Purgatory

  “Those dulcet lays,” I answer’d, “which, as long Wouldst haply know us, time permits not now

  As of our tongue the beauty does not fade,

  To tell so much, nor can I. Of myself

  Shall make us love the very ink that trac’d them.”

  Learn what thou wishest. Guinicelli I,

  “Brother!” he cried, and pointed at a shade

  Who having truly sorrow’d ere my last,

  Before him, “there is one, whose mother speech

  Already cleanse me.” With such pious joy,

  Doth owe to him a fairer ornament.

  As the two sons upon their mother gaz’d

  He in love ditties and the tales of prose

  From sad Lycurgus rescu’d, such my joy

  Without a rival stands, and lets the fools

  (Save that I more represt it) when I heard

  Talk on, who think the songster of Limoges

  From his own lips the name of him pronounc’d,

  O’ertops him. Rumour and the popular voice

  Who was a father to me, and to those

  They look to more than truth, and so confirm

  My betters, who have ever us’d the sweet

  Opinion, ere by art or reason taught.

  And pleasant rhymes of love. So nought I heard

  Thus many of the elder time cried up

  Nor spake, but long time thoughtfully I went,

  Guittone, giving him the prize, till truth

  Gazing on him; and, only for the fire,

  By strength of numbers vanquish’d. If thou own

  Approach’d not nearer. When my eyes were fed

  So ample privilege, as to have gain’d

  By looking on him, with such solemn pledge,

  Free entrance to the cloister, whereof Christ

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Is Abbot of the college, say to him

  Where stream’d his Maker’s blood, while Libra hangs One paternoster for me, far as needs

  Above Hesperian Ebro, and new fires

  For dwellers in this world, where power to sin

  Meridian flash on Ganges’ yellow tide.

  No longer tempts us.” Haply to make way

  So day was sinking, when the’ angel of God

  For one, that follow’d next, when that was said,

  Appear’d before us. Joy was in his mien.

  He vanish’d through the fire, as through the wave

  Forth of the flame he stood upon the brink,

  A fish, that glances diving to the deep.

  And with a voice, whose lively clearness far

  I, to the spirit he had shown me, drew

  Surpass’d our human, “Blessed are the pure

  A little onward, and besought his name,

  In heart,” he Sang: then near him as we came,

  For which my heart, I said, kept gracious room.

  “Go ye not further, holy spirits!” he cried,

  He frankly thus began: “Thy courtesy

  “Ere the fire pierce you: enter in; and list

  So wins on me, I have nor power nor will

  Attentive to the song ye hear from thence.”

  To hide me. I am Arnault; and with songs,

  I, when I heard his saying, was as one

  Sorely lamenting for my folly past,

  Laid in the grave. My hands together clasp’d,

  Thorough this ford of fire I wade, and see

  And upward stretching, on the fire I look’d,

  The day, I hope for, smiling in my view.

  And busy fancy conjur’d up the forms

  I pray ye by the worth that guides ye up

  Erewhile beheld alive consum’d in flames.

  Unto the summit of the scale, in time

  Th’ escorting spirits turn’d with gentle looks Remember ye my suff’rings.” With such words

  Toward me, and the Mantuan spake: “My son,

  He disappear’d in the refining flame.

  Here torment thou mayst feel, but canst not death.

  Remember thee, remember thee, if I

  CANTO XXVII

  Safe e’en on Geryon brought thee: now I come

  More near to God, wilt thou not trust me now?

  Now was the sun so station’d, as when first

  Of this be sure: though in its womb that flame

  His early radiance quivers on the heights,

  A thousand years contain’d thee, from thy head

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory No hair should perish. If thou doubt my truth,

  Of Beatrice talk’d. “Her eyes,” saith he,

  Approach, and with thy hands thy vesture’s hem

  “E’en now I seem to view.” From the other side

  Stretch forth, and for thyself confirm belief.

  A voice, that sang, did guide us, and the voice

  Lay now all fear, O lay all fear aside.

  Following, with heedful ear, we issued forth,

  Turn hither, and come onward undismay’d.”

  There where the path led upward. “Come,” we heard,

  I still, though conscience urg’d’ no step advanc’d.

  “Come, blessed of my Father.” Such the sounds,

  When still he saw me fix’d and obstinate,

  That hail’d us from within a light, which shone

  Somewhat disturb’d he cried: “Mark now, my son,

  So radiant, I could not endure the view.

  from Beatrice thou art by this wall

  “The sun,” it added, “hastes: and evening comes.

  Divided.” As at Thisbe’s name the eye

  Delay not: ere the western sky is hung

  Of Pyramus was open’d (when life ebb’d

  With blackness, strive ye for the pass.” Our way

  Fast from his veins), and took one parting glance,

  Upright within the rock arose, and fac’d

  While vermeil dyed the mulberry; thus I turn’d

  Such part of heav’n, that from before my steps

  To my sage guide, relenting, when I heard

  The beams were shrouded of the sinking sun.

