youth1 whose nature is laid down by no  
,imperial judgment1 as it  were1 of the 
,emperor4 ,render1 therefore1 unto ,god 
that which is ,god's4  ,wherefore it is 
not to be believed1 nor to be allowed1  
because it was  said by ,nero the       
,emperor that youth is beauty and       
strength of body2  but credit would be  
given to the philosopher who should say 
that youth  is the crown or summit of   
the natural life4 ,and therefore it is  
evident that to define ,nobility is not 
the function of the ,art  ,imperial2 and
 if it is not in the nature of the ,art1
 when we are  treating of ,nobility we  
are not subject to it2 and if we are not
  subject1 we are not bound to yield    
reverence therein2 and this is the      
conclusion we have sought4    ,now1     
therefore1 with all freedom1 with all   
liberty of mind1 it remains  to strike  
to the heart the vicious opinions1      
thereby causing them to  fall to earth1 
in order that the ,truth by means of    

this my victory may  hold the field in  
the mind of him for whom it is good that
 this ,light  should shine clear4       
,,chapter ,x4      ,since the opinions  
of others concerning ,nobility have now 
been brought  forward1 and since it has 
been shown that it is lawful for me to  
confute those opinions1 ,i shall now    
proceed to discourse concerning  that   
part of the ,song which confutes those  
opinions1 beginning1 as has  been said  
above3 ,whoever shall define ,the man a 
living tree4 ,and  therefore it is to be
 known that in the opinion of the       
,emperor1  although it states it        
defectively in one part1 that is1 where 
he spoke  of generous ways1 he alluded  
to the manners of the ,nobility2 and    
therefore the ,song does not intend to  
reprove that part3 the other  part1     
which is entirely opposed to the nature 
of ,nobility1 it does  intend to        
confute1 which cites two things when it 
says3 ,descent of  wealth1 ,the wealth  
has long been great1 that is1 time and  

riches1  which are entirely apart from  
,nobility1 as has been said1 and as will
  be shown farther on2 and1 therefore1  
in this confutation two divisions  are  
made3 in the first we deny the ,nobility
 of riches1 then confute  the idea that 
time can cause ,nobility4 ,the second   
part begins3 ,they  will not have the   
vile ,turn noble4    ,it is to be known 
that1 riches being reproved1 not only is
 the opinion  of the ,emperor reproved  
in that part which alludes to the       
riches1 but  also entirely that opinion 
of the common people1 which was founded 
solely upon riches4 ,the first part is  
divided into two3 in the first  it says 
in a general way that the ,emperor was  
erroneous in his  definition of         
,nobility2 secondly1 it shows the reason
 why or how that  is2 and this begins   
that second part1 ,for riches make no   
,nobleman4    ,i say1 then1 ,whoever    
shall define ,the man a living tree1    
that1  firstly1 he will speak untruth1  
inasmuch as he says tree1 and less  than

 truth1 inasmuch as he says living1 and 
does not say rational1  which is the    
difference whereby ,man is distinguished
 from the ,beast4  ,then ,i say that in 
this way he was erroneous in his        
definition1 he who  held ,imperial      
,office1 not saying ,emperor1 but one   
raised to ,empire1  to indicate1 as has 
been said above1 that this question is  
beyond the  bounds of the ,imperial     
,office4 ,in like manner ,i say that he 
errs who  places a false subject under  
,nobility1 that is1 descent of wealth1  
and then proceeds to a defective form1  
or rather difference1 that is1  generous
 ways1 which do not contain any         
essential part of ,nobility1  but only a
 small part1 as will appear below4 ,and 
it is not to be  omitted1 although the  
text may be silent1 that my ,lord the   
,emperor in  this part did not err in   
the parts of the definition1 but only in
 the  mode of the definition1 although1 
according to what fame reports of  him1 
he was a logician and a great scholar2  

that is to say1 the  definition of      
,nobility can be made more sufficiently 
by the effects  than by the principles  
or premisses1 since it appears to have  
the  place of a first principle or      
premiss1 which it is not possible to    
notify by first things1 but by          
subsequent things4 ,then1 when ,i say1  
,for riches make not worth1 ,i show how 
they cannot possibly be the  cause of   
,nobility1 because they are vile4 ,and  
,i prove that they have  not the power  
to take it away1 because they are       
disjoined so much from  ,nobility4 ,and 
,i prove these to be vile by an especial
 and most evident  defect2 and ,i do    
this when ,i say1 ,how vile and         
incomplete4 ,finally1  ,i conclude1 by  
virtue of that which is said above3     
,and hence the upright mind1        ,to 
its own purpose true1      ,stands firm 
although the flood of wealth            
,sweep onward out of view2    which     
proves that which is said above1 that   
those riches are disunited  from        

,nobility by not following the effect of
 union with it4 ,where it  is to be     
known that1 as the ,philosopher         
expresses it1 all the things  which make
 anything must first exist perfectly    
within the being of the  thing out of   
which that other thing is made4         
,wherefore he says in the  seventh      
chapter of the ,metaphysics3 ,when one  
thing is generated from  another1 it is 
generated of that thing by being in that
 ,being4    ,again1 it is to be known   
that each thing which becomes corrupt is
 thus  corrupted by some change or      
alteration1 and each thing which is     
changed or altered must be conjoined    
with the cause of the change1  even as  
the ,philosopher expresses it in the    
seventh chapter of the  book on ,physics
 and in the first chapter on            
,generation4 ,these things  being       
propounded1 ,i proceed thus1 and ,i say 
that riches1 as another  man believed1  
cannot possibly bestow ,nobility1 and to
 prove how great  is the difference     

between them ,i say that they are unable
 to take  ,nobility away from him who   
possesses it4 ,to bestow it they have   
not  the power1 since by nature they are
 vile1 and because of their  vileness   
they are opposed to ,nobility4 ,and here
 by vileness one means  baseness1       
through degeneracy1 which is directly   
opposite to ,nobility3  for the one     
opposite thing cannot be the maker of   
the other1 neither  is it possible to   
be1 for the reason given above1 which is
 briefly  added to the text1 saying1 ,no
 painter gives a form ,that is not of   
his  knowing4 ,wherefore no painter     
would be able to depict any figure or   
form if he could not first design what  
such figure or form ought to  be4       
,again1 riches cannot take it away1     
because they are so far from  ,nobility2
 and1 for the reason previously         
narrated1 that which alters  or corrupts
 anything must be conjoined with that   
thing1 and therefore  it is subjoined3  
,no tower leans above a stream ,that far

 away is  flowing1 which means nothing  
more than to accord with that which has 
been previously said1 that riches cannot
 take ,nobility away1 saying  that      
,nobility is1 as it were1 an upright    
tower and riches a river  flowing       
swiftly in the distance4                
,,chapter ,,xi4      ,it now remains    
only to prove how vile riches are1 and  
how disjoined  and far apart they are   
from ,nobility2 and this is proved in   
two little  parts of the text1 to which 
at present it is requisite to pay       
attention1 and then1 those being        
explained1 what ,i have said will be    
evident1 namely1 that riches are vile   
and far apart from ,nobility1 and       
hereby the reasons stated above against 
riches will be perfectly  proved4    ,i 
say then1 ,how vile and incomplete      
,wealth is1 and to make evident  what ,i
 intend to say it is to be known that   
the vileness or baseness  of each thing 
is derived from the imperfection of that
 thing1 and  ,nobility from its         

perfection3 wherefore in proportion as a
 thing is  perfect1 it is noble in its  
nature2 in proportion as it is          
imperfect1  it is vile4 ,and therefore1 
if riches are imperfect1 it is evident  
that  they are vile or base4 ,and that  
they are imperfect1 the text briefly    
proves when it says3 ,however great the 
heap may be1 ,it brings no  peace1 but  
care2 in which it is evident1 not only  
that they are  imperfect1 but most      
imperfect1 and therefore they are most  
vile2 and  ,lucan bears witness to this 
when he says1 speaking of those same    
riches3 ,without strife or contention or
 opposition1 the ,laws would  perish1   
and you1 ,riches1 the basest part of    
things1 you move or are  the cause of   
,battles4 ,it is possible briefly to see
 their  imperfection in three things    
quite clearly3 firstly1 in the          
indiscriminate manner in which they fall
 to a person's lot2 secondly1  in their 
dangerous increase2 thirdly1 in their   
hurtful possession4    ,and1 firstly1   

that which ,i demonstrate concerning    
this is to clear up  a doubt which seems
 to arise1 for1 since gold1 pearls1 and 
lands1 may  have in their essential     
being perfect form and act1 it does not 
seem  true to say that they are         
imperfect4 ,and therefore one must      
distinguish that inasmuch as by         
themselves1 of them it is considered1   
they are perfect things1 and they are   
not riches1 but gold and pearls2  but   
inasmuch as they are appointed to the   
possession of man they are  riches1 and 
in this way they are full of            
imperfection2 which is not an           
unbecoming or impossible thing1         
considered from different points of     
view1 to be perfect and imperfect4 ,i   
say that their imperfection  firstly may
 be observed in the indiscretion1 or    
unwisdom1 or folly1 of  their arrival1  
in which no distributive ,justice shines
 forth1 but  complete iniquity almost   
always2 which iniquity is the proper    
effect  of imperfection4 ,for if the    

methods or ways by which they come are  
considered1 all may be gathered together
 in three methods1 or kinds of  ways3   
for1 either they come by simple chance1 
as when without  intention or hope they 
come upon some discovery not thought of2
 or  they come by fortune which is aided
 by law or right1 as by will1 or        
testament1 or succession2 or they come  
by fortune1 the helper of the  ,law1 as 
by lawful or unlawful provision2 lawful1
 ,i say1 when by art1  or skill1 or by  
trade1 or deserved kindness2 unlawful1  
,i say1 when  either by theft or rapine4
 ,and in each one of these three ways1  
one  sees that inequitable character of 
which ,i speak1 for more often to  the  
wicked than to the good the hidden      
treasures which are discovered  present 
themselves2 and this is so evident1 that
 it has no need of  proof4 ,i saw the   
place in the side of a hill1 or         
mountain1 in ,tuscany1  which is called 
,falterona1 where the most vile peasant 
of all the  country1 whilst digging1    

found more than a bushel of the finest  
,santlena silver1 which had awaited him 
perhaps for more than a  thousand years4
 ,and in order to see this iniquity1    
,aristotle said that  in proportion as  
the ,man is subject to the ,intellect1  
so much the less  is he the slave of    
,fortune4 ,and ,i say that oftener to   
the wicked than  to the good befall     
legal inheritance and property by       
succession2 and  concerning this ,i do  
not wish to bring forward any proof1 but
 let each  one turn his eyes round his  
own immediate neighbourhood1 and he will
  see that concerning which ,i am silent
 that ,i may not offend or bring  shame 
to some one4 ,would to ,god that might  
be which was demanded by  the ,man of   
,provence1 namely1 that the man who is  
not the heir of  goodness should lose   
the inheritance of wealth4 ,and ,i say  
that many  times to the wicked more than
 to the good comes rich provision1 for  
the unlawful never comes to the good1   
because they refuse it2 and what  good  

man ever would endeavour to enrich      
himself by force or fraud8  ,that would 
be impossible1 for by the mere choice of
 the enterprise he  would no more be    
good4 ,and the lawful gains of wealth   
but rarely fall  to the lot of the good1
 because1 since much anxiety or anxious 
care is  required therein1 and the      
solicitude of the good is directed to   
greater things1 the good man is rarely  
solicitous enough to seek them4         
,wherefore it is evident that in each   
way these riches fall unjustly or       
inequitably2 and therefore our ,lord    
called them wicked or unrighteous  when 
,he said1 ,make to yourselves friends of
 the ,mammon of  unrighteousness1       
inviting and encouraging men to be      
liberal with good  gifts1 which are the 
begetters of friends4 ,and what a       
beautiful  exchange he makes who gives  
freely of these most imperfect things in
  order to have and to acquire perfect  
things1 such as are the hearts of  good 
and worthy men6 ,this exchange it is    

possible to make every day4  ,certainly 
this is a new commerce1 different from  
the others1 which1  thinking to win one 
man by generosity1 has won thereby      
thousands and  thousands4 ,who lives not
 again in the heart of ,alexander       
because of  his royal beneficence8 ,who 
lives not again in the good ,king of    
,castile1 or ,saladin1 or the good      
,marquis of ,monferrat1 or the good     
,count of ,toulouse1 or ,beltramo dal   
,bornio1 or ,galasso da ,montefeltro1   
when mention is made of their noble acts
 of courtesy and liberality8  ,certainly
 not only those who would do the same   
willingly1 had they the  power1 but     
those even who would die before they    
would do it1 bear love  to the memory of
 these good men4          ,,chapter     
,,xii4      ,as has been said1 it is    
possible to see the imperfection of     
riches not  only in their indiscriminate
 advent1 but also in their dangerous    
increase2 and that in this we may       
perceive their defect more clearly1  the

 text makes mention of it1 saying of    
those riches1 ,however great  the heap  
may be ,it brings no peace1 but care2   
they create more thirst  and render     
increase more defective and             
insufficient4 ,and here it is  requisite
 to know that defective things may fail 
in such a way that on  the surface they 
appear complete1 but1 under pretext of  
perfection1  the shortcoming is         
concealed4 ,but they may have those     
defects so  entirely revealed that the  
imperfection is seen openly on the      
surface4  ,and those things which do not
 reveal their defects in the first place
  are the most dangerous1 since very    
often it is not possible to be on  guard
 against them2 even as we see in the    
traitor who1 before our  face1 shows    
himself friendly1 so that he causes us  
to have faith in  him1 and under pretext
 of friendship1 hides the defect of his 
hostility4 ,and in this way riches1 in  
their increase1 are dangerously         
imperfect1 for1 submitting to our eyes  

this that they promise1 they  bring just
 the contrary4 ,the treacherous gains   
always promise that1 if  collected up to
 a certain amount1 they will make the   
collector full of  every satisfaction2  
and with this promise they lead the     
,human ,will  into the vice of ,avarice4
 ,and1 for this reason1 ,boethius calls 
them1  in his book of ,consolations1    
dangerous1 saying1 ,oh1 alas6 who was   
that first man who dug up the precious  
stones that wished to hide  themselves1 
and who dug out the loads of gold once  
covered by the  hills1 dangerous        
treasures8    ,the treacherous ones     
promise1 if we will but look1 to remove 
every  want1 to quench all thirst1 to   
bring satisfaction and sufficiency2 and 
this they do to every man in the        
beginning1 confirming promise to a      
certain point in their increase1 and    
then1 as soon as their pile  rises1 in  
place of contentment and refreshment    
they bring on an  intolerable           
fever-thirst2 and beyond sufficiency1   

they extend their  limit1 create a      
desire to amass more1 and1 with this1   
fear and anxiety  far in excess of the  
new gain4    ,then1 truly1 they bring no
 peace1 but more care1 more trouble1    
than a  man had in the first place when 
he was without them4 ,and therefore     
,tullius says1 in that book on          
,paradoxes1 when execrating riches3 ,i  
at  no time firmly believed the money of
 those men1 or magnificent  mansions1 or
 riches1 or lordships1 or voluptuous    
joys1 with which  especially they are   
shackled1 to be amongst things good or  
desirable1  since ,i saw certain men in 
the abundance of them especially desire 
those wherein they abounded2 because at 
no time is the thirst of  cupidity      
quenched2 not only are they tormented by
 the desire for the  increase of those  
things which they possess1 but also they
 have  torment in the fear of losing    
them4 ,and all these are the words of   
,tullius1 and even thus they stand in   
that book which has been  mentioned4    

