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Part 14

Divine Comedy, Longfellow's Translation, Paradise · 1265-1321 Dante Alighieri — chapter 14 of 60 · ~657 words · public domain

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O how and how much I beheld it grow With the new joy that superadded was Unto its joys, as soon as I had spoken!

Thus changed, it said to me: “The world possessed me Short time below; and, if it had been more, Much evil will be which would not have been.

My gladness keepeth me concealed from thee, Which rayeth round about me, and doth hide me Like as a creature swathed in its own silk.

Much didst thou love me, and thou hadst good reason; For had I been below, I should have shown thee Somewhat beyond the foliage of my love.

That left-hand margin, which doth bathe itself In Rhone, when it is mingled with the Sorgue, Me for its lord awaited in due time,

And that horn of Ausonia, which is towned With Bari, with Gaeta and Catona, Whence Tronto and Verde in the sea disgorge.

Already flashed upon my brow the crown Of that dominion which the Danube waters After the German borders it abandons;

And beautiful Trinacria, that is murky ’Twixt Pachino and Peloro, (on the gulf Which greatest scath from Eurus doth receive,)

Not through Typhoeus, but through nascent sulphur, Would have awaited her own monarchs still, Through me from Charles descended and from Rudolph,

If evil lordship, that exasperates ever The subject populations, had not moved Palermo to the outcry of ‘Death! death!’

And if my brother could but this foresee, The greedy poverty of Catalonia Straight would he flee, that it might not molest him;

For verily ’tis needful to provide, Through him or other, so that on his bark Already freighted no more freight be placed.

His nature, which from liberal covetous Descended, such a soldiery would need As should not care for hoarding in a chest.”

“Because I do believe the lofty joy Thy speech infuses into me, my Lord, Where every good thing doth begin and end

Thou seest as I see it, the more grateful Is it to me; and this too hold I dear, That gazing upon God thou dost discern it.

Glad hast thou made me; so make clear to me, Since speaking thou hast stirred me up to doubt, How from sweet seed can bitter issue forth.”

This I to him; and he to me: “If I Can show to thee a truth, to what thou askest Thy face thou’lt hold as thou dost hold thy back.

The Good which all the realm thou art ascending Turns and contents, maketh its providence To be a power within these bodies vast;

And not alone the natures are foreseen Within the mind that in itself is perfect, But they together with their preservation.

For whatsoever thing this bow shoots forth Falls foreordained unto an end foreseen, Even as a shaft directed to its mark.

If that were not, the heaven which thou dost walk Would in such manner its effects produce, That they no longer would be arts, but ruins.

This cannot be, if the Intelligences That keep these stars in motion are not maimed, And maimed the First that has not made them perfect.

Wilt thou this truth have clearer made to thee?” And I: “Not so; for ’tis impossible That nature tire, I see, in what is needful.”

Whence he again: “Now say, would it be worse For men on earth were they not citizens?” “Yes,” I replied; “and here I ask no reason.”

“And can they be so, if below they live not Diversely unto offices diverse? No, if your master writeth well for you.”

So came he with deductions to this point; Then he concluded: “Therefore it behoves The roots of your effects to be diverse.

Hence one is Solon born, another Xerxes, Another Melchisedec, and another he Who, flying through the air, his son did lose.

Revolving Nature, which a signet is To mortal wax, doth practise well her art, But not one inn distinguish from another;

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