Paradiso: Canto XXI
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Already on my Lady's face mine eyes
Again were
fastened, and with these my mind,
And from all other purpose was withdrawn;
And she smiled not; but "If I were to
smile,"
She unto me began, "thou wouldst
become
Like Semele, when she was turned to ashes.
Because my
beauty, that along the
stairs
Of the
eternal palace more
enkindles,
As thou hast seen, the farther we ascend,
If it were
tempered not, is so
resplendent
That all thy mortal power in its
effulgence
Would seem a leaflet that the
thunder crushes.
We are
uplifted to the seventh
splendour,
That underneath the
burning Lion's
breast
Now radiates downward mingled with his power.
Fix in
direction of thine eyes the mind,
And make of
them a
mirror for the figure
That in this mirror shall appear to thee."
He who could know what was the
pasturage
My sight had in that blessed
countenance,
When I
transferred me to another care,
Would
recognize how grateful was to me
Obedience unto my
celestial escort,
By
counterpoising one side with the other.
Within
the crystal which, around the world
Revolving, bears the name of its dear leader,
Under whom every wickedness lay dead,
Coloured like
gold, on which the sunshine gleams,
A
stairway I beheld to such a
height
Uplifted, that mine eye
pursued it not.
Likewise beheld I down the steps
descending
So many
splendours, that I thought
each light
That in the heaven appears was there
diffused.
And as
accordant with their natural custom
The rooks
together at the break of day
Bestir
themselves to warm their
feathers cold;
Then some of them fly off without return,
Others come back to where they
started from,
And others, wheeling round, still keep at home;
Such fashion it
appeared to me was there
Within the
sparkling that together came,
As soon as on a certain step it
struck,
And that which nearest unto us
remained
Became so clear, that in my thought I said,
"Well I perceive the love thou
showest me;
But she, from whom I wait the how and when
Of speech and silence, standeth still;
whence I
Against desire do well if I ask not."
She thereupon, who saw my
silentness
In the sight of Him who seeth
everything,
Said unto me, "Let loose thy warm
desire."
And I began: "No merit of my own
Renders me worthy of
response from thee;
But for her sake who
granteth me the asking,
Thou
blessed life that dost remain
concealed
In thy beatitude, make known to me
The cause which
draweth thee so near my side;
And tell me why is silent in this wheel
The
dulcet symphony of
Paradise,
That through
the rest below sounds so
devoutly."
"Thou hast thy hearing mortal as thy sight,"
It answer made to me; "they sing not here,
For the same cause that
Beatrice has not smiled.
Thus far adown the holy
stairway's steps
Have I descended but to give thee
welcome
With
words, and with the light that mantles me;
Nor did more love cause me to be more ready,
For love as much and more
up there is
burning,
As doth the
flaming manifest to thee.
But the high charity, that makes us servants
Prompt to the
counsel which controls the world,
Allotteth here, even as thou dost observe."
"I see full well," said I, "
O sacred lamp!
How love unfettered in this court
sufficeth
To follow the
eternal Providence;
But this is what seems hard for me to see,
Wherefore
predestinate wast thou alone
Unto this office from among thy
consorts."
No sooner had I come to the last word,
Than of its
middle made the light a
centre,
Whirling itself about like a swift
millstone.
When answer made the love that was therein:
"On me
directed is a light divine,
Piercing through this in which I am
embosomed,
Of which the virtue with my sight conjoined
Lifts me above myself so far, I see
The supreme essence from which this is drawn.
Hence comes the
joyfulness with which I flame,
For to my sight, as far as it is clear,
The clearness of the flame I equal make.
But that soul in the heaven which is most pure,
That
seraph which his eye on
God most fixes,
Could this demand of thine not satisfy;
Because so deeply sinks in the
abyss
Of the eternal statute what thou
askest,
From all
created sight it is
cut off.
And to the mortal world, when thou returnest,
This carry back, that it may not presume
Longer tow'rd such a goal to move its feet.
The mind, that
shineth here, on earth doth smoke;
From this observe how can it do below
That which it cannot though the heaven assume it?"
Such limit did its words prescribe to me,
The question I
relinquished, and
restricted
Myself to ask it humbly who it was.
"Between two
shores of
Italy rise cliffs,
And not far distant from thy native place,
So high, the thunders far below them sound,
And form a ridge that
Catria is called,
'Neath which is
consecrate a
hermitage
Wont to be dedicate to
worship only."
Thus unto me the third speech recommenced,
And then, continuing, it said: "
Therein
Unto
God's service I became so
steadfast,
That feeding only on the juice of olives
Lightly I passed away the
heats and
frosts,
Contented in my thoughts
contemplative.
That cloister used to render to these
heavens
Abundantly, and now is empty grown,
So that perforce it soon must be
revealed.
I in that place was
Peter Damiano;
And
Peter the Sinner was I in the house
Of
Our Lady on the
Adriatic shore.
Little of mortal life
remained to me,
When I was called and
dragged forth to the hat
Which shifteth evermore
from bad to worse.
Came
Cephas, and the mighty
Vessel came
Of the
Holy Spirit,
meagre and barefooted,
Taking the food of any
hostelry.
Now some one to support them on each side
The
modern shepherds need, and some to lead them,
So heavy are they, and to hold their trains.
They cover up their
palfreys with their cloaks,
So that two beasts go
underneath one skin;
O
Patience, that dost tolerate so much!"
At this voice saw I many little
flames
From step to step
descending and revolving,
And every
revolution made them fairer.
Round about this one came they and stood still,
And a cry
uttered of so loud a
sound,
It here could find no parallel, nor I
Distinguished it, the
thunder so o'ercame me.
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