The Angel of Mercy and Visions of Forgiveness — Divine Comedy

As much as remains of heaven's sphere between the third hour's close and dawn, so much remains to the sun of his slope toward the west. Evening is there, and here the noon of night; beams smite full upon their forehead, for the circling path has led them toward sunset. Then a weight of more exceeding splendour presses Dante's front. Amaze possesses him. Both hands lift as a screen, clipping the gorgeous superflux. As a ray striking water or a clear mirror leaps to the opposite part, so refracted light seems to smite the ground, and his sight recoils. What is this, against which I strive to shield the sight in vain, and which toward us moving seems? Marvel not: the family of heaven still with dazzling radiance dims the sense. It is a messenger inviting man's ascent. Such sights ere long, not grievous, shall impart delight, as perception is wrought up to their pitch. The blessed angel hails them: here enter on a ladder far less steep than ye have yet encountered. Behind them, chanted sweet, Blessed the merciful, and happy thou that conquerest.

Lonely each, they go up. Dante asks what Romagna's spirit meant by bliss exclusive, with no partner shared. No wonder, Virgil says: he knows what sorrow waits on his own worst defect, so he chides others that they less may mourn. Because ye point your wishes at a mark where, by communion of possessors, part is lessened, envy bloweth up the sighs of men. No fear of that might touch ye if the love of a higher sphere exalted your desire. There, by how much more they call it ours, so much propriety of each in good increases, and heightened charity wraps that fair cloister in a brighter flame. Dante lacks satisfaction more than if Virgil had been silent. How can good distributed make the many richer than if shared by few? Thy mind, reverting still to things of earth, strikes darkness from true light. The highest good unlimited so speeds to love as beam to lucid body, giving as much of ardour as it finds. The more aspirants to that bliss are multiplied, more good is there to love, and more is loved, as mirrors that reflect, each unto other, propagated light. If these words avail not, Beatrice shall rid thee of this want. Provide only that from thy temples the five scars may be soon erased; even as the two already; those that when they pain thee worst, then kindliest heal.

Dante would have said thou contentest me, when the other round is gained and wondering eyes keep him mute. An ecstatic vision wraps him away. In a temple, a dame of a mother's love: Child, why hast thou dealt with us thus? Behold thy sire and I sorrowing have sought thee. It flees. A female next, waters of resentment on her visage, seems to ask Pisistratus to avenge the arms that clasped their daughter. Benign, undisturb'd, her sovereign: how shall we those requite who wish us evil, if we thus condemn the man that loves us? Then a multitude in fury slay a stripling youth with stones, shouting destroy, destroy; and he, heavy with death, makes his eyes gates to heaven, praying forgiveness of the Almighty Sire on his foes. Dante's spirit returns from no unreal scenes. Virgil sees him totter more than half a league with closed eyes, like a man by wine or sleep overcharged. What thou sawest was shown that freely thou mightst ope thy heart to the waters of peace. I asked not as one who looks only with the eye that sees no more when the body lies spiritless, but to give fresh vigour to thy foot. Such goads the slow and loitering need. They journey through the evening sky against the vespertine ray, and lo, by slow degrees, a fog gathers toward them, dark as night. There is no room for escaping; that mist bereaves them both of sight and the pure air.