Divine Comedy, Longfellow's Translation, Paradise · Dante Alighieri
PARADISO
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.
For more the daughter of Belus never burned, Offending both Sichaeus and Creusa, Than I, so long as it became my locks, Nor yet that Rodophean, who deluded was by Demophoon, nor yet Alcides, When Iole he in his heart had locked. Yet here is no repenting, but we smile, Not at the fault, which comes not back to mind, But at the power which ordered and foresaw. Here we behold the art that doth adorn With such affection, and the good discover Whereby the world above turns that below. But that thou wholly satisfied mayst bear Thy wishes hence which in this sphere are born, Still farther to proceed behoveth me. Thou fain wouldst know who is within this light That here beside me thus is scintillating, Even as a sunbeam in the limpid water. Then know thou, that within there is at rest Rahab, and being to our order joined, With her in its supremest grade ’tis sealed. Into this heaven, where ends the shadowy cone Cast by your world, before all other souls First of Christ’s triumph was she taken up. Full meet it was to leave her in some heaven, Even as a palm of the high victory Which he acquired with one palm and the other, Because she favoured the first glorious deed Of Joshua upon the Holy Land, That little stirs the memory of the Pope.
And if their pathway were not thus inflected, Much virtue in the heavens would be in vain, And almost every power below here dead. If from the straight line distant more or less Were the departure, much would wanting be Above and underneath of mundane order. Remain now, Reader, still upon thy bench, In thought pursuing that which is foretasted, If thou wouldst jocund be instead of weary. I’ve set before thee; henceforth feed thyself, For to itself diverteth all my care That theme whereof I have been made the scribe. The greatest of the ministers of nature, Who with the power of heaven the world imprints And measures with his light the time for us, With that part which above is called to mind Conjoined, along the spirals was revolving, Where each time earlier he presents himself; And I was with him; but of the ascending I was not conscious, saving as a man Of a first thought is conscious ere it come; And Beatrice, she who is seen to pass From good to better, and so suddenly That not by time her action is expressed, How lucent in herself must she have been! And what was in the sun, wherein I entered, Apparent not by colour but by light, I, though I call on genius, art, and practice, Cannot so tell that it could be imagined; Believe one can, and let him long to see it.
And if our fantasies too lowly are For altitude so great, it is no marvel, Since o’er the sun was never eye could go. Such in this place was the fourth family Of the high Father, who forever sates it, Showing how he breathes forth and how begets. And Beatrice began: “Give thanks, give thanks Unto the Sun of Angels, who to this Sensible one has raised thee by his grace!” Never was heart of mortal so disposed To worship, nor to give itself to God With all its gratitude was it so ready, As at those words did I myself become; And all my love was so absorbed in Him, That in oblivion Beatrice was eclipsed. Nor this displeased her; but she smiled at it So that the splendour of her laughing eyes My single mind on many things divided. Lights many saw I, vivid and triumphant, Make us a centre and themselves a circle, More sweet in voice than luminous in aspect. Thus girt about the daughter of Latona We sometimes see, when pregnant is the air, So that it holds the thread which makes her zone. Within the court of Heaven, whence I return, Are many jewels found, so fair and precious They cannot be transported from the realm; And of them was the singing of those lights. Who takes not wings that he may fly up thither, The tidings thence may from the dumb await!
As soon as singing thus those burning suns Had round about us whirled themselves three times, Like unto stars neighbouring the steadfast poles, Ladies they seemed, not from the dance released, But who stop short, in silence listening Till they have gathered the new melody. And within one I heard beginning: “When The radiance of grace, by which is kindled True love, and which thereafter grows by loving, Within thee multiplied is so resplendent That it conducts thee upward by that stair, Where without reascending none descends, Who should deny the wine out of his vial Unto thy thirst, in liberty were not Except as water which descends not seaward. Fain wouldst thou know with what plants is enflowered This garland that encircles with delight The Lady fair who makes thee strong for heaven. Of the lambs was I of the holy flock Which Dominic conducteth by a road Where well one fattens if he strayeth not. He who is nearest to me on the right My brother and master was; and he Albertus Is of Cologne, I Thomas of Aquinum. If thou of all the others wouldst be certain, Follow behind my speaking with thy sight Upward along the blessed garland turning. That next effulgence issues from the smile Of Gratian, who assisted both the courts In such wise that it pleased in Paradise.
