Part 45

e had for its instrument the sword: But now ’t is made, taking the bread away Which the good Father locks from none. —And thou, That writes but to cancel, think, that they, Who for the vineyard, which thou wastest, died, Peter and Paul live yet, and mark thy doings. Thou hast good cause to cry, “My heart so cleaves To him, that liv’d in solitude remote, And from the wilds was dragg’d to martyrdom, I wist not of the fisherman nor Paul.” CANTO XIX Before my sight appear’d, with open wings, The beauteous image, in fruition sweet Gladdening the thronged spirits. Each did seem A little ruby, whereon so intense The sun-beam glow’d that to mine eyes it came In clear refraction. And that, which next Befalls me to portray, voice hath not utter’d, Nor hath ink written, nor in fantasy Was e’er conceiv’d. For I beheld and heard The beak discourse; and, what intention form’d Of many, singly as of one express, Beginning: “For that I was just and piteous, l am exalted to this height of glory, The which no wish exceeds: and there on earth Have I my memory left, e’en by the bad Commended, while they leave its course untrod.” Thus is one heat from many embers felt, As in that image many were the loves, And one the voice, that issued from them all. Whence I address them: “O perennial flowers Of gladness everlasting! that exhale In single breath your odours manifold! Breathe now; and let the hunger be appeas’d, That with great craving long hath held my soul, Finding no food on earth. This well I know, That if there be in heav’n a realm, that shows In faithful mirror the celestial Justice, Yours without veil reflects it. Ye discern The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself To hearken; ye the doubt that urges me With such inveterate craving.” Straight I saw, Like to a falcon issuing from the hood, That rears his head, and claps him with his wings, His beauty and his eagerness bewraying. So saw I move that stately sign, with praise Of grace divine inwoven and high song Of inexpressive joy. “He,” it began, “Who turn’d his compass on the world’s extreme, And in that space so variously hath wrought, Both openly, and in secret, in such wise Could not through all the universe display Impression of his glory, that the Word Of his omniscience should not still remain In infinite excess. In proof whereof, He first through pride supplanted, who was sum Of each created being, waited not For light celestial, and abortive fell. Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant Receptacle unto that Good, which knows No limit, measur’d by itself alone. Therefore your sight, of th’ omnipresent Mind A single beam, its origin must own Surpassing far its utmost potency. The ken, your world is gifted with, descends In th’ everlasting Justice as low down, As eye doth in the sea; which though it mark The bottom from the shore, in the wide main Discerns it not; and ne’ertheless it is, But hidden through its deepness. Light is none, Save that which cometh from the pure serene Of ne’er disturbed ether: for the rest, ’Tis darkness all, or shadow of the flesh, Or else its poison. Here confess reveal’d That covert, which hath hidden from thy search The living justice, of the which thou mad’st Such frequent question; for thou saidst—‘A man Is born on Indus’ banks, and none is there Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write, And all his inclinations and his acts, As far as human reason sees, are good, And he offendeth not in word or deed. But unbaptiz’d he dies, and void of faith. Where is the justice that condemns him? where His blame, if he believeth not?’—What then, And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit To judge at distance of a thousand miles With the short-sighted vision of a span? To him, who subtilizes thus with me, There would assuredly be room for doubt Even to wonder, did not the safe word Of scripture hold supreme authority. “O animals of clay! O spirits gross I The primal will, that in itself is good, Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne’er been mov’d. Justice consists in consonance with it, Derivable by no created good, Whose very cause depends upon its beam.” As on her nest the stork, that turns about Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed, While they with upward eyes do look on her; So lifted I my gaze; and bending so The ever-blessed image wav’d its wings, Lab’ring with such deep counsel. Wheeling round It warbled, and did say: “As are my notes To thee, who understand’st them not, such is Th’ eternal judgment unto mortal ken.” Then still abiding in that ensign rang’d, Wherewith the Romans over-awed the world, Those burning splendours of the Holy Spirit Took up the strain; and thus it spake again: “None ever hath ascended to this realm, Who hath not a believer been in Christ, Either before or after the blest limbs Were nail’d upon the wood. But lo! of those Who call ‘Christ, Christ,’ there shall be many found, In judgment, further off from him by far, Than such, to whom his name was never known. Christians like these the Ethiop shall condemn: When that the two assemblages shall part; One rich eternally, the other poor. “What may the Persians say unto your kings, When they shall see that volume, in the which All their dispraise is written, spread to view? There amidst Albert’s works shall that be read, Which will give speedy motion to the pen, When Prague shall mourn her desolated realm. There shall be read the woe, that he doth work With his adulterate money on the Seine, Who by the tusk will perish: there be read The thirsting pride, that maketh fool alike The English and Scot, impatient of their bound. There shall be seen the Spaniard’s luxury, The delicate living there of the Bohemian, Who still to worth has been a willing stranger. The halter of Jerusalem shall see A unit for his virtue, for his vices No less a