Fourth Dialogueb

The other follows, who says that he became blind through having been suddenly brought out of the darkness into a great light: accustomed to behold ordinary beauties, a celestial beauty was suddenly presented before his eyes—a sun-god—in this manner his sight became dull and the twin lights which shine at the prow of the soul were put out: for the eyes are like two beacons, which guide the ship, and this would happen to one brought up in Cimmerian obscurity if he fixed his eyes suddenly upon the sun. In the sistine he begs for free passage to Hades, because darkness alone is suitable to a dark condition. He says: 65. The third blind man . If sudden on the sight, the star of day Should shed his beams on one in darkness reared, Nurtured beneath the black Cimmerian sky, Far from the radiance of the glorious sun, The double light, the beacon of the soul He quenches: then as a foe he hides. Thus were my eyes made dull, inept, Used only, wonted beauties to behold. Conduct me to the land where darkness reigns! Wherefore being dead, speak I amidst the folk? A chip of Hell, why do I mix and move Amongst the living, wherefore do I drink The hated air, since all my pain Is due to having seen the highest good? The fourth blind man comes forward, not blind for the same reason as the former one. For as that one was blinded through the sudden aspect of the light, this one is so, from having too frequently beheld it, or through having fixed his eyes too much upon it, so that he has lost the sense of all other light, but he does not consider himself to be blind through looking at that one which has blinded him: and the same may be said of the sense of sight as of the sense of hearing, that those whose ears are accustomed to great noises, do not hear the lesser, as is well known of those who live near the cataracts of the great river Nile which fall precipitously down to the plain. Min. Thus, all those who have accustomed the body and the soul to things more difficult and great, are not apt to feel annoyed by smaller difficulties. So that fellow ought not to be discontented about his blindness. Sev. Certainly not. But one says, voluntarily blind, of one who desires that every other thing be hidden because it annoys him to be diverted from looking at that which alone he wishes to behold. Meanwhile he prays the passers-by to prevent his coming to mischief in any encounter, while he goes so absorbed and captivated by one principal object. Min. Repeat his words! Sev. He says: 66 The fourth blind man . Headlong from on high, to the abyss, The cataract of the Nile falls down and dulls the senses Of the joyless folk to every other sound, So stood I too, with spirit all intent Upon the living light, that lights the world; Dead henceforth to all the lesser splendours, While that light shines, let every other thing Be to the voluntary blind concealed. I pray you save me stumbling 'mongst the stones, Make me aware of the wild beast, Show me whether up or down I go; So that the miserable bones fall not, Into a low and cavernous place, While I, without a guide, am stepping on. To the blind man that follows, it happens that having wept so much, his eyes are become dim, so that he is not able to extend the visual ray, so as to distinguish visible objects, nor can he see the light, which in spite of himself, through so many sorrows, he at one time was able to see.