Classic Poem

CANTO XIX.

Argument.

An eagle formed of many shining spirits discourses with Dante concerning the justice of God's judgments, and reproves the guilt of divers sovereigns of Christendom.

B EFORE me then appear'd, with wings outspread,
The lovely image which such deep delight
In sweet fruition o'er the spirits shed
Thus garlanded. Each seem'd a ruby bright,
Wherein the sunbeam burn'd so full and clear,
My visual orbs reflected it aright.
And that which from my lips ye now shall hear
No pen hath traced, no voice did ever speak,
Nor e'en to Fancy's dreams might it appear.
For now I heard from out the eagle's beak
A voice whose sound was ever I and mine ,
While in the meaning we and us ye seek
Thus it began: " Unto this height divine,
Which no desire may conquer, am I now
Exalted by my righteousness benign.
Erst did I leave my memory below
In such a wise that e'en the bad give praise
Thereto, but in my footsteps do not go. "
As ye, when many torches fiercely blaze,
Feel but one heat, one sound alone did come
Of many loves from out that form's bright rays.
Thus I replied: " O flowers that ever bloom
In joy eternal, which do shed around
All your fresh odours in one sweet perfume,
Now, breathing, solve the eager wishes found
In me, whence long in hunger do I pine,
For which there is no food in earthly bound.
Well I perceive that if the light divine
Of justice is in other realms of heaven
Reflected, yet unveil'd it aye doth shine
In yours. Ye know that wholly I am given
To hear your words intently; and ye know
The doubt with which so long my soul hath striven. "
When from a falcon ye its hood do throw,
Joyous it beats its wings, its head doth raise,
And eager zeal doth in proud beauty show;
Thus did this image, tissued of the praise
Of Grace Divine, and sang as spirits blest
Alone may know, who dwell in heavenly rays;
Then answer'd: " He who doth his compass rest
On the world's verge, and thus in righteousness
Hath order'd all things, hid and manifest,
Could not his wondrous virtue so impress
On all the universe, that still his thought
Should not remain in infinite excess.
And this with greater certainty is fraught,
Since the first Proud One, on the loftiest height
Of all created beings, yet was brought
To sad untimely fall, because for light
He waited not; and thus we plainly see
Each minor nature all too weak, aright
To grasp the good which lasts eternally,
And measures self with self. Our vision, lit
With somewhat of the rays of God which be
Shed over all things, still can ne'er be fit
Its early source so clearly to discern,
That this should seem no other than it yet
Most truly is. In Justice sempitern,
The gift of light which is on earth your share
Enters, as eyes which the deep sea would learn.
Though from the strand your gaze ye well may bear
Unto the wat'ry floor, it is unseen
In the wide ocean: nathless it is there;
But hid by the great depth. Save the serene
Radiance which ne'er is dimm'd, there is no light;
But cloud, and venom'd fleshly shade, I ween.
Now is the veil uplifted in thy sight,
Which closely erst the living Justice wore,
And hath so oft perplex'd thy mortal might.
Wherefore thou saidst: " A man upon the shore
Of Indus may be born; where there is none
Who speaks, or reads, or writes, of Christian lore
And all his thoughts and all his acts are done
So that, as far as human reason seeth,
Sinless in word and deed his days have run:
Yet unbaptized he dies, and without faith.
Where is the justice which condemns this man?
If he believes not, where the guilt of death?"
But who art thou, who fain wouldst sit and scan,
E'en from afar, a thousand miles and more,
When yet thy vision reaches not a span?
Truly, to him who cons this subtle lore,
If here ye had not Scripture for a guide,
Of doubts there would be, sooth, an ample store.
O earthly animals, minds gross with pride!
The Primal Will, which in itself is good,
From its own purity ne'er turns aside.
So much is just, as with that Will hath stood
In consonance: and no created thing
Attracts it; but its radiance hath imbued
All beings. " As the stork upon the wing
Flutters above her nest, when she hath brought
Food to her young, whose eyes, still following
The mother, gaze again; even thus I sought
The heavenly image, who, meseem'd, did fly
On pinions moved by many-minded thought.
And, circling round, it sang; and this its cry:
" As are my notes to thee, who dost but hear,
Uncomprehending, so to mortal eye
Are the eternal judgments. " Then those clear
Flames, by the Holy Spirit lit, remain
Stay'd in the sign by which all Earth did fear
The Roman name; and said: " Unto this reign
None ever rose, who yet believed not Christ,
Before or since He on the Cross was slain.
But, sooth, 'tis true that many call on Christ,
Who shall be less, at the last Judgment Day,
To him, than some who ne'er have heard of Christ.
The Ethiop on such Christians guilt shall lay,
When the two bands, apart, receive their meed;
One in eternal joy, one lost for aye.
What can the Persians say, in very deed,
Unto your kings, when they the open book
See, where their every evil act they read?
There, 'mong the works of Albert ye may look
For that which soon the pen shall write, whereby
Prague shall be lone, as one whom all forsook;
And, there, the grief that on the Seine doth lie,
Caused by the money falsified by one
Who in the chase of a wild boar shall die;
And, there, the pride whence thirsteth every son
Of England and of Scotland for the strife,
Till in his proper bounds remaineth none;
The Spaniard with soft luxury so rife,
And him who wears Bohemia's diadem,
Who never knew nor loved a virtuous life;
And there the Cripple of Jerusalem
His every virtue with an I hath sign'd,
While his ill deeds are written with an M.
There ye the avarice and guilt shall find
Of him who keepeth still the Isle of Fire,
Where erst Anchises his long life resign'd.
To show what vileness doth in him respire,
His deeds are writ in letters curt, which note
Much in small space. The brother of his sire,
And his own brother, shall show actions fraught
With filthiness; whence bitter scorn shall fall
Upon two crowns, to foul dishonour brought,
And on a noble race. Of Portugal
And Norway shall the sovereigns' guilt be seen;
And his who in Ragusa ruled, and all
So evilly Venetian coin, I ween,
Adjusted. Thou, O Hungary, wert blest,
If now no more misgovern'd thou hadst been:
And thou, Navarre, in quietness mightst rest,
If thou wouldst arm thee with thy mountain shield.
But be ye with this certain truth imprest,
That, earnest of what soon shall be fulfill'd,
Now Famagosta and Nicosia weep
Sore for the beast that doth their sceptre wield,
And near its fellows' side doth closely ever keep. "