The Divine Comedy by Dante Part 6

Breathe now; and let the hunger be appeas'd, That with great craving long hath held my soul, Finding no food on earth. This well I know, That if there be in heav'n a realm, that shows In faithful mirror the celestial Justice, Yours without veil reflects it. Ye discern The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself To hearken; ye the doubt that urges me With such inveterate craving." Straight I saw, Like to a falcon issuing from the hood, That rears his head, and claps him with his wings, His beauty and his eagerness bewraying.

So saw I move that stately sign, with praise Of grace divine inwoven and high song Of inexpressive joy. "He," it began, "Who turn'd his compa.s.s on the world's extreme, And in that s.p.a.ce so variously hath wrought, Both openly, and in secret, in such wise Could not through all the universe display Impression of his glory, that the Word Of his omniscience should not still remain In infinite excess. In proof whereof, He first through pride supplanted, who was sum Of each created being, waited not For light celestial, and abortive fell.

Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant Receptacle unto that Good, which knows No limit, measur'd by itself alone.

Therefore your sight, of th' omnipresent Mind A single beam, its origin must own Surpa.s.sing far its utmost potency.

The ken, your world is gifted with, descends In th' everlasting Justice as low down, As eye doth in the sea; which though it mark The bottom from the sh.o.r.e, in the wide main Discerns it not; and ne'ertheless it is, But hidden through its deepness. Light is none, Save that which cometh from the pure serene Of ne'er disturbed ether: for the rest, 'Tis darkness all, or shadow of the flesh, Or else its poison. Here confess reveal'd That covert, which hath hidden from thy search The living justice, of the which thou mad'st Such frequent question; for thou saidst--'A man Is born on Indus' banks, and none is there Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write, And all his inclinations and his acts, As far as human reason sees, are good, And he offendeth not in word or deed.

But unbaptiz'd he dies, and void of faith.

Where is the justice that condemns him? where His blame, if he believeth not?'--What then, And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit To judge at distance of a thousand miles With the short-sighted vision of a span?

To him, who subtilizes thus with me, There would a.s.suredly be room for doubt Even to wonder, did not the safe word Of scripture hold supreme authority.

"O animals of clay! O spirits gross I The primal will, that in itself is good, Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne'er been mov'd.

Justice consists in consonance with it, Derivable by no created good, Whose very cause depends upon its beam."

As on her nest the stork, that turns about Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed, While they with upward eyes do look on her; So lifted I my gaze; and bending so The ever-blessed image wav'd its wings, Lab'ring with such deep counsel. Wheeling round It warbled, and did say: "As are my notes To thee, who understand'st them not, such is Th' eternal judgment unto mortal ken."

Then still abiding in that ensign rang'd, Wherewith the Romans over-awed the world, Those burning splendours of the Holy Spirit Took up the strain; and thus it spake again: "None ever hath ascended to this realm, Who hath not a believer been in Christ, Either before or after the blest limbs Were nail'd upon the wood. But lo! of those Who call 'Christ, Christ,' there shall be many found, In judgment, further off from him by far, Than such, to whom his name was never known.

Christians like these the Ethiop shall condemn: When that the two a.s.semblages shall part; One rich eternally, the other poor.

"What may the Persians say unto your kings, When they shall see that volume, in the which All their dispraise is written, spread to view?

There amidst Albert's works shall that be read, Which will give speedy motion to the pen, When Prague shall mourn her desolated realm.

There shall be read the woe, that he doth work With his adulterate money on the Seine, Who by the tusk will perish: there be read The thirsting pride, that maketh fool alike The English and Scot, impatient of their bound.

There shall be seen the Spaniard's luxury, The delicate living there of the Bohemian, Who still to worth has been a willing stranger.

The halter of Jerusalem shall see A unit for his virtue, for his vices No less a mark than million. He, who guards The isle of fire by old Anchises honour'd Shall find his avarice there and cowardice; And better to denote his littleness, The writing must be letters maim'd, that speak Much in a narrow s.p.a.ce. All there shall know His uncle and his brother's filthy doings, Who so renown'd a nation and two crowns Have b.a.s.t.a.r.dized. And they, of Portugal And Norway, there shall be expos'd with him Of Ratza, who hath counterfeited ill The coin of Venice. O blest Hungary!

If thou no longer patiently abid'st Thy ill-entreating! and, O blest Navarre!

If with thy mountainous girdle thou wouldst arm thee In earnest of that day, e'en now are heard Wailings and groans in Famagosta's streets And Nicosia's, grudging at their beast, Who keepeth even footing with the rest."

