Identifier: oldlovestoriesre00lega (find matches)
Title: Old love stories retold
Year: 1904 (1900s)
Authors: Le Gallienne, Richard, 1866-1947
Subjects:
Publisher: New York : Baker & Taylor
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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iens dominabitur mihi (Here is a deity stronger than I; who, coming, shall rule over me). It is probable that this historic meeting thus mystically described had come of Dantes father one day taking the boy with him to a festa — or,as we should say, a party — given by his neigh-bour Folco de Portinari. Dantes father was, itwould appear, a well-to-do lawyer, with oldblood in his veins, but still of the burgher class;whereas Portinari was probably richer and in ahigher social position. Another nine years was to pass before Danteand Beatrice were even to speak to each other— for it does not appear that they had spokenon that first meeting — and by that time she hadbeen given in marriage to a banker of Florence,one Simon de Bardi. Meanwhile, Dante mayhave caught glimpses of her in church or on thestreet, but beyond such slight sustenance hislove had had nothing to feed on all those years.Once again Dante dwells on the recurrence ofthe significant number nine in his history. After(16)
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Dante and Beatrice the lapse, says he, of so many days that nineyears exactly were completed since the above-written appearance of this most gracious being,on the last of those days it happened that thesame wonderful lady appeared to me dressed allin pure white, between two gentle ladies elderthan she. And passing through a street, sheturned her eyes thither where I stood sorelyabashed; and by her unspeakable courtesy, whichis now guerdoned in the Great Cycle, she salutedme with so virtuous a bearing that I seemed thenand there to behold the very limits of blessedness.The hour of her most sweet salutation wasexactly the ninth of that day; and because it wasthe first time that any words from her reachedmine ears, I came into such sweetness that Iparted thence as one intoxicated. What were the words, one wonders, that sentthe poet walking on air through the streets ofFlorence, and shut him up in the loneliness ofhis own room to dream of her, and to write mysti-cal sonnets for the interp

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