That weeping they should not again be darkened. “Dante, because Virgilius has departed Do not weep yet, do not weep yet awhile; For by another sword thou need’st must weep.” E’en as an admiral, who on poop and prow Comes to behold the people that are working In other ships, and cheers them to well-doing, Upon the left hand border of the car, When at the sound I turned of my own name, Which of necessity is here recorded, I saw the Lady, who erewhile appeared Veiled underneath the angelic festival, Direct her eyes to me across the river. Although the veil, that from her head descended, Encircled with the foliage of Minerva, Did not permit her to appear distinctly, In attitude still royally majestic Continued she, like unto one who speaks, And keeps his warmest utterance in reserve: “Look at me well; in sooth I’m Beatrice! How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain? Didst thou not know that man is happy here?” Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain, But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass,