Purgatorio: Canto XI

"Our Father, Thou who dwellest in the Heaven,
Not bound by space, but by love more intense.
Which Thou unto Thy primal works hast given,

Praised be Thy Name and Thine omnipotence
By every creature, as 'tis meet and right
To render thanks to Thy sweet effluence.

Upon us may Thy kingdom's peace alight.
To which we cannot of ourselves arise,
Unless it come, with all our reason's might.

As of their will Thine angels sacrifice"
Make to Thee, while their lips ' Hosanna ' say,
So may men offer all their will's device!

Our daily manna give to us to-day.
Without which whoso through this desert drear
Journeys, goes back, though pressing on his way:"

And as the trespass we from others bear
We forgive "each, so, Lord, do Thou forgive
Of bounty, nor to count our merits care.

Our virtue, which so soon doth harm receive,
Put not to peril with our ancient foe,
But from his evil sting deliverance give.

This final prayer, dear Lord, from us doth flow,
Not for ourselves, for we no longer need,
But for their sakes whom we have left below."

So praying for themselves and us 'God speed!'
Those souls went on their way beneath their weight,
As oft in dreams such evil fancies breed;

Round still and round, in anguish disparate.
And wearied all, along the bank they wound.
Purging the darkness thick of Earth's estate.

If there for us such pleadings aye abound,
What here for them may those or do or say.
In whom the blest root of good-will is found?

Well may we help them wash those stains away,
Which they bore hence, that so, made clean and free,
Up to yon starry sphere they take their way.

"Ah, so may justice soon and charity
Disburden you, that ye with wings may move
That shall uplift you where ye seek to be!

Show us which path towards the stairs will prove
The shortest way; if there be more than one,
Then that which slopes less steeply from above:

For he who comes with me is nigh undone
By Adam's flesh, wherewith he stands arrayed,
And 'gainst his will, with laggard steps goes on."

The words that were to this in answer said,
Which he had spoken whom I came behind,
The quarter whence they came but half displayed.

But this was said: " Ye on the right shall find,
If ye come with us, pass accessible,
Where living man his way may safely wind;

And if this stone were not a hindrance fell.
Which on me lies to tame my stiff neck's pride,
And me to keep my face down doth compel.

Him, who yet liveth and his name doth hide,"
I fain would see, — perchance, a well-known face, —
Whose heart would pity for my woes provide.

A Latin was I, of great Tuscan race,
Guglielm' Aldobrandeschi called me son;
I know not if his name your memory trace.

My ancient blood and brave deeds nobly done
By my forefathers, me so haughty made,
That I forgot our Mother is but one,

And towards all men such proud scorn displayed,
I died through it, as all Siennese know,
And every child in Campagnatic glade.

Omberto I; nor did that pride work woe
To me alone, but all my kindred too
Into sore trouble it had power to throw.

And here this weight must needs my pride subdue
So long, until that God be satisfied.
Here 'mong the dead, since life failed that to do."

I, as I listened, bent, my face to hide.
And one of them, not he who to us spake,
Writhed 'neath the weight to which his limbs were tied;

He saw me, knew me; from his lips there brake.
As he did strain his eager gaze, a cry.
While I, all bent, with them my way did take.

"Art thou not Oderisi? " then said I,
"The pride of Gubbio, glory of that art
In Paris known as limner's mystery?"

"Brother," said he, " more pleasure gives the chart
Which Franco of Bologna now doth paint:
His now is all the honour, mine but part;

My courteous praise would have been far more faint"
While I was living, so by longings made
For eminence, on which my heart was bent.

Of that foul pride the forfeit here is paid;
Yet had I not attained this place and hour,
Save that, with power to sin, to God I prayed.

Oh, empty glory of all human power,
How little green doth on its height endure.
Save when dull times that follow darkly lour!

Once Cimabue seemed to hold full sure
His own 'gainst all in art: now Giotto bears
The palm, and this man's fame doth that obscure.

So too one Guido from the other tears
The praise of speech, and one doth live, perchance.
Who to drive both from out their nest prepares.

The world's best fame no higher doth advance
Than breath of wind, whose fickle gusts deceive.
And changing side, leaves name to change and chance.

What greater glory thine, if age bereave
Thee of thy flesh, than if thou then hadst died,
Ere thou thy infant prattling erst didst leave,

When thousand years have passed? Yet that, beside
The eternal, is as twinkle of an eye
To sphere that slowest turns where Heaven spreads wide.

Of him who treads before me tardily
His onward way, all Tuscany did ring;"
Now scarce a whisper 'neath Siena's sky

Is heard, where he was lord, when fate did bring
Rout on the rage of Florence, then as high
As now she is in whoredom grovelling.

Your high repute, as bloom of grass, doth fly,"
Which comes and goes, and he doth mar its grace
Through whom from earth it burgeons verdantly."

And I to him: "Thy words in my heart trace
Lessons that humble, and bring low my pride;
But who is he that in thy speech had place?"

Salvani Provenzano," he replied,
"And he is here, because with pride unblest
He sought to rule o'er all Siena wide.

Thus is he gone, and wandering knows no rest.
Since his death hour; such forfeit here is paid"
By him who there in daring has transgressed."

And if each soul remain below," I said,
"Who waits till life's last verge ere he repent,
Nor may his upward journey yet be made

Unless true prayers their gracious help have lent,
Until he pass the time he lived on earth,
By what great bounty was he hither sent?"

"He, when he lived in state of loftiest worth,
Of his free will, in fair Siena's plain,
Stood forth, nor let the sense of shame have birth,

And there, to free his dear friend from the pain.
Which wore his life in Charles's prison drear,
So acted that he trembled in each vein;

No more I'll say, and know I speak not clear.
But those thy fellows soon will thee apprise,
So that to thee full plain it shall appear:

This deed released him from those boundaries."