other editions or translations of ‘The Divine Comedy.’ Please refer to the end of this file for supplemental materials.
Dennis McCarthy, July 1997
imprimatur@juno.com
CONTENTS
Paradiso
I. The Ascent to the First Heaven. The Sphere of Fire. II. The First Heaven, the Moon: Spirits who, having taken Sacred Vows, were forced to violate them. The Lunar Spots. III. Piccarda Donati and the Empress Constance. IV. Questionings of the Soul and of Broken Vows. V. Discourse of Beatrice on Vows and Compensations. Ascent to the Second Heaven, Mercury: Spirits who for the Love of Fame achieved great Deeds. VI. Justinian. The Roman Eagle. The Empire. Romeo. VII. Beatrice’s Discourse of the Crucifixion, the Incarnation, the Immortality of the Soul, and the Resurrection of the Body. VIII. Ascent to the Third Heaven, Venus: Lovers. Charles Martel. Discourse on diverse Natures.
IX. Cunizza da Romano, Folco of Marseilles, and Rahab. Neglect of the Holy Land.
X. The Fourth Heaven, the Sun: Theologians and Fathers of the Church. The First Circle. St. Thomas of Aquinas. XI. St. Thomas recounts the Life of St. Francis. Lament over the State of the Dominican Order.
XII. St. Buonaventura recounts the Life of St. Dominic. Lament over the State of the Franciscan Order. The Second Circle. XIII. Of the Wisdom of Solomon. St. Thomas reproaches Dante’s Judgement.
XIV. The Third Circle. Discourse on the Resurrection of the Flesh. The Fifth Heaven, Mars: Martyrs and Crusaders who died fighting for the true Faith. The Celestial Cross. XV. Cacciaguida. Florence in the Olden Time. XVI. Dante’s Noble Ancestry. Cacciaguida’s Discourse of the Great Florentines.
XVII. Cacciaguida’s Prophecy of Dante’s Banishment. XVIII. The Sixth Heaven, Jupiter: Righteous Kings and Rulers. The Celestial Eagle. Dante’s Invectives against ecclesiastical Avarice.
XIX. The Eagle discourses of Salvation, Faith, and Virtue. Condemnation of the vile Kings of A.D. 1300. XX. The Eagle praises the Righteous Kings of old. Benevolence of the Divine Will.
XXI. The Seventh Heaven, Saturn: The Contemplative. The Celestial Stairway. St. Peter Damiano. His Invectives against the Luxury of the Prelates.
XXII. St. Benedict. His Lamentation over the Corruption of Monks. The Eighth Heaven, the Fixed Stars.
XXIII. The Triumph of Christ. The Virgin Mary. The Apostles. Gabriel.
XXIV. The Radiant Wheel. St. Peter examines Dante on Faith. XXV. The Laurel Crown. St. James examines Dante on Hope. Dante’s Blindness.
XXVI. St. John examines Dante on Charity. Dante’s Sight. Adam. XXVII. St. Peter’s reproof of bad Popes. The Ascent to the Ninth Heaven, the ‘Primum Mobile.’ XXVIII. God and the Angelic Hierarchies. XXIX. Beatrice’s Discourse of the Creation of the Angels, and of the Fall of Lucifer. Her Reproof of Foolish and Avaricious Preachers.
XXX. The Tenth Heaven, or Empyrean. The River of Light. The Two Courts of Heaven. The White Rose of Paradise. The great Throne.
XXXI. The Glory of Paradise. Departure of Beatrice. St. Bernard. XXXII. St. Bernard points out the Saints in the White Rose. XXXIII. Prayer to the Virgin. The Threefold Circle of the Trinity. Mystery of the Divine and Human Nature.
The Divine Comedy
translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (e-text courtesy ILT’s Digital Dante Project)
PARADISO
Paradiso: Canto I
The glory of Him who moveth everything Doth penetrate the universe, and shine
In one part more and in another less.
Within that heaven which most his light receives Was I, and things beheld which to repeat Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends;
Because in drawing near to its desire Our intellect ingulphs itself so far,
That after it the memory cannot go.
Truly whatever of the holy realm
I had the power to treasure in my mind Shall now become the subject of my song.
O good Apollo, for this last emprise
Make of me such a vessel of thy power As giving the beloved laurel asks!
One summit of Parnassus hitherto
Has been enough for me, but now with both I needs must enter the arena left.
Enter into my bosom, thou, and breathe As at the time when Marsyas thou didst draw Out of the scabbard of those limbs of his.
O power divine, lend’st thou thyself to me So that the shadow of the blessed realm Stamped in my brain I can make manifest,
Thou’lt see me come unto thy darling tree, And crown myself thereafter with those leaves Of which the theme and thou shall make me worthy.
So seldom, Father, do we gather them
For triumph or of Caesar or of Poet, (The fault and shame of human inclinations,)
That the Peneian foliage should bring forth Joy to the joyous Delphic deity,
When any one it makes to thirst for it.
A little spark is followed by great flame; Perchance with better voices after me
Shall prayer be made that Cyrrha may respond!
To mortal men by passages diverse
Uprises the world’s lamp; but by that one Which circles four uniteth with three crosses,
With better course and with a better star Conjoined it issues, and the mundane wax Tempers and stamps more after its own fashion.
Almost that passage had made morning there And evening here, and there was wholly white That hemisphere, and black the other part,
When Beatrice towards the left-hand side I saw turned round, and gazing at the sun; Never did eagle fasten so upon it!
And even as a second ray is wont
To issue from the first and reascend, Like to a pilgrim who would fain return,
Thus of her action, through the eyes infused In my imagination, mine I made,
And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont.
There much is lawful which is here unlawful Unto our powers, by virtue of the place Made for the human species as its own.
Not long I bore it, nor so little while But I beheld it sparkle round about
Like iron that comes molten from the fire;
And suddenly it seemed that day to day Was added, as if He who has the power
Had with another sun the heaven adorned.
With eyes upon the everlasting wheels Stood Beatrice all intent, and I, on her Fixing my vision from above removed,
Such at her aspect inwardly became
As Glaucus, tasting of the herb that made him Peer of the other gods beneath the sea.
To represent transhumanise in words
Impossible were; the example, then, suffice Him for whom Grace the experience reserves.
If I was merely what of me thou newly Createdst, Love who governest the heaven, Thou knowest, who didst lift me with thy light!
When now the wheel, which thou dost make eternal Desiring thee, made me attentive to it
By harmony thou dost modulate and measure,
Then seemed to me so much of heaven enkindled By the sun’s flame, that neither rain nor river E’er made a lake so widely spread abroad.
