Purgatorio: Canto X

When he had passed the threshold of the gate
Which souls leave little used through evil lust,
In that this makes the crooked path seem straight,

I heard the sound of doors in closing thrust.
And if towards it I had turned mine eyes,
What plea for pardon of that fault were just?

We through a rifted rock did upward rise,
Which now on this side, now o' the other wound.
E'en as a wave now rushes on, now flies.

"Here must some little art with us be found,"
Then said my Leader, " that we take the side
Now here, now there, where the road windeth round."

Our footsteps thus with slower speed were plied.
So that the waned orb of the moon had gone
Within its lowly couch again to hide,

Ere through that needle's eye our way we won;
But when we reached the open and were free.
Where the mount backward piles itself in one,

I, worn and weary, — doubting, I and he
About our way, — we then to halt were fain
On a broad ledge more lone than deserts be;

And from the rim which doth the void contain.
On to the foot of that bank's soaring height,
Three human forms the measure would attain;

And far as eye of mine could wing its flight,
Now on the right flank, now upon the left,
The same this cornice seemed still to my sight.

By not one step had we our station left
When I the bank that went around did see,
Which had us of all power to mount bereft,

Of marble white, and so adorned to be
With sculptures that not Polyclete alone,
But Nature's self had owned its victory.

The angel who to earth the news made known
Of peace that man had wept for many a year,
And Heaven long barred and closed had open thrown.

Before us stood in sculptured form so clear,
In attitude that sweetest thought betrayed;
That he no speechless image did appear.

One could have sworn that he his Ave said,
For there too in clear imaged form was She
Who turned the key that high love open laid;

And on her mien, as written, one might see
"Ecce Ancilla Dei" full as plain
As figures that in wax imprinted be.

'Let not one spot thy mind so long detain,"
Said my sweet Master, who upon that side
Had me which doth in man the heart contain.

Wherefore I turned my gaze, and so descried,
In rear of Mary, there towards my right,
Where he stood who was acting as my Guide,

Another tale engraved on that rock's height.
Wherefore, past Virgil crossing, near I drew,
Till full and clear it stood before my sight.

There in the marble's self there sculptured grew
The car and kine that bare the holy chest.
Which o'er tasks self-assumed its terrors threw.

In front appeared a crowd that onward pressed.
In seven full choirs, who sense and sense made foes;
This " Yes, they sing," and that did "No " attest.

So too the smoke that from the incense rose.
Which there was imaged, made the nose and eyes
Conflict, and so to "No " and " Yes " dispose.

Before the blessed ark in humble guise
The Psalmist went, and with his loins girt, leapt,
More than a king, and less, before mine eyes.

And on the other side, her station kept
At palace window, Michal on him gazed.
Like woman who for scorn and shame has wept.

From where I stood my feet I forward raised
To scan more near another history.
Which behind Michal in its whiteness blazed.

There was wrought out the glory great and high
Of that great Prince of Rome whose excellence
Moved Gregory to his great victory,

(To Trajan, Emperor, I this praise dispense)
And a poor widow stood beside his rein
Bowed down by many a tear and grief intense:

And round about him, seemed it thronged by train
Of mounted knights, and eagles all in gold,
In the wind fluttering, glittered clear and plain:

It seemed among them that sad woman told
Her tale, " My Lord, let me thy vengeance call
For my son's death, that turns my heart's blood cold."

And he replied: "Wait thou till it befall
That I return; " and she, " Nay, good my Lord,"
Answered, as one with grief impatient all,

"If thou return not.",.. "Who succeeds," his word
So ran, " will do it for thee." She: " The good
Of others will not help, thine own deferred."

Then he: " Now rest thou in more cheerful mood;
I, ere I stir, at once the right will do;
So justice wills; me pity hath subdued."

He to whose vision nothing comes as new
Wrought by his skill this language visible,"
Most strange to us, for here nought like we view.

And while with great delight my glances fell
On these fair emblems of humility.
That for their Maker's sake were dear as well,

"See on this side (with few steps pass they by),"
Murmured the Poet, "people manifold:
These will lead us to stairs that rise on high."

Mine eyes, which still were eager to behold.
And see the strange new things that they desire.
Were then not slack to turn as I was told.

I wish not, Reader, that thou should'st retire
From thy good purpose when thou art made sure
How God doth payment of thy debt require.

Heed not the form of pain that sins procure;
Think of what follows; think if worst should be,
Beyond the Judgment it shall not endure.

Then I began: "O Master, what I see
Towards us moving, persons do not seem;
Yet what I know not; clear sight faileth me."

And he to me: " The grievous lot, I deem,"
Of this their torture bows them to the ground;
So that at first mine eyes sought clearer gleam.

But fix thy gaze; so may such search profound
Reveal what cometh there beneath yon stones;
There canst thou see by what weight each is bound."

O ye proud Christians, sad and weary ones,
Who, weakened in the vision of your mind,
Place your blind trust in course that backward runs!

Perceive ye not we are of worm-like kind.
Born to bring forth the angel butterfly,"
That soars to Judgment, and no screen doth find?

Why doth your soul lift up itself on high?
Ye are as insects yet but half complete.
As worms in whom their growth fails utterly.

As to give roof or ceiling bearing meet,
As corbel fixed, a form is often seen.
Of which the knees up-thrust the bosom meet.

And by its pain untrue gives true pain keen
To him who on it looks, so these I saw.
With good heed gazing on their act and mien.

True, their cramped limbs did each to other draw.
As they upon their back bore more or less.
And he who most of patience owned the law

"I can no more," seemed crying in distress.