Dante's Dream

From Vita Nova

It was exactly the ninth hour of that day when her intoxicatingly lovely greeting came to me. And since it was the first time her words had reached my ears, I felt such bliss that I withdrew from people as if I were drunk, away to the solitude of my room, and settled down to think about this most graceful of women. And thinking about her, a sweet sleep came over me, in which appeared a tremendous vision.

I seemed to see a fiery cloud in my room, inside which I discerned a figure of a lordly man, frightening to behold. And it was marvelous how utterly full of joy he seemed. And among the words that he spoke, I understood only a few, including: “Ego dominus tuus.”§ In his arms I thought I saw a sleeping person, naked but for a crimson silken cloth that seemed to be draped about her, who, when I looked closely, I realized was the lady of the saving gesture, she who earlier that day had deigned to salute me. And in one of his hands it seemed that he held something consumed by flame, and I thought I heard him say these words: “Vide cor tuum.”¶ And when he had been there a while, it seemed that he awakened the sleeping lady, and he was doing all he could to get her to eat the thing burning in his hands, which she anxiously ate. Then his happiness turned into the bitterest tears, and as he cried he picked up this woman in his arms, and he seemed to go off toward the sky. At which point I felt more anguish than my light sleep could sustain, and I woke.

And immediately I started to think, realizing that the hour in which this vision appeared to me had been the fourth hour of that night, in other words the first of the last nine hours of night. Thinking over what had happened to me, I decided to relate it to several of the well-known poets of that time, and since I already had some experience in the art of writing verse, I decided to compose a sonnet in which I would greet all of Love’s faithful. And asking them to interpret my vision, I wrote to them about what I had seen in my sleep. And then I started the sonnet “To all besotted souls.”

To all besotted souls, my counterparts,   
    to whom these verses come with a petition  
    to write me what you think of my rendition:  
    greetings in Love, the lord of open hearts.  
    Already nearly over by a third  
    were all those hours lit up by stars till morning,  
    when Love appeared before me without warning.  
    I shudder thinking what his presence stirred.
It seemed that he was overjoyed in keeping
    my heart in hand, his arms a gentle bed 
    for someone draped in silk—my lady sleeping.
    He woke her. And, respectfully, he fed
    that burning heart to her, who shook with dread.
    Then, as he turned to leave, I saw him weeping.

Many people responded to this sonnet and gave various interpretations of it. One of the responses came from somebody whom I consider my best friend, who wrote a sonnet beginning, “You saw, it seems to me, the whole of worth.” His discovery that I was the one who had sent the poem was, so to speak, the beginning of our friendship. The correct interpretation of my dream was not understood by anyone at first, but now it is clear to even the most simple-minded.

Dante first met Beatrice when they were both 9 years old. In his book Vita Nova New Life he describes his love for her and collects the poems that he wrote for her.

Sadly Beatrice died when she was 24 years old. He dedicated this book to his friend "my first friend" Guido Cavalcanti.

At the end of Vita Nova Dante writes:

After writing this sonnet a marvelous vision appeared to me, in which I saw things that made me decide not to say anything more about this blessed lady until I was capable of writing about her more worthily. To achieve this I am doing all that I can, as surely she knows. So that, if it be pleasing to Him who is that for which all things live, and if my life is long enough, I hope to say things about her that have never been said about any woman.

Then, if it be pleasing to Him who is the Lord of benevolence and grace, may my soul go to contemplate the glory of its lady—that blessed Beatrice, who gazes in glory into the face of Him qui est per omnia secula benedictus.‡‡

‡‡ “Who is blessed forever and ever.”