Divine Comedy: Purgatory | Page 7

is at the zenith.
The souls who had become aware concerning me by my breathing, that
I was still alive, marvelling became deadly pale. And as to a messenger
who bears an olive branch the folk press to hear news, and no one
shows himself shy of crowding, so, at the sight of me, those fortunate
souls stopped still, all of them, as if forgetting to go to make
themselves fair.
I saw one of them drawing forward to embrace me with so great
affection that it moved me to do the like. O shades empty save in aspect!
Three times behind it I clasped my hands and as oft returned with them
unto my breast. With marvel, I believe, I painted me; wherefore the
shade smiled and drew back, and I, following it, pressed forward,
Gently it said, that I should pause; then I knew who it was, and I prayed
it that to speak with me it would stop a little. It replied to me, "So as I
loved thee in the mortal body, so loosed from it I love thee; therefore I
stop; but wherefore goest thou?"
"Casella mine, in order to return another time to this place where I am,
do I make this journey," said I, "but from thee how has so much time
been taken?"[1]

[1] "How has thy coming hither been delayed so long since thy death?"
And he to me, "No wrong has been done me if he[1] who takes both
when and whom it pleases him ofttimes hath denied to me this passage;
for of a just will[2] his own is made. Truly for three months he has
taken with all peace whoso has wished to enter. Wherefore I who was
now turned to the seashore where the water of Tiber grows salt was
benignantly received by him.[3] To that outlet has he now turned his
wing, because always those assemble there who towards Acheron do
not descend."
[1] The Celestial Pilot.
[2] That is, of the Divine Will; but there is no explanation of the motive
of the delay.
[3] The Tiber is the local symbol of the Church of Rome, from whose
bosom those who die at peace with her pass to Purgatory. The Jubilee,
proclaimed by Boniface VIII., had begun at
Christmas, 1299, so that
for three months now the Celestial Pilot had received graciously all
who had taken advantage of it to gain remission of their sins.
And I, "If a new law take not from thee memory or practice of the song
of love which was wont to quiet in me all my longings, may it please
thee therewith somewhat to comfort my soul, which coming hither with
its body is so wearied."
"Love which in my mind discourseth with me,"[1] began he then so
sweetly that the sweetness still within me sounds.[2] My Master, and I,
and that folk who were with him, appeared so content as if naught else
could touch the mind of any.
[1] The first verse of a canzone by Dante; the canzone is the second of
those upon which he comments in his Convito.
[2] Every English reader recalls Milton's Sonnet to Mr. Henry Lawes:--

"Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher
Than his Casella,
whom he woo'd to sing,
Met in the milder shades of purgatory."

Nothing is known of Casella beyond what is implied in Dante's
affectionate record of their meeting.
We were all fixed and attentive to his notes; and lo! the
venerable old
man crying, "What is this, ye laggard spirits? What negligence, what
stay is this? Run to the mountain to strip off the slough that lets not
God be manifest to you."
As, when gathering grain or tare, the doves assembled at their feeding,
quiet, without display of their accustomed pride, if aught appear of
which they are afraid, suddenly let the food alone, because they are
assailed by a greater care, so I saw that fresh troop leave the song, and
go towards the hill-side, like one that goes but knows not where he may
come out. Nor was our departure less speedy.
CANTO III. Ante-Purgatory.--Souls of those who have died in
contumacy of the Church.-- Manfred.
Inasmuch as the sudden flight had scattered them over the plain, turned
to the mount whereto reason spurs us, I drew me close to my trusty
companion. And how should I without him have run? Who would have
drawn me up over the mountain? He seemed to me of his own self
remorseful. O conscience, upright and stainless, how bitter a sting to
thee is little fault!
When his feet left the haste that takes the seemliness from every act,
my mind, which at first had been restrained, let loose its attention, as
though eager, and I turned my face unto