mountains ascend into a ridge so lofty
that the thunder rolls beneath it. Catria is its name. Beneath it is a
consecrated cell; and in that cell I was called Pietro Damiano.[31] I so
devoted myself to the service of God, that with no other sustenance than
the juice of the olive, I forgot both heat and cold, happy in heavenly
meditation. That cloister made abundant returns in its season to these
granaries of the Lord; but so idle has it become now, that it is fit
the world should know its barrenness. The days of my mortal life were
drawing to a close, when I was besought and drawn into wearing the hat
which descends every day from bad head to worse.[32] St. Peter and St.
Paul came lean and barefoot, getting their bread where they could; but
pastors now-a-days must be lifted from the ground, and have ushers going
before them, and train-bearers behind them, and ride upon palfreys
covered with their spreading mantles, so that two beasts go under one
skin.[33] O Lord, how long!"

At these words Dante saw more splendours come pouring down the ladder,
and wheel round and round, and become at every wheel more beautiful.
The whole dazzling body then gathered round the indignant speaker, and
shouted something in a voice so tremendous, that the poet could liken it
to nothing on earth. The thunder was so overwhelming, that he did not
even hear what they said.[34]

Pallid and stunned, he turned in affright to Beatrice, who comforted him
as a mother comforts a child that wants breath to speak. The shout was
prophetic of the vengeance about to overtake the Church. Beatrice then
directed hisattention to a multitude of small orbs, which increased one
another's beauty by interchanging their splendours. They enclosed the
spirits of those who most combined meditation with love. One of them was
Saint Benedict; and others Macarius and Romoaldo.[35] The light of St.
Benedict issued forth from among its companions to address the poet;
and after explaining how its occupant was unable farther to disclose
himself, inveighed against the degeneracy of the religious orders. It
then rejoined its fellows, and the whole company clustering into one
meteor, swept aloft like a whirlwind. Beatrice beckoned the poet to
ascend after them. He did so, gifted with the usual virtue by her eyes;
and found himself in the twin light of the Gemini, the constellation
that presided over his birth. He was now in the region of the fixed
stars.

"Thou art now," said h