Purgatory: Canto XVII. Third Ledge The Wrathful --Issue From The Smoke.
Third Ledge the Wrathful.--Issue from the
Smoke.--Vision of examples of Anger.--Ascent to the Fourth Ledge,
where Sloth is purged.--Second Nightfall.--Virgil explains how
Love is the root of Virtue and of Sin.
Recall to mind, reader, if ever on the alps a cloud closed round
thee, through which thou couldst not see otherwise than the mole
through its skin, how, when the humid and dense vapors begin to
dissipate, the ball of the sun enters feebly through them: and
thy imagination will easily come to see, how at first I saw again
the sun, which was already at its setting. So, matching mine to
the trusty steps of my Master, I issued forth from such a cloud
to rays already dead on the low shores.
O power imaginative, that dost sometimes so steal us from outward
things that a man heeds it not, although around him a thousand
trumpets sound, who moveth thee if the sense afford thee naught?
A light, that in the heavens is formed, moveth thee by itself, or
by a will that downward guides it?
[1] If the imagination is not stirred by some object of sense, it
is moved by the influence of the stars, or directly by the Divine
will.
In my imagination appeared the impress of the impiety of her[1]
who changed her form into the bird that most delights in singing.
And here was my mind so shut up within itself that from without
came nothing which then might he received by it. Then rained down
within my high fantasy, one crucified,[2] scornful and fierce in
his look, and thus was dying. Around him were the great
Ahasuerus, Esther his wife, and the just Mordecai, who was in
speech and action so blameless. And when this imagination burst
of itself, like a bubble for which the water fails, beneath which
it was made, there rose in my vision a maiden,[3] weeping
bitterly, and she was saying, "O queen, wherefore through anger
hast thou willed to be naught? Thou hast killed thyself in order
not to lose Lavinia: now thou hast lost me: I am she who mourns,
mother, at thine, before another's ruin.
[1] Progne or Philomela, according to one or the other version of
the tragic myth, was changed into the nightingale, after her
anger had led her to take cruel vengeance on Tereus.
[2] Haman, who, according to the English version, was hanged, but
according to the Vulgate, was crucified--Esther, vii.
[3] Lavinia, whose mother, Amata, killed herself in a rage at
hearing premature report of the death of Turnus, to whom she
desired that Lavinia should be married.--Aeneid, xii. 595-607.
As sleep is broken, when of a sudden the new light strikes the
closed eyes, and, broken, quivers ere it wholly dies, so my
imagining fell down, soon as a light, greater by far than that to
which we are accustomed, struck my face. I turned me to see where
I was, when a voice said, "Here is the ascent;" which from every
other object of attention removed me, and made my will so eager
to behold who it was that was, speaking that it never rests till
it is face to face. But, as before the sun which weighs down our
sight, and by excess veils its own shape, so here my power
failed. "This is a divine spirit who directs us, without our
asking, on the way to go up, and with his own light conceals
himself. He does for us as a man doth for himself; for he who
sees the need and waits for asking, malignly sets himself already
to denial. Now let us grant our feet to such an invitation; let
us hasten to ascend ere it grows dark, for after, it would not be
possible until the day returns." Thus said my Guide; and I and he
turned our steps to a stairway. And soon as I was on the first
step, near use I felt a motion as of wings, and a fanning on my
face,[1] and I heard said, "Beati pacifici,'[2] who are without
ill anger."
[1] By which the angel removes the third P from Dante's brow.
[2] "Blessed are the peacemakers."
Now were the last sunbeams on which the night follows so lifted
above us, that the stars were appearing on many sides. "O my
virtue, why dost thou so melt away?" to myself I said, for I felt
the power of my legs put in truce. We had come where the stair no
farther ascends, and we were stayed fast even as a ship that
arrives at the shore. And I listened a little, if I might hear
anything in the new circle. Then I turned to my Master, and said,
"My sweet Father, say what offence is purged here in the circle
where we are: if the feet are stopped, let not thy discourse
stop." And he to me, "The love of good, less than it should have
been, is here restored;[1] here is plied again the ill-slackened
oar. But that thou mayst still more clearly understand, turn thy
mind to me, and thou shalt gather some good fruit from our delay.
[1] It is the round on which the sin of acedie, sloth, is purged
away.
"Neither Creator nor creature," began he, "son, ever was without
love, either natural, or of the mind,[1] and this thou knowest.
