“Well see I, father mine, how spurreth on The time towards me such a blow to deal me As heaviest is to him who most gives way. Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me, That, if the dearest place be taken from me, I may not lose the others by my songs. Down through the world of infinite bitterness, And o’er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit The eyes of my own Lady lifted me, And afterward through heaven from light to light, I have learned that which, if I tell again, Will be a savour of strong herbs to many. And if I am a timid friend to truth, I fear lest I may lose my life with those Who will hereafter call this time the olden.” The light in which was smiling my own treasure Which there I had discovered, flashed at first As in the sunshine doth a golden mirror; Then made reply: “A conscience overcast Or with its own or with another’s shame, Will taste forsooth the tartness of thy word; But ne’ertheless, all falsehood laid aside, Make manifest thy vision utterly, And let them scratch wherever is the itch; For if thine utterance shall offensive be At the first taste, a vital nutriment ’Twill leave thereafter, when it is digested. This cry of thine shall do as doth the wind, Which smiteth most the most exalted summits, And that is no slight argument of honour. Therefore are shown to thee within these wheels, Upon the mount and in the dolorous valley, Only the souls that unto fame are known; Because the spirit of the hearer rests not, Nor doth confirm its faith by an example Which has the root of it unknown and hidden, Or other reason that is not apparent.” Paradiso: Canto XVIII Now was alone rejoicing in its word That soul beatified, and I was tasting My own, the bitter tempering with the sweet, And the Lady who to God was leading me Said: “Change thy thought; consider that I am Near unto Him who every wrong disburdens.” Unto the loving accents of my comfort I turned me round, and then what love I saw Within those holy eyes I here relinquish; Not only that my language I distrust, But that my mind cannot return so far Above itself, unless another guide it. Thus much upon that point can I repeat, That, her again beholding, my affection From every other longing was released. While the eternal pleasure, which direct Rayed upon Beatrice, from her fair face Contented me with its reflected aspect, Conquering me with the radiance of a smile, She said to me, “Turn thee about and listen; Not in mine eyes alone is Paradise.” Even as sometimes here do we behold The affection in the look, if it be such That all the soul is wrapt away by it, So, by the flaming of the effulgence holy To which I turned, I recognized therein The wish of speaking to me somewhat farther.