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twg_000000043500 | was at my side, And now the sun was more than two hours high, And turned towards the sea-shore was my face. Be not intimidated, said my Lord, Be reassured, for all is well with us; Do not restrain, but put forth all thy strength. Thou hast at length arrived at Purgatory; See there the cliff that closes it around; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043501 | See there the entrance, where it seems disjoined. Whilom at dawn, which doth precede the day, When inwardly thy spirit was asleep Upon the flowers that deck the land below, There came a Lady and said: I am Lucia; Let me take this one up, who is asleep; So will I make his journey easier for him. Sordello and the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043502 | other noble shapes Remained; she took thee, and, as day grew bright, Upward she came, and I upon her footsteps. She laid thee here; and first her beauteous eyes That open entrance pointed out to me; Then she and sleep together went away. In guise of one whose doubts are reassured, And who to confidence his fear doth change, After | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043503 | the truth has been discovered to him, So did I change; and when without disquiet My Leader saw me, up along the cliff He moved, and I behind him, towrd the height. Reader, thou seest well how I exalt My theme, and therefore if with greater art I fortify it, marvel not thereat. Nearer approached we, and were in such | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043504 | place, That there, where first appeared to me a rift Like to a crevice that disparts a wall, I saw a portal, and three stairs beneath, Diverse in colour, to go up to it, And a gate-keeper, who yet spake no word. And as I opened more and more mine eyes, I saw him seated on the highest stair, Such | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043505 | in the face that I endured it not. And in his hand he had a naked sword, Which so reflected back the sunbeams towrds us, That oft in vain I lifted up mine eyes. Tell it from where you are, what ist you wish? Began he to exclaim; where is the escort? Take heed your coming hither harm you not! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043506 | A Lady of Heaven, with these things conversant, My Master answered him, but even now Said to us, Thither go; there is the portal. And may she speed your footsteps in all good, Again began the courteous janitor; Come forward then unto these stairs of ours. Thither did we approach; and the first stair Was marble white, so polished and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043507 | so smooth, I mirrored myself therein as I appear. The second, tinct of deeper hue than perse, Was of a calcined and uneven stone, Cracked all asunder lengthwise and across. The third, that uppermost rests massively, Porphyry seemed to me, as flaming red As blood that from a vein is spirting forth. Both of his feet was holding upon this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043508 | The Angel of God, upon the threshold seated, Which seemed to me a stone of diamond. Along the three stairs upward with good will Did my Conductor draw me, saying: Ask Humbly that he the fastening may undo. Devoutly at the holy feet I cast me, For mercys sake besought that he would open, But first upon my breast three | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043509 | times I smote. Seven Ps upon my forehead he described With the swords point, and, Take heed that thou wash These wounds, when thou shalt be within, he said. Ashes, or earth that dry is excavated, Of the same colour were with his attire, And from beneath it he drew forth two keys. One was of gold, and the other | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043510 | was of silver; First with the white, and after with the yellow, Plied he the door, so that I was content. Whenever faileth either of these keys So that it turn not rightly in the lock, He said to us, this entrance doth not open. More precious one is, but the other needs More art and intellect ere it unlock, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043511 | For it is that which doth the knot unloose. From Peter I have them; and he bade me err Rather in opening than in keeping shut, If people but fall down before my feet. Then pushed the portals of the sacred door, Exclaiming: Enter; but I give you warning That forth returns whoever looks behind. And when upon their hinges | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043512 | were turned round The swivels of that consecrated gate, Which are of metal, massive and sonorous, Roared not so loud, nor so discordant seemed Tarpeia, when was taen from it the good Metellus, wherefore meagre it remained. At the first thunder-peal I turned attentive, And Te Deum laudamus seemed to hear In voices mingled with sweet melody. Exactly such an | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043513 | image rendered me That which I heard, as we are wont to catch, When people singing with the organ stand; For now we hear, and now hear not, the words. Purgatorio: Canto X When we had crossed the threshold of the door Which the perverted love of souls disuses, Because it makes the crooked way seem straight, Re-echoing I heard | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043514 | it closed again; And if I had turned back mine eyes upon it, What for my