Dante
Italian poet
in full Dante Alighieri
born c. May 21–June 20, 1265, Florence, Italy
died Sept. 13/14, 1321, Ravenna
Overview
Italian poet.
Dante was of noble ancestry, and his life was shaped by the conflict
between papal and imperial partisans (the Guelfs and Ghibellines). When
an opposing political faction within the Guelfs (Dante’s party) gained
ascendancy, he was exiled (1302) from Florence, to which he never
returned. His life was given direction by his spiritual love for
Beatrice Portinari (d. 1290), to whom he dedicated most of his poetry.
His great friendship with Guido Cavalcanti shaped his later career as
well. La Vita Nuova (1293?) celebrates Beatrice in verse. In his
difficult years of exile, he wrote the verse collection The Banquet (c.
1304–07); De vulgari eloquentia (1304–07; “Concerning Vernacular
Eloquence”), the first theoretical discussion of the Italian literary
language; and On Monarchy (1313?), a major Latin treatise on medieval
political philosophy. He is best known for the monumental epic poem The
Divine Comedy (written c. 1308–21; originally titled simply Commedia), a
profoundly Christian vision of human temporal and eternal destiny. It is
an allegory of universal human destiny in the form of a pilgrim’s
journey through hell and purgatory, guided by the Roman poet Virgil, and
then to Paradise, guided by Beatrice. By writing it in Italian rather
than Latin, Dante almost singlehandedly made Italian a literary
language, and he stands as one of the towering figures of European
literature.
Main
Italian poet, prose writer, literary theorist, moral philosopher, and
political thinker. He is best known for the monumental epic poem La
commedia, later named La divina commedia (The Divine Comedy).
Dante’s Divine Comedy, a great work of medieval literature, is a
profound Christian vision of man’s temporal and eternal destiny. On its
most personal level, it draws on the poet’s own experience of exile from
his native city of Florence; on its most comprehensive level, it may be
read as an allegory, taking the form of a journey through hell,
purgatory, and paradise. The poem amazes by its array of learning, its
penetrating and comprehensive analysis of contemporary problems, and its
inventiveness of language and imagery. By choosing to write his poem in
Italian rather than in Latin, Dante decisively influenced the course of
literary development. Not only did he lend a voice to the emerging lay
culture of his own country, but Italian became the literary language in
western Europe for several centuries.
In addition to poetry Dante wrote important theoretical works ranging
from discussions of rhetoric to moral philosophy and political thought.
He was fully conversant with the classical tradition, drawing for his
own purposes on such writers as Virgil, Cicero, and Boethius. But, most
unusual for a layman, he also had an impressive command of the most
recent scholastic philosophy and of theology. His learning and his
personal involvement in the heated political controversies of his age
led him to the composition of De monarchia, one of the major tracts of
medieval political philosophy.
Early life and the Vita nuova
Most of what is known about Dante’s life he has told himself. He was
born in Florence in 1265 under the sign of Gemini (between May 21 and
June 20) and remained devoted to his native city all his life. Dante
describes how he fought as a cavalryman against the Ghibellines, a
banished Florentine party supporting the imperial cause. He also speaks
of his great teacher Brunetto Latini and his gifted friend Guido
Cavalcanti, of the poetic culture in which he made his first artistic
ventures, his poetic indebtedness to Guido Guinizelli, the origins of
his family in his great-great-grandfather, Cacciaguida, whom the reader
meets in the central cantos of the Paradiso (and from whose wife the
family name, Alighieri, derived), and, going back even further, of the
pride that he felt in the fact that his distant ancestors were
descendants of the Roman soldiers who settled along the banks of the
Arno.
Yet Dante has little to say about his more immediate family. There is
no mention of his father or mother, brother or sister in The Divine
Comedy. A sister is possibly referred to in the Vita nuova, and his
father is the subject of insulting sonnets exchanged in jest between
Dante and his friend Forese Donati. Because Dante was born in 1265 and
the exiled Guelfs, to whose party Dante’s family adhered, did not return
until 1266, Dante’s father apparently was not a figure considerable
enough to warrant exile. Dante’s mother died when he was young,
certainly before he was 14. Her name was Bella, but of which family is
unknown. Dante’s father then married Lapa di Chiarissimo Cialuffi and
they produced a son, Francesco, and a daughter, Gaetana. Dante’s father
died prior to 1283, since at that time Dante, having come into his
majority, was able as an orphan to sell a credit owned by his father.
The elder Alighieri left his children a modest yet comfortable patrimony
of property in Florence and in the country. About this time Dante
married Gemma Donati, to whom he had been betrothed since 1277.
Dante’s life was shaped by the long history of conflict between the
imperial and papal partisans called, respectively, Ghibellines and
Guelfs. Following the middle of the 13th century the antagonisms were
brutal and deadly, with each side alternately gaining the upper hand and
inflicting gruesome penalties and exile upon the other. In 1260 the
Guelfs, after a period of ascendancy, were defeated in the battle of
Montaperti (Inferno X, XXXII), but in 1266 a force of Guelfs, supported
by papal and French armies, was able to defeat the Ghibellines at
Benevento, expelling them forever from Florence. This meant that Dante
grew up in a city brimming with postwar pride and expansionism, eager to
extend its political control throughout Tuscany. Florentines compared
themselves with Rome and the civilization of the ancient city-states.
Not only did Florence extend its political power, but it was ready to
exercise intellectual dominance as well. The leading figure in
Florence’s intellectual ascendancy was a returning exile, Brunetto
Latini. When in the Inferno Dante describes his encounter with his great
teacher, this is not to be regarded as simply a meeting of one pupil
with his master but rather as an encounter of an entire generation with
its intellectual mentor. Latini had awakened a new public consciousness
in the prominent figures of a younger generation, including Guido
Cavalcanti, Forese Donati, and Dante himself, encouraging them to put
their knowledge and skill as writers to the service of their city or
country. Dante readily accepted the Aristotelian assumption that man is
a social (political) being. Even in the Paradiso (VIII.117) Dante allows
as being beyond any possible dispute the notion that things would be far
worse for man were he not a member of a city-state.
A contemporary historian, Giovanni Villani, characterized Latini as
the “initiator and master in refining the Florentines and in teaching
them how to speak well, and how to guide our republic according to
political philosophy [la politica].” Despite the fact that Latini’s most
important book, Li Livres dou Trésor (1262–66; The Tresor), was written
in French (Latini had passed his years of exile in France), its culture
is Dante’s culture; it is a repository of classical citation. The first
part of Book II contains one of the early translations in a modern
European vernacular of Aristotle’s Ethics. On almost every question or
topic of philosophy, ethics, and politics Latini freely quotes from
Cicero and Seneca. And, almost as frequently, when treating questions of
government, he quotes from the book of Proverbs, as Dante was to do. The
Bible, as well as the writings of Aristotle, Cicero, and Seneca, as
represented in Latini’s work, were the mainstays of Dante’s early
culture.
Of these Rome presents the most inspiring source of identification.
The cult of Cicero began to develop alongside that of Aristotle; Cicero
was perceived as not only preaching but as fully exemplifying the
intellectual as citizen. A second Roman element in Latini’s legacy to
become an important part of Dante’s culture was the love of glory, the
quest for fame through a wholehearted devotion to excelling. For this
reason, in the Inferno (XV) Latini is praised for instructing Dante in
the means by which man makes himself immortal, and in his farewell words
Latini commits to Dante’s care his Tresor, through which he trusts his
memory will survive.
Dante was endowed with remarkable intellectual and aesthetic
self-confidence. By the time he was 18, as he himself says in the Vita
nuova, he had already taught himself the art of making verse (chapter
III). He sent an early sonnet, which was to become the first poem in the
Vita nuova, to the most famous poets of his day. He received several
responses, but the most important one came from Cavalcanti, and this was
the beginning of their great friendship.
As in all meetings of great minds the relationship between Dante and
Cavalcanti was a complicated one. In chapter XXX of the Vita nuova Dante
states that it was through Cavalcanti’s exhortations that he wrote his
first book in Italian rather than in Latin. Later, in the Convivio,
written in Italian, and in De vulgari eloquentia, written in Latin,
Dante was to make one of the first great Renaissance defenses of the
vernacular. His later thinking on these matters grew out of his
discussions with Cavalcanti, who prevailed upon him to write only in the
vernacular. Because of this intellectual indebtedness, Dante dedicated
his Vita nuova to Cavalcanti—to his best friend (primo amico).
Later, however, when Dante became one of the priors of Florence, he
was obliged to concur with the decision to exile Cavalcanti, who
contracted malaria during the banishment and died in August 1300. In the
Inferno (X) Dante composed a monument to his great friend, and it is as
heartrending a tribute as his memorial to Latini. In both cases Dante
records his indebtedness, his fondness, and his appreciation of their
great merits, but in each he is equally obliged to record the facts of
separation. In order to save himself, he must find (or has found) other,
more powerful aesthetic, intellectual, and spiritual sponsorship than
that offered by his old friends and teachers.
One of these spiritual guides, for whom Cavalcanti evidently did not
have the same appreciation, was Beatrice, a figure in whom Dante created
one of the most celebrated fictionalized women in all of literature. In
keeping with the changing directions of Dante’s thought and the
vicissitudes of his career, she, too, underwent enormous changes in his
hands—sanctified in the Vita nuova, demoted in the canzoni (poems)
presented in the Convivio, only to be returned with more profound
comprehension in The Divine Comedy as the woman credited with having led
Dante away from the “vulgar herd.”
La vita nuova (c. 1293; The New Life) is the first of two collections
of verse that Dante made in his lifetime, the other being the Convivio.
Each is a prosimetrum, that is, a work composed of verse and prose. In
each case the prose is a device for binding together poems composed over
about a 10-year period. The Vita nuova brought together Dante’s poetic
efforts from before 1283 to roughly 1292–93; the Convivio, a bulkier and
more ambitious work, contains Dante’s most important poetic compositions
from just prior to 1294 to the time of The Divine Comedy.
The Vita nuova, which Dante called his libello, or small book, is a
remarkable work. It contains 42 brief chapters with commentaries on 25
sonnets, one ballata, and four canzoni; a fifth canzone is left
dramatically interrupted by Beatrice’s death. The prose commentary
provides the frame story, which does not emerge from the poems
themselves (it is, of course, conceivable that some were actually
written for other occasions than those alleged). The story is simple
enough, telling of Dante’s first sight of Beatrice when both are nine
years of age, her salutation when they are 18, Dante’s expedients to
conceal his love for her, the crisis experienced when Beatrice withholds
her greeting, Dante’s anguish that she is making light of him, his
determination to rise above anguish and sing only of his lady’s virtues,
anticipations of her death (that of a young friend, the death of her
father, and Dante’s own premonitory dream), and finally the death of
Beatrice, Dante’s mourning, the temptation of the sympathetic donna
gentile (a young woman who temporarily replaces Beatrice), Beatrice’s
final triumph and apotheosis, and, in the last chapter, Dante’s
determination to write at some later time about her “that which has
never been written of any woman.”
Yet with all of this apparently autobiographical purpose the Vita
nuova is strangely impersonal. The circumstances it sets down are
markedly devoid of any historical facts or descriptive detail (thus
making it pointless to engage in too much debate as to the exact
historical identity of Beatrice). The language of the commentary also
adheres to a high level of generality. Names are rarely used—Cavalcanti
is referred to three times as Dante’s “best friend”; Dante’s sister is
referred to as “she who was joined to me by the closest proximity of
blood.” On the one hand Dante suggests the most significant stages of
emotional experience, but on the other he seems to distance his
descriptions from strong emotional reactions. The larger structure in
which Dante arranged poems written over a 10-year period and the
generality of his poetic language are indications of his early and
abiding ambition to go beyond the practices of local poets.
Dante’s intellectual development and public career
A second contemporary poetic figure behind Dante was Guido Guinizelli,
the poet most responsible for altering the prevailing local, or
“municipal,” kind of poetry. Guinizelli’s verse provided what Cavalcanti
and Dante were looking for—a remarkable sense of joy contained in a
refined and lucid aesthetic. What increased the appeal of his poetry was
its intellectual, even philosophical, content. His poems were written in
praise of the lady and of gentilezza, the virtue that she brought out in
her admirer. The conception of love that he extolled was part of a
refined and noble sense of life. It was Guinizelli’s influence that was
responsible for the poetic and spiritual turning point of the Vita
nuova. As reported in chapters XVII to XXI, Dante experienced a change
of heart, and rather than write poems of anguish, he determined to write
poems in praise of his lady, especially the canzone Donne ch’avete
intelletto d’amore (“Ladies Who Have Understanding of Love”). This
canzone is followed immediately by the sonnet Amore e ’l cor gentil sono
una cosa (“Love and the Noble Heart Are the Same Thing”), the first line
of which is clearly an adaptation of Guinizelli’s Al cor gentil ripara
sempre amore (“In Every Noble Heart Love Finds Its Home”). This was the
beginning of Dante’s association with a new poetic style, the dolce stil
nuovo (“the sweet new style”), the significance of which—the simple
means by which it transcended the narrow range of the more regional
poetry—he dramatically explains in the Purgatorio (XXIV).
This interest in philosophical poetry led Dante into another great
change in his life, which he describes in the Convivio. Looking for
consolation following the death of Beatrice, Dante reports that he
turned to philosophy, particularly to the writings of Boethius and
Cicero. But what was intended as a temporary reprieve from sorrow became
a lifelong avocation and one of the most crucial intellectual events in
Dante’s career. The donna gentile of the Vita nuova was transformed into
Lady Philosophy, who soon occupied all of Dante’s thoughts. He began
attending the religious schools of Florence in order to hear
disputations on philosophy, and within a period of only 30 months “the
love of her [philosophy] banished and destroyed every other thought.” In
his poem Voi che ’ntendendo il terzo ciel movete (“You Who Through
Intelligence Move the Third Sphere”) he dramatizes this conversion from
the sweet old style, associated with Beatrice and the Vita nuova, to the
rigorous, even severe, new style associated with philosophy. This period
of study gave expression to a series of canzoni that were eventually to
form the poetic basis for the philosophic commentary of the Convivio.
