CANTO XIII.
Argument.
Two starry garlands of blessed spirits. — St. Thomas Aquinas solves some of Dante's doubts.
L ET him who well would understand my tale
Imagine, and the image still retain
(The while I speak) as rock that doth not fail,
Ten stars and five, which in the heavenly plain
From divers shores shine forth with light serene,
O'ercoming each dim cloud; let him the Wain
Imagine, which in all its course is seen
Ever within our sky, both night and morn,
Nor e'en in turning hides its radiant sheen;
Imagine then the mouth of the bright horn
That from the axle's central point doth rise,
Round which the primal sphere is onward borne:
And form therewith two signs within the skies,
Most like the garland Minos' daughter wore,
What time the frost of death had seal'd her eyes.
Let one within the other have its store
Of rays; and both a whirling motion learn,
Which swifter one, and one more slowly bore:
Thus he some faintest shadow may discern
Of that true constellation's twofold dance,
Which round the spot where now I stood did turn.
Because so much its glory doth advance
Beyond our mortal thought, as Chiana's flow
Is duller than the sky of swiftest glance.
Not Io Bacche, Io Paean, now,
They sang; but to the Three in one divine
Nature, and Him who upon earth did show,
United, God and Man. The measured line
Of song and rhythmic circle now complete,
Those fires wherein a holy light did shine
Drew near, still glad in alternation sweet
Of work with work. And then the flame which spake
The wondrous tale of him who with bare feet
Went forth, the mendicant of God, thus brake
The silence: " Since well-trodden is the grain,
A fresher store love bringeth, for thy sake.
Thou deem'st that in the breast from whence was ta'en
The rib which form'd the beauteous face she wore
Whose palate caused the world such direful pain,
And in that other, which, deep-wounded sore
By the sharp spear, such ample ransom paid
For all our sin, both after and before,
The fullest measure e'er on mortal shed
Of light was given by the Great Power Divine,
Which wholly erst their being fashionid:
Thus dost thou marvel at those words of mine,
There where I said no second soul might wear
Such wisdom as in yon fifth light doth shine.
Ope thou thine eyes to that which I declare;
And here my speech and thy belief descry
Placed in the truth, as centre in the sphere.
For all that dies, and all that cannot die,
Is but a splendour of the idea erst
Brought forth by God in His great charity:
Because the living Radiance that doth burst
From out its source in such a wise that none
May part it thence, nor from the Love which first
Existed, triune with the Sire and Son,
Its rays collects as in a mirror bright,
And through Eternity remaineth One,
Though in nine Substances shines forth its light:
And then from grade to grade doth downward go,
Till but contingent beings brief its might
Calls forth, at last. And these, thou shouldest know,
Are all things generated, which from seed,
Or without seed, do ever spring and grow,
Shaped by the rolling skies. In very deed,
That wax is all unlike the hand of him
Who fashions it; and therefore do ye read,
Or more or less, the impress faint and dim.
Thus chances it the self-same kind of tree
Bears fruit, now good, now evil; and ye come
Unto your mortal life with minds that be
Most diverse. If thine earthly wax did blend
All perfect with the skies supreme, thou'dst see
The impress of the seal most plainly stand:
But Nature works her work more faintly still,
Like skilful artist with a trembling hand.
Yet if therein doth glowing love instil
The primal virtue where clear light hath smiled,
Perfection then it truly doth fulfil.
Thus Earth by God's own influences mild
Brought forth a perfect human form, of yore;
And thus the Maiden Mother was with child.
Therefore herein do I confirm thy lore;
For never, sooth, hath human nature been
As in these twain, nor shall, for evermore
Now if my words no further went, I ween,
" How was this man so peerless?" thou wouldst say;
But that by thee the truth may well be seen
Which erst was hidden from thy visual ray,
Think who he was, and why such gifts he sought,
When bid, for what he most desired, to pray.
