Purgatory

by Dante Alighieri

  I was a soul in misery, alienate

  Mature that blessed hour, when thou with God

  From God, and covetous of all earthly things;

  Shalt find acceptance, for a while suspend

  Now, as thou seest, here punish’d for my doting.

  For me that mightier care. Say who thou wast,

  Such cleansing from the taint of avarice

  Why thus ye grovel on your bellies prone,

  Do spirits converted need. This mount inflicts

  And if in aught ye wish my service there,

  No direr penalty. E’en as our eyes

  Whence living I am come.” He answering spake

  Fasten’d below, nor e’er to loftier clime

  “The cause why Heav’n our back toward his cope

  Were lifted, thus hath justice level’d us

  Reverses, shalt thou know: but me know first

  Here on the earth. As avarice quench’d our love

  The successor of Peter, and the name

  Of good, without which is no working, thus

  And title of my lineage from that stream,

  Here justice holds us prison’d, hand and foot

  That’ twixt Chiaveri and Siestri draws

  Chain’d down and bound, while heaven’s just Lord shall His limpid waters through the lowly glen.

  please.

  A month and little more by proof I learnt,

  So long to tarry motionless outstretch’d.”

  With what a weight that robe of sov’reignty

  My knees I stoop’d, and would have spoke; but he, Upon his shoulder rests, who from the mire

  Ere my beginning, by his ear perceiv’d

  Would guard it: that each other fardel seems

  I did him reverence; and “What cause,” said he,

  But feathers in the balance. Late, alas!

  “Hath bow’d thee thus!”—” Compunction,” I rejoin’d.

  Was my conversion: but when I became

  “And inward awe of your high dignity.”

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory

  “Up,” he exclaim’d, “brother! upon thy feet

  Wring out their all-infecting malady,

  Arise: err not: thy fellow servant I,

  Too closely press the verge. Accurst be thou!

  (Thine and all others’) of one Sovran Power.

  Inveterate wolf! whose gorge ingluts more prey,

  If thou hast ever mark’d those holy sounds

  Than every beast beside, yet is not fill’d!

  Of gospel truth, ‘nor shall be given ill marriage,’

  So bottomless thy maw!—Ye spheres of heaven!

  Thou mayst discern the reasons of my speech.

  To whom there are, as seems, who attribute

  Go thy ways now; and linger here no more.

  All change in mortal state, when is the day

  Thy tarrying is a let unto the tears,

  Of his appearing, for whom fate reserves

  With which I hasten that whereof thou spak’st.

  To chase her hence?—With wary steps and slow

  I have on earth a kinswoman; her name

  We pass’d; and I attentive to the shades,

  Alagia, worthy in herself, so ill

  Whom piteously I heard lament and wail;

  Example of our house corrupt her not:

  And, ‘midst the wailing, one before us heard

  And she is all remaineth of me there.”

  Cry out “O blessed Virgin!” as a dame

  In the sharp pangs of childbed; and “How poor

  CANTO XX

  Thou wast,” it added, “witness that low roof

  Where thou didst lay thy sacred burden down.

  Ill strives the will, ‘gainst will more wise that

  O good Fabricius! thou didst virtue choose

  strives

  With poverty, before great wealth with vice.”

  His pleasure therefore to mine own preferr’d,

  The words so pleas’d me, that desire to know

  I drew the sponge yet thirsty from the wave.

  The spirit, from whose lip they seem’d to come,

  Onward I mov’d: he also onward mov’d,

  Did draw me onward. Yet it spake the gift

  Who led me, coasting still, wherever place

  Of Nicholas, which on the maidens he

  Along the rock was vacant, as a man

  Bounteous bestow’d, to save their youthful prime

  Walks near the battlements on narrow wall.

  Unblemish’d. “Spirit! who dost speak of deeds

  For those on th’ other part, who drop by drop

  So worthy, tell me who thou was,” I said,

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory

  “And why thou dost with single voice renew

  Till the great dower of Provence had remov’d

  Memorial of such praise. That boon vouchsaf’d

  The stains, that yet obscur’d our lowly blood,

  Haply shall meet reward; if I return

  Its sway indeed was narrow, but howe’er

  To finish the Short pilgrimage of life,

  It wrought no evil: there, with force and lies,

  Still speeding to its close on restless wing.”

  Began its rapine; after, for amends,

  “I,” answer’d he, “will tell thee, not for hell, Poitou it seiz’d, Navarre and Gascony.

  Which thence I look for; but that in thyself

  To Italy came Charles, and for amends

  Grace so exceeding shines, before thy time

  Young Conradine an innocent victim slew,

  Of mortal dissolution. I was root

  And sent th’ angelic teacher back to heav’n,

  Of that ill plant, whose shade such poison sheds

  Still for amends. I see the time at hand,

  O’er all the Christian land, that seldom thence

  That forth from France invites another Charles

  Good fruit is gather’d. Vengeance soon should come, To make himself and kindred better known.

  Had Ghent and Douay, Lille and Bruges power;

  Unarm’d he issues, saving with that lance,

  And vengeance I of heav’n’s great Judge implore.