Another great change was Dante’s more active political involvement in
the affairs of the commune. In 1295 he became a member of the guild of
physicians and apothecaries (to which philosophers could belong), which
opened his way to public office. But he entered the public arena at a
most perilous time in the city’s politics. As it had been during the
time of the Guelf and Ghibelline civil strife, in the 1290s Florence
once again became a divided city. The ruling Guelf class of Florence
became divided into a party of “Blacks,” led by Corso Donati, and a
party of “Whites,” to which Dante belonged. The Whites gained the upper
hand and exiled the Blacks.
There is ample information concerning Dante’s activities following
1295. In May 1300 he was part of an important embassy to San Gimignano,
a neighbouring town, whose purpose it was to solidify the Guelf league
of Tuscan cities against the mounting ambitions of the new and embattled
pope Boniface VIII. When Dante was elected to the priorate in 1300, he
presumably was already recognized as a spokesman for those in the
commune determined to resist the Pontiff’s policies. Dante thus
experienced a complete turnabout in his attitudes concerning the extent
of papal power. The hegemony of the Guelfs—the party supporting the
Pope—had been restored in Florence in 1266 by an alliance forged between
the forces of France and the papacy. By 1300, however, Dante had come to
oppose the territorial ambitions of the Pope, and this in turn provided
the intellectual motivation for another, even greater change: Dante, the
Guelf moderate, would in time, through his firsthand experience of the
ill effects of papal involvement in political matters, become in the
Convivio, in the later polemical work the Monarchia, and most
importantly throughout The Divine Comedy, one of the most fervently
outspoken defenders of the position that the empire does not derive its
political authority from the pope.
Events, moreover, propelled Dante into further opposition to papal
policies. A new alliance was formed between the papacy, the French (the
brother of King Philip IV, Charles of Valois, was acting in concert with
Boniface), and the exiled Black Guelfs. When Charles of Valois wished
permission to enter Florence, the city itself was thrown into political
indecision. In order to ascertain the nature of the Pope’s intentions,
an embassy was sent to Rome to discuss these matters with him. Dante was
one of the emissaries, but his quandary was expressed in the legendary
phrase “If I go, who remains; if I remain, who goes?” Dante was
outmaneuvered. The Pope dismissed the other two legates and detained
Dante. In early November 1301 the forces of Charles of Valois were
permitted entry to Florence. That very night the exiled Blacks
surreptitiously reentered Florence and for six days terrorized the city.
Dante learned of the deception at first in Rome and then more fully in
Siena. In January 1302 he was called to appear before the new Florentine
government and, failing to do so, was condemned, along with three other
former priors, for crimes he had not committed. Again failing to appear,
on March 10, 1302, Dante and 14 other Whites were condemned to be burned
to death. Thus Dante suffered the most decisive crisis of his life. In
The Divine Comedy he frequently and powerfully speaks of this rupture;
indeed, he makes it the central dramatic act toward which a long string
of prophecies points. But it is also Dante’s purpose to show the means
by which he triumphed over his personal disaster, thus making his poem
into a true “divine comedy.”
Exile, the Convivio, and the De monarchia
Information about Dante’s early years in exile is scanty; nevertheless,
enough is known to provide a broad picture. It seems that Dante at first
was active among the exiled White Guelfs in their attempts to seek a
military return. These efforts proved fruitless. Evidently Dante grew
disillusioned with the other Florentine outcasts, the Ghibellines, and
was determined to prove his worthiness by means of his writings and thus
secure his return. These are the circumstances that led him to compose
Il convivio (c. 1304–07; The Banquet).
Dante projected a work of 15 books, 14 of which would be commentaries
on different canzoni. He completed only four of the books. The finished
commentaries in many ways go beyond the scope of the poems, becoming a
compendium of instruction with much of the random display of an amateur
in philosophy. Dante’s intention in the Convivio, as in The Divine
Comedy, was to place the challenging moral and political issues of his
day into a suitable ethical and metaphysical framework.
Book I of the Convivio is in large part a stirring and systematic
defense of the vernacular. (The unfinished De vulgari eloquentia [c.
1304–07; Concerning Vernacular Eloquence], a companion piece, presumably
written in coordination with Book I, is primarily a practical treatise
in the art of poetry based upon an elevated poetic language.) Dante
became the great advocate of its use and in the final sentence of Book I
he accurately predicts its glorious future:
This shall be the new light, the new sun, which shall rise when the
worn-out one shall set, and shall give light to them who are in shadow
and in darkness because of the old sun, which does not enlighten them.
The revolution Dante described was nothing less than the twilight of
the predominantly clerical Latin culture and the emergence of a lay,
vernacular urban literacy. Dante saw himself as the philosopher-mediator
between the two, helping to educate a newly enfranchised public
readership. The Italian literature that Dante heralded was soon to
become the leading literature and Italian the leading literary language
of Europe, and they would continue to be that for more than three
centuries.
In the Convivio Dante’s mature political and philosophical system is
nearly complete. In this work Dante makes his first stirring defense of
the imperial tradition and, more specifically, of the Roman Empire. He
introduces the crucial concept of horme, that is, of an innate desire
that prompts the soul to return to God. But it requires proper education
through examples and doctrine. Otherwise it can become misdirected
toward worldly aims and society torn apart by its destructive power. In
the Convivio Dante establishes the link between his political thought
and his understanding of human appetite: given the pope’s craving for
worldly power, at the time there existed no proper spiritual models to
direct the appetite toward God; and given the weakness of the empire,
there existed no law sufficient to exercise a physical restraint on the
will. For Dante this explains the chaos into which Italy had been
plunged, and it moved him, in hopes of remedying these conditions, to
take up the epic task of The Divine Comedy.
But a political event occurred that at first raised tremendous hope
but then plunged Dante into still greater disillusionment. In November
1308 Henry, the count of Luxembourg, was elected king of Germany, and in
July 1309 the French pope, Clement V, who had succeeded Boniface,
declared Henry to be king of the Romans and invited him to Rome, where
in time he would be crowned Holy Roman emperor in St. Peter’s Basilica.
The possibility of once again having an emperor electrified Italy; and
among the imperial proponents was Dante, who saw approaching the
realization of an ideal that he had long held: the coming of an emperor
pledged to restore peace while also declaring his spiritual
subordination to religious authority. Within a short time after his
arrival in Italy in 1310 Henry VII’s great appeal began to fade. He
lingered too long in the north, allowing his enemies to gather strength.
Foremost among the opposition to this divinely ordained moment, as Dante
regarded it, was the commune of Florence.
During these years Dante wrote important political epistles—evidence
of the great esteem in which he was held throughout Italy, of his
personal authority, as it were—in which he exalted Henry, urging him to
be diligent, and condemned Florence. In subsequent action, however,
which was to remind Dante of Boniface’s duplicity, Clement himself
turned against Henry. This action prompted one of Dante’s greatest
polemical treatises, his De monarchia (c. 1313; On Monarchy) in which he
expands the political arguments of the Convivio. In the embittered
atmosphere caused by Clement’s deceit Dante turned his argumentative
powers against papal insistence on its superiority over the political
ruler, that is, against the argument that the empire derived its
political authority from the pope. In the final passages of the
Monarchia Dante writes that the ends designed by Providence for man are
twofold: one end is the bliss of this life, which is conveyed in the
figure of the earthly paradise; the other is the bliss of eternal life,
which is embodied in the image of a heavenly paradise. Yet despite their
different ends, these two purposes are not unconnected. Dante concludes
his Monarchia by assuring his reader that he does not mean to imply
“that the Roman government is in no way subject to the Roman
pontificate, for in some ways our mortal happiness is ordered for the
sake of immortal happiness.” Dante’s problem was that he had to express
in theoretical language a subtle relationship that might be better
conveyed by metaphoric language and historical example. Surveying the
history of the relationship between papacy and empire, Dante pointed
with approval to specific historical examples, such as Constantine’s
good will toward the church. Dante’s disappointment in the failed
mission of Henry VII derived from the fact that Henry’s original sponsor
was apparently Pope Clement and that conditions seemed to be ideal for
reestablishing the right relationship between the supreme powers.
The Divine Comedy
Dante’s years of exile were years of difficult peregrinations from one
place to another—as he himself repeatedly says, most effectively in
Paradiso [XVII], in Cacciaguida’s moving lamentation that “bitter is the
taste of another man’s bread and . . . heavy the way up and down another
man’s stair.” Throughout his exile Dante nevertheless was sustained by
work on his great poem. The Divine Comedy was possibly begun prior to
1308 and completed just before his death in 1321, but the exact dates
are uncertain. In addition, in his final years Dante was received
honourably in many noble houses in the north of Italy, most notably by
Guido Novello da Polenta, the nephew of the remarkable Francesca, in
Ravenna. There at his death Dante was given an honourable burial
attended by the leading men of letters of the time, and the funeral
oration was delivered by Guido himself.
The plot of The Divine Comedy is simple: a man, generally assumed to
be Dante himself, is miraculously enabled to undertake an ultramundane
journey, which leads him to visit the souls in Hell, Purgatory, and
Paradise. He has two guides: Virgil, who leads him through the Inferno
and Purgatorio, and Beatrice, who introduces him to Paradiso. Through
these fictional encounters taking place from Good Friday evening in 1300
through Easter Sunday and slightly beyond, Dante learns of the exile
that is awaiting him (which had, of course, already occurred at the time
of the writing). This device allowed Dante not only to create a story
out of his pending exile but also to explain the means by which he came
to cope with his personal calamity and to offer suggestions for the
resolution of Italy’s troubles as well. Thus, the exile of an individual
becomes a microcosm of the problems of a country, and it also becomes
representative of the fall of man. Dante’s story is thus historically
specific as well as paradigmatic.
The basic structural component of The Divine Comedy is the canto. The
poem consists of 100 cantos, which are grouped together into three
sections, or canticles, Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso. Technically
there are 33 cantos in each canticle and one additional canto, contained
in the Inferno, which serves as an introduction to the entire poem. For
the most part the cantos range from about 136 to about 151 lines. The
poem’s rhyme scheme is the terza rima (aba, bcb, cdc, etc.) Thus, the
divine number of three is present in every part of the work.
Dante’s Inferno differs from its great classical predecessors in both
position and purpose. In Homer’s Odyssey (Book XII) and Virgil’s Aeneid
(Book VI) the visit to the land of the dead occurs in the middle of the
poem because in these centrally placed books the essential values of
life are revealed. Dante, while adopting the convention, transforms the
practice by beginning his journey with the visit to the land of the
dead. He does this because his poem’s spiritual pattern is not classical
but Christian: Dante’s journey to Hell represents the spiritual act of
dying to the world, and hence it coincides with the season of Christ’s
own death. (In this way, Dante’s method is similar to that of Milton in
Paradise Lost, where the flamboyant but defective Lucifer and his fallen
angels are presented first.) The Inferno represents a false start during
which Dante, the character, must be disabused of harmful values that
somehow prevent him from rising above his fallen world. Despite the
regressive nature of the Inferno, Dante’s meetings with the roster of
the damned are among the most memorable moments of the poem: the
Neutrals, the virtuous pagans, Francesca da Rimini, Filipo Argenti,
Farinata degli Uberti, Piero delle Vigne, Brunetto Latini, the
simoniacal popes, Ulysses, and Ugolino impose themselves upon the
reader’s imagination with tremendous force.
The visit to Hell is, as Virgil and later Beatrice explain, an
extreme measure, a painful but necessary act before real recovery can
begin. This explains why the Inferno is both aesthetically and
theologically incomplete. For instance, readers frequently express
disappointment at the lack of dramatic or emotional power in the final
encounter with Satan in canto XXXIV. But because the journey through the
Inferno primarily signifies a process of separation and thus is only the
initial step in a fuller development, it must end with a distinct
anticlimax. In a way this is inevitable because the final revelation of
Satan can have nothing new to offer: the sad effects of his presence in
human history have already become apparent throughout the Inferno.
In the Purgatorio the protagonist’s painful process of spiritual
rehabilitation commences; in fact, this part of the journey may be
considered the poem’s true moral starting point. Here the pilgrim Dante
subdues his own personality in order that he may ascend. In fact, in
contrast to the Inferno, where Dante is confronted with a system of
models that needs to be discarded, in the Purgatorio few characters
present themselves as models; all of the penitents are pilgrims along
the road of life. Dante, rather than being an awed if alienated
observer, is an active participant. If the Inferno is a canticle of
enforced and involuntary alienation, in which Dante learns how harmful
were his former allegiances, in the Purgatorio he comes to accept as
most fitting the essential Christian image of life as a pilgrimage. As
Beatrice in her magisterial return in the earthly paradise reminds
Dante, he must learn to reject the deceptive promises of the temporal
world.
Despite its harsh regime, the Purgatorio is the realm of spiritual
dawn, where larger visions are entertained. Whereas in only one canto of
the Inferno (VII), in which Fortuna is discussed, is there any
suggestion of philosophy, in the Purgatorio, historical, political, and
moral vistas are opened up. It is, moreover, the great canticle of
poetry and the arts. Dante meant it literally when he proclaimed, after
the dreary dimensions of Hell: “But here let poetry rise again from the
dead.” There is only one poet in Hell proper and not more than two in
the Paradiso, but in the Purgatorio the reader encounters the musicians
Casella and Belacqua and the poet Sordello and hears of the fortunes of
the two Guidos, Guinizelli and Cavalcanti, the painters Cimabue and
Giotto, and the miniaturists. In the upper reaches of Purgatory, the
reader observes Dante reconstructing his classical tradition and then
comes even closer to Dante’s own great native tradition (placed higher
than the classical tradition) when he meets Forese Donati, hears
explained—in an encounter with Bonagiunta da Lucca—the true resources of
the dolce stil nuovo, and meets with Guido Guinizelli and hears how he
surpassed in skill and poetic mastery the reigning regional poet,
Guittone d’Arezzo. These cantos resume the line of thought presented in
the Inferno (IV), where among the virtuous pagans Dante announces his
own program for an epic and takes his place, “sixth among that number,”
alongside the classical writers. In the Purgatorio he extends that
tradition to include Statius (whose Thebaid did in fact provide the
matter for the more grisly features of the lower inferno), but he also
shows his more modern tradition originating in Guinizelli. Shortly after
his encounter with Guinizelli comes the long-awaited reunion with
Beatrice in the earthly paradise. Thus, from the classics Dante seems to
have derived his moral and political understanding as well as his
conception of the epic poem, that is, a framing story large enough to
encompass the most important issues of his day, but it was from his
native tradition that he acquired the philosophy of love that forms the
Christian matter of his poem.
