Divine Comedy: Purgatory | Page 7

the steep bank,
Where the plain level
open'd I exclaim'd,
"O master! say which way can we proceed?"
He answer'd, "Let no step of thine recede.
Behind me gain the
mountain, till to us
Some practis'd guide appear." That eminence

Was lofty that no eye might reach its point,
And the side proudly
rising, more than line
From the mid quadrant to the centre drawn.
I
wearied thus began: "Parent belov'd!
Turn, and behold how I remain
alone,

If thou stay not." --" My son!" He straight reply'd,
"Thus far
put forth thy strength; "and to a track
Pointed, that, on this side

projecting, round
Circles the hill. His words so spurr'd me on,
That
I behind him clamb'ring, forc'd myself,
Till my feet press'd the circuit
plain beneath.
There both together seated, turn'd we round
To
eastward, whence was our ascent: and oft
Many beside have with
delight look'd back.
First on the nether shores I turn'd my eyes,
Then rais'd them to the
sun, and wond'ring mark'd
That from the left it smote us. Soon
perceiv'd
That Poet sage how at the car of light
Amaz'd I stood,
where 'twixt us and the north
Its course it enter'd. Whence he thus to
me:
"Were Leda's offspring now in company
Of that broad mirror,
that high up and low
Imparts his light beneath, thou might'st behold

The ruddy zodiac nearer to the bears
Wheel, if its ancient course it
not forsook.
How that may be if thou would'st think; within

Pond'ring, imagine Sion with this mount
Plac'd on the earth, so that to
both be one
Horizon, and two hemispheres apart,
Where lies the
path that Phaeton ill knew
To guide his erring chariot: thou wilt see

How of necessity by this on one
He passes, while by that on the' other
side,
If with clear view shine intellect attend."
"Of truth, kind teacher!" I exclaim'd, "so clear
Aught saw I never, as I
now discern
Where seem'd my ken to fail, that the mid orb
Of the
supernal motion (which in terms
Of art is called the Equator, and
remains
Ever between the sun and winter) for the cause
Thou hast
assign'd, from hence toward the north
Departs, when those who in the
Hebrew land
Inhabit, see it tow'rds the warmer part.
But if it please
thee, I would gladly know,
How far we have to journey: for the hill

Mounts higher, than this sight of mine can mount."
He thus to me: "Such is this steep ascent,
That it is ever difficult at
first,
But, more a man proceeds, less evil grows.

When pleasant it
shall seem to thee, so much
That upward going shall be easy to thee.

As in a vessel to go down the tide,
Then of this path thou wilt have
reach'd the end.
There hope to rest thee from thy toil. No more
I

answer, and thus far for certain know."
As he his words had spoken,
near to us
A voice there sounded: "Yet ye first perchance
May to
repose you by constraint be led."
At sound thereof each turn'd, and on
the left
A huge stone we beheld, of which nor I
Nor he before was
ware. Thither we drew,
find there were some, who in the shady place

Behind the rock were standing, as a man
Thru' idleness might stand.
Among them one,
Who seem'd to me much wearied, sat him down,

And with his arms did fold his knees about,
Holding his face between
them downward bent.
"Sweet Sir!" I cry'd, "behold that man, who shows
Himself more idle,
than if laziness
Were sister to him." Straight he turn'd to us,
And,
o'er the thigh lifting his face, observ'd,
Then in these accents spake:
"Up then, proceed
Thou valiant one." Straight who it was I knew;

Nor could the pain I felt (for want of breath
Still somewhat urg'd me)
hinder my approach.
And when I came to him, he scarce his head

Uplifted, saying "Well hast thou discern'd,
How from the left the sun
his chariot leads."
His lazy acts and broken words my lips
To laughter somewhat mov'd;
when I began:
"Belacqua, now for thee I grieve no more.
But tell,
why thou art seated upright there?
Waitest thou escort to conduct thee
hence?
Or blame I only shine accustom'd ways?"
Then he: "My
brother, of what use to mount,
When to my suffering would not let
me pass
The bird of God, who at the portal sits?
Behooves so long
that heav'n first bear me round
Without its limits, as in life it bore,

Because I to the end repentant Sighs
Delay'd, if prayer do not aid me
first,
That riseth up from heart which lives in grace.
What other
kind avails, not heard in heaven?"'
Before me now the Poet up the mount
Ascending, cried: "Haste thee,
for see the sun
Has touch'd the point meridian, and the night

Now
covers with her foot Marocco's shore."

CANTO V
Now had I left those spirits, and pursued
The steps of my Conductor,
when beheld
Pointing the finger at me one exclaim'd:
"See how it
seems as if the light not shone
From the left hand of him beneath, and
he,
As living, seems to be led on." Mine eyes
I at that sound
reverting, saw them gaze
Through wonder first at me, and then at me

And the light broken underneath,