The Divine Comedy: Paradise, by Dante Alighieri

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,

‘I 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,

I 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.

http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/d/dante/d19pa/canto5.html

Last updated Friday, March 7, 2014 at 15:58