  The name, that springs forever in my breast.

  Nor many stairs were overpass, when now

  He shook his forehead; and, “How long,” he said, By fading of the shadow we perceiv’d

  “Linger we now?” then smil’d, as one would smile

  The sun behind us couch’d: and ere one face

  Upon a child, that eyes the fruit and yields.

  Of darkness o’er its measureless expanse

  Into the fire before me then he walk’d;

  Involv’d th’ horizon, and the night her lot

  And Statius, who erewhile no little space

  Held individual, each of us had made

  Had parted us, he pray’d to come behind.

  A stair his pallet: not that will, but power,

  I would have cast me into molten glass

  Had fail’d us, by the nature of that mount

  To cool me, when I enter’d; so intense

  Forbidden further travel. As the goats,

  Rag’d the conflagrant mass. The sire belov’d,

  That late have skipp’d and wanton’d rapidly

  To comfort me, as he proceeded, still

  Upon the craggy cliffs, ere they had ta’en

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Their supper on the herb, now silent lie

  A garland, these fair hands unwearied ply.

  And ruminate beneath the umbrage brown,

  To please me at the crystal mirror, here

  While noonday rages; and the goatherd leans

  I deck me. But my sister Rachel, she

  Upon his staff, and leaning watches them:

  Before her glass abides the livelong day,

  And as the swain, that lodges out all night

  Her radiant eyes beholding, ch
arm’d no less,

  In quiet by his flock, lest beast of prey

  Than I with this delightful task. Her joy

  Disperse them; even so all three abode,

  In contemplation, as in labour mine.”

  I as a goat and as the shepherds they,

  And now as glimm’ring dawn appear’d, that breaks Close pent on either side by shelving rock.

  More welcome to the pilgrim still, as he

  A little glimpse of sky was seen above;

  Sojourns less distant on his homeward way,

  Yet by that little I beheld the stars

  Darkness from all sides fled, and with it fled

  In magnitude and rustle shining forth

  My slumber; whence I rose and saw my guide

  With more than wonted glory. As I lay,

  Already risen. “That delicious fruit,

  Gazing on them, and in that fit of musing,

  Which through so many a branch the zealous care

  Sleep overcame me, sleep, that bringeth oft

  Of mortals roams in quest of, shall this day

  Tidings of future hap. About the hour,

  Appease thy hunger.” Such the words I heard

  As I believe, when Venus from the east

  From Virgil’s lip; and never greeting heard

  First lighten’d on the mountain, she whose orb

  So pleasant as the sounds. Within me straight

  Seems always glowing with the fire of love,

  Desire so grew upon desire to mount,

  A lady young and beautiful, I dream’d,

  Thenceforward at each step I felt the wings

  Was passing o’er a lea; and, as she came,

  Increasing for my flight. When we had run

  Methought I saw her ever and anon

  O’er all the ladder to its topmost round,

  Bending to cull the flowers; and thus she sang:

  As there we stood, on me the Mantuan fix’d

  “Know ye, whoever of my name would ask,

  His eyes, and thus he spake: “Both fires, my son,

  That I am Leah: for my brow to weave

  The temporal and eternal, thou hast seen,

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory And art arriv’d, where of itself my ken

  Delicious odour breath’d. A pleasant air,

  No further reaches. I with skill and art

  That intermitted never, never veer’d,

  Thus far have drawn thee. Now thy pleasure take

  Smote on my temples, gently, as a wind

  For guide. Thou hast o’ercome the steeper way,

  Of softest influence: at which the sprays,

  O’ercome the straighter. Lo! the sun, that darts

  Obedient all, lean’d trembling to that part

  His beam upon thy forehead! lo! the herb,

  Where first the holy mountain casts his shade,

  The arboreta and flowers, which of itself

  Yet were not so disorder’d, but that still

  This land pours forth profuse! Till those bright eyes Upon their top the feather’d quiristers

  With gladness come, which, weeping, made me haste

  Applied their wonted art, and with full joy

  To succour thee, thou mayst or seat thee down,

  Welcom’d those hours of prime, and warbled shrill

  Or wander where thou wilt. Expect no more

  Amid the leaves, that to their jocund lays

  Sanction of warning voice or sign from me,

  inept tenor; even as from branch to branch,

  Free of thy own arbitrement to choose,

  Along the piney forests on the shore

  Discreet, judicious. To distrust thy sense

  Of Chiassi, rolls the gath’ring melody,

  Were henceforth error. I invest thee then

  When Eolus hath from his cavern loos’d

  With crown and mitre, sovereign o’er thyself.”

  The dripping south. Already had my steps,

  Though slow, so far into that ancient wood

  CANTO XXVIII

  Transported me, I could not ken the place

  Where I had enter’d, when behold! my path

  Through that celestial forest, whose thick shade

  Was bounded by a rill, which to the left

  With lively greenness the new-springing day

  With little rippling waters bent the grass,

  Attemper’d, eager now to roam, and search

  That issued from its brink. On earth no wave

  Its limits round, forthwith I left the bank,

  How clean soe’er, that would not seem to have

  Along the champain leisurely my way

  Some mixture in itself, compar’d with this,

  Pursuing, o’er the ground, that on all sides

  Transpicuous, clear; yet darkly on it roll’d,

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne’er

  Over the yellow and vermilion flowers

  Admits or sun or moon light there to shine.

