The Divine Comedy

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The Divine Comedy Page 49

by Alighieri, Dante


  Dante’s riddle-like answer to a simple question, though it appears to be mere ornamentation at first, serves to introduce the whole discussion of the degeneracy of the city-states of the Arno Valley.

  43. its first weak course: In the Upper Casentine the Arno is not yet swollen by any tributaries.

  46-48. a pack of curs: The Aretines. turns aside its snout: The Arno flows from the Upper Casentine straight toward Arezzo but at a point a few miles north of the town it swings east without entering the town proper. Note how Dante’s phrasing gives the river itself bestial characteristics, beast scorning beast.

  53-57. For the sense of this difficult passage one must remember that Guido (not yet identified) is speaking to Rinieri (not yet identified) and not to Dante. Guido is about to reveal a prophecy concerning the evil actions of Rinieri’s grandson, and further concerning Dante’s banishment from Florence. The prophecy will grieve Rinieri, but it will be well for Dante to hear it and ponder it. The sense then: “Though it grieve you to hear me say this, especially in front of others, I still must say it, and it will in fact be well for this man to think about it as he moves on.” Note that Guido obviously knows who Dante is, though Dante has refused to identify himself by name.

  These lines imply strongly, and lines 67 ff. confirm, that Rinieri does not share Guido’s prophetic powers, at least at this point. I know of nothing in Dante that will explain why one soul in a given category should be more prophetic than another, but it can certainly be assumed that the prophetic vision comes in flashes now to one soul, now to another.

  58-66. your grandson: Rinieri’s grandson (Dante calls him nipote, which may mean either “nephew” or “grandson”) was Fulcieri da Calboli (Ful-CHYEH-ree dah KAHL-BOE-LEE), who in 1302 became podestà (chief magistrate) of Florence.

  In Dante’s time many of the city-states of Italy were so torn by internal strife that they could not hope to agree on one of their own citizens as podestà. The practice grew, therefore, of electing a (presumably neutral) outsider to administer impartial justice for a given term. Fulcieri (either bribed by the Black Guelphs, or put into office in the first place as part of their plot) arrested and put to painful death many leaders of the White Guelphs (Dante’s party) as well as some of the few remaining and powerless Ghibellines. The leaders disposed of, he proceeded murderously against the Whites in general. The “wolves” he hunts (line 59) are, of course, the White Florentines; the “sad wood” (line 64) is, of course, Florence. “The old beast” is Fulcieri, who, after selling them alive, piles shame on shame by killing them himself for sport.

  69. no matter from what quarter the hurt pounces: I have no satisfactory explanation of this line. Dante seems to stress the unexpectedness of the news. “Pounces” in the original is l’assanni (i.e., “seizes him by the teeth”). But what the source of the bad news has to do with the man’s reaction to it, in this case at least, remains unexplained, though one may, of course, conjecture at will.

  81. Guido del Duca: Little is known about him. He was a Ghibelline of Brettinoro, a member of the prominent Onesti family of Ravenna. He served in various judicial posts in Romagna from 1195 on, and is known to have been alive in 1229.

  85. This seed: Envy. this sad straw: His present pains. “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” (Galatians, vi, 7).

  87. on what it is forbidden you to share: These words puzzle Dante and remain in his mind. In the next Canto he asks Virgil what they mean. For Virgil’s reply see XV, 46-57, and 64-81. See also note on Dante’s Doctrine of Wealth (p. 417), and Inferno, VII, 68, note on Dame Fortune.

  88. Rinier: Rinieri dei Paolucci da Calboli di Forlì. (Rih-NYEH-ree DAY-ee Pah-oh-LOO-tchee da KAHL-boe-lee dee For-LEE.) A Guelph leader, podestà of Faenza in 1247, and later of other cities. In 1292 he was re-elected podestà of Faenza, but he and his supporters were expelled by the Ghibellines in 1294. In 1296 Rinieri seized Faenza while the Ghibellines were away paying a social war on Bologna. Those courtesies concluded, they returned in force, and Rinieri was killed in the homecoming festivities.

  91-96. To avoid a tangle of scholarly references and disputes I have simplified the text here and taken six lines to render three of Dante’s, into what I hope is a reasonably clear exposition. The war-torn land is Romagna. The Reno is a river that bounds Romagna on the west. The sea on the east is the Adriatic.

  100-102. All the persons mentioned here were leaders of Romagna during the last decades of the twelfth century and into the first three quarters of the thirteenth. All are cited as examples of knightly grace, bravery, largesse, and sound counsel. Romagnoles: People of Romagna (Roe-MAH-nyah). Dante’s phrasing unmistakably suggests here the opening lines of Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso.

