A similar anecdote is told by Michele Savonarola, the grandfather of the famous Florentine preacher and reformer, Girolamo Savonarola: “I will tell you the answer made by Dante to a buffoon at the court of the Lord della Scala of Verona, who, having received from his master a fine coat as a reward for some piece of buffoonery, showed it to Dante, and said: ‘You with all your letters, and sonnets, and books, have never received a present like this’. To which Dante answered: ‘What you say is true; and this has fallen to you and not to me, because you have found your likes, and I have not yet found mine. There, you understand that!’ ” 3
John Gower introduces a story of Dante and a flatterer into the Confessio Amantis (c. 1390):—
“How Dante the poete answerde
To a flatour, the tale I herde.
Upon a strif bitwen hem tuo
He seide him, ‘Ther ben many mo
Of thy servantes than of myne.
For the poete of his covyne
Hath non that wol him clothe and fede,
But a flatour may reule and lede
A king with al his lond aboute’ ”.
(Bk. vii. 11. 2329*-37*.) 4
Another story of Dante and Can Grande turns on his host’s name, Cane (“dog”):—“Once when Dante was at his table Cane della Scala, who was a very gracious lord, wishing to have a joke with the poet and to incite him to some smart saying, ordered his servants to collect all the bones from the repast and to put them privily at Dante’s feet. When the tables were removed, and the company saw the pile of bones at Dante’s feet, they all began to laugh, and asked him if he were a bone-merchant. Whereupon Dante quickly replied: ‘It is no wonder if the dogs have eaten all their bones; but I am not a dog, and so I could not eat mine’. And he said this because his host was called Cane (‘dog’).”5
The author of an old commentary on the Divina Commedia, written probably not many years after Dante’s death, relates Dante’s retort to the musical-instrument maker of Florence, whom the poet has placed among the negligent in his Ante-Purgatory:6 “Belacqua was a citizen of Florence, who made the necks of lutes and guitars, and he was the laziest man that ever was known. It was said that he used to come in the morning to his shop and sit himself down, and never stir again except to go to dinner or to his siesta. Now Dante was a familiar acquaintance of his, and often rebuked him for his laziness; whereupon one day when he was scolding him, Belacqua answered him with the words of Aristotle: ‘By repose and quiet the mind attains to wisdom’. To which Dante retorted: ‘Certainly if repose will make a man wise, you ought to be the wisest man on earth’.”7
Benvenuto da Imola, another commentator on the Commedia, says that besides being a maker of musical instruments, this Belacqua was also something of a musician, and he explains that it was on this account that Dante, who was a lover of music, became intimate with him.
The following two stories of Dante in Florence are told by Franco Sacchetti, the Florentine writer of tales, who was born within twenty years of Dante’s death, and belonged to a family which had a long-standing blood-feud with Dante’s family, Geri del Bello, the first cousin of the poet’s father, having been killed by one of the Sacchetti.8 The first story contains also a characteristic anecdote of Dante’s uncompromising ways, which according to Sacchetti largely contributed to bring about his exile.
“That most excellent poet in the vulgar tongue, whose fame will never die, Dante Alighieri of Florence, lived in Florence not far from the Adimari family, one of whom, a young man, got into trouble through some misdoing or other, and was like to be sentenced to punishment by one of the magistrates. As the magistrate was a friend of Dante’s, the young man begged the latter to intercede in his favour, which Dante readily consented to do. After dinner, Dante went out from his house, and started on his way to fulfil his promise. As he passed by the Porta San Piero, a blacksmith was hammering iron on his anvil, and at the same time bawling out some of Dante’s verses, leaving out lines here and there, and putting in others of his own, which seemed to Dante a most monstrous outrage. Without saying a word he went up to the blacksmith’s forge, where were kept all the tools he used to ply his trade, and seizing the hammer flung it into the street; then he took the tongs and flung them after the hammer, and the scales after the tongs; and he did the same with a number of the other tools. The blacksmith, turning round to him with a coarse gesture, said: ‘What the devil are you doing ? are you mad ?’ Dante replied: ‘What are you doing ?’ ‘I am about my business,’ said the smith, ‘and you are spoiling my tools by throwing them into the street.’ Dante retorted: ‘If you do not want me to spoil your things, do not you spoil mine’. The smith replied: ‘And what of yours am I spoiling ?’ Dante said: ‘You sing out of my book, and do not give the words as I wrote them. That is my business, and you are spoiling it for me.’ The blacksmith, bursting with rage, but not knowing what to answer, picked up his things and went back to his work. And the next time he wanted to sing, he sang of Tristram and Lancelot, and let Dante’s book alone.
