Non Bacco, non Peana: Glimpsing Par. 14

A brief look back at the Sun, and a quick look ahead to Mars.

The main story of the five cantos of the Sun delineates in great detail the solar force of the Church. It composes itself before our eyes as a series of layers, creating a complex image of a chariot of the Sun. Like the actual sun, it nurtures life through heat and light. But these attributes of the Church are not merely physical, nor do they rest upon philosophical first principles. From the first, the cantos of the Sun debunk the power of logic as the arbiter of judgment and basis of wisdom.

Rather than axioms, the true first principles of the Church are individual lives -- specifically, Francis and Dominic -- they are at one point called principi, and are the living embodiments of primal ardor and intellect. They are the wheels of the Church's solar chariot at work in historical time, and their 24 disciples actively extend their powers (even those who preceded them chronologically, apparently).

As the set of five solar cantos concludes, we see even more clearly how pattern recognition, which is basic to knowledge, is both insisted upon and shown to be utterly imperfect as a model or sign of the truth. The necessary imperfection of the sublunar world is the way things are, and nothing the human mind can construct or imagine will offer more than an approximation. The 24-line opening of canto 13 ends with:

poi ch'è tanto di là da nostra usanza,
quanto di là dal mover de la Chiana
si move il ciel che tutti li altri avanza.

Because it is as much beyond our wont,
As swifter than the motion of the Chiana
Moveth the heaven that all the rest outspeeds.

In discussing, we didn't address what immediately comes after this awareness of the sketchiness of our awareness:

Lì si cantò non Bacco, non Peana,
ma tre persone in divina natura,
e in una persona essa e l'umana.

There sang they neither Bacchus, nor Apollo,
  But in the divine nature Persons three,
  And in one person the divine and human.  (13.25-27)

The canto opened, we recall, with numbers -- the 15 stars, the 7, the 2 -- we combined them to get the sum of the disciples of Francis and Dominic. This is arithmetically coherent. But now, here's a new math, in which three persons can be one, which in turn can be two. The austere, rigorous system elucidated by every mathematician from Euclid to Fibonacci is scrambled. Our rational capacity to count is broken.

The Trinity was evoked by Thomas, but here it seems to mark a rupture with everyday reality. Not Apollo, not Dionysus. A song beyond anything the ancients imagined, Revelation outside number, beyond ecstatic dream.

Canto 14 will conclude the enlightenment of the Sun with an account of the resurrection of the body, after which Dante and Beatrice will be translated (translato - used at 14.81 for the only time) to the next realm of Paradiso, to a vast red galaxy that sweeps us into the sublime:

Come distinta da minori e maggi
lumi biancheggia tra ' poli del mondo
Galassia sì, che fa dubbiar ben saggi;

Even as distinct with less and greater lights
Glimmers between the two poles of the world
The Galaxy that maketh wise men doubt . . .

A few notes . . . (part 3)

This is the third in a series of posts about the opening movement of Dante's Paradiso. 

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5

If the faces in the Moon in Paradiso 3 turn out to be "really there," as opposed to being mere images or reflections, that reassuring sense of a determinate position in space gets turned on its head in canto 4, when Beatrice explains how Piccarda and the others whom Dante has just encountered are always actually in the Empyrean:

ma tutti fanno bello il primo giro,
e differentemente han dolce vita
per sentir più e men l'etterno spiro.

But all make beautiful the primal circle,
And have sweet life in different degrees,
By feeling more or less the eternal breath. (Par. 4. 34-36)

The literal ground Dante and the others stand "in" - the moon, falls away. Beatrice's words scramble the concept of presence. Instead of the polarity of presence/absence, we are invited to entertain another medium or mode, which Beatrice will call "condescension."

Ungrounding 

Before we get to that, I'd like to try, however tentatively, to trace a recurrent gesture in Paradiso:

• In canto 1, the poet makes sure we understand that the text we are reading (or listening to) is but a shadow of a shadow of an experience, an experience he no longer can recall.

• Something to cling to arrives in canto 2. Beatrice makes sure Dante understands that moon spots are not simply to be understood as variations in material density. Indeed she offers a replicable, empirical scientific experiment using mirrors to help demonstrate that a simple material principle will not explain the rich diversity of all that is.* Empirical knowledge and logical reasoning here are held up as authoritative ways for human beings to speculate about things they cannot directly experience.

• That apparent gain in epistemic stability is challenged in canto 3, when Dante, now in the Moon, finds the very notion of "ground" has become problematic. The labile medium of the Moon makes it hard to tell how he, others, and the Moon occupy the same space. The faces that are suddenly before him seem reflections, appearing as if reflected on shallow water, and later disappear into seeming watery depths. The medium has no fondo, no ground -- one moment it seems shallow, the next moment profound. But it is not a reflective surface. Beatrice assures the pilgrim that Piccarda, Costanza and the others are vere sustanze.

• The assurance of vere sustanze is further complicated when Dante learns in canto 4 that Piccarda and all souls in Paradiso are always actually in the Empyrean. It's not that Piccarda could be speaking to him either from a few feet away or from a point infinitely beyond all distance. Entangled, both are true at once: the vere sustanze are "here" and "there." The structure of Paradiso is really not a structure as we normally think of it, something resting on a foundation that rests on terra firma situated in space. Here, like the earth under Amphiaraus at Thebes, ground falls away. We're shading into the Uncanny, and certain elements in cantos 3 and 4 evoke its frisson.

Oscillating

If one were to attempt to characterize more concisely a pattern in these opening cantos, a figure in the carpet, it is perhaps something like this:

• Canto 2: A gain in perceptual knowledge (illumination) is posited using negative proofs from the sensory realm.
• Canto 3: That illuminating gain is then complicated as sense perception is put in question, leaving us lacking in sense certainty, but confident at least of the underlying reality of substance.
• Canto 4: Substance is complicated, scrambled. It turns out that Paradiso is not a "place" subject to space and time. Rather, signs are being made

The effect is not unlike a recurring, self-effacing oscillation: Each time we think we've got a purchase on Paradise, there's a loss of certitude, a vanishing of grounds for judgement. For the visitor, it's not unlike being out to sea:

metter potete ben per l'alto sale

vostro navigio, servando mio solco

dinanzi a l'acqua che ritorna equale.

Well may you launch upon the deep salt-sea

Your vessel, keeping still my wake before you

Upon the water that grows smooth again. (Par. 2. 13-15)

The opening cantos have put the pilgrim and us on an epistemological roller-coaster, and the ride is not yet over. Like the wake that is the only trace of the poet's vessel, a trace soon erased, so the proper (object) of Paradiso keeps receding.

It's not that with each loss comes some compensatory gain, as if automatically. Rather, it's sink or swim: loss opens the way to the possibility of acceding to another kind of apprehension. It's up to you. As Beatrice says to Dante at one point, watch your step:

“Non ti maravigliar perch' io sorrida,"
mi disse,“appresso il tuo püeril coto,
poi sopra 'l vero ancor lo piè non fida,

ma te rivolve, come suole, a vòto:"  

"Marvel thou not," she said to me, "because I smile
at this thy puerile conceit,
Since on the truth it trusts not yet its foot,

But turns thee, as 'tis wont, on emptiness." (Par. 3. 25-28)

If the senses and substance -- the reliable earthly bases of Aristotle's understanding of Nature -- are not sure guides to the mansion of God, what is? The ground is more quicksand than terra firma.

The opening movement of Paradiso conducts us to a carefully orchestrated cognitive crisis. By the time we reach the account of condescending in canto 4, it is an open question whether, like poor Nebuchadnezzar, we can even begin to say what we are experiencing, let alone penetrate to what it means. We might even have a spasm of sympathy for the king's murderous frustration with his "magicians, enchanters, sorcerers and astrologers." Lunacy impends.

The stakes for the poet, the poem, and its readers, have never been higher.

*For a parallel contemporary account of popular astronomy, see Ethan Siegal, Beyond the Galaxy. Chapter 1 here is free. 

To be continued . . . 

A few notes on how the Paradiso begins

First in a series of posts about the opening movement of Dante's Paradiso. 

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5

The first tercet of the Paradiso puts into play three ways that la gloria manifests:

La gloria di colui che tutto move

per l'universo penetra, e risplende

in una parte più e meno altrove. 

These modes are in tension. One might think of gloria as light, but it is also power. It has three attributes: it moves all, it penetrates all that exists, and it shines back in some parts more, less in others.