This means of course that Virgil, Dante’s guide, must give way to
other leaders, and in a canticle generally devoid of drama the rejection
of Virgil becomes the single dramatic event. Dante’s use of Virgil is
one of the richest cultural appropriations in literature. To begin, in
Dante’s poem he is an exponent of classical reason. He is also a
historical figure and is presented as such in the Inferno (I): “. . .
once I was a man, and my parents were Lombards, both Mantuan by birth. I
was born sub Julio, though late in his time, and I lived in Rome under
the good Augustus, in the time of the false and lying gods.” Virgil,
moreover, is associated with Dante’s homeland (his references are to
contemporary Italian places), and his background is entirely imperial.
(Born under Julius Caesar, he extolled Augustus Caesar.) He is presented
as a poet, the theme of whose great epic sounds remarkably similar to
that of Dante’s poem: “I was a poet and sang of that just son of
Anchises who came from Troy after proud Ilium was burned.” So, too,
Dante sings of the just son of a city, Florence, who was unjustly
expelled, and forced to search, as Aeneas had done, for a better city,
in his case the heavenly city.
Virgil is a poet whom Dante had studied carefully and from whom he
had acquired his poetic style, the beauty of which has brought him much
honour. But Dante had lost touch with Virgil in the intervening years,
and when the spirit of Virgil returns it is one that seems weak from
long silence. But the Virgil that returns is more than a stylist; he is
the poet of the Roman Empire, a subject of great importance to Dante,
and he is a poet who has become a saggio, a sage, or moral teacher.
Though an exponent of reason, Virgil has become an emissary of divine
grace, and his return is part of the revival of those simpler faiths
associated with Dante’s earlier trust in Beatrice. And yet, of course,
Virgil by himself is insufficient. It cannot be said that Dante rejects
Virgil; rather he sadly found that nowhere in Virgil’s work, that is, in
his consciousness, was there any sense of personal liberation from the
enthrallment of history and its processes. Virgil had provided Dante
with moral instruction in survival as an exile, which is the theme of
his own poem as well as Dante’s, but he clung to his faith in the
processes of history, which, given their culmination in the Roman
Empire, were deeply consoling. Dante, on the other hand, was determined
to go beyond history because it had become for him a nightmare.
In the Paradiso true heroic fulfillment is achieved. Dante’s poem
gives expression to those figures from the past who seem to defy death.
Their historical impact continues and the totality of their commitment
inspires in their followers a feeling of exaltation and a desire for
identification. In his encounters with such characters as his
great-great-grandfather Cacciaguida and SS. Francis, Dominic, and
Bernard, Dante is carried beyond himself. The Paradiso is consequently a
poem of fulfillment and of completion. It is the fulfillment of what is
prefigured in the earlier canticles. Aesthetically it completes the
poem’s elaborate system of anticipation and retrospection.
Assessment and influence
The recognition and the honour that were the due of Dante’s Divine
Comedy did not have to await the long passage of time: by the year 1400
no fewer than 12 commentaries devoted to detailed expositions of its
meaning had appeared. Giovanni Boccaccio wrote a life of the poet and
then in 1373–74 delivered the first public lectures on The Divine Comedy
(which means that Dante was the first of the moderns whose work found
its place with the ancient classics in a university course). Dante
became known as the divino poeta, and in a splendid edition of his great
poem published in Venice in 1555 the adjective was applied to the poem’s
title; thus, the simple Commedia became La divina commedia, or The
Divine Comedy.
Even when the epic lost its appeal and was replaced by other art
forms (the novel, primarily, and the drama) Dante’s own fame continued.
In fact, his great poem enjoys the kind of power peculiar to a classic:
successive epochs have been able to find reflected in it their own
intellectual concerns. In the post-Napoleonic 19th century, readers
identified with the powerful, sympathetic, and doomed personalities of
the Inferno. In the early 20th century they found the poem to possess an
aesthetic power of verbal realization independent of and at times in
contradiction to its structure and argument. Later readers have been
eager to show the poem to be a polyphonic masterpiece, as integrated as
a mighty work of architecture, whose different sections reflect and, in
a way, respond to one another. Dante created a remarkable repertoire of
types in a work of vivid mimetic presentations, as well as a poem of
great stylistic artistry in its prefigurations and correspondences.
Moreover, he incorporated in all of this important political,
philosophical, and theological themes and did so in a way that shows
moral wisdom and lofty ethical vision.
Dante’s Divine Comedy is a poem that has flourished for more than 650
years: in the simple power of its striking imaginative conceptions it
has continued to astonish generations of readers; for more than a
hundred years it has been a staple in all higher educational programs in
the Western world; and it has continued to provide guidance and
nourishment to the major poets of our own times. William Butler Yeats
called Dante “the chief imagination of Christendom”; and T.S. Eliot
elevated Dante to a preeminence shared by only one other poet in the
modern world, William Shakespeare: “[They] divide the modern world
between them. There is no third.” In fact, they rival one another in
their creation of types that have entered into the world of reference
and association of modern thought. Like Shakespeare, Dante created
universal types from historical figures, and in so doing he considerably
enhanced the treasury of modern myth.
Ricardo J. Quinones
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INFERNO

Illustrations by Gustave Dore
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Halfway
through the journey we are living
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I found myself
deep in a darkened forest,
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For I had lost
all trace of the straight path.
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-
Ah how hard it
is to tell what it was like,
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5
How wild the forest was, how dense and rugged!
-
To think of it
still fills my mind with panic.
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-
So bitter it
is that death is hardly worse!
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But to
describe the good discovered there
-
I here will
tell the other things I saw.
-
-
10
I cannot say clearly how I entered there,
-
So drowsy with
sleep had I grown at that hour
-
When first I
wandered off from the true way.
-
-
But when I had
reached the base of a hill,
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There at the
border where the valley ended
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15
That had cut my heart to the quick with panic,
-
-
I looked up at
the hill and saw its shoulder
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Mantled
already with the planet's light
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That leads all
people straight by every road.
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-
With that my
panic quieted a little
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20
After lingering on in the lake of my heart
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Through the
night I had so grievously passed.
-
-
And like a
person who with panting breath
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Struggles
ashore out of the wide ocean
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Only to glance
back at the treacherous surf,
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25
Just so my mind, racing on ahead,
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Turned back to
marvel at the pass no one
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Ever before
had issued from alive.
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After resting
awhile my worn-out body,
-
I pressed on
up the wasted slope so that
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30
I always had one firm foot on the ground.
-
-
But look!
right near the upgrade of the climb
-
Loomed a fleet
and nimble-footed leopard
-
With coat
completely covered by dark spots!
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-
He did not
flinch or back off from my gaze,
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35
But blocking the path that lay before me,
-
Time and again
he forced me to turn around.
-
-
The hour was
the beginning of the morning,
-
And the sun
was rising with those stars
-
That first
attended it when divine Love
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-
40
Set these lovely creations round in motion,
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So that the
early hour and the pleasant season
-
Gave me good
reason to keep up my hopes
-
-
Of that fierce
beast there with his gaudy pelt.
-
But not so
when — to add now to my fears —
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45
In front of me I caught sight of a lion!
-
-
He appeared to
be coming straight at me
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With head held
high and furious for hunger,
-
So that the
air itself seemed to be shaking.
-
-
And then a
wolf stalked, ravenously lean,
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50
Seemingly laden with such endless cravings
-
That she had
made many live in misery!
-
-
She caused my
spirits to sink down so low,
-
From the dread
I felt in seeing her there,
-
I lost all
hope of climbing to the summit.
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55
And just as a man, anxious for big winnings,
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But the time
comes instead for him to lose,
-
Cries and
grieves the more he thinks about it,
-
-
So did the
restless she-beast make me feel
-
When, edging
closer toward me, step by step,
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60
She drove me back to where the sun is silent.
-
-
While I was
falling back to lower ground,
-
Before my eyes
now came a figure forward
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Of one grown
feeble from long being mute.
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When I saw him
in that deserted spot,
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65
"Pity me!" I shouted out to him,
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"Whoever you
are, a shade or living man."
-
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"Not a man,"
he answered. "Once a man,
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Of parents who
had come from Lombardy;
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Both of them
were Mantuans by birth.
-
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70
"I was born late in Julius's reign
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And dwelt at
Rome under the good Augustus
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In the period
of false and lying gods.
-
-
"A poet I was,
and I sang of the just
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Son of
Anchises who embarked from Troy
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75
After proud Ilium was burned to ashes.
-
-
"But why do
you turn back to so much grief?
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Why not bound
up the delightful mountain
-
Which is the
source and font of every joy?"
-
-
"Are you then
Virgil and that wellspring
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80
That pours forth so lush a stream of speech?"
-
Shamefacedly I
responded to him.
-
-
"O glory and
light of all other poets,
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May the long
study and the profound love
-
That made me
search your work come to my aid!
-
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85
"You are my mentor and my chosen author:
-
Alone you are
the one from whom I have taken
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The beautiful
style that has brought me honor.
-
-
"Look at the
beast that drove me to turn back!
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Rescue me from
her, celebrated sage,
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90
For she causes my veins and pulse to tremble."
-
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"You are
destined to take another route,"
-
He answered,
seeing me reduced to tears,
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"If you want
to be clear of this wilderness,
-
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"Because this
beast that forces you to cry out
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95
Will not let anyone pass by her way
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But harries
him until she finally kills him.
-
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"By nature she
is so depraved and vicious
-
That her
greedy appetite is never filled:
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The more she
feeds, the hungrier she grows.
-
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100
"Many the animal she has mated with,
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And will with
more to come, until the Greyhound
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That shall
painfully slaughter her arrives.
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"He shall not
feast on property or pelf
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But on wisdom,
love, and manliness,
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105
And he shall be
born between Feltro and Feltro.
-
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"He shall save
low prostrated Italy
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For which
Nisus, Turnus, and Euryalus,
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And the virgin
Camilla died of wounds.
-
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"He shall hunt
the beast through every town
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110
Until he chases her back down to hell
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From which
envy first had thrust her forth.
-
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"I think and
judge it best for you, then,
-
To follow me,
for I will be your guide,
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Directing you
to an eternal place
-
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115
"Where you shall listen to the desperate screams
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And see the
spirits of the past in torment,
-
As at his
second death each one cries out;
-
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"And you shall
also see those who are happy
-
Even in
flames, since they hope to come,
-
120
Whenever that may be, among the blessed.
-
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"If you still
wish to ascend to the blessed,
-
A soul
worthier than I shall guide you:
-
On my
departure I will leave you with her.
-
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"For the
Emperor who rules there above,
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125
Since I lived in rebellion to his law,
-
Will not
permit me to enter his city.
-
-
"Everywhere
his kingdom comes: there he reigns,
-
There his
heavenly city and high throne.
-
Oh happy the
one elected to go there!"
-
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130
And I said to him, "Poet, I entreat you,
-
By the God
whom you have never known,
-
So may I flee
from this and from worse evil,
-
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"Lead me to
the place you just described
-
That I may
come to see Saint Peter's gate
-
135
And those you say are deeply sorrowful."
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Then he moved on
and I walked straight behind.
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Day was now
fading, and the dusky air
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Released the
creatures dwelling here on earth
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From tiring
tasks, while I, the only one,
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Readied myself
to endure the battle
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5 Both
of the journey and the pathos,
-
Which flawless
memory shall here record.
-
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O Muses, O
high genius, aid me now!
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O memory that
noted what I saw,
-
Now shall your
true nobility be seen!
-
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10 I
then began, "Poet, you guide me here:
-
Be on your
guard lest my power fail me
-
Before you
make me face that plunging pass.
-
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"You tell us
how the father of Silvius,
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While in the
flesh, to the eternal world
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15 Journeyed,
with all his senses still alert.
-
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"But if the
Enemy of every evil
-
Was kind to
him, considering the high purpose
-
He performed,
and who and what he was,
-
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"This is not
hard for us to understand,
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20 Since
in the highest heaven he was chosen
-
Father of
honored Rome and of her empire.
-
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"The two —
city and empire — to tell the truth,
-
Were destined
to become the holy place
-
Where the
successor of mighty Peter sits.
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25 "By
this journey which you praise him for
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He came to
comprehend what was to bring
-
Triumph to him
and mantle to the pope.
-
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"Later the
Chosen Vessel journeyed beyond
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To bring back
reassurance in the faith
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30 Which
is the source of the way to salvation.
-
"But I, why should I go? Who gives
permission?
-
I am not
Aeneas, nor am I Paul!
-
Not I nor
anyone else would judge me worthy.
-
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"So, if I
surrender myself to going there,
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35 I
fear the undertaking shall prove folly.
-
You are wise,
you see more than I say."
-
Just as the man who, unwilling what he
wills,
-
Thinks back
over each thing he proposes
-
And ends by
giving up all he has started,
-
40 So
I acted in that darkened place
-
As I undid, by
thinking, the same task
-
I had so
readily right away accepted.
-
-
"If I have
grasped the meaning of your words,"
-
That soul of
generosity responded,
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45 "Your
heart has been beset by cowardice
-
-
"Which often
places burdens on a man
-
To turn him
back from honorable deeds
-
Like some
animal frightened by its shadow.
-
-
"Once and for
all to rid you of that fear
-
50 I
will tell you why I came and what I heard
-
From the first
moment I felt sorry for you.
-
-
"I was among
those spirits in suspense:
-
A lady called
me, so beautiful and blessed
-
That I at once
implored her to command me.
-
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55 "Her
eyes outshone the light of any star.
-
Sweetly and
softly she began to speak
-
With the voice
of an angel, in her own words:
-
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" 'O courteous
spirit from Mantua
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Whose fame has
lasted in the world till now
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60 And
shall endure as long as does the world,
-
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" 'My
friend, who is no longer fortune's friend,
-
On a wasted
slope has been so thwarted
-
Along his path
that he turns back in panic.
-
-
" 'I fear that
he already is so lost
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65 I
have arisen too late to bring him aid —
-
At least from
what I hear of him in heaven.
-
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" 'Hasten now,
and with your polished words
-
And all that
is required for his rescue,
-
Help him, so
that I can be consoled.
-
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70 "
'I am Beatrice who urges you to journey,
-
Come from a
place to which I long to return.
