The Divine Comedy by Dante: The Vision Of Paradise: Canto IV

Between two kinds of food, both equally     Remote and tempting, first a man might die     Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose.     E'en so would stand a lamb between the maw     Of two fierce wolves, in dread of both alike:     E'en so between two deer a dog would stand,     Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise     I to myself impute, by equal doubts     Held in suspense, since of necessity     It happen'd. Silent was I, yet desire     Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake     My wish more earnestly than language could.     As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed     From ire, that spurr'd him on to deeds unjust     And violent; so look'd Beatrice then.     "Well I discern," she thus her words address'd,     "How contrary desires each way constrain thee,     So that thy anxious thought is in itself     Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth.     Thou arguest; if the good intent remain;     What reason that another's violence     Should stint the measure of my fair desert?     "Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems,     That spirits to the stars, as Plato deem'd,     Return. These are the questions which thy will     Urge equally; and therefore I the first     Of that will treat which hath the more of gall.     Of seraphim he who is most ensky'd,     Moses and Samuel, and either John,     Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary's self,     Have not in any other heav'n their seats,     Than have those spirits which so late thou saw'st;     Nor more or fewer years exist; but all     Make the first circle beauteous, diversely     Partaking of sweet life, as more or less     Afflation of eternal bliss pervades them.     Here were they shown thee, not that fate assigns     This for their sphere, but for a sign to thee     Of that celestial furthest from the height.     Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak:     Since from things sensible alone ye learn     That, which digested rightly after turns     To intellectual. For no other cause     The scripture, condescending graciously     To your perception, hands and feet to God     Attributes, nor so means: and holy church     Doth represent with human countenance     Gabriel, and Michael, and him who made     Tobias whole. Unlike what here thou seest,     The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms     Each soul restor'd to its particular star,     Believing it to have been taken thence,     When nature gave it to inform her mold:     Since to appearance his intention is     E'en what his words declare: or else to shun     Derision, haply thus he hath disguis'd     His true opinion. If his meaning be,     That to the influencing of these orbs revert     The honour and the blame in human acts,     Perchance he doth not wholly miss the truth.     This principle, not understood aright,     Erewhile perverted well nigh all the world;     So that it fell to fabled names of Jove,     And Mercury, and Mars. That other doubt,     Which moves thee, is less harmful; for it brings     No peril of removing thee from me.     "That, to the eye of man, our justice seems     Unjust, is argument for faith, and not     For heretic declension. To the end     This truth may stand more clearly in your view,     I will content thee even to thy wish     "If violence be, when that which suffers, nought     Consents to that which forceth, not for this     These spirits stood exculpate. For the will,     That will not, still survives unquench'd, and doth     As nature doth in fire, tho' violence     Wrest it a thousand times; for, if it yield     Or more or less, so far it follows force.     And thus did these, whom they had power to seek     The hallow'd place again. In them, had will     Been perfect, such as once upon the bars     Held Laurence firm, or wrought in Scaevola     To his own hand remorseless, to the path,     Whence they were drawn, their steps had hasten'd back,     When liberty return'd: but in too few     Resolve so steadfast dwells. And by these words     If duly weigh'd, that argument is void,     Which oft might have perplex'd thee still. But now     Another question thwarts thee, which to solve     Might try thy patience without better aid.     I have, no doubt, instill'd into thy mind,     That blessed spirit may not lie; since near     The source of primal truth it dwells for aye:     And thou might'st after of Piccarda learn     That Constance held affection to the veil;     So that she seems to contradict me here.     Not seldom, brother, it hath chanc'd for men     To do what they had gladly left undone,     Yet to shun peril they have done amiss:     E'en as Alcmaeon, at his father's suit     Slew his own mother, so made pitiless     Not to lose pity. On this point bethink thee,     That force and will are blended in such wise     As not to make the' offence excusable.     Absolute will agrees not to the wrong,     That inasmuch as there is fear of woe     From non-compliance, it agrees. Of will     Thus absolute Piccarda spake, and I     Of th' other; so that both have truly said."     Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well'd     From forth the fountain of all truth; and such     The rest, that to my wond'ring thoughts I found.     "O thou of primal love the prime delight!     Goddess!" I straight reply'd, "whose lively words     Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul!     Affection fails me to requite thy grace     With equal sum of gratitude: be his     To recompense, who sees and can reward thee.     Well I discern, that by that truth alone     Enlighten'd, beyond which no truth may roam,     Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know:     Therein she resteth, e'en as in his lair     The wild beast, soon as she hath reach'd that bound,     And she hath power to reach it; else desire     Were given to no end. And thence doth doubt     Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth;     And it is nature which from height to height     On to the summit prompts us. This invites,     This doth assure me, lady, rev'rently     To ask thee of other truth, that yet     Is dark to me. I fain would know, if man     By other works well done may so supply     The failure of his vows, that in your scale     They lack not weight." I spake; and on me straight     Beatrice look'd with eyes that shot forth sparks     Of love celestial in such copious stream,     That, virtue sinking in me overpower'd,     I turn'd, and downward bent confus'd my sight.