Part 5

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, Which evermore is given them for a grief.

I speak of Aristotle and of Plato, And many others;”—and here bowed his head, And more he said not, and remained disturbed.

We came meanwhile unto the mountain’s foot; There so precipitate we found the rock, That nimble legs would there have been in vain.

’Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert, The most secluded pathway is a stair Easy and open, if compared with that.

“Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill Slopes down,” my Master said, his footsteps staying, “So that who goeth without wings may mount?”

And while he held his eyes upon the ground Examining the nature of the path, And I was looking up around the rock,

On the left hand appeared to me a throng 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, If thou of thine own self can have it not.”

Then he looked at me, and with frank expression Replied: “Let us go there, for they come slowly, And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son.”

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,

When they all crowded unto the hard masses Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close, As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.

“O happy dead! O spirits elect already!” Virgilius made beginning, “by that peace Which I believe is waiting for you all,

Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes, So that the going up be possible, For to lose time irks him most who most knows.”

As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils,

And what the foremost does the others do, Huddling themselves against her, if she stop, Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not;

So moving to approach us thereupon I saw the leader of that fortunate flock, Modest in face and dignified in gait.

As soon as those in the advance saw broken The light upon the ground at my right side, So that from me the shadow reached the rock,

They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat; And all the others, who came after them, 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 Doth he endeavour to surmount this wall.”

The Master thus; and said those worthy people: “Return ye then, and enter in before us,” Making a signal with the back o’ the hand

And one of them began: “Whoe’er thou art, Thus going turn thine eyes, consider well If e’er thou saw me in the other world.”

I turned me tow’rds him, and looked at him closely; Blond was he, beautiful, and of noble aspect, But one of his eyebrows had a blow divided.

When with humility I had disclaimed E’er having seen him, “Now behold!” he said, And showed me high upon his breast a wound.

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 Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon.