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(2) One climbs Sanleo and descends in Noli, And mounts the summit of Bismantova, With feet alone; but here one needs must fly; With the swift pinions and the plumes I say Of great desire, conducted after him Who gave me hope, and made a light for me. We mounted upward through the rifted rock, And on each side the border pressed upon us, And feet and hands the ground beneath required. When we were come upon the upper rim Of the high bank, out on the open slope, "My Master," said I, "what way shall we take?" And he to me: "No step of thine descend; Still up the mount behind me win thy way, Till some sage escort shall appear to us." The summit was so high it vanquished sight, And the hillside precipitous far more Than line from middle quadrant to the centre. Spent with fatigue was I, when I began: "O my sweet Father! turn thee and behold How I remain alone, unless thou stay!" "O son," he said, "up yonder drag thyself," Pointing me to a terrace somewhat higher, Which on that side encircles all the hill.

(3) Withouten which whoso his life consumes Such vestige leaveth of himself on earth, As smoke in air or in the water foam. And therefore raise thee up, o'ercome the anguish With spirit that o'ercometh every battle, If with its heavy body it sink not. A longer stairway it behoves thee mount; 'Tis not enough from these to have departed; Let it avail thee, if thou understand me." Then I uprose, showing myself provided Better with breath than I did feel myself, And said: "Go on, for I am strong and bold." Upward we took our way along the crag, Which jagged was, and narrow, and difficult, And more precipitous far than that before. Speaking I went, not to appear exhausted; Whereat a voice from the next moat came forth, Not well adapted to articulate words. I know not what it said, though o'er the back I now was of the arch that passes there; But he seemed moved to anger who was speaking. I was bent downward, but my living eyes Could not attain the bottom, for the dark; Wherefore I: "Master, see that thou arrive

(57) Now I am climbed up and mounted so very high, that I dare not look back, for fear a Giddiness should take me, and I have now but a short Length of Ladder to the Mark, to which it is the whole Desire, Longing, and Delight of my Heart, to reach fully. When I go upward, I have no Giddiness at all; but when I look back, and would return, then am I giddy, and afraid to fall.

(2) And even as he who acts and meditates, For aye it seems that he provides beforehand, So upward lifting me towards the summit Of a huge rock, he scanned another crag, Saying: "To that one grapple afterwards, But try first if 'tis such that it will hold thee." This was no way for one clothed with a cloak; For hardly we, he light, and I pushed upward, Were able to ascend from jag to jag. And had it not been, that upon that precinct Shorter was the ascent than on the other, He I know not, but I had been dead beat. But because Malebolge tow'rds the mouth Of the profoundest well is all inclining, The structure of each valley doth import That one bank rises and the other sinks. Still we arrived at length upon the point Wherefrom the last stone breaks itself asunder. The breath was from my lungs so milked away, When I was up, that I could go no farther, Nay, I sat down upon my first arrival. "Now it behoves thee thus to put off sloth," My Master said; "for sitting upon down, Or under quilt, one cometh not to fame,