Canto XXI
CANTO XXI
As Dante trudges after his Leader among the prostrate souls, a shade comes up behind them, like the risen Christ appearing to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, and bids them peace. Virgil explains to him that since the Pilgrim is still alive, he has need of a guide, for which reason he himself has been drawn forth from the jaws of Hell. Then he asks why the mountain has just trembled and all have cried out with one voice (1–39). The spirit answers that the mountain does not suffer alteration by the moist vapors that produce rain, hail, snow, dew, and frost, or by the dry vapors that cause lightnings and earthquakes. Rather, whenever one’s will feels cleansed to rise to Heaven, the mountain mysteriously quakes of itself, and all the souls rejoice aloud. Although it may have willed to ascend before, Divine Justice binds desire to the completion of its penance as once it was set towards sin. Just now the spirit speaking has finished his purgation after more than five hundred years on this terrace; hence, the mountain shook, and the shades cried out at his release (40–75). He discloses himself as Statius, one honored by the name of poet, whose epics, the Thebaid and the unfinished Achilleid, drew inspiration from Virgil’s Aeneid. Boldly, he claims that he would willingly spend yet another year in Purgatory in exchange for having lived in the days of his great poetic forebear (76–102). Virgil gives Dante a look to keep quiet, but his charge proves unable to suppress a smile, and Statius wonders about the meaning of these facial expressions. With his Master’s permission, the Poet then reveals to Statius that the very Virgil who once stirred him to sing of gods and men now stands before him. Statius, overwhelmed by this revelation, sinks to embrace the Mantuan’s feet, but the ancient Bard lifts him up with the reminder that they are both empty shades (103–136).
1 Our nature’s thirst (which one can never quench
Save by that water’s grace which had been sought
Already by Samaria’s poor wench)[339]
4 Tormented me; and, urged by haste, I fought
On cluttered ways behind my Leader’s plod
And felt such grief at vengeance justly wrought.
7 And here, as Luke once wrote that Christ, our God,
On rising up from his sepulchral pit,
Appeared to two upon the road they trod,[340]
10 A shade appeared, who came behind a bit,
While at our feet we watched the crowds recline
Though, till he spoke, we gave no heed to it.
13 He said: “God give you, brothers, peace divine.”
We quickly turned, and Virgil made retort
By rendering to him a fitting sign.
16 He then began to say: “May God’s true court,
Which traps me in eternal exile’s snare,
Bring you in peace to that blest council’s port.”
19 “What’s that?” he said as we forged on from there,
“You’re shades whom God won’t let in His domain? [341]
Who’s guided you so far along this stair?”
22 My Teacher: “Eye the markings written plain
Upon him by an angel, and see one
Of those who with the righteous is to reign.
25 But since the one who spins by moon and sun
Has from her distaff not yet drawn the twine
That Clotho loads and packs for everyone,[342]
28 His soul, a sister both to yours and mine,
Could not, on coming up, ascend alone
Because his eyes don’t see as ours divine.
31 So I, drawn forth from Hell’s wide jaws, have shown
To him the way, which I shall further show,
To where my school can lead him on its own.[343]
34 But, if you know, tell why a while ago
The mountain shook and why all seemed to cry
As one down to its watered base below.”
37 His question threaded thus the needle’s eye
Of my desire and merely with the hope
Of knowing made the thirst I felt less dry.
40 He said: “The holy rule upon this slope
Does not within its order suffer flaws
Or anything outside its custom’s scope.
43 Here free from every change, what Heaven draws
Out of itself, then takes up in its store,
Just that, and nothing else, can be a cause.[344]
46 And therefore hail and snow, a shower’s pour,
Or dew and frost may fall on any tier
Up to the three-stepped stairway, but no more.
49 Here, thick or thin, the clouds do not appear,
Nor lightning-flash, nor Thaumas’ daughter bright,[345]
Who yonder often seems to change her sphere.
52 And no dry vapors rise beyond the height[346]
Of those three steps of which I spoke just now,
On which the feet of Peter’s vicar light.
55 Quakes great or small may shake a lower brow,
But from the hidden winds the earth may shroud
It’s never trembled here, I don’t know how.
58 It shakes here when some spirit of our crowd
Feels cleansed to rise or stirs to climb, now free,
At which the shouts that follow are so loud.
61 The will alone gives proof of purity,
Which shall, once fully free to change its inn,[347]
Surprise the soul and help it will,” said he.
64 “Though it had willed, desire won’t let it win;
God’s justice sets desire—against one’s will—
Towards penance as it had been set towards sin.
67 And I have lain within this pain until[348]
Just now, five hundred years or more, when I
First sensed free will to find a better sill.[349]
70 You therefore felt the quake and heard nearby
The pious souls sing praises to the Lord
Throughout the mount—may He soon raise them high!”
73 Such words he spoke. And since our drinks afford
More pleasure insofar as thirst is great,
I cannot say what profit there was stored.
76 “What net ensnares you here I now see straight
And how it’s torn,” that wise one answered so,
“Both why it quakes and why your joyful state.
79 Now, should it please you, I would like to know
Who you once were and in your words behold
Why here you’ve lain as ages come and go.”
82 “When help from Heaven’s King made Titus bold[350]
So that good man avenged the wounded frame
Which spurted forth the blood that Judas sold,[351]
85 With that most lasting and most honored name[352]
I dwelt beyond,” replied that spirit now,
“Not yet with faith but with sufficient fame.
88 The spirit of my song was sweet—that’s how
Rome drew me forth from my Toulouse to stay[353]
Where I deserved the myrtle round my brow.
91 And men still call me ‘Statius’ today;[354]
I sang of Thebes, of great Achilles too,[355]
But with the second load fell on the way.
94 The sparks that kindled all my ardor flew
From godlike flames, and they by now have lit
More than a thousand poets’ fires anew.
97 I speak of the Aeneid; dam was it
And nurse to me from when my verse began;
Without it, mine would not be worth a whit.
100 And to have lived when Virgil was a man,
I’d yield to one more sun than is the fee
I owe before I issue from this ban.”
103 These words turned Virgil with a look to me
That said, albeit silently: “Keep still”;
But strength of will can not do all, you see,
106 For tears and laughter follow so the rill
Of feeling that they spring up towards the brink:
In those most frank they follow least the will.
109 When I but smiled like one who gives a wink,
That shade fell still and watched my eyes awhile,
Where the expression is most fixed, I think.
112 “So may your work end well upon this isle,
Please tell me why your face,” so he replied,
“Showed me just now the flashing of a smile.”
115 And caught between the one and other side
(The one had silenced me, the other bade
That I should answer him), I therefore sighed.
118 My Master understood; “Don’t be afraid
To talk,” he said, “but speak and answer to
The things that he so earnestly has prayed.”
121 “It may be that you marvel at my clue
—The smile I gave—O ancient soul,” said I,
“But I’d have yet more wonder seize on you.
124 This spirit who directs my eyes on high
Is Virgil, he from whom your strength was bred
To sing of gods and men in days gone by.
127 If you believe some other cause instead
Lay in my smile, dismiss it as untrue;
Believe it was the words that you had said.”
130 He stooped to clasp my Teacher’s feet but drew
A quick response: “O brother, do forbear,
For you’re a shade, and see a shade here too.”
133 He rose and said: “Now may you be aware
Of what a measure of warm love I bring
When I forget that we are empty air
136 And treat a shadow like a solid thing.”