(1) While I was doubting for my vision quenched, Out of the flame refulgent that had quenched it Issued a breathing, that attentive made me, Saying: "While thou recoverest the sense Of seeing which in me thou hast consumed, 'Tis well that speaking thou shouldst compensate it. Begin then, and declare to what thy soul Is aimed, and count it for a certainty, Sight is in thee bewildered and not dead; Because the Lady, who through this divine Region conducteth thee, has in her look The power the hand of Ananias had." I said: "As pleaseth her, or soon or late Let the cure come to eyes that portals were When she with fire I ever burn with entered. The Good, that gives contentment to this Court, The Alpha and Omega is of all The writing that love reads me low or loud." The selfsame voice, that taken had from me The terror of the sudden dazzlement, To speak still farther put it in my thought; And said: "In verity with finer sieve Behoveth thee to sift; thee it behoveth To say who aimed thy bow at such a target."

(2) And the sun's face, uprising, overshadowed So that by tempering influence of vapours For a long interval the eye sustained it; Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers Which from those hands angelical ascended, And downward fell again inside and out, Over her snow-white veil with olive cinct Appeared a lady under a green mantle, Vested in colour of the living flame. And my own spirit, that already now So long a time had been, that in her presence Trembling with awe it had not stood abashed, Without more knowledge having by mine eyes, Through occult virtue that from her proceeded Of ancient love the mighty influence felt. As soon as on my vision smote the power Sublime, that had already pierced me through Ere from my boyhood I had yet come forth, To the left hand I turned with that reliance With which the little child runs to his mother, When he has fear, or when he is afflicted, To say unto Virgilius: "Not a drachm Of blood remains in me, that does not tremble; I know the traces of the ancient flame."

(5) And then in manner of the little flame, Which followeth the fire where'er it shifts, After the spirit followeth its new form. Since afterwards it takes from this its semblance, It is called shade; and thence it organizes Thereafter every sense, even to the sight. Thence is it that we speak, and thence we laugh; Thence is it that we form the tears and sighs, That on the mountain thou mayhap hast heard. According as impress us our desires And other affections, so the shade is shaped, And this is cause of what thou wonderest at." And now unto the last of all the circles Had we arrived, and to the right hand turned, And were attentive to another care. There the embankment shoots forth flames of fire, And upward doth the cornice breathe a blast That drives them back, and from itself sequesters. Hence we must needs go on the open side, And one by one; and I did fear the fire On this side, and on that the falling down. My Leader said: "Along this place one ought To keep upon the eyes a tightened rein, Seeing that one so easily might err."

(3) The faculty that lends discourse to reason Did apprehend that they were candlesticks, And in the voices of the song "Hosanna!" Above them flamed the harness beautiful, Far brighter than the moon in the serene Of midnight, at the middle of her month. I turned me round, with admiration filled, To good Virgilius, and he answered me With visage no less full of wonderment. Then back I turned my face to those high things, Which moved themselves towards us so sedately, They had been distanced by new-wedded brides. The lady chid me: "Why dost thou burn only So with affection for the living lights, And dost not look at what comes after them?" Then saw I people, as behind their leaders, Coming behind them, garmented in white, And such a whiteness never was on earth. The water on my left flank was resplendent, And back to me reflected my left side, E'en as a mirror, if I looked therein. When I upon my margin had such post That nothing but the stream divided us, Better to see I gave my steps repose;

(3) Thus round about me flashed a living light, And left me swathed around with such a veil Of its effulgence, that I nothing saw. "Ever the Love which quieteth this heaven Welcomes into itself with such salute, To make the candle ready for its flame." No sooner had within me these brief words An entrance found, than I perceived myself To be uplifted over my own power, And I with vision new rekindled me, Such that no light whatever is so pure But that mine eyes were fortified against it. And light I saw in fashion of a river Fulvid with its effulgence, 'twixt two banks Depicted with an admirable Spring. Out of this river issued living sparks, And on all sides sank down into the flowers, Like unto rubies that are set in gold; And then, as if inebriate with the odours, They plunged again into the wondrous torrent, And as one entered issued forth another. "The high desire, that now inflames and moves thee To have intelligence of what thou seest, Pleaseth me all the more, the more it swells.

(5) And if from smoke a fire may be inferred, Such an oblivion clearly demonstrates Some error in thy will elsewhere intent. Truly from this time forward shall my words Be naked, so far as it is befitting To lay them open unto thy rude gaze." And more coruscant and with slower steps The sun was holding the meridian circle, Which, with the point of view, shifts here and there When halted (as he cometh to a halt, Who goes before a squadron as its escort, If something new he find upon his way) The ladies seven at a dark shadow's edge, Such as, beneath green leaves and branches black, The Alp upon its frigid border wears. In front of them the Tigris and Euphrates Methought I saw forth issue from one fountain, And slowly part, like friends, from one another. "O light, O glory of the human race! What stream is this which here unfolds itself From out one source, and from itself withdraws?"

