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The Divine Comedy
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Paradiso, Cantos XIX thru XXII
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Canto XIX
The last section of the Canto is an acrostic in which the first letters of this section spell out an Old Italian word “LVE” or “LUE” (“V” was equivalent to “U”) meaning “pestilence”. This applies to Dante’s list of a coming plague of European kings, usurpers and traitors. This list is concluded with a warning of a spread of a French corruption.
Canto XXI
Semele fell in love with Jupiter who agreed to love her back if she consents not to see him for what he is but she wants him to show himself and she cannot bear this vision and is turned to ashes. Dante recalls this story to show that it was accepted in Biblical tradition as dangerous to mix the sacred with the profane. Dante’s human nature is limited.
The lesson from the reference to the Semele myth is that our nature is limited and God is hidden for our safety. Beatrice tells Dante not to be eager to know what he is not capable of knowing.
Dante’s eagerness to know more also speaks of how we seek instant gratification in our spiritual endeavors. We are discouraged if we don’t see the results. The road to spiritual self-satisfaction is very long and great deal of patience is required. Jacob’s ladder also symbolizes the way to God in a spirit of humility. Peter Damian tells Dante that even in heaven some questions are beyond human comprehension. We will never know God fully.
There is silence in this heaven and no music as in the other heavens. Beatrice also does not smile. This speaks of the solemnity of contemplation. The commotion and thunder at the end of the Canto is the saints reacting to Peter’s denunciation of the corruption on earth by the pope, bishops, clergy, and monks.
The danger of wanting to know too much than we are capable of handling applies also very well to our investigating too deeply into Church affairs and politics that we hear so much including the sexual abuse scandals lest it endangers ourselves. We may not be spiritually prepared to know what we may find out. There is the danger of being turned to ashes.
The part in this Canto where Peter speaks of God’s eternal law shows us another way of our treating the concept that our earthly understanding is nowhere near comprehending God’s ways. It suggests that we cannot see things as they really are because our hopes and fears distort our understanding. Beatrice tells Dante that we cannot understand why God acts or does not act. We must simply trust Him that he knows what he is doing.
Cant XXII
I found the beginning of the Canto where Beatrice explains the loud cries of the souls at the end of the previous Canto and Dante is frightened like a child running to his mother somewhat amusing. She was Dante’s young girl friend he knew in his early life who has become his guide on this pilgrimage, somewhat like Virgil was earlier on this long journey.
Giuseppe Mazotta in explaining that the sphere of Saturn is the heaven of contemplation and St. Benedict who founded an order of contemplatives gives some interesting background on contemplation. The root of the word is “templum” in Latin for temple and “tempus” for time but both come from Greek “temno” which mean “to cut”. This describes what the contemplatives do--they cut themselves off from space and time of the profane to consider higher things.
Thanks Galicius. Yes, that moment where Dante runs to Beatrice is amusing. I wouldn't say she was once his "girlfriend." He admired her from afar. I'll have my thoughts on these two sections shortly.
I have to say that I love Paradiso perhaps more than the other canticas. I think it's better than Inferno, which may shock some.
I have to say that I love Paradiso perhaps more than the other canticas. I think it's better than Inferno, which may shock some.
Here are some random thoughts and observations on the Jupiter cantos.
Going back to Canto XVIII, the way the lights scroll across the sky, forming letters which spell words, suddenly coalesce, and then forming shapes is, if you think on it, an incredible feat of imagination for someone in Dante’s time. This is like a video game playing itself out on a “screen” in front of Dante. We can easily conceptualize it today, but how could someone in the Middle Ages conceptualize such visuals is stunning. And then Dante (the author) takes it a step further in the visual “technology.” A full bodied bird image forms then morphs into a fleur de lily, and then morphs again into the head of the eagle. Dante is actually visualizing the morphing of shapes. Amazing!
The eagle, if you missed it, is symbolic for the Roman Empire, and represents human justice. When the eagle speaks, it is each individual light speaking in unison, and this has particular significance when considering the notion of justice. What is justice but the application of a society’s values, and each individual member of that society contributes his input to establishing justice. Think of it as a jury of twelve coming to a single verdict. The verdict is the single, unified voice of the jury group, each member having contributed to that voice.
Notice the wonderful imagery Dante (the author) uses to describe that amalgamation of voices into one.
