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

No longer than what time Latona's twins     Cover'd of Libra and the fleecy star,     Together both, girding the' horizon hang,     In even balance from the zenith pois'd,     Till from that verge, each, changing hemisphere,     Part the nice level; e'en so brief a space     Did Beatrice's silence hold. A smile     Bat painted on her cheek; and her fix'd gaze     Bent on the point, at which my vision fail'd:     When thus her words resuming she began:     "I speak, nor what thou wouldst inquire demand;     For I have mark'd it, where all time and place     Are present. Not for increase to himself     Of good, which may not be increas'd, but forth     To manifest his glory by its beams,     Inhabiting his own eternity,     Beyond time's limit or what bound soe'er     To circumscribe his being, as he will'd,     Into new natures, like unto himself,     Eternal Love unfolded. Nor before,     As if in dull inaction torpid lay.     For not in process of before or aft     Upon these waters mov'd the Spirit of God.     Simple and mix'd, both form and substance, forth     To perfect being started, like three darts     Shot from a bow three-corded. And as ray     In crystal, glass, and amber, shines entire,     E'en at the moment of its issuing; thus     Did, from th' eternal Sovran, beam entire     His threefold operation, at one act     Produc'd coeval. Yet in order each     Created his due station knew: those highest,     Who pure intelligence were made: mere power     The lowest: in the midst, bound with strict league,     Intelligence and power, unsever'd bond.     Long tract of ages by the angels past,     Ere the creating of another world,     Describ'd on Jerome's pages thou hast seen.     But that what I disclose to thee is true,     Those penmen, whom the Holy Spirit mov'd     In many a passage of their sacred book     Attest; as thou by diligent search shalt find     And reason in some sort discerns the same,     Who scarce would grant the heav'nly ministers     Of their perfection void, so long a space.     Thus when and where these spirits of love were made,     Thou know'st, and how: and knowing hast allay'd     Thy thirst, which from the triple question rose.     Ere one had reckon'd twenty, e'en so soon     Part of the angels fell: and in their fall     Confusion to your elements ensued.     The others kept their station: and this task,     Whereon thou lookst, began with such delight,     That they surcease not ever, day nor night,     Their circling. Of that fatal lapse the cause     Was the curst pride of him, whom thou hast seen     Pent with the world's incumbrance. Those, whom here     Thou seest, were lowly to confess themselves     Of his free bounty, who had made them apt     For ministries so high: therefore their views     Were by enlight'ning grace and their own merit     Exalted; so that in their will confirm'd     They stand, nor feel to fall. For do not doubt,     But to receive the grace, which heav'n vouchsafes,     Is meritorious, even as the soul     With prompt affection welcometh the guest.     Now, without further help, if with good heed     My words thy mind have treasur'd, thou henceforth     This consistory round about mayst scan,     And gaze thy fill. But since thou hast on earth     Heard vain disputers, reasoners in the schools,     Canvas the' angelic nature, and dispute     Its powers of apprehension, memory, choice;     Therefore, 't is well thou take from me the truth,     Pure and without disguise, which they below,     Equivocating, darken and perplex.     "Know thou, that, from the first, these substances,     Rejoicing in the countenance of God,     Have held unceasingly their view, intent     Upon the glorious vision, from the which     Naught absent is nor hid: where then no change     Of newness with succession interrupts,     Remembrance there needs none to gather up     Divided thought and images remote     "So that men, thus at variance with the truth     Dream, though their eyes be open; reckless some     Of error; others well aware they err,     To whom more guilt and shame are justly due.     Each the known track of sage philosophy     Deserts, and has a byway of his own:     So much the restless eagerness to shine     And love of singularity prevail.     Yet this, offensive as it is, provokes     Heav'n's anger less, than when the book of God     Is forc'd to yield to man's authority,     Or from its straightness warp'd: no reck'ning made     What blood the sowing of it in the world     Has cost; what favour for himself he wins,     Who meekly clings to it. The aim of all     Is how to shine: e'en they, whose office is     To preach the Gospel, let the gospel sleep,     And pass their own inventions off instead.     One tells, how at Christ's suffering the wan moon     Bent back her steps, and shadow'd o'er the sun     With intervenient disk, as she withdrew:     Another, how the light shrouded itself     Within its tabernacle, and left dark     The Spaniard and the Indian, with the Jew.     Such fables Florence in her pulpit hears,     Bandied about more frequent, than the names     Of Bindi and of Lapi in her streets.     The sheep, meanwhile, poor witless ones, return     From pasture, fed with wind: and what avails     For their excuse, they do not see their harm?     Christ said not to his first conventicle,     'Go forth and preach impostures to the world,'     But gave them truth to build on; and the sound     Was mighty on their lips; nor needed they,     Beside the gospel, other spear or shield,     To aid them in their warfare for the faith.     The preacher now provides himself with store     Of jests and gibes; and, so there be no lack     Of laughter, while he vents them, his big cowl     Distends, and he has won the meed he sought:     Could but the vulgar catch a glimpse the while     Of that dark bird which nestles in his hood,     They scarce would wait to hear the blessing said.     Which now the dotards hold in such esteem,     That every counterfeit, who spreads abroad     The hands of holy promise, finds a throng     Of credulous fools beneath. Saint Anthony     Fattens with this his swine, and others worse     Than swine, who diet at his lazy board,     Paying with unstamp'd metal for their fare.     "But (for we far have wander'd) let us seek     The forward path again; so as the way     Be shorten'd with the time. No mortal tongue     Nor thought of man hath ever reach'd so far,     That of these natures he might count the tribes.     What Daniel of their thousands hath reveal'd     With finite number infinite conceals.     The fountain at whose source these drink their beams,     With light supplies them in as many modes,     As there are splendours, that it shines on: each     According to the virtue it conceives,     Differing in love and sweet affection.     Look then how lofty and how huge in breadth     The' eternal might, which, broken and dispers'd     Over such countless mirrors, yet remains     Whole in itself and one, as at the first."