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 XXXII

• So steadfast were mine eyes and so intent
• on gratifying their decennial thirst,
• that all my other senses were asleep;
• and both on this side and on that a wall
• of heedlessness they had, the holy smile
• so strongly drew them with the olden net;
• when forcibly my face was toward my left
• turned by those Goddesses, for from their lips
• I now was hearing a “Too steadfastly!”
• Thereat the state of vision which exists
• in eyes but newly smitten by the sun,
• caused me to be awhile deprived of sight.

• But when my eyes were to the small accustomed,
• (I say ‘the small’ with reference to the great
• resplendence, whence perforce I turned away,)
• I saw that on the right the glorious host
• had wheeled, and was returning with the sun
• and with the sevenfold flame in front of it.

• As, to protect itself, a troop revolves
• beneath its shields, and wheeleth with its flag,
• before the whole of it can change direction;

• even so the heavenly Kingdom’s soldiery
• who forward were, had wholly passed us by,
• before its pole had made the Chariot turn.
• Back to the wheel the Ladies then returned;
• and so the Griffon drew His blessèd burden,
• that, though He moved, no feather of him shook.

• The Lady fair, who through the ford had drawn me,
• Statius and I, were following the wheel
• which made its orbit with the smaller arc.
• As thus we crossed the lofty wood, unpeopled
• because of her who trusted to the Serpent,
• a song angelic kept our steps in time.

• A liberated arrow in three flights,
• perhaps, as great a distance would have gone,
• as we had moved, when Beatrice alighted.
• “Adam!” I then heard murmured by them all;
• they circled then around a Tree, despoiled
• of flowers and other leaves on every branch.
• Its crowning boughs, spread out in greater width,
• the higher up they are, would for their height
• be wondered at by Indians in their woods.

• “Thou, Griffon, happy art, since with Thy beak
• Thou tearest not this pleasant tasting wood,
• because one’s belly writhes in pain therewith.”
• Thus round the sturdy Tree the others cried;
• whereat the Double-natured Animal:
• “Thus is the seed of all just deeds preserved.”

• Then, turning toward the pole which He had drawn,
• He dragged it forward to the widowed Tree,
• and ’neath it left that part of it tied up.

• As our plants swell, when falls the great light, mixed
• with that which shines behind the heavenly Carp,
• and as each thereupon renews itself
• in its own color, ere the sun yokes up
• his racing horses ’neath another star;
• even so, a hue revealing, not as bright
• as that which roses have, and more than that
• of violets, that Tree renewed itself,
• whose branches once had been so bare of leaves.

• I understood not (’t is not sung on earth,)
• the hymn which thereupon that people sang,
• nor did I bear to hear the whole song through.

• If I could picture how the unpitying eyes,
• on hearing Syrinx’ story, sleepy grew,
• the eyes to which much waking cost so dear;
• as doth an artist who from models paints,
• would I describe how I then fell asleep;
• but let whoever will, feign sleeping well.
• Hence to the point I pass, when I awoke;
• and say a splendor rent my slumber’s veil,
• and then a call: “Arise! What doest thou?”

• As Peter, John and James were led to see
• some of the early blossoms of the apple,
• which makes the Angels eager for its fruit,

• and causes endless marriage-feasts in Heaven;
• and, overcome, recovered at the word
• whereby far greater slumbers had been broken;
• and even as they perceived their company
• diminished both by Moses and Elias,
• and all the raiment of their Master changed;
• so I, recovering, near me standing saw
• that pitying Lady who before had been
• the leader of my steps along the stream.

• “But where is Beatrice?” all lost in doubt
• I said. Whence she: “Behold her sitting there,
• beneath the Tree’s new leaves, upon its roots.
• Behold the company surrounding her;
• the rest on high behind the Griffon go,
• with songs of sweeter sound and deeper theme.”

• I know not if at greater length her words
• were poured, because now in mine eyes was she,
• who hindered my attending to aught else.
• On the bare ground she sat, and all alone,
• left there to be the guardian of the Car
• I saw the Biformed Animal tie up.
• Circling, the seven Nymphs with their persons formed
• a hedge for her, those lights held in their hands,
• which safe from Auster are and Aquilo.

• “Here for a while shalt thou a woodman be;
• then without end with me a citizen
• of that Rome, whereof Christ a Roman is.

• Hence, for the world’s sake, which lives badly, keep
• thine eyes upon the Car, and what thou see’st
• be sure to write, when once on earth again.”

• Thus Beatrice; and I, who now was wholly
• devoted at the feet of her commands,
• whither she wished turned both my mind and eyes.

• Fire ne’er descended with so swift a motion
• out of dense clouds, when from the highest region
• the rain is falling, as I now beheld
• the bird of Jove swoop down upon the Tree,
• and break not only its new budding leaves
• and blossoms, but its bark; with all his might
• he smote the Chariot next; whereat it reeled,
• as in a storm a ship, when by the waves
• to starboard now, and now to larboard driven.

• And then a she-Fox which from all good food
• seemed fasting, I perceived, hurling herself
• against the bottom of the triumph-Car;
• but, for her ugly sins upbraiding her,
• my Lady put her to such speedy flight
• as was permitted by her fleshless bones.

• Thereafter, whence it first had come, I saw
• the Eagle down into the Chariot’s ark
• descend, and leave it feathered with his plumes;
• and such a voice as from a suffering heart
• comes forth, was that which came from Heaven, and said:
• “My little Ship, how badly thou art laden!”

• Between both wheels the earth seemed opened then,
• and forth from it I saw a Dragon come,
• who upward through the Chariot thrust his tail;
• and like a wasp which draweth back its sting,
• withdrawing his bad tail, he drew away
• part of its floor, and, keen for more, went off.
• That which remained reclothed itself again,
• as rich soil doth with grasses, with the plumes,
• offered, perhaps, with wise and kind intent;
• then one wheel and the other and the pole
• were covered up so quickly, that a mouth
• is open kept much longer by a sigh.

• When thus the holy Structure was transformed,
• it put forth heads upon its members, three
• upon its pole, and at each corner one.
• The first were horned like oxen, but the four
• had on their foreheads but a single horn;
• never had such a monster yet been seen.

• Sitting thereon, as boldly as a fort
• is seated on a lofty mountain-top,
• a shameless Prostitute appeared before me,
• with eyebrows that were quick to wander round;
• and then, to see that none should take her from him,
• I saw a Giant standing at her side;
• at times they kissed each other there; but since
• she turned her greedy, fickle eyes on me,
• that cruel lover scourged her from her head

• unto her soles. Then, filled with jealousy,
• and cruel in his wrath, loosing the Monster,
• he dragged it through the wood so far away,
• that with this last alone he shielded me
• against the Harlot and unnatural Beast.