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    Canto XVII

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    As came to Clymene, to be made certain
    Of that which he had heard against himself,
    He who makes fathers chary still to children,
    Even such was I, and such was I perceived
    By Beatrice and by the holy light
    That first on my account had changed its place.
    Therefore my Lady said to me: "Send forth
    The flame of thy desire, so that it issue
    Imprinted well with the internal stamp;
    Not that our knowledge may be greater made
    By speech of thine, but to accustom thee
    To tell thy thirst, that we may give thee drink."
    "O my beloved tree, (that so dost lift thee,
    That even as minds terrestrial perceive
    No triangle containeth two obtuse,
    So thou beholdest the contingent things
    Ere in themselves they are, fixing thine eyes
    Upon the point in which all times are present,)
    While I was with Virgilius conjoined
    Upon the mountain that the souls doth heal,
    And when descending into the dead world,
    Were spoken to me of my future life
    Some grievous words; although I feel myself
    In sooth foursquare against the blows of chance.
    On this account my wish would be content
    To hear what fortune is approaching me,
    Because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly."
    Thus did I say unto that selfsame light
    That unto me had spoken before; and even
    As Beatrice willed was my own will confessed.
    Not in vague phrase, in which the foolish folk
    Ensnared themselves of old, ere yet was slain
    The Lamb of God who taketh sins away,
    But with clear words and unambiguous
    Language responded that paternal love,
    Hid and revealed by its own proper smile:
    "Contingency, that outside of the volume
    Of your materiality extends not,
    Is all depicted in the eternal aspect.
    Necessity however thence it takes not,
    Except as from the eye, in which 'tis mirrored,
    A ship that with the current down descends.
    From thence, e'en as there cometh to the ear
    Sweet harmony from an organ, comes in sight
    To me the time that is preparing for thee.
    As forth from Athens went Hippolytus,
    By reason of his step-dame false and cruel,
    So thou from Florence must perforce depart.
    Already this is willed, and this is sought for;
    And soon it shall be done by him who thinks it,
    Where every day the Christ is bought and sold.

    The blame shall follow the offended party
    In outcry as is usual; but the vengeance
    Shall witness to the truth that doth dispense it.
    Thou shalt abandon everything beloved
    Most tenderly, and this the arrow is
    Which first the bow of banishment shoots forth.
    Thou shalt have proof how savoureth of salt
    The bread of others, and how hard a road
    The going down and up another's stairs.
    And that which most shall weigh upon thy shoulders
    Will be the bad and foolish company
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