Canto XVII

I turned me round to see where I might be, When said a voice, “Here is the passage up”; Which from all other purposes removed me, And made my wish so full of eagerness To look and see who was it that was speaking, It never rests till meeting face to face; But as before the sun, which quells the sight, And in its own excess its figure veils, Even so my power was insufficient here. “This is a spirit divine, who in the way Of going up directs us without asking, And who with his own light himself conceals. He does with us as man doth with himself; For he who sees the need, and waits the asking, Malignly leans already tow’rds denial. Accord we now our feet to such inviting, Let us make haste to mount ere it grow dark; For then we could not till the day return.” Thus my Conductor said; and I and he Together turned our footsteps to a stairway; And I, as soon as the first step I reached, Near me perceived a motion as of wings, And fanning in the face, and saying, “ Beati Pacifici , who are without ill anger.” Already over us were so uplifted The latest sunbeams, which the night pursues, That upon many sides the stars appeared. “O manhood mine, why dost thou vanish so?” I said within myself; for I perceived The vigor of my legs was put in truce. We at the point were where no more ascends The stairway upward, and were motionless, Even as a ship, which at the shore arrives; And I gave heed a little, if I might hear Aught whatsoever in the circle new; Then to my Master turned me round and said: “Say, my sweet Father, what delinquency Is purged here in the circle where we are? Although our feet may pause, pause not thy speech.” And he to me: “The love of good, remiss In what it should have done, is here restored; Here plied again the ill-belated oar; But still more openly to understand, Turn unto me thy mind, and thou shalt gather Some profitable fruit from our delay. Neither Creator nor a creature ever, Son,” he began, “was destitute of love Natural or spiritual; and thou knowest it. The natural was ever without error; But err the other may by evil object, Or by too much, or by too little vigor. While in the first it well directed is, And in the second moderates itself, It cannot be the cause of sinful pleasure; But when to ill it turns, and, with more care Or