Part 2

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;

“One work. Many languages. One reading experience.”