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The Purgatorio (Okey) · 1901

Purgatorio: Canto IV

by Dante Alighieri 1265–1321

Translated by Thomas Okey (1901)


When through impression of pleasure, or of pain, which some one of our faculties receives, the soul is wholly centred on that faculty,

it seems that it gives heed to no other of its powers; and this is contrary to that error, which believes that one soul above another is kindled within us.

And therefore, when aught is heard or seen which holds the soul strongly bent to it, the time passes away and we perceive it not;

for one faculty is that which notes it, and another that which possesses the undivided soul; the former is as ’twere bound, the latter free.

Of this I had true experience, while hearing that spirit and marvelling; for full fifty degrees had climbed

the sun, and I had not perceived it, when we came to where those souls with one voice cried out to us: “Here is what you ask.”

A bigger opening many a time the peasant hedges up with a little forkful of his thorns, when the grape is darkening,

than was the gap by which my leader mounted, and I after him, we two alone, when the troop parted from us.

One can walk at Sanleo and get down to Noli; one can mount Bismantova to its summit, with feet alone; but here a man must fly,

I mean with the swift wings and with the plumes of great desire, behind that Leader, who gave me hope, and was a light to me.

We were climbing within the cleft rock, and on either side the surface pressed against us, and the ground beneath required both feet and hands.

After we were on the upper edge of the high cliff, out on the open hillside, “Master mine,” said I, “what way shall we take?”

And he to me: “Let no step of thine descend, ever up the mount behind me win thy way, until some wise escort appear to us.”

So high was the top that it surpassed my sight, and the slope steeper far than a line from midquadrant to centre.

Weary was I when I began: “O sweet father, turn thee and look how I remain alone, if thou stay not.”

“My son,” said he, “so far as there drag thee,” pointing out to me a terrace a little higher up, which on that side circles the whole mountain.

So did his words spur me on, that I forced me, creeping after him, so far that the ledge was under my feet.

There we both did sit us down, turned towards the East, whence we had ascended; for to look back is wont to cheer men.

First mine eyes I directed to the shores below; then did raise them to the sun, and marvelled that we were smitten by it on the left side.

Right well the Poet perceived that I was all astonished at the chariot of the light, where ’twas entering between us and the North.

Whereupon he to me: “If Castor and Pollux were in company of that mirror, which purveys of his light upward and downward,

thou wouldst see the glowing Zodiac revolve yet closer to the Bears, unless it strayed from its ancient path.

If thou wouldst have power to conceive how that may be, rapt within thyself, imagine Zion and this mount to be placed on the earth

so that both have one sole horizon and different hemispheres; wherefore the way, which, to his hurt, Phaeton knew not how to drive,

thou shalt see must needs pass this on the one side when it passes Zion on the other, if thy mind right clearly apprehends.”

“Of a surety, Master mine,” said I, “never saw I so clearly as I discern, there where my wit seemed at fault,

that the median circle of the heavenly motion, which is called Equator in one of the sciences, and which ever remains ’twixt the sun and winter,

for the reason that thou tellest, departs here towards the North, as far as the Hebrews used to see it towards the hot climes.

But if it please thee, willingly would I know how far we have to go, for the hillside rises higher than mine eyes can reach.”

And he to me: “This mountain is such, that ever at the beginning below ’tis toilsome, and the more a man ascends the less it wearies.

Therefore when it shall seem to thee so pleasant that the ascending becomes to thee easy, even as in a boat to descend with the stream,

then shalt thou be at the end of this path: there hope to rest thy weariness. No more I answer, and this I know for truth.”

And when he had said his word, a voice hard by sounded: “Perchance ere that thou wilt have need to sit.

At sound of it each of us turned him round, and we saw on the left a great mass of stone, which neither I nor he perceived before.

Thither drew we on; and there were persons, lounging in the shade behind the rock, even as a man settles him to rest for laziness.

And one of them, who seemed to me weary, was sitting and clasping his knees, holding his face low down between them.

“O sweet my Lord,” said I, “set thine eye on that one who shows himself lazier than if Sloth were his very sister.”

Then turned he to us and gave heed, moving his face only over his thigh, and said: “Now go thou up who art valiant.”

Then knew I who he was; and that toil which still oppressed a little my breath, did not hinder my going to him; and after

I had got to him, his head he scarce did lift, saying: “Hast thou truly seen how the sun drives his chariot on thy left side?”

His lazy actions and the brief words moved my lips to smile a little; then I began: “Belacqua, it grieves me not

for thee now; but tell me, why art thou seated here? dost thou await escort, or hast thou but resumed thy wonted habit?”

And he: “Brother what avails it to ascend? For God’s winged angel that sits at the gate, would not let me pass to the torments.

First must the heavens revolve around me outside it, so long as they did during my life, because I delayed my healing sighs to the end:

unless before, a prayer aids me, which may rise up from a heart that lives in grace: what profits another that in heaven is not heard?”

And already the poet was mounting before me, and saying: “Come on now, thou seest the meridian is touched by the sun, and Night already with her foot covers from Ganges’ banks to Morocco.”

MLA

Dante Alighieri. The Purgatorio (Okey), Purgatorio: Canto IV. Translated by Thomas Okey. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/work/purgatorio-okey/3/.

Chicago

Dante Alighieri. The Purgatorio (Okey), Purgatorio: Canto IV. Translated by Thomas Okey. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/work/purgatorio-okey/3/.

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