(6) His sluggish attitude and his curt words A little unto laughter moved my lips; Then I began: "Belacqua, I grieve not For thee henceforth; but tell me, wherefore seated In this place art thou? Waitest thou an escort? Or has thy usual habit seized upon thee?" And he: "O brother, what's the use of climbing? Since to my torment would not let me go The Angel of God, who sitteth at the gate. First heaven must needs so long revolve me round Outside thereof, as in my life it did, Since the good sighs I to the end postponed, Unless, e'er that, some prayer may bring me aid Which rises from a heart that lives in grace; What profit others that in heaven are heard not?" Meanwhile the Poet was before me mounting, And saying: "Come now; see the sun has touched Meridian, and from the shore the night Covers already with her foot Morocco."

(9) But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him: and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.

(6) Three maidens at the right wheel in a circle Came onward dancing; one so very red That in the fire she hardly had been noted. The second was as if her flesh and bones Had all been fashioned out of emerald; The third appeared as snow but newly fallen. And now they seemed conducted by the white, Now by the red, and from the song of her The others took their step, or slow or swift. Upon the left hand four made holiday Vested in purple, following the measure Of one of them with three eyes in her head. In rear of all the group here treated of Two old men I beheld, unlike in habit, But like in gait, each dignified and grave. One showed himself as one of the disciples Of that supreme Hippocrates, whom nature Made for the animals she holds most dear; Contrary care the other manifested, With sword so shining and so sharp, it caused Terror to me on this side of the river.

(3) Not otherwise in summer do the dogs, Now with the foot, now with the muzzle, when By fleas, or flies, or gadflies, they are bitten. When I had turned mine eyes upon the faces Of some, on whom the dolorous fire is falling, Not one of them I knew; but I perceived That from the neck of each there hung a pouch, Which certain colour had, and certain blazon; And thereupon it seems their eyes are feeding. And as I gazing round me come among them, Upon a yellow pouch I azure saw That had the face and posture of a lion. Proceeding then the current of my sight, Another of them saw I, red as blood, Display a goose more white than butter is. And one, who with an azure sow and gravid Emblazoned had his little pouch of white, Said unto me: "What dost thou in this moat? Now get thee gone; and since thou'rt still alive, Know that a neighbour of mine, Vitaliano, Will have his seat here on my left-hand side. A Paduan am I with these Florentines; Full many a time they thunder in mine ears, Exclaiming, 'Come the sovereign cavalier,

(2) Her mouth was not yet closed again, before Appeared a Lady saintly and alert Close at my side to put her to confusion. "Virgilius, O Virgilius! who is this?" Sternly she said; and he was drawing near With eyes still fixed upon that modest one. She seized the other and in front laid open, Rending her garments, and her belly showed me; This waked me with the stench that issued from it. I turned mine eyes, and good Virgilius said: "At least thrice have I called thee; rise and come; Find we the opening by which thou mayst enter." I rose; and full already of high day Were all the circles of the Sacred Mountain, And with the new sun at our back we went. Following behind him, I my forehead bore Like unto one who has it laden with thought, Who makes himself the half arch of a bridge, When I heard say, "Come, here the passage is," Spoken in a manner gentle and benign, Such as we hear not in this mortal region. With open wings, which of a swan appeared, Upward he turned us who thus spake to us, Between the two walls of the solid granite.

(5) It is also said, that the Pythagoreans endeavoured to perform the offices of friendship to those of their sect, though they were unknown to, and had never been seen by each other, when they had received a certain indication of the participation of the same doctrines; so that from such friendly offices the assertion may be credited, that worthy men, even though they should dwell in the most remote parts of the earth, are mutually friends, and this before they become known to and salute each other. It is said therefore, that a certain Pythagorean, travelling through a long and solitary road on foot, came to an inn; and there, from labor and other all-various causes, fell into a long and severe disease, so as to be at length in want of the necessaries of life.

The inn-keeper, however, whether from commiseration of the man, or from benevolence, supplied him with every thing that was requisite, neither sparing for this purpose any assistance or expense. But the Pythagorean falling a victim to the disease, wrote a certain symbol, before he died, in a table, and desired the inn-keeper, if he should happen to die, to suspend the table near the road, and observe whether any passenger read the symbol. For that person, said he, will repay you what you have spent on me, and will also thank you for your kindness. The inn-keeper, therefore, after the death of the Pythagorean, having buried, and paid the requisite attention to his body, had neither any hopes of being repaid, nor of receiving any recompense from some one who might read the table.

At the same time, however, being surprised at the request of the Pythagorean, he was induced to expose the writing in the public road. A long time after, therefore, a certain Pythagorean passing that way, having understood the symbol, and learnt who it was that placed the table there, and having also investigated every particular, paid the inn-keeper a much greater sum of money than he had disbursed.

