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The Heroic Enthusiast, Part II (Gli Eroici Furori) - An Ethical Poem
by Giordano Bruno
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[R] For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face.—("St. Paul to the Corinthians.")

He sees Amphitrite, the source of all numbers, of all species, of all reasons, which is the monad, the real essence of the being of all, and if he does not see it in its essence, in absolute light, he sees it in its seed, which is like unto it, which is its image; for from the monad, which is the divinity, proceeds this monad which is nature, the universe, the world, where it is beheld and reflected, as the sun is in the moon by means of which it is illuminated;[S] he finding himself in the hemisphere of intellectual substances. This is that Diana, that one who is the same entity, that entity which is comprehensible nature, in which burns the sun and the splendour of the higher nature, according to which, unity is both the generated and the generating, the producer and produced. Thus you can of yourself determine the mode, the dignity, and the success, which are most worthy of the hunter and the hunted. Therefore the enthusiast boasts of being the prey of Diana, to whom he rendered himself, and of whom he considers himself the accepted consort, and happy as a captive and a subject. Why, he envies no man (for there is none that can have more) or any other god that can have that species which is impossible to be obtained by an inferior nature, and therefore is not worthy to be desired, nor can one hunger after it.

[S] There is no potentiality for creation, or self-consciousness, in a pure Spirit on this our plane, unless its too homogeneous, perfect, because Divine, nature is, so to say, mixed with, and strengthened by, an essence already differentiated. It is only the lower line of the Triangle—representing the first triad that emanates from the Universal Monad—that can furnish this needed consciousness on the plane of differentiated Nature.—("The Secret Doctrine.")

CES. I have well understood all that you have said, and you have more than satisfied me. Now it is time to return home.

MAR. Well.



Third Dialogue.

Interlocutors:

LIBERIO. LAODONIO.

LIB. Reclining in the shade of a cypress-tree, the enthusiast finding his mind free from other thoughts, it happened that the heart and the eyes spoke together as if they were animals and substances of different intellects and senses, and they made lament of that which was the beginning of his torment and which consumed his soul.

LAO. Repeat, if you can recollect, the reasons and the words.

LIB. The heart began the dialogue, which, making itself heard by the breast, broke into these words:

55.

First proposition of the heart to the eyes.

How, eyes of mine, can that so much torment, Which as an ardent fire from ye derives, And which this mortal subject so afflicts With unrelenting burning never spared? Can ocean floods suffice to mitigate The ardour of those flames? or slowest star Within the frozen circle of the north Offer umbrageous shade? Ye took me captive, and the self-same hand Doth hold me and reject me and through you I in the body am: out of it with the sun. I am the source of life, yet am I not alive. I know not what I am, for I belong Unto this soul; but this soul is not mine.

LAO. Truly the hearing, the seeing, the knowing, is that which kindles desire, and therefore it is through the operation of the eyes that the heart becomes inflamed: and the more worthy the object which is present with them the stronger is the fire, and the more active are the flames. What then, must that kind be, for which the heart burns in such a way that the coldest star in the Arctic circle cannot cool it, nor can the whole body of water of the ocean stop its burning! What must be the excellence of that object that has made him an enemy to himself, a rebel to his own soul and content with such hostility and rebellion, although he be captive to one who despises and will have none of him! But let me hear whether the eyes made a response, and what they said.

LIB. They, on the other hand, complained of the heart as being the origin and cause why they shed so many tears, and this was the sum of their proposition.

56.

First proposition of the eyes to the heart.

How, oh my heart, do waters gush from thee Like to the springs that bathe the Nereids' brows Which daily in the sun are born and die? Like to the double fountain of Amphitrite, Which pours so great a flood across the earth, That one might say, the sum of it exceeds That of the stream which Egypt inundates, Running its sevenfold course unto the sea. Nature hath given two lights To this small earth for governance; But thou, perverter of eternal law, Hast turned them into everlasting streams. But Heaven is not content to see her law Decline before unbridled violence.

LAO. It is certain that the heart, grieved and stung, causes tears to spring to the eyes, and while these light the flames in this, that other dims those with moisture. But I am surprised at such exaggeration which says that the Nereids raising their wet faces to the eastern sun, is less than these waters (of the eyes). And more than that, they are equal to the ocean, not because they do pour, but because these two springing streams can pour such, and so much, that compared with them the Nile would appear a tiny stream divided into seven streamlets.[T]

[T] Is this an allusion to the seven activities or changes which water goes through to produce form; Water being the formative power which Fire, itself formless and the moving power, animates?—(Tr.)

LIB. Be not surprised at that exaggeration nor at that potency without action! For you will understand all, after having heard the conclusion of their argument. Now listen how the heart responds to the proposition of the eyes.

LAO. I pray you, let me hear.

LIB.

57.

First response of the heart to the eyes.

Eyes, if an immortal flame within me burn, And I no other am than burning fire; If to come near me is to feel the blaze, So that the heavens are fervid with my heat; Why does my blazing flame consume you not, But only contrary effects you feel? Why saturated and not roasted ye, If not of water but of fire I be? Believe ye, oh ye blind, That from such ardent burning is derived The double passage, and those living founts Have had their elements from Vulcan? As force sometimes acquires a power When by its contrary it is opposed.

You see that the heart could not persuade itself that from an opposite cause and beginning, could proceed a force of an opposite effect. So that it will not allow the possibility of it, except through antiperistasis, which means the strength which an opposite acquires from that which, flying from the other, comes to unite itself, incorporate itself, insphere itself, or concentrate itself towards the individual, through its own virtue, which, the farther it is removed from the dimensions (dimensioni) the more efficacious it becomes.

LAO. Tell me, how did the eyes respond to the heart?

58.

First response of the eyes to the heart.

Thy passion does confuse thee, on my heart, The path of truth thou hast entirely lost; That which in us is seen—that which is hid— Is seed of oceans. Neptune, if by fate His kingdom he should lose, would find it here entire. How does the burning flame from us derive Who of the sea the double parent are? So senseless thou'rt become! Dost thou believe the flame will pass And leave the doors all wet behind That thou may'st feel the ardour of the same? As splendour through a glass, dost thou Believe that it through us will penetrate?

