Thou hast at length arrived at Purgatory; See there the cliff that closes it around; See there the entrance, where it seems disjoined. Whilom at dawn, which doth precede the day, When inwardly thy spirit was asleep Upon the flowers that deck the land below, There came a Lady and said: ‘I am Lucia; Let me take this one up, who is asleep; So will I make his journey easier for him.’ Sordello and the other noble shapes Remained; she took thee, and, as day grew bright, Upward she came, and I upon her footsteps. She laid thee here; and first her beauteous eyes That open entrance pointed out to me; Then she and sleep together went away.” In guise of one whose doubts are reassured, And who to confidence his fear doth change, After the truth has been discovered to him, So did I change; and when without disquiet My Leader saw me, up along the cliff He moved, and I behind him, tow’rd the height. Reader, thou seest well how I exalt My theme, and therefore if with greater art I fortify it, marvel not thereat. Nearer approached we, and were in such place, That there, where first appeared to me a rift Like to a crevice that disparts a wall, I saw a portal, and three stairs beneath, Diverse in colour, to go up to it, And a gate-keeper, who yet spake no word. And as I opened more and more mine eyes, I saw him seated on the highest stair, Such in the face that I endured it not. And in his hand he had a naked sword, Which so reflected back the sunbeams tow’rds us, That oft in vain I lifted up mine eyes. “Tell it from where you are, what is’t you wish?” Began he to exclaim; “where is the escort? Take heed your coming hither harm you not!” “A Lady of Heaven, with these things conversant,” My Master answered him, “but even now Said to us, ‘Thither go; there is the portal.’” “And may she speed your footsteps in all good,” Again began the courteous janitor; “Come forward then unto these stairs of ours.” Thither did we approach; and the first stair Was marble white, so polished and so smooth, I mirrored myself therein as I appear. The second, tinct of deeper hue than perse, Was of a calcined and uneven stone, Cracked all asunder lengthwise and across. The third, that uppermost rests massively, Porphyry seemed to me, as flaming red As blood that from a vein is spirting forth. Both of his feet was holding upon this The Angel of God, upon the threshold seated, Which seemed to me a stone of diamond. Along the three stairs upward with good will Did my Conductor draw me, saying: “Ask Humbly that he the fastening may undo.” Devoutly at the holy feet I cast me, For mercy’s sake besought that he would open, But first upon my breast three times I smote.