And, much I fear he doth already stray,

So far, that for his help I've risen too late,
By what I've heard of him in Heaven, to-day.
Now go, and with thy winning words ornate,

As thou hast need that he should 'scape from woe,
Help him, that I be not disconsolate.

I am Beatrice who now would have thee go.

I come from whence I would return, full fain.

Love moved me, which now bids me speak, also. When I shall come before my Lord, again,

I'll praise thee oft to him, the Holy One,

Then did she cease, and, straightway, I began.
O Lady of power, through whose aid, alone,

The human kind surmounteth all below
The lower heaven with its lesser zones,
This thy command so pleaseth me, that slow
Obedience seems, though 'twere already done:
No further need hast thou thy wish to show.
But tell me wherefore thou hast not foregone

Thus to descend into this centre of pain,
From the ample place whither thou wouldst be gone.

Since thou desirest such insight deep to gain,
I'll tell thee briefly, then, she answered me,
Why fear I not to seek this dread domain.

Only those things are to be feared which be

Of power to do an ill to other wight;

All else are not; for they undreadful be.
Such God hath made me, by his gracious might,

That woe of yours can't touch me, nor come nigh,
Nor flame of this great burning can affright.

There is a gentle dame, above the sky,

Who hath great ruth of him I'd have thee aid,
So that she breaks stern judgement, there on high.

This gentle dame, beseeching Lucia, said :

Behold, thy faithful one hath need of thee : Him I commend to thee, fair blessed maid. Lucia, the foe of all that cruel be,

Arose, and came to where I then abode

Beside the ancient Rachel seated, free.

She said: O Beatrice, true praise of God,

Why dost not help him, now, who loved thee so,

Who left, through thee, the vulgar throng and road?

Dost thou not hear his anguished plaint, below?

Dost thou not see the death he combats, too,

Upon the flood which seas can ne'er outgo? Ne'er, in the world, were folks so quick to do Aught for their gain, or from their loss retreat, As I, after those words were uttered, flew.

I came down hither, from my blessed seat,

Trusting, full surely, in thy parlance fair

Which honours thee and those who've heard it sweet. After she thus had spoken to me, there,

She turned her shining eyes, weeping, away;
Whereby she made me quicklier hither fare.
And, as she willed, I've come unto thee; yea,
I've ta'en thee from before that savage beast
Which to yon fair hill barred thy shortest way.
How now, then? Wherefore, wherefore hast thou ceased?
Wherefore such cowardice cherish in thy heart?
Why hast thou not frank boldness, now at least,
Since three such blessed ladies, on thy part,

Plead for thee, in the court of Heaven bright,
And such good promise I to thee impart?

Like flowerets that beneath the frost of night,
Bowed down and closed, when brightened by the sun,

Lift themselves opened on their stems, upright,

So my tired strength did I arouse, full soon,
And such good boldness to my heart ran free,

That, as a man released, I thus begun :

Oh she is full of ruth who succoured me;

And courteous thou who didst, so soon, obey

The words of truth which she addressed to thee!

My heart's desire thou hast disposed, alway
So to proceed, by those thy words, and won,
That I return unto my first essay.

Now go for we have both one will, alone:

:

Thou art my guide, my lord, my master thou; Thus said I to him: and, when he moved on, By the deep woody way I entered slow.

CANTO III.

Through me ye pass into the city of woe;
Through me ye pass into eternal pain;
Through me ye pass among the lost, below.
Justice moved my high Maker; not in vain.

The power divine, and wisdom without peer,
And primal love made me, as I remain.
Before I was, no things created were,

But everlasting, and I ever last.

Forsake all hope, all ye who enter here. These words did I behold, as on I passed, In colour dim, written above a gate. Master, their sense is hard, I said, at last. And he, as one well skilled, replied, sedate: Here must all wavering fear aside be laid; All cowardice here must die, and perish straight.