The natural is always without error; but the other may err either
through an evil object, or through too much or through too little
vigor. While love is directed on the primal goods, and on the
second moderates itself, it cannot be the cause of ill delight.
But when it is bent to evil,[2] or runs to good with more zeal,
or with less, than it ought, against the Creator works his own
creature. Hence thou canst comprehend that love needs must be the
seed in you of every virtue, and of every action that deserves
punishment.
[1] Either native in the soul, as the love of God, or determined
by the choice, through free will, of some object of desire in the
mind.
[2] A wrong object of desire.
"Now since love can never bend its sight from the welfare of its
subject,[1] all things are safe from hatred of themselves; and
since no being can be conceived of divided from the First,[2] and
standing by itself, from hating Him[3] every affection is cut
off. It follows, if, distinguishing, I rightly judge, that the
evil which is loved is that of one s neighbor; and in three modes
is this love born within your clay. There is he who hopes to
excel through the abasement of his neighbor, and only longs that
from his greatness he may be brought low.[4] There is he who
fears loss of power, favor, honor, fame, because another rises;
whereat he is so saddened that he loves the opposite.[5] And
there is he who seems so outraged by injury that it makes him
gluttonous of vengeance, and such a one must needs coin evil for
others.[6] This triform love is lamented down below.[7]
[1] To however wrong an object love may be directed, the person
always believes it to be for his own good.
[2]The source of being.
[3] God, the First Cause.
[4] This is the nature of Pride.
[5] Envy.
[6] Anger.
[7] In the three lower rounds of Purgatory.
"Now I would that thou hear of the other,--that which runs to the
good in faulty measure. Every one confusedly apprehends a good[1]
in which the mind may be at rest, and which it desires; wherefore
every one strives to attain it. If the love be slack that draws
you to see this, or to acquire it, this cornice, after just
repentance, torments you therefor. Another good there is,[2]
which doth not make man happy, is not happiness, is not the good
essence, the root of every good fruit. The love which abandons
itself too much to this[3] is lamented above us in three circles,
but how it is reckoned tripartite, I am silent, in order that
thou seek it for thyself."
[1] The supreme Good.
[2] Sensual enjoyment.
[2] Resulting in the sins of avarice, gluttony, and lust.
Smoke.--Vision of examples of Anger.--Ascent to the Fourth Ledge,
where Sloth is purged.--Second Nightfall.--Virgil explains how
Love is the root of Virtue and of Sin.
Recall to mind, reader, if ever on the alps a cloud closed round
thee, through which thou couldst not see otherwise than the mole
through its skin, how, when the humid and dense vapors begin to
dissipate, the ball of the sun enters feebly through them: and
thy imagination will easily come to see, how at first I saw again
the sun, which was already at its setting. So, matching mine to
the trusty steps of my Master, I issued forth from such a cloud
to rays already dead on the low shores.
O power imaginative, that dost sometimes so steal us from outward
things that a man heeds it not, although around him a thousand
trumpets sound, who moveth thee if the sense afford thee naught?
A light, that in the heavens is formed, moveth thee by itself, or
by a will that downward guides it?
[1] If the imagination is not stirred by some object of sense, it
is moved by the influence of the stars, or directly by the Divine
will.
In my imagination appeared the impress of the impiety of her[1]
who changed her form into the bird that most delights in singing.
And here was my mind so shut up within itself that from without
came nothing which then might he received by it. Then rained down
within my high fantasy, one crucified,[2] scornful and fierce in
his look, and thus was dying. Around him were the great
Ahasuerus, Esther his wife, and the just Mordecai, who was in
speech and action so blameless. And when this imagination burst
of itself, like a bubble for which the water fails, beneath which
it was made, there rose in my vision a maiden,[3] weeping
bitterly, and she was saying, "O queen, wherefore through anger
hast thou willed to be naught? Thou hast killed thyself in order
not to lose Lavinia: now thou hast lost me: I am she who mourns,
mother, at thine, before another's ruin.
[1] Progne or Philomela, according to one or the other version of
the tragic myth, was changed into the nightingale, after her
anger had led her to take cruel vengeance on Tereus.
[2] Haman, who, according to the English version, was hanged, but
according to the Vulgate, was crucified--Esther, vii.
[3] Lavinia, whose mother, Amata, killed herself in a rage at
hearing premature report of the death of Turnus, to whom she
desired that Lavinia should be married.--Aeneid, xii. 595-607.