CANTO XX

When, disappearing, from our hemisphere, The world's enlightener vanishes, and day On all sides wasteth, suddenly the sky, Erewhile irradiate only with his beam, Is yet again unfolded, putting forth Innumerable lights wherein one s.h.i.+nes.

Of such vicissitude in heaven I thought, As the great sign, that marshaleth the world And the world's leaders, in the blessed beak Was silent; for that all those living lights, Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs, Such as from memory glide and fall away.

Sweet love! that dost apparel thee in smiles, How l.u.s.trous was thy semblance in those sparkles, Which merely are from holy thoughts inspir'd!

After the precious and bright beaming stones, That did ingem the sixth light, ceas'd the chiming Of their angelic bells; methought I heard The murmuring of a river, that doth fall From rock to rock transpicuous, making known The richness of his spring-head: and as sound Of cistern, at the fret-board, or of pipe, Is, at the wind-hole, modulate and tun'd; Thus up the neck, as it were hollow, rose That murmuring of the eagle, and forthwith Voice there a.s.sum'd, and thence along the beak Issued in form of words, such as my heart Did look for, on whose tables I inscrib'd them.

"The part in me, that sees, and bears the sun,, In mortal eagles," it began, "must now Be noted steadfastly: for of the fires, That figure me, those, glittering in mine eye, Are chief of all the greatest. This, that s.h.i.+nes Midmost for pupil, was the same, who sang The Holy Spirit's song, and bare about The ark from town to town; now doth he know The merit of his soul-impa.s.sion'd strains By their well-fitted guerdon. Of the five, That make the circle of the vision, he Who to the beak is nearest, comforted The widow for her son: now doth he know How dear he costeth not to follow Christ, Both from experience of this pleasant life, And of its opposite. He next, who follows In the circ.u.mference, for the over arch, By true repenting slack'd the pace of death: Now knoweth he, that the degrees of heav'n Alter not, when through pious prayer below Today's is made tomorrow's destiny.

The other following, with the laws and me, To yield the shepherd room, pa.s.s'd o'er to Greece, From good intent producing evil fruit: Now knoweth he, how all the ill, deriv'd From his well doing, doth not helm him aught, Though it have brought destruction on the world.

That, which thou seest in the under bow, Was William, whom that land bewails, which weeps For Charles and Frederick living: now he knows How well is lov'd in heav'n the righteous king, Which he betokens by his radiant seeming.

Who in the erring world beneath would deem, That Trojan Ripheus in this round was set Fifth of the saintly splendours? now he knows Enough of that, which the world cannot see, The grace divine, albeit e'en his sight Reach not its utmost depth." Like to the lark, That warbling in the air expatiates long, Then, trilling out his last sweet melody, Drops satiate with the sweetness; such appear'd That image stampt by the' everlasting pleasure, Which fas.h.i.+ons like itself all lovely things.

I, though my doubting were as manifest, As is through gla.s.s the hue that mantles it, In silence waited not: for to my lips "What things are these?" involuntary rush'd, And forc'd a pa.s.sage out: whereat I mark'd A sudden lightening and new revelry.

The eye was kindled: and the blessed sign No more to keep me wond'ring and suspense, Replied: "I see that thou believ'st these things, Because I tell them, but discern'st not how; So that thy knowledge waits not on thy faith: As one who knows the name of thing by rote, But is a stranger to its properties, Till other's tongue reveal them. Fervent love And lively hope with violence a.s.sail The kingdom of the heavens, and overcome The will of the Most high; not in such sort As man prevails o'er man; but conquers it, Because 't is willing to be conquer'd, still, Though conquer'd, by its mercy conquering.

"Those, in the eye who live the first and fifth, Cause thee to marvel, in that thou behold'st The region of the angels deck'd with them.

They quitted not their bodies, as thou deem'st, Gentiles but Christians, in firm rooted faith, This of the feet in future to be pierc'd, That of feet nail'd already to the cross.

One from the barrier of the dark abyss, Where never any with good will returns, Came back unto his bones. Of lively hope Such was the meed; of lively hope, that wing'd The prayers sent up to G.o.d for his release, And put power into them to bend his will.

The glorious Spirit, of whom I speak to thee, A little while returning to the flesh, Believ'd in him, who had the means to help, And, in believing, nourish'd such a flame Of holy love, that at the second death He was made sharer in our gamesome mirth.

