Part 21

Whoe’er of pencil master was or stile, That could portray the shades and traits which there Would cause each subtile genius to admire?

Dead seemed the dead, the living seemed alive; Better than I saw not who saw the truth, All that I trod upon while bowed I went.

Now wax ye proud, and on with looks uplifted, Ye sons of Eve, and bow not down your faces So that ye may behold your evil ways!

More of the mount by us was now encompassed, And far more spent the circuit of the sun, Than had the mind preoccupied imagined,

When he, who ever watchful in advance Was going on, began: “Lift up thy head, ’Tis no more time to go thus meditating.

Lo there an Angel who is making haste To come towards us; lo, returning is From service of the day the sixth handmaiden.

With reverence thine acts and looks adorn, So that he may delight to speed us upward; Think that this day will never dawn again.”

I was familiar with his admonition Ever to lose no time; so on this theme He could not unto me speak covertly.

Towards us came the being beautiful Vested in white, and in his countenance Such as appears the tremulous morning star.

His arms he opened, and opened then his wings; “Come,” said he, “near at hand here are the steps, And easy from henceforth is the ascent.”

At this announcement few are they who come! O human creatures, born to soar aloft, Why fall ye thus before a little wind?

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?”

He answered: “When the P’s which have remained Still on thy face almost obliterate Shall wholly, as the first is, be erased,

Thy feet will be so vanquished by good will, That not alone they shall not feel fatigue, But urging up will be to them delight.”

Then did I even as they do who are going With something on the head to them unknown, Unless the signs of others make them doubt,

Wherefore the hand to ascertain is helpful, And seeks and finds, and doth fulfill the office Which cannot be accomplished by the sight;

And with the fingers of the right hand spread I found but six the letters, that had carved Upon my temples he who bore the keys;

Upon beholding which my Leader smiled.

Purgatorio: Canto XIII

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.