Purgatorio: Canto VII

After the greetings dignified and glad had been repeated three and four times, Sordello drew him back, and said: “Who art thou?”

“Ere to this mount were turned those spirits worthy to ascend to God, my bones by Octavian had been buried.

I am Virgil; and for no other sin did I lose heaven than for not having faith “: thus answered then my Leader.

As one who seeth suddenly a thing before him whereat he marvels, who believes, and believes not, saying: “It is, it is not”;

such seemed he, and forthwith bent his brow, and humbly turned back towards my Leader, and embraced him where the inferior clasps.

“O glory of the Latins,” said he, “by whom our tongue showed forth all its power, O eternal praise of the place whence I sprang,

what merit or what favour sheweth thee to me? If I am worthy to hear thy words, tell me if thou comest from Hell, and from what cloister.”

“Through all the circles of the woeful realm,” answered he him, “came I here. A virtue from heaven moved me, and with it I come.

Not for doing, but for not doing, have I lost the vision of the high Sun, whom thou desirest, and who too late by me was known.

Down there is a place not sad with torments, but with darkness alone, where the lamentations sound not as wailings, but are sighs.

There do I abide with the innocent babes, bitten by the fangs of death, ere they were exempt from human sin.

There dwell I with those who clad them not with the three holy virtues, and without offence knew the others and followed them all.

But if thou knowest and canst, give us some sign whereby we may most quickly come there where Purgatory has right beginning.”

He answered: “No fixed place is set for us: ’tis permitted to me to go up and around; so far as I may go, as guide I place me beside thee.

But see now how the day is declining, and ascend by night we cannot; therefore ’tis well to think of some fair resting-place.

Here are souls on the right apart; if thou allow it I will lead thee to them, and not without joy will they be known to thee.”

“How is that?” was answered; “he who wished to ascend by night, would he be hindered by others, or would he not ascend because he could not?”

And the good Sordello drew his finger across the ground, saying: “Look, even this line thou wouldst not cross after the sun is set;

not for that aught else than the darkness of night gave hindrance to going upward: that hampers the will with lack of power.

Truly by night one might return downwards, and walk, wandering around the mountain side, while the horizon holds the day closed.”

Then my Lord, as tho’ marvelling, said: “Lead us therefore where thou sayest we may have delight in tarrying.”

Short way had we thence advanced, when I perceived that the mount was scooped out, after the fashion that valleys scoop them out here.

“There,” said the shade, “we will go where the mountain-side makes of itself a bosom, and there will await the new day.”

Neither steep nor level was a winding path, that led us to the side of that hollow, there where the valley’s edge more than half dies away.

Gold and fine silver, cramoisy and white, Indian wood bright and clear, fresh emerald at the moment it is split,

would each be surpassed in colour by the grass and by the flowers placed within that fold, as the less is surpassed by the greater.

Not only had Nature painted there, but of the sweetness of a thousand scents made there one, unknown and indefinable.

There, seated on the grass and on the flowers, singing Salve Regina, saw I souls who because of the valley were not seen from without.

“Ere the little sun now sinks to his nest,” began the Mantuan who had led us aside, “desire not that I guide you among them.

From this terrace ye will better know the acts and faces of them all, than if received among them down in the hollow.

He who sits highest, and hath semblance of having left undone what he ought to have done, and who moves not his lips with the others’ songs,

was Rudolph the Emperor, who might have healed the wounds that were the death of Italy, so that too late through another is she succoured.

The other, who looks to be comforting him, ruled the land where the water rises which the Moldau carries away into the Elbe, and the Elbe into the sea:

Ottocar for name had he, and in swaddling clothes was better far than bearded Wenceslas his son, whom lust and sloth consume.

And that snub-nosed one, who seems close in counsel with him that hath so kindly a mien, died in flight and deflowering the lily:

look there how he is beating his breast. The other see, who, sighing, hath made a bed for his cheek with the palm of his hand.

Father and father-in-law are they of the plague of France: they know his wicked and foul life, and hence comes the grief that pierceth them so.

He who seems so stout of limb, and accords his singing with him of the virile nose, was begirt with the cord of every worth.

And if the lad who sits behind him had remained king after him, the worth would in truth have passed from vessel to vessel;

which may not be said of the other heirs. James and Frederick have the realms: of the better heritage none hath possession.

Rarely doth human probity rise through the branches: and this he wills who giveth it, so that it may be prayed for from him.

Also to the big-nosed one my words do go, not less than to the other, Peter, who is singing with him, wherefore Apulia and Provence now moan.

So much is the plant degenerate from its seed as, more than Beatrice and Margaret, Constance yet boasts of her husband.

See the king of the simple life, sitting there alone, Henry of England: he in his branches hath better issue.

That one who lower down humbleth himself among them, gazing upward, is William the Marquis, through whom Alessandria and its war make Montferrato and the Canavese to weep.