(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,

(12) But the reasoning faculty, being peculiar to the human soul, ought not to be impelled similarly with the irrational animals, but ought to discriminate appearances, and not to be carried away by them. The powers, then, of which we have spoken hold out beautiful sights, and honours, and adulteries, and pleasures, and such like alluring phantasies before facile spirits; as those who drive away cattle hold, out branches to them. Then, having beguiled those incapable of distinguishing the true from the false pleasure, and the fading and meretricious from the holy beauty, they lead them into slavery. And each deceit, by pressing constantly on the spirit, impresses its image on it; and the soul unwittingly carries about the image of the passion, which takes its rise from the bait and our consent.

(1) In this tale there is a warning for thee, O Soul, That thou mayest acquiesce in God's ordinances, And be wary and not doubt God's benevolence, Let others grow pale from fear of ill fortune, Do thou smile like the rose at loss and gain; For the rose, though its petals be torn asunder, Still smiles on, and it is never cast down. It says, "Why should I fall into grief in disgrace? I gather beauty even from the thorn of disgrace."

(4) When I shall be in presence of my Lord, Full often will I praise thee unto him.' Then paused she, and thereafter I began: 'O Lady of virtue, thou alone through whom The human race exceedeth all contained Within the heaven that has the lesser circles, So grateful unto me is thy commandment, To obey, if 'twere already done, were late; No farther need'st thou ope to me thy wish. But the cause tell me why thou dost not shun The here descending down into this centre, From the vast place thou burnest to return to.' 'Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern, Briefly will I relate,' she answered me, 'Why I am not afraid to enter here. Of those things only should one be afraid Which have the power of doing others harm; Of the rest, no; because they are not fearful. God in his mercy such created me That misery of yours attains me not, Nor any flame assails me of this burning. A gentle Lady is in Heaven, who grieves At this impediment, to which I send thee, So that stern judgment there above is broken.

(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,

(46) Thus I stand yet as an anxious woman in travail, and seek perfect refreshing, but find only the scent or smell or savour in its rising up, wherein the spirit examineth what power sticketh in the true cordial, and in the meanwhile refresheth itself in its sickness with that perfect smell or savour, till the true Samaritan does come, who will dress and bind up its wounds and heal it, and bring it to the eternal inn or lodging, then shall it enjoy the perfect taste.

(144) Direct not thy mind to the vast surfaces of the Earth; for the Plant of Truth grows not upon the ground. Nor measure the motions of the Sun, collecting rules, for he is carded by the Eternal Will of the Father,. and not for your sake alone. Dismiss (from your mind) the impetuous course of the Moon, for she moveth always by the power of necessity. The progression of the Stars was not generated for your sake. The wide aërial flight of birds gives no true knowledge nor the dissection of the entrails of victims; they are all mere toys, the basis of mercenary fraud:, flee from these if you would enter the sacred paradise of piety, where Virtue, Wisdom, and Equity are assembled.

(2) And one reason is this, why that I bid thee hide from God the desire of thine heart. For I hope it should more clearly come to His knowing, for thy profit and in fulfilling of thy desire, by such an hiding, than it should by any other manner of shewing that I trow thou couldest yet shew. And another reason is, for I would by such a hid shewing bring thee out of the boisterousness of bodily feeling into the purity and deepness of ghostly feeling; and so furthermore at the last to help thee to knit the ghostly knot of burning love betwixt thee and thy God, in ghostly onehead and according of will.

(18) But the soul - she who has tasted these things - realized that sweet passions are transitory. She had learned about evil; she went away from them and she entered into a new conduct. Afterwards she despises this life, because it is transitory. And she looks for those foods that will take her into life, and leaves behind her those deceitful foods. And she learns about her light, as she goes about stripping off this world, while her true garment clothes her within, (and) her bridal clothing is placed upon her in beauty of mind, not in pride of flesh. And she learns about her depth and runs into her fold, while her shepherd stands at the door. In return for all the shame and scorn, then, that she received in this world, she receives ten thousand times the grace and glory.

(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) The pious are not numerous, however; nay, they are very few, so that they may be counted even in the world. Whence it doth come about, that in the many bad inheres, through defect of the Gnosis and Discernment of the things that are. For that it is from the intelligence of Godlike Reason, by which all things are ordered, there come to birth contempt and remedy of vice throughout the world. But when unknowingness and ignorance persist, all vicious things wax strong, and plague the soul with wounds incurable; so that, infected with them, and invitiated, it swells up, as though it were with poisons,—except for those who know the Discipline of souls and highest Cure of intellect.

(14) Now the Scripture kindles the living spark of the soul, and directs the eye suitably for contemplation; perchance inserting something, as the husbandman when he ingrafts, but, according to the opinion of the divine apostle, exciting what is in the soul. "For there are certainly among us many weak and sickly, and many sleep. But if we judge ourselves, we shall not be judged." Now this work of mine in writing is not artfully constructed for display; but my memoranda are stored up against old age, as a remedy against forgetfulness, truly an image and outline of those vigorous and animated discourses which I was privileged to hear, and of blessed and truly remarkable men.