  103-105. Dante is carrying out the agricultural metaphor begun in lines 97-99. Fabbro: Fabbro de’ Lambertazzi, leader of all Romagna’s Ghibellines, died in 1259. Fosco: Bernardin di Fosco, son of a small landholder (hence his family tree was “a little plant”), rose to high estate through great merit and served as podestà of Pisa in 1248 and of Siena in 1249. Both men are cited for the same virtues exemplified by Mainardi and the others listed in lines 100-114.

  The first part of Guido’s denunciation of Romagna cites the glories of its past. All those mentioned here by Duca were prominent leaders of Romagna, and all were alive during some part of Guido’s lifetime. He laments their passing as the passing of chivalric virtue.

  110. the house of the Traversari: Guido has cited Pier Traversaro among the best lords of the land. Here he extends his praise to the whole house, along with his lament that it is an expiring line. the Anastagi (Ah-nah-STAH-djee): of Ravenna. Another great house left without heirs.

  115-117. Brettinoro: (Now Bertinoro) A small town between Forlì and Cesena, it was Guido’s birthplace. Some of the details of this passage may be variously interpreted, but the general sense is clear enough: “Since the best of your people have fled you to escape the contagion of your guilt, why don’t you just do away with yourself?” Your lords: Your ruling house. and many more: and many more of your citizens.

  118-120. The towns here mentioned are small fortified towns of Romagna. In Guido’s view, their ruling houses have bred down to degenerate stock. In 1300 the Malvacini di Bagnacavallo (Mahl-vah-TCHEE-nee dee Bah-nya-kah-VAH-loe) had no male heirs and the line was doomed to extinction.

  121-123. The Pagani ruled over various holdings in Romagna, Faenza and Imola among them. The “fiend” of the Pagani was Count Maginardo (see Inferno, XXVII, 47-49, and note). Maginardo died in 1302, and after him his sons ruled well, but never well enough to remove the stain left on the family name by Maginardo’s misrule.

  124. Ugolin de’ Fantolini: Of Faenza. A lord of great good reputation. He died in 1278 leaving two sons and two daughters, but both sons had died without issue by 1286.

  130-132. We knew those dear souls heard us . . . : A good example of Dante’s characteristic sparseness and precision. The souls, well disposed toward the Poets, could hear in which direction they walked away. Had the Poets turned the wrong way (left), the souls would have spoken up. Since nothing was said, the Poets knew they were headed the right way—and each pair knew that the other knew.

  134-141. Dante’s theory of electric storms (see Inferno, XXIV, 145-149, and note at end of that Canto) is likely to confuse modern readers. His basic theory is that fiery vapors (lightning) try to shatter watery vapors (clouds), bringing them down as rain. (So line 138, if the cloud bursts . . .)

  136-144. THE REIN OF ENVY. Like the Whip, the Rein consists of bodiless voices racing through the air.

  The first voice is that of Cain crying to God at his punishment: “Everyone that findeth me shall slay me.” (Genesis, iv, 14.) Thus the first crash resounds with the cry of the first man punished for envy.

  The second voice is of Aglauros, daughter of Cecrops, King of Athens. Her sisters were Herse and Pandrace. Mercury fell in love with the beautiful Herse and bribed Aglauro
s to arrange for him an assignation with her sister. Aglauros took the bribe, but in envy that her sister should lie with a god, she turned Mercury away when he arrived for his appointment. Mercury, enraged, turned her to stone.

  Thus the doom brought on by envy cries in the voice of brother sinning against brother and sister sinning against sister.

  146-150. VIRGIL’S REPLY. As mixed metaphors go, this one ranks high even for Dante. “You [mankind] ought to be bridled [like a horse] but instead you swallow the hook [like a fish] and are not saved by either curb [bridle] or call [the original word is richiamo, signifying the whistle used to call a falcon back from the hunt].”

  Canto XV

  THE SECOND CORNICE

  THE ASCENT

  THE THIRD CORNICE

  The Envious

  The Angel of Caritas

  The Wrathful

  The Whip of Wrath

  It is 3:00 P.M. and the Poets are walking straight into the sun when an even greater radiance blinds Dante and he finds himself in the presence of THE ANGEL OF CARITAS who passes the Poets on to the ledge above. As they ascend, they hear the Angel sing THE FIFTH BEATITUDE.

  As soon as the Poets enter THE THIRD CORNICE, Dante is entranced by THREE VISIONS which constitute THE WHIP OF WRATH, extolling the virtue of MEEKNESS toward kin, toward friends, and toward enemies.

  These events consume three hours. It is, therefore, 6:00 P.M. of THE SECOND DAY IN PURGATORY when the Poets, moving forward, observe an enormous CLOUD OF SMOKE ahead of them.

  Of that bright Sphere that, like a child at play,

  skips endlessly, as much as lies between

  the third hour’s end and the first light of day

  remained yet of the Sun’s course toward the night.

  Thus, it was Vespers there upon the mountain

  and midnight here in Italy, where I write.

  The Sun’s late rays struck us full in the face,

  for in our circling course around the mountain

  we now were heading toward his resting place.

