Page 3 of Purgatory


  Of Charles, that of thy courtesy thou pray

  In Apennine above the Hermit’s seat.

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory E’en where its name is cancel’d, there came I,

  To the great river with such headlong sweep

  Pierc’d in the heart, fleeing away on foot,

  Rush’d, that nought stay’d its course. My stiffen’d frame And bloodying the plain. Here sight and speech

  Laid at his mouth the fell Archiano found,

  Fail’d me, and finishing with Mary’s name

  And dash’d it into Arno, from my breast

  I fell, and tenantless my flesh remain’d.

  Loos’ning the cross, that of myself I made

  I will report the truth; which thou again0

  When overcome with pain. He hurl’d me on,

  Tell to the living. Me God’s angel took,

  Along the banks and bottom of his course;

  Whilst he of hell exclaim’d: “O thou from heav’n!

  Then in his muddy spoils encircling wrapt.”

  Say wherefore hast thou robb’d me? Thou of him

  “Ah! when thou to the world shalt be return’d, Th’ eternal portion bear’st with thee away

  And rested after thy long road,” so spake

  For one poor tear that he deprives me of.

  Next the third spirit; “then remember me.

  But of the other, other rule I make.”

  I once was Pia. Sienna gave me life,

  “Thou knowest how in the atmosphere collects

  Maremma took it from me. That he knows,

  That vapour dank, returning into water,

  Who me with jewell’d ring had first espous’d.”

  Soon as it mounts where cold condenses it.

  That evil will, which in his intellect

  CANTO VI

  Still follows evil, came, and rais’d the wind

  When from their game of dice men separate,

  And smoky mist, by virtue of the power

  He, who hath lost, remains in sadness fix’d,

  Given by his nature. Thence the valley, soon

  Revolving in his mind, what luckless throws

  As day was spent, he cover’d o’er with cloud

  He cast: but meanwhile all the company

  From Pratomagno to the mountain range,

  Go with the other; one before him runs,

  And stretch’d the sky above, so that the air

  And one behind his mantle twitches, one

  Impregnate chang’d to water. Fell the rain,

  Fast by his side bids him remember him.

  And to the fosses came all that the land

  He stops not; and each one, to whom his hand

  Contain’d not; and, as mightiest streams are wont,

  16

  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Is stretch’d, well knows he bids him stand aside;

  Or is thy saying not to me reveal’d?”

  And thus he from the press defends himself.

  He thus to me: “Both what I write is plain,

  E’en such was I in that close-crowding throng;

  And these deceiv’d not in their hope, if well

  And turning so my face around to all,

  Thy mind consider, that the sacred height

  And promising, I ‘scap’d from it with pains.

  Of judgment doth not stoop, because love’s flame

  Here of Arezzo him I saw, who fell

  In a short moment all fulfils, which he

  By Ghino’s cruel arm; and him beside,

  Who sojourns here, in right should satisfy.

  Who in his chase was swallow’d by the stream.

  Besides, when I this point concluded thus,

  Here Frederic Novello, with his hand

  By praying no defect could be supplied;

  Stretch’d forth, entreated; and of Pisa he,

  Because the pray’r had none access to God.

  Who put the good Marzuco to such proof

  Yet in this deep suspicion rest thou not

  Of constancy. Count Orso I beheld;

  Contented unless she assure thee so,

  And from its frame a soul dismiss’d for spite

  Who betwixt truth and mind infuses light.

  And envy, as it said, but for no crime:

  I know not if thou take me right; I mean

  I speak of Peter de la Brosse; and here,

  Beatrice. Her thou shalt behold above,

  While she yet lives, that Lady of Brabant

  Upon this mountain’s crown, fair seat of joy.”

  Let her beware; lest for so false a deed

  Then I: “Sir! let us mend our speed; for now She herd with worse than these. When I was freed

  I tire not as before; and lo! the hill

  From all those spirits, who pray’d for others’ prayers Stretches its shadow far.” He answer’d thus:

  To hasten on their state of blessedness;

  “Our progress with this day shall be as much

  Straight I began: “O thou, my luminary!

  As we may now dispatch; but otherwise

  It seems expressly in thy text denied,

  Than thou supposest is the truth. For there

  That heaven’s supreme decree can never bend

  Thou canst not be, ere thou once more behold

  To supplication; yet with this design

  Him back returning, who behind the steep

  Do these entreat. Can then their hope be vain,

  Is now so hidden, that as erst his beam

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Thou dost not break. But lo! a spirit there

  Malicious gnaws another, ay of those

  Stands solitary, and toward us looks:

  Whom the same wall and the same moat contains,

  It will instruct us in the speediest way.”

  Seek, wretched one! around thy sea-coasts wide;

  We soon approach’d it. O thou Lombard spirit!

