Canto XXV

Now was it the ascent no hindrance brooked,¹Because the sun had his meridian circleTo Taurus left, and night to Scorpio;²Wherefore as doth a man who tarries not,But goes his way, whate’er to him appear,If of necessity the sting transfix him,In this wise did we enter through the gap,Taking the stairway, one before the other,Which by its narrowness divides the climbers.And as the little stork that lifts its wingWith a desire to fly, and does not ventureTo leave the nest, and lets it downward droop,Even such was I, with the desire of askingKindled and quenched, unto the motion comingHe makes who doth address himself to speak.³Not for our pace, though rapid it might be,My father sweet forbore, but said: “Let flyThe bow of speech thou to the barb hast drawn.”With confidence I opened then my mouth,And I began: “How can one meagre growThere where the need of nutriment applies not?”“If thou wouldst call to mind how Meleager⁴Was wasted by the wasting of a brand,This would not,” said he, “be to thee so sour;And wouldst thou think how at each tremulous motionTrembles within a mirror your own image;That which seems hard would mellow seem to thee.But that thou mayst content thee in thy wishLo Statius here; and him I call and prayHe now will be the healer of thy wounds.”“If I unfold to him the eternal vengeance,”Responded Statius, “where thou present art,Be my excuse that I can naught deny thee.”Then he began: “Son, if these words of mineThy mind doth contemplate and doth receive,They’ll be thy light unto the How thou sayest.The perfect blood, which never is drunk up⁵Into the thirsty veins, and which remainethLike food that from the table thou removest,Takes in the heart for all the human membersVirtue informative, as being thatWhich to be changed to them goes through the veins.Again digest, descends it where ’tis betterSilent to be than say; and then drops thenceUpon another’s blood in natural vase.There one together with the other mingles,One to be passive meant, the other activeBy reason of the perfect place it springs from;⁶And being conjoined, begins to operate,Coagulating first, then vivifyingWhat for its matter it had made consistent.The active virtue, being made a soul⁷As of a plant, (in so far different,This on the way is, that arrived already,)Then works so much, that now it moves and feels⁸Like a sea-fungus, and then undertakesTo organize the powers whose seed it is.Now, Son, dilates and now distends itselfThe virtue from the generator’s heart,Where nature is intent on all the members.But how from animal it man becomesThou dost not see as yet; this is a pointWhich made a wiser man than thou once errSo far, that in his doctrine separateHe made the soul from possible intellect,⁹For he no organ saw by this assumed.Open thy breast unto the truth that’s coming,And know that, just as soon as in the foetusThe articulation of the brain is perfect,The primal Motor turns to it well pleased¹⁰At so great art of nature, and inspiresA spirit new with virtue all replete,Which what it finds there active doth attractInto its substance, and becomes one soul,Which lives, and feels, and on itself revolves.¹¹And that thou less may wonder at my word,Behold the sun’s heat, which becometh wine,Joined to the juice that from the vine distils.Whenever Lachesis has no more thread,¹²It separates from the flesh, and virtuallyBears with itself the human and divine;¹³The other faculties are voiceless all;The memory, the intelligence, and the willIn action far more vigorous than before.Without a pause it falleth of itselfIn marvellous way on one shore or the other;¹⁴There of its roads it first is cognizant.Soon as the place there circumscribeth it,The virtue informative rays round about,As, and as much as, in the living members.And even as the air, when full of rain,By alien rays that are therein reflected,With divers colors shows itself adorned,So there the neighboring air doth shape itselfInto that form which doth impress upon itVirtually the soul that has stood still.And then in manner of the little flame,Which followeth the fire where’er it shifts,After the spirit followeth its new form.Since afterwards it takes from this its semblance,It is called shade; and thence it organizesThereafter every sense, even to the sight.Thence is it that we speak, and thence we laugh;¹⁵Thence is it that we form the tears and sighs,That on the mountain thou mayhap hast heard.According as impress us our desiresAnd other affections, so the shade is shaped,And this is cause of what thou wonderest at.”And now unto the last of all the circlesHad we arrived, and to the right hand turned,And were attentive to another care.There the embankment shoots forth flames of fire,And upward doth the cornice breathe a blastThat drives them back, and from itself sequesters.Hence we must needs go on the open side,And one by one; and I did fear the fireOn this side, and on that the falling down.My Leader said: “Along this place one oughtTo keep upon the eyes a tightened rein,Seeing that one so easily might err.”“Summae Deus clementiae,” in the bosom¹⁶Of the great burning chanted then I heard,Which made me no less eager to turn round;And spirits saw I walking through the flame;Wherefore I looked, to my own steps and theirsApportioning my sight from time to time.After the close which to that hymn is made,Aloud they shouted, “Virum non cognosco”;¹⁷Then recommenced the hymn with voices low.This also ended, cried they: “To the woodDiana ran, and drove forth Helice¹⁸Therefrom, who had of Venus felt the poison.”Then to their song returned they; then the wivesThey shouted, and the husbands who were chaste,As virtue and the marriage vow imposes.And I believe that them this mode suffices,For all the time the fire is burning them;With such care is it needful, and such food,That the last wound of all should be closed up.