Purgatory

  Singly across the sylvan shadows, one

  Remembrance back of every good deed done.

  Eager to view and one to ‘scape the sun,

  From whence its name of Lethe on this part;

  So mov’d she on, against the current, up

  On th’ other Eunoe: both of which must first

  The verdant rivage. I, her mincing step

  Be tasted ere it work; the last exceeding

  Observing, with as tardy step pursued.

  All flavours else. Albeit thy thirst may now

  Between us not an hundred paces trod,

  Be well contented, if I here break off,

  The bank, on each side bending equally,

  No more revealing: yet a corollary

  Gave me to face the orient. Nor our way

  I freely give beside: nor deem my words

  Far onward brought us, when to me at once

  Less grateful to thee, if they somewhat pass

  She turn’d, and cried: “My brother! look and hearken.”

  The stretch of promise. They, whose verse of yore

  And lo! a sudden lustre ran across

  The golden age recorded and its bliss,

  Through the great forest on all parts, so bright

  On the Parnassian mountain, of this place

  I doubted whether lightning were abroad;

  Perhaps had dream’d. Here was man guiltless, here

  But that expiring ever in the spleen,

  Perpetual spring and every fruit, and this

  That doth unfold it, and this during still

  The far-fam’d nectar.” Turning to the bards,

  And waxing still in splendor, made me question

  When she had ceas’d, I noted in their looks

  What it might be: and a sweet melody

  A smile at her conclusion; then my face

  Ran through the luminous air. Then did I chide

  Again directed to the lovely dame.

  With warrantable zeal the hardihood

  Of our first parent, for that there were earth

  CANTO XXIX

  Stood in obedience to the heav’ns, she only,

  Woman, the creature of an hour, endur’d not

  83

  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Restraint of any veil: which had she borne

  “Hosanna.” Above, their beauteous garniture

  Devoutly, joys, ineffable as these,

  Flam’d with more ample lustre, than the moon

  Had from the first, and long time since, been mine.

  Through cloudless sky at midnight in her full.

  While through that wilderness of primy sweets

  I turn’d me full of wonder to my guide;

  That never fade, suspense I walk’d, and yet

  And he did answer with a countenance

  Expectant of beatitude more high,

  Charg’d with no less amazement: whence my view

  Before us, like a blazing fire, the air

  Reverted to those lofty things, which came

  Under the green boughs glow’d; and, for a song,

  So slowly moving towards us, that the bride

  Distinct the sound of melody was heard.

  Would have outstript them on her bridal day.

  O ye thrice holy virgins! for your sakes

  The lady called aloud: “Why thus yet burns

  If e’er I suffer’d hunger, cold and watching,

  Affection in thee for these living, lights,

  Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty.

  And dost not look on that which follows them?”

  Now through my breast let Helicon his stream

  I straightway mark’d a tribe behind them walk, Pour copious; and Urania with her choir

  As if attendant on their leaders, cloth’d

  Arise to aid me: while the verse unfolds

  With raiment of such whiteness, as on earth

  Things that do almost mock the grasp of thought.

  Was never. On my left, the wat’ry gleam

  Onward a space, what seem’d seven trees of gold, Borrow’d, and gave me back, when there I look’d.

  The intervening distance to mine eye

  As in a mirror, my left side portray’d.

  Falsely presented; but when I was come

  When I had chosen on the river’s edge

  So near them, that no lineament was lost

  Such station, that the distance of the stream

  Of those, with which a doubtful object, seen

  Alone did separate me; there I stay’d

  Remotely, plays on the misdeeming sense,

  My steps for clearer prospect, and beheld

  Then did the faculty, that ministers

  The flames go onward, leaving, as they went,

  Discourse to reason, these for tapers of gold

  The air behind them painted as with trail

  Distinguish, and it th’ singing trace the sound

  Of liveliest pencils! so distinct were mark’d

  84

  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory All those sev’n listed colours, whence the sun

  From him departing, John accords with me.

  Maketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone.

  The space, surrounded by the four, enclos’d

  These streaming gonfalons did flow beyond

  A car triumphal: on two wheels it came

  My vision; and ten paces, as I guess,

  Drawn at a Gryphon’s neck; and he above

  Parted the outermost. Beneath a sky

  Stretch’d either wing uplifted, ‘tween the midst

  So beautiful, came foul and-twenty elders,

  And the three listed hues, on each side three;

  By two and two, with flower-de-luces crown’d.

  So that the wings did cleave or injure none;

  All sang one song: “Blessed be thou among

  And out of sight they rose. The members, far

  The daughters of Adam! and thy loveliness

  As he was bird, were golden; white the rest

  Blessed for ever!” After that the flowers,

  With vermeil intervein’d. So beautiful

  And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink,

  A car in Rome ne’er grac’d Augustus pomp,

  Were free from that elected race; as light

  Or Africanus’: e’en the sun’s itself

  In heav’n doth second light, came after them

  Were poor to this, that chariot of the sun

  Four animals, each crown’d with verdurous leaf.

  Erroneous, which in blazing ruin fell

  With six wings each was plum’d, the plumage full

  At Tellus’ pray’r devout, by the just doom

  Of eyes, and th’ eyes of Argus would be such,

  Mysterious of all-seeing Jove. Three nymphs

  Were they endued with life. Reader, more rhymes

  ,k the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance;

  Will not waste in shadowing forth their form:

  The one so ruddy, that her form had scarce

  For other need no straitens, that in this

  Been known within a furnace of clear flame:

  I may not give my bounty room. But read

  The next did look, as if the flesh and bones

  Ezekiel; for he paints them, from the north

  Were emerald: snow new-fallen seem’d the third.

  How he beheld them come by Chebar’s flood,

  Now seem’d the white to lead, the ruddy now;

  In whirlwind, cloud and fire; and even such

  And from her song who led, the others took

  As thou shalt find them character’d by him,

  Their treasure, swift or slow. At th’ other wheel,

  Here were they; save as to the pennons; there,

  A band quaternion, each in purple clad,

  85

  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgator
y Advanc’d with festal step, as of them one

  The rest conducted, one, upon whose front

  CANTO XXX

  Three eyes were seen. In rear of all this group,

  Soon as the polar light, which never knows

  Two old men I beheld, dissimilar

  Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil

  In raiment, but in port and gesture like,

  Of other cloud than sin, fair ornament

  Solid and mainly grave; of whom the one

  Of the first heav’n, to duty each one there

  Did show himself some favour’d counsellor

  Safely convoying, as that lower doth

  Of the great Coan, him, whom nature made

  The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix’d;

  To serve the costliest creature of her tribe.

  Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van

  His fellow mark’d an opposite intent,

  Between the Gryphon and its radiance came,

  Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge,

  Did turn them to the car, as to their rest:

  E’en as I view’d it with the flood between,

  And one, as if commission’d from above,

  Appall’d me. Next four others I beheld,

  In holy chant thrice shorted forth aloud:

  Of humble seeming: and, behind them all,

  “Come, spouse, from Libanus!” and all the rest

  One single old man, sleeping, as he came,

  Took up the song—At the last audit so

  With a shrewd visage. And these seven, each

  The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each

  Like the first troop were habited, hut wore

  Uplifting lightly his new-vested flesh,

  No braid of lilies on their temples wreath’d.

  As, on the sacred litter, at the voice

  Rather with roses and each vermeil flower,

  Authoritative of that elder, sprang

  A sight, but little distant, might have sworn,

  A hundred ministers and messengers

  That they were all on fire above their brow.

  Of life eternal. “Blessed thou! who com’st!”

  Whenas the car was o’er against me, straight.

  And, “O,” they cried, “from full hands scatter ye

  Was heard a thund’ring, at whose voice it seem’d

  Unwith’ring lilies;” and, so saying, cast

  The chosen multitude were stay’d; for there,

  Flowers over head and round them on all sides.

  With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt.

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory I have beheld, ere now, at break of day,

  Throws out clear tokens of reviving fire:”

  The eastern clime all roseate, and the sky

  But Virgil had bereav’d us of himself,

  Oppos’d, one deep and beautiful serene,

  Virgil, my best-lov’d father; Virgil, he

  And the sun’s face so shaded, and with mists

  To whom I gave me up for safety: nor,

  Attemper’d at lids rising, that the eye

  All, our prime mother lost, avail’d to save

  Long while endur’d the sight: thus in a cloud

  My undew’d cheeks from blur of soiling tears.

  Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose,

  “Dante, weep not, that Virgil leaves thee: nay, And down, within and outside of the car,

  Weep thou not yet: behooves thee feel the edge

  Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreath’d,

  Of other sword, and thou shalt weep for that.”

  A virgin in my view appear’d, beneath

  As to the prow or stern, some admiral

  Green mantle, rob’d in hue of living flame:

  Paces the deck, inspiriting his crew,

  And o’er my Spirit, that in former days

  When ‘mid the sail-yards all hands ply aloof;

  Within her presence had abode so long,

  Thus on the left side of the car I saw,

  No shudd’ring terror crept. Mine eyes no more

  (Turning me at the sound of mine own name,

  Had knowledge of her; yet there mov’d from her

  Which here I am compell’d to register)

  A hidden virtue, at whose touch awak’d,

  The virgin station’d, who before appeared

  The power of ancient love was strong within me.

  Veil’d in that festive shower angelical.