Each single coal individually provides heat, but the amalgamation of each coal’s contribution is felt as a single heat source. And then in the following tercet, Dante addresses the eagle as an amalgamation of a variety of scents:
In some of the other instances when a holy soul or Beatrice reads Dante’s mind about a question, they articulate the question and then answer it. In this section, when Dante (the character) has his mind read on the doubt that has formulated, unlike the previous instances the eagle starts answering the question before it is articulated. I think this might confuse some readers. In Canto XIX, from lines 22 through 33, Dante (the character) tells the eagle he has something on his mind. From lines 40 through 69 the eagle starts answering the question which has not been articulated. In essence what the eagle is saying is that Dante cannot see, does not have the vision to see, the entire creation. Finally from lines 70 to 78 the eagle articulates the hypothetical about a man born in India who can never know the faith. Where is the justice in not having the means to salvation?
It is fitting that in the sphere of Jupiter, that of just rulers, the eagle turns judgement back at Dante (the character). When Dante questions the justice of a pagan incapable of achieving salvation, the eagle says:
To paraphrase, “Who are you with your limited eyesight to judge God?” It’s not just questioning God; it’s judging God.
Dante (the author) seems to associate proper justice with eyesight. Here he contextualizes Dante (the character)’s incorrect judgement of God with limited sight, but when in Canto XX the eagle catalogues six great rulers who were just, their points of light were the ones that made up the eagle’s eye. Indeed, the eagle was known in the middle ages as the creature with the sharpest eyesight.
How ingenious of Dante to formulate an acrostic (a series of lines or verses in which the first, last, or other particular letters when taken in order spell out a word, phrase, etc.) when cataloguing the bad twelve kings that are living in Dante’s time. The acrostic spells lue, which means plague. These kings are a plague.
Again Dante (the author) shows his contempt for his contemporary world by locating the good kings in the distant past and the bad ones in the present. When you look over the geographic span of the bad rulers—from England to Spain to France to Italy to Germany to eastern Europe, he’s identifying a good three quarters, if not more) of his known world as ruled by bad kings. You can’t have more of a condemnation of his existing world than this.
Dante (the character) is taken aback when he hears Trajan and Ripheus are saved. He had just been told that only baptized Christians and Old Testament worthies can be saved. How could this be? The eagle answers:
First the eagle alludes to hell where if you recall there was a sign “Abandon hope all who enter here.” Second the eagle says that through the “living hope” of prayer—and notice “living hope is repeated twice—God’s will can find a way to save all righteous people. They still must be baptized—God’s word cannot be a lie—but our limited sight cannot envision every formulation of God’s workings. So never give up hope and never stop praying for anyone you love.
So why Trajan? Trajan was mentioned in Purgatorio as an example of humility. It alludes to the story of Trajan and the widow. Trajan has gathered an army of a million men and are about to set off on campaign when a widow stops the column and asks for justice for her murdered son. Trajan wants to ignore her but the widow is persistent, and Trajan with pity gets off his horse and stops the march until he can assess justice. He brings justice to a sorrowful woman, a mater delorosa, over her murdered son. Well I think you can see the allusion now.
So why Ripheus? Who is Ripheus? Ripheus is a less than minor character from Vergil’s Aeneid, who is briefly mentioned as a righteous king who dies during the sack of Troy. He is less than obscure. So who can be saved? Everyone from Trajan, the greatest emperor of the greatest empire, to an obscure, inconsequential name from a thousand years before the birth of Christ. Who can be saved? Everyone within the scope of God’s expansive arms.
Going back to Canto XVIII, the way the lights scroll across the sky, forming letters which spell words, suddenly coalesce, and then forming shapes is, if you think on it, an incredible feat of imagination for someone in Dante’s time. This is like a video game playing itself out on a “screen” in front of Dante. We can easily conceptualize it today, but how could someone in the Middle Ages conceptualize such visuals is stunning. And then Dante (the author) takes it a step further in the visual “technology.” A full bodied bird image forms then morphs into a fleur de lily, and then morphs again into the head of the eagle. Dante is actually visualizing the morphing of shapes. Amazing!
The eagle, if you missed it, is symbolic for the Roman Empire, and represents human justice. When the eagle speaks, it is each individual light speaking in unison, and this has particular significance when considering the notion of justice. What is justice but the application of a society’s values, and each individual member of that society contributes his input to establishing justice. Think of it as a jury of twelve coming to a single verdict. The verdict is the single, unified voice of the jury group, each member having contributed to that voice.
Notice the wonderful imagery Dante (the author) uses to describe that amalgamation of voices into one.