“Dante meanwhile pursued his way to the magistrate; and when he was come to his house, and bethought himself that this Adimari was a haughty young man, and behaved with scant courtesy when he went about in the city, especially when he was on horseback (for he used to ride with his legs so wide apart that if the street happened to be narrow he took up the whole of it, forcing every passer-by to brush against the points of his boots—a manner of behaviour which greatly displeased Dante, who was very observant), Dante said to the magistrate: ‘You have before your court such a young man for such an offence; I recommend him to your favour, though his behaviour is such that he deserves to be the more severely punished, for to my mind usurping the property of the commonwealth is a very serious crime’. Dante did not speak to deaf ears. The magistrate asked what property of the commonwealth the young man had usurped. Dante answered: ‘When he rides through the city he sits on his horse with his legs so wide apart that whoever meets him is obliged to turn back, and is prevented from going on his way’. The magistrate said: ‘Do you regard this as a joke ? it is a more serious offence than the other !’ Dante replied: ‘Well, you see, I am his neighbour, and recommend him to you’. And he returned to his house, where the young man asked him how the matter stood. Dante said: ‘He gave me a favourable answer’. A few days afterwards the young man was summoned before the court to answer the charge against him. After the first charge had been read, the judge had the second read also, as to his riding with his legs wide-spread. The young man, perceiving that his penalty would be doubled, said to himself: ‘I have made a fine bargain ! instead of being let off through the intervention of Dante, I shall now be sentenced on two counts’. So returning home he went to Dante and said: ‘Upon my word, you have served me well ! Before you went to the magistrate he had a mind to sentence me on one count; since you went he is like to sentence me on two,’—and in a great fury he turned to Dante and said: ‘If I am sentenced I shall be able to pay, and sooner or later I will pay out the person who got me sentenced’. Dante replied: ‘I did my best for you, and could not have done more if you had been my own son. It is not my fault if the magistrate does not do as you wish.’ The young man, shaking his head, returned home; and a few days afterwards was fined a thousand lire for the first offence, and another thousand for riding with his legs wide-spread—a thing he never ceased to resent, both he and all the rest of the Adimari. And this was the principal reason why not long after Dante was expelled from Florence as a member of the White party, and eventually died in exile at Ravenna, to the lasting shame of his native city.”9
This story, Sacchetti informs his readers, reminded him of another one about Dante, which he thought too good to be omitted from his collection. It runs as follows:—
“On another occasion as Dante was walking through the streets of Florence on no particular errand, and, according to the custom of the day, was wearing a gorget and arm-piece, he met a donkey-driver whose donkeys were loaded with refuse. As
he walked behind the donkeys the driver sang some of Dante’s verses, and after every two or three lines he would beat one of the donkeys, and cry out: Arri!10 Dante going up to him gave him a great thump on the back with his arm-piece, and said: ‘That Arri! was not put in by me’. The driver not knowing who Dante was, nor why he had struck him, only beat his donkeys the more, and again cried out: Arri! But when he had got a little way off, he turned round and put out his tongue at Dante, and made an indecent gesture, saying: ‘Take that !’ Dante, seeing this, said to him: ‘I would not give one word of mine for a hundred of yours’. Oh ! gentle words, worthy of a philosopher ! Most people would have run after the donkey-driver with threats and abuse; or would have thrown stones at him. But the wise poet confounded the donkey-driver, and at the same time won the commendation of every one who had witnessed what took place.” 11
The following story professes to account for the poetical version of the Creed in terza rima, which is often included among Dante’s works, together with a similar version of the seven penitential Psalms.12
