(2) Then reigned within my lofty fantasy One crucified, disdainful and ferocious In countenance, and even thus was dying. Around him were the great Ahasuerus, Esther his wife, and the just Mordecai, Who was in word and action so entire. And even as this image burst asunder Of its own self, in fashion of a bubble In which the water it was made of fails, There rose up in my vision a young maiden Bitterly weeping, and she said: "O queen, Why hast thou wished in anger to be naught? Thou'st slain thyself, Lavinia not to lose; Now hast thou lost me; I am she who mourns, Mother, at thine ere at another's ruin." As sleep is broken, when upon a sudden New light strikes in upon the eyelids closed, And broken quivers ere it dieth wholly, So this imagining of mine fell down As soon as the effulgence smote my face, Greater by far than what is in our wont. I turned me round to see where I might be, When said a voice, "Here is the passage up;" Which from all other purposes removed me,

(2) Truly I wept, leaning upon a peak Of the hard crag, so that my Escort said To me: "Art thou, too, of the other fools? Here pity lives when it is wholly dead; Who is a greater reprobate than he Who feels compassion at the doom divine? Lift up, lift up thy head, and see for whom Opened the earth before the Thebans' eyes; Wherefore they all cried: 'Whither rushest thou, Amphiaraus? Why dost leave the war?' And downward ceased he not to fall amain As far as Minos, who lays hold on all. See, he has made a bosom of his shoulders! Because he wished to see too far before him Behind he looks, and backward goes his way: Behold Tiresias, who his semblance changed, When from a male a female he became, His members being all of them transformed; And afterwards was forced to strike once more The two entangled serpents with his rod, Ere he could have again his manly plumes. That Aruns is, who backs the other's belly, Who in the hills of Luni, there where grubs The Carrarese who houses underneath,

(4) And yet she wist well, and felt well in herself in a sad soothfastness, that she was a wretch most foul of all other, and that her sins had made a division betwixt her and her God that she loved so much: and also that they were in great part cause of her languishing sickness for lacking of love. But what thereof? Came she therefore down from the height of desire into the deepness of her sinful life, and searched in the foul stinking fen and dunghill of her sins; searching them up, by one and by one, with all the circumstances of them, and sorrowed and wept so upon them each one by itself? Nay, surely she did not so. And why? Because God let her wit by His grace within in her soul, that she should never so bring it about. For so might she sooner have raised in herself an ableness to have oft sinned, than to have purchased by that work any plain forgiveness of all her sins.

(3) Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress. Whereupon said I: "Master, who are those People, whom the black air so castigates?" "The first of those, of whom intelligence Thou fain wouldst have," then said he unto me, "The empress was of many languages. To sensual vices she was so abandoned, That lustful she made licit in her law, To remove the blame to which she had been led. She is Semiramis, of whom we read That she succeeded Ninus, and was his spouse; She held the land which now the Sultan rules. The next is she who killed herself for love, And broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus; Then Cleopatra the voluptuous." Helen I saw, for whom so many ruthless Seasons revolved; and saw the great Achilles, Who at the last hour combated with Love. Paris I saw, Tristan; and more than a thousand Shades did he name and point out with his finger, Whom Love had separated from our life. After that I had listened to my Teacher, Naming the dames of eld and cavaliers, Pity prevailed, and I was nigh bewildered.

(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,

(2) "It came to pass, when I had led her unto a somewhat spacious region in the chaos, that the emanations of Self-willed ceased entirely to oppress her, thinking that she would be led up out of the chaos altogether. It came to pass then, when the emanations of Self-willed had noticed that Pistis Sophia had not been led up out the chaos, that they turned about again all together, oppressing her vehemently. Because of this then she uttered the eighth repentance, because they had not ceased to oppress her, and had turned about to oppress her to the utmost. She uttered this repentance, saying thus:

(26) Jesus saw her weeping: he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled, and said,

(2) On this account my wish would be content To hear what fortune is approaching me, Because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly." Thus did I say unto that selfsame light That unto me had spoken before; and even As Beatrice willed was my own will confessed. Not in vague phrase, in which the foolish folk Ensnared themselves of old, ere yet was slain The Lamb of God who taketh sins away, But with clear words and unambiguous Language responded that paternal love, Hid and revealed by its own proper smile: "Contingency, that outside of the volume Of your materiality extends not, Is all depicted in the eternal aspect. Necessity however thence it takes not, Except as from the eye, in which 'tis mirrored, A ship that with the current down descends. From thence, e'en as there cometh to the ear Sweet harmony from an organ, comes in sight To me the time that is preparing for thee. As forth from Athens went Hippolytus, By reason of his step-dame false and cruel, So thou from Florence must perforce depart.

