Purgatorio: Canto IV

When, or through sense of pleasure or of pain,
Which seizes on some faculty of ours,
The soul doth, as absorbed by it, remain.

It seems to give no heed to other powers;
And this refutes their error who surmise
That one soul in us o'er another towers;

And hence, when aught doth fall on ears or eyes
Which keeps the soul drawn to it mightily.
Time, all unheeded by us, onward flies;

For one power is perceptive faculty,
The whole soul is the other's residence,
And this is as in bonds, while that is free.

Of this I had a true experience.
So did that spirit's voice my wonder fill;
For fifty full degrees the sun rose thence,"

And I was not aware of it until
We came to where the spirits to us cried,
All with one voice, "Lo, here ye have your will."

Oft doth the peasant churl a gap more wide
Close with a pitchfork full of briar or thorn,
When the grape's clusters are by autumn dyed,

Than was the pathway where we then did turn,
My Guide and I, as I behind him sped,
When as that troop away from us were borne.

Sanleo one may scale, down Noli tread,"
To Bismantova's topmost height aspire.
With feet alone; here needs one wings instead, —

Swift wings I mean, and pinions of desire.
Led on by him from whom my spirit drew
Hope of success, and guiding light of fire.

We mounted up, that broken rock-path through;
And on each side its barriers hemmed us in,
And the ground called for feet and hand-grasp too;

And when our way we to the edge did win
Of the high bank which slopes towards the plain,
"Master," said I, " what way shall we begin?"

"Let not one step," said he, " descend again;
Still press behind me to the mountain's height.
Till some wise Guide to lead us on shall deign."

The summit was so high it baffled sight,
And steeper far it rears its sloping side
Than line that doth bisect an angle right.

Then I, o'er-spent and weary, thus replied:
"O my sweet Father, turn thou here and see
How, if thou stay not, I alone abide."

My Son, up yonder, onward press," said he,
His finger pointing to a ledge above,
Which on that side the hill girds evenly.

So strong to spur me on his words did prove;
I forced myself, and near him clambered on,
So that my feet did on that cornice move.

Then we sat down there, both of us, each one
Turned to the East, whence we began to rise,
For in thus looking back is full joy won;

To the low shores I first bent down mine eyes,
Then raised them to the sun, and saw its rays
Smite on us from the left with great surprise.

And when the Poet saw my puzzled gaze
As then I looked upon the sun's bright car,
Where 'twixt us and the North it tracked its ways,

Then he to me: "If Castor-Pollux star
Were now attending yonder mirror clear.
Which downward, upward spreads its light afar,

Then wouldst thou see, far closer to the Bear,
The reddened Zodiac on its circuit wind,
Unless, perchance, from its old path it veer.

How that may be wouldst thou be fain to find.
Think thou within thyself how Zion stands.
So with this mountain on the earth combined.

That each the same horizon line commands,
With hemispheres diverse, and so the road.
To drive on which unskilled were Phaeton's hands,

Thou'lt see how this must on one side be showed,
While that upon the other side is seen,
If that thy mind its path hath rightly trod."

'Never, O Master mine," said I, " I ween,
Saw I so clearly as I now discern.
Where until now my spirit weak hath been.

That the mid-circle of the Heavens that turn,
Which is in science as Equator known,
Twixt winter placed and where the Sun doth burn,

For reason which thou tell'st, must hence be thrown
Northwards, as far as did the Hebrews old
Behold it, stretching to the hotter zone.

But if it please thee I would fain be told
How far our journey; higher doth the hill
Rise than mine eyes can raise them to behold.''

And he to me: "This Mount is such that still.
Beginning from below, 'tis rough and steep.
But as one climbs the less he finds it ill.

Therefore when thou from it such joy shalt reap.
As makes thy journey seem as light and smooth
As in a boat that down-stream course doth keep.

Then shalt thou reach thy pathway's end in sooth.
There hope thy panting breath awhile to rest;"
More I speak not, but this I know is truth."

And when he had these words on me impressed,
A voice not far off cried: "But thou, perchance,
Shalt have to halt ere that as one distressed.'

And at that sound we each turned round our glance,
And saw upon our left a rock rise high
Which erst nor he nor I to note did chance;

Thither we drew, and then we saw full nigh
A troop of souls behind the great crag's shade,
As one who stands still, resting slothfully:

And one who seemed to me with toil o'erweighed,
Was sitting down, his arms around each knee.
And low between them was his face down laid;

O sweet my Lord," I said, "look here and see.
And gaze on him who seems more negligent
Than if Sloth's self his sister claimed to be."

Then he turned to us, gaze upon us bent.
Scarce lifting up his face above his thigh.
And said: "Mount thou: thy valour is not spent;"

Then knew I who he was; nor then did I,"
Though still that struggle made me panting tread.
Allow myself to halt till I drew nigh.

When I came near he hardly raised his head.
And said: "Hast thou seen clearly how the Sun
O'er thy left shoulder his bright car hath led?"

His sluggish mien, and words that slow did run.
Did move my lips a little to a smile;
Then I began: "Belacqua, now I've done

Grieving for thee, but tell me why this while
Dost thou sit here? Expectest guide or friend?
Or does thy wonted habit thee beguile?"

And he: "What boots it, brother, to ascend.
Since there God's angel, sitting at the gate.
Would not permit me to my pain to wend?

First it behoves that I outside must wait,
While Heaven moves round the measure of my years,
Since my good sighs, delayed long, came too late.

Unless, ere that, some prayer a succour bears,
Uprising from a heart that lives in grace;
What profit others that Heaven never hears?

And now the Poet mounted on apace
And said, 'Come on, thou see'st that now the Sun
Is at meridian height, while Night to trace

Her pathway o'er Morocco hath begun."