Through this wall of living flame, Dante, too, must pass before he can reach the summit of purgatory. His spirit, indeed, is willing, but his flesh is weak; he hesitates long before daring to enter the fiery furnace. Vergil urges him on in the tenderest manner: "The escorting spirits turned with gentle looks Toward me; and the Mantuan spake: 'My son, Here torment thou mayst feel, but canst not death. Remember thee, remember thee, if I Safe e'en on Geryon brought thee; now I come More near to God, wilt thou not trust me now? Of this be sure; though in its womb that flame A thousand years contained thee, from thy head No hair should perish. If thou doubt my truth, Approach; and with thy hands thy vesture's hem Stretch forth, and for thyself confirm belief. Lay now all fear, oh! lay all fear aside. Turn hither, and come onward undismayed.' "I still, though conscience urged, no step advanced. "When still he saw me fixed and obstinate, Somewhat disturb'd he cried: 'Mark now, my son, From Beatrice thou art by this wall Divided.' As at Thisbe's name the eye Of Pyramus was open'd (when life ebbed Fast from his veins), and took one parting glance, While vermeil dyed the mulberry; thus I turned To my sage guide, relenting, when I heard The name that springs forever in my breast. "He shook his forehead; and, 'How long,' he said, 'Linger we now?' then smiled, as one would smile Upon a child that eyes the fruit and yields. Into the fire before me then he walked; And Statius, who erewhile no little space Had parted us, he prayed to come behind. "I would have cast me into molten glass To cool me, when I entered; so intense Raged the conflagrant mass. The sire beloved, To comfort me, as he proceeded, still Of Beatrice talked. 'Her eyes,' saith he, 'E'en now I seem to view.' From the other side A voice, that sang did guide us; and the voice Following, with heedful ear, we issued forth, There where the path led upward. 'Come,' we heard, 'Come, blessed of my father.' Such the sounds That hailed us from within a light; which shone So radiant, I could not endure the view." Above this last terrace stretches out the lovely earthly paradise, but before the poets can reach it night comes on, and Dante sleeps on the steps, guarded by Vergil and Statius, as a flock is watched over by its shepherd. The passage which describes this scene, and Dante's vision, is a beautiful one: