The Divine Comedy Volume Ii Part 5

[1] The first step is the symbol of confession, the second of contrition, the third of satisfaction; the threshold of adamant may perhaps signify the authority of the Church.

[2] Three times, in penitence for sins in thought, in word, and in deed.

[3] The seven P's stand for the seven so-called mortal sins,-- Peccati, not specific acts, but the evil dispositions of the soul from which all evil deeds spring,--pride, envy, anger, sloth (accidia), avarice, gluttony, and l.u.s.t. After justification these dispositions which already have been overcome, must be utterly removed from the soul.

Ashes or earth dug out dry would be of one color with his vestment, and from beneath that he drew two keys. One was of gold and the other was of silver; first with the white and then with the yellow he so did to the door, that I was content.[1]

"Whenever one of these keys fails, and turns not rightly in the lock," said he to us, "this pa.s.sage doth not open. More precious is one[2] but the other requires much art and wit before it unlocks, because it is the one that disentangles the knot. From Peter I hold them; and he told me to err rather in opening than in keeping shut, if but the people prostrate themselves at my feet." Then he pushed the valve of the sacred gate, saying, "Enter, but I give you warning that whoso looks behind returns outside."[3] And when the pivots of that sacred portal, which are of metal, sonorous and strong, were turned within their hinges, Tarpeia roared not so loud nor showed herself so harsh, when the good Metellus was taken from her, whereby she afterwards remained lean.[4]

[1] The golden key is typical of the power to open, and the silver of the knowledge to whom to open.

[2] The gold, more precious because the power of absolution was purchased by the death of the Saviour.

[3] For he who returns to his sins loses the Divine Grace.

[4] This roaring of the gate may, perhaps, be intended to enforce the last words of the angel, and may symbolize the voices of his own sins as the sinner turns his back on them. When Caesar forced the doors of the temple of Saturn on the Tarpeian rock, in order to lay hands on the sacred treasure of Rome, he was resisted by the tribune Metellus.

I turned away attentive to the first tone,[1] and it seemed to me I heard "Te Deum laudamus"[2] in voices mingled with sweet sound.

That which I heard gave me just such an impression as we are wont to receive when people stand singing with an organ, and the words now are, now are not caught.

[1] The first sound within Purgatory.

[2] Words appropriate to the entrance of a sinner that repenteth.

CANTO X. First Ledge: the Proud.--Examples of Humility sculptured on the Rock.

When we were within the threshold of the gate, which the souls'

wrong love[1] disuses, because it makes the crooked way seem straight, I heard by its resounding that it was closed again.

And, if I had turned my eyes to it, what excuse would have been befitting for the fault?

[1] It is Dante's doctrine that love is the motive of every act; rightly directed, of good deeds; perverted, of evil. See Canto XVII.

We were ascending through a cloven rock, which moved on one side and on the other, even as the wave retreats and approaches. "Here must be used a little art," began my Leader, "in keeping close, now here, now there to the side which recedes."[1] And this made our progress so slow that the waning disk of the moon regained its bed to go to rest, before we had come forth from that needle's eye. But when we were free and open above, where the mountain backward withdraws,[2] I weary, and both uncertain of our way, we stopped upon a level more solitary than roads through deserts. The s.p.a.ce from its edge, where it borders the void, to the foot of the high bank which rises only, a human body would measure in three lengths; and as far as my eye could stretch its wings, now on the left and now on the right side, such did this cornice seem to me. Thereon our feet had not yet moved when I perceived that bank round about, which, being perpendicular, allowed no ascent, to be of white marble and adorned with such carvings, that not Polycletus merely but Nature would be put to shame there.

[1] The path was a narrow, steep zigzag, which, as it receded on one side and the other, afforded the better foothold.

[2] Leaving an open s.p.a.ce, the first ledge of Purgatory.

The Angel who came to earth with the announcement of the peace, wept for for many years, which opened Heaven from its long interdict, appeared before us here carved in a sweet att.i.tude so truly that he did not seem an image that is silent. One would have sworn that he was saying "Ave;" for there was she imaged who turned the key to open the exalted love. And in her action she had these words impressed, "Ecce ancilla Dei!"[1] as exactly as a shape is sealed in wax.

[1] "Behold the handmaid of the Lord!"

"Keep not thy mind only on one place," said the sweet Master, who had me on that side where people have their heart. Wherefore I moved my eyes and saw behind Mary, upon that side where he was who was moving me, another story displayed upon the rock; whereupon I pa.s.sed Virgil and drew near so that it might be set before my eyes. There in the very marble was carved the cart and the oxen drawing the holy ark, because of which men fear an office not given in charge.[1] In front appeared people; and all of them, divided in seven choirs, of two of my senses made the one say "NO," the other "YES, THEY ARE SINGING."[2] In like manner, by the smoke of the incense that was imaged there, mine eyes and nose were made in YES and NO discordant. There, preceding the blessed vessel, dancing, girt up, was the humble Psalmist, and more and less than king was he in that proceeding.