,and1 as a stronger witness to this     
imperfection1 hear ,boethius1  speaking 
in his book of ,consolation3 ,if the    
,goddess of ,riches were to  expand and 
multiply riches till they were as       
numerous as the sands  thrown up by the 
sea when tost by the tempest1 or        
countless as the  stars that shine1     
still ,man would weep4    ,and because  
still further testimony is needful to   
reduce this to a  proof1 note how much  
,solomon and his father ,david exclaim  
against  them1 how much against them is 
,seneca1 especially when writing to     
,lucilius1 how much ,horace1 how much   
,juvenal1 and1 briefly1 how much  every 
writer1 every poet1 and how much ,divine
 ,scripture4 ,all ,truthful  cries aloud
 against these false enticers to sin1   
full of all defect4  ,call to mind also1
 in aid of faith1 what your own eyes    
have seen1 what  is the life of those   
men who follow after riches1 how far    
they live  securely when they have piled
 them up1 what their contentment is1 how

  peacefully they rest4    ,what else   
daily endangers and destroys cities1    
countries1 individual  persons1 so much 
as the fresh heaping up of wealth in the
 possession  of some man8 ,his          
accumulation wakens new desires1 to the 
fulfilment of  which it is not possible 
to attain without injury to some one4   
,and what else does the ,law1 both      
,canonical and ,civil1 intend to        
rectify except cupidity or avarice1     
which grows with its heaps of  riches1  
and which the ,law seeks to resist or   
prevent4 ,truly1 the  ,canonical and the
 ,civil ,law make it sufficiently clear1
 if the first  sections of their written
 word are read4 ,how evident it is1 nay1
 ,i say  it is most evident1 that these 
riches are1 in their increase1 entirely 
imperfect2 when1 being amassed1 naught  
else but imperfection can  possibly     
spring forth from them4 ,and this is    
what the text says4    ,but here arises 
a doubtful question1 which is not to be 
passed over  without being put and      

answered4 ,some calumniator of the      
,truth might be  able to say that if1 by
 increasing desire in their acquisition1
 riches  are imperfect and therefore    
vile1 for this reason science or        
knowledge  is imperfect and vile1 in the
 acquisition of which the desire        
steadily  increases1 wherefore ,seneca  
says1 ,if ,i should have one foot in the
  grave1 ,i should still wish to learn4 
,but it is not true that knowledge is   
vile through imperfection4 ,by          
distinction of the consequences1        
increase of desire is not in  knowledge 
the cause of vileness4 ,that it is      
perfect is evident1 for  the            
,philosopher1 in the sixth book of the  
,ethics1 says that science or  knowledge
 is the perfect reason of certain       
things4 ,to this question  one has to   
reply briefly2 but in the first place it
 is to be seen  whether in the          
acquisition of ,knowledge the desire for
 it is enlarged  in the way suggested by
 the question1 and whether the argument 

be  rational4 ,wherefore ,i say that not
 only in the acquisition of  knowledge  
and riches1 but in each and every       
acquisition1 human desire  expands1     
although in different ways2 and the     
reason is this3 that the  supreme desire
 of each thing bestowed by ,nature in   
the first place is  to return to its    
first source4 ,and since ,god is the    
,first ,cause of our  ,souls1 and the   
,maker of them after ,his ,own ,image1  
as it is written1  ,let us make ,man in 
,our ,image1 after ,our likeness1 the   
,soul  especially desires to return to  
that ,first ,cause4 ,as a pilgrim1 who  
goes along a path where he never        
journeyed before1 may believe every     
house that he sees in the distance to be
 his inn1 and1 not finding it  to be so1
 may direct his belief to the next1 and 
so travel on from  house to house until 
he reach the inn1 even so our ,soul1 as 
soon as it  enters the untrodden path of
 this life1 directs its eyes to its     
supreme good1 the sum of its day's      

travel to good2 and therefore  whatever 
thing it sees which seems to have in    
itself some goodness1 it  thinks to be  
the supreme good4 ,and because its      
knowledge at first is  imperfect1 owing 
to want of experience and want of       
instruction1 good  things that are but  
little appear great to it2 and therefore
 in the  first place it begins to desire
 those4 ,so we see little children      
desire above all things an apple2 and   
then1 growing older1 they desire  a     
little bird2 and then1 being older1     
desire a beautiful garment2 and  then a 
horse1 and then a wife1 and then        
moderate wealth1 and then  greater      
wealth1 and then still more4 ,and this  
happens because in none  of these things
 that is found for which search is made1
 and as we live  on we seek further4    
,wherefore it is possible to see that   
one desirable  thing stands under the   
other in the eyes of our ,soul in a way 
almost  pyramidal1 for the least first  
covers the whole1 and is as it were the 

point of the desirable good1 which is   
,god1 at the basis of all2 so  that the 
farther it proceeds from the point      
towards the basis1 so much  the greater 
do the desirable good things appear2 and
 this is the  reason why1 by            
acquisition1 human desires become       
broader the one after  the other4       
,but1 thus this pathway is lost through 
error1 even as in the roads of  the     
earth2 for as from one city to another  
there is of necessity an  excellent     
direct road1 and often another which    
branches from that1 the  branch road    
goes into another part1 and of many     
others some do not go  all the way1 and 
some go farther round2 so in ,human     
,life there are  different roads1 of    
which one is the truest1 and another the
 most  misleading1 and some are less    
right1 and some less wrong4 ,and as we  
see that the straightest road to the    
city satisfies desire and gives  rest   
after toil1 and that which goes in the  
opposite direction never  satisfies and 

never can give rest1 so it happens in   
our ,life4 ,the man  who follows the    
right path attains his end1 and gains   
his rest4 ,the  man who follows the     
wrong path never attains it1 but with   
much fatigue  of mind and greedy eyes   
looks always before him4    ,wherefore1 
although this argument does not entirely
 reply to the  question asked above1 at 
least it opens the way to the reply1    
which  causes us to see that each desire
 of ours does not proceed in its        
expansion in one way alone4 ,but because
 this chapter is somewhat  prolonged1 we
 will reply in a new chapter to the     
question1 wherein may  be ended the     
whole disputation which it is our       
intention to make  against riches4      
,,chapter ,,xiii4      ,in reply to the 
question1 ,i say that it is not possible
 to affirm  properly that the desire for
 knowledge does increase1 although1 as  
has  been said1 it does expand in a     
certain way4 ,for that which properly   
increases is always one2 the desire for 

knowledge is not always one1  but is    
many2 and one desire fulfilled1 another 
comes2 so that1  properly speaking1 its 
expansion is not its increase1 but it is
  advance of a succession of smaller    
things into great things4 ,for if ,i    
desire to know the principles of natural
 things1 as soon as ,i know  these1 that
 desire is satisfied and there is an end
 of it4 ,if ,i then  desire to know the 
why and the wherefore of each one of    
these  principles1 this is a new desire 
altogether4 ,nor by the advent of that  
new desire am ,i deprived of the        
perfection to which the other might     
lead me4 ,such an expansion as that is  
not the cause of imperfection1  but of  
new perfection4 ,that expansion of      
riches1 however1 is properly  increased 
which is always one1 so that no         
succession is seen therein1  and        
therefore no end and no perfection4     
,and if the adversary would say1 that if
 the desire to know the first           
principles of natural things is one     

thing1 and the desire to know what  they
 are is another1 so is the desire for a 
hundred marks one thing1  and the desire
 for a thousand marks is another1 ,i    
reply that it is not  true2 for the     
hundred is part of the thousand and is  
related to it1 as  part of a line to the
 whole of the line along which one      
proceeds by  one impulse alone2 and     
there is no succession there1 nor       
completion of  motion in any part4 ,but 
to know what the principles of natural  
things  are is not the same as to know  
what each one of them is2 the one is    
not part of the other1 and they are     
related to each other as diverging      
lines along which one does not proceed  
by one impulse1 but the  completed      
movement of the one succeeds the        
completed movement of the  other4 ,and  
thus it appears that1 because of the    
desire for knowledge1  knowledge is not 
to be called imperfect in the same way  
as riches are  to be called imperfect1  
on account of the desire for them1 as   

the  question put it2 for in the desire 
for knowledge the desires terminate     
successively with the attainment of     
their aims2 and in the desire for       
riches1 ,,no2 so that the question is   
solved4    ,again1 the adversary may    
calumniate1 saying that1 although many  
desires are fulfilled in the acquisition
 of knowledge1 the last is  never       
attained1 which is the imperfection of  
that one desire1 which  does not gain   
its end2 and that will be both one and  
imperfect4    ,again one here replies   
that it is not a truth which is brought 
forward  in opposition1 that is1 that   
the last desire is never attained2 for  
our natural desires1 as is proved in the
 third treatise of this book1  are all  
tending to a certain end2 and the desire
 for knowledge is  natural1 so that this
 desire compasses a certain end1        
although but  few1 since they walk in   
the wrong path1 accomplish the day's    
journey4  ,and he who understands the   
,commentator in the third chapter1 ,on  

the  ,soul1 learns this of him2 and     
therefore ,aristotle says1 in the tenth 
chapter of the ,ethics1 against         
,simonides the ,poet1 that man ought to 
draw near to ,divine things as much as  
is possible2 wherein he shows  that our 
power tends towards a certain end4 ,and 
in the first book of  the ,ethics he    
says that the disciplined ,mind demands 
certainty in its  knowledge of things in
 proportion as their nature received    
certainty1  in which he proves that not 
only on the side of the man desiring    
knowledge1 but on the side of the       
desired object of knowledge1  attention 
ought to be given2 and therefore ,st4   
,paul says3 ,not much  knowledge1 but   
right knowledge in moderation4 ,so that 
in whatever way  the desire for         
knowledge is considered1 either         
generally or  particularly1 it comes to 
perfection4    ,and since knowledge is a
 noble perfection1 and through the      
desire for  it its perfection is not    
lost1 as is the case with the accursed  

riches1 we must note briefly how        
injurious they are when possessed1  and 
this is the third notice of their       
imperfection4 ,it is possible to  see   
that the possession of them is injurious
 for two reasons3 one1  that it is the  
cause of evil2 the other1 that it is the
 privation of  good4 ,it is the cause of
 evil1 which makes the timid possessor  
wakeful1 watchful1 and suspicious or    
hateful4    ,how great is the fear of   
that man who knows he carries wealth    
about  him1 when walking abroad1 when   
dwelling at home1 when not only wakeful 
or watching1 but when sleeping1 not only
 the fear that he may lose his          
property1 but fear for his life because 
he possesses these riches6  ,well do the
 miserable merchants know1 who travel   
through the ,world1  that the leaves    
which the wind stirs on the trees cause 
them to  tremble when they are bearing  
their wealth with them2 and when they   
are without it1 full of confidence they 
go singing and talking1 and  thus make  

their journey shorter6 ,therefore the   
,wise ,man says3 ,if the  traveller     
enters on his road empty1 he can sing in
 the presence of  thieves4 ,and this    
,lucan desires to express in the fifth  
book1 when he  praises the safety of    
poverty3 ,o1 the safe and secure liberty
 of the  poor ,life6 ,o1 narrow         
dwelling-places and thrift6 ,o1 not     
again deem  riches to be of the ,gods6  
,in what temples and within what palace 
walls  could this be1 that is to have no
 fear1 in some tumult or other1 of      
striking the hand of ,csar8    ,and     
,lucan says this when he depicts how    
,csar came by night to the  little house
 of the fisher ,amyclas to cross the    
,adriatic ,sea4 ,and how  great is the  
hatred that each man bears to the       
possessor of riches1  either through    
envy1 or from the desire to take        
possession of his  wealth6 ,so true it  
is1 that often and often1 contrary to   
due filial  piety1 the son meditates the
 death of the father2 and most great and

  most evident experience of this the   
,italians can have1 both on the  banks  
of the ,po and on the banks of the      
,tiber4 ,and therefore ,boethius  in the
 second chapter of his ,consolations    
says3 ,certainly ,avarice  makes men    
hateful4    ,nay1 their possession is   
privation of good1 for1 possessing those
  riches1 a man does not give freely    
with generosity1 which is a virtue1     
which is a perfect good1 and which makes
 men magnificent and beloved2  which    
does not lie in possession of those     
riches1 but in ceasing to  possess them4
 ,wherefore ,boethius in the same book  
says3 ,then money is  good when1        
bartered for other things1 by the use of
 generosity one no  longer possesses it4
 ,wherefore the baseness of riches is   
sufficiently  proved by all these       
remarks of his2 and therefore the man   
with an  upright desire and true        
knowledge never loves them2 and1 not    
loving  them1 he does not unite himself 
to them1 but always desires them to be  

far from himself1 except inasmuch as    
they are appointed to some  necessary   
service2 and it is a reasonable thing1  
since the perfect  cannot be united with
 the imperfect4 ,so we see that the     
curved line  never joins the straight   
line1 and if there be any conjunction1  
it is  not of line to line1 but of point
 to point4 ,and thus it follows that    
the ,mind which is upright in desire1   
and truthful in knowledge1 is not       
disheartened at the loss of wealth3 as  
the text asserts at the end of  that    
part4 ,and by this the text intends to  
prove that riches are as a  river       
flowing in the distance past the upright
 tower of ,reason1 or  rather of        
,nobility2 and that these riches cannot 
take ,nobility away  from him who has   
it4 ,and in this manner in the present  
,song it is  argued against riches4     
,,chapter ,,xiv4      ,having confuted  
the error of other men in that part     
wherein it was  advanced in support of  
riches1 it remains now to confute it in 

that  part where ,time is said to be a  
cause of ,nobility1 saying1 ,descent of 
wealth2 and this reproof or confutation 
is made in that part which  begins3     
,they will not have the vile ,turn      
noble4 ,and in the first  place one     
confutes this by means of an argument   
taken from those men  themselves who err
 in this way2 then1 to their greater    
confusion1 this  their argument is also 
destroyed2 and it does this when it     
says1 ,it  follows then from this4      
,finally it concludes1 their error being
  evident1 and it being therefore time  
to attend to the ,truth2 and it  does   
this when it says1 ,sound intellect     
reproves4    ,i say1 then1 ,they will   
not have the vile ,turn noble4 ,where it
 is to  be known that the opinion of    
these erroneous persons is1 that a man  
who is a peasant in the first place can 
never possibly be called a  ,nobleman2  
and the man who is the son of a peasant 
in like manner can  never be ,noble2 and
 this breaks or destroys their own      

argument when  they say that ,time is   
requisite to ,nobility1 adding that word
  descent4 ,for it is impossible by     
process of ,time to come to the         
generation of ,nobility in this way of  
theirs1 which declares it to be         
impossible for the humble peasant to    
become ,noble by any work that he  may  
do1 or through any accident2 and        
declares the mutation of a  peasant     
father into a ,noble son to be          
impossible4 ,for if the son of  the     
peasant is also a peasant1 and his son  
again is also a peasant1  and so always1
 it will never be possible to discover  
the place where  ,nobility can begin to 
be established by process of ,time4     
,and if the adversary1 wishing to defend
 himself1 should say that  ,nobility    
will begin at that period of ,time when 
the low estate of the  ancestors will be
 forgotten1 ,i reply that this goes     
against  themselves1 for even of        
necessity there will be a transmutation 
of  peasant into ,noble1 from one man   

into another1 or from father to son1    
which is against that which they        
propound4    ,and if the adversary      
should defend himself pertinaciously1   
saying that  indeed they do desire that 
it should be possible for this          
transmutation to take place when the low
 estate of the ancestors  passes into   
oblivion1 although the text takes no    
notice of this1 it is  right that the   
,commentary should reply to it4 ,and    
therefore ,i reply  thus3 that from this
 which they say there follow four very  
great  difficulties1 so that it cannot  
possibly be a good argument4 ,one is1   
that in proportion as ,human ,nature    
might become better1 the slower  would  
be the generation of ,nobility1 which is
 a very great  inconvenience2 since in  
proportion as a thing is honoured for   
its  excellence1 so much the more is it 
the cause of goodness2 and ,nobility  is
 reckoned amongst the good4 ,what this  
means is shown thus3 ,if  ,nobility1    
which ,i understand as a good thing1    

should be generated by  oblivion1       
,nobility would be generated in         
proportion to the speediness  with which
 men might be forgotten1 for so much the
 sooner would  oblivion descend upon    
all4 ,hence1 in proportion as men might 
be  forgotten1 so much the sooner would 
they be ,noble2 and1 on the  contrary1  
in proportion to the length of time     
during which they were  held in         
remembrance1 so much the longer it would
 be before they could  be ennobled4     
,the second difficulty is1 that in      
nothing apart from men would it be      
possible to make this distinction1 that 
is to say1 ,noble or ,vile1  which is   
very inconvenient2 since1 in each       
species of things we see  the image of  
,nobility or of ,baseness1 wherefore we 
often call one  horse noble and one     
vile2 and one falcon noble and one vile2
 and one  pearl noble and one vile4 ,and
 that it would not be possible to make  
this distinction is thus proved2 if the 
oblivion of the humble  ancestors is the

 cause of ,nobility1 or rather the      
baseness of the  ancestors never was1 it
 is not possible for oblivion of them to
 be1  since oblivion is a destruction of
 remembrance1 and in those other        
animals1 and in plants1 and in minerals1
 lowness and loftiness are not          
observed1 since in one they are natural 
or innate and in an equal  state1 and   
,nobility cannot possibly be in their   
generation1 and  likewise neither can   
vileness nor baseness2 since one regards
 the one  and the other as habit and    
privation1 which are possible to occur  
in  the same subject2 and therefore in  
them it would not be possible for a     
distinction to exist between the one and
 the other4    ,and if the adversary    
should wish to say1 that in other things
 ,nobility  is represented by the       
goodness of the thing1 but in a man it  
is  understood because there is no      
remembrance of his humble or base       
condition1 one would wish to reply not  
with words1 but with the sword1  to such

 bestiality as it would be to give to   
other things goodness as  a cause for   
,nobility1 and to found the ,nobility of
 men upon  forgetfulness or oblivion as 
a first cause4    ,the third difficulty 
is1 that often the person or thing      
generated  would come before the        
generator1 which is quite impossible2   
and it is  possible to prove this thus3 
,let us suppose that ,gherardo da       
,cammino  might have been the grandson  
of the most vile peasant who ever drank 
of the ,sile or of the ,cagnano1 and    
that oblivion had not yet overtaken  his
 grandfather2 who will be bold enough to
 say that ,gherardo da  ,cammino was a  
vile man8 and who will not agree with me
 in saying that  he was ,noble8         
,certainly no one1 however presumptuous 
he may wish to  be1 for he was so1 and  
his memory will always be treasured4 ,if
  oblivion had not yet overtaken his    
ancestor1 as is proposed in  opposition1
 so that he might be great through      
,nobility1 and the  ,nobility in him    

might be seen so clearly1 even as one   
does see it1  then it would have been   
first in him before the founder of his  
,nobility could have existed2 and this  
is impossible in the extreme4    ,the   
fourth difficulty is1 that such a man1  
the supposed grandfather1  would have   
been held ,noble after he was dead who  
was not ,noble whilst  alive2 and a more
 inconvenient thing could not be4 ,one  
proves it thus3  ,let us suppose that in
 the age of ,dardanus there might be a  
remembrance of his low ancestors1 and   
let us suppose that in the age  of      
,laomedon this memory might have passed 
away1 and that oblivion had  overtaken  
it4 ,according to the adverse opinion1  
,laomedon was ,noble and  ,dardanus was 
vile1 each in his lifetime4 ,we1 to whom
 the remembrance  of the ancestors of   
,dardanus has not come1 shall we say    
that ,dardanus  living was vile1 and    
dead a ,noble8 ,and is not this contrary
 to the  legend which says that         
,dardanus was the son of ,jupiter 7for  

such is  the fable1 which one ought not 
to regard whilst disputing              
philosophically72 and yet if the        
adversary might wish to find support  in
 the fable1 certainly that which the    
fable veils destroys his  arguments4    
,and thus it is proved that the         
argument1 which asserted  that oblivion 
is the cause of ,nobility1 is false4    
,,chapter ,,xv4      ,since1 by their   
own argument1 the ,song has confuted    
them1 and proved  that ,time is not     
requisite to ,nobility1 it proceeds     
immediately to  confound their          
premisses1 since of their false         
arguments no rust  remains in the mind  
which is disposed towards ,truth2 and   
this it does  when it says1 ,it follows 
then from this4 ,where it is to be known
  that if it is not possible for a      
peasant to become a ,noble1 or for a    
,noble son to be born of a humble       
father1 as is advanced in their         
opinion1 of two difficulties one must   
follow4    ,the first is1 that there can