It will take Dante the rest of the canticle to fully work out the implications of this tercet. A few notes:

As all authors must, Dante has to establish early on the sources of his authority and set out the scope of his argument. Paradiso offers the eyes and voice of Beatrice, and the inspiration of "Apollo." Canto 1 makes clear that the poet's experience is compromised severely: he can't actually remember more than a shadow of this voyage. Unlike the old Ulysses, not only will this new seafarer among the stars not have a simple tale to relate; he also can't be sure to what extent what he does relate represents what he experienced.

In Canto 2, Beatrice offers an experiment** to help Dante see that the variations in the visible universe cannot be explained by a simple materialist model with one differentiating principle, i.e., density.

The use of a replicable experiment along with the logic of her argument seems to provide some grounds for hope that mankind may possess some reliable knowledge of the heavens.

But this apparent clarity will be challenged in the first circle. In Canto 2.37-39, he finds himself in the moon -- somehow his body (corpo) and the Moon occupy the same point in space:

S'io era corpo, e qui non si concepe

com' una dimensione altra patio,

ch'esser convien se corpo in corpo repe,

If I was body, (and we here conceive not

How one dimension tolerates another,

Which needs must be if body enter body,)

And, if he can't quite understand his body's relationship to the moon, it gets more complicated.

In Canto 3 he meets Piccarda, one of several faces that appear in the moon's pearly . . . one can't quite say surface, since he and they are less "on" the moon than in it. The faces at first seem a kind of mirror image of Beatrice's mirror experiment from Canto 2. They seem reflections (3.10-15):

Quali per vetri trasparenti e tersi,
o ver per acque nitide e tranquille,
non sì profonde che i fondi sien persi, 

tornan d'i nostri visi le postille
debili sì, che perla in bianca fronte
non vien men forte a le nostre pupille;

Such as through polished and transparent glass,
Or waters crystalline and undisturbed,
But not so deep as that their bed be lost,

Come back again the outlines of our faces
So feeble, that a pearl on forehead white
Comes not less speedily unto our eyes;

But the faces turn out to be not reflections (risplende) but rather, like Dante, somehow have penetrated (penetra) the moon (3.16-24): 

tali vid' io più facce a parlar pronte;
per ch'io dentro a l'error contrario corsi
a quel ch'accese amor tra l'omo e 'l fonte.

Sùbito sì com' io di lor m'accorsi,
quelle stimando specchiati sembianti,
per veder di cui fosser, li occhi torsi;

e nulla vidi, e ritorsili avanti
dritti nel lume de la dolce guida,
che, sorridendo, ardea ne li occhi santi.

Such saw I many faces ready to speak,
So that I ran in error opposite
To that which kindled love 'twixt man and fountain.

As soon as I became aware of them,
Esteeming them as mirrored semblances,
To see of whom they were, mine eyes I turned, 

And nothing saw, and once more turned them forward
Direct into the light of my sweet guide,
Who, smiling, glowed in her holy eyes.

In a marvelous, delicate allusion (3.16-18), the poet tells us that his dis-covering that the images are not images - turning around to see the source of the reflections, he sees nothing (nulla)* - was an error the precise opposite of that which ignited Narcissus's love.

Can we see a pattern developing here? What do the scientific rigor of Beatrice's mirror experiment and the entire question of the man in the moon have to do with the pilgrim's profound corporeal and spatial disorientation in Canto 3, and with perhaps more fundamental indeterminacies opened up in Canto 4?

to be continued . . .

This is the fourth in a series of posts about the opening movement of Dante's Paradiso. Here are the other parts: 

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4

===

*Note that the pilgrim's mistake in Paradiso 3 can productively be read in relation to a different mistake made by him in Purgatorio 3, which we examined in some detail here and here -- the moment when he doesn't see Virgil's shadow, and infers (falsely) that his guide has abandoned him.

**Thanks to Paul Johnston for sharing this representation of Beatrice's thought-experiment from Mark Musa's Paradise: Commentary. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2004. p. 23.

Experiencing nothing: Ulysses in Inferno 26

[Note: this post has undergone several revisions - I hope it's now "finished."]

Our stimulating discussion of Inferno 26 today made it clearer to me than ever before how rich and enigmatic the canto of Ulysses is. I won't try to summarize the many fine points made by everyone, or the positions regarding whether to find damnable fault, and where, in the career of the Greek hero.

