The Vision of Dante Alighiere or Hell, Purgatory and Paradise Page 3

E'en as Alcmaeon, at his father's suit

  Slew his own mother, so made pitiless

  Not to lose pity. On this point bethink thee,

  That force and will are blended in such wise

  As not to make the' offence excusable.

  Absolute will agrees not to the wrong,

  That inasmuch as there is fear of woe

  From non-compliance, it agrees. Of will

  Thus absolute Piccarda spake, and I

  Of th' other; so that both have truly said."

  Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well'd

  From forth the fountain of all truth; and such

  The rest, that to my wond'ring thoughts l found.

  "O thou of primal love the prime delight!

  Goddess! "I straight reply'd, "whose lively words

  Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul!

  Affection fails me to requite thy grace

  With equal sum of gratitude: be his

  To recompense, who sees and can reward thee.

  Well I discern, that by that truth alone

  Enlighten'd, beyond which no truth may roam,

  Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know:

  Therein she resteth, e'en as in his lair

  The wild beast, soon as she hath reach'd that bound,

  And she hath power to reach it; else desire

  Were given to no end. And thence doth doubt

  Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth;

  And it is nature which from height to height

  On to the summit prompts us. This invites,

  This doth assure me, lady, rev'rently

  To ask thee of other truth, that yet

  Is dark to me. I fain would know, if man

  By other works well done may so supply

  The failure of his vows, that in your scale

  They lack not weight." I spake; and on me straight

  Beatrice look'd with eyes that shot forth sparks

  Of love celestial in such copious stream,

  That, virtue sinking in me overpower'd,

  I turn'd, and downward bent confus'd my sight.

  CANTO V

  "If beyond earthly wont, the flame of love

  Illume me, so that I o'ercome thy power

  Of vision, marvel not: but learn the cause

  In that perfection of the sight, which soon

  As apprehending, hasteneth on to reach

  The good it apprehends. I well discern,

  How in thine intellect already shines

  The light eternal, which to view alone

  Ne'er fails to kindle love; and if aught else

  Your love seduces, 't is but that it shows

  Some ill-mark'd vestige of that primal beam.

  "This would'st thou know, if failure of the vow

  By 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 off

  Discourse, continued in her saintly strain.

  "Supreme of gifts, which God creating gave

  Of his free bounty, sign most evident

  Of goodness, and in his account most priz'd,

  Was liberty of will, the boon wherewith

  All intellectual creatures, and them sole

  He hath endow'd. Hence now thou mayst infer

  Of what high worth the vow, which so is fram'd

  That 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, herein

  Dispensing, seems to contradict the truth

  I have discover'd to thee, yet behooves

  Thou 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 comes

  Of learning well retain'd, unfruitful else.

  "This sacrifice in essence of two things

  Consisteth; one is that, whereof 't is made,

  The covenant the other. For the last,

  It ne'er is cancell'd if not kept: and hence

  I 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 change

  The offering, still to offer. Th' other part,

  The matter and the substance of the vow,

  May well be such, to that without offence

  It may for other substance be exchang'd.

  But at his own discretion none may shift

  The burden on his shoulders, unreleas'd

  By either key, the yellow and the white.

  Nor deem of any change, as less than vain,

  If the last bond be not within the new

  Included, as the quatre in the six.

  No satisfaction therefore can be paid

  For what so precious in the balance weighs,

  That all in counterpoise must kick the beam.

  Take then no vow at random: ta'en, with faith

  Preserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once,

  Blindly to execute a rash resolve,

  Whom better it had suited to exclaim,

  '1 have done ill,' than to redeem his pledge

  By doing worse or, not unlike to him

  In folly, that great leader of the Greeks:

  Whence, on the alter, Iphigenia mourn'd

  Her virgin beauty, and hath since made mourn

  Both wise and simple, even all, who hear

  Of so fell sacrifice. Be ye more staid,

  O Christians, not, like feather, by each wind

  Removable: nor think to cleanse ourselves

  In every water. Either testament,

  The old and new, is yours: and for your guide

  The shepherd of the church let this suffice

  To 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 world

  Is 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 sped

  Into the second realm. There I beheld

  The dame, so joyous enter, that the orb

  Grew brighter at her smiles; and, if the star

  Were 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 draw

  Towards it, deeming it their food; so drew

  Full more than thousand splendours towards us,

  And in each one was heard: "Lo! one arriv'd

  To multiply our loves!" and as each came

  The 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 would
st crave;

  And thou shalt see what vehement desire

  Possess'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 close

  Of fleshly warfare, to behold the thrones

  Of that eternal triumph, know to us

  The light communicated, which through heaven

  Expatiates without bound. Therefore, if aught

  Thou 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 trust

  As unto gods!" --"How in the light supreme

  Thou 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 lot

  This sphere assign'd, that oft from mortal ken

  Is veil'd by others' beams." I said, and turn'd

  Toward the lustre, that with greeting, kind

  Erewhile had hail'd me. Forthwith brighter far

  Than erst, it wax'd: and, as himself the sun

  Hides through excess of light, when his warm gaze

  Hath on the mantle of thick vapours prey'd;

  Within its proper ray the saintly shape

  Was, through increase of gladness, thus conceal'd;

  And, shrouded so in splendour answer'd me,

  E'en as the tenour of my song declares.