Now I will not begin to philosophize about the identity of opposites which I have studied in the book De Principio ed uno, and I will suppose that which is usually received, that the opposites in the same genus are quite separate (distantissimi), so that the meaning of this response is more easily learned where the eyes call themselves the seed or founts in the virtual potentiality of which is the sea; so that if Neptune should lose all the waters, he could recall them into action by their own potentiality, where they are as in the beginning, medium and material. But it is not urged as a necessity, when they say it cannot be, that the flame passes over to the heart through their room (stanza e cortile) and courtyard leaving so many waters behind, for two reasons. First, because such an impediment cannot exist in action, if (equally?) violent opposition is not put into action;[U] second, because in so far as the waters are actually in the eyes, they can give passage to the heat as to the light; for, experience proves that the luminous ray kindles, by means of reflection, any material that becomes opposed to it, without heating the glass; and the ray passes through a glass, crystal or other vase, full of water, and heats an object placed under it, without heating the thick intervening body. As it is also true that it causes dry and dusty impressions in the caves of the deep sea. Therefore by analogy, if not by the same sort of reasons, we may see how it is possible that, through the lubricant and dark passage of the eyes, the affection may be kindled and inflamed by that light, the which for the same reason cannot be in the middle.[V] As the light of the sun, according to other reasoning, is in the middle air, or again in the nearer sense, and again in the common sense, or again in the intellect, notwithstanding that from one mode proceeds the other mode of being.

[U] Prima, per che tal impedimento in atto non puo essere se non posti in atto tali oltraggiosi ripari. Does this mean that the opposites which are called into action must be equal in power?—(Translator.)

If, when fire is ascending again to its proper sphere, it should meet with obstacles, such as a bit of wood or of straw, it would resume its former activity, and consume this obstacle or hindrance; and the greater the resistance, the more its activity would be increased.... You will observe that the obstacle which the fire meets with would serve only to increase its velocity, by giving it a new ardour to overcome all obstacles in joining itself to its centre.—("Spiritual Torrents," Lady Guion.)

[V] Nel mezzo.

LAO. Are there any more discourses?

LIB. Yes; because both the one and the other are trying to find out in what way it is that it (the heart) contains so many flames and those (the eyes) so many waters. The heart then makes the next proposition.

59.

Second proposition of the heart to the eyes.

If to the foaming sea the rivers run, And pour their streams into the sea's dark gulf, How does the kingdom of the water-gods, Fed by the double torrent of these eyes, Increase not; since the earth Must lose the glorious overflow? How is it that we do not see the day, When from the mount Deukalion returns? Where are the lengthening shores, Where is the torrent to put out my flame, Or, failing this, to give it greater power? Does drop of water ever fall to earth In such a way as leads me to suppose It is not as the senses show it?

It asks, what power is this, which is not put into action? If the waters are so many, why does Neptune not come to tyrannize over the kingdoms of the other elements? Where are the inundated banks? Where is he who will give coolness to the ardent fire? Where is the drop of water by which I may affirm through the eyes that which the senses deny? But the eyes in the same way ask another question.

60.

Second proposition of the eyes to the heart.

If matter changed and turned to fire acquires The movement of a lighter element, Rising aloft unto the highest heaven; Wherefore, ignited by the fire of love, Swifter than wind, dost thou not rise and flash. Into the sun and be incorporate there? Why rather stay a pilgrim here below Than open through the air and us a way? No spark of fire from that heart Goes out through the wide atmosphere. Body of dust and ashes is not seen, Nor water-laden smoke ascends on high. All is contained entire within itself, And not of flame, is reason, sense, or thought.

LAO. This proposition is neither more nor less conclusive than the other. But let us come at once to the answers if there be any.

LIC. There are some certainly and full of sap. Listen.

61.

Second response of the heart to the eyes.

He is a fool, who that alone believes, Which to the sense appears, who reason scorns. My flame could never wing its way above. The conflagration infinite remains unseen. Between the eyes their waters are contained, One infinite encroaches not upon another. Nature wills not that all should perish. If so much fire's enough for so much sphere, Say, say, oh eyes, What shall we do? how act In order to make known, or I, or you, For its deliverance, the sad plight of the soul? If one and other of us both be hid, How can we move the beauteous god to pity?

LAS. If it is not true it is very well imagined: if it is not so, it is yet a very good excuse the one for the other; because where there are two forces, of the which one is not greater than the other, the operation of both must cease, for one resists as much as the other insists, and one assails while the other defends. If therefore the sea is infinite and the force of tears in the eyes is immense, it never can be made apparent by speech, nor the impetus of the fire concealed in the heart break forth, nor can they (the eyes) send forth the twin torrent to the sea if the heart shelters them with equal tenacity. Therefore the beautiful deity cannot be expected to be pitiful towards the afflicted soul because of the exhibition of tears which distil from the eyes, or speech which breaks forth from the breast.

LIB. Now note the answer of the eyes to this proposition:—

62.

Second response of the eyes to the heart.

Alas! we poured into the wavy sea, The strength of our two founts in vain, For two opposing powers hold it concealed, Lest it go rolling aimlessly adown. The strength unmeasured of the burning heart, Withholds a passage to the lofty streams; Barring their twofold course unto the sea, Nature abhors the covered ground.[W] Now say, afflicted heart, what canst thou bring To oppose against us with an equal force? Oh, where is he, will boast himself to be Exalted by this most unhappy love, If of thy pain and mine it can be said, The greater they, the less it may be seen.

[W] Ch'il coperto terren natura aborre.

Both these evils being infinite, like two equally vigorous opposites they curb and suppress each other: it could not be so if they were both finite, seeing that a precise equality does not belong to natural things, nor would it be so if the one were finite, the other infinite; for of a certainty the one would absorb the other, and they would both be seen, or, at least one, through the other. Beneath these sentences, there lies hidden, ethical and natural philosophy, and I leave it to be searched for, meditated upon and understood, by whosoever will and can. This alone I will not leave (unsaid) that it is not without reason that the affection of the heart is said to be the infinite sea by the apprehension of the eyes.[X] For the object of the mind being infinite, and no definite object being proposed to the intellect, the will cannot be satisfied by a finite good, but if besides that, something else is found, it is desired and sought for; for, as is commonly said, the apex of the inferior species is the beginning of the superior species, whether the degrees are taken according to the forms, the which we cannot consider as being infinite, or according to the modes and reasons of those, in which way, the highest good being infinite, it would be supposed to be infinitely communicated, according to the condition of the things, over which it is diffused. However, there is no definite species of the universe. I speak according to the figure and mass; there is no definite species of the intellect; the affections are not a definite species.

[X] Fire, Flame, Day, Smoke, Night, and so on ... These are all names of various deities which preside over the Cosmo-psychic Powers.—("The Secret Doctrine.")

LAO. These two powers of the soul, then, never are nor can be perfect for the object, if they refer to it infinitely?

LIB. So it would be if this infinite were by negative privation or privative negation of the end, as it is for a more positive affirmation of the end, infinite and endless.[Y]

[Y] "The deity is one, because it is infinite. It is triple, because it is ever manifesting." This manifestation is triple in its aspects, for it requires, as Aristotle has it, three principles for every natural body to become objective: privation, form and matter. Privation meant in the mind of the great philosopher ... the lowest plane and world of the Anima Mundi.—("The Secret Doctrine.")

