Seven Deadly Sins---Gluttony

In the same way as below, the steps leading up from the sixth terrace lie to the right of those which lead up to it.

As one goes around the sixth terrace, in the middle of it an apple tree becomes visible. It branches hold ripe, sweet-smelling applies. In shape it brings to mind an inverted fir tree, growing broader the higher one goes, making it impossible to climb. A stream falls from the mountain above onto the tree, drenching all of its leaves.

Approaching the tree, a voice from out of the branches warns one not to eat of the fruit of the tree, as if one does, ones food will lack as if it were no food at all. There is no sign of the source of the voice. The voice will then continue on, giving examples of the virtue of Temperance. "More did it in her thoughts to Mary seem that all the wedding should be fitly set and furnished forth than that rich wines should wet the lips which answer now for you. And they, the Roman matrons of old time, would stay their thirst with water. Daniel counted naught the price of food, if wisdom might be bought with the same coin. The earliest age of men had golden beauty of simplicity: acorns were sweet, and brooks were nectar then. And so John Baptist in the wilderness ate honey and locusts only - wherefore he, the greatness of abstention to express, is glorious in the gospel's imagery."

Those on this terrace are expiating the sin of gluttony. As such, they are starved skeletons, with chalk-white cavernous faces, hollow eyes, skin tight to their bones and all the other signs of prolonged hunger. To those on this terrace, and indeed most likely to anyone who is at all hungry, the scent of the apples and the water falling on the tree is irresistible, and they cannot help but eat and drink of them. Unfortunately, that is part of their punishment, as in doing so they are left hungrier and thirstier than before.

A number of those on this ledge are former highly-placed members of the Church, now paying the price for their indulgences in life. At first reluctant to speak, as soon as one talks to a traveller, many those here will flock around visitors to speak to them, and tell their tale.

Continuing on around the terrace, one comes upon a second apple tree, with broad-spread fruit-laden branches bending low. This tree is concealed by the curve of the mountain so that one is close to it when it is first seen. Its fruit, although appearing to hang low, are in fact held up just too high to reach. There is a crowd of sinners around the tree, raising appealing hands towards its fruit, until they become disillusioned and depart.

A voice from the branches of this tree warns passers-by not to come too close, as the tree is one grown from a seed of the apple tree from which Eve plucked that fateful apple. "Pass warily, nor come too nigh; a tree there is beyond from which Eve plucked the knowledge of sad years, and this one from that fatal seed is bred." Having spoken its warning, the voice from the tree will continue on, speaking of the dangers of gluttony and the punishments awaiting those who succumb to it.

A thousand paces or so beyond this second tree a voice hails travellers. It comes from an angel, glowing with a fierce, bright clear red light. He points out the way up to next terrace.

When Dante passed, a wind smelling of sweet graces and a million flowers brushed his forehead, as the angel's wings, shedding an ambrosial fragrance, erased the penultimate 'P' from his forehead.

The staircase up to the seventh terrace is narrow, so that travellers must go in single file. As Dante ascended he was lectured by Statius on generation, the infusion of the Soul into the body, and the corporeal semblance of Souls after death.

Seven Deadly Sins---Greed

The way up to the fifth terrace brings one out onto a place not unlike the other terraces. This terrace differs from the others in that the ground here is covered with people lying face-down, sobbing tears and lamentations. In between their tears they sigh, and speak words such as 'Adhaesit pavimento' and 'Anima mea.'

Those expiating their sins here are both those who were too avaricious in life, and those who were not avaricious enough. They are those who turned their eyes to Earth and its goods, separating themselves from God by their own will, by either desire for earthly things, or too great a rejection of them. Now where, in life, they did not lift their eyes to Heaven, their avarice holding them from high pursuits, now they must lie with faces and bodies presses to the Earth until their sin is cleansed. Those doing so claim that there is no worse punishment in all of Purgatory.

There are so many people lying on the ground here that one must pick one's way carefully to avoid treading on them; the easiest way is along the very edge of the terrace.

When Dante was here, he felt Mount Purgatory shake as if in a mighty earthquake. When this happened, a cry of 'To God be Glory in Excelsis' rose up from all those in Purgatory. The mountain quakes in this way when someone at last ends the expiation of their sins and is freed to ascend, and all of those in Purgatory hail their release. Dante and Virgil learned this from Statius, the former sinner whose release caused the shaking of the mountain in the first place.

The way up from the fifth terrace lies to the right of the place where one climbs up onto the terrace. Another angel stands watch at the entrance of the way up, and when Dante passed erased another of the 'P's from his forehead. The way up to the sixth terrace is a steep one

Seven Deadly Sins---Sloth

On this terrace, those who were slothful in life, who loved the Good but who did not act to promote it as well as they might have expiate their sins. Their love is strengthened on this terrace - "the loitering oar resumes its regular stroke."

This terrace is of plain undecorated flinty rock. As one goes along it in search of the way up to the fifth terrace, a clamourous outcry arises from in the distance. This comes from a crowd of people running at speed along the terrace, weeping and crying aloud as they go. "Swiftly they came, and voices cried aloud amid their weeping. Two in front proclaimed: 'How quickly Mary to the mountain ran!' and: 'Caesar once, Ilerda to subdue, struck at Marseilles, and ere his foemen knew had entered Spain.' And other of the crowd, jostling behind, cried: 'Hasten! Hasten all! From insufficient love let love's pursuit not slacken, and the power of grace recruit from strain to reach it.' ... In the rear they ran, and shouted: 'Those who saw the seas divide to give them passage, in their sloth they died before the chosen heirs to Canaan came.' And: 'They who would not, with Anchises' son, toil to the end, they bought a life of shame with that reluctance.'"

The members of the crowd are quite spread out, but still move quite fast, as a mass, passing anyone who is merely walking and racing off into the distance. There are many such crowds, each one racing around the terrace. They are not allowed to pause in their running through night and day.

Dante was assailed by a dream of a Siren on this terrace, from which he was only rescued by the intervention of Virgil. "A woman crooked in deformity, squint-eyed, and stammering in her speech, with hands Ill-shaped to make caresses, and her hair it seemed disease had whitened. Such to see was little bliss, but as the light expands with morn, and the chilled limbs their strength renew which night hath stiffened, so my gaze on her had power for her transforming. Straight and tall she rose, and soft swift speech, and eyes of love, she gave, and in her face the warm blood beat, even as desire would have it. I could not stir mine eyes from that regard. Her speech was sweet as song, and song became. 'I am,' she sang, 'I am that siren who the seaman charms in distant ocean. Not to heed would wrong the fountains of delight. To find my arms I turned Ulysses once. Who once belong to what I gave them will but seldom go. Such peace I give.' She had not ceased her song when came another of a different hue, alert to foil her, holy and austere, 'Virgil,' who cried, 'behold, what meet we here?' And he came forward in my dream, as though he saw this last one only, on the first, rude hands who laid, and tore her garments through, Opening her before, and showed her belly bare. Whereat there issued from that womb accursed such stench as waked me."

Progressing further around the terrace, one arrives at the way upwards, at which is stationed an angel, who invites travellers to 'Come hither' with a voice far beyond those of mortals in its sweetness and benignity. He has white, swan-like wings, with which he fans those who ascend the stairway past him. For Dante, he removed one of the 'P's which had been inscribed on his forehead.

Seven Deadly Sins---Wrath

Through the smoke, one begins to hear the 'Agnus Dei', "Oh, lamb of God, who takes all sins away" coming from all sides. These are the voices of the penitent who are being purged of their Wrath on the third terrace and who are hidden in the smoke. They ask travellers to be mentioned in the prayers of those who pass.

The way up out of the third terrace lies opposite that up onto the third terrace.

Going onward through the smoke the sun eventually becomes visible again.