I just want to make a couple of place-holding points while fresh in mind. First, the canto is resonant with images of light, fire, sun, moon, and things large and small. More than just large or small, there is a strange almost quantum effect in which something that was small becomes quite huge, while never ceasing to be small. Scale is liquid, and ingegno, the Muse, must be restrained even as Dante is nearly overwhelmed in the presence of his classical double, the hero of many turns, whose rhetorical art was capable of putting in motion consequences beyond his control.

If nothing else, the presence of Ulysses -- both implicit and via explicit allusion --throughout all three canticles ought to make it clear that Athena's favorite is the predecessor and double of the pilgrim who is following Virgil through hell and purgatory. Take the alto passo where Ulysses meets his end. When we learn from this unique tale that Ulysses drowned within sight of the Mount of Purgatory, we might experience a certain uncanny frisson, remembering the pilgrim lost in the wood who looks back at the passo where he nearly drowned, and looks up at a mountain he cannot climb.

E come quei che con lena affannata,
    uscito fuor del pelago a la riva,
    si volge a l’acqua perigliosa e guata,
così l’animo mio, ch’ancor fuggiva,
    si volse a retro a rimirar lo passo
    che non lasciò già mai persona viva.

And just as someone who, with panting chest,
    Has made his way to shore from the deep sea
    Turns back to gaze at the deadly waters crossed,
So too my mind, continuing to flee,
    Turned back to look again upon that trail
    That never yet let living man go free.*

More allusions to Ulysses come later in the poem And the tale he tells, of seeking to experience the unknown, to know it, presents a paradox basic to the quest: what is there to know if there is still the striving for knowledge, but nothing left in the world to know?

Ulysses is in hell, says Virgil, because he used his arte and ingegno to cause certain events to occur. We have seen this illustrated in granular detail in our reading of the Philoctetes, but it's built in to the mythos of the great-grandson of Hermes. Unlike the horses that took Elijah to the highest, Ulysses fashioned a false horse and the lie that got it into Troy.

Ulysses troubled Dante, just as had the noble ancients of Limbo, and Dante gives him a staggering last hurrah. Profound recognition and admiration -- as well as unsettling fascination and longing -- accompany Dante's encounter with this figure. All the terror of canto 1 is there, at the end of canto 26:

Tre volte il fé girar con tutte l’acque;
    a la quarta levar la poppa in suso
    e la prora ire in giù, com’ altrui piacque,
infin che ’l mar fu sovra noi richiuso.

Ulysses might be damned to the eighth bolgia for his false light of counsel, but his grit is all too human. Which raises the question of how to read his ultimate contrapasso. One might be advised to tread carefully when attempting to read divine judgment.

What Virgil does not say is that Ulysses is damned for seeking to know the unknown. One way to see Dante's tale of Ulysses' final voyage is as a parody of grace. No other living mortal -- certainly no pagan -- ever laid eyes on the Mount of Purgatory. If the Deity wished to bar Ulysses from overreaching, a turbo could have sunk his little boat anywhere along its folle volo. "Altrui" didn't prevent it from reaching visual range of Purgatory.

This is a man who lacked knowledge of Revelation,  but almost stole it.

The summit of human striving goes no further -- Ulysses doesn't even make it to the soggy beach at the base of the mount. His double, Dante, will. Ulysses is graced with an extraordinary glimpse before he drowns. The pilgrim goes a different route, one that is in touch not only with classical wisdom but endowed with Revelation, and goes beyond Ulysses by a different way, not under his own steam.

No other human, not even Heracles, came close to what Ulysses experienced. The punishing irony: he has no idea what he experienced. He saw with the naked eye what could not be seen, what could not be part of experience or knowledge in the classical, horizontal sense: the upward spiraling ladder of Revelation may only be gratuitously given, never discovered, uncovered, inferred or deduced by any inquiry, math or logic. To see revealed truth without Revelation is tantamount to seeing nothing at all.

*Translation courtesy of Peter D'Epiro.

