Of love: then added:  "Current is the coin
   Thou utter'st, both in weight and in alloy.
   But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse."
        "Even so glittering and so round," said I,
   "I not a whit misdoubt of its assay."
        Next issued from the deep imbosom'd splendour:
   "Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which
   Is founded every virtue, came to thee."
   "The flood," I answer'd, "from the Spirit of God
   Rain'd down upon the ancient bond and new,--
   Here is the reas'ning, that convinceth me
   So feelingly, each argument beside
   Seems blunt and forceless in comparison."
   Then heard I:  "Wherefore holdest thou that each,
   The elder proposition and the new,
   Which so persuade thee, are the voice of heav'n?"
        "The works, that follow'd, evidence their truth; "
   I answer'd:  "Nature did not make for these
   The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them."
   "Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves,
   Was the reply, "that they in very deed
   Are that they purport?  None hath sworn so to thee."
        "That all the world," said I, "should have bee turn'd
   To Christian, and no miracle been wrought,
   Would in itself be such a miracle,
   The rest were not an hundredth part so great.
   E'en thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger
   To set the goodly plant, that from the vine,
   It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble."
   That ended, through the high celestial court
   Resounded all the spheres.  "Praise we one God!"
   In song of most unearthly melody.
   And when that Worthy thus, from branch to branch,
   Examining, had led me, that we now
   Approach'd the topmost bough, he straight resum'd;
   "The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul,
   So far discreetly hath thy lips unclos'd
   That, whatsoe'er has past them, I commend.
   Behooves thee to express, what thou believ'st,
   The next, and whereon thy belief hath grown."
        "O saintly sire and spirit!"  I began,
   "Who seest that, which thou didst so believe,
   As to outstrip feet younger than thine own,
   Toward the sepulchre?  thy will is here,
   That I the tenour of my creed unfold;
   And thou the cause of it hast likewise ask'd.
   And I reply: I in one God believe,
   One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love
   All heav'n is mov'd, himself unmov'd the while.
   Nor demonstration physical alone,
   Or more intelligential and abstruse,
   Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth
   It cometh to me rather, which is shed
   Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms.
   The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write,
   When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost.
   In three eternal Persons I believe,
   Essence threefold and one, mysterious league
   Of union absolute, which, many a time,
   The word of gospel lore upon my mind
   Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark,
   The lively flame dilates, and like heav'n's star
   Doth glitter in me.''  As the master hears,
   Well pleas'd, and then enfoldeth in his arms
   The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought,
   And having told the errand keeps his peace;
   Thus benediction uttering with song
   Soon as my peace I held, compass'd me thrice
   The apostolic radiance, whose behest
   Had op'd lips; so well their answer pleas'd.
   CANTO XXV
   If e'er the sacred poem that hath made
   Both heav'n and earth copartners in its toil,
   And with lean abstinence, through many a year,
   Faded my brow, be destin'd to prevail
   Over the cruelty, which bars me forth
   Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb
   The wolves set on and fain had worried me,
   With other voice and fleece of other grain
   I shall forthwith return, and, standing up
   At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath
   Due to the poet's temples: for I there
   First enter'd on the faith which maketh souls
   Acceptable to God: and, for its sake,
   Peter had then circled my forehead thus.
        Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth
   The first fruit of Christ's vicars on the earth,
   Toward us mov'd a light, at view whereof
   My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me:
   "Lo!  lo!  behold the peer of mickle might,
   That makes Falicia throng'd with visitants!"
        As when the ring-dove by his mate alights,
   In circles each about the other wheels,
   And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I
   One, of the other great and glorious prince,
   With kindly greeting hail'd, extolling both
   Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end
   Was to their gratulation, silent, each,
   Before me sat they down, so burning bright,
   I could not look upon them.  Smiling then,
   Beatrice spake:  "O life in glory shrin'd!"
   Who didst the largess of our kingly court
   Set down with faithful pen!  let now thy voice
   Of hope the praises in this height resound.
   For thou, who figur'st them in shapes, as clear,
   As Jesus stood before thee, well can'st speak them."
        "Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust:
   For that, which hither from the mortal world
   Arriveth, must be ripen'd in our beam."
        Such cheering accents from the second flame
   Assur'd me; and mine eyes I lifted up
   Unto the mountains that had bow'd them late
   With over-heavy burden.  "Sith our Liege
   Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death,
   In the most secret council, with his lords
   Shouldst be confronted, so that having view'd
   The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith
   Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate
   With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare,
   What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee,
   And whence thou hadst it?"  Thus proceeding still,
   The second light: and she, whose gentle love
   My soaring pennons in that lofty flight
   Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin'd:
   Among her sons, not one more full of hope,
   Hath the church militant: so 't is of him
   Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb
   Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term
   Of warfare, hence permitted he is come,
   From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see.
   The other points, both which thou hast inquir'd,
   Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell
   How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him
   Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease,
   And without boasting, so God give him grace."
