Occasionally the multitude that went in one direction met another which mingled with and passed through it, individuals of both greeting tenderly by the way, as emmets appear to do, when in passing they touch the antennae of one another.  These two multitudes parted with loud and sorrowful cries, proclaiming the offences of which they had been guilty; and then each renewed their spiritual songs and prayers.

The souls here, as in former circles, knew Dante to be a living creature by the shadow which he cast; and after the wonted explanations, he learned who some of them were.  One was his predecessor in poetry, Guido Guinicelli, from whom he could not take his eyes for love and reverence, till the sufferer, who told him there was a greater than himself in the crowd, vanished away through the fire as a fish does in water.  The greater one was Arnauld Daniel, the Provencal poet, who, after begging the prayers of the traveller, disappeared in like manner.

The sun by this time was setting on the fires of Purgatory, when an angel came crossing the road through them, and then, standing on the edge of the precipice, with joy in his looks, and singing, “Blessed are the pure in heart!” invited the three poets to plunge into the flames themselves, and so cross the road to the ascent by which the summit of the mountain was gained.  Dante, clasping his hands, and raising them aloft, recoiled in horror.  The thought of all that he had just witnessed made him feel as if his own hour of death was come.  His companion encouraged him to obey the angel; but he could not stir.  Virgil said, “Now mark me, son; this is the only remaining obstacle between thee and Beatrice;” and then himself and Statius entering the fire, Dante followed them.

“I could have cast myself,” said he, “into molten glass to cool myself, so raging was the furnace.”  Virgil talked of Beatrice to animate him.  He said, “Methinks I see her eyes beholding us.”  There was, indeed, a great light upon the quarter to which they were crossing; and out of the light issued a voice, which drew them onwards, singing, “Come, blessed of my Father!  Behold, the sun is going down, and the night cometh, and the ascent is to be gained.”

The travellers gained the ascent, issuing out of the fire; and the voice and the light ceased, and night was come.  Unable to ascend farther in the darkness, they made themselves a bed, each of a stair in the rock; and Dante, in his happy humility, felt as if he had been a goat lying down for the night near two shepherds.

Towards dawn, at the hour of the rising of the star of love, he had a dream, in which he saw a young and beautiful lady coming over a lea, and bending every now and then to gather flowers; and as she bound the flowers into a garland, she sang, “I am Leah, gathering flowers to adorn myself, that my looks may seem pleasant to me in the mirror.  But my sister Rachel abides before the mirror, flowerless; contented with her beautiful eyes.  To behold is my sister’s pleasure, and to work is mine."[52]