Part 43

Thus said I know not who among the branches; Whereat Virgilius, Statius, and myself Went crowding forward on the side that rises.

“Be mindful,” said he, “of the accursed ones Formed of the cloud-rack, who inebriate Combated Theseus with their double breasts;

And of the Jews who showed them soft in drinking, Whence Gideon would not have them for companions When he tow’rds Midian the hills descended.”

Thus, closely pressed to one of the two borders, On passed we, hearing sins of gluttony, Followed forsooth by miserable gains;

Then set at large upon the lonely road, A thousand steps and more we onward went, In contemplation, each without a word.

“What go ye thinking thus, ye three alone?” Said suddenly a voice, whereat I started As terrified and timid beasts are wont.

I raised my head to see who this might be, And never in a furnace was there seen Metals or glass so lucent and so red

As one I saw who said: “If it may please you To mount aloft, here it behoves you turn; This way goes he who goeth after peace.”

His aspect had bereft me of my sight, So that I turned me back unto my Teachers, Like one who goeth as his hearing guides him.

And as, the harbinger of early dawn, The air of May doth move and breathe out fragrance, Impregnate all with herbage and with flowers,

So did I feel a breeze strike in the midst My front, and felt the moving of the plumes That breathed around an odour of ambrosia;

And heard it said: “Blessed are they whom grace So much illumines, that the love of taste Excites not in their breasts too great desire,

Hungering at all times so far as is just.”

Purgatorio: Canto XXV

Now was it the ascent no hindrance brooked, Because the sun had his meridian circle To Taurus left, and night to Scorpio;

Wherefore as doth a man who tarries not, But goes his way, whate’er to him appear, If of necessity the sting transfix him,

In this wise did we enter through the gap, Taking the stairway, one before the other, Which by its narrowness divides the climbers.

And as the little stork that lifts its wing With a desire to fly, and does not venture To leave the nest, and lets it downward droop,

Even such was I, with the desire of asking Kindled and quenched, unto the motion coming He makes who doth address himself to speak.

Not for our pace, though rapid it might be, My father sweet forbore, but said: “Let fly The bow of speech thou to the barb hast drawn.”

With confidence I opened then my mouth, And I began: “How can one meagre grow There where the need of nutriment applies not?”

“If thou wouldst call to mind how Meleager Was wasted by the wasting of a brand, This would not,” said he, “be to thee so sour;

And wouldst thou think how at each tremulous motion Trembles within a mirror your own image; That which seems hard would mellow seem to thee.

But that thou mayst content thee in thy wish Lo Statius here; and him I call and pray He now will be the healer of thy wounds.”

“If I unfold to him the eternal vengeance,” Responded Statius, “where thou present art, Be my excuse that I can naught deny thee.”

Then he began: “Son, if these words of mine Thy mind doth contemplate and doth receive, They’ll be thy light unto the How thou sayest.

The perfect blood, which never is drunk up Into the thirsty veins, and which remaineth Like food that from the table thou removest,

Takes in the heart for all the human members Virtue informative, as being that Which to be changed to them goes through the veins