# Purgatory Canto 31

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

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> 
> Canto XXXI
> 
> Argument
> 
>      Beatrice continues her reprehension of Dante, who confesses his error,
> and falls to the ground; coming to himself again, he is by Matilda drawn
> through the waters of Lethe, and presented first to the four virgins who
> figure the cardinal virtues; these in their turn lead him to the Gryphon, a
> symbol of our Saviour; and the three virgins, representing the evangelical
> virtues, intercede for him with Beatrice, that she would display to him her
> second beauty.
> 
> "O Thou!" her words she thus without delay
> Resuming, turn'd their point on me, to whom
> They, with but lateral edge,[1] seem'd harsh before:
> "Say thou, who stand'st beyond the holy stream,
> If this be true. A charge, so grievous, needs
> Thine own avowal." On my faculty
> Such strange amazement hung, the voice expired
> Imperfect, ere its organs gave it birth.
> 
> [1: "With but lateral edge." The words of Beatrice, when not
> addressed directly to himself, but spoken of him to the Angel, Dante had
> thought sufficiently harsh.]
> 
> A little space refraining, then she spake:
> "What dost thou muse on? Answer me. The wave
> On thy remembrances of evil yet
> Hath done no injury." A mingled sense
> Of fear and of confusion, from my lips
> Did such a "Yea" produce, as needed help
> Of vision to interpret. As when breaks,
> In act to be discharged, a cross - bow bent
> Beyond its pitch, both nerve and bow o'erstretch'd;
> The flagging weapon feebly hits the mark:
> Thus, tears and sighs forth gushing, did I burst,
> Beneath the heavy load: and thus my voice
> Was slacken'd on its way. She straight began:
> "When my desire invited thee to love
> The good, which sets a bound to our aspirings;
> What bar of thwarting foss or linked chain
> Did meet thee, that thou so shouldst quit the hope
> Of further progress? or what bait of ease,
> Or promise of allurement, led thee on
> Elsewhere, that thou elsewhere shouldst rather wait?"
> 
> A bitter sigh I drew, then scarce found voice
> To answer; hardly to these sounds my lips
> 
> Gave utterance, wailing: "Thy fair looks withdrawn,
> Things present, with deceitful pleasures, turn'd
> My steps aside." She answering spake: "Hadst thou
> Been silent, or denied what thou avow'st,
> Thou hadst not hid thy sin the more; such eye
> Observes it. But whene'er the sinner's cheek
> Breaks forth into the precious - streaming tears
> Of self - accusing, in our court the wheel
> Of justice doth run counter to the edge.[2]
> Howe'er, that thou mayst profit by thy shame
> For errors past, and that henceforth more strength
> May arm thee, when thou hear'st the Syren - voice;
> Lay thou aside the motive to this grief,
> And lend attentive ear, while I unfold
> How opposite a way my buried flesh
> Should have impell'd thee. Never didst thou spy,
> In art or nature, aught so passing sweet,
> As were the limbs that in their beauteous frame
> Enclosed me, and are scatter'd now in dust.
> If sweetest thing thus fail'd thee with my death,
> What, afterward, of moral, should thy wish
> Have tempted? When thou first hadst felt the dart
> Of perishable things, in my departing
> For better realms, thy wing thou shouldst have pruned
> To follow me; and never stoop'd again,
> To 'bide a second blow, for a slight girl,[3]
> Or other gaud as transient and as vain.
> The new and inexperienced bird[4] awaits,
> Twice it may be, or thrice, the fowler's aim;
> But in the sight of one whose plumes are full,
> In vain the net is spread, the arrow wing'd."
> 
> [2: "The weapons of divine justice are blunted by the confession and
> sorrow of the offender."]
> 
> [3: "For a slight girl." Daniello and Venturi say that this alludes
> to Gentucca of Lucca, mentioned in the twenty - fourth Canto.]
> 
> [4: "Bird." "Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of any
> bird." - Prov. i. 17.]
> 
> I stood, as children silent and ashamed
> Stand, listening, with their eyes upon the earth,
> Acknowledging their fault, and self - condemn'd.
