The Purgatorio (Okey) · 1901
Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII
Translated by Thomas Okey (1901)
Also in this archive
Henry Francis Cary’s translation (1814) · Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII Compare side by side
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s translation (1867) · Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII Compare side by side
Charles Eliot Norton’s translation (1891–1892) · Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII Compare side by side
E. H. Plumptre’s translation (1886–87; text of the Isbister edition, 1899) · Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII Compare side by side
John Aitken Carlyle (1849), revised by H. Oelsner’s translation (Temple Classics, 1900) →
James Romanes Sibbald’s translation (1884) →
Ichabod Charles Wright’s translation (1833) →
Philip H. Wicksteed’s translation (1899) · Paradiso: Canto XXXIII Compare side by side
“Deus, venerunt gentes”: now three, now four, alternately and weeping, a sweet psalmody the ladies began;
and Beatrice sighing and compassionate was hearkening to them so altered, that little more did Mary change at the cross.
But when the other virgins gave place to her to speak, uprisen erect on her feet, she answered in hue of fire:
“Modicum, et non videbitis me, et iterum, my beloved sisters, modicum, et vos videbitis me”
Then she placed them all seven in front of her, and, merely by her nod, motioned behind her, me and the Lady and the Sage who had stayed.
Thus she went on, and I believe not that her tenth step was put on the ground, when with her eyes mine eyes she smote;
and with tranquil mien did say to me: “Come more quickly so that if I speak with thee, thou be well placed to listen to me.”
Soon as I was with her, as ’twas my duty to be, she said to me: “Brother, wherefore coming now with me, venturest thou not to ask of me?”
As to those, who in presence of their betters are too lowly in speech so that they bring not their voice whole to the lips,
it happened to me and without full utterance I began: “My Lady, my need you know, and that which is good for it.”
And she to me: “From fear and from shame I would that now thou unbind thee, so that thou speak no more like one that is dreaming.
Know that the vessel which the serpent broke, was, and is not; but let him whose fault it is, believe that God’s vengeance fears no sops.
Not for all time shall be without heir the eagle that left the plumage on the car, whereby it became a monster and then a prey;
for of a surety I see, and therefore do tell it, stars already nigh, secure from all impediment and from all hindrance, that shall bring us times
wherein a five hundred ten and five, sent by God, shall slay the thief, with that giant who sins with her.
And perchance my prophecy, obscure as Themis and Sphinx, doth less persuade thee, because after their fashion it darkens thy mind;
but soon the facts shall be the Naiades that will solve this hard riddle without loss of flocks or of corn.
Note thou; and even as these words from me are borne, so do thou signify them to those who live that life which is a race unto death;
and bear in mind when thou writest them, not to conceal how thou hast seen the tree which now twice hath been despoiled here.
Whoso robs that or that doth rend, with blasphemy in act offendeth God, who alone for his service did create it holy.
For eating of that, in torment and in desire, five thousand years and more the first soul did yearn for him who punished the bite in himself.
Thy wit sleepeth if it judge not that tree to be for special cause thus lofty and thus transposed at the top.
And if thy idle thoughts had not been Elsan waters about thy mind, and their pleasantness a Pyramus to the mulberry,
by so many circumstances alone thou wouldst recognise in the tree morally, God’s justice in the ban.
But because I see thy mind turned to stone and, stonelike, such in hue that the light of my word dazes thee,
I also will that thou bear it away within thee, and if not written at least outlined, for the reason that the pilgrim’s staff is brought back wreathed with palm.”
And I: “Even as wax under the seal, that the imprinted figure changeth not, my brain is now stamped by you.
But why doth your longed-for word soar so far beyond my sight, that the more it straineth the more it loses it?”
“That thou mayst know,” she said, “that School which thou hast followed, and see how its teaching can keep pace with my word;
and mayst see your way so far distant from the divine way, as the heaven which highest speeds is removed from earth.”
Wherefore I answered her: “I remember not that I e’er estranged me from you, nor have I conscience thereof that gnaws me.”
“And if thou canst not remember it,” smiling she answered, “now bethink thee how thou didst drink of Lethe this very day;
and if from smoke fire is argued, this forgetfulness clearly proves fault in thy desire otherwhere intent.
But now my words shall be naked, so far as shall be meet to discover them to thy rude vision.”
Both more refulgent, and with slower steps, the sun was holding the meridian circle, which varies hither and thither as positions vary,
when did halt, even as he halts who goes for escort before folk, if he finds aught that is strange or the traces thereof,
those seven ladies at the margin of a pale shadow, such as beneath green leaves and dark boughs, the Alp casts over its cool streams.
In front of them I seemed to behold Euphrates and Tigris welling up from one spring, and parting like friends that linger.
“O light, O glory of human kind, what water is this that here pours forth from one source, and self from self doth wend away?”
At such prayer was said to me: “Pray Matilda that she tell it thee;” and here made answer, as he doth who frees him from blame,
the fair Lady: “This and other things have been told him by me, and sure am I that Lethe’s water hid them not from him.”
And Beatrice: “Haply a greater care that oft bereaves of memory hath dimmed his mind’s eyes.
But behold Eunoe, which there flows on; lead him to it, and as thou art wont, requicken his fainting virtue.”
As a gentle soul that maketh no excuse, but makes her will of the will of another, soon as it is disclosed by outward sign,
so the fair Lady, after I was taken by her, set forth, and to Statius with queenly mien did say: “Come with him.”
If, reader, I had greater space for writing, I would sing, at least in part, of the sweet draught which never would have sated me;
but forasmuch as all the pages ordained for this second canticle are filled, the curb of art no further lets me go.
I came back from the most holy waves, born again, even as new trees renewed with new foliage, pure and ready to mount to the stars.
Cite this text
MLA
Dante Alighieri. The Purgatorio (Okey), Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII. Translated by Thomas Okey. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/work/purgatorio-okey/32/.
Chicago
Dante Alighieri. The Purgatorio (Okey), Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII. Translated by Thomas Okey. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/work/purgatorio-okey/32/.