Divine Comedy, Longfellow's Translation, Complete · Dante Alighieri
PURGATORIO
First it wills well; but the desire permits not, Which divine justice with the self-same will There was to sin, upon the torment sets. And I, who have been lying in this pain Five hundred years and more, but just now felt A free volition for a better seat. Therefore thou heardst the earthquake, and the pious Spirits along the mountain rendering praise Unto the Lord, that soon he speed them upwards.” So said he to him; and since we enjoy As much in drinking as the thirst is great, I could not say how much it did me good. And the wise Leader: “Now I see the net That snares you here, and how ye are set free, Why the earth quakes, and wherefore ye rejoice. Now who thou wast be pleased that I may know; And why so many centuries thou hast here Been lying, let me gather from thy words.” “In days when the good Titus, with the aid Of the supremest King, avenged the wounds Whence issued forth the blood by Judas sold, Under the name that most endures and honours, Was I on earth,” that spirit made reply, “Greatly renowned, but not with faith as yet. My vocal spirit was so sweet, that Rome Me, a Thoulousian, drew unto herself, Where I deserved to deck my brows with myrtle.
Statius the people name me still on earth; I sang of Thebes, and then of great Achilles; But on the way fell with my second burden. The seeds unto my ardour were the sparks Of that celestial flame which heated me, Whereby more than a thousand have been fired; Of the Aeneid speak I, which to me A mother was, and was my nurse in song; Without this weighed I not a drachma’s weight. And to have lived upon the earth what time Virgilius lived, I would accept one sun More than I must ere issuing from my ban.” These words towards me made Virgilius turn With looks that in their silence said, “Be silent!” But yet the power that wills cannot do all things; For tears and laughter are such pursuivants Unto the passion from which each springs forth, In the most truthful least the will they follow. I only smiled, as one who gives the wink; Whereat the shade was silent, and it gazed Into mine eyes, where most expression dwells; And, “As thou well mayst consummate a labour So great,” it said, “why did thy face just now Display to me the lightning of a smile?” Now am I caught on this side and on that; One keeps me silent, one to speak conjures me, Wherefore I sigh, and I am understood.
When thou didst say: ‘The age renews itself, Justice returns, and man’s primeval time, And a new progeny descends from heaven.’ Through thee I Poet was, through thee a Christian; But that thou better see what I design, To colour it will I extend my hand. Already was the world in every part Pregnant with the true creed, disseminated By messengers of the eternal kingdom; And thy assertion, spoken of above, With the new preachers was in unison; Whence I to visit them the custom took. Then they became so holy in my sight, That, when Domitian persecuted them, Not without tears of mine were their laments; And all the while that I on earth remained, Them I befriended, and their upright customs Made me disparage all the other sects. And ere I led the Greeks unto the rivers Of Thebes, in poetry, I was baptized, But out of fear was covertly a Christian, For a long time professing paganism; And this lukewarmness caused me the fourth circle To circuit round more than four centuries. Thou, therefore, who hast raised the covering That hid from me whatever good I speak of, While in ascending we have time to spare, Tell me, in what place is our friend Terentius, Caecilius, Plautus, Varro, if thou knowest; Tell me if they are damned, and in what alley.”
“These, Persius and myself, and others many,” Replied my Leader, “with that Grecian are Whom more than all the rest the Muses suckled, In the first circle of the prison blind; Ofttimes we of the mountain hold discourse Which has our nurses ever with itself. Euripides is with us, Antiphon, Simonides, Agatho, and many other Greeks who of old their brows with laurel decked. There some of thine own people may be seen, Antigone, Deiphile and Argia, And there Ismene mournful as of old. There she is seen who pointed out Langia; There is Tiresias’ daughter, and there Thetis, And there Deidamia with her sisters.” Silent already were the poets both, Attent once more in looking round about, From the ascent and from the walls released; And four handmaidens of the day already Were left behind, and at the pole the fifth Was pointing upward still its burning horn, What time my Guide: “I think that tow’rds the edge Our dexter shoulders it behoves us turn, Circling the mount as we are wont to do.” Thus in that region custom was our ensign; And we resumed our way with less suspicion For the assenting of that worthy soul They in advance went on, and I alone Behind them, and I listened to their speech, Which gave me lessons in the art of song.
But soon their sweet discourses interrupted A tree which midway in the road we found, With apples sweet and grateful to the smell. And even as a fir-tree tapers upward From bough to bough, so downwardly did that; I think in order that no one might climb it. On that side where our pathway was enclosed Fell from the lofty rock a limpid water, And spread itself abroad upon the leaves. The Poets twain unto the tree drew near, And from among the foliage a voice Cried: “Of this food ye shall have scarcity.” Then said: “More thoughtful Mary was of making The marriage feast complete and honourable, Than of her mouth which now for you responds; And for their drink the ancient Roman women With water were content; and Daniel Disparaged food, and understanding won. The primal age was beautiful as gold; Acorns it made with hunger savorous, And nectar every rivulet with thirst. Honey and locusts were the aliments That fed the Baptist in the wilderness; Whence he is glorious, and so magnified As by the Evangel is revealed to you.” Purgatorio: Canto XXIII The while among the verdant leaves mine eyes I riveted, as he is wont to do Who wastes his life pursuing little birds, My more than Father said unto me: “Son, Come now; because the time that is ordained us More usefully should be apportioned out.”
