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

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.

       ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE

       "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

       Table of Contents

       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, by turns.

       "Why are thy thoughts thus riveted?" my guide

       Exclaim'd, "that thou hast slack'd thy pace? or how

       Imports it thee, what thing is whisper'd here?

       Come after me, and to their babblings leave

       The crowd. Be as a tower, that, firmly set,

       Shakes not its top for any blast that blows!

       He, in whose bosom thought on thought shoots out,

       Still of his aim is wide, in that the one

       Sicklies and wastes to nought the other's strength."

       What other could I answer save "I come?"

       I said it, somewhat with that colour ting'd

       Which ofttimes pardon meriteth for man.

       Meanwhile traverse along the 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.

       ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE

       "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!