“At the time when Dante was writing his book (the Divina Commedia) many people who could not understand it said that it was contrary to the Christian faith. And it came about that Dante was exiled from Florence, and forbidden to come within a certain distance of the city, which prohibition being disregarded, he was proclaimed by the Florentines as a rebel. After wandering about for some time in many countries he at last came to Ravenna, an ancient city of Romagna, and settled down at the court of Guido Novello, who was at that time lord of Ravenna; and here he died, in the year 1321, on the fourteenth day of September, that is on the day of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, and was buried with great honour by the lord of the city. Now at Ravenna there was a learned Franciscan friar, who was an inquisitor. This man, having heard of Dante’s fame, became desirous of making his acquaintance, with the intention of finding out whether he were a heretic or no. And one morning, as Dante was in church, the inquisitor entered, and Dante being pointed out to him, he sent for him. Dante reverentially went to him, and was asked by the inquisitor if he were the Dante who claimed to have visited Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise. Dante replied: ‘I am Dante Alighieri of Florence’. Whereupon the inquisitor angrily said: ‘You go writing canzoni, and sonnets, and idle tales, when you would have done much better to write a learned work, resting on the foundations of the Church of God, instead of giving your time to such like rubbish, which may one of these days serve you out as you deserve’. When Dante wished to reply to the inquisitor, the latter said: ‘This is not the time; but on such a day I will see you again, and I will inquire into this matter’. Dante thereupon answered that he should be well pleased for this to be done; and taking leave of the inquisitor, he went home to his own room, and there and then wrote out the composition known as the ‘Little Creed,’ the which creed is an affirmation of the whole Christian faith. On the appointed day he went in quest of the inquisitor, and, having found him, put into his hands this composition, which the inquisitor read; and having read it he thought it a remarkable work, insomuch that he was at a loss to know what to say to Dante. And while the inquisitor was thus confounded, Dante took his leave, and so came off safe and sound. And from that day forward Dante and the inquisitor became great friends. And that is how it came about that Dante wrote his Creed.” 13
Giovanni Sercambi, the Lucchese novelist, tells several stories of Dante, in one of which he relates how Dante turned the tables on King Robert of Naples, the Guelf champion, who was the bitter opponent of Dante’s ideal Emperor, Henry of Luxemburg.
“In the days when King Robert of Naples was still alive, Dante, the poet of Florence, having been forbidden to live in his native city or anywhere within the States of the Church, took refuge sometimes with the Della Scala family at Verona, and sometimes with the lord of Mantua, but oftenest with the Duke of Lucca, namely, Messer Castruccio Castracani. And inasmuch as the fame of the said Dante’s wisdom had been noised abroad, King Robert was desirous of having him at his court, in order that he might judge of his wisdom and virtue; wherefore he sent letters to the Duke, and likewise to Dante, begging him to consent to come. And Dante having decided to go to King Robert’s court, set out from Lucca and made his way to Naples, where he arrived, dressed, as poets mostly are, in somewhat shabby garments. When his arrival was announced to King Robert, he was sent for to the King; and it was just the hour of dinner as Dante entered the room where the King was. After hands had been washed and places taken at table, the King sitting at his own table, and the barons at theirs, at the last Dante was placed at the lowest seat of all. Dante, being a wise man, saw at once how little sense the King showed. Nevertheless, being hungry, he ate, and after he had eaten, he, without waiting, took his departure, and set out towards Ancona on his way back to Tuscany. When King Robert had dined, and rested somewhat, he inquired what had become of Dante, and was informed that he had left and was on his way towards Ancona. The King, knowing that he had not paid Dante the honour which was his due, supposed that he was indignant on that account, and said to himself: ‘I have done wrong; after sending for him, I ought to have done him honour, and then I should have learned from him what I wanted’. He therefore without delay sent some of his own servants after him, who caught him up before he reached Ancona. Having received the King’s letter Dante turned round and went back to Naples; and dressing himself in a very handsome garment presented himself before King Robert. At dinner the King placed him at the head of the first table, which was alongside of his own; and Dante finding himself at the head of the table, resolved to make the King understand what he had done. Accordingly, when the meat and wine were served, Dante took the meat and smeared it over the breast of his dress, and the wine he smeared over his clothes in like manner. King Robert and the barons who were present, seeing this, said: ‘This man must be a good-for-nothing; what does he mean by smearing the wine and gravy over his clothes ?’ Dante heard how they were abusing him, but held his peace. Then the King, who had observed all that passed, turned to Dante and said: ‘What is this that I have seen you doing? How can you, who are reputed to be so wise, indulge in such nasty habits?’ Dante, who had hoped for some remark of this kind, replied: ‘Your majesty, I know that this great honour which you now show me, is paid not to me but to my clothes; consequently I thought that my clothes ought to partake of the good things you provided. You must see that what I say is the case; for I am just as wise now, I suppose, as when I was set at the bottom of the table, because of my shabby clothes; and now I have come back, neither more nor less wise than before, because I am well dressed, you place me at the head of the table.’ King Robert, recognising that Dante had rebuked him justly, and had spoken the truth, ordered fresh clothes to be brought for him, and Dante after changing his dress ate his dinner, delighted at having made the King see his own folly. When dinner was over, the King took Dante aside, and, making proof of his wisdom, found him to be even wiser than he had been told; wherefore King Robert paid Dante great honour and kept him at his court, in order that he might have further experience of his wisdom and virtue.”
The famous Florentine story-teller, Francesco Poggio Bracciolini, more commonly known as Poggio, besides the two anecdotes of Dante and Can Grande which have already been given, relates the following of how Dante disposed of a bore:—
“At the time when our poet Dante was in exile at Siena, as he was standing one day deep in thought, with his elbow on one of the altars in the Church of the Minor Friars, as though he were revolving in his mind some very abstruse matter, some busybody went up to him, and disturbed him by speaking to him. Dante turned to him and said: ‘What is the biggest beast in the world ?’ ‘The elephant,’ was the reply. Then said Dante: ‘Oh ! elephant, leave me alone in peace, for I am pondering weightier matters than your silly chatter ‘.”14
Another version of this story is included among The Most Elegant and Witty Epigrams (first published in 1615) of Sir John Harington. It is entitled
&nb
sp; A good answere of the Poet Dant to an Atheist.
The pleasant learn’d Italian Poet Dant,
Hearing an Atheist at the Scriptures jest,
Askt him in jest, which was the greatest beast ?
He simply said; he thought an Elephant.
Then Elephant (quoth Dant) it were commodious,
That thou wouldst hold thy peace, or get thee hence,
Breeding our Conscience scandal and offence
With thy prophan’d speech, most vile and odious.
Oh Italy, thou breedst but few such Dants,
I would our England bred no Elephants.15
The following anecdote of Dante and the Doge of Venice belongs to quite the end of Dante’s life, the occasion in question being when he was in Venice on his embassy from Guido da Polenta in the summer of 1321, a few months before his death:—
“Dante of Florence being once on a mission in Venice, was invited to dinner by the Doge on a fast-day. In front of the envoys of the other princes who were of greater account than the Polenta lord of Ravenna, and were served before Dante, were placed the largest fish; while in front of Dante were placed the smallest. This difference of treatment nettled Dante, who took up one of the little fish in his hand, and held it to his ear, as though expecting it to say something. The Doge, observing this, asked him what this strange behaviour meant. To which Dante replied: ‘As I knew that the father of this fish met his death in these waters, I was asking him news of his father’. ‘Well,’ said the Doge, ‘and what did he answer ?’ Dante replied: ‘He told me that he and his companions were too little to remember much about him; but that I might learn what I wanted from the older fish, who would be able to give me the news I asked for’. Thereupon the Doge at once ordered Dante to be served with a fine large fish.”16
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