ardently he was devoted to love has already been shown; and it is firmly believed by all that it was this love which moved his genius to composition in the vulgar tongue, at first in the way of imitation; afterwards through his desire to express his emotions in more permanent shape, and for the sake of renown, he assiduously practised himself therein, and not only surpassed all his contemporaries, but also so illustrated and beautified the language that he made many then, and will make many others hereafter, eager to become skilled in their own tongue.
    âHe delighted also in solitude, holding himself aloof from other people, in order that his meditations might not be interrupted; and if while he was in company any thought occurred to him which pleased him well, however much he might be questioned about any other matter, he would make no reply to his questioner until he had either made sure of his idea or had rejected itâa thing which happened to him many a time when questions were put to him at table, or by his companions on a journey, or elsewhere.
    âIn his studies he was most diligent, and while he was occupied with them no news that he might chance to hear could take him away from them. And it is related bycertain credible witnesses, with regard to his giving himself up wholly to what pleased him, that on one of the occasions when he was in Siena, he chanced to be at an apothecaryâs shop, where a book was brought to him which had been previously promised him, this book being one of much reputation among persons of worth, and having never yet been seen by him. As he happened to be unable to take it elsewhere, he leant over on to the bench in front of the apothecaryâs shop, and there, placing the book before him, began most eagerly to examine it. Soon afterwards, in that same quarter, close to where he was, on the occasion of some general festival a great tournament took place among the noble youths of Siena, accompanied, as is usually the case on such occasions, with a great deal of noise caused by the various instruments and shouts of applause from the bystanders; yet, in spite of all this, and of many other things likely to attract the attention, such as fair ladies dancing, and youthsâ sports of all kinds, he was never seen to stir from his place, nor so much as to raise his eyes from his book. Indeed, although it was about noon when he took his stand there, it was not until past the hour of vespers when, having examined the book thoroughly and taken a general survey of its contents, he got up to leave it. He afterwards declared to several persons, who asked him how he could refrain from looking on at such a splendid festival as had taken place in his presence, that he had been wholly unaware of itâan answer which made his questioners wonder even more than they had done at first.
    âDante, moreover, was of marvellous capacity, with a most retentive memory, and keen intellect, insomuch that when he was in Paris, and in a disputation held in the theological schools, fourteen questions had been propoundedby divers scholars on divers subjects, he without hesitation took them up and went over them in the order in which they had been given, together with the arguments for and against, adduced by the opponents; and then, preserving the same order, he subtly replied to and refuted the arguments on the other sideâwhich thing was regarded as little short of a miracle by those who were present.
    âHe was likewise of the most lofty genius and of subtle invention, as is made manifest by his works, to such as understand, far more clearly than my writing could express. He was very greedy of honour and glory, more so perhaps than beseemed his fame and virtue. Yet, what life is so humble as not to be touched by the sweetness of glory? And it was by reason of this desire, I think, that he loved poetry more than any other
Tess Monaghan 05 - The Sugar House (v5)