failing had been fit excuse? We mounted upward through a rifted rock, Which undulated to this side and that, Even as a wave receding and advancing. Here it behoves us use a little art, Began my Leader, to adapt ourselves Now here, now there, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043515 | to the receding side. And this our footsteps so infrequent made, That sooner had the moons decreasing disk Regained its bed to sink again to rest, Than we were forth from out that needles eye; But when we free and in the open were, There where the mountain backward piles itself, I wearied out, and both of us uncertain About | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043516 | our way, we stopped upon a plain More desolate than roads across the deserts. From where its margin borders on the void, To foot of the high bank that ever rises, A human body three times told would measure; And far as eye of mine could wing its flight, Now on the left, and on the right flank now, The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043517 | same this cornice did appear to me. Thereon our feet had not been moved as yet, When I perceived the embankment round about, Which all right of ascent had interdicted, To be of marble white, and so adorned With sculptures, that not only Polycletus, But Natures self, had there been put to shame. The Angel, who came down to earth | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043518 | with tidings Of peace, that had been wept for many a year, And opened Heaven from its long interdict, In front of us appeared so truthfully There sculptured in a gracious attitude, He did not seem an image that is silent. One would have sworn that he was saying, Ave; For she was there in effigy portrayed Who turned the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043519 | key to ope the exalted love, And in her mien this language had impressed, Ecce ancilla Dei, as distinctly As any figure stamps itself in wax. Keep not thy mind upon one place alone, The gentle Master said, who had me standing Upon that side where people have their hearts; Whereat I moved mine eyes, and I beheld In rear | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043520 | of Mary, and upon that side Where he was standing who conducted me, Another story on the rock imposed; Wherefore I passed Virgilius and drew near, So that before mine eyes it might be set. There sculptured in the self-same marble were The cart and oxen, drawing the holy ark, Wherefore one dreads an office not appointed. People appeared in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043521 | front, and all of them In seven choirs divided, of two senses Made one say No, the other, Yes, they sing. Likewise unto the smoke of the frankincense, Which there was imaged forth, the eyes and nose Were in the yes and no discordant made. Preceded there the vessel benedight, Dancing with girded loins, the humble Psalmist, And more and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043522 | less than King was he in this. Opposite, represented at the window Of a great palace, Michal looked upon him, Even as a woman scornful and afflicted. I moved my feet from where I had been standing, To examine near at hand another story, Which after Michal glimmered white upon me. There the high glory of the Roman Prince Was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043523 | chronicled, whose great beneficence Moved Gregory to his great victory; Tis of the Emperor Trajan I am speaking; And a poor widow at his bridle stood, In attitude of weeping and of grief. Around about him seemed it thronged and full Of cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold Above them visibly in the wind were moving. The wretched woman | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043524 | in the midst of these Seemed to be saying: Give me vengeance, Lord, For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking. And he to answer her: Now wait until I shall return. And she: My Lord, like one In whom grief is impatient, shouldst thou not Return? And he: Who shall be where I am Will give it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043525 | thee. And she: Good deed of others What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own? Whence he: Now comfort thee, for it behoves me That I discharge my duty ere I move; Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me. He who on no new thing has ever looked Was the creator of this visible language, Novel to us, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043526 | for here it is not found. While I delighted me in contemplating The images of such humility, And dear to look on for their Makers sake, Behold, upon this side, but rare they make Their steps, the Poet murmured, many people; These will direct us to the lofty stairs. Mine eyes, that in beholding were intent To see new things, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043527 | of which they curious are, In turning round towards him were not slow. But still I wish not, Reader, thou shouldst swerve From thy good purposes, because thou hearest How God ordaineth that the debt be paid; Attend not to the fashion of the torment, Think of what follows; think that at the worst It cannot reach beyond the mighty | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043528 | sentence. Master, began I, that which I behold Moving towards us seems to me not persons, And what I know not, so in sight I waver. And