Dante sees visions of examples of anger in the clearing smoke. "Born of Light, by Heavenly Will, Its power descends upon us. She who sings, Impious, in likeness of the bird which most For sorrow in its song finds ecstasy, First my imagination held: so still My mind was mirrored on itself that naught Intruded inward to divert its thought. Next after Philomela came a sight Of one who hung in torment crucified, Yet haughty and dispiteous while he died, While round him grouped Ahasuerus stood, Esther, and Mordicai called the Good, Who was of speech unbending. As will burst A bubble, failing of its watery frame, So passed this vision. In its place there came A maiden, weeping anguished tears, who said: 'O Queen, why hast thou made this choice accurst, Wrath-blinded? Not to lose Lavinia, Thy own life hast thou lost; so losing me. Mine is the grief, the bitter grief for thee. Oh, Mother, for thy ruin must I weep Much more than for another's.'"

Some of the light which seems to come from the sun in fact comes from an angel, who guards the stair upward, and who will point it out to travellers. His glory makes it impossible for mortals to look at him. The angel removed a third 'P' from Dante's forehead, sweeping his wings over Dante's face to do so, saying "Beati Pacifici who from evil wrath are free."

The stair upwards from the third terrace is wide enough for two to walk abreast.

Seven Deadly Sins---Envy

The envious are purged in hell by having their eyes sewn shut...

(Punishment ref. Dante Alighieri Purgatory)



This terrace is very similar to that below, but lacks the carvings, being very bare and empty, with no apparent penitent.

However, as one walks along the second terrace, one begins to hear the wings of invisible entities sweeping past, and among other things they call the traveller to join them "in their courtesy to join the Table of Love" as they fly invisibly past.

On this terrace the sin of Envy is purged. The penitents here sit, dressed in hair-cloth, along the inner edge of the terrace, so still and so coloured that they are, at first, very hard to notice. Their eyelids have been sewn closed with threads of iron, and they resemble blind beggars who constantly sigh and pray to the saints to be prayed for. They can and will talk to passing travellers, and warns of the dangers of Envy, though some do not like to relive the memories this stirs...

At this point, Dante is assailed by thunderous flying voices that are a warning to him to stay on the correct path, in the same way as a bit keeps a horse on the correct path. It seems that Dante is, at this point, paying to little attention to Heaven, which he can see above him, and too much to Hell and the Earth below.

As one carries on around the terrace, one comes to face the Sun, which seems very bright, too bright to be shaded even with ones hands, and which seems to advance on one.

In fact, and angel is standing in the sunlight at the foot of the way up to the third terrace. He tells travellers to enter the less steep steps which lead up to the next terrace. He erases a second 'P' from Dante's forehead.

'Beati Misericordes' accompany one up these stairs.

On the way up, Dante is lectured by Virgil regarding the way in which, the more people who are accepted into Heaven, the more God likes it, as the larger the numbers there, the more they reinforce one another's praise and worship, to the greater glory of God. "The Eternal Good Is both ineffable and infinite. The more there are who in its rays unite, The more its conflagration heats. The more Of folk in Heaven whose souls have understood Each other, in the light of Love Divine, The more of love doth midst and round them shine, As mirrors, each to each, reflected light Cast to their own advantage."

For half a league or so, Dante has ecstatic visions of forebearance on the stair. "Here a temple showed, with moving groups about its doors, and one who with a mother's gesture called: 'My son, why hast thou disregarded? While that we have sought thee grieving?' ... Then a crowd I saw fired with fierce hate, and voices shouted: 'Slay!' And in their midst a youth was bound, and they hurled stones on him from every side, that he sank deathward, but his eyes were gates of prayer raised to an opening heaven, and from his lips, un-stilled by scourging pains or life's eclipse, petitions for their pardon came, that so stirred pity to see it."

These are sent to him to aid him by opening his heart to the peace of God.

Higher up the stair, smoke begins to drift across the sun, darkening it more and more until sight is completely lost and there is no clear air. One stumbles on blindly.