LAO. You mean, then, two kinds of affinity; the one privative, the which may be towards something which is power, as, infinite is darkness, the end of which is the position of light; the other perfecting, which tends to the act and perfection, as infinite is the light, the end of which would be privation and darkness.[Z] In this, then, the intellect conceives the light, the good, the beautiful, in so far as the horizon of its capacity extends, and the soul, which drinks of Divine nectar and the fountain of eternal life in so far as its own vessel allows, and one sees that the light is beyond the circumference of his horizon, where it can go and penetrate more and more, and the nectar and fount of living water is infinitely fruitful, so that it can become ever more and more intoxicated.

[Z] "Darkness adopted illumination in order to make itself visible." Darkness in its radical, metaphysical basis, is subjective and absolute light; while the latter, in all its seeming effulgence and glory, is merely a mass of shadows, as it can never be eternal, and is simply an illusion, or Maya.—("The Secret Doctrine.")

LIB. From this it does not follow that there is imperfection in the object, nor that there is little satisfaction in the potency, but that the power is included in the object and beatifically absorbed by it. Here the eyes imprint upon the heart, that is upon the intelligence, and rouse in the will an infinite torment of love, where there is no pain because nothing is sought which is not obtained; but it is happiness, because that which is there sought is always found, and there is no satiety, inasmuch as there is always appetite, and therefore enjoyment; in this it is not like the food of the body, the which with satiety loses enjoyment, has no pleasure before the enjoyment, nor after enjoyment, but only in the enjoyment itself, and where it passes certain limits it comes to feel annoyance and disgust. Behold, then, in a certain analogy, how the highest good ought to be also infinite, in order that it should not some time turn to evil; as food, which is good for the body, if it is not limited, may come to be poison. Thus it is that the water of the ocean does not extinguish that flame, and the rigour of the Arctic circle does not mitigate that ardour. Therefore it is bad through (the) one hand, which holds him and rejects him; it holds him, because it has him for its own; it rejects him because, flying from him, the higher it makes itself the more he ascends upwards to it; the more he follows it, the further off it appears, by reason of its high excellence, according as it is said: Accedit homo ad cor altum, et exaltabitur Deus. Such blessedness of affection begins in this life, and in this state it has its mode of being. Hence the heart can say that it is within with the body, and without with the sun, in so far as the soul with its twin faculty, puts into operation two functions: the one to vivify and realize the animal body, the other to contemplate superior things; so that it is in receptive potentiality from above, as it is in re-active potentiality below, towards the body. The body is, as it were, dead, and as it were apart from the soul, the which is its life and its perfection; and the soul is as it were dead, and a thing apart from the superior illuminating intelligence, from which the intellect is derived as to its nature and acts. Therefore, the heart is said to be the beginning of life, and not to be alive, it is said to belong to the animating soul, and that this does not belong to it; because it is inflamed by Divine love, and finally converted into fire, which can set on fire that which comes near it, seeing that it has contracted into itself the divinity; it is made god, and consequently in its kind it can inspire others with love; as the splendour of the sun may be seen and admired in the moon. And as for that which belongs to the consideration of the eyes, know, that in the present discourse they have two functions; one to impress the heart, the other to receive the impression of the heart; as this also has two functions, one to receive the impressions from the eyes, the other to impress them. The eyes study the species and propose them to the heart; the heart desires them, and presents his desire to the eyes; these conceive the light, diffuse it, and kindle the fire in the heart, which heated and kindled, sends its waters (umore) to them, so that they may dispose of them[AA] (digeriscano). Thus, firstly, cognition moves the affection, and soon the affection moves the cognition. The eyes, when they move (the heart), are dry, because they perform the office of a looking-glass, and of a representer; when they are moved, however, they become troubled and perturbed, because they perform the office of a diligent executer, seeing that with the speculating intellect, the beautiful and the good is first seen, then the will desires it; and later the industrious intellect procures it, follows it, and seeks it. Tearful eyes signify the difficulty of separating the thing wished for from, the wisher, the which in order that it should not pall, nor disgust, presents itself as an infinite longing (studio) which ever has, and ever seeks; seeing that the delight of the gods is ascribed to drinking, not to having tasted ambrosia, and to the continual enjoyment of food and drink, and not in being satiated and without desire for them. Hence they have satiety as it were in movement and apprehension, not in quiet and comprehension; they are not satiated without appetite, nor are they in a state of desire, without being in a certain way satiated.

[AA] "Deity is an arcane, living (or moving) FIRE, and the eternal witnesses to this unseen Presence are Light, Heat, Moisture," this trinity including, and being the cause of every phenomenon in Nature.—("The Secret Doctrine.")

LAO. Esuries satiata, satietas esuriens.

LIB. Precisely so.

LAO: From this I can comprehend how, without blame, but with great truth and understanding, it has been said that Divine love weeps with indescribable groans, because having all it loves all, and loving all has all.

LIB. But many comments would be necessary if we would understand that Divine love which is deity itself; and one easily understands Divine love, so far as it is to be found in its effects and in the inferior nature. I do not say that which from the divinity is diffused into things, but that of things which aspires to the divinity.

LAO. Now of this and of other matters we will discourse more at our ease presently. Let us go.



Fourth Dialogue.

Interlocutors:

SEVERINO. MINUTOLO.

SEV. You will see the origin of the nine blind men, who state nine reasons and special causes of their blindness, and yet they all agree in one general reason and one common enthusiasm.[AB]

[AB] May one suggest an analogy between the nine months of gestation, during which time the foetus goes through various stages and conditions to complete the "individual cycle of evolution," and the nine blind men who, at the end of their probation, are brought to see the light—to be born—illuminated?—("Translator.")

MIN. Begin with the first!

SEV. The first of these, notwithstanding that he is blind by nature, yet he laments, saying to the others that he cannot persuade himself that nature has been less courteous to them than to him; seeing that although they do not (now) see, yet they have enjoyed sight, and have had experience of that sense, and of the value of that faculty, of which they have been deprived, while he came into the world as a mole, to be seen and not to see, to long for the sight of that which he never had seen.

MIN. Many have fallen in love through report alone.

SEV. They have, says he, the happiness of retaining that Divine image present in the mind, so that, although blind, they have in imagination that which he cannot have. Then in the sistine he turns to his guide and begs him to lead him to some precipice, so that he may no longer endure this contempt and persecution of nature. He says then:

63.

The first blind man.

Ye now afflicted are, who erst were glad, For ye have lost the light that once was yours, Yet happy, for ye have the twin lights known. These eyes ne'er lighted were, and ne'er were quenched; But a more grievous destiny is mine Which calls for heavier lamentation. Who will deny that nature upon me Has frowned more harshly than on you? Conduct me to the precipice, my guide, And give me peace, for there will I a cure For this my dolour and affliction find; For to be seen, yet not to see the light, Like an incapable and sightless mole, Is to be useless and a burden on the earth.

