Purgatorio: Canto VI

Ante-Purgatory.—More spirits who had deferred repentance till they were overtaken by a violent death.—Efficacy of prayer.—Sordello.—Apostrophe to Italy.

When a game of dice is broken up, he who loses remains sorrowful, repeating the throws, and, saddened, learns; with the other all the folk go along; one goes before and one plucks him from behind, and at his side one brings himself to mind. He does not stop; listens to one and the other the man to whom he reaches forth his hand presses on him no longer, and thus from the throng he defends himself. Such was I in that dense crowd, turning my face to them this way and that; and, promising, I loosed myself from them.

Here was the Aretine, who from the fierce arms of Ghin di Tacco had his death; and the other who was drowned when running in pursuit. Here Federigo Novello was praying with hands outstretched, and he of Pisa, who made the good Marzucco seem strong. I saw Count Orso; and the soul divided from its body by spite and by envy, as it said, and not for fault committed, Pierre do la Brosse, I mean; and here let the Lady of Brabant take forethought, while she is on earth, so that for this she be not of the worse flock.

When I was free from each and all those shades who prayed only that some one else should pray, so that their becoming holy may be speeded, I began, “It seems that thou deniest to me, O Light of mine, expressly, in a certain text, that orison can bend decree of Heaven, and this folk pray only for this,—shall then their hope be vain? or is thy saying not rightly clear to me?

And he to me, “My writing is plain, and the hope of these is not fallacious, if well it is regarded with sound mind; for top of judgment vails not itself because a fire of love may, in one instant, fulfil that which he who is stationed here must satisfy. And there where I affirmed this proposition, defect was not amended by a prayer, because the prayer was disjoined from God. But truly in regard to so deep a doubt decide thou not, unless she tell thee who shall be a light between the truth and the understanding. I know not if thou understandest; I speak of Beatrice. Thou shalt see her above, smiling and happy, upon the summit of this mountain.”

And I, “My lord, let us go on with greater speed, for now I mu not weary as before; and behold now how the bill casts its shadow.” “We will go forward with this day,” he answered, “as much further as we shall yet be able; but the fact is of other form than thou supposest. Before thou art there-above thou wilt see him return, who is now hidden by the hill-side so that thou dost not make his rays to break. But see there a soul which seated all alone is looking toward us; it will point out to us the speediest way.” We came to it. O Lombard soul, how lofty and scornful wast thou; and in the movement of thine eyes grave and slow! It said not anything to us, but let us go on, looking only in manner of a lion when he couches. Virgil, however, drew near to it, praying that it would show to us the best ascent; and it answered not to his request, but of our country and life it asked us. And the sweet Leader began, “Mantua,”—and the shade, all in itself recluse, rose toward him from the place where erst it was, saying, “O Mantuan, I am Sordello of thy city,”—and they embraced each other.

Ah, servile Italy, hostel of grief! ship without pilot in great tempest! not lady of provinces, but a brothel! that gentle soul was so ready, only at the sweet sound of his native land, to give glad welcome here unto his fellow-citizen: and now in thee thy living men exist not without war, and of those whom one wall and one moat shut in one doth gnaw the other. Search, wretched one, around the shores, thy seaboard, and then look within thy bosom, if any part in thee enjoyeth peace! What avails it that for thee Justinian should mend the bridle, if the saddle be empty? Without this, the shame would be less. Ah folk, that oughtest to be devout and let Caesar sit in the saddle, if thou rightly understandest what God notes for thee! Look how fell this wild beast has become, through not being corrected by the spurs, since thou didst put thy hand upon the bridle. O German Albert, who abandonest her who has become untamed and savage, and oughtest to bestride her saddle-bows, may a just judgment from the stars fall upon thy blood, and may it be strange and manifest, so that thy successor may have fear of it! For thou and thy father, retained up there by greed, have suffered the garden of the empire to become desert. Come thou to see Montecchi and Cappelletti, Monaldi and Filippeschi, thou man without care: those already wretched, and these in dread. Come, cruel one, come, and see the distress of thy nobility, and cure their hurts; and thou shalt see Santafiora how safe it is. Come to see thy Rome, that weeps, widowed and alone, and day and night cries, “My Caesar, wherefore dost thou not keep me company?” Come to see the people, how loving it is; and, if no pity for us move thee, come to be shamed by thine own renown! And if it be lawful for me, O Supreme Jove that wast on earth crucified for us, are thy just eyes turned aside elsewhere? Or is it preparation, that in the abyss of thy counsel thou art making for some good utterly cut off from our perception? For the cities of Italy are all full of tyrants, and every churl that comes playing the partisan becomes a Marcellus?

My Florence! surely thou mayst be content with this digression, which toucheth thee not, thanks to thy people that for itself takes heed. Many have justice at heart but shoot slowly, in order not to come without counsel to the bow; but thy people has it on the edge of its lips. Many reject the common burden, but thy people, eager, replies without being called on, and cries, “I load myself.” Now be thou glad, for thou hast truly wherefore: thou rich, thou in peace, thou wise. If I speak the truth, the result hides it not. Athens and Lacedaemon, that made the ancient laws and were so civilized, made toward living well a little sign, compared with thee that makest such finespun provisions, that to mid November reaches not, what thou in October spinnest. How often in the time that thou rememberest, law, money, office, and custom, hast thou changed, and renewed thy members! And if thou mind thee well and see the light, thou wilt see thyself resembling a sick woman, who cannot find repose upon the feathers, but with her tossing seeks to relieve her pain.