  CANTO VI

  "After that Constantine the eagle turn'd

  Against the motions of the heav'n, that roll'd

  Consenting with its course, when he of yore,

  Lavinia's spouse, was leader of the flight,

  A hundred years twice told and more, his seat

  At Europe's extreme point, the bird of Jove

  Held, near the mountains, whence he issued first.

  There, under shadow of his sacred plumes

  Swaying the world, till through successive hands

  To mine he came devolv'd. Caesar I was,

  And am Justinian; destin'd by the will

  Of that prime love, whose influence I feel,

  From vain excess to clear th' encumber'd laws.

  Or ere that work engag'd me, I did hold

  Christ's nature merely human, with such faith

  Contented. But the blessed Agapete,

  Who was chief shepherd, he with warning voice

  To the true faith recall'd me. I believ'd

  His words: and what he taught, now plainly see,

  As thou in every contradiction seest

  The true and false oppos'd. Soon as my feet

  Were to the church reclaim'd, to my great task,

  By inspiration of God's grace impell'd,

  I gave me wholly, and consign'd mine arms

  To Belisarius, with whom heaven's right hand

  Was link'd in such conjointment, 't was a sign

  That I should rest. To thy first question thus

  I shape mine answer, which were ended here,

  But that its tendency doth prompt perforce

  To some addition; that thou well, mayst mark

  What reason on each side they have to plead,

  By whom that holiest banner is withstood,

  Both who pretend its power and who oppose.

  "Beginning from that hour, when Pallas died

  To give it rule, behold the valorous deeds

  Have made it worthy reverence. Not unknown

  To thee, how for three hundred years and more

  It dwelt in Alba, up to those fell lists

  Where for its sake were met the rival three;

  Nor aught unknown to thee, which it achiev'd

  Down to the Sabines' wrong to Lucrece' woe,

  With its sev'n kings conqu'ring the nation round;

  Nor all it wrought, by Roman worthies home

  'Gainst Brennus and th' Epirot prince, and hosts

  Of single chiefs, or states in league combin'd

  Of social warfare; hence Torquatus stern,

  And Quintius nam'd of his neglected locks,

  The Decii, and the Fabii hence acquir'd

  Their fame, which I with duteous zeal embalm.

  By it the pride of Arab hordes was quell'd,

  When they led on by Hannibal o'erpass'd

  The Alpine rocks, whence glide thy currents, Po!

  Beneath its guidance, in their prime of days

  Scipio and Pompey triumph'd; and that hill,

  Under whose summit thou didst see the light,

  Rued its stern bearing. After, near the hour,

  When heav'n was minded that o'er all the world

  His own deep calm should brood, to Caesar's hand

  Did Rome consign it; and what then it wrought

  From Var unto the Rhine, saw Isere's flood,

  Saw Loire and Seine, and every vale, that fills

  The torrent Rhone. What after that it wrought,

  When from Ravenna it came forth, and leap'd

  The Rubicon, was of so bold a flight,

  That tongue nor pen may follow it. Tow'rds Spain

  It wheel'd its bands, then tow'rd Dyrrachium smote,

  And on Pharsalia with so fierce a plunge,

  E'en the warm Nile was conscious to the pang;

  Its native shores Antandros, and the streams

  Of Simois revisited, and there

  Where Hector lies; then ill for Ptolemy

  His pennons shook again; lightning thence fell

  On Juba; and the next upon your west,

  At sound of the Pompeian trump, return'd.

  "What following and in its next bearer's gripe

  It wrought, is now by Cassius and Brutus

  Bark'd off in hell, and by Perugia's sons

  And Modena's was mourn'd. Hence weepeth still

  Sad Cleopatra, who, pursued by it,

  Took from the adder black and sudden death.

  With him it ran e'en to the Red Sea coast;

  With him compos'd the world to such a peace,

  That of his temple Janus barr'd the door.

  "But all the mighty standard yet had wrought,

  And was appointed to perform thereafter,

  Throughout the mortal kingdom which it sway'd,

  Falls in appearance dwindled and obscur'd,

  If one with steady eye and perfect thought

  On the third Caesar look; for to his hands,

  The living Justice, in whose breath I move,

  Committed glory, e'en into his hands,

  To execute the vengeance of its wrath.

  "Hear now and wonder at what next I tell.

  After with Titus it was sent to wreak

  Vengeance for vengeance of the ancient sin,

  And, when the Lombard tooth, with fangs impure,

  Did gore the bosom of the holy church,

  Under its wings victorious, Charlemagne

  Sped to her rescue. Judge then for thyself

  Of those, whom I erewhile accus'd to thee,

  What they are, and how grievous their offending,

  Who are the cause of all your ills. The one

  Against the universal ensign rears

  The yellow lilies, and with partial aim

  That to himself the other arrogates:

  So that 't is hard to see which more offends.