he to me: The grievous quality Of this their torment bows them so to earth, That my own eyes at first contended with it; But look there fixedly, and disentangle By sight what | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043529 | cometh underneath those stones; Already canst thou see how each is stricken. O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones! Who, in the vision of the mind infirm Confidence have in your backsliding steps, Do ye not comprehend that we are worms, Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly That flieth unto judgment without screen? Why floats aloft your spirit high | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043530 | in air? Like are ye unto insects undeveloped, Even as the worm in whom formation fails! As to sustain a ceiling or a roof, In place of corbel, oftentimes a figure Is seen to join its knees unto its breast, Which makes of the unreal real anguish Arise in him who sees it, fashioned thus Beheld I those, when I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043531 | had taen good heed. True is it, they were more or less bent down, According as they more or less were laden; And he who had most patience in his looks Weeping did seem to say, I can no more! Purgatorio: Canto XI Our Father, thou who dwellest in the heavens, Not circumscribed, but from the greater love Thou bearest | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043532 | to the first effects on high, Praised be thy name and thine omnipotence By every creature, as befitting is To render thanks to thy sweet effluence. Come unto us the peace of thy dominion, For unto it we cannot of ourselves, If it come not, with all our intellect. Even as thine own Angels of their will Make sacrifice to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043533 | thee, Hosanna singing, So may all men make sacrifice of theirs. Give unto us this day our daily manna, Withouten which in this rough wilderness Backward goes he who toils most to advance. And even as we the trespass we have suffered Pardon in one another, pardon thou Benignly, and regard not our desert. Our virtue, which is easily oercome, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043534 | Put not to proof with the old Adversary, But thou from him who spurs it so, deliver. This last petition verily, dear Lord, Not for ourselves is made, who need it not, But for their sake who have remained behind us. Thus for themselves and us good furtherance Those shades imploring, went beneath a weight Like unto that of which | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043535 | we sometimes dream, Unequally in anguish round and round And weary all, upon that foremost cornice, Purging away the smoke-stains of the world. If there good words are always said for us, What may not here be said and done for them, By those who have a good root to their will? Well may we help them wash away the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043536 | marks That hence they carried, so that clean and light They may ascend unto the starry wheels! Ah! so may pity and justice you disburden Soon, that ye may have power to move the wing, That shall uplift you after your desire, Show us on which hand towrd the stairs the way Is shortest, and if more than one the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043537 | passes, Point us out that which least abruptly falls; For he who cometh with me, through the burden Of Adams flesh wherewith he is invested, Against his will is chary of his climbing. The words of theirs which they returned to those That he whom I was following had spoken, It was not manifest from whom they came, But it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043538 | was said: To the right hand come with us Along the bank, and ye shall find a pass Possible for living person to ascend. And were I not impeded by the stone, Which this proud neck of mine doth subjugate, Whence I am forced to hold my visage down, Him, who still lives and does not name himself, Would I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043539 | regard, to see if I may know him And make him piteous unto this burden. A Latian was I, and born of a great Tuscan; Guglielmo Aldobrandeschi was my father; I know not if his name were ever with you. The ancient blood and deeds of gallantry Of my progenitors so arrogant made me That, thinking not upon the common | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043540 | mother, All men I held in scorn to such extent I died therefor, as know the Sienese, And every child in Campagnatico. I am Omberto; and not to me alone Has pride done harm, but all my kith and kin Has with it dragged into adversity. And here must I this burden bear for it Till God be satisfied, since | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043541 | I did not Among the living, here among the dead. Listening I downward bent my countenance; And one of them, not this one who was speaking, Twisted himself beneath the weight that cramps him, And looked at me, and knew me, and called out, Keeping his eyes laboriously fixed On me, who all bowed down was going with them. O, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043542 | asked I him, art thou not Oderisi, Agobbios honour, and honour of that art Which is in Paris called illuminating? Brother, said he, more laughing are the leaves Touched by the brush of Franco Bolognese; All his the honour now, and mine in part. In sooth I had not been