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diff --git a/1007-0.txt b/1007-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8986809 --- /dev/null +++ b/1007-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5090 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1007 *** + +PARADISE + +FROM THE DIVINE COMEDY + +BY +Dante Alighieri + +Translated by +THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A. + + + + +Contents + + CANTO I. + CANTO II. + CANTO III. + CANTO IV. + CANTO V. + CANTO VI. + CANTO VII. + CANTO VIII. + CANTO IX. + CANTO X. + CANTO XI. + CANTO XII. + CANTO XIII. + CANTO XIV. + CANTO XV. + CANTO XVI. + CANTO XVII. + CANTO XVIII. + CANTO XIX. + CANTO XX. + CANTO XXI. + CANTO XXII. + CANTO XXIII. + CANTO XXIV. + CANTO XXV. + CANTO XXVI. + CANTO XXVII. + CANTO XXVIII. + CANTO XXIX. + CANTO XXX. + CANTO XXXI. + CANTO XXXII. + CANTO XXXIII. + + + + +PARADISE + + + + +CANTO I + + +His glory, by whose might all things are mov’d, +Pierces the universe, and in one part +Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less. In heav’n, +That largeliest of his light partakes, was I, +Witness of things, which to relate again +Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence; +For that, so near approaching its desire +Our intellect is to such depth absorb’d, +That memory cannot follow. Nathless all, +That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm +Could store, shall now be matter of my song. + +Benign Apollo! this last labour aid, +And make me such a vessel of thy worth, +As thy own laurel claims of me belov’d. +Thus far hath one of steep Parnassus’ brows +Suffic’d me; henceforth there is need of both +For my remaining enterprise Do thou +Enter into my bosom, and there breathe +So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg’d +Forth from his limbs unsheath’d. O power divine! +If thou to me of shine impart so much, +That of that happy realm the shadow’d form +Trac’d in my thoughts I may set forth to view, +Thou shalt behold me of thy favour’d tree +Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves; +For to that honour thou, and my high theme +Will fit me. If but seldom, mighty Sire! +To grace his triumph gathers thence a wreath +Caesar or bard (more shame for human wills +Deprav’d) joy to the Delphic god must spring +From the Pierian foliage, when one breast +Is with such thirst inspir’d. From a small spark +Great flame hath risen: after me perchance +Others with better voice may pray, and gain +From the Cirrhaean city answer kind. + +Through diver passages, the world’s bright lamp +Rises to mortals, but through that which joins +Four circles with the threefold cross, in best +Course, and in happiest constellation set +He comes, and to the worldly wax best gives +Its temper and impression. Morning there, +Here eve was by almost such passage made; +And whiteness had o’erspread that hemisphere, +Blackness the other part; when to the left +I saw Beatrice turn’d, and on the sun +Gazing, as never eagle fix’d his ken. +As from the first a second beam is wont +To issue, and reflected upwards rise, +E’en as a pilgrim bent on his return, +So of her act, that through the eyesight pass’d +Into my fancy, mine was form’d; and straight, +Beyond our mortal wont, I fix’d mine eyes +Upon the sun. Much is allowed us there, +That here exceeds our pow’r; thanks to the place +Made for the dwelling of the human kind + +I suffer’d it not long, and yet so long +That I beheld it bick’ring sparks around, +As iron that comes boiling from the fire. +And suddenly upon the day appear’d +A day new-ris’n, as he, who hath the power, +Had with another sun bedeck’d the sky. + +Her eyes fast fix’d on the eternal wheels, +Beatrice stood unmov’d; and I with ken +Fix’d upon her, from upward gaze remov’d +At her aspect, such inwardly became +As Glaucus, when he tasted of the herb, +That made him peer among the ocean gods; +Words may not tell of that transhuman change: +And therefore let the example serve, though weak, +For those whom grace hath better proof in store + +If I were only what thou didst create, +Then newly, Love! by whom the heav’n is rul’d, +Thou know’st, who by thy light didst bear me up. +Whenas the wheel which thou dost ever guide, +Desired Spirit! with its harmony +Temper’d of thee and measur’d, charm’d mine ear, +Then seem’d to me so much of heav’n to blaze +With the sun’s flame, that rain or flood ne’er made +A lake so broad. The newness of the sound, +And that great light, inflam’d me with desire, +Keener than e’er was felt, to know their cause. + +Whence she who saw me, clearly as myself, +To calm my troubled mind, before I ask’d, +Open’d her lips, and gracious thus began: +“With false imagination thou thyself +Mak’st dull, so that thou seest not the thing, +Which thou hadst seen, had that been shaken off. +Thou art not on the earth as thou believ’st; +For light’ning scap’d from its own proper place +Ne’er ran, as thou hast hither now return’d.” + +Although divested of my first-rais’d doubt, +By those brief words, accompanied with smiles, +Yet in new doubt was I entangled more, +And said: “Already satisfied, I rest +From admiration deep, but now admire +How I above those lighter bodies rise.” + +Whence, after utt’rance of a piteous sigh, +She tow’rds me bent her eyes, with such a look, +As on her frenzied child a mother casts; +Then thus began: “Among themselves all things +Have order; and from hence the form, which makes +The universe resemble God. In this +The higher creatures see the printed steps +Of that eternal worth, which is the end +Whither the line is drawn. All natures lean, +In this their order, diversely, some more, +Some less approaching to their primal source. +Thus they to different havens are mov’d on +Through the vast sea of being, and each one +With instinct giv’n, that bears it in its course; +This to the lunar sphere directs the fire, +This prompts the hearts of mortal animals, +This the brute earth together knits, and binds. +Nor only creatures, void of intellect, +Are aim’d at by this bow; but even those, +That have intelligence and love, are pierc’d. +That Providence, who so well orders all, +With her own light makes ever calm the heaven, +In which the substance, that hath greatest speed, +Is turn’d: and thither now, as to our seat +Predestin’d, we are carried by the force +Of that strong cord, that never looses dart, +But at fair aim and glad. Yet is it true, +That as ofttimes but ill accords the form +To the design of art, through sluggishness +Of unreplying matter, so this course +Is sometimes quitted by the creature, who +Hath power, directed thus, to bend elsewhere; +As from a cloud the fire is seen to fall, +From its original impulse warp’d, to earth, +By vicious fondness. Thou no more admire +Thy soaring, (if I rightly deem,) than lapse +Of torrent downwards from a mountain’s height. +There would in thee for wonder be more cause, +If, free of hind’rance, thou hadst fix’d thyself +Below, like fire unmoving on the earth.” + +So said, she turn’d toward the heav’n her face. + + + + +CANTO II + + +All ye, who in small bark have following sail’d, +Eager to listen, on the advent’rous track +Of my proud keel, that singing cuts its way, +Backward return with speed, and your own shores +Revisit, nor put out to open sea, +Where losing me, perchance ye may remain +Bewilder’d in deep maze. The way I pass +Ne’er yet was run: Minerva breathes the gale, +Apollo guides me, and another Nine +To my rapt sight the arctic beams reveal. +Ye other few, who have outstretch’d the neck. +Timely for food of angels, on which here +They live, yet never know satiety, +Through the deep brine ye fearless may put out +Your vessel, marking, well the furrow broad +Before you in the wave, that on both sides +Equal returns. Those, glorious, who pass’d o’er +To Colchos, wonder’d not as ye will do, +When they saw Jason following the plough. + +The increate perpetual thirst, that draws +Toward the realm of God’s own form, bore us +Swift almost as the heaven ye behold. + +Beatrice upward gaz’d, and I on her, +And in such space as on the notch a dart +Is plac’d, then loosen’d flies, I saw myself +Arriv’d, where wond’rous thing engag’d my sight. +Whence she, to whom no work of mine was hid, +Turning to me, with aspect glad as fair, +Bespake me: “Gratefully direct thy mind +To God, through whom to this first star we come.” + +Me seem’d as if a cloud had cover’d us, +Translucent, solid, firm, and polish’d bright, +Like adamant, which the sun’s beam had smit +Within itself the ever-during pearl +Receiv’d us, as the wave a ray of light +Receives, and rests unbroken. If I then +Was of corporeal frame, and it transcend +Our weaker thought, how one dimension thus +Another could endure, which needs must be +If body enter body, how much more +Must the desire inflame us to behold +That essence, which discovers by what means +God and our nature join’d! There will be seen +That which we hold through faith, not shown by proof, +But in itself intelligibly plain, +E’en as the truth that man at first believes. + +I answered: “Lady! I with thoughts devout, +Such as I best can frame, give thanks to Him, +Who hath remov’d me from the mortal world. +But tell, I pray thee, whence the gloomy spots +Upon this body, which below on earth +Give rise to talk of Cain in fabling quaint?” + +She somewhat smil’d, then spake: “If mortals err +In their opinion, when the key of sense +Unlocks not, surely wonder’s weapon keen +Ought not to pierce thee; since thou find’st, the wings +Of reason to pursue the senses’ flight +Are short. But what thy own thought is, declare.” + +Then I: “What various here above appears, +Is caus’d, I deem, by bodies dense or rare.” + +She then resum’d: “Thou certainly wilt see +In falsehood thy belief o’erwhelm’d, if well +Thou listen to the arguments, which I +Shall bring to face it. The eighth sphere displays +Numberless lights, the which in kind and size +May be remark’d of different aspects; +If rare or dense of that were cause alone, +One single virtue then would be in all, +Alike distributed, or more, or less. +Different virtues needs must be the fruits +Of formal principles, and these, save one, +Will by thy reasoning be destroy’d. Beside, +If rarity were of that dusk the cause, +Which thou inquirest, either in some part +That planet must throughout be void, nor fed +With its own matter; or, as bodies share +Their fat and leanness, in like manner this +Must in its volume change the leaves. The first, +If it were true, had through the sun’s eclipse +Been manifested, by transparency +Of light, as through aught rare beside effus’d. +But this is not. Therefore remains to see +The other cause: and if the other fall, +Erroneous so must prove what seem’d to thee. +If not from side to side this rarity +Pass through, there needs must be a limit, whence +Its contrary no further lets it pass. +And hence the beam, that from without proceeds, +Must be pour’d back, as colour comes, through glass +Reflected, which behind it lead conceals. +Now wilt thou say, that there of murkier hue +Than in the other part the ray is shown, +By being thence refracted farther back. +From this perplexity will free thee soon +Experience, if thereof thou trial make, +The fountain whence your arts derive their streame. +Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove +From thee alike, and more remote the third. +Betwixt the former pair, shall meet thine eyes; +Then turn’d toward them, cause behind thy back +A light to stand, that on the three shall shine, +And thus reflected come to thee from all. +Though that beheld most distant do not stretch +A space so ample, yet in brightness thou +Will own it equaling the rest. But now, +As under snow the ground, if the warm ray +Smites it, remains dismantled of the hue +And cold, that cover’d it before, so thee, +Dismantled in thy mind, I will inform +With light so lively, that the tremulous beam +Shall quiver where it falls. Within the heaven, +Where peace divine inhabits, circles round +A body, in whose virtue dies the being +Of all that it contains. The following heaven, +That hath so many lights, this being divides, +Through different essences, from it distinct, +And yet contain’d within it. The other orbs +Their separate distinctions variously +Dispose, for their own seed and produce apt. +Thus do these organs of the world proceed, +As thou beholdest now, from step to step, +Their influences from above deriving, +And thence transmitting downwards. Mark me well, +How through this passage to the truth I ford, +The truth thou lov’st, that thou henceforth alone, +May’st know to keep the shallows, safe, untold. + +“The virtue and motion of the sacred orbs, +As mallet by the workman’s hand, must needs +By blessed movers be inspir’d. This heaven, +Made beauteous by so many luminaries, +From the deep spirit, that moves its circling sphere, +Its image takes an impress as a seal: +And as the soul, that dwells within your dust, +Through members different, yet together form’d, +In different pow’rs resolves itself; e’en so +The intellectual efficacy unfolds +Its goodness multiplied throughout the stars; +On its own unity revolving still. +Different virtue compact different +Makes with the precious body it enlivens, +With which it knits, as life in you is knit. +From its original nature full of joy, +The virtue mingled through the body shines, +As joy through pupil of the living eye. +From hence proceeds, that which from light to light +Seems different, and not from dense or rare. +This is the formal cause, that generates +Proportion’d to its power, the dusk or clear.” + + + + +CANTO III + + +That sun, which erst with love my bosom warm’d +Had of fair truth unveil’d the sweet aspect, +By proof of right, and of the false reproof; +And I, to own myself convinc’d and free +Of doubt, as much as needed, rais’d my head +Erect for speech. But soon a sight appear’d, +Which, so intent to mark it, held me fix’d, +That of confession I no longer thought. + +As through translucent and smooth glass, or wave +Clear and unmov’d, and flowing not so deep +As that its bed is dark, the shape returns +So faint of our impictur’d lineaments, +That on white forehead set a pearl as strong +Comes to the eye: such saw I many a face, +All stretch’d to speak, from whence I straight conceiv’d +Delusion opposite to that, which rais’d +Between the man and fountain, amorous flame. + +Sudden, as I perceiv’d them, deeming these +Reflected semblances to see of whom +They were, I turn’d mine eyes, and nothing saw; +Then turn’d them back, directed on the light +Of my sweet guide, who smiling shot forth beams +From her celestial eyes. “Wonder not thou,” +She cry’d, “at this my smiling, when I see +Thy childish judgment; since not yet on truth +It rests the foot, but, as it still is wont, +Makes thee fall back in unsound vacancy. +True substances are these, which thou behold’st, +Hither through failure of their vow exil’d. +But speak thou with them; listen, and believe, +That the true light, which fills them with desire, +Permits not from its beams their feet to stray.” + +Straight to the shadow which for converse seem’d +Most earnest, I addressed me, and began, +As one by over-eagerness perplex’d: +“O spirit, born for joy! who in the rays +Of life eternal, of that sweetness know’st +The flavour, which, not tasted, passes far +All apprehension, me it well would please, +If thou wouldst tell me of thy name, and this +Your station here.” Whence she, with kindness prompt, +And eyes glist’ning with smiles: “Our charity, +To any wish by justice introduc’d, +Bars not the door, no more than she above, +Who would have all her court be like herself. +I was a virgin sister in the earth; +And if thy mind observe me well, this form, +With such addition grac’d of loveliness, +Will not conceal me long, but thou wilt know +Piccarda, in the tardiest sphere thus plac’d, +Here ’mid these other blessed also blest. +Our hearts, whose high affections burn alone +With pleasure, from the Holy Spirit conceiv’d, +Admitted to his order dwell in joy. +And this condition, which appears so low, +Is for this cause assign’d us, that our vows +Were in some part neglected and made void.” + +Whence I to her replied: “Something divine +Beams in your countenance, wond’rous fair, +From former knowledge quite transmuting you. +Therefore to recollect was I so slow. +But what thou sayst hath to my memory +Given now such aid, that to retrace your forms +Is easier. Yet inform me, ye, who here +Are happy, long ye for a higher place +More to behold, and more in love to dwell?” + +She with those other spirits gently smil’d, +Then answer’d with such gladness, that she seem’d +With love’s first flame to glow: “Brother! our will +Is in composure settled by the power +Of charity, who makes us will alone +What we possess, and nought beyond desire; +If we should wish to be exalted more, +Then must our wishes jar with the high will +Of him, who sets us here, which in these orbs +Thou wilt confess not possible, if here +To be in charity must needs befall, +And if her nature well thou contemplate. +Rather it is inherent in this state +Of blessedness, to keep ourselves within +The divine will, by which our wills with his +Are one. So that as we from step to step +Are plac’d throughout this kingdom, pleases all, +E’en as our King, who in us plants his will; +And in his will is our tranquillity; +It is the mighty ocean, whither tends +Whatever it creates and nature makes.” + +Then saw I clearly how each spot in heav’n +Is Paradise, though with like gracious dew +The supreme virtue show’r not over all. + +But as it chances, if one sort of food +Hath satiated, and of another still +The appetite remains, that this is ask’d, +And thanks for that return’d; e’en so did I +In word and motion, bent from her to learn +What web it was, through which she had not drawn +The shuttle to its point. She thus began: +“Exalted worth and perfectness of life +The Lady higher up enshrine in heaven, +By whose pure laws upon your nether earth +The robe and veil they wear, to that intent, +That e’en till death they may keep watch or sleep +With their great bridegroom, who accepts each vow, +Which to his gracious pleasure love conforms. +from the world, to follow her, when young +Escap’d; and, in her vesture mantling me, +Made promise of the way her sect enjoins. +Thereafter men, for ill than good more apt, +Forth snatch’d me from the pleasant cloister’s pale. +God knows how after that my life was fram’d. +This other splendid shape, which thou beholdst +At my right side, burning with all the light +Of this our orb, what of myself I tell +May to herself apply. From her, like me +A sister, with like violence were torn +The saintly folds, that shaded her fair brows. +E’en when she to the world again was brought +In spite of her own will and better wont, +Yet not for that the bosom’s inward veil +Did she renounce. This is the luminary +Of mighty Constance, who from that loud blast, +Which blew the second over Suabia’s realm, +That power produc’d, which was the third and last.” + +She ceas’d from further talk, and then began +“Ave Maria” singing, and with that song +Vanish’d, as heavy substance through deep wave. + +Mine eye, that far as it was capable, +Pursued her, when in dimness she was lost, +Turn’d to the mark where greater want impell’d, +And bent on Beatrice all its gaze. +But she as light’ning beam’d upon my looks: +So that the sight sustain’d it not at first. +Whence I to question her became less prompt. + + + + +CANTO IV + + +Between two kinds of food, both equally +Remote and tempting, first a man might die +Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose. +E’en so would stand a lamb between the maw +Of two fierce wolves, in dread of both alike: +E’en so between two deer a dog would stand, +Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise +I to myself impute, by equal doubts +Held in suspense, since of necessity +It happen’d. Silent was I, yet desire +Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake +My wish more earnestly than language could. + +As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed +From ire, that spurr’d him on to deeds unjust +And violent; so look’d Beatrice then. + +“Well I discern,” she thus her words address’d, +“How contrary desires each way constrain thee, +So that thy anxious thought is in itself +Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth. +Thou arguest; if the good intent remain; +What reason that another’s violence +Should stint the measure of my fair desert? + +“Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems, +That spirits to the stars, as Plato deem’d, +Return. These are the questions which thy will +Urge equally; and therefore I the first +Of that will treat which hath the more of gall. +Of seraphim he who is most ensky’d, +Moses and Samuel, and either John, +Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary’s self, +Have not in any other heav’n their seats, +Than have those spirits which so late thou saw’st; +Nor more or fewer years exist; but all +Make the first circle beauteous, diversely +Partaking of sweet life, as more or less +Afflation of eternal bliss pervades them. +Here were they shown thee, not that fate assigns +This for their sphere, but for a sign to thee +Of that celestial furthest from the height. +Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak: +Since from things sensible alone ye learn +That, which digested rightly after turns +To intellectual. For no other cause +The scripture, condescending graciously +To your perception, hands and feet to God +Attributes, nor so means: and holy church +Doth represent with human countenance +Gabriel, and Michael, and him who made +Tobias whole. Unlike what here thou seest, +The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms +Each soul restor’d to its particular star, +Believing it to have been taken thence, +When nature gave it to inform her mold: +Since to appearance his intention is +E’en what his words declare: or else to shun +Derision, haply thus he hath disguis’d +His true opinion. If his meaning be, +That to the influencing of these orbs revert +The honour and the blame in human acts, +Perchance he doth not wholly miss the truth. +This principle, not understood aright, +Erewhile perverted well nigh all the world; +So that it fell to fabled names of Jove, +And Mercury, and Mars. That other doubt, +Which moves thee, is less harmful; for it brings +No peril of removing thee from me. + +“That, to the eye of man, our justice seems +Unjust, is argument for faith, and not +For heretic declension. To the end +This truth may stand more clearly in your view, +I will content thee even to thy wish + +“If violence be, when that which suffers, nought +Consents to that which forceth, not for this +These spirits stood exculpate. For the will, +That will not, still survives unquench’d, and doth +As nature doth in fire, tho’ violence +Wrest it a thousand times; for, if it yield +Or more or less, so far it follows force. +And thus did these, whom they had power to seek +The hallow’d place again. In them, had will +Been perfect, such as once upon the bars +Held Laurence firm, or wrought in Scaevola +To his own hand remorseless, to the path, +Whence they were drawn, their steps had hasten’d back, +When liberty return’d: but in too few +Resolve so steadfast dwells. And by these words +If duly weigh’d, that argument is void, +Which oft might have perplex’d thee still. But now +Another question thwarts thee, which to solve +Might try thy patience without better aid. +I have, no doubt, instill’d into thy mind, +That blessed spirit may not lie; since near +The source of primal truth it dwells for aye: +And thou might’st after of Piccarda learn +That Constance held affection to the veil; +So that she seems to contradict me here. +Not seldom, brother, it hath chanc’d for men +To do what they had gladly left undone, +Yet to shun peril they have done amiss: +E’en as Alcmaeon, at his father’s suit +Slew his own mother, so made pitiless +Not to lose pity. On this point bethink thee, +That force and will are blended in such wise +As not to make the’ offence excusable. +Absolute will agrees not to the wrong, +That inasmuch as there is fear of woe +From non-compliance, it agrees. Of will +Thus absolute Piccarda spake, and I +Of th’ other; so that both have truly said.” + +Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well’d +From forth the fountain of all truth; and such +The rest, that to my wond’ring thoughts I found. + +“O thou of primal love the prime delight! +Goddess!” I straight reply’d, “whose lively words +Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul! +Affection fails me to requite thy grace +With equal sum of gratitude: be his +To recompense, who sees and can reward thee. +Well I discern, that by that truth alone +Enlighten’d, beyond which no truth may roam, +Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know: +Therein she resteth, e’en as in his lair +The wild beast, soon as she hath reach’d that bound, +And she hath power to reach it; else desire +Were given to no end. And thence doth doubt +Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth; +And it is nature which from height to height +On to the summit prompts us. This invites, +This doth assure me, lady, rev’rently +To ask thee of other truth, that yet +Is dark to me. I fain would know, if man +By other works well done may so supply +The failure of his vows, that in your scale +They lack not weight.” I spake; and on me straight +Beatrice look’d with eyes that shot forth sparks +Of love