Divine Comedy: Purgatory | Page 5

all fair.
Then one I saw darting before the rest
With such fond ardour to
embrace me, I
To do the like was mov'd. O shadows vain
Except in
outward semblance! thrice my hands
I clasp'd behind it, they as oft
return'd
Empty into my breast again. Surprise
I needs must think
was painted in my looks,
For that the shadow smil'd and backward
drew.
To follow it I hasten'd, but with voice
Of sweetness it
enjoin'd me to desist.
Then who it was I knew, and pray'd of it,
To
talk with me, it would a little pause.
It answered: "Thee as in my
mortal frame
I lov'd, so loos'd forth it I love thee still,
And therefore
pause; but why walkest thou here?"
"Not without purpose once more to return,
Thou find'st me, my
Casella, where I am
Journeying this way;" I said, "but how of thee

Hath so much time been lost?" He answer'd straight:
"No outrage
hath been done to me, if he
Who when and whom he chooses takes,
me oft
This passage hath denied, since of just will
His will he
makes. These three months past indeed,
He, whose chose to enter,
with free leave
Hath taken; whence I wand'ring by the shore
Where
Tyber's wave grows salt, of him gain'd kind

Admittance, at that
river's mouth, tow'rd which
His wings are pointed, for there always
throng
All such as not to Archeron descend."

Then I: "If new laws have not quite destroy'd
Memory and use of that
sweet song of love,
That while all my cares had power to 'swage;

Please thee with it a little to console
My spirit, that incumber'd with
its frame,
Travelling so far, of pain is overcome."
"Love that discourses in my thoughts." He then
Began in such soft
accents, that within
The sweetness thrills me yet. My gentle guide

And all who came with him, so well were pleas'd,
That seem'd naught
else might in their thoughts have room.
Fast fix'd in mute attention to his notes
We stood, when lo! that old
man venerable
Exclaiming, "How is this, ye tardy spirits?
What
negligence detains you loit'ring here?
Run to the mountain to cast off
those scales,
That from your eyes the sight of God conceal."
As a wild flock of pigeons, to their food
Collected, blade or tares,
without their pride
Accustom'd, and in still and quiet sort,
If aught
alarm them, suddenly desert
Their meal, assail'd by more important
care;
So I that new-come troop beheld, the song
Deserting, hasten
to the mountain's side,
As one who goes yet where he tends knows
not.
Nor with less hurried step did we depart.
CANTO III
Them sudden flight had scatter'd over the plain,
Turn'd tow'rds the
mountain, whither reason's voice
Drives us; I to my faithful company

Adhering, left it not. For how of him
Depriv'd, might I have sped,
or who beside
Would o'er the mountainous tract have led my steps

He with the bitter pang of self-remorse
Seem'd smitten. O clear
conscience and upright
How doth a little fling wound thee sore!
Soon as his feet desisted (slack'ning pace),
From haste, that mars all
decency of act,
My mind, that in itself before was wrapt,
Its

thoughts expanded, as with joy restor'd:
And full against the steep
ascent I set
My face, where highest to heav'n its top o'erflows.
The sun, that flar'd behind, with ruddy beam
Before my form was
broken; for in me
His rays resistance met. I turn'd aside
With fear of
being left, when I beheld
Only before myself the ground obscur'd.

When thus my solace, turning him around,
Bespake me kindly: "Why
distrustest thou?
Believ'st not I am with thee, thy sure guide?
It now
is evening there, where buried lies
The body, in which I cast a shade,
remov'd
To Naples from Brundusium's wall. Nor thou
Marvel, if
before me no shadow fall,
More than that in the sky element
One
ray obstructs not other. To endure
Torments of heat and cold extreme,
like frames
That virtue hath dispos'd, which how it works
Wills not
to us should be reveal'd. Insane
Who hopes, our reason may that
space explore,
Which holds three persons in one substance knit.

Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;
Could ye have seen the
whole, no need had been
For Mary to bring forth. Moreover ye

Have seen such men desiring fruitlessly;
To whose desires repose
would have been giv'n,
That now but serve them for eternal grief.
I
speak of Plato, and the Stagyrite,
And others many more." And then
he bent
Downwards his forehead, and in troubled mood
Broke off
his speech. Meanwhile we had arriv'd
Far as the mountain's foot, and
there the rock
Found of so steep ascent, that nimblest steps
To
climb it had been vain. The most remote
Most wild untrodden path,
in all the tract
'Twixt Lerice and Turbia were to this
A ladder easy'
and open of access.
"Who knows on which hand now the steep declines?"
My master said
and paus'd, "so that he may
Ascend, who journeys without aid of
wine,?"

And while with looks directed to the ground
The meaning
of the pathway he explor'd,
And I gaz'd upward round the stony
height,
Of spirits, that toward us mov'd their steps,
Yet moving
seem'd not, they so slow approach'd.

I thus my guide address'd: "Upraise thine