-
Love moved me
to speak my heart to you.
-
-
" ' When I
stand once more before my Lord,
-
I shall often
sing your praises to him.'
-
75 With
that she fell silent, and I ventured:
-
-
"O lady of
virtue, through whom alone
-
The human
race surpasses all contained
-
Within the
heavens to the smallest sphere,
-
-
"Your command
pleases me so thoroughly
-
80
That already to have done it would seem tardy:
-
Only let me
know what it is you want.
-
-
"Tell me,
however, why you are so bold
-
To descend as
far as to this center
-
Out of the
wide sky to which you would return?"
-
85 "
'Since you wish to know the inmost reason,
-
I will tell
you directly,' she answered me,
-
' Why I do not
dread to come down here.
-
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" 'The only
things we really need to fear
-
Are those that
have the power to do harm:
-
90 Nothing
else should cause us to be fearful.
-
-
" 'God in his
mercy has so fashioned me
-
That I am not
affected by your pain;
-
The fires
burning here do me no hurt.
-
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" 'There is a
noble Lady who weeps in heaven
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95 For
this thwarted man to whom I send you,
-
So that
heaven's strict decree is broken.
-
-
" 'That Lady
called on Lucia with her request
-
And said:
"Your faithful follower has now
-
Such need of
you that I commend him to you."
-
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100 "
'Lucia, the foe of every cruelty,
-
Started up and
came to where I was,
-
Sitting at the
side of the aged Rachel.
-
-
" 'She said,
"Beatrice, true credit to our God,
-
Will you not
help the man who so loves you
-
105 That
for your sake he left the common crowd?
-
-
" ' "Do you
not hear his pathetic grieving?
-
Do you not see
the death besieging him
-
On the river
which the ocean cannot sway?"
-
-
" 'No one in
this whole world was ever quicker
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110 To
take advantage or escape from harm
-
Than I — when
such words as these were spoken —
-
-
" 'To come
below here from my blessed seat,
-
Putting my
trust in your honest speech
-
Which honors
you and those who listen to it.'
-
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115 "After
she had discussed these matters with me,
-
She turned her
eyes, glittering with tears,
-
And so made me
more diligent to come.
-
-
"And I did
come to you, just as she wished:
-
I saved you
from the fierce beast barring you
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120 From
the short route up the lovely mountain.
-
-
"So — what is
this? Why? why do you stay?
-
Why entertain
such cowardice of heart?
-
Why not be
courageous and straightforward
-
-
"When there
are three such blessed ladies
-
125 Caring
for you in the court of heaven
-
And my words
guarantee you so much good?"
-
-
As little
flowers in the chill of night
-
Drooping and
shriveled, when the sun lights them,
-
Straighten up
all open on their stalks,
-
-
130 So
I, with my limp stamina, now bloomed.
-
And such good
warmth coursed boldly to my heart
-
That like a
free man I once more began:
-
-
"O
tender-hearted lady who came to aid me,
-
And you, too,
so kind to obey swiftly
-
135 The
words of truth that she proposed to you!
-
-
"You, by your
words, have so filled my heart
-
With fervor to
go with you on this journey
-
That I am
turned again to my first purpose.
-
-
"Now go — one
will within the both of us —
-
140 You
the leader, you the lord and master!"
-
These things I
said to him. When he moved on,
-
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I entered on
the rank and plunging path.
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Through Me Pass into the Painful City,
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Through Me Pass into Eternal Grief,
-
Through Me Pass among the Lost People.
-
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Justice Moved My Master-Builder:
-
5 Heavenly
Power First Fashioned Me
-
With Highest Wisdom and with Primal Love.
-
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Before Me Nothing Was Created That
-
Was Not Eternal, and I Last Eternally.
-
All Hope Abandon, You Who Enter Here.
-
10 These
words in dim color I beheld
-
Inscribed on
the lintel of an archway.
-
"Master," I
said, "this saying's hard for me."
-
-
And he — as
someone who understands — told me:
-
"Here you must
give up all irresolution;
-
15
All cowardice must here be put to death.
-
-
"We are come
to the place I spoke to you about
-
Where you
shall see the sorrow-laden people,
-
Those who have
lost the Good of the intellect."
-
-
And with that,
putting his own hand on mine,
-
20
With smiling face, just to encourage me,
-
He led me to
things hidden from the world.
-
-
Here heartsick
sighs and groanings and shrill cries
-
Re-echoed
through the air devoid of stars,
-
So that, but
started, I broke down in tears.
-
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25 Babbling
tongues, terrible palaver,
-
Words of
grief, inflections of deep anger,
-
Strident and
muffled speech, and clapping hands,
-
-
All made a
tumult that whipped round and round
-
Forever in
that colorless and timeless air,
-
30 Like
clouds of sand caught up in a whirlwind.
-
-
And I, my head
enwreathed with wayward doubts,
-
Asked,
"Master, what is this that I am hearing?
-
Who are these
people overwhelmed by pain?"
-
-
And he told
me: "This way of wretchedness
-
35
Belongs to the unhappy souls of those
-
Who lived
without being blamed or applauded.
-
-
"They are now
scrambled with that craven crew
-
Of angels who
elected neither rebellion
-
Nor loyalty to
God, but kept apart.
-
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40 "Not
to mar its beauty, heaven expelled them,
-
Nor will the
depths of hell take them in there,
-
Lest the
damned have any glory over them."
-
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And I:
"Master, what is so burdensome
-
To them that
they should wail so dismally?"
-
45 He
answered, "Very briefly, I will tell you.
-
-
"These people
have no hope of again dying,
-
And so
deformed has their blind life become
-
That they must
envy every other fate.
-
-
50 "The
world will not allow a word about them;
-
Mercy and
justice hold them in disdain.
-
Let us not
discuss them. Look and pass on."
-
-
And I, looking
again, observed a banner
-
Which, as it
circled, raced on with such speed
-
It did not
seem ever to want to stop.
-
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55 And
there, behind it, marched so long a file
-
Of people, I
would never have believed
-
That death
could have undone so many souls.
-
-
After I had
recognized some there,
-
I saw and then
identified the shade
-
60 Of
that coward who made the great refusal.
-
-
Immediately I
understood for certain
-
That this
troop was the sect of evil souls
-
Displeasing
both to God and to his enemy.
-
-
These
wretches, who had never been alive,
-
65 Went
naked and repeatedly were bitten
-
By wasps and
hornets swarming everywhere.
-
-
The bites made
blood streak down upon their faces;
-
Blood mixed
with tears ran coursing to their feet,
-
And there
repulsive worms sucked the blood back.
-
-
70 Then,
looking again a little farther on,
-
I saw people
at the shore of a vast river.
-
At that I
said, "Master, permit me now
-
-
"To know who
these souls are and what law
-
Makes them
appear so eager to cross over,
-
75 As,
even in this weak light, I can discern."
-
-
And he: "These
things will become clear to you
-
After the two
of us come to a halt
-
Upon the
gloomy banks of the Acheron."
-
-
Then, with
eyes downcast, deeply abashed,
-
80 In
fear that what I said offended him,
-
I spoke no
more until we reached the river.
-
-
And look!
coming toward us in a boat,
-
An old man,
his hair hoary with age, rose
-
Yelling, "Woe
to you, you wicked souls!
-
-
85 "Have
no hope of ever seeing heaven!
-
I come to take
you to the other shore,
-
To endless
darkness, to fire, and to ice.
-
-
"And you over
there, the living soul,
-
Get away from
those who are already dead!"
-
90 But
when he saw that I had not moved off,
-
-
He said, "By
other routes, by other harbors,
-
Not here --
you shall cross over to this shore.
-
A lighter
skiff will have to transport you!"
-
-
And my guide:
"Charon, do not rack yourself!
-
95 This
deed has so been willed where One can do
-
Whatever He
wills — and ask no more questions."
-
-
With these
words he silenced the wooly cheeks
-
Of the old
ferryman of the livid marshes
-
Who had two
rings of flame around his eyes.
-
-
100 Those
souls, however, who were weak and naked
-
Began to lose
color and grind their teeth
-
When they
heard the ferryman's cruel words.
-
-
They called
down curses on God and their parents,
-
The human
race, the place, the time, the seed
-
105 Of
their conception and of their birth.
-
-
At that they
massed all the closer together,
-
Weeping loudly
on the malicious strand
-
Which waits
for those who have no fear of God.
-
-
The demon
Charon, with burning-ember eyes,
-
110 Gave
a signal and gathered all on board,
-
Smacking
lagging stragglers with his oar.
-
-
As in the
autumn the leaves peel away,
-
One following
another, until the bough
-
Sees all its
treasures spread upon the ground,
-
-
115 In
the same manner that evil seed of Adam
-
Drifted from
that shoreline one by one
-
To a signal —
like a falcon to its call.
-
-
So they
departed over the dark water,
-
And even
before they landed on that side
-
120 Already
over here a new crowd mustered.
-
-
"My son," my
kindly master said to me,
-
"Those who
have perished by the wrath of God
-
Are all
assembled here from every land,
-
-
"And they are
quick to pass across the river
-
125 Because
divine justice goads them on,
-
Turning their
timidity to zeal.
-
-
"No good soul
ever crossed by this way.
-
If Charon,
therefore, has complained about you,
-
You now know
clearly what he meant to say."
-
-
130 Just
as he finished, the blackened landscape
-
Violently
shuddered — with the fright of it
-
My memory once
more bathes me in sweat.
-
-
The harsh
tear-laden earth exhaled a wind
-
That hurtled
forth a bright-red flash of light
-
135 That
knocked me right out of all my senses,
-
-
And I fell as
a man drops off to sleep.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
A loud
thunderclap shattered the deep
-
Sleep in my
head, so that I started up
-
Like someone
shaken forcibly awake.
-
-
Then, looking
all around with rested eyes,
-
5
I stood straight up with a steady stare,
-
Attempting to
discover where I was.
-
-
The truth is I
found myself upon the edge
-
Of the chasm of
the valley of salt tears
-
Which stores
the clamor of unending crying.
-
-
10 Dark
and deep and foggy was the valley:
-
So, when I
strained my eyes to see the bottom,
-
I was not able
to discern a thing.
-
-
"Now let us
descend to the blind world
-
Below," the
poet, pale as death, began:
-
15
"I will be first, and you shall follow me."
-
-
And I,
observing the change in his color,
-
Asked, "How can
I come if you are frightened,
-
You who
strengthen me when I have doubts?"
-
-
And he told me,
"The anguish of the people
-
20
Who are down here blanches my complexion
-
With the pity
that you mistake for fear.
-
-
"Let us go on:
the long road makes it urgent."
-
So he went
down, and so he had me enter
-
The first
circle ringing the abyss.
-
-
25
Here, as far as listening could tell,
-
The only
lamentations were the sighs
-
That caused the
everlasting air to tremble.
-
-
Suffering
without torments drew these sighs
-
From crowds,
multitudinous and vast,
-
30
Of babies and of women and of men.
-
-
My gracious
teacher said, "Do you not question
-
Who these
spirits are whom you observe?
-
Before you go
on, I would have you know
-
-
"They did not
sin: yet even their just merits
-
35
Were not enough, for they lacked baptism,
-
The gateway of
the faith that you profess.
-
-
"And, if they
lived before the Christian era,
-
They did not
worship God in the right way:
-
And I myself am
one of those poor souls.
-
-
40
"For this failure and for no other fault
-
Here we are
lost, and our sole punishment
-
Is without hope
to live on in desire."
-
-
Deep sorrow
crushed my heart when I heard him,
-
Because both
men and women of great worth
-
45
I knew to be suspended here in limbo.
-
-
"Tell me, my
master, tell me, my good lord,"
-
I then began,
wishing to be assured
-
Of that belief
which conquers every error,
-
-
"Have any left
here, either through their merits
-
50
Or someone else's, to be blessed later on?"
-
And he,
grasping my unexpressed appeal,
-
-
Responded, "I
was newly in this place
-
When I saw come
down here a mighty One
-
Crowned with
the symbol of his victory.
-
-
55
"He snatched away the shade of our first parent,
-
Of his son
Abel, and the shade of Noah,
-
Of Moses, the
obedient lawgiver,
-
-
"Of Abraham the
patriarch, King David,
-
Israel with his
father, with his children,
-
60
And with Rachel for whom he worked so hard,
-
-
"And many
others, and he made them blessed.
-
But I would
have you know, before these souls
-
No human being
ever had been saved."
-
-
We did not keep
from walking while he talked,
-
65
But all along we journeyed through the forest —
-
I mean the
forest that was dense with spirits.
-
-
Our path had
not yet led us far away
-
From where I'd
slept, when I descried a fire
-
That overcame a
hemisphere of shadows.
-
-
70
We were still a little distance from it
-
But close
enough for me to dimly see
-
That honored
people tenanted that place.
-
-
"O you, glory
of the arts and sciences,
-
Who are these
souls who here have the high honor
-
75
Of being kept distinct from all the rest?"
-
-
And he told me,
"Their distinguished names
-
Which yet
re-echo in your world above
-
Win for them
heaven's grace which furthers them."
-
-
Meanwhile I
could hear a voice that called,
-
80
"Honor to the most illustrious poet!
-
His shade that
had departed now returns."
-
-
After the voice
had ceased and all was still,
-
I saw four
lofty shades approaching us,
-
In their
appearance neither sad nor joyful.
-
-
85
My worthy teacher now began by saying,
-
"Notice there
the one with sword in hand,
-
Coming before
the three others like a lord:
-
-
"That is
Homer, the majestic poet.
-
The next who
comes is Horace, the satirist;
-
90
Ovid is third, and Lucan last of all.
-
-
"Since each one
shares with me the name of poet,
-
The name you
heard the single voice call out,
-
They honor me,
and they do well to do so."
-
-
So I saw that
brilliant schola meeting
-
95
Under the master of sublimest song
-
Who above all
others soars like an eagle.
-
-
After
conversing for some time together,
-
They turned to
me with a cordial greeting:
-
With that, my
master broke into a smile.
-
-
100
And then they showed me a still greater honor,
-
For they
included me within their group,
-
So that I was
the sixth among those minds.
-
-
This way we
walked together toward the light,
-
Speaking of
things as well unmentioned here
-
105
As there it was as well to speak of them.
-
-
We came up to
the base of a royal castle,
-
Seven times
encircled by high walls,
-
Moated all
about by a beautiful stream.
-
-
This we
crossed as if it were firm ground;
-
110
Through seven gates I entered with these sages
-
Until we
reached a meadow of fresh grass.
-
-
People were
here with slow and serious eyes,
-
Of great
authority by their appearance.
-
They hardly
spoke, with their gentle voices.
-
-
115
We moved along then over to one side,
-
Into an open
clearing, bright and high up,
-
In order to
view all the persons there.
-
-
Straight
before me on the enameled green
-
Such eminent
spirits were presented to me
-
120
That I exult in having witnessed them.
-
-
I saw Electra,
with many companions,
-
Among whom I
noted Hector and Aeneas,
-
And Caesar, in
armor, with his falcon eyes.
-
-
I saw Camilla
and Penthesilea,
-
125
And on the other side I saw King Latinus
-
Who sat with
his daughter Lavinia.
-
-
I saw that
Brutus who banished the Tarquin,
-
Lucretia,
Julia, Marcia, and Cornelia,
-
And by
himself, I noticed Saladin.
-
-
130 When
I lifted up my eyes a little higher,
-
I saw
Aristotle, the master-knower,
-
Seated with the
family of philosophers.
-
-
All look up to
him, all do him honor;
-
There also I
saw Socrates and Plato,
-
Nearest to him,
in front of all the rest;
-
-
135
Democritus, who ascribes the world to chance,
-
Diogenes,
Thales, Anaxagoras,
-
Empedocles,
Zeno, and Heraclitus.
-
-
I saw the
worthy categorizer of herbs,
-
140
Dioscorides, I mean; and I saw Orpheus,
-
Tully, Linus,
Seneca the moralist,
-
-
Euclid the
geometer, Ptolemy,
-
Hippocrates,
Galen, Avicenna,
-
And Averroes,
who wrote the Commentary.
-
-
145
I cannot here describe them all in full,
-
For my lengthy
theme so presses me forward
-
That often
words fall short of the occasion.
-
-
The company of
six drops down to two.
-
My knowing
guide leads me another way,
-
150
Out of the quiet, into the quavering air,
-
-
And I come to a
scene where nothing shines.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
So I
descended from the first circle
-
Into the
second, encompassing less space
-
But
sharper pain which spurs the wailing on.
-
-
There
Minos stands, hideous and growling,
-
5
Examining the sins of each newcomer:
-
With
coiling tail he judges and dispatches.
-
-
I mean
that, when the ill-begotten spirit
-
Comes
before him, that soul confesses all
-
And then this
master-mind of sinfulness
-
-
10
Sees what place in hell has been assigned:
-
The times
he winds his tail around himself
-
Reveal the
level to which the soul is sent.
-
-
Always in
front of him a new mob stands.
- Each,
taking a turn, proceeds to judgment:
-
15 Each
owns up, listens, and is pitched below.
-
-
"You who
approach this dwelling-place of pain,"
-
Cried
Minos when he laid his eyes on me —
-
Forsaking
the performance of his office —
-
-
"Watch out
how you enter and whom you trust!
-
20
Do not let the wide-open gateway fool you!"
-
My guide
said to him, "Why do you cry out?
-
-
"Do not
obstruct his own predestined way:
-
This deed
has so been willed where One can do
-
Whatever
He wills — and ask no more questions."
-
-
25
Now the notes of suffering begin
-
To reach
my hearing; now I am arrived
-
At where
the widespread wailing hammers me.
-
-
I come to
a place where all light is muted,
-
Which
rumbles like the sea beneath a storm
-
30
When waves are buffeted by warring squalls.
-
-
The
windblast out of hell, forever restless,
-
Thrusts
the spirits onward with its force,
-
Swirling
and mauling and harassing them.
-
-
When they
alight upon this scene of wreckage,
-
35
Screams, reproaches, and bemoanings rise
-
As souls
call down their curses on God's power.
-
-
I learned
that to this unending torment
-
Have been
condemned the sinners of the flesh,
-
Those who
surrender reason to self-will.
-
-
40
And as the starlings are lifted on their wings
-
In icy
weather to wide and serried flocks,
-
So does
the gale lift up the wicked spirits,
-
-
Flinging
them here and there and down and up:
-
No hope
whatever can ever comfort them,
-
45
Neither of rest nor of less punishment.
-
-
And as the
cranes fly over, chanting lays,
-
Forming
one long line across the sky,
-
So I saw
come, uttering their cries,
-
-
Shades
wafted onward by these winds of strife,
-
50
To make me ask him, "Master, who are those
- People
whom the blackened air so punishes?"
-
-
"The first
among those souls whose chronicle
-
You want
to know," he then replied to me,
-
"Was
empress over lands of many tongues.
-
-
55
"Her appetite for lust became so flagrant
-
That she
made lewdness licit with her laws
-
To free
her from the blame her vice incurred.
-
-
"She is
Semiramis, whose story reads
-
That, as
his wife, she succeeded Ninus,
-
60
Controlling the country now ruled by the sultan.
-
-
"The
other, Dido, killed herself for love
-
And broke
faith with the ashes of Sychaeus;
-
Next comes
the lust-enamored Cleopatra.
-
-
"See
Helen, for whom many years of woe
-
65
Rolled on, and see the great Achilles
-
Who in his
final battle came to love.
-
-
"See
Paris, Tristan" — and then of a thousand
-
Shades, he
pointed out and named for me
-
All those
whom love had cut off from our life.
-
-
70
After I had listened to my instructor
-
Name the
knights and ladies of the past,
-
Pity
gripped me, and I lost my bearing.
-
-
I began,
"Poet, I would most willingly
-
Address
those two who pass together there
-
75
And appear to be so light upon the wind,"
-
-
And he told
me, "You will see when they draw
-
Closer to
us that, if you petition them
-
By the
love that propels them, they will come."
-
-
As soon as
the gust curved them near to us,
-
80
I raised my voice to them, "O wind-worn souls,
-
Come speak
to us if it is not forbidden."
-
-
Just as
the doves when homing instinct calls them
-
To their
sweet nest, on steadily lifted wings
-
Glide
through the air, guided by their longing,
-
-
85
So those souls left the covey where Dido lies,
-
Moving
toward us through the malignant air,
-
So strong was the loving-kindness in
my cry.
-
-
"O mortal
man, gracious and tenderhearted,
-
Who
through the somber air come to visit
-
90
The two of us who stained the earth with blood,
-
-
"If the
King of the universe were our friend,
-
We would
then pray to him to bring you peace,
-
Since you show pity for our wretched
plight.
-
-
"Whatever
you please to hear and speak about
-
95
We will hear and speak about with you
-
While the
wind, as it is now, is silent.
-
-
"The
country of my birth lies on that coast
-
Where the
river Po with its tributaries
-
Flows
downhill to its place of final rest.
-
-
100
"Love which takes quick hold in a gentle heart
-
Seized
this man for the beauty of the body
-
Snatched
from me — how it happened galls me!
-
-
"Love
which pardons no one loved from loving
-
Seized me
so strongly with my pleasure in him
-
105
That, as you see, it still does not leave me.
-
-
"Love led
the two of us to a single death:
-
Caina
awaits him who snuffed out our lives."
-
These were
the words conveyed from them to us.
-
-
When I had
heard those grief-stricken souls,
-
110
I bowed my head and held it bowed down low
-
Until the
poet asked, "What are you thinking?"
-
-
When I
replied, I ventured, "O misery,
-
How many
the sweet thoughts, how much yearning
-
Has led
these two to this heartbroken pass!"
-
-
115
Then I turned round again to speak to them,
-
And I
began, "Francesca, your sufferings
-
Move my
heart to tears of grief and pity.
-
-
"But tell
me, in the season of sweet sighs,
-
By what
signs did love grant to you the favor
-
120
Of recognizing your mistrustful longings?"
-
-
And she
told me, "Nothing is more painful
-
Than to
recall the time of happiness
-
In
wretchedness: this truth your teacher knows.
-
-
"If,
however, to learn the initial root
-
125
Of our own love is now your deep desire,
-
I will
speak here as one who weeps in speaking.
-
-
"One day
for our own pleasure we were reading
-
Of
Lancelot and how love pinioned him.
-
We were
alone and innocent of suspicion.
-
-
130
"Several times that reading forced our eyes
-
To meet
and took the color from our faces.
-
But one
solitary moment conquered us.
-
-
"When we
read there of how the longed-for smile
-
Was being
kissed by that heroic lover,
-
135
This man, who never shall be severed from me,
-
-
"Trembling
all over, kissed me on the mouth.
-
That book
— and its author — was a pander!
-
In it that
day we did no further reading."
-
-
While the
one spirit spoke these words, the other
-
140
Wept so sadly that pity swept over me
-
And I
fainted as if face to face with death,
-
-
And I fell just as a dead body falls.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
Returning to
the consciousness I'd lost
-
In the pathos
of those kindred lovers
-
Whose plight
completely baffled me with grief,
-
-
I see new
sufferings and new suffering souls
-
5
Surrounding me no matter where I walk,
-
No matter
where I turn or where I look.
-
-
I am in the
third circle, a place of rain
-
Accursed,
freezing, heavy, and unending:
-
Its density
and direction never change.
-
-
10
Huge hailstones, mucky sleet and snow
-
Keep pouring
down through the gloom-filled air
-
So that the
soil that sucks it in is putrid.
-
-
Cerberus, that
weird and vicious beast,
-
15
Howls like a mad-dog out of all three throats,
-
Baying above
the people wallowing here.
-
-
His eyes are
red, his beard is greasy black,
-
His belly
bloated and talon-sharp his hands:
-
He claws the
spirits, skins and splits them up.
-
-
The downpour
forces them to howl like hounds.
-
20
Making a shield of one flank, then the other,
-
The impious
wretches flip and flop about.
-
-
When the fat
worm Cerberus had seen us,
-
He opened up
his mouths and showed his fangs.
-
He stood there
quivering in every muscle.
-
-
25
Then my guide, reaching down his hands,
-
Scooped up the
earth and hurtled two fistfuls
-
Straight into
those three rapacious jaws.
-
-
Just as a dog
that barks when he is hungry,
-
Then quiets
down while gnawing on his food,
-
30
Struggling and straining just to swallow it,
-
-
Such was the
change in the filth-spattered faces
-
Of the demon
Cerberus thundering loudly
-
Against the
souls who wish that they were deaf.
-
-
We tread upon
the shadows beaten down
-
35
By the heavy rain, and we set our feet
-
On emptiness
that seems like solid bodies.
-
-
All of them
were stretched out on the ground
-
Except for one
who sat up straight as soon
-
As he
perceived us passing on before him.
-
-
40
"Oh you who are led onward through this hell,"
-
He said to me,
"see if you can place me:
-
For you were
made before I was unmade."
-
-
And I told
him, "The distress that you endure
-
Perhaps has
wiped you from my memory
-
45
So it appears that I have never seen you.
-
-
"But tell me
who you are who in so sad
-
A place are
plunged to suffer such a torture
-
That, though
worse exists, none's more repulsive."
-
-
And he told
me, "Your city, so crammed full
-
50
Of envy that already the sack spills over,
-
Held me in its
walls in the tranquil life.
-
-
"You citizens
had nicknamed me Ciacco.
-
For the
damnable sin of gluttony,
-
As you can
see, I am drubbed by this rain.
-
-
55
"And I, unhappy soul, am not alone,
-
For all these
souls bear the same punishment
-
For the same
sin." With that he said no more.
-
-
I answered
him, "Ciacco, this anguish of yours
-
So weighs on
me it summons me to tears.
-
60
But tell me, if you know, what shall become
-
-
"Of the
citizens of that divided city?
-
Is anyone
there just? Tell me too the reason
-
Why so much
discord has assaulted it?"
-
-
And he
replied, "After long contention
-
65
They shall come to blood, and the rural party
-
Shall push the
other out with strong offense.
-
-
"Then that
party itself is doomed to fall
-
Within three
years: the other will prevail
-
By the might
of one now straddling the middle.
-
-
70
"This party shall hold its head up high
-
While keeping
the other under heavy burdens,
-
However much
it moans and feels ashamed.
-
-
"Two men are
just, but no one minds them there:
-
Pride,
spitefulness, and avarice
-
75
Are three sparks that have fired up their hearts."
-
-
Here his
mournful words came to a close.
-
I said to him,
"More I would have you tell me
-
And make me a
present of still further speech.
-
-
"Farinata and
Tegghiaio, once so worthy,
-
80
Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, Mosca,
-
And others who
put their talents to good use,
-
-
"Tell me where
they are and how to know them,
-
For keen
desire drives me on to learn
-
Whether heaven
heals or hell poisons them."
-
-
85
And he: "They are among the blackest souls:
-
Different sins
sink them to different pits.
-
If you go down
that far, there you will see them.
-
-
"But when you
have returned to the sweet world,
-
I pray you to
recall me to men's minds.
-
90
No more I say here and no more I answer."
-
-
His straight
eyes then he twisted to a squint;
-
He studied me
a moment, bent his head,
-
And sank down
with the others who are blind.
-
-
And my guide
said to me, "He wakens no more
-
95
Until resounds the trumpet of the angel
-
When the
hostile power of their Judge shall come.
-
-
"Each one
shall see again his woeful tomb,
-
Shall once
again don his own flesh and frame,
-
Shall hear
what blasts out to eternity."
-
-
100
So we passed on through that polluted mess
-
Of shades and
rainfall, our steps pacing slow,
-
And touched a
moment on the future life.
-
-
At that I
asked, "Master, these tormentings,
-
Will they
increase after the final judgment
-
105
Or lessen or be just as burning hot?"
-
-
And he said to
me, "Go back to your learning
-
Which holds
that when a thing is the more perfect
-
The more it
feels the grief as well as good.
-
-
"Although
these same detestable people
-
110
Never can arrive at true perfection,
-
They can look
to get closer then than now."
-
-
The two of us
walked on around that road,
-
Talking about
much more than I repeat.
-
We came to the
spot where the grade falls off.
-
-
115
There we found Plutus, the great enemy.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
"Pape Satan,
pape Satan, aleppe!"
-
Plutus started
up with clacking voice,
-
And that kind
sage, who comprehended all,
-
-
Spoke for my
comfort, "Do not let your fear
-
5
Harm you: whatever power he possesses,
-
He cannot keep
us from climbing down this crag."
-
-
Then he turned
back to that puffed-up face
-
And said,
"Plutus, be still, wretched wolf!
-
Feed on
yourself with your own rabid rage.
-
-
10
"Not without cause we journey to the abyss.
-
It is so
willed on high, there where Michael
-
Wreaked
vengeance on that arrogant rebellion."
-
-
As sails
billowed by the wind collapse
-
Into a tangled
heap when the mainmast cracks,
-
15
So the ruthless beast fell to the ground.
-
-
At that we
moved on down to the fourth crater,
-
Taking in more
of that grief-stricken slope
-
Which stacks
all the evil of the universe.
-
-
Ah, justice of
God! Who has heaped up so many
-
20
Of the fresh trials and tortures that I saw?
-
Why does our
guilt devour us like this?
-
-
Just like the
wave, there over Charybdis,
-
Breaking
itself against the wave it strikes,
-
So must the
people here reel out their dance.
-
-
25
Here I saw more shades than I saw above,
-
On one side
and the other, with piercing howls,
-
Rolling
weights shoved forward with their chests.
-
-
They smashed
against each other. On the spot,
-
Each whipped
around and, rolling the weight back,
-
30
Yelled, "Why do you hoard?" or "Why do
you splurge?"
-
-
With that they
wheeled about the dismal circle
-
On either arc
to the opposing point,
-
Screaming over
again their scornful verses.
-
-
When they had
reached the end of one half-circle,
-
35
Each turned around to face the following joust.
-
And I — my
heart all but pierced by the sight —
-
-
Spoke up, "My
master, now instruct me here.
-
Who are these
people? Were they all clergy,
-
The tonsured
ones there on the left-hand side?"
-
-
40
And he replied, "All these were so squint-eyed
-
Mentally, in
the first life, that they
-
Were never
even-handed in their spending:
-
-
"Their voices
bark this truth out clearly
-
When they come
to the two points of the circle
-
45
Where contrary guilts set them against each other.
-
-
"These were
the clergy who have no crown of hair
-
On their
heads, both popes and cardinals,
-
Within whom
avarice runs to its extreme."
-
-
And I:
"Master, among the likes of these
-
50
Surely I should recognize some souls
-
Who were
befouled by these same misdeeds."
-
-
And he told
me, "You entertain vain thoughts.
-
The
imperceptive lives that dirtied them
-
Now blacken
them beyond all perception.
-
-
55
"Forever they will come to double butt:
-
These men
shall rise up from the sepulcher
-
With tight
fists and those men, with shaven heads.
-
-
"Ill-giving
and ill-keeping stole from them
-
The lovely
world and put them to this strife.
-
60
I will not lose fair words describing it.
-
-
"Now you can
see, my son, the brief foolery
-
Of the wealth
which Fortune holds in trust —
-
For this the
race of men rebuff each other.
-
-
"All the gold
that lies beneath the moon
-
65
And all the gold of old can bring no rest
-
To a single
one of all these wearied spirits."
-
-
"Master," I
said to him, "now tell me more.
-
This Fortune
whom you touch on with me here,
-
Who is she
with the world’s wealth in her grip?"
-
-
70
And he replied, "O foolhardy creatures,
-
What immense
ignorance trips you up!
-
Now I want you
to absorb my teaching.
-
-
"The One whose
wisdom transcends everything
-
Fashioned the
heavens and to them gave his guides,
-
75
So that one pole shines out to the other,
-
-
"Apportioning,
in equal measure, light.
-
In like
manner, for splendors of the world,
-
He ordained a
general minister and guide
-
-
"To shift
around at times the empty wealth,
-
80
From country to country and from house to house,
-
Beyond the
watchfulness of human judgment.
-
-
"And so one
country rules, one languishes,
-
In obedience
to the verdict that she gives,
-
Which is
hidden like a snake in the grass.
-
-
85
"Your wisdom is unable to withstand her:
-
She ever
foresees, judges, and purveys
-
Her kingdom as
the other gods do theirs.
-
-
"Her changes
never settle for a truce.
-
Necessity is
that which makes her swift,
-
90
So rapidly men come to take their turns.
-
-
"She is the
one so often crucified
-
Even by those
who ought to sing her praises,
-
But with
wrong, wicked voices they cast blame.
-
-
"She is
blessed, however, and hears nothing.
-
95
Rejoicing with the other primal creatures,
-
She rolls her
sphere and revels in her bliss.
-
-
"Now let us
pass below to deeper pathos.
-
Already all
the stars set that ascended
-
When I began;
we can no longer tarry."
-
-
100
We crossed the circle to the further bank
-
Above a source
that boils up and spills over
-
Into a gully
cut out from its stream.
-
-
The water was
far darker than black dye;
-
And we,
escorted by the murky waves,
-
105
Started down on this strange passageway.
-
-
Into the
marshland that is called the Styx
-
Flows this sad
stream after running downward
-
To the base of
these ruinous gray slopes.
-
-
And I,
standing there to stare intently,
-
110
Saw in that morass people smeared with mud,
-
All naked,
their faces lined with rage.
-
-
They beat each
other not just with their hands
-
But even with
their heads and chest and feet
-
And with their
teeth ripped each other to pieces.
-
-
115
My own good master said, "Son, now you see
-
The souls of
those whom anger overpowered.
-
I also want
you to accept for certain
-
-
"That under
the water there are people sighing
-
Who make the
surface of the water bubble,
-
120
As your eye tells you whichever way it turns."
-
-
Mired in
slime, they moan, "We were morose
-
In the sweet
air made cheerful by the sun;
-
We bore within
ourselves the torpid vapors:
-
-
"Now morbid we
are made in this black mud."
-
125
This canticle they gurgle in their gullets
-
Since they
can’t sound it with full syllables.
-
-
So we walked
around the wide curving rim
-
Of that foul
pool, between dry bank and bog,
-
With our eyes
turned to those who swallow slime.
-
-
130
We arrived at last at the base of a tower.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
Moving on, I
say that long before
-
We came to the
base of that high tower
-
Our eyes were
drawn up to its pinnacle
-
-
By two flares
which we saw positioned there
-
5
While still a third responded to the signal
-
From so far
off the eye could scarcely see it.
-
-
And I turned
to that sea of all perception;
-
I asked, "What
does this mean? What answer
-
Does the other
make? And who is doing this?"
-
-
10
And he told me, "Above the filthy waves
-
Already you
can sight what waits for us,
-
Unless the
swamp’s thick vapors hide it from you."
-
-
Bowspring
never fired off an arrow
-
That streamed
through the air with such speed
-
15
As did the tiny dinghy that I spotted
-
-
Riding that
moment toward us on the water,
-
A single
boatman holding it on course.
-
He screamed,
"Now you are caught, wicked soul!"
-
-
"Phlegyas,
Phlegyas, you shout futilely,"
-
20
My lord replied; "this time your hold on us
-
Will last no
longer than crossing on the mire."
-
-
And just as
one who learns some huge deception
-
Has been
played on him, grows to resent it,
-
So Phlegyas
reacted, restraining his anger.
-
-
25
My guide then stepped down into the boat,
-
And next he
made me enter after him:
-
Only when I
was in did it seem weighted.
-
-
As soon as my
guide and I embarked,
-
The ancient
prow pushed off, ploughing down
-
30
Water more deeply than it does with others.
-
-
While we rode
over the dead channel
-
Before me rose
a figure smeared with mud
-
Who asked,
"Who are you come before your time?"
-
-
And I told
him, "I come, but do not stay.
-
35
But who are you who are made so ugly?"
-
He answered,
"You see that I am one who weeps."
-
-
And I told
him, "In weeping and in mourning,
-
Accursed
spirit, there may you remain,
-
For, filthy as
you are, I recognize you."
-
-
40
Then he stretched both his hands out to the boat.
-
At that my
ready master shoved him off,
-
Saying, "Get
away, with the other dogs!"
-
-
My guide then
put his arms around my neck,
-
Kissed me, and
said, "Soul of indignation,
-
45
Blessed is the woman who gave you birth!
-
-
"In the world
he was a man of arrogance;
-
Nothing good
bedecks his memory:
-
For that, his
shade down here is furious.
-
-
"How many up
there now think themselves kings
-
50
Who here shall wallow in the mud like pigs,
-
Bequeathing
only loathsome disrepute."
-
-
And I said,
"Master, eagerly would I like
-
To see that
spirit soused within this soup
-
Before we take
our leave of this morass."
-
-
55
And he told me, "Before the future shore
-
Comes into
view, you shall be satisfied,
-
For it is
right that your wish be fulfilled."
-
-
Shortly
afterward I saw such a tearing
-
Of that shade
by the slimy people there
-
60
That still I praise and thank God for it.
-
-
All shouted,
"Get Filippo Argenti!"
-
And then the
frenzied Florentine spirit
-
Turned on
himself his own biting teeth.
-
-
We left him
there; I tell no more about him.
-
65
But wailing, then, so pounded on my ear
-
That I
intently strained my eyes ahead.
-
-
The kindly
master said, "Now, my dear son,
-
The city known
as Dis approaches near
-
With its grave
citizens and mighty hosts."
-
-
70
And I: "Master, already I see clearly
-
There in the
valley its mosques glowing
-
Bright red as
if just lifted from the fire."
-
-
And he said to
me, "The eternal flame,
-
Burning
within, shows them rosy-red,
-
75
As you discern, here in this lower hell."
-
-
We arrived at
last inside the deep ditch
-
Which moated
round that melancholy city,
-
The walls
appearing to me like cast iron.
-
-
After we had
first made a great circuit,
-
80
We came to a spot where the boatman loudly
-
Cried, "Get
out — this is the entry way!"
-
-
I saw above
the gates more than a thousand
-
Of those
poured out from heaven; they wrathfully
-
Called, "Who
is this one who without dying
-
-
85
"Passes through the kingdom of the dead?"
-
Then my
thoughtful master gave a signal
-
Of his wish to
speak to them in confidence.
-
-
At that they
barely checked their high disdain
-
And said, "You
come along — let that one go
-
90
Who so boldly enters through this realm.
-
-
"Let him
return alone on his fool’s path —
-
Try, if he
can! For you are staying here
-
Who guided him
into so dark a country."
-
-
Reflect,
reader, how I lost my courage
-
95
When I heard them speak the awful curse,
-
For I did not
think I ever would go back.
-
-
"O my dear
guide who more than seven times
-
Brought me
back to safety and who drew me
-
From the deep
peril that stood in my way,
-
-
100
"Don’t let me be forsaken so!" I cried,
-
"And if we are
denied to pass on further,
-
Quickly let us
retrace our steps together."
-
-
And that lord
who had led me to this spot
-
Said to me,
"Have no fear; our passage here
-
105
No one can take from us: such is the Donor.
-
-
"But wait for
me there, your weary spirit
-
Comforted and
nourished with strong hope,
-
Since I won’t
leave you in the lower world."
-
-
So he goes off
and here abandons me,
-
110
My tender father; and I am kept in doubt
-
While yes
and no battle in my brain.
-
-
I couldn’t
hear what he proposed to them,
-
But he did not
remain with them for long
-
When they all
scrimmaged to get back inside.
-
-
115
These enemies of ours slammed the gate
-
In my lord’s
face; he stood there left outside
-
And then
turned back to me with slow slack steps.
-
-
Eyes fastened
on the ground and brows shorn bare
-
Of any
boldness, he murmured between sighs,
-
120
"Who has forbidden me the house of pain?"
-
-
But he
informed me, "You — because I’m vexed —
-
Should not
lose heart — I will win this contest
-
No matter what
defense they try within.
-
-
"This
arrogance of theirs is nothing new,
-
125
For once they showed it at a less secret gate
-
Which still is
standing, in full view, unlocked.
-
-
"Above that
gate you read the deadly writing,
-
And already,
from this side and down the slope,
-
Passing
through the circles without escort,
-
-
130
"Comes one by whom the city will be opened."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
That color
cowardice painted on my face,
-
When I had
seen my leader turned around,
-
More quickly
caused him to repress his pallor.
-
-
Attentive he
halted, like a man listening,
-
5
Because his eyes could not lead him on farther
-
Through the
blackening air and thickening fog.
-
-
"Yet we must
overcome and win this fight —"
-
He began, "if
not — so much offered us —
-
How long it
seems before somebody comes!"
-
-
10
I saw quite clearly how he covered up
-
What he began
to say with what then followed:
-
His last words
were so different from his first.
-
-
Nevertheless,
his speech made me afraid
-
Because I drew
out from his broken phrases
-
15
A meaning worse perhaps than what they had.
-
-
"Down to the
bottom of this sorry pit
-
Do any ever
climb from the first level
-
Where the only
punishment is severed hope?"
-
-
This question
I put to him; he replied,
-
20
"Rarely it happens that any one of us
-
Makes the
journey I am making now.
-
-
"True, once
before I was here below,
-
Conjured by
that heartless Erichtho
-
Who summoned
shades back to their own bodies.
-
-
"Shortly after
I’d been stripped of flesh
-
25
She made me enter inside that same wall
-
To draw a soul
back from the zone of Judas.
-
-
"That place is
the lowest and the darkest
-
And the
farthest from all-encircling heaven.
-
30
I know the pathway well, so rest assured.
-
-
"The marshland
that breathes out a monstrous stench
-
Girdles all
about the tear-racked city
-
Where now we
cannot enter without wrath."
-
-
And more he
said, but it escapes my mind
-
35
For my eye had completely drawn me upward
-
To the high
tower with the flame-tipped top
-
-
Where at one
spot there straightaway stood up
-
Three infernal
Furies stained with blood,
-
Their bodies
and behavior that of women.
-
-
40
Their waists were cinctured with green hydras;
-
For hair they
had horned snakes and poison adders
-
With which
their savage temples were enwreathed.
-
-
And clearly
recognizing the handmaidens
-
Of the Queen
of unending mournfulness,
-
45
He said to me, "Look at the fierce Erinyes:
-
-
"That one
there on the left is Megaera,
-
And on the
right is Alecto, wailing;
-
Tisiphone is
in the middle." He ceased.
-
-
With her nails
each one tore at her own breasts,
-
50
Thrashed with her hands, and shouted out so loud
-
That in dread
I drew closer to the poet.