I turned my face and no less soon my steps Unto the Sages, who were speaking so They made the going of no cost to me; And lo! were heard a song and a lament, “Labia mea, Domine,” in fashion Such that delight and dolence it brought forth. “O my sweet Father, what is this I hear?” Began I; and he answered: “Shades that go Perhaps the knot unloosing of their debt.” In the same way that thoughtful pilgrims do, Who, unknown people on the road o’ertaking, Turn themselves round to them, and do not stop, Even thus, behind us with a swifter motion Coming and passing onward, gazed upon us A crowd of spirits silent and devout. Each in his eyes was dark and cavernous, Pallid in face, and so emaciate That from the bones the skin did shape itself. I do not think that so to merest rind Could Erisichthon have been withered up By famine, when most fear he had of it. Thinking within myself I said: “Behold, This is the folk who lost Jerusalem, When Mary made a prey of her own son.” Their sockets were like rings without the gems; Whoever in the face of men reads ‘omo’ Might well in these have recognised the ‘m.’ Who would believe the odour of an apple, Begetting longing, could consume them so, And that of water, without knowing how?
I still was wondering what so famished them, For the occasion not yet manifest Of their emaciation and sad squalor; And lo! from out the hollow of his head His eyes a shade turned on me, and looked keenly; Then cried aloud: “What grace to me is this?” Never should I have known him by his look; But in his voice was evident to me That which his aspect had suppressed within it. This spark within me wholly re-enkindled My recognition of his altered face, And I recalled the features of Forese. “Ah, do not look at this dry leprosy,” Entreated he, “which doth my skin discolour, Nor at default of flesh that I may have; But tell me truth of thee, and who are those Two souls, that yonder make for thee an escort; Do not delay in speaking unto me.” “That face of thine, which dead I once bewept, Gives me for weeping now no lesser grief,” I answered him, “beholding it so changed! But tell me, for God’s sake, what thus denudes you? Make me not speak while I am marvelling, For ill speaks he who’s full of other longings.” And he to me: “From the eternal council Falls power into the water and the tree Behind us left, whereby I grow so thin. All of this people who lamenting sing, For following beyond measure appetite In hunger and thirst are here re-sanctified.
For the Barbagia of Sardinia By far more modest in its women is Than the Barbagia I have left her in. O brother sweet, what wilt thou have me say? A future time is in my sight already, To which this hour will not be very old, When from the pulpit shall be interdicted To the unblushing womankind of Florence To go about displaying breast and paps. What savages were e’er, what Saracens, Who stood in need, to make them covered go, Of spiritual or other discipline? But if the shameless women were assured Of what swift Heaven prepares for them, already Wide open would they have their mouths to howl; For if my foresight here deceive me not, They shall be sad ere he has bearded cheeks Who now is hushed to sleep with lullaby. O brother, now no longer hide thee from me; See that not only I, but all these people Are gazing there, where thou dost veil the sun.” Whence I to him: “If thou bring back to mind What thou with me hast been and I with thee, The present memory will be grievous still. Out of that life he turned me back who goes In front of me, two days agone when round The sister of him yonder showed herself,” And to the sun I pointed. “Through the deep Night of the truly dead has this one led me, With this true flesh, that follows after him.
Thence his encouragements have led me up, Ascending and still circling round the mount That you doth straighten, whom the world made crooked. He says that he will bear me company, Till I shall be where Beatrice will be; There it behoves me to remain without him. This is Virgilius, who thus says to me,” And him I pointed at; “the other is That shade for whom just now shook every slope Your realm, that from itself discharges him.” Purgatorio: Canto XXIV Nor speech the going, nor the going that Slackened; but talking we went bravely on, Even as a vessel urged by a good wind. And shadows, that appeared things doubly dead, From out the sepulchres of their eyes betrayed Wonder at me, aware that I was living. And I, continuing my colloquy, Said: “Peradventure he goes up more slowly Than he would do, for other people’s sake. But tell me, if thou knowest, where is Piccarda; Tell me if any one of note I see Among this folk that gazes at me so.” “My sister, who, ’twixt beautiful and good, I know not which was more, triumphs rejoicing Already in her crown on high Olympus.” So said he first, and then: “’Tis not forbidden To name each other here, so milked away Is our resemblance by our dieting.