Now follows the other, who, bitten by the serpent of jealousy, became affected in the organ of sight. He wanders without any guide, unless he has jealousy for his escort. He begs some of the bystanders, that seeing there is no remedy for his misfortune, they should have pity upon him, so that he should no longer feel it; that he might become as unmanifest to himself as he is to the light, and that they bury him together with his own misfortune. He says then:

64.

The second blind man.

Alecta has torn from out her dreadful hair, The infernal worm that with a cruel bite, Has fiercely fastened on my soul, And of my senses, torn the chief away, Leaving the intellect without its guide. In vain the soul some consolation seeks. That spiteful, rabid, rancorous jealousy Makes me go stumbling along the way. If neither magic spell nor sacred plant, Nor virtue hid in the enchanter's stone, Will yield me the deliverance that I ask: Let one of you, my friends, be pitiful, And put me out, as are put out my eyes, That they and I together be entombed.

The other follows, who says that he became blind through having been suddenly brought out of the darkness into a great light: accustomed to behold ordinary beauties, a celestial beauty was suddenly presented before his eyes—a sun-god—in this manner his sight became dull and the twin lights which shine at the prow of the soul were put out: for the eyes are like two beacons, which guide the ship, and this would happen to one brought up in Cimmerian obscurity if he fixed his eyes suddenly upon the sun. In the sistine he begs for free passage to Hades, because darkness alone is suitable to a dark condition. He says:

65.

The third blind man.

If sudden on the sight, the star of day Should shed his beams on one in darkness reared, Nurtured beneath the black Cimmerian sky, Far from the radiance of the glorious sun, The double light, the beacon of the soul He quenches: then as a foe he hides. Thus were my eyes made dull, inept, Used only, wonted beauties to behold. Conduct me to the land where darkness reigns! Wherefore being dead, speak I amidst the folk? A chip of Hell, why do I mix and move Amongst the living, wherefore do I drink The hated air, since all my pain Is due to having seen the highest good?

The fourth blind man comes forward, not blind for the same reason as the former one. For as that one was blinded through the sudden aspect of the light, this one is so, from having too frequently beheld it, or through having fixed his eyes too much upon it, so that he has lost the sense of all other light, but he does not consider himself to be blind through looking at that one which has blinded him: and the same may be said of the sense of sight as of the sense of hearing, that those whose ears are accustomed to great noises, do not hear the lesser, as is well known of those who live near the cataracts of the great river Nile which fall precipitously down to the plain.

MIN. Thus, all those who have accustomed the body and the soul to things more difficult and great, are not apt to feel annoyed by smaller difficulties. So that fellow ought not to be discontented about his blindness.

SEV. Certainly not. But one says, voluntarily blind, of one who desires that every other thing be hidden because it annoys him to be diverted from looking at that which alone he wishes to behold. Meanwhile he prays the passers-by to prevent his coming to mischief in any encounter, while he goes so absorbed and captivated by one principal object.

MIN. Repeat his words!

SEV. He says:

66

The fourth blind man.

Headlong from on high, to the abyss, The cataract of the Nile falls down and dulls the senses Of the joyless folk to every other sound, So stood I too, with spirit all intent Upon the living light, that lights the world; Dead henceforth to all the lesser splendours, While that light shines, let every other thing Be to the voluntary blind concealed. I pray you save me stumbling 'mongst the stones, Make me aware of the wild beast, Show me whether up or down I go; So that the miserable bones fall not, Into a low and cavernous place, While I, without a guide, am stepping on.

To the blind man that follows, it happens that having wept so much, his eyes are become dim, so that he is not able to extend the visual ray, so as to distinguish visible objects, nor can he see the light, which in spite of himself, through so many sorrows, he at one time was able to see. Besides which he considers that his blindness is not from constitution, but from habit, and is peculiar to himself, because the luminous fire which kindles the soul in the pupil, was for too long a time and with too much force, repressed and restrained by a contrary humour, so that although he might cease from weeping, he cannot be persuaded that this would result in the longed-for vision. You will hear what he says to the throng in order that they should enable him to proceed on his way:

67.

The fifth blind man.

Eyes of mine, with waters ever full, When will the bright spark of the visual ray, Darting, spring through each veiling obstacle, That I may see again those holy lights That were the alpha of my darling pain? Ah, woe! I fear me it is quite extinct, So long oppressed and conquered by its opposite. Let the blind man pass on! And turn your eyes upon these founts Which overcome the others one and all. Should any dare dispute it with me, There's one would surely answer him again; That in one eye of mine an ocean is contained.

The sixth blind man is sightless because, through so much weeping, there remains no more moisture, not even the crystalline and moisture through which, as a diaphanous medium, the visual ray was transmitted, and the external light and visible species were introduced, so that the heart became compressed because all the moist substance, whose office it is to keep united the various parts and opposites, was absorbed, and the amorous affection remains without the effect of tears. Therefore the organ is destroyed through the victory of the other elements, and it is consequently left without sight and without consistency of the parts of the body altogether.[AC] He then proposes to the bystanders that which you shall hear:

68.

The sixth blind man.

Eyes, no longer eyes, fountains no longer founts, Ye have wept out the waters that did keep The body, soul, and spirit joined in one, And thou, reflecting crystal, which from without So much unto the soul made manifest, Thou art consumed by the wounded heart. So towards the dark and cavernous abyss, I, a blind arid man, direct my steps. Ah, pity me, and do not hesitate To help my speedy going. I who So many rivers in the dark days spread out, Finding my only comfort in my tears, Now that my streams and fountains all are dry, Towards profound oblivion lead the way.

[AC] Water is the first principle of all things; this was the central doctrine of his system (Thales). Now, if we may believe Aristotle, this thought was suggested to him not so much by contemplating the illimitable ocean, out of which, as old cosmogonists taught, all things had at first proceeded, as by noticing the obvious fact, that moisture is found in all living things, and that if it were absent they would cease to be. Thales, no doubt, believed this humour or moisture to be, as he said, the essence and principle of all things.—("Encyclopaedia Metropolitana.")

The next one avers that he has lost his sight through the intensity of the flame, which, proceeding from the heart, first destroyed the eyes, and then dried up all the remaining moisture of the substance of the lover, so that being all melted and turned to flame, he is no longer himself, because the fire whose property it is to resolve all bodies into their atoms, has converted him into impalpable dust, whereas by virtue of water alone, the atoms of other bodies thicken, and are welded together to make a substantial composition. Yet he is not deprived of the sense of the most intense flame. Therefore, in the sistine he would have space made for him to pass; for if anybody should be touched by his fires he would become such that he would have no more feeling of the flames of hell, for their heat would be to him as cold snow.

69.

The seventh blind man.