so courteous While I was living, for the great desire | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043543 | Of excellence, on which my heart was bent. Here of such pride is paid the forfeiture; And yet I should not be here, were it not That, having power to sin, I turned to God. O thou vain glory of the human powers, How little green upon thy summit lingers, Ift be not followed by an age of grossness! In | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043544 | painting Cimabue thought that he Should hold the field, now Giotto has the cry, So that the others fame is growing dim. So has one Guido from the other taken The glory of our tongue, and he perchance Is born, who from the nest shall chase them both. Naught is this mundane rumour but a breath Of wind, that comes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043545 | now this way and now that, And changes name, because it changes side. What fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off From thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst been dead Before thou left the pappo and the dindi, Ere pass a thousand years? which is a shorter Space to the eterne, than twinkling of an eye Unto | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043546 | the circle that in heaven wheels slowest. With him, who takes so little of the road In front of me, all Tuscany resounded; And now he scarce is lisped of in Siena, Where he was lord, what time was overthrown The Florentine delirium, that superb Was at that day as now tis prostitute. Your reputation is the colour of grass | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043547 | Which comes and goes, and that discolours it By which it issues green from out the earth. And I: Thy true speech fills my heart with good Humility, and great tumour thou assuagest; But who is he, of whom just now thou spakest? That, he replied, is Provenzan Salvani, And he is here because he had presumed To bring Siena | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043548 | all into his hands. He has gone thus, and goeth without rest Eer since he died; such money renders back In payment he who is on earth too daring. And I: If every spirit who awaits The verge of life before that he repent, Remains below there and ascends not hither, (Unless good orison shall him bestead,) Until as much | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043549 | time as he lived be passed, How was the coming granted him in largess? When he in greatest splendour lived, said he, Freely upon the Campo of Siena, All shame being laid aside, he placed himself; And there to draw his friend from the duress Which in the prison-house of Charles he suffered, He brought himself to tremble in each | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043550 | vein. I say no more, and know that I speak darkly; Yet little time shall pass before thy neighbours Will so demean themselves that thou canst gloss it. This action has released him from those confines. Purgatorio: Canto XII Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke, I with that heavy-laden soul went on, As long as the sweet pedagogue permitted; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043551 | But when he said, Leave him, and onward pass, For here tis good that with the sail and oars, As much as may be, each push on his barque; Upright, as walking wills it, I redressed My person, notwithstanding that my thoughts Remained within me downcast and abashed. I had moved on, and followed willingly The footsteps of my Master, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043552 | and we both Already showed how light of foot we were, When unto me he said: Cast down thine eyes; Twere well for thee, to alleviate the way, To look upon the bed beneath thy feet. As, that some memory may exist of them, Above the buried dead their tombs in earth Bear sculptured on them what they were before; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043553 | Whence often there we weep for them afresh, From pricking of remembrance, which alone To the compassionate doth set its spur; So saw I there, but of a better semblance In point of artifice, with figures covered Whateer as pathway from the mount projects. I saw that one who was created noble More than all other creatures, down from heaven | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043554 | Flaming with lightnings fall upon one side. I saw Briareus smitten by the dart Celestial, lying on the other side, Heavy upon the earth by mortal frost. I saw Thymbraeus, Pallas saw, and Mars, Still clad in armour round about their father, Gaze at the scattered members of the giants. I saw, at foot of his great labour, Nimrod, As | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043555 | if bewildered, looking at the people Who had been proud with him in Sennaar. O Niobe! with what afflicted eyes Thee I beheld upon the pathway traced, Between thy seven and seven children slain! O Saul! how fallen upon thy proper sword Didst thou appear there lifeless in Gilboa, That felt thereafter neither rain nor dew! O mad Arachne! so | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043556 | I thee beheld Een then half spider, sad upon the shreds Of fabric wrought in evil hour for thee! O Rehoboam! no more seems to threaten Thine image there; but full of consternation A chariot bears it off, when none pursues! Displayed moreoer the adamantine pavement How unto his own mother made Alcmaeon Costly