Canto 27

As when he darts forth his first rays there where his Maker shed His blood (Ebro falling under the lofty Scales, and the waves in the Ganges scorched by noon) so the sun was now standing;⁴¹¹ so that the day was departing, when the glad Angel of God appeared to us. Outside the flame he was standing on the bank, and was singing, “Beati mundo corde,”⁴¹² in a voice far more living than ours: then, “No one goes further, ye holy souls, if first the fire sting not; enter into it, and to the song beyond be ye not deaf,” he said to us, when we were near him. Whereat I became such, when I heard him, as is he who in the pit is put.⁴¹³ With hands clasped upwards, I stretched forward, looking at the fire, and imagining vividly human bodies I had once seen burnt. The good Escorts turned toward me, and Virgil said to me, “My son, here may be torment, but not death. Bethink thee! bethink thee! and if I even upon Geryon guided thee safe, what shall I do now that I am nearer God? Believe for certain that if within the belly of this flame thou shouldst stand full a thousand years, it could not make thee bald of one hair. And if thou perchance believest that I deceive thee, draw near to it, and make trial for thyself with fine own hands on the hem of thy garments. Put aside now, put aside every fear; turn hitherward, and come on secure.”

The sun was setting where we stood, just as it was casting its first rays where its Maker shed his blood. At the same time, the Ebro lay beneath the high Scales, and the waves of the Ganges were scorched by the midday sun.⁴¹¹ As day was fading, the joyful Angel of God appeared to us. He stood on the bank outside the flame, singing “Beati mundo corde,”⁴¹² in a voice far more vibrant than ours. When we came near him, he said, “Holy souls, no one goes any farther without first feeling the sting of the fire. Enter it, and do not turn a deaf ear to the song beyond.” When I heard him, I felt like a man being put into the pit.⁴¹³ I clasped my hands and stretched them out, looking at the fire. I vividly imagined human bodies I had once seen burning. My good guides turned toward me, and Virgil said, “My son, there may be torment here, but not death. Think! Think! If I guided you safely even on Geryon, what will I do now that I am closer to God? You can be certain that even if you stood in this flame for a full thousand years, it could not take a single hair from your head. And if you think I may be deceiving you, go close to the fire. Test it yourself, with your own hands, using the hem of your clothes. Put aside every fear now. Turn this way and come forward without fear.”

And I still motionless and against conscience!

And I still stood there, against my conscience!

When he saw me still stand motionless and obdurate, he said, disturbed a little, “Now see, son, between Beatrice and thee is this wall.”

When he saw that I still stood motionless and stubborn, he said, a little troubled, “Look, son, this wall stands between you and Beatrice.”

As at the name of Thisbe, Pyramus, at point of death, opened his eyelids and looked at her, what time the mulberry became vermilion, so, my obduracy becoming softened, I turned me to the wise Leader, hearing the name that in my memory is ever welling up. Whereat he nodded his head, amid said, “How! do we want to stay on this side?” then he smiled as one doth at a child who is conquered by an apple.

As Pyramus lay dying, he heard Thisbe’s name, opened his eyes, and looked at her. It was then that the mulberry turned red. Just as he turned to her, I softened and turned to my wise Leader when I heard the name that keeps welling up in my memory. He nodded and said, “What? Do we want to stay on this side?” Then he smiled as one might smile at a child won over by an apple.

Then within the fire he set himself before me, praying Statius, that he would come behind, who previously, on the long road, had divided us. When I was in, into boiling glass I would have thrown myself to cool me, so without measure was the burning there. My sweet Father, to encourage me, went talking ever of Beatrice, saying, “I seem already to see her eyes. A voice was guiding us, which was singing on the other side, and we, ever attentive to it, came forth there where was the ascent. “Venite, benedicti patris mei,”⁴¹⁴ sounded within a light that was there such that it overcame me, and I could not look on it. “The sun departs,” it added, “and the evening comes; tarry not, but hasten your steps so long as the west grows not dark.”

Then he stepped into the fire ahead of me and asked Statius to follow behind me. Statius had walked between us on the long road until then. Once inside, I would have thrown myself into boiling glass to cool off, so intense was the heat. To encourage me, my dear Father kept talking about Beatrice. “I can almost see her eyes already,” he said. A voice singing on the other side guided us. We followed it attentively and came out where the climb began. “Venite, benedicti patris mei,”⁴¹⁴ sounded from a light there. The light overwhelmed me, and I could not look at it. “The sun is setting,” the voice added, “and evening is coming. Do not linger. Hurry on while the western sky is still light.”

The way mounted straight, through the rock, in such direction⁴¹⁵ that I cut off in front of me the rays of the sun which was already low. And of few stairs had we made essay ere, by the vanishing of the shadow, both I and my Sages perceived behind us the setting of the sun. And before the horizon in all its immense regions had become of one aspect, and night had all her dispensations, each of us made of a stair his bed; for the nature of the mountain took from us the power more than the delight of ascending.

