while angelic messengers and ministers from Heaven round her scatter lilies that never fade; and when Dante, overcome by the celestial vision, turns to Virgil with the same instinctive feeling of trust
Col quale il fantolin corre alla mamma,
Quando ha paura
—trust such as is shown by a little child hurrying to its mother when afraid, and exclaims, translating a line of Virgil’s own:
Conosco i segni dell’ antica fiamma,
O how I know, and feel, and recognise
The indications of my youthful love;—
he finds that Virgil, dolcissimo padre, his gentle parent and guide, has left him, and he stands alone in the presence of Beatrice, and hears her voice saying:
Non pianger anco, non pianger ancora;
Chè pianger ti convien per altra spada.
Weep not as yet, Dante, weep not as yet,
Though weep you shortly shall, and for good cause.
Tearless, and with downcast eyes, he listens to her just reproaches, trying not even to see the reflection of himself in the water of the translucent fountain at his side:—
Tanta vergogna mi gravò la fronte.
So strong the shame that weighed my forehead down.
And so he turns aside his glance to the untransparent sward, till comes the line, awful in its reproving simplicity:
Guardami ben: ben son, ben son Beatrice!
Look at me well! Yes, I am Beatrice!