appear the luckless ornament; Displayed how | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043557 | his own sons did throw themselves Upon Sennacherib within the temple, And how, he being dead, they left him there; Displayed the ruin and the cruel carnage That Tomyris wrought, when she to Cyrus said, Blood didst thou thirst for, and with blood I glut thee! Displayed how routed fled the Assyrians After that Holofernes had been slain, And likewise | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043558 | the remainder of that slaughter. I saw there Troy in ashes and in caverns; O Ilion! thee, how abject and debased, Displayed the image that is there discerned! Whoeer of pencil master was or stile, That could portray the shades and traits which there Would cause each subtile genius to admire? Dead seemed the dead, the living seemed alive; Better | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043559 | than I saw not who saw the truth, All that I trod upon while bowed I went. Now wax ye proud, and on with looks uplifted, Ye sons of Eve, and bow not down your faces So that ye may behold your evil ways! More of the mount by us was now encompassed, And far more spent the circuit of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043560 | the sun, Than had the mind preoccupied imagined, When he, who ever watchful in advance Was going on, began: Lift up thy head, Tis no more time to go thus meditating. Lo there an Angel who is making haste To come towards us; lo, returning is From service of the day the sixth handmaiden. With reverence thine acts and looks | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043561 | adorn, So that he may delight to speed us upward; Think that this day will never dawn again. I was familiar with his admonition Ever to lose no time; so on this theme He could not unto me speak covertly. Towards us came the being beautiful Vested in white, and in his countenance Such as appears the tremulous morning star. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043562 | His arms he opened, and opened then his wings; Come, said he, near at hand here are the steps, And easy from henceforth is the ascent. At this announcement few are they who come! O human creatures, born to soar aloft, Why fall ye thus before a little wind? He led us on to where the rock was cleft; There | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043563 | smote upon my forehead with his wings, Then a safe passage promised unto me. As on the right hand, to ascend the mount Where seated is the church that lordeth it Oer the well-guided, above Rubaconte, The bold abruptness of the ascent is broken By stairways that were made there in the age When still were safe the ledger and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043564 | the stave, Een thus attempered is the bank which falls Sheer downward from the second circle there; But on this, side and that the high rock graze. As we were turning thitherward our persons, Beati pauperes spiritu, voices Sang in such wise that speech could tell it not. Ah me! how different are these entrances From the Infernal! for with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043565 | anthems here One enters, and below with wild laments. We now were hunting up the sacred stairs, And it appeared to me by far more easy Than on the plain it had appeared before. Whence I: My Master, say, what heavy thing Has been uplifted from me, so that hardly Aught of fatigue is felt by me in walking? He | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043566 | answered: When the Ps which have remained Still on thy face almost obliterate Shall wholly, as the first is, be erased, Thy feet will be so vanquished by good will, That not alone they shall not feel fatigue, But urging up will be to them delight. Then did I even as they do who are going With something on the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043567 | head to them unknown, Unless the signs of others make them doubt, Wherefore the hand to ascertain is helpful, And seeks and finds, and doth fulfill the office Which cannot be accomplished by the sight; And with the fingers of the right hand spread I found but six the letters, that had carved Upon my temples he who bore the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043568 | keys; Upon beholding which my Leader smiled. Purgatorio: Canto XIII We were upon the summit of the stairs, Where for the second time is cut away The mountain, which ascending shriveth all. There in like manner doth a cornice bind The hill all round about, as does the first, Save that its arc more suddenly is curved. Shade is there | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043569 | none, nor sculpture that appears; So seems the bank, and so the road seems smooth, With but the livid colour of the stone. If to inquire we wait for people here, The Poet said, I fear that peradventure Too much delay will our election have. Then steadfast on the sun his eyes he fixed, Made his right side the centre | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043570 | of his motion, And turned the left part of himself about. O thou sweet light! with trust in whom I enter Upon this novel journey, do thou lead us, Said he, as one within here should be led. Thou warmest the world, thou shinest over it; If other reason prompt not otherwise, Thy rays should evermore our leaders be! As | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043571 | much as here