Part 152

And as the sound upon the cithern’s neck Taketh its form, and as upon the vent Of rustic pipe the wind that enters it,

Even thus, relieved from the delay of waiting, That murmuring of the eagle mounted up Along its neck, as if it had been hollow.

There it became a voice, and issued thence From out its beak, in such a form of words As the heart waited for wherein I wrote them.

“The part in me which sees and bears the sun In mortal eagles,” it began to me, “Now fixedly must needs be looked upon;

For of the fires of which I make my figure, Those whence the eye doth sparkle in my head Of all their orders the supremest are.

He who is shining in the midst as pupil Was once the singer of the Holy Spirit, Who bore the ark from city unto city;

Now knoweth he the merit of his song, In so far as effect of his own counsel, By the reward which is commensurate.

Of five, that make a circle for my brow, He that approacheth nearest to my beak Did the poor widow for her son console;

Now knoweth he how dearly it doth cost Not following Christ, by the experience Of this sweet life and of its opposite.

He who comes next in the circumference Of which I speak, upon its highest arc, Did death postpone by penitence sincere;

Now knoweth he that the eternal judgment Suffers no change, albeit worthy prayer Maketh below to-morrow of to-day.

The next who follows, with the laws and me, Under the good intent that bore bad fruit Became a Greek by ceding to the pastor;

Now knoweth he how all the ill deduced From his good action is not harmful to him, Although the world thereby may be destroyed.

And he, whom in the downward arc thou seest, Guglielmo was, whom the same land deplores That weepeth Charles and Frederick yet alive;

Now knoweth he how heaven enamoured is With a just king; and in the outward show Of his effulgence he reveals it still.

Who would believe, down in the errant world, That e’er the Trojan Ripheus in this round Could be the fifth one of the holy lights?

Now knoweth he enough of what the world Has not the power to see of grace divine, Although his sight may not discern the bottom.”

Like as a lark that in the air expatiates, First singing and then silent with content Of the last sweetness that doth satisfy her,

Such seemed to me the image of the imprint Of the eternal pleasure, by whose will Doth everything become the thing it is.

And notwithstanding to my doubt I was As glass is to the colour that invests it, To wait the time in silence it endured not,

But forth from out my mouth, “What things are these?” Extorted with the force of its own weight; Whereat I saw great joy of coruscation.

Thereafterward with eye still more enkindled The blessed standard made to me reply, To keep me not in wonderment suspended:

“I see that thou believest in these things Because I say them, but thou seest not how; So that, although believed in, they are hidden.

Thou doest as he doth who a thing by name Well apprehendeth, but its quiddity Cannot perceive, unless another show it.

‘Regnum coelorum’ suffereth violence From fervent love, and from that living hope That overcometh the Divine volition;

Not in the guise that man o’ercometh man, But conquers it because it will be conquered, And conquered conquers by benignity.

The first life of the eyebrow and the fifth Cause thee astonishment, because with them Thou seest the region of the angels painted.

They passed not from their bodies, as thou thinkest, Gentiles, but Christians in the steadfast faith Of feet that were to suffer and had suffered.