Punishing irony: Virgil's witness in Inferno 4

In Canto 4 of the Inferno, Dante turns to Virgil and asks him a veiled (coperto) question:

“Now tell me, master, tell me this alone,”
I said to him, wishing to be assured
Of that faith by which all doubt is overthrown,
“Have any gone from here and then secured
Salvation, by their own or Another’s fee?”*

Virgil replies:

And he, who understood my covert word,
Said, “This condition was still new to me
When I beheld a Mighty One appear,
Who was crowned with a sign of victory.
He took our first begetter’s shade from here,
With Abel, Noah, and Moses, who did show
The laws to man and how to hold them dear;
King David and Abraham of long ago;
Israel with his father and his seed,
And Rachel, for whose sake he labored so;
And many more, and made them blest indeed.
And I would have you know I can attest
That, before these, no human souls were freed.”*

This exchange is of interest for several reasons. For one, it's the witness of a lost soul to the harrowing of hell and liberation of a select few. Virgil, who had died about 50 years earlier than this event, attests first-hand to the act of a "Mighty One."

ci vidi venire un possente

The event became one of the articles of the Christian creed, but Virgil recounts it  in the words of an honorable Roman. Un possente is a generic term for anyone of power, and, while accurate as far as it goes, it is blank with regard to the unique identity of the Mighty One: the martyred Son of the God of Abraham, fresh from his trial and crucifixion.

Virgil speaks of what he sees. His natural light of human reason can and does report and support the faith Dante and all Christians practice, flowing from Scripture. What Virgil "sees" is veiled to him - the facts are reported, but their full and unique implications are not.

What we as readers find here is something I think Dante the poet does throughout his Comedìa-- a poetic enactment of the profound discontinuity between the light of reason, art and science on one hand, and revelation via the Book, on the other.

In a sense, what the moment does is reproduce Dante's reading of Virgil. In the moment that Virgil voices and demonstrates his authority as teacher, guide, prophet, poet and witness, we find a blindness, a falling short -- the irony of an inescapable ignorance. It is a punishing irony, consigning him to hopeless finality in a half-lit suspense of endless desire, and more ironic because in its helplessness (vis a vis Virgil), it helps Dante overcome doubt.

Dante dramatizes the reality that obtains in a world where human genius, nobility of spirit and incorrigible honor just are not enough. For Virgil and the rest of those in Limbo, what the mind and sense and soul can see, and what the imagination or inspiration can intimate, is merely the outward appearance of a unique event whose full import -- the breaking not of rocks alone, but of the rule of death -- remains "coperto." Another word for that might be "illegible."

We'll want to be on the lookout for further examples of this mode of poetic acting out in the Comedìa. With Revelation comes a shattering literacy.

*From an unpublished translation of the Inferno by Peter D'Epiro.

Hints of the War in Heaven

The Scriptural basis for the war in heaven is - you guessed it - Revelation. Before that, there is very little deviltry in the Bible.

Here are a few mentions: Isaiah 14: 12-20:

12: How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!
13: For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north:
14: I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High.
15: Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit.
16: They that see thee shall narrowly look upon thee, and consider thee, saying, Is this the man that made the earth to tremble, that did shake kingdoms;
17: That made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof; that opened not the house of his prisoners?
18: All the kings of the nations, even all of them, lie in glory, every one in his own house.
19: But thou art cast out of thy grave like an abominable branch, and as the raiment of those that are slain, thrust through with a sword, that go down to the stones of the pit; as a carcase trodden under feet.
20: Thou shalt not be joined with them in burial, because thou hast destroyed thy land, and slain thy people: the seed of evildoers shall never be renowned.

Isaiah uses a Hebrew word that means "morning star," which was translated into Greek as ἑωσφόρος, which in Latin and English became "Lucifer":

H1966
הילל
הֵילֵל ‎ hêylêl
hay-lale‘
From 1984 (in the sense of brightness); the morning star: - lucifer.

In Luke 10:18 we find Jesus saying:

18 And¹¹⁶¹ he said²⁰³⁶ unto them,⁸⁴⁶ I beheld²³³⁴ Satan⁴⁵⁶⁷ as⁵⁶¹³ lightning⁷⁹⁶ fall⁴⁰⁹⁸ from¹⁵³⁷heaven.³⁷⁷²

The Greek is σατανᾶν, the Latin is Satanam.

