The Divine Comedy by Dante: The Vision Of Purgatory: Canto XXV

It was an hour, when he who climbs, had need     To walk uncrippled: for the sun had now     To Taurus the meridian circle left,     And to the Scorpion left the night. As one     That makes no pause, but presses on his road,     Whate'er betide him, if some urgent need     Impel: so enter'd we upon our way,     One before other; for, but singly, none     That steep and narrow scale admits to climb.     E'en as the young stork lifteth up his wing     Through wish to fly, yet ventures not to quit     The nest, and drops it; so in me desire     Of questioning my guide arose, and fell,     Arriving even to the act, that marks     A man prepar'd for speech. Him all our haste     Restrain'd not, but thus spake the sire belov'd:     Fear not to speed the shaft, that on thy lip     Stands trembling for its flight. Encourag'd thus     I straight began: "How there can leanness come,     Where is no want of nourishment to feed?"     "If thou," he answer'd, "hadst remember'd thee,     How Meleager with the wasting brand     Wasted alike, by equal fires consum'd,     This would not trouble thee: and hadst thou thought,     How in the mirror your reflected form     With mimic motion vibrates, what now seems     Hard, had appear'd no harder than the pulp     Of summer fruit mature. But that thy will     In certainty may find its full repose,     Lo Statius here! on him I call, and pray     That he would now be healer of thy wound."     "If in thy presence I unfold to him     The secrets of heaven's vengeance, let me plead     Thine own injunction, to exculpate me."     So Statius answer'd, and forthwith began:     "Attend my words, O son, and in thy mind     Receive them: so shall they be light to clear     The doubt thou offer'st. Blood, concocted well,     Which by the thirsty veins is ne'er imbib'd,     And rests as food superfluous, to be ta'en     From the replenish'd table, in the heart     Derives effectual virtue, that informs     The several human limbs, as being that,     Which passes through the veins itself to make them.     Yet more concocted it descends, where shame     Forbids to mention: and from thence distils     In natural vessel on another's blood.     Then each unite together, one dispos'd     T' endure, to act the other, through meet frame     Of its recipient mould: that being reach'd,     It 'gins to work, coagulating first;     Then vivifies what its own substance caus'd     To bear. With animation now indued,     The active virtue (differing from a plant     No further, than that this is on the way     And at its limit that) continues yet     To operate, that now it moves, and feels,     As sea sponge clinging to the rock: and there     Assumes th' organic powers its seed convey'd.     'This is the period, son! at which the virtue,     That from the generating heart proceeds,     Is pliant and expansive; for each limb     Is in the heart by forgeful nature plann'd.     How babe of animal becomes, remains     For thy consid'ring. At this point, more wise,     Than thou hast err'd, making the soul disjoin'd     From passive intellect, because he saw     No organ for the latter's use assign'd.     "Open thy bosom to the truth that comes.     Know soon as in the embryo, to the brain,     Articulation is complete, then turns     The primal Mover with a smile of joy     On such great work of nature, and imbreathes     New spirit replete with virtue, that what here     Active it finds, to its own substance draws,     And forms an individual soul, that lives,     And feels, and bends reflective on itself.     And that thou less mayst marvel at the word,     Mark the sun's heat, how that to wine doth change,     Mix'd with the moisture filter'd through the vine.     "When Lachesis hath spun the thread, the soul     Takes with her both the human and divine,     Memory, intelligence, and will, in act     Far keener than before, the other powers     Inactive all and mute. No pause allow'd,     In wond'rous sort self-moving, to one strand     Of those, where the departed roam, she falls,     Here learns her destin'd path. Soon as the place     Receives her, round the plastic virtue beams,     Distinct as in the living limbs before:     And as the air, when saturate with showers,     The casual beam refracting, decks itself     With many a hue; so here the ambient air     Weareth that form, which influence of the soul     Imprints on it; and like the flame, that where     The fire moves, thither follows, so henceforth     The new form on the spirit follows still:     Hence hath it semblance, and is shadow call'd,     With each sense even to the sight endued:     Hence speech is ours, hence laughter, tears, and sighs     Which thou mayst oft have witness'd on the mount     Th' obedient shadow fails not to present     Whatever varying passion moves within us.     And this the cause of what thou marvel'st at."     Now the last flexure of our way we reach'd,     And to the right hand turning, other care     Awaits us. Here the rocky precipice     Hurls forth redundant flames, and from the rim     A blast upblown, with forcible rebuff     Driveth them back, sequester'd from its bound.     Behoov'd us, one by one, along the side,     That border'd on the void, to pass; and I     Fear'd on one hand the fire, on th' other fear'd     Headlong to fall: when thus th' instructor warn'd:     "Strict rein must in this place direct the eyes.     A little swerving and the way is lost."     Then from the bosom of the burning mass,     "O God of mercy!" heard I sung; and felt     No less desire to turn. And when I saw     Spirits along the flame proceeding, I     Between their footsteps and mine own was fain     To share by turns my view. At the hymn's close     They shouted loud, "I do not know a man;"     Then in low voice again took up the strain,     Which once more ended, "To the wood," they cried,     "Ran Dian, and drave forth Callisto, stung     With Cytherea's poison:" then return'd     Unto their song; then marry a pair extoll'd,     Who liv'd in virtue chastely, and the bands     Of wedded love. Nor from that task, I ween,     Surcease they; whilesoe'er the scorching fire     Enclasps them. Of such skill appliance needs     To medicine the wound, that healeth last.