CANTO V“If beyond earthly wont, the flame of loveIllume me, so that I o’ercome thy powerOf vision, marvel not: but learn the causeIn that perfection of the sight, which soonAs apprehending, hasteneth on to reachThe good it apprehends. I well discern,How in thine intellect already shinesThe light eternal, which to view aloneNe’er fails to kindle love; and if aught elseYour love seduces, ’t is but that it showsSome ill-mark’d vestige of that primal beam.“This would’st thou know, if failure of the vowBy other service may be so supplied,As from self-question to assure the soul.”Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish,Began; and thus, as one who breaks not offDiscourse, continued in her saintly strain.“Supreme of gifts, which God creating gaveOf his free bounty, sign most evidentOf goodness, and in his account most priz’d,Was liberty of will, the boon wherewithAll intellectual creatures, and them soleHe hath endow’d. Hence now thou mayst inferOf what high worth the vow, which so is fram’dThat when man offers, God well-pleas’d accepts;For in the compact between God and him,This treasure, such as I describe it to thee,He makes the victim, and of his own act.What compensation therefore may he find?If that, whereof thou hast oblation made,By using well thou think’st to consecrate,Thou would’st of theft do charitable deed.Thus I resolve thee of the greater point.“But forasmuch as holy church, hereinDispensing, seems to contradict the truthI have discover’d to thee, yet behoovesThou rest a little longer at the board,Ere the crude aliment, which thou hast taken,Digested fitly to nutrition turn.Open thy mind to what I now unfold,And give it inward keeping. Knowledge comesOf learning well retain’d, unfruitful else.“This sacrifice in essence of two thingsConsisteth; one is that, whereof ’t is made,The covenant the other. For the last,It ne’er is cancell’d if not kept: and henceI spake erewhile so strictly of its force.For this it was enjoin’d the Israelites,Though leave were giv’n them, as thou know’st, to changeThe offering, still to offer. Th’ other part,The matter and the substance of the vow,May well be such, to that without offenceIt may for other substance be exchang’d.But at his own discretion none may shiftThe burden on his shoulders, unreleas’dBy either key, the yellow and the white.Nor deem of any change, as less than vain,If the last bond be not within the newIncluded, as the quatre in the six.No satisfaction therefore can be paidFor what so precious in the balance weighs,That all in counterpoise must kick the beam.Take then no vow at random: ta’en, with faithPreserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once,Blindly to execute a rash resolve,Whom better it had suited to exclaim,‘I have done ill,’ than to redeem his pledgeBy doing worse or, not unlike to himIn folly, that great leader of the Greeks:Whence, on the alter, Iphigenia mourn’dHer virgin beauty, and hath since made mournBoth wise and simple, even all, who hearOf so fell sacrifice. Be ye more staid,O Christians, not, like feather, by each windRemovable: nor think to cleanse ourselvesIn every water. Either testament,The old and new, is yours: and for your guideThe shepherd of the church let this sufficeTo save you. When by evil lust entic’d,Remember ye be men, not senseless beasts;Nor let the Jew, who dwelleth in your streets,Hold you in mock’ry. Be not, as the lamb,That, fickle wanton, leaves its mother’s milk,To dally with itself in idle play.”Such were the words that Beatrice spake:These ended, to that region, where the worldIs liveliest, full of fond desire she turn’d.Though mainly prompt new question to propose,Her silence and chang’d look did keep me dumb.And as the arrow, ere the cord is still,Leapeth unto its mark; so on we spedInto the second realm. There I beheldThe dame, so joyous enter, that the orbGrew brighter at her smiles; and, if the starWere mov’d to gladness, what then was my cheer,Whom nature hath made apt for every change!As in a quiet and clear lake the fish,If aught approach them from without, do drawTowards it, deeming it their food; so drewFull more than thousand splendours towards us,And in each one was heard: “Lo! one arriv’dTo multiply our loves!” and as each cameThe shadow, streaming forth effulgence new,Witness’d augmented joy. Here, reader! think,If thou didst miss the sequel of my tale,To know the rest how sorely thou wouldst crave;And thou shalt see what vehement desirePossess’d me, as soon as these had met my view,To know their state. “O born in happy hour!Thou to whom grace vouchsafes, or ere thy closeOf fleshly warfare, to behold the thronesOf that eternal triumph, know to usThe light communicated, which through heavenExpatiates without bound. Therefore, if aughtThou of our beams wouldst borrow for thine aid,Spare not; and of our radiance take thy fill.”Thus of those piteous spirits one bespake me;And Beatrice next: “Say on; and trustAs unto gods!”—“How in the light supremeThou harbour’st, and from thence the virtue bring’st,That, sparkling in thine eyes, denotes thy joy,l mark; but, who thou art, am still to seek;Or wherefore, worthy spirit! for thy lotThis sphere assign’d, that oft from mortal kenIs veil’d by others’ beams.” I said, and turn’dToward the lustre, that with greeting, kindErewhile had hail’d me. Forthwith brighter farThan erst, it wax’d: and, as himself the sunHides through excess of light, when his warm gazeHath on the mantle of thick vapours prey’d;Within its proper ray the saintly shapeWas, through increase of gladness, thus conceal’d;And, shrouded so in splendour answer’d me,E’en as the tenour of my song declares.