(1) In that part of the youthful year wherein The Sun his locks beneath Aquarius tempers, And now the nights draw near to half the day, What time the hoar-frost copies on the ground The outward semblance of her sister white, But little lasts the temper of her pen, The husbandman, whose forage faileth him, Rises, and looks, and seeth the champaign All gleaming white, whereat he beats his flank, Returns in doors, and up and down laments, Like a poor wretch, who knows not what to do; Then he returns and hope revives again, Seeing the world has changed its countenance In little time, and takes his shepherd's crook, And forth the little lambs to pasture drives. Thus did the Master fill me with alarm, When I beheld his forehead so disturbed, And to the ailment came as soon the plaster. For as we came unto the ruined bridge, The Leader turned to me with that sweet look Which at the mountain's foot I first beheld. His arms he opened, after some advisement Within himself elected, looking first Well at the ruin, and laid hold of me.

(2) So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward, Turn itself back to re-behold the pass Which never yet a living person left. After my weary body I had rested, The way resumed I on the desert slope, So that the firm foot ever was the lower. And lo! almost where the ascent began, A panther light and swift exceedingly, Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er! And never moved she from before my face, Nay, rather did impede so much my way, That many times I to return had turned. The time was the beginning of the morning, And up the sun was mounting with those stars That with him were, what time the Love Divine At first in motion set those beauteous things; So were to me occasion of good hope, The variegated skin of that wild beast, The hour of time, and the delicious season; But not so much, that did not give me fear A lion's aspect which appeared to me. He seemed as if against me he were coming With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger, So that it seemed the air was afraid of him;

(5) He led us on to where the rock was cleft; There smote upon my forehead with his wings, Then a safe passage promised unto me. As on the right hand, to ascend the mount Where seated is the church that lordeth it O'er the well-guided, above Rubaconte, The bold abruptness of the ascent is broken By stairways that were made there in the age When still were safe the ledger and the stave, E'en thus attempered is the bank which falls Sheer downward from the second circle there; But on this, side and that the high rock graze. As we were turning thitherward our persons, "Beati pauperes spiritu," voices Sang in such wise that speech could tell it not. Ah me! how different are these entrances From the Infernal! for with anthems here One enters, and below with wild laments. We now were hunting up the sacred stairs, And it appeared to me by far more easy Than on the plain it had appeared before. Whence I: "My Master, say, what heavy thing Has been uplifted from me, so that hardly Aught of fatigue is felt by me in walking?"

(5) When they together had discoursed somewhat, They turned to me with signs of salutation, And on beholding this, my Master smiled; And more of honour still, much more, they did me, In that they made me one of their own band; So that the sixth was I, 'mid so much wit. Thus we went on as far as to the light, Things saying 'tis becoming to keep silent, As was the saying of them where I was. We came unto a noble castle's foot, Seven times encompassed with lofty walls, Defended round by a fair rivulet; This we passed over even as firm ground; Through portals seven I entered with these Sages; We came into a meadow of fresh verdure. People were there with solemn eyes and slow, Of great authority in their countenance; They spake but seldom, and with gentle voices. Thus we withdrew ourselves upon one side Into an opening luminous and lofty, So that they all of them were visible. There opposite, upon the green enamel, Were pointed out to me the mighty spirits, Whom to have seen I feel myself exalted.

(1) We were upon the summit of the stairs, Where for the second time is cut away The mountain, which ascending shriveth all. There in like manner doth a cornice bind The hill all round about, as does the first, Save that its arc more suddenly is curved. Shade is there none, nor sculpture that appears; So seems the bank, and so the road seems smooth, With but the livid colour of the stone. "If to inquire we wait for people here," The Poet said, "I fear that peradventure Too much delay will our election have." Then steadfast on the sun his eyes he fixed, Made his right side the centre of his motion, And turned the left part of himself about. "O thou sweet light! with trust in whom I enter Upon this novel journey, do thou lead us," Said he, "as one within here should be led. Thou warmest the world, thou shinest over it; If other reason prompt not otherwise, Thy rays should evermore our leaders be!" As much as here is counted for a mile, So much already there had we advanced In little time, by dint of ready will;

(2) Within the crystal which, around the world Revolving, bears the name of its dear leader, Under whom every wickedness lay dead, Coloured like gold, on which the sunshine gleams, A stairway I beheld to such a height Uplifted, that mine eye pursued it not. Likewise beheld I down the steps descending So many splendours, that I thought each light That in the heaven appears was there diffused. And as accordant with their natural custom The rooks together at the break of day Bestir themselves to warm their feathers cold; Then some of them fly off without return, Others come back to where they started from, And others, wheeling round, still keep at home; Such fashion it appeared to me was there Within the sparkling that together came, As soon as on a certain step it struck, And that which nearest unto us remained Became so clear, that in my thought I said, "Well I perceive the love thou showest me; But she, from whom I wait the how and when Of speech and silence, standeth still; whence I Against desire do well if I ask not."

