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 XI

• “Our Father, Thou that in the Heavens dost dwell,
• not circumscribed, but for the greater love
• Thou hast for what Thou madest first on high;
• let both Thy Name and Worth be given praise
• by every creature, ev’n as it is meet
• that to Thy loving Spirit thanks be given!
• And may Thy Kingdom’s Peace come down to us,
• since we can not attain it of ourselves,
• for all our striving, save it also come!
• As gladly of their wills Thine Angels make
• a sacrifice to Thee, singing ‘All Hail!’,
• so likewise gladly may men do with theirs!
• Give us this day our daily spirit-food,
• without which, through this bitter wilderness,
• he backward goes, who onward toileth most!
• And as we pardon every one the wrong
• we ’ve suffered, of Thy Mercy do Thou us
• forgive, regarding not what we deserve!
• Our virtue which is easily o’ercome,
• test Thou not through our ancient Enemy,
• but set us free from him, who tempts it so!

• This last request, dear Lord, is not, indeed,
• made for ourselves, who need not make it here,
• but is for their sake who behind us stayed.”

• Thus praying good speed for themselves and us,
• those shades beneath a burden went their way,
• not unlike that whereof one dreams at times,
• unequally tormented, all of them,
• and weary, o’er the first ring, round and round,
• purging away the world’s defiling mists.

• If good things there be always said for us,
• what can be said and done on their behalf
• down here, by those whose will is rooted well?
• Surely one ought to help them wash away
• the stains they brought with them, that they may issue,
• cleansed and unburdened, to the starry spheres.

• “Pray, so may pity and Justice speedily
• unburden you, that ye may move your wings,
• and raise yourselves according to your wish,
• show us on which hand lies the shortest way
• to reach the stairs; and, be there more than one,
• teach us the pass that hath the gentlest slope;
• for, owing to the load of Adam’s flesh,
• which clothes his spirit, he who with me comes
• is slow in climbing, though against his will.”

• As to the words, which in reply they said
• to those which he, whom I was following, spoke,
• it was not evident from whom they came;

• but this was said: “Come with us on the right
• along the bank, and ye shall find the pass,
• which may be climbed by one that’s still alive.
• And were I not prevented by the stone,
• which tames my haughty neck, and forces me
• to keep my face bowed down, at this man here,
• who liveth still and telleth not his name,
• I ’d look, to see if he is one I know,
• and stir his pity for this heavy load.
• Latin I was, and born to a great Tuscan;
• Guglielmo Aldobrandesco was my father;
• I know not if you ever knew his name.
• My forebears’ ancient blood and noble deeds
• caused me to be so arrogant, that I,
• unmindful of our common mother, earth,
• held every man in scorn to such extent,
• I died for it, as well knows Siena’s folk,
• and every child in Campagnàtico.
• I am Omberto; nor to me alone
• doth this work ill, for pride hath with itself
• drawn all my kin into calamity.
• And here, for this, must I needs bear this load
• among the dead, till God be satisfied,
• since I among the living bore it not.”

• Listening, I bowed my face; and one of them,
• not he who had been speaking, writhed around
• under the burden which was hampering him;

• and, having seen and recognized me, called,
• and kept his eyes with effort fixed on me,
• who, as I went along with them, was stooping.

• Then “Oh!” said I, “Art thou not Oderisi,
• the glory of Agobbio and the art,
• which is in Paris called ‘illuminating’?”

• “Brother,” said he, “more smiling are the parchments
• which Franco Bolognese paints; the glory
• is now all his and only partly mine.
• Because of that great longing to excel,
• whereon my heart was set, I certainly
• would not have been so courteous while I lived.
• Here is the forfeit paid for pride like this;
• nor should I be here yet, had it not been
• that, while I still could sin, I turned to God.
• O empty glory of our human powers,
• how short a time green lasts upon its top,
• unless uncultured ages overtake it!
• Once Cimabùe thought that he would hold
• the field in painting, yet the cry is all
• for Giotto now, hence that one’s fame is dark.
• Thus hath one Guido taken from the other
• the glory of our tongue; and he is born,
• perhaps, who from the nest will banish both.
• Worldly repute is but a breath of wind,
• which cometh now from here, and now from there,
• and shifts its name, because its quarter shifts.

• What greater fame shalt thou have — if when old
• thou quit thy flesh, than hadst thou died ere ‘pap’
• and ‘chink’ were dropped, — a thousand years from now?
• For that, if to eternity compared,
• is shorter than the twinkling of an eye
• is to the sky’s most slowly moving sphere.
• All Tuscany proclaimed the fame of him,
• who walks so slowly on the road before me;
• yet hardly is a whisper of him left
• in Siena now, whose governor he was,
• what time the rage of Florence was destroyed,
• which then as haughty was, as abject now.
• Your worldly fame is like the hue of grass,
• which comes and goes, and he discolors it,
• through whom it springs up tender from the ground.”

• And I: “Thy true speech heart’ning me with good
• humility, thou prickst my swollen pride;
• but who is he of whom thou spok’st just now?

• “That” he replied, “is Provenzàn Salvani;
• and here he is, because presumptuously
• he brought all Siena under his control.
• Thus hath he gone, and without rest he goes,
• e’er since he died; who yonder dares too much,
• in satisfaction pays such coin as this.”

• And I then: “If the spirit who delays,
• before repenting, till the verge of life,
• abides below, and cometh not up here,

• unless good prayers assist him, till as long
• a time be passed as he had been alive,
• wherefore hath this man’s coming been vouchsafed?”

• “When in his greatest glory,” he replied,
• “all shame removed, he freely took his stand
• in Siena’s Campo;
• and there, to free a friend
• suffering in Charles’ prison, he brought himself
• to quake in every vein. I ’ll say no more,
• and know that what I say is darkly spoken;
• but so, ere long, will thine own neighbors act,
• that thou ’lt be able to interpret it.
• This deed of his relieved him from those bounds.”