  Which the arch-traitor tilted with; and that

  Hugh Capet was I high: from me descend

  He carries with so home a thrust, as rives

  The Philips and the Louis, of whom France

  The bowels of poor Florence. No increase

  Newly is govern’d; born of one, who ply’d

  Of territory hence, but sin and shame

  The slaughterer’s trade at Paris. When the race

  Shall be his guerdon, and so much the more

  Of ancient kings had vanish’d (all save one

  As he more lightly deems of such foul wrong.

  Wrapt up in sable weeds) within my gripe

  I see the other, who a prisoner late

  I found the reins of empire, and such powers

  Had steps on shore, exposing to the mart

  Of new acquirement, with full store of friends,

  His daughter, whom he bargains for, as do

  That soon the widow’d circlet of the crown

  The Corsairs for their slaves. O avarice!

  Was girt upon the temples of my son,

  What canst thou more, who hast subdued our blood

  He, from whose bones th’ anointed race begins.

  So wholly to thyself, they feel no care

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Of their own flesh? To hide with direr guilt

  Sapphira with her husband next, we blame;

  Past ill and future, lo! the flower-de-luce

  And praise the forefeet, that with furious ramp

  Enters Alagna! in his Vicar Christ

  Spurn’d Heliodorus. All the mountain round

/>   Himself a captive, and his mockery

  Rings with the infamy of Thracia’s king,

  Acted again! Lo! to his holy lip

  Who slew his Phrygian charge: and last a shout

  The vinegar and gall once more applied!

  Ascends: “Declare, O Crassus! for thou know’st,

  And he ‘twixt living robbers doom’d to bleed!

  The flavour of thy gold.” The voice of each

  Lo! the new Pilate, of whose cruelty

  Now high now low, as each his impulse prompts,

  Such violence cannot fill the measure up,

  Is led through many a pitch, acute or grave.

  With no degree to sanction, pushes on

  Therefore, not singly, I erewhile rehears’d

  Into the temple his yet eager sails!

  That blessedness we tell of in the day:

  “O sovran Master! when shall I rejoice

  But near me none beside his accent rais’d.”

  To see the vengeance, which thy wrath well-pleas’d

  From him we now had parted, and essay’d

  In secret silence broods?—While daylight lasts,

  With utmost efforts to surmount the way,

  So long what thou didst hear of her, sole spouse

  When I did feel, as nodding to its fall,

  Of the Great Spirit, and on which thou turn’dst

  The mountain tremble; whence an icy chill

  To me for comment, is the general theme

  Seiz’d on me, as on one to death convey’d.

  Of all our prayers: but when it darkens, then

  So shook not Delos, when Latona there

  A different strain we utter, then record

  Couch’d to bring forth the twin-born eyes of heaven.

  Pygmalion, whom his gluttonous thirst of gold

  Forthwith from every side a shout arose

  Made traitor, robber, parricide: the woes

  So vehement, that suddenly my guide

  Of Midas, which his greedy wish ensued,

  Drew near, and cried: “Doubt not, while I conduct thee.”

  Mark’d for derision to all future times:

  “Glory!” all shouted (such the sounds mine ear

  And the fond Achan, how he stole the prey,

  Gather’d from those, who near me swell’d the sounds) That yet he seems by Joshua’s ire pursued.

  “Glory in the highest be to God.” We stood

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Immovably suspended, like to those,

  Saying, “God give you peace, my brethren!” then

  The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem’s field Sudden we turn’d: and Virgil such salute,

  That song: till ceas’d the trembling, and the song

  As fitted that kind greeting, gave, and cried:

  Was ended: then our hallow’d path resum’d,

  “Peace in the blessed council be thy lot

  Eying the prostrate shadows, who renew’d

  Awarded by that righteous court, which me

  Their custom’d mourning. Never in my breast

  To everlasting banishment exiles!”

  Did ignorance so struggle with desire

  “How!” he exclaim’d, nor from his speed mean while Of knowledge, if my memory do not err,

  Desisting, “If that ye be spirits, whom God

  As in that moment; nor through haste dar’d I

  Vouchsafes not room above, who up the height

  To question, nor myself could aught discern,

  Has been thus far your guide?” To whom the bard:

  So on I far’d in thoughtfulness and dread.

  “If thou observe the tokens, which this man

  Trac’d by the finger of the angel bears,

  CANTO XXI

  ‘Tis plain that in the kingdom of the just

  He needs must share. But sithence she, whose wheel

  The natural thirst, ne’er quench’d but from the well, Spins day and night, for him not yet had drawn

  Whereof the woman of Samaria crav’d,

  That yarn, which, on the fatal distaff pil’d,

  Excited: haste along the cumber’d path,

  Clotho apportions to each wight that breathes,

  After my guide, impell’d; and pity mov’d

  His soul, that sister is to mine and thine,

  My bosom for the ‘vengeful deed, though just.

  Not of herself could mount, for not like ours

  When lo! even as Luke relates, that Christ

  Her ken: whence I, from forth the ample gulf

  Appear’d unto the two upon their way,

  Of hell was ta’en, to lead him, and will lead

  New-risen from his vaulted grave; to us

  Far as my lore avails. But, if thou know,

  A shade appear’d, and after us approach’d,

  Instruct us for what cause, the mount erewhile

  Contemplating the crowd beneath its feet.

  Thus shook and trembled: wherefore all at once

  We were not ware of it; so first it spake,

  Seem’d shouting, even from his wave-wash’d foot.”

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  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory That questioning so tallied with my wish,

  Seizes the soul rejoicing in her will.

  The thirst did feel abatement of its edge

  Desire of bliss is present from the first;

  E’en from expectance. He forthwith replied,

  But strong propension hinders, to that wish

  “In its devotion nought irregular

  By the just ordinance of heav’n oppos’d;

  This mount can witness, or by punctual rule

  Propension now as eager to fulfil

  Unsanction’d; here from every change exempt.

  Th’ allotted torment, as erewhile to sin.

  Other than that, which heaven in itself

  And I who in this punishment had lain

  Doth of itself receive, no influence

  Five hundred years and more, but now have felt

  Can reach us. Tempest none, shower, hail or snow,

  Free wish for happier clime. Therefore thou felt’st Hoar frost or dewy moistness, higher falls

  The mountain tremble, and the spirits devout

  Than that brief scale of threefold steps: thick clouds Heard’st, over all his limits, utter praise

  Nor scudding rack are ever seen: swift glance

  To that liege Lord, whom I entreat their joy

  Ne’er lightens, nor Thaumantian Iris gleams,

  To hasten.” Thus he spake: and since the draught

  That yonder often shift on each side heav’n.

  Is grateful ever as the thirst is keen,

  Vapour adust doth never mount above

  No words may speak my fullness of content.

  The highest of the trinal stairs, whereon

  “Now,” said the instructor sage, “I see the net Peter’s vicegerent stands. Lower perchance,

  That takes ye here, and how the toils are loos’d,

  With various motion rock’d, trembles the soil:

  Why rocks the mountain and why ye rejoice.

  But here, through wind in earth’s deep hollow pent, Vouchsafe, that from thy lips I next may learn,

  I know not how, yet never trembled: then

  Who on the earth thou wast, and wherefore here

  Trembles, when any spirit feels itself

  So many an age wert prostrate.”—”In that time,

  So purified, that it may rise, or move

  When the good Titus, with Heav’n’s King to help,

  For rising, and such loud acclaim ensues.

  Aveng’d those piteous gashes, whence the blood

  Purification by the will alone

  By Judas sold did issue, with the name

  Is prov’d, that free to change society

  Most lasting and most honour’d there was I

/>   61

  The Divine Comedy of Dante - Purgatory Abundantly renown’d,” the shade reply’d,

  As one who winks; and thereupon the shade

  “Not yet with faith endued. So passing sweet

  Broke off, and peer’d into mine eyes, where best

  My vocal Spirit, from Tolosa, Rome

  Our looks interpret. “So to good event

  To herself drew me, where I merited

  Mayst thou conduct such great emprize,” he cried,

  A myrtle garland to inwreathe my brow.

  “Say, why across thy visage beam’d, but now,

  Statius they name me still. Of Thebes I sang,

  The lightning of a smile!” On either part

  And next of great Achilles: but i’ th’ way

  Now am I straiten’d; one conjures me speak,

  Fell with the second burthen. Of my flame

  Th’ other to silence binds me: whence a sigh

  Those sparkles were the seeds, which I deriv’d

  I utter, and the sigh is heard. “Speak on; “

  From the bright fountain of celestial fire

  The teacher cried; “and do not fear to speak,

  That feeds unnumber’d lamps, the song I mean

  But tell him what so earnestly he asks.”

  Which sounds Aeneas’ wand’rings: that the breast

  Whereon I thus: “Perchance, O ancient spirit!

  I hung at, that the nurse, from whom my veins

  Thou marvel’st at my smiling. There is room

  Drank inspiration: whose authority

  For yet more wonder. He who guides my ken

  Was ever sacred with me. To have liv’d

  On high, he is that Mantuan, led by whom

  Coeval with the Mantuan, I would bide

  Thou didst presume of men arid gods to sing.

  The revolution of another sun

  If other cause thou deem’dst for which I smil’d,

  Beyond my stated years in banishment.”

  Leave it as not the true one; and believe

  The Mantuan, when he heard him, turn’d to me,

  Those words, thou spak’st of him, indeed the cause.”

  And holding silence: by his countenance

  Now down he bent t’ embrace my teacher’s feet; Enjoin’d me silence but the power which wills,

  But he forbade him: “Brother! do it not:

  Bears not supreme control: laughter and tears

  Thou art a shadow, and behold’st a shade.”

  Follow so closely on the passion prompts them,

  He rising answer’d thus: “Now hast thou prov’d

  They wait not for the motions of the will

  The force and ardour of the love I bear thee,