 be no ,nobility2 the other is1 that the
  ,world may have been always full of   
men1 so that from one alone the  ,human 
,race cannot be descended2 and this it  
is possible to prove4    ,if ,nobility  
is not generated afresh1 and it has been
 stated many times  that such is the    
basis of their opinion1 the peasant man 
not being  able to beget it in himself1 
or the humble father to pass it on to   
his  son1 the man always is the same as 
he was born2 and such as the father  was
 born1 so is the son born2 and so this  
process from one condition  onwards is  
reached even by the first parent2 for   
such as was the first  father1 that is1 
,adam1 so must the whole ,human ,race   
be1 because from  him to the modern     
nations it will not be possible to find1
 according  to that argument1 any change
 whatever4 ,then1 if ,adam himself was  
,noble1 we are all ,noble2 if he was    
vile1 we are all vile or base2  which is
 no other than to remove the distinction
 between these  conditions1 and thus it 

is to remove the conditions4    ,and the
 ,song states this1 which follows from  
what is advanced1 saying1  ,that all are
 high or base4 ,and if this is not so1  
then any nation is  to be called ,noble1
 and any is to be called vile1 of       
necessity4  ,transmutation from vileness
 into ,nobility being thus taken away1  
the  ,human ,race must be descended from
 different ancestors1 that is1 some     
from ,nobles and some from vile persons1
 and so the ,song says1 ,or that  in    
,time there never was ,beginning to our 
race1 that is to say1 one  beginning2 it
 does not say beginnings4 ,and this is  
most false  according to the            
,philosopher1 according to our ,faith1  
which cannot  lie1 according to the ,law
 and ancient belief of the ,gentiles4   
,for  although the ,philosopher does not
 assert the succession from one first   
man1 yet he would have one essential    
being to be in all men1 which  cannot   
possibly have different origins4 ,and   
,plato would have that all  men depend  

upon one idea alone1 and not on more or 
many1 which is to  give them only one   
beginning4 ,and undoubtedly ,aristotle  
would laugh  very loudly if he heard of 
two species to be made out of the ,human
  ,race1 as of horses and asses2 and    
7may ,aristotle forgive me7 one might   
call those men asses who think in this  
way4 ,for according to our ,faith       
7which is to be preserved in its        
entirety7 it is most false1 as  ,solomon
 makes evident where he draws a         
distinction between men and the  brute  
animals1 for he calls men all the sons  
of ,adam1 and this he  does when he     
says3 ,who knows if the spirits of the  
sons of ,adam mount  upwards1 and if    
those of the beasts go downwards8 ,and  
that it is  false according to the      
,gentiles1 let the testimony of ,ovid in
 the  first chapter of his              
,metamorphoses prove1 where he treats of
 the  constitution of the ,world        
according to the ,pagan belief1 or      
rather  belief of the ,gentiles1 saying3

 ,man is born --he did not say ,men2  he
 said1 ,man is born1 or rather1 that the
 ,artificer of all things  made him from
 ,divine seed1 or that the new earth1   
but lately parted  from the noble ether1
 retained seeds of the kindred ,heaven1 
which1  mingled with the water of the   
river1 formed the son of ,japhet into an
  image of the ,gods1 who govern all4   
,where evidently he asserts the  first  
man to have been one alone2 and         
therefore the ,song says1 ,but  that ,i 
cannot hold1 that is1 to the opinion    
that man had not one  beginning2 and the
 ,song subjoins1 ,nor yet if ,christians
 they4 ,and it  says ,christians1 not   
,philosophers1 or rather ,gentiles1     
whose opinion  also is adverse1 because 
the ,christian opinion is of greater    
force1  and is the destroyer of all     
calumny1 thanks to the supreme light of 
,heaven1 which illuminates it4    ,then 
when ,i say1 ,sound intellect reproves  
their words ,as false1 and  turns away1 
,i conclude this error to be confuted1  

and ,i say that it  is time to open the 
eyes to the ,truth2 and this is         
expressed when ,i  say1 ,and now ,i seek
 to tell1 ,as it appears to me4 ,it is  
now evident  to sound minds that the    
words of those men are vain1 that is1   
without  a crumb or particle of ,truth2 
and ,i say sound not without cause4 ,our
  intellect may be said to be sound or  
unsound4 ,and ,i say intellect for  the 
noble part of our ,soul1 which it is    
possible to designate by the  common    
word ,mind4 ,it may be called sound or  
healthy1 when it is not  obstructed in  
its action by sickness of mind or body1 
which is to know  what things are1 as   
,aristotle expresses it in the third    
chapter on the  ,soul4    ,for1 owing to
 the sickness of the ,soul1 ,i have seen
 three horrible  infirmities in the     
minds of men4    ,one is caused by      
natural vanity1 for many men are so     
presumptuous that  they believe they    
know everything1 and1 owing to this1    
they assert  things to be facts which   

are not facts4 ,tullius especially      
execrates  this vice in the first       
chapter of the ,offices1 and ,st4       
,thomas in his  book against the        
,gentiles1 saying3 ,there are many men1 
so  presumptuous in their conceit1 who  
believe that they can compass all       
things with their intellect1 deeming all
 that appears to them to be  true1 and  
count as false that which does not      
appear to them4 ,hence it  arises that  
they never attain to any knowledge2     
believing themselves  to be sufficiently
 learned1 they never inquire1 they never
 listen2  they desire to be inquired of1
 and when a question is put1 bad enough 
is their reply4 ,of those men ,solomon  
speaks in ,proverbs3 ,seest thou a  man 
that is hasty in his words8 there is    
more hope of a fool than of  him4       
,another infirmity of mind is caused by 
natural weakness or smallness1  for many
 men are so vilely obstinate or stubborn
 that they cannot  believe that it is   
possible either for them or for others  

to know  things2 and such men as these  
never of themselves seek knowledge1 nor 
ever reason2 for what other men say1    
they care not at all4 ,and against      
these men ,aristotle speaks in the first
 book of the ,ethics1 declaring  those  
men to be insufficient or unsatisfactory
 hearers of ,moral  ,philosophy4 ,those 
men always live1 like beasts1 a life of 
grossness1  the despair of all learning4
    ,the third infirmity of mind is     
caused by the levity of nature2 for     
many men are of such light fancy that in
 all their arguments they go  astray1   
and even when they make a syllogism and 
have concluded1 from  that conclusion   
they fly off into another1 and it seems 
to them most  subtle argument4 ,they    
start not from any true beginning1 and  
truly  they see nothing true in their   
imagination4 ,of those men the          
,philosopher says that it is not right  
to trouble about them1 or to  have      
business with them1 saying1 in the first
 book of ,physics1 that  against him who

 denies the first postulate it is not   
right to dispute4  ,and of such men as  
these are many idiots1 who may not know 
their ,a ,b  ,c1 and who would wish to  
dispute in ,geometry1 in ,astrology1 and
 in the  ,science of ,physics4    ,also 
through sickness or defect of body1 it  
is possible for the ,mind  to be unsound
 or sick2 even as through some primal   
defect at birth1 as  with those who are 
born fools1 or through alteration in the
 brain1 as  with the madmen4 ,and of    
this mental infirmity the ,law speaks   
when it  says3 ,in him who makes a ,will
 or ,testament1 at the time when he     
makes  the ,will or ,testament1 health  
of mind1 not health of body1 is         
required4    ,but to those intellects   
which from sickness of mind or body are 
not  infirm1 but are free1 diligent1 and
 whole in the light of ,truth1 ,i say   
it must be evident that the opinion of  
the people1 which has been  stated      
above1 is vain1 that is1 without any    
value whatever1 worthless4              

,afterwards the ,song subjoins that ,i  
thus judge them to be false and  vain2  
and this it does when it says1 ,sound   
intellect reproves their  words ,as     
false1 and turns away4 ,and afterwards  
,i say that it is time  to demonstrate  
or prove the ,truth2 and ,i say that it 
is now right to  state what kind of     
thing true ,nobility is1 and how it is  
possible to  know the man in whom it    
exists2 and ,i speak of this where ,i   
say3        ,and now ,i seek to tell    
,as it appears to me1      ,what is1    
whence comes1 what signs attest         
,a true ,nobility4          ,,chapter   
,,xvi4      ,the ,king shall rejoice in 
,god1 and all those shall be praised who
  swear by him1 for closed is the mouth 
of those who speak wicked  things4      
,these words ,i can here propound in all
 truth2 because each  true ,king ought  
especially to love the ,truth4          
,wherefore it is written  in the ,book  
of ,wisdom1 ,love the ,light of ,wisdom1
 you1 who stand  before1 the people1 and

 the ,light of ,wisdom is this same     
,truth4 ,i  say1 then1 every ,king shall
 rejoice that the most false and most   
injurious opinion of the wicked and     
deceitful men who have up to this  time 
spoken iniquitously of ,nobility is     
confuted4    ,it is now requisite to    
proceed to the discussion of the ,truth 
according to the division made above1 in
 the third chapter of the  present      
treatise4 ,this second part1 then1 which
 begins1 ,i say that  from one root     
,each ,virtue firstly springs1 intends  
to describe this  ,nobility according to
 the ,truth1 and this part is divided   
into two3  for in the first the         
intention is to prove what this         
,nobility is2 and  in the second how it 
is possible to recognize him in whom it 
dwells1  and this second part begins1   
,such virtue shows its good4 ,the first 
part1 again1 has two parts2 for in the  
first certain things are sought  for    
which are needful in order to perceive  
the definition of ,nobility2  in the    

second1 one looks for its definition1   
and this second part  begins1 ,where    
virtue is1 there is ,a ,nobleman4       
,that we may enter perfectly into the   
treatise1 two things are to be          
considered in the first place4 ,the one 
is1 what is meant by this word          
,nobility1 taken alone1 in its simple   
meaning2 the other is1 in what  path it 
is needful to walk in order to search   
out the before-named  definition4 ,i    
say1 then1 that1 if we will pay         
attention to the common  use of speech1 
by this word ,nobility is understood the
 perfection of  its own nature in each  
thing2 wherefore it is predicated not   
only of  the man1 but also of all       
things2 for the man calls a stone noble1
 a  plant or tree noble1 a horse noble1 
a falcon noble1 whatever is seen  to be 
perfect in its nature4 ,and therefore   
,solomon says in  ,ecclesiastes1        
,blessed is the land whose ,king is     
,noble2 which is no  other than saying1 
whose ,king is perfect according to the 

perfection  of the mind and body2 and he
 thus makes this evident by that which  
he  says previously1 when he writes1    
,woe unto the land whose ,king is a     
child4 ,for that is not a perfect man1  
and a man is a child1 if not by  age1   
yet by his disordered manners and by the
 evil or defect of his  life1 as the    
,philosopher teaches in the first book  
of the ,ethics4    ,there are some      
foolish people who believe that by this 
word ,noble is  meant that which is to  
be named and known by many men2 and they
 say  that it comes from a verb which   
stands for to know1 that is1  nosco4    
,but this is most false1 for1 if this   
could be1 those  things which were most 
named and best known in their species   
would in  their species be the most     
noble4 ,thus the obelisk of ,st4 ,peter 
would  be the most noble stone in the   
world2 and ,asdente1 the shoemaker of   
,parma1 would be more ,noble than any   
one of his fellow-citizens2 and         
,albuino della ,scala would be more     

,noble than ,guido da ,castello di      
,reggio4 ,each one of those things is   
most false1 and therefore it is  most   
false that nobile 7noble7 can come from 
cognoscere1  to know4 ,it comes from non
 vile 7not vile72 wherefore  nobile     
7noble7 is as it were non vile 7not     
vile74    ,this perfection the          
,philosopher means in the seventh       
chapter of  ,physics1 when he says3     
,each thing is especially perfect when  
it  touches and joins its own proper or 
relative virtue2 and then it is         
especially perfect according to its     
nature4 ,it is1 then1 possible to  call 
the circle perfect when it is truly a   
circle1 that is1 when it is  joined with
 its own proper or relative virtue1 it  
is then complete in  its nature1 and it 
may then be called a noble circle4 ,this
 is when  there is a point in it which  
is equally distant from the             
circumference4 ,that circle which has   
the figure of an egg loses its  virtue  
and it is not ,noble1 nor that circle   

which has the form of an  almost full   
moon1 because in that its nature is not 
perfect4 ,and thus  evidently it is     
possible to see that commonly1 or in a  
general sense1  this word ,nobility1    
expresses in all things perfection of   
their  nature1 and this is that for     
which one seeks primarily in order to   
enter more clearly into the discussion  
of that part which it is  intended to   
explain4    ,secondly1 it remains to be 
seen how one must proceed in order to   
find  the definition of ,human ,nobility
 to which the present argument leads4   
,i say1 then1 that since in those things
 which are of one species1 as  are all  
men1 it is not possible by essential    
first principles to  define their       
highest perfection1 it is necessary to  
know and to define  that by their       
effects4 ,therefore one reads in the    
,gospel of ,st4  ,matthew1 when ,christ 
speaks1 ,beware of false prophets3 by   
their  fruits ye shall know them4 ,and  
in a direct way the definition we seek  

is to be seen by the fruits1 which are  
the moral and intellectual  virtues of  
which this ,nobility is the seed1 as in 
its definition will  be fully evident4  
,and these are those two things we must 
see before one can proceed to  the      
others1 as is said in the previous part 
of this chapter4          ,,chapter     
,,xvii4      ,since those two things    
which it seemed needful to understand   
before  the text could be proceeded with
 have been seen and understood1 it now  
remains to proceed with the text and to 
explain it1 and the text then  begins3  
,i say that from one root        ,each  
,virtue firstly springs1      ,virtue1  
,i mean1 that ,happiness        ,to man1
 by action1 brings    ,and ,i subjoin3  
,this1 as the ,ethics teach1        ,is 
habit of right choice2    placing the   
whole definition of the ,moral ,virtues 
as it is defined by  the ,philosopher in
 the second book of ,ethics1 in which   
two things  principally are understood4 
,one is1 that each ,virtue comes from   

one  first principle or original cause2 
the other is1 that by ,each ,virtue  ,i 
mean the ,moral ,virtues1 and this is   
evident from the words1 ,this1  as the  
,ethics teach    ,hence it is to be     
known that our most right and proper    
fruits are the  ,moral ,virtues1 since  
on every side they are in our power2 and
 these  are differently distinguished   
and enumerated by different             
philosophers4 ,but it seems to me right 
to omit the opinion of other  men in    
that part where the divine opinion of   
,aristotle is stated by  word of mouth1 
and therefore1 wishing to describe what 
those ,moral  ,virtues are1 ,i will pass
 on1 briefly discoursing of them        
according to  his opinion4    ,there are
 eleven ,virtues named by the said      
,philosopher4 ,the first is  called     
,courage1 which is sword and bridle to  
moderate our boldness and  timidity in  
things which are the ruin of our life4  
,the second is  ,temperance1 which is   
the law and bridle of our gluttony and  

of our  undue abstinence in those things
 requisite for the preservation of our  
life4 ,the third is ,liberality1 which  
is the moderator of our giving  and of  
our receiving things temporal4 ,the     
fourth is ,magnificence1  which is the  
moderator of great expenditures1 making 
and supporting  those within certain    
limits4 ,the fifth is ,magnanimity1     
which is the  moderator and acquirer of 
great honours and fame4 ,the sixth is   
the  ,love of ,honour1 which is the     
moderator and regulator to us of the    
honours of this ,world4 ,the seventh is 
,mildness1 which moderates our  anger   
and our excessive or undue patience     
against our external  misfortunes4 ,the 
eighth is ,affability1 which makes us   
live on good  terms with other men4 ,the
 ninth is called ,truth1 which makes us 
moderate in boasting ourselves over and 
above what we are1 and in  depreciating 
ourselves below what we are in our      
speech4 ,the tenth is  called           
,eutrapelia1 pleasantness of            

intercourse1 which makes us  moderate in
 joys or pleasures1 causing us to use   
them in due measure4  ,the eleventh is  
,justice1 which teaches us to love and  
to act with  uprightness in all things4 
,and each of these ,virtues has two     
collateral enemies1 that is to say1     
vices2 one in excess and one in defect4 
,and these ,moral ,virtues are  the     
centres or middle stations between them1
 and those ,virtues all  spring from one
 root or principle1 that is to say1 from
 the habit of  our own good choice4     
,wherefore1 in a general sense1 it is   
possible to  say of all1 that they are a
 habit of choice standing firm in due   
moderation2 and these are those which   
make a man happy in their active        
operation1 as the ,philosopher says in  
the first book of the ,ethics  when he  
defines ,happiness1 saying that         
,happiness is virtuous action in  a     
perfect life4    ,by many1 ,prudence1   
that is1 good1 judgment or wisdom1 is   
well asserted  to be a ,moral ,virtue4  

