PURGATORY(XXX) of THE DIVINE COMEDY BY DANTE ALIGHIERI

Directory:THE DIVINE COMEDY

CANTO XXX

ARGUMENT.—Beatrice descends from Heaven, and rebukes the Poet.

SOON as that polar light,〖The seven candlesticks of gold, which he calls the polar light of Heaven itself, because they perform the same office for Christians that the polar star does for mariners, in guiding them to their port.〗 fair ornament

Of the first Heaven, which hath never known

Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil

Of other cloud than sin, to duty there

Each one convoying, as that lower doth

The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix'd;

Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van

Between the Gryphon and its radiance came,

Did turn them to the car, as to their rest:

And one, as if commission'd from above,

In holy chant thrice shouted forth aloud;

“Come,〖“Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me, from Lebanon.”—Song of Solomon, iv. 8.〗 spouse! from Libanus:” and all the rest

Took up the song.—At the last audit, so

The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each

Uplifting lightly his new-vested flesh;

As, on the sacred litter, at the voice

Authoritative of that elder, sprang

A hundred ministers and messengers

Of life eternal. “Blessed〖Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.”—Matt. xxi. 9.〗 thou, who comest!”

And, “Oh!” they cried, “from full hands scatter ye

Unwithering lilies”: and, so saying, cast

Flowers overhead and round them on all sides.

I have beheld, ere now, at break of day,

The eastern clime all roseate; and the sky

Opposed, one deep and beautiful serene;

And the sun's face so shaded, and with mists

Attemper'd, at his rising, that the eye

Long while endured the sight: thus, in a cloud

Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose,

And down within and outside of the car

Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreathed,

A virgin in my view appear'd, beneath

Green mantle, robed in hue of living flame:

And o'er my spirit, that so long a time

Had from her presence felt no shuddering dread,

Albeit mine eyes discern'd her not, there moved

A hidden virtue from her, at whose touch

The power of ancient love was strong within me.

No sooner on my vision streaming, smote

The heavenly influence, which, years past, and e'en

In childhood, thrill'd me, than towards Virgil I

Turn'd me to leftward; panting, like a babe,

That flees for refuge to his mother's breast,

If aught have terrified or work'd him woe:

And would have cried, “There is no dram of blood,

That doth not quiver in me. The old flame

Throws out clear tokens of reviving fire.”

But Virgil had bereaved us of himself;

Virgil, my best-loved father, Virgil, he

To whom I gave me up for safety: nor

All, our prime mother lost, avail'd to save

My undew'd cheeks from blur of soiling tears.

“Dante! weep not that Virgil leaves thee; nay,

Weep thou not yet: behoves thee feel the edge

Of other sword; and thou shalt weep for that.”

As to the prow or stern, some admiral

Paces the deck, inspiriting his crew,

When 'mid the sail-yards all hands ply aloof;

Thus, on the left side of the car, I saw

(Turning me at the sound of mine own name,

Which here I am compell'd to register)

The virgin station'd, who before appear'd

Veil'd in that festive shower angelical.

Towards me, across the stream, she bent her eyes;

Though from her brow the veil descending, bound

With foliage of Minerva, suffer'd not

That I beheld her clearly: then with act

Full royal, still insulting o'er her thrall,

Added, as one who, speaking, keepeth back

The bitterest saying, to conclude the speech:

“Observe me well. I am, in sooth, I am

Beatrice. What! and hast thou deign'd at last

Approach the mountain? Knewest not, O man!

Thy happiness is here?” Down fell mine eyes

On the clear fount; but there, myself espying,

Recoil'd, and sought the greensward; such a weight

Of shame was on my forehead. With a mien

Of that stern majesty, which doth surround

A mother's presence to her awe-struck child,

She look'd; a flavor of such bitterness

Was mingled in her pity. There her words

Brake off; and suddenly the angels sang,

“In thee, O gracious Lord! my hope hath been”:

But〖“But.” They sang the thirty-first Psalm, to the end of the eighth verse. What follows would not have suited the place or the occasion.〗 went no further than, “Thou, Lord! hast set

My feet in ample room” As snow, that lies,

Amidst the living rafters on the back

Of Italy, congeal'd, when drifted high

And closely piled by rough Sclavonian blasts;

Breathe but the land whereon no shadow falls,

And straightway melting it distills away,

Like a fire-wasted taper: thus was I,

Without a sigh or tear, or ever these

Did sing, that, with the chiming of Heaven's sphere,

Still in their warbling chime: but when the strain

Of dulcet symphony express'd for me

Their soft compassion, more than could the words,

“Virgin! why so consumest him?” then, the ice

Congeal'd about my bosom, turn'd itself

To spirit and water; and with anguish forth

Gush'd, through the lips and eyelids, from the heart.

Upon the chariot's same edge still she stood,

Immovable; and thus address'd her words

To those bright semblances with pity touch'd:

“Ye in the eternal day your vigils keep;

So that nor night nor slumber, with close stealth,

Conveys from you a single step, in all

The goings on of time: thence, with more heed

I shape mine answer, for his ear intended,

Who there stands weeping; that the sorrow now

May equal the transgression. Not alone

Through operation of the mighty orbs,

That mark each seed to some predestined aim,

As with aspect or fortunate or ill

The constellations meet; but through benign

Largess of heavenly graces, which rain down

From such a height as mocks our vision, this man

Was, in the freshness of his being, such,

So gifted virtually, that in him

All better habits wondrously had thrived

The more of kindly strength is in the soil,

So much doth evil seed and lack of culture

Mar it the more, and make it run to wildness.

These looks sometime upheld him; for I show'd

My youthful eyes, and led him by their light

In upright walking. Soon as I had reach'd

Tee threshold of my second age, and changed

My mortal for immortal; then he left me,

And gave himself to others. When from flesh

To spirit I had risen, and increase

Of beauty and of virtue circled me,

I was less dear to him, and valued less.

His steps were turn'd into deceitful ways,

Following false images of good, that make

No promise perfect. Nor avail'd me aught

To sue for inspirations, with the which,

I, both in dreams of night, and otherwise,

Did call him back; of them, so little reck'd him.

Such depth he fell, that all device was short

Of his preserving, save that he should view

The children of perdition. To this end

I visited the purlieus of the dead:

And one, who hath conducted him thus high,

Received my supplications urged with weeping.

It were a breaking of God's high decree,

If Lethe should be pass'd, and such food〖The oblivion of sins.〗 tasted,

Without the cost of some repentant tear.”

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