St. James examines Dante upon Hope.
If e’er it happen that the Poem Sacred, To which both heaven and earth have set their hand, So that it many a year hath made me lean, O’ercome the cruelty that bars me out From the fair sheepfold, where a lamb I slumbered, An enemy to the wolves that war upon it, With other voice forthwith, with other fleece Poet will I return, and at my font Baptismal will I take the laurel crown; Because into the Faith that maketh known All souls to God there entered I, and then Peter for her sake thus my brow encircled. Thereafterward towards us moved a light Out of that band whence issued the first-fruits Which of his vicars Christ behind him left, And then my Lady, full of ecstasy, Said unto me: “Look, look! behold the Baron For whom below Galicia is frequented.” In the same way as, when a dove alights Near his companion, both of them pour forth, Circling about and murmuring, their affection, So one beheld I by the other grand Prince glorified to be with welcome greeted, Lauding the food that there above is eaten. But when their gratulations were complete, Silently coram me each one stood still, So incandescent it o’ercame my sight. Smiling thereafterwards, said Beatrice: “Illustrious life, by whom the benefactions Of our Basilica have been described, Make Hope resound within this altitude; Thou knowest as oft thou dost personify it As Jesus to the three gave greater clearness.”— “Lift up thy head, and make thyself assured; For what comes hither from the mortal world Must needs be ripened in our radiance.” This comfort came to me from the second fire; Wherefore mine eyes I lifted to the hills, Which bent them down before with too great weight. “Since, through his grace, our Emperor wills that thou Shouldst find thee face to face, before thy death, In the most secret chamber, with his Counts, So that, the truth beholden of this court, Hope, which below there rightfully enamours,