-
-
"Bring on
Medusa! We’ll turn him to stone!"
-
They all
screeched out together, staring down;
-
"We ill
revenged the raid of Theseus!"
-
-
55
"Turn your back now and keep your eyes shut tight,
-
For should the
Gorgon come and you see her
-
You would not
return to the world above."
-
-
So spoke my
master. He himself turned me
-
Around and,
not relying on my hands,
-
60
Covered my face as well with his own palms.
-
-
O you
possessing sound intelligence,
-
Study well the
doctrine which lies hidden
-
Under the veil
of my unusual verse!
-
-
For now there
came upon the muddy waves
-
65
A blasting sound, a fear-inspiring roar,
-
Causing both
sides of the shore to tremble:
-
-
Not unlike the
blast made by the wind,
-
Turbulent from
changing temperatures,
-
Which strikes
the forest and without check
-
-
70
Breaks and knocks down boughs, blows them away,
-
Sweeping on
proudly with a cloud of dust
-
And chasing
off shepherds and wild animals.
-
-
He freed my
eyes and told me, "Now direct
-
Your eyesight
straight into that ancient scum,
-
75
Right there to where the fog is hanging thickest."
-
-
Just as the
frogs before their enemy
-
The snake all
disappear into the water
-
Until each one
squats down upon the bottom,
-
-
I saw more
than a thousand wasted souls
-
80
Fleeing from the path of one who strode
-
Dry-shod above
the waters of the Styx.
-
-
Often he
brushed the foul air from his face,
-
Rhythmically
moving his left hand out in front,
-
And only with
that bother appeared weary.
-
-
85
Easily I knew that he was sent from heaven,
-
And I turned
to my master, but he signaled
-
That I stay
still and bow down there to him.
-
-
Ah how full of
deep disdain he seemed to me!
-
He then
approached the gate, and with a wand
-
90
He opened it without the least resistance.
-
-
"O outcasts
from heaven, detested race,"
-
He now began
upon the horrid threshold,
-
"Why is this
insolence so settled in you?
-
-
"Why are you
opponents to that Will
-
95
Which cannot be dissevered from its end
-
And which has
often swelled your sufferings?
-
-
"What good is
it to butt against the Fates?
-
Your Cerberus,
as you should well recall,
-
For just that
had his chin and gullet peeled!"
-
-
100
Then he turned back along the filthy road
-
Without a word
to us, but with the look
-
Of someone
pressed and spurred by other cares
-
-
Than those
that lie right there in front of him.
-
105
And we walked on, straight forward to the city,
-
Through the
safe-conduct of his sacred words.
-
-
Without a
fight we went directly in,
-
And I, filled
with a longing to find out
-
The state of
those shut up within that fortress,
-
-
Once I was
inside, cast my eyes around
-
110
And saw, on every side, a vast landscape
-
Rife with
distress and wretched punishment.
-
-
Just as at
Arles, where the Rhone is stagnant,
-
Just as at
Pola, near Quarnero’s gulf
-
That closes
Italy and bathes her borders,
-
-
115
The sarcophagi make all the ground uneven,
-
So did they
here, lying every whichway,
-
Except that
their condition was far worse.
-
-
For there
among the tombs were scattered flames
-
That made them
glow all over with more heat
-
120
Than any craftsman requires for his iron.
-
-
All of their
open lids were lifted up,
-
And from
inside such harsh laments escaped
-
As would come
from the wretched and the injured.
-
-
And I:
"Master, who are these people that,
-
125
Entombed within these chests of solid stone,
-
Make
themselves felt by their distressful sighs?"
-
-
And he told
me, "Here lie the arch-heretics
-
With their
disciples, from all sects, and more
-
Than you’ll
believe are loaded in these tombs.
-
-
130
"Like soul lies
buried here encased with like;
-
Some monuments
are hotter and some less."
-
And then he
made a turn to the right hand:
-
-
We passed
between the torments and high walls.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
Now, by a
hidden passageway that wound
-
Between the
rack and ramparts of the city,
-
My master
travels and I after him.
-
-
"O highest
virtue who through these arrant rings
-
5
Lead me around as you please," I began,
-
"Speak to me
and satisfy my yearnings:
-
-
"The people
here who lie within the tombs,
-
Can they be
seen? Already all the lids
-
Are raised off
and no one is standing guard,"
-
-
10
And he responded, "They
shall all be sealed
-
When they come
back here from Jehosaphat
-
With the
bodies that they have left up there.
-
-
"In this
section is found the cemetery
-
Of Epicurus
and his followers,
-
15
All those who claim the soul dies with the body.
-
-
"So the
question that you have put to me
-
Soon shall be
satisfied while we are here,
-
As shall the
wish that you have kept from me."
-
-
And I: "Good
guide, I do not hide my heart:
-
20
I only want now to have less to say
-
As more than
once before you prompted me."
-
-
"O Tuscan,
passing through the fiery city
-
Alive and
speaking with such frank decorum,
-
Be kind enough
to pause now in this place.
-
-
25
"Your way of talking makes it clear you come
-
Of the stock
born of that same noble city
-
To which I was
perhaps too troublesome."
-
-
So suddenly
had this sound issued from
-
One of the
coffins there that I trembled
-
30
And drew a little closer to my guide.
-
-
"Turn around,"
he said. "What are you doing?
-
Look here at
Farinata straightening up!
-
From waist
high you will see the whole of him."
-
-
I had already
fixed my eyes on his
-
35
While he emerged with his forehead and chest,
-
Looking as
though he held hell in contempt.
-
-
The quick,
assuring hands of my leader
-
Pushed me
toward him between the sepulchers —
-
He said, "Suit
your words to the occasion."
-
-
40
When I had come up nearer to his tomb,
-
He stared a
moment and then, disdainfully,
-
Questioned me,
"Who were your ancestors?"
-
-
I who was
anxious to be dutiful
-
Kept nothing
back but told him everything.
-
45
At this he raised his brows ever so slightly,
-
-
Then said,
"They were so fiercely inimical
-
To me and to
my forebears and my party
-
That twice I
had to send them scampering."
-
-
"Though they
were driven out, yet from all sides
-
50
At both times they came back," I said to him;
-
"But your men
never really learned that art."
-
-
At that there
rose before my sight a shade
-
Beside him —
visible down to his chin —
-
I guess he
raised himself up on his knees.
-
-
55
He gazed all around me, as though intent
-
To see if I
were there with someone else,
-
But when his
hope had been completely dashed,
-
-
Tearfully he
said, "If you journey through
-
This blind
prison by reason of high genius,
-
60
Where is my son? Why is he not with you?"
-
-
I answered, "I
do not journey on my own:
-
He who awaits
there leads me through this place —
-
Perhaps your
Guido had felt scorn for him."
-
-
His question
and his form of punishment
-
65
Allowed me already to read his name;
-
On that
account, my answer was so full.
-
Suddenly he
stood and cried out, "How?
-
You said ‘had
felt’? Is he not still alive?
-
Does not the
lovely light still strike his eyes?"
-
-
70
And when he had observed my hesitation
-
Before I
answered him, he shrank back down
-
And would not
show his face to me again.
-
-
That
noble-hearted shade at whose request
-
I’d halted my
steps did not change his look
-
75
Or bow his head or bend his body down,
-
-
But, picking
up once more our first exchange,
-
He said, "If
they have poorly learned that art,
-
That fact
torments me far more than this bed.
-
-
"Not fifty
times, however, shall the face
-
80
Of the lady reigning here rekindle light
-
Before you
know how heavy that art weighs.
-
-
"And, so may
you return to the sweet world,
-
Tell me why
those people are so unjust
-
In all the
laws they pass against my kindred?"
-
-
85
Then I replied, "The rout and massacre
-
Which stained
the stream of the Arbia red
-
Inspires such
petitions in our temple."
-
-
At that he
sighed, shook his head, and said,
-
"In that harsh
action I was not alone:
-
90
Surely with cause I joined in with the others;
-
-
"But there I
was alone where all concurred
-
To topple
Florence to the ground, the only
-
One to stand
up for her openly."
-
-
"Ah, as you
wish your seed to find true peace,"
-
95
I answered, "help me to unravel the knot
-
That has so
tangled up my thinking here.
-
-
"It seems, if
I am right, that you can see
-
Beforehand
what time bears along with it,
-
But what the
present holds you cannot grasp."
-
-
100
"We see, like someone suffering poor vision,
-
Those things,"
he said, "that are far off from us:
-
Such light the
Sovereign Lord still proffers us.
-
-
"When things
approach or happen, our intellect
-
Is useless;
unless others inform us here
-
105
We would know nothing of your human state.
-
-
"So you can
comprehend how wholly dead
-
Shall be our
knowledge at that moment when
-
The door of
the future has slammed shut."
-
-
Then, as
though in sorrow for my failure,
-
110
I said, "Now will you tell that fallen man
-
That his son
is still there among the living.
-
-
"And if,
before, I remained silent
-
To his
response, inform him I was thinking
-
About the
problem you have just cleared up."
-
-
115
Already my master was calling me back,
-
And so I
begged that spirit with fresh haste
-
To tell me who
were with him in the tombs.
-
-
"Here lie with
me more than a thousand,"
-
He said; "Here
is Frederick the Second,
-
120
And the Cardinal. . ., but I name no more."
-
-
With that he
vanished, and I turned my steps
-
Toward the
ancient poet while I pondered
-
Those words
that seemed so threatening to me.
-
-
He moved
along, and then as we two walked,
-
125
He questioned me, "Why are you so perturbed?"
-
And I
satisfied him with my answer.
-
-
"Store in your
mind what you have heard set forth
-
Against
yourself," that sage commanded me.
-
"Now pay
attention," and he raised a finger:
-
-
130
"When you shall stand before the gentle beams
-
Of her whose
beautiful eyes see everything,
-
From her
you’ll learn the journey of your life."
-
-
With that he
turned his steps off to the left.
-
We quit the
wall and headed toward the center
-
135
Along a path that strikes down to a valley
-
-
Which, even
there, sickened us with its stench.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
On the
ridgetop of a high embankment
-
Shaped in a
circle by huge broken rockfalls,
-
We came above
an even crueler fold:
-
-
And here,
because of the overwhelming stench
-
5
Which that bottomless abyss throws up,
-
We recoiled —
back behind the covering lid
-
-
Of a large
tomb where I saw inscribed
-
These words:
"I hold Pope Anastasius
-
Whom Photinus
lured from the straight path."
-
-
10
"We must delay our downward journey here
-
So that our
sense may gradually grow used
-
To the foul
gas-fumes; then we will not mind it."
-
-
This my master
said, and I replied,
-
"Offset it
somehow, so we may not lose
-
15
Our time." And he: "That is my thought exactly."
-
-
"My son,
within the boundary of these boulders,"
-
He then began,
— "are three smaller circles,
-
From tier to
tier, like those you leave behind.
-
-
"All are
crammed full of ill-stricken spirits —
-
20
But, that sheer sight later may suffice you,
-
Listen to how
and why they are held bound.
-
-
"The aim of
all malicious acts that merit
-
Hatred in
heaven is injustice: all such actions,
-
By violence or
by fraud, harm someone else.
-
-
25
"Since fraud, however, is man’s peculiar vice,
-
It gives God
more displeasure; the fraudulent, then,
-
Lie lower down
and more pain harries them.
-
-
"The whole
first circle is for the violent;
-
But, as force
is turned against three persons,
-
30
This first is fashioned in three separate rings.
-
-
"On God, on
self, and on one’s neighbor force
-
Can turn: I
mean, on them and on their goods,
-
As you shall
now hear logically set forth.
-
-
"By violence
come death and painful wounds
-
35
To one’s neighbor; and to his possessions
-
Come hurtful
wrecking, arson, and extortion.
-
-
"So murderers,
robbers, plunderers,
-
And all who
wrongly do bodily injury
-
The first ring
tortures in assorted ranks.
-
-
40
"A man may lay violent hands on himself
-
And on his
property: so in the second
-
Ring each one
must fruitlessly repent
-
-
"Who wills to
rob himself of your bright world,
-
Gambles away
or wastes his own belongings,
-
45
And grieves up there where he should rejoice.
-
-
"Violence may
be done against the Godhead
-
By denial in
the heart and blasphemy
-
And by
despising nature and her bounty.
-
-
"And so the
smallest ring has set its seal
-
50
On both Sodom and Cahors and all those
-
Whose words
betray their hearts’ contempt of God.
-
-
"Fraud, that
chews away at every conscience,
-
A man may
practice on one who trusts him
-
Or on one who
has no confidence in him.
-
-
55
"For those who trust not, only the link of love
-
Which nature
forges appears to be cut;
-
Therefore, in
the second circle nest
-
-
"Hypocrites,
flatterers, and sorcerers,
-
Falsifiers,
thieves, and simoniacs,
-
60
Panders, graft-takers, and all that trash.
-
-
"For those who
trust, both the love nature
-
Forges is
forgotten and the love
-
Added to it
that creates a special bond.
-
-
"So, in the
smallest circle, at the center
-
65
Of the universe and the seat of Dis,
-
All traitors
are eternally consumed."
-
-
And I:
"Master, the logic of your words
-
Is crystal
clear and well delineates
-
The chasm and
the people it contains.
-
-
70
"But tell me, those mired in the slimy marsh,
-
Those the wind
blasts and those the rain beats on
-
And those that
clash with such savage tongues,
-
-
"Why aren’t
they punished in the red-hot city
-
If God holds
them as well in his great wrath?
-
75
And if he does not, why are they in torment?"
-
-
He said to me,
"Why does your mind drift off
-
So distantly
from its accustomed pathway?
-
Or do your
thoughts now turn to other things?
-
-
80
"Do you not remember those passages
-
In which your
Ethics treats in full detail
-
The three
perversities opposed by heaven:
-
-
"Incontinence,
maliciousness, and raving
-
Bestiality —
and how incontinence,
-
Offending God
the least, incurs least blame?
-
-
85
"If you will study this teaching carefully
-
And call to
mind the people up above
-
Who outside
the city endure penances,
-
-
"You’ll
plainly see why they are set apart
-
From these
felons and why divine vengeance
-
90
Hammers at them there with lesser anger."
-
-
"O sun that
clears up every troubled vision,
-
You so content
me when you solve my doubts
-
That doubting
pleases me no less than knowing.
