The Heroic Enthusiasts (Gli Eroici Furori)

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

... 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.

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.

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] 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] 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. 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." I believe that I have recalled it entirely.