The newness of the sound and the great light Kindled in me a longing for their cause, Never before with such acuteness felt;
Whence she, who saw me as I saw myself, To quiet in me my perturbed mind,
Opened her mouth, ere I did mine to ask,
And she began: “Thou makest thyself so dull With false imagining, that thou seest not What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off.
Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest; But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site, Ne’er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest.”
If of my former doubt I was divested
By these brief little words more smiled than spoken, I in a new one was the more ensnared;
And said: “Already did I rest content From great amazement; but am now amazed In what way I transcend these bodies light.”
Whereupon she, after a pitying sigh,
Her eyes directed tow’rds me with that look A mother casts on a delirious child;
And she began: “All things whate’er they be Have order among themselves, and this is form, That makes the universe resemble God.
Here do the higher creatures see the footprints Of the Eternal Power, which is the end
Whereto is made the law already mentioned.
In the order that I speak of are inclined All natures, by their destinies diverse, More or less near unto their origin;
Hence they move onward unto ports diverse O’er the great sea of being; and each one With instinct given it which bears it on.
This bears away the fire towards the moon; This is in mortal hearts the motive power This binds together and unites the earth.
Nor only the created things that are
Without intelligence this bow shoots forth, But those that have both intellect and love.
The Providence that regulates all this Makes with its light the heaven forever quiet, Wherein that turns which has the greatest haste.
And thither now, as to a site decreed, Bears us away the virtue of that cord
Which aims its arrows at a joyous mark.
True is it, that as oftentimes the form Accords not with the intention of the art, Because in answering is matter deaf,
So likewise from this course doth deviate Sometimes the creature, who the power possesses, Though thus impelled, to swerve some other way,
(In the same wise as one may see the fire Fall from a cloud,) if the first impetus Earthward is wrested by some false delight.
Thou shouldst not wonder more, if well I judge, At thine ascent, than at a rivulet
From some high mount descending to the lowland.
Marvel it would be in thee, if deprived Of hindrance, thou wert seated down below, As if on earth the living fire were quiet.”
Thereat she heavenward turned again her face.
Paradiso: Canto II
O Ye, who in some pretty little boat, Eager to listen, have been following
Behind my ship, that singing sails along,
Turn back to look again upon your shores; Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure, In losing me, you might yourselves be lost.
The sea I sail has never yet been passed; Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears.
Ye other few who have the neck uplifted Betimes to th’ bread of Angels upon which One liveth here and grows not sated by it,
Well may you launch upon the deep salt-sea Your vessel, keeping still my wake before you Upon the water that grows smooth again.
Those glorious ones who unto Colchos passed Were not so wonder-struck as you shall be, When Jason they beheld a ploughman made!
The con-created and perpetual thirst
For the realm deiform did bear us on, As swift almost as ye the heavens behold.
Upward gazed Beatrice, and I at her;
And in such space perchance as strikes a bolt And flies, and from the notch unlocks itself,
Arrived I saw me where a wondrous thing Drew to itself my sight; and therefore she From whom no care of mine could be concealed,
Towards me turning, blithe as beautiful, Said unto me: “Fix gratefully thy mind
On God, who unto the first star has brought us.”
It seemed to me a cloud encompassed us, Luminous, dense, consolidate and bright As adamant on which the sun is striking.
Into itself did the eternal pearl
Receive us, even as water doth receive A ray of light, remaining still unbroken.
If I was body, (and we here conceive not How one dimension tolerates another,
Which needs must be if body enter body,)
More the desire should be enkindled in us That essence to behold, wherein is seen How God and our own nature were united.
There will be seen what we receive by faith, Not demonstrated, but self-evident
In guise of the first truth that man believes.
I made reply: “Madonna, as devoutly
As most I can do I give thanks to Him Who has removed me from the mortal world.
But tell me what the dusky spots may be Upon this body, which below on earth
Make people tell that fabulous tale of Cain?”
Somewhat she smiled; and then, “If the opinion Of mortals be erroneous,” she said,
“Where’er the key of sense doth not unlock,
Certes, the shafts of wonder should not pierce thee Now, forasmuch as, following the senses, Thou seest that the reason has short wings.
But tell me what thou think’st of it thyself.” And I: “What seems to us up here diverse, Is caused, I think, by bodies rare and dense.”
And she: “Right truly shalt thou see immersed In error thy belief, if well thou hearest The argument that I shall make against it.
Lights many the eighth sphere displays to you Which in their quality and quantity
May noted be of aspects different.
If this were caused by rare and dense alone, One only virtue would there be in all
Or more or less diffused, or equally.
Virtues diverse must be perforce the fruits Of formal principles; and these, save one, Of course would by thy reasoning be destroyed.
Besides, if rarity were of this dimness The cause thou askest, either through and through This planet thus attenuate were of matter,
Or else, as in a body is apportioned
The fat and lean, so in like manner this Would in its volume interchange the leaves.
Were it the former, in the sun’s eclipse It would be manifest by the shining through Of light, as through aught tenuous interfused.
This is not so; hence we must scan the other, And if it chance the other I demolish,
Then falsified will thy opinion be.
But if this rarity go not through and through, There needs must be a limit, beyond which Its contrary prevents the further passing,
And thence the foreign radiance is reflected, Even as a colour cometh back from glass, The which behind itself concealeth lead.
Now thou wilt say the sunbeam shows itself More dimly there than in the other parts, By being there reflected farther back.
From this reply experiment will free thee If e’er thou try it, which is wont to be The fountain to the rivers of your arts.
Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove Alike from thee, the other more remote
Between the former two shall meet thine eyes.
Turned towards these, cause that behind thy back Be placed a light, illuming the three mirrors And coming back to thee by all reflected.
Though in its quantity be not so ample The image most remote, there shalt thou see How it perforce is equally resplendent.
Now, as beneath the touches of warm rays Naked the subject of the snow remains
Both of its former colour and its cold,
Thee thus remaining in thy intellect, Will I inform with such a living light, That it shall tremble in its aspect to thee.
Within the heaven of the divine repose Revolves a body, in whose virtue lies
The being of whatever it contains.
The following heaven, that has so many eyes, Divides this being by essences diverse, Distinguished from it, and by it contained.
The other spheres, by various differences, All the distinctions which they have within them Dispose unto their ends and their effects.
Thus do these organs of the world proceed, As thou perceivest now, from grade to grade; Since from above they take, and act beneath.
Observe me well, how through this place I come Unto the truth thou wishest, that hereafter Thou mayst alone know how to keep the ford
The power and motion of the holy spheres, As from the artisan the hammer’s craft, Forth from the blessed motors must proceed.
The heaven, which lights so manifold make fair, From the Intelligence profound, which turns it, The image takes, and makes of it a seal.
And even as the soul within your dust Through members different and accommodated To faculties diverse expands itself,
So likewise this Intelligence diffuses Its virtue multiplied among the stars.
Itself revolving on its unity.