is counted for a mile, So much already there had we advanced In little time, by dint of ready will; And towrds us there were heard to fly, albeit They were not visible, spirits uttering Unto Loves table courteous invitations, The first voice that passed onward in its flight, Vinum non habent, said in accents loud, And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043572 | went reiterating it behind us. And ere it wholly grew inaudible Because of distance, passed another, crying, I am Orestes! and it also stayed not. O, said I, Father, these, what voices are they? And even as I asked, behold the third, Saying: Love those from whom ye have had evil! And the good Master said: This circle scourges The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043573 | sin of envy, and on that account Are drawn from love the lashes of the scourge. The bridle of another sound shall be; I think that thou wilt hear it, as I judge, Before thou comest to the Pass of Pardon. But fix thine eyes athwart the air right steadfast, And people thou wilt see before us sitting, And each | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043574 | one close against the cliff is seated. Then wider than at first mine eyes I opened; I looked before me, and saw shades with mantles Not from the colour of the stone diverse. And when we were a little farther onward, I heard a cry of, Mary, pray for us! A cry of, Michael, Peter, and all Saints! I do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043575 | not think there walketh still on earth A man so hard, that he would not be pierced With pity at what afterward I saw. For when I had approached so near to them That manifest to me their acts became, Drained was I at the eyes by heavy grief. Covered with sackcloth vile they seemed to me, And one sustained | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043576 | the other with his shoulder, And all of them were by the bank sustained. Thus do the blind, in want of livelihood, Stand at the doors of churches asking alms, And one upon another leans his head, So that in others pity soon may rise, Not only at the accent of their words, But at their aspect, which no less | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043577 | implores. And as unto the blind the sun comes not, So to the shades, of whom just now I spake, Heavens light will not be bounteous of itself; For all their lids an iron wire transpierces, And sews them up, as to a sparhawk wild Is done, because it will not quiet stay. To me it seemed, in passing, to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043578 | do outrage, Seeing the others without being seen; Wherefore I turned me to my counsel sage. Well knew he what the mute one wished to say, And therefore waited not for my demand, But said: Speak, and be brief, and to the point. I had Virgilius upon that side Of the embankment from which one may fall, Since by no | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043579 | border tis engarlanded; Upon the other side of me I had The shades devout, who through the horrible seam Pressed out the tears so that they bathed their cheeks. To them I turned me, and, O people, certain, Began I, of beholding the high light, Which your desire has solely in its care, So may grace speedily dissolve the scum | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043580 | Upon your consciences, that limpidly Through them descend the river of the mind, Tell me, for dear twill be to me and gracious, If any soul among you here is Latian, And twill perchance be good for him I learn it. O brother mine, each one is citizen Of one true city; but thy meaning is, Who may have lived | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043581 | in Italy a pilgrim. By way of answer this I seemed to hear A little farther on than where I stood, Whereat I made myself still nearer heard. Among the rest I saw a shade that waited In aspect, and should any one ask how, Its chin it lifted upward like a blind man. Spirit, I said, who stoopest to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043582 | ascend, If thou art he who did reply to me, Make thyself known to me by place or name. Sienese was I, it replied, and with The others here recleanse my guilty life, Weeping to Him to lend himself to us. Sapient I was not, although I Sapia Was called, and I was at anothers harm More happy far than | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043583 | at my own good fortune. And that thou mayst not think that I deceive thee, Hear if I was as foolish as I tell thee. The arc already of my years descending, My fellow-citizens near unto Colle Were joined in battle with their adversaries, And I was praying God for what he willed. Routed were they, and turned into the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043584 | bitter Passes of flight; and I, the chase beholding, A joy received unequalled by all others; So that I lifted upward my bold face Crying to God, Henceforth I fear thee not, As did the blackbird at the little sunshine. Peace I desired with God at the extreme Of my existence, and as yet would not My debt have been | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043585 | by penitence discharged, Had it not been that in remembrance held me Pier Pettignano in his holy prayers, Who out of charity was grieved for me. But who art thou, that into our conditions Questioning goest, and hast thine eyes unbound As I believe, and breathing dost discourse? Mine