Purgatorio (40 page)

               
‘O you on the far side of the sacred stream,’   
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turning the point of her words on me   
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that had seemed sharp enough when I felt their edge,

               
she then went on without a pause: ‘Say it,

               
say if this is true. To such an accusation   
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your confession must be joined.’

               
My faculties were so confounded

               
that my voice struggled up but spent itself

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before it made its way out of my mouth.

               
For a moment she held back, then asked:   
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‘What are you thinking? Speak, for your memories

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of sin have not been washed away by water yet.’

               
Confusion and fear, mixed together,

               
drove from my mouth a
yes
—

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but one had need of eyes to hear it.

               
As a crossbow breaks with too much tension   
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from the pulling taut of cord and bow

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so that the arrow strikes the target with less force,

               
thus I collapsed beneath that heavy load

               
and, with a flood of tears and sighs,

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my voice came strangled from my throat.

               
At that she said to me: ‘In your desire for me   
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that guided you to love that good

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beyond which there is nothing left to long for,

               
‘what ditches or what chains did you encounter   
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across your path to make you cast aside

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all hope of going forward?

               
‘And what profit or advantage showed

               
in the face of other things so that you felt

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you must parade yourself before them?’

               
After heaving a bitter sigh   
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I hardly had the voice to give the answer

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my lips were laboring to shape.

               
In tears, I said: ‘Things set in front of me,   
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with their false delights, turned back my steps

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the moment that Your countenance was hidden.’   
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‘Had you stayed silent or denied what you confess,’   
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she said, ‘your fault would not be any less apparent

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since it is known to such a Judge.

               
‘But when a man’s own blushing cheek reveals

               
the condemnation of his sin, in our high court

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the grindstone dulls the sharp edge of the sword.

               
‘Nonetheless, so that you now may bear

               
the shame of your straying and the next time

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that you hear the Sirens’ call, be stronger,   
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‘stop sowing tears and listen.   
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Then you shall hear just how my buried flesh   
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should have directed you to quite a different place.

               
‘Never did art or nature set before you beauty

               
as great as in the lovely members that enclosed me,

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now scattered and reduced to dust.

               
‘And if the highest beauty failed you

               
in my death, what mortal thing

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should then have drawn you to desire it?

               
‘Indeed, at the very first arrow   
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of deceitful things, you should have risen up

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and followed me who was no longer of them.

               
‘You should not have allowed your wings to droop,   
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leaving you to other darts from some young girl

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or other novelty of such brief use.

               
‘The fledgling may allow even a third attempt,

               
but all in vain is the net flung or arrow shot   
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in sight of a full-fledged bird.’

               
As children in their shame stand mute, their eyes   
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upon the ground, listening,

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acknowledging their fault, repentant,

               
just so I stood. And then she said: ‘Now that

               
you are grieved by what you hear, lift up your beard   
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and you shall have more grief from what you see.’

               
With less resistance is the sturdy oak   
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torn from the earth, whether by our northern wind

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or by the one that blows from Iarbas’ lands,

               
than was my chin nudged up by her command.

               
When by my beard she sought my face

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I recognized the venom in her words.

               
And when I had raised my head

               
my eyes saw that those first-created beings   
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had paused in scattering their flowers

               
and, my vision blurred and still uncertain,

               
saw Beatrice turning toward the beast

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that is one person in two natures.   
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Even beneath her veil, even beyond the stream,   
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she seemed to surpass her former self in beauty

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more than she had on earth surpassed all others.

               
The nettle of remorse so stung me then   
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that whatever else had lured me most to loving

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had now become for me most hateful.

               
Such knowledge of my fault was gnawing at my heart

               
that I was overcome, and what I then became

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she knows who was the reason for my state.

               
Then, when my heart restored my vital signs,   
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I saw the lady I first found alone above me,

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saying: ‘Hold on to me and hold me fast!’

               
She drew me into the river up to my throat

               
and, pulling me along behind her, moved

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upon the water as lightly as a skiff.

               
When I had come close to the blessèd shore

               
I heard
‘Asperges me’
so sweetly sung

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that I cannot recall nor write it down.

               
The lovely lady spread her arms,

               
then clasped my head, and plunged me under,

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where I was forced to swallow water.

               
Then she drew me out and led me, bathed,   
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into the dance of the four lovely ladies

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as each one raised an arm above my head.

               
‘Here we are nymphs and in heaven we are stars.

               
Before Beatrice descended to the world

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we were ordained to serve her as her handmaids.

               
‘We will bring you to her eyes. But to receive   
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the joyous light they hold, the other three,

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who look much deeper into things, shall sharpen yours.’

               
Thus they began their song and then   
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they took me to the griffin’s breast,

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where Beatrice stood and faced us.

               
They said: ‘Do not withhold your gaze.   
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We have placed you here before the emeralds

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from which, some time ago, Love shot his darts.’

               
A thousand desires hotter than any flame

               
bound my eyes to those shining eyes,

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which still stayed fixed upon the griffin.

               
Even as the sun in a mirror, not otherwise

               
the twofold beast shone forth in them,

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now with the one, now with its other nature.   
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Consider, reader, whether I was struck by wonder   
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when I saw the thing itself remain as one

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but in its image ever changing.