The Divine Comedy by Dante Part 8

"O saintly sire and spirit!" I began, "Who seest that, which thou didst so believe, As to outstrip feet younger than thine own, Toward the sepulchre? thy will is here, That I the tenour of my creed unfold; And thou the cause of it hast likewise ask'd.

And I reply: I in one G.o.d believe, One sole eternal G.o.dhead, of whose love All heav'n is mov'd, himself unmov'd the while.

Nor demonstration physical alone, Or more intelligential and abstruse, Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth It cometh to me rather, which is shed Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms.

The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write, When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost.

In three eternal Persons I believe, Essence threefold and one, mysterious league Of union absolute, which, many a time, The word of gospel lore upon my mind Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark, The lively flame dilates, and like heav'n's star Doth glitter in me." As the master hears, Well pleas'd, and then enfoldeth in his arms The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought, And having told the errand keeps his peace; Thus benediction uttering with song Soon as my peace I held, compa.s.s'd me thrice The apostolic radiance, whose behest Had op'd lips; so well their answer pleas'd.

CANTO XXV

If e'er the sacred poem that hath made Both heav'n and earth copartners in its toil, And with lean abstinence, through many a year, Faded my brow, be destin'd to prevail Over the cruelty, which bars me forth Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb The wolves set on and fain had worried me, With other voice and fleece of other grain I shall forthwith return, and, standing up At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath Due to the poet's temples: for I there First enter'd on the faith which maketh souls Acceptable to G.o.d: and, for its sake, Peter had then circled my forehead thus.

Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth The first fruit of Christ's vicars on the earth, Toward us mov'd a light, at view whereof My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me: "Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might, That makes Falicia throng'd with visitants!"

As when the ring-dove by his mate alights, In circles each about the other wheels, And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I One, of the other great and glorious prince, With kindly greeting hail'd, extolling both Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end Was to their gratulation, silent, each, Before me sat they down, so burning bright, I could not look upon them. Smiling then, Beatrice spake: "O life in glory shrin'd!"

Who didst the largess of our kingly court Set down with faithful pen! let now thy voice Of hope the praises in this height resound.

For thou, who figur'st them in shapes, as clear, As Jesus stood before thee, well can'st speak them."

"Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust: For that, which hither from the mortal world Arriveth, must be ripen'd in our beam."

Such cheering accents from the second flame a.s.sur'd me; and mine eyes I lifted up Unto the mountains that had bow'd them late With over-heavy burden. "Sith our Liege Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death, In the most secret council, with his lords Shouldst be confronted, so that having view'd The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare, What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee, And whence thou hadst it?" Thus proceeding still, The second light: and she, whose gentle love My soaring pennons in that lofty flight Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin'd: Among her sons, not one more full of hope, Hath the church militant: so 't is of him Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term Of warfare, hence permitted he is come, From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see.

The other points, both which thou hast inquir'd, Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease, And without boasting, so G.o.d give him grace."

Like to the scholar, practis'd in his task, Who, willing to give proof of diligence, Seconds his teacher gladly, "Hope," said I, "Is of the joy to come a sure expectance, Th' effect of grace divine and merit preceding.

This light from many a star visits my heart, But flow'd to me the first from him, who sang The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme Among his tuneful brethren. 'Let all hope In thee,' so speak his anthem, 'who have known Thy name;' and with my faith who know not that?

From thee, the next, distilling from his spring, In thine epistle, fell on me the drops So plenteously, that I on others shower The influence of their dew." Whileas I spake, A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning, Within the bosom of that mighty sheen, Play'd tremulous; then forth these accents breath'd: "Love for the virtue which attended me E'en to the palm, and issuing from the field, Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires To ask of thee, whom also it delights; What promise thou from hope in chief dost win."

"Both scriptures, new and ancient," I reply'd; "Propose the mark (which even now I view) For souls belov'd of G.o.d. Isaias saith, That, in their own land, each one must be clad In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life.

In terms more full, And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth This revelation to us, where he tells Of the white raiment destin'd to the saints."

And, as the words were ending, from above, "They hope in thee," first heard we cried: whereto Answer'd the carols all. Amidst them next, A light of so clear amplitude emerg'd, That winter's month were but a single day, Were such a crystal in the Cancer's sign.

Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes, And enters on the mazes of the dance, Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent, Than to do fitting honour to the bride; So I beheld the new effulgence come Unto the other two, who in a ring Wheel'd, as became their rapture. In the dance And in the song it mingled. And the dame Held on them fix'd her looks: e'en as the spouse Silent and moveless. "This is he, who lay Upon the bosom of our pelican: This he, into whose keeping from the cross The mighty charge was given." Thus she spake, Yet therefore naught the more remov'd her Sight From marking them, or ere her words began, Or when they clos'd. As he, who looks intent, And strives with searching ken, how he may see The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I Peer'd on that last resplendence, while I heard: "Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that, Which here abides not? Earth my body is, In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long, As till our number equal the decree Of the Most High. The two that have ascended, In this our blessed cloister, shine alone With the two garments. So report below."

As when, for ease of labour, or to shun Suspected peril at a whistle's breath, The oars, erewhile dash'd frequent in the wave, All rest; the flamy circle at that voice So rested, and the mingling sound was still, Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose.

I turn'd, but ah! how trembled in my thought, When, looking at my side again to see Beatrice, I descried her not, although Not distant, on the happy coast she stood.

CANTO XXVI

With dazzled eyes, whilst wond'ring I remain'd, Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me, Issued a breath, that in attention mute Detain'd me; and these words it spake: "'T were well, That, long as till thy vision, on my form O'erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse Thou compensate the brief delay. Say then, Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:

"And meanwhile rest a.s.sur'd, that sight in thee Is but o'erpowered a s.p.a.ce, not wholly quench'd: Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt In Ananias' hand." I answering thus: "Be to mine eyes the remedy or late Or early, at her pleasure; for they were The gates, at which she enter'd, and did light Her never dying fire. My wishes here Are centered; in this palace is the weal, That Alpha and Omega, is to all The lessons love can read me." Yet again The voice which had dispers'd my fear, when daz'd With that excess, to converse urg'd, and spake: "Behooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms, And say, who level'd at this scope thy bow."

"Philosophy," said I, "hath arguments, And this place hath authority enough 'T' imprint in me such love: for, of constraint, Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good, Kindles our love, and in degree the more, As it comprises more of goodness in 't.

The essence then, where such advantage is, That each good, found without it, is naught else But of his light the beam, must needs attract The soul of each one, loving, who the truth Discerns, on which this proof is built. Such truth Learn I from him, who shows me the first love Of all intelligential substances Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith, 'I will make all my good before thee pa.s.s.'

Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim'st, E'en at the outset of thy heralding, In mortal ears the mystery of heav'n."

"Through human wisdom, and th' authority Therewith agreeing," heard I answer'd, "keep The choicest of thy love for G.o.d. But say, If thou yet other cords within thee feel'st That draw thee towards him; so that thou report How many are the fangs, with which this love Is grappled to thy soul." I did not miss, To what intent the eagle of our Lord Had pointed his demand; yea noted well Th' avowal, which he led to; and resum'd: "All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to G.o.d, Confederate to make fast our clarity.

The being of the world, and mine own being, The death which he endur'd that I should live, And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do, To the foremention'd lively knowledge join'd, Have from the sea of ill love sav'd my bark, And on the coast secur'd it of the right.

As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom, My love for them is great, as is the good Dealt by th' eternal hand, that tends them all."

I ended, and therewith a song most sweet Rang through the spheres; and "Holy, holy, holy,"

Accordant with the rest my lady sang.

And as a sleep is broken and dispers'd Through sharp encounter of the nimble light, With the eye's spirit running forth to meet The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg'd; And the upstartled wight loathes that he sees; So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems Of all around him, till a.s.surance waits On better judgment: thus the saintly came Drove from before mine eyes the motes away, With the resplendence of her own, that cast Their brightness downward, thousand miles below.

Whence I my vision, clearer shall before, Recover'd; and, well nigh astounded, ask'd Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw.

And Beatrice: "The first diving soul, That ever the first virtue fram'd, admires Within these rays his Maker." Like the leaf, That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown; By its own virtue rear'd then stands aloof; So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow'd.

Then eagerness to speak embolden'd me; And I began: "O fruit! that wast alone Mature, when first engender'd! Ancient father!

That doubly seest in every wedded bride Thy daughter by affinity and blood!

Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I, More speedily to hear thee, tell it not."

It chanceth oft some animal bewrays, Through the sleek cov'ring of his furry coat.

The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms His outside seeming to the cheer within: And in like guise was Adam's spirit mov'd To joyous mood, that through the covering shone, Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake: "No need thy will be told, which I untold Better discern, than thou whatever thing Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see In Him, who is truth's mirror, and Himself Parhelion unto all things, and naught else To him. This wouldst thou hear; how long since G.o.d Plac'd me high garden, from whose hounds She led me up in this ladder, steep and long; What s.p.a.ce 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 a.s.sign'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 h.e.l.l'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 pa.s.sing 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 G.o.d 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 s.e.xtus, 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 G.o.d!

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 s.p.a.ce 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 compa.s.s'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 pa.s.sage of Laertes' son, And hitherward the sh.o.r.e, 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 G.o.d'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...o...b.. 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 l.u.s.t!

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 p.o.o.p, 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