eyes, I said, will yet be here taen from me, But | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043586 | for short space; for small is the offence Committed by their being turned with envy. Far greater is the fear, wherein suspended My soul is, of the torment underneath, For even now the load down there weighs on me. And she to me: Who led thee, then, among us Up here, if to return below thou thinkest? And I: He | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043587 | who is with me, and speaks not; And living am I; therefore ask of me, Spirit elect, if thou wouldst have me move Oer yonder yet my mortal feet for thee. O, this is such a novel thing to hear, She answered, that great sign it is God loves thee; Therefore with prayer of thine sometimes assist me. And I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043588 | implore, by what thou most desirest, If eer thou treadest the soil of Tuscany, Well with my kindred reinstate my fame. Them wilt thou see among that people vain Who hope in Talamone, and will lose there More hope than in discovering the Diana; But there still more the admirals will lose. Purgatorio: Canto XIV Who is this one that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043589 | goes about our mountain, Or ever Death has given him power of flight, And opes his eyes and shuts them at his will? I know not who, but know hes not alone; Ask him thyself, for thou art nearer to him, And gently, so that he may speak, accost him. Thus did two spirits, leaning towrds each other, Discourse about | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043590 | me there on the right hand; Then held supine their faces to address me. And said the one: O soul, that, fastened still Within the body, towrds the heaven art going, For charity console us, and declare Whence comest and who art thou; for thou makst us As much to marvel at this grace of thine As must a thing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043591 | that never yet has been. And I: Through midst of Tuscany there wanders A streamlet that is born in Falterona, And not a hundred miles of course suffice it; From thereupon do I this body bring. To tell you who I am were speech in vain, Because my name as yet makes no great noise. If well thy meaning I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043592 | can penetrate With intellect of mine, then answered me He who first spake, thou speakest of the Arno. And said the other to him: Why concealed This one the appellation of that river, Even as a man doth of things horrible? And thus the shade that questioned was of this Himself acquitted: I know not; but truly Tis fit the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043593 | name of such a valley perish; For from its fountain-head (where is so pregnant The Alpine mountain whence is cleft Peloro That in few places it that mark surpasses) To where it yields itself in restoration Of what the heaven doth of the sea dry up, Whence have the rivers that which goes with them, Virtue is like an enemy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043594 | avoided By all, as is a serpent, through misfortune Of place, or through bad habit that impels them; On which account have so transformed their nature The dwellers in that miserable valley, It seems that Circe had them in her pasture. Mid ugly swine, of acorns worthier Than other food for human use created, It first directeth its impoverished way. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043595 | Curs findeth it thereafter, coming downward, More snarling than their puissance demands, And turns from them disdainfully its muzzle. It goes on falling, and the more it grows, The more it finds the dogs becoming wolves, This maledict and misadventurous ditch. Descended then through many a hollow gulf, It finds the foxes so replete with fraud, They fear no cunning | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043596 | that may master them. Nor will I cease because another hears me; And well twill be for him, if still he mind him Of what a truthful spirit to me unravels. Thy grandson I behold, who doth become A hunter of those wolves upon the bank Of the wild stream, and terrifies them all. He sells their flesh, it being | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043597 | yet alive; Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves; Many of life, himself of praise, deprives. Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest; He leaves it such, a thousand years from now In its primeval state tis not re-wooded. As at the announcement of impending ills The face of him who listens is disturbed, From whateer side the peril seize upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043598 | him; So I beheld that other soul, which stood Turned round to listen, grow disturbed and sad, When it had gathered to itself the word. The speech of one and aspect of the other Had me desirous made to know their names, And question mixed with prayers I made thereof, Whereat the spirit which first spake to me Began again: | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000043599 | Thou wishest I should bring me To do for thee what thoult not do for me; But since God willeth that in thee shine forth Such grace of his, Ill not be chary with thee; Know, then, that I Guido del Duca am. My blood was so with envy set on fire, That if I had beheld a man make | 60 | gutenberg |
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