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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.

      When I shall be in presence of my Lord,

       Full often will I praise thee unto him.'

       Then paused she, and thereafter I began:

      'O Lady of virtue, thou alone through whom

       The human race exceedeth all contained

       Within the heaven that has the lesser circles,

      So grateful unto me is thy commandment,

       To obey, if 'twere already done, were late;

       No farther need'st thou ope to me thy wish.

      But the cause tell me why thou dost not shun

       The here descending down into this centre,

       From the vast place thou burnest to return to.'

      'Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern,

       Briefly will I relate,' she answered me,

       'Why I am not afraid to enter here.

      Of those things only should one be afraid

       Which have the power of doing others harm;

       Of the rest, no; because they are not fearful.

      God in his mercy such created me

       That misery of yours attains me not,

       Nor any flame assails me of this burning.

      A gentle Lady is in Heaven, who grieves

       At this impediment, to which I send thee,

       So that stern judgment there above is broken.

      In her entreaty she besought Lucia,

       And said, "Thy faithful one now stands in need

       Of thee, and unto thee I recommend him."

      Lucia, foe of all that cruel is,

       Hastened away, and came unto the place

       Where I was sitting with the ancient Rachel.

      "Beatrice" said she, "the true praise of God,

       Why succourest thou not him, who loved thee so,

       For thee he issued from the vulgar herd?

      Dost thou not hear the pity of his plaint?

       Dost thou not see the death that combats him

       Beside that flood, where ocean has no vaunt?"

      Never were persons in the world so swift

       To work their weal and to escape their woe,

       As I, after such words as these were uttered,

      Came hither downward from my blessed seat,

       Confiding in thy dignified discourse,

       Which honours thee, and those who've listened to it.'

      After she thus had spoken unto me,

       Weeping, her shining eyes she turned away;

       Whereby she made me swifter in my coming;

      And unto thee I came, as she desired;

       I have delivered thee from that wild beast,

       Which barred the beautiful mountain's short ascent.

      What is it, then? Why, why dost thou delay?

       Why is such baseness bedded in thy heart?

       Daring and hardihood why hast thou not,

      Seeing that three such Ladies benedight

       Are caring for thee in the court of Heaven,

       And so much good my speech doth promise thee?"

      Even as the flowerets, by nocturnal chill,

       Bowed down and closed, when the sun whitens them,

       Uplift themselves all open on their stems;

      Such I became with my exhausted strength,

       And such good courage to my heart there coursed,

       That I began, like an intrepid person:

      "O she compassionate, who succoured me,

       And courteous thou, who hast obeyed so soon

       The words of truth which she addressed to thee!

      Thou hast my heart so with desire disposed

       To the adventure, with these words of thine,

       That to my first intent I have returned.

      Now go, for one sole will is in us both,

       Thou Leader, and thou Lord, and Master thou."

       Thus said I to him; and when he had moved,

      I entered on the deep and savage way.

      Canto III. The Gate of Hell. The Inefficient or Indifferent. Pope Celestine V. The Shores of Acheron.

       Table of Contents

      "Through me the way is to the city dolent;

       Through me the way is to eternal dole;

       Through me the way among the people lost.

      Justice incited my sublime Creator;

       Created me divine Omnipotence,

       The highest Wisdom and the primal Love.

      Before me there were no created things,

       Only eterne, and I eternal last.

       All hope abandon, ye who enter in!"

      These words in sombre colour I beheld

       Written upon the summit of a gate;

       Whence I: "Their sense is, Master, hard to me!"

      And he to me, as one experienced:

       "Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned,

       All cowardice must needs be here extinct.

      We to the place have come, where I have told thee

       Thou shalt behold the people dolorous

       Who have foregone the good of intellect."

      And after he had laid his hand on mine

       With joyful mien, whence I was comforted,

       He led me in among the secret things.

      There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud

       Resounded through the air without a star,

       Whence I, at the beginning,

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