celestial in such copious stream, +That, virtue sinking in me overpower’d, +I turn’d, and downward bent confus’d my sight. + + + + +CANTO V + + +“If beyond earthly wont, the flame of love +Illume me, so that I o’ercome thy power +Of vision, marvel not: but learn the cause +In that perfection of the sight, which soon +As apprehending, hasteneth on to reach +The good it apprehends. I well discern, +How in thine intellect already shines +The light eternal, which to view alone +Ne’er fails to kindle love; and if aught else +Your love seduces, ’tis but that it shows +Some ill-mark’d vestige of that primal beam. + +“This would’st thou know, if failure of the vow +By other service may be so supplied, +As from self-question to assure the soul.” + +Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish, +Began; and thus, as one who breaks not off +Discourse, continued in her saintly strain. +“Supreme of gifts, which God creating gave +Of his free bounty, sign most evident +Of goodness, and in his account most priz’d, +Was liberty of will, the boon wherewith +All intellectual creatures, and them sole +He hath endow’d. Hence now thou mayst infer +Of what high worth the vow, which so is fram’d +That when man offers, God well-pleas’d accepts; +For in the compact between God and him, +This treasure, such as I describe it to thee, +He makes the victim, and of his own act. +What compensation therefore may he find? +If that, whereof thou hast oblation made, +By using well thou think’st to consecrate, +Thou would’st of theft do charitable deed. +Thus I resolve thee of the greater point. + +“But forasmuch as holy church, herein +Dispensing, seems to contradict the truth +I have discover’d to thee, yet behooves +Thou rest a little longer at the board, +Ere the crude aliment, which thou hast taken, +Digested fitly to nutrition turn. +Open thy mind to what I now unfold, +And give it inward keeping. Knowledge comes +Of learning well retain’d, unfruitful else. + +“This sacrifice in essence of two things +Consisteth; one is that, whereof ’tis made, +The covenant the other. For the last, +It ne’er is cancell’d if not kept: and hence +I spake erewhile so strictly of its force. +For this it was enjoin’d the Israelites, +Though leave were giv’n them, as thou know’st, to change +The offering, still to offer. Th’ other part, +The matter and the substance of the vow, +May well be such, to that without offence +It may for other substance be exchang’d. +But at his own discretion none may shift +The burden on his shoulders, unreleas’d +By either key, the yellow and the white. +Nor deem of any change, as less than vain, +If the last bond be not within the new +Included, as the quatre in the six. +No satisfaction therefore can be paid +For what so precious in the balance weighs, +That all in counterpoise must kick the beam. +Take then no vow at random: ta’en, with faith +Preserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once, +Blindly to execute a rash resolve, +Whom better it had suited to exclaim, +‘I have done ill,’ than to redeem his pledge +By doing worse or, not unlike to him +In folly, that great leader of the Greeks: +Whence, on the alter, Iphigenia mourn’d +Her virgin beauty, and hath since made mourn +Both wise and simple, even all, who hear +Of so fell sacrifice. Be ye more staid, +O Christians, not, like feather, by each wind +Removable: nor think to cleanse ourselves +In every water. Either testament, +The old and new, is yours: and for your guide +The shepherd of the church let this suffice +To save you. When by evil lust entic’d, +Remember ye be men, not senseless beasts; +Nor let the Jew, who dwelleth in your streets, +Hold you in mock’ry. Be not, as the lamb, +That, fickle wanton, leaves its mother’s milk, +To dally with itself in idle play.” + +Such were the words that Beatrice spake: +These ended, to that region, where the world +Is liveliest, full of fond desire she turn’d. + +Though mainly prompt new question to propose, +Her silence and chang’d look did keep me dumb. +And as the arrow, ere the cord is still, +Leapeth unto its mark; so on we sped +Into the second realm. There I beheld +The dame, so joyous enter, that the orb +Grew brighter at her smiles; and, if the star +Were mov’d to gladness, what then was my cheer, +Whom nature hath made apt for every change! + +As in a quiet and clear lake the fish, +If aught approach them from without, do draw +Towards it, deeming it their food; so drew +Full more than thousand splendours towards us, +And in each one was heard: “Lo! one arriv’d +To multiply our loves!” and as each came +The shadow, streaming forth effulgence new, +Witness’d augmented joy. Here, reader! think, +If thou didst miss the sequel of my tale, +To know the rest how sorely thou wouldst crave; +And thou shalt see what vehement desire +Possess’d me, as soon as these had met my view, +To know their state. “O born in happy hour! +Thou to whom grace vouchsafes, or ere thy close +Of fleshly warfare, to behold the thrones +Of that eternal triumph, know to us +The light communicated, which through heaven +Expatiates without bound. Therefore, if aught +Thou of our beams wouldst borrow for thine aid, +Spare not; and of our radiance take thy fill.” + +Thus of those piteous spirits one bespake me; +And Beatrice next: “Say on; and trust +As unto gods!”—“How in the light supreme +Thou harbour’st, and from thence the virtue bring’st, +That, sparkling in thine eyes, denotes thy joy, +I mark; but, who thou art, am still to seek; +Or wherefore, worthy spirit! for thy lot +This sphere assign’d, that oft from mortal ken +Is veil’d by others’ beams.” I said, and turn’d +Toward the lustre, that with greeting, kind +Erewhile had hail’d me. Forthwith brighter far +Than erst, it wax’d: and, as himself the sun +Hides through excess of light, when his warm gaze +Hath on the mantle of thick vapours prey’d; +Within its proper ray the saintly shape +Was, through increase of gladness, thus conceal’d; +And, shrouded so in splendour answer’d me, +E’en as the tenour of my song declares. + + + + +CANTO VI + + +“After that Constantine the eagle turn’d +Against the motions of the heav’n, that roll’d +Consenting with its course, when he of yore, +Lavinia’s spouse, was leader of the flight, +A hundred years twice told and more, his seat +At Europe’s extreme point, the bird of Jove +Held, near the mountains, whence he issued first. +There, under shadow of his sacred plumes +Swaying the world, till through successive hands +To mine he came devolv’d. Caesar I was, +And am Justinian; destin’d by the will +Of that prime love, whose influence I feel, +From vain excess to clear th’ encumber’d laws. +Or ere that work engag’d me, I did hold +Christ’s nature merely human, with such faith +Contented. But the blessed Agapete, +Who was chief shepherd, he with warning voice +To the true faith recall’d me. I believ’d +His words: and what he taught, now plainly see, +As thou in every contradiction seest +The true and false oppos’d. Soon as my feet +Were to the church reclaim’d, to my great task, +By inspiration of God’s grace impell’d, +I gave me wholly, and consign’d mine arms +To Belisarius, with whom heaven’s right hand +Was link’d in such conjointment, ’twas a sign +That I should rest. To thy first question thus +I shape mine answer, which were ended here, +But that its tendency doth prompt perforce +To some addition; that thou well, mayst mark +What reason on each side they have to plead, +By whom that holiest banner is withstood, +Both who pretend its power and who oppose. + +“Beginning from that hour, when Pallas died +To give it rule, behold the valorous deeds +Have made it worthy reverence. Not unknown +To thee, how for three hundred years and more +It dwelt in Alba, up to those fell lists +Where for its sake were met the rival three; +Nor aught unknown to thee, which it achiev’d +Down to the Sabines’ wrong to Lucrece’ woe, +With its sev’n kings conqu’ring the nation round; +Nor all it wrought, by Roman worthies home +’Gainst Brennus and th’ Epirot prince, and hosts +Of single chiefs, or states in league combin’d +Of social warfare; hence Torquatus stern, +And Quintius nam’d of his neglected locks, +The Decii, and the Fabii hence acquir’d +Their fame, which I with duteous zeal embalm. +By it the pride of Arab hordes was quell’d, +When they led on by Hannibal o’erpass’d +The Alpine rocks, whence glide thy currents, Po! +Beneath its guidance, in their prime of days +Scipio and Pompey triumph’d; and that hill, +Under whose summit thou didst see the light, +Rued its stern bearing. After, near the hour, +When heav’n was minded that o’er all the world +His own deep calm should brood, to Caesar’s hand +Did Rome consign it; and what then it wrought +From Var unto the Rhine, saw Isere’s flood, +Saw Loire and Seine, and every vale, that fills +The torrent Rhone. What after that it wrought, +When from Ravenna it came forth, and leap’d +The Rubicon, was of so bold a flight, +That tongue nor pen may follow it. Tow’rds Spain +It wheel’d its bands, then tow’rd Dyrrachium smote, +And on Pharsalia with so fierce a plunge, +E’en the warm Nile was conscious to the pang; +Its native shores Antandros, and the streams +Of Simois revisited, and there +Where Hector lies; then ill for Ptolemy +His pennons shook again; lightning thence fell +On Juba; and the next upon your west, +At sound of the Pompeian trump, return’d. + +“What following and in its next bearer’s gripe +It wrought, is now by Cassius and Brutus +Bark’d off in hell, and by Perugia’s sons +And Modena’s was mourn’d. Hence weepeth still +Sad Cleopatra, who, pursued by it, +Took from the adder black and sudden death. +With him it ran e’en to the Red Sea coast; +With him compos’d the world to such a peace, +That of his temple Janus barr’d the door. + +“But all the mighty standard yet had wrought, +And was appointed to perform thereafter, +Throughout the mortal kingdom which it sway’d, +Falls in appearance dwindled and obscur’d, +If one with steady eye and perfect thought +On the third Caesar look; for to his hands, +The living Justice, in whose breath I move, +Committed glory, e’en into his hands, +To execute the vengeance of its wrath. + +“Hear now and wonder at what next I tell. +After with Titus it was sent to wreak +Vengeance for vengeance of the ancient sin, +And, when the Lombard tooth, with fangs impure, +Did gore the bosom of the holy church, +Under its wings victorious, Charlemagne +Sped to her rescue. Judge then for thyself +Of those, whom I erewhile accus’d to thee, +What they are, and how grievous their offending, +Who are the cause of all your ills. The one +Against the universal ensign rears +The yellow lilies, and with partial aim +That to himself the other arrogates: +So that ’tis hard to see which more offends. +Be yours, ye Ghibellines, to veil your arts +Beneath another standard: ill is this +Follow’d of him, who severs it and justice: +And let not with his Guelphs the new-crown’d Charles +Assail it, but those talons hold in dread, +Which from a lion of more lofty port +Have rent the easing. Many a time ere now +The sons have for the sire’s transgression wail’d; +Nor let him trust the fond belief, that heav’n +Will truck its armour for his lilied shield. + +“This little star is furnish’d with good spirits, +Whose mortal lives were busied to that end, +That honour and renown might wait on them: +And, when desires thus err in their intention, +True love must needs ascend with slacker beam. +But it is part of our delight, to measure +Our wages with the merit; and admire +The close proportion. Hence doth heav’nly justice +Temper so evenly affection in us, +It ne’er can warp to any wrongfulness. +Of diverse voices is sweet music made: +So in our life the different degrees +Render sweet harmony among these wheels. + +“Within the pearl, that now encloseth us, +Shines Romeo’s light, whose goodly deed and fair +Met ill acceptance. But the Provencals, +That were his foes, have little cause for mirth. +Ill shapes that man his course, who makes his wrong +Of other’s worth. Four daughters were there born +To Raymond Berenger, and every one +Became a queen; and this for him did Romeo, +Though of mean state and from a foreign land. +Yet envious tongues incited him to ask +A reckoning of that just one, who return’d +Twelve fold to him for ten. Aged and poor +He parted thence: and if the world did know +The heart he had, begging his life by morsels, +’Twould deem the praise, it yields him, scantly dealt.” + + + + +CANTO VII + + +“Hosanna Sanctus Deus Sabaoth +Superillustrans claritate tua +Felices ignes horum malahoth!” +Thus chanting saw I turn that substance bright +With fourfold lustre to its orb again, +Revolving; and the rest unto their dance +With it mov’d also; and like swiftest sparks, +In sudden distance from my sight were veil’d. + +Me doubt possess’d, and “Speak,” it whisper’d me, +“Speak, speak unto thy lady, that she quench +Thy thirst with drops of sweetness.” Yet blank awe, +Which lords it o’er me, even at the sound +Of Beatrice’s name, did bow me down +As one in slumber held. Not long that mood +Beatrice suffer’d: she, with such a smile, +As might have made one blest amid the flames, +Beaming upon me, thus her words began: +“Thou in thy thought art pond’ring (as I deem), +And what I deem is truth how just revenge +Could be with justice punish’d: from which doubt +I soon will free thee; so thou mark my words; +For they of weighty matter shall possess thee. + +“That man, who was unborn, himself condemn’d, +And, in himself, all, who since him have liv’d, +His offspring: whence, below, the human kind +Lay sick in grievous error many an age; +Until it pleas’d the Word of God to come +Amongst them down, to his own person joining +The nature, from its Maker far estrang’d, +By the mere act of his eternal love. +Contemplate here the wonder I unfold. +The nature with its Maker thus conjoin’d, +Created first was blameless, pure and good; +But through itself alone was driven forth +From Paradise, because it had eschew’d +The way of truth and life, to evil turn’d. +Ne’er then was penalty so just as that +Inflicted by the cross, if thou regard +The nature in assumption doom’d: ne’er wrong +So great, in reference to him, who took +Such nature on him, and endur’d the doom. +God therefore and the Jews one sentence pleased: +So different effects flow’d from one act, +And heav’n was open’d, though the earth did quake. +Count it not hard henceforth, when thou dost hear +That a just vengeance was by righteous court +Justly reveng’d. But yet I see thy mind +By thought on thought arising sore perplex’d, +And with how vehement desire it asks +Solution of the maze. What I have heard, +Is plain, thou sayst: but wherefore God this way +For our redemption chose, eludes my search. + +“Brother! no eye of man not perfected, +Nor fully ripen’d in the flame of love, +May fathom this decree. It is a mark, +In sooth, much aim’d at, and but little kenn’d: +And I will therefore show thee why such way +Was worthiest. The celestial love, that spume +All envying in its bounty, in itself +With such effulgence blazeth, as sends forth +All beauteous things eternal. What distils +Immediate thence, no end of being knows, +Bearing its seal immutably impress’d. +Whatever thence immediate falls, is free, +Free wholly, uncontrollable by power +Of each thing new: by such conformity +More grateful to its author, whose bright beams, +Though all partake their shining, yet in those +Are liveliest, which resemble him the most. +These tokens of pre-eminence on man +Largely bestow’d, if any of them fail, +He needs must forfeit his nobility, +No longer stainless. Sin alone is that, +Which doth disfranchise him, and make unlike +To the chief good; for that its light in him +Is darken’d. And to dignity thus lost +Is no return; unless, where guilt makes void, +He for ill pleasure pay with equal pain. +Your nature, which entirely in its seed +Trangress’d, from these distinctions fell, no less +Than from its state in Paradise; nor means +Found of recovery (search all methods out +As strickly as thou may) save one of these, +The only fords were left through which to wade, +Either that God had of his courtesy +Releas’d him merely, or else man himself +For his own folly by himself aton’d. + +“Fix now thine eye, intently as thou canst, +On th’ everlasting counsel, and explore, +Instructed by my words, the dread abyss. + +“Man in himself had ever lack’d the means +Of satisfaction, for he could not stoop +Obeying, in humility so low, +As high he, disobeying, thought to soar: +And for this reason he had vainly tried +Out of his own sufficiency to pay +The rigid satisfaction. Then behooved +That God should by his own ways lead him back +Unto the life, from whence he fell, restor’d: +By both his ways, I mean, or one alone. +But since the deed is ever priz’d the more, +The more the doer’s good intent appears, +Goodness celestial, whose broad signature +Is on the universe, of all its ways +To raise ye up, was fain to leave out none, +Nor aught so vast or so magnificent, +Either for him who gave or who receiv’d +Between the last night and the primal day, +Was or can be. For God more bounty show’d. +Giving himself to make man capable +Of his return to life, than had the terms +Been mere and unconditional release. +And for his justice, every method else +Were all too scant, had not the Son of God +Humbled himself to put on mortal flesh. + +“Now, to fulfil each wish of thine, remains +I somewhat further to thy view unfold. +That thou mayst see as clearly as myself. + +“I see, thou sayst, the air, the fire I see, +The earth and water, and all things of them +Compounded, to corruption turn, and soon +Dissolve. Yet these were also things create, +Because, if what were told me, had been true +They from corruption had been therefore free. + +“The angels, O my brother! and this clime +Wherein thou art, impassible and pure, +I call created, as indeed they are +In their whole being. But the elements, +Which thou hast nam’d, and what of them is made, +Are by created virtue’ inform’d: create +Their substance, and create the’ informing virtue +In these bright stars, that round them circling move +The soul of every brute and of each plant, +The ray and motion of the sacred lights, +With complex potency attract and turn. +But this our life the’ eternal good inspires +Immediate, and enamours of itself; +So that our wishes rest for ever here. + +“And hence thou mayst by inference conclude +Our resurrection certain, if thy mind +Consider how the human flesh was fram’d, +When both our parents at the first were made.” + + + + +CANTO VIII + + +The world was in its day of peril dark +Wont to believe the dotage of fond love +From the fair Cyprian deity, who rolls +In her third epicycle, shed on men +By stream of potent radiance: therefore they +Of elder time, in their old error blind, +Not her alone with sacrifice ador’d +And invocation, but like honours paid +To Cupid and Dione, deem’d of them +Her mother, and her son, him whom they feign’d +To sit in Dido’s bosom: and from her, +Whom I have sung preluding, borrow’d they +The appellation of that star, which views, +Now obvious and now averse, the sun. + +I was not ware that I was wafted up +Into its orb; but the new loveliness +That grac’d my lady, gave me ample proof +That we had entered there. And as in flame +A sparkle is distinct, or voice in voice +Discern’d, when one its even tenour keeps, +The other comes and goes; so in that light +I other luminaries saw, that cours’d +In circling motion, rapid more or less, +As their eternal phases each impels. + +Never was blast from vapour charged with cold, +Whether invisible to eye or no, +Descended with such speed, it had not seem’d +To linger in dull tardiness, compar’d +To those celestial lights, that tow’rds us came, +Leaving the circuit of their joyous ring, +Conducted by the lofty seraphim. +And after them, who in the van appear’d, +Such an hosanna sounded, as hath left +Desire, ne’er since extinct in me, to hear +Renew’d the strain. Then parting from the rest +One near us drew, and sole began: “We all +Are ready at thy pleasure, well dispos’d +To do thee gentle service. We are they, +To whom thou in the world erewhile didst Sing +‘O ye! whose intellectual ministry +Moves the third heaven!’ and in one orb we roll, +One motion, one impulse, with those who rule +Princedoms in heaven; yet are of love so full, +That to please thee ’twill be as sweet to rest.” + +After mine eyes had with meek reverence +Sought the celestial guide, and were by her +Assur’d, they turn’d again unto the light +Who had so largely promis’d, and with voice +That bare the lively pressure of my zeal, +“Tell who ye are,” I cried. Forthwith it grew +In size and splendour, through augmented joy; +And thus it answer’d: “A short date below +The world possess’d me. Had the time been more, +Much evil, that will come, had never chanc’d. +My gladness hides thee from me, which doth shine +Around, and shroud me, as an animal +In its own silk enswath’d. Thou lov’dst me well, +And had’st good cause; for had my sojourning +Been longer on the earth, the love I bare thee +Had put forth more than blossoms. The left bank, +That Rhone, when he hath mix’d with Sorga, laves. + +“In me its lord expected, and that horn +Of fair Ausonia, with its boroughs old, +Bari, and Croton, and Gaeta pil’d, +From where the Trento disembogues his waves, +With Verde mingled, to the salt sea-flood. +Already on my temples beam’d the crown, +Which gave me sov’reignty over the land +By Danube wash’d, whenas he strays beyond +The limits of his German shores. The realm, +Where, on the gulf by stormy Eurus lash’d, +Betwixt Pelorus and Pachynian heights, +The beautiful Trinacria lies in gloom +(Not through Typhaeus, but the vap’ry cloud +Bituminous upsteam’d), THAT too did look +To have its scepter wielded by a race +Of monarchs, sprung through me from Charles and Rodolph; +had not ill lording which doth spirit up +The people ever, in Palermo rais’d +The shout of ‘death,’ re-echo’d loud and long. +Had but my brother’s foresight kenn’d as much, +He had been warier that the greedy want +Of Catalonia might not work his bale. +And truly need there is, that he forecast, +Or other for him, lest more freight be laid +On his already over-laden bark. +Nature in him, from bounty fall’n to thrift, +Would ask the guard of braver arms, than such +As only care to have their coffers fill’d.” + +“My liege, it doth enhance the joy thy words +Infuse into me, mighty as it is, +To think my gladness manifest to thee, +As to myself, who own it, when thou lookst +Into the source and limit of all good, +There, where thou markest that which thou dost speak, +Thence priz’d of me the more. Glad thou hast made me. +Now make intelligent, clearing the doubt +Thy speech hath raised in me; for much I muse, +How bitter can spring up, when sweet is sown.” + +I thus inquiring; he forthwith replied: +“If I have power to show one truth, soon that +Shall face thee, which thy questioning declares +Behind thee now conceal’d. The Good, that guides +And blessed makes this realm, which thou dost mount, +Ordains its providence to be the virtue +In these great bodies: nor th’ all perfect Mind +Upholds their nature merely, but in them +Their energy to save: for nought, that lies +Within the range of that unerring bow, +But is as level with the destin’d aim, +As ever mark to arrow’s point oppos’d. +Were it not thus, these heavens, thou dost visit, +Would their effect so work, it would not be +Art, but destruction; and this may not chance, +If th’ intellectual powers, that move these stars, +Fail not, or who, first faulty made them fail. +Wilt thou this truth more clearly evidenc’d?” + +To whom I thus: “It is enough: no fear, +I see, lest nature in her part should tire.” + +He straight rejoin’d: “Say, were it worse for man, +If he liv’d not in fellowship on earth?” + +“Yea,” answer’d I; “nor here a reason needs.” + +“And may that be, if different estates +Grow not of different duties in your life? +Consult your teacher, and he tells you ‘no.’” + +Thus did he come, deducing to this point, +And then concluded: “For this cause behooves, +The roots, from whence your operations come, +Must differ. Therefore one is Solon born; +Another, Xerxes; and Melchisidec +A third; and he a fourth, whose airy voyage +Cost him his son. In her circuitous course, +Nature, that is the seal to mortal wax, +Doth well her art, but no distinctions owns +’Twixt one or other household. Hence befalls +That Esau is so wide of Jacob: hence +Quirinus of so base a father springs, +He dates from Mars his lineage. Were it not +That providence celestial overrul’d, +Nature, in generation, must the path +Trac’d by the generator, still pursue +Unswervingly. Thus place I in thy sight +That, which was late behind thee. But, in sign +Of more affection for thee, ’tis my will +Thou wear this corollary. Nature ever +Finding discordant fortune, like all seed +Out of its proper climate, thrives but ill. +And were the world below content to mark +And work on the foundation nature lays, +It would not lack supply of excellence. +But ye perversely to religion strain +Him, who was born to gird on him the sword, +And of the fluent phrasemen make your king; +Therefore your steps have wander’d from the paths.” + + + + +CANTO IX + + +After solution of my doubt, thy Charles, +O fair Clemenza, of the treachery spake +That must befall his seed: but, “Tell it not,” +Said he, “and let the destin’d years come round.” +Nor may I tell thee more, save that the meed +Of sorrow well-deserv’d shall quit your wrongs. + +And now the visage of that saintly light +Was to the sun, that fills it, turn’d again, +As to the good, whose plenitude of bliss +Sufficeth all. O ye misguided souls! +Infatuate, who from such a good estrange +Your hearts, and bend your gaze on vanity, +Alas for you!