Virtue diverse doth a diverse alloyage Make with the precious body that it quickens, In which, as life in you, it is combined.
From the glad nature whence it is derived, The mingled virtue through the body shines, Even as gladness through the living pupil.
From this proceeds whate’er from light to light Appeareth different, not from dense and rare: This is the formal principle that produces,
According to its goodness, dark and bright.”
Paradiso: Canto III
That Sun, which erst with love my bosom warmed, Of beauteous truth had unto me discovered, By proving and reproving, the sweet aspect.
And, that I might confess myself convinced And confident, so far as was befitting, I lifted more erect my head to speak.
But there appeared a vision, which withdrew me So close to it, in order to be seen,
That my confession I remembered not.
Such as through polished and transparent glass, Or waters crystalline and undisturbed,
But not so deep as that their bed be lost,
Come back again the outlines of our faces So feeble, that a pearl on forehead white Comes not less speedily unto our eyes;
Such saw I many faces prompt to speak, So that I ran in error opposite
To that which kindled love ‘twixt man and fountain.
As soon as I became aware of them,
Esteeming them as mirrored semblances, To see of whom they were, mine eyes I turned,
And nothing saw, and once more turned them forward Direct into the light of my sweet Guide, Who smiling kindled in her holy eyes.
“Marvel thou not,” she said to me, “because I smile at this thy puerile conceit,
Since on the truth it trusts not yet its foot,
But turns thee, as ’tis wont, on emptiness. True substances are these which thou beholdest, Here relegate for breaking of some vow.
Therefore speak with them, listen and believe; For the true light, which giveth peace to them, Permits them not to turn from it their feet.”
And I unto the shade that seemed most wishful To speak directed me, and I began,
As one whom too great eagerness bewilders:
“O well-created spirit, who in the rays Of life eternal dost the sweetness taste Which being untasted ne’er is comprehended,
Grateful ’twill be to me, if thou content me Both with thy name and with your destiny.” Whereat she promptly and with laughing eyes:
“Our charity doth never shut the doors Against a just desire, except as one
Who wills that all her court be like herself.
I was a virgin sister in the world;
And if thy mind doth contemplate me well, The being more fair will not conceal me from thee,
But thou shalt recognise I am Piccarda, Who, stationed here among these other blessed, Myself am blessed in the slowest sphere.
All our affections, that alone inflamed Are in the pleasure of the Holy Ghost,
Rejoice at being of his order formed;
And this allotment, which appears so low, Therefore is given us, because our vows Have been neglected and in some part void.”
Whence I to her: “In your miraculous aspects There shines I know not what of the divine, Which doth transform you from our first conceptions.
Therefore I was not swift in my remembrance; But what thou tellest me now aids me so, That the refiguring is easier to me.
But tell me, ye who in this place are happy, Are you desirous of a higher place,
To see more or to make yourselves more friends?”
First with those other shades she smiled a little; Thereafter answered me so full of gladness, She seemed to burn in the first fire of love:
“Brother, our will is quieted by virtue Of charity, that makes us wish alone
For what we have, nor gives us thirst for more.
If to be more exalted we aspired,
Discordant would our aspirations be Unto the will of Him who here secludes us;
Which thou shalt see finds no place in these circles, If being in charity is needful here,
And if thou lookest well into its nature;
Nay, ’tis essential to this blest existence To keep itself within the will divine,
Whereby our very wishes are made one;
So that, as we are station above station Throughout this realm, to all the realm ’tis pleasing, As to the King, who makes his will our will.
And his will is our peace; this is the sea To which is moving onward whatsoever
It doth create, and all that nature makes.”
Then it was clear to me how everywhere In heaven is Paradise, although the grace Of good supreme there rain not in one measure.
But as it comes to pass, if one food sates, And for another still remains the longing, We ask for this, and that decline with thanks,
E’en thus did I; with gesture and with word, To learn from her what was the web wherein She did not ply the shuttle to the end.
“A perfect life and merit high in-heaven A lady o’er us,” said she, “by whose rule Down in your world they vest and veil themselves,
That until death they may both watch and sleep Beside that Spouse who every vow accepts Which charity conformeth to his pleasure.
To follow her, in girlhood from the world I fled, and in her habit shut myself,
And pledged me to the pathway of her sect.
Then men accustomed unto evil more
Than unto good, from the sweet cloister tore me; God knows what afterward my life became.
This other splendour, which to thee reveals Itself on my right side, and is enkindled With all the illumination of our sphere,
What of myself I say applies to her;
A nun was she, and likewise from her head Was ta’en the shadow of the sacred wimple.
But when she too was to the world returned Against her wishes and against good usage, Of the heart’s veil she never was divested.
Of great Costanza this is the effulgence, Who from the second wind of Suabia
Brought forth the third and latest puissance.”
Thus unto me she spake, and then began “Ave Maria” singing, and in singing
Vanished, as through deep water something heavy.
My sight, that followed her as long a time As it was possible, when it had lost her Turned round unto the mark of more desire,
And wholly unto Beatrice reverted;
But she such lightnings flashed into mine eyes, That at the first my sight endured it not;
And this in questioning more backward made me.
Paradiso: Canto IV
Between two viands, equally removed
And tempting, a free man would die of hunger Ere either he could bring unto his teeth.
So would a lamb between the ravenings Of two fierce wolves stand fearing both alike; And so would stand a dog between two does.
Hence, if I held my peace, myself I blame not, Impelled in equal measure by my doubts, Since it must be so, nor do I commend.
I held my peace; but my desire was painted Upon my face, and questioning with that More fervent far than by articulate speech.
Beatrice did as Daniel had done
Relieving Nebuchadnezzar from the wrath Which rendered him unjustly merciless,
And said: “Well see I how attracteth thee One and the other wish, so that thy care Binds itself so that forth it does not breathe.
Thou arguest, if good will be permanent, The violence of others, for what reason Doth it decrease the measure of my merit?
Again for doubting furnish thee occasion Souls seeming to return unto the stars, According to the sentiment of Plato.
These are the questions which upon thy wish Are thrusting equally; and therefore first Will I treat that which hath the most of gall.
He of the Seraphim most absorbed in God, Moses, and Samuel, and whichever John
Thou mayst select, I say, and even Mary,
Have not in any other heaven their seats, Than have those spirits that just appeared to thee, Nor of existence more or fewer years;
But all make beautiful the primal circle, And have sweet life in different degrees, By feeling more or less the eternal breath.
They showed themselves here, not because allotted This sphere has been to them, but to give sign Of the celestial which is least exalted.
To speak thus is adapted to your mind, Since only through the sense it apprehendeth What then it worthy makes of intellect.
On this account the Scripture condescends Unto your faculties, and feet and hands To God attributes, and means something else;
And Holy Church under an aspect human Gabriel and Michael represent to you,
And him who made Tobias whole again.
That which Timaeus argues of the soul Doth not resemble that which here is seen, Because it seems that as he speaks he thinks.
He says the soul unto its star returns, Believing it to have been severed thence Whenever nature gave it as a form.
Perhaps his doctrine is of other guise Than the words sound, and possibly may be With meaning that is not to be derided.
If he doth mean that to these wheels return The honour of their influence and the blame, Perhaps his bow doth hit upon some truth.
This principle ill understood once warped The whole world nearly, till it went astray Invoking Jove and Mercury and Mars.
The other doubt which doth disquiet thee Less venom has, for its malevolence
Could never lead thee otherwhere from me.
That as unjust our justice should appear In eyes of mortals, is an argument
Of faith, and not of sin heretical.
But still, that your perception may be able To thoroughly penetrate this verity,
As thou desirest, I will satisfy thee.
If it be violence when he who suffers Co-operates not with him who uses force, These souls were not on that account excused;
For will is never quenched unless it will, But operates as nature doth in fire
If violence a thousand times distort it.
Hence, if it yieldeth more or less, it seconds The force; and these have done so, having power Of turning back unto the holy place.
If their will had been perfect, like to that Which Lawrence fast upon his gridiron held, And Mutius made severe to his own hand,
It would have urged them back along the road Whence they were dragged, as soon as they were free; But such a solid will is all too rare.
And by these words, if thou hast gathered them As thou shouldst do, the argument is refuted That would have still annoyed thee many times.
But now another passage runs across
Before thine eyes, and such that by thyself Thou couldst not thread it ere thou wouldst be weary.
I have for certain put into thy mind
That soul beatified could never lie, For it is near the primal Truth,
And then thou from Piccarda might’st have heard Costanza kept affection for the veil,
So that she seemeth here to contradict me.
Many times, brother, has it come to pass, That, to escape from peril, with reluctance That has been done it was not right to do,
E’en as Alcmaeon (who, being by his father Thereto entreated, his own mother slew) Not to lose pity pitiless became.
At this point I desire thee to remember That force with will commingles, and they cause That the offences cannot be excused.
Will absolute consenteth not to evil; But in so far consenteth as it fears,
If it refrain, to fall into more harm.
Hence when Piccarda uses this expression, She meaneth the will absolute, and I
The other, so that both of us speak truth.”
Such was the flowing of the holy river That issued from the fount whence springs all truth; This put to rest my wishes one and all.
“O love of the first lover, O divine,” Said I forthwith, “whose speech inundates me And warms me so, it more and more revives me,
My own affection is not so profound
As to suffice in rendering grace for grace; Let Him, who sees and can, thereto respond.
Well I perceive that never sated is
Our intellect unless the Truth illume it, Beyond which nothing true expands itself.
It rests therein, as wild beast in his lair, When it attains it; and it can attain it; If not, then each desire would frustrate be.
Therefore springs up, in fashion of a shoot, Doubt at the foot of truth; and this is nature, Which to the top from height to height impels us.
This doth invite me, this assurance give me With reverence, Lady, to inquire of you Another truth, which is obscure to me.
I wish to know if man can satisfy you For broken vows with other good deeds, so That in your balance they will not be light.”
Beatrice gazed upon me with her eyes
Full of the sparks of love, and so divine, That, overcome my power, I turned my back
And almost lost myself with eyes downcast.
Paradiso: Canto V
“If in the heat of love I flame upon thee Beyond the measure that on earth is seen, So that the valour of thine eyes I vanquish,
Marvel thou not thereat; for this proceeds From perfect sight, which as it apprehends To the good apprehended moves its feet.
Well I perceive how is already shining Into thine intellect the eternal light, That only seen enkindles always love;
And if some other thing your love seduce, ‘Tis nothing but a vestige of the same, Ill understood, which there is shining through.
Thou fain wouldst know if with another service For broken vow can such return be made
As to secure the soul from further claim.”
This Canto thus did Beatrice begin;
And, as a man who breaks not off his speech, Continued thus her holy argument:
“The greatest gift that in his largess God Creating made, and unto his own goodness Nearest conformed, and that which he doth prize
Most highly, is the freedom of the will, Wherewith the creatures of intelligence Both all and only were and are endowed.
Now wilt thou see, if thence thou reasonest, The high worth of a vow, if it he made
So that when thou consentest God consents:
For, closing between God and man the compact, A sacrifice is of this treasure made,
Such as I say, and made by its own act.
What can be rendered then as compensation? Think’st thou to make good use of what thou’st offered, With gains ill gotten thou wouldst do good deed.
Now art thou certain of the greater point; But because Holy Church in this dispenses, Which seems against the truth which I have shown thee,
Behoves thee still to sit awhile at table, Because the solid food which thou hast taken Requireth further aid for thy digestion.
Open thy mind to that which I reveal, And fix it there within; for ’tis not knowledge, The having heard without retaining it.
In the essence of this sacrifice two things Convene together; and the one is that
Of which ’tis made, the other is the agreement.
This last for evermore is cancelled not Unless complied with, and concerning this With such precision has above been spoken.
Therefore it was enjoined upon the Hebrews To offer still, though sometimes what was offered Might be commuted, as thou ought’st to know.
The other, which is known to thee as matter, May well indeed be such that one errs not If it for other matter be exchanged.
But let none shift the burden on his shoulder At his arbitrament, without the turning Both of the white and of the yellow key;
And every permutation deem as foolish, If in the substitute the thing relinquished, As the four is in six, be not contained.
Therefore whatever thing has so great weight In value that it drags down every balance, Cannot be satisfied with other spending.
Let mortals never take a vow in jest; Be faithful and not blind in doing that, As Jephthah was in his first offering,
Whom more beseemed to say, ‘I have done wrong, Than to do worse by keeping; and as foolish Thou the great leader of the Greeks wilt find,
Whence wept Iphigenia her fair face,
And made for her both wise and simple weep, Who heard such kind of worship spoken of.’
Christians, be ye more serious in your movements; Be ye not like a feather at each wind,
And think not every water washes you.
Ye have the Old and the New Testament, And the Pastor of the Church who guideth you Let this suffice you unto your salvation.
If evil appetite cry aught else to you, Be ye as men, and not as silly sheep,
So that the Jew among you may not mock you.
Be ye not as the lamb that doth abandon Its mother’s milk, and frolicsome and simple Combats at its own pleasure with itself.”
Thus Beatrice to me even as I write it; Then all desireful turned herself again To that part where the world is most alive.
Her silence and her change of countenance Silence imposed upon my eager mind,
That had already in advance new questions;
And as an arrow that upon the mark
Strikes ere the bowstring quiet hath become, So did we speed into the second realm.
My Lady there so joyful I beheld,
As into the brightness of that heaven she entered, More luminous thereat the planet grew;
And if the star itself was changed and smiled, What became I, who by my nature am
Exceeding mutable in every guise!
As, in a fish-pond which is pure and tranquil, The fishes draw to that which from without Comes in such fashion that their food they deem it;
So I beheld more than a thousand splendours Drawing towards us, and in each was heard: “Lo, this is she who shall increase our love.”
And as each one was coming unto us,
Full of beatitude the shade was seen, By the effulgence clear that issued from it.
Think, Reader, if what here is just beginning No farther should proceed, how thou wouldst have An agonizing need of knowing more;
And of thyself thou’lt see how I from these Was in desire of hearing their conditions, As they unto mine eyes were manifest.
“O thou well-born, unto whom Grace concedes To see the thrones of the eternal triumph, Or ever yet the warfare be abandoned
With light that through the whole of heaven is spread Kindled are we, and hence if thou desirest To know of us, at thine own pleasure sate thee.”
Thus by some one among those holy spirits Was spoken, and by Beatrice: “Speak, speak Securely, and believe them even as Gods.”
“Well I perceive how thou dost nest thyself In thine own light, and drawest it from thine eyes, Because they coruscate when thou dost smile,
But know not who thou art, nor why thou hast, Spirit august, thy station in the sphere That veils itself to men in alien rays.”
This said I in direction of the light Which first had spoken to me; whence it became By far more lucent than it was before.
Even as the sun, that doth conceal himself By too much light, when heat has worn away The tempering influence of the vapours dense,
By greater rapture thus concealed itself In its own radiance the figure saintly, And thus close, close enfolded answered me
In fashion as the following Canto sings.
Paradiso: Canto VI
“After that Constantine the eagle turned Against the course of heaven, which it had followed Behind the ancient who Lavinia took,
Two hundred years and more the bird of God In the extreme of Europe held itself,
Near to the mountains whence it issued first;
And under shadow of the sacred plumes It governed there the world from hand to hand, And, changing thus, upon mine own alighted.
Caesar I was, and am Justinian,
Who, by the will of primal Love I feel, Took from the laws the useless and redundant;
And ere unto the work I was attent,
One nature to exist in Christ, not more, Believed, and with such faith was I contented.
But blessed Agapetus, he who was
The supreme pastor, to the faith sincere Pointed me out the way by words of his.
Him I believed, and what was his assertion I now see clearly, even as thou seest
Each contradiction to be false and true.
As soon as with the Church I moved my feet, God in his grace it pleased with this high task To inspire me, and I gave me wholly to it,
And to my Belisarius I commended
The arms, to which was heaven’s right hand so joined It was a signal that I should repose.
Now here to the first question terminates My answer; but the character thereof
Constrains me to continue with a sequel,
In order that thou see with how great reason Men move against the standard sacrosanct, Both who appropriate and who oppose it.
Behold how great a power has made it worthy Of reverence, beginning from the hour
When Pallas died to give it sovereignty.
Thou knowest it made in Alba its abode Three hundred years and upward, till at last The three to three fought for it yet again.
Thou knowest what it achieved from Sabine wrong Down to Lucretia’s sorrow, in seven kings O’ercoming round about the neighboring nations;
Thou knowest what it achieved, borne by the Romans Illustrious against Brennus, against Pyrrhus, Against the other princes and confederates.
Torquatus thence and Quinctius, who from locks Unkempt was named, Decii and Fabii,
Received the fame I willingly embalm;
It struck to earth the pride of the Arabians, Who, following Hannibal, had passed across The Alpine ridges, Po, from which thou glidest;
Beneath it triumphed while they yet were young Pompey and Scipio, and to the hill
Beneath which thou wast born it bitter seemed;
Then, near unto the time when heaven had willed To bring the whole world to its mood serene, Did Caesar by the will of Rome assume it.
What it achieved from Var unto the Rhine, Isere beheld and Saone, beheld the Seine, And every valley whence the Rhone is filled;
What it achieved when it had left Ravenna, And leaped the Rubicon, was such a flight That neither tongue nor pen could follow it.
Round towards Spain it wheeled its legions; then Towards Durazzo, and Pharsalia smote
That to the calid Nile was felt the pain.
Antandros and the Simois, whence it started, It saw again, and there where Hector lies, And ill for Ptolemy then roused itself.
From thence it came like lightning upon Juba; Then wheeled itself again into your West, Where the Pompeian clarion it heard.
From what it wrought with the next standard-bearer Brutus and Cassius howl in Hell together, And Modena and Perugia dolent were;
Still doth the mournful Cleopatra weep Because thereof, who, fleeing from before it, Took from the adder sudden and black death.
With him it ran even to the Red Sea shore; With him it placed the world in so great peace, That unto Janus was his temple closed.
But what the standard that has made me speak Achieved before, and after should achieve Throughout the mortal realm that lies beneath it,
Becometh in appearance mean and dim,
If in the hand of the third Caesar seen With eye unclouded and affection pure,
Because the living Justice that inspires me Granted it, in the hand of him I speak of, The glory of doing vengeance for its wrath.
Now here attend to what I answer thee; Later it ran with Titus to do vengeance Upon the vengeance of the ancient sin.
And when the tooth of Lombardy had bitten The Holy Church, then underneath its wings Did Charlemagne victorious succor her.
Now hast thou power to judge of such as those Whom I accused above, and of their crimes, Which are the cause of all your miseries.
To the public standard one the yellow lilies Opposes, the other claims it for a party, So that ’tis hard to see which sins the most.
Let, let the Ghibellines ply their handicraft Beneath some other standard; for this ever Ill follows he who it and justice parts.
And let not this new Charles e’er strike it down, He and his Guelfs, but let him fear the talons That from a nobler lion stripped the fell.
Already oftentimes the sons have wept The father’s crime; and let him not believe That God will change His scutcheon for the lilies.
This little planet doth adorn itself
With the good spirits that have active been, That fame and honour might come after them;
And whensoever the desires mount thither, Thus deviating, must perforce the rays
Of the true love less vividly mount upward.
But in commensuration of our wages
With our desert is portion of our joy, Because we see them neither less nor greater.
Herein doth living Justice sweeten so Affection in us, that for evermore
It cannot warp to any iniquity.
Voices diverse make up sweet melodies; So in this life of ours the seats diverse Render sweet harmony among these spheres;
And in the compass of this present pearl Shineth the sheen of Romeo, of whom
The grand and beauteous work was ill rewarded.
But the Provencals who against him wrought, They have not laughed, and therefore ill goes he Who makes his hurt of the good deeds of others.
