The Divine Comedy — Dante Alighieri

Line 19. Either Philomel or her sister Progne is here alluded to, some poets having translated the latter also into the nightingale, Philomel, to avenge the insult received from her brother-in-law, Tereus, killed his son Itis, and gave some of the flesh to the father as food. Ovid's Metam., book vi. Line 26. The end of Haman : Esther, chap. vii.

196 PURGATORY. Cauto XVII. The great Ahasuerus, and his bride Esther were round, and justest Mordecai, He, both in speech and act so trusty tried. ^ And as this image, yanishing away Broke of itself as bursts a bubble, made Of falling water, when does cease the spray : There rose upon my vision a young maid Weeping aloud, and saying, " O my queen ^^ . In anger wherefore have yourself betrayed ? To save Lavinia, you yourself have slain : Now you have lost me : mother, these sad eyes More than all other, your destruction 'plain." As breaks slumber, when in sudden wise ^^ Upon the closM lids new light is thrown. Which broken, struggles, as it wholly dies : So my imaginations fell adown. Soon as there smote upon my face the light. Far stronger than to mortal usance known. ** Where I might be, I turned to take in sight. When there exclaimed a voice, " One mounts here,** Which from all other purpose won me quite : And made my eagerness so great to peer Upon that form, who thus our steps did hail,' ^ That rest it could not till it saw hun near. But as against the sun the sight does fail. Which veils its figure through excess of light, So was my virtue here of no avail. " A spirit divine is this, who on the height ** Without a prayer, the passage upwards shows, Himself concealing with his glory bright. He treats us as a man himself would use ; For who so waits for prayer, who need does see. Already he malignly does refuse. ^ To such inviting let our feet agree: To mount ere it grows darker, let us haste ; Later we could not, till returns the day.'* So spake my leader, and together prest Our footsteps, turning to the stairs that spire : ^ Soon as my foot on the first step I placed, I felt the moving of a pinion nigher. And air blown o'er my face, and voices cried, Beati Fadfici, who're free from ire." Line 34. Lavinia, mourning over the snicide of her mother Amata, who killed herself on the supposed death of Tumus. " ^neid," lib. xii. Line &7- The Angel removes another P from Dante's brow, the sin of wrath having boen purified. Beati Fadfici, Matt. v. 9.

Canto XVII. PURGATORY. 197 Fao- overhead already we descried ^® The last sunrays, on which there follows night, So that the stars appeared on every side. ** virtue mine, why do you take your flight ?" Unto myself I asked, as I perceived The vigour of my limbs then fail me quite. We now had mounted, where no more upheaved The staircase upwards, and we there were stayed. Like to a vessel at the port arrived. A little while intently I surveyed Something to hear upon that circle new. Then to my master turned me, and I said : " Sweet father mine, what sin will meet our view. Purged here upon this circle where we are. Though the feet halt, halt not the converse true." And he to me : ** The love of what is fair ^ When less than it should be, is here restored : The tardy oar the boatman plies here. But that more clearly this be not ignored. To me address your mind, and you shall bring From our delay some useful fruitage stored. Neither Creator, nor created thing, Was ever without love, you know'st, my son , Or natural, or that from choice does spring. The natural can ne'er to error wonne. But through wrong object can the other err. Or by excess or lack of vigour shown. The while on Heavenly objects it does steer. Or upon earthly ones does measure keep. To evil joy it cannot minister. But when to ill 'tis turned, or with more deep Or lighter will than right, on good is fain. Works 'gainst its Maker, the created shape. Hence you can comprehend, that like to grain In you each virtue springs from love's seed, And every action which does merit pain. Now since Love's bent was never yet agreed Save to the welfare of its object dear. From its own hatred everything is freed. And since the intellect we cannot sheer . From the primal efllaence, standing all alone. From hating that, the mental instinct's clear.