# Purgatory Canto  3

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-18 — 1 clipping.*

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> 
> Canto III
> 
> Argument
> 
>      Our Poet, perceiving no shadow except that cast by his own body, is
> fearful that Virgil has deserted him; but he is freed from that error, and
> both arrive together at the foot of the mountain; on finding it too steep to
> climb, they inquire the way from a troop of spirits that are coming toward
> them, and are by them shown which is the easiest ascent. Manfredi, King of
> Naples, who is one of these spirits, bids Dante inform his daughter Costanza,
> Queen of Arragon, of the manner in which he had died.
> 
> Them sudden flight had scatter'd o'er the plain,
> Turn'd toward the mountain, whither reason's voice
> Drives us: I, to my faithful company
> Adhering, left it not. For how, of him
> Deprived, might I have sped? or who, beside,
> Would o'er the mountainous tract have led my steps?
> He, with the bitter pang of self - remorse,
> Seem'd smitten. O clear conscience, and upright!
> How doth a little failing wound thee sore.
> 
> Soon as his feet desisted (slackening pace)
> From haste, that mars all decency of act,
> My mind, that in itself before was wrapt,
> Its thought expanded, as with joy restored;
> And full against the steep ascent I set
> My face, where highest to Heaven its top o'erflows.
> 
> The sun, that flared behind, with ruddy beam
> Before my form was broken; for in me
> His rays resistance met. I turn'd aside
> With fear of being left, when I beheld
> Only before myself the ground obscured.
> When thus my solace, turning him around,
> Bespake me kindly: "Why distrustest thou?
> Believest not I am with thee, thy sure guide?
> It now is evening there, where buried lies
> The body in which I cast a shade, removed
> To Naples[1] from Brundusium's wall. Nor thou
> Marvel, if before me no shadow fall,
> More than that in the skyey element
> One ray obstructs not other. To endure
> Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames
> 
> [1: "To Naples." Virgil died at Brundusium, from whence his body is
> said to have been removed to Naples.]
> 
> That virtue hath disposed, which, how it works,
> Wills not to us should be reveal'd. Insane,
> Who hopes our reason may that space explore,
> Which holds three persons in one substance knit.
> Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;
> 
> Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been
> For Mary to bring forth. Moreover, ye
> Have seen such men desiring fruitlessly;
> To whose desires, repose would have been given,
> That now but serve them for eternal grief.
> I speak of Plato, and the Stagirite,
> And others many more." And then he bent
> Downward his forehead, and in troubled mood
> Broke off his speech. Meanwhile we had arrived
> Far as the mountain's foot, and there the rock
> Found of so steep ascent, that nimblest steps
> To climb it had been vain. The most remote,
> Most wild, untrodden path, in all the tract
> 'Twixt Lerice and Turbia,[2] were to this
> A ladder easy and open of access.
> 
> [2: "Twixt Lerice and Turbia." At that time the two extremities of
> the Genoese republic; the former on the east, the latter on the west.]
> 
> "Who knows on which hand now the steep declines?"
> My master said, and paused; "so that he may
> Ascend, who journeys without aid of wing?"
> And while, with looks directed to the ground,
> The meaning of the pathway he explored,
> And I gazed upward round the stony height;
> On the left hand appear'd to us a troop
> Of spirits, that toward us moved their steps;
> Yet moving seem'd not, they so slow approach'd.
> 
> I thus my guide address'd: "Upraise thine eyes:
> Lo! that way some, of whom thou mayst obtain
> Counsel, if of thyself thou find'st it not."
> 
> Straightway he look'd, and with free speech replied:
> "Let us tend thither: they but softly come.
> And thou be firm in hope, my son beloved."
> 
> Now was that crowd from us distant as far,
> (When we some thousand steps, I say, had past,)
> As at a throw the nervous arm could fling;
> 
> When all drew backward on the massy crags
> Of the steep bank, and firmly stood unmoved,
> As one, who walks in doubt, might stand to look.
> 
> "O spirits perfect! O already chosen!"
> Virgil to them began: "by that blest peace,
> Which, as I deem, is for you all prepared,
> Instruct us where the mountain low declines,
> So that attempt to mount it be not vain.
> For who knows most, him loss of time most grieves."