Four daughters, and each one of them a queen, Had Raymond Berenger, and this for him
Did Romeo, a poor man and a pilgrim;
And then malicious words incited him
To summon to a reckoning this just man, Who rendered to him seven and five for ten.
Then he departed poor and stricken in years, And if the world could know the heart he had, In begging bit by bit his livelihood,
Though much it laud him, it would laud him more.”
Paradiso: Canto VII
“Osanna sanctus Deus Sabaoth,
Superillustrans claritate tua
Felices ignes horum malahoth!”
In this wise, to his melody returning, This substance, upon which a double light Doubles itself, was seen by me to sing,
And to their dance this and the others moved, And in the manner of swift-hurrying sparks Veiled themselves from me with a sudden distance.
Doubting was I, and saying, “Tell her, tell her,” Within me, “tell her,” saying, “tell my Lady,” Who slakes my thirst with her sweet effluences;
And yet that reverence which doth lord it over The whole of me only by B and ICE,
Bowed me again like unto one who drowses.
Short while did Beatrice endure me thus; And she began, lighting me with a smile Such as would make one happy in the fire:
“According to infallible advisement,
After what manner a just vengeance justly Could be avenged has put thee upon thinking,
But I will speedily thy mind unloose; And do thou listen, for these words of mine Of a great doctrine will a present make thee.
By not enduring on the power that wills Curb for his good, that man who ne’er was born, Damning himself damned all his progeny;
Whereby the human species down below
Lay sick for many centuries in great error, Till to descend it pleased the Word of God
To where the nature, which from its own Maker Estranged itself, he joined to him in person By the sole act of his eternal love.
Now unto what is said direct thy sight; This nature when united to its Maker,
Such as created, was sincere and good;
But by itself alone was banished forth From Paradise, because it turned aside
Out of the way of truth and of its life.
Therefore the penalty the cross held out, If measured by the nature thus assumed, None ever yet with so great justice stung,
And none was ever of so great injustice, Considering who the Person was that suffered, Within whom such a nature was contracted.
From one act therefore issued things diverse; To God and to the Jews one death was pleasing; Earth trembled at it and the Heaven was opened.
It should no longer now seem difficult To thee, when it is said that a just vengeance By a just court was afterward avenged.
But now do I behold thy mind entangled From thought to thought within a knot, from which With great desire it waits to free itself.
Thou sayest, ‘Well discern I what I hear; But it is hidden from me why God willed For our redemption only this one mode.’
Buried remaineth, brother, this decree Unto the eyes of every one whose nature Is in the flame of love not yet adult.
Verily, inasmuch as at this mark
One gazes long and little is discerned, Wherefore this mode was worthiest will I say.
Goodness Divine, which from itself doth spurn All envy, burning in itself so sparkles That the eternal beauties it unfolds.
Whate’er from this immediately distils Has afterwards no end, for ne’er removed Is its impression when it sets its seal.
Whate’er from this immediately rains down Is wholly free, because it is not subject Unto the influences of novel things.
The more conformed thereto, the more it pleases; For the blest ardour that irradiates all things In that most like itself is most vivacious.
With all of these things has advantaged been The human creature; and if one be wanting, From his nobility he needs must fall.
‘Tis sin alone which doth disfranchise him, And render him unlike the Good Supreme, So that he little with its light is blanched,
And to his dignity no more returns,
Unless he fill up where transgression empties With righteous pains for criminal delights.
Your nature when it sinned so utterly In its own seed, out of these dignities Even as out of Paradise was driven,
Nor could itself recover, if thou notest With nicest subtilty, by any way,
Except by passing one of these two fords:
Either that God through clemency alone Had pardon granted, or that man himself Had satisfaction for his folly made.
Fix now thine eye deep into the abyss Of the eternal counsel, to my speech
As far as may be fastened steadfastly!
Man in his limitations had not power
To satisfy, not having power to sink In his humility obeying then,
Far as he disobeying thought to rise; And for this reason man has been from power Of satisfying by himself excluded.
Therefore it God behoved in his own ways Man to restore unto his perfect life,
I say in one, or else in both of them.
But since the action of the doer is
So much more grateful, as it more presents The goodness of the heart from which it issues,
Goodness Divine, that doth imprint the world, Has been contented to proceed by each
And all its ways to lift you up again;
Nor ‘twixt the first day and the final night Such high and such magnificent proceeding By one or by the other was or shall be;
For God more bounteous was himself to give To make man able to uplift himself,
Than if he only of himself had pardoned;
And all the other modes were insufficient For justice, were it not the Son of God Himself had humbled to become incarnate.
Now, to fill fully each desire of thine, Return I to elucidate one place,
In order that thou there mayst see as I do.
Thou sayst: ‘I see the air, I see the fire, The water, and the earth, and all their mixtures Come to corruption, and short while endure;
And these things notwithstanding were created;’ Therefore if that which I have said were true, They should have been secure against corruption.
The Angels, brother, and the land sincere In which thou art, created may be called Just as they are in their entire existence;
But all the elements which thou hast named, And all those things which out of them are made, By a created virtue are informed.
Created was the matter which they have; Created was the informing influence
Within these stars that round about them go.
The soul of every brute and of the plants By its potential temperament attracts
The ray and motion of the holy lights;
But your own life immediately inspires Supreme Beneficence, and enamours it
So with herself, it evermore desires her.
And thou from this mayst argue furthermore Your resurrection, if thou think again
How human flesh was fashioned at that time
When the first parents both of them were made.”
Paradiso: Canto VIII
The world used in its peril to believe That the fair Cypria delirious love
Rayed out, in the third epicycle turning;
Wherefore not only unto her paid honour Of sacrifices and of votive cry
The ancient nations in the ancient error,
But both Dione honoured they and Cupid, That as her mother, this one as her son, And said that he had sat in Dido’s lap;
And they from her, whence I beginning take, Took the denomination of the star
That woos the sun, now following, now in front.
I was not ware of our ascending to it; But of our being in it gave full faith
My Lady whom I saw more beauteous grow.
And as within a flame a spark is seen, And as within a voice a voice discerned, When one is steadfast, and one comes and goes,
Within that light beheld I other lamps Move in a circle, speeding more and less, Methinks in measure of their inward vision.
From a cold cloud descended never winds, Or visible or not, so rapidly
They would not laggard and impeded seem
To any one who had those lights divine Seen come towards us, leaving the gyration Begun at first in the high Seraphim.
And behind those that most in front appeared Sounded “Osanna!” so that never since
To hear again was I without desire.
Then unto us more nearly one approached, And it alone began: “We all are ready
Unto thy pleasure, that thou joy in us.
We turn around with the celestial Princes, One gyre and one gyration and one thirst, To whom thou in the world of old didst say,
‘Ye who, intelligent, the third heaven are moving;’ And are so full of love, to pleasure thee A little quiet will not be less sweet.”