  Suddenly, then, I felt my brow weighed down

  by a much greater splendor than the first.

  I was left dazzled by some cause unknown

  and raised my hands and joined them in the air

  above my brows, making a sunshade of them

  which, so to speak, blunted the piercing glare.

  When a ray strikes glass or water, its reflection

  leaps upward from the surface once again

  at the same angle but opposite direction

  from which it strikes, and in an equal space

  spreads equally from a plumb-line to mid-point,

  as trial and theory show to be the case.

  Just so, it seemed to me, reflected light

  struck me from up ahead, so dazzlingly

  I had to shut my eyes to spare my sight.

  “Dear Father, what is that great blaze ahead

  from which I cannot shade my eyes enough,

  and which is still approaching us?” I said.

  “Do not be astonished,” answered my sweet Friend

  “if those of the Heavenly Family still blind you.

  He has been sent to bid us to ascend.

  Soon now, such sights will not aggrieve your sense

  but fill you with a joy as great as any

  Nature has fitted you to experience.”

  We stand before the Blessed Angel now.

  With joyous voice he cries: “Enter. The stair

  is far less steep than were the two below.”

  We had gone past him and were climbing on

  when Blessed are the merciful hymned out

  behind us, and Rejoice you who have won.

  My Guide and I were going up the stair—

  we two alone—and I, thinking to profit

  from his wise words as we were climbing there,

  questioned him thus: “What deep intent lay hidden

  in what the spirit from Romagna said?

  He spoke of ‘sharing’ and said it was ‘forbidden.’ ”

  And he: “He knows the sad cost of his own

  besetting sin: small wonder he reviles it

  in hope that you may have less to atone.

  It is because you focus on the prize

  of worldly goods, which every sharing lessens

  that Envy pumps the bellows for your sighs.

  But if, in true love for the Highest Sphere,

  your longing were turned upward, then your hearts

  would never be consumed by such a fear;

  for the more there are there who say ‘ours’—not ‘mine’—

  by that much is each richer, and the brighter

  within that cloister burns the Love Divine.”

  “I am left hungrier being thus fed,

  and my mind is more in doubt being thus answered,

  than if I had not asked at all,” I said.

  “How can each one of many who divide

  a single good have more of it, so shared,

  than if a few had kept it?” He replied:

  “Because within the habit of mankind

  you set your whole intent on earthly things,

  the true light falls as darkness on your mind.

  The infinite and inexpressible Grace

  which is in Heaven, gives itself to Love

  as a sunbeam gives itself to a bright surface.

  As much light as it finds there, it bestows;

  thus, as the blaze of Love is spread more widely,

  the greater the Eternal Glory grows.

  As mirror reflects mirror, so, above,

  the more there are who join their souls, the more

  Love learns perfection, and the more they love.

  And if this answer does not yet appease

  your hunger, you will soon see Beatrice,

  and this, and every wish, shall find surcease.

  Only strive hard that soon no trace may show

  of the five scars which true contrition heals—

  as the first two have faded from your brow.”

  I was about to say, “I am satisfied,”

  when suddenly we came to the next Round,

  and my eyes’ avidity left me tongue-tied.

  Here suddenly, in an ecstatic trance,

  I find myself caught up into a vision.

  I see a crowded temple, and in the entrance

  a lady by herself, her eyes aglow

  with the sweet grace of a mother, saying gently:

  “My son, my son, why do you treat us so?

  Your father and I were seeking you in tears.”

  So saying, she falls silent, and as quickly

  as it first came, the vision disappears.

  Another lady now appears, her cheeks

  bathed in those waters that are born of grief

  when grief is born of anger. Now she speaks:

  “O Pisistratus, if you are true Lord

  of the city for whose name the Gods debated,

  and whence all learning shone forth afterward,

  avenge yourself on the presumptuous one

  who dared embrace our daughter.” And her

  master, sweetly forbearing, in a placid tone,

  and smiling gently at her, answers thus:

  “What shall we do to those that wish us harm

  if we take vengeance upon those that love us?”

  Then there appears a wild and murderous spill

  of people hate-incensed, stoning a boy,

  and roaring to each other’s wrath: “Kill! Kill!”

  I see the boy sink to the ground, his death

  already heavy on him, but his eyes,

  like gates of Heaven, open through such wrath;

  and even in his last extremity

  he prays God to forgive his murderers,

  turning to Him the look that unlocks pity.

  When finally my soul could see and feel

  things which wer
e true outside it, I understood

  my not-false errors had been dreams, though real.

  My Guide, who watched me as I moved along

  like one just wakened and still sleep-stunned, said:

  “You barely seem to keep your feet—what’s wrong?

  You’ve stumbled on now for a good half-league

  with eyes half-shut and legs too-wide, like one

  groggy with wine or dropping with fatigue.”

  “O my sweet Father, if you wish to know,

  listen, and I shall tell you what I saw,”

 

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