The other, through the riches of that grace, Which from so deep a fountain doth distil, As never eye created saw its rising, Plac'd all his love below on just and right: Wherefore of grace G.o.d op'd in him the eye To the redemption of mankind to come; Wherein believing, he endur'd no more The filth of paganism, and for their ways Rebuk'd the stubborn nations. The three nymphs, Whom at the right wheel thou beheldst advancing, Were sponsors for him more than thousand years Before baptizing. O how far remov'd, Predestination! is thy root from such As see not the First cause entire: and ye, O mortal men! be wary how ye judge: For we, who see our Maker, know not yet The number of the chosen: and esteem Such scantiness of knowledge our delight: For all our good is in that primal good Concentrate, and G.o.d's will and ours are one."

So, by that form divine, was giv'n to me Sweet medicine to clear and strengthen sight, And, as one handling skillfully the harp, Attendant on some skilful songster's voice Bids the chords vibrate, and therein the song Acquires more pleasure; so, the whilst it spake, It doth remember me, that I beheld The pair of blessed luminaries move.

Like the accordant twinkling of two eyes, Their beamy circlets, dancing to the sounds.

CANTO XXI

Again mine eyes were fix'd on Beatrice, And with mine eyes my soul, that in her looks Found all contentment. Yet no smile she wore And, "Did I smile," quoth she, "thou wouldst be straight Like Semele when into ashes turn'd: For, mounting these eternal palace-stairs, My beauty, which the loftier it climbs, As thou hast noted, still doth kindle more, So s.h.i.+nes, that, were no temp'ring interpos'd, Thy mortal puissance would from its rays Shrink, as the leaf doth from the thunderbolt.

Into the seventh splendour are we wafted, That underneath the burning lion's breast Beams, in this hour, commingled with his might, Thy mind be with thine eyes: and in them mirror'd The shape, which in this mirror shall be shown."

Whoso can deem, how fondly I had fed My sight upon her blissful countenance, May know, when to new thoughts I chang'd, what joy To do the bidding of my heav'nly guide: In equal balance poising either weight.

Within the crystal, which records the name, (As its remoter circle girds the world) Of that lov'd monarch, in whose happy reign No ill had power to harm, I saw rear'd up, In colour like to sun-illumin'd gold.

A ladder, which my ken pursued in vain, So lofty was the summit; down whose steps I saw the splendours in such mult.i.tude Descending, ev'ry light in heav'n, methought, Was shed thence. As the rooks, at dawn of day Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill, Some speed their way a-field, and homeward some, Returning, cross their flight, while some abide And wheel around their airy lodge; so seem'd That glitterance, wafted on alternate wing, As upon certain stair it met, and clash'd Its s.h.i.+ning. And one ling'ring near us, wax'd So bright, that in my thought: said: "The love, Which this betokens me, admits no doubt."

Unwillingly from question I refrain, To her, by whom my silence and my speech Are order'd, looking for a sign: whence she, Who in the sight of Him, that seeth all, Saw wherefore I was silent, prompted me T' indulge the fervent wish; and I began: "I am not worthy, of my own desert, That thou shouldst answer me; but for her sake, Who hath vouchsaf'd my asking, spirit blest!

That in thy joy art shrouded! say the cause, Which bringeth thee so near: and wherefore, say, Doth the sweet symphony of Paradise Keep silence here, pervading with such sounds Of rapt devotion ev'ry lower sphere?"

"Mortal art thou in hearing as in sight;"

Was the reply: "and what forbade the smile Of Beatrice interrupts our song.

Only to yield thee gladness of my voice, And of the light that vests me, I thus far Descend these hallow'd steps: not that more love Invites me; for lo! there aloft, as much Or more of love is witness'd in those flames: But such my lot by charity a.s.sign'd, That makes us ready servants, as thou seest, To execute the counsel of the Highest."

"That in this court," said I, "O sacred lamp!

Love no compulsion needs, but follows free Th' eternal Providence, I well discern: This harder find to deem, why of thy peers Thou only to this office wert foredoom'd."

I had not ended, when, like rapid mill, Upon its centre whirl'd the light; and then The love, that did inhabit there, replied: "Splendour eternal, piercing through these folds, Its virtue to my vision knits, and thus Supported, lifts me so above myself, That on the sov'ran essence, which it wells from, I have the power to gaze: and hence the joy, Wherewith I sparkle, equaling with my blaze The keenness of my sight. But not the soul, That is in heav'n most l.u.s.trous, nor the seraph That hath his eyes most fix'd on G.o.d, shall solve What thou hast ask'd: for in th' abyss it lies Of th' everlasting statute sunk so low, That no created ken may fathom it.

And, to the mortal world when thou return'st, Be this reported; that none henceforth dare Direct his footsteps to so dread a bourn.

