It was called the Valley of the Princes. As they approached it a vision burst upon them of the loveliest spot that could be imagined. If gold and silver and scarlet and green and blue and all the finest colors in the world were put together into a flower garden they would not make anything half so beautiful as was this Valley of the Princes. Not only were the colors so fine, but the perfumes were the sweetest ever breathed. They went quietly and slowly into the valley and sat down. The air about them grew darker and darker as the sun set behind the mountains.
All at once Dante heard some voices singing a gentle hymn. I think it must have been a hymn something like our own little hymn, “Wearily at Daylight’s Close,” for it made Dante think of the Heavenly Father, and look up into the sky, whose only brightness was the stars shining far above his head. As he looked he saw sweep down out of the high heavens two glad angels of God, robed in pale shining green. Each was surrounded with a radiance so bright that it was
dazzling; both carried swords of fire. Lightning never came from the sky more swiftly than did these two angels. They separated as they approached the earth; one placed himself upon the mountain on one side of the valley and the other upon the mountain on the other side. Dante wondered what all this meant, but the man who had told them where to find the valley was still with them. He explained that the angels had come to protect all travellers who were staying in the dark valley until light should come again and they could see to go forward.
Just then Dante turned and saw a great ugly snake winding its way silently through the grass. Quick as a flash of lightning one of the angels descended from his high post, and, with a touch of his flaming sword, turned the snake, which fled in dismay. Then Dante knew that the angels had indeed been sent from heaven, and in his heart he felt very glad that all through this dark night he might be sure of their protecting love. He then quietly laid himself down upon the grass and went to sleep. While sleeping he had a strange dream; an eagle of fire seemed to be bearing him up through the air.
He awoke. It was morning; the sun was shining and the birds were singing. Flowers were blooming all around him—and yet it was not the same place in which he had gone to sleep. He saw on looking about him that he was farther up the mountain side. He turned questioningly to Virgil, who soon told him that while he had slept in the
Valley of the Princes another angel, named Lucia, had been sent from heaven to bear him in her arms over the rough places where he could not have travelled unaided, and that he now stood at the real entrance of the path up the mountain.
“We must pass through that gate which you see in front of you,” said Virgil, “and before you enter it I must tell you that there will be some very hard climbing for you and sometimes you will grow weary and discouraged, but be assured that it will become less painful as you climb. The hardest part is the first part. It grows easier and easier as you near the top, until, when you reach the Terrestrial Paradise, there will be no longer any climbing at all. There you shall again see your beloved Beatrice and she will reveal to you a VISION of God Himself.”
With this they started towards the gate. Now I must tell you about this gate, children, because it was a very peculiar gate, and some of these days you may have to go through it yourselves. As they came near, Dante saw that it had three broad steps leading up to it. The bottom step was like polished marble, and so shining that you could see your face reflected in it. Each traveller who approached it saw just how unclean he was, or how tired, or how cross looking. The next step was a dark purplish black step. It was cracked lengthwise and crosswise, and had a sad look about it as if it were sorry for the reflections which it saw in the bottom step. The third step