"A heavenly dame, not skilless of these things," Replied the instructor, "told us, even now, 'Pass that way, here the gate is.'" "And may she, Befriending, prosper your ascent," resumed The courteous keeper of the gate. "Come, then, Before our steps." We straightway thither came. The lowest stair was marble white, so smooth And polished, that therein my mirrored form Distinct I saw. The next of hue more dark Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block Cracked lengthwise and across. The third, that lay Massy above, seemed porphyry, that flamed Red as the life-blood spouting from a vein. On this God's Angel either foot sustained, Upon the threshold seated, which appeared A rock of diamond. Up the trinal steps My leader cheerily drew me. "Ask," said he, "With humble heart, that he unbar the bolt." Piously at his holy feet devolved I cast me, praying him, for pity's sake, That he would open to me; but first fell Thrice on my bosom prostrate. Seven times The letter that denotes the inward stain, He, on my forehead, with the blunted point Of his drawn sword, inscribed. And "Look," he cried, "When entered, that thou wash these scars away." Ashes, or earth ta'en dry out of the ground, Were of one color with the robe he wore. From underneath that vestment forth he drew Two keys, of metal twain; the one was gold, Its fellow, silver. With the pallid first, And next the burnished, he so plyed the gate, As to content me well. "Whenever one Faileth of these that in the key-hole straight It turn not, to this alley then expect Access in vain." Such were the words he spake. "One is more precious, but the other needs Skill and sagacity, large share of each, Ere its good task to disengage the knot Be worthily performed. From Peter these I hold, of him instructed that I err Rather in opening, than in keeping fast; So but the suppliant at my feet implore." Then of that hallowed gate he thrust the door. Exclaiming, "Enter, but this warning hear: He forth again departs who looks behind." As in the hinges of that sacred ward The swivels turned, sonorous metal strong. Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily Rocked the Tarpeian when by force bereft Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss To leanness doomed. Attentively I turned, Listening the thunder that first issued forth; And "We praise Thee, O God," methought I heard, In accents blended with sweet melody. The strains came o'er mine ear, e'en as the sound Of choral voices, that in solemn chant With organ mingle, and, now high and clear Come swelling, now float indistinct away.--_Canto IX_. * * * * *