I have not spoken so dimly but thy thought
Might know he was the king who would be wise,
Thus a sufficient king. He askid not
The skill to count the spirits of the skies;
Or if from certain truth, join'd to a thing
Which is but probable, there may arise
A certainty; nor if there be a spring
Of primal motion; nor if e'er ye may
From the half-circle a triangle bring,
Without right angle. Note thou what I say;
And regal prudence then shall well appear,
For that whereof I speak. Thy mental ray
Direct unto the word Attain , and there
Know my discourse did but to sovereigns reach;
For they are many, and the good are rare.
With this distinction take thou then my speech;
Which thus may hold with what thou dost believe
Of our first Sire, and of our Peace. And teach
Thy feet to move as lead their pace did grieve;
And, like a weary man, with motion slow
Gain that whereto uncertainty doth cleave.
Because he 'mong the fools is placed most low,
Who without thought affirmeth or denies,
Whatever be the aim his speech doth show.
For the opinion that too quickly flies
Oft bendeth, turn'd aside to some false part,
And then self-love our better judgment ties.
Worse than in vain from shore he doth depart,
Because in sadder plight he must return,
Who angles for the truth and hath not art.
That ye on earth a proof of this may learn,
Melissus, Bryso, and Parmenides
Have err'd, unknowing whither they were borne.
Thus did Sabellius, Arius, and these,
The foolish who corrupt the scriptures pure,
And twist the straight to strange perversities.
Nor be ye in your judgments too secure,
Even as the man who all too hastily goes
To count the corn-blades ere they be mature.
For I have seen, throughout the wintry snows,
The thorn uplift its branches bare and waste,
And, after, bloom with blossoms of the rose!
And I have seen the ship that, straight and fast,
Hath plough'd the ocean in its order'd line,
Sink at the entrance of the port, at last.
Nor think Dame Bess and Master Martin's eyne,
Seeing one steal, another alms bestow,
May look within God's counsel-depths divine;
Because this man may rise, and that may fall most low. "
Argument.
Two starry garlands of blessed spirits. — St. Thomas Aquinas solves some of Dante's doubts.
L ET him who well would understand my tale
Imagine, and the image still retain
(The while I speak) as rock that doth not fail,
Ten stars and five, which in the heavenly plain
From divers shores shine forth with light serene,
O'ercoming each dim cloud; let him the Wain
Imagine, which in all its course is seen
Ever within our sky, both night and morn,
Nor e'en in turning hides its radiant sheen;
Imagine then the mouth of the bright horn
That from the axle's central point doth rise,
Round which the primal sphere is onward borne:
And form therewith two signs within the skies,
Most like the garland Minos' daughter wore,
What time the frost of death had seal'd her eyes.
Let one within the other have its store
Of rays; and both a whirling motion learn,
Which swifter one, and one more slowly bore:
Thus he some faintest shadow may discern
Of that true constellation's twofold dance,
Which round the spot where now I stood did turn.
Because so much its glory doth advance
Beyond our mortal thought, as Chiana's flow
Is duller than the sky of swiftest glance.
Not Io Bacche, Io Paean, now,
They sang; but to the Three in one divine
Nature, and Him who upon earth did show,
United, God and Man. The measured line
Of song and rhythmic circle now complete,
Those fires wherein a holy light did shine
Drew near, still glad in alternation sweet
Of work with work. And then the flame which spake
The wondrous tale of him who with bare feet
Went forth, the mendicant of God, thus brake
The silence: " Since well-trodden is the grain,
A fresher store love bringeth, for thy sake.
Thou deem'st that in the breast from whence was ta'en
The rib which form'd the beauteous face she wore
Whose palate caused the world such direful pain,
And in that other, which, deep-wounded sore
By the sharp spear, such ample ransom paid
For all our sin, both after and before,
The fullest measure e'er on mortal shed
Of light was given by the Great Power Divine,
Which wholly erst their being fashionid:
Thus dost thou marvel at those words of mine,
There where I said no second soul might wear
Such wisdom as in yon fifth light doth shine.