(2) Rejoicing in their flamelets seemed the heaven. O thou septentrional and widowed site, Because thou art deprived of seeing these! When from regarding them I had withdrawn, Turning a little to the other pole, There where the Wain had disappeared already, I saw beside me an old man alone, Worthy of so much reverence in his look, That more owes not to father any son. A long beard and with white hair intermingled He wore, in semblance like unto the tresses, Of which a double list fell on his breast. The rays of the four consecrated stars Did so adorn his countenance with light, That him I saw as were the sun before him. "Who are you? ye who, counter the blind river, Have fled away from the eternal prison?" Moving those venerable plumes, he said: "Who guided you? or who has been your lamp In issuing forth out of the night profound, That ever black makes the infernal valley? The laws of the abyss, are they thus broken? Or is there changed in heaven some council new, That being damned ye come unto my crags?"

(77) But when thou lookest upon a thing which pleaseth thee, and awakenest the spirit in thine heart, then thou kindlest the fire in thine heart, which burneth first in the sweet water like a glowing coal.

(1) Already was the flame erect and quiet, To speak no more, and now departed from us With the permission of the gentle Poet; When yet another, which behind it came, Caused us to turn our eyes upon its top By a confused sound that issued from it. As the Sicilian bull (that bellowed first With the lament of him, and that was right, Who with his file had modulated it) Bellowed so with the voice of the afflicted, That, notwithstanding it was made of brass, Still it appeared with agony transfixed; Thus, by not having any way or issue At first from out the fire, to its own language Converted were the melancholy words. But afterwards, when they had gathered way Up through the point, giving it that vibration The tongue had given them in their passage out, We heard it said: "O thou, at whom I aim My voice, and who but now wast speaking Lombard, Saying, 'Now go thy way, no more I urge thee,' Because I come perchance a little late, To stay and speak with me let it not irk thee; Thou seest it irks not me, and I am burning.

(11) I behold Thee on all sides glowing like a mass of radiance, with Thy diadem and mace and discus, blazing everywhere like burning fire and the burning sun, hard to look at, and passing all measure.

(6) So I became before that latest fire, While it was said, "Why dost thou daze thyself To see a thing which here hath no existence? Earth in the earth my body is, and shall be With all the others there, until our number With the eternal proposition tallies. With the two garments in the blessed cloister Are the two lights alone that have ascended: And this shalt thou take back into your world." And at this utterance the flaming circle Grew quiet, with the dulcet intermingling Of sound that by the trinal breath was made, As to escape from danger or fatigue The oars that erst were in the water beaten Are all suspended at a whistle's sound. Ah, how much in my mind was I disturbed, When I turned round to look on Beatrice, That her I could not see, although I was Close at her side and in the Happy World!

(5) And other lights I saw descend where was The summit of the M, and pause there singing The good, I think, that draws them to itself. Then, as in striking upon burning logs Upward there fly innumerable sparks, Whence fools are wont to look for auguries, More than a thousand lights seemed thence to rise, And to ascend, some more, and others less, Even as the Sun that lights them had allotted; And, each one being quiet in its place, The head and neck beheld I of an eagle Delineated by that inlaid fire. He who there paints has none to be his guide; But Himself guides; and is from Him remembered That virtue which is form unto the nest. The other beatitude, that contented seemed At first to bloom a lily on the M, By a slight motion followed out the imprint. O gentle star! what and how many gems Did demonstrate to me, that all our justice Effect is of that heaven which thou ingemmest! Wherefore I pray the Mind, in which begin Thy motion and thy virtue, to regard Whence comes the smoke that vitiates thy rays;

(4) And I beheld the flamelets onward go, Leaving behind themselves the air depicted, And they of trailing pennons had the semblance, So that it overhead remained distinct With sevenfold lists, all of them of the colours Whence the sun's bow is made, and Delia's girdle. These standards to the rearward longer were Than was my sight; and, as it seemed to me, Ten paces were the outermost apart. Under so fair a heaven as I describe The four and twenty Elders, two by two, Came on incoronate with flower-de-luce. They all of them were singing: "Blessed thou Among the daughters of Adam art, and blessed For evermore shall be thy loveliness." After the flowers and other tender grasses In front of me upon the other margin Were disencumbered of that race elect, Even as in heaven star followeth after star, There came close after them four animals, Incoronate each one with verdant leaf. Plumed with six wings was every one of them, The plumage full of eyes; the eyes of Argus If they were living would be such as these.

