Divine Comedy: Paradise | Page 6

not conceal me long, but thou wilt know
Piccarda,

in the tardiest sphere thus plac'd,
Here 'mid these other blessed also
blest.
Our hearts, whose high affections burn alone
With pleasure,
from the Holy Spirit conceiv'd,
Admitted to his order dwell in joy.

And this condition, which appears so low,
Is for this cause assign'd us,
that our vows
Were in some part neglected and made void."
Whence I to her replied: "Something divine
Beams in your
countenance, wond'rous fair,
From former knowledge quite
transmuting you.
Therefore to recollect was I so slow.
But what
thou sayst hath to my memory
Given now such aid, that to retrace
your forms
Is easier. Yet inform me, ye, who here
Are happy, long
ye for a higher place
More to behold, and more in love to dwell?"
She with those other spirits gently smil'd,
Then answer'd with such
gladness, that she seem'd
With love's first flame to glow: "Brother!
our will
Is in composure settled by the power
Of charity, who
makes us will alone
What we possess, and nought beyond desire;
If
we should wish to be exalted more,
Then must our wishes jar with the
high will
Of him, who sets us here, which in these orbs
Thou wilt
confess not possible, if here
To be in charity must needs befall,
And
if her nature well thou contemplate.
Rather it is inherent in this state

Of blessedness, to keep ourselves within
The divine will, by which
our wills with his
Are one. So that as we from step to step
Are
plac'd throughout this kingdom, pleases all,
E'en as our King, who in
us plants his will;
And in his will is our tranquillity;
It is the mighty
ocean, whither tends
Whatever it creates and nature makes."
Then saw I clearly how each spot in heav'n
Is Paradise, though with
like gracious dew
The supreme virtue show'r not over all.
But as it chances, if one sort of food
Hath satiated, and of another still

The appetite remains, that this is ask'd,
And thanks for that return'd;
e'en so did I
In word and motion, bent from her to learn
What web
it was, through which she had not drawn
The shuttle to its point. She

thus began:
"Exalted worth and perfectness of life
The Lady higher
up enshrine in heaven,
By whose pure laws upon your nether earth

The robe and veil they wear, to that intent,
That e'en till death they
may keep watch or sleep
With their great bridegroom, who accepts
each vow,
Which to his gracious pleasure love conforms.
from the
world, to follow her, when young
Escap'd; and, in her vesture
mantling me,
Made promise of the way her sect enjoins.
Thereafter
men, for ill than good more apt,
Forth snatch'd me from the pleasant
cloister's pale.
God knows how after that my life was fram'd.
This
other splendid shape, which thou beholdst
At my right side, burning
with all the light
Of this our orb, what of myself I tell
May to
herself apply. From her, like me
A sister, with like violence were torn

The saintly folds, that shaded her fair brows.
E'en when she to the
world again was brought
In spite of her own will and better wont,

Yet not for that the bosom's inward veil
Did she renounce. This is the
luminary
Of mighty Constance, who from that loud blast,
Which
blew the second over Suabia's realm,
That power produc'd, which
was the third and last."
She ceas'd from further talk, and then began
"Ave Maria" singing,
and with that song
Vanish'd, as heavy substance through deep wave.
Mine eye, that far as it was capable,
Pursued her, when in dimness
she was lost,
Turn'd to the mark where greater want impell'd,
And
bent on Beatrice all its gaze.
But she as light'ning beam'd upon my
looks:
So that the sight sustain'd it not at first.
Whence I to question
her became less prompt.
CANTO IV
Between two kinds of food, both equally
Remote and tempting, first a
man might die
Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose.
E'en so
would stand a lamb between the maw

Of two fierce wolves, in dread
of both alike:
E'en so between two deer a dog would stand,


Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise
I to myself impute, by
equal doubts
Held in suspense, since of necessity
It happen'd. Silent
was I, yet desire
Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake
My
wish more earnestly than language could.
As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed
From ire, that spurr'd him
on to deeds unjust
And violent; so look'd Beatrice then.
"Well I discern," she thus her words address'd,
"How contrary desires
each way constrain thee,
So that thy anxious thought is in itself

Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth.
Thou arguest; if the
good intent remain;
What reason that another's violence
Should
stint the measure of my fair desert?
"Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems,
That spirits to the
stars, as Plato deem'd,
Return. These are the questions which thy will

Urge equally; and therefore I the first
Of that will treat which hath
the more of gall.
Of seraphim he who is most ensky'd,
Moses and
Samuel, and either John,
Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary's
self,
Have not in any other heav'n their seats,
Than have