Canto 7

After the becoming and glad salutations had been repeated three and four times, Sordello drew back and said, “Ye, who are ye?” “Before the souls worthy to ascend to God were turned unto this mountain, my bones had been buried by Octavian; I am Virgil, and for no other sin did I lose heaven, but for not having faith,” thus then replied my Leader.

After they had exchanged their fitting and joyful greetings three or four times, Sordello stepped back and said, “Who are you?” My guide replied, “Before the souls worthy to ascend to God were sent to this mountain, Octavian had buried my bones. I am Virgil. I lost heaven for no sin other than my lack of faith.”

As is he who suddenly sees a thing before him whereat he marvels, and doth and doth not believe, saying, “It is, it is not,”—so seemed that shade, and then he bent down his brow, and humbly turned again toward him and embraced him where the inferior takes hold.

The shade seemed like someone who suddenly sees something astonishing and both believes and disbelieves it, saying, “It is, it is not.” Then the shade bowed his head, humbly turned back toward him, and embraced him as a person of lower rank would.

“O glory of the Latins,” said he, “through whom our language showed what it could do, O honor eternal of the place wherefrom I was, what merit or what grace shows thee to me? If I am worthy to hear thy words, tell me if thou comest from Hell, and from what cloister.” “Through all the circles of the realm of woe,” replied he to him, “am I come hither; Power of Heaven moved me, and with it I come. Not by doing, but by not doing have I lost the sight of the high Sun whom thou desirest, and who by me was known late. A place there is below not sad with torments but with darkness only, where the lamentations sound not as wailings, but are sighs; there stay I with the little innocents bitten by the teeth of death before they were exempt from human sin; there stay I with those who were not vested with the three holy virtues, and without vice knew the others and followed all of them.⁶⁴ But if thou knowest and canst, give us some direction whereby we may come more speedily there where Purgatory has its true beginning.” He replied, “A certain place is not set for us; it is permitted me to go upward and around; so far as I can go I join myself to thee as guide. But see how already the day declines, and to go up by night is not possible; therefore it is well to think of some fair sojourn. There are souls here on the right apart; if thou consentest to me I will lead thee to them, and not without delight will they be known to thee.” “How is this?” was answered, “he who might wish to ascend by night, would he be hindered by another, or would he not be able to ascend?” And the good Sordello drew his finger on the ground, saying, “See, only this line thou couldst not pass after set of sun; not because aught else save the nocturnal darkness would give hindrance to going up; that hampers the will with impotence.⁶⁵ One could, indeed, in it⁶⁶ turn downward and walk the hillside wandering around, while the horizon holds the day shut up.” Then my Lord, as if wondering, said, “Lead us, then, there where thou sayest one may have delight while waiting.”

“O glory of the Latins,” he said, “you showed what our language could do. You are the eternal honor of the place I came from. What merit or grace allows me to see you? If I am worthy to hear your words, tell me whether you come from Hell, and from which cloister.” “I came here through all the circles of the realm of woe,” he replied. “Heaven’s power set me in motion, and it brings me here. I lost the sight of the high Sun you desire, not through what I did, but through what I failed to do. I came to know him too late. There is a place below where the only sorrow is darkness, not torment. There, the laments are not cries of anguish, but sighs. I remain there with innocent little children, struck down by death before they were freed from human sin. I also remain there with those who did not possess the three holy virtues. They knew the other virtues without vice and followed them all.⁶⁴ But if you know and can, show us a way to reach the true beginning of Purgatory more quickly.” He replied, “No fixed place is assigned to us. I am allowed to go upward and around the mountain. I will join you as a guide for as far as I can go. But look, the day is already declining, and no one can climb at night. So we should find a pleasant place to stay. There are souls apart from the others here on the right. If you agree, I will lead you to them, and you will delight in meeting them.” “How is that?” came the answer. “If someone wished to climb at night, would another prevent him, or would he be unable to climb?” Good Sordello drew a line on the ground with his finger and said, “See, you could not cross even this line after sunset. Nothing but the darkness of night would prevent you from climbing. The darkness weakens the will and makes it powerless.⁶⁵ In it,⁶⁶ one could still turn downward and wander around the hillside, while the horizon keeps the daylight shut away.” Then my Lord said, as if in wonder, “Lead us, then, to the place you speak of, where we may take delight while we wait.”

Little way had we gone from that place, when I perceived that the mountain was hollowed out in like fashion as the valleys hollow them here on earth. “Yonder,” said that shade, “will we go, where the hillside makes a lap of itself, and there will we await the new day.” Between steep and level was a winding path that led us into a side of the dale, where more than by half the edge dies away. Gold and fine silver, and scarlet and white, Indian wood lucid and clear,⁶⁷ fresh emerald at the instant it is split, would each be vanquished in color by the herbage and by the flowers set within that valley, as by its greater the less is vanquished. Nature had not only painted there, but with sweetness of a thousand odors she made there one unknown and blended.

