Purgatorio: Canto XXVII
As when he vibrates
forth his earliest rays,
In
regions where his Maker shed his blood,
(The Ebro falling under lofty Libra,
And waters in the
Ganges burnt with noon,)
So
stood the Sun; hence was the day departing,
When the glad Angel of God appeared to us.
Outside the flame
he stood upon the verge,
And
chanted forth, "Beati mundo corde,"
In voice by far more living than our own.
Then: "No one
farther goes, souls sanctified,
If
first the fire bite not; within it enter,
And be not deaf unto the song beyond."
When we were close
beside him thus he said;
Wherefore
e'en such became I, when I heard him,
As he is who is put into the grave.
Upon my clasped
hands I straightened me,
Scanning
the fire, and vividly recalling
The human bodies I had once seen burned.
Towards me turned
themselves my good Conductors,
And
unto me Virgilius said: "My son,
Here may indeed be torment, but not death.
Remember thee,
remember! and if I
On
Geryon have safely guided thee,
What shall I do now I am nearer God?
Believe for
certain, shouldst thou stand a full
Millennium
in the bosom of this flame,
It could not make thee bald a single hair.
And if perchance
thou think that I deceive thee,
Draw
near to it, and put it to the proof
With thine own hands upon thy garment's hem.
Now lay aside, now
lay aside all fear,
Turn
hitherward, and onward come securely;"
And I still motionless, and 'gainst my conscience!
Seeing me stand
still motionless and stubborn,
Somewhat
disturbed he said: "Now look thou, Son,
'Twixt Beatrice and thee there is this wall."
As at the name of
Thisbe oped his lids
The
dying Pyramus, and gazed upon her,
What time the mulberry became vermilion,
Even thus, my
obduracy being softened,
I
turned to my wise Guide, hearing the name
That in my memory evermore is welling.
Whereat he wagged
his head, and said: "How now?
Shall
we stay on this side?" then smiled as one
Does at a child who's vanquished by an apple.
Then into the fire
in front of me he entered,
Beseeching
Statius to come after me,
Who a long way before divided us.
When I was in it,
into molten glass
I
would have cast me to refresh myself,
So without measure was the burning there!
And my sweet
Father, to encourage me,
Discoursing
still of Beatrice went on,
Saying: "Her eyes I seem to see already!"
A voice, that on
the other side was singing,
Directed
us, and we, attent alone
On that, came forth where the ascent began.
"Venite, benedicti
Patris mei,"
Sounded
within a splendour, which was there
Such it o'ercame me, and I could not look.
"The sun departs,"
it added, "and night cometh;
Tarry
ye not, but onward urge your steps,
So long as yet the west becomes not dark."
Straight forward
through the rock the path ascended
In
such a way that I cut off the rays
Before me of the sun, that now was low.
And of few stairs
we yet had made assay,
Ere
by the vanished shadow the sun's setting
Behind us we perceived, I and my Sages.
And ere in all its
parts immeasurable
The
horizon of one aspect had become,
And Night her boundless dispensation held,
Each of us of a
stair had made his bed;
Because
the nature of the mount took from us
The power of climbing, more than the delight.
Even as in
ruminating passive grow
The
goats, who have been swift and venturesome
Upon the mountain-tops ere they were fed,
Hushed in the
shadow, while the sun is hot,
Watched
by the herdsman, who upon his staff
Is leaning, and in leaning tendeth them;
And as the
shepherd, lodging out of doors,
Passes
the night beside his quiet flock,
Watching that no wild beast may scatter it,
Such at that hour
were we, all three of us,
I
like the goat, and like the herdsmen they,
Begirt on this side and on that by rocks.
Little could there
be seen of things without;
But
through that little I beheld the stars
More luminous and larger than their wont.
Thus ruminating,
and beholding these,
Sleep
seized upon me,--sleep, that oftentimes
Before a deed is done has tidings of it.
It was the hour, I
think, when from the East
First
on the mountain Citherea beamed,
Who with the fire of love seems always burning;
Youthful and
beautiful in dreams methought
I
saw a lady walking in a meadow,
Gathering flowers; and singing she was saying:
"Know whosoever may
my name demand
That
I am Leah, and go moving round
My beauteous hands to make myself a garland.
To please me at the
mirror, here I deck me,
But
never does my sister Rachel leave
Her looking-glass, and sitteth all day long.
To see her
beauteous eyes as eager is she,
As
I am to adorn me with my hands;
Her, seeing, and me, doing satisfies."
And now before the
antelucan splendours
That
unto pilgrims the more grateful rise,
As, home-returning, less remote they lodge,
The darkness fled
away on every side,
And
slumber with it; whereupon I rose,
Seeing already the great Masters risen.
"That apple sweet,
which through so many branches
The
care of mortals goeth in pursuit of,
To-day shall put in peace thy hungerings."
Speaking to me,
Virgilius of such words
As
these made use; and never were there guerdons
That could in pleasantness compare with these.
Such longing upon
longing came upon me
To
be above, that at each step thereafter
For flight I felt in me the pinions growing.
When underneath us
was the stairway all
Run
o'er, and we were on the highest step,
Virgilius fastened upon me his eyes,
And said: "The
temporal fire and the eternal,
Son,
thou hast seen, and to a place art come
Where of myself no farther I discern.
By intellect and
art I here have brought thee;
Take
thine own pleasure for thy guide henceforth;
Beyond the steep ways and the narrow art thou.
Behold the sun,
that shines upon thy forehead;
Behold
the grass, the flowerets, and the shrubs
Which of itself alone this land produces.
Until rejoicing
come the beauteous eyes
Which
weeping caused me to come unto thee,
Thou canst sit down, and thou canst walk among them.
Expect no more or
word or sign from me;
Free
and upright and sound is thy free-will,
And error were it not to do its bidding;
Thee o'er thyself I
therefore crown and mitre!"