As sleep is broken, when of a sudden the new light strikes the
closed eyes, and, broken, quivers ere it wholly dies, so my
imagining fell down, soon as a light, greater by far than that to
which we are accustomed, struck my face. I turned me to see where
I was, when a voice said, "Here is the ascent;" which from every
other object of attention removed me, and made my will so eager
to behold who it was that was, speaking that it never rests till
it is face to face. But, as before the sun which weighs down our
sight, and by excess veils its own shape, so here my power
failed. "This is a divine spirit who directs us, without our
asking, on the way to go up, and with his own light conceals
himself. He does for us as a man doth for himself; for he who
sees the need and waits for asking, malignly sets himself already
to denial. Now let us grant our feet to such an invitation; let
us hasten to ascend ere it grows dark, for after, it would not be
possible until the day returns." Thus said my Guide; and I and he
turned our steps to a stairway. And soon as I was on the first
step, near use I felt a motion as of wings, and a fanning on my
face,[1] and I heard said, "Beati pacifici,'[2] who are without
ill anger."
[1] By which the angel removes the third P from Dante's brow.
[2] "Blessed are the peacemakers."
Now were the last sunbeams on which the night follows so lifted
above us, that the stars were appearing on many sides. "O my
virtue, why dost thou so melt away?" to myself I said, for I felt
the power of my legs put in truce. We had come where the stair no
farther ascends, and we were stayed fast even as a ship that
arrives at the shore. And I listened a little, if I might hear
anything in the new circle. Then I turned to my Master, and said,
"My sweet Father, say what offence is purged here in the circle
where we are: if the feet are stopped, let not thy discourse
stop." And he to me, "The love of good, less than it should have
been, is here restored;[1] here is plied again the ill-slackened
oar. But that thou mayst still more clearly understand, turn thy
mind to me, and thou shalt gather some good fruit from our delay.
[1] It is the round on which the sin of acedie, sloth, is purged
away.
"Neither Creator nor creature," began he, "son, ever was without
love, either natural, or of the mind,[1] and this thou knowest.
The natural is always without error; but the other may err either
through an evil object, or through too much or through too little
vigor. While love is directed on the primal goods, and on the
second moderates itself, it cannot be the cause of ill delight.
But when it is bent to evil,[2] or runs to good with more zeal,
or with less, than it ought, against the Creator works his own
creature. Hence thou canst comprehend that love needs must be the
seed in you of every virtue, and of every action that deserves
punishment.
[1] Either native in the soul, as the love of God, or determined
by the choice, through free will, of some object of desire in the
mind.
[2] A wrong object of desire.
"Now since love can never bend its sight from the welfare of its
subject,[1] all things are safe from hatred of themselves; and
since no being can be conceived of divided from the First,[2] and
standing by itself, from hating Him[3] every affection is cut
off. It follows, if, distinguishing, I rightly judge, that the
evil which is loved is that of one s neighbor; and in three modes
is this love born within your clay. There is he who hopes to
excel through the abasement of his neighbor, and only longs that
from his greatness he may be brought low.[4] There is he who
fears loss of power, favor, honor, fame, because another rises;
whereat he is so saddened that he loves the opposite.[5] And
there is he who seems so outraged by injury that it makes him
gluttonous of vengeance, and such a one must needs coin evil for
others.[6] This triform love is lamented down below.[7]
[1] To however wrong an object love may be directed, the person
always believes it to be for his own good.
[2]The source of being.
[3] God, the First Cause.
[4] This is the nature of Pride.
[5] Envy.
[6] Anger.
[7] In the three lower rounds of Purgatory.
"Now I would that thou hear of the other,--that which runs to the
good in faulty measure. Every one confusedly apprehends a good[1]
in which the mind may be at rest, and which it desires; wherefore
every one strives to attain it. If the love be slack that draws
you to see this, or to acquire it, this cornice, after just
repentance, torments you therefor. Another good there is,[2]
which doth not make man happy, is not happiness, is not the good
essence, the root of every good fruit. The love which abandons
itself too much to this[3] is lamented above us in three circles,
but how it is reckoned tripartite, I am silent, in order that
thou seek it for thyself."
[1] The supreme Good.
[2] Sensual enjoyment.
[2] Resulting in the sins of avarice, gluttony, and lust.
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