—And lo! toward me, next, +Another of those splendent forms approach’d, +That, by its outward bright’ning, testified +The will it had to pleasure me. The eyes +Of Beatrice, resting, as before, +Firmly upon me, manifested forth +Approval of my wish. “And O,” I cried, +“Blest spirit! quickly be my will perform’d; +And prove thou to me, that my inmost thoughts +I can reflect on thee.” Thereat the light, +That yet was new to me, from the recess, +Where it before was singing, thus began, +As one who joys in kindness: “In that part +Of the deprav’d Italian land, which lies +Between Rialto, and the fountain-springs +Of Brenta and of Piava, there doth rise, +But to no lofty eminence, a hill, +From whence erewhile a firebrand did descend, +That sorely sheet the region. From one root +I and it sprang; my name on earth Cunizza: +And here I glitter, for that by its light +This star o’ercame me. Yet I naught repine, +Nor grudge myself the cause of this my lot, +Which haply vulgar hearts can scarce conceive. + +“This jewel, that is next me in our heaven, +Lustrous and costly, great renown hath left, +And not to perish, ere these hundred years +Five times absolve their round. Consider thou, +If to excel be worthy man’s endeavour, +When such life may attend the first. Yet they +Care not for this, the crowd that now are girt +By Adice and Tagliamento, still +Impenitent, tho’ scourg’d. The hour is near, +When for their stubbornness at Padua’s marsh +The water shall be chang’d, that laves Vicena +And where Cagnano meets with Sile, one +Lords it, and bears his head aloft, for whom +The web is now a-warping. Feltro too +Shall sorrow for its godless shepherd’s fault, +Of so deep stain, that never, for the like, +Was Malta’s bar unclos’d. Too large should be +The skillet, that would hold Ferrara’s blood, +And wearied he, who ounce by ounce would weight it, +The which this priest, in show of party-zeal, +Courteous will give; nor will the gift ill suit +The country’s custom. We descry above, +Mirrors, ye call them thrones, from which to us +Reflected shine the judgments of our God: +Whence these our sayings we avouch for good.” + +She ended, and appear’d on other thoughts +Intent, re-ent’ring on the wheel she late +Had left. That other joyance meanwhile wax’d +A thing to marvel at, in splendour glowing, +Like choicest ruby stricken by the sun, +For, in that upper clime, effulgence comes +Of gladness, as here laughter: and below, +As the mind saddens, murkier grows the shade. + +“God seeth all: and in him is thy sight,” +Said I, “blest Spirit! Therefore will of his +Cannot to thee be dark. Why then delays +Thy voice to satisfy my wish untold, +That voice which joins the inexpressive song, +Pastime of heav’n, the which those ardours sing, +That cowl them with six shadowing wings outspread? +I would not wait thy asking, wert thou known +To me, as thoroughly I to thee am known.” + +He forthwith answ’ring, thus his words began: +“The valley’ of waters, widest next to that +Which doth the earth engarland, shapes its course, +Between discordant shores, against the sun +Inward so far, it makes meridian there, +Where was before th’ horizon. Of that vale +Dwelt I upon the shore, ’twixt Ebro’s stream +And Macra’s, that divides with passage brief +Genoan bounds from Tuscan. East and west +Are nearly one to Begga and my land, +Whose haven erst was with its own blood warm. +Who knew my name were wont to call me Folco: +And I did bear impression of this heav’n, +That now bears mine: for not with fiercer flame +Glow’d Belus’ daughter, injuring alike +Sichaeus and Creusa, than did I, +Long as it suited the unripen’d down +That fledg’d my cheek: nor she of Rhodope, +That was beguiled of Demophoon; +Nor Jove’s son, when the charms of Iole +Were shrin’d within his heart. And yet there hides +No sorrowful repentance here, but mirth, +Not for the fault (that doth not come to mind), +But for the virtue, whose o’erruling sway +And providence have wrought thus quaintly. Here +The skill is look’d into, that fashioneth +With such effectual working, and the good +Discern’d, accruing to this upper world +From that below. But fully to content +Thy wishes, all that in this sphere have birth, +Demands my further parle. Inquire thou wouldst, +Who of this light is denizen, that here +Beside me sparkles, as the sun-beam doth +On the clear wave. Know then, the soul of Rahab +Is in that gladsome harbour, to our tribe +United, and the foremost rank assign’d. +He to that heav’n, at which the shadow ends +Of your sublunar world, was taken up, +First, in Christ’s triumph, of all souls redeem’d: +For well behoov’d, that, in some part of heav’n, +She should remain a trophy, to declare +The mighty contest won with either palm; +For that she favour’d first the high exploit +Of Joshua on the holy land, whereof +The Pope recks little now. Thy city, plant +Of him, that on his Maker turn’d the back, +And of whose envying so much woe hath sprung, +Engenders and expands the cursed flower, +That hath made wander both the sheep and lambs, +Turning the shepherd to a wolf. For this, +The gospel and great teachers laid aside, +The decretals, as their stuft margins show, +Are the sole study. Pope and Cardinals, +Intent on these, ne’er journey but in thought +To Nazareth, where Gabriel op’d his wings. +Yet it may chance, erelong, the Vatican, +And other most selected parts of Rome, +That were the grave of Peter’s soldiery, +Shall be deliver’d from the adult’rous bond.” + + + + +CANTO X + + +Looking into his first-born with the love, +Which breathes from both eternal, the first Might +Ineffable, whence eye or mind +Can roam, hath in such order all dispos’d, +As none may see and fail to enjoy. Raise, then, +O reader! to the lofty wheels, with me, +Thy ken directed to the point, whereat +One motion strikes on th’ other. There begin +Thy wonder of the mighty Architect, +Who loves his work so inwardly, his eye +Doth ever watch it. See, how thence oblique +Brancheth the circle, where the planets roll +To pour their wished influence on the world; +Whose path not bending thus, in heav’n above +Much virtue would be lost, and here on earth, +All power well nigh extinct: or, from direct +Were its departure distant more or less, +I’ th’ universal order, great defect +Must, both in heav’n and here beneath, ensue. + +Now rest thee, reader! on thy bench, and muse +Anticipative of the feast to come; +So shall delight make thee not feel thy toil. +Lo! I have set before thee, for thyself +Feed now: the matter I indite, henceforth +Demands entire my thought. Join’d with the part, +Which late we told of, the great minister +Of nature, that upon the world imprints +The virtue of the heaven, and doles out +Time for us with his beam, went circling on +Along the spires, where each hour sooner comes; +And I was with him, weetless of ascent, +As one, who till arriv’d, weets not his coming. + +For Beatrice, she who passeth on +So suddenly from good to better, time +Counts not the act, oh then how great must needs +Have been her brightness! What she was i’ th’ sun +(Where I had enter’d), not through change of hue, +But light transparent—did I summon up +Genius, art, practice—I might not so speak, +It should be e’er imagin’d: yet believ’d +It may be, and the sight be justly crav’d. +And if our fantasy fail of such height, +What marvel, since no eye above the sun +Hath ever travel’d? Such are they dwell here, +Fourth family of the Omnipotent Sire, +Who of his spirit and of his offspring shows; +And holds them still enraptur’d with the view. +And thus to me Beatrice: “Thank, oh thank, +The Sun of angels, him, who by his grace +To this perceptible hath lifted thee.” + +Never was heart in such devotion bound, +And with complacency so absolute +Dispos’d to render up itself to God, +As mine was at those words: and so entire +The love for Him, that held me, it eclips’d +Beatrice in oblivion. Naught displeas’d +Was she, but smil’d thereat so joyously, +That of her laughing eyes the radiance brake +And scatter’d my collected mind abroad. + +Then saw I a bright band, in liveliness +Surpassing, who themselves did make the crown, +And us their centre: yet more sweet in voice, +Than in their visage beaming. Cinctur’d thus, +Sometime Latona’s daughter we behold, +When the impregnate air retains the thread, +That weaves her zone. In the celestial court, +Whence I return, are many jewels found, +So dear and beautiful, they cannot brook +Transporting from that realm: and of these lights +Such was the song. Who doth not prune his wing +To soar up thither, let him look from thence +For tidings from the dumb. When, singing thus, +Those burning suns that circled round us thrice, +As nearest stars around the fixed pole, +Then seem’d they like to ladies, from the dance +Not ceasing, but suspense, in silent pause, +List’ning, till they have caught the strain anew: +Suspended so they stood: and, from within, +Thus heard I one, who spake: “Since with its beam +The grace, whence true love lighteth first his flame, +That after doth increase by loving, shines +So multiplied in thee, it leads thee up +Along this ladder, down whose hallow’d steps +None e’er descend, and mount them not again, +Who from his phial should refuse thee wine +To slake thy thirst, no less constrained were, +Than water flowing not unto the sea. +Thou fain wouldst hear, what plants are these, that bloom +In the bright garland, which, admiring, girds +This fair dame round, who strengthens thee for heav’n. +I then was of the lambs, that Dominic +Leads, for his saintly flock, along the way, +Where well they thrive, not sworn with vanity. +He, nearest on my right hand, brother was, +And master to me: Albert of Cologne +Is this: and of Aquinum, Thomas I. +If thou of all the rest wouldst be assur’d, +Let thine eye, waiting on the words I speak, +In circuit journey round the blessed wreath. +That next resplendence issues from the smile +Of Gratian, who to either forum lent +Such help, as favour wins in Paradise. +The other, nearest, who adorns our quire, +Was Peter, he that with the widow gave +To holy church his treasure. The fifth light, +Goodliest of all, is by such love inspired, +That all your world craves tidings of its doom: +Within, there is the lofty light, endow’d +With sapience so profound, if truth be truth, +That with a ken of such wide amplitude +No second hath arisen. Next behold +That taper’s radiance, to whose view was shown, +Clearliest, the nature and the ministry +Angelical, while yet in flesh it dwelt. +In the other little light serenely smiles +That pleader for the Christian temples, he +Who did provide Augustin of his lore. +Now, if thy mind’s eye pass from light to light, +Upon my praises following, of the eighth +Thy thirst is next. The saintly soul, that shows +The world’s deceitfulness, to all who hear him, +Is, with the sight of all the good, that is, +Blest there. The limbs, whence it was driven, lie +Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom +And exile came it here. Lo! further on, +Where flames the arduous Spirit of Isidore, +Of Bede, and Richard, more than man, erewhile, +In deep discernment. Lastly this, from whom +Thy look on me reverteth, was the beam +Of one, whose spirit, on high musings bent, +Rebuk’d the ling’ring tardiness of death. +It is the eternal light of Sigebert, +Who ’scap’d not envy, when of truth he argued, +Reading in the straw-litter’d street.” Forthwith, +As clock, that calleth up the spouse of God +To win her bridegroom’s love at matin’s hour, +Each part of other fitly drawn and urg’d, +Sends out a tinkling sound, of note so sweet, +Affection springs in well-disposed breast; +Thus saw I move the glorious wheel, thus heard +Voice answ’ring voice, so musical and soft, +It can be known but where day endless shines. + + + + +CANTO XI + + +O fond anxiety of mortal men! +How vain and inconclusive arguments +Are those, which make thee beat thy wings below +For statues one, and one for aphorisms +Was hunting; this the priesthood follow’d, that +By force or sophistry aspir’d to rule; +To rob another, and another sought +By civil business wealth; one moiling lay +Tangled in net of sensual delight, +And one to witless indolence resign’d; +What time from all these empty things escap’d, +With Beatrice, I thus gloriously +Was rais’d aloft, and made the guest of heav’n. + +They of the circle to that point, each one. +Where erst it was, had turn’d; and steady glow’d, +As candle in his socket. Then within +The lustre, that erewhile bespake me, smiling +With merer gladness, heard I thus begin: + +“E’en as his beam illumes me, so I look +Into the eternal light, and clearly mark +Thy thoughts, from whence they rise. Thou art in doubt, +And wouldst, that I should bolt my words afresh +In such plain open phrase, as may be smooth +To thy perception, where I told thee late +That ‘well they thrive;’ and that ‘no second such +Hath risen,’ which no small distinction needs. + +“The providence, that governeth the world, +In depth of counsel by created ken +Unfathomable, to the end that she, +Who with loud cries was ‘spous’d in precious blood, +Might keep her footing towards her well-belov’d, +Safe in herself and constant unto him, +Hath two ordain’d, who should on either hand +In chief escort her: one seraphic all +In fervency; for wisdom upon earth, +The other splendour of cherubic light. +I but of one will tell: he tells of both, +Who one commendeth which of them so’er +Be taken: for their deeds were to one end. + +“Between Tupino, and the wave, that falls +From blest Ubaldo’s chosen hill, there hangs +Rich slope of mountain high, whence heat and cold +Are wafted through Perugia’s eastern gate: +And Norcera with Gualdo, in its rear +Mourn for their heavy yoke. Upon that side, +Where it doth break its steepness most, arose +A sun upon the world, as duly this +From Ganges doth: therefore let none, who speak +Of that place, say Ascesi; for its name +Were lamely so deliver’d; but the East, +To call things rightly, be it henceforth styl’d. +He was not yet much distant from his rising, +When his good influence ’gan to bless the earth. +A dame to whom none openeth pleasure’s gate +More than to death, was, ’gainst his father’s will, +His stripling choice: and he did make her his, +Before the Spiritual court, by nuptial bonds, +And in his father’s sight: from day to day, +Then lov’d her more devoutly. She, bereav’d +Of her first husband, slighted and obscure, +Thousand and hundred years and more, remain’d +Without a single suitor, till he came. +Nor aught avail’d, that, with Amyclas, she +Was found unmov’d at rumour of his voice, +Who shook the world: nor aught her constant boldness +Whereby with Christ she mounted on the cross, +When Mary stay’d beneath. But not to deal +Thus closely with thee longer, take at large +The rovers’ titles—Poverty and Francis. +Their concord and glad looks, wonder and love, +And sweet regard gave birth to holy thoughts, +So much, that venerable Bernard first +Did bare his feet, and, in pursuit of peace +So heavenly, ran, yet deem’d his footing slow. +O hidden riches! O prolific good! +Egidius bares him next, and next Sylvester, +And follow both the bridegroom; so the bride +Can please them. Thenceforth goes he on his way, +The father and the master, with his spouse, +And with that family, whom now the cord +Girt humbly: nor did abjectness of heart +Weigh down his eyelids, for that he was son +Of Pietro Bernardone, and by men +In wond’rous sort despis’d. But royally +His hard intention he to Innocent +Set forth, and from him first receiv’d the seal +On his religion. Then, when numerous flock’d +The tribe of lowly ones, that trac’d HIS steps, +Whose marvellous life deservedly were sung +In heights empyreal, through Honorius’ hand +A second crown, to deck their Guardian’s virtues, +Was by the eternal Spirit inwreath’d: and when +He had, through thirst of martyrdom, stood up +In the proud Soldan’s presence, and there preach’d +Christ and his followers; but found the race +Unripen’d for conversion: back once more +He hasted (not to intermit his toil), +And reap’d Ausonian lands. On the hard rock, +’Twixt Arno and the Tyber, he from Christ +Took the last Signet, which his limbs two years +Did carry. Then the season come, that he, +Who to such good had destin’d him, was pleas’d +T’ advance him to the meed, which he had earn’d +By his self-humbling, to his brotherhood, +As their just heritage, he gave in charge +His dearest lady, and enjoin’d their love +And faith to her: and, from her bosom, will’d +His goodly spirit should move forth, returning +To its appointed kingdom, nor would have +His body laid upon another bier. + +“Think now of one, who were a fit colleague, +To keep the bark of Peter in deep sea +Helm’d to right point; and such our Patriarch was. +Therefore who follow him, as he enjoins, +Thou mayst be certain, take good lading in. +But hunger of new viands tempts his flock, +So that they needs into strange pastures wide +Must spread them: and the more remote from him +The stragglers wander, so much mole they come +Home to the sheep-fold, destitute of milk. +There are of them, in truth, who fear their harm, +And to the shepherd cleave; but these so few, +A little stuff may furnish out their cloaks. + +“Now, if my words be clear, if thou have ta’en +Good heed, if that, which I have told, recall +To mind, thy wish may be in part fulfill’d: +For thou wilt see the point from whence they split, +Nor miss of the reproof, which that implies, +‘That well they thrive not sworn with vanity.’” + + + + +CANTO XII + + +Soon as its final word the blessed flame +Had rais’d for utterance, straight the holy mill +Began to wheel, nor yet had once revolv’d, +Or ere another, circling, compass’d it, +Motion to motion, song to song, conjoining, +Song, that as much our muses doth excel, +Our Sirens with their tuneful pipes, as ray +Of primal splendour doth its faint reflex. + +As when, if Juno bid her handmaid forth, +Two arches parallel, and trick’d alike, +Span the thin cloud, the outer taking birth +From that within (in manner of that voice +Whom love did melt away, as sun the mist), +And they who gaze, presageful call to mind +The compact, made with Noah, of the world +No more to be o’erflow’d; about us thus +Of sempiternal roses, bending, wreath’d +Those garlands twain, and to the innermost +E’en thus th’ external answered. When the footing, +And other great festivity, of song, +And radiance, light with light accordant, each +Jocund and blythe, had at their pleasure still’d +(E’en as the eyes by quick volition mov’d, +Are shut and rais’d together), from the heart +Of one amongst the new lights mov’d a voice, +That made me seem like needle to the star, +In turning to its whereabout, and thus +Began: “The love, that makes me beautiful, +Prompts me to tell of th’ other guide, for whom +Such good of mine is spoken. Where one is, +The other worthily should also be; +That as their warfare was alike, alike +Should be their glory. Slow, and full of doubt, +And with thin ranks, after its banner mov’d +The army of Christ (which it so clearly cost +To reappoint), when its imperial Head, +Who reigneth ever, for the drooping host +Did make provision, thorough grace alone, +And not through its deserving. As thou heard’st, +Two champions to the succour of his spouse +He sent, who by their deeds and words might join +Again his scatter’d people. In that clime, +Where springs the pleasant west-wind to unfold +The fresh leaves, with which Europe sees herself +New-garmented; nor from those billows far, +Beyond whose chiding, after weary course, +The sun doth sometimes hide him, safe abides +The happy Callaroga, under guard +Of the great shield, wherein the lion lies +Subjected and supreme. And there was born +The loving million of the Christian faith, +The hollow’d wrestler, gentle to his own, +And to his enemies terrible. So replete +His soul with lively virtue, that when first +Created, even in the mother’s womb, +It prophesied. When, at the sacred font, +The spousals were complete ’twixt faith and him, +Where pledge of mutual safety was exchang’d, +The dame, who was his surety, in her sleep +Beheld the wondrous fruit, that was from him +And from his heirs to issue. And that such +He might be construed, as indeed he was, +She was inspir’d to name him of his owner, +Whose he was wholly, and so call’d him Dominic. +And I speak of him, as the labourer, +Whom Christ in his own garden chose to be +His help-mate. Messenger he seem’d, and friend +Fast-knit to Christ; and the first love he show’d, +Was after the first counsel that Christ gave. +Many a time his nurse, at entering found +That he had ris’n in silence, and was prostrate, +As who should say, “My errand was for this.” +O happy father! Felix rightly nam’d! +O favour’d mother! rightly nam’d Joanna! +If that do mean, as men interpret it. +Not for the world’s sake, for which now they pore +Upon Ostiense and Taddeo’s page, +But for the real manna, soon he grew +Mighty in learning, and did set himself +To go about the vineyard, that soon turns +To wan and wither’d, if not tended well: +And from the see (whose bounty to the just +And needy is gone by, not through its fault, +But his who fills it basely, he besought, +No dispensation for commuted wrong, +Nor the first vacant fortune, nor the tenth), +That to God’s paupers rightly appertain, +But, ’gainst an erring and degenerate world, +Licence to fight, in favour of that seed, +From which the twice twelve cions gird thee round. +Then, with sage doctrine and good will to help, +Forth on his great apostleship he far’d, +Like torrent bursting from a lofty vein; +And, dashing ’gainst the stocks of heresy, +Smote fiercest, where resistance was most stout. +Thence many rivulets have since been turn’d, +Over the garden Catholic to lead +Their living waters, and have fed its plants. + +“If such one wheel of that two-yoked car, +Wherein the holy church defended her, +And rode triumphant through the civil broil. +Thou canst not doubt its fellow’s excellence, +Which Thomas, ere my coming, hath declar’d +So courteously unto thee. But the track, +Which its smooth fellies made, is now deserted: +That mouldy mother is where late were lees. +His family, that wont to trace his path, +Turn backward, and invert their steps; erelong +To rue the gathering in of their ill crop, +When the rejected tares in vain shall ask +Admittance to the barn. I question not +But he, who search’d our volume, leaf by leaf, +Might still find page with this inscription on’t, +‘I am as I was wont.’ Yet such were not +From Acquasparta nor Casale, whence +Of those, who come to meddle with the text, +One stretches and another cramps its rule. +Bonaventura’s life in me behold, +From Bagnororegio, one, who in discharge +Of my great offices still laid aside +All sinister aim. Illuminato here, +And Agostino join me: two they were, +Among the first of those barefooted meek ones, +Who sought God’s friendship in the cord: with them +Hugues of Saint Victor, Pietro Mangiadore, +And he of Spain in his twelve volumes shining, +Nathan the prophet, Metropolitan +Chrysostom, and Anselmo, and, who deign’d +To put his hand to the first art, Donatus. +Raban is here: and at my side there shines +Calabria’s abbot, Joachim, endow’d +With soul prophetic. The bright courtesy +Of friar Thomas, and his goodly lore, +Have mov’d me to the blazon of a peer +So worthy, and with me have mov’d this throng.” + + + + +CANTO XIII + + +Let him, who would conceive what now I saw, +Imagine (and retain the image firm, +As mountain rock, the whilst he hears me speak), +Of stars fifteen, from midst the ethereal host +Selected, that, with lively ray serene, +O’ercome the massiest air: thereto imagine +The wain, that, in the bosom of our sky, +Spins ever on its axle night and day, +With the bright summit of that horn which swells +Due from the pole, round which the first wheel rolls, +T’ have rang’d themselves in fashion of two signs +In heav’n, such as Ariadne made, +When death’s chill seized her; and that one of them +Did compass in the other’s beam; and both +In such sort whirl around, that each should tend +With opposite motion and, conceiving thus, +Of that true constellation, and the dance +Twofold, that circled me, he shall attain +As ’twere the shadow; for things there as much +Surpass our usage, as the swiftest heav’n +Is swifter than the Chiana. There was sung +No Bacchus, and no Io Paean, but +Three Persons in the Godhead, and in one +Substance that nature and the human join’d. + +The song fulfill’d its measure; and to us +Those saintly lights attended, happier made +At each new minist’ring. Then silence brake, +Amid th’ accordant sons of Deity, +That luminary, in which the wondrous life +Of the meek man of God was told to me; +And thus it spake: “One ear o’ th’ harvest thresh’d, +And its grain safely stor’d, sweet charity +Invites me with the other to like toil. + +“Thou know’st, that in the bosom, whence the rib +Was ta’en to fashion that fair cheek, whose taste +All the world pays for, and in that, which pierc’d +By the keen lance, both after and before +Such satisfaction offer’d, as outweighs +Each evil in the scale, whate’er of light +To human nature is allow’d, must all +Have by his virtue been infus’d, who form’d +Both one and other: and thou thence admir’st +In that I told thee, of beatitudes +A second, there is none, to his enclos’d +In the fifth radiance. Open now thine eyes +To what I answer thee; and thou shalt see +Thy deeming and my saying meet in truth, +As centre in the round. That which dies not, +And that which can die, are but each the beam +Of that idea, which our Soverign Sire +Engendereth loving; for that lively light, +Which passeth from his brightness; not disjoin’d +From him, nor from his love triune with them, +Doth, through his bounty, congregate itself, +Mirror’d, as ’twere in new existences, +Itself unalterable and ever one. + +“Descending hence unto the lowest powers, +Its energy so sinks, at last it makes +But brief contingencies: for so I name +Things generated, which the heav’nly orbs +Moving, with seed or without seed, produce. +Their wax, and that which molds it, differ much: +And thence with lustre, more or less, it shows +Th’ ideal stamp impress: so that one tree +According to his kind, hath better fruit, +And worse: and, at your birth, ye, mortal men, +Are in your talents various. Were the wax +Molded with nice exactness, and the heav’n +In its disposing influence supreme, +The lustre of the seal should be complete: +But nature renders it imperfect ever, +Resembling thus the artist in her work, +Whose faultering hand is faithless to his skill. +Howe’er, if love itself dispose, and mark +The primal virtue, kindling with bright view, +There all perfection is vouchsafed; and such +The clay was made, accomplish’d with each gift, +That life can teem with; such the burden fill’d +The virgin’s bosom: so that I commend +Thy judgment, that the human nature ne’er +Was or can be, such as in them it was. + +“Did I advance no further than this point, +‘How then had he no peer?’ thou might’st reply. +But, that what now appears not, may appear +Right plainly, ponder, who he was, and what +(When he was bidden ‘Ask’), the motive sway’d +To his requesting. I have spoken thus, +That thou mayst see, he was a king, who ask’d +For wisdom, to the end he might be king +Sufficient: not the number to search out +Of the celestial movers; or to know, +If necessary with contingent e’er +Have made necessity; or whether that +Be granted, that first motion is; or if +Of the mid circle can, by art, be made +Triangle with each corner, blunt or sharp. + +“Whence, noting that, which I have said, and this, +Thou kingly prudence and that ken mayst learn, +At which the dart of my intention aims. +And, marking clearly, that I told thee, ‘Risen,’ +Thou shalt discern it only hath respect +To kings, of whom are many, and the good +Are rare. With this distinction take my words; +And they may well consist with that which thou +Of the first human father dost believe, +And of our well-beloved. And let this +Henceforth be led unto thy feet, to make +Thee slow in motion, as a weary man, +Both to the ‘yea’ and to the ‘nay’ thou seest not. +For he among the fools is down full low, +Whose affirmation, or denial, is +Without distinction, in each case alike +Since it befalls, that in most instances +Current opinion leads to false: and then +Affection bends the judgment to her ply. + +“Much more than vainly doth he loose from shore, +Since he returns not such as he set forth, +Who fishes for the truth and wanteth skill. +And open proofs of this unto the world +Have been afforded in Parmenides, +Melissus, Bryso, and the crowd beside, +Who journey’d on, and knew not whither: so did +Sabellius, Arius, and the other fools, +Who, like to scymitars, reflected back +The scripture-image, by distortion marr’d. + +“Let not the people be too swift to judge, +As one who reckons on the blades in field, +Or ere the crop be ripe. For I have seen +The thorn frown rudely all the winter long +And after bear the rose upon its top; +And bark, that all the way across the sea +Ran straight and speedy, perish at the last, +E’en in the haven’s mouth seeing one steal, +Another brine, his offering to the priest, +Let not Dame Birtha and Sir Martin thence +Into heav’n’s counsels deem that they can pry: +For one of these may rise, the other fall.” + + + + +CANTO XIV + + +From centre to the circle, and so back +From circle to the centre, water moves +In the round chalice, even as the blow +Impels it, inwardly, or from without. +Such was the image glanc’d into my mind, +As the great spirit of Aquinum ceas’d; +And Beatrice after him her words +Resum’d alternate: “Need there is (tho’ yet +He tells it to you not in words, nor e’en +In thought) that he should fathom to its depth +Another mystery. Tell him, if the light, +Wherewith your substance blooms, shall stay with you +Eternally, as now: and, if it doth, +How, when ye shall regain your visible forms, +The sight may without harm endure the change, +That also tell.” As those, who in a ring +Tread the light measure, in their fitful mirth +Raise loud the voice, and spring with gladder bound; +Thus, at the hearing of that pious suit, +The saintly circles in their tourneying +And wond’rous note attested new delight. + +Whoso laments, that we must doff this garb +Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live +Immortally above, he hath not seen +The sweet refreshing, of that heav’nly shower. + +Him, who lives ever, and for ever reigns +In mystic union of the Three in One, +Unbounded, bounding all, each spirit thrice +Sang, with such melody, as but to hear +For highest merit were an ample meed. +And from the lesser orb the goodliest light, +With gentle voice and mild, such as perhaps +The angel’s once to Mary, thus replied: +“Long as the joy of Paradise shall last, +Our love shall shine around that raiment, bright, +As fervent; fervent, as in vision blest; +And that as far in blessedness exceeding, +As it hath grave beyond its virtue great. +Our shape, regarmented with glorious weeds +Of saintly flesh, must, being thus entire, +Show yet more gracious. Therefore shall increase, +Whate’er of light, gratuitous, imparts +The Supreme Good; light, ministering aid, +The better disclose his glory: whence +The vision needs increasing, much increase +The fervour, which it kindles; and that too +The ray, that comes from it. But as the greed +Which gives out flame, yet it its whiteness shines +More lively than that, and so preserves +Its proper semblance; thus this circling sphere +Of splendour, shall to view less radiant seem, +Than shall our fleshly robe, which yonder earth +Now covers. Nor will such excess of light +O’erpower us, in corporeal organs made +Firm, and susceptible of all delight.” + +So ready and so cordial an “Amen,” +Followed from either choir, as plainly spoke +Desire of their dead bodies; yet perchance +Not for themselves, but for their kindred dear, +Mothers and sires, and those whom best they lov’d, +Ere they were made imperishable flame. + +And lo! forthwith there rose up round about +A lustre over that already there, +Of equal clearness, like the brightening up +Of the horizon. As at an evening hour +Of twilight, new appearances through heav’n +Peer with faint glimmer, doubtfully descried; +So there new substances, methought began +To rise in view; and round the other twain +Enwheeling, sweep their ampler circuit wide. + +O gentle glitter of eternal beam! +With what a such whiteness did it flow, +O’erpowering vision in me! But so fair, +So passing lovely, Beatrice show’d, +Mind cannot follow it, nor words express +Her infinite sweetness. Thence mine eyes regain’d +Power to look up, and I beheld myself, +Sole with my lady, to more lofty bliss +Translated: for the star, with warmer smile +Impurpled, well denoted our ascent. + +With all the heart, and with that tongue which speaks +The same in all, an holocaust I made +To God, befitting the new grace vouchsaf’d. +And from my bosom had not yet upsteam’d +The fuming of that incense, when I knew +The rite accepted. With such mighty sheen +And mantling crimson, in two listed rays +The splendours shot before me, that I cried, +“God of Sabaoth! that does prank them thus!” + +As leads the galaxy from pole to pole, +Distinguish’d into greater lights and less, +Its pathway, which the wisest fail to spell; +So thickly studded, in the depth of Mars, +Those rays describ’d the venerable sign, +That quadrants in the round conjoining frame. +Here memory mocks the toil of genius. Christ +Beam’d on that cross; and pattern fails me now. +But whoso takes his cross, and follows Christ +Will pardon me for that I leave untold, +When in the flecker’d dawning he shall spy +The glitterance of Christ. From horn to horn, +And ’tween the summit and the base did move +Lights, scintillating, as they met and pass’d. +Thus oft are seen, with ever-changeful glance, +Straight or athwart, now rapid and now slow, +The atomies of bodies, long or short, +To move along the sunbeam, whose slant line +Checkers the shadow, interpos’d by art +Against the noontide heat. And as the chime +Of minstrel music, dulcimer, and help +With many strings, a pleasant dining makes +To him, who heareth not distinct the note; +So from the lights, which there appear’d to me, +Gather’d along the cross a melody, +That, indistinctly heard, with ravishment +Possess’d me. Yet I mark’d it was a hymn +Of lofty praises; for there came to me +“Arise and conquer,” as to one who hears +And comprehends not. Me such ecstasy +O’ercame, that never till that hour was thing +That held me in so sweet imprisonment. + +Perhaps my saying over bold appears, +Accounting less the pleasure of those eyes, +Whereon to look fulfilleth all desire. +But he, who is aware those living seals +Of every beauty work with quicker force, +The higher they are ris’n; and that there +I had not turn’d me to them; he may well +Excuse me that, whereof in my excuse +I do accuse me, and may own my truth; +That holy pleasure here not yet reveal’d, +Which grows in transport as we mount aloof. + + + + +CANTO XV + + +True love, that ever shows itself as clear +In kindness, as loose appetite in wrong, +Silenced that lyre harmonious, and still’d +The sacred chords, that are by heav’n’s right hand +Unwound and tighten’d, flow to righteous prayers +Should they not hearken, who, to give me will +For praying, in accordance thus were mute? +He hath in sooth good cause for endless grief, +Who, for the love of thing that lasteth not, +Despoils himself forever of that love. + +As oft along the still and pure serene, +At nightfall, glides a sudden trail of fire, +Attracting with involuntary heed +The eye to follow it, erewhile at rest, +And seems some star that shifted place in heav’n, +Only that, whence it kindles, none is lost, +And it is soon extinct; thus from the horn, +That on the dexter of the cross extends, +Down to its foot, one luminary ran +From mid the cluster shone there; yet no gem +Dropp’d from its foil; and through the beamy list +Like flame in alabaster, glow’d its course. + +So forward stretch’d him (if of credence aught +Our greater muse may claim) the pious ghost +Of old Anchises, in the’ Elysian bower, +When he perceiv’d his son. “O thou, my blood! +O most exceeding grace divine! to whom, +As now to thee, hath twice the heav’nly gate +Been e’er unclos’d?” so spake the light; whence I +Turn’d me toward him; then unto my dame +My sight directed, and on either side +Amazement waited me; for in her eyes +Was lighted such a smile, I thought that mine +Had div’d unto the bottom of my grace +And of my bliss in Paradise. Forthwith +To hearing and to sight grateful alike, +The spirit to his proem added things +I understood not, so profound he spake; +Yet not of choice but through necessity +Mysterious; for his high conception scar’d +Beyond the mark of mortals. When the flight +Of holy transport had so spent its rage, +That nearer to the level of our thought +The speech descended, the first sounds I heard +Were, “Best he thou, Triunal Deity! +That hast such favour in my seed vouchsaf’d!” +Then follow’d: “No unpleasant thirst, tho’ long, +Which took me reading in the sacred book, +Whose leaves or white or dusky never change, +Thou hast allay’d, my son, within this light, +From whence my voice thou hear’st; more thanks to her. +Who for such lofty mounting has with plumes +Begirt thee. Thou dost deem thy thoughts to me +From him transmitted, who is first of all, +E’en as all numbers ray from unity; +And therefore dost not ask me who I am, +Or why to thee more joyous I appear, +Than any other in this gladsome throng. +The truth is as thou deem’st; for in this hue +Both less and greater in that mirror look, +In which thy thoughts, or ere thou think’st, are shown. +But, that the love, which keeps me wakeful ever, +Urging with sacred thirst of sweet desire, +May be contended fully, let thy voice, +Fearless, and frank and jocund, utter forth +Thy will distinctly, utter forth the wish, +Whereto my ready answer stands decreed.” + +I turn’d me to Beatrice; and she heard +Ere I had spoken, smiling, an assent, +That to my will gave wings; and I began +“To each among your tribe, what time ye kenn’d +The nature, in whom naught unequal dwells, +Wisdom and love were in one measure dealt; +For that they are so equal in the sun, +From whence ye drew your radiance and your heat, +As makes all likeness scant. But will and means, +In mortals, for the cause ye well discern, +With unlike wings are fledge. A mortal I +Experience inequality like this, +And therefore give no thanks, but in the heart, +For thy paternal greeting. This howe’er +I pray thee, living topaz! that ingemm’st +This precious jewel, let me hear thy name.” + +“I am thy root, O leaf! whom to expect +Even, hath pleas’d me:” thus the prompt reply +Prefacing, next it added; “he, of whom +Thy kindred appellation comes, and who, +These hundred years and more, on its first ledge +Hath circuited the mountain, was my son +And thy great grandsire. Well befits, his long +Endurance should be shorten’d by thy deeds. + +“Florence, within her ancient limit-mark, +Which calls her still to matin prayers and noon, +Was chaste and sober, and abode in peace. +She had no armlets and no head-tires then, +No purfled dames, no zone, that caught the eye +More than the person did. Time was not yet, +When at his daughter’s birth the sire grew pale. +For fear the age and dowry should exceed +On each side just proportion. House was none +Void of its family; nor yet had come +Hardanapalus, to exhibit feats +Of chamber prowess. Montemalo yet +O’er our suburban turret rose; as much +To be surpass in fall, as in its rising. +I saw Bellincione Berti walk abroad +In leathern girdle and a clasp of bone; +And, with no artful colouring on her cheeks, +His lady leave the glass. The sons I saw +Of Nerli and of Vecchio well content +With unrob’d jerkin; and their good dames handling +The spindle and the flax; O happy they! +Each sure of burial in her native land, +And none left desolate a-bed for France! +One wak’d to tend the cradle, hushing it +With sounds that lull’d the parent’s infancy: +Another, with her maidens, drawing off +The tresses from the distaff, lectur’d them +Old tales of Troy and Fesole and Rome. +A Salterello and Cianghella we +Had held as strange a marvel, as ye would +A Cincinnatus or Cornelia now. + +“In such compos’d and seemly fellowship, +Such faithful and such fair equality, +In so sweet household, Mary at my birth +Bestow’d me, call’d on with loud cries; and there +In your old baptistery, I was made +Christian at once and Cacciaguida; as were +My brethren, Eliseo and Moronto. + +“From Valdipado came to me my spouse, +And hence thy surname grew. I follow’d then +The Emperor Conrad; and his knighthood he +Did gird on me; in such good part he took +My valiant service. After him I went +To testify against that evil law, +Whose people, by the shepherd’s fault, possess +Your right, usurping. There, by that foul crew +Was I releas’d from the deceitful world, +Whose base affection many a spirit soils, +And from the martyrdom came to this peace.” + + + + +CANTO XVI + + +O slight respect of man’s nobility! +I never shall account it marvelous, +That our infirm affection here below +Thou mov’st to boasting, when I could not choose, +E’en in that region of unwarp’d desire, +In heav’n itself, but make my vaunt in thee! +Yet cloak thou art soon shorten’d, for that time, +Unless thou be eked out from day to day, +Goes round thee with his shears. Resuming then +With greeting such, as Rome, was first to bear, +But since hath disaccustom’d I began; +And Beatrice, that a little space +Was sever’d, smil’d reminding me of her, +Whose cough embolden’d (as the story holds) +To first offence the doubting Guenever. + +“You are my sire,” said I, “you give me heart +Freely to speak my thought: above myself +You raise me. Through so many streams with joy +My soul is fill’d, that gladness wells from it; +So that it bears the mighty tide, and bursts not +Say then, my honour’d stem! what ancestors +Where those you sprang from, and what years were mark’d +In your first childhood? Tell me of the fold, +That hath Saint John for guardian, what was then +Its state, and who in it were highest seated?” + +As embers, at the breathing of the wind, +Their flame enliven, so that light I saw +Shine at my blandishments; and, as it grew +More fair to look on, so with voice more sweet, +Yet not in this our modern phrase, forthwith +It answer’d: “From the day, when it was said +‘Hail Virgin!’ to the throes, by which my mother, +Who now is sainted, lighten’d her of me +Whom she was heavy with, this fire had come, +Five hundred fifty times and thrice, its beams +To reilumine underneath the foot +Of its own lion. They, of whom I sprang, +And I, had there our birth-place, where the last +Partition of our city first is reach’d +By him, that runs her annual game. Thus much +Suffice of my forefathers: who they were, +And whence they hither came, more honourable +It is to pass in silence than to tell. +All those, who in that time were there from Mars +Until the Baptist, fit to carry arms, +Were but the fifth of them this day alive. +But then the citizen’s blood, that now is mix’d +From Campi and Certaldo and Fighine, +Ran purely through the last mechanic’s veins. +O how much better were it, that these people +Were neighbours to you, and that at Galluzzo +And at Trespiano, ye should have your bound’ry, +Than to have them within, and bear the stench +Of Aguglione’s hind, and Signa’s, him, +That hath his eye already keen for bart’ring! +Had not the people, which of all the world +Degenerates most, been stepdame unto Caesar, +But, as a mother, gracious to her son; +Such one, as hath become a Florentine, +And trades and traffics, had been turn’d adrift +To Simifonte, where his grandsire ply’d +The beggar’s craft. The Conti were possess’d +Of Montemurlo still: the Cerchi still +Were in Acone’s parish; nor had haply +From Valdigrieve past the Buondelmonte. +The city’s malady hath ever source +In the confusion of its persons, as +The body’s, in variety of food: +And the blind bull falls with a steeper plunge, +Than the blind lamb; and oftentimes one sword +Doth more and better execution, +Than five. Mark Luni, Urbisaglia mark, +How they are gone, and after them how go +Chiusi and Sinigaglia; and ’twill seem +No longer new or strange to thee to hear, +That families fail, when cities have their end. +All things, that appertain t’ ye, like yourselves, +Are mortal: but mortality in some +Ye mark not, they endure so long, and you +Pass by so suddenly. And as the moon +Doth, by the rolling of her heav’nly sphere, +Hide and reveal the strand unceasingly; +So fortune deals with Florence. Hence admire not +At what of them I tell thee, whose renown +Time covers, the first Florentines. I saw +The Ughi, Catilini and Filippi, +The Alberichi, Greci and Ormanni, +Now in their wane, illustrious citizens: +And great as ancient, of Sannella him, +With him of Arca saw, and Soldanieri +And Ardinghi, and Bostichi. At the poop, +That now is laden with new felony, +So cumb’rous it may speedily sink the bark, +The Ravignani sat, of whom is sprung +The County Guido, and whoso hath since +His title from the fam’d Bellincione ta’en. +Fair governance was yet an art well priz’d +By him of Pressa: Galigaio show’d +The gilded hilt and pommel, in his house. +The column, cloth’d with verrey, still was seen +Unshaken: the Sacchetti still were great, +Giouchi, Sifanti, Galli and Barucci, +With them who blush to hear the bushel nam’d. +Of the Calfucci still the branchy trunk +Was in its strength: and to the curule chairs +Sizii and Arigucci yet were drawn. +How mighty them I saw, whom since their pride +Hath undone! and in all her goodly deeds +Florence was by the bullets of bright gold +O’erflourish’d. Such the sires of those, who now, +As surely as your church is vacant, flock +Into her consistory, and at leisure +There stall them and grow fat. The o’erweening brood, +That plays the dragon after him that flees, +But unto such, as turn and show the tooth, +Ay or the purse, is gentle as a lamb, +Was on its rise, but yet so slight esteem’d, +That Ubertino of Donati grudg’d +His father-in-law should yoke him to its tribe. +Already Caponsacco had descended +Into the mart from Fesole: and Giuda +And Infangato were good citizens. +A thing incredible I tell, tho’ true: +The gateway, named from those of Pera, led +Into the narrow circuit of your walls. +Each one, who bears the sightly quarterings +Of the great Baron (he whose name and worth +The festival of Thomas still revives) +His knighthood and his privilege retain’d; +Albeit one, who borders them With gold, +This day is mingled with the common herd. +In Borgo yet the Gualterotti dwelt, +And Importuni: well for its repose +Had it still lack’d of newer neighbourhood. +The house, from whence your tears have had their spring, +Through the just anger that hath murder’d ye +And put a period to your gladsome days, +Was honour’d, it, and those consorted with it. +O Buondelmonte! what ill counseling +Prevail’d on thee to break the plighted bond +Many, who now are weeping, would rejoice, +Had God to Ema giv’n thee, the first time +Thou near our city cam’st. But so was doom’d: +On that maim’d stone set up to guard the bridge, +At thy last peace, the victim, Florence! fell. +With these and others like to them, I saw +Florence in such assur’d tranquility, +She had no cause at which to grieve: with these +Saw her so glorious and so just, that ne’er +The lily from the lance had hung reverse, +Or through division been with vermeil dyed.” + + + + +CANTO XVII + + +Such as the youth, who came to Clymene +To certify himself of that reproach, +Which had been fasten’d on him, (he whose end +Still makes the fathers chary to their sons), +E’en such was I; nor unobserv’d was such +Of Beatrice, and that saintly lamp, +Who had erewhile for me his station mov’d; +When thus by lady: “Give thy wish free vent, +That it may issue, bearing true report +Of the mind’s impress; not that aught thy words +May to our knowledge add, but to the end, +That thou mayst use thyself to own thy thirst +And men may mingle for thee when they hear.” + +“O plant! from whence I spring! rever’d and lov’d! +Who soar’st so high a pitch, thou seest as clear, +As earthly thought determines two obtuse +In one triangle not contain’d, so clear +Dost see contingencies, ere in themselves +Existent, looking at the point whereto +All times are present, I, the whilst I scal’d +With Virgil the soul purifying mount, +And visited the nether world of woe, +Touching my future destiny have heard +Words grievous, though I feel me on all sides +Well squar’d to fortune’s blows. Therefore my will +Were satisfied to know the lot awaits me, +The arrow, seen beforehand, slacks its flight.” + +So said I to the brightness, which erewhile +To me had spoken, and my will declar’d, +As Beatrice will’d, explicitly. +Nor with oracular response obscure, +Such, as or ere the Lamb of God was slain, +Beguil’d the credulous nations; but, in terms +Precise and unambiguous lore, replied +The spirit of paternal love, enshrin’d, +Yet in his smile apparent; and thus spake: +“Contingency, unfolded not to view +Upon the tablet of your mortal mold, +Is all depictur’d in the’ eternal sight; +But hence deriveth not necessity, +More then the tall ship, hurried down the flood, +Doth from the vision, that reflects the scene. +From thence, as to the ear sweet harmony +From organ comes, so comes before mine eye +The time prepar’d for thee. Such as driv’n out +From Athens, by his cruel stepdame’s wiles, +Hippolytus departed, such must thou +Depart from Florence. This they wish, and this +Contrive, and will ere long effectuate, there, +Where gainful merchandize is made of Christ, +Throughout the livelong day. The common cry, +Will, as ’tis ever wont, affix the blame +Unto the party injur’d: but the truth +Shall, in the vengeance it dispenseth, find +A faithful witness. Thou shall leave each thing +Belov’d most dearly: this is the first shaft +Shot from the bow of exile. Thou shalt prove +How salt the savour is of other’s bread, +How hard the passage to descend and climb +By other’s stairs, But that shall gall thee most +Will be the worthless and vile company, +With whom thou must be thrown into these straits. +For all ungrateful, impious all and mad, +Shall turn ’gainst thee: but in a little while +Theirs and not thine shall be the crimson’d brow +Their course shall so evince their brutishness +T’ have ta’en thy stand apart shall well become thee. + +“First refuge thou must find, first place of rest, +In the great Lombard’s courtesy, who bears +Upon the ladder perch’d the sacred bird. +He shall behold thee with such kind regard, +That ’twixt ye two, the contrary to that +Which falls ’twixt other men, the granting shall +Forerun the asking. With him shalt thou see +That mortal, who was at his birth impress +So strongly from this star, that of his deeds +The nations shall take note. His unripe age +Yet holds him from observance; for these wheels +Only nine years have compass him about. +But, ere the Gascon practice on great Harry, +Sparkles of virtue shall shoot forth in him, +In equal scorn of labours and of gold. +His bounty shall be spread abroad so widely, +As not to let the tongues e’en of his foes +Be idle in its praise. Look thou to him +And his beneficence: for he shall cause +Reversal of their lot to many people, +Rich men and beggars interchanging fortunes. +And thou shalt bear this written in thy soul +Of him, but tell it not;” and things he told +Incredible to those who witness them; +Then added: “So interpret thou, my son, +What hath been told thee.