(2) For there where earth and heaven obedient were, The woman only, and but just created, Could not endure to stay 'neath any veil; Underneath which had she devoutly stayed, I sooner should have tasted those delights Ineffable, and for a longer time. While 'mid such manifold first-fruits I walked Of the eternal pleasure all enrapt, And still solicitous of more delights, In front of us like an enkindled fire Became the air beneath the verdant boughs, And the sweet sound as singing now was heard. O Virgins sacrosanct! if ever hunger, Vigils, or cold for you I have endured, The occasion spurs me their reward to claim! Now Helicon must needs pour forth for me, And with her choir Urania must assist me, To put in verse things difficult to think. A little farther on, seven trees of gold In semblance the long space still intervening Between ourselves and them did counterfeit; But when I had approached so near to them The common object, which the sense deceives, Lost not by distance any of its marks,

(1) "Thou Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son, Humble and high beyond all other creature, The limit fixed of the eternal counsel, Thou art the one who such nobility To human nature gave, that its Creator Did not disdain to make himself its creature. Within thy womb rekindled was the love, By heat of which in the eternal peace After such wise this flower has germinated. Here unto us thou art a noonday torch Of charity, and below there among mortals Thou art the living fountain-head of hope. Lady, thou art so great, and so prevailing, That he who wishes grace, nor runs to thee, His aspirations without wings would fly. Not only thy benignity gives succour To him who asketh it, but oftentimes Forerunneth of its own accord the asking. In thee compassion is, in thee is pity, In thee magnificence; in thee unites Whate'er of goodness is in any creature. Now doth this man, who from the lowest depth Of the universe as far as here has seen One after one the spiritual lives,

(2) "Marvel thou not," she said to me, "because I smile at this thy puerile conceit, Since on the truth it trusts not yet its foot, But turns thee, as 'tis wont, on emptiness. True substances are these which thou beholdest, Here relegate for breaking of some vow. Therefore speak with them, listen and believe; For the true light, which giveth peace to them, Permits them not to turn from it their feet." And I unto the shade that seemed most wishful To speak directed me, and I began, As one whom too great eagerness bewilders: "O well-created spirit, who in the rays Of life eternal dost the sweetness taste Which being untasted ne'er is comprehended, Grateful 'twill be to me, if thou content me Both with thy name and with your destiny." Whereat she promptly and with laughing eyes: "Our charity doth never shut the doors Against a just desire, except as one Who wills that all her court be like herself. I was a virgin sister in the world; And if thy mind doth contemplate me well, The being more fair will not conceal me from thee,

(9) Accordingly one dreams, the soul assenting to the vision. But he dreams waking, who looks so as to lust; not only, as that Gnostic said, if along with the sight of the woman he imagine in his mind intercourse, for this is already the act of lust, as lust; but if one looks on beauty of person (the Word says), and the flesh seem to him in the way of lust to be fair, looking on cam ally and sinfully, he is judged because he admired. For, on the other hand, he who in chaste love looks on beauty, thinks not that the flesh is beautiful, but the spirit, admiring, as I judge, the body as an image, by whose beauty he transports himself to the Artist, and to the true beauty; exhibiting the sacred symbol, the bright impress of righteousness to the angels that wait on the ascension; I mean the unction of acceptance, the quality of disposition which resides in the soul that is gladdened by the communication of the Holy Spirit.

(3) For if thou should’st regard that supreme [point] of time when . . . the one nature doth pour forth the young into the other one, and when the other greedily absorbs [it] from the first, and hides it [ever] deeper [in itself]; then, at that time, out of their common congress, females attain the nature of the males, males weary grow with female listlessness. And so the consummation of this mystery, so sweet and requisite, is wrought in secret; lest, owing to the vulgar jests of ignorance, the deity of either sex should be compelled to blush at natural congress,—and much more still, if it should be subjected to the sight of impious folk. XXII

(5) And therefore she hung up her love and her longing desire in this cloud of unknowing, and learned her to love a thing the which she might not see clearly in this life, by light of understanding in her reason, nor yet verily feel in sweetness of love in her affection. Insomuch, that she had ofttimes little special remembrance, whether that ever she had been a sinner or none. Yea, and full ofttimes I hope that she was so deeply disposed to the love of His Godhead that she had but right little special beholding unto the beauty of His precious and His blessed body, in the which He sat full lovely speaking and preaching before her; nor yet to anything else, bodily or ghostly. That this be sooth, it seemeth by the gospel.

