(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."

(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.

(5) Let thy paths be made pleasant for me; let thy ways be made wide for me to traverse the earth and the expanse of Heaven

(2) And I, when he stretched forth his arm to me, On his baked aspect fastened so mine eyes, That the scorched countenance prevented not His recognition by my intellect; And bowing down my face unto his own, I made reply, "Are you here, Ser Brunetto?" And he: "May't not displease thee, O my son, If a brief space with thee Brunetto Latini Backward return and let the trail go on." I said to him: "With all my power I ask it; And if you wish me to sit down with you, I will, if he please, for I go with him." "O son," he said, "whoever of this herd A moment stops, lies then a hundred years, Nor fans himself when smiteth him the fire. Therefore go on; I at thy skirts will come, And afterward will I rejoin my band, Which goes lamenting its eternal doom." I did not dare to go down from the road Level to walk with him; but my head bowed I held as one who goeth reverently. And he began: "What fortune or what fate Before the last day leadeth thee down here? And who is this that showeth thee the way?"

(2) Thus for themselves and us good furtherance Those shades imploring, went beneath a weight Like unto that of which we sometimes dream, Unequally in anguish round and round And weary all, upon that foremost cornice, Purging away the smoke-stains of the world. If there good words are always said for us, What may not here be said and done for them, By those who have a good root to their will? Well may we help them wash away the marks That hence they carried, so that clean and light They may ascend unto the starry wheels! "Ah! so may pity and justice you disburden Soon, that ye may have power to move the wing, That shall uplift you after your desire, Show us on which hand tow'rd the stairs the way Is shortest, and if more than one the passes, Point us out that which least abruptly falls; For he who cometh with me, through the burden Of Adam's flesh wherewith he is invested, Against his will is chary of his climbing." The words of theirs which they returned to those That he whom I was following had spoken, It was not manifest from whom they came,

(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?"

(6) Thereon he hid himself; and I towards The ancient poet turned my steps, reflecting Upon that saying, which seemed hostile to me. He moved along; and afterward thus going, He said to me, "Why art thou so bewildered?" And I in his inquiry satisfied him. "Let memory preserve what thou hast heard Against thyself," that Sage commanded me, "And now attend here;" and he raised his finger. "When thou shalt be before the radiance sweet Of her whose beauteous eyes all things behold, From her thou'lt know the journey of thy life." Unto the left hand then he turned his feet; We left the wall, and went towards the middle, Along a path that strikes into a valley, Which even up there unpleasant made its stench.

(8) Should my heart not be wretched, my features not haggard Should there not be sadness deep within me? Should I not look like one who has been traveling a long distance, and should ice and heat not have seared my face!... should I not roam the wilderness? My friend who chased wild asses in the mountain, the panther of the wilderness, Enkidu, my friend, who chased wild asses in the mountain, the panther of the wilderness, we joined together, and went up into the mountain. We grappled with and killed the Bull of Heaven, we destroyed Humbaba who dwelled in the Cedar Forest, we slew lions in the mountain passes! My friend, whom I love deeply, who went through every hard- ship with me, Enkidu, my friend, whom I love deeply, who went through every hardship with me, the fate of mankind has overtaken him.

(4) The noble virtue Beatrice understands By the free will; and therefore see that thou Bear it in mind, if she should speak of it." The moon, belated almost unto midnight, Now made the stars appear to us more rare, Formed like a bucket, that is all ablaze, And counter to the heavens ran through those paths Which the sun sets aflame, when he of Rome Sees it 'twixt Sardes and Corsicans go down; And that patrician shade, for whom is named Pietola more than any Mantuan town, Had laid aside the burden of my lading; Whence I, who reason manifest and plain In answer to my questions had received, Stood like a man in drowsy reverie. But taken from me was this drowsiness Suddenly by a people, that behind Our backs already had come round to us. And as, of old, Ismenus and Asopus Beside them saw at night the rush and throng, If but the Thebans were in need of Bacchus, So they along that circle curve their step, From what I saw of those approaching us, Who by good-will and righteous love are ridden.