(4) When we were there, where it is hollowed out Beneath, to give a passage to the scourged, The Guide said: "Wait, and see that on thee strike The vision of those others evil-born, Of whom thou hast not yet beheld the faces, Because together with us they have gone." From the old bridge we looked upon the train Which tow'rds us came upon the other border, And which the scourges in like manner smite. And the good Master, without my inquiring, Said to me: "See that tall one who is coming, And for his pain seems not to shed a tear; Still what a royal aspect he retains! That Jason is, who by his heart and cunning The Colchians of the Ram made destitute. He by the isle of Lemnos passed along After the daring women pitiless Had unto death devoted all their males. There with his tokens and with ornate words Did he deceive Hypsipyle, the maiden Who first, herself, had all the rest deceived. There did he leave her pregnant and forlorn; Such sin unto such punishment condemns him, And also for Medea is vengeance done.

(4) "Look at me well; in sooth I'm Beatrice! How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain? Didst thou not know that man is happy here?" Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain, But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass, So great a shame did weigh my forehead down. As to the son the mother seems superb, So she appeared to me; for somewhat bitter Tasteth the savour of severe compassion. Silent became she, and the Angels sang Suddenly, "In te, Domine, speravi:" But beyond 'pedes meos' did not pass. Even as the snow among the living rafters Upon the back of Italy congeals, Blown on and drifted by Sclavonian winds, And then, dissolving, trickles through itself Whene'er the land that loses shadow breathes, So that it seems a fire that melts a taper; E'en thus was I without a tear or sigh, Before the song of those who sing for ever After the music of the eternal spheres. But when I heard in their sweet melodies Compassion for me, more than had they said, "O wherefore, lady, dost thou thus upbraid him?"

(54) Tell me truly, O passion, is this your trickery? Or else is it stubbornness shunning obedience to God? If you say not truly I will attack you, And will afflict you more severely with discipline." Passion then heaved a cry from its breast, And without mouth vented the following complaints: "In this cell you slay me every day; Not a soul is aware of my condition; In the fight with one wound I shall quit the body, And the people will admire my valor and self-devotion."

(3) Each one her breast was rending with her nails; They beat them with their palms, and cried so loud, That I for dread pressed close unto the Poet. "Medusa come, so we to stone will change him!" All shouted looking down; "in evil hour Avenged we not on Theseus his assault!" "Turn thyself round, and keep thine eyes close shut, For if the Gorgon appear, and thou shouldst see it, No more returning upward would there be." Thus said the Master; and he turned me round Himself, and trusted not unto my hands So far as not to blind me with his own. O ye who have undistempered intellects, Observe the doctrine that conceals itself Beneath the veil of the mysterious verses! And now there came across the turbid waves The clangour of a sound with terror fraught, Because of which both of the margins trembled; Not otherwise it was than of a wind Impetuous on account of adverse heats, That smites the forest, and, without restraint, The branches rends, beats down, and bears away; Right onward, laden with dust, it goes superb, And puts to flight the wild beasts and the shepherds.

(4) I do not think her mother loves me more, Since she has laid aside her wimple white, Which she, unhappy, needs must wish again. Through her full easily is comprehended How long in woman lasts the fire of love, If eye or touch do not relight it often. So fair a hatchment will not make for her The Viper marshalling the Milanese A-field, as would have made Gallura's Cock." In this wise spake he, with the stamp impressed Upon his aspect of that righteous zeal Which measurably burneth in the heart. My greedy eyes still wandered up to heaven, Still to that point where slowest are the stars, Even as a wheel the nearest to its axle. And my Conductor: "Son, what dost thou gaze at Up there?" And I to him: "At those three torches With which this hither pole is all on fire." And he to me: "The four resplendent stars Thou sawest this morning are down yonder low, And these have mounted up to where those were." As he was speaking, to himself Sordello Drew him, and said, "Lo there our Adversary!" And pointed with his finger to look thither.

(4) There the high glory of the Roman Prince Was chronicled, whose great beneficence Moved Gregory to his great victory; 'Tis of the Emperor Trajan I am speaking; And a poor widow at his bridle stood, In attitude of weeping and of grief. Around about him seemed it thronged and full Of cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold Above them visibly in the wind were moving. The wretched woman in the midst of these Seemed to be saying: "Give me vengeance, Lord, For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking." And he to answer her: "Now wait until I shall return." And she: "My Lord," like one In whom grief is impatient, "shouldst thou not Return?" And he: "Who shall be where I am Will give it thee." And she: "Good deed of others What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own?" Whence he: "Now comfort thee, for it behoves me That I discharge my duty ere I move; Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me." He who on no new thing has ever looked Was the creator of this visible language, Novel to us, for here it is not found.

(2) As unto those who are too reverential, Speaking in presence of superiors, Who drag no living utterance to their teeth, It me befell, that without perfect sound Began I: "My necessity, Madonna, You know, and that which thereunto is good." And she to me: "Of fear and bashfulness Henceforward I will have thee strip thyself, So that thou speak no more as one who dreams. Know that the vessel which the serpent broke Was, and is not; but let him who is guilty Think that God's vengeance does not fear a sop. Without an heir shall not for ever be The Eagle that left his plumes upon the car, Whence it became a monster, then a prey; For verily I see, and hence narrate it, The stars already near to bring the time, From every hindrance safe, and every bar, Within which a Five-hundred, Ten, and Five, One sent from God, shall slay the thievish woman And that same giant who is sinning with her. And peradventure my dark utterance, Like Themis and the Sphinx, may less persuade thee, Since, in their mode, it clouds the intellect;

(606) element to break loose because the sorrow is another’s; and the spectator fancies that there can be no disgrace to himself in praising and pitying any one who comes telling him what a good man he is, and making a fuss about his troubles; he thinks that the pleasure is a gain, and why should he be supercilious and lose this and the poem too? Few persons ever reflect, as I should imagine, that from the evil of other men something of evil is communicated to themselves. And so the feeling of sorrow which has gathered strength at the sight of the misfortunes of others is with difficulty repressed in our own. How very true! And does not the same hold also of the ridiculous? There are jests which you would be ashamed to make yourself, and yet on the comic stage, or indeed in private, when you hear them, you are greatly amused by them, and are not at all disgusted at their unseemliness;—the case of pity is repeated;—there is a principle in human nature which is disposed to raise a laugh, and this which you once restrained by reason, because you were afraid of being thought a buffoon, is now let out again; and having stimulated the risible faculty at the theatre, you are betrayed unconsciously to yourself into playing the comic poet at home. Quite true, he said. And the same may be said of lust and anger and all the other affections, of desire and pain and pleasure, which are held to be inseparable from every action—in all of them poetry feeds and waters the passions instead of drying them up; she lets them rule, although they ought to be controlled, if mankind are ever to increase in happiness and virtue. I cannot deny it.

THEE, Nemesis I call, almighty queen, By whom the deeds of mortal life are seen: Eternal, much rever'd, of boundless sight, Alone rejoicing in the just and right: Changing the counsels of the human breast For ever various, rolling without rest. To every mortal is thy influence known, And men beneath thy righteous bondage groan; For ev'ry thought within the mind conceal'd Is to thy fight perspicuously reveal'd. The soul unwilling reason to obey By lawless passion rul'd, thy eyes survey. All to see, hear, and rule, O pow'r divine Whose nature Equity contains, is thine. Come, blessed, holy Goddess, hear my pray'r, And make thy mystic's life, thy constant care: Give aid benignant in the needful hour, And strength abundant to the reas'ning pow'r; And far avert the dire, unfriendly race Of counsels impious, arrogant, and base. Next: LXI: To Justice Sacred Texts | Classics « Previous: The Initiations of Orpheus: LIX: To the Graces Index Next: The Initiations of Orpheus: LXI: To Justice » Sacred Texts | Classics

The FUMIGATION from MANNA. O Much-desir'd, prolific, gen'ral queen, Hear me, life-bearing, Health, of beauteous mien, Mother of all; by thee diseases dire, Of bliss destructive, from our life retire; And ev'ry house is flourishing and fair, If with rejoicing aspect thou art there: Each dædal art, thy vig'rous force inspires, And all the world thy helping hand desires; Pluto life's bane alone resists thy will, And ever hates thy all-preserving skill. O fertile queen, from thee forever flows To mortal life from agony repose; And men without thy all-sustaining ease, Find nothing useful, nothing form'd to please; Without thy aid, not Plutus' self can thrive, Nor man to much afflicted age arrive; For thou alone of countenance serene, Dost govern all things, universal queen. Assist thy mystics with propitious mind, And far avert disease of ev'ry kind. Next: LXVIII: To The Furies Sacred Texts | Classics « Previous: The Initiations of Orpheus: LXVI: To Esculapius Index Next: The Initiations of Orpheus: LXVIII: To The Furies » Sacred Texts | Classics

(2) I was greatly troubled in my groaning. I will bathe my bed and my cover each night with my tears. I have become old in the midst of all my enemies. Depart from me, all you who work at lawlessness, for look, the lord has heard the cry of my weeping and the lord has heard my prayer.

(6) For such a prayer, 'twas said unto me, "Pray Matilda that she tell thee;" and here answered, As one does who doth free himself from blame, The beautiful lady: "This and other things Were told to him by me; and sure I am The water of Lethe has not hid them from him." And Beatrice: "Perhaps a greater care, Which oftentimes our memory takes away, Has made the vision of his mind obscure. But Eunoe behold, that yonder rises; Lead him to it, and, as thou art accustomed, Revive again the half-dead virtue in him." Like gentle soul, that maketh no excuse, But makes its own will of another's will As soon as by a sign it is disclosed,