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 X

• Looking upon His Son with all the Love,
• which both of them eternally breathe forth,
• the Primal and Unutterable Power
• with so great order made whate’er revolves
• through mind or space, that none who look at it
• can ever be without a taste of Him.

• Lift, therefore, Reader, to the heavenly wheels
• thine eyes with me, directly to the region,
• where one of their two motions strikes the other;
• and there begin to contemplate with love
• that Master’s art, who in Himself so loves it,
• that never doth His eye abandon it.
• And now see how from thence the oblique ring,
• which bears the planets with it, branches off,
• to please the world which calls upon them; how,
• in case their path were not thus bent aside,
• in vain would be much virtue in the heavens,
• and dead well nigh all potencies down here;
• and how, if from the straight line, more or less
• removed, it swerved, much in the mundane order
• would lacking be below and up above.

• Now, Reader, on thy bench remain, and what
• is here foretasted, follow out in thought,
• if thou, e’er weary, wouldst be very glad.
• Food have I set before thee; feed thou now
• thyself; because the theme, whose scribe I ’m made,
• unto itself is wresting all my care!

• The greatest of the ministers of Nature,
• which with the power of Heaven imprints the world,
• and with its light measures our time for us,
• joined with the section touched upon above,
• was circling now around the spiral rings,
• wherein it earlier shows itself each day;
• and I was in it, but was not aware
• of my ascent, except as one, before
• a thought has come, is conscious of its coming.

• ’T is Beatrice, who thus from good to better
• conducts one with such swiftness, that her act
• extendeth not through time. In its own self
• how bright must that have been, which in the Sun,
• which I had entered, was not visible
• by color, but by light! Though I on genius,
• practice and art should call, I could not so
• describe it, that it e’er could be imagined;
• but it can be believed, and sight of it
• should be desired! And for such heights if low
• be our imagination, is no wonder;
• for no eye ever reached beyond the sun.

• Such the fourth family here of that Exalted
• Father, who ever states it by revealing
• how He breathes forth, and how He generates.

• And Beatrice began: “Give thanks, give thanks
• unto the Angels’ Sun, who, of His Grace,
• hath raised thee up to this material one!”

• No mortal heart was ever so disposed
• to be devoted, and with all its pleasure
• give itself up to God, as I became
• at those last words of hers; hence all my love
• set itself so on Him, that Beatrice
• in my forgetting mind became eclipsed.
• And she disliked it not, but smiled at it,
• so that the splendor of her laughing eyes
• shared with more things my undivided mind.

• I many keen and dazzling splendors saw,
• who, sweeter voiced than in appearance bright,
• made us a center and themselves a crown.
• Latona’s daughter we behold at times
• thus girded, when so pregnant is the air,
• that it retains the thread that forms her zone.
• Within the court of Heaven, whence I return,
• are many jewels found, so fair and precious,
• that from the Kingdom they may not be moved;
• and of these was the singing of those lights.
• Let him who doth not feather him to fly
• up there, await the dumb for news from thence.

• And then, when singing thus, those burning suns
• had all around us whirled themselves three times,
• like stars, that near unmoving poles revolve,
• ladies they seemed to me, who though not through
• with dancing, yet in silence stop a while, and list
• till they have caught the music’s coming notes.

• In one I heard beginning: “Since the ray
• of Grace, whereby true love is set on fire,
• and afterward, by dint of loving, grows
• and multiplies, is shining in thee so,
• that it conducts thee upward o’er the stairs
• which none without remounting e’er descends;
• he who thy thirst the wine within his flask
• refused, would be no more at liberty,
• than water is which falls not to the sea.

• Thou fain wouldst know what blooms this wreath enflowers
• itself withal, which, circling round her, woos
• the Lady fair who makes thee strong for Heaven.
• One of that holy flock’s young lambs was I,
• which Dominic leads along the path, whereon
• one thriveth well, if one go not astray.

• The nearest on my right here was my brother
• and teacher; he was Albert of Cologne,
• and Thomas of Aquinum I. If thus
• of all the other lights thou wouldst be sure,
• follow behind my speaking with thy face
• revolving upward round the blessèd wreath.

• That other flaming issues from the smile
• of Gratian, who to both the courts of law
• was such a help, that Paradise is pleased.

• The next, who at his side adorns our choir,
• that Peter was, who, like the needy widow,
• offered his treasure up to Holy Church.

• The fifth light, which is fairest in our midst,
• is with such love inspired, that all the world
• down there is hungry to have news of it.
• In it is that great mind, wherein was placed
• wisdom so deep, that if the truth be true,
• no second hath arisen to see so much.

• See next to it that candle’s light which saw
• most inwardly, when in the flesh below,
• the Angels’ nature and their ministry.

• In the next little light that advocate
• of Christian times is smiling, of whose work
• in Latin Augustine availed himself.

• If now thy mind’s eye thou art moving on,
• from light to light, behind my words of praise,
• thou now remainest thirsting for the eighth.
• Because it sees all good things, therewithin
• that holy soul rejoices, which reveals
• the cheating world to one who hears him well.
• Down yonder in Cieldauro lies the body,
• from which this soul was driv’n; and to this peace
• from martyrdom and banishment it came.

• Flaming beyond it see the burning breath
• of Isidore, of Bede, and of Riccardo,
• who was in speculation more than man.

• And this, from whom thy glance returns to me,
• the light is of a spirit, unto whom,
• in deep thoughts lost, it seemed that death came slowly.
• This is the light eternal of Sigièri,
• who, when he lectured in the Street of Straw,
• proved by his syllogisms displeasing truths.

• Then like a clock, which calls us at the hour,
• at which the Bride of God awakes to sing
• her Spouse a morning-song, and win His love,
• and as one part or draws or drives the other,
• and sounds ‘Ting, ting’ with such delightful notes,
• that spirits well disposed are filled with love;
• even so I saw that glorious circle move,
• and fuse its voices in a harmony,
• and with a sweetness, which can not be known,
• except where joy is self-eternalized.