Just as from many coals we feel a single heat,
so from that image there came forth
the undivided sound of many loves. (XIX.19-21)
Each single coal individually provides heat, but the amalgamation of each coal’s contribution is felt as a single heat source. And then in the following tercet, Dante addresses the eagle as an amalgamation of a variety of scents:
And I then answered: 'O everlasting blossoms
of eternal bliss, you make all odors
blend into what seems a single fragrance…(22-24)
In some of the other instances when a holy soul or Beatrice reads Dante’s mind about a question, they articulate the question and then answer it. In this section, when Dante (the character) has his mind read on the doubt that has formulated, unlike the previous instances the eagle starts answering the question before it is articulated. I think this might confuse some readers. In Canto XIX, from lines 22 through 33, Dante (the character) tells the eagle he has something on his mind. From lines 40 through 69 the eagle starts answering the question which has not been articulated. In essence what the eagle is saying is that Dante cannot see, does not have the vision to see, the entire creation. Finally from lines 70 to 78 the eagle articulates the hypothetical about a man born in India who can never know the faith. Where is the justice in not having the means to salvation?
It is fitting that in the sphere of Jupiter, that of just rulers, the eagle turns judgement back at Dante (the character). When Dante questions the justice of a pagan incapable of achieving salvation, the eagle says:
'Now, who are you to sit upon the bench,
judging from a thousand miles away
with eyesight that is shorter than a span? (XIX.79-81)
To paraphrase, “Who are you with your limited eyesight to judge God?” It’s not just questioning God; it’s judging God.
Dante (the author) seems to associate proper justice with eyesight. Here he contextualizes Dante (the character)’s incorrect judgement of God with limited sight, but when in Canto XX the eagle catalogues six great rulers who were just, their points of light were the ones that made up the eagle’s eye. Indeed, the eagle was known in the middle ages as the creature with the sharpest eyesight.
How ingenious of Dante to formulate an acrostic (a series of lines or verses in which the first, last, or other particular letters when taken in order spell out a word, phrase, etc.) when cataloguing the bad twelve kings that are living in Dante’s time. The acrostic spells lue, which means plague. These kings are a plague.
Again Dante (the author) shows his contempt for his contemporary world by locating the good kings in the distant past and the bad ones in the present. When you look over the geographic span of the bad rulers—from England to Spain to France to Italy to Germany to eastern Europe, he’s identifying a good three quarters, if not more) of his known world as ruled by bad kings. You can’t have more of a condemnation of his existing world than this.
Dante (the character) is taken aback when he hears Trajan and Ripheus are saved. He had just been told that only baptized Christians and Old Testament worthies can be saved. How could this be? The eagle answers:
'For from Hell, where no one may return
to righteous will, the one came back into his bones --
this his reward for living hope,
'the living hope that furnished power to the prayers
addressed to God to raise him from the dead
so that his will might find its moving force. (XX.106-111)
First the eagle alludes to hell where if you recall there was a sign “Abandon hope all who enter here.” Second the eagle says that through the “living hope” of prayer—and notice “living hope is repeated twice—God’s will can find a way to save all righteous people. They still must be baptized—God’s word cannot be a lie—but our limited sight cannot envision every formulation of God’s workings. So never give up hope and never stop praying for anyone you love.
So why Trajan? Trajan was mentioned in Purgatorio as an example of humility. It alludes to the story of Trajan and the widow. Trajan has gathered an army of a million men and are about to set off on campaign when a widow stops the column and asks for justice for her murdered son. Trajan wants to ignore her but the widow is persistent, and Trajan with pity gets off his horse and stops the march until he can assess justice. He brings justice to a sorrowful woman, a mater delorosa, over her murdered son. Well I think you can see the allusion now.
So why Ripheus? Who is Ripheus? Ripheus is a less than minor character from Vergil’s Aeneid, who is briefly mentioned as a righteous king who dies during the sack of Troy. He is less than obscure. So who can be saved? Everyone from Trajan, the greatest emperor of the greatest empire, to an obscure, inconsequential name from a thousand years before the birth of Christ. Who can be saved? Everyone within the scope of God’s expansive arms.
Some thoughts on the Saturn cantos.
Saturn is the final planet in the spheres. After Saturn will come the sphere of the fixed stars, followed by Prima Mobile, the sphere from which God controls the universe, and finally the heart of heaven, the Empyrean.
