The Soul Free to Rise — Divine Comedy

The natural thirst, never quenched but from the well the woman of Samaria craved, drives Dante in haste after his guide, pity moving him for the vengeful deed though just. Then, even as Luke relates that Christ appeared unto the two upon their way, new-risen from his vaulted grave, a shade appears and after them approaches, contemplating the crowd beneath its feet. They are not ware of it until it speaks: God give you peace, my brethren. Virgil returns a greeting fitted to that kindness, and cries that peace in the blessed council be this spirit's lot, awarded by that court which exiles Virgil to everlasting banishment. How, the shade asks, nor desisting from his speed: if ye be spirits whom God vouchsafes not room above, who up the height has been thus far your guide? If thou observe the tokens the angel traced on this man, he must share the kingdom of the just. But Clotho has not yet drawn his yarn; his soul could not mount of herself; whence I was taken from hell to lead him as far as my lore avails. Instruct us why the mount erewhile shook, and why all at once seemed shouting even from his wave-washed foot.

The question tallies with Dante's wish; thirst feels abatement from expectance. This mount can witness nought irregular, or unsanctioned by punctual rule; here from every change exempt. No influence reaches us other than that which heaven in itself receives. No tempest, shower, hail, snow, frost, or dew falls higher than the brief scale of threefold steps; no thick cloud, lightning, or Iris. Vapour never mounts above the highest of the trinal stairs where Peter's vicegerent stands. Lower, the soil may rock; but here, through wind pent in earth's hollow, it never trembled. Then it trembles when any spirit feels itself so purified that it may rise, or move for rising, and such loud acclaim ensues. Purification is proved by the will alone, that free to change society seizes the soul rejoicing in her will. Desire of bliss is present from the first; but a strong propension hinders, as eager now to fulfil the allotted torment as erewhile to sin. I who in this punishment had lain five hundred years and more have but now felt free wish for happier clime. Therefore thou felt'st the mountain tremble, and heard'st praise over all his limits.

No words may speak Dante's fullness of content. Virgil sees the net, how the toils are loosed, why the mountain rocks and why they rejoice. Who on earth wast thou, and wherefore here so many an age prostrate? In the time when good Titus avenged those piteous gashes, I was abundantly renowned, not yet with faith endued. So passing sweet my vocal spirit, from Tolosa Rome drew me, and I merited a myrtle garland. Statius they name me still. Of Thebes I sang, and next of great Achilles, but fell with the second burthen. Of my flame those sparkles were the seeds I derived from the bright fountain of celestial fire that feeds unnumbered lamps: the song which sounds Aeneas' wanderings, the breast I hung at, the nurse from whose veins I drank. To have lived coeval with the Mantuan, I would bide the revolution of another sun beyond my stated years in banishment. Virgil turns to Dante and by countenance enjoins silence; but laughter and tears wait not for the will in natures most sincere. Dante smiles as one who winks. The shade peers into his eyes: why across thy visage beamed the lightning of a smile? Straitened on either part, Dante sighs. Speak on, the teacher cries. He who guides my ken is that Mantuan, led by whom thou didst presume of men and gods to sing. Now down he bent to embrace my teacher's feet; but he forbade him: Brother, do it not: thou art a shadow, and beholdest a shade. He rising: now hast thou proved the force and ardour of the love I bear thee, when I forget we are but things of air, and as a substance treat an empty shade.