Opposite, figured at a window of a great palace, Michal was looking on even as a lady scornful and troubled.[3]

[1] "And they set the ark of G.o.d on a new cart, and brought it out of the house.. . and Uzzah and Ahio drave the new cart....and when they came to Nachon's thres.h.i.+ng-floor, Uzzah put forth his hand to the ark of G.o.d, and took hold of it; for the oxen shook it. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzzah, and G.o.d smote him there for his error; and there he died by the ark of G.o.d." 2 Samuel, vi. 4-7.

[2] The hearing said "No," the sight said "Yes."

[3] "So David went and brought up the ark of G.o.d... into the city of David with gladness. And when they that bare the ark of the Lord had gone six paces he sacrificed oxen and fatlings. And David danced before the Lord with all his might; and David was girded with a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet. And as the ark of the Lord came into the city of David, Michal, Saul's daughter, looked through a window, and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart." 2 Samuel, vi. 12-16.

I moved my feet from the place where I was standing to look from near at another story which behind Michal was s.h.i.+ning white on me. Here was storied the high glory of the Roman prince, whose worth incited Gregory to his great victory:[1] I speak of Trajan the emperor; and a poor widow was at his bridle in att.i.tude of weeping and of grief. Round about him there seemed a press and throng of knights, and the eagles in the gold above him to the sight were moving in the wind. The wretched woman among all these seemed to be saying, "Lord, do vengeance for me for my son who is slain, whereat I am broken-hearted." And he to answer her, "Now wait till I return;" and she, "My Lord,"--like one in whom grief is hasty,--"if thou return not?" And he, "He who shall be where I am will do it for thee." And she, "What will the good deed of another be to thee if thou art mindless of thine own?" Whereon he, "Now comfort thee; for it behoves that I discharge my own duty ere I go; justice requires it, and pity constrains me." He who hath never seen new thing [2] had produced that visible speech, novel to us, since on earth it is not found.

[1] This legend of Trajan had great vogue during the Middle Ages.

It was believed that Pope Gregory the Great interceded for him, praying that he might be delivered from h.e.l.l; "then G.o.d because of these prayers drew that soul from pain and put it into glory."

This was Gregory's great victory. See Paradise, XX., p. 131.

[2] G.o.d, to whom nothing can be new.

While I was delighting me with regarding the images of such great humilities, and for their Maker's sake dear to behold, "Lo, on this side many people, but they make few steps," murmured the Poet. "They will put us on the way to the high stairs." My eyes that were intent on looking in order to see novelties whereof they are fain, in turning toward him were not slow.

I would not, indeed, Reader, that thou be dismayed at thy good purpose, through hearing how G.o.d wills that the debt be paid.

Attend not to the form of the suffering; think on what follows; think that at worst beyond the Great Judgment it cannot go!

I began, "Master, that which I see moving toward us, seems to me not persons, but what I know not, my look is so in vain." And he to me, "The heavy condition of their torment so presses them to earth, that mine own eyes at first had contention with it. But look fixedly there, and disentangle with thy sight that which cometh beneath those stones; now thou canst discern how each is smitten."

O proud Christians, wretched weary ones, who, diseased in vision of the mind, have confidence in backward steps, are ye not aware that we are worms born to form the angelic b.u.t.terfly which flies unto judgment without defence? Why doth your mind float up aloft, since ye are as it were defective insects, even as a worm in which formation fails?

As sometimes for support of ceiling or roof, by way of corbel, a figure is seen joining its knees to its breast, which out of its unreality makes a real pang rise in him who sees it, thus fas.h.i.+oned saw I these when I gave good heed. True it is that they were more or less contracted according as they had more or less upon their backs; and he who had most patience in his looks, weeping, appeared to say, "I can no more."

CANTO XI. First Ledge: the Proud.--Prayer.--Omberto Aldobrandeschi.--Oderisi d' Agubbio.--Provinzan Salvani.

"O our Father who art in Heaven, not circ.u.mscribed, but through the greater love which to the first effects on high Thou hast,[1]

praised be Thy name and Thy power by every creature, even as it is befitting to render thanks to Thy sweet effluence. May the peace of Thy Kingdom come towards us, for we to it cannot of ourselves, if it come not, with all our striving. As of their will Thine angels, singing Hosanna, make sacrifice to Thee, so may men make of theirs. Give us this day the daily manna, without which through this rough desert he backward goes, who toils most to go on. And as we pardon every one for the wrong that we have suffered, even do Thou, benignant, pardon and regard not our desert. Our virtue which is easily overcome put not to proof with the old adversary, but deliver from him who so spurs it. This last prayer, dear Lord, truly is not made for ourselves, for it is not needful, but for those who behind us have remained."