  Thus turn’d she at my suit, most maiden-like,

  My feet advanc’d not; but my wond’ring eyes

  Valing her sober eyes, and came so near,

  Pass’d onward, o’er the streamlet, to survey

  That I distinctly caught the dulcet sound.

  The tender May-bloom, flush’d through many a hue,

  Arriving where the limped waters now

  In prodigal variety: and there,

  Lav’d the green sward, her eyes she deign’d to raise, As object, rising suddenly to view,

  That shot such splendour on me, as I ween

  That from our bosom every thought beside

  Ne’er glanced from Cytherea’s, when her son

  With the rare marvel chases, I beheld

  Had sped his keenest weapon to her heart.

  A lady all alone, who, singing, went,

  Upon the opposite bank she stood and smil’d

  And culling flower from flower, wherewith her way

  through her graceful fingers shifted still

  Was all o’er painted. “Lady beautiful!

  The intermingling dyes, which without seed

  Thou, who (if looks, that use to speak the heart,

  That lofty land unbosoms. By the stream

  Are worthy of our trust), with love’s own beam

  Three paces only were we sunder’d: yet

  Dost warm thee,” thus to her my speech I fram’d:

  The Hellespont, where Xerxes pass’d it o’er,

  “Ah! please thee hither towards the streamlet bend (A curb for ever to the pride of man)

  Thy steps so near, that I may list thy song.

  Was by Leander not more hateful held

  Beholding thee and this fair place, methinks,

  For floating, with inhospitable wave

  I call to mind where wander’d and how look’d

  ‘Twixt Sestus and Abydos, than by me

  Proserpine, in that season, when her child

  That flood, because it gave no passage thence.

  The mother lost, and she the bloomy spring.”

  “Strangers ye come, and haply in this place,

  As when a lady, turning in the dance,

  That cradled human nature in its birth,

  Doth foot it featly, and advances scarce

  Wond’ring, ye not without suspicion view

  One step before the other to the ground;

  My smiles: but that sweet strain of psalmody,

  ‘Thou, Lord! hast made me glad,’ will give ye light, 81

  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Which may uncloud your minds. And thou, who stand’st Because the circumambient air throughout

  The foremost, and didst make thy suit to me,

  With its first impulse circles still, unless

  Say if aught else thou wish to hear: for I

 
Aught interpose to cheek or thwart its course;

  Came prompt to answer every doubt of thine.”

  Upon the summit, which on every side

  She spake; and I replied: “l know not how

  To visitation of th’ impassive air

  To reconcile this wave and rustling sound

  Is open, doth that motion strike, and makes

  Of forest leaves, with what I late have heard

  Beneath its sway th’ umbrageous wood resound:

  Of opposite report.” She answering thus:

  And in the shaken plant such power resides,

  “I will unfold the cause, whence that proceeds,

  That it impregnates with its efficacy

  Which makes thee wonder; and so purge the cloud

  The voyaging breeze, upon whose subtle plume

  That hath enwraps thee. The First Good, whose joy

  That wafted flies abroad; and th’ other land

  Is only in himself, created man

  Receiving (as ‘t is worthy in itself,

  For happiness, and gave this goodly place,

  Or in the clime, that warms it), doth conceive,

  His pledge and earnest of eternal peace.

  And from its womb produces many a tree

  Favour’d thus highly, through his own defect

  Of various virtue. This when thou hast heard,

  He fell, and here made short sojourn; he fell,

  The marvel ceases, if in yonder earth

  And, for the bitterness of sorrow, chang’d

  Some plant without apparent seed be found

  Laughter unblam’d and ever-new delight.

  To fix its fibrous stem. And further learn,

  That vapours none, exhal’d from earth beneath,

  That with prolific foison of all seeds,

  Or from the waters (which, wherever heat

  This holy plain is fill’d, and in itself

  Attracts them, follow), might ascend thus far

  Bears fruit that ne’er was pluck’d on other soil.

  To vex man’s peaceful state, this mountain rose

  “The water, thou behold’st, springs not from vein,

  So high toward the heav’n, nor fears the rage

  As stream, that intermittently repairs

  0f elements contending, from that part

  And spends his pulse of life, but issues forth

  Exempted, where the gate his limit bars.

  From fountain, solid, undecaying, sure;

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory And by the will omnific, full supply

  Singing, as if enamour’d, she resum’d

  Feeds whatsoe’er On either side it pours;

  And clos’d the song, with “Blessed they whose sins

  On this devolv’d with power to take away

  Are cover’d.” Like the wood-nymphs then, that tripp’d Remembrance of offence, on that to bring