The Divine Comedy - Dante Alighieri (good e books to read txt) 📗

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 wouldst 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