mark than million. He, who guards The isle of fire by old Anchises honour’d Shall find his avarice there and cowardice; And better to denote his littleness, The writing must be letters maim’d, that speak Much in a narrow space. All there shall know His uncle and his brother’s filthy doings, Who so renown’d a nation and two crowns Have bastardized. And they, of Portugal And Norway, there shall be expos’d with him Of Ratza, who hath counterfeited ill The coin of Venice. O blest Hungary! If thou no longer patiently abid’st Thy ill-entreating! and, O blest Navarre! If with thy mountainous girdle thou wouldst arm thee In earnest of that day, e’en now are heard Wailings and groans in Famagosta’s streets And Nicosia’s, grudging at their beast, Who keepeth even footing with the rest.” CANTO XX When, disappearing, from our hemisphere, The world’s enlightener vanishes, and day On all sides wasteth, suddenly the sky, Erewhile irradiate only with his beam, Is yet again unfolded, putting forth Innumerable lights wherein one shines. Of such vicissitude in heaven I thought, As the great sign, that marshaleth the world And the world’s leaders, in the blessed beak Was silent; for that all those living lights, Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs, Such as from memory glide and fall away. Sweet love! that dost apparel thee in smiles, How lustrous was thy semblance in those sparkles, Which merely are from holy thoughts inspir’d! After the precious and bright beaming stones, That did ingem the sixth light, ceas’d the chiming Of their angelic bells; methought I heard The murmuring of a river, that doth fall From rock to rock transpicuous, making known The richness of his spring-head: and as sound Of cistern, at the fret-board, or of pipe, Is, at the wind-hole, modulate and tun’d; Thus up the neck, as it were hollow, rose That murmuring of the eagle, and forthwith Voice there assum’d, and thence along the beak Issued in form of words, such as my heart Did look for, on whose tables I inscrib’d them. “The part in me, that sees, and bears the sun,, In mortal eagles,” it began, “must now Be noted steadfastly: for of the fires, That figure me, those, glittering in mine eye, Are chief of all the greatest. This, that shines Midmost for pupil, was the same, who sang The Holy Spirit’s song, and bare about The ark from town to town; now doth he know The merit of his soul-impassion’d strains By their well-fitted guerdon. Of the five, That make the circle of the vision, he Who to the beak is nearest, comforted The widow for her son: now doth he know How dear he costeth not to follow Christ, Both from experience of this pleasant life, And of its opposite. He next, who follows In the circumference, for the over arch, By true repenting slack’d the pace of death: Now knoweth he, that the degrees of heav’n Alter not, when through pious prayer below Today’s is made tomorrow’s destiny. The other following, with the laws and me, To yield the shepherd room, pass’d o’er to Greece, From good intent producing evil fruit: Now knoweth he, how all the ill, deriv’d From his well doing, doth not helm him aught, Though it have brought destruction on the world. That, which thou seest in the under bow, Was William, whom that land bewails, which weeps For Charles and Frederick living: now he knows How well is lov’d in heav’n the righteous king, Which he betokens by his radiant seeming. Who in the erring world beneath would deem, That Trojan Ripheus in this round was set Fifth of the saintly splendours? now he knows Enough of that, which the world cannot see, The grace divine, albeit e’en his sight Reach not its utmost depth.” Like to the lark, That warbling in the air expatiates long, Then, trilling out his last sweet melody, Drops satiate with the sweetness; such appear’d That image stampt by the’ everlasting pleasure, Which fashions like itself all lovely things. I, though my doubting were as manifest, As is through glass the hue that mantles it, In silence waited not: for to my lips “What things are these?” involuntary rush’d, And forc’d a passage out: whereat I mark’d A sudden lightening and new revelry. The eye was kindled: and the blessed sign No more to keep me wond’ring and suspense, Replied: “I see that thou believ’st these things, Because I tell them, but discern’st not how; So that thy knowledge waits not on thy faith: As one who knows the name of thing by rote, But is a stranger to its properties, Till other’s tongue reveal them. Fervent love And lively hope with violence assail The kingdom of the heavens, and overcome The will of the Most high; not in such sort As man prevails o’er man; but conquers it, Because ’t is willing to be conquer’d, still, Though conquer’d, by its mercy conquering. “Those, in the eye who live the first and fifth, Cause thee to marvel, in that thou behold’st The region of the angels deck’d with them. They quitted not their bodies, as thou deem’st, Gentiles but Christians, in firm rooted faith, This of the feet in future to be pierc’d, That of feet nail’d already to the cross. One from the barrier of the dark abyss, Where never any with good will returns, Came back unto his bones. Of lively hope Such was the meed; of lively hope, that wing’d The prayers sent up to God for his release, And put power into them to bend his will. The glorious Spirit, of whom I speak to thee, A little while returning to the flesh, Believ’d in him, who had the means to help, And, in believing, nourish’d such a flame Of holy love, that at the second death He was made sharer in our gamesome mirth. The other, through the riches of that grace, Which from so deep a fountain doth distil, As never eye created saw its rising, Plac’d all his love below on just and right: Wherefore of grace God op’d in him the eye To the redemption of mankind to come; Wherein believing, he endur’d no more The filth of paganism, and