(4) And the more people thitherward aspire, More are there to love well, and more they love there, And, as a mirror, one reflects the other. And if my reasoning appease thee not, Thou shalt see Beatrice; and she will fully Take from thee this and every other longing. Endeavour, then, that soon may be extinct, As are the two already, the five wounds That close themselves again by being painful." Even as I wished to say, "Thou dost appease me," I saw that I had reached another circle, So that my eager eyes made me keep silence. There it appeared to me that in a vision Ecstatic on a sudden I was rapt, And in a temple many persons saw; And at the door a woman, with the sweet Behaviour of a mother, saying: "Son, Why in this manner hast thou dealt with us? Lo, sorrowing, thy father and myself Were seeking for thee;"—and as here she ceased, That which appeared at first had disappeared. Then I beheld another with those waters Adown her cheeks which grief distils whenever From great disdain of others it is born,

(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.

(1) Oppressed with stupor, I unto my guide Turned like a little child who always runs For refuge there where he confideth most; And she, even as a mother who straightway Gives comfort to her pale and breathless boy With voice whose wont it is to reassure him, Said to me: "Knowest thou not thou art in heaven, And knowest thou not that heaven is holy all And what is done here cometh from good zeal? After what wise the singing would have changed thee And I by smiling, thou canst now imagine, Since that the cry has startled thee so much, In which if thou hadst understood its prayers Already would be known to thee the vengeance Which thou shalt look upon before thou diest. The sword above here smiteth not in haste Nor tardily, howe'er it seem to him Who fearing or desiring waits for it. But turn thee round towards the others now, For very illustrious spirits shalt thou see, If thou thy sight directest as I say." As it seemed good to her mine eyes I turned, And saw a hundred spherules that together With mutual rays each other more embellished.

(13) For a foolish man usually puts on folly like a robe, and like a garment of sorrow, he puts on shame. And he crowns himself with ignorance, and takes his seat upon a throne of nescience. For while he is without reason, he leads only himself astray, for he is guided by ignorance. And he goes the ways of the desire of every passion. He swims in the desires of life and has sunk. To be sure, he thinks that he finds profit when he does all the things which are without profit. The wretched man who goes through all these things will die, because he does not have the mind, the helmsman. But he is like a ship which the wind tosses to and fro, and like a loose horse which has no rider. For this (man) needed the rider, which is reason. For the wretched one went astray because he did not want advice. He was thrown to and fro by these three misfortunes: he acquired death as a father, ignorance as a mother, and evil counsels - he acquired them as friends and brothers. Therefore, foolish one, you should mourn for yourself.

(5) For of a righteous will his own is made. He, sooth to say, for three months past has taken Whoever wished to enter with all peace; Whence I, who now had turned unto that shore Where salt the waters of the Tiber grow, Benignantly by him have been received. Unto that outlet now his wing is pointed, Because for evermore assemble there Those who tow'rds Acheron do not descend." And I: "If some new law take not from thee Memory or practice of the song of love, Which used to quiet in me all my longings, Thee may it please to comfort therewithal Somewhat this soul of mine, that with its body Hitherward coming is so much distressed." "Love, that within my mind discourses with me," Forthwith began he so melodiously, The melody within me still is sounding. My Master, and myself, and all that people Which with him were, appeared as satisfied As if naught else might touch the mind of any. We all of us were moveless and attentive Unto his notes; and lo! the grave old man, Exclaiming: "What is this, ye laggard spirits?

(100) O thou excellent angelical kingdom, how comely dressed and adorned wert thou once? How has the devil turned thee into a murderous den? Dost thou suppose thou standest now in the flower of thy beauty and glory? No! thou standest in the midst of hell: If thine eyes were but opened, thou wouldst see it.

(8) But some one may say, it is not the mark of justice to leave pious men without assistance, when they are ground down by evil men. To which we must reply, that, if those whom you call pious do indeed love things on earth, which are zealously sought after by the earthly, they have altogether fallen from the Divine Love. And I do not know how they could be called pious, when they unjustly treat things truly loveable and divine, which do not at once surpass in influence in their estimation things undesirable and unloveable. But, if they love the realities, they who desire certain things ought to rejoice when they attain the things desired. Are they not then nearer the angelic virtues, when, as far as possible, by aspiration after things Divine, they withdraw from the affection for earthly things, by being exercised very manfully to this, in their perils, on behalf of the beautiful? So that, it is true to say, that this is rather a property of the Divine Justice--not to pamper and destroy the bravery of the best, by the gifts of earthly things, nor, if any one should attempt to do this, to leave them without assistance, but to establish them in the excellent and harsh condition, and to dispense to them, as being such, things meet for them.