(2) "I remember your tears, your mourning, and your grief. They are far from us. You who are outside the father's inheritance, weep when you should, mourn, and preach what is good. As is proper, the son is ascending.

(2) I was greatly troubled in my groaning. I will bathe my bed and my cover each night with my tears. I have become old in the midst of all my enemies. Depart from me, all you who work at lawlessness, for look, the lord has heard the cry of my weeping and the lord has heard my prayer.

(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.

(2) Then reigned within my lofty fantasy One crucified, disdainful and ferocious In countenance, and even thus was dying. Around him were the great Ahasuerus, Esther his wife, and the just Mordecai, Who was in word and action so entire. And even as this image burst asunder Of its own self, in fashion of a bubble In which the water it was made of fails, There rose up in my vision a young maiden Bitterly weeping, and she said: "O queen, Why hast thou wished in anger to be naught? Thou'st slain thyself, Lavinia not to lose; Now hast thou lost me; I am she who mourns, Mother, at thine ere at another's ruin." As sleep is broken, when upon a sudden New light strikes in upon the eyelids closed, And broken quivers ere it dieth wholly, So this imagining of mine fell down As soon as the effulgence smote my face, Greater by far than what is in our wont. I turned me round to see where I might be, When said a voice, "Here is the passage up;" Which from all other purposes removed me,

[...] [and he said to me: "Write down] [the things] that I shall [tell] you and of which I shall remind you for those who will be worthy after you. And you shall leave this book upon a mountain and you shall adjure the guardian: `Come, Dreadful One!'" And when he said these things, he separated from me.

(83) And my grandfather Mahalalel waked me as I lay near him, and said unto me: 'Why dost thou cry so, my son, and why dost thou make such lamentation?'

(1) Already on my Lady's face mine eyes Again were fastened, and with these my mind, And from all other purpose was withdrawn; And she smiled not; but "If I were to smile," She unto me began, "thou wouldst become Like Semele, when she was turned to ashes. Because my beauty, that along the stairs Of the eternal palace more enkindles, As thou hast seen, the farther we ascend, If it were tempered not, is so resplendent That all thy mortal power in its effulgence Would seem a leaflet that the thunder crushes. We are uplifted to the seventh splendour, That underneath the burning Lion's breast Now radiates downward mingled with his power. Fix in direction of thine eyes the mind, And make of them a mirror for the figure That in this mirror shall appear to thee." He who could know what was the pasturage My sight had in that blessed countenance, When I transferred me to another care, Would recognize how grateful was to me Obedience unto my celestial escort, By counterpoising one side with the other.

(2) What trenches lying traverse or what chains Didst thou discover, that of passing onward Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope? And what allurements or what vantages Upon the forehead of the others showed, That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them?" After the heaving of a bitter sigh, Hardly had I the voice to make response, And with fatigue my lips did fashion it. Weeping I said: "The things that present were With their false pleasure turned aside my steps, Soon as your countenance concealed itself." And she: "Shouldst thou be silent, or deny What thou confessest, not less manifest Would be thy fault, by such a Judge 'tis known. But when from one's own cheeks comes bursting forth The accusal of the sin, in our tribunal Against the edge the wheel doth turn itself. But still, that thou mayst feel a greater shame For thy transgression, and another time Hearing the Sirens thou mayst be more strong, Cast down the seed of weeping and attend; So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way My buried flesh should have directed thee.

(2) On this account my wish would be content To hear what fortune is approaching me, Because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly." Thus did I say unto that selfsame light That unto me had spoken before; and even As Beatrice willed was my own will confessed. Not in vague phrase, in which the foolish folk Ensnared themselves of old, ere yet was slain The Lamb of God who taketh sins away, But with clear words and unambiguous Language responded that paternal love, Hid and revealed by its own proper smile: "Contingency, that outside of the volume Of your materiality extends not, Is all depicted in the eternal aspect. Necessity however thence it takes not, Except as from the eye, in which 'tis mirrored, A ship that with the current down descends. From thence, e'en as there cometh to the ear Sweet harmony from an organ, comes in sight To me the time that is preparing for thee. As forth from Athens went Hippolytus, By reason of his step-dame false and cruel, So thou from Florence must perforce depart.

(6) Now if thou trainest thy mind's eye along From light to light pursuant of my praise, With thirst already of the eighth thou waitest. By seeing every good therein exults The sainted soul, which the fallacious world Makes manifest to him who listeneth well; The body whence 'twas hunted forth is lying Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom And banishment it came unto this peace. See farther onward flame the burning breath Of Isidore, of Beda, and of Richard Who was in contemplation more than man. This, whence to me returneth thy regard, The light is of a spirit unto whom In his grave meditations death seemed slow.

(4) There the high glory of the Roman Prince Was chronicled, whose great beneficence Moved Gregory to his great victory; 'Tis of the Emperor Trajan I am speaking; And a poor widow at his bridle stood, In attitude of weeping and of grief. Around about him seemed it thronged and full Of cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold Above them visibly in the wind were moving. The wretched woman in the midst of these Seemed to be saying: "Give me vengeance, Lord, For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking." And he to answer her: "Now wait until I shall return." And she: "My Lord," like one In whom grief is impatient, "shouldst thou not Return?" And he: "Who shall be where I am Will give it thee." And she: "Good deed of others What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own?" Whence he: "Now comfort thee, for it behoves me That I discharge my duty ere I move; Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me." He who on no new thing has ever looked Was the creator of this visible language, Novel to us, for here it is not found.

