Nor did more love cause me to be more ready,
For love as much and more up there is burning,
As doth the flaming manifest to thee.

But the high charity, that makes us servants

Prompt to the counsel which controls the world,
Allotteth here, even as thou dost observe."

"I see full well,” said I, “O sacred lamp!
How love unfettered in this court sufficeth
To follow the eternal Providence ;
But this is what seems hard for me to see,

Wherefore predestinate wast thou alone
Unto this office from among thy consorts."
No sooner had I come to the last word,

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Than of its middle made the light a centre,
Whirling itself about like a swift millstone.

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Then answer made the love that was therein :

"On me directed is a light divine,

Piercing through this in which I am embosomed,

Of which the virtue with my sight conjoined

Lifts me above myself so far, I see

The supreme essence from which this is drawn.
Hence comes the joyfulness with which I flame,
For to my sight, as far as it is clear,

The clearness of the flame I equal make.

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But that soul in the heaven which is most pure,
That Seraph which his eye on God most fixes,
Could this demand of thine not satisfy;
Because so deeply sinks in the abyss

Of the eternal statute what thou askest,

From all created sight it is cut off.

And to the mortal world, when thou returnest,
This carry back, that it may not presume
Longer tow'rd such a goal to move its feet.
The mind, that shineth here, on earth doth smoke;
From this observe how can it do below

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That which it cannot though the heaven assume it?"

Such limit did its words prescribe to me,

The question I relinquished, and restricted
Myself to ask it humbly who it was.
"Between two shores of Italy rise cliffs,

And not far distant from thy native place,
So high, the thunders far below them sound,
And form a ridge that Catria is called,

'Neath which is consecrate a hermitage

Wont to be dedicate to worship only."

Thus unto me the third speech recommenced,
And then, continuing, it said: "Therein
Unto God's service I became so steadfast,

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That feeding only on the juice of olives

Lightly I passed away the heats and frosts, Contented in my thoughts contemplative. That cloister used to render to these heavens Abundantly, and now is empty grown,

So that perforce it soon must be revealed. I in that place was Peter Damiano;

And Peter the Sinner was I in the house

Of Our Lady on the Adriatic shore.

Little of mortal life remained to me,

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When I was called and dragged forth to the hat 125
Which shifteth evermore from bad to worse.

Came Cephas, and the mighty Vessel came

Of the Holy Spirit, meagre and barefooted,
Taking the food of any hostelry.

Now some one to support them on each side

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The modern shepherds need, and some to lead them,
So heavy are they, and to hold their trains.
They cover up their palfreys with their cloaks,
So that two beasts go underneath one skin;
O Patience, that dost tolerate so much!"
At this voice saw I many little flames

From step to step descending and revolving,
every revolution made them fairer.

And

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Round about this one came they and stood still,

And a cry uttered of so loud a sound,

It here could find no parallel, nor I

Distinguished it, the thunder so o'ercame me.

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CANTO XXII.

OPPRESSED with stupor, I unto my guide

Turned like a little child who always runs
For refuge there where he confideth most;
And she, even as a mother who straightway

Gives comfort to her pale and breathless boy
With voice whose wont it is to reassure him,
Said to me: "Knowest thou not thou art in heaven,
And knowest thou not that heaven is holy all,
And what is done here cometh from good zeal?
After what wise the singing would have changed thee

And I by smiling, thou canst now imagine,
Since that the cry has startled thee so much,
In which if thou hadst understood its prayers
Already would be known to thee the vengeance
Which thou shalt look upon before thou diest.

The sword above here smiteth not in haste
Nor tardily, howe'er it seem to him
Who fearing or desiring waits for it.

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