Purgatorio: Canto XIX

Fourth Ledge: the Slothful—Dante dreams of the Siren.—The Angel of the Pass.—Ascent to the Fifth Ledge.—Pope Adrian V.

At the hour when the diurnal heat, vanquished by the Earth or sometimes by Saturn, can warm no more the coldness of the moon,—when the geomancers see their Greater Fortune in the east, rising before the dawn along a path which short while stays dark for it,—there came to me in dream a woman stammering, with eyes asquint, and crooked on her feet, with hands lopped off, and pallid in her color. I gazed at her; and as the sun comforts the cold limbs which the night bennmbs, so my look made her tongue nimble, and then set her wholly straight in little while, and so colored her wan face as love requires. Then, when she had her speech thus unloosed, she began to sing, so that with difficulty should I have turned my attention from her. “I am,” she sang, “I am the sweet Siren, and the mariners in mid sea I bewitch, so full am I of pleasantness to hear. I turned Ulysses from his wandering way by my song; and whoso abides with me seldom departs, so wholly I content him.”

Not yet was her mouth closed when at my side a Lady appeared, holy, and ready to make her confused. “O Virgil, Virgil, who is this?” she sternly said; and he came with his eyes fixed only on that modest one. She took hold of the other, and in front she opened her, rending her garments, and showed me her belly; this waked me with the stench that issued from it. I turned my eyes, and the good Virgil said, “At least three calls have I given thee; arise and come; let us find the opening through which thou mayst enter.”

Up I rose, and now were all the circles of the sacred mountain full of the high day, and we went on with the new sun at our backs. Following him, I bore my forehead like one who has it laden with thought, and makes of himself the half arch of a bridge, when I heard, “Come ye! here is the passage,” spoken in a mode soft and benign, such as is not heard in this mortal region. With open wings, which seemed of a swan, he who thus had spoken to us turned us upward between the two walls of the hard rock. He moved his feathers then, and fanned us, affirming qui lugent to be blessed, for they shall have their souls mistresses of consolation. “What ails thee that ever on the ground thou lookest?” my Guide began to say to me, both of us having mounted up a little from the Angel. “With such apprehension a recent vision makes me go, which bends me to itself so that I cannot from the thought withdraw me.” “Hast thou seen,” said he, “that ancient sorceress who above us henceforth is alone lamented? Hast thou seen how from her man is unbound? Let it suffice thee, and strike thy heels on the ground; turn thine eyes to the lure that the eternal King whirls with the great circles.”

Like the falcon that first looks down, then turns at the cry, and stretches forward, through desire of the food that draws him thither; such I became, and such, so far as the rock is cleft to afford a way to him who goeth up, did I go on as far as where the circling is begun. When I was come forth on the fifth round, I saw people upon it who were weeping, lying upon the earth all turned downward. “Adhoesit pavimento anima mea,” I heard them saying with such deep sighs that the words were hardly understood. “O elect of God, whose sufferings both justice and hope make less hard, direct us toward the high ascents.” “If ye come secure from the lying down, and wish to find the speediest way, let your right hands always be outside.” So prayed the Poet, and so a little in front was replied to us by them; wherefore I, in his speaking, marked the hidden one; and then turned my eyes to my Lord, whereon he granted me, with cheerful sign, that which the look of my desire was asking for. Then when I could do with myself according to my will, I drew me above that creature whose words had first made me note him, saying, “Spirit in whom weeping matures that without which no one can turn to God, suspend a little for me thy greater care. Tell me who thou wast; and why ye have your backs turned upward; and if thou wishest that I obtain aught for thee there whence I alive set forth.” And he to me, “Thy heaven turns to itself our hinder parts thou shalt know; but first, scias quod ego fui successor Petri. Between Sestri and Chiaveri descends a beautiful stream, and of its name the title of my race makes its top. One month and little more I proved how the great mantle weighs on him who guards it from the mire, so that all other burdens seem a feather. My conversion, ah me! was tardy; but when I had become the Roman Shepherd, then I found out the lying life. I saw that there the heart was not at rest; nor was it possible to, mount higher in that life; wherefore the love of this was kindled in me. Up to that time a wretched soul and parted from God had I been, avaricious of everything; now, as thou seest, I am punished for it here. That which avarice doth is displayed here in the purgation of these converted souls, and the Mountain has no more bitter penalty. Even as our eye, fixed upon earthly things, was not lifted on high, so justice here to earth has depressed it. As avarice, in which labor is lost, quenched our love for every good, so justice here holds us close, bound and captive in feet and hands; and, so long as it shall be the pleasure of the just Lord, so long shall we stay immovable and outstretched.”

I had knelt down and wished to speak; but when I began, and he became aware, only by listening, of my reverence, “What cause,” said he, “hath bent thee thus downward?” And I to him, “Because of your dignity my conscience stung me for standing.” “Straighten thy legs, and lift thee up, brother,” he replied; “err not, fellow servant of one power am I with thee and with the rest. If ever thou hast understood that holy gospel sound which says neque nubent, thou mayst well see why I speak thus. Now go thy way. I will not that thou longer stop; for thy stay hinders my weeping, with which I ripen that which thou hast said. A grandchild I have on earth who is named Alagia, good in herself, if only our house make her not wicked by example; and she alone remains to me yonder.”