(7) We paused immovable and in suspense, Even as the shepherds who first heard that song, Until the trembling ceased, and it was finished. Then we resumed again our holy path, Watching the shades that lay upon the ground, Already turned to their accustomed plaint. No ignorance ever with so great a strife Had rendered me importunate to know, If erreth not in this my memory, As meditating then I seemed to have; Nor out of haste to question did I dare, Nor of myself I there could aught perceive; So I went onward timorous and thoughtful.

(5) While I delighted me in contemplating The images of such humility, And dear to look on for their Maker's sake, "Behold, upon this side, but rare they make Their steps," the Poet murmured, "many people; These will direct us to the lofty stairs." Mine eyes, that in beholding were intent To see new things, of which they curious are, In turning round towards him were not slow. But still I wish not, Reader, thou shouldst swerve From thy good purposes, because thou hearest How God ordaineth that the debt be paid; Attend not to the fashion of the torment, Think of what follows; think that at the worst It cannot reach beyond the mighty sentence. "Master," began I, "that which I behold Moving towards us seems to me not persons, And what I know not, so in sight I waver." And he to me: "The grievous quality Of this their torment bows them so to earth, That my own eyes at first contended with it; But look there fixedly, and disentangle By sight what cometh underneath those stones; Already canst thou see how each is stricken."

(129) But when he is overcome, then the heavenly gate openeth in my spirit, and then the spirit seeth the divine and heavenly being; not externally without the body, but in the fountain or wellspring of the heart there riseth up the flash in the sensibility or thoughts of the brain, and therein the spirit does contemplate or meditate.

(5) "O my dear Guide, who more than seven times Hast rendered me security, and drawn me From imminent peril that before me stood, Do not desert me," said I, "thus undone; And if the going farther be denied us, Let us retrace our steps together swiftly." And that Lord, who had led me thitherward, Said unto me: "Fear not; because our passage None can take from us, it by Such is given. But here await me, and thy weary spirit Comfort and nourish with a better hope; For in this nether world I will not leave thee." So onward goes and there abandons me My Father sweet, and I remain in doubt, For No and Yes within my head contend. I could not hear what he proposed to them; But with them there he did not linger long, Ere each within in rivalry ran back. They closed the portals, those our adversaries, On my Lord's breast, who had remained without And turned to me with footsteps far between.

(59) And now if it is to be helped again, then the Heart of God with its Light (and not the Father) must come into it; it stands in the Father however, yet turned away from the Entrance (to the Birth of the Heart of God) backward into this World, where no Light is to be comprehended, either behind or before it; for the Substance of the Body breaks, and then the poor Soul stands imprisoned in the dark Dungeon; and here the Love of God towards the poor imprisoned Soul is [made] known: Consider thyself here, O dear Mind.

(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.

(1) Broke the deep lethargy within my head A heavy thunder, so that I upstarted, Like to a person who by force is wakened; And round about I moved my rested eyes, Uprisen erect, and steadfastly I gazed, To recognise the place wherein I was. True is it, that upon the verge I found me Of the abysmal valley dolorous, That gathers thunder of infinite ululations. Obscure, profound it was, and nebulous, So that by fixing on its depths my sight Nothing whatever I discerned therein. "Let us descend now into the blind world," Began the Poet, pallid utterly; "I will be first, and thou shalt second be." And I, who of his colour was aware, Said: "How shall I come, if thou art afraid, Who'rt wont to be a comfort to my fears?" And he to me: "The anguish of the people Who are below here in my face depicts That pity which for terror thou hast taken. Let us go on, for the long way impels us." Thus he went in, and thus he made me enter The foremost circle that surrounds the abyss.

(9) This opening of a window in the heart towards the unseen also takes place in conditions approaching those of prophetic inspiration, when intuitions spring up in the mind unconveyed through any sense-channel. The more a man purifies himself from fleshly lusts and concentrates his mind on God, the more conscious will he be of such intuitions. Those who are not conscious of them have no right to deny their reality.

(1) Now was alone rejoicing in its word That soul beatified, and I was tasting My own, the bitter tempering with the sweet, And the Lady who to God was leading me Said: "Change thy thought; consider that I am Near unto Him who every wrong disburdens." Unto the loving accents of my comfort I turned me round, and then what love I saw Within those holy eyes I here relinquish; Not only that my language I distrust, But that my mind cannot return so far Above itself, unless another guide it. Thus much upon that point can I repeat, That, her again beholding, my affection From every other longing was released. While the eternal pleasure, which direct Rayed upon Beatrice, from her fair face Contented me with its reflected aspect, Conquering me with the radiance of a smile, She said to me, "Turn thee about and listen; Not in mine eyes alone is Paradise." Even as sometimes here do we behold The affection in the look, if it be such That all the soul is wrapt away by it,

(2) Therefore we must affirm no more than these three Primals: we are not to introduce superfluous distinctions which their nature rejects. We are to proclaim one Intellectual-Principle unchangeably the same, in no way subject to decline, acting in imitation, as true as its nature allows, of the Father.

And as to our own Soul we are to hold that it stands, in part, always in the presence of The Divine Beings, while in part it is concerned with the things of this sphere and in part occupies a middle ground. It is one nature in graded powers; and sometimes the Soul in its entirety is borne along by the loftiest in itself and in the Authentic Existent; sometimes, the less noble part is dragged down and drags the mid-soul with it, though the law is that the Soul may never succumb entire.

The Soul's disaster falls upon it when it ceases to dwell in the perfect Beauty- the appropriate dwelling-place of that Soul which is no part and of which we too are no part- thence to pour forth into the frame of the All whatsoever the All can hold of good and beauty. There that Soul rests, free from all solicitude, not ruling by plan or policy, not redressing, but establishing order by the marvellous efficacy of its contemplation of the things above it.

