The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• The Peace of God
• Preface
• Purgatorio I
• Purgatorio Ii
• Purgatorio Iii
• Purgatorio Iv
• Purgatorio V
• Purgatorio Vi
• Purgatorio Vii
• Purgatorio Viii
• Purgatorio Ix
• Purgatorio X
• Purgatorio Xi
• Purgatorio Xii
• Purgatorio Xiii
• Purgatorio Xiv
• Purgatorio Xv
• Purgatorio Xvi
• Purgatorio Xvii
• Purgatorio Xviii
• Purgatorio Xix
• Purgatorio Xx
• Purgatorio Xxi
• Purgatorio Xxii
• Purgatorio Xxiii
• Purgatorio Xxiv
• Purgatorio Xxv
• Purgatorio Xxvi
• Purgatorio Xxvii
• Purgatorio Xxviii
• Purgatory Xxix
• Purgatorio Xxx
• Purgatorio Xxxi
• Purgatorio Xxxii
• Purgatorio Xxxiii

PURGATORIO VIII

• ’T was now the hour, which homeward turns the longing,
• and melts the heart of those that sail the sea,
• the day they ’ve said goodbye to tender friends;
• and thrills with love the pilgrim newly sped,
• if from afar he hear a tolling bell,
• that seems to mourn the slowly dying day;
• when I began to render hearing vain,
• and of those souls watch one who, risen up,
• was asking for attention with his hand.
• He joined his palms, and raising them on high,
• turned toward the East his eyes with steadfast gaze,
• as if to God he said: “I heed naught else.”

• “Ere daylight fadeth” issued from his mouth
• with such devoutness, and with notes so sweet,
• that I was made unmindful of myself.
• Thereat the others, sweetly and devoutly
• followed that soul, and sang the whole hymn through,
• fixing their gaze upon the spheres above.

• Sharpen thine eyes here, Reader, for the truth;
• for now its veil is certainly so thin,
• that easy is the passage into it.

• I saw that army of the gentle-born
• gazing on high in silence after this,
• as if in expectation, pale and meek;
• and, issuing from above, and coming down,
• two Angels with two fiery swords I saw,
• which, broken off, were of their points deprived.
• As green they were, as little new-born leaves,
• and clothed with garments which, behind them trailed,
• were stroked and fanned by verdant plumes. One came
• and poised somewhat above us, while the other
• alighted on the hillside opposite,
• so that the people there remained between.
• I well perceived that golden was their hair;
• but on their faces vision went astray,
• as would a power confounded by excess.

• “From Mary’s bosom both of them are come”
• Sordello said, “to guard this sheltered vale
• against the Serpent, which will soon arrive.”

• Hence I, who knew not by what path, turned round,
• chilled through with fear, and to the trusted shoulders
• drew closely back. Sordello thereupon
• began: “And now among the mighty shades
• let us descend, and we will speak with them;
• greatly will they be pleased to see you here.”

• Only three steps, I think, did I go down,
• and was below; then one I saw, who looked
• at me alone, as if he wished to know me.

• The air had for some time been growing dark
• but not so much as, ’tween his eyes and mine,
• not to reveal what it concealed before.
• Toward me he came, and I toward him advanced.
• Noble Judge Nino, when I saw that not
• among the damned thou wast, how glad I was!
• No greetings fair were left unsaid between us;
• and then he asked: “How long ago didst thou
• o’er the far waters reach the Mountain’s foot?”

• “Oh!” I exclaimed, “across the fields of woe
• I came this morn, and in the first life am,
• though by thus going, I’ll the other win.”

• When once my answer had been heard, Sordello
• and he drew back, like people suddenly
• perplexed. The first to Virgil turned, the other,
• to one who there was seated, crying out:
• “Get up, Corrado! Come and see what God
• hath as a favor willed.”

• Then, turned toward me:
• “By that rare gratitude thou owest Him,
• who hides His primal Why in such a way,
• that there ’s no fording it; when thou art past
• the wide waves, ask my Joan to pray for me
• where to the innocent replies are given.
• I think her mother loves me now no more,
• for those white wimples hath she laid aside,
• which she, poor soul, must needs want back again.

• Through her one understands with greatest ease
• how long the fire of love in woman lasts,
• unless rekindled oft by sight and touch.
• The Viper which conducts the Milanese
• afield, will never make as beautiful
• a tomb for her, as would Gallura’s Cock.”

• These were the words he used, his countenance
• marked with the impress of that righteous zeal,
• which burneth in the heart with temperate flame.
• My greedy eyes now sought the sky alone,
• and only there, where slowest are the stars,
• as, nearest to its axle, is a wheel.

• My Leader then: “What art thou looking at
• up there, my son?” And I: “At those three torches,
• wherewith the pole on this side wholly burns.”

• Then he: “The four bright stars which thou this morn
• didst see, are low down on the other side;
• and these have risen there, where those were then.”

• While he was speaking thus, Sordello drew him
• aside, and saying: “Yonder see our foe!”
• lifted his finger up, to have him look.

• On that side where the little hollowed vale
• hath no defense, a Snake there was like that,
• perhaps, which gave the bitter fruit to Eve.
• On through the grass and flowers the wicked reptile
• glided, and, turning back its head at times,
• was licking like a beast that smoothes itself.

• I did not see, and therefore cannot tell,
• how the celestial Falcons ’gan to move,
• but both I clearly saw, when once in motion.
• When cleft by their green wings it heard the air,
• the Serpent fled, and back the Angels turning,
• regained their posts above with equal flight.

• The shade who, when he called him, to the Judge
• had closely drawn, throughout the whole assault
• had not one moment loosed his gaze from me.

• “So may the lantern leading thee above,
• find in thy will the wax that is required
• for one to reach the enamelled green on high;”
• he thus began, “if thou of Valdimagra,
• or of its neighboring land, dost know true news,
• tell it to me, who once was mighty there.
• Corrado Malaspina I was called;
• I ’m not the elder, but from him descended;
• I bore my race the love which here is cleansed.”

• “Oh!” said I then to him, “I ’ve never been
• in your domains, but where throughout all Europe
• dwelleth a man who knows them not? The fame
• which honoreth your house, proclaims its lords,
• proclaims its district, so that even he
• knows of them, who hath never been there yet.
• I swear to you, so may I go on high,
• that of the glorious use of purse and sword
• your honored race doth not despoil itself.

• Nature and use so favor it, that, howe’er
• the guilty Head distort the world, alone
• it goeth straight, and scorns the evil path.”

• And he: “Now go, for lo, the sun shall not
• seven times on that bed rest him, which the Ram
• now covers, and with all four feet bestrides,
• ere this thy courteously expressed opinion
• shall in the middle of thy head be nailed
• with greater nails than words of other men,
• unless the course of doom decreed be stayed.”