Among those was I who are in suspense, And a fair, saintly Lady called to me In such wise, I besought her to command me.
Her eyes where shining brighter than the Star;
And she began to say, gentle and low, With voice angelical, in her own language:
'O spirit courteous of Mantua, Of whom the fame still in the world endures, And shall endure, long-lasting as the world;
A friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune, Upon the desert slope is so impeded Upon his way, that he has turned through terror, And may, I fear, already be so lost, That I too late have risen to his succour, From that which I have heard of him in Heaven.
Bestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate, And with what needful is for his release, Assist him so, that I may be consoled.
Beatrice am I, who do bid thee go;
I come from there, where I would fain return;
Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak.
When I shall be in presence of my Lord, Full often will I praise thee unto him.'
Then paused she, and thereafter I began:
'O Lady of virtue, thou alone through whom The human race exceedeth all contained Within the heaven that has the lesser circles, So grateful unto me is thy commandment, To obey, if 'twere already done, were late;
No farther need'st thou ope to me thy wish.
But the cause tell me why thou dost not shun The here descending down into this centre, From the vast place thou burnest to return to.'
'Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern, Briefly will I relate,' she answered me, 'Why I am not afraid to enter here.
Of those things only should one be afraid Which have the power of doing others harm;
Of the rest, no; because they are not fearful.
God in his mercy such created me That misery of yours attains me not, Nor any flame assails me of this burning.
A gentle Lady is in Heaven, who grieves At this impediment, to which I send thee, So that stern judgment there above is broken.