Beauty, which through the eyes rushed to the heart, And formed the mighty furnace in my breast, Absorbing first the visual moisture; then, Spouting aloft its grasping flashing flame, Devouring every other fluid, To set the dryer element at rest, Has thus reduced me to a boneless dust, Which now to its own atoms is resolved, If anguish infinite your fears should rouse Make space, give way, oh peoples! Beware of my fierce penetrating fire, For if it should invade and touch you, ye Would feel and know the fires of hell To be like winter's cold.

The eighth follows, whose blindness is caused by the dart which love has caused to penetrate from the eyes to the heart. Hence, he laments not only as being blind, but furthermore because he is wounded and burnt so fiercely, that he believes no other can be equally so. The sense of it is easily expressed in this sonnet:—

70.

The eighth blind man.

Vile onslaught, evil struggle, unrighteous palm, Fine point, devouring fire, strong nerve, Sharp wound, impious ardour, cruel body, Dart, fire and tangle of that wayward god Who pierced the eyes, inflamed the heart, bound the soul, Made me at once sightless, a lover, and a slave, So that, blind I have at all times, in all ways and places, The feeling of my wound, my fire, my noose. Men, heroes, and gods! Who be on earth, or near to Ditis or to Jove, I pray ye say, when, how, and where did ye Feel ever, hear, or see in any place Woes like to these, amongst the oppressed Amongst the damned, 'mongst lovers?

Finally comes the last one, who is also mute through not having been able, or having dared, to say that which he most desired to say, for fear of offending or exciting contempt, and he is deprived of speaking of every other thing: therefore, it is not he who speaks, but his guide who relates the affair, about which I do not speak, but only bring you the sense thereof:

71.

The guide of the ninth blind man.

Happy are ye, oh all ye sightless lovers, That ye the reason of your pains can tell, By virtue of your tears you can be sure Of pure and favourable receptions. Amongst you all, the latent fire of him Whose guide I am, rages most fiercely, Though he is mute for want of boldness To make known his sorrows to his deity. Make way! open ye wide the way, Be ye benign unto this vacant face, Oh people full of grievous hindrances, The while this harassed weary trunk Goes knocking at the doors To meet a death less painful, more profound.

Here are mentioned nine reasons, which are the cause that the human mind is blind as regards the Divine object and cannot fix its eyes upon it. And of these, the first, allegorized through the first blind man, is the quality of its own species, which in so far as the degree in which he finds himself admits, he aspires certainly higher, than he is able to comprehend.

MIN. Because no natural desire is vain, we are able to assure ourselves of a more excellent state which is suitable to the soul outside of this body, in the which it may be possible to unite itself, or to approach more nearly, to its object.

SEV. Thou sayest well that no natural impulse or power is without strong reason; it is in fact the same rule of nature which orders things. So far, it is a thing most true and most certain to well-disposed intellects, that the human soul, whatever it may show itself while it is in the body, that same, which it makes manifest in this state, is the expression of its pilgrim existence in this region; because it aspires to the truth and to universal good, and is not satisfied with that which comes on account of and to the profit of its species.

The second, represented by the second blind man, proceeds from some troubled affection, as in the question of Love and Jealousy, the which is like a moth, which has the same subject, enemy and father, that is, it consumes the cloth or wood from which, it is generated.

MIN. This does not seem to me to take place with heroic love.

SEV. True, according to the same reason which is seen in the lower kind of love; but I mean according to another reason similar to that which happens to those who love truth and goodness, which shows itself when they are angry against those who adulterate it, spoil it, or corrupt it, or who in other ways would treat it with indignity, as has been the case with those who have brought themselves to suffer death and pains, and to being ignominiously treated by ignorant peoples and vulgar sects.

MIN. Certainly no one truly loves the truth and the good who is not angry against the multitude; as no one loves in the ordinary way who is not jealous and fearful about the thing loved.

SEV. And so he comes to be really blind in many things, and according to the common opinion he is quite infatuated and mad.

MIN. I have noted a place which says that all those are infatuated and mad, who have sense beyond and outside of the general sense of other men. But such extravagance is of two kinds, according as one goes beyond and ascends up higher than the greater number rise or can rise, and these are they who are inspired with Divine enthusiasm; or by going down lower where those are found who have greater defect of sense and of reason than the many, and the ordinary; but in that kind of madness, insensibility and blindness, will not be found the jealous hero.

SEV. Although he is told that much learning makes him mad, yet no one can really abuse him. The third, represented by the third blind man, proceeds from this: that Divine Truth according to supernatural reasoning, called metaphysics, manifests itself to those few to whom it shows itself, and does not proceed with measure of movement and time as occurs in the physical sciences, that is, those which are acquired by natural light, the which, in discoursing of a thing known to reason by means of the senses, proceed to the knowledge of another thing, unknown, the which discourse is called argument; but immediately and suddenly, according to the method which belongs to such efficiency.[AD] Whence a divine has said: "Attenuati sunt oculi mei suspicientes in excelsum." So that it does not require a useless lapse of time, fatigue, and study, and inquisitorial act to have it, but it is taken in quickly, as the solar light, without hesitation, and makes itself present to whoever turns himself to it and opens himself to it.

[AD] When somewhat of this Perfect Good is discovered and revealed within the soul of man, as it were in a glance or flash, the soul conceiveth a longing to approach unto the Perfect Goodness.—("Theologia Germanica.")

MIN. Do you mean then, that the student and the philosopher are not more apt to receive this light than the ignorant?

SEV. In a certain way no, and in a certain way yes. There is no difference, when the Divine mind through its providence comes to communicate itself without disposition of the subject; I mean to say when it communicates itself because it seeks and elects its subject; but there is a great difference, when it waits and would be sought, and then according to its own good will and pleasure it makes itself to be found. In this way it does not appear to all, nor can it appear to others, than to those who seek it. Hence it is said, "Qui quaerunt me, invenient me;" and again: "Qui sitit, veniat et bibat!"

MIN. It is not to be denied, that the apprehension of the second manner is made in Time. (Comes with time?)

SEV. You do not distinguish between the disposition towards the Divine light and the apprehension of the same. Certainly I do not deny that it requires time to dispose oneself, discourse, study and fatigue; but as we say that change takes place in time, and generation in an instant, and as we see that with time, the windows are opened, but the sun enters in a moment, so does it happen similarly in this case.

The fourth, represented in the following, is not really unworthy, like that which results from the habit of believing in the false opinions of the vulgar, which are very far removed from the opinions of philosophers, and are derived from the study of vulgar philosophies, which are by the multitude considered the more true, the more they appeal to common sense. And this habit is one of the greatest and strongest disadvantages, because as Alcazele and Averroes showed, it is like that which happens to those persons who from childhood and youth are in the habit of eating poison, and have become such, that it is converted into sweet and proper nutriment, and on the other hand, they abominate those things which are really good and sweet according to common nature; but it is most worthy, because it is founded upon the habit of looking at the true light; the which habit cannot come into use for the multitude, as we have said. This blindness is heroic, and is of such a kind that it can worthily satisfy the present heroic blind man, who is so far from troubling himself about it that he is able to explain every other sight, and he would crave nothing else from the community save a free passage and progress in contemplation, for he finds himself usually hampered and blocked by obstacles and opposition.

