CANTO XXVIWith dazzled eyes, whilst wond’ring I remain’d,Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me,Issued a breath, that in attention muteDetain’d me; and these words it spake: “’Twere well,That, long as till thy vision, on my formO’erspent, regain its virtue, with discourseThou compensate the brief delay. Say then,Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:And meanwhile rest assur’d, that sight in theeIs but o’erpowered a space, not wholly quench’d:Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her lookHath potency, the like to that which dweltIn Ananias’ hand.” I answering thus:“Be to mine eyes the remedy or lateOr early, at her pleasure; for they wereThe gates, at which she enter’d, and did lightHer never dying fire. My wishes hereAre centered; in this palace is the weal,That Alpha and Omega, is to allThe lessons love can read me.” Yet againThe voice which had dispers’d my fear, when daz’dWith 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 elseBut of his light the beam, must needs attractThe soul of each one, loving, who the truthDiscerns, on which this proof is built. Such truthLearn I from him, who shows me the first loveOf all intelligential substancesEternal: from his voice I learn, whose wordIs truth, that of himself to Moses saith,‘I will make all my good before thee pass.’Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim’st,E’en at the outset of thy heralding,In mortal ears the mystery of heav’n.”“Through human wisdom, and th’ authorityTherewith agreeing,” heard I answer’d, “keepThe choicest of thy love for God. But say,If thou yet other cords within thee feel’stThat draw thee towards him; so that thou reportHow many are the fangs, with which this loveIs grappled to thy soul.” I did not miss,To what intent the eagle of our LordHad pointed his demand; yea noted wellTh’ avowal, which he led to; and resum’d:“All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God,Confederate to make fast our clarity.The being of the world, and mine own being,The death which he endur’d that I should live,And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do,To the foremention’d lively knowledge join’d,Have from the sea of ill love sav’d my bark,And on the coast secur’d it of the right.As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom,My love for them is great, as is the goodDealt by th’ eternal hand, that tends them all.”I ended, and therewith a song most sweetRang through the spheres; and “Holy, holy, holy,”Accordant with the rest my lady sang.And as a sleep is broken and dispers’dThrough sharp encounter of the nimble light,With the eye’s spirit running forth to meetThe ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg’d;And the upstartled wight loathes that be sees;So, at his sudden waking, he misdeemsOf all around him, till assurance waitsOn better judgment: thus the saintly cameDrove from before mine eyes the motes away,With the resplendence of her own, that castTheir brightness downward, thousand miles below.Whence I my vision, clearer shall before,Recover’d; and, well nigh astounded, ask’dOf a fourth light, that now with us I saw.And Beatrice: “The first diving soul,That ever the first virtue fram’d, admiresWithin 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 aloneMature, when first engender’d! Ancient father!That doubly seest in every wedded brideThy daughter by affinity and blood!Devoutly as I may, I pray thee holdConverse 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 conformsHis outside seeming to the cheer within:And in like guise was Adam’s spirit mov’dTo joyous mood, that through the covering shone,Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake:“No need thy will be told, which I untoldBetter discern, than thou whatever thingThou holdst most certain: for that will I seeIn Him, who is truth’s mirror, and HimselfParhelion unto all things, and naught elseTo him. This wouldst thou hear; how long since GodPlac’d me high garden, from whose houndsShe led me up in this ladder, steep and long;What space endur’d my season of delight;Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish’d me;And what the language, which I spake and fram’dNot that I tasted of the tree, my son,Was in itself the cause of that exile,But only my transgressing of the markAssign’d me. There, whence at thy lady’s hestThe Mantuan mov’d him, still was I debarr’dThis council, till the sun had made complete,Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice,His annual journey; and, through every lightIn his broad pathway, saw I him return,Thousand save sev’nty times, the whilst I dweltUpon the earth. The language I did useWas worn away, or ever Nimrod’s raceTheir unaccomplishable work began.For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting,Left by his reason free, and variable,As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks,Is nature’s prompting: whether thus or thus,She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.Ere I descended into hell’s abyss,El was the name on earth of the Chief Good,Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then ’twas call’dAnd so beseemeth: for, in mortals, useIs as the leaf upon the bough; that goes,And other comes instead. Upon the mountMost high above the waters, all my life,Both innocent and guilty, did but reachFrom the first hour, to that which cometh next(As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth.
