ring his senses finds himself in the stream, upheld by the hand
of a nymph (Matilda), who sweeps him along, "swift as a shuttle
bounding o'er the wave," while angels chant "Thou shalt wash me" and
"I shall be whiter than snow."

Freed from all haunting memories of past sins by Lethe's waters, Dante
finally lands on the "blessed shore." There Beatrice's hand-maidens
welcome him, and beseech her to complete her work by revealing her
inner beauty to this mortal, so he can portray it for mankind. But,
although Dante gazes at her in breathless admiration, words fail him
to render what he sees.

"O splendor!
O sacred light eternal! who is he,
So pale with musing in Pierian shades,
Or with that fount so lavishly imbued,
Whose spirit should not fail him in the essay
To represent thee such as thou didst seem,
When under cope of the still-chiming heaven
Thou gavest to open air thy charms reveal'd?"

_Canto XXXII._ Dante is still quenching a "ten-years thirst" by
staring at his beloved, when her attendants admonish him to desist.
But, although he obediently turns aside his eyes, like a man who has
gazed too long at the sun, he sees her image stamped on all he looks
at. He and Statius now humbly follow the glorious procession, which
enters a forest and circles gravely round a barren tree-trunk, to
which the chariot is tethered. Immediately the dry branches burst into
bud and leaf, and, soothed by angelic music, Dante falls asleep, only
to be favored by a vision so startling, that on awakening he eagerly
looks around for Beatrice. The nymph who bore him safely through the
waters then points her out, resting beneath the mystic tree, and
Beatrice, rousing too, bids Dante note the fate of her chariot. The
poet then sees an eagle (the Empire), swoop down from heaven, tear the
tree asunder, and attack the Chariot (the Church), into which a fox
(heresy) has sprung as if in quest of prey. Although the fox is soon
routed by Beatrice, the eagle makes its nest in the chariot, beneath
which arises a seven-headed monster (the seven capital sins), bearing
on its back a giant, who alternately caresses and chastises a whore.

_Canto XXXIII._ The seven Virtues having chanted a hymn, Beatrice
motions to Statius and Dante to follow her, asking the latter why he
is so mute? Rejoining she best knows what he needs, Dante receives
from her lips an explanation of what he has just seen, which he is
bidden reveal