(7) We paused immovable and in suspense, Even as the shepherds who first heard that song, Until the trembling ceased, and it was finished. Then we resumed again our holy path, Watching the shades that lay upon the ground, Already turned to their accustomed plaint. No ignorance ever with so great a strife Had rendered me importunate to know, If erreth not in this my memory, As meditating then I seemed to have; Nor out of haste to question did I dare, Nor of myself I there could aught perceive; So I went onward timorous and thoughtful.

(1) One and the selfsame tongue first wounded me, So that it tinged the one cheek and the other, And then held out to me the medicine; Thus do I hear that once Achilles' spear, His and his father's, used to be the cause First of a sad and then a gracious boon. We turned our backs upon the wretched valley, Upon the bank that girds it round about, Going across it without any speech. There it was less than night, and less than day, So that my sight went little in advance; But I could hear the blare of a loud horn, So loud it would have made each thunder faint, Which, counter to it following its way, Mine eyes directed wholly to one place. After the dolorous discomfiture When Charlemagne the holy emprise lost, So terribly Orlando sounded not. Short while my head turned thitherward I held When many lofty towers I seemed to see, Whereat I: "Master, say, what town is this?" And he to me: "Because thou peerest forth Athwart the darkness at too great a distance, It happens that thou errest in thy fancy.

(1) "O thou who art beyond the sacred river," Turning to me the point of her discourse, That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen, She recommenced, continuing without pause, "Say, say if this be true; to such a charge, Thy own confession needs must be conjoined." My faculties were in so great confusion, That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct Than by its organs it was set at large. Awhile she waited; then she said: "What thinkest? Answer me; for the mournful memories In thee not yet are by the waters injured." Confusion and dismay together mingled Forced such a Yes! from out my mouth, that sight Was needful to the understanding of it. Even as a cross-bow breaks, when 'tis discharged Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow, And with less force the arrow hits the mark, So I gave way beneath that heavy burden, Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs, And the voice flagged upon its passage forth. Whence she to me: "In those desires of mine Which led thee to the loving of that good, Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to,

(65) And Enoch my grandfather came and stood by me, and said unto me: 'Why hast thou cried unto me with a bitter cry and weeping?

(1) I had already from those shades departed, And followed in the footsteps of my Guide, When from behind, pointing his finger at me, One shouted: "See, it seems as if shone not The sunshine on the left of him below, And like one living seems he to conduct him." Mine eyes I turned at utterance of these words, And saw them watching with astonishment But me, but me, and the light which was broken! "Why doth thy mind so occupy itself," The Master said, "that thou thy pace dost slacken? What matters it to thee what here is whispered? Come after me, and let the people talk; Stand like a steadfast tower, that never wags Its top for all the blowing of the winds; For evermore the man in whom is springing Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark, Because the force of one the other weakens." What could I say in answer but "I come"? I said it somewhat with that colour tinged Which makes a man of pardon sometimes worthy. Meanwhile along the mountain-side across Came people in advance of us a little, Singing the Miserere verse by verse.

(90) Then I wept with a great weeping and my tears stayed not till I could no longer endure it: when I saw, they flowed on account of what I had seen; for everything shall come and be fulfilled, and all the deeds of men in their order were shown to me.

(5) This Whole Heart of mine remaineth weeping over itself in presence of Osiris

(1) As came to Clymene, to be made certain Of that which he had heard against himself, He who makes fathers chary still to children, Even such was I, and such was I perceived By Beatrice and by the holy light That first on my account had changed its place. Therefore my Lady said to me: "Send forth The flame of thy desire, so that it issue Imprinted well with the internal stamp; Not that our knowledge may be greater made By speech of thine, but to accustom thee To tell thy thirst, that we may give thee drink." "O my beloved tree, (that so dost lift thee, That even as minds terrestrial perceive No triangle containeth two obtuse, So thou beholdest the contingent things Ere in themselves they are, fixing thine eyes Upon the point in which all times are present,) While I was with Virgilius conjoined Upon the mountain that the souls doth heal, And when descending into the dead world, Were spoken to me of my future life Some grievous words; although I feel myself In sooth foursquare against the blows of chance.

(5) Yet would I not thy neighbours thou shouldst envy, Because thy life into the future reaches Beyond the punishment of their perfidies." When by its silence showed that sainted soul That it had finished putting in the woof Into that web which I had given it warped, Began I, even as he who yearneth after, Being in doubt, some counsel from a person Who seeth, and uprightly wills, and loves: "Well see I, father mine, how spurreth on The time towards me such a blow to deal me As heaviest is to him who most gives way. Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me, That, if the dearest place be taken from me, I may not lose the others by my songs. Down through the world of infinite bitterness, And o'er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit The eyes of my own Lady lifted me, And afterward through heaven from light to light, I have learned that which, if I tell again, Will be a savour of strong herbs to many. And if I am a timid friend to truth, I fear lest I may lose my life with those Who will hereafter call this time the olden."