I saw one of them drawing forward to embrace me with so great affection that it moved me to do the like. O shades empty save in aspect! Three times behind it I clasped my hands and as oft returned with them unto my breast. With marvel, I believe, I painted me; wherefore the shade smiled and drew back, and I, following it, pressed forward, Gently it said, that I should pause; then I knew who it was, and I prayed it that to speak with me it would stop a little. It replied to me, “So as I loved thee in the mortal body, so loosed from it I love thee; therefore I stop; but wherefore goest thou?” “Casella mine, in order to return another time to this place where I am, do I make this journey,” said I, “but from thee how has so much time been taken?”[1] [1] “How has thy coming hither been delayed so long since thy death?” And he to me, “No wrong has been done me if he[1] who takes both when and whom it pleases him ofttimes hath denied to me this passage; for of a just will[2] his own is made. Truly for three months he has taken with all peace whoso has wished to enter. Wherefore I who was now turned to the seashore where the water of Tiber grows salt was benignantly received by him.[3] To that outlet has he now turned his wing, because always those assemble there who towards Acheron do not descend.” [1] The Celestial Pilot. [2] That is, of the Divine Will; but there is no explanation of the motive of the delay. [3] The Tiber is the local symbol of the Church of Rome, from whose bosom those who die at peace with her pass to Purgatory. The Jubilee, proclaimed by Boniface VIII., had begun at Christmas, 1299, so that for three months now the Celestial Pilot had received graciously all who had taken advantage of it to gain remission of their sins. And I, “If a new law take not from thee memory or practice of the song of love which was wont to quiet in me all my longings, may it please thee therewith somewhat to comfort my soul, which coming hither with its body is so wearied.” “Love which in my mind discourseth with me,”[1] began he then so sweetly that the sweetness still within me sounds.[2] My Master, and I, and that folk who were with him, appeared so content as if naught else could touch the mind of any. [1] The first verse of a canzone by Dante; the canzone is the second of those upon which he comments in his Convito. [2] Every English reader recalls Milton’s Sonnet to Mr. Henry Lawes:— “Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher Than his Casella, whom he woo’d to sing, Met in the milder shades of purgatory.” Nothing is known of Casella beyond what is implied in Dante’s affectionate record of their meeting. We were all fixed and attentive to his notes; and lo! the venerable old man crying, “What is this, ye laggard spirits? What negligence, what stay is this? Run to the mountain to strip off the slough that lets not God be manifest to you.”