Purgatorio: Canto XVI

Gloom of Hell and of a night bereft of every planet under a meagre sky, darkened by cloud as much as it can be,

made not to my sight so thick a veil, nor of a pile so harsh to the feel, as that smoke which there covered us;

for it suffered not the eye to stay open: wherefore my wise and trusty Escort closed up to me, and offered me his shoulder.

Even as a blind man goeth behind his guide in order not to stray, and not to butt against aught that may do him hurt, or perchance kill him,

so went I through the bitter and foul air, listening to my Leader who was saying ever: “Look that thou be not cut off from me.”

I heard voices, and each one seemed to pray for peace and for mercy, to the Lamb of God that taketh away sins.

Only “Agnus Dei” were their beginnings; one word was with them all, and one measure; so that full concord seemed to be among them.

“Are those spirits, Master, that I hear?” said I. And he to me: “Thou apprehendest truly, and they are untying the knot of anger.”

“Now who art thou that cleavest our smoke, and speakest of us even as if thou didst still measure time by calends?”

Thus by a voice was said; wherefore my Master said: “Answer thou and ask if by this way we go upward.”

And I: “O creature that art cleansing thee to return fair unto him who made thee, a marvel shalt thou hear if thou follow me.”

“I will follow thee so far as is permitted me,” it answered, “and if the smoke lets us not see, hearing shall keep us in touch in its stead.”

Then began I: “With those swathings which death dissolves I am journeying upward and here did come through the anguish of Hell;

and if God hath received me so far into his grace that he wills that I may behold his court in a manner quite outside modern use,

hide not from me who thou wast before death, but tell it me, and tell me if I am going aright for the pass; and thy words shall be our escort.”

“A Lombard was I and was called Mark; I had knowledge of the world, and loved that worth at which now every one hath unbent his bow;

for mounting up thou goest aright.” Thus answered he, and added: “I pray thee that thou pray for me, when thou art above.”

And I to him: “By my faith I bind me to thee to do that which thou askest of me, but I am bursting within at a doubt, if I free me not from it.

First ’twas simple, and now is made double by thy discourse, which makes certain to me, both here and elsewhere, that whereto I couple it.

The world is indeed so wholly desert of every virtue, even as thy words sound to me, and heavy and covered with sin;

but I pray that thou point the cause out to me, so that I may see it, and that I may show it to others; for one places it in the heavens and another here below.”

A deep sigh, which grief compressed to “Alas!” he first gave forth, and then began: “Brother, the world is blind, and verily thou comest from it.

Ye who are living refer every cause up to the heavens alone, even as if they swept all with them of necessity.

Were it thus, Freewill in you would be destroyed, and it were not just to have joy for good and mourning for evil.

The heavens set your impulses in motion; I say not all, but suppose I said it, a light is given you to know good and evil,

and Freewill, which, if it endure the strain in its first battlings with the heavens, at length gains the whole victory, if it be well nurtured.

Ye lie subject, in your freedom, to a greater power and to a better nature; and that creates in you mind which the heavens have not in their charge.

Therefore, if the world to-day goeth astray, in you is the cause, in you be it sought, and I now will be a true scout to thee therein.

From his hands who fondly loves her ere she is in being, there issues, after the fashion of a little child that sports, now weeping, now laughing,

the simple, tender soul, who knoweth naught save that, sprung from a joyous maker, willingly she turneth to that which delights her.

First she tastes the savour of a trifling good; there she is beguiled and runneth after it, if guide or curb turn not her love aside.

Wherefore ’twas needful to put law as a curb, needful to have a ruler who might discern at least the tower of the true city.

Laws there are, but who putteth his hand to them? None; because the shepherd that leads may chew the cud, but hath not the hoofs divided.

Wherefore the people, that see their guide aiming only at that good whereof he is greedy, feed on that and ask no further.

Clearly canst thou see that evil leadership is the cause which hath made the world sinful, and not nature that may be corrupted within you.

Rome, that made the good world, was wont to have two suns, which made plain to sight the one road and the other; that of the world, and that of God.

One hath quenched the other; and the sword is joined to the crook; and the one together with the other must perforce go ill;

because, being joined, one feareth not the other. If thou believest me not, look well at the ear, for every plant is known by the seed.

Over the land which the Adige and the Po water, worth and courtesy were wont to be found, ere Frederick met opposition;

now, safely may it be traversed by whomsoever had, through shame, ceased to hold converse with good men, or to draw near them.

Truly three elders yet are there in whom the olden times rebuke the new, and it seems to them long ere God removes them to the better life:

Corrado da Palazzo, and the good Gerard, and Guido da Castel, who is better named in French fashion the guileless Lombard.

Say henceforth, that the Church of Rome, by confounding two powers in herself, falls into the mire, and fouls herself and her burden.”

“O my Mark,” said I, “well thou reasonest, and now I perceive why Levi’s sons were exempt from inheriting;

but what Gerard is that, who thou sayest is left behind for ensample of the extinct people, in reproof of the barbarous age?”

“Either thy speech beguiles me, or it tempts me,” he answered me, “for thou, speaking to me in Tuscan, seemest to know naught of the good Gerard.

By other surname I know him not, except I take it from his daughter Gaia. God be with you, for no further I come with you.

See the light, that beams through the smoke, now waxing bright; the angel is there, and it behoves me to depart ere I am seen of him.” So turned he back and no more would hear me.