Like two slow oxen harnessed in one yoke 1
I, bending almost double at his side,
crept onward till my gentle master spoke:
“Leave him; we must go faster now.” I did, 4
though inwardly depressed, but very soon
followed my leader eagerly. We seemed
lighter of foot. Said he, “Start looking down. 7
There’s splendid entertainment where we tread.”
As flat stones in a graveyard often show
carvings provoking memories and tears, 10
each vivid surface of the mountain street
was paved with wonders of mosaic art,
all showing penalties of too much pride. 13
I saw the noblest creature God first made
falling like lightning. On the other side
I saw the fifty-headed, hundred-armed 16
Briareus dismembered by Jove’s dart;
I saw Jove’s armoured children as they viewed
the scattered limbs – Apollo, Pallas, Mars; 19
I saw King Nimrod, Babel’s architect
bewildered, staring at his futile heap;
22 and poor Niobe, statue who bled tears
with seven sons and seven daughters dead;
and Saul, the conquered King of Israel,
25 on Gilboa self-slaughtered by his sword;
and mad Arachne, half a spider now,
still clinging to the woeful web she wove;
28 and Rehoboam, boastful coward king,
fleeing by chariot, though none pursued.
That pavement also showed me how and why
31 Alcmaeon slew his mother, who betrayed
his father for a jewelled ornament;
Assyria’s great king Sennacherib,
34 stabbed in a temple by his ruthless sons,
afloat in a big cup of his own blood;
Cyrus’s head, popped by Queen Tomyris
37 who said, “You liked bloodshed? So drink up this.”
It showed Assyrians in panic flight
when General Holofernes lost his head;
40 and lastly saw the broken walls and ash
of mighty Troy, brought pitifully low.
No human artist could contrive to show
43 these histories in carving or in paint
so wonderfully well. The dead looked dead,
the living seemed to breathe. I came to see
46 the fate of pride spelled on that road for me,
but go your haughty ways, great sons of Eve!
Do not believe what’s written on the ground.
I had not seen how far we and the sun 49
had circled round the hill when Virgil said,
“The time for brooding’s past. Look upward – see,
the hour is noon. An angel’s coming fast 52
who will direct us to the upward way,
so give him all the reverence he’s due.
Today, you know, will never dawn again.” 55
Knowing my master hated waste of time
I followed him in haste. We came to halt
before a lovely creature clad in white 58
whose face gleamed on us like the morning star.
Spreading his arms to us and then his wings,
he, pointing to a deep cleft in the cliff, 61
told us, “Climb here! It is an easy way.
Why do so few arrive to share it now?
Mankind was made to soar. What little flaws 64
detain the multitudes so far below?
But up you go.” His wings then brushed my brow.
The cloven rock contained a noble stair 67
like that arising from the Arno bridge
(built when my city had just government)
rising to where all Florence can be viewed, 70
before the church of Miniato’s door.
Then as we climbed I heard a sweeter voice
than words can tell, sing Blessèd are the meek, 73
unlike the lamentable screams I heard
between one level and the next in Hell.
76 I found that climbing up that holy stair
was easier than walking on flat ground.
“Master,” I asked, “what weight has been removed?”
79 “The weight of that first P and what it means,
rubbed from your brow by the angelic wings,”
said he. “The rest are there more faintly now.
82 All will be cancelled, one by one, until
your body is so lightened by good will,
you’ll not be capable of weariness.”
85 Then I behaved like all those unaware
of how they look before the stares of folk
begin to worry them: they use their hands
88 to feel what they can’t see and don’t yet know.
With five spread fingertips I felt my head
and found six Ps where seven were before.
91 My guide smiled as he saw me doing so.