Purgatorio: Canto VII

After those greetings good, given joyfully.
Had thrice, yea, four times, further been renewed,
Sordello drew back, and said, " Who are ye?"

"Ere yet this mountain's height the souls had viewed,
That were deemed worthy sight of God to win,
My bones found burial from Octavian good:

Virgil am I, and for no other sin
Than that I lacked true faith did I lose Heaven."
So did my Guide his answer then begin.

As one to whom some strange new sight is given,
At which he looks in blank astonishment,
'Twixt faith and doubt, " it is," " it is not," driven.

So did he seem, and then his brow he bent,
And turned to him with humble reverence
And clasped him as on homage due intent.

"O glory of the Latins," said he, " whence
Was shown the might of what oar speech could do
Source of my native land's pre-eminence,

What grace or merit brings thee to my view?
If I to hear thy words am worthy found,
Say if from Hell thou com'st, and what purlieu."

Throughout the dolorous kingdom's every round,"
He answered, "have I on my journey come:
By power from Heaven led on I tread this ground.

Not what I did, but did not, brought the doom"
To lose the sight of that bright Sun on high
Thou seekest, which too late did me illume.

A place there is of no sharp agony.
But of dark shadows only, where lament
Sounds not like wail of woe, but as a sigh;

There dwell I with young children innocent.
Whom Death's sharp teeth have snatched ere yet they were
Freed from the sin which with our birth is blent;

There stay I with the souls that had no share
In the three saintly graces, yet unstained
By vice, all other virtues fain would wear;

But if thou hast the power and knowledge gained.
Give us some hint how we may sooner reach
Where Purgatory's true gate is attained."

He answered: No fixed bound is given to each:
'Tis free to me to go around, above:
Far as I can, I thee will guide and teach.

But see how day e'en now doth downward move:
We cannot take our upward course by night,
'Twere well to think of rest in some fair cove.

Souls are there yonder, far off to the right;
If thou consent, to them I will thee lead;
And thou shalt know them, not without delight"

How is this?" answered he, "should one indeed
Wish to mount up by night, would some be found
To hinder, or would want of power impede?"

And good Sordello drew along the ground
His finger, saying, ' When the sun has set.
Thou couldst not pass beyond this line as bound.

Not that aught else thy onward course would let,"
As thou did'st mount, but Night's overshadowing gloom;
That and the want of power the will beset.

Well might we now with her descending come,
And, wandering still, this hillside travel o'er.
Whilst the horizon doth the day entomb."

Then spake my Master, wondering more and more:
"Lead us," said he, " e'en there, where thou dost say
That we may tarry and find joys, full store."

Then some short distance on our feet did stray.
When I perceived the Mount was hollowed there,
As in our world the valleys scoop their way.

Thither," that shade said, " we will now repair.
Where in itself the hillside makes a bend.
And wait there till the coming day appear."

'Twixt hill and plain a winding path did trend,
Which led within the bosom of the vale,
To where the ledge doth more than half descend.

Gold, silver, crimson, ceruse' splendour pale.
The Indian wood so lucent and serene.
Fresh emerald, when its outer coat doth scale,

Placed in that vale the plants and flowers between,
Would each and all be found surpassed in hue.
As less by greater overpowered is seen:

Nor did we Nature's painting only view.
But of a thousand fragrant odours sweet
She made a mingled perfume strange and new.

Then on the flowers and grass of that retreat,
Salve Regina singing, souls I saw.
Who failed, outside the vale, our eyes to meet.

Ere the scant sun doth to its nest withdraw,"
Began the Mantuan, who our steps did guide,
"Seek not that I to them your feet should draw.

The acts and features from this border's side
Ye will know better far, of each and all.
Than if among them where the plain spreads wide.

He who sits highest and whose looks recall
The mien of one who leaves his task undone,
And from whose lips no chants responsive fall,

Rodolph the Emperor was, who might have won
Health for the wounds that have Italia slain,
While now her cure, by others, lingers on;

And he from whom he comfort seems to gain
Ruled o'er the land from whence the waters seek
The Elbe from Moldau, from the Elbe the main.

His name was Ottocar: as infant weak,
Far better he than bearded Wenceslaus,
His son, who lives in lust and ease full sleek.

And that snub-nosed one who to counsel draws
Close joined with him of aspect mild and sweet.
Died in his flight and shamed the lily's cause.

Behold, how he upon his breast doth beat!
That other see, how he, with many a sigh.
Rests cheeks on hands, so finding couch full meet,

Sire, and wife's sire, of France's infamy;
They know his life how sin-stained and debased
And thence the grief that doth their spirits try.

He who so stout-limbed seems, whose voice is raised
In song with him, of nostrils strong and wide,
Was with the girdle of all virtues graced;

And if the youth who sitteth by his side,
Had after him survived, as king to reign.
From vase to vase had grace been well supplied,

Which none can of the other heirs maintain;
Frederick and Giacomo the kingdoms own;
None the far better heritage attain.

But seldom human excellence hath grown
Through branches of the tree: He wills it so
Who gives it, that we ask of Him alone.

Eke to that large-nosed one my speech doth go,
Nor less that Pier, who with him doth sing;
Whence Provence and Apulia wail for woe.

Plants from old seed do oft degenerate spring,
As Constance of her spouse still makes more boast
Than Beatrice and Margaret of their king.

See ye the king alone 'mid all the host,
Henry of simple life, with England's crown;
He in his branches happier is than most.

And he who lower than the rest bows down
Is Marquis Guglielmo, who doth raise
His eyes, through whom doth Alessandria's town

Trouble Montferrat and the Canavese.