(1) Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great, That over sea and land thou beatest thy wings, And throughout Hell thy name is spread abroad! Among the thieves five citizens of thine Like these I found, whence shame comes unto me, And thou thereby to no great honour risest. But if when morn is near our dreams are true, Feel shalt thou in a little time from now What Prato, if none other, craves for thee. And if it now were, it were not too soon; Would that it were, seeing it needs must be, For 'twill aggrieve me more the more I age. We went our way, and up along the stairs The bourns had made us to descend before, Remounted my Conductor and drew me. And following the solitary path Among the rocks and ridges of the crag, The foot without the hand sped not at all. Then sorrowed I, and sorrow now again, When I direct my mind to what I saw, And more my genius curb than I am wont, That it may run not unless virtue guide it; So that if some good star, or better thing, Have given me good, I may myself not grudge it.

(1) I cleave the heaven, I open the horizon and I travel over the earth on foot. There come forward to me the Glorious and the Great ones, for I am furnished with numberless Words of Might

(4) The heavens your movements do initiate, I say not all; but granting that I say it, Light has been given you for good and evil, And free volition; which, if some fatigue In the first battles with the heavens it suffers, Afterwards conquers all, if well 'tis nurtured. To greater force and to a better nature, Though free, ye subject are, and that creates The mind in you the heavens have not in charge. Hence, if the present world doth go astray, In you the cause is, be it sought in you; And I therein will now be thy true spy. Forth from the hand of Him, who fondles it Before it is, like to a little girl Weeping and laughing in her childish sport, Issues the simple soul, that nothing knows, Save that, proceeding from a joyous Maker, Gladly it turns to that which gives it pleasure. Of trivial good at first it tastes the savour; Is cheated by it, and runs after it, If guide or rein turn not aside its love. Hence it behoved laws for a rein to place, Behoved a king to have, who at the least Of the true city should discern the tower.

(3) "Up there above us in the life serene," I answered him, "I lost me in a valley, Or ever yet my age had been completed. But yestermorn I turned my back upon it; This one appeared to me, returning thither, And homeward leadeth me along this road." And he to me: "If thou thy star do follow, Thou canst not fail thee of a glorious port, If well I judged in the life beautiful. And if I had not died so prematurely, Seeing Heaven thus benignant unto thee, I would have given thee comfort in the work. But that ungrateful and malignant people, Which of old time from Fesole descended, And smacks still of the mountain and the granite, Will make itself, for thy good deeds, thy foe; And it is right; for among crabbed sorbs It ill befits the sweet fig to bear fruit. Old rumour in the world proclaims them blind; A people avaricious, envious, proud; Take heed that of their customs thou do cleanse thee. Thy fortune so much honour doth reserve thee, One party and the other shall be hungry For thee; but far from goat shall be the grass.

(33) By sympathy with the happy, compassion for the sorrowful, delight in the holy, disregard of the unholy, the psychic nature moves to gracious peace.

(83) Good people walk on whatever befall, the good do not prattle, longing for pleasure; whether touched by happiness or sorrow wise people never appear elated or depressed.

(7) And do Thou, O Lord, the Great Creator! come to me with Thy Good Mind; and do Thou, who bestowest gifts through Thy Righteousness, bestow alike long-lasting life on us. And (that this life may be spent aright, do) Thou by means of Thy lofty words (bestow) the (needed) powerful spiritual help upon Zarathustra and upon us , whereby we may overcome the torments of the tormentor.

(3) And therefore shape thee to bide in this darkness as long as thou mayest, evermore crying after Him that thou lovest. For if ever thou shalt feel Him or see Him, as it may be here, it behoveth always to be in this cloud in this darkness. And if thou wilt busily travail as I bid thee, I trust in His mercy that thou shalt come thereto.

(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) Should my heart not be wretched, my features not haggard? Should there not be sadness deep within me! Should I not look like one who has been traveling a long distance, and should ice and heat not have seared my face!..., should I not roam the wilderness? My friend, the wild ass who chased the wild donkey, panther of the wilderness, Enkidu, the wild ass who chased the wild donkey, panther of the wilderness, we joined together, and went up into the mountain. We grappled with and killed the Bull of Heaven, we destroyed Humbaba who lived in the Cedar Forest, we slew lions in the mountain passes! My friend, whom I love deeply, who went through every hard- ship with me, Enkidu, whom I love deeply, who went through every hardship with me, the fate of mankind has overtaken him.

(123) Let a man avoid evil deeds, as a merchant, if he has few companions and carries much wealth, avoids a dangerous road; as a man who loves life avoids poison.