(131) Now here stands the beauteous bride: what shall I write of her now? was she not a Prince of God, as also the most beautiful, moreover, in God's love also, and as a dear son of the creatures? Of the horrible, proud, and henceforth doleful lamentable Beginning of Sin. The highest Depth. Observe here:

(74) She became not pregnant save after sexual pleasure, Can a garden bloom without the spring? Pregnant women and their teeming wombs So every tree which nurtures its fruits Has been, like Mary, impregnated by the Unseen King. Though fire's heat be hidden in the midst of water, Though the heat of the fire be working unseen, In like manner, the members of those enjoying "union" Become big with child, viz., with forms of "states" and "words." Gazing on the beauty of these forms they stand agape,

(4) Without, then, any merit of their deeds, Stationed are they in different gradations, Differing only in their first acuteness. 'Tis true that in the early centuries, With innocence, to work out their salvation Sufficient was the faith of parents only. After the earlier ages were completed, Behoved it that the males by circumcision Unto their innocent wings should virtue add; But after that the time of grace had come Without the baptism absolute of Christ, Such innocence below there was retained. Look now into the face that unto Christ Hath most resemblance; for its brightness only Is able to prepare thee to see Christ." On her did I behold so great a gladness Rain down, borne onward in the holy minds Created through that altitude to fly, That whatsoever I had seen before Did not suspend me in such admiration, Nor show me such similitude of God. And the same Love that first descended there, "Ave Maria, gratia plena," singing, In front of her his wings expanded wide.

(1) God's mercy is known through the fruits thereof, But who save God knows His essence? No one knows the very essence of God's attributes A child knows naught of the nature of sexual intercourse, Except what you tell him, that it is like sweetmeats. Yet how far does the pleasure of sexual intercourse Really resemble that derived from sweetmeats? Nevertheless the fiction produces a relation Between you, with your perfect knowledge, and the child; So that the child knows the matter by a similitude,

(22) Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not.

(16) ¶Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their

(56) Here now stood the kindled bride in the seventh nature-spirit, like a proud beast; now she supposed she was beyond or above God, nothing was like her now: Love grew cold, the Heart of God could not touch it, for there was a contrary will or opposition between them. The Heart of God moved very meekly and lovingly, and the heart of the angel moved very darkly, hard, cold and fiery.

(7) His aspect had bereft me of my sight, So that I turned me back unto my Teachers, Like one who goeth as his hearing guides him. And as, the harbinger of early dawn, The air of May doth move and breathe out fragrance, Impregnate all with herbage and with flowers, So did I feel a breeze strike in the midst My front, and felt the moving of the plumes That breathed around an odour of ambrosia; And heard it said: "Blessed are they whom grace So much illumines, that the love of taste Excites not in their breasts too great desire, Hungering at all times so far as is just."

(6) Her lap is a sacrificial altar; her hairs, the sacrificial grass; her skin, the soma-press. The two lips of the vulva are the fire in the middle. Verily, indeed, as great as is the world of him who sacrifices with the Vajapeya ('Strength- libation ') sacrifice,, so great is the world of him who practises sexual intercourse, knowing this; he turns the good deeds of \\ omen to himself. But he who practises sexual intercourse with- out knowing this — women turn his good deeds unto themselves.

(2) A king, whose empire stretched to the far horizons, had a daughter as beautiful as the moon. Before her loveliness even the fairies were abashed. Her dimpled chin resembled the well of Joseph, and the locks of her hair wounded a hundred hearts. Her eyebrows were twin bows, and when she loosed their arrows the space between sang her praise. Her eyes, languorous as the narcissus, threw thorns of her eyelashes in the path of the wise. Her face was as the sun when he took the moon's virginity. The Angel Gabriel could not tear his eyes from the pearls and rubies of her mouth. A smile of her

lips dried up the water of life in the beholder, who yet begged alms from these same lips. Whoever glanced at her chin fell headlong into a spring of bubbling water.

The king also had a slave, a youth, so handsome that the sun grew pale and the light of the moon diminished. When he walked in the streets and market-place crowds stopped to gaze at him.