Saturn contains those who excelled at mystical contemplation. But didn’t we encounter a group of souls who were mystics in the second garland under the sphere of the sun? Yes, led by St. Bonaventure, but the distinction is that those at the sun were intellectual mystics. The mystics at Saturn were those who lived their lives under total mystical immersion into God. The distinction is a subtle one perhaps. The souls at Saturn tend to be monastics, not friars.
The central image in the realm of Saturn is a ladder stretching all the way up to the Empyrean (if I read correctly) with souls streaming up and down the ladder. It’s a fantastic image and worthy of quoting the entire passage.
The image of the ladder comes from Genesis—Jacob’s ladder—where in a dream Jacob sees angels ascending and descending between heaven and earth. Here Dante (the author) has souls instead of angels traversing up and down, and, since they are already in heaven, Dante has the ladder stretch from Saturn up beyond eyesight toward the end of heaven, possibly to the Empyrean where God and all souls in heaven reside. The ladder is described as the color of gold and either emits or reflects sunlight. The souls going up and down also shine bright, so it makes for a stunning image.
The ladder is a perfect image for those immersed in mystic contemplation. What does a contemplative do but rise up to heaven when in mystical exaltation and return back to earth to share the fruits of his contemplation? Here at the planet closest to God, we find souls who minimize rational thought and enjoy God’s intense grace.
We see this ever increasing grace through Beatrice’s increasing beauty. If you’ve notice, at each station Beatrice appears more intensely beautiful, and that’s because the closer the pilgrim’s travel toward God, the more intense the light that shines, which is allegorical for increasing grace. Beatrice’s “cup” filled with grace, is getting filled higher, which was the image I provided in my comments back in Canto IV to describe a soul’s capacity to receive grace.
So, to answer that question I had back in Canto IV, a soul may not be able to enlarge his cup, but it can get more filled.
Two saints are featured at Saturn. First is Peter Damian, a monastic, who was known for his asceticism and self-mortification. Perhaps an implication can be drawn that through the self-denial and extreme penance, one climbs the ladder toward heaven. It’s interesting he doesn’t come to greet Dante out of willingness but because ultimately he serves the Lord.
The mystical ecstasy he feels in God’s bosom overrides his love of neighbor, but he obeys the Will that moves the world. That’s a pretty amazing statement, and if you think about it, monastics is doing just that—separating themselves from society for love of God. But just as in his real life where Damian was compelled to leave the monastery to become a bishop for society, here too he leaves the Empyrean to greet the travelers.
The other featured saint is St. Benedict of Nursia, the founder of the Benedictine Order, the first major monastic order in the west, and creator of rule that balanced work and prayer. At a time of collapsing civilization the Benedictines preserved civilization through their monasteries and through copying of ancient texts. It is the fruits of contemplation that Dante wishes to emphasize with Benedict.
He was first to bring Christ up the slope of Monte Cassino and provided the truth to the neighboring towns for their conversion. His fellow contemplatives brought down both flowers and fruits from up above. So Peter Damian emphasizes the trip up the ladder to spiritual ecstasy, St. Benedict emphasizes the trip down the ladder to bring graces to earth.
Finally something should be said of the remarkable image of Beatrice and Dante looking down from high above and first seeing the entire solar system below them and then finally the little planet earth. This is akin to the images of space probes we send out to the far reaches of the solar system to take pictures. Indeed, the image of the planet earth is equivalent to the famous photos taken by early space missions where for the first time we had a picture of the earth from the outside. Dante (the author) was over six hundred and fifty years ahead of that.
Saturn is the final planet in the spheres. After Saturn will come the sphere of the fixed stars, followed by Prima Mobile, the sphere from which God controls the universe, and finally the heart of heaven, the Empyrean.
Saturn contains those who excelled at mystical contemplation. But didn’t we encounter a group of souls who were mystics in the second garland under the sphere of the sun? Yes, led by St. Bonaventure, but the distinction is that those at the sun were intellectual mystics. The mystics at Saturn were those who lived their lives under total mystical immersion into God. The distinction is a subtle one perhaps. The souls at Saturn tend to be monastics, not friars.
The central image in the realm of Saturn is a ladder stretching all the way up to the Empyrean (if I read correctly) with souls streaming up and down the ladder. It’s a fantastic image and worthy of quoting the entire passage.
Within the crystal, circling our earth,
that bears the name of the world's belovèd king,
under whose rule all wickedness lay dead,
the color of gold in a ray of sunlight,
I saw a ladder, rising to so great a height
my eyesight could not rise along with it.
