Purgatorio: Canto III

And then, albeit that their sudden flight
Had scattered them through all the wide champaign.
Turned to the Mount where leadeth Reason right,

I to my comrade true drew close again;
And how should I without him e'er have gone?
Who up that mountain would my steps have ta'en?

He seemed to me within himself to groan.
O Conscience truly noble, pure, and chaste.
How keen the pangs by thee for small ills known!

And when his feet had laid aside the haste
Which robs each gesture of its dignity,
My mind, till then within itself embraced,

Took wider range, as if with eager eye,
And turned my glance upon the mountain near,
Which rising from the water seeks the sky."

The sun, which, fiery red, shone on our rear.
Was broken there before me in the way.
As on my form its rays were brought to bear

Unto one side I turned in sore dismay,
Lest I should be abandoned, when I saw
That before me alone the shadow lay.

And then my Comfort: "Why this faithless awe?"
So he began, with face full turned to me,
"Think'st thou that I my guidance will withdraw?

Tis eve already now, where buried be
The members within which I shadows made:
Naples now hath it, ta'en from Brindisi.

Now if there fall in front of me no shade.
Wonder not more than that two separate rays
Meet in the heavens, yet neither is delayed.

To suffer freezing cold and torturing blaze
Bodies like this doth Power Supreme ordain,
Which wills to veil from us His work and ways.

Insane is he who hopes our reason vain
Can scale of path the height that knows no end.
Where Persons Three One Substance doth contain.

Be ye content, O men, to keep in sight
What is, for could ye knowledge full acquire,
Then Mary's birth-throes had been needless quite:

And thou hast seen the unsatisfied desire
Of men, whose yearnings then had found repose,
Who vainly now eternally aspire.

Of Aristotle, Plato, and of those
Still many more, I speak," — and then his head
He bowed in silence, brooding o'er his woes.

Now towards the mountain's base our footsteps sped.
And there we found the precipice so steep.
That all in vain had been the nimblest tread.

The rocks that Lerici and Turbia keep.
The barest and most broken, were a stair"
Compared with that, which one might lightly leap.

"Who knows which side an easier slope doth bear,"
Then said my Master, halting on his way,
That one who has no wings may mount up there?"

And while, with eyes down-bending he did stay,
With eager mind to scrutinise the road.
And my gaze upward o'er the rock did stray.

On the left hand, a band of souls there showed.
Who, as in our direction, moved their feet,
Yet hardly seemed to stir, so slow they trod;"

"Lift up thine eyes," I did my Guide entreat,
"See one on this side who'll give counsel wise,
If thou thyself hast no suggestion meet."

Then he looked on me with frank open eyes,
And said, " Let us go thither: they come slow,
And thou, sweet son, to stronger hopes arise."

Still was that people as far off, I trow,
(I say when we had gone a mile or more)
As far as stalwart hands a stone could throw.

When they all gathered where the hard crags soar
Of that high cliff", and stood erect and close,
As one who, doubting, halts to look before.

"Ye spirits, whom Divine foreknowledge chose.
Whose end was blest," spake Virgil, " by that peace
Wherein, I deem, ye all shall find repose,

Tell us where slopes the mountain, that with ease
We may have power to climb the upward way;
The wisest man lost time doth most displease."

As tender ewes from out the sheepfold stray.
By ones, twos, threes, and others timid stand,
While on the ground their eyes and noses play,

And what the foremost doth, that doth the band,
Around her pressing, if to halt she chance,
Quiet, though why they do not understand.

So I beheld the foremost one advance
Out of the fold of that blest company,
With noble mien and modest shrinking glance.

And when those in the vanward did espy.
The broken rays that fell upon my right.
So that the shadow o'er the rock did lie,

They halted, and drew back at that same sight;
And all the others, who came close behind,
Did just the same, though why, unknowing quite.

''I own to you, ere questions utterance find.
This is a human body which ye see,
And hence the shadow on the ground defined.

Nor marvel ye at this, but deem that he.
Not without strength that cometh from on high.
Seeks o'er this rampart to find passage free."

So spake my Guide, and that good company
Said: " Turn ye then and now before us go,"
With beck of hands they signalled us to try;

And one of them began: " Thou who dost go
This way, whoe'er thou art, turn here thine eyes,
And think if thou in yon world me didst know."

I turned to him, and looked in steadfast wise;
Fair was he, goodly, and of gentle mien,
But one brow showed a sword-stroke's injuries.

And when I humbly said I had not seen
His face before, he said, " Then now behold,"
And showed a wound his neck and breast between.

Then: "I am Manfred," with a smile he told,
"Grandson of Constance, of imperial state.
Therefore, when thou art where thou wast of old.

Go to my daughter fair, I pray, whom fate
Hath made the mother of Sicilia's pride,
And Arragon's, and there the truth relate.

If other tale be told — that, as I died,
My body pierced with twofold deadly wound.
Weeping I turned to Him whose love flows wide.

Dreadful and dire the sins that wrapt me round.
But such wide arms hath goodness infinite
That room for each returning soul is found,

And if Cosenza's pastor had read right —
He was by Clement sent my steps to chase —"
This scripture wisely, as by God's own light.

My bones had still found rest, were that the case,
At the bridge-head to Benevento near,
Where the vast cairn stands bulwark of the place.

Now the rain bathes them, and the storm-winds bear
Beyond the realm, yea, hard by Verde's stream.
By him, with lights extinguished, carried there.

Nor by their maledictions lost, I deem.
Is Love Eternal beyond power of change.
So long as Hope's young buds with verdure gleam.

True is it he whom hardened sins estrange
From Holy Church, though he repent at last,
Must needs upon this bank an exile range,

Full thirty-fold for all the period past
Of his presumptuous sins, unless, perchance,
Prayers duly offered make the time speed fast.

See, if thou canst my blessedness advance.
And to my Constance dear the plight reveal
Which thou hast seen, and what my hinderance;

We here of prayers on earth the virtue feel."