My Master, and myself, and all that people Which with him were, appeared as satisfied Unto his notes; and lo! the grave old man, Run to the mountain to strip off the slough, That lets not God be manifest to you." Even as when, collecting grain or tares, The doves, together at their pasture met, Quiet, nor showing their accustomed pride, If aught appear of which they are afraid, Upon a sudden leave their food alone, The song relinquish, and go tow'rds the hill, 115 120 125 130 CANTO III. 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. Was broken in front of me into the figure 60 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? 'Tis evening there already where is buried 'Tis from Brundusium ta'en, and Naples has it. Marvel not at it more than at the heavens, 25 The body within which I cast a shadow; Now if in front of me no shadow fall, 30 To suffer torments, both of cold and heat, Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills Insane is he who hopeth that our reason 35 Which the one Substance in three Persons follows! Mortals, remain contented at the Quia; For if ye had been able to see all, No need there were for Mary to give birth; And ye have seen desiring without fruit, Those whose desire would have been quieted, I speak of Aristotle and of Plato, And many others";—and here bowed his head, There so precipitate we found the rock, 'Twixt Lerici and Turbìa, the most desert, The most secluded pathway is a stair "Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying, And while he held his eyes upon the ground Examining the nature of the path, Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction, And did not seem to move, they came so slowly. "Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said; Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel, Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly, Still was that people as far off from us, After a thousand steps of ours I say, As a good thrower with his hand would reach, Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close, For to lose time irks him most who most knows." By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand And what the foremost does the others do, Huddling themselves against her, if she stop, So moving to approach us thereupon I saw the leader of that fortunate flock, As soon as those in the advance saw broken The light upon the ground at my right side, They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat; Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same. "Without your asking, I confess to you This is a human body which you see, Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft. Marvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded That not without a power which comes from Heaven The Master thus; and said those worthy people : I turned me tow'rds him, and looked at him closely; E'er having seen him, "Now behold!" he said, Then said he with a smile: 'I am Manfredi, The grandson of the Empress Costanza; Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee Go to my daughter beautiful, the mother Of Sicily's honour and of Aragon's, And the truth tell her, if aught else be told. After I had my body lacerated By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms, Of me was sent by Clement at that time, At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento, By malison of theirs is not so lost Eternal Love, that it cannot return, So long as hope has anything of green. True is it, who in contumacy dies Of Holy Church, though penitent at last, In his presumption, unless such decree By making known unto my good Costanza 115 120 125 130 135 140 145 CANTO IV. WHENEVER by delight or else by pain, And hence, whenever aught is heard or seen And other that which the soul keeps entire ; In hearing and in gazing at that spirit; The sun, and I had not perceived it, when We came to where those souls with one accord A greater opening ofttimes hedges up With but a little forkful of his thorns The villager, what time the grape imbrowns, And mounts the summit of Bismantova, Who gave me hope, and made a light for me. 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, "O my sweet Father! turn thee and behold These words of his so spurred me on, that I Strained every nerve, behind him scrambling up, |