Seven Deadly Sins---Pride

But eventually one emerges on the first terrace of Purgatory proper. This is a flat are about six metres wide, with sheer rock rising before and falling away behind. The bare, flat rock of the first terrace stretches away to left and right.

The rock face ahead has no visible way up to the next terrace, but is of clear white marble, carved with many wonderful life-like sculptures giving examples of humility - angels, the Ark of the Covenant on a car drawn by oxen with seven choirs the carvings of whom seem almost to sing going before it, and many others. Even the speech of the subjects seems to have been sculpted:

"Upon the fronting rock I gazed. It seemed, our further course to block, it rose uncleft by fissure, gate or stair. But its own marvel filled mine eyes. Its white clear marble was with sculptured wealth so well, so richly furnished, Polycletus' art not only, but the actuality of Nature, might accept the inferior's scorn. I saw an angel who, I might have sworn, spoke Hail! to her to whom he came to tell the gracious verdict that reversed our woe, when the long-wept-for peace, by Heaven's decree, to men was granted; held no more apart by God's refusal of our guilt. For she to whom he bent, who turned the holy key of Love's high gates, this speech imprinted showed: Ecce ancilla Dei! Apt as seal on the soft wax. ... Here the marble live seemed motion, as their car the oxen drew, bearing the sacred ark, which taught the bane of those who more than seemly service do. Before them moved seven choirs. My senses warred: 'They sing.' 'They sing not.' With no more accord sight knew the incense real that scent denied. The humble Psalmist, more and less than king, danced on before, with garments girded high; While Michal, from a palace window nigh, looked sombre scorn upon him. I moved to bring before mine eyes the next bright history that gleamed beyond that leaning queen's contempt. Here rode the prince for whom Saint Gregory by prayer won Heaven: the saint's high victory according to the Emperor's worth. Was he, Trajan, outriding seen. Beneath his rein a woman wept. Around him horsemen rode with stir of trampling hooves beneath. Above, the golden eagles that his standards showed swayed in the wind, so live the scene. It seemed, the woman holding to his bridle said: 'Lord, wilt thou venge me for my dearest dead, My son, for whom I mourn uncomforted?' And he to her: 'My soon return await.' And she, as one by urgent grief possessed: 'But, Lord, if thou return not?' 'Then will he True justice deal who takes my vacant state.' 'But will another's deed be praise for thee, Who hast thyself ignored it?' He thereat: 'Take comfort, for thy prayers prevail. The plea of justice rules, and pity's call must be as potent to delay me.' Visible speech so sculptured we beheld, beyond the reach of earthly art: nor can I clearly tell a thing so different."

Around this terrace slowly move those purging their sins here, each weighed down and bent over by a heavy burden, praying as they go, for themselves and those on Earth who are still in danger of Hell.

On the pavement itself, placed where the penitents here cannot help but see them, bent under their loads as they are, are carvings as wondrous as those on the cliff-face, giving examples of the sin of Pride, which is the sin being purged on this terrace.

"There saw I Lucifer as lightning fall, Heaven's noblest cast from Heaven. The further side showed where Briareus, raised by equal pride, smitten by celestial lightning, sprawled supine, by chill death weighted to the earth he spurned. Thymbraeus I saw. Pallas and Mars I saw yet armed around their father, gazing down upon the giant's dismembered limbs. I saw Nimrod beneath his toil bewildered stand, the nations ranged around on either hand who shared his pride in Shinar. Tears were mine thy seven and seven children, Niobe, slain in their youth around thy feet to see. And here was Saul, face-fallen, pierced and dead by his own conquered weapon: rain nor dew Gilboa from that fated moment knew. And foolish here I saw Arachne too, half-spider now, and mournful to survey the tatters of the work her hurt had wrought. And Rehoboam, his high threats forgot, now terrored in his clanging chariot fled the hard pursuit behind him. Forward lay Vision succeeding vision. Alcmaeon within the lucid pavement made appear his mother's bright adorning bought too dear. Further, Sennacherib on the temple stone stretched lifeless, while his murdering sons withdrew. And next Tomyris, who to Cyrus said: 'With blood that was thy thirst I feed thee full.' And all the pitiless ruin she caused was shown. Headless beyond, the bold Assyrian bull. Great Holofernes, sprawled, whom Judith slew, while on its flying rear his army bled. Troy saw I also there, how piteous low! Blackened and hollowed by its eating fire, and all its pride degraded."

