Classic Poem

CANTO IV.

Argument.

Plato's doctrine of the Stars. — The different degrees of bliss in Heaven. — Absolute and relative Will.

B ETWEEN two kinds of food, equal in taste,
And equidistant, man might die, ere yet
He stretchid out his hand to be possest
Of either: and thus stands a lamb, when set
Between two hungry wolves, on either hand;
And thus a dog between two deer doth wait.
My silence here I do not reprehend,
Suspended in this manner by my doubt,
Since it was needful; nor do I commend.
Silent I stood: but my desire shone out,
Traced on my brow; and thus more eagerly
Than if by spoken words, I knowledge sought.
Then Beatrice, as Daniel once, when he
Erst of the Eastern Monarch soothed the ire
Which wholly caused his deeds unjust to be,
Thus framed her speech: " I see how thy desire
Draws thee diversely; and the wish thou hast
Doth bind itself, and forth may not respire.
Thou reason'st: " If a righteous will doth last,
Why should another's violence 'minish aught
Of this my merit?" Also thou art cast,
I wis, into perplexity and doubt,
Deeming the soul returns unto the stars,
According to the lore that Plato taught.
This is the question which within thee wars,
Twofold, of equal weight: and therefore first
I treat of that which most thy reason mars.
Moses, and Samuel, and he who erst
The Saviour's advent unto Man foreshow'd,
And he who the Apocalypse rehearsed,
And seraph nearest to the throne of God,
And Mary's self, have in no other heaven,
Than these same Shades thou seist, their abode,
Nor more nor fewer years to them are given:
But all the primal zone do beautify,
And live sweet lives in divers manners, even
As fillid with God's breath. Not here doth lie
Their lot; but yet thou seest them in this sphere,
To show the rank they ever hold on high.
Such arguments thine intellect must hear,
Since aye by sense alone it apprehends
The things which, after, to thy mind appear.
And for this cause the Scripture condescends
Unto your faculties, with hid intent,
And unto God attributes feet and hands.
And Holy Church hath human aspect lent
To Gabriel and Michael, and to him
Once for the healing of blind Tobit sent.
That which Timaeus of the souls doth deem
Is all unlike what here thou dost discern,
Since he believes the thing which doth but seem.
He saith, the soul doth to its star return,
Believing that from thence it hath come down,
When it on earth in human limbs is born.
And these his words, perchance, may well be shown
Of other guise than to the ear they sound,
And meriting not ridicule alone.
If he would say that to the starry bound
Returns the blame of ill, and praise of good,
Striking the truth his dart may well be found.
For, this same principle, misunderstood,
Nigh all the earth deceived; and thus as Jove
And Mercury and Mars their names have stood.
The other doubt which here thy mind doth prove,
Less poison hath; since in its evil lies
A lesser power thee from my side to move.
That this our justice unto mortal eyes
Should seem unjust, is yet an argument
Of faith, and not of noxious heresies.
But, that the truth I show thee be attain'd
By thee, and clearly to thy mind appear,
Even as thou wouldst, thy wish do I content.
If violence be when the sufferer
In nothing doth unto the force agree,
Herein these spirits no excuse do bear:
For Will, although it wills not, cannot be
Wholly extinguish'd; but is like the flame
A thousand times bent downward forcibly.
And swerving much or little, in this blame,
Will follows force; and thus did these, who could
Return unto the cloister whence they came.
Because, if here the will had firmly stood
Which made St. Lawrence fiery torment bear,
And Mutius stern to his own hand, they would
Have turn'd again to climb the holy stair,
When from the hands of violence set free:
But, sooth, such steadfast will is all too rare.
And by these words if gather'd up they be
With due regard, the fancy is disproved
Which else had often caused annoy to thee.
But now again thy mind to doubt is moved,
Of which thyself thou never canst divest,
Though wearily thou wouldst it were removed.
I have with certitude to thee exprest
That spirits of the blessid cannot lie,
Since near to primal truth they ever rest.
Yet from Piccarda thou mayst hear that aye,
In heart, did Constance love the holy veil,
And thus her words to mine seem contrary.
But oft, my brother, where weak mortals dwell,
To fly from peril, 'gainst their better thought,
The thing is done which left undone were well
Even as Alcmaeon, by his sire besought,
Slew his own mother; and the fear to lose
Just piety, to impious deeds him brought.
And here I would into thy mind infuse
The precept that when force is mix'd with will,
Thereby offences may not find excuse.
Not wholly doth the mind consent, but still
Consents so much as wherein it doth fear,
Resisting, it may suffer greater ill.
Therefore, when thus Piccarda thou didst hear,
She spake of simple Will, whereas I show
The other: a like truth our words do bear. "
Such was the holy river's silver flow,
That issues from the fountain of all truth,
It laid to rest each doubt my heart did know.
" Thou who God's love hast loved from thy first youth, "
I said, " divinest Lady, whose sweet speech
My soul doth inundate with light, in sooth
The faculties within me may not reach
So deep as to return thee grace for grace;
But He who sees, and can, such lore may teach.
Our intellect, as plainly now I trace,
Can ne'er be satisfied till it attain
The Truth beyond which nothing true hath place.
It rests like a wild creature in its den,
There, when 'tis gain'd: and it may gain it well;
Else each desire were frustrate and in vain.
Like offshoots from a tree, doubt aye doth dwell,
Born at the feet of truth: 'tis Nature's lure,
Which ever upward draws us to excel.
And this invites me, this makes me secure,
Lady, most rev'rently to seek from thee
Another truth which is to me obscure.
Fain would I know if broken vows may be
Made good with gifts, of power to satisfy
Your balance with just weight. " I spake; and she
Gazed on me with a look, wherein did lie
Such glowing love, and radiance so divine,
It wholly vanquishid my strength: thus I
Turn'd back, and, wilder'd, did mine eyes to earth incline.