In natures most sincere. I did but smile,
When I forget we are but things of air,
62
The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory And as a substance treat an empty shade.”
How chanc’d it covetous desire could find
Place in that bosom, ‘midst such ample store
CANTO XXII
Of wisdom, as thy zeal had treasur’d there?”
First somewhat mov’d to laughter by his words, Now we had left the angel, who had turn’d
Statius replied: “Each syllable of thine
To the sixth circle our ascending step,
Is a dear pledge of love. Things oft appear
One gash from off my forehead raz’d: while they,
That minister false matters to our doubts,
Whose wishes tend to justice, shouted forth:
When their true causes are remov’d from sight.
“Blessed!” and ended with, “I thirst:” and I,
Thy question doth assure me, thou believ’st
More nimble than along the other straits,
I was on earth a covetous man, perhaps
So journey’d, that, without the sense of toil,
Because thou found’st me in that circle plac’d.
I follow’d upward the swift-footed shades;
Know then I was too wide of avarice:
When Virgil thus began: “Let its pure flame
And e’en for that excess, thousands of moons
From virtue flow, and love can never fail
Have wax’d and wan’d upon my sufferings.
To warm another’s bosom so the light
And were it not that I with heedful care
Shine manifestly forth. Hence from that hour,
Noted where thou exclaim’st as if in ire
When ‘mongst us in the purlieus of the deep,
With human nature, ‘Why, thou cursed thirst
Came down the spirit of Aquinum’s hard,
Of gold! dost not with juster measure guide
Who told of thine affection, my good will
The appetite of mortals?’ I had met
Hath been for thee of quality as strong
The fierce encounter of the voluble rock.
As ever link’d itself to one not seen.
Then was I ware that with too ample wing
Therefore these stairs will now seem short to me.
The hands may haste to lavishment, and turn’d,
But tell me: and if too secure I loose
As from my other evil, so from this
The rein with a friend’s license, as a friend
In penitence. How many from their grave
Forgive me, and speak now as with a friend:
Shall with shorn locks arise, who living, aye
63
The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory And at life’s last extreme, of this offence,
Times of primeval innocence restor’d!
Through ignorance, did not repent. And know,
And a new race descended from above!’
The fault which lies direct from any sin
Poet and Christian both to thee I owed.
In level opposition, here With that
That thou mayst mark more clearly what I trace,
Wastes its green rankness on one common heap.
My hand shall stretch forth to inform the lines
Therefore if I have been with those, who wail
With livelier colouring. Soon o’er all the world,
Their avarice, to cleanse me, through reverse
By messengers from heav’n, the true belief
Of their transgression, such hath been my lot.”
Teem’d now prolific, and that word of thine
To whom the sovran of the pastoral song:
Accordant, to the new instructors chim’d.
“While thou didst sing that cruel warfare wag’d
Induc’d by which agreement, I was wont
By the twin sorrow of Jocasta’s womb,
Resort to them; and soon their sanctity
From thy discourse with Clio there, it seems
So won upon me, that, Domitian’s rage
As faith had not been shine: without the which
Pursuing them, I mix’d my tears with theirs,
Good deeds suffice not. And if so, what sun
And, while on earth I stay’d, still succour’d them; Rose on thee, or what candle pierc’d the dark
And their most righteous customs made me scorn
That thou didst after see to hoist the sail,
All sects besides. Before I led the Greeks
And follow, where the fisherman had led?”
In tuneful fiction, to the streams of Thebes,
He answering thus: “By thee conducted first,
I was baptiz’d; but secretly, through fear,
I enter’d the Parnassian grots, and quaff’d
Remain’d a Christian, and conform’d long time
Of the clear spring; illumin’d first by thee
To Pagan rites. Five centuries and more,
Open’d mine eyes to God. Thou didst, as one,
T for that lukewarmness was fain to pace
Who, journeying through the darkness, hears a light Round the fourth circle. Thou then, who hast rais’d Behind, that profits not himself, but makes
The covering, which did hide such blessing from me, His followers wise, when thou exclaimedst, ‘Lo!
Whilst much of this ascent is yet to climb,
A renovated world! Justice return’d!
Say, if thou know, where our old Terence bides,
64
The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Caecilius, Plautus, Varro: if condemn’d
As we have ever us’d.” So custom there
They dwell, and in what province of the deep.”
Was usher to the road, the which we chose
“These,” said my guide, “with Persius and myself,
Less doubtful, as that worthy shade complied.
And others many more, are with that Greek,
They on before me went; I sole pursued,
Of mortals, the most cherish’d by the Nine,
List’ning their speech, that to my thoughts convey’d In the first ward of darkness. There ofttimes
Mysterious lessons of sweet poesy.
