Paradiso
Page 81
103–105. The Eagle’s words are pellucidly clear; nevertheless, some readers contrive not to understand them. Salvation without belief in Christ is simply not possible. We should tuck this notice away in order to reexamine it in the light of the salvation of both Trajan and Ripheus in the next canto; in the light of this absolute qualification, their salvations seem dubious, at the very least.
For an excursus (in English) on the concept of implicit faith, which alone can make a bit more understandable Dante’s unshakable embrace of the Church’s firm ruling in this matter, see Carroll (comm. to vv. 79–84). [return to English / Italian]
104–108. This is the third set (there will eventually be four [see Par. XXXII.83–87] of identical rhymes on the word Cristo. See the notes to Paradiso XII.71–75 and XIV.103–108. [return to English / Italian]
106–108. Mowbray Allan (Alla.1993.1) restates and widens some of his earlier conclusions about the poem’s openness to the possibility of Virgil’s salvation. He reads this tercet as promising more than Dante probably intends. The text states only that, after the Judgment, some of these failed Christians will be still farther from God than certain pagans. That statement probably should not be interpreted as arguing for the possible eventual salvation of Virgil (or other pagans). They are already nearer God, in the Limbus (see Baranski [Bara.1995.4], p. 292, making this point), than most of the damned, who are predominantly (at least nominally) Christians. There is nothing here that requires us to think that Dante thinks that God will change his mind about Virgil—although of course He has the ability to do exactly that should He choose. The evidence of the text, however, does not in any way suggest that Dante thought that He would. For example, Virgil is allowed to describe his place in Limbo as eternal (Purg. XXI.18), not something the poet would have put in his mouth were he to have disagreed, as is (or ought to be) abundantly clear. [return to English / Italian]
109–114. In response to this passage, perhaps Venturi (comm. to this verse) was the first commentator to cite the following pertinent text in Matthew (12:41–42): “The men of Nineveh will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and behold, a greater than Jonah is here. The queen of the South will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and behold, a greater than Solomon is here.” [return to English / Italian]
110. This verse has been a stumbling block for some readers. The clause “when the two assemblies go their separate ways” almost certainly does not mean, as some have taken it to do, that the Ethiopians shall depart from the wicked Christians and go to Heaven. Rather, it signifies that when the sheep (the saved “soldiery of Heaven”) are separated from the goats (both decent Ethiopian nonbelievers and sinful Christians), these virtuous heathen will (justly) castigate their Christian counterparts, who were given the key to Heaven and chose not even to try to unlock its gates. [return to English / Italian]
112. The word “kings” sets up the acrostic with its list of those rotten rulers that fills the rest of the canto. [return to English / Italian]
113. The noun volume was first used, we may remember, to indicate Virgil’s Aeneid (see Inf. 1.84 and note). Of its nine occurrences in the poem (see Hollander [Holl.1969.1], pp. 78–79, unaccountably mentioning only seven of these, omitting the two occurrences found at Par. XXIII.112 and XXVI.119), only this one refers more or less directly to the Bible, more precisely, to the Apocalypse (20:12), as was first pointed out in specific terms by Pietro Alighieri ([Pietro1] comm. to vv. 112–114). These two uses do not make Virgil’s book a Christian book by association; rather, they underline the tragic distance separating Virgil from salvation. The biblical text refers to the Book of Life, in which are recorded the names of the saved, and other unnamed “Books of the Dead” (see discussion of Inf. XXIX.57 in Hollander [Holl.1982.1]): “And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and the books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done.” It is more than sufficiently clear that Dante is here referring not to the “good” book in Revelation 20:12, but to the “bad” one(s). [return to English / Italian]
114. That the word dispregio (here translated “infamy”) has already been seen at Inferno VIII.51 has been noted in the commentaries at least since the appearance of Poletto’s (1894, to vv. 112–114). This is its seventh and last appearance in the poem, in one form or another. [return to English / Italian]