By chance one day the princess saw this slave, and in a moment her heart slipped from her hand. Reason forsook her and love took possession. Her soul, sweet as Shirin, turned bitter. Withdrawing from her companions she mused, and musing and reflecting, began to burn. Then she called her ten young maids of honour. They were excellent musicians and played on the shawms and pipes; their voices wxre those of nightingales, and their singing, which tore the soul, was worthy of David. Gathering them around her she told them about her state, saying that she was ready to sacrifice her name, her honour, and her life for the love of this youth; for when one is deep in love one is good for nothing else. 'But,' she said, 'if I tell him of my love no doubt he will do something rash. If it becomes known that I have been intimate with a slave both he and I will suffer. On the other hand, if he does not possess me, I shall die lamenting behind the curtain of the harem. I have read a hundred books on patience and still I am without it. What can I do! I must find a way to enjoy the love of this slender cypress, so that the desire of my body shall accord with the longing of my soul - and this must be done without his knowing.'

Then the sweet-voiced maids said: 'Do not grieve. Tonight we will bring him here unknown to anyone, and even he will know nothing about it.'

Soon, one of the young girls went in secret to the slave and asked him, as if to play with him, to bring two cups of wine. Into one cup she threw a drug, contriving that he should drink it. He at once fell asleep, so that she was able

to carry out her plan, and the youth of the silver breast remained without news of the two worlds.

When night came the maids of honour went softly to where he lay and put him on a litter and carried him to the princess. Then they sat him on a golden throne and placed a coronet of pearls on his head. At midnight, still a little drugged, he opened his eyes and saw a palace as fair as paradise, and around him were golden seats. The place was lighted by ten great candles perfumed with amber, and sweet aloe wood burned in pans. The maidens began to sing, but in such sweet strains that reason bade farewell to the spirit, and the soul to the body. Then the sun of wine went round to the light of the candles. Bewildered with the joy of his surroundings and dazzled by the beauty of the princess, the youth lost his wits. He was no longer really in this world nor was he in the other. With a heart full of love, and a body possessed with desire, amid these delights he fell into a state of ecstasy. His eyes were fastened on her beauty and his ears to the sound of the reed pipes. His nostrils took in the perfume of amber and the wine in his mouth became like liquid fire. The princess kissed him, and he shed tears of joy while she mingled hers with his. Sometimes she pressed sweet kisses on his mouth, sometimes they were tinged with salt; sometimes she ruffled his long hair, sometimes she lost herself in his eyes. He possessed her; and so they passed the time until the dawn appeared in the East. When morning Zephyr breathed the young slave became sad; but they sent him to sleep again and took him back to his quarters.

When he of the silver breast came to himself, without knowing why, he began to weep. One might say the thing was finished, so what was the good of crying out. He tore his clothes, pulled his hair and put earth on his head. Those about him asked why he was doing this, and what had happened. He said: Ht is impossible to describe what I have

I

seen, no one else can ever see it except in a dream, for what has happened to me can never have happened to anyone before. Never was there a more astonishing mystery.'

Another said: 'Wake up, and tell us at least one of the hundred things that happened.' He replied: 'lam in a tumult because what I have seen has happened to me in another body. While hearing nothing I have heard everything, while seeing nothing I have seen everything.'

Another said: 'Have you lost your wits or have you just been dreaming?' 'Ah,' he said, 'I don't know if I was drunk or sober. What can be more puzzling than something which is neither revealed nor hidden. What I have seen I can never forget, yet I have no idea where it happened. For one whole night I revelled with a beauty who is without equal. Who and what she is I do not know. Only love remains, and that is all. But God knows the truth.'