The other which near by adorns our choir That Peter was who, e’en as the poor widow, Offered his treasure unto Holy Church. The fifth light, that among us is the fairest, Breathes forth from such a love, that all the world Below is greedy to learn tidings of it. Within it is the lofty mind, where knowledge So deep was put, that, if the true be true, To see so much there never rose a second. Thou seest next the lustre of that taper, Which in the flesh below looked most within The angelic nature and its ministry. Within that other little light is smiling The advocate of the Christian centuries, Out of whose rhetoric Augustine was furnished. Now if thou trainest thy mind’s eye along From light to light pursuant of my praise, With thirst already of the eighth thou waitest. By seeing every good therein exults The sainted soul, which the fallacious world Makes manifest to him who listeneth well; The body whence ’twas hunted forth is lying Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom And banishment it came unto this peace. See farther onward flame the burning breath Of Isidore, of Beda, and of Richard Who was in contemplation more than man. This, whence to me returneth thy regard, The light is of a spirit unto whom In his grave meditations death seemed slow.
“Even as I am kindled in its ray, So, looking into the Eternal Light, The occasion of thy thoughts I apprehend. Thou doubtest, and wouldst have me to resift In language so extended and so open My speech, that to thy sense it may be plain, Where just before I said, ‘where well one fattens,’ And where I said, ‘there never rose a second;’ And here ’tis needful we distinguish well. The Providence, which governeth the world With counsel, wherein all created vision Is vanquished ere it reach unto the bottom, (So that towards her own Beloved might go The bride of Him who, uttering a loud cry, Espoused her with his consecrated blood, Self-confident and unto Him more faithful,) Two Princes did ordain in her behoof, Which on this side and that might be her guide. The one was all seraphical in ardour; The other by his wisdom upon earth A splendour was of light cherubical. One will I speak of, for of both is spoken In praising one, whichever may be taken, Because unto one end their labours were. Between Tupino and the stream that falls Down from the hill elect of blessed Ubald, A fertile slope of lofty mountain hangs, From which Perugia feels the cold and heat Through Porta Sole, and behind it weep Gualdo and Nocera their grievous yoke.
Soon as the blessed flame had taken up The final word to give it utterance, Began the holy millstone to revolve, And in its gyre had not turned wholly round, Before another in a ring enclosed it, And motion joined to motion, song to song; Song that as greatly doth transcend our Muses, Our Sirens, in those dulcet clarions, As primal splendour that which is reflected. And as are spanned athwart a tender cloud Two rainbows parallel and like in colour, When Juno to her handmaid gives command, (The one without born of the one within, Like to the speaking of that vagrant one Whom love consumed as doth the sun the vapours,) And make the people here, through covenant God set with Noah, presageful of the world That shall no more be covered with a flood, In such wise of those sempiternal roses The garlands twain encompassed us about, And thus the outer to the inner answered. After the dance, and other grand rejoicings, Both of the singing, and the flaming forth Effulgence with effulgence blithe and tender, Together, at once, with one accord had stopped, (Even as the eyes, that, as volition moves them, Must needs together shut and lift themselves,) Out of the heart of one of the new lights There came a voice, that needle to the star Made me appear in turning thitherward.
And it began: “The love that makes me fair Draws me to speak about the other leader, By whom so well is spoken here of mine. ’Tis right, where one is, to bring in the other, That, as they were united in their warfare, Together likewise may their glory shine. The soldiery of Christ, which it had cost So dear to arm again, behind the standard Moved slow and doubtful and in numbers few, When the Emperor who reigneth evermore Provided for the host that was in peril, Through grace alone and not that it was worthy; And, as was said, he to his Bride brought succour With champions twain, at whose deed, at whose word The straggling people were together drawn. Within that region where the sweet west wind Rises to open the new leaves, wherewith Europe is seen to clothe herself afresh, Not far off from the beating of the waves, Behind which in his long career the sun Sometimes conceals himself from every man, Is situate the fortunate Calahorra, Under protection of the mighty shield In which the Lion subject is and sovereign. Therein was born the amorous paramour Of Christian Faith, the athlete consecrate, Kind to his own and cruel to his foes; And when it was created was his mind Replete with such a living energy, That in his mother her it made prophetic.
Not to dispense or two or three for six, Not any fortune of first vacancy, ‘Non decimas quae sunt pauperum Dei,’ He asked for, but against the errant world Permission to do battle for the seed, Of which these four and twenty plants surround thee. Then with the doctrine and the will together, With office apostolical he moved, Like torrent which some lofty vein out-presses; And in among the shoots heretical His impetus with greater fury smote, Wherever the resistance was the greatest. Of him were made thereafter divers runnels, Whereby the garden catholic is watered, So that more living its plantations stand. If such the one wheel of the Biga was, In which the Holy Church itself defended And in the field its civic battle won, Truly full manifest should be to thee The excellence of the other, unto whom Thomas so courteous was before my coming. But still the orbit, which the highest part Of its circumference made, is derelict, So that the mould is where was once the crust. His family, that had straight forward moved With feet upon his footprints, are turned round So that they set the point upon the heel. And soon aware they will be of the harvest Of this bad husbandry, when shall the tares Complain the granary is taken from them.