Around the curve of the first terrace from when one ascends to it one eventually nears the way up to the second terrace. An angel is stationed there, white-winged and white-robed, with an unthreatening visage, full of light.

For Dante, he beats his wings across Dante's forehead, erasing one of the 'P's the gatekeeper placed there and making the others fainter. Dante quickly discovers that the fewer and fainter the 'P's on his forehead, the easier his ascent.

Upwards, a neatly-cut but steep and narrow stair is carved into the rock, so narrow that ones elbows easily touch both sides at once as one ascends to the second terrace.

Seven Deadly Sins---Lust

The lustful are purged by burning in an immense wall of flames...

(Reference Dante Alighieri's Purgatory)



One emerges onto the seventh terrace to face a field of tall, clear, flames, held back from a narrow path along the edge of the terrace by a strong wind rising from below.

There is a sound of voices from out of the fire, singing hymns, 'Summae' and 'Deus Clementiae', and those expiating their sins here can be seen moving in the fire, burning as they chant. They also cry of the virtues of husbands and wives, the obligations of marriage, and repeat their hymns again. Those on this terrace are expiating the sin of lust, having their excessive passion burned away in fire.

There are, in fact, two groups of sinners in the fire, one stationary, one moving around the terrace. When the two groups meet, their members kiss shortly and move on without pausing, as they turn away crying "Sodom and Gomorrah!" and "Pasiphae in a cow incarnate lay that she might draw the bull her lust to sate!" The moving group are those who committed unnatural acts of lust (those who cry 'Sodom and Gomorrah!') while the stationary are those who sinned no less, but by simply lusting too much, rather than wrongly.

Around the terrace, one comes upon the angel who guards the way up to the Earthly Paradise, as glorious as all the others. He sings "Beati mundi corde" in a voice with such an intensity of life that no human voice can compete with it. The angel tells travellers that they may not ascend unless they submit themselves to the fire - the way up lies on the inner edge of the terrace, through the flames, towards the chanting which comes from the other side. "O ye spirits purified, you may not enter by this stair except the fire hath licked you. Through its flames ascend, heeding the chant beyond." This angel removed the last 'P' from Dante's forehead.

Dante was very dubious about this, but was assured by Virgil that the fire was of a spiritual nature, and would not harm him physically. And indeed, this is the case. The fire does not burn the body, but it is nonetheless very painful. "After them I went, but when I felt that cleansing heat's intensity, I would have flung myself in boiling glass to quench the burning."

A chant is heard from the other side as one makes one's way through the flames. "Venite, benedicti Patris," it says. It from a blinding white glow which is present at the bottom of the steep ascent to the Earthly Paradise, where one emerges from the flames. It encourages those who emerge to carry on upwards while there is light to do so.

The ascent, though steep, runs straight between the rock faces to either side, and lies so that the light of the setting sun illuminates it along its whole length until the sun is entirely set.

Dante, Virgil and Statius slept on the stairs rather than ascend all the way to the Earthly Paradise after emerging from the flames. While he slept, Dante dreamed. "I dreamed a dame I saw youthful and fair. Amid a field of flowers she pluckt, and wandered singing. This she sang: 'Tell him who asks my name that Leah am I. With my fair hands a garland wreath I weave, my mirror and myself to satisfy. But Rachel at her glass from morn to eve sits ever. Fain her own sweet eyes is she to worship: better with my hands to me it seems to twist my crown; for diversely my pleasure is to do, and hers to see.'"

And carrying on up the stairs, one emerges in the Earthly Paradise...