(4) As far as respects human nature, the woman does not possess one nature, and the man exhibit another, but the same: so also with virtue. If, consequently, a self-restraint and righteousness, and whatever qualities are regarded as following them, is the virtue of the male, it belongs to the male alone to be virtuous, and to the woman to be licentious and unjust. But it is offensive even to say this. Accordingly woman is to practise self-restraint and righteousness, and every other virtue, as well as man, both bond and free; since it is a fit consequence that the same nature possesses one and the same virtue. We do not say that woman's nature is the same as man's, as she is woman. For undoubtedly it stands to reason that some difference should exist between each of them, in virtue of which one is male and the other female. Pregnancy and parturition, accordingly, we say belong to woman, as she is woman, and not as she is a human being. But if there were no difference between man and woman, both would do and suffer the same things. As then there is sameness, as far as respects the soul, she will attain to the same virtue; but as there is difference as respects the peculiar construction of the body, she is destined for child-bearing and housekeeping. "For I would have you know," says the apostle, "that the head of every man is Christ; and the head of the woman is the man: for the man is not of the woman, but the woman of the man. I For neither is the woman without the man, nor the man without the woman, in the Lord." For as we say that the man ought to be conti-nent, and superior to pleasures; so also we reckon that the woman should be continent and practised in fighting against pleasures. "But I say, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lusts of the flesh," counsels the apostolic command; "for the flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh. These, then, are contrary" (not as good to evil, but as fighting advantageously), he adds therefore, so that ye cannot do the things that ye would. Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are, fornication uncleanness, profligacy, idolatry, witchcrafts, enmities, strifes, jealousies, wrath, contentions, dissensions, heresies, envyings, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; of which I tell you before, as I have also said before, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, temperance, goodness, faith, meekness." He calls sinners, as I think, "flesh," and the righteous "spirit." Further, manliness is to be assumed in order to produce confidence and forbearance, so as "to him that strikes on the one cheek, to give to him the other; and to him that takes away the cloak, to yield to him the coat also," strongly, restraining anger. For we do not train our women like Amazons to manliness in war; since we wish the men even to be peaceable. I hear that the Sarmatian women practise war no less than the men; and the women of the Sacae besides, who shoot backwards, feigning flight as well as the men. I am aware, too, that the women near Iberia practise manly work and toil, not refraining from their tasks even though near their delivery; but even in the very struggle of her pains, the woman, on being delivered, taking up the infant, carries it home. Further, the females no less than the males manage the house, and hunt, and keep the flocks: "Cressa the hound ran keenly in the stag's track."

(3) I was as one who still retains the feeling Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours In vain to bring it back into his mind, When I this invitation heard, deserving Of so much gratitude, it never fades Out of the book that chronicles the past. If at this moment sounded all the tongues That Polyhymnia and her sisters made Most lubrical with their delicious milk, To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth It would not reach, singing the holy smile And how the holy aspect it illumed. And therefore, representing Paradise, The sacred poem must perforce leap over, Even as a man who finds his way cut off; But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme, And of the mortal shoulder laden with it, Should blame it not, if under this it tremble. It is no passage for a little boat This which goes cleaving the audacious prow, Nor for a pilot who would spare himself. "Why doth my face so much enamour thee, That to the garden fair thou turnest not, Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming?

(1) SWEET was that love betwixt our Lord and Mary. Much love had she to Him. Much more had He to her. For whoso would utterly behold all the behaviour that was betwixt Him and her, not as a trifler may tell, but as the story of the gospel will witness—the which on nowise may be false—he should find that she was so heartily set for to love Him, that nothing beneath Him might comfort her, nor yet hold her heart from Him. This is she, that same Mary, that when she sought Him at the sepulchre with weeping cheer would not be comforted of angels. For when they spake unto her so sweetly and so lovely and said, “Weep not, Mary; for why, our Lord whom thou seekest is risen, and thou shalt have Him, and see Him live full fair amongst His disciples in Galilee as He hight,” she would not cease for them. For why? Her thought that whoso sought verily the King of Angels, them list not cease for angels.

(5) "A perfect life and merit high in-heaven A lady o'er us," said she, "by whose rule Down in your world they vest and veil themselves, That until death they may both watch and sleep Beside that Spouse who every vow accepts Which charity conformeth to his pleasure. To follow her, in girlhood from the world I fled, and in her habit shut myself, And pledged me to the pathway of her sect. Then men accustomed unto evil more Than unto good, from the sweet cloister tore me; God knows what afterward my life became. This other splendour, which to thee reveals Itself on my right side, and is enkindled With all the illumination of our sphere, What of myself I say applies to her; A nun was she, and likewise from her head Was ta'en the shadow of the sacred wimple. But when she too was to the world returned Against her wishes and against good usage, Of the heart's veil she never was divested.