Purgatorio (15 page)
Authors: Dante
There the humble psalmist leaped in dance
before the blessèd vessel with his robe hitched up—
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and was at once both more and less than king.
Opposite, a figure at the window
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of a splendid palace, Michal looked on,
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like a woman vexed and scornful.
I moved some steps from where I stood
to look more closely at another story
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that I saw gleaming white beyond Michal.
I speak of the emperor Trajan,
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with the poor widow at his bridle, weeping,
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revealed in her state of grief—
the soil all trampled by the thronging knights.
Above, the eagles fixed in gold
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seemed to flutter in the wind.
In their midst, one could almost hear the plea
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of that unhappy creature: ‘My lord, avenge
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my murdered son for me. It is for him I grieve,’
and his answer: ‘Wait till I return,’
and she: ‘My lord,’ like one whose grief is urgent,
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‘and if you don’t return?’ and his answer:
‘He who will take my place will do it,’
and she: ‘What use to you is another’s goodness
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if you are unmindful of your own?’
And he then: ‘Now take comfort, for I must discharge
my debt to you before I go to war.
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Justice wills it and compassion bids me stay.’
He in whose sight nothing can be new
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wrought this speech made visible,
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new to us because it is not found on earth.
While I took pleasure in the sight
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of images of such humility,
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the lovelier to look at for their maker’s sake,
‘Here they come, though with slow steps,’
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the poet murmured.
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‘They will direct us to the next ascent.’
My eyes, glad to gaze upon the marble,
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quickly turned in his direction,
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eager at the promise of new things.
Reader, I would not have you fall away
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from good intentions when you hear
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the way God wills the debt be paid.
Do not dwell upon the nature of the suffering.
Think what is to follow, think that at the worst
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it cannot last beyond the final Judgment.
‘Master,’ I began, ‘those that I see
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moving toward us do not look like people—
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whatever they may be, I cannot make them out.’
And he answered: ‘The grave nature
of their torment contorts their bodies to a crouch,
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so that at first my eyes were undecided.
‘But look closer, disentangle
the figures bent beneath them from the stones.
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Then you can see how each one beats his breast.’
O vainglorious Christians, miserable wretches!
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Sick in the visions engendered in your minds,
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you put your trust in backward steps.
Do you not see that we are born as worms,
though able to transform into angelic butterflies
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that unimpeded soar to justice?
What makes your mind rear up so high?
You are, as it were, defective creatures,
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like the unformed worm, shaped from the mud.
To hold up roof or ceiling, as a corbel does,
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we sometimes see a crouching figure,
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its knees pushed up against its chest,
and that unreal depiction may arouse
in him who sees it real distress,
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such were these shapes when I could make them out.
They were indeed hunched over more or less,
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depending on the burdens on their backs,
and even he that showed the greatest patience,
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weeping, seemed to say: ‘I can no more.’
III. The penitent prideful
(continued)
IV. The penitent prideful tell their former sins
offers his tale
Oderisi da Gubbio,
illuminator
Provenzan Salvani
’s presumption
‘Our Father, who are in Heaven,
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circumscribed only by the greater love
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you have for your first works on high,
‘praised be your name and power
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by every creature, as is fitting
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to render thanks for your sweet breath.
‘May the peace of your kingdom come to us,
for we cannot attain it of ourselves
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if it come not, for all our striving.
‘As your angels make sacrifice to you
of their free wills, singing
hosanna
,
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so let men make an offering of theirs.
‘Give us this day the daily manna
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without which he who labors to advance
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goes backward through this bitter wilderness.
‘And, as we forgive those who have wronged us,
do you forgive us in your loving kindness—
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measure us not as we deserve.
‘Do not put to proof our powers,
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which yield so lightly to the ancient foe,
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but deliver us from him who tempts them.
‘This last petition, our dear Lord, is made
not for ourselves—for us there is no need—
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but for the ones whom we have left behind.’
Thus praying for safe haven for themselves and us,
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those shades trudged on beneath their burden,
as they, unequally distressed,
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plodded their weary round on that first ledge,
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purging away the darkness of the world.
If good is always said of us up there,
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what can be said and done for them on earth
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by those whose wills have roots in good?
Surely we should help them wash away the stains
they carried with them, so that pure and light
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they may approach the star-hung spheres.
‘Please, so may justice and mercy soon
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unburden you and give you wings
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to lift you up as high as you desire,
‘show us the shortest crossing to the stairs,
and if there is more than one ascent,
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let us know where the drop is not so steep,
‘for he that comes along with me,
burdened with the weight of Adam’s flesh,
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though eager to ascend, is slow at climbing.’