Ope thou thine eyes to that which I declare;
And here my speech and thy belief descry
Placed in the truth, as centre in the sphere.
For all that dies, and all that cannot die,
Is but a splendour of the idea erst
Brought forth by God in His great charity:
Because the living Radiance that doth burst
From out its source in such a wise that none
May part it thence, nor from the Love which first
Existed, triune with the Sire and Son,
Its rays collects as in a mirror bright,
And through Eternity remaineth One,
Though in nine Substances shines forth its light:
And then from grade to grade doth downward go,
Till but contingent beings brief its might
Calls forth, at last. And these, thou shouldest know,
Are all things generated, which from seed,
Or without seed, do ever spring and grow,
Shaped by the rolling skies. In very deed,
That wax is all unlike the hand of him
Who fashions it; and therefore do ye read,
Or more or less, the impress faint and dim.
Thus chances it the self-same kind of tree
Bears fruit, now good, now evil; and ye come
Unto your mortal life with minds that be
Most diverse. If thine earthly wax did blend
All perfect with the skies supreme, thou'dst see
The impress of the seal most plainly stand:
But Nature works her work more faintly still,
Like skilful artist with a trembling hand.
Yet if therein doth glowing love instil
The primal virtue where clear light hath smiled,
Perfection then it truly doth fulfil.
Thus Earth by God's own influences mild
Brought forth a perfect human form, of yore;
And thus the Maiden Mother was with child.
Therefore herein do I confirm thy lore;
For never, sooth, hath human nature been
As in these twain, nor shall, for evermore
Now if my words no further went, I ween,
" How was this man so peerless?" thou wouldst say;
But that by thee the truth may well be seen
Which erst was hidden from thy visual ray,
Think who he was, and why such gifts he sought,
When bid, for what he most desired, to pray.
I have not spoken so dimly but thy thought
Might know he was the king who would be wise,
Thus a sufficient king. He askid not
The skill to count the spirits of the skies;
Or if from certain truth, join'd to a thing
Which is but probable, there may arise
A certainty; nor if there be a spring
Of primal motion; nor if e'er ye may
From the half-circle a triangle bring,
Without right angle. Note thou what I say;
And regal prudence then shall well appear,
For that whereof I speak. Thy mental ray
Direct unto the word Attain , and there
Know my discourse did but to sovereigns reach;
For they are many, and the good are rare.
With this distinction take thou then my speech;
Which thus may hold with what thou dost believe
Of our first Sire, and of our Peace. And teach
Thy feet to move as lead their pace did grieve;
And, like a weary man, with motion slow
Gain that whereto uncertainty doth cleave.
Because he 'mong the fools is placed most low,
Who without thought affirmeth or denies,
Whatever be the aim his speech doth show.
For the opinion that too quickly flies
Oft bendeth, turn'd aside to some false part,
And then self-love our better judgment ties.
Worse than in vain from shore he doth depart,
Because in sadder plight he must return,
Who angles for the truth and hath not art.
That ye on earth a proof of this may learn,
Melissus, Bryso, and Parmenides
Have err'd, unknowing whither they were borne.
Thus did Sabellius, Arius, and these,
The foolish who corrupt the scriptures pure,
And twist the straight to strange perversities.
Nor be ye in your judgments too secure,
Even as the man who all too hastily goes
To count the corn-blades ere they be mature.
For I have seen, throughout the wintry snows,
The thorn uplift its branches bare and waste,
And, after, bloom with blossoms of the rose!
And I have seen the ship that, straight and fast,
Hath plough'd the ocean in its order'd line,
Sink at the entrance of the port, at last.
Nor think Dame Bess and Master Martin's eyne,
Seeing one steal, another alms bestow,
May look within God's counsel-depths divine;
Because this man may rise, and that may fall most low. "