Another passage sometimes cited is in Ezekiel 28:14 - 19:

14 Thou⁸⁵⁹ art the anointed⁴⁴⁷³ cherub³⁷⁴² that covereth;⁵⁵²⁶ and I have set⁵⁴¹⁴ thee so: thou wast¹⁹⁶¹ upon the holy⁶⁹⁴⁴ mountain²⁰²² of God;⁴³⁰ thou hast walked up and down¹⁹⁸⁰ in the midst⁸⁴³² of the stones⁶⁸ of fire.⁷⁸⁴

15 Thou⁸⁵⁹ wast perfect⁸⁵⁴⁹ in thy ways¹⁸⁷⁰ from the day^{4480 3117} that thou wast created,¹²⁵⁴till⁵⁷⁰⁴ iniquity⁵⁷⁶⁶ was found⁴⁶⁷² in thee.

16 By the multitude⁷²³⁰ of thy merchandise⁷⁴⁰⁴ they have filled⁴³⁹⁰ the midst⁸⁴³² of thee with violence,²⁵⁵⁵ and thou hast sinned:²³⁹⁸ therefore I will cast thee as profane²⁴⁹⁰ out of the mountain^{4480 2022} of God:⁴³⁰ and I will destroy⁶ thee, O covering⁵⁵²⁶ cherub,³⁷⁴² from the midst^{4480 8432} of the stones⁶⁸ of fire.⁷⁸⁴

17 Thine heart³⁸²⁰ was lifted up¹³⁶¹ because of thy beauty,³³⁰⁸ thou hast corrupted⁷⁸⁴³ thy wisdom²⁴⁵¹ by reason of⁵⁹²¹ thy brightness:³³¹⁴ I will cast⁷⁹⁹³ thee to⁵⁹²¹ the ground,⁷⁷⁶ I will lay⁵⁴¹⁴ thee before⁶⁴⁴⁰ kings,⁴⁴²⁸ that they may behold⁷²⁰⁰ thee.

18 Thou hast defiled²⁴⁹⁰ thy sanctuaries⁴⁷²⁰ by the multitude^{4480 7230} of thine iniquities,⁵⁷⁷¹ by the iniquity⁵⁷⁶⁶ of thy traffic;⁷⁴⁰⁴ therefore will I bring forth³³¹⁸ a fire⁷⁸⁴ from the midst^{4480 8432} of thee, it¹⁹³¹ shall devour³⁹⁸ thee, and I will bring⁵⁴¹⁴ thee to ashes⁶⁶⁵ upon⁵⁹²¹ the earth⁷⁷⁶ in the sight⁵⁸⁶⁹ of all³⁶⁰⁵ them that behold⁷²⁰⁰ thee.

19 All³⁶⁰⁵ they that know³⁰⁴⁵ thee among the people⁵⁹⁷¹ shall be astonished⁸⁰⁷⁴ at⁵⁹²¹ thee: thou shalt be¹⁹⁶¹ a terror,¹⁰⁹¹ and never³⁶⁹ shalt thou be any more.^{5704 5769}

The word "cherub" is from the Hebrew, and is constant through all four languages:

H3742
כּרוּב
כְּרוּב ‎ k^erûb
ker-oob‘
Of uncertain derivation; a cherub or imaginary figure: - cherub, [plural] cherubims.

The source of the "war in heaven" as a dramatic scene is Rev. 12:7-12:

7 And²⁵³² there was¹⁰⁹⁶ war⁴¹⁷¹ in¹⁷²² heaven:³⁷⁷² Michael³⁴¹³ and²⁵³² his⁸⁴⁸ angels³²fought⁴¹⁷⁰ against²⁵⁹⁶ the³⁵⁸⁸ dragon;¹⁴⁰⁴ and²⁵³² the³⁵⁸⁸ dragon¹⁴⁰⁴ fought⁴¹⁷⁰ and²⁵³²his⁸⁴⁸ angels,³²

8 And²⁵³² prevailed²⁴⁸⁰ not;³⁷⁵⁶ neither³⁷⁷⁷ was their⁸⁴⁸ place⁵¹¹⁷ found²¹⁴⁷ any more²⁰⁸⁹in¹⁷²² heaven.³⁷⁷²

9 And²⁵³² the³⁵⁸⁸ great³¹⁷³ dragon¹⁴⁰⁴ was cast out,⁹⁰⁶ that old⁷⁴⁴ serpent,³⁷⁸⁹ called²⁵⁶⁴the Devil,¹²²⁸ and²⁵³² Satan,⁴⁵⁶⁷ which deceiveth⁴¹⁰⁵ the³⁵⁸⁸ whole³⁶⁵⁰ world:³⁶²⁵ he was cast out⁹⁰⁶ into¹⁵¹⁹ the³⁵⁸⁸ earth,¹⁰⁹³ and²⁵³² his⁸⁴⁸ angels³² were cast out⁹⁰⁶ with³³²⁶him.⁸⁴⁶