,but ,aristotle numbers that amongst the
  ,intellectual ,virtues1 although it is
 the guide of the moral1 and  points out
 the way by which they are formed1 and  
without it they could  not be4 ,verily1 
it is to be known that we can have in   
this life two  happinesses or felicities
 by following two different roads1 both 
good  and excellent1 which lead us to   
them3 the one is the ,active ,life and  
the other is the ,contemplative ,life1  
which 7although by the ,active  ,life   
one may attain1 as has been said1 to a  
good state of ,happiness7  leads us to  
supreme ,happiness1 even as the         
,philosopher proves in the  tenth book  
of the ,ethics2 and ,christ affirms it  
with ,his own ,lips in  the ,gospel of  
,luke1 speaking to ,martha1 when        
replying to her3 ,martha1  ,martha1 thou
 art anxious and troubled about many    
things3 verily1 one  thing alone is     
needful1 meaning1 that which thou hast  
in hand2 and ,he  adds3 ,mary has chosen
 the better part1 which shall not be    

taken away  from her4 ,and ,mary1       
according to that which is previously   
written in  the ,gospel1 sitting at the 
feet of ,christ1 showed no care for the 
service of the house1 but listened only 
to the words of the ,saviour4    ,for if
 we will explain this in the moral      
sense1 our ,lord wished to  show thereby
 that the ,contemplative ,life was      
supremely good1 although  the ,active   
,life might be good2 this is evident to 
him who will give  his mind to the words
 of the ,gospel4    ,it would be        
possible1 however1 for any one to say1  
in argument against  me3 ,since the     
happiness of the ,contemplative ,life is
 more excellent  than that of the       
,active ,life1 and both may be1 and are1
 the fruit and  end of ,nobility1 why   
not rather have proceeded in the        
argument along  the line of the         
,intellectual ,virtues than of the      
,moral8 ,to this it is  possible to     
reply briefly1 that in all instruction  
it is desirable to  have regard to the  

capability of the learner1 and to lead  
him by that  path which is easiest to   
him4 ,wherefore1 since the ,moral       
,virtues  appear to be1 and are1 more   
general and more required than the      
others1  and are more seen in outward   
appearances1 it was more convenient and 
more useful to proceed along that path  
than by the other2 for thus  indeed we  
shall attain to the knowledge of the    
bees by arguing of  profit from the wax1
 as well as by arguing of profit from   
the honey1  for both the one and the    
other proceed from them4                
,,chapter ,,xviii4      ,in the         
preceding chapter has been determined   
how each ,moral ,virtue  comes from one 
root1 or first principle1 that is1 a    
good habit of  choice2 and the present  
text bears upon that1 until the part    
which  begins3 ,nobility by right4 ,in  
this part1 then1 it proceeds1 by a way  
that is allowable1 to teach that each   
,virtue mentioned above1 taken  singly1 
or otherwise generally1 proceeds from   

,nobility as an effect  from its cause1 
and it is founded upon a philosophical  
proposition1  which says that1 when two 
things are found to meet in one1 both   
these  things must be reduced to a      
third1 or one to the other1 as an effect
  to a cause3 because one thing having  
stood first and of itself1 it  cannot   
exist except it be from one2 and if     
those two could not be both  the effect 
of a third1 or else one the effect of   
the other1 each would  have had a       
separate first cause1 which is          
impossible4 ,it says1 then1  that       
,such virtue shows its good        ,to  
others' intellect1      ,for when two   
things agree in one1        ,producing  
one effect1        ,one must from other 
come1        ,or each one from a third1 
,if each be as each1 and more1 then one 
,from the other is inferred4    ,where  
it is to be known that here one does not
 proceed by an evident  demonstration2  
as it would be to say that the cold is  
the generative  principle of water1 when

 we see the clouds2 but certainly by a  
beautiful and suitable induction4 ,for  
if there are many laudable  things in   
us1 and one is the principle or first   
cause of them all1  reason requires each
 to be reduced to that first cause1     
which  comprehends more things2 and this
 ought more reasonably to be called  the
 principle of those things than that    
which comprehends in itself  less of    
their principle4 ,for as the trunk of a 
tree1 which contains or  encloses all   
the other branches1 ought to be called  
the first  beginning and cause of those 
branches1 and not those branches the    
cause of the trunk1 so ,nobility1 which 
comprehends each and every  ,virtue 7as 
the cause contains the effect7 and many 
other actions or  operations of ours    
which are praiseworthy1 it ought to be  
held for  such2 that the ,virtue may be 
reduced to it1 rather than to the other 
third which is in us4 ,finally it says  
that the position taken 7namely1  that  
each ,moral ,virtue comes from one root1

 and that such ,virtue and  ,nobility   
unite in one thing1 as is stated above1 
and that therefore it  is requisite to  
reduce the one to the other1 or both to 
a third2 and  that if the one contains  
the value of the other and more1 from   
that it  proceeds rather than from the  
other third7 may be considered as a rule
  established and set forth1 as was     
before intended4    ,and thus ends this 
passage and this present part4          
,,chapter ,,xix4      ,since in the     
preceding part are discussed three      
certain definite  things which were     
necessary to be seen before we define1  
if possible1  this good thing of which  
we speak1 it is right to proceed to the 
following part1 which begins3 ,where    
,virtue is1 there is ,a ,nobleman4  ,and
 it is desirable to reduce this into two
 parts4 ,in the first a  certain thing  
is proved1 which before has been touched
 upon and left  unproved2 in the second1
 concluding1 the definition sought is   
found2  and this second part begins2    

,comes virtue from what's noble1 as     
,from  black comes violet4    ,in       
evidence of the first part1 it is to be 
recalled to mind that it  says          
previously that1 if ,nobility is worth  
more and extends farther  than ,virtue1 
,virtue rather will proceed from it1    
which this part now  proves1 namely1    
that ,nobility extends farther1 and     
produces a copy of  ,heaven1 saying that
 wherever there is ,virtue there is     
,nobility4 ,and  here it is to be known 
that 7as it is written in the ,books of 
the ,law1  and is held as a ,rule of the
 ,law7 in those things which of         
themselves  are evident there is no need
 of proof2 and nothing is more evident  
than that ,nobility exists wherever     
there is ,virtue1 and each thing1       
commonly speaking1 that we see perfect  
according to its nature is  worthy to be
 called ,noble4 ,it says then3 ,so      
likewise that is ,heaven  ,wherein a    
star is hung1 ,but ,heaven may be       
starless4 ,so there is  ,nobility       

wherever there is ,virtue1 and not      
,virtue wherever there is  ,nobility4   
,and with a beautiful and suitable      
example2 for truly it is a  ,heaven in  
which many and various stars shine4 ,in 
this ,nobility there  shine the ,moral  
and the ,intellectual ,virtues3 there   
shine in it the  good dispositions      
bestowed by nature1 piety1 and religion2
 the  praiseworthy passions1 as ,modesty
 and ,mercy and many others2 there      
shine in it the good gifts of the body1 
that is to say1 beauty1  strength1 and  
almost perpetual health2 and so many are
 the stars which  stud its ,heaven that 
certainly it is not to be wondered at if
 they  produce many and divers effects  
in ,human ,nobility2 such are the       
natures and the powers of those stars1  
assembled and contained within  one     
simple substance1 through the medium of 
which stars1 as through  different      
branches1 it bears fruit in various     
ways4 ,certainly1 with  all earnestness1
 ,i make bold to say that ,human        

,nobility1 so far as  many of its fruits
 are considered1 excels that of the     
,angel1 although  the ,angelic may be   
more ,divine in its unity4    ,of this  
,nobility of ours1 which fructifies into
 such fruits and so  numerous1 the      
,psalmist had perception when he        
composed that ,psalm  which begins3 ,o  
,lord our ,god1 how admirable is ,thy   
,name through all  the ,earth6 where he 
praises man1 as if wondering at the     
,divine  affection for this ,human      
,creature1 saying3 ,what is man1 that   
,thou1  ,god1 dost visit him8 ,thou hast
 made him a little lower than the       
,angels2 ,thou hast crowned him with    
glory and honour1 and placed him  over  
the works of ,thy hands4 ,then1 truly1  
it was a beautiful and  suitable        
comparison to compare ,heaven with      
,human ,nobility4    ,then1 when the    
,song says1 ,in women and the young ,a  
modesty is seen1  ,not virtue1 noble    
yet1 it proves that ,nobility extends   
into parts  where ,virtue is not2 and it

 says1 noble yet1 alluding to ,nobility 
as  indeed a true safeguard1 being where
 there is shame or modesty1 that  is to 
say1 fear of dishonour1 as it is in     
maidens and youths1 where  shame or     
modesty is good and praiseworthy2 which 
shame or modesty is  not virtue1 but a  
certain good passion4 ,and it says1 ,in 
women and the  young1 that is to say1 in
 youths2 because1 as the ,philosopher   
expresses it in the fourth book of the  
,ethics1 shame1 bashfulness1  modesty1  
is not praiseworthy nor good in the old 
nor in men of  studious habits1 because 
to them it is fit that they beware of   
those  things which would lead them to  
shame4 ,in youths and maidens such      
caution is not so much required1 and    
therefore in them the fear of  receiving
 dishonour through some fault is        
praiseworthy4 ,it springs  from         
,nobility1 and it is possible to account
 their timid bashfulness  to be         
,nobility4 ,baseness and ignoble ways   
produce impudence3 wherefore  it is a   

good and excellent sign of ,nobility in 
children and persons of  tender years   
when1 after some fault1 their shame is  
painted in their  face1 which blush of  
shame is then the fruit of true         
,nobility4          ,,chapter ,,xx4     
,when it proceeds to say1 ,comes virtue 
from what's noble1 as ,from  black comes
 violet1 the text advances to the       
desired definition of  ,nobility1 by    
which one may see what this ,nobility is
 of which so many  people speak         
erroneously4 ,it says then1 drawing a   
conclusion from that  which has been    
said before1 that each ,virtue1 or      
rather its generator1  that is to say1  
the habit of right choice1 which stands 
firm in due  moderation1 will spring    
forth from this1 that is1 ,nobility4    
,and it  gives an example in the        
colours1 saying1 as from the black the  
violet1  so this ,virtue springs from   
,nobility4 ,the violet is a mixed colour
 of  purple and black1 but the black    
prevails1 and the colour is named from  

it4 ,and thus the ,virtue is a mixed    
thing of ,nobility and ,passion2 but1   
because ,nobility prevails1 the ,virtue 
takes its name from it1 and is  called  
,goodness4 ,then afterwards it argues1  
by that which has been  said1 that no   
man ought to say boastfully1 ,i am of   
such and such a  race or family2 nor    
ought he to believe that he is of this  
,nobility  unless the fruits of it are  
in him4 ,and immediately it renders a   
reason1 saying that those who have this 
,grace1 that is to say1 this  ,divine   
thing1 are almost ,gods as it were1     
without spot of vice1 and no  one has   
the power to bestow this except ,god    
alone1 with whom there is  no respect of
 persons1 even as ,divine ,scripture    
makes manifest4 ,and it  does not appear
 too extravagant when it says1 ,they are
 as ,gods1 for  as it is argued         
previously in the seventh chapter of the
 third  treatise1 even as there are men 
most vile and bestial so are men most   
,noble and ,divine4 ,and this ,aristotle

 proves in the seventh chapter of       
,ethics by the text of ,homer the poet2 
therefore1 let not those men who  are of
 the ,uberti of ,florence1 nor those of 
the ,visconti of ,milan1  say1 ,because 
,i am of such a family or race1 ,i am   
,noble1 for the  ,divine seed falls not 
into a race of men1 that is1 into a     
family2 but  it falls into individual   
persons1 and1 as will be proved below1  
the  family does not make individual    
persons ,noble1 but the individual      
persons make the family ,noble4    ,then
 when it says1 ,god only gives it to the
 ,soul1 the argument is of  the         
susceptive1 that is1 of the subject     
whereon this ,divine gift  descends1    
which is indeed a ,divine gift1         
according to the word of the  ,apostle3 
,every good gift and every perfect gift 
comes from above1  proceeding from the  
,father of ,light4 ,it says then that   
,god alone  imparts this ,grace to the  
,soul that ,he sees pure1 within the    
,soul of  that man whom ,he sees to be  

perfectly prepared and fit to receive in
  his own proper person this ,divine    
action2 for1 according as the           
,philosopher says in the second chapter 
,of the ,soul1 things must be  prepared 
for their agents and qualified to       
receive their acts2  wherefore if the   
,soul is imperfectly prepared1 it is not
 qualified to  receive this blessed and 
,divine infusion1 even as a precious    
stone1 if  it is badly cut or prepared1 
wherever it is imperfect1 cannot receive
  the celestial virtue2 even as that    
noble ,guido ,guinizzelli said1 in a    
,song of his which begins3 ,to gentle   
hearts ,love ever will repair4 ,it  is  
possible for the ,soul to be unqualified
 through some defect of  temper1 or     
perhaps through some sinister           
circumstances of the time in  which the 
person lives1 and into a ,soul so       
unhappy as this the ,divine  radiance   
never shines4 ,and it may be said of    
such men as these1 whose  ,souls are    
deprived of this ,light1 that they are  

as deep valleys turned  towards the     
,north1 or rather subterranean caves    
wherein the light of  the ,sun never    
enters unless it be reflected from      
another part which  has caught its rays4
    ,finally1 it deduces1 from that     
which has been previously said1 that    
the ,virtues are the fruit of ,nobility1
 and that ,god places that  ,nobility in
 the ,soul which has a good foundation4 
,for to some1 that  is1 to those who    
have intellect1 who are but few1 it is  
evident that  human ,nobility is no     
other than the seed of ,happiness       
,that seed of ,happiness        ,falls  
in the hearts of few1      ,planted by  
,god within the ,souls        ,spread to
 receive ,his dew2    that is to say1   
whose body is in every part perfectly   
prepared1  ordered1 or qualified4       
,for if the ,virtues are the fruit of   
,nobility1 and ,happiness is  pleasure  
or sweetness acquired through or by     
them1 it is evident that  this ,nobility
 is the seed of ,happiness1 as has been 

said4 ,and if one  considers well1 this 
definition comprehends all the four     
arguments1  that is to say1 the         
material1 the formal1 the efficient1 and
 the  final3 material1 inasmuch as it   
says1 to the ,soul spread to receive1   
which is the material and subject of    
,nobility2 formal1 inasmuch as it  says1
 ,that seed2 efficient1 inasmuch as it  
says1 ,planted by ,god  within the      
,soul2 final1 inasmuch as it says1 of   
,happiness1 ,heaven's  blessing4 ,and   
thus is defined this our good gift1     
which descends into  us in like manner  
from the ,supreme and ,spiritual ,power1
 as virtue into  a precious stone from a
 most noble celestial body4             
,,chapter ,,xxi4      ,that we may have 
more perfect knowledge of ,human        
,goodness1 as it is  the original cause 
in us of all good that can be called    
,nobility1 it  is requisite to explain  
clearly in this especial chapter how    
this  ,goodness descends into us4    ,in
 the first place1 it comes by the       

,natural way1 and then by the           
,theological way1 that is to say1 the   
,divine and ,spiritual4 ,in the  first  
place1 it is to be known that man is    
composed of ,soul and body2  but that   
,goodness or ,nobility is of the ,soul1 
as has been said1 and is  after the     
manner of seed from the ,divine ,virtue4
 ,by different  philosophers it has been
 differently argued concerning the      
difference  in our ,souls2 for ,avicenna
 and ,algazel were of opinion that      
,souls of  themselves and from their    
beginning were ,noble or ,base4 ,plato  
and some  others were of opinion that   
they proceeded by the stars1 and were   
,noble more or less according to the    
nobility of the star4 ,pythagoras  was  
of opinion that all were of one         
nobility1 not only human ,souls1  but   
with human ,souls those of the brute    
animals and of the trees and  the forms 
of minerals2 and he said that all the   
difference in the  bodies is form4 ,if  
each one were to defend his opinion1 it 

might be  that ,truth would be seen to  
be in all4 ,but since on the surface    
they  seem somewhat distant from the    
,truth1 one must not proceed according  
to those opinions1 but according to the 
opinion of ,aristotle and of  the       
,peripatetics4 ,and therefore ,i say    
that when the human seed falls  into its
 receptacle1 that is1 into the matrix1  
it bears with it the  virtue or power of
 the generative ,soul1 and the virtue or
 power of  ,heaven1 and the virtue or   
power of the aliments united or bound   
together1 that is the involution or     
complex nature of the seed4 ,it  matures
 and prepares the material for the      
formative power or virtue  which the    
generating ,soul bestows2 and the       
formative power or virtue  prepares the 
organs for the celestial virtue or      
power1 which produces1  from the power  
of the seed1 the ,soul in life2 which1  
as soon as  produced1 receives from the 
power of the ,mover of the ,heaven the  
passive intellect or mind1 which        

potentially brings together in itself   
all the universal forms according as    
they are in its producer1 and so  much  
the less in proportion as it is farther 
removed from the first  ,intelligence4  
,let no one marvel if ,i speak what     
seems difficult to understand2 for  to  
myself it seems a miracle how it is     
possible even to arrive at a  conclusion
 concerning it1 and to perceive it with 
the intellect4 ,it is  not a thing to   
reveal in language1 especially the      
language of the  ,vulgar ,tongue2       
wherefore ,i will say1 even as did the  
,apostle3 ,oh1  great is the depth of   
the riches of ,wisdom of ,god3 how      
incomprehensible  are ,thy judgments1   
and ,thy ways past finding out6 ,and    
since the  complex nature of the seed   
may be better and less good1 and the    
disposition of the receiver of the seed 
may be better and less good1  and the   
disposition of the dominant ,heaven to  
this effect may be good  and better and 
best1 which varies in the               

constellations1 which are  continually  
transformed2 it befalls that from the   
human seed and from  these virtues or   
powers the ,soul is produced more or    
less pure2 and  according to its purity 
there descends into it the virtue or    
power of  the possible or passive       
intellect1 as it is called1 and as it   
has been  spoken of4 ,and if it happen  
that through the purity of the receptive
  ,soul the intellectual power is indeed
 separate and absolute1 free from  all  
corporeal shadow1 the ,divine ,goodness 
multiplies in it1 as in a  thing        
sufficient to receive that good gift2   
and then it multiplies in  the ,soul of 
this intelligent being1 according as it 
can receive it2  and this is that seed  
of ,happiness of which we speak at      
present4 ,and  this is in harmony with  
the opinion of ,tullius in that book on 
,old ,age  when1 speaking personally of 
,cato1 he says3 ,for this reason a      
celestial spirit descended into us from 
the highest habitation1 having  come    

into a place which is adverse to the    
,divine ,nature and to  ,eternity4 ,and 
in such a ,soul as this there is its own
 individual  power1 and the intellectual
 power1 and the ,divine power2 that is  
to  say1 that influence which has been  
mentioned4 ,therefore it is written  in 
the book ,on ,causes3 ,each ,noble ,soul
 has three operations1 that is  to say1 
the animal1 the intellectual1 and the   
,divine4 ,and there are  some men who   
hold such opinions that they say1 if all
 the preceding  powers were to unite in 
the production of a ,soul in their best 
disposition1 arrangement1 order1 that   
into that ,soul would descend so  much  
of the ,deity that it would be as it    
were another ,god ,incarnate2  and this 
is almost all that it is possible to say
 concerning the  ,natural way4    ,by   
the ,theological way it is possible to  
say that1 when the ,supreme  ,deity1    
that is1 ,god1 sees ,his creature       
prepared to receive ,his good  gift1 so 
freely ,he imparts it to ,his creature  

in proportion as it is  prepared or     
qualified to receive it4 ,and because   
these gifts proceed  from ineffable     
,love1 and the ,divine ,love is         
appropriate to the ,holy  ,spirit1      
therefore it is that they are called the
 gifts of the ,holy  ,spirit1 which1    
even as the ,prophet ,isaiah            
distinguishes them1 are  seven1 namely1 
,wisdom1 ,intelligence1 ,counsel1       
,courage1 ,knowledge1  ,pity1 and the   
,fear of ,god4 ,o1 good green blades1   
and good and  wonderful the seed6       
,and ,o1 admirable and benign ,sower of 
the seed1 who dost only wait for  human 
nature to prepare the ground for ,thee  
wherein to sow6 ,o1 blessed  are those  
who till the land to fit it to receive  
such seed6    ,here it is to be known   
that the first noble shoot which        
germinates  from this seed that it may  
be fruitful1 is the desire or appetite  
of  the mind1 which in ,greek is called 
hormen2 and if this is not well         
cultivated and held upright by good     

habits1 the seed is of little  worth1   
and it would be better if it had not    
been sown4    ,and therefore ,st4       
,augustine urges1 and ,aristotle also in
 the second  book of ,ethics1 that man  
should accustom himself to do good1 and 
to  bridle in his passions1 in order    
that this shoot which has been          
mentioned may grow strong through good  
habits1 and be confirmed in its         
uprightness1 so that it may fructify1   
and from its fruit may issue the        
sweetness of ,human ,happiness4         
,,chapter ,,xxii4      ,it is the       
commandment of the ,moral ,philosophers 
that1 of the good  gifts whereof they   
have spoken1 ,man ought to put his      
thought and his  anxious care into the  
effort to make them as useful as        
possible to the  receiver4 ,wherefore   
,i1 wishing to be obedient to such a    
mandate1  intend to render this my      
,,banquet ,convito as useful as possible
 in  each one of its parts4 ,and because
 in this part it occurs to me to be     

able to reason somewhat concerning the  
sweetness of ,human ,happiness1 ,i      
consider that there could not be a more 
useful discourse1 especially  to those  
who know it not2 for as the ,philosopher
 says in the first  book of ,ethics1 and
 ,tullius in that book ,of the ,ends of 
,good and ,evil1  he shoots badly at the
 mark who sees it not4 ,even thus a man 
can but  ill advance towards this sweet 
joy who does not begin with a           
perception of it4 ,wherefore1 since it  
is our final rest for which we  live and
 labour as we can1 most useful and most 
necessary it is to see  this mark in    
order to aim at it the bow of this our  
work4 ,and it is  most essential to make
 it inviting to those who do not see the
 mark  when simply pointed out4 ,leaving
 alone1 then1 the opinion which         
,epicurus the philosopher had concerning
 it1 and that which ,zeno  likewise had1
 ,i intend to come summarily to the true
 opinion of  ,aristotle and of the other
 ,peripatetics4 ,as it is said above1 of

 the  ,divine ,goodness sown and infused
 in us1 from the original cause of our  
production1 there springs up a shoot1   
which the ,greeks term hormen1  that is 
to say1 the natural appetite of the     
soul4    ,and as it is with the blades  
of corn which1 when they first shoot    
forth1 have in the beginning one similar
 appearance1 being in the  grass-like   
stage1 and then1 by process of time1    
they become unlike1 so  this ,natural   
appetite1 which springs from the ,divine
 ,grace1 in the  beginning appears as it
 were not unlike that which comes       
nakedly from  ,nature2 but with it1 even
 as the herbage born of various grains  
of  corn1 it has the same appearance1 as
 it were3 and not only in the  blades of
 corn1 but in men and in beasts there is
 the same similitude4  ,and it appears  
that every animal1 as soon as it is     
born1 both rational  and brute beast1   
loves itself1 and fears and flies from  
those things  which are adverse to it1  
and hates them1 then proceeding as has  

been  said4 ,and there begins a         
difference between them in the progress 
of  this ,natural appetite1 for the one 
keeps to one road1 and the other to     
another2 even as the ,apostle says3     
,many run to the goal1 but there is  but
 one who reaches it4 ,even thus these   
,human appetites from the  beginning run
 through different paths1 and there is  
one path alone  which leads us to our   
peace2 and therefore1 leaving all the   
others  alone1 it is for the treatise to
 follow the course of that one who      
begins well4    ,i say1 then1 that from 
the beginning a man loves himself1      
although  indistinctly2 then comes the  
distinguishing of those things which to 
him are more or less2 to be more or less
 loved or hated2 and he  follows after  
and flies from either more or less      
according as the  right habit           
distinguishes1 not only in the other    
things which he loves  in a secondary   
manner1 for he even distinguishes in    
himself which  thing he loves           

principally2 and perceiving in himself  
divers parts1  those which are the      
noblest in him he loves most4 ,but1     
since the  noblest part of man is the   
,mind1 he loves that more than the      
,body2 and  thus1 loving himself        
principally1 and through himself other  
things1  and of himself loving the      
better part most1 it is evident that he 
loves the ,mind more than the ,body or  
any other thing2 and the ,mind it  is   
that1 naturally1 more than any other    
thing he ought to love4    ,then1 if the
 ,mind always delights in the use of the
 beloved thing1  which is the fruit of  
love1 the use of that thing which is    
especially  beloved is especially       
delightful3 the use of our ,mind is     
especially  delightful to us1 and that  
which is especially delightful to us    
becomes our ,happiness and our          
,beatitude1 beyond which there is no    
greater delight or pleasure1 nor any    
equal to it1 as may be seen by  him who 
looks well at the preceding argument4   

,and no one ought to say that every     
appetite is ,mind2 for here one         
understands ,mind solely as that which  
belongs to the ,rational part1  that is1
 the ,will and the ,intellect2 so that  
if any one should wish to  call ,mind   
the appetite of the ,senses1 here it has
 no place1 nor can it  have any abiding2
 for no one doubts that the ,rational   
appetite is more  noble than the        
,sensual1 and therefore more to be      
loved2 and so is this  of which we are  
now speaking4    ,the use of our ,mind  
is double1 that is to say1 ,practical   
and  ,speculative 7it is ,practical     
insomuch as it has the power of acting72
  both the one and the other are        
delightful in their use1 but that of    
,contemplation is the most pleasing1 as 
has been said above4 ,the use of  the   
,practical is to act in or through us   
virtuously1 that is to say1  honestly or
 uprightly1 with ,prudence1 with        
,temperance1 with ,courage1  and with   
,justice4 ,the use of the ,speculative  

is not to work or act  through us1 but  
to consider the works of ,god and of    
,nature4 ,this and  the other form our  
,beatitude and ,supreme ,happiness1     
which is the  sweetness of the          
before-mentioned seed1 as now clearly   
appears4 ,to  this often such seed does 
not attain1 through being ill           
cultivated1 or  through its tender      
growing shoots being perverted4 ,in like
 manner it  is quite possible1 by much  
correction and cultivation of him into  
whom  this seed does not fall primarily1
 to induce it by the process of  steady 
endeavour after goodness1 so that it may
 attain to the power of  bearing this   
fruit4 ,and it is1 as it were1 a method 
of grafting the  nature of another upon 
a different stock4    ,no man1          
therefore1 can hold himself excused2 for
 if from his natural  root the man does 
not produce sweet fruit1 it is possible 
for him to  have it by the process of   
grafting2 and in fact there would be as 
many  who should be grafted as those are

 who1 sprung from a good root1 allow    
themselves to grow degenerate4    ,of   
the two ways of goodness1 one is more   
full of bliss than the other1  as is the
 ,speculative1 which is the use of our  
noblest part without  any alloy1 and    
which1 for the root1 ,love1 as has been 
said1 is  especially to be loved as the 
intellect4 ,and in this life it is not  
possible to have the use of this part   
perfectly1 which is to see ,god1  who is
 the ,supreme ,being to be comprehended 
by the ,mind1 except  inasmuch as the   
intellect considers ,him and beholds    
,him through ,his  effects1 ,his ,works4
 ,and that we may seek this ,beatitude  
as the  supreme1 and not the other1 that
 is1 that of the ,active ,life1 the     
,gospel of ,st4 ,mark teaches us1 if we 
will look at it well4    ,mark says that
 ,mary ,magdalene1 and ,mary the mother 
of ,james1 and ,mary  ,salome went to   
find the ,saviour in the ,tomb1 and they
 found ,him not1  but they found a youth
 clothed in white1 who said to them3    

,you seek  the ,saviour1 and ,i tell you
 that ,he is not here2 and therefore be 
not  affrighted1 but go and tell ,his   
disciples and ,peter that ,he goeth     
before you into ,galilee2 and there ye  
shall see ,him1 as ,he said unto  you4  
,by these three women may be understood 
the three sects of the  ,active ,life1  
that is to say1 the ,epicureans1 the    
,stoics1 and the  ,peripatetics1 who go 
to the ,tomb1 that is to say1 to the    
present  ,world1 which is the receptacle
 of corruptible things1 and seek for the
  ,saviour1 that is1 ,beatitude1 and    
they find it not2 but they find a  youth
 in white garments1 who1 according to   
the testimony of ,matthew1  and also of 
the other ,evangelists1 was an ,angel of
 ,god4 ,and therefore  ,matthew said3   
,the ,angel of the ,lord descended from 
,heaven1 and came  and rolled back the  
stone from the door1 and sat upon it4   
,his  countenance was like lightning1   
and his raiment white as snow4 ,the     
,angel is this ,nobility of ours which  

comes from ,god1 as it has been  said1  
of which our argument speaks1 and says  
to each one of these  sects1 that is1 to
 whoever seeks perfect ,happiness in the
 ,active ,life1  that it is not here2   
but go and tell the disciples and       
,peter1 that is1  tell those who seek   
for it and those who are gone astray    
like ,peter1  who had denied ,him1 that 
,he will go before them into ,galilee2  
meaning  that the ,beatitude or         
,happiness will go before us into       
,galilee1 that  is1 into ,contemplation2
 ,galilee is as much as to say1         
,whiteness4  ,whiteness is a colour full
 of material light1 more so than any    
other2  and thus1 ,contemplation is more
 full of ,spiritual light than any other
  thing which is below4    ,and it says1
 ,he will go before you1 but it does not
 say1 ,he will be  with you1 to make us 
understand that in our contemplation    
,god always  goes before4 ,nor is it    
ever possible to us to attain to ,him   
here1 to  ,him1 our ,supreme ,bliss4    

,and it says1 ,there shall ye see ,him1 
as ,he  said unto you2 that is to say1  
there you will receive of ,his          
,sweetness1 that is1 of the ,happiness  
as it is promised to you here1 as  it is
 established that you may receive it4   
,and thus it appears that our           
,beatitude1 this ,happiness of which we 
speak1 first we are able to find        
imperfect in the ,active ,life1 that    
is1 in the operations of the ,moral     
,virtues1 and then almost perfect in    
the operations of the ,intellectual     
,virtues2 which two operations are      
speedy and most direct ways to lead to  
the ,supreme ,bliss1 which it is  not   
possible to have here below1 even as    
appears by that which has  been said4   
,,chapter ,,xxiii4      ,since the      
definition of ,nobility is sufficiently 
demonstrated1 and  since in all its     
parts it has been made as explicit as   
possible1 so  that we can now see who is
 the ,nobleman1 it seems right to       
proceed to  the part of the text which  

begins1 ,souls whom this ,grace adorns1 
in  whom appear the signs by which it is
 possible to know the ,noble ,man4      
,this part is divided into two4 ,in the 
first it affirms that this  ,nobility is
 resplendent1 and that it shines forth  
manifestly during  the whole life of the
 ,noble ,man2 in the second it appears  
specifically  in its glory1 and this    
second part begins1 ,in ,childhood they 
obey4  ,with regard to the first part1  
it is to be known that this ,divine     
seed1 which has been previously spoken  
of1 germinates immediately in  our      
,soul1 combining with and changing its  
form with each form of the  ,soul1      
according to the exigency of that power4
 ,it germinates1 then1 as  the          
,vegetative1 as the ,sensitive1 and as  
the ,rational1 and it branches  out     
through the virtues or powers of all of 
them1 guiding all those to  their       
perfection1 and sustaining itself in    
them always1 even to the  point when1   
with that part of our ,soul which never 

dies1 it returns to  the highest and the
 most glorious ,sower of the seed in    
,heaven2 and it  expresses this in that 
first part which has been mentioned4    
,then when  it says1 ,in ,childhood they
 obey1 ,are gentle1 modest1 it shows how
 we  can recognize the ,noble ,man by   
the apparent signs1 which are the       
,divine operation of this goodness4 ,and
 this part is divided into four1  as it 
is made to represent four different     
ages1 such as ,adolescence1  ,youth1    
,old ,age1 and ,extreme ,old ,age4 ,the 
second part begins1 ,are  temperate in  
,youth2 the third begins1 ,are prudent  
in their ,age2 the  fourth begins1 ,the 
fourth part of their life4 ,herein is   
contained  the purpose of this part in  
general1 with regard to which it is     
desirable to know that each effect1     
inasmuch as it is an effect1  receives  
the likeness of its cause in proportion 
as it is capable of  retaining it4      
,wherefore1 since our life1 as has been 
said1 and also the life of  every living

 creature here below1 is caused by      
,heaven1 ,heaven is  revealed in all    
such effects as these1 not1 indeed1 with
 the complete  circle1 but with part of 
it1 in them4 ,thus its movement must be 
not  only with them1 but beyond them1   
and as one arch of life retains 7and  ,i
 say retains1 not only of men1 but also 
of other living creatures7  almost all  
the lives1 ascending and descending1    
they must be1 as it  were1 similar in   
appearance to the form of the arch4     
,returning1 then1  to our course of life
 which at present we are seeking to     
understand1 ,i  say that it proceeds    
after the manner of this arch1 ascending
 and  descending4 ,and it is to be known
 that the ascent of this arch should  be
 equal to its descent1 if the material  
of the seed from which we  spring1 so   
complex in its nature1 did not impede   
the law of ,human  ,nature4 ,but since  
the humid root is of better quality more
 or less1  and stronger to endure in one
 effect more than in another1 being     

subject to the nutriment of the heat1   
which is our life1 it happens  that the 
arch of the life of one man is of less  
or of greater extent  than that of      
another1 life being shortened by a      
violent death or by  some accidental    
injury2 but that which is called natural
 by the people  is that span of which it
 is said by the ,psalmist1 ,thou settest
 up a  boundary which it is not possible
 to pass4 ,and since the ,master among  
those here living1 ,aristotle1 had      
perception of this arch of which we  now
 speak1 and seems to be of opinion that 
our life should be no other  than one   
ascent and one descent1 therefore he    
says1 in that chapter  where he treats  
of ,youth and of ,old ,age1 that ,youth 
is no other than  an increase of life4  
,where the top of this arch may be1 it  
is  difficult to know1 on account of the
 inequality which has been spoken  of   
above1 but for the most part ,i believe 
between the thirtieth and  the fortieth 
year1 and ,i believe that in the        

perfectly natural man it  is at the     
thirty-fifth year4 ,and this reason has 
weight with me3 that  our ,saviour      
,jesus ,christ was a perfect natural    
man1 who chose to die  in the           
thirty-fourth year of ,his age2 for it  
was not suitable for the  ,deity to have
 place in the descending segment2       
neither is it to be  believed that ,he  
would not wish to dwell in this life of 
ours even to  the summit of it1 since   
,he had been in the lower part even from
  childhood4 ,and the hour of the day of
 ,his death makes this evident1  for ,he
 willed that to conform with ,his life2 
wherefore ,luke says that  it was about 
the sixth hour when ,he died1 that is to
 say1 the height  or supreme point of   
the day2 wherefore it is possible to    
comprehend by  that1 as it were1 that at
 the thirty-fifth year of ,christ was   
the  height or supreme point of ,his    
age4 ,truly this arch is not half       
distinguished in the ,scriptures1 but if
 we follow the four connecting  links of

 the differing qualities which are in   
our composition1 to each  one of which  
appears to be appropriated one part of  
our age1 it is  divided into four parts1
 and they are called the four ages4 ,the
 first  is ,adolescence1 which is       
appropriated to the hot and moist2 the  
second  is ,youth1 which is appropriated
 to the hot and dry2 the third is ,old  
,age1 which is appropriated to the cold 
and dry2 the fourth is ,extreme  ,old   
,age1 which is appropriated to the cold 
and moist1 as ,albertus  ,magnus writes 
in the fourth chapter of the ,metaura4  
,and these parts or  divisions are made 
in a similar manner in the year--in     
,spring1 in  ,summer1 in ,autumn1 and in
 ,winter4 ,and it is the same in the day
 even  to the third hour1 and then even 
to the ninth1 leaving the sixth in  the 
middle of this part1 or division1 for   
the reason which is  understood1 and    
then even to vespers1 and from vespers  
onwards4 ,and  therefore the ,gentiles  
said that the chariot of the ,sun had   

four  horses2 they called the first     
,eoo1 the second ,piroi1 the third      
,eton1  the fourth ,phlegon1 even as    
,ovid writes in the second book of the  
,metamorphoses concerning the parts or  
divisions of the day4    ,and1 briefly1 
it is to be known that1 as it has been  
said above in the  sixth chapter of the 
third treatise1 the ,church makes use of
 the hours  temporal in the division of 
the day1 which hours are twelve in each 
day1 long or short according to the     
amount of sunlight2 and because  the    
sixth hour1 that is1 the midday1 is the 
most noble of the whole  day1 and has in
 it the most virtue1 the ,offices of the
 ,church are  approximated thereto in   
each side1 that is1 from the prime1 and 
thence  onwards as much as possible2 and
 therefore the ,office of prime1 that   
is1 the tertius1 is said at the end of  
that part1 and that of the  third part  
and of the fourth is said at the        
beginning2 and therefore1  before the   
clock strikes in a division of the day1 