> And she resumed: "If, but to hear, thus pains thee,
> Raise thou thy beard, and lo! what sight shall do."
> 
> With less reluctance yields a sturdy holm,
> Rent from its fibres by a blast, that blows
> From off the pole, or from Iarbas' land,[5]
> Than I at her behest my visage raised:
> And thus the face denoting by the beard,
> I mark'd the secret sting her words convey'd.
> 
> [5: "From Iarbas' land." The south.]
> 
> No sooner lifted I mine aspect up,
> Than I perceived those primal creatures cease
> Their flowery sprinkling; and mine eyes beheld
> (Yet unassured and wavering in their view)
> Beatrice; she, who toward the mystic shape,
> That joins two natures in one form, had turn'd:
> And, even under shadow of her veil,
> And parted by the verdant rill that flow'd
> Between, in loveliness she seem'd as much
> Her former self surpassing, as on earth
> All others she surpass'd. Remorseful goads
> Shot sudden through me. Each thing else, the more
> Its love had late beguiled me, now the more
> Was loathsome. On my heart so keenly smote
> The bitter consciousness, that on the ground
> O'erpower'd I fell: and what my state was then,
> She knows, who was the cause. When now my strength
> Flow'd back, returning outward from the heart,
> The lady,[6] whom alone I first had seen,
> I found above me. "Loose me not," she cried:
> "Loose not thy hold:" and lo! had dragg'd me high
> As to my neck into the stream; while she,
> Still as she drew me after, swept along,
> Swift as a shuttle, bounding o'er the wave.
> 
> [6: "The lady." Matilda.]
> 
> The blessed shore approaching, then was heard
> So sweetly, "Tu asperges me," that I
> May not remember, much less tell the sound.
> 
> The beauteous dame, her arms expanding, clasp'd
> My temples, and immerged me where 'twas fit
> The wave should drench me: and, thence raising up,
> Within the fourfold dance of lovely nymphs
> Presented me so laved; and with their arm
> They each did cover me. "Here are we nymphs,
> 
> And in the heaven are stars. Or ever earth
> Was visited of Beatrice, we,
> Appointed for her handmaids, tended on her.
> We to her eyes will lead thee: but the light
> Of gladness, that is in them, well to scan,
> Those yonder three, of deeper ken than ours,
> Thy sight shall quicken." Thus began their song:
> And then they led me to the Gryphon's breast,
> Where, turn'd toward us, Beatrice stood.
> "Spare not thy vision. We have station'd thee
> Before the emeralds, whence love, erewhile,
> Hath drawn his weapons on thee." As they spake,
> A thousand fervent wishes riveted
> Mine eyes upon her beaming eyes, that stood,
> Still fix'd toward the Gryphon, motionless.
> As the sun strikes a mirror, even thus
> Within those orbs the twofold being shone;
> Forever varying, in one figure now
> Reflected, now in other. Reader! muse
> How wondrous in my sight it seem'd, to mark
> A thing, albeit steadfast in itself,
> Yet in its imaged semblance mutable.
> 
> Full of amaze, and joyous, while my soul
> Fed on the viand, whereof still desire
> Grows with satiety; the other three,
> With gesture that declared a loftier line,
> Advanced: to their own carol, on they came
> Dancing, in festive ring angelical.
> 
> "Turn, Beatrice!" was their song: "Oh! turn
> Thy saintly sight on this thy faithful one,
> Who, to behold thee, many a wearisome pace
> Hath measured. Gracious at our prayer, vouchsafe
> Unveiled to him thy cheeks; that he may mark
> Thy second beauty, now conceal'd." O splendour!
> O sacred light eternal! who is he,
> So pale with musing in Pierian shades,
> Or with that fount so lavishly imbued,
> Whose spirit should not fail him in the essay
> To represent thee such as thou didst seem,
> When under cope of the still - chiming Heaven
> Thou gavest to open air thy charms reveal'd?
>
> — *Purgatory Canto 31*