s of eight syllables, is given a full and complete
translation of what in Italian takes up seventeen. English the most
simple, direct, idiomatic, is needed in order that a translation of
Dante be faithful to his simplicity and naturalness; and this is the
first fidelity his translator should feel himself bound to. Owing to
the fundamental difference between the syllabic structures of
the two languages, we are enabled to put into English lines of eight
syllables the whole meaning of Dante's lines of eleven. In the above
experiment even more has been done. The twenty-eight lines of Dante
are given in twenty-six lines of eight syllables each, and this
without any sacrifice of the thought or feeling; for the "this thy
teacher knows," which is omitted, besides that the commentators cannot
agree on its meaning, is parenthetical in sense, and with reverence be
it said, in so far a defect in such a relation. As to the form of
Dante, what is essential in that has been preserved, namely, the
iambic measure and the rhyme.

Let us try if this curtailment of syllables will be successful when
applied to the terrible words, written in blackest color, over the
gate of Hell, at the beginning of the third canto of the "Inferno":--

Through me the path to place of wail:
Through me the path to endless sigh:
Through me the path to souls in bale.
'Twas Justice moved my Maker high:
Wisdom supreme, and Might divine,
And primal Love established me.
Created birth was none ere mine,
And I endure eternally:
Ye who pass in, all hope resign.

Has anything been lost in the transit from Italian words to English?
English speech being organically more concentrated than Italian, does
not the reduction of eleven syllables to eight especially subserve
what ought to be the twofold aim of all poetic translation, namely,
along with fidelity to the thought and spirit of the original,
fidelity to the idiom, and cast and play of the translator's own
tongue?

Here is another short passage in a different key,--the opening of the
last canto of the "Paradiso":--

Maid-mother, daughter of thy Son,
Meek, yet above all things create,
Fair aim of the Eternal one,
'Tis thou who so our human state
Ennobledst, that its Maker deigned
Himself his creature's son to be.
This flower, in th' endless peace, was gained
Through kindling of God's love in thee.

In this passage nine Italian lines of eleven syllables ar