After these eyes of mine themselves had offered Unto my Lady reverently, and she
Content and certain of herself had made them,
Back to the light they turned, which so great promise Made of itself, and “Say, who art thou?” was My voice, imprinted with a great affection.
O how and how much I beheld it grow
With the new joy that superadded was Unto its joys, as soon as I had spoken!
Thus changed, it said to me: “The world possessed me Short time below; and, if it had been more, Much evil will be which would not have been.
My gladness keepeth me concealed from thee, Which rayeth round about me, and doth hide me Like as a creature swathed in its own silk.
Much didst thou love me, and thou hadst good reason; For had I been below, I should have shown thee Somewhat beyond the foliage of my love.
That left-hand margin, which doth bathe itself In Rhone, when it is mingled with the Sorgue, Me for its lord awaited in due time,
And that horn of Ausonia, which is towned With Bari, with Gaeta and Catona,
Whence Tronto and Verde in the sea disgorge.
Already flashed upon my brow the crown Of that dominion which the Danube waters After the German borders it abandons;
And beautiful Trinacria, that is murky ‘Twixt Pachino and Peloro, (on the gulf Which greatest scath from Eurus doth receive,)
Not through Typhoeus, but through nascent sulphur, Would have awaited her own monarchs still, Through me from Charles descended and from Rudolph,
If evil lordship, that exasperates ever The subject populations, had not moved
Palermo to the outcry of ‘Death! death!’
And if my brother could but this foresee, The greedy poverty of Catalonia
Straight would he flee, that it might not molest him;
For verily ’tis needful to provide,
Through him or other, so that on his bark Already freighted no more freight be placed.
His nature, which from liberal covetous Descended, such a soldiery would need
As should not care for hoarding in a chest.”
“Because I do believe the lofty joy
Thy speech infuses into me, my Lord, Where every good thing doth begin and end
Thou seest as I see it, the more grateful Is it to me; and this too hold I dear,
That gazing upon God thou dost discern it.
Glad hast thou made me; so make clear to me, Since speaking thou hast stirred me up to doubt, How from sweet seed can bitter issue forth.”
This I to him; and he to me: “If I
Can show to thee a truth, to what thou askest Thy face thou’lt hold as thou dost hold thy back.
The Good which all the realm thou art ascending Turns and contents, maketh its providence To be a power within these bodies vast;
And not alone the natures are foreseen Within the mind that in itself is perfect, But they together with their preservation.
For whatsoever thing this bow shoots forth Falls foreordained unto an end foreseen, Even as a shaft directed to its mark.
If that were not, the heaven which thou dost walk Would in such manner its effects produce, That they no longer would be arts, but ruins.
This cannot be, if the Intelligences
That keep these stars in motion are not maimed, And maimed the First that has not made them perfect.
Wilt thou this truth have clearer made to thee?” And I: “Not so; for ’tis impossible
That nature tire, I see, in what is needful.”
Whence he again: “Now say, would it be worse For men on earth were they not citizens?” “Yes,” I replied; “and here I ask no reason.”
“And can they be so, if below they live not Diversely unto offices diverse?
No, if your master writeth well for you.”
So came he with deductions to this point; Then he concluded: “Therefore it behoves The roots of your effects to be diverse.
Hence one is Solon born, another Xerxes, Another Melchisedec, and another he
Who, flying through the air, his son did lose.
Revolving Nature, which a signet is
To mortal wax, doth practise well her art, But not one inn distinguish from another;
Thence happens it that Esau differeth In seed from Jacob; and Quirinus comes
From sire so vile that he is given to Mars.
A generated nature its own way
Would always make like its progenitors, If Providence divine were not triumphant.
Now that which was behind thee is before thee; But that thou know that I with thee am pleased, With a corollary will I mantle thee.
Evermore nature, if it fortune find
Discordant to it, like each other seed Out of its region, maketh evil thrift;
And if the world below would fix its mind On the foundation which is laid by nature, Pursuing that, ‘twould have the people good.
But you unto religion wrench aside
Him who was born to gird him with the sword, And make a king of him who is for sermons;
Therefore your footsteps wander from the road.”
Paradiso: Canto IX
Beautiful Clemence, after that thy Charles Had me enlightened, he narrated to me
The treacheries his seed should undergo;
But said: “Be still and let the years roll round;” So I can only say, that lamentation
Legitimate shall follow on your wrongs.
And of that holy light the life already Had to the Sun which fills it turned again, As to that good which for each thing sufficeth.
Ah, souls deceived, and creatures impious, Who from such good do turn away your hearts, Directing upon vanity your foreheads!
And now, behold, another of those splendours Approached me, and its will to pleasure me It signified by brightening outwardly.
The eyes of Beatrice, that fastened were Upon me, as before, of dear assent
To my desire assurance gave to me.
“Ah, bring swift compensation to my wish, Thou blessed spirit,” I said, “and give me proof That what I think in thee I can reflect!”
Whereat the light, that still was new to me, Out of its depths, whence it before was singing, As one delighted to do good, continued:
“Within that region of the land depraved Of Italy, that lies between Rialto
And fountain-heads of Brenta and of Piava,
Rises a hill, and mounts not very high, Wherefrom descended formerly a torch
That made upon that region great assault.
Out of one root were born both I and it; Cunizza was I called, and here I shine
Because the splendour of this star o’ercame me.
But gladly to myself the cause I pardon Of my allotment, and it does not grieve me; Which would perhaps seem strong unto your vulgar.
Of this so luculent and precious jewel, Which of our heaven is nearest unto me, Great fame remained; and ere it die away
This hundredth year shall yet quintupled be. See if man ought to make him excellent, So that another life the first may leave!
And thus thinks not the present multitude Shut in by Adige and Tagliamento,
Nor yet for being scourged is penitent.
But soon ’twill be that Padua in the marsh Will change the water that Vicenza bathes, Because the folk are stubborn against duty;
And where the Sile and Cagnano join
One lordeth it, and goes with lofty head, For catching whom e’en now the net is making.
Feltro moreover of her impious pastor Shall weep the crime, which shall so monstrous be That for the like none ever entered Malta.
Ample exceedingly would be the vat
That of the Ferrarese could hold the blood, And weary who should weigh it ounce by ounce,
Of which this courteous priest shall make a gift To show himself a partisan; and such gifts Will to the living of the land conform.
Above us there are mirrors, Thrones you call them, From which shines out on us God Judicant, So that this utterance seems good to us.”
Here it was silent, and it had the semblance Of being turned elsewhither, by the wheel On which it entered as it was before.
The other joy, already known to me,
Became a thing transplendent in my sight, As a fine ruby smitten by the sun.
Through joy effulgence is acquired above, As here a smile; but down below, the shade Outwardly darkens, as the mind is sad.