“If beyond earthly wont, the flame of loveIllume me, so that I o’ercome thy powerOf vision, marvel not: but learn the causeIn that perfection of the sight, which soonAs apprehending, hasteneth on to reachThe good it apprehends. I well discern,How in thine intellect already shinesThe light eternal, which to view aloneNe’er fails to kindle love; and if aught elseYour love seduces, ’t is but that it showsSome ill-mark’d vestige of that primal beam.“This would’st thou know, if failure of the vowBy other service may be so supplied,As from self-question to assure the soul.”Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish,Began; and thus, as one who breaks not offDiscourse, continued in her saintly strain.“Supreme of gifts, which God creating gaveOf his free bounty, sign most evidentOf goodness, and in his account most priz’d,Was liberty of will, the boon wherewithAll intellectual creatures, and them soleHe hath endow’d. Hence now thou mayst inferOf what high worth the vow, which so is fram’dThat when man offers, God well-pleas’d accepts;For in the compact between God and him,This treasure, such as I describe it to thee,He makes the victim, and of his own act.What compensation therefore may he find?If that, whereof thou hast oblation made,By using well thou think’st to consecrate,Thou would’st of theft do charitable deed.Thus I resolve thee of the greater point.“But forasmuch as holy church, hereinDispensing, seems to contradict the truthI have discover’d to thee, yet behoovesThou rest a little longer at the board,Ere the crude aliment, which thou hast taken,Digested fitly to nutrition turn.Open thy mind to what I now unfold,And give it inward keeping. Knowledge comesOf learning well retain’d, unfruitful else.“This sacrifice in essence of two thingsConsisteth; one is that, whereof ’t is made,The covenant the other. For the last,It ne’er is cancell’d if not kept: and henceI spake erewhile so strictly of its force.For this it was enjoin’d the Israelites,Though leave were giv’n them, as thou know’st, to changeThe offering, still to offer. Th’ other part,The matter and the substance of the vow,May well be such, to that without offenceIt may for other substance be exchang’d.But at his own discretion none may shiftThe burden on his shoulders, unreleas’dBy either key, the yellow and the white.Nor deem of any change, as less than vain,If the last bond be not within the newIncluded, as the quatre in the six.No satisfaction therefore can be paidFor what so precious in the balance weighs,That all in counterpoise must kick the beam.Take then no vow at random: ta’en, with faithPreserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once,Blindly to execute a rash resolve,Whom better it had suited to exclaim,‘I have done ill,’ than to redeem his pledgeBy doing worse or, not unlike to himIn folly, that great leader of the Greeks:Whence, on the alter, Iphigenia mourn’dHer virgin beauty, and hath since made mournBoth wise and simple, even all, who hearOf so fell sacrifice. Be ye more staid,O Christians, not, like feather, by each windRemovable: nor think to cleanse ourselvesIn every water. Either testament,The old and new, is yours: and for your guideThe shepherd of the church let this sufficeTo save you. When by evil lust entic’d,Remember ye be men, not senseless beasts;Nor let the Jew, who dwelleth in your streets,Hold you in mock’ry. Be not, as the lamb,That, fickle wanton, leaves its mother’s milk,To dally with itself in idle play.”Such were the words that Beatrice spake:These ended, to that region, where the worldIs liveliest, full of fond desire she turn’d.Though mainly prompt new question to propose,Her silence and chang’d look did keep me dumb.And as the arrow, ere the cord is still,Leapeth unto its mark; so on we spedInto the second realm. There I beheldThe dame, so joyous enter, that the orbGrew brighter at her smiles; and, if the starWere mov’d to gladness, what then was my cheer,Whom nature hath made apt for every change!
As in a quiet and clear lake the fish,If aught approach them from without, do drawTowards it, deeming it their food; so drewFull more than thousand splendours towards us,And in each one was heard: “Lo! one arriv’dTo multiply our loves!” and as each cameThe shadow, streaming forth effulgence new,Witness’d augmented joy. Here, reader! think,If thou didst miss the sequel of my tale,To know the rest how sorely thou wouldst crave;And thou shalt see what vehement desirePossess’d me, as soon as these had met my view,To know their state. “O born in happy hour!Thou to whom grace vouchsafes, or ere thy closeOf fleshly warfare, to behold the thronesOf that eternal triumph, know to usThe light communicated, which through heavenExpatiates without bound. Therefore, if aughtThou of our beams wouldst borrow for thine aid,Spare not; and of our radiance take thy fill.”Thus of those piteous spirits one bespake me;And Beatrice next: “Say on; and trustAs unto gods!”—“How in the light supremeThou harbour’st, and from thence the virtue bring’st,That, sparkling in thine eyes, denotes thy joy,l mark; but, who thou art, am still to seek;Or wherefore, worthy spirit! for thy lotThis sphere assign’d, that oft from mortal kenIs veil’d by others’ beams.” I said, and turn’dToward the lustre, that with greeting, kindErewhile had hail’d me. Forthwith brighter farThan erst, it wax’d: and, as himself the sunHides through excess of light, when his warm gazeHath on the mantle of thick vapours prey’d;Within its proper ray the saintly shapeWas, through increase of gladness, thus conceal’d;And, shrouded so in splendour answer’d me,E’en as the tenour of my song declares.