it is termed  half-third or mid-tertius2
 or mid-nones1 when in that division the
  clock has struck1 and thus            
mid-vespers4    ,and1 therefore1 let    
each one know that the right and lawful 
nones  ought always to strike or sound  
at the beginning of the seventh hour  of
 the day1 and let this suffice to the   
present digression4          ,,chapter  
,,xxiv4      ,returning to the          
proposition1 ,i say that ,human ,life is
 divided into  four ages or stages4 ,the
 first is called ,adolescence1 that is1 
the  growth or increase of life2 the    
second is called ,youth1 that is1 the   
age which can give perfection1 and for  
this reason one understands  this ,youth
 to be perfect1 because no man can give 
except of that which  he has2 the third 
is called ,old ,age2 the fourth is      
called ,senility1  ,extreme ,old ,age1  
as has been said above4    ,of the first
 no one doubts1 but each wise man agrees
 that it lasts  even to the twenty-fifth
 year2 and up to that time our ,soul    

waits for  the increase and the         
embellishment of the body4 ,while there 
are many  and very great changes in the 
person1 the rational part cannot possess
  perfectly the power of discretion2    
wherefore1 the ,civil ,law wills  that1 
previous to that age1 a man cannot do   
certain things without a  guardian of   
perfect age4    ,of the second1 which is
 the height of our life1 the time is    
variously  taken by many4 ,but leaving  
that which philosophers and medical men 
write concerning it1 and returning to   
the proper argument1 we may say  that1  
in most men in whom one can and ought to
 be guided by natural  judgment1 that   
age lasts for twenty years4 ,and the    
reason which leads  me to this          
conclusion is1 that the height or       
supreme point of our arc  or bow is in  
the thirty-fifth year2 just so much as  
this age has of  ascent1 so much it     
ought to have of descent2 and this      
ascent passes  into descent1 as it were1
 at the point1 the centre1 where one    

would  hold the bow in the hand1 at     
which place a slight flexion may be     
discerned4 ,we are of opinion1 then1    
that ,youth is completed in the         
forty-fifth year4    ,and as            
,adolescence is in the twenty-five years
 which proceed mounting  upwards to     
,youth3 so the descent1 that is1 ,old   
,age1 is an equal amount  of time which 
succeeds to ,youth2 and thus ,old ,age  
terminates in the  seventieth year4     
,but because ,adolescence does not begin
 at the beginning of  life--taking it in
 the way which has been said--but about 
eight months  from birth2 and because   
our life strives to ascend1 and curbs   
itself  in the descent2 because the     
natural heat is lessened and can do     
little1 and the moist humour is         
increased1 not in quantity1 but in      
quality1 so that it is less able to     
evaporate and be consumed2 it  happens  
that beyond ,old ,age there remains of  
our life an amount1  perhaps1 of about  
ten years1 a little more or a little    

less2 and this  time of life is termed  
,extreme ,old ,age1 or ,senility4       
,wherefore we know  of ,plato 7of whom  
one may well say that he was a son of   
,nature1 both  because of his perfection
 and because of his countenance1 which  
caused  ,socrates to love him when first
 he saw him71 that he lived eighty and  
one years1 according to the testimony of
 ,tullius in that book ,on ,old  ,age4  
,and ,i believe that if ,christ had not 
been crucified1 and if ,he  might have  
lived the length of time which ,his life
 according to nature  could have passed 
over1 at eighty and one years ,he would 
have been  transformed from the mortal  
body into the eternal4    ,truly1 as has
 been said above1 these ages may be     
longer or shorter  according to our     
complexion or temper and our            
constitution or  composition2 but1 as   
they are1 it seems to me that ,i observe
 this  proportion in all men1 as has    
been said1 that is to say1 that in such 
men the ages may be made longer or      

shorter according to the integrity  of  
the whole term of the natural life4     
,throughout all these ages this         
,nobility of which we speak manifests   
its effects in different ways in the    
ennobled ,soul2 and it is that  which   
this part of the ,song1 concerning which
 we write at present1  intends to       
demonstrate4 ,where it is to be known   
that our good and  upright nature makes 
forward progress in us in the reasoning 
powers1  as we see the nature of the    
plants make forward progress2 and       
therefore it is that different manners  
and different deportment are to  be held
 reasonable at one age rather than at   
another4 ,the ennobled  ,soul proceeds  
in due order along a single path1       
employing each of its  powers in its    
time and season1 or even as they are all
 ordained to the  final production of   
the perfect fruit4 ,and ,tullius is in  
harmony with  this in his book ,on ,old 
,age4 ,and putting aside the figurative 
sense  which ,virgil holds in the neid  

concerning this different progress of   
the ages1 and letting that be which     
,egidius the hermit mentions in the     
first part ,on the ,government of       
,princes1 and letting that be to which  
,tullius alludes in his book ,of        
,offices1 and following that alone which
  ,reason can see of herself1 ,i say    
that this first age is the door and  the
 path through which and along which we  
enter into our good life1  ,and this    
entrance must of necessity have certain 
things which the good  ,nature1 which   
fails not in things necessary1 gives to 
us2 as we see  that she gives to the    
vine the leaves for the protection of   
the fruit1  and the little tendrils     
which enable it to twine round its      
supports1  and thus bind up its         
weakness1 so that it can sustain the    
weight of  its fruit4 ,beneficent       
,nature gives1 then1 to this age four   
things  necessary to the entrance into  
the ,city of the ,good ,life4 ,the first
 is  ,obedience1 the second ,suavity1   

the third ,modesty1 the fourth ,beauty  
of  the ,body1 even as the ,song says in
 the first section of this part4 ,it    
is1 then1 to be known that like one who 
has never been in a city1 who  would not
 know how to find his way about the     
streets without  instruction from one   
who is accustomed to them1 even so the  
adolescent  who enters into the ,wood of
 ,error of this life would not know how 
to  keep to the good path if it were not
 pointed out to him by his elders4      
,neither would the instruction avail if 
he were not obedient to their  commands1
 and therefore at this age obedience is 
necessary4 ,here it  might be possible  
for some one to speak thus3 ,then1 is   
that man to be  called obedient who     
shall follow evil guidance as well as he
 who shall  believe the good8 ,i reply  
that this would not be obedience1 but   
transgression4 ,for if the ,king should 
issue a command in one way and  the     
servant give forth the command in       
another1 it would not be right  to obey 

the servant1 for that would be to       
disobey the ,king2 and thus  it would be
 transgression4 ,and therefore ,solomon 
says1 when he intends  to correct his   
son1 and this is his first commandment3 
,listen1 my  son1 to the instruction of 
thy father4 ,and then he seeks to remove
  him immediately from the counsel and  
teaching of the wicked man1  saying1 ,my
 son1 if sinners entice thee1 consent   
thou not4    ,wherefore1 as soon as he  
is born1 the son clings to the breast of
 the  mother2 even so soon as some light
 of the ,mind appears in him1 he  ought 
to turn to the correction of the father1
 and the father to  instruction4 ,and   
let the father take heed that he himself
 does not set  him an example in work or
 action that is contrary to the words of
 the  correction2 for naturally we see  
each son look more to the footprints  of
 the paternal feet than to those of     
other men4 ,and therefore the  ,law1    
which provides for this1 says and       
commands that the life of the  father   

should appear to his sons always        
honourable and upright4 ,thus  it       
appears that obedience was necessary in 
this age2 and therefore  ,solomon writes
 in the ,book of ,proverbs1 that he who 
humbly and  obediently sustains his just
 reproofs from the corrector shall be   
glorious4 ,and he says shall be1 to     
cause men to understand that he  speaks 
to the adolescent1 who cannot be so in  
his present age4 ,and if  any one should
 reflect on me because ,i have said     
obedience is due to  the father and not 
to other men1 ,i say that to the father 
all other  obedience ought to be        
referred2 wherefore the ,apostle says to
 the  ,colossians3 ,sons1 obey your     
fathers in all things1 for such is the  
will of ,god4 ,and if the father be not 
in this life1 the son ought to  refer to
 that which is said by the father in his
 last ,will as a  father2 and if the    
father die intestate1 the son ought to  
refer to him  to whom the ,law commits  
his authority2 and then ought the       

masters and  elders to be obeyed1 for   
this appears to be a reasonable charge  
laid  upon the son by the father1 or by 
him who stands in the father's  place4  
,but because this present chapter has   
been long1 on account of the  useful    
digressions which it contains1 in       
another chapter other things  shall be  
discussed4          ,,chapter ,,xxv4    
,not only this ,soul1 naturally good in 
,adolescence1 is obedient1 but  also    
gentle2 which is the other thing        
necessary in this age to make a  good   
entrance through the portal of ,youth4  
,it is necessary1 since we cannot have a
 perfect life without friends1  as      
,aristotle expresses it in the eighth   
book of ,ethics2 and the seed  of the   
greater number of friendships seems to  
be sown in the first age  of life1      
because in it a man begins to be        
gracious or the contrary4  ,such        
graciousness is acquired by gentle rules
 of conduct1 as are sweet  and courteous
 speech1 gentle service courteously     

rendered1 and actions  kindly done or   
performed4 ,and therefore ,solomon says 
to the adolescent  son3 ,surely ,god    
scorneth the scorners2 but ,he giveth   
grace unto the  lowly4 ,and elsewhere he
 says3 ,put away from thee a forward    
mouth1  and perverse lips put far from  
thee4 ,wherefore it appears that1 as    
has been said1 this suavity or          
affability is necessary4    ,likewise to
 this age the passion of modesty is     
necessary2 and  therefore the nature    
which is good and noble shows it in this
 age1  even as the ,song says4 ,and     
since modesty is the clearest sign1 in  
,adolescence1 of ,nobility1 because     
there it is especially necessary to  the
 good foundation of our life1 at which  
the noble nature aims1 it is  right to  
speak of it somewhat4 ,by modesty ,i    
mean three passions or  strong feelings 
necessary to the foundation of our good 
life3 the one  is wonder1 the next is   
modesty1 the third is shame1 although   
the  common people do not discern this  

distinction4 ,and all three of these    
are necessary to this life1 for this    
reason3 at this age it is  requisite to 
be reverent and desirous for knowledge2 
at this age it is  necessary or         
requisite to be self-controlled1 so as  
not to transgress  or pass beyond due   
bounds2 at this age it is necessary to  
be penitent  for a fault1 so as not to  
grow accustomed to doing wrong4 ,and all
  these things the aforesaid passions or
 strong feelings do1 which  vulgarly are
 called shame2 for wonder is an         
amazement of the mind at  beholding     
great and wonderful things1 at hearing  
them1 or feeling them  in some way or   
other2 for1 inasmuch as they appear     
great1 they excite  reverence in him who
 sees them2 inasmuch as they appear     
wonderful1  they make him who perceives 
them desirous of knowledge concerning   
them4 ,and therefore the ancient ,kings 
in their palaces or habitations  set up 
magnificent works in gold and in marble 
and works of art1 in  order that those  

who should see them should become       
astonished1 and  therefore reverent     
inquirers into the honourable conditions
 of the  ,king4 ,therefore ,statius1 the
 sweet ,poet1 in the first part of the  
,theban ,history1 says that1 when       
,adrastus1 ,king of the ,argives1 saw   
,polynices covered with the skin of a   
lion1 and saw ,tydeus covered with  the 
hide of a wild boar1 and recalled to    
mind the reply that ,apollo  had given  
concerning his daughters1 he became     
amazed1 and therefore  more reverent and
 more desirous for knowledge4 ,modesty  
is a shrinking1  a drawing-back of the  
mind from unseemly things1 with the fear
 of  falling into them2 even as we see  
in virgins and in good women1 and in    
adolescent or young men1 who are so     
modest that not only when they are      
tempted to do wrong1 and urged to do so1
 but even when some fancied  joy flashes
 across the mind1 the feeling is        
depicted in the face1  which either     
grows pale with fear1 or flushes        

rosy-red4 ,wherefore the                
before-mentioned poet1 in the first book
 of the ,thebaid already  quoted1 says  
that when ,acesta the nurse of ,argia   
and ,deiphile1 the  daughters of ,king  
,adrastus1 led them before the eyes of  
their holy  father into the presence of 
the two pilgrims1 that is to say1       
,polynices and ,tydeus1 the virgins grew
 pale and blushed rosy-red1 and  their  
eyes shunned the glance of any other    
person1 and they kept them  fixed on the
 paternal face alone1 as if there were  
safety4 ,this  modesty--how many errors 
does it bridle in1 or repress8 ,on how  
many  immodest questions and impure     
things does it impose silence6 ,how much
  dishonest greed does it repress6 ,in  
the chaste woman1 against how many  evil
 temptations does it rouse mistrust1 not
 only in her1 but also in  him who      
watches over her6 ,how many unseemly    
words does it restrain6  for1 as        
,tullius says in the first chapter of   
the ,offices3 ,no action  is unseemly   

which is not unseemly in the naming4    
,and furthermore1 the  ,modest and      
,noble ,man never could speak in such a 
manner that to a  woman his words would 
not be decent and such as she could     
hear4 ,alas1  how great is the evil in  
every man who seeks for honour1 to      
mention  things which would be deemed   
evil in the mouth of any woman6         
,shame is a fear of dishonour through   
fault committed1 and from this  fear    
there springs up a penitence for the    
fault1 which has in itself a  bitter    
sorrow or grief1 which is a chastisement
 and preservative  against future       
wrong-doing4 ,wherefore this same poet  
says1 in that  same part1 that when     
,polynices was questioned by ,king      
,adrastus  concerning his life1 he      
hesitated at first through shame to     
speak of  the crime which he had        
committed against his father1 and also  
for the  sins of ,oedipus1 his father1  
which appeared to remain in the shame of
  the son2 therefore he named not his   

father1 but his ancestors1 and his      
country1 and his mother2 and therefore  
it does indeed appear that  shame is    
necessary to that age4 ,and the noble   
nature reveals in this  age1 not only   
obedience1 gentleness1 affability1 and  
modesty1 but it  shows beauty and       
agility of body1 even as the ,song      
expresses3 ,to  furnish ,virtue's person
 with ,the graces it may need4 ,here it 
is to be  known that this work of       
beneficent ,nature is also necessary to 
our  good life1 for our ,soul must work 
in the greater part of all its          
operations with a bodily organ2 and then
 it works well when the body  through   
all its parts is well proportioned and  
appointed4 ,and when it  is well        
proportioned and appointed1 then it is  
beautiful throughout  and in all its    
parts2 for the due ordering or          
proportion of our limbs  produces a     
pleasing impression of ,i know not what 
of wonderful  harmony2 and the good     
disposition1 that is to say1 the health 

of mind  and body1 throws over all a    
colouring sweet to behold4 ,and thus to 
say  that the noble nature takes heed   
for the graces of the body1 and makes   
it fair and harmonious1 is tantamount to
 saying that it prepares it  and renders
 it fit to attain the perfection        
ordained for it3 and those  other things
 which have been discussed seem to be   
requisite to  ,adolescence1 which the   
noble ,mind1 that is to say1 the noble  
,nature1  furnishes forth to it in the  
first years of life1 as growth of the   
seed sown therein by the ,divine        
,providence4          ,,chapter ,,xxvi4 
,since the first section of this part1  
which shows how we can recognize  the   
,noble ,man by apparent signs1 is       
reasoned out1 it is right to  proceed to
 the second section1 which begins3 ,are 
temperate in ,youth1  ,and resolutely   
strong4    ,it says1 then1 that as the  
noble ,nature in ,adolescence or the    
,spring-time of ,youth appears obedient1
 gentle1 and modest1 the  beautifier of 

its person1 so in ,youth it is          
temperate1 strong1 and  loving1         
courteous and loyal2 which five things  
appear to be1 and are1  necessary to our
 perfection1 inasmuch as we have respect
 unto  ourselves4 ,and with regard to   
this it is desirable to know that just  
as the noble ,nature prepares in the    
first age1 it is prepared and  ordained 
by the care or foresight of ,universal  
,nature1 which ordains  and appoints the
 particular ,nature where-ever existing1
 to attain its  perfection4    ,this    
perfection of ours may be considered in 
a double sense4 ,it is  possible to     
consider it as it has respect to        
ourselves1 and we ought  to possess this
 in our ,youth1 which is the culminating
 point of our  life4 ,it is possible to 
consider it as it has respect to others1
 and  since in the first place it is    
necessary to be perfect1 and then to    
communicate the perfection to others1 it
 is requisite to possess this  secondary
 perfection after this age1 that is to  

say1 in ,old ,age1 as  will be said     
subsequently4 ,here1 then1 it is needful
 to recall to mind  that which was      
argued in the twenty-second chapter of  
this treatise  concerning the appetite  
or impulse which is born in us4 ,this   
appetite  or impulse never does aught   
else but to pursue and to flee1 and     
whenever it pursues that which is to be 
pursued1 and as far as is  right1 and   
flies from that which is to be fled     
from1 and as much as is  right1 then is 
the man within the limits of his        
perfection4 ,truly1  this appetite or   
natural impulse must have ,reason for   
its rider2 for  as a horse at liberty1  
however noble it may be by nature1 by   
itself  without the good rider does not 
conduct itself well1 even thus this     
appetite1 however noble it may be1 must 
obey ,reason1 which guides it  with the 
bridle and spur1 as the good knight uses
 the bridle when he  hunts4 ,and that   
bridle is termed ,temperance1 which     
marks the limit up  to which it is      

lawful to pursue2 he uses the spur in   
flight to turn  the horse away from the 
place from which he would flee away2 and
 this  spur is called ,courage1 or      
rather ,magnanimity1 a ,virtue that     
points  out the place at which it is    
right to stop1 and to resist evil even  
to  mortal combat4 ,and thus ,virgil1   
our greatest ,poet1 represents neas as  
under the influence of powerful self    
control in that part of the neid        
wherein this age is typified1 which part
 comprehends the fourth and  the fifth  
and the sixth books of the neid4 ,and   
what self-restraint  was that when1     
having received from ,dido so much      
pleasure1 as will be  spoken of in the  
seventh treatise1 and enjoying so much  
delectation  with her1 he departed1 in  
order to follow the upright and         
praiseworthy  path fruitful of good     
works1 even as it is written in the     
fourth book  of the neid6 ,what impetus 
was that when neas had the fortitude    
alone  with ,sybilla to enter into      

