The Promise of the Ascent

She ceased, but I stood fixed by the sweetness of the song in wonderment and eager expectation, my ears still strained to listen. And then after a little I said: 'Thou sovereign solace of the stricken soul, what refreshment hast thou brought me, no less by the sweetness of thy singing than by the weightiness of thy discourse! Verily, I think not that I shall hereafter be unequal to the blows of Fortune. Wherefore, I no longer dread the remedies which thou saidst were something too severe for my strength; nay, rather, I am eager to hear of them and call for them with all vehemence.'

Then said she: 'I marked thee fastening upon my words silently and intently, and I expected, or—to speak more truly—I myself brought about in thee, this state of mind. What now remains is of such sort that to the taste indeed it is biting, but when received within it turns to sweetness. But whereas thou dost profess thyself desirous of hearing, with what ardour wouldst thou not burn didst thou but perceive whither it is my task to lead thee!'

'Whither?' said I.

'To true felicity,' said she, 'which even now thy spirit sees in dreams, but cannot behold in very truth, while thine eyes are engrossed with semblances.'

Then said I: 'I beseech thee, do thou show to me her true shape without a moment's loss.'

'Gladly will I, for thy sake,' said she. 'But first I will try to sketch in words, and describe a cause which is more familiar to thee, that, when thou hast viewed this carefully, thou mayst turn thy eyes the other way, and recognise the beauty of true happiness.'

She had just finished her song, when the sweetness of the singing left me spellbound, eager to hear more, my ears still strained and attentive. And so, a little later, I said: "You who are the supreme comfort of weary souls, how you have revived me, both by the weight of your thoughts and by the delight of your singing, so that I no longer think myself unequal to the blows of fortune! Therefore those remedies you said were somewhat sharper I now not only do not dread, but, hungry to hear them, I ask for them with all my heart."

Then she said: "I sensed it, when you silently and attentively seized upon my words; and I either waited for this disposition of your mind, or, what is truer, brought it about myself. For the things that remain are such that, on first tasting, they bite, but once taken within, they grow sweet. But since you say you are eager to hear, with what ardor you would burn if you knew where I am attempting to lead you!"

"Where?" I asked.

"To true happiness," she said, "the happiness your own soul also dreams of; but because your sight is taken up with images, you cannot behold that true happiness itself."

Then I said: "I beg you, do it; and show me without delay what that true happiness is."

"I will do so gladly," she said, "for your sake. But first I will try to mark out in words and give shape to the thing that is better known to you, so that, once you have looked it over closely, you may turn your eyes to the opposite side and recognize the very pattern of true blessedness."