The path climbed straight through the rock, in such a direction⁴¹⁵ that I blocked the rays of the already low sun. We had climbed only a few steps when my shadow disappeared. From this, my Sages and I knew that the sun had set behind us. Before the whole vast horizon had taken on the same appearance, and before night had fully settled in, we each made a bed of a step. The nature of the mountain took away our power to climb, though not our desire to do so.

As goats, who have been swift and wayward on the peaks ere they are fed, become tranquil as they ruminate, silent in the shade while the sun is hot, guarded by the herdsman, who on his staff is leaning and, leaning, watches them; and as the shepherd, who lodges out of doors, passes the night beside his quiet flock, watching that the wild beast may not scatter it: such were we all three then, I like a goat, and they hike shepherds, hemmed in on this side and on that by the high rock. Little of the outside could there appear, but through that little I saw the stars both brighter and larger than their wont. Thus ruminating, and thus gazing upon them, sleep overcame me, sleep which oft before a deed be done knows news thereof.

Goats are quick and restless on the mountain peaks before they feed. Afterward, they grow calm as they chew their cud, silent in the shade while the sun is hot. The herdsman guards them, leaning on his staff as he watches. A shepherd, too, spends the night outdoors beside his quiet flock, watching to keep wild beasts from scattering it. So it was with the three of us. I was like a goat, and the other two were like shepherds, enclosed on both sides by the high rock. We could see little of the world outside, but through that small opening I saw the stars. They were brighter and larger than usual. As I pondered and gazed at them, sleep overcame me, sleep that often knows of events before they happen.

At the hour, I think, when from the east on the mountain first beamed Cytherea, who with fire of love seems always burning, I seemed in dream to see a lady, young and beautiful, going through a meadow gathering flowers, and singing she was saying, “Let him know, whoso asks my name, that I am Leah, and I go moving my fair hands around to make myself a garland. To please me at the glass here I adorn me, but my sister Rachel never withdraws from her mirror, and sits all day. She is as fain to look with her fair eyes as I to adorn me with my hands. Her seeing, and me doing, satisfies.”⁴¹⁶

I think it was the hour when Cytherea first shone from the east on the mountain. She always seems to burn with the fire of love. In a dream, I seemed to see a young, beautiful woman walking through a meadow, gathering flowers. As she sang, she said, “Let anyone who asks my name know that I am Leah. I move my lovely hands here and there to make myself a garland. I adorn myself to please myself in the mirror. But my sister Rachel never turns away from her mirror. She sits there all day. She delights in looking with her lovely eyes as much as I delight in adorning myself with my hands. Looking satisfies her, and doing satisfies me.”⁴¹⁶

And now before the splendors which precede the dawn, and rise the more grateful unto pilgrims as in returning they lodge less remote,⁴¹⁷ the shadows fled away on every side, and my sleep with them; whereupon I rose, seeing my great Masters already risen. That pleasant apple which through so many branches the care of mortals goes seeking, to-day shall put in peace thy hungerings.” Virgil used words such as these toward me, and never were there gifts which could be equal in pleasure to these. Such wish upon wish came to me to be above, that at every step thereafter I felt the feathers growing for my flight.

The first light of dawn now appeared. It is more welcome to pilgrims as they stop closer to home on their return.⁴¹⁷ The shadows fled in every direction, and my sleep fled with them. I rose and saw that my great Masters were already awake. “Today, that sweet apple which mortals seek so carefully among so many branches will satisfy your hunger.” Virgil said words like these to me, and no gifts ever gave me as much pleasure. My desire to reach the top grew stronger and stronger. With every step I took after that, I felt feathers growing for my flight.

When beneath us all the stairway had been run, and we were on the topmost step, Virgil fixed his eyes on me, and said, “The temporal fire and the eternal thou hast seen, son, and art come to a place where of myself no further onward I discern. I have brought thee here with understanding and with art; thine own pleasure now take thou for guide: forth art thou from the steep ways, forth art thou from the narrow. See there the sun, which on thy front doth shine; see the young grass, the flowers, the shrubs, which here the earth of itself alone produces. Until rejoicing come the beautiful eyes which weeping made me come to thee, thou canst sit down and thou canst go among them. Expect no more or word or sign from me. Free, upright, and sane is thine own free will, and it would be wrong not to act according to its pleasure; wherefore thee over thyself I crown and mitre.”

When we had climbed the entire stairway and reached the top step, Virgil looked at me and said, “Son, you have seen both the temporary fire and the eternal fire. You have come to a place where I can see no farther on my own. I have brought you here through understanding and skill. Now let your own pleasure guide you. You have left the steep and narrow paths behind. See the sun shining on your face. See the young grass, flowers, and shrubs that the earth produces here on its own. You may sit or walk among them until the beautiful eyes that wept and sent me to you come rejoicing. Expect no more words or signs from me. Your own free will is free, upright, and sound. It would be wrong not to act as it pleases. Therefore, I crown and mitre you ruler over yourself.”