to a
point, fixed. on to
Purga
DANTE, attempting to escape from the valley of sin, ascend the hill of virtue, is driven back by three wild The poet Virgil comes to his assistance.
In the midway of this our life below,
I found myself within a gloomy wood,— No traces left, the path lirect to show. Ah! what a painful task to tell how drear, How savage, and how rank that forest stood, Which e'en to think upon renews my fear! More bitter scarcely death itself can be.
But to disclose the good which there I found, I will relate what else 'twas mine to see. How first I enter'd, it is hard to say ;
In such deep slumber were my senses bound, When from the path of truth I went astray.
But soon as I had reach'd a mountain's base,
(Where the low vale that struck me with dismay Obtains a limit to its dreadful space)
I look'd on high, and saw its shoulders bright Already with that glorious planet's ray Which guideth man through every path aright. Then was awhile allay'd the chilling fear That still within my heart's lake trembling stood, The night I pass'd in anguish so severe : And like to one all breathless-who at last
Escaped ashore from out the perilous flood, Turns to the wave, and gazing, stands aghast; E'en so my mind, though yet intent on flight,
Turn'd backward, to review that vale of gloom Which never spared the life of mortal wight. Soon as my weary frame had rest obtain'd,
Up the lone steep my journey I resume;
But firmer still the lowest foot remain'd. To climb the ascent I scarcely had essay'd, When lo! an agile Panther barr'd my way, Exceeding swift, in spotted coat array'd. Confronting me, she plied her nimble feet,
And in my progress caused me such delay, That oft I turn'd with purpose to retreat.
It was the hour when morning dawns on high;
And now the sun was rising in the east,
With those fair stars that bore him company, When Love Divine first launch'd them in the sky Thus happy omens now my hope encreased-
The Panther's coat that shone with brilliant dye The season sweet, and early morning bright: Not that without dismay I saw appear
A Lion's form that burst upon my sight: With ravening hunger, and uplifted head,
He came against me in his fell career;→ Methought the very air partook of dread: A She-Wolf too; who in her meagreness Seem'd by innumerable wants possess❜d, And many a one had brought to sore distress. With terror were her glaring eyeballs fired;
And thence my soul was by such weight oppres I lost all hope to win that mount desired : And e'en as one intent to swell his stores,
When comes the hour that sweepeth them away Gives up his thoughts to grief, and still deplores Such I became, as that impatient brute Approaching nearer fill'd me with dismay,
And drove me back to where the sun is mute. A 2
While sadly I retraced my former course
Down to the vale,-before me I descried
One, who by long disuse of speech was hoarse. Him when I saw on that wide desert coast,
"Have pity, whatsoe'er thou be," I cried"Or living man, or melancholy ghost."
"Not man," he answered, "though I once was man ; 67 My parents were of Lombardy; and they In Mantua both their mortal journey ran. Ere Julius won his power, I had my birth, And lived at Rome beneath Augustus' sway, When false and lying gods prevail'd on earth. A bard I was; and sang that just one's fame- Anchises' son,-who left the Trojan shore, When fell proud Ilion, wrapt in hostile flame. But why returnest thou to such annoy?
Why dost thou climb yon pleasant mount no more- The origin and cause of every joy?"
With looks abash'd I answer'd, bending low:
"Art thou that Virgil then-that fountain clear, Whence streams of eloquence so richly flow? O thou, of bards the honour and the light, Let my long study of thy volume dear, And mighty love gain favour in thy sight.
My master thou-my author most admired; To thee alone that beauteous style I owe, Which for my name such honour hath acquired Behold the beast which caused me to retreat!
Protection from her wrath, great sage, bestow; Through fear my every vein and pulse doth bea "Thee it behoves another path to take,"
He answer'd, (seeing how my sorrow flow'd,) "If thou this savage desert would'st forsake ; For know-the beast, which fills thee with dismay Permitteth none to journey o'er her road,
But hinders sore, till she destroys her prey. So vile her nature-so disposed to ill,
Her ravenous wants she ne'er can satisfy; And food but serves to whet her hunger still. She links herself to many an animal;
And till the Greyhound come, to make her die A painful death, yet more will she enthral. (Him neither land nor lucre shall sustain,
By love, by wisdom, and by virtue fed : From Feltro e'en to Feltro shall he reign. His might Italia's lowly plains shall save,
For which Euryalus and Nisus bled, Turnus the king, Camilla, virgin brave.)
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