Part 112

The ice, that was about my heart congealed, To air and water changed, and in my anguish Through mouth and eyes came gushing from my breast.

She, on the right-hand border of the car Still firmly standing, to those holy beings Thus her discourse directed afterwards:

“Ye keep your watch in the eternal day, So that nor night nor sleep can steal from you One step the ages make upon their path;

Therefore my answer is with greater care, That he may hear me who is weeping yonder, So that the sin and dole be of one measure.

Not only by the work of those great wheels, That destine every seed unto some end, According as the stars are in conjunction,

But by the largess of celestial graces, Which have such lofty vapours for their rain That near to them our sight approaches not,

Such had this man become in his new life Potentially, that every righteous habit Would have made admirable proof in him;

But so much more malignant and more savage Becomes the land untilled and with bad seed, The more good earthly vigour it possesses.

Some time did I sustain him with my look; Revealing unto him my youthful eyes, I led him with me turned in the right way.

As soon as ever of my second age I was upon the threshold and changed life, Himself from me he took and gave to others.

When from the flesh to spirit I ascended, And beauty and virtue were in me increased, I was to him less dear and less delightful;

And into ways untrue he turned his steps, Pursuing the false images of good, That never any promises fulfil;

Nor prayer for inspiration me availed, By means of which in dreams and otherwise I called him back, so little did he heed them.

So low he fell, that all appliances For his salvation were already short, Save showing him the people of perdition.

For this I visited the gates of death, And unto him, who so far up has led him, My intercessions were with weeping borne.

God’s lofty fiat would be violated, If Lethe should be passed, and if such viands Should tasted be, withouten any scot

Of penitence, that gushes forth in tears.”

Purgatorio: Canto XXXI

“O thou who art beyond the sacred river,” Turning to me the point of her discourse, That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen,

She recommenced, continuing without pause, “Say, say if this be true; to such a charge, Thy own confession needs must be conjoined.”

My faculties were in so great confusion, That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct Than by its organs it was set at large.

Awhile she waited; then she said: “What thinkest? Answer me; for the mournful memories In thee not yet are by the waters injured.”

Confusion and dismay together mingled Forced such a Yes! from out my mouth, that sight Was needful to the understanding of it.

Even as a cross-bow breaks, when ’tis discharged Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow, And with less force the arrow hits the mark,

So I gave way beneath that heavy burden, Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs, And the voice flagged upon its passage forth.

Whence she to me: “In those desires of mine Which led thee to the loving of that good, Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to,

What trenches lying traverse or what chains Didst thou discover, that of passing onward Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope?

And what allurements or what vantages Upon the forehead of the others showed, That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them?”