We had not gone far from that place when I saw that the mountain was hollowed out, like valleys on earth. “We will go over there,” said the shade, “where the hillside forms a hollow, and wait there for the new day.” A winding path, neither steep nor level, led us into the side of the valley, where the edge slopes down more than halfway. Gold, fine silver, scarlet and white, clear, gleaming Indian wood,⁶⁷ and a freshly split emerald would each be outshone by the grass and flowers in that valley, just as a greater beauty outshines a lesser one. Nature had not only painted the valley. She had also blended the sweetness of a thousand scents into one unfamiliar fragrance.

Upon the green and upon the flowers I saw souls who, because of the valley, were not visible from without, seated here singing “Salve regina.” ⁶⁸ “Before the lessening sun sinks to his nest,” began the Mantuan who had turned us thither, “desire not that among these I guide you. From this bank ye will better become acquainted with the acts and countenances of all of them, than received among them on the level below. He who sits highest and has the semblance of having neglected what he should have done, and who moves not his mouth to the others’ songs, was Rudolph the Emperor, who might have healed the wounds that have slain Italy, so that slowly by another she is revived.⁶⁹ The next, who in appearance comforts him, ruled the land where the water rises that Moldau bears to Elbe, and Elbe to the sea. Ottocar was his name,⁷⁰ and in his swaddling clothes he was better far than bearded Wenceslaus, his son, whom luxury and idleness feed.⁷¹ And that small-nosed one, who seems close in counsel with him who has so benign an aspect, died in flight and disflowering the lily;⁷² look there how he beats his breast. See the next who, sighing, has made a bed for his cheek with his hand.⁷³ Father and father-in-law are they of the harm of France; they know his vicious and foul life, and thence comes the grief that so pierces them. He who looks so large-limbed,⁷⁴ and who accords in singing with him of the masculine nose,⁷⁵ wore girt the cord of every worth, and if the youth that is sitting behind him had followed him as king, truly had worth gone from vase to vase, which cannot be said of the other heirs: James and Frederick hold the realms;⁷⁶ the better heritage no one possesses. Rarely doth human goodness rise through the branches, and this He wills who gives it, in order that it may be asked from Him. To the large-nosed one also my words apply not less than to the other, Peter, who is singing with him; wherefore Apulia and Provence are grieving now.⁷⁷ The plant is as inferior to its seed, as, more than Beatrice and Margaret, Constance still boasts of her husband.⁷⁸ See the King of the simple life sitting there alone, Henry of England; he in his branches hath a better issue.⁷⁹ That one who lowest among them sits on the ground, looking upward, is William the marquis,⁸⁰ for whom Alessandria and her war make Montferrat and the Canavese mourn.”

On the grass and among the flowers, I saw souls seated and singing “Salve regina.” ⁶⁸ The valley hid them from view outside. The Mantuan, who had led us there, began: “Do not ask me to guide you among them before the setting sun sinks to its nest. From this bank, you will see their actions and faces better than if you joined them on the level ground below. “The one sitting highest looks as though he neglected what he should have done. He does not join the others in song. He was Emperor Rudolph, who could have healed the wounds that have killed Italy. Now another is slowly bringing her back to life.⁶⁹ The next soul seems to comfort him. He ruled the land where the water rises that the Moldau carries to the Elbe, and the Elbe to the sea. His name was Ottocar,⁷⁰ and even as a baby he was far better than his bearded son Wenceslaus, who lives on luxury and idleness.⁷¹ “And that small-nosed man seems to be conferring closely with the one who looks so kind. He died in flight, bringing disgrace on the lily.⁷² Look how he beats his breast. See the next one, sighing, with his cheek resting in his hand.⁷³ They are the father and father-in-law of the man who is France’s ruin. They know his wicked and foul life, and that is the source of their piercing grief. “The large-limbed man⁷⁴ is singing in harmony with the man with the manly nose.⁷⁵ He wore the girdle of every virtue. If the young man sitting behind him had followed him as king, virtue would truly have passed from one vessel to another. The same cannot be said of his other heirs. James and Frederick hold the realms,⁷⁶ but neither possesses the better inheritance. Human goodness rarely passes from parent to child. He who gives goodness wills it so, in order that people may ask him for it. “My words apply no less to the large-nosed man than to Peter, who is singing with him. That is why Apulia and Provence are grieving now.⁷⁷ The plant is as inferior to its seed as Constance still has more reason to boast of her husband than Beatrice and Margaret have to boast of theirs.⁷⁸ See Henry of England, the king of simple life, sitting there alone. His descendants are better than he was.⁷⁹ The one sitting lowest on the ground, looking upward, is William the marquis.⁸⁰ For his sake, Alessandria and her war bring grief to Montferrat and the Canavese.”