Divine Comedy: Purgatory | Page 8

hill there came,?A little way before us, some who sang?The "Miserere" in responsive Strains.?When they perceiv'd that through my body I?Gave way not for the rays to pass, their song?Straight to a long and hoarse exclaim they chang'd;?And two of them, in guise of messengers,?Ran on to meet us, and inquiring ask'd:?Of your condition we would gladly learn."
To them my guide. "Ye may return, and bear?Tidings to them who sent you, that his frame?Is real flesh. If, as I deem, to view?His shade they paus'd, enough is answer'd them.?Him let them honour, they may prize him well."
Ne'er saw I fiery vapours with such speed?Cut through the serene air at fall of night,?Nor August's clouds athwart the setting sun,?That upward these did not in shorter space?Return; and, there arriving, with the rest?Wheel back on us, as with loose rein a troop.
"Many," exclaim'd the bard, "are these, who throng?Around us: to petition thee they come.?Go therefore on, and listen as thou go'st."
"O spirit! who go'st on to blessedness?With the same limbs, that clad thee at thy birth."?Shouting they came, "a little rest thy step.?Look if thou any one amongst our tribe?Hast e'er beheld, that tidings of him there?Thou mayst report. Ah, wherefore go'st thou on??Ah wherefore tarriest thou not? We all?By violence died, and to our latest hour?Were sinners, but then warn'd by light from heav'n,?So that, repenting and forgiving, we?Did issue out of life at peace with God,?Who with desire to see him fills our heart."
Then I: "The visages of all I scan?Yet none of ye remember. But if aught,?That I can do, may please you, gentle spirits!?Speak; and I will perform it, by that peace,?Which on the steps of guide so excellent?Following from world to world intent I seek."
In answer he began: "None here distrusts?Thy kindness, though not promis'd with an oath;?So as the will fail not for want of power.?Whence I, who sole before the others speak,?Entreat thee, if thou ever see that land,?Which lies between Romagna and the realm?Of Charles, that of thy courtesy thou pray?Those who inhabit Fano, that for me?Their adorations duly be put up,?By which I may purge off my grievous sins.?From thence I came. But the deep passages,?Whence issued out the blood wherein I dwelt,?Upon my bosom in Antenor's land?Were made, where to be more secure I thought.?The author of the deed was Este's prince,?Who, more than right could warrant, with his wrath?Pursued me. Had I towards Mira fled,?When overta'en at Oriaco, still?Might I have breath'd. But to the marsh I sped,?And in the mire and rushes tangled there?Fell, and beheld my life-blood float the plain."
Then said another: "Ah! so may the wish,?That takes thee o'er the mountain, be fulfill'd,?As thou shalt graciously give aid to mine.?Of Montefeltro I; Buonconte I:?Giovanna nor none else have care for me,?Sorrowing with these I therefore go." I thus:?"From Campaldino's field what force or chance?Drew thee, that ne'er thy sepulture was known?"
"Oh!" answer'd he, "at Casentino's foot?A stream there courseth, nam'd Archiano, sprung?In Apennine above the Hermit's seat.?E'en where its name is cancel'd, there came I,?Pierc'd in the heart, fleeing away on foot,?And bloodying the plain. Here sight and speech?Fail'd me, and finishing with Mary's name?I fell, and tenantless my flesh remain'd.?I will report the truth; which thou again0?Tell to the living. Me God's angel took,?Whilst he of hell exclaim'd: "O thou from heav'n!?Say wherefore hast thou robb'd me? Thou of him?Th' eternal portion bear'st with thee away?For one poor tear that he deprives me of.?But of the other, other rule I make."
"Thou knowest how in the atmosphere collects?That vapour dank, returning into water,?Soon as it mounts where cold condenses it.?That evil will, which in his intellect?Still follows evil, came, and rais'd the wind?And smoky mist, by virtue of the power?Given by his nature. Thence the valley, soon?As day was spent, he cover'd o'er with cloud?From Pratomagno to the mountain range,?And stretch'd the sky above, so that the air?Impregnate chang'd to water. Fell the rain,?And to the fosses came all that the land?Contain'd not; and, as mightiest streams are wont,?To the great river with such headlong sweep?Rush'd, that nought stay'd its course. My stiffen'd frame?Laid at his mouth the fell Archiano found,?And dash'd it into Arno, from my breast?Loos'ning the cross, that of myself I made?When overcome with pain. He hurl'd me on,?Along the banks and bottom of his course;?Then in his muddy spoils encircling wrapt."
"Ah! when thou to the world shalt be return'd,?And rested after thy long road," so spake?Next the third spirit; "then remember me.?I once was Pia. Sienna gave me life,?Maremma took it from me. That he knows,?Who me with jewell'd ring had first espous'd."
CANTO VI
When from their game of dice men separate,?He, who hath lost, remains in sadness fix'd,?Revolving in his mind, what luckless throws?He cast: but meanwhile all the company?Go with the other;