With dazzled eyes, whilst wond’ring I remain’d,Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me,Issued a breath, that in attention muteDetain’d me; and these words it spake: “’Twere well,That, long as till thy vision, on my formO’erspent, regain its virtue, with discourseThou compensate the brief delay. Say then,Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:And meanwhile rest assur’d, that sight in theeIs but o’erpowered a space, not wholly quench’d:Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her lookHath potency, the like to that which dweltIn Ananias’ hand.” I answering thus:“Be to mine eyes the remedy or lateOr early, at her pleasure; for they wereThe gates, at which she enter’d, and did lightHer never dying fire. My wishes hereAre centered; in this palace is the weal,That Alpha and Omega, is to allThe lessons love can read me.” Yet againThe voice which had dispers’d my fear, when daz’dWith 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 elseBut of his light the beam, must needs attractThe soul of each one, loving, who the truthDiscerns, on which this proof is built. Such truthLearn I from him, who shows me the first loveOf all intelligential substancesEternal: from his voice I learn, whose wordIs truth, that of himself to Moses saith,‘I will make all my good before thee pass.’Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim’st,E’en at the outset of thy heralding,In mortal ears the mystery of heav’n.”
“Through human wisdom, and th’ authorityTherewith agreeing,” heard I answer’d, “keepThe choicest of thy love for God. But say,If thou yet other cords within thee feel’stThat draw thee towards him; so that thou reportHow many are the fangs, with which this loveIs grappled to thy soul.” I did not miss,To what intent the eagle of our LordHad pointed his demand; yea noted wellTh’ avowal, which he led to; and resum’d:“All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God,Confederate to make fast our clarity.The being of the world, and mine own being,The death which he endur’d that I should live,And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do,To the foremention’d lively knowledge join’d,Have from the sea of ill love sav’d my bark,And on the coast secur’d it of the right.As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom,My love for them is great, as is the goodDealt by th’ eternal hand, that tends them all.”
I ended, and therewith a song most sweetRang through the spheres; and “Holy, holy, holy,”Accordant with the rest my lady sang.And as a sleep is broken and dispers’dThrough sharp encounter of the nimble light,With the eye’s spirit running forth to meetThe ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg’d;And the upstartled wight loathes that be sees;So, at his sudden waking, he misdeemsOf all around him, till assurance waitsOn better judgment: thus the saintly cameDrove from before mine eyes the motes away,With the resplendence of her own, that castTheir brightness downward, thousand miles below.Whence I my vision, clearer shall before,Recover’d; and, well nigh astounded, ask’dOf a fourth light, that now with us I saw.
And Beatrice: “The first diving soul,That ever the first virtue fram’d, admiresWithin 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 aloneMature, when first engender’d! Ancient father!That doubly seest in every wedded brideThy daughter by affinity and blood!Devoutly as I may, I pray thee holdConverse 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 conformsHis outside seeming to the cheer within:And in like guise was Adam’s spirit mov’dTo joyous mood, that through the covering shone,Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake:“No need thy will be told, which I untoldBetter discern, than thou whatever thingThou holdst most certain: for that will I seeIn Him, who is truth’s mirror, and HimselfParhelion unto all things, and naught elseTo him. This wouldst thou hear; how long since GodPlac’d me high garden, from whose houndsShe led me up in this ladder, steep and long;What space endur’d my season of delight;Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish’d me;And what the language, which I spake and fram’dNot that I tasted of the tree, my son,Was in itself the cause of that exile,But only my transgressing of the markAssign’d me. There, whence at thy lady’s hestThe Mantuan mov’d him, still was I debarr’dThis council, till the sun had made complete,Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice,His annual journey; and, through every lightIn his broad pathway, saw I him return,Thousand save sev’nty times, the whilst I dweltUpon the earth. The language I did useWas worn away, or ever Nimrod’s raceTheir unaccomplishable work began.For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting,Left by his reason free, and variable,As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks,Is nature’s prompting: whether thus or thus,She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.Ere I descended into hell’s abyss,El was the name on earth of the Chief Good,Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then ’twas call’dAnd so beseemeth: for, in mortals, useIs as the leaf upon the bough; that goes,And other comes instead. Upon the mountMost high above the waters, all my life,Both innocent and guilty, did but reachFrom the first hour, to that which cometh next(As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth.