d, Dante sees,
among others, Semiramis, Dido, Cleopatra, Helen, Achilles, Paris. The
poet's attention is suddenly attracted by two spirits, who prove to be
Francesca da Rimini and her lover, Paolo, murdered by her husband when
Dante was twenty-four years old. The scandal of their illicit love and
the penalty they paid by their lives must have been so generally known
that Dante, though attached to her family by the memory of hospitality
received from her nephew, Guido Novello da Polenta, the lord of Ravenna,
is dominated by the necessity of declaring in Francesca and Paolo the
operation of the unalterable law which rules the terrible consequences
of crime unforgiven by Heaven. Was it gratitude for kindness extended to
him, an exile, by the Lord of Ravenna, or was it the memory of
association with the brother of Francesca, at the battle of Campaldino,
that led our poet to treat the whole episode of the fatal liaison with
such tender sympathy for the unfortunate lady that he hoped to
rehabilitate her memory? In any event, the poet represents himself as
gracious and benign when addressing Francesca, and she, moved by his
friendly attitude, tells the story of her intrigue, in lines justly
regarded as the most beautiful ever written in verse. The reader will
not fail to observe that the fatal denouement is only hinted, not
told--the line, "that day we read no more," making what is admitted to
be the finest ellipsis in all the literature of the world.

"Then turning, I to them, my speech address'd
And thus began: 'Francesca! Your sad fate
Even to tears my grief and pity moves.
But tell me, in the time of your sweet sighs,
By what and how Love granted that ye knew
Your yet uncertain wishes.' She replied:
'No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy, when misery is at hand. Yet so eagerly
If thou art bent to know the primal root
From whence our love gat being, I will do
As one who weeps and tells his tale. One day
For our delight, we read of Lancelot,
How him love thrall'd. Alone we were, and no
Suspicion near us. Oft times by that reading
Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue
Fled from our alter'd cheek. But at one point
Alone we fell. When of that smile, we read,
The wish'd smile so rapturously kiss'd
By one so deep in love, then he who ne'er
From me shall separate, at once my lips
All trembling kiss'd. The book and writer both
Were love's purveyors. In its leaves that d