   Like to the scholar, practis'd in his task,
   Who, willing to give proof of diligence,
   Seconds his teacher gladly, "Hope," said I,
   "Is of the joy to come a sure expectance,
   Th' effect of grace divine and merit preceding.
   This light from many a star visits my heart,
   But flow'd to me the first from him, who sang
   The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme
   Among his tuneful brethren.  'Let all h 
					     					 			ope
   In thee,' so speak his anthem, 'who have known
   Thy name;' and with my faith who know not that?
   From thee, the next, distilling from his spring,
   In thine epistle, fell on me the drops
   So plenteously, that I on others shower
   The influence of their dew."  Whileas I spake,
   A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning,
   Within the bosom of that mighty sheen,
   Play'd tremulous; then forth these accents breath'd:
   "Love for the virtue which attended me
   E'en to the palm, and issuing from the field,
   Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires
   To ask of thee, whom also it delights;
   What promise thou from hope in chief dost win."
        "Both scriptures, new and ancient," I reply'd;
   "Propose the mark (which even now I view)
   For souls belov'd of God. Isaias saith,
        That, in their own land, each one must be clad
   In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life.
   In terms more full,
   And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth
   This revelation to us, where he tells
   Of the white raiment destin'd to the saints."
   And, as the words were ending, from above,
   "They hope in thee," first heard we cried: whereto
   Answer'd the carols all.  Amidst them next,
   A light of so clear amplitude emerg'd,
   That winter's month were but a single day,
   Were such a crystal in the Cancer's sign.
        Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes,
   And enters on the mazes of the dance,
   Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent,
   Than to do fitting honour to the bride;
   So I beheld the new effulgence come
   Unto the other two, who in a ring
   Wheel'd, as became their rapture.  In the dance
   And in the song it mingled.  And the dame
   Held on them fix'd her looks: e'en as the spouse
   Silent and moveless.  "This is he, who lay
   Upon the bosom of our pelican:
   This he, into whose keeping from the cross
   The mighty charge was given."  Thus she spake,
   Yet therefore naught the more remov'd her Sight
   From marking them, or ere her words began,
   Or when they clos'd.  As he, who looks intent,
   And strives with searching ken, how he may see
   The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire
   Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I
   Peer'd on that last resplendence, while I heard:
   "Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that,
   Which here abides not?  Earth my body is,
   In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long,
   As till our number equal the decree
   Of the Most High.  The two that have ascended,
   In this our blessed cloister, shine alone
   With the two garments.  So report below."
        As when, for ease of labour, or to shun
   Suspected peril at a whistle's breath,
   The oars, erewhile dash'd frequent in the wave,
   All rest; the flamy circle at that voice
   So rested, and the mingling sound was still,
   Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose.
   I turn'd, but ah!  how trembled in my thought,
   When, looking at my side again to see
   Beatrice, I descried her not, although
   Not distant, on the happy coast she stood.
   CANTO XXVI
   With dazzled eyes, whilst wond'ring I remain'd,
   Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me,
   Issued a breath, that in attention mute
   Detain'd me; and these words it spake:  "'T were well,
   That, long as till thy vision, on my form
   O'erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse
   Thou compensate the brief delay.  Say then,
   Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:
   And meanwhile rest assur'd, that sight in thee
   Is but o'erpowered a space, not wholly quench'd:
   Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look
   Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt
   In Ananias' hand.'' I answering thus:
   "Be to mine eyes the remedy or late
   Or early, at her pleasure; for they were
   The gates, at which she enter'd, and did light
   Her never dying fire.  My wishes here
   Are centered; in this palace is the weal,
   That Alpha and Omega, is to all
   The lessons love can read me."  Yet again
   The voice which had dispers'd my fear, when daz'd
   With that excess, to converse urg'd, and spake:
   "Behooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms,
   And say, who level'd at this scope thy bow."
        "Philosophy," said I, ''hath arguments,
   And this place hath authority enough
   'T' imprint in me such love: for, of constraint,
   Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good,
   Kindles our love, and in degree the more,
   As it comprises more of goodness in 't.
   The essence then, where such advantage is,
   That each good, found without it, is naught else
   But of his light the beam, must needs attract
   The soul of each one, loving, who the truth
   Discerns, on which this proof is built.  Such truth
   Learn I from him, who shows me the first love
   Of all intelligential substances
   Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word
   Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith,
   'I will make all my good before thee pass.'
   Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim'st,
   E'en at the outset of thy heralding,
   In mortal ears the mystery of heav'n."
        "Through human wisdom, and th' authority
   Therewith agreeing," heard I answer'd, "keep
   The choicest of thy love for God.  But say,
   If thou yet other cords within thee feel'st
   That draw thee towards him; so that thou report
   How many are the fangs, with which this love
   Is grappled to thy soul."  I did not miss,
   To what intent the eagle of our Lord
   Had pointed his demand; yea noted well
   Th' avowal, which he led to; and resum'd:
   "All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God,
   Confederate to make fast our clarity.
