The Valley of the Princes.
After the gracious and glad salutations Had three and four times been reiterated, Sordello backward drew and said, “Who are you?” “Or ever to this mountain were directed The souls deserving to ascend to God, My bones were buried by Octavian. I am Virgilius; and for no crime else Did I lose heaven, than for not having faith”; In this wise then my Leader made reply. As one who suddenly before him sees Something whereat he marvels, who believes And yet does not, saying, “It is! it is not!” So he appeared; and then bowed down his brow, And with humility returned towards him, And, where inferiors embrace, embraced him. “O glory of the Latians, thou,” he said, “Through whom our language showed what it could do, O pride eternal of the place I came from, What merit or what grace to me reveals thee? If I to hear thy words be worthy, tell me If thou dost come from Hell, and from what cloister.” “Through all the circles of the doleful realm,” Responded he, “have I come hitherward; Heaven’s power impelled me, and with that I come. I by not doing, not by doing, lost The sight of that high sun which thou desirest, And which too late by me was recognized. A place there is below not sad with torments, But darkness only, where the lamentations Have not the sound of wailing, but are sighs. There dwell I with the little innocents Snatched by the teeth of Death, or ever they Were from our human sinfulness exempt. There dwell I among those who the three saintly Virtues did not put on, and without vice The others knew and followed all of them. But if thou know and can, some indication Give us by which we may the sooner come Where Purgatory has its right beginning.” He answered: “No fixed place has been assigned us; ’Tis lawful for me to go up and round; So far as I can go, as guide I join thee. But see already how the day declines, And to go up by night we are not able; Therefore ’tis well to think of some fair