Purgatorio: Canto XXV

'Twas time without delay we journeyed on.
For now on the meridian line the day
Was marked by Taurus, night by Scorpion.

Wherefore, as one is wont who will not stay,
But wends his way, whatever may appear,
If spur of need pricks hard against delay.

So entered we upon the winding stair,
Each before other as the gap we clomb,
So narrow that it parts the climbers there;

And, like the nestling stork that longs to roam,
And lifts its wing and lets it droop again,
And ventures not to leave its sheltering home,

So was I with a wish that burnt amain
To ask, and then was quenched, until at last
I showed as one whose lips to speak are fain;

And my sweet Father, though our pace was fast,
Forebore not, but spake then: "Discharge the bow
Of speech, wherein the steel the wood hath passed."

Then opened I my mouth without ado,
And thus began: " But how can men grow thin
Where they no need of nourishment can know?"

"If thou with Meleager wouldst begin,"
Said he, " life wasting with the wasted brand,
This would not be so hard for thee to win;

Or wouldst reflect how to your wave of hand
The mirror's image waving too doth move,
What now seems hard were light to understand.

But that thou gain the ease thy will doth love,
Lo, here is Statius; him I call, and pray
That he a healer of thy wounds may prove."

"If I to him the eternal things display,"
Then answered Statius, "e'en when thou art nigh,
Let me plead this, I cannot say thee nay."

Then he began: " My son, the words that I
Shall utter let thy watchful mind record;
They to the ' How? ' thou ask'st will light supply.

Blood in its perfect state, which still is stored,
And ne'er is drunk up by the thirsty veins.
Like viands which thou takest from the board,

There, in the heart, from all men's members gains
Creative force, as that which doth the same
Repair, while circling, it that power attains;

Again concoct, in parts which not to name
Is best, it flows, and then is poured upon
Another's blood in vase of Nature's frame.

There this and that together meet as one,
This apt to work, that passive to receive
What this from its perfected source hath won.

Thus joined, at once it worketh to conceive,
Coagulating first, then breathing life
In that where it doth form to matter give.

The active virtue then, with soul-powers rife,
As of a plant — just so far different
That that moves on its way, this ends its strife, —

Doth then so work that to the same extent"
As a sea-fungus it doth move, feel, show
Its power to frame the organs whence 'twas sent.

And now, my son, is seen to spread and grow
The virtue of his heart who generates,
Where Nature's care o'er every limb doth flow.

But how the living soul with reason mates
Thou see'st not yet; this point it is which one,
Wiser than thou art, erring much, misstates,

So that his teaching sets apart, alone,
Potential reason from the living soul,
Seeing no organ that it makes its own.

Now ope thy breast to truth that I unroll.
And learn that soon as in the embryo
The structure of the brain becomes a whole.

Then the Prime Mover turns to it, and lo!""
Glad at such art of Nature, breatheth in
A spirit new, whose potencies o'erflow;

For what it there finds active it doth win
To its own substance, and one soul is made.
Which lives, and feels, itself itself within.

And that thou wonder less at what was said.
See how the sun's heat generateth wine,
Into the juice that flows from vine conveyed.

When Lachesis hath run out all her line,
It from the flesh is freed, and, as of right,
Bears with itself the human and divine.

And all the other powers are silent quite,
But memory, intelligence, and will
Are found in act with more than former might.

Then without pause it passeth on, until
It marvellously reacheth either shore,
And then first knows what path awaits it still.

Soon as that clime doth compass it all o'er,
The virtue formative rays out around,
As much as when the living limbs it bore.

And, as the air, when rainy mists abound,
By rays of alien light which it reflects.
Is seen with many-tinted colours crowned.

So then the air around the soul collects
Into that form which on it hath imprest
The soul that stays, whose virtue this effects.

And, in like manner as the flame's thin crest
Follows the fire wherever it may rove,
So is the soul with that new garment drest;

Wherefore with outward gait it moveth thence,
And as a shade is known, and thus doth frame,
Even to sight, the organs of each sense.

So is it that we speech and laughter claim,
So is it that we form the tears and sighs
That on the Mountain to thy hearing came.

According as desires within us rise,
And other feelings, so is formed the shade.
And hence comes that which caused thee such surprise."

To the last turning now our way we made.
And then we, winding to the right hand, went,
Our eager thoughts by yet a new care swayed.

There from the bank a fiery flame is sent.
And upwards doth the cornice breathe a blast
By which far off 'tis driven and backward bent;

Hence on the open side, perforce, we passed,"
In single file, on this side of the flame
Afraid, on that with fear to fall aghast.

And my Guide said, " Here need we that we tame
Our wandering eyes with tightened curb and rein,
For one false step might make us miss our aim."

"Summa Deus Clementine " was the strain
I heard from out the depth of that great heat,
Which not the less did me to turn constrain;

And I saw spirits through the red flame fleet;
Wherefore, with glances parted here and there,
I looked at them, and then at mine own feet.

And, hard on that which closed their hymn of prayer.
They cried aloud, " Behold, I know not man,"
And then their hymn renewed in low voice clear;

And that too ended, they cried out, " Dian
Turned to the wood, thence Helice to chase,
Since through her veins the taint of Venus ran;"

And then they turned to sing, and sang the praise
Of ladies and of husbands who were chaste.
As those whom virtue in their wedlock sways.

And this tune is enough, I trow, to last.
Through all the time they suffer in the fire;
With such care and such diet is effaced.

As need is, the last wound of ill desire.