—Lo! the ambushment +That a few circling seasons hide for thee! +Yet envy not thy neighbours: time extends +Thy span beyond their treason’s chastisement.” + +Soon, as the saintly spirit, by his silence, +Had shown the web, which I had streteh’d for him +Upon the warp, was woven, I began, +As one, who in perplexity desires +Counsel of other, wise, benign and friendly: +“My father! well I mark how time spurs on +Toward me, ready to inflict the blow, +Which falls most heavily on him, who most +Abandoned himself. Therefore ’tis good +I should forecast, that driven from the place +Most dear to me, I may not lose myself +All others by my song. Down through the world +Of infinite mourning, and along the mount +From whose fair height my lady’s eyes did lift me, +And after through this heav’n from light to light, +Have I learnt that, which if I tell again, +It may with many woefully disrelish; +And, if I am a timid friend to truth, +I fear my life may perish among those, +To whom these days shall be of ancient date.” + +The brightness, where enclos’d the treasure smil’d, +Which I had found there, first shone glisteningly, +Like to a golden mirror in the sun; +Next answer’d: “Conscience, dimm’d or by its own +Or other’s shame, will feel thy saying sharp. +Thou, notwithstanding, all deceit remov’d, +See the whole vision be made manifest. +And let them wince who have their withers wrung. +What though, when tasted first, thy voice shall prove +Unwelcome, on digestion it will turn +To vital nourishment. The cry thou raisest, +Shall, as the wind doth, smite the proudest summits; +Which is of honour no light argument, +For this there only have been shown to thee, +Throughout these orbs, the mountain, and the deep, +Spirits, whom fame hath note of. For the mind +Of him, who hears, is loth to acquiesce +And fix its faith, unless the instance brought +Be palpable, and proof apparent urge.” + + + + +CANTO XVIII + + +Now in his word, sole, ruminating, joy’d +That blessed spirit; and I fed on mine, +Tempting the sweet with bitter: she meanwhile, +Who led me unto God, admonish’d: “Muse +On other thoughts: bethink thee, that near Him +I dwell, who recompenseth every wrong.” + +At the sweet sounds of comfort straight I turn’d; +And, in the saintly eyes what love was seen, +I leave in silence here: nor through distrust +Of my words only, but that to such bliss +The mind remounts not without aid. Thus much +Yet may I speak; that, as I gaz’d on her, +Affection found no room for other wish. +While the everlasting pleasure, that did full +On Beatrice shine, with second view +From her fair countenance my gladden’d soul +Contented; vanquishing me with a beam +Of her soft smile, she spake: “Turn thee, and list. +These eyes are not thy only Paradise.” + +As here we sometimes in the looks may see +Th’ affection mark’d, when that its sway hath ta’en +The spirit wholly; thus the hallow’d light, +To whom I turn’d, flashing, bewray’d its will +To talk yet further with me, and began: +“On this fifth lodgment of the tree, whose life +Is from its top, whose fruit is ever fair +And leaf unwith’ring, blessed spirits abide, +That were below, ere they arriv’d in heav’n, +So mighty in renown, as every muse +Might grace her triumph with them. On the horns +Look therefore of the cross: he, whom I name, +Shall there enact, as doth in summer cloud +Its nimble fire.” Along the cross I saw, +At the repeated name of Joshua, +A splendour gliding; nor, the word was said, +Ere it was done: then, at the naming saw +Of the great Maccabee, another move +With whirling speed; and gladness was the scourge +Unto that top. The next for Charlemagne +And for the peer Orlando, two my gaze +Pursued, intently, as the eye pursues +A falcon flying. Last, along the cross, +William, and Renard, and Duke Godfrey drew +My ken, and Robert Guiscard. And the soul, +Who spake with me among the other lights +Did move away, and mix; and with the choir +Of heav’nly songsters prov’d his tuneful skill. + +To Beatrice on my right l bent, +Looking for intimation or by word +Or act, what next behoov’d; and did descry +Such mere effulgence in her eyes, such joy, +It past all former wont. And, as by sense +Of new delight, the man, who perseveres +In good deeds doth perceive from day to day +His virtue growing; I e’en thus perceiv’d +Of my ascent, together with the heav’n +The circuit widen’d, noting the increase +Of beauty in that wonder. Like the change +In a brief moment on some maiden’s cheek, +Which from its fairness doth discharge the weight +Of pudency, that stain’d it; such in her, +And to mine eyes so sudden was the change, +Through silvery whiteness of that temperate star, +Whose sixth orb now enfolded us. I saw, +Within that Jovial cresset, the clear sparks +Of love, that reign’d there, fashion to my view +Our language. And as birds, from river banks +Arisen, now in round, now lengthen’d troop, +Array them in their flight, greeting, as seems, +Their new-found pastures; so, within the lights, +The saintly creatures flying, sang, and made +Now D. now I. now L. figur’d I’ th’ air. + +First, singing, to their notes they mov’d, then one +Becoming of these signs, a little while +Did rest them, and were mute. O nymph divine +Of Pegasean race! whose souls, which thou +Inspir’st, mak’st glorious and long-liv’d, as they +Cities and realms by thee! thou with thyself +Inform me; that I may set forth the shapes, +As fancy doth present them. Be thy power +Display’d in this brief song. The characters, +Vocal and consonant, were five-fold seven. +In order each, as they appear’d, I mark’d. +Diligite Justitiam, the first, +Both verb and noun all blazon’d; and the extreme +Qui judicatis terram. In the M. +Of the fifth word they held their station, +Making the star seem silver streak’d with gold. +And on the summit of the M. I saw +Descending other lights, that rested there, +Singing, methinks, their bliss and primal good. +Then, as at shaking of a lighted brand, +Sparkles innumerable on all sides +Rise scatter’d, source of augury to th’ unwise; +Thus more than thousand twinkling lustres hence +Seem’d reascending, and a higher pitch +Some mounting, and some less; e’en as the sun, +Which kindleth them, decreed. And when each one +Had settled in his place, the head and neck +Then saw I of an eagle, lively +Grav’d in that streaky fire. Who painteth there, +Hath none to guide him; of himself he guides; +And every line and texture of the nest +Doth own from him the virtue, fashions it. +The other bright beatitude, that seem’d +Erewhile, with lilied crowning, well content +To over-canopy the M. mov’d forth, +Following gently the impress of the bird. + + Sweet star! what glorious and thick-studded gems +Declar’d to me our justice on the earth +To be the effluence of that heav’n, which thou, +Thyself a costly jewel, dost inlay! +Therefore I pray the Sovran Mind, from whom +Thy motion and thy virtue are begun, +That he would look from whence the fog doth rise, +To vitiate thy beam: so that once more +He may put forth his hand ’gainst such, as drive +Their traffic in that sanctuary, whose walls +With miracles and martyrdoms were built. + +Ye host of heaven! whose glory I survey! +O beg ye grace for those, that are on earth +All after ill example gone astray. +War once had for its instrument the sword: +But now ’tis made, taking the bread away +Which the good Father locks from none.—And thou, +That writes but to cancel, think, that they, +Who for the vineyard, which thou wastest, died, +Peter and Paul live yet, and mark thy doings. +Thou hast good cause to cry, “My heart so cleaves +To him, that liv’d in solitude remote, +And from the wilds was dragg’d to martyrdom, +I wist not of the fisherman nor Paul.” + + + + +CANTO XIX + + +Before my sight appear’d, with open wings, +The beauteous image, in fruition sweet +Gladdening the thronged spirits. Each did seem +A little ruby, whereon so intense +The sun-beam glow’d that to mine eyes it came +In clear refraction. And that, which next +Befalls me to portray, voice hath not utter’d, +Nor hath ink written, nor in fantasy +Was e’er conceiv’d. For I beheld and heard +The beak discourse; and, what intention form’d +Of many, singly as of one express, +Beginning: “For that I was just and piteous, +l am exalted to this height of glory, +The which no wish exceeds: and there on earth +Have I my memory left, e’en by the bad +Commended, while they leave its course untrod.” + +Thus is one heat from many embers felt, +As in that image many were the loves, +And one the voice, that issued from them all. +Whence I address them: “O perennial flowers +Of gladness everlasting! that exhale +In single breath your odours manifold! +Breathe now; and let the hunger be appeas’d, +That with great craving long hath held my soul, +Finding no food on earth. This well I know, +That if there be in heav’n a realm, that shows +In faithful mirror the celestial Justice, +Yours without veil reflects it. Ye discern +The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself +To hearken; ye the doubt that urges me +With such inveterate craving.” Straight I saw, +Like to a falcon issuing from the hood, +That rears his head, and claps him with his wings, +His beauty and his eagerness bewraying. +So saw I move that stately sign, with praise +Of grace divine inwoven and high song +Of inexpressive joy. “He,” it began, +“Who turn’d his compass on the world’s extreme, +And in that space so variously hath wrought, +Both openly, and in secret, in such wise +Could not through all the universe display +Impression of his glory, that the Word +Of his omniscience should not still remain +In infinite excess. In proof whereof, +He first through pride supplanted, who was sum +Of each created being, waited not +For light celestial, and abortive fell. +Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant +Receptacle unto that Good, which knows +No limit, measur’d by itself alone. +Therefore your sight, of th’ omnipresent Mind +A single beam, its origin must own +Surpassing far its utmost potency. +The ken, your world is gifted with, descends +In th’ everlasting Justice as low down, +As eye doth in the sea; which though it mark +The bottom from the shore, in the wide main +Discerns it not; and ne’ertheless it is, +But hidden through its deepness. Light is none, +Save that which cometh from the pure serene +Of ne’er disturbed ether: for the rest, +’Tis darkness all, or shadow of the flesh, +Or else its poison. Here confess reveal’d +That covert, which hath hidden from thy search +The living justice, of the which thou mad’st +Such frequent question; for thou saidst—‘A man +Is born on Indus’ banks, and none is there +Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write, +And all his inclinations and his acts, +As far as human reason sees, are good, +And he offendeth not in word or deed. +But unbaptiz’d he dies, and void of faith. +Where is the justice that condemns him? where +His blame, if he believeth not?’—What then, +And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit +To judge at distance of a thousand miles +With the short-sighted vision of a span? +To him, who subtilizes thus with me, +There would assuredly be room for doubt +Even to wonder, did not the safe word +Of scripture hold supreme authority. + +“O animals of clay! O spirits gross I +The primal will, that in itself is good, +Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne’er been mov’d. +Justice consists in consonance with it, +Derivable by no created good, +Whose very cause depends upon its beam.” + +As on her nest the stork, that turns about +Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed, +While they with upward eyes do look on her; +So lifted I my gaze; and bending so +The ever-blessed image wav’d its wings, +Lab’ring with such deep counsel. Wheeling round +It warbled, and did say: “As are my notes +To thee, who understand’st them not, such is +Th’ eternal judgment unto mortal ken.” + +Then still abiding in that ensign rang’d, +Wherewith the Romans over-awed the world, +Those burning splendours of the Holy Spirit +Took up the strain; and thus it spake again: +“None ever hath ascended to this realm, +Who hath not a believer been in Christ, +Either before or after the blest limbs +Were nail’d upon the wood. But lo! of those +Who call ‘Christ, Christ,’ there shall be many found, + In judgment, further off from him by far, +Than such, to whom his name was never known. +Christians like these the Ethiop shall condemn: +When that the two assemblages shall part; +One rich eternally, the other poor. + +“What may the Persians say unto your kings, +When they shall see that volume, in the which +All their dispraise is written, spread to view? +There amidst Albert’s works shall that be read, +Which will give speedy motion to the pen, +When Prague shall mourn her desolated realm. +There shall be read the woe, that he doth work +With his adulterate money on the Seine, +Who by the tusk will perish: there be read +The thirsting pride, that maketh fool alike +The English and Scot, impatient of their bound. +There shall be seen the Spaniard’s luxury, +The delicate living there of the Bohemian, +Who still to worth has been a willing stranger. +The halter of Jerusalem shall see +A unit for his virtue, for his vices +No less a mark than million. He, who guards +The isle of fire by old Anchises honour’d +Shall find his avarice there and cowardice; +And better to denote his littleness, +The writing must be letters maim’d, that speak +Much in a narrow space. All there shall know +His uncle and his brother’s filthy doings, +Who so renown’d a nation and two crowns +Have bastardized. And they, of Portugal +And Norway, there shall be expos’d with him +Of Ratza, who hath counterfeited ill +The coin of Venice. O blest Hungary! +If thou no longer patiently abid’st +Thy ill-entreating! and, O blest Navarre! +If with thy mountainous girdle thou wouldst arm thee +In earnest of that day, e’en now are heard +Wailings and groans in Famagosta’s streets +And Nicosia’s, grudging at their beast, +Who keepeth even footing with the rest.” + + + + +CANTO XX + + +When, disappearing, from our hemisphere, +The world’s enlightener vanishes, and day +On all sides wasteth, suddenly the sky, +Erewhile irradiate only with his beam, +Is yet again unfolded, putting forth +Innumerable lights wherein one shines. +Of such vicissitude in heaven I thought, +As the great sign, that marshaleth the world +And the world’s leaders, in the blessed beak +Was silent; for that all those living lights, +Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs, +Such as from memory glide and fall away. + +Sweet love! that dost apparel thee in smiles, +How lustrous was thy semblance in those sparkles, +Which merely are from holy thoughts inspir’d! + +After the precious and bright beaming stones, +That did ingem the sixth light, ceas’d the chiming +Of their angelic bells; methought I heard +The murmuring of a river, that doth fall +From rock to rock transpicuous, making known +The richness of his spring-head: and as sound +Of cistern, at the fret-board, or of pipe, +Is, at the wind-hole, modulate and tun’d; +Thus up the neck, as it were hollow, rose +That murmuring of the eagle, and forthwith +Voice there assum’d, and thence along the beak +Issued in form of words, such as my heart +Did look for, on whose tables I inscrib’d them. + +“The part in me, that sees, and bears the sun,, +In mortal eagles,” it began, “must now +Be noted steadfastly: for of the fires, +That figure me, those, glittering in mine eye, +Are chief of all the greatest. This, that shines +Midmost for pupil, was the same, who sang +The Holy Spirit’s song, and bare about +The ark from town to town; now doth he know +The merit of his soul-impassion’d strains +By their well-fitted guerdon. Of the five, +That make the circle of the vision, he +Who to the beak is nearest, comforted +The widow for her son: now doth he know +How dear he costeth not to follow Christ, +Both from experience of this pleasant life, +And of its opposite. He next, who follows +In the circumference, for the over arch, +By true repenting slack’d the pace of death: +Now knoweth he, that the degrees of heav’n +Alter not, when through pious prayer below +Today’s is made tomorrow’s destiny. +The other following, with the laws and me, +To yield the shepherd room, pass’d o’er to Greece, +From good intent producing evil fruit: +Now knoweth he, how all the ill, deriv’d +From his well doing, doth not helm him aught, +Though it have brought destruction on the world. +That, which thou seest in the under bow, +Was William, whom that land bewails, which weeps +For Charles and Frederick living: now he knows +How well is lov’d in heav’n the righteous king, +Which he betokens by his radiant seeming. +Who in the erring world beneath would deem, +That Trojan Ripheus in this round was set +Fifth of the saintly splendours? now he knows +Enough of that, which the world cannot see, +The grace divine, albeit e’en his sight +Reach not its utmost depth.” Like to the lark, +That warbling in the air expatiates long, +Then, trilling out his last sweet melody, +Drops satiate with the sweetness; such appear’d +That image stampt by the’ everlasting pleasure, +Which fashions like itself all lovely things. + +I, though my doubting were as manifest, +As is through glass the hue that mantles it, +In silence waited not: for to my lips +“What things are these?” involuntary rush’d, +And forc’d a passage out: whereat I mark’d +A sudden lightening and new revelry. +The eye was kindled: and the blessed sign +No more to keep me wond’ring and suspense, +Replied: “I see that thou believ’st these things, +Because I tell them, but discern’st not how; +So that thy knowledge waits not on thy faith: +As one who knows the name of thing by rote, +But is a stranger to its properties, +Till other’s tongue reveal them. Fervent love +And lively hope with violence assail +The kingdom of the heavens, and overcome +The will of the Most high; not in such sort +As man prevails o’er man; but conquers it, +Because ’tis willing to be conquer’d, still, +Though conquer’d, by its mercy conquering. + +“Those, in the eye who live the first and fifth, +Cause thee to marvel, in that thou behold’st +The region of the angels deck’d with them. +They quitted not their bodies, as thou deem’st, +Gentiles but Christians, in firm rooted faith, +This of the feet in future to be pierc’d, +That of feet nail’d already to the cross. +One from the barrier of the dark abyss, +Where never any with good will returns, +Came back unto his bones. Of lively hope +Such was the meed; of lively hope, that wing’d +The prayers sent up to God for his release, +And put power into them to bend his will. +The glorious Spirit, of whom I speak to thee, +A little while returning to the flesh, +Believ’d in him, who had the means to help, +And, in believing, nourish’d such a flame +Of holy love, that at the second death +He was made sharer in our gamesome mirth. +The other, through the riches of that grace, +Which from so deep a fountain doth distil, +As never eye created saw its rising, +Plac’d all his love below on just and right: +Wherefore of grace God op’d in him the eye +To the redemption of mankind to come; +Wherein believing, he endur’d no more +The filth of paganism, and for their ways +Rebuk’d the stubborn nations. The three nymphs, +Whom at the right wheel thou beheldst advancing, +Were sponsors for him more than thousand years +Before baptizing. O how far remov’d, +Predestination! is thy root from such +As see not the First cause entire: and ye, +O mortal men! be wary how ye judge: +For we, who see our Maker, know not yet +The number of the chosen: and esteem +Such scantiness of knowledge our delight: +For all our good is in that primal good +Concentrate, and God’s will and ours are one.” + +So, by that form divine, was giv’n to me +Sweet medicine to clear and strengthen sight, +And, as one handling skillfully the harp, +Attendant on some skilful songster’s voice +Bids the chords vibrate, and therein the song +Acquires more pleasure; so, the whilst it spake, +It doth remember me, that I beheld +The pair of blessed luminaries move. +Like the accordant twinkling of two eyes, +Their beamy circlets, dancing to the sounds. + + + + +CANTO XXI + + +Again mine eyes were fix’d on Beatrice, +And with mine eyes my soul, that in her looks +Found all contentment. Yet no smile she wore +And, “Did I smile,” quoth she, “thou wouldst be straight +Like Semele when into ashes turn’d: +For, mounting these eternal palace-stairs, +My beauty, which the loftier it climbs, +As thou hast noted, still doth kindle more, +So shines, that, were no temp’ring interpos’d, +Thy mortal puissance would from its rays +Shrink, as the leaf doth from the thunderbolt. +Into the seventh splendour are we wafted, +That underneath the burning lion’s breast +Beams, in this hour, commingled with his might, +Thy mind be with thine eyes: and in them mirror’d +The shape, which in this mirror shall be shown.” +Whoso can deem, how fondly I had fed +My sight upon her blissful countenance, +May know, when to new thoughts I chang’d, what joy +To do the bidding of my heav’nly guide: +In equal balance poising either weight. + +Within the crystal, which records the name, +(As its remoter circle girds the world) +Of that lov’d monarch, in whose happy reign +No ill had power to harm, I saw rear’d up, +In colour like to sun-illumin’d gold. + +A ladder, which my ken pursued in vain, +So lofty was the summit; down whose steps +I saw the splendours in such multitude +Descending, ev’ry light in heav’n, methought, +Was shed thence. As the rooks, at dawn of day +Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill, +Some speed their way a-field, and homeward some, +Returning, cross their flight, while some abide +And wheel around their airy lodge; so seem’d +That glitterance, wafted on alternate wing, +As upon certain stair it met, and clash’d +Its shining. And one ling’ring near us, wax’d +So bright, that in my thought: said: “The love, +Which this betokens me, admits no doubt.” + +Unwillingly from question I refrain, +To her, by whom my silence and my speech +Are order’d, looking for a sign: whence she, +Who in the sight of Him, that seeth all, +Saw wherefore I was silent, prompted me +T’ indulge the fervent wish; and I began: +“I am not worthy, of my own desert, +That thou shouldst answer me; but for her sake, +Who hath vouchsaf’d my asking, spirit blest! +That in thy joy art shrouded! say the cause, +Which bringeth thee so near: and wherefore, say, +Doth the sweet symphony of Paradise +Keep silence here, pervading with such sounds +Of rapt devotion ev’ry lower sphere?” +“Mortal art thou in hearing as in sight;” +Was the reply: “and what forbade the smile +Of Beatrice interrupts our song. +Only to yield thee gladness of my voice, +And of the light that vests me, I thus far +Descend these hallow’d steps: not that more love +Invites me; for lo! there aloft, as much +Or more of love is witness’d in those flames: +But such my lot by charity assign’d, +That makes us ready servants, as thou seest, +To execute the counsel of the Highest.” +“That in this court,” said I, “O sacred lamp! +Love no compulsion needs, but follows free +Th’ eternal Providence, I well discern: +This harder find to deem, why of thy peers +Thou only to this office wert foredoom’d.” +I had not ended, when, like rapid mill, +Upon its centre whirl’d the light; and then +The love, that did inhabit there, replied: +“Splendour eternal, piercing through these folds, +Its virtue to my vision knits, and thus +Supported, lifts me so above myself, +That on the sov’ran essence, which it wells from, +I have the power to gaze: and hence the joy, +Wherewith I sparkle, equaling with my blaze +The keenness of my sight. But not the soul, +That is in heav’n most lustrous, nor the seraph +That hath his eyes most fix’d on God, shall solve +What thou hast ask’d: for in th’ abyss it lies +Of th’ everlasting statute sunk so low, +That no created ken may fathom it. +And, to the mortal world when thou return’st, +Be this reported; that none henceforth dare +Direct his footsteps to so dread a bourn. +The mind, that here is radiant, on the earth +Is wrapt in mist. Look then if she may do, +Below, what passeth her ability, +When she is ta’en to heav’n.” By words like these +Admonish’d, I the question urg’d no more; +And of the spirit humbly sued alone +T’ instruct me of its state. “’Twixt either shore +Of Italy, nor distant from thy land, +A stony ridge ariseth, in such sort, +The thunder doth not lift his voice so high, +They call it Catria: at whose foot a cell +Is sacred to the lonely Eremite, +For worship set apart and holy rites.” +A third time thus it spake; then added: “There +So firmly to God’s service I adher’d, +That with no costlier viands than the juice +Of olives, easily I pass’d the heats +Of summer and the winter frosts, content +In heav’n-ward musings. Rich were the returns +And fertile, which that cloister once was us’d +To render to these heavens: now ’tis fall’n +Into a waste so empty, that ere long +Detection must lay bare its vanity +Pietro Damiano there was I yclept: +Pietro the sinner, when before I dwelt +Beside the Adriatic, in the house +Of our blest Lady. Near upon my close +Of mortal life, through much importuning +I was constrain’d to wear the hat that still +From bad to worse it shifted.