For the measure of its absorption in that vision is the measure of its grace and power, and what it draws from this contemplation it communicates to the lower sphere, illuminated and illuminating always.

(4) Not from that region which the highest thunders Is any mortal eye so far removed, In whatsoever sea it deepest sinks, As there from Beatrice my sight; but this Was nothing unto me; because her image Descended not to me by medium blurred. "O Lady, thou in whom my hope is strong, And who for my salvation didst endure In Hell to leave the imprint of thy feet, Of whatsoever things I have beheld, As coming from thy power and from thy goodness I recognise the virtue and the grace. Thou from a slave hast brought me unto freedom, By all those ways, by all the expedients, Whereby thou hadst the power of doing it. Preserve towards me thy magnificence, So that this soul of mine, which thou hast healed, Pleasing to thee be loosened from the body." Thus I implored; and she, so far away, Smiled, as it seemed, and looked once more at me; Then unto the eternal fountain turned. And said the Old Man holy: "That thou mayst Accomplish perfectly thy journeying, Whereunto prayer and holy love have sent me,

(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."

(3) Dense clouds do not appear, nor rarefied, Nor coruscation, nor the daughter of Thaumas, That often upon earth her region shifts; No arid vapour any farther rises Than to the top of the three steps I spake of, Whereon the Vicar of Peter has his feet. Lower down perchance it trembles less or more, But, for the wind that in the earth is hidden I know not how, up here it never trembled. It trembles here, whenever any soul Feels itself pure, so that it soars, or moves To mount aloft, and such a cry attends it. Of purity the will alone gives proof, Which, being wholly free to change its convent, Takes by surprise the soul, and helps it fly. First it wills well; but the desire permits not, Which divine justice with the self-same will There was to sin, upon the torment sets. And I, who have been lying in this pain Five hundred years and more, but just now felt A free volition for a better seat. Therefore thou heardst the earthquake, and the pious Spirits along the mountain rendering praise Unto the Lord, that soon he speed them upwards."

(2) And look thou have no wonder of this: for mightest thou once see it as clearly, as thou mayest by grace come to for to grope it and feel it in this life, thou wouldest think as I say. But be thou sure that clear sight shall never man have here in this life: but the feeling may men have through grace when God vouchsafeth. And therefore lift up thy love to that cloud: rather, if I shall say thee sooth, let God draw thy love up to that cloud and strive thou through help of His grace to forget all other thing.

(2) ’Twixt Heaven and Earth, upon the waves of Cosmos, is it dragged in contrary directions, for ever racked with ceaseless pains ; so that in this its deathless nature doth afflict the soul, in that because of its unceasing sense, it hath the yoke of ceaseless torture set upon its neck. Know, then, that we should dread, and be afraid, and [ever] be upon our guard, lest we should be entangled in these [toils]. For those who do not now believe, will after their misdeeds be driven to believe, by facts not words, by actual sufferings of punishment and not by threats.

(12) But if thou raisest thy thoughts, and considerest where God is, then thou apprehendest the astral birth or geniture, where love and wrath move one against the other. But when thou drawest up the faith in God, who ruleth in holiness in this government or dominion, then thou breakest through heaven, and apprehendest or layest hold on God at his holy heart.

(4) Therefore now, if we will speak of this most serious Article, we must go from Jerusalem to Jericho, and see how we lie among Murderers, who have so wounded us, and beaten us, that we are half dead, and we must look about us for the Samaritan with his Beast, that he may dress our Wounds, and bring us into his Inn. O how lamentable and miserable it is, that we are so beaten by the Murderer (the Devil) that we are half dead, and yet feel our Smart no more! O if the Physician would come, and dress our Wounds, that our Soul might revive and live, how should we rejoice! Thus speaks the Desire, and has such longing hearty Wishes; and although the Physician is present, yet the Mind can no where apprehend him, because it is so very much wounded, and lies half dead.

(6) Now if thou trainest thy mind's eye along From light to light pursuant of my praise, With thirst already of the eighth thou waitest. By seeing every good therein exults The sainted soul, which the fallacious world Makes manifest to him who listeneth well; The body whence 'twas hunted forth is lying Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom And banishment it came unto this peace. See farther onward flame the burning breath Of Isidore, of Beda, and of Richard Who was in contemplation more than man. This, whence to me returneth thy regard, The light is of a spirit unto whom In his grave meditations death seemed slow.

(2) Let not, therefore, but travail therein till thou feel list. For at the first time when thou dost it, thou findest but a darkness; and as it were a cloud of unknowing, thou knowest not what, saving that thou feelest in thy will a naked intent unto God. This darkness and this cloud is, howsoever thou dost, betwixt thee and thy God, and letteth thee that thou mayest neither see Him clearly by light of understanding in thy reason, nor feel Him in sweetness of love in thine affection.

(4) The heavens your movements do initiate, I say not all; but granting that I say it, Light has been given you for good and evil, And free volition; which, if some fatigue In the first battles with the heavens it suffers, Afterwards conquers all, if well 'tis nurtured. To greater force and to a better nature, Though free, ye subject are, and that creates The mind in you the heavens have not in charge. Hence, if the present world doth go astray, In you the cause is, be it sought in you; And I therein will now be thy true spy. Forth from the hand of Him, who fondles it Before it is, like to a little girl Weeping and laughing in her childish sport, Issues the simple soul, that nothing knows, Save that, proceeding from a joyous Maker, Gladly it turns to that which gives it pleasure. Of trivial good at first it tastes the savour; Is cheated by it, and runs after it, If guide or rein turn not aside its love. Hence it behoved laws for a rein to place, Behoved a king to have, who at the least Of the true city should discern the tower.