  Be yours, ye Ghibellines, to veil your arts

  Beneath another standard: ill is this

  Follow'd of him, who severs it and justice:

  And let not with his Guelphs the new-crown'd Charles

  Assail it, but those talons hold in dread,

  Which from a lion of more lofty port

  Have rent the easing. Many a time ere now

  The sons have for the sire's transgre
ssion wail'd;

  Nor let him trust the fond belief, that heav'n

  Will truck its armour for his lilied shield.

  "This little star is furnish'd with good spirits,

  Whose mortal lives were busied to that end,

  That honour and renown might wait on them:

  And, when desires thus err in their intention,

  True love must needs ascend with slacker beam.

  But it is part of our delight, to measure

  Our wages with the merit; and admire

  The close proportion. Hence doth heav'nly justice

  Temper so evenly affection in us,

  It ne'er can warp to any wrongfulness.

  Of diverse voices is sweet music made:

  So in our life the different degrees

  Render sweet harmony among these wheels.

  "Within the pearl, that now encloseth us,

  Shines Romeo's light, whose goodly deed and fair

  Met ill acceptance. But the Provencals,

  That were his foes, have little cause for mirth.

  Ill shapes that man his course, who makes his wrong

  Of other's worth. Four daughters were there born

  To Raymond Berenger, and every one

  Became a queen; and this for him did Romeo,

  Though of mean state and from a foreign land.

  Yet envious tongues incited him to ask

  A reckoning of that just one, who return'd

  Twelve fold to him for ten. Aged and poor

  He parted thence: and if the world did know

  The heart he had, begging his life by morsels,

  'T would deem the praise, it yields him, scantly dealt."

  CANTO VII

  "Hosanna Sanctus Deus Sabaoth

  Superillustrans claritate tua

  Felices ignes horum malahoth!"

  Thus chanting saw I turn that substance bright

  With fourfold lustre to its orb again,

  Revolving; and the rest unto their dance

  With it mov'd also; and like swiftest sparks,

  In sudden distance from my sight were veil'd.

  Me doubt possess'd, and "Speak," it whisper'd me,

  "Speak, speak unto thy lady, that she quench

  Thy thirst with drops of sweetness." Yet blank awe,

  Which lords it o'er me, even at the sound

  Of Beatrice's name, did bow me down

  As one in slumber held. Not long that mood

  Beatrice suffer'd: she, with such a smile,

  As might have made one blest amid the flames,

  Beaming upon me, thus her words began:

  "Thou in thy thought art pond'ring (as I deem,

  And what I deem is truth how just revenge

  Could be with justice punish'd: from which doubt

  I soon will free thee; so thou mark my words;

  For they of weighty matter shall possess thee.

  "That man, who was unborn, himself condemn'd,

  And, in himself, all, who since him have liv'd,

  His offspring: whence, below, the human kind

  Lay sick in grievous error many an age;

  Until it pleas'd the Word of God to come

  Amongst them down, to his own person joining

  The nature, from its Maker far estrang'd,

  By the mere act of his eternal love.

  Contemplate here the wonder I unfold.

  The nature with its Maker thus conjoin'd,

  Created first was blameless, pure and good;

  But through itself alone was driven forth

  From Paradise, because it had eschew'd

  The way of truth and life, to evil turn'd.

  Ne'er then was penalty so just as that

  Inflicted by the cross, if thou regard

  The nature in assumption doom'd: ne'er wrong

  So great, in reference to him, who took

  Such nature on him, and endur'd the doom.

  God therefore and the Jews one sentence pleased:

  So different effects flow'd from one act,

  And heav'n was open'd, though the earth did quake.

  Count it not hard henceforth, when thou dost hear

  That a just vengeance was by righteous court

  Justly reveng'd. But yet I see thy mind

  By thought on thought arising sore perplex'd,

  And with how vehement desire it asks

  Solution of the maze. What I have heard,

  Is plain, thou sayst: but wherefore God this way

  For our redemption chose, eludes my search.

  "Brother! no eye of man not perfected,

  Nor fully ripen'd in the flame of love,

  May fathom this decree. It is a mark,

  In sooth, much aim'd at, and but little kenn'd:

  And I will therefore show thee why such way

  Was worthiest. The celestial love, that spume

  All envying in its bounty, in itself

  With such effulgence blazeth, as sends forth

  All beauteous things eternal. What distils

  Immediate thence, no end of being knows,

  Bearing its seal immutably impress'd.

  Whatever thence immediate falls, is free,

  Free wholly, uncontrollable by power

  Of each thing new: by such conformity

  More grateful to its author, whose bright beams,

  Though all partake their shining, yet in those

  Are liveliest, which resemble him the most.

  These tokens of pre-eminence on man

  Largely bestow'd, if any of them fail,

  He needs must forfeit his nobility,

  No longer stainless. Sin alone is that,

  Which doth disfranchise him, and make unlike

  To the chief good; for that its light in him

  Is darken'd. And to dignity thus lost