“God seeth all things, and in Him, blest spirit, Thy sight is,” said I, “so that never will Of his can possibly from thee be hidden;
Thy voice, then, that for ever makes the heavens Glad, with the singing of those holy fires Which of their six wings make themselves a cowl,
Wherefore does it not satisfy my longings? Indeed, I would not wait thy questioning If I in thee were as thou art in me.”
“The greatest of the valleys where the water Expands itself,” forthwith its words began, “That sea excepted which the earth engarlands,
Between discordant shores against the sun Extends so far, that it meridian makes
Where it was wont before to make the horizon.
I was a dweller on that valley’s shore ‘Twixt Ebro and Magra that with journey short Doth from the Tuscan part the Genoese.
With the same sunset and same sunrise nearly Sit Buggia and the city whence I was,
That with its blood once made the harbour hot.
Folco that people called me unto whom My name was known; and now with me this heaven Imprints itself, as I did once with it;
For more the daughter of Belus never burned, Offending both Sichaeus and Creusa,
Than I, so long as it became my locks,
Nor yet that Rodophean, who deluded
was by Demophoon, nor yet Alcides, When Iole he in his heart had locked.
Yet here is no repenting, but we smile, Not at the fault, which comes not back to mind, But at the power which ordered and foresaw.
Here we behold the art that doth adorn With such affection, and the good discover Whereby the world above turns that below.
But that thou wholly satisfied mayst bear Thy wishes hence which in this sphere are born, Still farther to proceed behoveth me.
Thou fain wouldst know who is within this light That here beside me thus is scintillating, Even as a sunbeam in the limpid water.
Then know thou, that within there is at rest Rahab, and being to our order joined,
With her in its supremest grade ’tis sealed.
Into this heaven, where ends the shadowy cone Cast by your world, before all other souls First of Christ’s triumph was she taken up.
Full meet it was to leave her in some heaven, Even as a palm of the high victory
Which he acquired with one palm and the other,
Because she favoured the first glorious deed Of Joshua upon the Holy Land,
That little stirs the memory of the Pope.
Thy city, which an offshoot is of him Who first upon his Maker turned his back, And whose ambition is so sorely wept,
Brings forth and scatters the accursed flower Which both the sheep and lambs hath led astray Since it has turned the shepherd to a wolf.
For this the Evangel and the mighty Doctors Are derelict, and only the Decretals
So studied that it shows upon their margins.
On this are Pope and Cardinals intent; Their meditations reach not Nazareth,
There where his pinions Gabriel unfolded;
But Vatican and the other parts elect Of Rome, which have a cemetery been
Unto the soldiery that followed Peter
Shall soon be free from this adultery.”
Paradiso: Canto X
Looking into his Son with all the Love Which each of them eternally breathes forth, The Primal and unutterable Power
Whate’er before the mind or eye revolves With so much order made, there can be none Who this beholds without enjoying Him.
Lift up then, Reader, to the lofty wheels With me thy vision straight unto that part Where the one motion on the other strikes,
And there begin to contemplate with joy That Master’s art, who in himself so loves it That never doth his eye depart therefrom.
Behold how from that point goes branching off The oblique circle, which conveys the planets, To satisfy the world that calls upon them;
And if their pathway were not thus inflected, Much virtue in the heavens would be in vain, And almost every power below here dead.
If from the straight line distant more or less Were the departure, much would wanting be Above and underneath of mundane order.
Remain now, Reader, still upon thy bench, In thought pursuing that which is foretasted, If thou wouldst jocund be instead of weary.
I’ve set before thee; henceforth feed thyself, For to itself diverteth all my care
That theme whereof I have been made the scribe.
The greatest of the ministers of nature, Who with the power of heaven the world imprints And measures with his light the time for us,
With that part which above is called to mind Conjoined, along the spirals was revolving, Where each time earlier he presents himself;
And I was with him; but of the ascending I was not conscious, saving as a man
Of a first thought is conscious ere it come;
And Beatrice, she who is seen to pass From good to better, and so suddenly
That not by time her action is expressed,
How lucent in herself must she have been! And what was in the sun, wherein I entered, Apparent not by colour but by light,
I, though I call on genius, art, and practice, Cannot so tell that it could be imagined; Believe one can, and let him long to see it.
And if our fantasies too lowly are
For altitude so great, it is no marvel, Since o’er the sun was never eye could go.
Such in this place was the fourth family Of the high Father, who forever sates it, Showing how he breathes forth and how begets.
And Beatrice began: “Give thanks, give thanks Unto the Sun of Angels, who to this
Sensible one has raised thee by his grace!”
Never was heart of mortal so disposed To worship, nor to give itself to God
With all its gratitude was it so ready,
As at those words did I myself become; And all my love was so absorbed in Him, That in oblivion Beatrice was eclipsed.
Nor this displeased her; but she smiled at it So that the splendour of her laughing eyes My single mind on many things divided.
Lights many saw I, vivid and triumphant, Make us a centre and themselves a circle, More sweet in voice than luminous in aspect.
Thus girt about the daughter of Latona We sometimes see, when pregnant is the air, So that it holds the thread which makes her zone.
Within the court of Heaven, whence I return, Are many jewels found, so fair and precious They cannot be transported from the realm;
And of them was the singing of those lights. Who takes not wings that he may fly up thither, The tidings thence may from the dumb await!
As soon as singing thus those burning suns Had round about us whirled themselves three times, Like unto stars neighbouring the steadfast poles,
Ladies they seemed, not from the dance released, But who stop short, in silence listening Till they have gathered the new melody.
And within one I heard beginning: “When The radiance of grace, by which is kindled True love, and which thereafter grows by loving,
Within thee multiplied is so resplendent That it conducts thee upward by that stair, Where without reascending none descends,
Who should deny the wine out of his vial Unto thy thirst, in liberty were not
Except as water which descends not seaward.
Fain wouldst thou know with what plants is enflowered This garland that encircles with delight The Lady fair who makes thee strong for heaven.
Of the lambs was I of the holy flock
Which Dominic conducteth by a road Where well one fattens if he strayeth not.
He who is nearest to me on the right
My brother and master was; and he Albertus Is of Cologne, I Thomas of Aquinum.
If thou of all the others wouldst be certain, Follow behind my speaking with thy sight Upward along the blessed garland turning.
That next effulgence issues from the smile Of Gratian, who assisted both the courts In such wise that it pleased in Paradise.
The other which near by adorns our choir That Peter was who, e’en as the poor widow, Offered his treasure unto Holy Church.
The fifth light, that among us is the fairest, Breathes forth from such a love, that all the world Below is greedy to learn tidings of it.
Within it is the lofty mind, where knowledge So deep was put, that, if the true be true, To see so much there never rose a second.