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Between two kinds of food, both equally Remote and tempting, first a man might die Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose. E’en so would stand a lamb between the maw Of two fierce wolves, in dread of both alike: E’en so between two deer a dog would stand, Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise I to myself impute, by equal doubts Held in suspense, since of necessity It happen’d. Silent was I, yet desire Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake My wish more earnestly than language could. As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed From ire, that spurr’d him on to deeds unjust And violent; so look’d Beatrice then. "Well I discern," she thus her words address’d, "How contrary desires each way constrain thee, So that thy anxious thought is in itself Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth. Thou arguest; if the good intent remain; What reason that another’s violence Should stint the measure of my fair desert? "Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems, That spirits to the stars, as Plato deem’d, Return. These are the questions which thy will Urge equally; and therefore I the first Of that will treat which hath the more of gall. Of seraphim he who is most ensky’d, Moses and Samuel, and either John, Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary’s self, Have not in any other heav’n their seats, Than have those spirits which so late thou saw’st; Nor more or fewer years exist; but all Make the first circle beauteous, diversely Partaking of sweet life, as more or less Afflation of eternal bliss pervades them. Here were they shown thee, not that fate assigns This for their sphere, but for a sign to thee Of that celestial furthest from the height. Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak: Since from things sensible alone ye learn That, which digested rightly after turns To intellectual. For no other cause The scripture, condescending graciously To your perception, hands and feet to God Attributes, nor so means: and holy church Doth represent with human countenance Gabriel, and Michael, and him who made Tobias whole. Unlike what here thou seest, The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms Each soul restor’d to its particular star, Believing it to have been taken thence, When nature gave it to inform her mold: Since to appearance his intention is E’en what his words declare: or else to shun Derision, haply thus he hath disguis’d His true opinion. If his meaning be, That to the influencing of these orbs revert The honour and the blame in human acts, Perchance he doth not wholly miss the truth. This principle, not understood aright, Erewhile perverted well nigh all the world; So that it fell to fabled names of Jove, And Mercury, and Mars. That other doubt, Which moves thee, is less harmful; for it brings No peril of removing thee from me. "That, to the eye of man, our justice seems Unjust, is argument for faith, and not For heretic declension. To the end This truth may stand more clearly in your view, I will content thee even to thy wish "If violence be, when that which suffers, nought Consents to that which forceth, not for this These spirits stood exculpate. For the will, That will not, still survives unquench’d, and doth As nature doth in fire, tho’ violence Wrest it a thousand times; for, if it yield Or more or less, so far it follows force. And thus did these, whom they had power to seek The hallow’d place again. In them, had will Been perfect, such as once upon the bars Held Laurence firm, or wrought in Scaevola To his own hand remorseless, to the path, Whence they were drawn, their steps had hasten’d back, When liberty return’d: but in too few Resolve so steadfast dwells. And by these words If duly weigh’d, that argument is void, Which oft might have perplex’d thee still. But now Another question thwarts thee, which to solve Might try thy patience without better aid. I have, no doubt, instill’d into thy mind, That blessed spirit may not lie; since near The source of primal truth it dwells for aye: And thou might’st after of Piccarda learn That Constance held affection to the veil; So that she seems to contradict me here. Not seldom, brother, it hath chanc’d for men To do what they had gladly left undone, Yet to shun peril they have done amiss: E’en as Alcmaeon, at his father’s suit Slew his own mother, so made pitiless Not to lose pity. On this point bethink thee, That force and will are blended in such wise As not to make the’ offence excusable. Absolute will agrees not to the wrong, That inasmuch as there is fear of woe From non-compliance, it agrees. Of will Thus absolute Piccarda spake, and I Of th’ other; so that both have truly said." Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well’d From forth the fountain of all truth; and such The rest, that to my wond’ring thoughts l found. "O thou of primal love the prime delight! Goddess! "I straight reply’d, "whose lively words Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul! Affection fails me to requite thy grace With equal sum of gratitude: be his To recompense, who sees and can reward thee. Well I discern, that by that truth alone Enlighten’d, beyond which no truth may roam, Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know: Therein she resteth, e’en as in his lair The wild beast, soon as she hath reach’d that bound, And she hath power to reach it; else desire Were given to no end. And thence doth doubt Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth; And it is nature which from height to height On to the summit prompts us. This invites, This doth assure me, lady, rev’rently To ask thee of other truth, that yet Is dark to me. I fain would know, if man By other works well done may so supply The failure of his vows, that in your scale They lack not weight." I spake; and on me straight Beatrice look’d with eyes that shot forth sparks Of love celestial in such copious stream, That, virtue sinking in me overpower’d, I turn’d, and downward bent confus’d my sight. |
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