I also saw, descending on its rungs,
so many splendors that I thought that every light
shining in the heavens was pouring down.
And as, following their native instinct,
rooks rise up together at the break of day,
warming their feathers, stiffened by the cold,
and some of them fly off, not to return,
while some turn back to where they had set out,
and some keep wheeling overhead,
just such varied motions did I observe
within that sparkling throng, which came as one,
as soon as it had reached a certain rung. (XXI.25-42)
The image of the ladder comes from Genesis—Jacob’s ladder—where in a dream Jacob sees angels ascending and descending between heaven and earth. Here Dante (the author) has souls instead of angels traversing up and down, and, since they are already in heaven, Dante has the ladder stretch from Saturn up beyond eyesight toward the end of heaven, possibly to the Empyrean where God and all souls in heaven reside. The ladder is described as the color of gold and either emits or reflects sunlight. The souls going up and down also shine bright, so it makes for a stunning image.
The ladder is a perfect image for those immersed in mystic contemplation. What does a contemplative do but rise up to heaven when in mystical exaltation and return back to earth to share the fruits of his contemplation? Here at the planet closest to God, we find souls who minimize rational thought and enjoy God’s intense grace.
We see this ever increasing grace through Beatrice’s increasing beauty. If you’ve notice, at each station Beatrice appears more intensely beautiful, and that’s because the closer the pilgrim’s travel toward God, the more intense the light that shines, which is allegorical for increasing grace. Beatrice’s “cup” filled with grace, is getting filled higher, which was the image I provided in my comments back in Canto IV to describe a soul’s capacity to receive grace.
So, to answer that question I had back in Canto IV, a soul may not be able to enlarge his cup, but it can get more filled.
Two saints are featured at Saturn. First is Peter Damian, a monastic, who was known for his asceticism and self-mortification. Perhaps an implication can be drawn that through the self-denial and extreme penance, one climbs the ladder toward heaven. It’s interesting he doesn’t come to greet Dante out of willingness but because ultimately he serves the Lord.
'I have come down the sacred ladder's rungs this far
only to bid you welcome with my words
and with the light that wraps me in its glow.
'It was not greater love that made me come more swiftly,
for as much and more love burns above,
as that flaming luminescence shows,
'but the profound affection prompting us
to serve the Wisdom governing the world
has brought about the outcome you perceive.' (XXI.64-72)
The mystical ecstasy he feels in God’s bosom overrides his love of neighbor, but he obeys the Will that moves the world. That’s a pretty amazing statement, and if you think about it, monastics is doing just that—separating themselves from society for love of God. But just as in his real life where Damian was compelled to leave the monastery to become a bishop for society, here too he leaves the Empyrean to greet the travelers.
The other featured saint is St. Benedict of Nursia, the founder of the Benedictine Order, the first major monastic order in the west, and creator of rule that balanced work and prayer. At a time of collapsing civilization the Benedictines preserved civilization through their monasteries and through copying of ancient texts. It is the fruits of contemplation that Dante wishes to emphasize with Benedict.
'I am he who first brought up the slope
the name of Him who carried down to earth
the truth that so exalts us to the heights.
'And such abundant grace shone down on me
I led the neighboring towns away
from impious worship that misled the world.
'All these other flames spent their lives in contemplation,
kindled by that warmth which brings
both holy flowers and holy fruits to birth. (XXII. 40-48)
He was first to bring Christ up the slope of Monte Cassino and provided the truth to the neighboring towns for their conversion. His fellow contemplatives brought down both flowers and fruits from up above. So Peter Damian emphasizes the trip up the ladder to spiritual ecstasy, St. Benedict emphasizes the trip down the ladder to bring graces to earth.
Finally something should be said of the remarkable image of Beatrice and Dante looking down from high above and first seeing the entire solar system below them and then finally the little planet earth. This is akin to the images of space probes we send out to the far reaches of the solar system to take pictures. Indeed, the image of the planet earth is equivalent to the famous photos taken by early space missions where for the first time we had a picture of the earth from the outside. Dante (the author) was over six hundred and fifty years ahead of that.
