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 IX

• Already was old Titan’s concubine
• whitening upon the Orient’s balcony,
• outside the arms of her sweet paramour;
• already was her forehead shining bright
• with gems, arranged according to the shape
• of that cold beast, which smites one with its tail;
• and Night had of the steps wherewith she climbs,
• already taken two where we were then,
• and now the third was lowering its wings;
• when I, who had somewhat of Adam in me,
• o’ercome with sleep, reclined upon the grass,
• on which all five of us were sitting then.

• Near morning, at the hour in which the swallow
• begins to sing her melancholy lays,
• perchance in memory of her earliest woes,
• and when, much more a pilgrim from the flesh,
• and less imprisoned by its thoughts, our mind
• well nigh prophetic in its vision is;
• an Eagle in a dream I seemed to see
• suspended in the sky, with plumes of gold
• and wings outspread, intent on swooping down;

• and it appeared to me that I was where
• his friends were left behind by Ganymede,
• when to the highest council he was raised.

• I thought within myself: “Perhaps this bird
• is wont to strike but here, and from elsewhere,
• perhaps, disdains to lift one with its claws.”
• Then, having wheeled a while, it seemed to me
• that terrible as lightning it came down,
• and bore me up as far as to the fire.
• There it and I both seemed to burn together;
• and so intense was that imagined burning,
• my sleep was broken of necessity.

• Achilles roused himself no differently —
• turning around him his awakened eyes,
• nor knowing in what region he might be,
• when, sleeping in her arms, his mother took him
• away from Chiron to the isle of Scyros,
• from which the Greeks removed him afterwards —
• than I aroused myself, when from my face
• sleep fled away; and death-like pale I turned,
• like one who freezes when o’ercome by fright.
• Only my Comforter was at my side,
• and now the sun was higher than two hours,
• and toward the open sea my face was turned.

• “Be not afraid!” my Lord then said to me.
• “Be reassured, for we are faring well;
• restrain not, but expand thine every power!

• At Purgatory art thou now arrived;
• behold the cliff there, which encloses it;
• behold the entrance where it broken seems.
• Just now, when, in the dawn preceding day,
• thy soul was sleeping in thee on the flowers,
• wherewith the place down yonder is adorned,
• a Lady came and said: ‘I am Lucìa;
• allow me to take up this sleeping man;
• I shall assist him thus upon his way.’
• Sordello and the other noble forms
• remained; she took thee, and when daylight dawned,
• hither came up, and in her foot-prints I.
• She laid thee here; and first her lovely eyes
• revealed to me that opened entrance; then
• both she and sleep together passed away.”

• Like one who, when in doubt, is reassured,
• and into comfort turns his fear, when once
• the truth has been disclosed to him, I changed;
• and when my Leader wholly freed from care
• beheld me, upward o’er the cliff he moved,
• and I behind him followed toward the height.

• Reader, thou surely see’st how I exalt
• my subject; therefore be thou not surprised
• if I support it now with greater art.

• Nearer we drew, and were in such a place,
• that where at first there seemed to be a break,
• just like a fissure that divides a wall,

• I saw a Gate, and under, to approach it,
• three steps of different color each, and then
• a Keeper, who as yet said not a word.
• And as I opened more and more mine eyes,
• I saw him sitting on the upper step,
• such in his face that I endured him not;
• and in his hand he had a naked sword,
• which so reflected upon us its rays,
• that toward him oft I turned my eyes in vain.

• “Say what it is you wish, from where you are,”
• he then began, “and where your escort is.
• Beware lest coming up should do you harm.”

• “A heavenly Lady, of these things aware,”
• my Teacher answered him, “said unto us
• just now: ‘Go thither, yonder is the Gate.’”

• “And unto good may she advance your steps!”
• the courteous Keeper of the Gate resumed,
• “Come forward, therefore, unto these our stairs.”

• Made of white marble was the first great step
• to which we came, so polished and so smooth,
• I mirrored me therein as I appear.
• The second step, darker than purple-black,
• was of a rough and calcined kind of stone,
• cracked lengthwise and across. The third, which rests
• in massive shape above it, seemed to me
• to be of porphyry as flaming red,
• as blood appears when spurting from a vein.

• Upon this last God’s Angel held both feet,
• sitting upon the threshold, which to me
• appeared to be a rock of adamant.

• Up over those three steps my Leader then
• drew me along with my good will, and said:
• “Humbly request him to undo the lock.”
• Devoutly at his holy feet I cast me;
• I begged that of his mercy he would open,
• but first I smote upon my breast three times.

• Then with his sword’s sharp point he traced seven P’s
• upon my brow, and told me: “See thou to it,
• that, when inside, thou wash away these wounds!”

• Ashes, or earth when excavated dry,
• would with his garment of one color be;
• and from beneath it he drew forth two Keys.
• One was of gold, the other silver was;
• first with the white, and after with the yellow,
• he so did to the Gate that I was pleased.

• “Whenever one of these Keys faileth so,
• that in the lock it doth not rightly turn,”
• said he to us, “this passage opens not.
• More precious is the first; and yet the other,
• ere it unlock, much skill and judgment needs,
• for it is that one which unties the knot.
• Peter, from whom I hold them, bade me err
• rather in opening, than in keeping closed,
• provided folk fell prostrate at my feet.”

• He pushed the holy Portal’s door thereat,
• and said to us: “Go in; but I inform you
• that he who looks behind returns outside.”
• And when that sacred Gateway’s folding doors,
• which were of strong resounding metal made,
• were on their iron hinges turned around,
• Tarpeia roared not so, nor proved so shrill,
• when good Metellus was removed from her,
• because of which she afterwards kept lean.

• I turned to heed its first resounding tones,
• and “Thee we praise, O Lord” I seemed to hear
• in voices mixed with those delightful sounds.
• What I was hearing made upon me then
• just the impression one is wont to get,
• when people with an organ sing; for now
• the words are heard, and now again are not.