The fifth results from the disproportion of the means of our cognition to the knowable; seeing that in order to contemplate Divine things, the eyes must be opened by means of images, analogies and other reasonings which by the Peripatetics are comprehended under the name of fancies (fantasmi); or, by means of Being, to proceed to speculate about Essence, by means of its effects and the knowledge of the cause; the which means, are so far from ensuring the attainment of such an end, that it is easier to believe that the highest and most profound cognition of Divine things, is through negation and not through affirmation, knowing that the Divine beauty and goodness is not that which can or does fall within our conception, but that which is above and beyond, incomprehensible; chiefly in that condition called by the philosopher speculation of phantoms, and by the theologian, vision through analogies, reflections and enigmas, because we see, not the true effects and the true species of things, or the substance of ideas, but the shadows, vestiges and simulacra of them, like those who are inside the cave and have from their birth their shoulders turned away from the entrance of the light, and their faces towards the end, where they do not see that which is in reality, but the shadows of that which is found substantially outside the cave. Therefore by the open vision which it has lost, and knows it has lost, a spirit similar to or better than that of Plato weeps, desiring exit from the cave, whence, not through reflexion, but through immediate conversion he may see the light again.

MIN. It appears to me that this blind man does not refer to the difficulty which proceeds from reflective vision, but to that which is caused through the medium between the visual power and the object.

SEV. These two modes, although they are distinct in the sensitive cognition, or ocular vision, at the same time are united together in the rational or intellectual cognition.

MIN. It seems to me that I have heard and read that in every vision, the means, or the intermediary is required between the power and the object. Because as by means of the light diffused in the air and the figure of the thing, which in a certain way proceeds from that which is seen, to that which sees, the act of seeing is put into effect, so in the intellectual region, where shines the sun of the intellect, acting between the intelligible species formed as proceeding from the object, our intellect comes to comprehend something of the divinity, or something inferior to it. Because, as our eye, when we see, does not receive the light of the fire and of gold, in substance, but in similitude; so the intellect, in whatever state it is found, does not receive the divinity substantially, so that there should be substantially as many gods as there are intelligences, but in similitude; therefore they are not formally gods, but denominatively divine, the divinity and Divine beauty being one, exalted above all things.

SEV. You say well; but for all your well saying, there is no need for me to retract, because I have never said the contrary. But I must declare and explain. Therefore, first I maintain that the immediate vision, so called and understood by us, does not do away with that sort of medium which is the intelligible species, nor that which is the light; but that which is equal to the thickness and density of the crystalline or opaque intermediate body; as happens to him who sees by means of the waters more or less turbid, or air foggy and cloudy, who would believe he was looking as without a medium when it was conceded to him to look through the pure air, light and clear. All which you have explained where it says:

"When will the bright spark of the visual ray Darting, spring through each veiling obstacle."

But let us return. The sixth, represented in the following, is caused only by the imbecility and unreality of the body, which is in continual motion, mutation, and change, the operations of which must follow the condition of its faculty, the which is a result of the condition of its nature and being. How can immobility, reality, entity, truth be contained in that which is ever different, and always makes and is made, other and otherwise? What truth, what picture can be painted and impressed, where the pupils of the eyes are dispersed in water, the water into steam, the steam into flame, the flame into air, and this in other and other without end: the subject of sense and cognition turns for ever upon the wheel of mutation?

MIN. Movement is change, and that which is changeable works and operates ever differently, because the conception and affection follow the reason and condition of the subject; and he who sees other and other different and differently must necessarily be blind as regards that beauty which is one and alone and is the same unity and entity.

SEV. So it is. The seventh, contained allegorically in the sentiment of the seventh blind man, is the result of the fire of the affections, whence some become impotent and incapable of comprehending the truth, by making the affection precede the intellect. There are those who love before they understand: whence it happens that all things appear to them according to the colour of their affections, whereas he who would understand the truth by means of contemplation, ought to be perfectly pure in thought.

MIN. In truth, one sees how much diversity there is in meditators and inquirers, because some, according to their habits and early fundamental discipline, proceed by means of numbers,[AE] others by means of images, others by means of order and disorder, others through composition and division, others by separation and congregation, others by inquiry and doubt, others by discussions and definitions, others by interpretations and decypherings of voices, words, and dialects, so that some are mathematical philosophers, some metaphysicians, others logicians, others grammarians; so there are divers contemplators, who with different affections set themselves to study and apply the meaning of written sentences; whence we find that the same light of truth, expressed in the selfsame book, serves with the same words the proposition of so numerous, diverse, and contrary sects.[AF]

[AE] Number is, as the great writer (Balzac) thought, an Entity, and, at the same time, a Breath emanating from what he termed God, and what we call the ALL; the breath which alone could organize the physical kosmos.—("The Secret Doctrine.")

[AF] As the Bible serves as the basis for all the different Protestant sects.

SEV. That is to say, that the affections are very powerful in hindering the comprehension of the Truth, notwithstanding that the person may not himself perceive it; just as it happens to a stupid invalid who does not say that his mouth is bittered but that the food is bitter. Now that kind of blindness is expressed by him whose eyes are changed and deprived of their natural powers, by that which the heart has given and imprinted upon it, powerful not only to change the sense, but besides that, all the faculties of the soul as the present image shows. According to the meaning of the eighth, the high intelligible object has blinded the intellect, as the high superposed sensible has corrupted the senses. Thus it would happen to him who should see Jove in his majesty, he would lose his life and in consequence his senses. As he who looks aloft sometimes is overcome by the majesty.[AG] Besides, when he comes to penetrate the Divine species, he passes it like a ray. Whence say the theologians that the Divine word is more penetrating than sharp point of sword or knife. Hence is derived the form and impression of His own footstep, upon which nothing else can be imprinted and sealed. Therefore, that form being there confirmed and the new strange one not being able to take its place unless the other yields, consequently he can say, that he has no power of taking any other, if there is one who replaces it or scatters it through the necessary want of proportion. The ninth reason is exemplified, by the ninth who is blind through want of confidence, through dejection of spirit, the which is caused and brought about also by a great love which He fears to offend by His temerity. Whence says the Psalm: "Averte oculos tuos a me, quia ipsi me avolare fecere." And so he suppresses his eyes so as not to see that which most of all he desires, as he keeps his tongue from talking with whom he most wishes to speak, from fear that a defective look or word should humiliate him or bring him in some way into misfortune. And this generally proceeds from the apprehension of the excellence of the object above its potential faculty: whence the most profound and divine theologians say, that God is more honoured and loved by silence than by words; as one sees more by shutting the eyes to the species represented, than by opening them, therefore the negative theology of Pythagoras and Dionysius is more celebrated than the demonstrative theology of Aristotle and the scholastic doctors.