(14) ¶There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day: and there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores.

(4) 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;

(79) He who, when he had once seen a person at night, Recognized him without fail when he saw him by day, Saw the king upon the throne, and straightway cried, "This was he who accompanied us on our nightly walk; This is he whose beard possessed such rare talent; Our arrest is due to his sagacity." He added, "'Yea, he was with you,' this great king; My eyes guided me to recognize that king at night, And dwelt lovingly on his face, like the moon at night.

(1) Now was it the ascent no hindrance brooked, Because the sun had his meridian circle To Taurus left, and night to Scorpio; Wherefore as doth a man who tarries not, But goes his way, whate'er to him appear, If of necessity the sting transfix him, In this wise did we enter through the gap, Taking the stairway, one before the other, Which by its narrowness divides the climbers. And as the little stork that lifts its wing With a desire to fly, and does not venture To leave the nest, and lets it downward droop, Even such was I, with the desire of asking Kindled and quenched, unto the motion coming He makes who doth address himself to speak. Not for our pace, though rapid it might be, My father sweet forbore, but said: "Let fly The bow of speech thou to the barb hast drawn." With confidence I opened then my mouth, And I began: "How can one meagre grow There where the need of nutriment applies not?" "If thou wouldst call to mind how Meleager Was wasted by the wasting of a brand, This would not," said he, "be to thee so sour;

(1) Inasmuch as the instantaneous flight Had scattered them asunder o'er the plain, Turned to the mountain whither reason spurs us, I pressed me close unto my faithful comrade, And how without him had I kept my course? Who would have led me up along the mountain? He seemed to me within himself remorseful; O noble conscience, and without a stain, How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee! After his feet had laid aside the haste Which mars the dignity of every act, My mind, that hitherto had been restrained, Let loose its faculties as if delighted, And I my sight directed to the hill That highest tow'rds the heaven uplifts itself. The sun, that in our rear was flaming red, Was broken in front of me into the figure Which had in me the stoppage of its rays; Unto one side I turned me, with the fear Of being left alone, when I beheld Only in front of me the ground obscured. "Why dost thou still mistrust?" my Comforter Began to say to me turned wholly round; "Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee?

(4) Nearer approached we, and were in such place, That there, where first appeared to me a rift Like to a crevice that disparts a wall, I saw a portal, and three stairs beneath, Diverse in colour, to go up to it, And a gate-keeper, who yet spake no word. And as I opened more and more mine eyes, I saw him seated on the highest stair, Such in the face that I endured it not. And in his hand he had a naked sword, Which so reflected back the sunbeams tow'rds us, That oft in vain I lifted up mine eyes. "Tell it from where you are, what is't you wish?" Began he to exclaim; "where is the escort? Take heed your coming hither harm you not!" "A Lady of Heaven, with these things conversant," My Master answered him, "but even now Said to us, 'Thither go; there is the portal.'" "And may she speed your footsteps in all good," Again began the courteous janitor; "Come forward then unto these stairs of ours." Thither did we approach; and the first stair Was marble white, so polished and so smooth, I mirrored myself therein as I appear.

(8) A man who had been to see the prince of Sung and had been presented with ten chariots, was putting on airs in the presence of Chuang Tzŭ. "At Ho-Shang," said the latter, "there was a poor man who supported his family by plaiting rushes. One day his son dived into the river and got a pearl worth a thousand ounces of silver. The father bade him fetch a stone and smash it to pieces, explaining that he could only have got such a pearl very deep down from under the nose of the dragon, which must have been asleep. And he said he was afraid that when the dragon waked, the boy would have a poor chance. "Now the State of Sung is deeper than a deep river, and the prince of Sung is fiercer than a dragon. To get these chariots, you must have caught him asleep. And when he wakes, you will be ground to powder." Some prince having invited Chuang Tzŭ to enter his service, Chuang Tzŭ said in reply to the envoy, "Sir, have you ever noticed a sacrificial ox? It is bedecked with ribbons and fares sumptuously. But when it comes to be slaughtered for the temple, would it not gladly exchange places with some neglected calf?" When Chuang Tzŭ was about to die, his disciples expressed a wish to give him a splendid funeral. But Chuang Tzŭ said, "With Heaven and Earth for my coffin and shell; with the sun, moon, and stars as my burial regalia; and with all creation to escort me to the grave,—are not my funeral paraphernalia ready to hand?"

(9) The second gate. The name of the doorkeeper is: he who shows his face. The name of its warder is: he with a revolving face. The name of the herald is: the consumer