This,” pointing with his finger, “is Buonagiunta, Buonagiunta, of Lucca; and that face Beyond him there, more peaked than the others, Has held the holy Church within his arms; From Tours was he, and purges by his fasting Bolsena’s eels and the Vernaccia wine.” He named me many others one by one; And all contented seemed at being named, So that for this I saw not one dark look. I saw for hunger bite the empty air Ubaldin dalla Pila, and Boniface, Who with his crook had pastured many people. I saw Messer Marchese, who had leisure Once at Forli for drinking with less dryness, And he was one who ne’er felt satisfied. But as he does who scans, and then doth prize One more than others, did I him of Lucca, Who seemed to take most cognizance of me. He murmured, and I know not what Gentucca From that place heard I, where he felt the wound Of justice, that doth macerate them so. “O soul,” I said, “that seemest so desirous To speak with me, do so that I may hear thee, And with thy speech appease thyself and me.” “A maid is born, and wears not yet the veil,” Began he, “who to thee shall pleasant make My city, howsoever men may blame it. Thou shalt go on thy way with this prevision; If by my murmuring thou hast been deceived, True things hereafter will declare it to thee.
The primal Motor turns to it well pleased At so great art of nature, and inspires A spirit new with virtue all replete, Which what it finds there active doth attract Into its substance, and becomes one soul, Which lives, and feels, and on itself revolves. And that thou less may wonder at my word, Behold the sun’s heat, which becometh wine, Joined to the juice that from the vine distils. Whenever Lachesis has no more thread, It separates from the flesh, and virtually Bears with itself the human and divine; The other faculties are voiceless all; The memory, the intelligence, and the will In action far more vigorous than before. Without a pause it falleth of itself In marvellous way on one shore or the other; There of its roads it first is cognizant. Soon as the place there circumscribeth it, The virtue informative rays round about, As, and as much as, in the living members. And even as the air, when full of rain, By alien rays that are therein reflected, With divers colours shows itself adorned, So there the neighbouring air doth shape itself Into that form which doth impress upon it Virtually the soul that has stood still. And then in manner of the little flame, Which followeth the fire where’er it shifts, After the spirit followeth its new form.
Since afterwards it takes from this its semblance, It is called shade; and thence it organizes Thereafter every sense, even to the sight. Thence is it that we speak, and thence we laugh; Thence is it that we form the tears and sighs, That on the mountain thou mayhap hast heard. According as impress us our desires And other affections, so the shade is shaped, And this is cause of what thou wonderest at.” And now unto the last of all the circles Had we arrived, and to the right hand turned, And were attentive to another care. There the embankment shoots forth flames of fire, And upward doth the cornice breathe a blast That drives them back, and from itself sequesters. Hence we must needs go on the open side, And one by one; and I did fear the fire On this side, and on that the falling down. My Leader said: “Along this place one ought To keep upon the eyes a tightened rein, Seeing that one so easily might err.” “Summae Deus clementiae,” in the bosom Of the great burning chanted then I heard, Which made me no less eager to turn round; And spirits saw I walking through the flame; Wherefore I looked, to my own steps and theirs Apportioning my sight from time to time.
After the close which to that hymn is made, Aloud they shouted, “Virum non cognosco;” Then recommenced the hymn with voices low. This also ended, cried they: “To the wood Diana ran, and drove forth Helice Therefrom, who had of Venus felt the poison.” Then to their song returned they; then the wives They shouted, and the husbands who were chaste. As virtue and the marriage vow imposes. And I believe that them this mode suffices, For all the time the fire is burning them; With such care is it needful, and such food, That the last wound of all should be closed up. Purgatorio: Canto XXVI While on the brink thus one before the other We went upon our way, oft the good Master Said: “Take thou heed! suffice it that I warn thee.” On the right shoulder smote me now the sun, That, raying out, already the whole west Changed from its azure aspect into white. And with my shadow did I make the flame Appear more red; and even to such a sign Shades saw I many, as they went, give heed. This was the cause that gave them a beginning To speak of me; and to themselves began they To say: “That seems not a factitious body!” Then towards me, as far as they could come, Came certain of them, always with regard Not to step forth where they would not be burned.
One folk is going, and the other coming, And weeping they return to their first songs, And to the cry that most befitteth them; And close to me approached, even as before, The very same who had entreated me, Attent to listen in their countenance. I, who their inclination twice had seen, Began: “O souls secure in the possession, Whene’er it may be, of a state of peace, Neither unripe nor ripened have remained My members upon earth, but here are with me With their own blood and their articulations. I go up here to be no longer blind; A Lady is above, who wins this grace, Whereby the mortal through your world I bring. But as your greatest longing satisfied May soon become, so that the Heaven may house you Which full of love is, and most amply spreads, Tell me, that I again in books may write it, Who are you, and what is that multitude Which goes upon its way behind your backs?” Not otherwise with wonder is bewildered The mountaineer, and staring round is dumb, When rough and rustic to the town he goes, Than every shade became in its appearance; But when they of their stupor were disburdened, Which in high hearts is quickly quieted, “Blessed be thou, who of our border-lands,” He recommenced who first had questioned us, “Experience freightest for a better life.
