Inferno: Canto II

The day was closing, and the dusk-brown air
Set free from toil all forms of life that dwell
On earth: and all alone did I prepare

To bear the brunt of all the conflict fell,
As of the way so also of the woe,
Which now my mind, that errs not, will retell.

Ye Muses, help, Thought soaring from below,
And Memory, writing all mine eyes did see;
So shall thy greatness yet more nobly show.

Then I began: " O Poet guiding me,
Test well my courage, see if it avail.
Ere to that high task I am sent by thee.

The sire of Silvius, so thou tell'st the tale,
Yet subject to decay, did reach the clime
Immortal, nor did sense corporeal fail."

If, therefore, the great Foe of every crime
Was thus benign to him, as knowing well
The who, the what, — high end in far-off time.

Not unmeet seems it, where wise reasonings dwell,
For he of our dear Rome and its great might
Was chosen sire in Heaven empyreal;

But this and that, to speak truth definite,
Were fixed and stablished for the Holy See
Where the great Peter's Vicar sits of right;

He, in that journey, where he won from thee
His glory, heard of things from whence did flow
The Papal mantle and his Victory.

There later did the Chosen Vessel go
To bring back comfort for that one true creed
Which opes to us salvation from our woe.

But why should I go? Who will this concede?
I nor Æneas am, nor yet am Paul;
Worthy of that nor I myself indeed.

Nor others deem me. Wherefore, to this call
If now I yield, I fear me lest it be
A journey vain. Wise art thou; more than all

I speak thou knowest." And behold, as he
Who wills and wills not, and by new thoughts tost.
Changes his plan, and all his projects flee.

So stood I on that dusky hillside lost;
For musing still, the work all ran to waste,
That at the outset sped its uttermost.

"If I have well thy words' true meaning traced,"
Then answered me that noble Poet's shade,
"Thy soul is now with coward fear disgraced,

Which often hath man's spirit overweighed,
So that it turns him from his high emprise,
As some false vision makes a beast afraid.

That thou from out this fear of thine may'st rise
I why I came and what I heard will say.
When first I looked on thee with pitying eyes,

I was among the souls that hang midway;
And lo! a Lady called me, blest and fair.
So that I asked wherein I might obey.

Bright were her eyes beyond the star's compare,
And she began in accents soft and kind.
With voice angelic, such as they speak there:

O Mantuan spirit, thou of courteous mind.
Whose fame doth still in yonder world endure,
And while the world lasts still its place shall find,

My friend, not Fortune's, on the slope obscure
And desolate is so entangled there.
That he through dread turns back from progress sure;

And much I fear lest he already bear
A doom that makes my succour all too late,
From that which I in Heaven of him did hear.

Now rouse thyself, and, with thy speech ornate,
And with what skill to free him thou may'st know,
Help him, nor leave me thus disconsolate.

I Beatrice am who bid thee go;
I come from clime which to regain I yearn:
Love moved me, and from love my speech doth flow.

When to my Lord's high presence I return,
By me thy praise shall oftentimes be shown.'
Then she was silent: I began in turn:

O Lady of great virtue, thou alone
Dost raise mankind to pass the furthest height
Of that bright heaven by lesser circles known;

So much doth thy behest my soul delight.
E'en service done, repute of sloth would gain;"
Thou need'st not more thy purpose bring to light.

But tell the cause why thou dost not refrain
From passing downward to this centre drear
From that wide realm thou longest to regain.'

Of what thou seek'st so eagerly to hear,'
She answered me, ' I briefly now will tell
Why I to enter here have felt no fear.

Of those things only fear in us should dwell
Which have the power to work another's woe,
Of others none; they are not terrible.

I by God's bounty have been fashioned so
That your great misery leaves me sound and whole,
Nor touches me yon fiery furnace' glow.

A gentle Lady dwells in heaven whose soul
So feels that hindrance whither thee I send,
That judgment stern on high owns her control.

She Lucia called, and bade her to attend,
And said, " Thy faithful one is now in need
Of thee, and I to thee his cause commend."

And Lucia, foe of each unpitying deed,
Hastened, and thither came where with me stays
Rachel, of whom in story old we read.

And said " O Beatrice, God's true praise.
Why help'st thou not the man that loves thee so,
That he for thy sake left the vile herd's ways?

Dost thou not hear his piteous plaint of woe?
Dost thou not see the death he has to face,
Where floods that shame the stormiest sea's boast flow?"

Ne'er in the world went men at such swift pace
Their good to gain, or from their loss retreat,"
As I, when I had heard such words of grace.

Did take the downward path from my blest seat.
In thy fair speech confiding, which brings praise
To thee and those who listen at thy feet.'

And when her tale she ended, then her gaze
She turned, her bright eyes wet with many a tear,
And so she made me come without delays.

And I, as she desired me, sought thee here;
I made thee from before that fierce beast rise.
Which stopped quick climbing up yon mountain fair.

What ails thee then? why, why halt, lingering- wise?
Why doth such baseness in thine heart find place?
Why hast thou not bold zeal for high emprise.

Since three such ladies, blest of God's dear grace,
Care for thee in that heavenly company,
And in my speech such promise thou may'st trace?"

E'en as the flowers, beneath the night's cold sky-
Bent down and closed, when sunrise makes them white,
With open blossoms lift their stalks on high,

So did I then with my half-vanished might;
And such good courage rose within my heart
That I began, as freed from all affright:

O gracious she who did the helper's part,
And courteous thou who did'st so soon obey
The words of truth she did to thee impart:

Thou to my heart such yearning dost convey,
With those thy words, to journey on again,
That I once more by my first purpose stay.

On then; one only will is in us twain;
Thou Leader art, thou Lord, and thou my Guide."
So spake I; and when he moved on, again

I too that pathway wild and dreary tried.