[AG]

... Gaze, as thy lips have said, On God Eternal, Very God! See me, see what thou prayest!

* * * * *

O Eyes of God! O Head! My strength of soul is fled. Gone is heart's force, rebuked is mind's desire! When I behold Thee so, With awful brows a-glow, With burning glance, and lips lighted by fire, Fierce as those flames which shall Consume, at close of all, Earth, Heaven!

* * * * *

God is it I did see, This unknown marvel of Thy Form! but fear Mingles with joy! Retake, Dear Lord! for pity's sake, Thine earthly shape, which earthly eyes may bear! —("The Song Celestial.") (Sir Edwin Arnold's translation.)

MIN. Let us go; and we will reason by the way.

SEV. As you please.



Fifth Dialogue.

Interlocutors:

LAODOMIA. GIULIA.

LAO. Some other time, oh my sister, thou wilt hear what happened to those nine blind men, who were at first nine most beautiful and amorous youths, who being so inspired by the loveliness of your face, and having no hope of receiving the reward of their love, and fearing that such despair would reduce them to final ruin, went away from the happy Campanian country, and of one accord, those who at first were rivals for your beauty, swore not to separate until they had tried in all possible ways to find something more beautiful than you or at least equal to you; besides which, that they might discover that mercy and pity which they could not find in your breast armed with pride; for they believed this was the only remedy which could bring them out of that cruel captivity. The third day after their solemn departure, as they were passing by the Circean mount, it pleased them to go and see those antiquities, the cave and fane of that goddess. When they were come there, the majesty of the solitary place, the high, storm-beaten rocks, the murmur of the sea waves which break amongst those caves, and many other circumstances of the locality and the season combined, made them feel inspired; and one of them I will tell thee, more bold than the others, spoke these words: "Oh might it please heaven that in these days, as in the past more happy ages, some wise Circe might make herself present who, with plants and minerals working her incantations, would be able to curb nature. I should believe that she, however proud, would surely be pitiful unto our woes. She, solicited by our supplications and laments, would condescend either to give a remedy or to concede a grateful vengeance for the cruelty of our enemy."

Hardly had he finished uttering these words than there became visible to them a palace, which, whoever had knowledge of human things, could easily comprehend that it was not the work of man, nor of nature; the form and manner of it I will explain to thee another time. Whence, filled with great wonder and touched by hope that some propitious deity, who must have placed this before them, would explain their condition and fortunes, they said with one accord they could meet with nothing worse than death, which they considered a less evil than to live in so much anguish. Therefore they entered, not finding any door that was shut against them nor janitor who questioned them. They found themselves in a very richly ornamented room, where with royal majesty, (as one may say, Apollo was found again by Phaeton;) appears she, who is called his daughter, and at whose appearance they saw vanish all the figures of many other deities who ministered unto her. Then, received and comforted by this gracious face, they advanced, and overcome by the splendour of that majesty, they bent their knee to the earth, and altogether, with the diversity of tones which their various genius suggested, they laid open their vows to the goddess. By her finally, they were treated in such a manner that, blind and homeless, with great labour having ploughed the seas, passed over rivers, overcome mountains, traversed plains for the space of ten years, and at the end of which time having arrived under that temperate sky of the British Isles, and come into the presence of the lovely, graceful nymphs of Father Thames, they (the nine), having made humble obeisance, and the nymphs having received them with acts of purest courtesy, one, the principal amongst them, who later on will be named, with tragic and lamenting accents laid bare the common cause in this manner:

Of those, oh gentle Dames, who with closed urn, Present themselves, whose hearts are pierced Not for a fault by nature caused, But through a cruel fate, That in a living death, Does hold them fast, we each and all are blind.

Nine spirits are we, wandering many years, Longing to know; and many lands O'ertravelled, one day were surprised By a sore accident, To which if you attend, You'll say, oh worthy, oh unhappy lovers!

An impious Circe, who presumes to boast Of having for her sire this glorious sun, Welcomed us after many wanderings: Opened a certain urn, With water sprinkled us, And to the sprinkling added an enchantment.

Waiting the finish of this work of hers We all were quiet, mute, attent, Until she said, "Oh ye unhappy ones, Blind be ye all, Gather that fruit Those get who fix their thoughts on things above."

Daughter and Mother of horror and darkness and woe They cried, who sudden were struck blind, It pleased you then, so proud and harsh, To treat these wretched lovers, Who put themselves before you, Ready to consecrate to you their hearts.

But when the sudden fury somewhat stayed, Which this new case had brought on them, Each one within himself withdrew, While rage to grief gave place; To her they turned for pity, With chosen words companioning their tears.

Now if it please thee, gracious sorceress, If zeal for glory chance to move thy heart, Or milk of kindness soften it, Be merciful to us, And with thy magic herbs, Heal up the wound imprinted on our hearts.

If wish to succour rules thy beauteous hand, Make no delay, lest some of us Unhappy ones reach death, ere we Praising thy act Can each one say, So much did she torment, yet more did heal.

Then she replied: Oh curious prying minds, Take this my other fatal urn, Which my own hand may not unclose; Over the wide expanse of earth, Wander ye still, Search for and visit all the various kingdoms.

Fate hath decreed, it ne'er shall be unclosed Till lofty wisdom, noble chastity And loveliness with these combined, Shall set their hands to it; All other efforts vain, To make this fluid open to the sky.

Then should it chance to sprinkle beauteous hands, Of those who come anear for remedy, Its god-like virtues you may prove, And turning cruel pain Into a sweet content, Two lovely stars upon the earth you'll see.

Meanwhile be none of you cast down or sad, Although long while in deep obscurity All that the heavens contain remain concealed, For good so great as this, No pain, however sharp, Can be accounted worthy of the cost.

That Good to which through blindness you are led, Should make appear all other-having, vile, And every torment be as pleasure held, Who, hoping to behold Graces unique and rare, May hold in high disdain all other lights.

Ah, weary ones! Too long, too long our limbs Have wandered o'er the terrene globe, So that to us it seems As if the shrewd wild beast, With false and flattering hopes, Our bosoms has encumbered with her wiles.

Wretched henceforth, we see, though late, the witch Concerned to keep us all with promises (And for our greater hurt), at bay; For surely she believes No woman can be found Beneath the roof of heaven so dowered as she.

Now that we know that every hope is vain, We yield to destiny and are content, Nor will withdraw from all our strivings sore; And staying not our steps, Though trembling, tired and vexed, We languish through the days that yet are ours.