The mind, that here is radiant, on the earth Is wrapt in mist. Look then if she may do, Below, what pa.s.seth her ability, When she is ta'en to heav'n." By words like these Admonish'd, I the question urg'd no more; And of the spirit humbly sued alone T' instruct me of its state. "'Twixt either sh.o.r.e Of Italy, nor distant from thy land, A stony ridge ariseth, in such sort, The thunder doth not lift his voice so high, They call it Catria: at whose foot a cell Is sacred to the lonely Eremite, For wors.h.i.+p set apart and holy rites."

A third time thus it spake; then added: "There So firmly to G.o.d's service I adher'd, That with no costlier viands than the juice Of olives, easily I pa.s.s'd the heats Of summer and the winter frosts, content In heav'n-ward musings. Rich were the returns And fertile, which that cloister once was us'd To render to these heavens: now 't is fall'n Into a waste so empty, that ere long Detection must lay bare its vanity Pietro Damiano there was I yclept: Pietro the sinner, when before I dwelt Beside the Adriatic, in the house Of our blest Lady. Near upon my close Of mortal life, through much importuning I was constrain'd to wear the hat that still From bad to worse it s.h.i.+fted.--Cephas came; He came, who was the Holy Spirit's vessel, Barefoot and lean, eating their bread, as chanc'd, At the first table. Modern Shepherd's need Those who on either hand may prop and lead them, So burly are they grown: and from behind Others to hoist them. Down the palfrey's sides Spread their broad mantles, so as both the beasts Are cover'd with one skin. O patience! thou That lookst on this and doth endure so long."

I at those accents saw the splendours down From step to step alight, and wheel, and wax, Each circuiting, more beautiful. Round this They came, and stay'd them; uttered them a shout So loud, it hath no likeness here: nor I Wist what it spake, so deaf'ning was the thunder.

CANTO XXII

Astounded, to the guardian of my steps I turn'd me, like the chill, who always runs Thither for succour, where he trusteth most, And she was like the mother, who her son Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice Soothes him, and he is cheer'd; for thus she spake, Soothing me: "Know'st not thou, thou art in heav'n?

And know'st not thou, whatever is in heav'n, Is holy, and that nothing there is done But is done zealously and well? Deem now, What change in thee the song, and what my smile had wrought, since thus the shout had pow'r to move thee.

In which couldst thou have understood their prayers, The vengeance were already known to thee, Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour, The sword of heav'n is not in haste to smite, Nor yet doth linger, save unto his seeming, Who in desire or fear doth look for it.

But elsewhere now l bid thee turn thy view; So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold."

Mine eyes directing, as she will'd, I saw A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew By interchange of splendour. I remain'd, As one, who fearful of o'er-much presuming, Abates in him the keenness of desire, Nor dares to question, when amid those pearls, One largest and most l.u.s.trous onward drew, That it might yield contentment to my wish; And from within it these the sounds I heard.

"If thou, like me, beheldst the charity That burns amongst us, what thy mind conceives, Were utter'd. But that, ere the lofty bound Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee, I will make answer even to the thought, Which thou hast such respect of. In old days, That mountain, at whose side Ca.s.sino rests, Was on its height frequented by a race Deceived and ill dispos'd: and I it was, Who thither carried first the name of Him, Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man.

And such a speeding grace shone over me, That from their impious wors.h.i.+p I reclaim'd The dwellers round about, who with the world Were in delusion lost. These other flames, The spirits of men contemplative, were all Enliven'd by that warmth, whose kindly force Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness.

Here is Macarius; Romoaldo here: And here my brethren, who their steps refrain'd Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart."

I answ'ring, thus; "Thy gentle words and kind, And this the cheerful semblance, I behold Not un.o.bservant, beaming in ye all, Have rais'd a.s.surance in me, wakening it Full-blossom'd in my bosom, as a rose Before the sun, when the consummate flower Has spread to utmost amplitude. Of thee Therefore entreat I, father! to declare If I may gain such favour, as to gaze Upon thine image, by no covering veil'd."

"Brother!" he thus rejoin'd, "in the last sphere Expect completion of thy lofty aim, For there on each desire completion waits, And there on mine: where every aim is found Perfect, entire, and for fulfillment ripe.

There all things are as they have ever been: For s.p.a.ce is none to bound, nor pole divides, Our ladder reaches even to that clime, And so at giddy distance mocks thy view.

Thither the Patriarch Jacob saw it stretch Its topmost round, when it appear'd to him With angels laden. But to mount it now None lifts his foot from earth: and hence my rule Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves; The walls, for abbey rear'd, turned into dens, The cowls to sacks choak'd up with musty meal.