Let him the Wain imagine unto which Our vault of heaven sufficeth night and day, So that in turning of its pole it fails not; Let him the mouth imagine of the horn That in the point beginneth of the axis Round about which the primal wheel revolves,— To have fashioned of themselves two signs in heaven, Like unto that which Minos’ daughter made, The moment when she felt the frost of death; And one to have its rays within the other, And both to whirl themselves in such a manner That one should forward go, the other backward; And he will have some shadowing forth of that True constellation and the double dance That circled round the point at which I was; Because it is as much beyond our wont, As swifter than the motion of the Chiana Moveth the heaven that all the rest outspeeds. There sang they neither Bacchus, nor Apollo, But in the divine nature Persons three, And in one person the divine and human. The singing and the dance fulfilled their measure, And unto us those holy lights gave need, Growing in happiness from care to care. Then broke the silence of those saints concordant The light in which the admirable life Of God’s own mendicant was told to me, And said: “Now that one straw is trodden out Now that its seed is garnered up already, Sweet love invites me to thresh out the other.
Into that bosom, thou believest, whence Was drawn the rib to form the beauteous cheek Whose taste to all the world is costing dear, And into that which, by the lance transfixed, Before and since, such satisfaction made That it weighs down the balance of all sin, Whate’er of light it has to human nature Been lawful to possess was all infused By the same power that both of them created; And hence at what I said above dost wonder, When I narrated that no second had The good which in the fifth light is enclosed. Now ope thine eyes to what I answer thee, And thou shalt see thy creed and my discourse Fit in the truth as centre in a circle. That which can die, and that which dieth not, Are nothing but the splendour of the idea Which by his love our Lord brings into being; Because that living Light, which from its fount Effulgent flows, so that it disunites not From Him nor from the Love in them intrined, Through its own goodness reunites its rays In nine subsistences, as in a mirror, Itself eternally remaining One. Thence it descends to the last potencies, Downward from act to act becoming such That only brief contingencies it makes; And these contingencies I hold to be Things generated, which the heaven produces By its own motion, with seed and without.
Thus did Sabellius, Arius, and those fools Who have been even as swords unto the Scriptures In rendering distorted their straight faces. Nor yet shall people be too confident In judging, even as he is who doth count The corn in field or ever it be ripe. For I have seen all winter long the thorn First show itself intractable and fierce, And after bear the rose upon its top; And I have seen a ship direct and swift Run o’er the sea throughout its course entire, To perish at the harbour’s mouth at last. Let not Dame Bertha nor Ser Martin think, Seeing one steal, another offering make, To see them in the arbitrament divine; For one may rise, and fall the other may.” Paradiso: Canto XIV From centre unto rim, from rim to centre, In a round vase the water moves itself, As from without ’tis struck or from within. Into my mind upon a sudden dropped What I am saying, at the moment when Silent became the glorious life of Thomas, Because of the resemblance that was born Of his discourse and that of Beatrice, Whom, after him, it pleased thus to begin: “This man has need (and does not tell you so, Nor with the voice, nor even in his thought) Of going to the root of one truth more.
Declare unto him if the light wherewith Blossoms your substance shall remain with you Eternally the same that it is now; And if it do remain, say in what manner, After ye are again made visible, It can be that it injure not your sight.” As by a greater gladness urged and drawn They who are dancing in a ring sometimes Uplift their voices and their motions quicken; So, at that orison devout and prompt, The holy circles a new joy displayed In their revolving and their wondrous song. Whoso lamenteth him that here we die That we may live above, has never there Seen the refreshment of the eternal rain. The One and Two and Three who ever liveth, And reigneth ever in Three and Two and One, Not circumscribed and all things circumscribing, Three several times was chanted by each one Among those spirits, with such melody That for all merit it were just reward; And, in the lustre most divine of all The lesser ring, I heard a modest voice, Such as perhaps the Angel’s was to Mary, Answer: “As long as the festivity Of Paradise shall be, so long our love Shall radiate round about us such a vesture. Its brightness is proportioned to the ardour, The ardour to the vision; and the vision Equals what grace it has above its worth.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.