But who bethinks him that the living seals Of every beauty grow in power ascending, And that I there had not turned round to those, Can me excuse, if I myself accuse To excuse myself, and see that I speak truly: For here the holy joy is not disclosed, Because ascending it becomes more pure. Paradiso: Canto XV A will benign, in which reveals itself Ever the love that righteously inspires, As in the iniquitous, cupidity, Silence imposed upon that dulcet lyre, And quieted the consecrated chords, That Heaven’s right hand doth tighten and relax. How unto just entreaties shall be deaf Those substances, which, to give me desire Of praying them, with one accord grew silent? ’Tis well that without end he should lament, Who for the love of thing that doth not last Eternally despoils him of that love! As through the pure and tranquil evening air There shoots from time to time a sudden fire, Moving the eyes that steadfast were before, And seems to be a star that changeth place, Except that in the part where it is kindled Nothing is missed, and this endureth little; So from the horn that to the right extends Unto that cross’s foot there ran a star Out of the constellation shining there; Nor was the gem dissevered from its ribbon, But down the radiant fillet ran along, So that fire seemed it behind alabaster. Thus piteous did Anchises’ shade reach forward, If any faith our greatest Muse deserve, When in Elysium he his son perceived. “O sanguis meus, O superinfusa Gratia Dei, sicut tibi, cui Bis unquam Coeli janua reclusa?” Thus that effulgence; whence I gave it heed; Then round unto my Lady turned my sight, And on this side and that was stupefied; For in her eyes was burning such a smile That with mine own methought I touched the bottom Both of my grace and of my Paradise! Then, pleasant to the hearing and the sight, The spirit joined to its beginning things I understood not, so profound it spake; Nor did it hide itself from me by choice, But by necessity; for its conception Above the mark of mortals set itself. And when the bow of burning sympathy Was so far slackened, that its speech descended Towards the mark of our intelligence, The first thing that was understood by me Was “Benedight be Thou, O Trine and One, Who hast unto my seed so courteous been!” And it continued: “Hunger long and grateful, Drawn from the reading of the mighty volume Wherein is never changed the white nor dark, Thou hast appeased, my son, within this light In which I speak to thee, by grace of her Who to this lofty flight with plumage clothed thee. Thou thinkest that to me thy thought doth pass From Him who is the first, as from the unit, If that be known, ray out the five and six;