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Authors: Dante

BOOK: Paradiso
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PARADISO XII

               
As soon as the blessèd flame   

               
had spoken its last word

3
             
the holy millstone once again began to wheel,   

               
and had not yet come full around   

   

               
before another circle closed it in,

6
             
matching it motion for motion, song for song,   

               
song that, heard from such sweet instruments,   

               
as far excels our muses and our sirens

9
             
as a first shining its reflected rays.   

               
As twin rainbows, parallel in shape and color,   

   

               
arc in their pathway through translucent clouds   

12
           
when Juno gives the order to her handmaid—

               
the outer one born of the inner,   

               
like the voice of that wandering nymph   

15
           
whom love consumed as the sun does vapors—

               
and allow the people here on earth to know the future

               
because of the covenant God made with Noah,

18
           
that the world would not again be flooded,   

               
so the two wreaths of those eternal roses

               
circled all around us and, thus reflected,

21
           
the outer circle shone in answer to the inner.

               
When the dance and all the other celebration—   

               
the singing and the brilliant blaze of flames,

24
           
light with light blent in ardent joy—

               
came to a stop together and of one accord,

               
as eyes, when beauty moves them,   

27
           
must open wide or close as one,

               
from the core of one of these new lights,

               
as the North Star makes a compass needle veer,

30
           
rose a voice that made me turn to where it came from.

               
And it began: ‘The love that makes me beautiful   

               
bids me, in turn, to laud that other leader

33
           
because of whom my own has won such praise.

               
‘It is fitting that, in naming one, we name the other   

               
so that, just as they were joined as one in combat   

36
           
with a single goal, their fame should shine as one.

               
‘Rearmed at such high cost, the troops of Christ   

   

               
moved with halting steps behind the standard,   

39
           
full of doubt and few in number,

               
‘when the Emperor who reigns forever   

   

               
provided for His soldiers in their peril—

42
           
only of His grace, not for their merit—

               
‘and, as was said, gave comfort to His bride   

               
through these two champions, whose deeds and words   

45
           
brought together the scattered people.

               
‘In that place where gentle Zephyr’s breath   

   

               
rises to open the unfolding leaves   

48
           
in which Europe sees herself reclad,

               
‘not far from the pounding waves   

               
beyond which the sun, having finished his long course,

51
           
sometimes hides himself from human sight,

               
‘favored Calaroga lies   

               
behind the shelter of the noble shield   

54
           
that shows one lion in defeat and one in triumph.

               
‘In that town was born the amorous lover   

               
of the Christian faith, the holy athlete,   

57
           
gentle to his own and savage to his foes.   

               
‘His mind, at the moment of its making,   

               
was so full of living power that,

60
           
yet in his mother’s womb, he made of her a prophet.

               
‘After his nuptials with the Faith

               
were celebrated at the holy font   

63
           
at which each dowered the other’s safety,   

               
‘the lady who offered her assent for his   

               
saw in a dream the admirable fruit

66
           
destined to spring from him and from his heirs.

               
‘And, that he might be known as what he was indeed,   

   

               
a spirit from Heaven came and named him   

69
           
from the possessive form of Him whose he already was.

               
‘He was called Dominic, and I shall speak of him

               
as that laborer chosen by Christ   

   

72
           
to help Him dress and keep His garden.

               
‘He seemed indeed a messenger and intimate of Christ,

               
since the first love made manifest in him   

75
           
was for the initial precept taught by Christ.

               
‘Many a time did his nurse find him   

               
awake and silent on the ground,

78
           
as if he said, “It is for this I have come.”

               
‘O happy father, indeed Felix!   

               
O blessèd mother, indeed Giovanna,   

81
           
if, rightly construed, her name means what they say!

               
‘Not for this world, for which men toil today,   

   

               
following Taddeo and the Ostian,

84
           
but for love of the true manna,

               
‘he soon became a teacher so renowned

               
that he began to travel through the vineyard,

87
           
which quickly withers if the keeper is corrupt.   

               
‘And to the papal seat, not now as benevolent   

   

               
to the upright poor as it was once—not flawed in itself,

90
           
but degenerate in its occupant—he made appeal,

               
‘not to give away just two or three instead of six,   

               
not for his chance at the first vacancy,

93
           
not for the
decimas, quae sunt pauperum Dei,
   

               
‘but for the privilege of fighting

               
against the errors of the world, thus to preserve the seed   

96
           
of the twenty-four plants now wreathing you in light.   

               
‘Then, both with learning and with zeal,   

               
secure in apostolic office, he went forth,   

99
           
like a torrent gushing from its lofty source,

               
‘and fell upon the tangled weeds of heresy,

               
attacking with his overwhelming force   

102
         
wherever the resistance was most stubborn.

               
‘From him there sprang still other streams   

               
from which the Catholic garden draws its moisture,

105
         
so that its saplings grow with greater vigor.

               
‘If such was one of the wheels of the chariot   

               
used by Holy Church in self-defense

108
         
to overcome the rebels in the field,

               
‘surely the excellence of that other’

               
about whom Thomas spoke so courteously

111
         
before I came, must be well known to you.

               
‘But the track left by the outer rim   

               
of its circumference is abandoned,

114
         
so that where once was crust, there now is mold.   

               
‘His family, which started out setting their feet   

               
upon his footprints, is now turned backward,

117
         
setting their toes where once they placed their heels.   

               
‘Soon that harvest of bad tillage   

               
shall occur, when the tares complain

120
         
that the barn is shut against them.

               
‘I readily admit that, should one search our volume

               
leaf by leaf, one still could find some pages   

123
         
where one might read, “What once I was, I am.”

               
‘But these will not come from Casale or Acquasparta,   

               
for those from there come to the Rule   

126
         
either to flee it or constrict it further.

               
‘I am the living soul of Bonaventura   

   

               
from Bagnoregio, who in great office

129
         
ever put last the left-hand care.   

               
‘Here are Illuminato and Augustine,   

               
among the first brothers barefoot in poverty,

132
         
who, with the cord, became God’s friends.   

               
‘Here with them is Hugh of St. Victor,   

               
Peter the Bookworm, and Peter the Spaniard—   

   

135
         
who casts light from his twelve books below,

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