| |
| AGAIN mine eyes were fix’d on Beatrice; | |
| And, with mine eyes, my soul that in her looks | |
| Found all contentment. Yet no smile she wore: | |
| And, “Did I smile,” quoth she, “thou wouldst be straight | |
| Like Semele when into ashes turn’d; | 5 |
| For, mounting these eternal palace-stairs, | |
| My beauty, which the loftier it climbs, | |
| As thou hast noted, still doth kindle more, | |
| So shines, that, were no tempering interposed, | |
| Thy mortal puissance would from its rays | 10 |
| Shrink, as the leaf doth from the thunderbolt. | |
| Into the seventh splendour 1 are we wafted, | |
| That, underneath the burning lion’s breast, 2 | |
| Beams, in this hour, commingled with his might. | |
| Thy mind be with thine eyes; and, in them, mirror’d 3 | 15 |
| The shape, which in this mirror shall be shown.” | |
| Whoso can deem, how fondly I had fed | |
| My sight upon her blissful countenance, | |
| May know, when to new thoughts I changed, what joy | |
| To do the bidding of my heavenly guide; | 20 |
| In equal balance, 4 poising either weight. | |
| Within the crystal, which records the name | |
| (As its remoter circle girds the world) | |
| Of that loved monarch, 5 in whose happy reign | |
| No ill had power to harm, I saw rear’d up, | 25 |
| In colour like to sun-illumined gold, | |
| A ladder, which my ken pursued in vain, | |
| So lofty was the summit; down whose steps | |
| I saw the splendours in such multitude | |
| Descending, every light in Heaven, methought, | 30 |
| Was shed thence. As the rooks, at dawn of day, | |
| Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill, | |
| Some speed their way a-field; and homeward some, | |
| Returning, cross their flight; while some abide, | |
| And wheel around their airy lodge: so seem’d | 35 |
| That glitterance, 6 wafted on alternate wing, | |
| As upon certain stair it came, and clash’d | |
| Its shining. And one, lingering near us, wax’d | |
| So bright, that in my thought I said: “The love, | |
| Which this betokens me, admits no doubt.” | 40 |
| Unwillingly from question I refrain; | |
| To her, by whom my silence and my speech | |
| Are order’d, looking for a sign: whence she, | |
| Who in the sight of Him, that seeth all, | |
| Saw wherefore I was silent, prompted me | 45 |
| To indulge the fervent wish; and I began: | |
| “I am not worthy, of my own desert, | |
| That thou shouldst answer me: but for her sake, | |
| Who hath vouchsafed my asking, spirit blest, | |
| That in thy joy art shrouded! say the cause, | 50 |
| Which bringeth thee so near: and wherefore, say, | |
| Doth the sweet symphony of Paradise | |
| Keep silence here, pervading with such sounds | |
| Of rapt devotion every lower sphere?” | |
| “Mortal art thou in hearing, as in sight;” | 55 |
| Was the reply: “and what forbade the smile 7 | |
| Of Beatrice interrupts our song. | |
| Only to yield thee gladness of my voice, | |
| And of the light that vests me, I thus far | |
| Descend these hallow’d steps; not that more love | 60 |
| Invites me; for, lo! there aloft, 8 as much | |
| Or more of love is witness’d in those flames: | |
| But such my lot by charity assign’d, | |
| That makes us ready servants, as thou seest, | |
| To execute the counsel of the Highest.” | 65 |
| “That in this court,” said I, “O sacred lamp! | |
| Love no compulsion needs, but follows free | |
| The eternal Providence, I well discern: | |
| This harder find to deem: why, of thy peers, | |
| Thou only, to this office wert foredoom’d.” | 70 |
| I had not ended, when, like rapid mill, | |
| Upon its centre whirl’d the light; and then | |
| The love that did inhabit there, replied: | |
| “Splendour eternal, piercing through these folds, | |
| Its virtue to my vision knits; and thus | 75 |
| Supported, lifts me so above myself, | |
| That on the sovran Essence, which it wells from, | |
| I have the power to gaze: and hence the joy, | |
| Wherewith I sparkle, equaling with my blaze | |
| The keenness of my sight. But not the soul, 9 | 80 |
| That is in Heaven most lustrous, nor the Seraph, | |
| That hath his eyes most fix’d on God, shall solve | |
| What thou hast ask’d: for in the abyss it lies | |
| Of th’ everlasting statute sunks so low, | |
| That no created ken may fathom it. | 85 |
| And, to the mortal world when thou return’st, | |
| Be this reported: that none henceforth dare | |
| Direct his footsteps to so dread a bourn. | |
| The mind, that here is radiant, on the earth | |
| Is wrapt in mist. Look then if she may do | 90 |
| Below, what passeth her ability | |
| When she is ta’en to Heaven.” By words like these | |
| Admonish’d, I the question urged no more; | |
| And of the spirit humbly sued alone | |
| To instruct me of its state. “’Twixt either shore 10 | 95 |
| Of Italy, nor distant from thy land, | |
| A stony ridge 11 ariseth; in such sort, | |
| The thunder doth not lift his voice so high. | |
| They call it Catria: 12 at whose foot, a cell | |
| Is sacred to the lonely Eremite; | 100 |
| For worship set apart and holy rites.” | |
| A third time thus it spake; then added: “There | |
| So firmly to God’s service I adhered, | |
| That with no costlier viands than the juice | |
| Of olives, easily I pass’d the heats | 105 |
| Of summer and the winter frosts; content | |
| In heaven-ward musings. Rich were the returns | |
| And fertile, which that cloister once was used | |
| To render to these Heavens: now ’tis fallen | |
| Into a waste so empty, that ere long | 110 |
| Detection must lay bare its vanity. | |
| Pietro Damiano 13 there was I y-clept: | |
| Pietro the sinner, when before I dwelt, | |
| Beside the Adriatic, 14 in the house | |
| Of our blest Lady. Near upon my close | 115 |
| Of mortal life, through much importuning | |
| I was constrain’d to weat the hat, 15 that still | |
| From bad to worse is shifted.—Cephas 16 came: | |
| He came, who was the Holy Spirit’s vessel; 17 | |
| Barefoot and lean; eating their bread, as chanced, | 120 |
| At the first table. Modern Shepherds need | |
| Those who on either hand may prop and lead them, | |
| So burly are they grown; and from behind, | |
| Others to hoist them. Down the palfrey’s sides | |
| Spread their broad mantles, so as both the beasts | 125 |
| Are cover’d with one skin. O patience! thou | |
| That look’st on this, and dost endure so long.” | |
| I at those accents saw the splendours down | |
| From step to step alight, and wheel, and wax, | |
| Each circuiting, more beautiful. Round this 18 | 130 |
| They came, and stay’d them; utter’d then a shout | |
| So loud, it hath no likeness here: nor I | |
| Wist what it spake, so deafening was the thunder. | |