The folk that comes not with us have offended In that for which once Caesar, triumphing, Heard himself called in contumely, ‘Queen.’ Therefore they separate, exclaiming, ‘Sodom!’ Themselves reproving, even as thou hast heard, And add unto their burning by their shame. Our own transgression was hermaphrodite; But because we observed not human law, Following like unto beasts our appetite, In our opprobrium by us is read, When we part company, the name of her Who bestialized herself in bestial wood. Now knowest thou our acts, and what our crime was; Wouldst thou perchance by name know who we are, There is not time to tell, nor could I do it. Thy wish to know me shall in sooth be granted; I’m Guido Guinicelli, and now purge me, Having repented ere the hour extreme.” The same that in the sadness of Lycurgus Two sons became, their mother re-beholding, Such I became, but rise not to such height, The moment I heard name himself the father Of me and of my betters, who had ever Practised the sweet and gracious rhymes of love; And without speech and hearing thoughtfully For a long time I went, beholding him, Nor for the fire did I approach him nearer. When I was fed with looking, utterly Myself I offered ready for his service, With affirmation that compels belief.
And he to me: “Thou leavest footprints such In me, from what I hear, and so distinct, Lethe cannot efface them, nor make dim. But if thy words just now the truth have sworn, Tell me what is the cause why thou displayest In word and look that dear thou holdest me?” And I to him: “Those dulcet lays of yours Which, long as shall endure our modern fashion, Shall make for ever dear their very ink!” “O brother,” said he, “he whom I point out,” And here he pointed at a spirit in front, “Was of the mother tongue a better smith. Verses of love and proses of romance, He mastered all; and let the idiots talk, Who think the Lemosin surpasses him. To clamour more than truth they turn their faces, And in this way establish their opinion, Ere art or reason has by them been heard. Thus many ancients with Guittone did, From cry to cry still giving him applause, Until the truth has conquered with most persons. Now, if thou hast such ample privilege ’Tis granted thee to go unto the cloister Wherein is Christ the abbot of the college, To him repeat for me a Paternoster, So far as needful to us of this world, Where power of sinning is no longer ours.” Then, to give place perchance to one behind, Whom he had near, he vanished in the fire As fish in water going to the bottom.
I moved a little tow’rds him pointed out, And said that to his name my own desire An honourable place was making ready. He of his own free will began to say: ‘Tan m’ abellis vostre cortes deman, Que jeu nom’ puesc ni vueill a vos cobrire; Jeu sui Arnaut, que plor e vai chantan; Consiros vei la passada folor, E vei jauzen lo jorn qu’ esper denan. Ara vus prec per aquella valor, Que vus condus al som de la scalina, Sovenga vus a temprar ma dolor.’* Then hid him in the fire that purifies them. * So pleases me your courteous demand, I cannot and I will not hide me from you. I am Arnaut, who weep and singing go; Contrite I see the folly of the past, And joyous see the hoped-for day before me. Therefore do I implore you, by that power Which guides you to the summit of the stairs, Be mindful to assuage my suffering! Purgatorio: Canto XXVII As when he vibrates forth his earliest rays, In regions where his Maker shed his blood, (The Ebro falling under lofty Libra, And waters in the Ganges burnt with noon,) So stood the Sun; hence was the day departing, When the glad Angel of God appeared to us. Outside the flame he stood upon the verge, And chanted forth, “Beati mundo corde,” In voice by far more living than our own.
Even thus, my obduracy being softened, I turned to my wise Guide, hearing the name That in my memory evermore is welling. Whereat he wagged his head, and said: “How now? Shall we stay on this side?” then smiled as one Does at a child who’s vanquished by an apple. Then into the fire in front of me he entered, Beseeching Statius to come after me, Who a long way before divided us. When I was in it, into molten glass I would have cast me to refresh myself, So without measure was the burning there! And my sweet Father, to encourage me, Discoursing still of Beatrice went on, Saying: “Her eyes I seem to see already!” A voice, that on the other side was singing, Directed us, and we, attent alone On that, came forth where the ascent began. “Venite, benedicti Patris mei,” Sounded within a splendour, which was there Such it o’ercame me, and I could not look. “The sun departs,” it added, “and night cometh; Tarry ye not, but onward urge your steps, So long as yet the west becomes not dark.” Straight forward through the rock the path ascended In such a way that I cut off the rays Before me of the sun, that now was low. And of few stairs we yet had made assay, Ere by the vanished shadow the sun’s setting Behind us we perceived, I and my Sages.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.