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Translated by Henry Francis Cary Selections from “The Divine Comedy” Purgatory: Canto XXVII.
NOW was the sun so stationed, as when first | |
| His early radiance quivers on the heights, | |
| Where streamed his Maker’s blood; while Libra hangs | |
| Above Hesperian Ebro; and new fires, | |
| Meridian, flash on Ganges’ yellow tide. | 5 |
| So day was sinking, when the angel of God | |
| Appeared before us. Joy was in his mien. | |
| Forth of the flame he stood upon the brink; | |
| And with a voice, whose lively clearness far | |
| Surpassed our human, “Blessed are the pure | 10 |
| In heart,” he sang: then near him as we came, | |
| “Go ye not further, holy spirits!” he cried, | |
| “Ere the fire pierce you: enter in; and list | |
| Attentive to the song ye hear from thence.” | |
| I, when I heard his saying, was as one | 15 |
| Laid in the grave. My hands together clasped, | |
| And upward stretching, on the fire I looked; | |
| And busy fancy conjured up the forms | |
| Erewhile beheld alive consumed in flames. | |
| The escorting spirits turned with gentle looks | 20 |
| Toward me; and the Mantuan spake: “My son, | |
| Here torment thou may’st feel, but canst not death. | |
| Remember thee, remember thee, if I | |
| Safe e’en on Geryon brought thee; now I come | |
| More near to God, wilt thou not trust me now? | 25 |
| Of this be sure; though in its womb that flame | |
| A thousand years contained thee, from thy head | |
| No hair should perish. If thou doubt my truth, | |
| Approach; and with thy hands thy vesture’s hem | |
| Stretch forth, and for thyself confirm belief. | 30 |
| Lay now all fear, oh! lay all fear aside. | |
| Turn hither, and come onward undismayed.” | |
| I still, though conscience urged, no step advanced. * * * * * | |
| Into the fire before me then he walked: | |
| And Statius, who erewhile no little space | 35 |
| Had parted us, he prayed to come behind. | |
| I would have cast me into molten glass | |
| To cool me, when I entered; so intense | |
| Raged the conflagrant mass. The sire beloved, | |
| To comfort me, as he proceeded, still | 40 |
| Of Beatrice talked. “Her eyes,” saith he, | |
| “E’en now I seem to view.” From the other side | |
| A voice, that sang, did guide us; and the voice | |
| Following, with heedful ear, we issued forth, | |
| There where the path led upward. “Come,” we heard, | 45 |
| “Come, blessèd of my Father.” Such the sounds, | |
| That hailed us from within a light, which shone | |
| So radiant, I could not endure the view. | |
| “The sun,” it added, “hastes: and evening comes. | |
| Delay not: ere the western sky is hung | 50 |
| With blackness, strive ye for the pass.” Our way | |
| Upright within the rock arose, and faced | |
| Such part of heaven, that from before my steps | |
| The beams were shrouded of the sinking sun. | |
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