Paradiso: Canto XV
A will benign, in
which reveals itself
Ever
the love that righteously inspires,
As in the iniquitous, cupidity,
Silence imposed
upon that dulcet lyre,
And
quieted the consecrated chords,
That Heaven's right hand doth tighten and relax.
How unto just
entreaties shall be deaf
Those
substances, which, to give me desire
Of praying them, with one accord grew silent?
'Tis well that
without end he should lament,
Who
for the love of thing that doth not last
Eternally despoils him of that love!
As through the pure
and tranquil evening air
There
shoots from time to time a sudden fire,
Moving the eyes that steadfast were before,
And seems to be a
star that changeth place,
Except
that in the part where it is kindled
Nothing is missed, and this endureth little;
So from the horn
that to the right extends
Unto
that cross's foot there ran a star
Out of the constellation shining there;
Nor was the gem
dissevered from its ribbon,
But
down the radiant fillet ran along,
So that fire seemed it behind alabaster.
Thus piteous did
Anchises' shade reach forward,
If
any faith our greatest Muse deserve,
When in Elysium he his son perceived.
"O sanguis meus, O
superinfusa
Gratia
Dei, sicut tibi, cui
Bis unquam Coeli janua reclusa?"
Thus that
effulgence; whence I gave it heed;
Then
round unto my Lady turned my sight,
And on this side and that was stupefied;
For in her eyes was
burning such a smile
That
with mine own methought I touched the bottom
Both of my grace and of my Paradise!
Then, pleasant to
the hearing and the sight,
The
spirit joined to its beginning things
I understood not, so profound it spake;
Nor did it hide
itself from me by choice,
But
by necessity; for its conception
Above the mark of mortals set itself.
And when the bow of
burning sympathy
Was
so far slackened, that its speech descended
Towards the mark of our intelligence,
The first thing
that was understood by me
Was
"Benedight be Thou, O Trine and One,
Who hast unto my seed so courteous been!"
And it continued:
"Hunger long and grateful,
Drawn
from the reading of the mighty volume
Wherein is never changed the white nor dark,
Thou hast appeased,
my son, within this light
In
which I speak to thee, by grace of her
Who to this lofty flight with plumage clothed thee.
Thou thinkest that
to me thy thought doth pass
From
Him who is the first, as from the unit,
If that be known, ray out the five and six;
And therefore who I
am thou askest not,
And
why I seem more joyous unto thee
Than any other of this gladsome crowd.
Thou think'st the
truth; because the small and great
Of
this existence look into the mirror
Wherein, before thou think'st, thy thought thou showest.
But that the sacred
love, in which I watch
With
sight perpetual, and which makes me thirst
With sweet desire, may better be fulfilled,
Now let thy voice
secure and frank and glad
Proclaim
the wishes, the desire proclaim,
To which my answer is decreed already."
To Beatrice I
turned me, and she heard
Before
I spake, and smiled to me a sign,
That made the wings of my desire increase;
Then in this wise
began I: "Love and knowledge,
When
on you dawned the first Equality,
Of the same weight for each of you became;
For in the Sun,
which lighted you and burned
With
heat and radiance, they so equal are,
That all similitudes are insufficient.
But among mortals
will and argument,
For
reason that to you is manifest,
Diversely feathered in their pinions are.
Whence I, who
mortal am, feel in myself
This
inequality; so give not thanks,
Save in my heart, for this paternal welcome.
Truly do I entreat
thee, living topaz!
Set
in this precious jewel as a gem,
That thou wilt satisfy me with thy name."
"O leaf of mine, in
whom I pleasure took
E'en
while awaiting, I was thine own root!"
Such a beginning he in answer made me.
Then said to me:
"That one from whom is named
Thy
race, and who a hundred years and more
Has circled round the mount on the first cornice,
A son of mine and
thy great-grandsire was;
Well
it behoves thee that the long fatigue
Thou shouldst for him make shorter with thy works.
Florence, within
the ancient boundary
From
which she taketh still her tierce and nones,
Abode in quiet, temperate and chaste.
No golden chain she
had, nor coronal,
Nor
ladies shod with sandal shoon, nor girdle
That caught the eye more than the person did.
Not yet the
daughter at her birth struck fear
Into
the father, for the time and dower
Did not o'errun this side or that the measure.
No houses had she
void of families,
Not
yet had thither come Sardanapalus
To show what in a chamber can be done;
Not yet surpassed
had Montemalo been
By
your Uccellatojo, which surpassed
Shall in its downfall be as in its rise.
Bellincion Berti
saw I go begirt
With
leather and with bone, and from the mirror
His dame depart without a painted face;
And him of Nerli
saw, and him of Vecchio,
Contented
with their simple suits of buff
And with the spindle and the flax their dames.
O fortunate women!
and each one was certain
Of
her own burial-place, and none as yet
For sake of France was in her bed deserted.
One o'er the cradle
kept her studious watch,
And
in her lullaby the language used
That first delights the fathers and the mothers;
Another, drawing
tresses from her distaff,
Told
o'er among her family the tales
Of Trojans and of Fesole and Rome.
As great a marvel
then would have been held
A
Lapo Salterello, a Cianghella,
As Cincinnatus or Cornelia now.
To such a quiet,
such a beautiful
Life
of the citizen, to such a safe
Community, and to so sweet an inn,
Did Mary give me,
with loud cries invoked,
And
in your ancient Baptistery at once
Christian and Cacciaguida I became.
Moronto was my
brother, and Eliseo;
From
Val di Pado came to me my wife,
And from that place thy surname was derived.
I followed
afterward the Emperor Conrad,
And
he begirt me of his chivalry,
So much I pleased him with my noble deeds.
I followed in his
train against that law's
Iniquity,
whose people doth usurp
Your just possession, through your Pastor's fault.
There by that
execrable race was I
Released
from bonds of the fallacious world,
The love of which defileth many souls,
And came from
martyrdom unto this peace."