,hades1 to search for the ,soul of his  
father  ,anchises1 in the face of so    
many dangers1 as it is shown in the     
sixth  book of the neid4 ,wherefore it  
appears that in our ,youth1 in order to 
be in our perfection1 we must be        
,temperate and ,brave4 ,the good        
disposition secures this for us1 even as
 the ,song expressly states4    ,again1 
at this age it is necessary to its      
perfection to be ,loving2  because at   
this age it is requisite to look behind 
and before1 as  being midway over the   
arch4 ,the youth ought to love his      
elders1 from  whom he has received his  
being1 and his nutriment1 and his       
instruction1 so that he may not appear  
ungrateful4 ,he ought to love  his      
juniors1 since1 in loving them1 he gives
 them of his good gifts1  for which in  
after-years1 when the younger friends   
are prospering1 he  may be supported and
 honoured by them4 ,and the poet named  
above1 in  the fifth book               
before-mentioned1 makes it evident that 

neas possessed  this loving disposition1
 when he left the aged ,trojans in      
,sicily1  recommended to ,acestes1 and  
set them free from the fatigues of the  
voyage2 and when he instructed1 in the  
same place1 ,ascanius his son1  with the
 other young men1 in jousting or in     
feats of arms2 wherefore  it appears    
that to this age ,love is necessary1    
even as the ,song says4    ,again1 to   
this age ,courtesy is necessary1 for1   
although to every age  it is right or   
beautiful to be possessed of courteous  
manners1 to this  age it is especially  
necessary1 because1 on the contrary1    
,old ,age1  with its gravity and its    
severity1 cannot possess courtesy1 if it
 has  been wanting in this youthful     
period of life2 and with ,extreme ,old  
,age  it is the same in a greater       
degree4 ,and that most noble poet1 in   
the  sixth book before-mentioned1 proves
 that neas possessed this  courtesy1    
when he says that neas1 then ,king1 in  
order to pay honour  to the dead body of

 ,misenus1 who had been the trumpeter of
 ,hector1 and  afterwards accompanied   
neas1 made himself ready and took the   
axe to  assist in cutting the logs for  
the fire which must burn the dead body1 
as was their custom4 ,wherefore this    
courtesy does indeed appear to be       
necessary to ,youth2 and therefore the  
noble ,soul reveals it in that  age1 as 
has been said4    ,again1 it is         
necessary to this age to be ,loyal4     
,loyalty is to follow  and to put in    
operation that which the ,laws command1 
and this  especially is necessary in the
 young man2 because the adolescent1 as  
it has been said1 on account of his     
minority1 merits ready pardon2 the  old 
man1 on account of greater experience1  
ought to be just1 but not a  follower of
 the ,law except inasmuch as his upright
 judgment and the  ,law are at one as it
 were2 and almost without any ,law he   
ought to be  able to follow the dictates
 of his own just mind4 ,the young man is
 not  able to do this1 and it is        

sufficient that he should obey the ,law1
 and  take delight in that obedience2   
even as the before-said poet says1 in   
the fifth book previously mentioned1    
that neas did when he instituted  the   
games in ,sicily on the anniversary of  
his father's death1 for what  he        
promised for the victories he loyally   
gave to each victor1  according to their
 ancient custom1 which was their ,law4  
,wherefore1 it is evident that1 to this 
age1 ,loyalty1 ,courtesy1 ,love1        
,courage1 and ,temperance are necessary1
 even as the ,song says1 which at       
present ,i have reasoned out2 and       
therefore the noble ,soul reveals them  
all4          ,,chapter ,,xxvii4        
,that section which the text puts       
forward having been reasoned out and    
made sufficiently clear1 showing the    
qualities of uprightness which  the     
noble ,soul puts into ,youth1 we go on  
to pay attention to the third  part1    
which begins1 ,are prudent in their     
,age1 in which the ,song  intends to    

show those qualities which the noble    
,nature reveals and  ought to possess in
 the third age1 that is to say1 ,old    
,age4 ,and it  says that the noble ,soul
 in ,old ,age is prudent1 is just1 is   
liberal  and cheerful1 willing to speak 
kindly and for the good of others1 and  
ready to listen for the same reason1    
that is to say1 that it is  affable4    
,and truly these four ,virtues are most 
suitable to this age4  ,and1 in order to
 perceive this1 it is to be known that1 
as ,tullius  says in his book ,on ,old  
,age1 ,our life has a certain course1   
and one  simple path1 that of natural   
moral goodness2 and to each part of our 
age there is given a season for certain 
things4 ,wherefore1 as to  ,adolescence 
is given1 as has been said above1 that  
by means of which  it may attain        
perfection and maturity1 so to youth is 
given perfection  and maturity in order 
that the sweetness of its perfect fruit 
may be  profitable to the man himself   
and to others2 for1 as ,aristotle says1 

man is a civil or polite animal1 because
 it is required of him to be  useful1   
not only to himself1 but to others as   
well4 ,wherefore one  reads of ,cato1   
that he believed himself to be born not 
only to  himself1 but to his country and
 to all the world4 ,then after our own  
perfection1 which is acquired in ,youth1
 there must follow that which  may give 
light not only to one's self1 but to    
others as well2 and a  man ought to open
 and broaden like a rose as it were1    
which can no  longer remain closed1 and 
spread abroad the sweet odour which is  
bred  within2 and this ought to be the  
case in that third age which we have    
now in hand4    ,then it must be        
,prudent1 that is to say1 ,wise4 ,and1  
in order to be  this1 a good memory of  
the things which have been seen is      
requisite1  and a good knowledge of     
present things1 and good foresight for  
things  of the future4 ,and1 as the     
,philosopher says in the sixth book of  
,ethics1 it is impossible for the man   

who is not good to be wise2 and         
therefore he is not to be called a wise 
man who acts with cunning and  with     
deception1 but he is to be called an    
astute man4 ,as no one would  call him a
 wise man who might indeed know how to  
draw with the point  of a knife in the  
pupil of the eye1 even so he is not to  
be called a  wise man who knows how to  
do a bad thing well1 in the doing of    
which  he must always first injure some 
other person4 ,if we consider well1     
good counsel springs from ,prudence1    
which leads or guides a man1 and  other 
men1 to a good end in human affairs4    
,and this is that gift which  ,solomon1 
perceiving himself to be placed as ruler
 over the people1  asked of ,god1 even  
as it is written in the ,third ,book of 
,kings2 nor  does the prudent man wait  
for counsel to be asked of him2 but of  
himself1 foreseeing the need for it1    
unasked he gives counsel or  advice2    
like the rose1 which not only to him who
 goes to her for her  sweet odour freely

 gives it1 but also to any one who      
passes near4    ,here it would be       
possible for any doctor or lawyer to    
say3 ,then shall  ,i carry my counsel or
 advice1 and shall ,i give it even      
before it be  asked of me1 and shall ,i 
not reap fruit from my art or skill8 ,i 
reply  in the words of our ,saviour3    
,freely ye have received1 freely give4  
,i  say1 then1 ,master ,lawyer1 that    
those counsels which have no respect to 
thine art1 and which proceed alone from 
that good sense or wisdom  which ,god   
gave thee 7which is the prudence of     
which we speak71 thou  oughtest not to  
sell to the sons or children of ,him who
 has given it  to thee4 ,but those      
counsels which belong to the art which  
thou hast  purchased1 thou mayst sell2  
but not in such a way but that at any   
time  the tenth part of them may be     
fitly set apart and given unto ,god1    
that  is1 to those unhappy ones to whom 
the ,divine protection is all that is   
left4    ,likewise at this age it is    

right to be ,just1 in order that the    
judgments and the authority of the man  
may be a light and a law to  other men4 
,and because this particular ,virtue1   
that is to say1  ,justice1 was seen by  
the ancient philosophers to appear      
perfect in men  of this age1 they       
entrusted the government of the cities  
to those men  who had attained that age2
 and therefore the college of ,rectors  
was  called the ,senate4 ,oh1 my        
unhappy1 unhappy country6 how my heart  
is  wrung with pity for thee whenever ,i
 read1 whenever ,i write1 anything      
which may have reference to ,civil      
,government6 ,but since in the last     
treatise of this book ,justice will be  
discussed1 to the present let  this     
slight notice of it suffice4    ,also at
 this age a man ought to be liberal1    
because a thing is then  most suitable  
when it gives most satisfaction to the  
due requirements  of its nature3 nor to 
the due requirements of ,liberality is  
it ever  possible to give more          

satisfaction than at this age4 ,for if  
we will  look well at the argument of   
,aristotle in the fourth book of        
,ethics1  and at that of ,tullius in his
 book ,of ,offices1 ,liberality desires 
to  be seasonable in place and time2 so 
that the liberal man may not  injure    
himself nor other men2 which thing it is
 not possible to have  without ,prudence
 and without ,justice1 ,virtues that    
previous to this  age it is impossible  
to have or possess in perfection in the 
,natural  way4    ,alas6 ye base-born   
ones1 born under evil stars1 ye who rob 
the widows  and orphans1 who ravish or  
despoil those who possess least1 who    
steal  from and occupy or usurp the     
homes of other men1 and with that spoil 
you furnish forth feasts1 women1 horses1
 arms1 robes1 money2 you wear  wonderful
 garments1 you build marvellous palaces2
 and you believe that  you do deeds of  
great liberality3 and this is no other  
than to take  the cloth from the altar  
and to cover therewith the thief and his

  table6 ,not otherwise one ought to    
laugh1 ,o tyrants1 at your bounteous    
liberality than at the thief who should 
lead the invited guests into  his house 
to his feast1 and place upon his table  
the cloth stolen from  the altar1 with  
the ecclesiastical signs inwoven1 and   
should not  believe that other men might
 perceive the sacrilege4 ,hear1 ,o ye   
obstinate men1 what ,tullius says       
against you in the book ,of ,offices3   
,certainly there are many1 desirous of  
being great and glorious1 who  rob some 
that they may give to others1 believing 
themselves to be  esteemed good men if  
they enrich their friends with what the 
,law  allows4 ,but this is so opposite  
or contrary to that which ought to be   
done1 that nothing is more wrong4    ,at
 this age also a man ought to be        
,affable1 to speak for the good of      
others1 and to listen to such speech    
willingly1 since it is good for a  man  
to discourse kindly at an age when he is
 listened to4 ,and this age  also has   

with it a shadow of authority1 for which
 reason it appears  that the aged man is
 more likely to be listened to than a   
person in a  younger period of life4    
,and of most good and beautiful ,truths 
it seems  that a man ought to have      
knowledge after the long experience of  
life4  ,wherefore ,tullius says1 in that
 book ,on ,old ,age1 in the person of   
,cato  the elder3 ,to me is increased   
the desire and the delight to remain in 
conversation longer than ,i am wont4    
,and that all four of these things  are 
right and proper to this age1 ,ovid     
teaches1 in the seventh chapter  of     
,metamorphoses1 in that fable where he  
writes how ,cephalus of ,athens  came to
 acus the ,king for help in the war     
which ,athens had with the  ,cretans4   
,he shows that acus1 an old man1 was    
prudent when1 having1  through          
pestilence caused by corruption of the  
air1 lost almost all  his people1 he    
wisely had recourse to ,god1 and        
besought of ,him the  restoration of the

 dead2 and for his wisdom1 which in     
patience  possessed him and caused him  
to turn to ,god1 his people were        
restored  to him in greater number than 
before4 ,he shows that he was just1 when
  he says that acus was the divider and 
the distributor of his deserted  land to
 his new people4 ,he shows that acus was
 generous or liberal  when he said to   
,cephalus1 after his request for aid3 ,o
 ,athens6 ask me  not to render         
assistance1 but take it yourself2 doubt 
not the strength  of the forces which   
this island possesses1 nor the power of 
my state  and realm2 troops are not     
wanting to us1 nay1 we have them in     
excess  for offence and defence2 it is  
indeed a happy time to give you aid1    
and without excuse4    ,alas1 how many  
things are to be observed in this reply6
 but to a good1  intelligent man it is  
sufficient for it to be placed here1    
even as  ,ovid puts it4 ,he shows that  
acus was affable when he described1 in a
  long speech to ,cephalus1 the history 

of the pestilence which destroyed  his  
people1 and the restoration of the same1
 which he tells readily4    ,it is clear
 enough1 then1 that to this age four    
things are suitable1  because the noble 
,nature reveals them in it1 even as the 
,song says4  ,and that the example given
 may be the more memorable1 acus says   
that  he was the father of ,telamon and 
,peleus and of ,phocus1 from which      
,telamon sprang ,ajax and from ,peleus  
,achilles4          ,,chapter ,,xxviii4 
,following the section which has been   
discussed1 we have now to proceed  to   
the last1 that is1 to that which begins1
 ,the fourth part of their  life ,weds  
them again to ,god1 by which the text   
intends to show what  the noble ,soul   
does in the last age1 that is1 in       
,extreme ,old ,age1 that  is1 ,senility4
 ,and it says that it does two things3  
the one1 that it  returns to ,god as to 
that port or haven whence it departed   
when it  issued forth to enter into the 
sea of this life2 the other is1 that it 

blesses the voyage which it has made1   
because it has been upright1  straight1 
and good1 and without the bitterness of 
storm and tempest4    ,and here it is to
 be known that1 even as ,tullius says in
 that book ,on  ,old ,age1 the natural  
death is1 as it were1 a port or haven to
 us after  our long voyage and a place  
of rest4 ,and the ,virtuous ,man who    
dies  thus is like the good mariner2    
for1 as he approaches the port or       
haven1 he strikes his sails1 and gently1
 with feeble steering1 enters  port4    
,even thus we ought to strike the sails 
of our worldly affairs1  and turn to    
,god with all our heart and mind1 so    
that one may come into  that haven with 
all sweetness and all peace4    ,and in 
this we have from our own proper nature 
great instruction in  gentleness1 for in
 such a death as this there is no pain  
nor  bitterness1 but even as a ripe     
apple easily and without violence       
detaches itself from its branch1 so our 
,soul without grief separates  itself   

from the body wherein it has dwelt4     
,aristotle1 in his book ,on ,youth and  
,old ,age1 says that the death which    
overtakes us in old age is without      
sadness4 ,and as to him who comes  from 
a long journey1 before he enters into   
the gate of his city1 the  citizens     
thereof go forth to meet him1 so do     
those citizens of the  ,eternal ,life go
 forth to meet the noble ,soul2 and they
 do thus because  of his good works and 
acts of contemplation1 which were of old
  rendered unto ,god and withdrawn from 
worldly affairs and thoughts4  ,hear    
what ,tullius says in the person of     
,cato the elder3 ,it seems to  me that  
already ,i see1 and ,i uplift myself in 
the greatest desire to  see1 your       
fathers1 whom ,i loved1 and not only    
those whom ,i knew  myself1 but also    
those of whom ,i have heard spoken4 ,in 
this age1  then1 the noble ,soul renders
 itself unto ,god1 and awaits the end of
  this life with much desire2 and to    
itself it seems that it goes out  from  

the ,inn to return home to the ,father's
 mansion2 to itself it  seems to have   
reached the end of a long journey and to
 have reached  the ,city2 to itself it  
seems to have crossed the wide sea and  
returned  into the port4 ,o1 miserable  
men and vile1 who run into this port    
with  sails unfurled2 and there where   
you should find rest1 are broken by  the
 fury of the wind and wrecked in the    
harbour4 ,truly the ,knight  ,lancelot  
chose not to enter it with sails        
unfurled1 nor our most noble  ,italian  
,guido da ,montefeltro4 ,these noble    
,spirits indeed furled the  sails after 
the voyage of this ,world1 whose cares  
were rendered to  ,religion in their    
long old age1 when they had laid down   
each earthly  joy and labour4 ,and it is
 not possible to excuse any man because 
of  the bond of matrimony1 which may    
hold him in his old age1 from turning   
to ,religion1 even as he who adopts the 
habit of ,st4 ,benedict and ,st4        
,augustine and ,st4 ,francis and ,st4   

,dominic and the like mode of life1  but
 also it is possible to turn to a good  
and true ,religion whilst  remaining in 
the bonds of matrimony1 for ,god asks of
 us no more than  the religious heart4  
,and therefore ,st4 ,paul says to the   
,romans3 ,for  he is not a ,jew which is
 one outwardly2 neither is that         
circumcision  which is outward in the   
flesh4 ,but he is a ,jew which is one   
inwardly2  and circumcision is that of  
the heart1 in the spirit1 and not in the
  letter2 whose praise is not of men1   
but of ,god4    ,and the ,noble ,soul in
 this age blesses likewise the time that
 is past1  and it may well bless it2    
because when ,memory turns back to them1
 the  ,noble ,soul remembers her upright
 deeds1 without which it were not       
possible for her to come to the port    
whither she is hastening with  such     
wealth nor with such gain4 ,and the     
,noble ,soul does like the good         
merchant1 who1 when he draws near to his
 port1 examines his cargo1 and  says3   