  Then homeward to thy bosom turn, and mark

  How didst thou stand, in high abstracted mood,

  If any part of the sweet peace enjoy.

  Scarce moving with slow dignity thine eyes!

  What boots it, that thy reins Justinian’s hand

  It spoke not aught, but let us onward pass,

  Befitted, if thy saddle be unpress’d?

  Eyeing us as a lion on his watch.

  Nought doth he now but aggravate thy shame.

  I3ut Virgil with entreaty mild advanc’d,

  Ah people! thou obedient still shouldst live,

  Requesting it to show the best ascent.

  And in the saddle let thy Caesar sit,

  It answer to his question none return’d,

  If well thou marked’st that which God commands

  But of our country and our kind of life

  Look how that beast to felness hath relaps’d

  Demanded. When my courteous guide began,

  From having lost correction of the spur,

  “Mantua,” the solitary shadow quick

  Since to the bridle thou hast set thine hand,

  Rose towards us from the place in which it stood,

  O German Albert! who abandon’st her,

  And cry’d, “Mantuan! I am thy countryman

  That is grown savage and unmanageable,

  Sordello.” Each the other then embrac’d.

  When thou should’st clasp her flanks with forked heels.

  Ah slavish Italy! thou inn of grief,

  Just judgment from the stars fall on thy blood!

  Vessel without a pilot in loud storm,

  And be it strange and manifest to all!

  Lady no longer of fair provinces,

  Such as may strike thy successor with dread!

  But brothel-house impure! this gentle spirit,

  For that thy sire and thou have suffer’d thus,

&nb
sp; Ev’n from the Pleasant sound of his dear land

  Through greediness of yonder realms detain’d,

  Was prompt to greet a fellow citizen

  The garden of the empire to run waste.

  With such glad cheer; while now thy living ones

  Come see the Capulets and Montagues,

  In thee abide not without war; and one

  The Philippeschi and Monaldi! man

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Who car’st for nought! those sunk in grief, and these Or ere it dart unto its aim: but shine

  With dire suspicion rack’d. Come, cruel one!

  Have it on their lip’s edge. Many refuse

  Come and behold the’ oppression of the nobles,

  To bear the common burdens: readier thine

  And mark their injuries: and thou mayst see.

  Answer uneall’d, and cry, “Behold I stoop!”

  What safety Santafiore can supply.

  Make thyself glad, for thou hast reason now,

  Come and behold thy Rome, who calls on thee,

  Thou wealthy! thou at peace! thou wisdom-fraught!

  Desolate widow! day and night with moans:

  Facts best witness if I speak the truth.

  “My Caesar, why dost thou desert my side?”

  Athens and Lacedaemon, who of old

  Come and behold what love among thy people:

  Enacted laws, for civil arts renown’d,

  And if no pity touches thee for us,

  Made little progress in improving life

  Come and blush for thine own report. For me,

  Tow’rds thee, who usest such nice subtlety,

  If it be lawful, O Almighty Power,

  That to the middle of November scarce

  Who wast in earth for our sakes crucified!

  Reaches the thread thou in October weav’st.

  Are thy just eyes turn’d elsewhere? or is this

  How many times, within thy memory,

  A preparation in the wond’rous depth

  Customs, and laws, and coins, and offices

  Of thy sage counsel made, for some good end,

  Have been by thee renew’d, and people chang’d!

  Entirely from our reach of thought cut off?

  If thou remember’st well and can’st see clear, So are the’ Italian cities all o’erthrong’d

  Thou wilt perceive thyself like a sick wretch,

  With tyrants, and a great Marcellus made

  Who finds no rest upon her down, hut oft

  Of every petty factious villager.

  Shifting her side, short respite seeks from pain.

  My Florence! thou mayst well remain unmov’d

  At this digression, which affects not thee:

  CANTO VII

  Thanks to thy people, who so wisely speed.

  After their courteous greetings joyfully

  Many have justice in their heart, that long

  Sev’n times exchang’d, Sordello backward drew

  Waiteth for counsel to direct the bow,

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Exclaiming, “Who are ye?” “Before this mount

  There I with little innocents abide,

  By spirits worthy of ascent to God

  Who by death’s fangs were bitten, ere exempt

  Was sought, my bones had by Octavius’ care

  From human taint. There I with those abide,

  Been buried. I am Virgil, for no sin

  Who the three holy virtues put not on,

  Depriv’d of heav’n, except for lack of faith.”

  But understood the rest, and without blame

  So answer’d him in few my gentle guide.

  Follow’d them all. But if thou know’st and canst,

  As one, who aught before him suddenly

  Direct us, how we soonest may arrive,

  Beholding, whence his wonder riseth, cries

  Where Purgatory its true beginning takes.”

