[2] Secures a safe pathway along the ledge.
[3] “God of clemency supreme,” the beginning of a hymn, sung at Matins, containing a prayer for purity.
[4] “I know not a man,” the words of Mary to the angel—Luke, i. 34.
[5] Helice, or Callisto, the nymph who bore a son to Jupiter, and, having been changed to a bear by Juno, was by Jove transferred with her child to the heavens, where they are seen as the Great and Little Bear.
CANTO XXVI.
Seventh Ledge: the Lustful.—Sinners in the fire, going in opposite directions.—Guido Guinicelli.—Arnaut Daniel.
While we were going on thus along the edge, one before the other, and the good Master was often saying, “Take heed! let it avail that I warn thee,” the sun was striking me on the right shoulder, and now, raying out, was changing all the west from azure to a white aspect; and with my shadow I was making the flame appear more ruddy, and only at such an indication[1] I saw many shades, as they went on, give attention. This was the occasion which gave them a beginning to speak of me, and they began to say, “He seems not a fictitious body;” then toward me, so far as they could do so, certain of them canine, always with regard not to come out where they would not be burned.
[1] At this sign that Dante’s body was that of a living man.
“O thou! who goest, not from being slower, but perhaps from reverence, behind the others, reply to me who in thirst and fire am burning. Nor to me only is thy reply of need, for all these have a greater thirst for it than Indian or Ethiop of cold water. Tell us how it is that thou makest of thyself a wall to the sun, as if thou hadst not yet entered within the net of death.” Thus spoke to me one of them; and I should now have disclosed myself, if I had not been intent on another new thing which then appeared; for through the middle of the burning road were coming people with their faces opposite to these, who made me gaze in suspense. There I see, on every side, all the shades making haste and kissing each other, without stopping, content with brief greeting. Thus within their brown band one ant touches muzzle with another, perchance to enquire their way and their fortune.
Soon as they end the friendly salutation, before the first step runs on beyond, each strives to outcry the other; the new-come folk: “Sodom and Gomorrah,” and the other, “Into the cow enters Pasiphae, that the bull may run to her lust.” Then like cranes, of whom part should fly to the Riphaean mountains,[1] and part toward the sands,[2] these shunning the frost and those the sun, one folk goes, the other comes on, and weeping they return to their first chants, and to the cry which most befits them.