[1] Not circ.u.mscribed by Heaven, but having Thy seat there because of the love Thou bearest to the first effects --the angels, and the heavens--of Thyself the First Cause.

Thus praying for themselves and us good speed, those souls were going under the weight, like that of which one sometimes dreams, unequally in anguish, all of them round and round, and weary, along the first cornice, purging away the mists of the world. If good they ask for us always there, what can here be said and done for them by those who have a good root for their will? Truly we ought to aid them to wash away the marks which they bore hence, so that pure and light they may go forth unto the starry wheels.

"Ah! so may justice and pity unburden you speedily that ye may be able to move the wing, which according to your desire may lift you, show on which hand is the shortest way towards the stair; and if there is more than one pa.s.s, point out to us that which least steeply slopes; for this man who comes with me, because of the load of the flesh of Adam wherewith he is clothed, is chary against his will of mounting up." It was not manifest from whom came the words which they returned to these that he whom I was following had spoken, but it was said, "To the right hand along the bank come ye with us, and ye will find the pa.s.s possible for a living person to ascend. And if I were not hindered by the stone which tames my proud neck, wherefore I needs must carry my face low, I would look at that one who is still alive and is not named, to see if I know him, and to make him pitiful of this burden. I was Italian, and born of a great Tuscan; Guglielmo Aldobrandesco was my father: I know not if his name was ever with you.[1] The ancient blood and the gallant deeds of my ancestors made me so arrogant that, not thinking on the common mother, I held every man in scorn to such extreme that I died therefor, as the Sienese know, and every child in Campagnatico knows it. I am Omberto: and not only unto me Pride doth harm, for all my kinsfolk bath she dragged with her into calamity; and here must I heap this weight on her account till G.o.d be satisfied,--here among the dead, since I did it not among the living."

[1] The Aldobrandeschi were the counts of Santa Fiore (see Canto VI.) in the Sienese Maremma. Little is known of them, but that they were in constant feud with Siena. The one who speaks was murdered in his own stronghold of Campagnatico, in 1259.

Listening, I bent down my face; and one of them, not he who was speaking, twisted himself under the weight that hampers him; and he saw me, and recognized me and called out, keeping his eyes with effort fixed on me, who was going along all stooping with him.[1] "Oh," said I to him, "art thou not Oderisi, the honor of Gubbio, and the honor of that art which in Paris is called illumination?" "Brother," said he, "more smiling are the leaves that Franco of Bologna pencils; the honor is now all his, and mine in part.[2] Truly I should not have been so courteous while I lived, because of the great desire of excelling whereon my heart was intent. Of such pride here is paid the fee; and yet I should not be here, were it not that, still having power to sin, I turned me unto G.o.d. Oh vainglory of human powers! how little lasts the green upon the top, if it be not followed by dull ages.[3] Cimabue thought to hold the field in painting, and now Giotto has the cry, so that the fame of him is obscured. In like manner one Guido hath taken from the other the glory of the language; and he perhaps is born who shall drive both one and the other from the nest.[4] Worldly renown is naught but a breath of wind, which now comes hence and now comes thence, and changes name because it changes quarter. What more fame shalt thou have, if thou strippest old flesh from thee, than if thou hadst died ere thou hadst left the pap and the c.h.i.n.k,[5] before a thousand years have pa.s.sed?--which is a shorter s.p.a.ce compared to the eternal than a movement of the eyelids to the circle that is slowest turned in Heaven. With him who takes so little of the road in front of me, all Tuscany resounded, and now he scarce is lisped of in Siena, where he was lord when the Florentine rage was destroyed,[6] which at that time was proud, as now it is prost.i.tute. Your reputation is color of gra.s.s that comes and goes, and he[7] discolors it through whom it came up fresh from the earth." And I to him, "Thy true speech brings good humility to my heart, and thou allayest a great swelling in me; but who is he of whom thou now wast speaking?" "He is," he answered, "Provinzan Salvani;[8] and he is here, because he was presumptuous in bringing all Siena to his hands. He has gone thus--and he goes without repose--ever since he died: such money doth he pay in satisfaction, who is on earth too daring." And I, "If that spirit who awaits the verge of life ere he repents abides there below, and unless good prayer further him ascends not hither, ere as much time pa.s.s us he lived, how has this coining been granted unto him?" "When he was living most renowned," said he, "laying aside all shame, of his own accord he planted himself in the Campo of Siena,[9] and there, to draw his friend from the punishment he was enduring in the prison of Charles, brought himself to tremble in every vein. More I will not say, and I know that I speak darkly; but little time will pa.s.s, before thy neighbors will so act that thou wilt he able to gloss it.[10] This deed released him from those limits."[11]