O German Albert! who abandonest
Her that has grown recalcitrant and savage,And oughtest to bestride her saddle-bow,
May a just judgment from the stars down fallUpon thy blood, and be it new and open,That thy successor may have fear thereof;
Because thy father and thyself have suffered,By greed of those transalpine lands distrained,The garden of the empire to be waste.
Come and behold Montecchi and Cappelletti,Monaldi and Fillippeschi, careless man!Those sad already, and these doubt-depressed!
Come, cruel one! come and behold the oppressionOf thy nobility, and cure their wounds,And thou shalt see how safe is Santafiore!
Come and behold thy Rome, that is lamenting,Widowed, alone, and day and night exclaims,“My Caesar, why hast thou forsaken me?”
Come and behold how loving are the people;And if for us no pity moveth thee,Come and be made ashamed of thy renown!
And if it lawful be, O Jove Supreme!Who upon earth for us wast crucified,Are thy just eyes averted otherwhere?
Or preparation is ’t, that, in the abyssOf thine own counsel, for some good thou makestFrom our perception utterly cut off?
For all the towns of Italy are fullOf tyrants, and becometh a MarcellusEach peasant churl who plays the partisan!
My Florence! well mayst thou contented beWith this digression, which concerns thee not,Thanks to thy people who such forethought take!
Many at heart have justice, but shoot slowly,That unadvised they come not to the bow,But on their very lips thy people have it!
Many refuse to bear the common burden;But thy solicitous people answerethWithout being asked, and crieth: “I submit.”
Now be thou joyful, for thou hast good reason;Thou affluent, thou in peace, thou full of wisdom!If I speak true, the event conceals it not.
Athens and Lacedaemon, they who madeThe ancient laws, and were so civilized,Made towards living well a little sign
Compared with thee, who makest such fine-spunProvisions, that to middle of NovemberReaches not what thou in October spinnest.
How oft, within the time of thy remembrance,Laws, money, offices, and usagesHast thou remodelled, and renewed thy members?
And if thou mind thee well, and see the light,Thou shalt behold thyself like a sick woman,Who cannot find repose upon her down,
But by her tossing wardeth off her pain.
Purgatorio: Canto VII
After the gracious and glad salutationsHad three and four times been reiterated,Sordello backward drew and said, “Who are you?”
“Or ever to this mountain were directedThe souls deserving to ascend to God,My bones were buried by Octavian.
I am Virgilius; and for no crime elseDid I lose heaven, than for not having faith;”In this wise then my Leader made reply.
As one who suddenly before him seesSomething whereat he marvels, who believesAnd yet does not, saying, “It is! it is not!”
So he appeared; and then bowed down his brow,And with humility returned towards him,And, where inferiors embrace, embraced him.
“O glory of the Latians, thou,” he said,“Through whom our language showed what it could doO pride eternal of the place I came from,
What merit or what grace to me reveals thee?If I to hear thy words be worthy, tell meIf thou dost come from Hell, and from what cloister.”
“Through all the circles of the doleful realm,”Responded he, “have I come hitherward;Heaven’s power impelled me, and with that I come.
I by not doing, not by doing, lostThe sight of that high sun which thou desirest,And which too late by me was recognized.
A place there is below not sad with torments,But darkness only, where the lamentationsHave not the sound of wailing, but are sighs.
There dwell I with the little innocentsSnatched by the teeth of Death, or ever theyWere from our human sinfulness exempt.
There dwell I among those who the three saintlyVirtues did not put on, and without viceThe others knew and followed all of them.
But if thou know and can, some indicationGive us by which we may the sooner comeWhere Purgatory has its right beginning.”
He answered: “No fixed place has been assigned us;’Tis lawful for me to go up and round;So far as I can go, as guide I join thee.
But see already how the day declines,And to go up by night we are not able;Therefore ’tis well to think of some fair sojourn.
Souls are there on the right hand here withdrawn;If thou permit me I will lead thee to them,And thou shalt know them not without delight.”
“How is this?” was the answer; “should one wishTo mount by night would he prevented beBy others? or mayhap would not have power?”
And on the ground the good Sordello drewHis finger, saying, “See, this line aloneThou couldst not pass after the sun is gone;
Not that aught else would hindrance give, however,To going up, save the nocturnal darkness;This with the want of power the will perplexes.
We might indeed therewith return below,And, wandering, walk the hill-side round about,While the horizon holds the day imprisoned.”
Thereon my Lord, as if in wonder, said:“Do thou conduct us thither, where thou sayestThat we can take delight in tarrying.”
Little had we withdrawn us from that place,When I perceived the mount was hollowed outIn fashion as the valleys here are hollowed.
“Thitherward,” said that shade, “will we repair,Where of itself the hill-side makes a lap,And there for the new day will we await.”
’Twixt hill and plain there was a winding pathWhich led us to the margin of that dell,Where dies the border more than half away.
Gold and fine silver, and scarlet and pearl-white,The Indian wood resplendent and serene,Fresh emerald the moment it is broken,
By herbage and by flowers within that hollowPlanted, each one in colour would be vanquished,As by its greater vanquished is the less.
Nor in that place had nature painted only,But of the sweetness of a thousand odoursMade there a mingled fragrance and unknown.
“Salve Regina,” on the green and flowersThere seated, singing, spirits I beheld,Which were not visible outside the valley.
“Before the scanty sun now seeks his nest,”Began the Mantuan who had led us thither,“Among them do not wish me to conduct you.
Better from off this ledge the acts and facesOf all of them will you discriminate,Than in the plain below received among them.
He who sits highest, and the semblance bearsOf having what he should have done neglected,And to the others’ song moves not his lips,
Rudolph the Emperor was, who had the powerTo heal the wounds that Italy have slain,So that through others slowly she revives.
The other, who in look doth comfort him,Governed the region where the water springs,The Moldau bears the Elbe, and Elbe the sea.
His name was Ottocar; and in swaddling-clothesFar better he than bearded WinceslausHis son, who feeds in luxury and ease.
And the small-nosed, who close in council seemsWith him that has an aspect so benign,Died fleeing and disflowering the lily;
Look there, how he is beating at his breast!Behold the other one, who for his cheekSighing has made of his own palm a bed;