We of that mount hold converse, on whose top
But soon they ceas’d; for midway of the road
For aye our nurses live. We have the bard
A tree we found, with goodly fruitage hung,
Of Pella, and the Teian, Agatho,
And pleasant to the smell: and as a fir
Simonides, and many a Grecian else
Upward from bough to bough less ample spreads,
Ingarlanded with laurel. Of thy train
So downward this less ample spread, that none.
Antigone is there, Deiphile,
Methinks, aloft may climb. Upon the side,
Argia, and as sorrowful as erst
That clos’d our path, a liquid crystal fell
Ismene, and who show’d Langia’s wave:
From the steep rock, and through the sprays above
Deidamia with her sisters there,
Stream’d showering. With associate step the bards
And blind Tiresias’ daughter, and the bride
Drew near the plant; and from amidst the leaves
Sea-born of Peleus.” Either poet now
A voice was heard: “Ye shall be chary of me;”
Was silent, and no longer by th’ ascent
And after added: “Mary took more thought
Or the steep walls obstructed, round them cast
For joy and honour of the nuptial feast,
Inquiring eyes. Four handmaids of the day
Than for herself who answers now for you.
Had finish’d now their office, and the fifth
The wom
en of old Rome were satisfied
Was at the chariot-beam, directing still
With water for their beverage. Daniel fed
Its balmy point aloof, when thus my guide:
On pulse, and wisdom gain’d. The primal age
“Methinks, it well behooves us to the brink
Was beautiful as gold; and hunger then
Bend the right shoulder’ circuiting the mount,
Made acorns tasteful, thirst each rivulet
65
The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Run nectar. Honey and locusts were the food,
A crowd of spirits, silent and devout.
Whereon the Baptist in the wilderness
The eyes of each were dark and hollow: pale
Fed, and that eminence of glory reach’d
Their visage, and so lean withal, the bones
And greatness, which the’ Evangelist records.”
Stood staring thro’ the skin. I do not think
Thus dry and meagre Erisicthon show’d,
CANTO XXIII
When pinc’ed by sharp-set famine to the quick.
“Lo!” to myself I mus’d, “the race, who lost
On the green leaf mine eyes were fix’d, like his
Jerusalem, when Mary with dire beak
Who throws away his days in idle chase
Prey’d on her child.” The sockets seem’d as rings,
Of the diminutive, when thus I heard
From which the gems were drops. Who reads the name
The more than father warn me: “Son! our time
Of man upon his forehead, there the M
Asks thriftier using. Linger not: away.”
Had trac’d most plainly. Who would deem, that scent Thereat my face and steps at once I turn’d
Of water and an apple, could have prov’d
Toward the sages, by whose converse cheer’d
Powerful to generate such pining want,
I journey’d on, and felt no toil: and lo!
Not knowing how it wrought? While now I stood
A sound of weeping and a song: “My lips,
Wond’ring what thus could waste them (for the cause O Lord!” and these so mingled, it gave birth
Of their gaunt hollowness and scaly rind
To pleasure and to pain. “O Sire, belov’d!
Appear’d not) lo! a spirit turn’d his eyes
Say what is this I hear?” Thus I inquir’d.
In their deep-sunken cell, and fasten’d then
“Spirits,” said he, “who as they go, perchance, On me, then cried with vehemence aloud:
Their debt of duty pay.” As on their road
“What grace is this vouchsaf’d me?” By his looks
The thoughtful pilgrims, overtaking some
I ne’er had recogniz’d him: but the voice
Not known unto them, turn to them, and look,
Brought to my knowledge what his cheer conceal’d.
But stay not; thus, approaching from behind
Remembrance of his alter’d lineaments
With speedier motion, eyed us, as they pass’d,
Was kindled from that spark; and I agniz’d
66
The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory The visage of Forese. “Ah! respect
Our ransom from his vein.” I answering thus:
This wan and leprous wither’d skin,” thus he
“Forese! from that day, in which the world
Suppliant implor’d, “this macerated flesh.
For better life thou changedst, not five years
Speak to me truly of thyself. And who
Have circled. If the power of sinning more
Are those twain spirits, that escort thee there?
Were first concluded in thee, ere thou knew’st
Be it not said thou Scorn’st to talk with me.”
That kindly grief, which re-espouses us
“That face of thine,” I answer’d him, “which dead To God, how hither art thou come so soon?
I once bewail’d, disposes me not less
I thought to find thee lower, there, where time
For weeping, when I see It thus transform’d.
Is recompense for time.” He straight replied:
Say then, by Heav’n, what blasts ye thus? The whilst
“To drink up the sweet wormwood of affliction
I wonder, ask not Speech from me: unapt
I have been brought thus early by the tears
Is he to speak, whom other will employs.
