Them sudden flight had scatter’d over the plain,
Turn’d tow’rds the mountain, whither reason’s voice
Drives us; I to my faithful company
Adhering, left it not.  For how of him
Depriv’d, might I have sped, or who beside
Would o’er the mountainous tract have led my steps
He with the bitter pang of self-remorse
Seem’d smitten.  O clear conscience and upright
How doth a little fling wound thee sore! 
     Soon as his feet desisted (slack’ning pace),
From haste, that mars all decency of act,
My mind, that in itself before was wrapt,
Its thoughts expanded, as with joy restor’d: 
And full against the steep ascent I set
My face, where highest to heav’n its top o’erflows. 
     The sun, that flar’d behind, with ruddy beam
Before my form was broken; for in me
His rays resistance met.  I turn’d aside
With fear of being left, when I beheld
Only before myself the ground obscur’d. 
When thus my solace, turning him around,
Bespake me kindly:  “Why distrustest thou? 
Believ’st not I am with thee, thy sure guide? 
It now is evening there, where buried lies
The body, in which I cast a shade, remov’d
To Naples from Brundusium’s wall.  Nor thou
Marvel, if before me no shadow fall,
More than that in the sky element
One ray obstructs not other.  To endure
Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames
That virtue hath dispos’d, which how it works
Wills not to us should be reveal’d.  Insane
Who hopes, our reason may that space explore,
Which holds three persons in one substance knit. 
Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;
Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been
For Mary to bring forth.  Moreover ye
Have seen such men desiring fruitlessly;
To whose desires repose would have been giv’n,
That now but serve them for eternal grief. 
I speak of Plato, and the Stagyrite,
And others many more.”  And then he bent
Downwards his forehead, and in troubled mood
Broke off his speech.  Meanwhile we had arriv’d
Far as the mountain’s foot, and there the rock
Found of so steep ascent, that nimblest steps
To climb it had been vain.  The most remote
Most wild untrodden path, in all the tract
’Twixt Lerice and Turbia were to this
A ladder easy’ and open of access. 
     “Who knows on which hand now the steep declines?”
My master said and paus’d, “so that he may
Ascend, who journeys without aid of wine,?”
And while with looks directed to the ground
The meaning of the pathway he explor’d,
And I gaz’d upward round the stony height,
Of spirits, that toward us mov’d their steps,
Yet moving seem’d not, they so slow approach’d. 
     I thus my guide address’d:  “Upraise thine eyes,
Lo that way some, of whom thou may’st obtain
Counsel, if of thyself thou find’st it not!”
     Straightway he look’d, and with free speech replied: