Canto 1

To run over better waters the little vessel of my genius now hoists its sails, and leaves behind itself a sea so cruel; and I will sing of that second realm where the human spirit is purified and becomes worthy to ascend to heaven.

The little boat of my imagination now raises its sails for calmer waters, leaving a cruel sea behind. I will sing of that second realm, where the human spirit is purified and becomes worthy to rise to heaven.

But here let dead poesy rise again, O holy Muses, since yours I am, and here let Calliope somewhat mount up, accompanying my song with that sound of which the wretched Picae felt the stroke such that they despaired of pardon.¹

But here, let dead poetry rise again, O holy Muses, for I am yours. And here, let Calliope rise a little and accompany my song with her music. Its power struck the wretched Picae so hard that they gave up hope of pardon.¹

A sweet color of oriental sapphire, which was gathering in the serene aspect of the sky, pure even to the first circle,² renewed delight to my eyes soon as I issued forth from the dead air that had afflicted my eyes and my breast. The fair planet which incites to love was making all the Orient to smile, veiling the Fishes that were in her train.³ I turned me to the right hand, and fixed my mind upon the other pole, and saw four stars never seen save by the first people. The heavens appeared to rejoice in their flamelets. O widowed northern region, since thou art deprived of beholding these!

A soft color like eastern sapphire was spreading across the calm sky, which was clear to the first circle.² The sight delighted my eyes again as soon as I emerged from the dead air that had afflicted them and my chest. The beautiful planet that inspires love made the whole eastern sky smile, dimming the Fishes that followed her.³ I turned to the right and focused on the other pole. There I saw four stars that only the first people had ever seen. The heavens seemed to rejoice in their little flames. O widowed northern region, you are denied the sight of them!

When I had withdrawn from regarding them, turning me a little to the other pole, there whence the Wain had already disappeared, I saw close to me an old man alone, worthy in look of so much reverence that no son owes more unto his father.⁴ He wore a long beard and mingled with white hair, like his locks, of which a double list fell upon his breast. The rays of the four holy stars so adorned his face with light, that I saw him, as if the sun had been in front.

I turned away from looking at them and turned a little toward the other pole, where the Wain had already disappeared. Close beside me, I saw an old man standing alone. He looked so worthy of reverence that no son owes his father more.⁴ His long beard was streaked with white, like his hair, which fell in two strands onto his chest. The rays of the four holy stars lit his face so brightly that I could see him as if the sun were shining in front of him.

This old man, as soon appears, is the younger Cato, and the office here given to him of warden of the souls in the outer region of Purgatory was suggested by the position assigned to him by Virgil in the Aeneid, viii. 670. “Secretosque pios, his dantem jura Catonem.”

This old man, as we soon learn, is the younger Cato. His role here as warden of the souls in the outer region of Purgatory was suggested by Virgil’s portrayal of him in the Aeneid, viii. 670: “Secretosque pios, his dantem jura Catonem.”

It has been objected to Virgil’s thus putting him in Elysium, that as a suicide his place was in the Mourning Fields. A similar objection may be made to Dante’s separating him from the other suicides in the seventh circle of Hell (Canto XIII.). “But,” says Conington, “Virgil did not aim at perfect consistency. It was enough for him that Cato was one who from his character in life might be justly conceived of as lawgiver to the dead.” So Dante, using Cato as an allegoric figure, regards him as one who, before the coming of Christ, practised the virtues which are required to liberate the soul from sin, and who, as be says in the De Monarchia (ii. 5), “that he might kindle the love of liberty in the world, showed how precious it was, by preferring death with liberty to life without it.” This liberty is the type of that spiritual freedom which Dante is seeking, and which, being the perfect conformity of the human will to the will of God, is the aim and fruition of nil redeemed souls.

Some have objected to Virgil’s placing Cato in Elysium. They argue that, as a suicide, Cato belongs in the Mourning Fields. A similar objection may be made to Dante’s separating Cato from the other suicides in the seventh circle of Hell (Canto XIII.). “But,” says Conington, “Virgil did not aim at perfect consistency. It was enough for him that Cato was one who, from his character in life, could justly be imagined as a lawgiver to the dead.” Similarly, Dante uses Cato as an allegorical figure. He sees Cato as someone who, before the coming of Christ, practiced the virtues needed to free the soul from sin. As Dante says in the De Monarchia (ii. 5), Cato “showed how precious liberty was by choosing death with liberty over life without it, so that he might kindle a love of liberty in the world.” This liberty represents the spiritual freedom Dante is seeking. Such freedom means the complete alignment of the human will with the will of God. It is the goal and fulfillment of all redeemed souls.

In the region of Purgatory outside the gate, the souls have not yet attained this freedom; they are on the way to it, and Cato is allegorically fit to warn and spur them on.

In the part of Purgatory outside the gate, the souls have not yet gained this freedom. They are on their way to it, and Cato is a fitting allegorical figure to warn and encourage them.

“Who are ye that counter to the blind stream have fled from the eternal prison?” said he, moving those venerable plumes. “Who has guided you? Or who was a lamp to you, issuing forth from the deep night that ever makes the infernal valley black? Are the laws of the abyss thus broken? or is a new design changed in heaven that, being damned, ye come unto my rocks?”

“Who are you, who have fled the eternal prison against the blind stream?” he said, moving his venerable plumes. “Who guided you? Who lit your way out of the deep night that keeps the infernal valley forever dark? Have the laws of the abyss been broken? Or have heaven’s plans changed, so that you, though damned, can come to my rocks?”

My Leader then took hold of me, and with words, and with hands, and with signs, made my legs and my brow reverent. Then he answered him, “Of myself I came not; a Lady descended from Heaven, through whose prayers I succored this man with my company. But since it is thy will that more of our condition be unfolded to thee as it truly is, mine cannot be that to thee this be denied. This man has not seen his last evening, but through his folly was so near thereto that very little time there was to turn. Even as I have said, I was sent to him to rescue him, and there was no other way than this, along which I have set myself. I have shown to him all the guilty people; and now I intend to show him those spirits that purge themselves under thy ward. How I have led him, it would be long to tell thee; from on high descends power that aids me to conduct him to see thee and to hear thee. Now may it please thee to approve his coming. He goes seeking liberty, which is so dear, as he knows who for her refuses life. Thou knowest it, for death for her sake was not hitter to thee in Utica, where thou didst leave the garment that on the great day shall he so bright. The eternal edicts are not violated by us, for this one is alive, and Minos does not bind me; but I am of the circle where are the chaste eyes of thy Marcia, who in her look still prays thee, O holy breast, that for thine own thou hold her. For her love, then, incline thyself to us; let us go on through thy seven realms.⁵ Thanks unto thee will I carry back to her, if to be mentioned there below thou deign.”

My guide then took hold of me. With words, gestures, and signs, he made me kneel and bow my head in reverence. Then he answered him, “I did not come on my own. A Lady came down from Heaven and begged me to help this man by accompanying him. But you wish to know more about our true situation, and I cannot refuse to tell you. “This man has not seen his last evening. But his folly brought him so close to death that there was very little time to turn back. As I have said, I was sent to rescue him, and there was no other way than the one I have taken. I have shown him all the guilty people. Now I intend to show him the spirits who cleanse themselves under your care. It would take too long to tell you how I led him here. Power descends from on high to help me bring him to see and hear you. “Now please allow him to come. He seeks liberty, which is so dear, as anyone knows who gives up life for her sake. You know it, for death for liberty’s sake was not bitter to you in Utica. There you left the garment that will be so bright on the great day. We are not breaking the eternal laws, for this man is alive, and Minos does not bind me. But I am from the circle where your Marcia’s chaste eyes still gaze, begging you, O holy soul, to hold her as your own. For love of her, then, look kindly on us. Let us go on through your seven realms.⁵ I will carry your thanks back to her, if you will allow me to mention you down there.”

“Marcia so pleased my eyes while I was on earth,” said he then, “that whatsoever grace she wished from me I did it; now, that on the other side of the evil stream she dwells, she can no more move me, by that law which was made when thence I issued forth.⁶ But if a Lady of heaven move and direct thee, as thou sayest, there is no need of flattery; suffice it fully to thee that for her sake thou askest me. Go then, and see thou gird this one with a smooth rush, and that thou wash his face so that thou remove all sully from it, for it were not befitting to go with eye overcast by any cloud before the first minister that is of those of Paradise. This little island, round about at its base, down there yonder where the wave heats it, bears rushes upon its soft ooze. No plant of other kind, that might put forth leaf or grow hard, can there have life, because it yields not to the shocks. Thereafter let not your return be this way; the Sun which now is rising will show you to take the mountain by easier ascent.”

“Marcia was so pleasing to my eyes while I was on earth,” he said, “that I granted her every favor she wished for. Now she lives on the other side of the evil stream. She can no longer move me, because of the law made when I came forth from there.⁶ But if a Lady of heaven moves and directs you, as you say, there is no need for flattery. It is enough that you ask me for her sake. Go, then, and gird this man with a smooth rush. Wash his face, too, so that you remove all dirt from it. For it would not be fitting to appear with clouded eyes before the first minister of Paradise. Down there, where the waves beat against the foot of this little island, rushes grow all around it in the soft mud. No other kind of plant that might grow leaves or become hard can live there, because it cannot yield to the shocks. Afterward, do not return this way. The Sun, which is now rising, will show you an easier way up the mountain.”

So he disappeared, and I rose up, without speaking, and drew me close to my Leader, and turned my eyes to him. He began, “Son, follow my steps; let us turn back, for this plain slopes that way to its low limits.”

So he disappeared. I stood up without speaking, moved close to my guide, and looked at him. He said, “Son, follow me. Let us turn back, for the plain slopes down that way to its lowest edge.”

The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour which fled before it, so that from afar I discerned the trembling of the sea. We set forth over the solitary plain like a man who turns unto the road which he has lost, and, till he come to it, seems to himself to go in vain. When we were where the dew contends with the sun, and, through being in a place where there is shade, is little dissipated, my Master softly placed both his hands outspread upon the grass. Whereon I, who perceived his design, stretched toward him my tear-stained cheeks. Here he wholly uncovered that color of mine which hell had hidden on me.⁷

Dawn was overtaking the retreating hour before sunrise, and I could see the sea trembling in the distance. We set out across the deserted plain like a man trying to find a road he has lost. Until he finds it, he feels that every step is in vain. We came to a place where dew still resisted the sun. Because the spot was shady, little of the dew had evaporated. My Master gently spread both hands on the grass. Seeing what he intended, I held out my tear-stained cheeks to him. There he fully revealed my natural color, which hell had hidden beneath the grime.⁷

We came, then, to the desert shore that never saw navigate its waters one who afterwards had experience of return. Here he girt me, even as pleased the other. O marvel! that such as he plucked the humble plant, it instantly sprang up again there whence he tore it.⁸

We came to the deserted shore, whose waters no one had ever sailed and then returned. There he put a belt around me, as the other had wished. What a marvel! As soon as he plucked the humble plant, it sprang up again where he had pulled it out.⁸