The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• The Trinity of Love
• Preface
• Paradiso I
• Paradiso Ii
• Paradiso Iii
• Paradiso Iv
• Paradiso V
• Paradiso Vi
• Paradiso Vii
• Paradiso Viii
• Paradiso Ix
• Paradiso X
• Paradiso Xi
• Paradiso Xii
• Paradiso Xiii
• Paradiso Xiv
• Paradiso Xv
• Paradiso Xvi
• Paradiso Xvii
• Paradiso Xviii
• Paradiso Xix
• Paradiso Xx
• Paradiso Xxi
• Paradiso Xxii
• Paradiso Xxiii
• Paradiso Xxiv
• Paradiso Xxv
• Paradiso Xxvi
• Paradiso Xxvii
• Paradiso Xxviii
• Paradiso Xxix
• Paradiso Xxx
• Paradiso Xxxi
• Paradiso Xxxii
• Paradiso Xxxiii

PARADISO IV

• A free man, ’tween two viands equally
• attractive and removed, would die of hunger,
• before he carried either to his teeth;
• thus would a lamb, between the ravenings
• of two fierce wolves, keep fearing each alike;
• thus would a dog remain between two does.

• Hence, by my doubts impelled in equal measure,
• if I was silent, I reproach me not,
• nor do I praise, since thus it had to be.
• I held my peace; but my desire was painted
• upon my face, and far more warmly thus
• I asked, than had it been by uttered speech.

• Hence Beatrice did ev’n as Daniel once,
• when in Nebuchadnezzar he appeased
• the wrath, which had unjustly made him cruel;
• and “Clearly do I see” she said, “how both
• thy wishes so attract thee, that thy thought
• is so self-bound, that it is not expressed.
• Thou arguest thus: ‘If my good will endure,
• why doth the violence of others cause
• the measure of my merit to be less?’

• Again it gives thee cause for doubt, that souls
• seem to return unto the stars again,
• according to the opinion Plato held.
• These are the questions which upon thy will
• are thrusting equally; I’ll hence deal first
• with that one which hath most of venom for thee.

• Of all the Seraphs he who most in-Gods
• himself, or Moses, Samuel, or, I say,
• whichever John thou choose, or even Mary,
• have in no other heaven their seats, than have
• those spirits which appeared to thee just now,
• nor for their being more or fewer years;
• but all make beautiful the highest sphere,
• and each in different ways enjoys sweet life,
• through feeling more and less the Eternal Breath.
• They did not here reveal themselves, because
• this special sphere had been allotted them,
• but to express the lowest heavenly state.

• Thus must one speak to your intelligence,
• since only from sense-objects can it learn
• what it thereafter fits for understanding.
• Because of this the Scriptures condescend
• to your capacity, and feet and hands
• ascribe to God, and yet mean something else;
• and Holy Church in human form presents
• Gabriel and Michael to you, and the other,
• who to Tobias once restored his health.

• That which Timaeus teaches of the soul
• is not like that which one up here beholds,
• for, as he says it, so he seems to mean.
• He says that each soul to its star returns,
• because he thinks that it was severed thence,
• when Nature granted it as form; and yet
• his doctrine is, perhaps, of other guise,
• than what his words imply, and may possess
• a meaning which is not to be despised.
• In case he mean that to these wheel-like spheres
• returns their influence’s praise or blame,
• his bow may hit, perhaps, upon a truth.
• This principle, ill understood, once turned
• nigh all the world awry, so that, in naming
• Jove, Mercury and Mars, it went astray.

• The other doubt whereby thy mind is stirred,
• less venom hath, because its harmfulness
• could not conduct thee elsewhere from my side.
• That this our Justice should appear to be
• unjust in the eyes of mortals, argues faith,
• and not heretical depravity.
• But here, because your human understanding
• can penetrate this truth with ease, I’ll now,
• as thou desirest, render thee content.

• If violence it be, when he who suffers
• contributes naught to him who uses force,
• these souls were not excused because of that;

• for will, unless it willeth, is not quenched,
• but acts as Nature acts in fire, though turned
• a thousand times aside by violence;
• for, whether it be bent or much or little,
• it yieldeth to the force; and so did these,
• when able to regain the holy place.
• For if their will had been as absolute
• as that which held Lorenzo on his grate,
• or that which to his hand made Mutius cruel,
• it would, as soon as freed, have urged them back
• along the road o’er which they once were dragged;
• but wills as firm as that are very rare!
• And by these words, if thou hast gathered them,
• as it behooved thee to, that doubt is quashed,
• which often would have troubled thee again.

• But now athwart thine eyes another pass
• appears, one such, that from it by thyself
• thou wouldst not issue, but wouldst weary first.
• I surely have instilled this in thy mind,
• that spirits who are happy could not lie,
• since such are always near the Primal Truth;
• yet from Piccarda thou mayst next have heard
• that Constance for the veil retained her love;
• she, therefore, seems to contradict me here.
• Oft hath it happened, brother, heretofore,
• that, to escape from danger, one has done,
• against one’s will, what was not right to do;

• as, at his father’s hest, Alcmaeon did,
• who impious made himself, his mother killing,
• in order not to fail in piety.
• In such a case I’d have thee think that force
• mingles with will, and that they so behave,
• that sinful actions cannot be excused.
• Absolute will consenteth not to wrong,
• but in so far consenteth, as it fears,
• unless it yield, to be more greatly harmed.
• Hence, when Piccarda puts the matter thus,
• she means it of the will that ’s absolute,
• and of the other I; hence both speak true.

• Such was the rippling of the holy stream,
• which issued from the Fount whence every truth
• derives; and such, it set both doubts at rest.

• “O thou belovèd of the Primal Lover,
• O goddess,” said I then, “whose speech both warms
• and inundates me so, that more and more
• it quickens me with life, not deep enough
• is mỳ love to return thee grace for grace;
• but let Who sees and can, provide for this.
• I well see that our mind is never sated,
• unless it be illumined by the Truth,
• outside of which no truth extends. Therein
• it rests, as doth a wild beast in its lair,
• as soon as it attains it; and it can
• attain it; else would all desires be vain.

• Hence like a shoot doubt rises at the foot
• of truth; and this is Nature, which from height
• to height impels us toward the mountain’s top.

• This biddeth me, and this assurance gives me,
• Lady, with reverence to inquire of you
• about another truth that ’s dark to me.
• I wish to know if one can so content you
• for broken vows by means of other things,
• that these shall not prove light upon your scales.”

• Then Beatrice looked at me with her eyes
• filled so divinely with the sparks of love,
• that, overcome, my vision turned in flight,
• and I with bowed eyes almost lost myself.