| |
| NOW was the day departing, and the air, | |
| Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils released | |
| All animals on earth; and I alone | |
| Prepared myself the conflict to sustain, | |
| Both of sad pity, and that perilous road, | 5 |
| Which my unerring memory shall retrace. | |
| O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe | |
| Your aid. O mind! that all I saw hast kept | |
| Safe in a written record, here thy worth | |
| And eminent endowments come to proof. | 10 |
| I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide, | |
| Consider well, if virtue be in me | |
| Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise | |
| Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire, 1 | |
| Yet clothed in corruptible flesh, among | 15 |
| The immortal tribes had entrance, and was there | |
| Sensibly present. Yet if Heaven’s great Lord, | |
| Almighty foe to ill, such favor show’d | |
| In contemplation of the high effect, | |
| Both what and who from him should issue forth, | 20 |
| It seems in reason’s judgment well deserved; | |
| Sith he of Rome and of Rome’s empire wide, | |
| In Heaven’s imperial height was chosen sire: | |
| Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’d | |
| And stablish’d for the holy place, where sits | 25 |
| Who to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds. | |
| He from this journey, in thy song renown’d, | |
| Learn’d things, that to his victory gave rise | |
| And to the papal robe. In after-times | |
| The Chosen Vessel 2 also travel’d there, | 30 |
| To bring us back assurance in that faith | |
| Which is the entrance to salvation’s way. | |
| But I, why should I there presume? or who | |
| Permits it? not Æneas I, nor Paul. | |
| Myself I deem not worthy, and none else | 35 |
| Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then | |
| I venture, fear it will in folly end. | |
| Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st, | |
| Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolves | |
| What he hath late resolved, and with new thoughts | 40 |
| Changes his purpose, from his first intent | |
| Removed; e’en such was I on that dun coast, | |
| Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first | |
| So eagerly embraced. “If right thy words | |
| I scan,” replied that shade magnanimous, | 45 |
| “Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oft | |
| So overcasts a man, that he recoils | |
| From noblest resolution, like a beast | |
| At some false semblance in the twilight gloom. | |
| That from this terror thou mayst free thyself, | 50 |
| I will instruct thee why I came, and what | |
| I heard in that same instant, when for thee | |
| Grief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe, | |
| Who rest suspended, 3 when a dame, so blest | |
| And lovely I besought her to command, | 55 |
| Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the star | |
| Of day; and she, with gentle voice and soft, | |
| Angelically tuned, her speech address’d: | |
| ‘O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame | |
| Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts! | 60 |
| A friend, not of my fortune but myself, | |
| On the wide desert in his road has met | |
| Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d. | |
| Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d, | |
| And I be risen too late for his relief, | 65 |
| From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now, | |
| And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue, | |
| And by all means for his deliverance meet, | |
| Assist him. So to me will comfort spring. | |
| I, who now bid thee on this errand forth, | 70 |
| Am Beatrice; 4 from a place I come | |
| Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence, | |
| Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sight | |
| I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.’ | |
| “She then was silent, and I thus began: | 75 |
| ‘O Lady! by whose influence alone | |
| Mankind excels whatever is contain’d | |
| Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb, | |
| So thy command delights me, that to obey, | |
| If it were done already, would seem late. | 80 |
| No need hast thou further to speak thy will: | |
| Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth | |
| To leave that ample space, where to return | |
| Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath.’ | |
| “She then: ‘Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire, | 85 |
| I will instruct thee briefly why no dread | |
| Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone | |
| Are to be fear’d whence evil may proceed; | |
| None else, for none are terrible beside. | |
| I am so framed by God, thanks to His grace! | 90 |
| That any sufferance of your misery | |
| Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire | |
| Assails me. In high Heaven a blessed Dame 5 | |
| Resides, who mourns with such effectual grief | |
| That hindrance, which I send thee to remove, | 95 |
| That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines.’ | |
| To Lucia, 6 calling, her she thus bespake: | |
| ‘Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid, | |
| And I commend him to thee.’ At her word | |
| Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe, | 100 |
| And coming to the place, where I abode | |
| Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days, | |
| She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God! | |
| Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent | |
| To him, who so much loved thee, as to leave | 105 |
| For thy sake all the multitude admires? | |
| Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail, | |
| Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood, | |
| Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?” | |
| Ne’er among men did any with such speed | 110 |
| Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy, | |
| As, when these words were spoken, I came here, | |
| Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force | |
| Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all | |
| Who well have mark’d it, into honor brings.’ | 115 |
| “When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes | |
| Tearful she turn’d aside; whereat I felt | |
| Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d, | |
| Thus am I come: I saved thee from the beast, | |
| Who thy near way across the goodly mount | 120 |
| Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee than? | |
| Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast | |
| Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there, | |
| And noble daring; since three maids, 7 so blest, | |
| Thy safety plan, e’en in the court of Heaven; | 125 |
| And so much certain good my words forebode?” | |
| As florets, by the frosty air of night | |
| Bent down and closed, when day has blanch’d their leaves, | |
| Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems; | |
| So was my fainting vigor new restored, | 130 |
| And to my heart such kindly courage ran, | |
| That I as one undaunted soon replied: | |
| “O full of pity she, who undertook | |
| My succour! and thou kind, who didst perform | |
| So soon her true behest! With such desire | 135 |
| Thou hast disposed me to renew my voyage, | |
| That my first purpose fully is resumed. | |
| Lead on: one only will is in us both. | |
| Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord,” | |
| So spake I; and when he had onward moved, | 140 |
| I enter’d on the deep and woody way. | |
