(3) Then did my Leader lay his grasp upon me, And with his words, and with his hands and signs, Reverent he made in me my knees and brow; Then answered him: "I came not of myself; A Lady from Heaven descended, at whose prayers I aided this one with my company. But since it is thy will more be unfolded Of our condition, how it truly is, Mine cannot be that this should be denied thee. This one has never his last evening seen, But by his folly was so near to it That very little time was there to turn. As I have said, I unto him was sent To rescue him, and other way was none Than this to which I have myself betaken. I've shown him all the people of perdition, And now those spirits I intend to show Who purge themselves beneath thy guardianship. How I have brought him would be long to tell thee. Virtue descendeth from on high that aids me To lead him to behold thee and to hear thee. Now may it please thee to vouchsafe his coming; He seeketh Liberty, which is so dear, As knoweth he who life for her refuses.

(7) And living am I; therefore ask of me, Spirit elect, if thou wouldst have me move O'er yonder yet my mortal feet for thee." "O, this is such a novel thing to hear," She answered, "that great sign it is God loves thee; Therefore with prayer of thine sometimes assist me. And I implore, by what thou most desirest, If e'er thou treadest the soil of Tuscany, Well with my kindred reinstate my fame. Them wilt thou see among that people vain Who hope in Talamone, and will lose there More hope than in discovering the Diana; But there still more the admirals will lose."

(4) That I may know who these are, and what law Makes them appear so ready to pass over, As I discern athwart the dusky light." And he to me: "These things shall all be known To thee, as soon as we our footsteps stay Upon the dismal shore of Acheron." Then with mine eyes ashamed and downward cast, Fearing my words might irksome be to him, From speech refrained I till we reached the river. And lo! towards us coming in a boat An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, Crying: "Woe unto you, ye souls depraved! Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens; I come to lead you to the other shore, To the eternal shades in heat and frost. And thou, that yonder standest, living soul, Withdraw thee from these people, who are dead!" But when he saw that I did not withdraw, He said: "By other ways, by other ports Thou to the shore shalt come, not here, for passage; A lighter vessel needs must carry thee." And unto him the Guide: "Vex thee not, Charon; It is so willed there where is power to do That which is willed; and farther question not."

(3) Already now the air was growing dark, But not so that between his eyes and mine It did not show what it before locked up. Tow'rds me he moved, and I tow'rds him did move; Noble Judge Nino! how it me delighted, When I beheld thee not among the damned! No greeting fair was left unsaid between us; Then asked he: "How long is it since thou camest O'er the far waters to the mountain's foot?" "Oh!" said I to him, "through the dismal places I came this morn; and am in the first life, Albeit the other, going thus, I gain." And on the instant my reply was heard, He and Sordello both shrank back from me, Like people who are suddenly bewildered. One to Virgilius, and the other turned To one who sat there, crying, "Up, Currado! Come and behold what God in grace has willed!" Then, turned to me: "By that especial grace Thou owest unto Him, who so conceals His own first wherefore, that it has no ford, When thou shalt be beyond the waters wide, Tell my Giovanna that she pray for me, Where answer to the innocent is made.

(6) "My son," the courteous Master said to me, "All those who perish in the wrath of God Here meet together out of every land; And ready are they to pass o'er the river, Because celestial Justice spurs them on, So that their fear is turned into desire. This way there never passes a good soul; And hence if Charon doth complain of thee, Well mayst thou know now what his speech imports." This being finished, all the dusk champaign Trembled so violently, that of that terror The recollection bathes me still with sweat. The land of tears gave forth a blast of wind, And fulminated a vermilion light, Which overmastered in me every sense, And as a man whom sleep hath seized I fell.

(6) To whom, then, if thou wishest to ascend, A soul shall be for that than I more worthy; With her at my departure I will leave thee; Because that Emperor, who reigns above, In that I was rebellious to his law, Wills that through me none come into his city. He governs everywhere, and there he reigns; There is his city and his lofty throne; O happy he whom thereto he elects!" And I to him: "Poet, I thee entreat, By that same God whom thou didst never know, So that I may escape this woe and worse, Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said, That I may see the portal of Saint Peter, And those thou makest so disconsolate." Then he moved on, and I behind him followed.

(3) That thou mayst free thee from this apprehension, I'll tell thee why I came, and what I heard At the first moment when I grieved for thee. Among those was I who are in suspense, And a fair, saintly Lady called to me In such wise, I besought her to command me. Her eyes where shining brighter than the Star; And she began to say, gentle and low, With voice angelical, in her own language: 'O spirit courteous of Mantua, Of whom the fame still in the world endures, And shall endure, long-lasting as the world; A friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune, Upon the desert slope is so impeded Upon his way, that he has turned through terror, And may, I fear, already be so lost, That I too late have risen to his succour, From that which I have heard of him in Heaven. Bestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate, And with what needful is for his release, Assist him so, that I may be consoled. Beatrice am I, who do bid thee go; I come from there, where I would fain return; Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak.

(7) "Straighten thy legs, and upward raise thee, brother," He answered: "Err not, fellow-servant am I With thee and with the others to one power. If e'er that holy, evangelic sound, Which sayeth 'neque nubent,' thou hast heard, Well canst thou see why in this wise I speak. Now go; no longer will I have thee linger, Because thy stay doth incommode my weeping, With which I ripen that which thou hast said. On earth I have a grandchild named Alagia, Good in herself, unless indeed our house Malevolent may make her by example, And she alone remains to me on earth."

(2) My Guide descended down into the boat, And then he made me enter after him, And only when I entered seemed it laden. Soon as the Guide and I were in the boat, The antique prow goes on its way, dividing More of the water than 'tis wont with others. While we were running through the dead canal, Uprose in front of me one full of mire, And said, "Who 'rt thou that comest ere the hour?" And I to him: "Although I come, I stay not; But who art thou that hast become so squalid?" "Thou seest that I am one who weeps," he answered. And I to him: "With weeping and with wailing, Thou spirit maledict, do thou remain; For thee I know, though thou art all defiled." Then stretched he both his hands unto the boat; Whereat my wary Master thrust him back, Saying, "Away there with the other dogs!" Thereafter with his arms he clasped my neck; He kissed my face, and said: "Disdainful soul, Blessed be she who bore thee in her bosom. That was an arrogant person in the world; Goodness is none, that decks his memory; So likewise here his shade is furious.