The Divine Comedy | Page 5

began:
"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.
No need hast thou
farther 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,
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 fram'd by God, thanks to his grace!
That any
suff'rance of your misery
Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire

Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame
Besides, who mourns
with such effectual grief
That hindrance, which I send thee to remove,

That God's stern judgment to her will inclines.
To Lucia 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,
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 lov'd
thee, as to leave
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
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 honour brings."
"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 sav'd thee from the beast,
Who thy near way
across the goodly mount
Prevented. What is this comes o'er thee then?

Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast
Harbour vile
fear? why hast not courage there
And noble daring? Since three
maids so blest
Thy safety plan, e'en in the court of heaven;
And so
much certain good my words forebode."
As florets, by the frosty air of night
Bent down and clos'd, when day
has blanch'd their leaves,
Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;
So
was my fainting vigour new restor'd,
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
Thou hast dispos'd me to
renew my voyage,
That my first purpose fully is resum'd.
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 mov'd,
I enter'd on the deep and
woody way.
CANTO III
"THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass
into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice
the founder of my fabric mov'd:
To rear me was the task of power
divine,
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things
create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All
hope abandon ye who enter here."
Such characters in colour dim I mark'd
Over a portal's lofty arch
inscrib'd:
Whereat I thus: "Master, these words import
Hard
meaning." He as one prepar'd replied:
"Here thou must all distrust
behind thee leave;
Here be vile fear extinguish'd. We are come


Where I have told thee we shall see the souls
To misery doom'd, who
intellectual good
Have lost." And when his hand he had stretch'd
forth
To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer'd,
Into that
secret place he led me on.
Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans
Resounded through the
air pierc'd by no star,
That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues,

Horrible languages, outcries of woe,
Accents of anger, voices deep
and hoarse,
With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds,

Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls
Round through that air with
solid darkness stain'd,
Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.
I then, with error yet encompass'd, cried:
"O master! What is this I
hear? What race
Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?"
He thus to me: "This miserable fate
Suffer the wretched souls of
those, who liv'd
Without or praise or blame, with that ill band
Of
angels mix'd, who nor rebellious prov'd
Nor yet were true to God, but
for themselves
Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth,

Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth
Of Hell receives them, lest
th' accursed tribe
Should glory thence with exultation vain."
I then: "Master! what doth aggrieve them thus,
That they lament so
loud?" He straight replied:
"That will I tell thee briefly. These of
death
No hope may entertain: and their blind life
So meanly passes,
that all other lots
They envy. Fame of them the world hath none,

Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both.
Speak not of them,
but