Oh graceful nymphs, that on the grassy banks Of gentle Thames do make your home, Do not disdain, ye beauteous ones, To try, although in vain, With those white hands of yours To uncover that which in our urn is hid.

Who knows? perchance it may be on these shores, Where, with the Nereids, may be seen The rapid torrent from below ascend And wind again Back to its source, That heaven has destined there she shall be found.

One of the nymphs took the urn in her hand, and without trying to do more offered it to one at a time, but not one was found who dared to be the first to try (to open it), but all by common consent, after simply looking at it, referred and proposed it with respect and reverence to one alone; who, finally, not so much to exhibit her own glory as to succour those unhappy ones, and while in a sort of doubt, the urn opened as it were spontaneously of itself. But what shall I say to you of the applause of the nymphs? How can you imagine that I can express the extreme joy of the nine blind men, when, hearing that the urn was open, they felt themselves sprinkled with the desired waters, they opened their eyes and saw the two suns, and felt they had gained a double happiness; one, the having recovered the light they had lost, the other that of the newly discovered light which alone could show them the image of the highest good upon earth. How, I say, can you expect me to describe the joy and exulting merriment of voices of spirit and of body which they themselves all together could not express? For a time it was like seeing so many furious bacchanals, inebriated with that which they saw so plainly, until at last, the impetus of their fury being somewhat calmed, they put themselves in a row.

73.

The first played the guitar and sang the following:

Oh cliffs, oh deeps, oh thorns, oh snags, oh stones, Oh mounts, oh plains, oh valleys, rivers, seas, How dear and sweet you show yourselves, For by your aid and favour, To us the sky's unveiled. Oh fortunate and well-directed steps,

The second with the mandoline played and sang:

Oh fortunate and well-directed steps, Oh goddess Circe, oh transcendent woes, With which ye did afflict us months and years; They were the grace of heaven, For such an end as this, After such weariness and such distress.[AH]

[AH] For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.—("St. Paul to the Corinthians.")

The third with the lyre played and sang:

After such weariness and such distress; If such a port the tempests have prescribed, Then is there nothing more that we can do, But render thanks to heaven, Who closely veiled our eyes, And pierced anon with such a light as this.

The fourth with the viola sang:

And pierced anon with such a light as this; Blindness worth more than every other sight, Pains sweeter far than other pleasures are, For to the fairest light Thou art thyself a guide, Show to the soul all lower things are null.

The fifth with the Spanish drum sang:

Showing the soul all lower things are null, Seasoning with hope the high thought of the mind, Was one who pushed us to the only path, And so did show us plain, The fairest work of God, Thus does a fate benign present itself.[AI]

[AI] The lonely sore-footed pilgrims on their way back to their home are never sure to the last moment of not losing their way in this limitless desert of illusion and matter called Earth-life.—("The Secret Doctrine.")

The sixth with a lute sang:

Thus does a fate benign present itself, Who wills not that to good, good should succeed, Or pain forerunner be of pain, But turning round, the wheel, Now rising, now depressed, As day and night succeed alternately.

The seventh with the Irish harp:

As day and night succeed alternately; While the great mantle of the lights of night, Blanches the chariot of diurnal flames, As He who governs all, With everlasting laws, Puts down the high and raises up the low.

The eighth with the violin:

Puts down the high and raises up the low, He who the infinite machine sustains, With swiftness, with the medium or with slow, Apportioning the turning Of this gigantic mass, The hidden is unveiled and open stands.

The ninth with the rebeck:

The hidden is unveiled and open stands, Therefore deny not, but admit the triumph, Incomparable end of all the pains Of field and mount, Of pools and streams and seas, Of cliffs and deeps, of thorns and snags and stones.

After each one in this way, singly, playing his instrument, had sung his sistine, they danced altogether in a circle and sang together in praise of the one Nymph with the softest accents a song which I am not sure whether I can call to memory.

GIU. I pray you, my sister, do not fail to let me hear so much of it as you can remember!

LAO.

74.

Song of the Illuminati:

"I envy not, oh Jove, the firmament," Said Father Ocean, with the haughty brow: "For that I am content With that which my own empire gives to me."

Then answered Jove, "What arrogance is thine. What to thy riches have been added now, Oh god of the mad waves, To make thy foolish boasting rise so high?"

"Thou hast," said the sea-god, "in thy command, The flaming sky, where is the burning zone, In which the heavenly host Of stars and planets stand within thy sight.[AJ]

"Of these, the world looks most upon the sun, Which, let me tell you, shineth not so bright, As she who makes of me, The god most glorious of the mighty whole.

"And I contain within my bosom vast, With other lands, that, where the happy Thames Goes gliding gaily on, Which has of graceful nymphs a lovely throng.

"There will be found 'mongst those where all are fair, Will make thee lover more of sea than sky, Oh Jove, High Thunderer! Whose sun shines pale beside the starry night."

Then answered Jove, "God of the billowy sea! That one should ere be found more blest than I Fate nevermore permits, My treasures with thine own run parallel.

"The sun is equal to thy chiefest nymph, By virtue of the everlasting laws, And pauses alternating, Amongst my stars she's equal to the sun."

[AJ] Plato says that [Greek: Theos] is derived from the verb [Greek: Theein], to move, to run, as the first astronomers who observed the motions of the heavenly bodies called the planets [Greek: Theoi], the gods.—("The Secret Doctrine," foot note, p. 2, vol. 1.)

I believe that I have recalled it entirely.

GIU. You can see that no sentence is wanting to the perfecting of the proposition, nor rhyme to the completion of the stanzas. Now if I by the grace of heaven have received beauty, a greater favour I consider is mine, in that whatever beauty I may have had it has been in a certain way instrumental in causing that Divine and only one to be found. I thank the gods, because in that time, when I was so tender (verde), that the amorous flames could not be lighted in my breast, by reason of my intractability, such simple and innocent cruelty was used in order to yield more graces to my lovers than otherwise it would have been possible for them to obtain, through any kindness of mine however great.

LAO. As to the souls of those lovers, I assure you that as they are not ungrateful to the sorceress Circe for their blindness, grievous thoughts, and bitter trials, by means of which they have reached so great a good, so they can be no less grateful to thee.[AK]

GIU. So I desire and hope.

[AK] For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.—(St. Paul to the Romans.)



Transcriber's Notes:

Page 15: The last paragraph has only one double quote. I think the line quoted is a single sentence, but I'm not sure. The line begins: ["If the love of glory is dear to thy breast,]. Unchanged.

Page 78: LIC is suspected of being a typo for LIB. No other occurences. Unchanged.

Page 79: LAS is suspected to be a typo for LAO, as this name occurs only once. Unchanged.

Page 109: The term selfsame occurs only once without a hyphen. Unchanged.

Footnote L: Keśava could not be represented with a latin-1 character. The ś is an s with an acute accent above.

THE END

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