> 
> As sheep, that step from forth their fold, by one,
> Or pairs, or three at once; meanwhile the rest
> Stand fearfully, bending the eye and nose
> To ground, and what the foremost does, that do
> The others, gathering round her if she stops,
> Simple and quiet, nor the cause discern;
> So saw I moving to advance the first,
> Who of that fortunate crew were at the head,
> Of modest mien, and graceful in their gait.
> When they before me had beheld the light
> From my right side fall broken on the ground,
> So that the shadow reach'd the cave; they stopp'd,
> And somewhat back retired: the same did all
> Who follow'd though unweeting of the cause.
> 
> "Unask'd of you, yet freely I confess,
> This is a human body which ye see.
> That the sun's light is broken on the ground,
> Marvel not; but believe, that not without
> Virtue derived from Heaven, we to climb
> Over this wall aspire." So them bespake
> My master; and that virtuous tribe rejoin'd:
> "Turn, and before you there the entrance lies;"
> Making a signal to us with bent hands.
> 
> Then of them one began. "Whoe'er thou art,
> Who journey'st thus this way, thy visage turn;
> Think if me elsewhere thou hast ever seen."
> 
> I toward him turn'd, and with fix'd eye beheld.
> Comely and fair, and gentle of aspect
> He seem'd, but on one brow a gash was mark'd.
> 
> When humbly I disclaim'd to have beheld
> Him ever: "Now behold!" he said, and show'd
> High on his breast a wound: then smiling spake.
> 
> "I am Manfredi,[3] grandson to the Queen
> Costanza:[4] whence I pray thee, when return'd,
> To my fair daughter[5] go, the parent glad
> Of Aragonia and Sicilia's pride;
> And of the truth inform her, if of me
> Aught else be told. When by two mortal blows
> My frame was shatter'd, I betook myself
> Weeping to Him, who of free will forgives.
> My sins were horrible: but so wide arms
> Hath goodness infinite, that it receives
> All who turn to it. Had this text divine
> Been of Cosenza's shepherd better scann'd,
> Who then by Clement[6] on my hunt was set,
> Yet at the bridge's head my bones had lain,
> Near Benevento, by the heavy mole
> Protected; but the rain now drenches them,
> And the wind drives, out of the kingdom's bounds,
> Far as the stream of Verde,[7] where, with lights
> Extinguish'd, he removed them from their bed.
> Yet by their curse we are not so destroy'd,
> But that the eternal love may turn, while hope
> Retains her verdant blossom. True it is,
> That such one as in contumacy dies
> 
> [3: "Manfredi." King of Naples and Sicily, and the natural son of
> Frederick II. He was lively and agreeable in his manners, delighted in poetry,
> music, and dancing. But he was luxurious and ambitious, void of religion, and
> in his philosophy an Epicurean. He fell in the battle with Charles of Anjou in
> 1265, alluded to in Canto xxviii of Hell, ver. 13, or rather in that of
> Benevento. The successes of Charles were so rapidly followed up, that our
> author, exact as he generally is, might not have thought it necessary to
> distinguish them in point of time. "Dying excommunicated, King Charles did not
> allow of his being buried in sacred ground, but he was interred near the
> bridge of Benevento; and on his grave there was cast a stone by every one of
> the army, whence there was formed a great mound of stones. But some have said,
> that afterward, by command of the Pope, the Bishop of Cosenza took up his body
> and sent it out of the kingdom, because it was the land of the Church; and
> that it was buried by the river Verde, on the borders of the kingdom and of
> Campagna."]
> 
> [4: See Paradise, Canto iii. 121.]
> 
> [5: Costanza, the daughter of Manfredi, and wife of Peter III, King
> of Arragon, by whom she was mother to Frederick, King of Sicily, and James,
> King of Arragon. With the latter of these she was at Rome, 1296.]
> 
> [6: "Clement." Pope Clement IV.]
> 
> [7: "The stream of Verde." A river near Ascoli, that falls into the
> Tronto. The "extinguished lights" formed part of the ceremony at the interment
> of one excommunicated.]
> 
> Against the holy Church, though he repent,
> Must wander thirty - fold for all the time
> In his presumption past: if such decree
> Be not by prayers of good men shorter made.
> Look therefore if thou canst advance my bliss;
> Revealing to my good Costanza, how
> Thou hast beheld me, and beside, the terms
> Laid on me of that interdict; for here
> By means of those below much profit comes."
>
> — *Purgatory Canto  3*