   The being of the world, and mine own being,
   The death which he endur'd that I should live,
   And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do,
   To the foremention'd lively knowledge join'd,
   Have from the sea of ill love sav'd my bark,
   And on the coast secur'd it of the right.
   As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom,
   My love for them is great, as is the good
   Dealt by th' eternal hand, that tends them all."
        I ended, and therewith a song most sweet
   Rang through the spheres; and "Holy, holy, holy,"
   Accordant with the rest my lady sang.
   And as a sleep is broken and dispers'd
   Through sharp encounter of the nimble light,
   With the eye's spirit running forth to meet
   The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg'd;
   And the upstartled wight loathes that be sees;
   So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems
   Of all around him, till assurance waits
   On better judgment: thus the saintly came
   Drove from before mine eyes the motes away,
   With the resplendence of her own, that cast
  
					     					 			  Their brightness downward, thousand miles below.
   Whence I my vision, clearer shall before,
   Recover'd; and, well nigh astounded, ask'd
   Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw.
        And Beatrice:  "The first diving soul,
   That ever the first virtue fram'd, admires
   Within these rays his Maker."  Like the leaf,
   That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown;
   By its own virtue rear'd then stands aloof;
   So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow'd.
   Then eagerness to speak embolden'd me;
   And I began: "O fruit!  that wast alone
   Mature, when first engender'd!  Ancient father!
   That doubly seest in every wedded bride
   Thy daughter by affinity and blood!
   Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold
   Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I,
   More speedily to hear thee, tell it not "
        It chanceth oft some animal bewrays,
   Through the sleek cov'ring of his furry coat.
   The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms
   His outside seeming to the cheer within:
   And in like guise was Adam's spirit mov'd
   To joyous mood, that through the covering shone,
   Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake:
   "No need thy will be told, which I untold
   Better discern, than thou whatever thing
   Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see
   In Him, who is truth's mirror, and Himself
   Parhelion unto all things, and naught else
   To him.  This wouldst thou hear; how long since God
   Plac'd me high garden, from whose hounds
   She led me up in this ladder, steep and long;
   What space endur'd my season of delight;
   Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish'd me;
   And what the language, which I spake and fram'd
   Not that I tasted of the tree, my son,
   Was in itself the cause of that exile,
   But only my transgressing of the mark
   Assign'd me.  There, whence at thy lady's hest
   The Mantuan mov'd him, still was I debarr'd
   This council, till the sun had made complete,
   Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice,
   His annual journey; and, through every light
   In his broad pathway, saw I him return,
   Thousand save sev'nty times, the whilst I dwelt
   Upon the earth.  The language I did use
   Was worn away, or ever Nimrod's race
   Their unaccomplishable work began.
   For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting,
   Left by his reason free, and variable,
   As is the sky that sways him.  That he speaks,
   Is nature's prompting: whether thus or thus,
   She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.
   Ere I descended into hell's abyss,
   El was the name on earth of the Chief Good,
   Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then 't was call'd
   And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use
   Is as the leaf upon the bough; that goes,
   And other comes instead.  Upon the mount
   Most high above the waters, all my life,
   Both innocent and guilty, did but reach
   From the first hour, to that which cometh next
   (As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth.
   CANTO XXVII
   Then  "Glory to the Father, to the Son,
   And to the Holy Spirit," rang aloud
   Throughout all Paradise, that with the song
   My spirit reel'd, so passing sweet the strain:
   And what I saw was equal ecstasy;
   One universal smile it seem'd of all things,
   Joy past compare, gladness unutterable,
   Imperishable life of peace and love,
   Exhaustless riches and unmeasur'd bliss.
        Before mine eyes stood the four torches lit;
   And that, which first had come, began to wax
   In brightness, and in semblance such became,
   As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds,
   And interchang'd their plumes.  Silence ensued,
   Through the blest quire, by Him, who here appoints
   Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin'd;
   When thus I heard: "Wonder not, if my hue
   Be chang'd; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see
   All in like manner change with me.  My place
   He who usurps on earth (my place, ay, mine,
   Which in the presence of the Son of God
   Is void), the same hath made my cemetery
   A common sewer of puddle and of blood:
   The more below his triumph, who from hence
   Malignant fell."  Such colour, as the sun,
   At eve or morning, paints and adverse cloud,
   Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky.
   And as th' unblemish'd dame, who in herself
   Secure of censure, yet at bare report
   Of other's failing, shrinks with maiden fear;
   So Beatrice in her semblance chang'd:
   And such eclipse in heav'n methinks was seen,
   When the Most Holy suffer'd.  Then the words
   Proceeded, with voice, alter'd from itself
   So clean, the semblance did not alter more.
   "Not to this end was Christ's spouse with my blood,
   With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed:
   That she might serve for purchase of base gold:
   But for the purchase of this happy life
   Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed,
   And Urban, they, whose doom was not without
   Much weeping seal'd.  No purpose was of our