Classic Poem

Ante-Purgatory.--Ascent to a shelf of the
mountain.--The negligent, who postponed repentance to the last
hour.--Belacqua.


When through delights, or through pains which some power of ours
may experience, the soul is all concentrated thereon, it seems
that to no other faculty it may attend; and this is counter to
the error which believes that one soul above another is kindled
in us.[1] And therefore, when a thing is heard or seen, which may
hold the soul intently turned to it, the time passes, and the man
observes it not: for one faculty is that which listens, and
another is that which keeps the soul entire; the latter is as it
were bound, and the former is loosed.

[1] Were it true that, as according to the Platonists, there were
more than one soul in man, he might give attention to two things
at once. But when one faculty is free and called into activity,
the rest of the soul is as it were bound in inaction.


Of this had I true experience, hearing that spirit and wondering;
for full fifty degrees had the sun ascended,[1] and I had not
noticed it, when we came where those souls all together cried out
to us, "Here is what you ask."

[1] It was now about nine o'clock A. M.


A larger opening the man of the farm often hedges up with a
forkful of his thorns, when the grape grows dark, than was the
passage through which my Leader and I behind ascended alone, when
the troop departed from us. One goes to Sanleo, and descends to
Noli, one mounts up Bismantova[1] to its peak, with only the
feet; but here it behoves that one fly, I mean with the swift
wings and with the feathers of great desire, behind that guide
who gave me hope and made a light for me. We ascended in through
the broken rock, and on each side the border pressed on us, and
the ground beneath required both feet and hands.

[1] These all are places difficult of access.


When we were upon the upper edge of the high bank on the open
slope, "My Master," said I, "what way shall we take?" And he to
me, "Let no step of thine fall back, always win up the mountain
behind me, till some sage guide appear for us."

The summit was so high it surpassed the sight and the side
steeper far than a line from the mid quadrant to the centre.[1] I
was weary, when I began, "O sweet Father, turn and regard howl
remain alone if thou dost not stop." "My son," said he, "far as
here drag thyself," pointing me to a ledge a little above, which
on that side circles all the hill. His words so spurred me, that
I forced myself, scrambling after him, until the belt was beneath
my feet. There we both sat down, turning to the east, whence we
had ascended, for to look back is wont to encourage one. I first
turned my eyes to the low shores, then I raised them to the sun,
and wondered that on the left we were struck by it. The Poet
perceived clearly that I was standing all bewildered at the
chariot of the light, where between us and Aquilo,[2] it was
entering. Whereupon he to me, "If Castor and Pollux were in
company with that mirror [3] which up and down guides with its
light, thou wouldst see the ruddy Zodiac revolving still closer
to the Bears, if it went not out of its old road.[4] How that may
be, if thou wishest to be able to think, collected in thyself
imagine Zion and this mountain to stand upon the earth so that
both have one sole horizon, and different hemispheres; then thou
wilt see that the road which Phaethon, to his harm, knew not how
to drive, must needs pass on the one side of this mountain, and
on the other side of that, if thy intelligence right clearly
heeds." "Surely, my Master," said I, "never yet saw I so clearly,
as I now discern there where my wit seemed deficient; for the
mid-circle of the supernal motion, which is called Equator in a
certain art,[4] and which always remains between the sun and the
winter, for the reason that thou tellest, from here departs
toward the north, while the Hebrews saw it toward the warm
region. But, if it please thee, willingly I would know how far we
have to go, for the hill rises higher than my eyes can rise." And
he to me, "This mountain is such, that ever at the beginning
below it is hard, and the higher one goes the less it hurts;
therefore when it shall seem so pleasant to thee that the going
up will be easy to thee as going down the current in a vessel,
then wilt thou be at the end of this path; there repose from toil
await: no more I answer, and this I know for true."

[1] A steeper inclination than that of an angle of forty-five
degrees.

[2] The North.

[3] The brightness of the sun is the reflection of the Divine
light.

[4] If the sun were in the sign of the Gemini instead of being in
Aries it would make the Zodiac ruddy still farther to the north.
In Purgatory the sun being seen from south of the equator is on
the left hand, while at Jerusalem, in the northern hemisphere, it
is seen on the right.

[5] Astronomy.


And when he had said his word, a voice near by sounded,
"Perchance thou wilt be first constrained to sit." At the sound
of it each of us turned, and we saw at the left a great stone
which neither he nor I before had noticed. Thither we drew; and
there were persons who were staying in the shadow behind the
rock, as one through indolence sets himself to stay. And one of
them, who seemed to me weary, was seated, and was clasping his
knees, holding his face down low between them. "O sweet my Lord,"
said I, "look at him who shows himself more indolent than if
sloth were his sister." Then that one turned to us and gave heed,
moving his look only up along his thigh, and said, "Now go up
thou, for thou art valiant." I recognized then who he was, and
that effort which was still quickening my breath a little
hindered not my going to him, and after I had reached him, he
scarce raised his head, saying, "Hast thou clearly seen how the
sun over thy left shoulder drives his chariot?"

His slothful acts and his short words moved my lips a little to a
smile, then I began, "Belacqua,[1] I do not grieve for thee
now,[2] but tell me why just here thou art seated? awaitest thou
a guide, or has only thy wonted mood recaptured thee?" And he,
"Brother, what imports the going up? For the bird of God that
sitteth at the gate would not let me go to the torments. It first
behoves that heaven circle around me outside the gate, as long as
it did in life, because I delayed good sighs until the end;
unless the prayer first aid me which rises up from a heart that
lives in grace: what avails the other which is not heard in
heaven?"

[1] Belacqua, according to Benvenuto da Imola, was a Florentine,
a maker of citherns and other musical instruments; he carved with
great care the necks and heads of his citherns, and sometimes he
played on them. Dante, because of his love of music, had been
well acquainted with him.

[2] He had feared lest Belacqua might be in Hell.


And now the Poet in front of me was ascending, and he said, "Come
on now: thou seest that the meridian is touched by the sun, and
on the shore the night now covers with her foot Morocco."