115–139. Dante’s second (and last) full-scale acrostic in the poem (for the first, see the note to Purgatorio XII.25–63). There can be little doubt but that this one, too, is a deliberate contrivance, whatever the strength of the feelings one happens to harbor against such literary behavior. Three sets of three consecutive tercets begin with the same letter, L, V, and E, respectively, thus spelling the word lue, or “plague.” However, even such astute readers as Bosco and Reggio (comm. to verse 115) seem to want to join Savi-Lopez (BSDI 10 [1903], p. 328) in thinking Dante’s LVE the result of mere chance. While that seems extreme, at the other end of extremity we find Taylor (Tayl.1987.1), who wants to extend the acrostic by adding the “i” and “emme” of its central tercet (vv. 128–129) so as to get the scrambled word “lueim,” an anagram for umile (humble). For her more than questionable procedure in so doing, see Barolini’s complaint (Baro.1992.1), pp. 309–10. Barolini (pp. 308–9) also dismisses three other “discoverers” of “acrostics” elsewhere in the poem. However, see Allegretti (Alle.2004.2) for a study of yet another (and hitherto unobserved) acrostic in Dante’s poetic response to Giovanni del Virgilio’s invitation to compose a pastoral eclogue. [return to English / Italian]
115–117. Lì, here and in the next two tercets, means “in that volume,” that is, in the “Book of the Dead.” Albert (emperor from 1298–1308, i.e., in precedence of Henry VII), was previously denounced by Dante for his neglect of Italy (Purg. VI.97–126). In 1304 he invaded and devastated Bohemia. In the assemblage of fifteen crowned heads appearing here, Albert is the only one to be named, thus giving us a sense of how much knowledge of “current events” Dante believed he could count on in his readers. [return to English / Italian]
118–120. “On the banks of the Seine,” that is, at Paris, where Philip the Fair caused his subjects great distress when he adulterated the coinage. See the note to verse 119. [return to English / Italian]
119. For Philip’s monetarist failings, see Oelsner (comm. to vv. 119–120): “[the king] debased the coinage to one-third of its value, in order to meet the expenses of his Flemish campaigns in 1302. This is one of several passages in which we see the horror of tampering with the coinage entertained by Dante, the citizen of the greatest commercial city of Europe. As the symbol of greed the Florin was the ‘accursed flower’ of Par. IX.130, but as the foundation of all commercial relations it was worthy of such reverence that he who tampered with it was to be ranked with him who falsified the very personality of human beings, the ultimate basis of human intercourse.” Toynbee (“Filippo2”) points out that Philip is always named by periphrasis in the poem, never by his name, and lists his other main periphrastic appearances: Inferno XIX.87; Purgatorio VII.109, XX.91. [return to English / Italian]
120. This mention of the death of the French king dates the canto as having been composed (or, at least, modified) after November 1314, according to Campi (comm. to vv. 118–120); see also Foster (Fost.1976.1), p. 85. The Ottimo (comm. to vv. 118–120), writing in 1333, knew about the death of Philip the Fair, caused by a boar. (The word cotenna, in Tuscany, meant the hide of a wild pig and perhaps, in Dante’s day [as nineteenth-century commentators report, even then on the tongues of peasants in the Romagna], referred to the whole dangerous animal.) Lombardi (comm. to this verse) explains what happened (citing Villani [Cron. IX.66]): A boar ran among the legs of Philip’s horse and the frightened animal threw h
is royal rider, killing him. [return to English / Italian]
121–123. “The pride that makes men thirst” is evidently the craving to dominate. Dante is probably referring to the border wars between Scotland and England in the reign of Edward I (1272–1307). However, just which monarch Dante has in mind is debated. Since the poet had previously praised Edward I (Purg. VII.130–132), some readers have suggested that Dante was thinking of Edward II, even if he ruled at a period that places him outside the limits established for everyone else mentioned in this list (i.e., to have been governing in 1300). Thus it probably seems necessary to believe one of two things: Either Dante had received information that made him change his mind about Edward I, or else he had incorrect dates for Edward II. The Scottish leader referred to is perhaps Robert the Bruce (1306–29). That would put him also outside the allotted time zone. However, as Tozer points out (comm. to this tercet), since Villani (Cron. VIII.90) represents him as the Scottish leader during Edward I’s reign, Dante may have fallen into the same error. [return to English / Italian]
