The Divine Comedy by Dante, Illustrated, Purgatory, Complete. Dante Alighieri

Far as the stream of Verde, where, with lights

       Extinguish'd, he remov'd them from their bed.

       Yet by their curse we are not so destroy'd,

       But that the eternal love may turn, while hope

       Retains her verdant blossoms. True it is,

       That such one as in contumacy dies

       Against the holy church, though he repent,

       Must wander thirty-fold for all the time

       In his presumption past; if such decree

       Be not by prayers of good men shorter made

       Look therefore if thou canst advance my bliss;

       Revealing to my good Costanza, how

       Thou hast beheld me, and beside the terms

       Laid on me of that interdict; for here

       By means of those below much profit comes."

CANTO IV

       Table of Contents

       When by sensations of delight or pain,

       That any of our faculties hath seiz'd,

       Entire the soul collects herself, it seems

       She is intent upon that power alone,

       And thus the error is disprov'd which holds

       The soul not singly lighted in the breast.

       And therefore when as aught is heard or seen,

       That firmly keeps the soul toward it turn'd,

       Time passes, and a man perceives it not.

       For that, whereby he hearken, is one power,

       Another that, which the whole spirit hash;

       This is as it were bound, while that is free.

       This found I true by proof, hearing that spirit

       And wond'ring; for full fifty steps aloft

       The sun had measur'd unobserv'd of me,

       When we arriv'd where all with one accord

       The spirits shouted, "Here is what ye ask."

       A larger aperture ofttimes is stopp'd

       With forked stake of thorn by villager,

       When the ripe grape imbrowns, than was the path,

       By which my guide, and I behind him close,

       Ascended solitary, when that troop

       Departing left us. On Sanleo's road

       Who journeys, or to Noli low descends,

       Or mounts Bismantua's height, must use his feet;

       But here a man had need to fly, I mean

       With the swift wing and plumes of high desire,

       Conducted by his aid, who gave me hope,

       And with light furnish'd to direct my way.

       ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE

       We through the broken rock ascended, close

       Pent on each side, while underneath the ground

       Ask'd help of hands and feet. When we arriv'd

       Near on the highest ridge of 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 now 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