Purgatorio: Canto XVII

Bethink thee. Reader, if on Alpine height,
A cloud hath wrapt thee, through which thou hast seen.
As the mole through its membrane sees the light.

How when the vapours moist and dense begin
Themselves to scatter, then the sun's bright sphere
All feebly enters in the clouds between:

And thus thy power of fancy will appear
Swift to discern how I at first again
The sun beheld, whose setting now was near.

While with my Master's faithful steps were ta'en
Mine own in measured pace, I left the cloud.
For dying rays that fell on sea-washed plain.

O Power of Fancy, that full oft hast showed
Thy spell to rob our sense, that we hear not
Though round us thousand trumpets blare aloud,

Who moves thee, if sense hath her power forgot?
By light thou then art moved which heaven doth range,
Per se, or Will that doth its course allot.

Of her transgression who her form did change
Into the bird that most delights in song,
Then in my fancy came the vision strange;

And so my mind withdrawn by impulse strong
Within itself, I failed to apprehend
What else upon my outward sense did throng.

Then on my high-pitched fancy 'gan descend,
One on a cross, of scornful mood, with pride
In look and mien, and so his life did end.

The great Ahasuerus by his side
Stood with Queen Esther, and just Mordecai,
Who in all words and deeds was true and tried.

And as that image broke and passed away,
Of its own motion like a bubble thin,
When fails the moisture, whence it sprang, to stay.

A maiden rose my dreaming thoughts within.
Who wept with bitter tears, and said: " O Queen,
Why has wrath led thee 'gainst thy life to sin?

Not to lose me, Lavinia, thou hast been
Self-slain: now thou hast lost me, mother mine;
Grief for thy fate above all else is keen."

As sleep is broken, when new light doth shine
Upon the closed-up eye all suddenly.
And broken quivers, ere it life resign.

So vanished then mine airy phantasy,
Soon as a beam upon my features fell.
Far brighter than is wont to meet our eye.

I turned, that where I was I might see well,
When a voice said: " Lo! here the upward way,"
And left no room for other thought to dwell.

And made my will such eagerness display.
To look upon his face that spake to me,"
As, till 'tis met, can never tranquil stay.

As at the sun which strains our power to see,
And veils its true form in excess of light.
So failed me then my vision's faculty.

"A spirit this divine that gives us right
Direction in our way without our prayers.
And with his glory hides himself from sight.

For us, as man doth for himself, he cares,
For he who waits for prayer, yet sees the need.
With grudging spirit to deny prepares.

Let us, thus summoned, onward now proceed.
And haste to climb ere darkness falls apace,
Else, till day come, our power were small indeed."

Thus spake my Guide, and he and I our pace
Quick turned to where a stairway mounted high;
Soon as I reached the first step's resting-place,

I heard the whirr, as if of wings, float by.
And fan me in the face, and utter " Blest
Those who make peace, nor know malignity."

E'en now so steeply upward in the West
Struck the last rays whereon night follows swift,
That far and wide above stars showed their crest.

'O strength of manhood, why thus from me drift?"
I said within myself, as feeling gone
All power I had my limbs from earth to lift.''

We had come there where further rise was none
Upon those steps, and so we halted there,
E'en as a ship rests, when the shore is won.

And while I listened so that I might hear
Aught in the circle new that opened thence,
Then said I, to my Master drawing near:

"O my sweet Father, tell me what offence
Is cleansed in this round where we're arrived;
Though our feet stay, stay not thine eloquence."

And he to me: " The love of good, deprived
Of its due power to act, is here restored,
And the slow oar finds here swift stroke revived.

But that thou may'st receive yet clearer words,
Turn thou thy mind to me, and thou shalt gain
From our delay fruit worthy to be stored.

Nor ever God nor creature in His train,"
So he began, " dear Son, was void of love,
Be it of sense or soul; this thou see'st plain.

Sense never from its natural end doth rove;
The other may by evil object err,
Or strength, below just measure or above.

If to the chiefest good the will it stir.
And in the second find proportion due.
Its pleasure has no evil character;

But when it turns to ill, or doth pursue
Good with more eager care, or less, than right,
The thing made to its Maker works untrue.

Hence thou canst judge how for you must unite
In Love the seed of every excellence,
And of each act that penalties requite.

And since Love never turns its fixed gaze thence.
Seeking the good of that wherewith 'tis one,
Against self-hate all things have sure defence:

And since we cannot deem that aught lives on,
Self-centred, sundered from the Cause of all,"
Room in our hearts for hating Him is none.

So it remains, if right my judgment fall.
The ill we love is in our neighbour found.
And triply may that love your clay befall;

There are who on their neighbour's ruin found"
Their hope of rising, and for this alone
Would wish his greatness levelled with the ground;

There are who fear to see their power o'erthrown.
Their honour, fame, and grace, by others' rise,
And seek their damage to relieve their own;

And there are those so chafed with injuries.
That they of vengeance are full greedy still.
And such must needs their neighbour's harm desire:

This threefold love is wept for down this hill.
Now of the other I would have thee know,
That follows good with passion ordered ill.

Each dimly fixes on his good, that so
His mind may rest, and this he will require.
And therefore after this each man doth go.

If love be slow to that sight to aspire,
Or to pursue, then doth this margin's round.
After due penance purge each wrong desire.

What other good there is leaves bliss unfound:
It is not happiness, it is not good
Essential, of all good both fruit and ground.

Love, by that lower good o'ermuch subdued.
Above us here bewails in circles three;
But how that triple order meets each mood,

I tell thee not, that thou may'st seek and see."