  “It is yet is not,” wav’ring in belief;

  He answer’d thus: “We have no certain place

  Such he appear’d; then downward bent his eyes,

  Assign’d us: upwards I may go or round,

  And drawing near with reverential step,

  Far as I can, I join thee for thy guide.

  Caught him, where of mean estate might clasp

  But thou beholdest now how day declines:

  His lord. “Glory of Latium!” he exclaim’d,

  And upwards to proceed by night, our power

  “In whom our tongue its utmost power display’d!

  Excels: therefore it may be well to choose

  Boast of my honor’d birth-place! what desert

  A place of pleasant sojourn. To the right

  Of mine, what favour rather undeserv’d,

  Some spirits sit apart retir’d. If thou

  Shows thee to me? If I to hear that voice

  Consentest, I to these will lead thy steps:

  Am worthy, say if from below thou com’st

  And thou wilt know them, not without delight.”

  And from what cloister’s pale?”—”Through every orb

  “How chances this?” was answer’d; “who so wish’d Of that sad region,” he reply’d, “thus far

  To ascend by night, would he be thence debarr’d

  Am I arriv’d, by heav’nly influence led

  By other, or through his own weakness fail?”

  And with such aid I come. There is a place

  The good Sordello then, along the ground

  There underneath, not made by torments sad,

  Trailing his finger, spoke: “Only this line

  But by dun shades alone; where mourning’s voice

  Thou shalt not overpass, soon as the sun

  Sounds not of anguish sharp, but breathes in sighs.

  Hath disappear’d; not that aught else impedes

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Thy going upwards, save the shades of night.

  A rare and undistinguish’d fragrance made.

  These with the wont of power perplex the will.

  “Salve Regina,” on the grass and flowers

  With them thou haply mightst return beneath,

  Here chanting I beheld those spirits sit

  Or to and fro around the mountain’s side

  Who not beyond the valley could be seen.

  Wander, while day is in the horizon shut.”

  “Before the west’ring sun sink to his bed,”

  My master straight, as wond’ring at his speech, Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn’d,

  Exclaim’d: “Then lead us quickly, where thou sayst,

  “‘Mid those desires not that I lead ye on.

  That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight.”

  For from this eminence ye shall discern

  A little space we were remov’d from thence,

  Better the acts and visages of all,

  When I perceiv’d the mountain hollow’d out.

  Than in the nether vale among them mix’d.

  Ev’n as large valleys hollow’d out on earth,

  He, who sits high above the rest, and seems

  “That way,” the’ escorting spirit cried, “we go, To have neglected that he should have done,

  Where in a bosom the high bank recedes:

  And to the others’ song moves not his lip,

  And thou await renewal of the day.”

  The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal’d

  Betwixt the steep and plain a crooked path

  The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,

  Led us traverse into the ridge’s side,

  So that by others she revives but slowly,

  Where more than half the sloping edge expires.

  He, who with kindly visage comforts him,

  Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refin’d,

  Sway’d in
that country, where the water springs,

  And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood

  That Moldaw’s river to the Elbe, and Elbe

  Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds

  Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar his name:

  But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers

  Who in his swaddling clothes was of more worth

  Plac’d in that fair recess, in color all

  Than Winceslaus his son, a bearded man,

  Had been surpass’d, as great surpasses less.

  Pamper’d with rank luxuriousness and ease.

  Nor nature only there lavish’d her hues,

  And that one with the nose depress, who close

  But of the sweetness of a thousand smells

  In counsel seems with him of gentle look,

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Flying expir’d, with’ring the lily’s flower.

  “Behold the king of simple life and plain,

  Look there how he doth knock against his breast!

  Harry of England, sitting there alone:

  The other ye behold, who for his cheek

  He through his branches better issue spreads.

  Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent sighs.

  “That one, who on the ground beneath the rest

  They are the father and the father-in-law

  Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft,

  Of Gallia’s bane: his vicious life they know

  Us William, that brave Marquis, for whose cause

  And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus.

  The deed of Alexandria and his war

  “He, so robust of limb, who measure keeps

  Makes Conferrat and Canavese weep.”

  In song, with him of feature prominent,

  With ev’ry virtue bore his girdle brac’d.

  CANTO VIII

  And if that stripling who behinds him sits,

  Now was the hour that wakens fond desire

  King after him had liv’d, his virtue then

  In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart,

  From vessel to like vessel had been pour’d;

  Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,

  Which may not of the other heirs be said.

  And pilgrim newly on his road with love

  By James and Frederick his realms are held;

  Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far,

  Neither the better heritage obtains.

  That seems to mourn for the expiring day:

  Rarely into the branches of the tree

  When I, no longer taking heed to hear