Stream’d down my Nella’s cheeks. Her prayers devout, He thus: “The water and tee plant we pass’d,
Her sighs have drawn me from the coast, where oft
Virtue possesses, by th’ eternal will
Expectance lingers, and have set me free
Infus’d, the which so pines me. Every spirit,
From th’ other circles. In the sight of God
Whose song bewails his gluttony indulg’d
So much the dearer is my widow priz’d,
Too grossly, here in hunger and in thirst
She whom I lov’d so fondly, as she ranks
Is purified. The odour, which the fruit,
More singly eminent for virtuous deeds.
And spray, that showers upon the verdure, breathe,
The tract most barb’rous of Sardinia’s isle,
Inflames us with desire to feed and drink.
Hath dames more chaste and modester by far
Nor once alone encompassing our route
Than that wherein I left her. O sweet brother!
We come to add fresh fuel to the pain:
What wouldst thou have me say? A time to come
Pain, said I? solace rather: for that will
Stands full within my view, to which this hour
To the tree leads us, by which Christ was led
Shall not be counted of an ancient date,
To call Elias, joyful when he paid
When from the pulpit shall be loudly warn’d
67
The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Th’ unblushing dames of Florence, lest they bare
Of his sure comfort drew me on to climb,
Unkerchief’d bosoms to the common gaze.
And climbing wind along this mountain-steep,
What savage women hath the world e’er seen,
Which rectifies in you whate’er the world
What Saracens, for whom there needed scourge
Made crooked and deprav’d I have his word,
Of spiritual or other discipline,
That he will bear me company as far
To force them walk with cov’ring on their limbs!
As till I come where Beatrice dwells:
But did they see, the shameless ones, that Heav’n
But there must leave me. Virgil is that spirit,
Wafts on swift wing toward them, while I speak,
Who thus hath promis’d,” and I pointed to him;
Their mouths were op’d for howling: they shall taste
“The other is that shade, for whom so late
Of Borrow (unless foresight cheat me here)
Your realm, as he arose, exulting shook
Or ere the cheek of him be cloth’d with down
Through every pendent cliff and rocky bound.”
Who is now rock’d with lullaby asleep.
Ah! now, my brother, hide thyself no more,
CANTO XXIV
Thou seest how not I alone but all
Our journey was not slacken’d by our talk,
Gaze, where thou veil’st the intercepted sun.”
Nor yet our talk by journeying. Still we spake,
Whence I replied: “If thou recall to mind
And urg’d our travel stoutly, like a ship
What we were once together, even yet
When the wind sits astern. The shadowy forms,
Remembrance of those days may grieve
thee sore.
That seem’d things dead and dead again, drew in
That I forsook that life, was due to him
At their deep-delved orbs rare wonder of me,
Who there precedes me, some few evenings past,
Perceiving I had life; and I my words
When she was round, who shines with sister lamp
Continued, and thus spake; “He journeys up
To his, that glisters yonder,” and I show’d
Perhaps more tardily then else he would,
The sun. “Tis he, who through profoundest night
For others’ sake. But tell me, if thou know’st,
Of he true dead has brought me, with this flesh
Where is Piccarda? Tell me, if I see
As true, that follows. From that gloom the aid
68
The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Any of mark, among this multitude,
Was none amongst them took such note of me.
Who eye me thus.”—”My sister (she for whom,
Somewhat I heard him whisper of Gentucca:
‘Twixt beautiful and good I cannot say
The sound was indistinct, and murmur’d there,
Which name was fitter ) wears e’en now her crown,
Where justice, that so strips them, fix’d her sting.
And triumphs in Olympus.” Saying this,
“Spirit!” said I, “it seems as thou wouldst fain He added: “Since spare diet hath so worn
Speak with me. Let me hear thee. Mutual wish
Our semblance out, ‘t is lawful here to name
To converse prompts, which let us both indulge.”
Each one. This,” and his finger then he rais’d,
He, answ’ring, straight began: “Woman is born,
“Is Buonaggiuna,—Buonaggiuna, he
Whose brow no wimple shades yet, that shall make
Of Lucca: and that face beyond him, pierc’d
My city please thee, blame it as they may.
Unto a leaner fineness than the rest,
Go then with this forewarning. If aught false
Had keeping of the church: he was of Tours,
My whisper too implied, th’ event shall tell
And purges by wan abstinence away
But say, if of a truth I see the man
Bolsena’s eels and cups of muscadel.”
Of that new lay th’ inventor, which begins
He show’d me many others, one by one,
With ‘Ladies, ye that con the lore of love’.”
And all, as they were nam’d, seem’d well content;
To whom I thus: “Count of me but as one
For no dark gesture I discern’d in any.
Who am the scribe of love; that, when he breathes,