—Cephas came; +He came, who was the Holy Spirit’s vessel, +Barefoot and lean, eating their bread, as chanc’d, +At the first table. Modern Shepherd’s need +Those who on either hand may prop and lead them, +So burly are they grown: and from behind +Others to hoist them. Down the palfrey’s sides +Spread their broad mantles, so as both the beasts +Are cover’d with one skin. O patience! thou +That lookst on this and doth endure so long.” +I at those accents saw the splendours down +From step to step alight, and wheel, and wax, +Each circuiting, more beautiful. Round this +They came, and stay’d them; uttered them a shout +So loud, it hath no likeness here: nor I +Wist what it spake, so deaf’ning was the thunder. + + + + +CANTO XXII + + +Astounded, to the guardian of my steps +I turn’d me, like the chill, who always runs +Thither for succour, where he trusteth most, +And she was like the mother, who her son +Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice +Soothes him, and he is cheer’d; for thus she spake, +Soothing me: “Know’st not thou, thou art in heav’n? +And know’st not thou, whatever is in heav’n, +Is holy, and that nothing there is done +But is done zealously and well? Deem now, +What change in thee the song, and what my smile +had wrought, since thus the shout had pow’r to move thee. +In which couldst thou have understood their prayers, +The vengeance were already known to thee, +Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour, +The sword of heav’n is not in haste to smite, +Nor yet doth linger, save unto his seeming, +Who in desire or fear doth look for it. +But elsewhere now l bid thee turn thy view; +So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold.” +Mine eyes directing, as she will’d, I saw +A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew +By interchange of splendour. I remain’d, +As one, who fearful of o’er-much presuming, +Abates in him the keenness of desire, +Nor dares to question, when amid those pearls, +One largest and most lustrous onward drew, +That it might yield contentment to my wish; +And from within it these the sounds I heard. + +“If thou, like me, beheldst the charity +That burns amongst us, what thy mind conceives, +Were utter’d. But that, ere the lofty bound +Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee, +I will make answer even to the thought, +Which thou hast such respect of. In old days, +That mountain, at whose side Cassino rests, +Was on its height frequented by a race +Deceived and ill dispos’d: and I it was, +Who thither carried first the name of Him, +Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man. +And such a speeding grace shone over me, +That from their impious worship I reclaim’d +The dwellers round about, who with the world +Were in delusion lost. These other flames, +The spirits of men contemplative, were all +Enliven’d by that warmth, whose kindly force +Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness. +Here is Macarius; Romoaldo here: +And here my brethren, who their steps refrain’d +Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart.” + +I answ’ring, thus; “Thy gentle words and kind, +And this the cheerful semblance, I behold +Not unobservant, beaming in ye all, +Have rais’d assurance in me, wakening it +Full-blossom’d in my bosom, as a rose +Before the sun, when the consummate flower +Has spread to utmost amplitude. Of thee +Therefore entreat I, father! to declare +If I may gain such favour, as to gaze +Upon thine image, by no covering veil’d.” + +“Brother!” he thus rejoin’d, “in the last sphere +Expect completion of thy lofty aim, +For there on each desire completion waits, +And there on mine: where every aim is found +Perfect, entire, and for fulfillment ripe. +There all things are as they have ever been: +For space is none to bound, nor pole divides, +Our ladder reaches even to that clime, +And so at giddy distance mocks thy view. +Thither the Patriarch Jacob saw it stretch +Its topmost round, when it appear’d to him +With angels laden. But to mount it now +None lifts his foot from earth: and hence my rule +Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves; +The walls, for abbey rear’d, turned into dens, +The cowls to sacks choak’d up with musty meal. +Foul usury doth not more lift itself +Against God’s pleasure, than that fruit which makes +The hearts of monks so wanton: for whate’er +Is in the church’s keeping, all pertains. +To such, as sue for heav’n’s sweet sake, and not +To those who in respect of kindred claim, +Or on more vile allowance. Mortal flesh +Is grown so dainty, good beginnings last not +From the oak’s birth, unto the acorn’s setting. +His convent Peter founded without gold +Or silver; I with pray’rs and fasting mine; +And Francis his in meek humility. +And if thou note the point, whence each proceeds, +Then look what it hath err’d to, thou shalt find +The white grown murky. Jordan was turn’d back; +And a less wonder, then the refluent sea, +May at God’s pleasure work amendment here.” + +So saying, to his assembly back he drew: +And they together cluster’d into one, +Then all roll’d upward like an eddying wind. + +The sweet dame beckon’d me to follow them: +And, by that influence only, so prevail’d +Over my nature, that no natural motion, +Ascending or descending here below, +Had, as I mounted, with my pennon vied. + +So, reader, as my hope is to return +Unto the holy triumph, for the which +I ofttimes wail my sins, and smite my breast, +Thou hadst been longer drawing out and thrusting +Thy finger in the fire, than I was, ere +The sign, that followeth Taurus, I beheld, +And enter’d its precinct. O glorious stars! +O light impregnate with exceeding virtue! +To whom whate’er of genius lifteth me +Above the vulgar, grateful I refer; +With ye the parent of all mortal life +Arose and set, when I did first inhale +The Tuscan air; and afterward, when grace +Vouchsaf’d me entrance to the lofty wheel +That in its orb impels ye, fate decreed +My passage at your clime. To you my soul +Devoutly sighs, for virtue even now +To meet the hard emprize that draws me on. + +“Thou art so near the sum of blessedness,” +Said Beatrice, “that behooves thy ken +Be vigilant and clear. And, to this end, +Or even thou advance thee further, hence +Look downward, and contemplate, what a world +Already stretched under our feet there lies: +So as thy heart may, in its blithest mood, +Present itself to the triumphal throng, +Which through the’ etherial concave comes rejoicing.” + +I straight obey’d; and with mine eye return’d +Through all the seven spheres, and saw this globe +So pitiful of semblance, that perforce +It moved my smiles: and him in truth I hold +For wisest, who esteems it least: whose thoughts +Elsewhere are fix’d, him worthiest call and best. +I saw the daughter of Latona shine +Without the shadow, whereof late I deem’d +That dense and rare were cause. Here I sustain’d +The visage, Hyperion! of thy sun; +And mark’d, how near him with their circle, round +Move Maia and Dione; here discern’d +Jove’s tempering ’twixt his sire and son; and hence +Their changes and their various aspects +Distinctly scann’d. Nor might I not descry +Of all the seven, how bulky each, how swift; +Nor of their several distances not learn. +This petty area (o’er the which we stride +So fiercely), as along the eternal twins +I wound my way, appear’d before me all, +Forth from the havens stretch’d unto the hills. +Then to the beauteous eyes mine eyes return’d. + + + + +CANTO XXIII + + +E’en as the bird, who midst the leafy bower +Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night, +With her sweet brood, impatient to descry +Their wished looks, and to bring home their food, +In the fond quest unconscious of her toil: +She, of the time prevenient, on the spray, +That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze +Expects the sun; nor ever, till the dawn, +Removeth from the east her eager ken; +So stood the dame erect, and bent her glance +Wistfully on that region, where the sun +Abateth most his speed; that, seeing her +Suspense and wand’ring, I became as one, +In whom desire is waken’d, and the hope +Of somewhat new to come fills with delight. + +Short space ensued; I was not held, I say, +Long in expectance, when I saw the heav’n +Wax more and more resplendent; and, “Behold,” +Cried Beatrice, “the triumphal hosts +Of Christ, and all the harvest reap’d at length +Of thy ascending up these spheres.” Meseem’d, +That, while she spake her image all did burn, +And in her eyes such fullness was of joy, +And I am fain to pass unconstrued by. + +As in the calm full moon, when Trivia smiles, +In peerless beauty, ’mid th’ eternal nympus, +That paint through all its gulfs the blue profound +In bright pre-eminence so saw I there, +O’er million lamps a sun, from whom all drew +Their radiance as from ours the starry train: +And through the living light so lustrous glow’d +The substance, that my ken endur’d it not. + +O Beatrice! sweet and precious guide! +Who cheer’d me with her comfortable words! +“Against the virtue, that o’erpow’reth thee, +Avails not to resist. Here is the might, +And here the wisdom, which did open lay +The path, that had been yearned for so long, +Betwixt the heav’n and earth.” Like to the fire, +That, in a cloud imprison’d doth break out +Expansive, so that from its womb enlarg’d, +It falleth against nature to the ground; +Thus in that heav’nly banqueting my soul +Outgrew herself; and, in the transport lost. +Holds now remembrance none of what she was. + +“Ope thou thine eyes, and mark me: thou hast seen +Things, that empower thee to sustain my smile.” + +I was as one, when a forgotten dream +Doth come across him, and he strives in vain +To shape it in his fantasy again, +Whenas that gracious boon was proffer’d me, +Which never may be cancel’d from the book, +Wherein the past is written. Now were all +Those tongues to sound, that have on sweetest milk +Of Polyhymnia and her sisters fed +And fatten’d, not with all their help to boot, +Unto the thousandth parcel of the truth, +My song might shadow forth that saintly smile, +flow merely in her saintly looks it wrought. +And with such figuring of Paradise +The sacred strain must leap, like one, that meets +A sudden interruption to his road. +But he, who thinks how ponderous the theme, +And that ’tis lain upon a mortal shoulder, +May pardon, if it tremble with the burden. +The track, our ventrous keel must furrow, brooks +No unribb’d pinnace, no self-sparing pilot. + +“Why doth my face,” said Beatrice, “thus +Enamour thee, as that thou dost not turn +Unto the beautiful garden, blossoming +Beneath the rays of Christ? Here is the rose, +Wherein the word divine was made incarnate; +And here the lilies, by whose odour known +The way of life was follow’d.” Prompt I heard +Her bidding, and encounter once again +The strife of aching vision. As erewhile, +Through glance of sunlight, stream’d through broken cloud, +Mine eyes a flower-besprinkled mead have seen, +Though veil’d themselves in shade; so saw I there +Legions of splendours, on whom burning rays +Shed lightnings from above, yet saw I not +The fountain whence they flow’d. O gracious virtue! +Thou, whose broad stamp is on them, higher up +Thou didst exalt thy glory to give room +To my o’erlabour’d sight: when at the name +Of that fair flower, whom duly I invoke +Both morn and eve, my soul, with all her might +Collected, on the goodliest ardour fix’d. +And, as the bright dimensions of the star +In heav’n excelling, as once here on earth +Were, in my eyeballs lively portray’d, +Lo! from within the sky a cresset fell, +Circling in fashion of a diadem, +And girt the star, and hov’ring round it wheel’d. + +Whatever melody sounds sweetest here, +And draws the spirit most unto itself, +Might seem a rent cloud when it grates the thunder, +Compar’d unto the sounding of that lyre, +Wherewith the goodliest sapphire, that inlays +The floor of heav’n, was crown’d. “Angelic Love +I am, who thus with hov’ring flight enwheel +The lofty rapture from that womb inspir’d, +Where our desire did dwell: and round thee so, +Lady of Heav’n! will hover; long as thou +Thy Son shalt follow, and diviner joy +Shall from thy presence gild the highest sphere.” + +Such close was to the circling melody: +And, as it ended, all the other lights +Took up the strain, and echoed Mary’s name. + +The robe, that with its regal folds enwraps +The world, and with the nearer breath of God +Doth burn and quiver, held so far retir’d +Its inner hem and skirting over us, +That yet no glimmer of its majesty +Had stream’d unto me: therefore were mine eyes +Unequal to pursue the crowned flame, +That rose and sought its natal seed of fire; +And like to babe, that stretches forth its arms +For very eagerness towards the breast, +After the milk is taken; so outstretch’d +Their wavy summits all the fervent band, +Through zealous love to Mary: then in view +There halted, and “Regina Coeli” sang +So sweetly, the delight hath left me never. + +O what o’erflowing plenty is up-pil’d +In those rich-laden coffers, which below +Sow’d the good seed, whose harvest now they keep. + +Here are the treasures tasted, that with tears +Were in the Babylonian exile won, +When gold had fail’d them. Here in synod high +Of ancient council with the new conven’d, +Under the Son of Mary and of God, +Victorious he his mighty triumph holds, +To whom the keys of glory were assign’d. + + + + +CANTO XXIV + + +“O ye! in chosen fellowship advanc’d +To the great supper of the blessed Lamb, +Whereon who feeds hath every wish fulfill’d! +If to this man through God’s grace be vouchsaf’d +Foretaste of that, which from your table falls, +Or ever death his fated term prescribe; +Be ye not heedless of his urgent will; +But may some influence of your sacred dews +Sprinkle him. Of the fount ye alway drink, +Whence flows what most he craves.” Beatrice spake, +And the rejoicing spirits, like to spheres +On firm-set poles revolving, trail’d a blaze +Of comet splendour; and as wheels, that wind +Their circles in the horologe, so work +The stated rounds, that to th’ observant eye +The first seems still, and, as it flew, the last; +E’en thus their carols weaving variously, +They by the measure pac’d, or swift, or slow, +Made me to rate the riches of their joy. + +From that, which I did note in beauty most +Excelling, saw I issue forth a flame +So bright, as none was left more goodly there. +Round Beatrice thrice it wheel’d about, +With so divine a song, that fancy’s ear +Records it not; and the pen passeth on +And leaves a blank: for that our mortal speech, +Nor e’en the inward shaping of the brain, +Hath colours fine enough to trace such folds. + +“O saintly sister mine! thy prayer devout +Is with so vehement affection urg’d, +Thou dost unbind me from that beauteous sphere.” + +Such were the accents towards my lady breath’d +From that blest ardour, soon as it was stay’d: +To whom she thus: “O everlasting light +Of him, within whose mighty grasp our Lord +Did leave the keys, which of this wondrous bliss +He bare below! tent this man, as thou wilt, +With lighter probe or deep, touching the faith, +By the which thou didst on the billows walk. +If he in love, in hope, and in belief, +Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou +Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld +In liveliest portraiture. But since true faith +Has peopled this fair realm with citizens, +Meet is, that to exalt its glory more, +Thou in his audience shouldst thereof discourse.” + +Like to the bachelor, who arms himself, +And speaks not, till the master have propos’d +The question, to approve, and not to end it; +So I, in silence, arm’d me, while she spake, +Summoning up each argument to aid; +As was behooveful for such questioner, +And such profession: “As good Christian ought, +Declare thee, What is faith?” Whereat I rais’d +My forehead to the light, whence this had breath’d, +Then turn’d to Beatrice, and in her looks +Approval met, that from their inmost fount +I should unlock the waters. “May the grace, +That giveth me the captain of the church +For confessor,” said I, “vouchsafe to me +Apt utterance for my thoughts!” then added: “Sire! +E’en as set down by the unerring style +Of thy dear brother, who with thee conspir’d +To bring Rome in unto the way of life, +Faith of things hop’d is substance, and the proof +Of things not seen; and herein doth consist +Methinks its essence,”—“Rightly hast thou deem’d,” +Was answer’d: “if thou well discern, why first +He hath defin’d it, substance, and then proof.” + +“The deep things,” I replied, “which here I scan +Distinctly, are below from mortal eye +So hidden, they have in belief alone +Their being, on which credence hope sublime +Is built; and therefore substance it intends. +And inasmuch as we must needs infer +From such belief our reasoning, all respect +To other view excluded, hence of proof +Th’ intention is deriv’d.” Forthwith I heard: +“If thus, whate’er by learning men attain, +Were understood, the sophist would want room +To exercise his wit.” So breath’d the flame +Of love: then added: “Current is the coin +Thou utter’st, both in weight and in alloy. +But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse.” + +“Even so glittering and so round,” said I, +“I not a whit misdoubt of its assay.” + +Next issued from the deep imbosom’d splendour: +“Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which +Is founded every virtue, came to thee.” +“The flood,” I answer’d, “from the Spirit of God +Rain’d down upon the ancient bond and new,— +Here is the reas’ning, that convinceth me +So feelingly, each argument beside +Seems blunt and forceless in comparison.” +Then heard I: “Wherefore holdest thou that each, +The elder proposition and the new, +Which so persuade thee, are the voice of heav’n?” + +“The works, that follow’d, evidence their truth;” +I answer’d: “Nature did not make for these +The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them.” +“Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves,” +Was the reply, “that they in very deed +Are that they purport? None hath sworn so to thee.” + +“That all the world,” said I, “should have been turn’d +To Christian, and no miracle been wrought, +Would in itself be such a miracle, +The rest were not an hundredth part so great. +E’en thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger +To set the goodly plant, that from the vine, +It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble.” +That ended, through the high celestial court +Resounded all the spheres. “Praise we one God!” +In song of most unearthly melody. +And when that Worthy thus, from branch to branch, +Examining, had led me, that we now +Approach’d the topmost bough, he straight resum’d; +“The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul, +So far discreetly hath thy lips unclos’d +That, whatsoe’er has past them, I commend. +Behooves thee to express, what thou believ’st, +The next, and whereon thy belief hath grown.” + +“O saintly sire and spirit!” I began, +“Who seest that, which thou didst so believe, +As to outstrip feet younger than thine own, +Toward the sepulchre? thy will is here, +That I the tenour of my creed unfold; +And thou the cause of it hast likewise ask’d. +And I reply: I in one God believe, +One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love +All heav’n is mov’d, himself unmov’d the while. +Nor demonstration physical alone, +Or more intelligential and abstruse, +Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth +It cometh to me rather, which is shed +Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms. +The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write, +When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost. +In three eternal Persons I believe, +Essence threefold and one, mysterious league +Of union absolute, which, many a time, +The word of gospel lore upon my mind +Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark, +The lively flame dilates, and like heav’n’s star +Doth glitter in me.” As the master hears, +Well pleas’d, and then enfoldeth in his arms +The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought, +And having told the errand keeps his peace; +Thus benediction uttering with song +Soon as my peace I held, compass’d me thrice +The apostolic radiance, whose behest +Had op’d lips; so well their answer pleas’d. + + + + +CANTO XXV + + +If e’er the sacred poem that hath made +Both heav’n and earth copartners in its toil, +And with lean abstinence, through many a year, +Faded my brow, be destin’d to prevail +Over the cruelty, which bars me forth +Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb +The wolves set on and fain had worried me, +With other voice and fleece of other grain +I shall forthwith return, and, standing up +At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath +Due to the poet’s temples: for I there +First enter’d on the faith which maketh souls +Acceptable to God: and, for its sake, +Peter had then circled my forehead thus. + +Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth +The first fruit of Christ’s vicars on the earth, +Toward us mov’d a light, at view whereof +My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me: +“Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might, +That makes Falicia throng’d with visitants!” + +As when the ring-dove by his mate alights, +In circles each about the other wheels, +And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I +One, of the other great and glorious prince, +With kindly greeting hail’d, extolling both +Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end +Was to their gratulation, silent, each, +Before me sat they down, so burning bright, +I could not look upon them. Smiling then, +Beatrice spake: “O life in glory shrin’d!” +Who didst the largess of our kingly court +Set down with faithful pen! let now thy voice +Of hope the praises in this height resound. +For thou, who figur’st them in shapes, as clear, +As Jesus stood before thee, well can’st speak them.” + +“Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust: +For that, which hither from the mortal world +Arriveth, must be ripen’d in our beam.” + +Such cheering accents from the second flame +Assur’d me; and mine eyes I lifted up +Unto the mountains that had bow’d them late +With over-heavy burden. “Sith our Liege +Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death, +In the most secret council, with his lords +Shouldst be confronted, so that having view’d +The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith +Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate +With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare, +What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee, +And whence thou hadst it?” Thus proceeding still, +The second light: and she, whose gentle love +My soaring pennons in that lofty flight +Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin’d: +Among her sons, not one more full of hope, +Hath the church militant: so ’tis of him +Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb +Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term +Of warfare, hence permitted he is come, +From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see. +The other points, both which thou hast inquir’d, +Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell +How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him +Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease, +And without boasting, so God give him grace.” +Like to the scholar, practis’d in his task, +Who, willing to give proof of diligence, +Seconds his teacher gladly, “Hope,” said I, +“Is of the joy to come a sure expectance, +Th’ effect of grace divine and merit preceding. +This light from many a star visits my heart, +But flow’d to me the first from him, who sang +The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme +Among his tuneful brethren. ‘Let all hope +In thee,’ so speak his anthem, ‘who have known +Thy name;’ and with my faith who know not that? +From thee, the next, distilling from his spring, +In thine epistle, fell on me the drops +So plenteously, that I on others shower +The influence of their dew.” Whileas I spake, +A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning, +Within the bosom of that mighty sheen, +Play’d tremulous; then forth these accents breath’d: +“Love for the virtue which attended me +E’en to the palm, and issuing from the field, +Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires +To ask of thee, whom also it delights; +What promise thou from hope in chief dost win.” + +“Both scriptures, new and ancient,” I reply’d; +“Propose the mark (which even now I view) +For souls belov’d of God. Isaias saith, +That, in their own land, each one must be clad +In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life. +In terms more full, +And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth +This revelation to us, where he tells +Of the white raiment destin’d to the saints.” +And, as the words were ending, from above, +“They hope in thee,” first heard we cried: whereto +Answer’d the carols all. Amidst them next, +A light of so clear amplitude emerg’d, +That winter’s month were but a single day, +Were such a crystal in the Cancer’s sign. + +Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes, +And enters on the mazes of the dance, +Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent, +Than to do fitting honour to the bride; +So I beheld the new effulgence come +Unto the other two, who in a ring +Wheel’d, as became their rapture. In the dance +And in the song it mingled. And the dame +Held on them fix’d her looks: e’en as the spouse +Silent and moveless. “This is he, who lay +Upon the bosom of our pelican: +This he, into whose keeping from the cross +The mighty charge was given.” Thus she spake, +Yet therefore naught the more remov’d her Sight +From marking them, or ere her words began, +Or when they clos’d. As he, who looks intent, +And strives with searching ken, how he may see +The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire +Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I +Peer’d on that last resplendence, while I heard: +“Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that, +Which here abides not? Earth my body is, +In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long, +As till our number equal the decree +Of the Most High. The two that have ascended, +In this our blessed cloister, shine alone +With the two garments. So report below.” + +As when, for ease of labour, or to shun +Suspected peril at a whistle’s breath, +The oars, erewhile dash’d frequent in the wave, +All rest; the flamy circle at that voice +So rested, and the mingling sound was still, +Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose. +I turn’d, but ah! how trembled in my thought, +When, looking at my side again to see +Beatrice, I descried her not, although +Not distant, on the happy coast she stood. + + + + +CANTO XXVI + + +With dazzled eyes, whilst wond’ring I remain’d, +Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me, +Issued a breath, that in attention mute +Detain’d me; and these words it spake: “’Twere well, +That, long as till thy vision, on my form +O’erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse +Thou compensate the brief delay. Say then, +Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires: + +“And meanwhile rest assur’d, that sight in thee +Is but o’erpowered a space, not wholly quench’d: +Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look +Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt +In Ananias’ hand.” I answering thus: +“Be to mine eyes the remedy or late +Or early, at her pleasure; for they were +The gates, at which she enter’d, and did light +Her never dying fire. My wishes here +Are centered; in this palace is the weal, +That Alpha and Omega, is to all +The lessons love can read me.” Yet again +The voice which had dispers’d my fear, when daz’d +With that excess, to converse urg’d, and spake: +“Behooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms, +And say, who level’d at this scope thy bow.” + +“Philosophy,” said I, “hath arguments, +And this place hath authority enough +T’ imprint in me such love: for, of constraint, +Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good, +Kindles our love, and in degree the more, +As it comprises more of goodness in ’t. +The essence then, where such advantage is, +That each good, found without it, is naught else +But of his light the beam, must needs attract +The soul of each one, loving, who the truth +Discerns, on which this proof is built. Such truth +Learn I from him, who shows me the first love +Of all intelligential substances +Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word +Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith, +‘I will make all my good before thee pass.’ +Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim’st, +E’en at the outset of thy heralding, +In mortal ears the mystery of heav’n.” + +“Through human wisdom, and th’ authority +Therewith agreeing,” heard I answer’d, “keep +The choicest of thy love for God. But say, +If thou yet other cords within thee feel’st +That draw thee towards him; so that thou report +How many are the fangs, with which this love +Is grappled to thy soul.” I did not miss, +To what intent the eagle of our Lord +Had pointed his demand; yea noted well +Th’ avowal, which he led to; and resum’d: +“All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God, +Confederate to make fast our clarity. +The being of the world, and mine own being, +The death which he endur’d that I should live, +And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do, +To the foremention’d lively knowledge join’d, +Have from the sea of ill love sav’d my bark, +And on the coast secur’d it of the right. +As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom, +My love for them is great, as is the good +Dealt by th’ eternal hand, that tends them all.” + +I ended, and therewith a song most sweet +Rang through the spheres; and “Holy, holy, holy,” +Accordant with the rest my lady sang. +And as a sleep is broken and dispers’d +Through sharp encounter of the nimble light, +With the eye’s spirit running forth to meet +The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg’d; +And the upstartled wight loathes that he sees; +So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems +Of all around him, till assurance waits +On better judgment: thus the saintly came +Drove from before mine eyes the motes away, +With the resplendence of her own, that cast +Their brightness downward, thousand miles below. +Whence I my vision, clearer shall before, +Recover’d; and, well nigh astounded, ask’d +Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw. + +And Beatrice: “The first diving soul, +That ever the first virtue fram’d, admires +Within these rays his Maker.” Like the leaf, +That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown; +By its own virtue rear’d then stands aloof; +So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow’d. +Then eagerness to speak embolden’d me; +And I began: “O fruit! that wast alone +Mature, when first engender’d! Ancient father! +That doubly seest in every wedded bride +Thy daughter by affinity and blood! +Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold +Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I, +More speedily to hear thee, tell it not.” + +It chanceth oft some animal bewrays, +Through the sleek cov’ring of his furry coat. +The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms +His outside seeming to the cheer within: +And in like guise was Adam’s spirit mov’d +To joyous mood, that through the covering shone, +Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake: +“No need thy will be told, which I untold +Better discern, than thou whatever thing +Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see +In Him, who is truth’s mirror, and Himself +Parhelion unto all things, and naught else +To him. This wouldst thou hear; how long since God +Plac’d me high garden, from whose hounds +She led me up in this ladder, steep and long; +What space endur’d my season of delight; +Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish’d me; +And what the language, which I spake and fram’d +Not that I tasted of the tree, my son, +Was in itself the cause of that exile, +But only my transgressing of the mark +Assign’d me. There, whence at thy lady’s hest +The Mantuan mov’d him, still was I debarr’d +This council, till the sun had made complete, +Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice, +His annual journey; and, through every light +In his broad pathway, saw I him return, +Thousand save sev’nty times, the whilst I dwelt +Upon the earth. The language I did use +Was worn away, or ever Nimrod’s race +Their unaccomplishable work began. +For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting, +Left by his reason free, and variable, +As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks, +Is nature’s prompting: whether thus or thus, +She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it. +Ere I descended into hell’s abyss, +El was the name on earth of the Chief Good, +Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then ’twas call’d +And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use +Is as the leaf upon the bough; that goes, +And other comes instead. Upon the mount +Most high above the waters, all my life, +Both innocent and guilty, did but reach +From the first hour, to that which cometh next +(As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth.” + + + + +CANTO XXVII + + +Then “Glory to the Father, to the Son, +And to the Holy Spirit,” rang aloud +Throughout all Paradise, that with the song +My spirit reel’d, so passing sweet the strain: +And what I saw was equal ecstasy; +One universal smile it seem’d of all things, +Joy past compare, gladness unutterable, +Imperishable life of peace and love, +Exhaustless riches and unmeasur’d bliss. + +Before mine eyes stood the four torches lit; +And that, which first had come, began to wax +In brightness, and in semblance such became, +As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds, +And interchang’d their plumes. Silence ensued, +Through the blest quire, by Him, who here appoints +Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin’d; +When thus I heard: “Wonder not, if my hue +Be chang’d; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see +All in like manner change with me. My place +He who usurps on earth (my place, ay, mine, +Which in the presence of the Son of God +Is void), the same hath made my cemetery +A common sewer of puddle and of blood: +The more below his triumph, who from hence +Malignant fell.” Such colour, as the sun, +At eve or morning, paints an adverse cloud, +Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky. +And as th’ unblemish’d dame, who in herself +Secure of censure, yet at bare report +Of other’s failing, shrinks with maiden fear; +So Beatrice in her semblance chang’d: +And such eclipse in heav’n methinks was seen, +When the Most Holy suffer’d. Then the words +Proceeded, with voice, alter’d from itself +So clean, the semblance did not alter more. +“Not to this end was Christ’s spouse with my blood, +With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed: +That she might serve for purchase of base gold: +But for the purchase of this happy life +Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed, +And Urban, they, whose doom was not without +Much weeping seal’d. No purpose was of our +That on the right hand of our successors +Part of the Christian people should be set, +And part upon their left; nor that the keys, +Which were vouchsaf’d me, should for ensign serve +Unto the banners, that do levy war +On the baptiz’d: nor I, for sigil-mark +Set upon sold and lying privileges; +Which makes me oft to bicker and turn red. +In shepherd’s clothing greedy wolves below +Range wide o’er all the pastures. Arm of God! +Why longer sleepst thou? Caorsines and Gascona +Prepare to quaff our blood. O good beginning +To what a vile conclusion must thou stoop! +But the high providence, which did defend +Through Scipio the world’s glory unto Rome, +Will not delay its succour: and thou, son, +Who through thy mortal weight shall yet again +Return below, open thy lips, nor hide +What is by me not hidden.” As a Hood +Of frozen vapours streams adown the air, +What time the she-goat with her skiey horn +Touches the sun; so saw I there stream wide +The vapours, who with us had linger’d late +And with glad triumph deck th’ ethereal cope. +Onward my sight their semblances pursued; +So far pursued, as till the space between +From its reach sever’d them: whereat the guide +Celestial, marking me no more intent +On upward gazing, said, “Look down and see +What circuit thou hast compass’d.” From the hour +When I before had cast my view beneath, +All the first region overpast I saw, +Which from the midmost to the bound’ry winds; +That onward thence from Gades I beheld +The unwise passage of Laertes’ son, +And hitherward the shore, where thou, Europa! +Mad’st thee a joyful burden: and yet more +Of this dim spot had seen, but that the sun, +A constellation off and more, had ta’en +His progress in the zodiac underneath. + +Then by the spirit, that doth never leave +Its amorous dalliance with my lady’s looks, +Back with redoubled ardour were mine eyes +Led unto her: and from her radiant smiles, +Whenas I turn’d me, pleasure so divine +Did lighten on me, that whatever bait +Or art or nature in the human flesh, +Or in its limn’d resemblance, can combine +Through greedy eyes to take the soul withal, +Were to her beauty nothing. Its boon influence +From the fair nest of Leda rapt me forth, +And wafted on into the swiftest heav’n. + +What place for entrance Beatrice chose, +I may not say, so uniform was all, +Liveliest and loftiest. She my secret wish +Divin’d; and with such gladness, that God’s love +Seem’d from her visage shining, thus began: +“Here is the goal, whence motion on his race +Starts; motionless the centre, and the rest +All mov’d around. Except the soul divine, +Place in this heav’n is none, the soul divine, +Wherein the love, which ruleth o’er its orb, +Is kindled, and the virtue that it sheds; +One circle, light and love, enclasping it, +As this doth clasp the others; and to Him, +Who draws the bound, its limit only known. +Measur’d itself by none, it doth divide +Motion to all, counted unto them forth, +As by the fifth or half ye count forth ten. +The vase, wherein time’s roots are plung’d, thou seest, +Look elsewhere for the leaves. O mortal lust! +That canst not lift thy head above the waves +Which whelm and sink thee down! The will in man +Bears goodly blossoms; but its ruddy promise +Is, by the dripping of perpetual rain, +Made mere abortion: faith and innocence +Are met with but in babes, each taking leave +Ere cheeks with down are sprinkled; he, that fasts, +While yet a stammerer, with his tongue let loose +Gluts every food alike in every moon. +One yet a babbler, loves and listens to +His mother; but no sooner hath free use +Of speech, than he doth wish her in her grave. +So suddenly doth the fair child of him, +Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting, +To negro blackness change her virgin white. + +“Thou, to abate thy wonder, note that none +Bears rule in earth, and its frail family +Are therefore wand’rers. Yet before the date, +When through the hundredth in his reck’ning drops +Pale January must be shor’d aside +From winter’s calendar, these heav’nly spheres +Shall roar so loud, that fortune shall be fain +To turn the poop, where she hath now the prow; +So that the fleet run onward; and true fruit, +Expected long, shall crown at last the bloom!” + + + + +CANTO XXVII + + +So she who doth imparadise my soul, +Had drawn the veil from off our pleasant life, +And bar’d the truth of poor mortality; +When lo! as one who, in a mirror, spies +The shining of a flambeau at his back, +Lit sudden ore he deem of its approach, +And turneth to resolve him, if the glass +Have told him true, and sees the record faithful +As note is to its metre; even thus, +I well remember, did befall to me, +Looking upon the beauteous eyes, whence love +Had made the leash to take me. As I turn’d; +And that, which, in their circles, none who spies, +Can miss of, in itself apparent, struck +On mine; a point I saw, that darted light +So sharp, no lid, unclosing, may bear up +Against its keenness. The least star we view +From hence, had seem’d a moon, set by its side, +As star by side of star. And so far off, +Perchance, as is the halo from the light +Which paints it, when most dense the vapour spreads, +There wheel’d about the point a circle of fire, +More rapid than the motion, which first girds +The world. Then, circle after circle, round +Enring’d each other; till the seventh reach’d +Circumference so ample, that its bow, +Within the span of Juno’s messenger, +lied scarce been held entire. Beyond the sev’nth, +Follow’d yet other two. And every one, +As more in number distant from the first, +Was tardier in motion; and that glow’d +With flame most pure, that to the sparkle’ of truth +Was nearest, as partaking most, methinks, +Of its reality. The guide belov’d +Saw me in anxious thought suspense, and spake: +“Heav’n, and all nature, hangs upon that point. +The circle thereto most conjoin’d observe; +And know, that by intenser love its course +Is to this swiftness wing’d.” To whom I thus: +“It were enough; nor should I further seek, +Had I but witness’d order, in the world +Appointed, such as in these wheels is seen. +But in the sensible world such diff’rence is, +That is each round shows more divinity, +As each is wider from the centre. Hence, +If in this wondrous and angelic temple, +That hath for confine only light and love, +My wish may have completion I must know, +Wherefore such disagreement is between +Th’ exemplar and its copy: for myself, +Contemplating, I fail to pierce the cause.” + +“It is no marvel, if thy fingers foil’d +Do leave the knot untied: so hard ’tis grown +For want of tenting.” Thus she said: “But take,” +She added, “if thou wish thy cure, my words, +And entertain them subtly. Every orb +Corporeal, doth proportion its extent +Unto the virtue through its parts diffus’d. +The greater blessedness preserves the more. +The greater is the body (if all parts +Share equally) the more is to preserve. +Therefore the circle, whose swift course enwheels +The universal frame answers to that, +Which is supreme in knowledge and in love +Thus by the virtue, not the seeming, breadth +Of substance, measure, thou shalt see the heav’ns, +Each to the’ intelligence that ruleth it, +Greater to more, and smaller unto less, +Suited in strict and wondrous harmony.” + +As when the sturdy north blows from his cheek +A blast, that scours the sky, forthwith our air, +Clear’d of the rack, that hung on it before, +Glitters; and, With his beauties all unveil’d, +The firmament looks forth serene, and smiles; +Such was my cheer, when Beatrice drove +With clear reply the shadows back, and truth +Was manifested, as a star in heaven. +And when the words were ended, not unlike +To iron in the furnace, every cirque +Ebullient shot forth scintillating fires: +And every sparkle shivering to new blaze, +In number did outmillion the account +Reduplicate upon the chequer’d board. +Then heard I echoing on from choir to choir, +“Hosanna,” to the fixed point, that holds, +And shall for ever hold them to their place, +From everlasting, irremovable. + +Musing awhile I stood: and she, who saw +by inward meditations, thus began: +“In the first circles, they, whom thou beheldst, +Are seraphim and cherubim. Thus swift +Follow their hoops, in likeness to the point, +Near as they can, approaching; and they can +The more, the loftier their vision. Those, +That round them fleet, gazing the Godhead next, +Are thrones; in whom the first trine ends. And all +Are blessed, even as their sight descends +Deeper into the truth, wherein rest is +For every mind. Thus happiness hath root +In seeing, not in loving, which of sight +Is aftergrowth. And of the seeing such +The meed, as unto each in due degree +Grace and good-will their measure have assign’d. +The other trine, that with still opening buds +In this eternal springtide blossom fair, +Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram, +Breathe up in warbled melodies threefold +Hosannas blending ever, from the three +Transmitted. hierarchy of gods, for aye +Rejoicing, dominations first, next then +Virtues, and powers the third. The next to whom +Are princedoms and archangels, with glad round +To tread their festal ring; and last the band +Angelical, disporting in their sphere. +All, as they circle in their orders, look +Aloft, and downward with such sway prevail, +That all with mutual impulse tend to God. +These once a mortal view beheld. Desire +In Dionysius so intently wrought, +That he, as I have done rang’d them; and nam’d +Their orders, marshal’d in his thought. From him +Dissentient, one refus’d his sacred read. +But soon as in this heav’n his doubting eyes +Were open’d, Gregory at his error smil’d +Nor marvel, that a denizen of earth +Should scan such secret truth; for he had learnt +Both this and much beside of these our orbs, +From an eye-witness to heav’n’s mysteries.” + + + + +CANTO XXIX + + +No longer than what time Latona’s twins +Cover’d of Libra and the fleecy star, +Together both, girding the’ horizon hang, +In even balance from the zenith pois’d, +Till from that verge, each, changing hemisphere, +Part the nice level; e’en so brief a space +Did Beatrice’s silence hold. A smile +Bat painted on her cheek; and her fix’d gaze +Bent on the point, at which my vision fail’d: +When thus her words resuming she began: +“I speak, nor what thou wouldst inquire demand; +For I have mark’d it, where all time and place +Are present. Not for increase to himself +Of good, which may not be increas’d, but forth +To manifest his glory by its beams, +Inhabiting his own eternity, +Beyond time’s limit or what bound soe’er +To circumscribe his being, as he will’d, +Into new natures, like unto himself, +Eternal Love unfolded. Nor before, +As if in dull inaction torpid lay. +For not in process of before or aft +Upon these waters mov’d the Spirit of God. +Simple and mix’d, both form and substance, forth +To perfect being started, like three darts +Shot from a bow three-corded. And as ray +In crystal, glass, and amber, shines entire, +E’en at the moment of its issuing; thus +Did, from th’ eternal Sovran, beam entire +His threefold operation, at one act +Produc’d coeval. Yet in order each +Created his due station knew: those highest, +Who pure intelligence were made: mere power +The lowest: in the midst, bound with strict league, +Intelligence and power, unsever’d bond. +Long tract of ages by the angels past, +Ere the creating of another world, +Describ’d on Jerome’s pages thou hast seen. +But that what I disclose to thee is true, +Those penmen, whom the Holy Spirit mov’d +In many a passage of their sacred book +Attest; as thou by diligent search shalt find +And reason in some sort discerns the same, +Who scarce would grant the heav’nly ministers +Of their perfection void, so long a space. +Thus when and where these spirits of love were made, +Thou know’st, and how: and knowing hast allay’d +Thy thirst, which from the triple question rose. +Ere one had reckon’d twenty, e’en so soon +Part of the angels fell: and in their fall +Confusion to your elements ensued. +The others kept their station: and this task, +Whereon thou lookst, began with such delight, +That they surcease not ever, day nor night, +Their circling. Of that fatal lapse the cause +Was the curst pride of him, whom thou hast seen +Pent with the world’s incumbrance. Those, whom here +Thou seest, were lowly to confess themselves +Of his free bounty, who had made them apt +For ministries so high: therefore their views +Were by enlight’ning grace and their own merit +Exalted; so that in their will confirm’d +They stand, nor feel to fall. For do not doubt, +But to receive the grace, which heav’n vouchsafes, +Is meritorious, even as the soul +With prompt affection welcometh the guest. +Now, without further help, if with good heed +My words thy mind have treasur’d, thou henceforth +This consistory round about mayst scan, +And gaze thy fill. But since thou hast on earth +Heard vain disputers, reasoners in the schools, +Canvas the’ angelic nature, and dispute +Its powers of apprehension, memory, choice; +Therefore, ’tis well thou take from me the truth, +Pure and without disguise, which they below, +Equivocating, darken and perplex. + +“Know thou, that, from the first, these substances, +Rejoicing in the countenance of God, +Have held unceasingly their view, intent +Upon the glorious vision, from the which +Naught absent is nor hid: where then no change +Of newness with succession interrupts, +Remembrance there needs none to gather up +Divided thought and images remote + +“So that men, thus at variance with the truth +Dream, though their eyes be open; reckless some +Of error; others well aware they err, +To whom more guilt and shame are justly due. +Each the known track of sage philosophy +Deserts, and has a byway of his own: +So much the restless eagerness to shine +And love of singularity prevail. +Yet this, offensive as it is, provokes +Heav’n’s anger less, than when the book of God +Is forc’d to yield to man’s authority, +Or from its straightness warp’d: no reck’ning made +What blood the sowing of it in the world +Has cost; what favour for himself he wins, +Who meekly clings to it. The aim of all +Is how to shine: e’en they, whose office is +To preach the Gospel, let the gospel sleep, +And pass their own inventions off instead. +One tells, how at Christ’s suffering the wan moon +Bent back her steps, and shadow’d o’er the sun +With intervenient disk, as she withdrew: +Another, how the light shrouded itself +Within its tabernacle, and left dark +The Spaniard and the Indian, with the Jew. +Such fables Florence in her pulpit hears, +Bandied about more frequent, than the names +Of Bindi and of Lapi in her streets. +The sheep, meanwhile, poor witless ones, return +From pasture, fed with wind: and what avails +For their excuse, they do not see their harm? +Christ said not to his first conventicle, +‘Go forth and preach impostures to the world,’ +But gave them truth to build on; and the sound +Was mighty on their lips; nor needed they, +Beside the gospel, other spear or shield, +To aid them in their warfare for the faith. +The preacher now provides himself with store +Of jests and gibes; and, so there be no lack +Of laughter, while he vents them, his big cowl +Distends, and he has won the meed he sought: +Could but the vulgar catch a glimpse the while +Of that dark bird which nestles in his hood, +They scarce would wait to hear the blessing said. +Which now the dotards hold in such esteem, +That every counterfeit, who spreads abroad +The hands of holy promise, finds a throng +Of credulous fools beneath. Saint Anthony +Fattens with this his swine, and others worse +Than swine, who diet at his lazy board, +Paying with unstamp’d metal for their fare. + +“But (for we far have wander’d) let us seek +The forward path again; so as the way +Be shorten’d with the time. No mortal tongue +Nor thought of man hath ever reach’d so far, +That of these natures he might count the tribes. +What Daniel of their thousands hath reveal’d +With finite number infinite conceals. +The fountain at whose source these drink their beams, +With light supplies them in as many modes, +As there are splendours, that it shines on: each +According to the virtue it conceives, +Differing in love and sweet affection. +Look then how lofty and how huge in breadth +The’ eternal might, which, broken and dispers’d +Over such countless mirrors, yet remains +Whole in itself and one, as at the first.” + + + + +CANTO XXX + + +Noon’s fervid hour perchance six thousand miles +From hence is distant; and the shadowy cone +Almost to level on our earth declines; +When from the midmost of this blue abyss +By turns some star is to our vision lost. +And straightway as the handmaid of the sun +Puts forth her radiant brow, all, light by light, +Fade, and the spangled firmament shuts in, +E’en to the loveliest of the glittering throng. +Thus vanish’d gradually from my sight +The triumph, which plays ever round the point, +That overcame me, seeming (for it did) +Engirt by that it girdeth. Wherefore love, +With loss of other object, forc’d me bend +Mine eyes on Beatrice once again. + +If all, that hitherto is told of her, +Were in one praise concluded, ’twere too weak +To furnish out this turn. Mine eyes did look +On beauty, such, as I believe in sooth, +Not merely to exceed our human, but, +That save its Maker, none can to the full +Enjoy it. At this point o’erpower’d I fail, +Unequal to my theme, as never bard +Of buskin or of sock hath fail’d before. +For, as the sun doth to the feeblest sight, +E’en so remembrance of that witching smile +Hath dispossess my spirit of itself. +Not from that day, when on this earth I first +Beheld her charms, up to that view of them, +Have I with song applausive ever ceas’d +To follow, but not follow them no more; +My course here bounded, as each artist’s is, +When it doth touch the limit of his skill. + +She (such as I bequeath her to the bruit +Of louder trump than mine, which hasteneth on, +Urging its arduous matter to the close), +Her words resum’d, in gesture and in voice +Resembling one accustom’d to command: +“Forth from the last corporeal are we come +Into the heav’n, that is unbodied light, +Light intellectual replete with love, +Love of true happiness replete with joy, +Joy, that transcends all sweetness of delight. +Here shalt thou look on either mighty host +Of Paradise; and one in that array, +Which in the final judgment thou shalt see.” + +As when the lightning, in a sudden spleen +Unfolded, dashes from the blinding eyes +The visive spirits dazzled and bedimm’d; +So, round about me, fulminating streams +Of living radiance play’d, and left me swath’d +And veil’d in dense impenetrable blaze. +Such weal is in the love, that stills this heav’n; +For its own flame the torch this fitting ever! + +No sooner to my list’ning ear had come +The brief assurance, than I understood +New virtue into me infus’d, and sight +Kindled afresh, with vigour to sustain +Excess of light, however pure. I look’d; +And in the likeness of a river saw +Light flowing, from whose amber-seeming waves +Flash’d up effulgence, as they glided on +’Twixt banks, on either side, painted with spring, +Incredible how fair; and, from the tide, +There ever and anon, outstarting, flew +Sparkles instinct with life; and in the flow’rs +Did set them, like to rubies chas’d in gold; +Then, as if drunk with odors, plung’d again +Into the wondrous flood; from which, as one +Re’enter’d, still another rose. “The thirst +Of knowledge high, whereby thou art inflam’d, +To search the meaning of what here thou seest, +The more it warms thee, pleases me the more. +But first behooves thee of this water drink, +Or ere that longing be allay’d.” So spake +The day-star of mine eyes; then thus subjoin’d: +“This stream, and these, forth issuing from its gulf, +And diving back, a living topaz each, +With all this laughter on its bloomy shores, +Are but a preface, shadowy of the truth +They emblem: not that, in themselves, the things +Are crude; but on thy part is the defect, +For that thy views not yet aspire so high.” +Never did babe, that had outslept his wont, +Rush, with such eager straining, to the milk, +As I toward the water, bending me, +To make the better mirrors of mine eyes +In the refining wave; and, as the eaves +Of mine eyelids did drink of it, forthwith +Seem’d it unto me turn’d from length to round, +Then as a troop of maskers, when they put +Their vizors off, look other than before, +The counterfeited semblance thrown aside; +So into greater jubilee were chang’d +Those flowers and sparkles, and distinct I saw +Before me either court of heav’n displac’d. + +O prime enlightener! thou who crav’st me strength +On the high triumph of thy realm to gaze! +Grant virtue now to utter what I kenn’d, + There is in heav’n a light, whose goodly shine +Makes the Creator visible to all +Created, that in seeing him alone +Have peace; and in a circle spreads so far, +That the circumference were too loose a zone +To girdle in the sun. All is one beam, +Reflected from the summit of the first, +That moves, which being hence and vigour takes, +And as some cliff, that from the bottom eyes +Its image mirror’d in the crystal flood, +As if ’t admire its brave appareling +Of verdure and of flowers: so, round about, +Eyeing the light, on more than million thrones, +Stood, eminent, whatever from our earth +Has to the skies return’d. How wide the leaves +Extended to their utmost of this rose, +Whose lowest step embosoms such a space +Of ample radiance! Yet, nor amplitude +Nor height impeded, but my view with ease +Took in the full dimensions of that joy. +Near or remote, what there avails, where God +Immediate rules, and Nature, awed, suspends +Her sway? Into the yellow of the rose +Perennial, which in bright expansiveness, +Lays forth its gradual blooming, redolent +Of praises to the never-wint’ring sun, +As one, who fain would speak yet holds his peace, +Beatrice led me; and, “Behold,” she said, +“This fair assemblage! stoles of snowy white +How numberless! The city, where we dwell, +Behold how vast! and these our seats so throng’d +Few now are wanting here! In that proud stall, +On which, the crown, already o’er its state +Suspended, holds thine eyes—or ere thyself +Mayst at the wedding sup,—shall rest the soul +Of the great Harry, he who, by the world +Augustas hail’d, to Italy must come, +Before her day be ripe. But ye are sick, +And in your tetchy wantonness as blind, +As is the bantling, that of hunger dies, +And drives away the nurse. Nor may it be, +That he, who in the sacred forum sways, +Openly or in secret, shall with him +Accordant walk: Whom God will not endure +I’ th’ holy office long; but thrust him down +To Simon Magus, where Magna’s priest +Will sink beneath him: such will be his meed.” + + + + +CANTO XXXI + + +In fashion, as a snow-white rose, lay then +Before my view the saintly multitude, +Which in his own blood Christ espous’d. Meanwhile +That other host, that soar aloft to gaze +And celebrate his glory, whom they love, +Hover’d around; and, like a troop of bees, +Amid the vernal sweets alighting now, +Now, clustering, where their fragrant labour glows, +Flew downward to the mighty flow’r, or rose +From the redundant petals, streaming back +Unto the steadfast dwelling of their joy. +Faces had they of flame, and wings of gold; +The rest was whiter than the driven snow. +And as they flitted down into the flower, +From range to range, fanning their plumy loins, +Whisper’d the peace and ardour, which they won +From that soft winnowing. Shadow none, the vast +Interposition of such numerous flight +Cast, from above, upon the flower, or view +Obstructed aught. For, through the universe, +Wherever merited, celestial light +Glides freely, and no obstacle prevents. + +All there, who reign in safety and in bliss, +Ages long past or new, on one sole mark +Their love and vision fix’d. O trinal beam +Of individual star, that charmst them thus, +Vouchsafe one glance to gild our storm below! + +If the grim brood, from Arctic shores that roam’d, +(Where helice, forever, as she wheels, +Sparkles a mother’s fondness on her son) +Stood in mute wonder ’mid the works of Rome, +When to their view the Lateran arose +In greatness more than earthly; I, who then +From human to divine had past, from time +Unto eternity, and out of Florence +To justice and to truth, how might I choose +But marvel too? ’Twixt gladness and amaze, +In sooth no will had I to utter aught, +Or hear. And, as a pilgrim, when he rests +Within the temple of his vow, looks round +In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell +Of all its goodly state: e’en so mine eyes +Cours’d up and down along the living light, +Now low, and now aloft, and now around, +Visiting every step. Looks I beheld, +Where charity in soft persuasion sat, +Smiles from within and radiance from above, +And in each gesture grace and honour high. + +So rov’d my ken, and its general form +All Paradise survey’d: when round I turn’d +With purpose of my lady to inquire +Once more of things, that held my thought suspense, +But answer found from other than I ween’d; +For, Beatrice, when I thought to see, +I saw instead a senior, at my side, + Rob’d, as the rest, in glory. Joy benign +Glow’d in his eye, and o’er his cheek diffus’d, +With gestures such as spake a father’s love. +And, “Whither is she vanish’d?” straight I ask’d. + +“By Beatrice summon’d,” he replied, +“I come to aid thy wish. Looking aloft +To the third circle from the highest, there +Behold her on the throne, wherein her merit +Hath plac’d her.” Answering not, mine eyes I rais’d, +And saw her, where aloof she sat, her brow +A wreath reflecting of eternal beams. +Not from the centre of the sea so far +Unto the region of the highest thunder, +As was my ken from hers; and yet the form +Came through that medium down, unmix’d and pure, + +“O Lady! thou in whom my hopes have rest! +Who, for my safety, hast not scorn’d, in hell +To leave the traces of thy footsteps mark’d! +For all mine eyes have seen, I, to thy power +And goodness, virtue owe and grace. Of slave, +Thou hast to freedom brought me; and no means, +For my deliverance apt, hast left untried. +Thy liberal bounty still toward me keep. +That, when my spirit, which thou madest whole, +Is loosen’d from this body, it may find +Favour with thee.” So I my suit preferr’d: +And she, so distant, as appear’d, look’d down, +And smil’d; then tow’rds th’ eternal fountain turn’d. + +And thus the senior, holy and rever’d: +“That thou at length mayst happily conclude +Thy voyage (to which end I was dispatch’d, +By supplication mov’d and holy love) +Let thy upsoaring vision range, at large, +This garden through: for so, by ray divine +Kindled, thy ken a higher flight shall mount; +And from heav’n’s queen, whom fervent I adore, +All gracious aid befriend us; for that I +Am her own faithful Bernard.” Like a wight, +Who haply from Croatia wends to see +Our Veronica, and the while ’tis shown, +Hangs over it with never-sated gaze, +And, all that he hath heard revolving, saith +Unto himself in thought: “And didst thou look +E’en thus, O Jesus, my true Lord and God? +And was this semblance thine?” So gaz’d I then +Adoring; for the charity of him, +Who musing, in the world that peace enjoy’d, +Stood lively before me. “Child of grace!” +Thus he began: “thou shalt not knowledge gain +Of this glad being, if thine eyes are held +Still in this depth below. But search around +The circles, to the furthest, till thou spy +Seated in state, the queen, that of this realm +Is sovran.” Straight mine eyes I rais’d; and bright, +As, at the birth of morn, the eastern clime +Above th’ horizon, where the sun declines; +To mine eyes, that upward, as from vale +To mountain sped, at th’ extreme bound, a part +Excell’d in lustre all the front oppos’d. +And as the glow burns ruddiest o’er the wave, +That waits the sloping beam, which Phaeton +Ill knew to guide, and on each part the light +Diminish’d fades, intensest in the midst; +So burn’d the peaceful oriflame, and slack’d +On every side the living flame decay’d. +And in that midst their sportive pennons wav’d +Thousands of angels; in resplendence each +Distinct, and quaint adornment. At their glee +And carol, smil’d the Lovely One of heav’n, +That joy was in the eyes of all the blest. + +Had I a tongue in eloquence as rich, +As is the colouring in fancy’s loom, +’Twere all too poor to utter the least part +Of that enchantment. When he saw mine eyes +Intent on her, that charm’d him, Bernard gaz’d +With so exceeding fondness, as infus’d +Ardour into my breast, unfelt before. + + + + +CANTO XXXII + + +Freely the sage, though wrapt in musings high, +Assum’d the teacher’s part, and mild began: +“The wound, that Mary clos’d, she open’d first, +Who sits so beautiful at Mary’s feet. +The third in order, underneath her, lo! +Rachel with Beatrice. Sarah next, +Judith, Rebecca, and the gleaner maid, +Meek ancestress of him, who sang the songs +Of sore repentance in his sorrowful mood. +All, as I name them, down from deaf to leaf, +Are in gradation throned on the rose. +And from the seventh step, successively, +Adown the breathing tresses of the flow’r +Still doth the file of Hebrew dames proceed. +For these are a partition wall, whereby +The sacred stairs are sever’d, as the faith +In Christ divides them. On this part, where blooms +Each leaf in full maturity, are set +Such as in Christ, or ere he came, believ’d. +On th’ other, where an intersected space +Yet shows the semicircle void, abide +All they, who look’d to Christ already come. +And as our Lady on her glorious stool, +And they who on their stools beneath her sit, +This way distinction make: e’en so on his, +The mighty Baptist that way marks the line +(He who endur’d the desert and the pains +Of martyrdom, and for two years of hell, +Yet still continued holy), and beneath, +Augustin, Francis, Benedict, and the rest, +Thus far from round to round. So heav’n’s decree +Forecasts, this garden equally to fill. +With faith in either view, past or to come, +Learn too, that downward from the step, which cleaves +Midway the twain compartments, none there are +Who place obtain for merit of their own, +But have through others’ merit been advanc’d, +On set conditions: spirits all releas’d, +Ere for themselves they had the power to choose. +And, if thou mark and listen to them well, +Their childish looks and voice declare as much. + +“Here, silent as thou art, I know thy doubt; +And gladly will I loose the knot, wherein +Thy subtle thoughts have bound thee. From this realm +Excluded, chalice no entrance here may find, +No more shall hunger, thirst, or sorrow can. +A law immutable hath establish’d all; +Nor is there aught thou seest, that doth not fit, +Exactly, as the finger to the ring. +It is not therefore without cause, that these, +O’erspeedy comers to immortal life, +Are different in their shares of excellence. +Our Sovran Lord—that settleth this estate +In love and in delight so absolute, +That wish can dare no further—every soul, +Created in his joyous sight to dwell, +With grace at pleasure variously endows. +And for a proof th’ effect may well suffice. +And ’tis moreover most expressly mark’d +In holy scripture, where the twins are said +To, have struggled in the womb. Therefore, as grace +Inweaves the coronet, so every brow +Weareth its proper hue of orient light. +And merely in respect to his prime gift, +Not in reward of meritorious deed, +Hath each his several degree assign’d. +In early times with their own innocence +More was not wanting, than the parents’ faith, +To save them: those first ages past, behoov’d +That circumcision in the males should imp +The flight of innocent wings: but since the day +Of grace hath come, without baptismal rites +In Christ accomplish’d, innocence herself +Must linger yet below. Now raise thy view +Unto the visage most resembling Christ: +For, in her splendour only, shalt thou win +The pow’r to look on him.” Forthwith I saw +Such floods of gladness on her visage shower’d, +From holy spirits, winging that profound; +That, whatsoever I had yet beheld, +Had not so much suspended me with wonder, +Or shown me such similitude of God. +And he, who had to her descended, once, +On earth, now hail’d in heav’n; and on pois’d wing. +“Ave, Maria, Gratia Plena,” sang: +To whose sweet anthem all the blissful court, +From all parts answ’ring, rang: that holier joy +Brooded the deep serene. “Father rever’d: +Who deign’st, for me, to quit the pleasant place, +Wherein thou sittest, by eternal lot! +Say, who that angel is, that with such glee +Beholds our queen, and so enamour’d glows +Of her high beauty, that all fire he seems.” +So I again resorted to the lore +Of my wise teacher, he, whom Mary’s charms +Embellish’d, as the sun the morning star; +Who thus in answer spake: “In him are summ’d, +Whatever of buxomness and free delight +May be in Spirit, or in angel, met: +And so beseems: for that he bare the palm +Down unto Mary, when the Son of God +Vouchsaf’d to clothe him in terrestrial weeds. +Now let thine eyes wait heedful on my words, +And note thou of this just and pious realm +The chiefest nobles. Those, highest in bliss, +The twain, on each hand next our empress thron’d, +Are as it were two roots unto this rose. +He to the left, the parent, whose rash taste +Proves bitter to his seed; and, on the right, +That ancient father of the holy church, +Into whose keeping Christ did give the keys +Of this sweet flow’r: near whom behold the seer, +That, ere he died, saw all the grievous times +Of the fair bride, who with the lance and nails +Was won. And, near unto the other, rests +The leader, under whom on manna fed +Th’ ungrateful nation, fickle and perverse. +On th’ other part, facing to Peter, lo! +Where Anna sits, so well content to look +On her lov’d daughter, that with moveless eye +She chants the loud hosanna: while, oppos’d +To the first father of your mortal kind, +Is Lucia, at whose hest thy lady sped, +When on the edge of ruin clos’d thine eye. + +“But (for the vision hasteneth so an end) +Here break we off, as the good workman doth, +That shapes the cloak according to the cloth: +And to the primal love our ken shall rise; +That thou mayst penetrate the brightness, far +As sight can bear thee. Yet, alas! in sooth +Beating thy pennons, thinking to advance, +Thou backward fall’st. Grace then must first be gain’d; +Her grace, whose might can help thee. Thou in prayer +Seek her: and, with affection, whilst I sue, +Attend, and yield me all thy heart.” He said, +And thus the saintly orison began. + + + + +CANTO XXXIII + + +“O virgin mother, daughter of thy Son, +Created beings all in lowliness +Surpassing, as in height, above them all, +Term by th’ eternal counsel pre-ordain’d, +Ennobler of thy nature, so advanc’d +In thee, that its great Maker did not scorn, +Himself, in his own work enclos’d to dwell! +For in thy womb rekindling shone the love +Reveal’d, whose genial influence makes now +This flower to germin in eternal peace! +Here thou to us, of charity and love, +Art, as the noon-day torch: and art, beneath, +To mortal men, of hope a living spring. +So mighty art thou, lady! and so great, +That he who grace desireth, and comes not +To thee for aidance, fain would have desire +Fly without wings. Nor only him who asks, +Thy bounty succours, but doth freely oft +Forerun the asking. Whatsoe’er may be +Of excellence in creature, pity mild, +Relenting mercy, large munificence, +Are all combin’d in thee. Here kneeleth one, +Who of all spirits hath review’d the state, +From the world’s lowest gap unto this height. +Suppliant to thee he kneels, imploring grace +For virtue, yet more high to lift his ken +Toward the bliss supreme. And I, who ne’er +Coveted sight, more fondly, for myself, +Than now for him, my prayers to thee prefer, +(And pray they be not scant) that thou wouldst drive +Each cloud of his mortality away; +That on the sovran pleasure he may gaze. +This also I entreat of thee, O queen! +Who canst do what thou wilt! that in him thou +Wouldst after all he hath beheld, preserve +Affection sound, and human passions quell. +Lo! Where, with Beatrice, many a saint +Stretch their clasp’d hands, in furtherance of my suit!” + +The eyes, that heav’n with love and awe regards, +Fix’d on the suitor, witness’d, how benign +She looks on pious pray’rs: then fasten’d they +On th’ everlasting light, wherein no eye +Of creature, as may well be thought, so far +Can travel inward. I, meanwhile, who drew +Near to the limit, where all wishes end, +The ardour of my wish (for so behooved), +Ended within me. Beck’ning smil’d the sage, +That I should look aloft: but, ere he bade, +Already of myself aloft I look’d; +For visual strength, refining more and more, +Bare me into the ray authentical +Of sovran light. Thenceforward, what I saw, +Was not for words to speak, nor memory’s self +To stand against such outrage on her skill. +As one, who from a dream awaken’d, straight, +All he hath seen forgets; yet still retains +Impression of the feeling in his dream; +E’en such am I: for all the vision dies, +As ’twere, away; and yet the sense of sweet, +That sprang from it, still trickles in my heart. +Thus in the sun-thaw is the snow unseal’d; +Thus in the winds on flitting leaves was lost +The Sybil’s sentence. O eternal beam! +(Whose height what reach of mortal thought may soar?) +Yield me again some little particle +Of what thou then appearedst, give my tongue +Power, but to leave one sparkle of thy glory, +Unto the race to come, that shall not lose +Thy triumph wholly, if thou waken aught +Of memory in me, and endure to hear +The record sound in this unequal strain. + +Such keenness from the living ray I met, +That, if mine eyes had turn’d away, methinks, +I had been lost; but, so embolden’d, on +I pass’d, as I remember, till my view +Hover’d the brink of dread infinitude. + +O grace! unenvying of thy boon! that gav’st +Boldness to fix so earnestly my ken +On th’ everlasting splendour, that I look’d, +While sight was unconsum’d, and, in that depth, +Saw in one volume clasp’d of love, whatever +The universe unfolds; all properties +Of substance and of accident, beheld, +Compounded, yet one individual light +The whole. And of such bond methinks I saw +The universal form: for that whenever +I do but speak of it, my soul dilates +Beyond her proper self; and, till I speak, +One moment seems a longer lethargy, +Than five-and-twenty ages had appear’d +To that emprize, that first made Neptune wonder +At Argo’s shadow darkening on his flood. + +With fixed heed, suspense and motionless, +Wond’ring I gaz’d; and admiration still +Was kindled, as I gaz’d. It may not be, +That one, who looks upon that light, can turn +To other object, willingly, his view. +For all the good, that will may covet, there +Is summ’d; and all, elsewhere defective found, +Complete. My tongue shall utter now, no more +E’en what remembrance keeps, than could the babe’s +That yet is moisten’d at his mother’s breast. +Not that the semblance of the living light +Was chang’d (that ever as at first remain’d) +But that my vision quickening, in that sole +Appearance, still new miracles descry’d, +And toil’d me with the change. In that abyss +Of radiance, clear and lofty, seem’d methought, +Three orbs of triple hue clipt in one bound: +And, from another, one reflected seem’d, +As rainbow is from rainbow: and the third +Seem’d fire, breath’d equally from both. Oh speech +How feeble and how faint art thou, to give +Conception birth! Yet this to what I saw +Is less than little. Oh eternal light! +Sole in thyself that dwellst; and of thyself +Sole understood, past, present, or to come! +Thou smiledst; on that circling, which in thee +Seem’d as reflected splendour, while I mus’d; +For I therein, methought, in its own hue +Beheld our image painted: steadfastly +I therefore por’d upon the view. As one +Who vers’d in geometric lore, would fain +Measure the circle; and, though pondering long +And deeply, that beginning, which he needs, +Finds not; e’en such was I, intent to scan +The novel wonder, and trace out the form, +How to the circle fitted, and therein +How plac’d: but the flight was not for my wing; +Had not a flash darted athwart my mind, +And in the spleen unfolded what it sought. + +Here vigour fail’d the tow’ring fantasy: +But yet the will roll’d onward, like a wheel +In even motion, by the Love impell’d, +That moves the sun in heav’n and all the stars. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1007 *** |