Canto XIX
At Jupiter, the lights that formed the eagle burn bright in front of Dante. The individual lights speak in unison, so that a voice appears to come as one from the eagle’s beak. Dante expresses that he has a doubt formulated in his mind of which the eagle must realize. The eagle articulates Dante’s question: where is the justice of a person in not having the ability to be saved only because he did not have the advantage of being born knowing of Christianity? The eagle answers using the same line of argument of God to Job: who are you with your limited vision of the totality to judge God’s ways. God’s will always leads to justice. The eagle further argues that just because one believes in Christ it does not guarantee salvation. Indeed, the worst fates are reserved for those that knew Christ but failed to adhere to His teachings. The eagle then confirms Church teaching that only those baptized in Christ can ultimately be saved. He goes on to identify twelve kings contemporary to Dante that are judged to be plagues to the world: Emperor Albert, Phillip the Fair, Edward I, Ferdinand IV of Castile, Wenceslaus IV, Charles II, Frederick II, James of Aragon, James II of Aragon, Dionysius, Haakon IV, and Stephan II. The eagle also identifies two kingdoms run well (Hungary and Novarre) and one poorly, Cyprus.
Canto XX
Still on Jupiter, when the eagle stops speaking, the individual lights stand out as individual points. In the silence, the murmuring of what appears to be a stream is heard, sounding as if it is a musical instrument projecting from the eagle’s throat. The murmuring is actually individual voices not speaking in unison, and, when they finally go back to speaking in unison, the eagle describes the single points of light that make up his eye. Six bright souls, all former kings, form this eye: King David from the Old Testament, Trajan the Roman Emperor, Hezekiah from the Old Testament, the Emperor Constantine, William the Good of Sicily, and Ripheus the Trojan. These six good kings contrast with the twelve bad ones from the previous canto. At this, Dante (the character) expresses surprise. Two of the good kings in heaven are pagans, Trajan and Ripheus. He had just been told that only baptized Christians (and Old Testament worthies) could be saved. The eagle goes on to explain that God had found a way to baptize those souls into Christianity, which ultimately came from the power of prayer. Trajan was baptized through the prayer of Pope Gregory and Ripheus through the prayer of the three ladies of the Christian virtues. The eagle concludes that only God can know the fates of souls.
Canto XXI
Abruptly the pilgrims are rising toward the next sphere, Saturn, and Dante (the character) turns to look at Beatrice, who is even more beautiful but now not smiling. She tells him that if he smiled now, he would be burnt to ashes. Into the crystal planet of Saturn he sees a ladder of great height with many shining lights of souls coming down and still others flying off. One light of a soul is close by, and his brightness intensifies as Dante gives him attention. Beatrice encourages a hesitant Dante to ask what is on his mind. Dante asks two questions. What has caused the spirit to approach them and why has heaven here at Saturn gone silent? He answers that he has come down the ladder to bid Dante welcome. He explains that heaven has not gone silent but that Dante’s mortal ears could withstand the beauty of the music, much like Dante would burn to ash if Beatrice smiled. Dante then asks a third question, why the spirit was charged to welcome the pilgrims. In joy to the question, the light spins like a wheel and says that an answer to that question is impossible for anyone but God to reveal. Dante then withdraws the question and simply asks who the soul is. The soul says he is Peter Damien, cloistered monk and had lived a life of mystical immersion—Saturn being the sphere of mystical contemplation—until, that is, he was compelled to become a bishop. Damien then denounces the luxuries of Dante’s contemporary bishops, so bloated, he says, that their horses sag under their weight. Suddenly a loud cry is heard that freezes Dante in fear.
Canto XXII
Still on Saturn, Dante in fear from the shout turns to Beatrice for guidance. She comforts him and reminds him he is in heaven where everything is holy. She explains that the shouts are prayers which his mortal ears cannot comprehend or process, just as her smile cannot be seen or it will turn him into ash. She then directs his gaze to where one hundred glittering lights are now near them. The largest of these lights speaks up in response to Dante’s thought on who it might be. The splendor narrates the key details of his life from which we can deduce—it is never actually said—he is St. Benedict, the founder of the Benedictine Order. Benedict explains that these flames on Saturn once lived lives of contemplation. He names a couple of these souls. Dante asks him if he may see his face unveiled, and Benedict promises him he will when he reaches the highest sphere. He explains that the ladder on Saturn is a bridge to that highest sphere and goes on say that now on earth his famous rule is but a waste of paper since so few now have the discipline to keep it. Finally Benedict and the other souls disappear up the ladder. Dante and Beatrice then ascend to the next sphere, which is not a planet, but rows of fixed stars. From that height, Beatrice has Dante look back down and see the smallness of the planet Earth.