The Portable Dante (34 page)

The heavens seemed to revel in their flames. O widowed Northern Hemisphere, deprived forever of the vision of their light!

And when I looked away from those four stars, turning a little toward the other pole, where no sign of the Wain was visible,

I saw near me an ancient man, alone, whose face commanded all the reverence that any son could offer to his sire.

Long-flowing was his beard and streaked with white, as was his hair, which in two tresses fell to rest upon his chest on either side.

The rays of light from those four sacred stars struck with such radiance upon his face, it was as if the sun were shining there.

“Who are you two who challenged the blind stream and have escaped from the eternal prison?” he said, moving his venerable locks.

“Who guided you? What served you as a lamp to light your way out of the heavy night that keeps the pit of Hell forever black?

Are all the laws of God’s Abyss destroyed? Have new decisions now been made in Heaven so that, though damned, you come up to my cliff?”

My leader quickly seized me by the arm; his words, his touch, the way he looked at me, compelled my knees and brow to reverence.

Then he addressed him: “Not on my behalf have I come here; a lady sent from Heaven asked me to guide this man along his way.

But since it is your will that we reveal the circumstances of our presence here, how can my will deny yours what it asks?

This man has not yet seen his final hour, although so close to it his folly brought him that little time was left to change his ways.

So I was sent to help him, as I said; there was no other way to save his soul than by my guiding him along this road.

Already I have shown him all the Damned; I want to show him now the souls of those who purge themselves of guilt in your domain.

How we came here would take too long to tell; from Heaven comes the power that has served to lead him here to see and hear you now.

May it please you to welcome him—he goes in search of freedom, and how dear that is, the man who gives up life for it well knows.

You
know, you found death sweet in Utica for freedom’s sake; there you put off that robe which will be radiant on the Great Day.

We have not broken Heaven’s timeless laws. This man still lives; Minòs does not bind
me;
I come from that same Round where the chaste eyes

of your dear Marcia still plead with your soul, O blessed heart, to hold her as your own; for love of her, then, bend your will to ours,

allow us to go through your seven realms, and I shall tell her how you have been kind— if you will let me speak your name below. ”

“Marcia was so enchanting to my eyes, ” he answered then, “that while I was alive, there was no wish of hers I would not grant.

She dwells beyond the evil river now, and can no longer move me by that law decreed upon the day I issued forth.

But if a heavenly lady, as you say, moves and directs you, why your flattery? Ask in her name, there is no need for more.

Go with this man, see that you gird his waist with a smooth reed; take care to bathe his face till every trace of filth has disappeared,

for it would not be fitting that he go with vision clouded by the mists of Hell, to face the first of Heaven’s ministers.

Around this little island at its base, down there, just where the waves break on the shore, you will find rushes growing in soft sand.

No other plant producing leaves or stalk that hardens could survive in such a place— only the reeds that yield to buffeting.

When you are ready to begin to scale the mountainside, do not come back this way; the rising sun will show you where to climb. ”

With that he vanished. From my knees I rose, and silent, drawing closer to my guide, I looked into his eyes. He said to me:

“Follow my footsteps; now we must turn back, for over there the plain begins to slope, descending gently to the shore below. ”

The dawn was gaining ground, putting to flight the last hour of the night; I recognized, far off, the rippling waters of the sea.

We made our way along that lonely plain like men who seek the right path they have lost, counting each step a loss till it is found.

When we had reached a place where the cool shade allowed the dew to linger on the slope, resisting a while longer the sun’s rays,

my master placed both of his widespread hands gently upon the tender grass, and I, who understood what his intention was,

offered my tear-stained face to him, and he made my face clean, restoring its true color, once buried underneath the dirt of Hell.

At last we touched upon the lonely shore that never yet has seen its waters sailed by one who then returned to tell the tale.

There, as another willed, he girded me. Oh, miracle! When he pulled out the reed, immediately a second humble plant

sprang up from where the first one had been picked.

The sun was touching the horizon now, the highest point of whose meridian arc was just above Jerusalem; and Night,

revolving always opposite to him, rose from the Ganges with the Scales that fall out of her hand when she outweighs the day.

Thus, where we were, Aurora’s lovely face with a vermilion flush on her white cheeks was aging in a glow of golden light.

We were still standing at the water’s edge, wondering about the road ahead, like men whose thoughts go forward while their bodies stay,

when, suddenly, I saw, low in the west (like the red glow of Mars that burns at dawn through the thick haze that hovers on the sea),

a light—I hope to see it come again!— moving across the waters at a speed faster than any earthly flight could be.

I turned in wonder to my guide, and then, when I looked back at it again, the light was larger and more brilliant than before,

and there appeared, on both sides of this light, a whiteness indefinable, and then, another whiteness grew beneath the shape.

My guide was silent all the while, but when the first two whitenesses turned into wings, and he saw who the steersman was, he cried:

“Fall to your knees, fall to your knees! Behold the angel of the Lord! And fold your hands. Expect to see more ministers like him.

See how he scorns to use man’s instruments; he needs no oars, no sails, only his wings to navigate between such distant shores.

See how he has them pointing up to Heaven: he fans the air with these immortal plumes that do not moult as mortal feathers do. ”

Closer and closer to our shore he came, brighter and brighter shone the bird of God, until I could no longer bear the light,

and bowed my head. He steered straight to the shore, his boat so swift and light upon the wave, it left no sign of truly sailing there;

and the celestial pilot stood astern with blessedness inscribed upon his face. More than a hundred souls were in his ship:

In exitu Israël de Aegypto,
they all were singing with a single voice, chanting it verse by verse until the end.

The angel signed them with the holy cross, and they rushed from the ship onto the shore; he disappeared, swiftly, as he had come.

The souls left there seemed strangers to this place: they roamed about, while looking all around, endeavoring to understand new things.

The sun, which with its shafts of light had chased the Goat out of the heavens’ highest field, was shooting rays of day throughout the sky,

when those new souls looked up to where we were, and called to us: “If you should know the road that leads up to the mountainside, show us. ”

And Virgil answered them: “You seem to think that we are souls familiar with this place, but we, like all of you, are pilgrims here;

we just arrived, not much ahead of you, but by a road which was so rough and hard— to climb this mountain now will be like play. ”

Those souls who noticed that my body breathed, and realized that I was still alive, in their amazement turned a deathly pale.