# Purgatory Canto 23

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-20 — 1 clipping.*

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> 
> Canto XXIII
> 
> Argument
> 
>      They are overtaken by the spirit of Forese, who had been a friend of our
> Poet's on earth, and who now inveighs bitterly against the immodest dress of
> their countrywomen at Florence.
> 
> On the green leaf mine eyes were fix'd, like his
> Who throws away his days in idle chase
> Of the diminutive birds, when thus I heard
> The more than father warn me: "Son! our time
> Asks thriftier using. Linger not: away!"
> Thereat my face and steps at once I turn'd
> Toward the sages, by whose converse cheer'd
> I journey'd on, and felt no toil: and lo!
> A sound of weeping, and a song: "My lips,[1]
> O Lord!" and these so mingled, it gave birth
> To pleasure and to pain. "O Sire beloved!
> Say what is this I hear." Thus I inquired.
> 
> [1: "O Lord, open thou my lips; and my mouth shall show forth thy
> praise." - Psalm li. 15.]
> 
> "Spirits," said he, "who, as they go, perchance,
> Their debt of duty pay." As on their road
> The thoughtful pilgrims, overtaking some
> Not known unto them, turn to them, and look,
> But stay not; thus, approaching from behind
> With speedier motion, eyed us, as they pass'd,
> A crowd of spirits, silent and devout.
> 
> The eyes of each were dark and hollow; pale
> Their visage, and so lean withal, the bones
> Stood staring through the skin. I do not think
> Thus dry and meagre Erisichthon show'd,
> When pinch'd by sharp - set famine to the quick.
> 
> "Lo!" to myself I mused, "the race, who lost
> Jerusalem, when Mary with dire beak
> Prey'd on her child." The sockets seem'd as rings,
> From which the gems were dropt. Who reads the name[2]
> Of man upon his forehead, there the M
> Had traced most plainly. Who would deem, that scent
> Of water and an apple could have proved
> Powerful to generate such pining want,
> Not knowing how it wrought? While now I stood,
> Wondering what thus could waste them, (for the cause
> Of their gaunt hollowness and scaly rind
> Appear'd not,) lo! a spirit turn'd his eyes
> In their deep - sunken cells, and fasten'd them
> On me, then cried with vehemence aloud:
> "What grace is this vouchsafed me?" By his looks
> I ne'er had recognized him: but the voice
> Brought to my knowledge what his cheer conceal'd.
> Remembrance of his alter'd lineaments
> Was kindled from that spark; and I agnized
> The visage of Forese.[3]. "Ah! respect
> This wan and leprous - wither'd skin," thus he
> Suppliant implored, "this macerated flesh.
> Speak to me truly of thyself. And who
> Are those twain spirits, that escort thee there?
> Be it not said thou scorn'st to talk with me."
> 
> [2: The temples, nose, and forehead are supposed to represent this
> letter [of the Latin word (H)OMO - man], and the eyes the two O's.]
> 
> [3: A brother of Piccarda. See also Canto xxiv. and Paradise, Canto
> iii. Cionacci is referred to by Lombardi, in order to show that Forese was
> also the brother of Corso Donati, our author's political enemy.]
> 
> "That face of thine," I answer'd him, "which dead
> I once bewail'd, disposes me not less
> For weeping, when I see it thus transform'd.
> Say then, by Heaven, what blasts ye thus? The whilst
> I wonder, ask not speech from me: unapt
> Is he to speak, whom other will employs."
> 
> He thus: "The water and the plant, we pass'd
> With power are gifted, by the eternal will
> Infused; the which so pines me. Every spirit,
> Whose song bewails his gluttony indulged
> Too grossly, here in hunger and in thirst
> Is purified. The odour, which the fruit,
> And spray that showers upon the verdure, breathe,
> Inflames us with desire to feed and drink.
> Nor once alone, encompassing our route,
> We come to add fresh fuel to the pain:
> Pain, said I? solace rather: for that will,
> To the tree, leads us, by which Christ was led
> To call on Eli, joyful, when he paid
> Our ransom from his vein." I answering thus:
> "Forese! from that day, in which the world
> For better life thou changedst, not five years
> Have circled. If the power of sinning more
> Were first concluded in thee, ere thou knew'st
> That kindly grief which re - espouses us
> To God, how hither art thou, come so soon?
> I thought to find thee lower,[4] there, where time
> Is recompense for time." He straight replied:
> "To drink up the sweet wormwood of affliction
> I have been brought thus early, by the tears
> Stream'd down my Nella's cheeks. Her prayers devout,
> Her sighs have drawn me from the coast,[5] where oft
> Expectance lingers; and have set me free
> From the other circles. In the sight of God
> So much the dearer is my widow prized,
> She whom I loved so fondly, as she ranks
> More singly eminent for virtuous deeds.
> The tract, most barbarous of Sardinia's isle,[6]
> Hath dames more chaste, and modester by far,
> Than that wherein I left her. O sweet brother!
> What wouldst thou have me say? A time to come
> Stands full within my view, to which this hour
> Shall not be counted of an ancient date,
> 
> [4: In the Ante - Purgatory. See Canto ii.]
> 
> [5: The wife of Forese.]
> 
> [6: The Barbagia is a part of Sardinia, to which that name was given,
> on account of the uncivilized state of its inhabitants, who are said to have
> gone nearly naked.]
> 
> When from the pulpit shall be loudly warn'd
> The unblushing dames of Florence, lest they bare
> Unkerchief'd bosoms to the common gaze.
> What savage women hath the world e'er seen,
> What Saracens,[7] for whom there needed scourge
> Of spiritual or other discipline,
> To force them walk with covering on their limbs?
> But did they see, the shameless ones, what Heaven
> Wafts on swift wing toward them while I speak,
> Their mouths were oped for howling: they shall taste
> Of sorrow (unless foresight cheat me here),
> Or e'er the cheek of him be clothed with down,
> Who is now rock'd with lullaby asleep.
> Ah! now, my brother, hide thyself no more:
> Thou seest how not I alone, but all,
> Gaze, where thou veil'st the intercepted sun."
> Whence I replied: "If thou recall to mind
> What we were once together, even yet
> Remembrance of those days may grieve thee sore.
> That I forsook that life, was due to him
> Who there precedes me, some few evenings past,
> When she was round, who shines with sister lamp
> To his that glisters yonder," and I show'd
> The sun. "'Tis. he, who through profoundest night
> Of the true dead has brought me, with this flesh
> As true, that follows. From that gloom the aid
> Of his sure comfort drew me on to climb,
> And, climbing, wind along this mountain - steep,
> Which rectifies in you whate'er the world
> Made crooked and depraved. I have his word,
> That he will bear me company as far
> As till I come where Beatrice dwells:
> But there must leave me. Virgil is that spirit,
> Who thus hath promised," and I pointed to him;
> "The other is that shade, for whom so late
> Your realm, as he arose, exulting, shook
> Through every pendent cliff and rocky bound."
> 
> [7: "Saracens." This word, during the Middle Ages, was applied to all
> nations (except the Jews) who did not profess Christianity.]
>
> — *Purgatory Canto 23*