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 ‘t was 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 ‘t is 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, ‘t is 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, ‘t were 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 ‘t is 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, ‘T were 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 ‘t is 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 ‘t were, 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.