Purgatorio
Canto III
As the two poets proceed towards the mountain, Dante notes that he casts a shadow but that Virgil does not. Virgil calms Dante’s perplexities. They arrive at the foot of the mountain and are baffled by the precipitous face of it, when a troop of spirits approaches and by these they are directed. One of their number is Manfred, son of the Emperor Frederick II and King of Sicily. He tells of his death at the battle of Benevento and the contumely done to his body by order of Pope Clement IV. Because he died excommunicate, though repenting at death, he is doomed to a long period of wandering in this Ante-Purgatory.
ALTHOUGH in hurry so impetuous
They fled, and o’er the plain were scattered wide,
Turned toward the Mount where Justice probeth us,
I pressed me close unto my trusted Guide.
How without him could I have dared to start?
Who would have drawn me up the mountain-side?
Reproach of self seemed biting at his heart.
O honourable conscience, clear and chaste,
How small a fault stings thee to bitter smart!
Soon as his feet had cast aside the haste [10]
Which in all action marreth dignity,
My mind, which heretofore was self-encased,
Enlarged its scope, to eager search set free,
And I addressed me to the mount, whose head
Loftiest rises heavenward from the sea.
The sun that was behind us flaming red
Was broken before me in the shape that I
Opposed obstruction to the beams he shed.
I turned me aside, put into fear thereby
Of being abandoned, when from me alone [20]
I saw on the earth in front a shadow lie.
Already had my comforter begun,
Turning full round: “Why art thou still afeared?
Believ’st thou not I am with thee and guide thee on?
Now is it evening there, where is interred[i]25-27. “Is it evening there . . .”: in Italy. Virgil died in Brindisi, but was buried in Naples.
The body within which I shadow made.
Naples has it, from Brindisi transferred.
If, then, before me nothing lies in shade,
Marvel not more than at the heavens, wherein
The light of one doth the other not invade. [30][ii]30. The nine concentric heavens are transparent.
That power disposes bodies like to mine
In torments both of heat and frost to weep
Which wills not that its workings we divine.
He is mad who hopes that reason in its sweep
The infinite way can traverse back and forth
Which the Three Persons in one substance keep.
With the quia stay content, children of earth![iii]37-42. “Quia”: because. The meaning is: be satisfied with knowing the effects. If man had been all-knowing, there would have been no sin, and consequently no atonement; and, if human knowledge had sufficed, the vain longing of the ancient sages (which torments them through eternity) would have been satisfied.
For if the whole before your eyes had lain,
No need was there for Mary to give birth.
Ye have seen desiring without fruit, in vain, [40]
Men such that their desire had been at rest,
Which now is given them for eternal pain.
Of Aristotle’s and of Plato’s quest
I speak, and many more.” His head he sank
Here, and no more said, and remained distrest.
Meanwhile we had come up to the mountain’s flank.
There at its foot we found the rock so sheer,
Vainly would legs be limber on that bank.
'Twixt Lerice and Turbia the most bare,[iv]49. Between these places the mountains descend steeply to the sea.
Most broken landslide, for the going up, [50]
Compared to this an easy ladder were.
“Now who knows on which hand the scarp may slope
So,” said my Master, as his steps he stayed,
“That one without wings to ascend may hope?”
And while, his forehead holding low, he made
Scrutiny of the nature of the road,
And I the rock above all round surveyed,
On the left hand a company now showed
Of spirits who moved their feet toward where we were
And yet seemed not to move, so slow they trod. [60]
Said I to the Master: “Lift thine eyes, for there
Behold one who will give us counsel soon,
If of thyself thou hast none to declare.”
He eyed them, and with gladness frankly shown
Replied: “Let us go thither, for full slow
They come, and thou, confirm thy hope, sweet son.”
Still was that folk so far, I mean even now
When we had made a thousand paces, as
A good thrower with his hand would throw,
When they all pressed up to the stony mass [70]
Of the high cliff and stood, crowding and checked,
As he who goes in doubt halteth to gaze.
“O ye, well-ended, spirits already elect,”
Virgil began, “by that perpetual peace
Which, as I think, ye all look to expect,
Tell us where slopes the mountain by degrees
Such, that it may be possible to ascend;
For him who knows most lost hours most displease.”
As sheep come from the fold where they were penned
By one, by two, by three; and, eye and nose [80]
Keeping to earth, timid the others stand;
And what the first one does the other does,
All simple and quiet in their ignorance,
And, if she stand still, huddle to her close;
So I beheld now moving to advance
Toward us, the leader of that happy flock,
With stately gait and modest countenance.
When those in front perceived how the light broke
Its beams upon the ground on my right flank
So that I cast a shadow upon the rock, [90]
They halted and a little backward shrank;
And those now coming after into view,
Not knowing why, with the others all kept rank.
“Without your question, I avow to you,
This is a man whose body ye perceive,
Whereby on the earth the light is cloven through.
“Marvel you not for this cause, but believe
That not without power which from Heaven he took
He seeks this wall’s surmounting to achieve.”
The Master thus; and that most worthy folk [100]
Said: “Turn then, and before us enter ye.”
With the back of the hand they signed, as thus they spoke.
And one of them began: “Whoe’er thou be,
Turn thy face, as thou goest thus beyond:
Consider if ever on earth thou sawest me.”
I turned and fixedly looked on him: blond
He was, and beautiful, of noble mien;
But one eye-brow was cleft by a great wound.
I disclaimed humbly ever to have seen
His person; then “Look on my breast,” he said, [110]
And showed me, above, a scar upon the skin,
Smiling he spoke: “Manfred am I, Manfred,[v]112. “Manfred am I . . .”: see the Argument. Handsome, cultivated, winning, Manfred was the idolised chief of the Ghibellines, and the hated and excommunicated opponent of the Papacy. In 1266, on a plain near Benevento, he was defeated and slain by Charles of Anjou. His body was interred on the battlefield, but Pope Clement IV sent the Archbishop of Cosenza (see line 124) to cast out the corpse, and Manfred’s remains were deposited on the bank of the Verde river (see line 131).
The grandson of Constantia, the Empress;[vi]113-116. “Constantia, the Empress” was the daughter of Roger II of Sicily, the last of the Norman kings. Manfred’s “fair daughter” is Constance (see also line 143), the mother of Frederick and James, who became kings respectively of Sicily and Aragon.
Wherefore I pray thee, when thou art homeward sped,
Seek my fair daughter, her who mother is
Of the glory of Sicily and of Aragon,
And if she have heard aught different, tell her this.
After two mortal strokes had quite fordone
My broken frame, myself did I commit,
Weeping, to him whose mercy spurneth none. [120]
Horrible were my sins; but the infinite
Goodness hath arms so wide in their embrace
That it accepts that which turns back to it.
And if Cosenza’s pastor, who in chase
Of me was sent by Clement, had but once
Read well in God the rubric of his grace,
Still at the bridge-head would my body’s bones
Be found near Benevento, as at first,
Under the guard of the heaped, heavy stones.
Now by the rains they are washed, by winds dispersed [130]
Forth of the Kingdom, beside Verde tost,
Whither he had borne them with quenched lights, accurst.
Not through their malediction is one lost
So, that eternal love cannot relent
So long as hope has aught of green to boast.
True it is that whoso, though he at last repent,
In contumacy of Holy Church hath died,
Must stay without this bank, refused the ascent,
For thirty-fold the time that in the pride
Of his presumption he remained, unless [140]
In prayers to abridge that term he may confide.
See if thou canst not aid my happiness
One day, revealing to my good Constance
How thou hast seen me, and also this duress;[vii]144. Manfred believes that his daughter will shorten by prayer his term of exclusion.
For here can those there much our weal advance.”