,if ,i had not passed along such a      
highway as that1 ,i should not  possess 
this treasure1 and ,i should not have   
wherewith to rejoice in  my city1 to    
which ,i am approaching2 and therefore  
he blesses the  voyage he has made4     
,and that these two things are suitable 
to this age that great poet  ,lucan     
represents to us in the second book of  
his ,pharsalia1 when he  says that      
,marcia returned to ,cato1 and entreated
 him that he would  take her back in his
 fourth and ,extreme ,old ,age1 by which
 ,marcia the  ,noble ,soul is meant1 and
 we can thus depict the symbol of it in 
all  ,truth4 ,marcia was a virgin1 and  
in that state typifies ,adolescence2    
she then espoused ,cato1 and in that    
state typifies ,youth2 she then  bore   
sons1 by whom are typified the ,virtues 
which are becoming to  young men1 as    
previously described2 and she departed  
from ,cato and  espoused ,hortensius1 by
 which it is typified that she quitted  
,youth  and came to ,old ,age4 ,she bore

 sons to this man also1 by whom are     
typified the ,virtues which befit ,old  
,age1 as previously said4  ,hortensius  
died1 by which is typified the end of   
,old ,age1 and ,marcia1  made a widow1  
by which widowhood is typified ,extreme 
,old ,age1 returned  in the early days  
of her widowhood to ,cato1 whereby is   
typified the  ,noble ,soul turning to   
,god in the beginning of ,extreme ,old  
,age4 ,and  what earthly man was more   
worthy to typify ,god than ,cato8 ,none1
 of a  certainty4 ,and what does ,marcia
 say to ,cato8 ,whilst there was blood  
in me that is to say1 ,youth1 whilst the
 maternal power was in me  that is1     
,age1 which is indeed the ,mother of all
 other ,virtues or  ,powers1 as has been
 previously shown or proved1 ,i1 says   
,marcia1  fulfilled all thy commandments
 that is to say1 that the ,soul stood   
firm in obedience to the ,civil ,laws4  
,she says3 ,and ,i took two  husbands1  
that is to say1 ,i have been in two     
fruitful periods of  life4 ,now1 says   

,marcia1 that ,i am weary1 and that ,i  
am void and  empty1 ,i return to thee1  
being no longer able to give happiness  
to the  other husband2 that is to say1  
that the ,noble ,soul1 knowing well that
  it has no longer the power to produce1
 that is1 feeling all its  members to   
have grown feeble1 turns to ,god1 that  
is1 to ,him who has no  need of members 
of the body4 ,and ,marcia says1 ,give me
 the ancient  covenanted privileges of  
the beds2 give me the name alone of the 
,marriage ,tie2 that is to say1 the     
,noble ,soul says to ,god1 ,o my ,lord1 
give me now repose and rest2 the ,soul  
says1 ,give me at least  whatsoever ,i  
may have called ,thine in a life so     
long4 ,and ,marcia  says1 ,two reasons  
move or urge me to say this2 the one is1
 that they  may say of me1 after ,i am  
dead1 that ,i was the wife of ,cato2 the
 other  is1 that it may be said after me
 that thou didst not drive me away1  but
 didst espouse me heartily4 ,by these   
two causes the ,noble ,soul is  stirred 

and desires to depart from this life as 
the spouse of ,god1 and  wishes to show 
that ,god was gracious to the creature  
that ,he made4 ,o  unhappy and baseborn 
men6 you who prefer to depart from this 
life  under the name of ,hortensius     
rather than of ,cato6    ,from ,cato's  
name a grace comes into the close of the
 discourse which  it was fit to make    
touching the signs of ,nobility2 because
 in him  ,nobility reveals them all1    
through all the ages of his life4       
,,chapter ,,xxix4      ,since the ,song 
has demonstrated those signs which in   
each age or  period of life appear in   
the ,noble ,man1 and by which it is     
possible to  know him1 and without which
 he cannot be1 even as the ,sun cannot  
be  without light or the fire without   
heat1 the text cries aloud to the       
,people in the concluding part of this  
treatise on ,nobility1 and it  says3    
,how many are deceived6 ,they are       
deceived who1 because they are  of      
ancient and famous lineage1 and because 

they are descended of  excellent and    
,noble fathers1 believe themselves to be
 ,noble1 yet have  in themselves no     
,nobility4 ,and here arise two          
questions1 to which it  is right to     
attend at the end of this treatise4 ,it 
would be possible  for ,manfredi da     
,vico1 who but now is called ,praetor   
and ,prefect1 to  say3 ,whatever ,i may 
be1 ,i recall to mind and ,i represent  
my elders1  who deserved the ,office of 
,prefecture because of their ,nobility1 
and  they merited the honour of         
investiture at the coronation of the    
,emperor1 and they merited the honour of
 receiving the ,rose of ,gold  from the 
,roman ,pontiff3 ,i ought to receive    
from the ,people honour and  reverence4 
,and this is one question4 ,the other   
is1 that it would be  possible for the  
scions of the families of ,san ,nazzaro 
di ,pavia and of  the ,piscitelli of    
,naples to say3 ,if ,nobility is that   
which has been  described1 that is1 that
 it is ,divine seed graciously cast into

 the  human ,soul1 and the progeny1 or  
offshoots1 have1 as is evident1 no      
,soul1 it would not be possible to term 
any of its progeny or offshoots  ,noble2
 but this is opposed to the opinion of  
those who assert that our  race is the  
most ,noble in these cities4    ,to the 
first question ,juvenal replies in the  
eighth ,satire1 when he  begins with    
exclaiming1 as it were3 ,what is the use
 of all these  honours and of this glory
 which remain from the past1 except that
 they  serve as a mantle or cloak to him
 who may wish to cover himself with     
them1 badly as he may live2 except for  
him who talks of his ancestors1  and    
points out their great and wonderful    
works1 giving his own mind to  miserable
 and vile actions8 ,and this satirical  
poet asks3 ,who will  call that man     
,noble1 because of his good race1 who is
 not worthy of  his race8 ,it is no     
other than to call the ,dwarf a ,giant4 
,then  afterwards he says to such an one
 as this3 ,between thee and the  statue 

erected in memory of thine ancestor     
there is no other  dissimilarity except 
that its head is of marble and thine is 
alive4  ,and in this 7with reverence ,i 
say it7 ,i disagree with the poet1 for  
the statue of marble or of wood or of   
metal1 which has remained in  memory of 
some worthy brave man1 differs much in  
effect from the  wicked descendant3     
because the statue always confirms a    
good opinion  in those who have heard of
 the good renown or fame of him whose   
statue  it is1 and it begets good       
opinion in others4 ,but the wicked son  
or  nephew does quite the contrary3 he  
weakens the good opinion of those  who  
have heard of the goodness of his       
ancestors4 ,for some one says to        
himself in his thought3 ,it cannot      
possibly be true1 all this that has     
been said about this man's ancestors1   
since from their seed one sees  an      
offshoot such as that4 ,wherefore he    
ought to receive not honour1  but       
dishonour1 who bears false or evil      

witness against the good4 ,and          
therefore ,tullius says that the son of 
the brave man ought to strive  to bear  
good witness to the father4 ,wherefore1 
in my judgment1 even as  he who defames 
an excellent man deserves to be shunned 
by all people  and not listened to1 even
 so the vile man descended from good    
ancestors deserves to be banned by all2 
and the good man ought to  close his    
eyes in order not to see that infamous  
man casting infamy  upon the goodness   
which remains in ,memory alone4 ,and let
 this suffice  at present to the first  
question that was moved4    ,to the     
second question it is possible to reply 
that a race of itself  has no ,soul2 and
 indeed it is true that it is called    
,noble1 but it is  in a certain way4    
,wherefore it is to be known that every 
whole is  composed of its parts1 and    
there is a certain whole which has a    
simple  essence in its parts1 as in one 
man there is one essence in all and in  
each individual part2 and this which is 

said to be in the part is said  in the  
same way to be in the whole4 ,there is  
another whole which has  not a common   
essential form or essence with the      
parts1 as a heap of  corn2 but there is 
a secondary essence which results from  
many grains1  which possess in          
themselves a true and primary essence4  
,and in such a  whole as this they are  
said to be the qualities of the parts in
 a  secondary way2 wherefore it is      
called a white heap1 because the grains 
whereof the heap is made are white4     
,truly this white appearance is  more in
 the grains in the first place1 and in  
the second place it  results in the     
whole heap1 and thus secondarily it is  
possible to call  it white2 and in such 
a way it is possible to call a race     
,noble4  ,wherefore it is to be known1  
that as in order to make a white heap   
the  white grains must be most numerous1
 so to make a ,noble race the ,noble    
,men must be more numerous than the     
others1 so that their goodness1  with   

its good fame or renown1 may cover the  
opposite quality which is  within4 ,and 
as from a white heap of corn it would be
 possible to pick  up the wheat grain by
 grain1 and substitute1 grain by grain1 
red  maize1 till1 finally1 the whole    
heap or mass would change colour1 so    
would it be possible for the good men of
 the ,noble race to die out one  by one1
 and the wicked ones to spring up       
therein1 who would so change  the name  
or fame thereof1 that it would have to  
be called1 not ,noble1  but vile1 or    
base4    ,and let this be a sufficient  
answer to the second question4          
,,chapter ,,xxx4      ,as it has been   
shown previously in the third chapter of
 this treatise1  this ,song has three   
principal parts1 whereof two have been  
reasoned or  argued out1 the first of   
which begins in the aforesaid chapter1  
and  the second in the sixteenth 7so    
that the first through thirteen1 and    
the second through fourteen chapters1   
passes on to an end1 without  counting  

the ,proem of the treatise on the ,song1
 which is comprised in  two chapters71  
in this thirtieth and last chapter we   
must briefly  discuss the third         
principal part1 which was made as a     
refrain and as a  species of ornament   
for this ,song2 and it begins3 ,my      
,song1 ,against  the strayers4    ,here 
it is chiefly to be known that every    
good workman1 at the end of  his work1  
ought to ennoble and embellish it as    
much as possible1 that  it may leave his
 hands so much the more precious1 and   
more worthy of  fame4 ,and this ,i      
endeavour to do in this part1 not as a  
good workman1  but as the follower of   
one4    ,i say1 then1 ,my ,song1        
,against the strayers4 ,against the     
strayers  is a phrase1 as1 for example1 
from the good friar1 ,thomas of         
,aquinas1  who1 to a book of his1 which 
he wrote to the confusion of all those  
who go astray from our ,faith1 gave the 
title ,contra ,gentili1 ,against  the   
,heathen4 ,i say1 then1 that thou shalt 

go1 which is as much as to  say3 ,thou  
art now perfect1 and it is now time1 not
 to stand still1  but to go forward1 for
 thy enterprise is great4 ,and 'when you
 reach  ,our ,lady1 hide not from her   
that your end ,is labour that would     
lessen  wrong4' ,where it is to be      
observed that1 as our ,lord says1 ,we   
ought  not to cast pearls before swine1 
because it is not to their  advantage1  
and it is injury to the pearls2 and1 as 
,aesop the poet says  in the first      
fable1 a little grain of corn is of far 
more worth to a  cock than a pearl1 and 
therefore he leaves the pearl and picks 
up the  grain of corn3 reflecting on    
this1 as a caution1 ,i speak and give   
command to the ,song that it reveal its 
high office where this ,lady1  that is1 
where ,philosophy1 will be found4 ,and  
that most noble ,lady  will be found    
when her dwelling-place is found1 that  
is1 the ,soul in  which she finds her   
,inn4 ,and this ,philosophy dwells not  
in wise men  alone1 but likewise1 as is 

proved above in another treatise1       
wherever  the love for her inhabits1 she
 is there4 ,and to such as these1 ,i say
  to the ,song1 thou mayst reveal thine 
office1 because to them the  purpose    
thereof will be useful1 and by them its 
thoughts will be  gathered in4    ,and  
,i bid it say to this ,lady1 ,i travel  
ever talking of your ,friend4           
,nobility is her ,friend4 ,for so much  
does the one love the other1 that       
,nobility always seeks her1 and         
,philosophy does not turn aside her most
  sweet glance to any other4    ,o1 what
 a great and beautiful ornament is this 
which is given to her  in the last part 
of this ,song1 by giving to her the     
title of ,friend1  the ,friend of her   
whose own abode is in the most secret   
depths of the  ,divine ,mind4           
99       99       99       99       99  
,,note    ,,on ,,the ,,date ,,of ,,the  
,,convito      ,it is natural to suppose
 that ,dante's death at ,ravenna in     
#acba caused  the ,convito1 a work of   

his latter years1 to be left unfinished4
 ,but  there are arguments that have    
been especially dwelt upon by writers   
who regard the ,convito as a work begun 
before the conception of the  ,divine   
,comedy1 and dropped when the ,poet's   
mind became intent upon  that           
masterpiece4    ,one argument is that   
the ,divine ,comedy is nowhere mentioned
 or alluded  to in the ,convito4 ,but as
 the place designed for the ,convito is 
midway  between the ,vita ,nuova1 which 
preceded it1 and the ,divine ,comedy1   
which was to follow1 references to the  
poem which was not yet before  the      
reader would have been a fault in art4  
,another argument is drawn from the     
fourteenth chapter of the ,second       
,treatise1 where 7on page #hd in this   
volume7 the shadow in the ,moon is      
ascribed to the rarity of its body1 in  
which the rays of the ,sun can  find no 
end wherefrom to strike back again as in
 the other parts4 ,in  the second canto 
of the ,purgatorio1 ,beatrice opposes   

that opinion1  whence it may be inferred
 that ,dante had learnt better1 and he  
speaks  of this again in a later canto  
7the twenty-second7 as a former         
opinion4 ,this leads to an inference    
that the ,second ,treatise was  written 
before #acjj4    ,attention is due also 
to a passage in the third chapter of the
 ,first  ,treatise 7on pages #af and #ag
 in this volume71 in which ,dante speaks
 of  his long exile and poverty4 ,the   
exile and the wanderings of ,dante      
began after the year #acjj4 ,he was     
befriended by ,guido da ,polenta in     
,ravenna1 by ,uguccione della ,faggiola 
in ,lucca1 by ,malaspina in the         
,lunigiana1 by ,can ,grande della ,scala
 in ,verona1 by ,bosone de'  ,raffaelli 
in ,gubbio1 by the ,patriarch ,pagano   
della ,torre in ,udine4 ,in  #acaa1 when
 the ,emperor ,henry of ,luxembourg went
 to ,italy1 ,dante had  some hope of    
return1 which passed away in #acac when 
that ,emperor died  in ,buonconvento4   
,dante remained in exile4 ,in #acba his 

patron1 ,guido  ,novello da ,polenta1   
sent him on an embassy to ,venice1 in   
which he was  unsuccessful4 ,the sea way
 being blocked1 he had to return by     
land1 and  he was struck by the malaria 
which caused his death by fever on the  
#adth of ,september in that year1 #acba4
 ,this reference to long exile  leads to
 an inference that the ,first ,treatise 
was written much later  than #acjj4     
,but1 again1 there is a passage in the  
third chapter of the ,fourth  ,treatise 
7on page #aga of this volume7 that      
points to an earlier date4  ,frederick  
of ,suabia is named as the ,emperor who 
held1        ,as far as he could see1   
,descent of wealth1 and generous ways1  
,to make ,nobility4    ,dante calls him 
the last ,emperor of the ,romans1 and   
adds1 ,i say  last with respect to the  
present time1 notwithstanding that      
,rudolf1  and ,adolphus1 and ,albert    
were elected after his death and from   
his  descendants4 ,this last of the     
,romans was that famous ,frederick      

,,ii41  who died in #abej1 and of whom  
,dante said in his ,treatise on the     
,language of the ,people3 ,the          
illustrious heroes1 ,frederick ,caesar  
and  his son ,manfredi1 followed after  
elegance and scorned what was mean2  so 
that all the best compositions of the   
time came out of their ,court4  ,thus1  
because their royal throne was in       
,sicily1 all the poems of our           
predecessors in the ,vulgar ,tongue were
 called ,sicilian4 ,rudolf ,i4 of       
,hapsburg1 founder of the ,imperial     
,house of ,austria1 was elected         
,emperor in #abgc1 after a time of      
confusion and nominal rule4 ,he died  in
 #abia1 and1 instead of his son ,albert1
 ,adolphus of ,nassau was next  elected 
,emperor4 ,but in ,june #abih ,albert   
obtained election2 ,adolphus  was       
deposed1 and was soon afterwards killed 
in battle with his rival4  ,albert was  
murdered on the #fth of ,may1 #acjh1    
and1 after an interregnum  of seven     
months1 he was succeeded by ,henry      

,,vii4 of ,luxembourg4 ,now1  ,dante's  
list does not go on from ,albert to     
,henry4 ,it is assumed1  therefore1 that
 this passage must have been written    
before the end of  the year #acjh4      
,there is another passage at the close  
of chapter vi4 of the ,fourth  ,treatise
 7on page #ahf in this volume7 that     
points to a like inference  of date4    
,dante writes3 ,ye enemies of ,god1 look
 to your flanks1 ye who  have seized the
 sceptres of the kingdoms of ,italy4    
,and ,i say to you1  ,charles1 and to   
you1 ,frederick1 ,kings1 and to you1 ye 
other ,princes  and ,tyrants1 see who   
sits by the side of you in council4 ,the
 ,charles  and ,frederick here addressed
 were ,charles ,,ii4 of ,anjou1 ,king of
  ,naples1 and ,frederick of ,aragon1   
,king of ,sicily2 and ,king ,charles    
died  in the year #acaj4    ,it has been
 inferred1 therefore1 that the four     
treatises of the  ,convito were not     
written consecutively4 ,the ,second     
,treatise may have  been begun some time

 after the death of ,beatrice1 in #abij1
 time being  allowed after #abij for the
 completion of the ,vita ,nuova and a   
period  of devotion to philosophic      
studies4 ,that ,second ,treatise having 
been  first written1 the ,treatise on   
,nobility1 the ,fourth1 may have next   
followed2 and this may have been written
 before the end of the year  #abih4 ,the
 ,third ,treatise may have been written 
later1 and made to  connect the ,second 
and the ,fourth4 ,the ,first ,treatise1 
or ,general  ,introduction1 which has in
 it clear indication of a later date1   
may  have been written last1 when the   
whole design was brought into shape4    
,various reasons have been used for     
dating this final arrangement of  the   
plan for an ,ethical survey of human    
knowledge in fifteen  treatises1 and the
 suggested date is the year #acad4 ,the 
whole work  seems to have been planned4 
,besides the references to the          
,fifteenth  ,treatise1 there is a glance
 forward to the matter of the ,seventh  

,treatise in the twenty-sixth chapter of
 the ,fourth4    ,the question of date  
is not of great importance1 and this may
 console  us though we know that it can 
never be settled4 ,here it is only      
touched upon to show the significance of
 one or two historical  allusions in the
 book4