Part 31

And I, whom a new thirst still goaded on, Without was mute, and said within: “Perchance The too much questioning I make annoys him.”

But that true Father, who had comprehended The timid wish, that opened not itself, By speaking gave me hardihood to speak.

Whence I: “My sight is, Master, vivified So in thy light, that clearly I discern Whate’er thy speech importeth or describes.

Therefore I thee entreat, sweet Father dear, To teach me love, to which thou dost refer Every good action and its contrary.”

“Direct,” he said, “towards me the keen eyes Of intellect, and clear will be to thee The error of the blind, who would be leaders.

The soul, which is created apt to love, Is mobile unto everything that pleases, Soon as by pleasure she is waked to action.

Your apprehension from some real thing An image draws, and in yourselves displays it So that it makes the soul turn unto it.

And if, when turned, towards it she incline, Love is that inclination; it is nature, Which is by pleasure bound in you anew

Then even as the fire doth upward move By its own form, which to ascend is born, Where longest in its matter it endures,

So comes the captive soul into desire, Which is a motion spiritual, and ne’er rests Until she doth enjoy the thing beloved.

Now may apparent be to thee how hidden The truth is from those people, who aver All love is in itself a laudable thing;

Because its matter may perchance appear Aye to be good; but yet not each impression Is good, albeit good may be the wax.”

“Thy words, and my sequacious intellect,” I answered him, “have love revealed to me; But that has made me more impregned with doubt;

For if love from without be offered us, And with another foot the soul go not, If right or wrong she go, ’tis not her merit.”

And he to me: “What reason seeth here, Myself can tell thee; beyond that await For Beatrice, since ’tis a work of faith.

Every substantial form, that segregate From matter is, and with it is united, Specific power has in itself collected,

Which without act is not perceptible, Nor shows itself except by its effect, As life does in a plant by the green leaves.

But still, whence cometh the intelligence Of the first notions, man is ignorant, And the affection for the first allurements,

Which are in you as instinct in the bee To make its honey; and this first desire Merit of praise or blame containeth not.

Now, that to this all others may be gathered, Innate within you is the power that counsels, And it should keep the threshold of assent.

This is the principle, from which is taken Occasion of desert in you, according As good and guilty loves it takes and winnows.

Those who, in reasoning, to the bottom went, Were of this innate liberty aware, Therefore bequeathed they Ethics to the world.

Supposing, then, that from necessity Springs every love that is within you kindled, Within yourselves the power is to restrain it.

The noble virtue Beatrice understands By the free will; and therefore see that thou Bear it in mind, if she should speak of it.”

The moon, belated almost unto midnight, Now made the stars appear to us more rare, Formed like a bucket, that is all ablaze,

And counter to the heavens ran through those paths Which the sun sets aflame, when he of Rome Sees it ’twixt Sardes and Corsicans go down;

And that patrician shade, for whom is named Pietola more than any Mantuan town, Had laid aside the burden of my lading;

Whence I, who reason manifest and plain In answer to my questions had received, Stood like a man in drowsy reverie.