10 And²⁵³² I heard¹⁹¹ a loud³¹⁷³ voice⁵⁴⁵⁶ saying³⁰⁰⁴ in¹⁷²² heaven,³⁷⁷² Now⁷³⁷ is come¹⁰⁹⁶ salvation,⁴⁹⁹¹ and²⁵³² strength,¹⁴¹¹ and²⁵³² the³⁵⁸⁸ kingdom⁹³² of our²²⁵⁷ God,²³¹⁶and²⁵³² the³⁵⁸⁸ power¹⁸⁴⁹ of his⁸⁴⁸ Christ:⁵⁵⁴⁷ for³⁷⁵⁴ the³⁵⁸⁸ accuser²⁷²⁵ of our²²⁵⁷brethren⁸⁰ is cast down,²⁵⁹⁸ which accused²⁷²³ them⁸⁴⁶ before¹⁷⁹⁹ our²²⁵⁷ God²³¹⁶ day²²⁵⁰and²⁵³² night.³⁵⁷¹

11 And²⁵³² they⁸⁴⁶ overcame³⁵²⁸ him⁸⁴⁶ by¹²²³ the³⁵⁸⁸ blood¹²⁹ of the³⁵⁸⁸ Lamb,⁷²¹and²⁵³² by¹²²³ the³⁵⁸⁸ word³⁰⁵⁶ of their⁸⁴⁸ testimony;³¹⁴¹ and²⁵³² they loved²⁵ not³⁷⁵⁶their⁸⁴⁸ lives⁵⁵⁹⁰ unto⁸⁹¹ the death.²²⁸⁸

12 Therefore^{1223 5124} rejoice,²¹⁶⁵ ye heavens,³⁷⁷² and²⁵³² ye that dwell⁴⁶³⁷ in¹⁷²² them.⁸⁴⁶Woe³⁷⁵⁹ to the³⁵⁸⁸ inhabitants²⁷³⁰ of the³⁵⁸⁸ earth¹⁰⁹³ and²⁵³² of the³⁵⁸⁸ sea!²²⁸¹ for³⁷⁵⁴the³⁵⁸⁸ devil¹²²⁸ is come down²⁵⁹⁷ unto⁴³¹⁴ you,⁵²⁰⁹ having²¹⁹² great³¹⁷³ wrath,²³⁷² because he knoweth¹⁴⁹² that³⁷⁵⁴ he hath²¹⁹² but a short³⁶⁴¹ time.²⁵⁴⁰

According to the Polyglot Bible, Satan's name is of Chaldee origin:

G4567
Σατανᾶς
Satanas
sat-an-as‘
Of Chaldee origin corresponding to 4566 (with the definite article affixed); the accuser, that is, the devil: - Satan.

More on the War in heaven from Wikipedia is here.

Annotations on a pair of poems

The Three Graces: Aglaea ("Beauty"), Euphrosyne ("Mirth"), and Thalia ("Good Cheer") by Antonio Canova.

Some notes from Dartmouth on L'Allegro and Il Penseroso:

L'Allegro

Wikipedia

Il Penseroso

Wikipedia

For Massacre at Piedmont, see Jeremiah 2.27:

27 Saying⁵⁵⁹ to a stock,⁶⁰⁸⁶ Thou⁸⁵⁹ art my father;¹ and to a stone,⁶⁸ Thou⁸⁵⁹ hast brought me forth:³²⁰⁵ for³⁵⁸⁸ they have turned⁶⁴³⁷ their back⁶²⁰³ unto⁴¹³ me, and not³⁸⁰⁸ their face:⁶⁴⁴⁰ but in the time⁶²⁵⁶ of their trouble⁷⁴⁵¹ they will say,⁵⁵⁹ Arise,⁶⁹⁶⁵ and save³⁴⁶⁷ us.

The whore of Babylon in Revelation is relevant:

Revelation 15

Revelation 16

Revelation 17

Revelation 18