124–126. Ferdinand IV of Castile and Wenceslaus IV of Bohemia. For the latter see Purgatorio VII.101–102, where he is described in much the same way. [return to English / Italian]
127–129. “The Cripple of Jerusalem” was the derogatory name for the lame Charles II, king of Apulia and Naples (1285–1309), who claimed the title “King of Jerusalem” enjoyed by his father, even though it never was granted to him as the son. Tozer (comm. to vv. 127–129) paraphrases and comments: “His virtues will be seen marked by a unit (I), his vices by an M (for Lat. mille, ‘a thousand’). The one virtue here intended was liberality, which Dante attributes to him in Paradiso VIII.82.” Steiner (comm. to vv. 128–130) says that others have suggested that “I” and “M” refer to the first and last letters of his desired and fraudulent title, “King of Ierusalem.” [return to English / Italian]
130–132. The reference is to Frederick II, son of Pedro of Aragon (see Purg. VII.119), and first regent (1291) and then king of Sicily (1296–1337). Sicily is referred to as “the isle of fire” because of the volcanic activity of Mt. Etna. For the death of Anchises on its western shore, see Virgil (Aen. III.707–710). This Frederick II is not to be confused with the emperor Frederick II (see Inf. X.119 and note), who died in 1250. [return to English / Italian]
133–138. See Russo (Russ.1983.1), p. 105, for discussion of the rhymes based in the sound of -zz as typical of the low style, citing De vulgari eloquentia II.vii.5–6 on “hirsute” words that are not fitting for the tragic style. [return to English / Italian]
133–135. Frederick is the only one of the pestilential dozen to receive more than a single tercet for his dispraises. With a wry sense of humor, Dante claims that Frederick is unworthy of attention, yet he gives Frederick’s unworthiness more space than any of his competitors in malfeasance. Tozer paraphrases the tercet as follows and then comments: “ ‘In order to let men know how paltry he is, that which is written against him will take the form of abbreviations, which will enumerate many vices within a small space.’ Abbreviations were commonly used in MSS. to save space; so they would be used in God’s record of Frederic, because he was too insignificant for a large space to be allotted to him.” [return to English / Italian]
137–138. The uncle, barba, of Frederick II of Sicily was James, king of Majorca (and of Minorca). He lost his crown for ten years as a result of joining Philip the Bold of France in a disastrous invasion of Catalonia. His brother, James of Aragon (see Purg. VII.119), in 1291 succeeded to the throne of Aragon, surrendering his kingship of Sicily, which his father had acquired, and appointed his younger brother, Frederick, to it in 1296. By these acts the James boys dishonored both family and their kingship. [return to English / Italian]
137. Seven times in the first two canticles the word barba meant, what it still means, “beard.” Here it means “uncle,” as Francesco da Buti (comm. to vv. 136–148) informs us it does in Lombard. [return to English / Italian]
139–141. The concluding royal triad share a single tercet: Dionysius, king of Portugal; Haakon V, king of Norway; and Stephen Ouros, king of Rascia, the modern Illyria and Dalmatia. Tozer (comm. to this tercet): “[Stephen] struck coins of debased metal in imitation of the Venetian ducat; the resemblance of the two is seen in the figures given by Philalethes, p. 259.” [return to English / Italian]
142–148. The acrostic comes to a close, but Dante is not yet finished cataloguing the ills of Europe’s suffering kingdoms. This ungainly departure from the acrostic mode suggested to Bosco/Reggio that the acrostic itself may have occurred without design (see the note to vv. 115–139). The reader notes that these three examples offer mixed messages: the first of a good monarch leading to continued good governance, the second of a good monarch whose work will be undone at her death, and the third of a disastrous monarch. [return to English / Italian]
