Astounded, to the guardian of my steps
I turn’d me, like the chill, who always runs
Thither for succour, where he trusteth most,
And she was like the mother, who her son
Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice
Soothes him, and he is cheer’d; for thus she spake,
Soothing me:  “Know’st not thou, thou art in heav’n? 
And know’st not thou, whatever is in heav’n,
Is holy, and that nothing there is done
But is done zealously and well?  Deem now,
What change in thee the song, and what my smile
had wrought, since thus the shout had pow’r to move thee. 
In which couldst thou have understood their prayers,
The vengeance were already known to thee,
Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour,
The sword of heav’n is not in haste to smite,
Nor yet doth linger, save unto his seeming,
Who in desire or fear doth look for it. 
But elsewhere now l bid thee turn thy view;
So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold.” 
Mine eyes directing, as she will’d, I saw
A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew
By interchange of splendour.  I remain’d,
As one, who fearful of o’er-much presuming,
Abates in him the keenness of desire,
Nor dares to question, when amid those pearls,
One largest and most lustrous onward drew,
That it might yield contentment to my wish;
And from within it these the sounds I heard. 
     “If thou, like me, beheldst the charity
That burns amongst us, what thy mind conceives,
Were utter’d.  But that, ere the lofty bound
Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee,
I will make answer even to the thought,
Which thou hast such respect of.  In old days,
That mountain, at whose side Cassino rests,
Was on its height frequented by a race
Deceived and ill dispos’d:  and I it was,
Who thither carried first the name of Him,
Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man. 
And such a speeding grace shone over me,
That from their impious worship I reclaim’d
The dwellers round about, who with the world
Were in delusion lost.  These other flames,
The spirits of men contemplative, were all
Enliven’d by that warmth, whose kindly force
Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness. 
Here is Macarius; Romoaldo here: 
And here my brethren, who their steps refrain’d
Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart.” 
     I answ’ring, thus; “Thy gentle words and kind,
And this the cheerful semblance, I behold
Not unobservant, beaming in ye all,
Have rais’d assurance in me, wakening it
Full-blossom’d in my bosom, as a rose
Before the sun, when the consummate flower
Has spread to utmost amplitude.  Of thee
Therefore entreat I, father! to declare
If I may gain such favour, as to gaze
Upon thine image, by no covering veil’d.” 
     “Brother!” he thus rejoin’d, “in the last sphere
Expect completion of thy lofty aim,
For there on each desire completion waits,