(3) "My Master," I replied, "by hearing thee I am more sure; but I surmised already It might be so, and already wished to ask thee Who is within that fire, which comes so cleft At top, it seems uprising from the pyre Where was Eteocles with his brother placed." He answered me: "Within there are tormented Ulysses and Diomed, and thus together They unto vengeance run as unto wrath. And there within their flame do they lament The ambush of the horse, which made the door Whence issued forth the Romans' gentle seed; Therein is wept the craft, for which being dead Deidamia still deplores Achilles, And pain for the Palladium there is borne." "If they within those sparks possess the power To speak," I said, "thee, Master, much I pray, And re-pray, that the prayer be worth a thousand, That thou make no denial of awaiting Until the horned flame shall hither come; Thou seest that with desire I lean towards it." And he to me: "Worthy is thy entreaty Of much applause, and therefore I accept it; But take heed that thy tongue restrain itself.

(2) As many as the hind (who on the hill Rests at the time when he who lights the world His countenance keeps least concealed from us, While as the fly gives place unto the gnat) Seeth the glow-worms down along the valley, Perchance there where he ploughs and makes his vintage; With flames as manifold resplendent all Was the eighth Bolgia, as I grew aware As soon as I was where the depth appeared. And such as he who with the bears avenged him Beheld Elijah's chariot at departing, What time the steeds to heaven erect uprose, For with his eye he could not follow it So as to see aught else than flame alone, Even as a little cloud ascending upward, Thus each along the gorge of the intrenchment Was moving; for not one reveals the theft, And every flame a sinner steals away. I stood upon the bridge uprisen to see, So that, if I had seized not on a rock, Down had I fallen without being pushed. And the Leader, who beheld me so attent, Exclaimed: "Within the fires the spirits are; Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns."

(1) After the truth against the present life Of miserable mortals was unfolded By her who doth imparadise my mind, As in a looking-glass a taper's flame He sees who from behind is lighted by it, Before he has it in his sight or thought, And turns him round to see if so the glass Tell him the truth, and sees that it accords Therewith as doth a music with its metre, In similar wise my memory recollecteth That I did, looking into those fair eyes, Of which Love made the springes to ensnare me. And as I turned me round, and mine were touched By that which is apparent in that volume, Whenever on its gyre we gaze intent, A point beheld I, that was raying out Light so acute, the sight which it enkindles Must close perforce before such great acuteness. And whatsoever star seems smallest here Would seem to be a moon, if placed beside it. As one star with another star is placed. Perhaps at such a distance as appears A halo cincturing the light that paints it, When densest is the vapour that sustains it,

(16) And the Fire generates now also a Fire, according to the Property of every Quality; in the tart Spirit it is tart; in the Bitter, bitter; in the Love, it is a very hearty Yearning, Kindling of the Love, a total, fervent, or burning Kindling, and causes very vehement Desires; in the Sound it is a very shrill tanging and where the Sound in all Qualities tells or expresses, as it were with the Lips or Tongue, whatsoever is in all the Fountain-Spirits, what Joy, Virtue, or Power, Essence, Substance, or Property [they have,] and in the Water it is a very drying Fire.

(2) But to return from this digression: if the presence of the fire of the Gods, and a certain ineffable species of light, externally accede to him who is possessed, and if they wholly fill him, have dominion over and circularly comprehend him on all sides, so that he is not able to exert any one proper energy, what sense, or animadversion, or appropriate projection of intellect, can there be in him who receives a divine fire? What human motion, likewise, can then intervene, or what human reception of passion or ecstasy, or of aberration of the phantasy, or of any thing else of the like kind, such as is apprehended by the multitude, can take place? Let such, therefore, be the divine indications of true inspiration from the Gods, which he who attends to will not wander from a right knowledge concerning it.

(91) "Yet the fire giveth or holdeth forth to us a mystery of the eternal nature, and of the Deity also, wherein a man is to understand two Principles of a twofold source, viz. I. a hot, fierce, astringent, bitter, anxious, consuming one in the fire-source. And out of the fire cometh II. viz. the light, which dwelleth in the fire, but is not apprehended or laid hold on by the fire; also it has another source than the fire has, which is meekness, wherein there is a desire of love, where then, in the love-desire, another will is understood than that which the fire has.

(6) The Providence that regulates all this Makes with its light the heaven forever quiet, Wherein that turns which has the greatest haste. And thither now, as to a site decreed, Bears us away the virtue of that cord Which aims its arrows at a joyous mark. True is it, that as oftentimes the form Accords not with the intention of the art, Because in answering is matter deaf, So likewise from this course doth deviate Sometimes the creature, who the power possesses, Though thus impelled, to swerve some other way, (In the same wise as one may see the fire Fall from a cloud,) if the first impetus Earthward is wrested by some false delight. Thou shouldst not wonder more, if well I judge, At thine ascent, than at a rivulet From some high mount descending to the lowland. Marvel it would be in thee, if deprived Of hindrance, thou wert seated down below, As if on earth the living fire were quiet." Thereat she heavenward turned again her face.