Divine Comedy: Purgatory | Page 9

from
my breast
Loos'ning the cross, that of myself I made
When
overcome with pain. He hurl'd me on,
Along the banks and bottom of
his course;

Then in his muddy spoils encircling wrapt."
"Ah! when thou to the world shalt be return'd,
And rested after thy
long road," so spake
Next the third spirit; "then remember me.
I
once was Pia. Sienna gave me life,
Maremma took it from me. That

he knows,
Who me with jewell'd ring had first espous'd."
CANTO VI
When from their game of dice men separate,
He, who hath lost,
remains in sadness fix'd,
Revolving in his mind, what luckless throws

He cast: but meanwhile all the company
Go with the other; one
before him runs,
And one behind his mantle twitches, one
Fast by
his side bids him remember him.
He stops not; and each one, to
whom his hand
Is stretch'd, well knows he bids him stand aside;

And thus he from the press defends himself.
E'en such was I in that
close-crowding throng;
And turning so my face around to all,
And
promising, I 'scap'd from it with pains.
Here of Arezzo him I saw, who fell
By Ghino's cruel arm; and him
beside,
Who in his chase was swallow'd by the stream.
Here
Frederic Novello, with his hand
Stretch'd forth, entreated; and of Pisa
he,
Who put the good Marzuco to such proof
Of constancy. Count
Orso I beheld;
And from its frame a soul dismiss'd for spite
And
envy, as it said, but for no crime:
I speak of Peter de la Brosse; and
here,
While she yet lives, that Lady of Brabant
Let her beware; lest
for so false a deed
She herd with worse than these. When I was freed

From all those spirits, who pray'd for others' prayers
To hasten on
their state of blessedness;
Straight I began: "O thou, my luminary!

It seems expressly in thy text denied,
That heaven's supreme decree
can never bend
To supplication; yet with this design
Do these
entreat. Can then their hope be vain,
Or is thy saying not to me
reveal'd?"
He thus to me: "Both what I write is plain,
And these deceiv'd not in
their hope, if well
Thy mind consider, that the sacred height
Of
judgment doth not stoop, because love's flame
In a short moment all
fulfils, which he

Who sojourns here, in right should satisfy.
Besides,
when I this point concluded thus,
By praying no defect could be

supplied;
Because the pray'r had none access to God.
Yet in this
deep suspicion rest thou not
Contented unless she assure thee so,

Who betwixt truth and mind infuses light.
I know not if thou take me
right; I mean
Beatrice. Her thou shalt behold above,
Upon this
mountain's crown, fair seat of joy."
Then I: "Sir! let us mend our speed; for now
I tire not as before; and
lo! the hill
Stretches its shadow far." He answer'd thus:
"Our
progress with this day shall be as much
As we may now dispatch; but
otherwise
Than thou supposest is the truth. For there
Thou canst not
be, ere thou once more behold
Him back returning, who behind the
steep
Is now so hidden, that as erst his beam
Thou dost not break.
But lo! a spirit there
Stands solitary, and toward us looks:
It will
instruct us in the speediest way."
We soon approach'd it. O thou Lombard spirit!
How didst thou stand,
in high abstracted mood,
Scarce moving with slow dignity thine eyes!

It spoke not aught, but let us onward pass,
Eyeing us as a lion on
his watch.
I3ut Virgil with entreaty mild advanc'd,
Requesting it to
show the best ascent.
It answer to his question none return'd,
But of
our country and our kind of life
Demanded. When my courteous
guide began,
"Mantua," the solitary shadow quick
Rose towards us
from the place in which it stood,
And cry'd, "Mantuan! I am thy
countryman
Sordello." Each the other then embrac'd.
Ah slavish Italy! thou inn of grief,
Vessel without a pilot in loud
storm,
Lady no longer of fair provinces,
But brothel-house impure!
this gentle spirit,
Ev'n from the Pleasant sound of his dear land
Was
prompt to greet a fellow citizen
With such glad cheer; while now thy
living ones
In thee abide not without war; and one

Malicious gnaws
another, ay of those
Whom the same wall and the same moat contains,

Seek, wretched one! around thy sea-coasts wide;
Then homeward
to thy bosom turn, and mark
If any part of the sweet peace enjoy.

What boots it, that thy reins Justinian's hand
Befitted, if thy saddle be

unpress'd?
Nought doth he now but aggravate thy shame.
Ah people!
thou obedient still shouldst live,
And in the saddle let thy Caesar sit,

If well thou marked'st that which God commands
Look how that beast to felness hath relaps'd
From having lost
correction of the spur,
Since to the bridle thou hast set thine hand,

O German Albert! who abandon'st her,
That is grown savage and
unmanageable,
When thou should'st clasp her flanks with forked
heels.
Just judgment from the stars fall on thy blood!
And be it
strange and manifest to all!
Such as may strike thy successor with
dread!
For that thy sire and thou have suffer'd thus,
Through
greediness of yonder realms detain'd,
The garden of the empire to run
waste.
Come see the Capulets and Montagues,
The Philippeschi