  No sooner on my vision streaming, smote

  Towards me, across the stream, she bent her eyes; The heav’nly influence, which years past, and e’en

  Though from her brow the veil descending, bound

  In childhood, thrill’d me, than towards Virgil I

  With foliage of Minerva, suffer’d not

  Turn’d me to leftward, panting, like a babe,

  That I beheld her clearly; then with act

  That flees for refuge to his mother’s breast,

  Full royal, still insulting o’er her thrall,

  If aught have terrified or work’d him woe:

  Added, as one, who speaking keepeth back

  And would have cried: “There is no dram of blood,

  The bitterest saying, to conclude the speech:

  That doth not quiver in me. The old flame

  “Observe me well. I am, in sooth, I am

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Beatrice. What! and hast thou deign’d at last

  “Virgin, why so consum’st him?” then the ice,

  Approach the mountain? knewest not, O man!

  Congeal’d about my bosom, turn’d itself

  Thy happiness is whole?” Down fell mine eyes

  To spirit and water, and with anguish forth

  On the clear fount, but there, myself espying,

  Gush’d through the lips and eyelids from the heart.

  Recoil’d, and sought the greensward: such a weight

  Upon the chariot’s right edge still she stood, Of shame was on my forehead. With a mien

  Immovable, and thus address’d her words

  Of that stern majesty, which doth surround

  To those bright semblances with pity touch’d:

  mother’s presence to her awe-struck child,

  “Ye in th’ eternal day your vigils keep,

  She look’d; a flavour of such bitterness

  So that nor night nor slumber, with close stealth,

  Was mingled in her pity. There her words

  Conveys from you a single step in all

  Brake off, and suddenly the angels sang:

  The goings on of life: thence with more heed

  “In thee, O gracious Lord, my hope hath been:”

  I shape mine answer, for his ear intended,

  But went no farther than, “Thou Lord, hast set

  Who there stands weeping, that the sorrow now

  My feet in ample room.” As snow, that lies

  May equal the transgression. Not alone

  Amidst the living rafters on the back

  Through operation of the mighty orbs,

  Of Italy congeal’d when drifted high

  That mark each seed to some predestin’d aim,

  And closely pil’d by rough Sclavonian blasts,

  As with aspect or fortunate or ill

  Breathe but the land whereon no shadow falls,

  The constellations meet, but through benign

  And straightway melting it distils away,

  Largess of heav’nly graces, which rain down

  Like a fire-wasted taper: thus was I,

  From such a height, as mocks our vision, this man

  Without a sigh or tear, or ever these

  Was in the freshness of his being, such,

  Did sing, that with the chiming of heav’n’s sphere, So gifted virtually, that in him
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  Still in their warbling chime: but when the strain

  All better habits wond’rously had thriv’d.

  Of dulcet symphony, express’d for me

  The more of kindly strength is in the soil,

  Their soft compassion, more than could the words

  So much doth evil seed and lack of culture

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Mar it the more, and make it run to wildness.

  These looks sometime upheld him; for I show’d

  CANTO XXXI

  My youthful eyes, and led him by their light

  “O Thou!” her words she thus without delay

  In upright walking. Soon as I had reach’d

  Resuming, turn’d their point on me, to whom

  The threshold of my second age, and chang’d

  They but with lateral edge seem’d harsh before,

  My mortal for immortal, then he left me,

  ‘Say thou, who stand’st beyond the holy stream,

  And gave himself to others. When from flesh

  If this be true. A charge so grievous needs

  To spirit I had risen, and increase

  Thine own avowal.” On my faculty

  Of beauty and of virtue circled me,

  Such strange amazement hung, the voice expir’d

  I was less dear to him, and valued less.

  Imperfect, ere its organs gave it birth.

  His steps were turn’d into deceitful ways,

  A little space refraining, then she spake:

  Following false images of good, that make

  “What dost thou muse on? Answer me. The wave

  No promise perfect. Nor avail’d me aught

  On thy remembrances of evil yet

  To sue for inspirations, with the which,

  Hath done no injury.” A mingled sense

  I, both in dreams of night, and otherwise,

  Of fear and of confusion, from my lips

  Did call him back; of them so little reck’d him,

  Did such a “Yea” produce, as needed help

  Such depth he fell, that all device was short

  Of vision to interpret. As when breaks

  Of his preserving, save that he should view

  In act to be discharg’d, a cross-bow bent

  The children of perdition. To this end

  Beyond its pitch, both nerve and bow o’erstretch’d, I visited the purlieus of the dead:

  The flagging weapon feebly hits the mark;

  And one, who hath conducted him thus high,

  Thus, tears and sighs forth gushing, did I burst

  Receiv’d my supplications urg’d with weeping.

  Beneath the heavy load, and thus my voice