142–144. Tozer (comm. to this tercet): “Hungary had been governed by corrupt princes until the time of Andrea III (1290–1301), who was a good sovereign. ‘Happy Navarre, if she should defend herself with the mountain that girds her,’ the Pyrenees. Joan of Navarre had married Philip the Fair in 1284, but governed her kingdom independently. On her death in 1305 it passed to her son Louis Hutin, and when he succeeded to the throne of France as Louis X in 1314, it was annexed to the French crown.” [return to English / Italian]
145–147. Tozer (comm. to this tercet): “Cyprus, of which Nicosia and Famagosta were the chief cities, was badly governed in 1300 by Henry II of Lusignan, who was a man of corrupt life.” [return to English / Italian]
148. As a coda to the whole parade of princes, we are told that Henry (as opposed to Andrea III and Joanna of Navarre?), a bad ruler, keeps the (metaphoric) company of the dirty dozen referred to in the acrostic. [return to English / Italian]
PARADISO XX
* * *
1–12. Any aesthetic performance is likely, at moments, to leave its observer wondering as to the motives of the performer. For example, here one might inquire why Dante did not decide to make this already highly wrought passage a perfectly turned simile. It has all the requisite elements, lacking only the initial Come (Just as) and the pivotal così (so) at the beginning of the seventh verse. With regard to the classical simile, it almost seems as though he had decided to ring the changes on an established form as frequently as he could. See the notes to Purgatorio XXVII.76–87; Paradiso XIV.19–24 and XIV.118–123.
The Eagle has stopped speaking as a corporate entity. That allows the individual voices of this particular collective of the saved to speak as themselves. Had their actual words been recorded here, it probably would have been clear, as it is when they speak as themselves at the end of the canto, that their descriptor for themselves is “we” (verse 134) and not “I” (verse 31). In simile, they are like the shining of the stars after the sun has left the sky (in Dante’s further comparison, once the Eagle’s beak has gone silent). [return to English / Italian]
6. According to Dante’s astronomy, stars did not glow with their own energy, but derived their light from the Sun (see Conv. III.xii.7): “… il sole. Lo quale di sensibile luce sé prima e poi tutte le corpora celestiali e [le] elementali allumina” (the Sun, which illuminates with perceptible light first itself and then all the celestial and elemental bodies [tr. R. Lansing]). And see the discussion in the introduction to Paradiso, section 2. [return to English / Italian]
8. The “emblem of the world” is the Eagle, symbol of universal empire, the ideal that Dante embraced so warmly in his Monarchia. [return to English / Italian]
13–15. The poet apostrophizes the love emanating from these spirits, wreathed in “smiles”: How ardent did this love appear in those “pipes” (or in those “flames” [there is much debate in the commentaries over this choice]) that were so full of holy thoughts! As Bosco/Reggio (comm. to verse 14) point out, the word flaillo is an absolute hapax, meaning that this is its unique appearance, not only in the Commedia, not only in all t
he works of Dante, but in the history of the Italian language. In their opinion, there is no way to decide between the two possible meanings, “flute” (see French flavel) or “flame” (from O Fr. flael), since both find resonance in the surrounding context. However, Benvenuto states unambiguously that the reference is to sound. And his opinion is given further weight by the musical reference of the simile in vv. 22–27. [return to English / Italian]
16–18. The silence of the souls, having left off their singing (which Dante could not hold in mind [verse 12]), begun when the Eagle had ceased its speech, gives way to what seems to be the rumbling sound of a river, giving evidence of the profusion of its lofty source (it will be the voice of the Eagle, rumbling like an organ pipe filling with new air). This tercet marks the beginning of the first of the two central elements of the canto, a presentation of the souls that make up the eye of the Eagle (vv. 16–78); the second, the Eagle’s explanation of the presence in Paradise of those who certainly appear to be pagans, runs through vv. 79–129. [return to English / Italian]
18. The phrase li angelici squilli is probably not to be understood as the “song of the angels” (Bosco/Reggio [comm. to this verse]), but as the “angelic songs” of the blessed. [return to English / Italian]