-
-
"Once more go
back a little to the point,"
-
95
I said, "where you state usury offends
-
The divine
goodness, and untie the knot."
-
-
"Philosophy,
to one who understands,
-
Points out —
and on more than one occasion —
-
How nature
gathers her entire course
-
-
100
"From divine intellect and divine art.
-
And if you
pore over your Physics closely,
-
You’ll find,
not many pages from the start,
-
-
"That, when
possible, your art follows nature
-
As a pupil
does his master; in effect,
-
105
Your art is like the grandchild of our God.
-
-
"From art and
nature, if you will recall
-
The opening of
Genesis, man is meant
-
To earn his
way and further humankind.
-
-
"But still the
usurer takes another way:
-
110
He scorns nature and her follower, art,
-
Because he
puts his hope in something else.
-
-
"But follow me
now since I want to go:
-
For the Fish
shimmer low on the horizon
-
And all the
Wain stretches over Caurus,
-
-
115
"And there, beyond, the road runs off the cliff."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
The place
where we had come to clamber down
-
The bank was
mountainous, and what was there
-
So grim all
eyes would turn away from it.
-
-
Just like that
rockslide on this side of Trent
-
5
That struck the flank of the Adige River —
-
Either by an
earthquake or erosion —
-
-
Where, from
the mountaintop it started down
-
To the plain
below, the boulders shattered so,
-
For anyone
above they formed a path,
-
-
10
Such was the downward course of that ravine;
-
And at the
brink over the broken chasm
-
There lay
outspread the infamy of Crete
-
-
That was
conceived within the bogus cow;
-
And when he
saw us, he bit into himself,
-
15
Like someone whom wrath tears up from inside.
-
-
My clever
guide cried out to him, "Perhaps
-
You believe
that this is the Duke of Athens
-
Who in the
upper world contrived your death?
-
-
"Go off, you
beast! this man does not approach
-
20
Instructed by your sister but comes here
-
In order to
observe your punishments."
-
-
Just as the
bull breaks loose right at that moment
-
When he has
been dealt the fatal blow
-
And cannot run
but jumps this way and that,
-
-
25
So I saw the Minotaur react —
-
And my quick
guide called out, "Run for the pass!
-
While he's
raging is our chance to get down!"
-
-
And so we made
our way down through the pile
-
Of rocks which
often slid beneath my feet
-
30
Because they were not used to holding weight.
-
-
I pushed on,
thinking, and he said, "You wonder,
-
Perhaps, about
that wreckage which is guarded
-
By that
bestial rage I just now quelled.
-
-
"Now you
should know that the other time
-
35
I journeyed here below to lower hell,
-
These boulders
as yet had not tumbled down:
-
-
"But for
certain, if I recall correctly,
-
It was shortly
before He came who took
-
From Dis the
great spoils of the topmost circle
-
-
40
"That this deep loathsome valley on all sides
-
Trembled so, I
thought the universe
-
Felt love,
because of which, as some believe,
-
-
"The world has
often been turned back to chaos.
-
And at that
instant this ancient rock split up,
-
45
Scattering like this, here and elsewhere.
-
-
"But fasten
your eyes below — down to the plain
-
Where we
approach a river of blood boiling
-
Those who harm
their neighbors by violence."
-
-
O blind
cupidity and rabid anger
-
50
Which so spur us ahead in our short life
-
Only to steep
us forever in such pain!
-
-
I saw a broad
ditch bent into a bow,
-
As though
holding the whole plain in its embrace,
-
Just as my
guide had explained it to me.
-
-
55
Between the ditch and the foot of the bank
-
Centaurs came
running single-file, armed
-
With arrows as
they hunted in the world.
-
-
Seeing us
descend, they all pulled up,
-
And from their
ranks three of them moved forward
-
60
With bows and with their newly selected shafts.
-
-
And from afar
one shouted, "To what tortures
-
Do you
approach as you climb down the slope?
-
Answer from
there, or else I draw my bow."
-
-
My master
said, "We will make our response
-
65
To Chiron there who hovers at your side —
-
To your own
harm, your will was always rash."
-
-
Then he nudged
me, and said, "That is Nessus,
-
Who died for
the lovely Dejanira
-
By taking his
own revenge upon himself;
-
-
70
"And in the middle, staring at his chest,
-
Is mighty
Chiron, who tutored Achilles;
-
The last is
Pholus, who was so full of frenzy."
-
-
Thousands on
thousands march around the ditch,
-
Shooting at
any soul that rises up
-
75
Above the blood more than its guilt allows.
-
-
When we drew
near to these fleet-footed beasts,
-
Chiron took an
arrow and with its notch
-
Parted his
shaggy beard back from his jaws,
-
-
And when he
had uncovered his huge mouth,
-
80
Said to his companions, "Have you noticed
-
How that one
there behind stirs what he touches?
-
-
"A dead man's
feet would not cause that to happen!"
-
And my good
guide, now standing at the chest
-
Where the two
natures fuse together, answered,
-
-
85
"He is indeed alive, and so alone
-
That I must
show him all the somber valley.
-
Necessity not
pleasure brings him here.
-
-
"A spirit came
from singing alleluia
-
To commission
me with this new office:
-
90
He is no robber nor I a thieving soul.
-
-
"But by the
power by which I move my steps
-
Along this
roadway through the wilderness,
-
Lend us one of
your band to keep by us
-
-
"To lead us
where we two can ford across
-
95
And there to carry this man on his back,
-
For he is not
a spirit who flies through air."
-
-
Chiron pivoted
around on his right breast,
-
Saying to
Nessus, "Go back and guide them — if
-
Another troop
challenges, drive them away!"
-
-
100
So with this trusted escort we moved on
-
Along the bank
of the bubbling crimson river
-
Where boiling
souls raised their piercing cries.
-
-
There I saw
people buried to their eyebrows,
-
And the strong
centaur said, "These are tyrants
-
105
Who wallowed in bloodshed and plundering.
-
-
"Here they
bewail their heartless crimes: here lie
-
Both Alexander
and fierce Dionysius
-
Who brought
long years of woe to Sicily;
-
-
"And there
with his head of jet-black hair
-
110
Is Azzolino; and that other blond one
-
Is Opizzo
d'Este, who in the world
-
-
"Actually was
slain by his own stepson."
-
With that I
turned to the poet, who said,
-
"Now let him
be your first guide, I your second."
-
-
115
A little farther on, the centaur halted
-
Above some
people who appeared to rise
-
Out of the
boiling stream up to their throats.
-
-
He pointed to
one shade off by himself,
-
And said, "In
God's own bosom, this one stabbed
-
120
The heart that still drips blood upon the Thames."
-
-
Then I saw
others too who held their heads
-
And even their
whole chests out of the stream,
-
And many of
them there I recognized.
-
-
So the blood
eventually thinned out
-
125
Until it scalded only their feet in it;
-
And here we
found a place to ford the ditch.
-
-
"Just as you
see, this side, the boiling brook
-
Grow gradually
shallower," the centaur said,
-
"So I would
also have you understand
-
-
130
"That on the other side the riverbed
-
Slopes deeper
down from here until it reaches
-
Again the spot
where tyranny must grieve.
-
-
"Heavenly
justice there strikes with its goads
-
That Attila
who was a scourge on earth
-
135
And Pyrrhus and Sextus, and forever milks
-
-
"The tears,
released by boiling blood from both
-
Rinier of
Corneto and Rinier Pazzo
-
Who waged such
open warfare on the highways."
-
-
Then he turned
back and once more crossed the ford.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-
Nessus had not
yet reached the other bank
-
When we on
this side moved into a wood
-
That was not
marked at all by any path:
-
-
No leaves of
green but of a blackish color,
-
5
No branches smooth but gnarled and tangled up,
-
No fruits were
growing, only thorns of poison.
-
-
No wild
beasts, shunning the furrowed farmlands
-
Between Cecina
and Corneto, burrow
-
Underbrush
that is so thick and barbed.
-
-
10
Inside here nest the repugnant Harpies
-
Who chased the
Trojans from the Strophades
-
With foul
prophecies of coming losses.
-
-
They have wide
wings, human necks and faces,
-
Feet with
claws, and big feathered bellies;
-
15
They shriek laments from up in the strange trees.
-
-
"Before you
enter farther," my kind master
-
Began saying
to me, "know you are here
-
Within the
second circle and will remain
-
-
"Until you
come out to the dreadful sand.
-
20
Look carefully, then, and you shall witness things
-
That would
destroy your faith in words of mine."
-
-
I heard deep
wailings rising from all sides,
-
Without
discerning anyone who made them,
-
So that,
completely baffled, I stopped short.
-
-
25
I think he thought that I was thinking that
-
All of the
voices from among the trunks
-
Rose up from
people who were hiding from us.
-
-
My master said
to me, "If you tear off
-
A tiny twig
from one of the growths here,
-
30
Your thoughts will also be nipped in the bud."
-
-
Then reaching
out my hand a bit ahead,
-
I snapped a
shoot off from a massive thornbush,
-
And the trunk
of it cried, "Why do you break me?"
-
-
And after it
had darkened with its blood,
-
35
It started up again, "Why do you rip me?
-
Do you possess
no pity in your soul?
-
-
"Men we were
and now we are mere stumps.
-
Surely your
hand ought to have been kinder
-
Even if we had
been the souls of serpents."
-
-
40
Just as a green log blazing at one end
-
Oozes sap out
of the other, all the while
-
Hissing with
the air that it blows out,
-
-
So from that
broken bough issued together
-
Words and
blood: at that I let the tip
-
45
Fall, standing like a man stricken with fear.
-
-
To him my sage
responded, "Wounded spirit,
-
Had he been
able to believe before
-
What he had
witnessed only in my verses,
-
-
"He would not
have raised his hand against you.
-
50
But so incredible a thing caused me
-
To urge him to
an act I now regret.
-
-
"But tell him
who you were, to make amends
-
By refreshing
your fame in the world above
-
To which he is
permitted to return."
-
-
55
And the trunk: "Your sweet words so attract me
-
I cannot
remain still, and be not loath
-
If I become
caught up in conversation.
-
-
"I am the one
who held both of the keys
-
To Frederick's
heart, and I turned them so,
-
60
Locking and unlocking, with such smoothness
-
-
"That I kept
his secrets almost from all men.
-
I stayed so
faithful to my glorious office
-
That for its
sake I lost both sleep and strength.
-
-
"The jealous
whore who never turns away
-
65
Her sluttish eyes from Caesar's palaces,
-
The deadly
plague and common vice of courts,
-
-
"Inflamed the
minds of all the rest against me,
-
And those
inflamed then so inflamed Augustus,
-
That happy
honors turned to tristful woes.
-
-
70
"My mind, because of its disdainful bent
-
Believing it
would flee disdain by dying,
-
Made me unjust
against my own just self.
-
-
"By the fresh
roots of this tree here I swear
-
To you that
never once did I break faith
-
75
With my lord who was worthy of such honor.
-
-
"And should
one of you return to the world,
-
Bolster up my
memory which still lies
-
Flattened by
the blow that envy gave it."
-
-
Waiting a
while, the poet next said to me,
-
80
"Since he is silent, do not lose the chance,
-
But speak and
ask him if you would hear more."
-
-
To this I
answered, "Do you ask him further
-
Whatever you
believe will satisfy me,
-
For I cannot,
such pity rends my heart."
-
-
85
So he began again, "That this man should
-
Gladly perform
what you request of him,
-
Imprisoned
spirit, may it yet please you
-
-
"To tell us
how the spirit is so bound
-
Into these
knots; and tell us if you can,
-
90
Are any ever freed from limbs like these?"
-
-
At that the
trunk puffed hard and afterward
-
That breath
was transformed to this speaking voice:
-
"The answer I
give you shall be concise.
-
-
"Whenever the
violent soul forsakes the flesh
-
95
From which it tore itself by its own roots,
-
Minos assigns
it to the seventh pit.
-
-
"It plummets
to the wood — no place is picked —
-
But wherever
fortune happens to have hurled it,
-
There it
sprouts up like a grain of spelt;
-
-
100
"It springs into a sapling and wild tree;
-
The harpies,
feeding on its foliage,
-
Cause pain and
then an outlet for the pain.
-
-
"Like others
we shall go to our shed bodies,
-
But not to
dress ourselves in them once more,
-
105
For it is wrong to own what you tossed off.
-
-
"Here shall we
haul them, and throughout the sad
-
Wood
forevermore shall our bodies hang,
-
Each from the
thornbush of its tortured shade."
-
-
We both
continued listening for the trunk,
-
110
Thinking it still might want to tell us more,
-
When a loud
uproar caught us by surprise,
-
-
Just as a
hunter is suddenly alarmed
-
By the wild
boar and chase — right at his post —
-
Hearing the
dogs bark and the branches crack.
-
.
-
115
And look! there on the left-hand side two wraiths,
-
Naked and
scratched, fleeing so frantically
-
That they
smashed all the bushes in the wood.
-
-
The front one:
"Now come quick, come quick, death!"
-
The other,
knowing himself out of the race,
-
120
Shouted, "Lano, your legs were not so nimble
-
-
"When you
jousted at the battle of Toppo!"
-
And then,
perhaps, from shortness of his breath,
-
He crouched
into a knot inside a thicket.
-
-
In back of
them the wood at once ran wild
-
125
With black bitches, ravenous and swift,
-
Like
greyhounds let loose from the leash.
-
-
On the
crouching shade they gripped their teeth
-
And piece by
piece they ripped him open-wide
-
And then they
carried off his wretched limbs.
-
-
130
Immediately my escort took my hand
-
And led me
forward to the bush that wept
-
In vain
laments through its bloody cuts:
-
-
"O Jacopo da
Sant' Andrea," it said,
-
"What have you
gained by making me your covert?
-
135
What blame have I for your own sinful life?"
-
-
After my
master had drawn up beside it,
-
He asked, "Who
were you who through many wounds
-
Now breathe in
blood your mournful speech to us?"
-
-
And he told
us, "O souls that have arrived
-
140
In time to see the dishonorable mangling
-
Which here has
torn my leaves away from me,
-
-
"Gather them
up at the foot of this sad bush.
-
I was of the
city that exchanged the Baptist
-
For its first
patron, Mars, for which reason
-
-
145
"He'll always make her regret it, with his art,
-
And were it
not that at the Arno's crossing
-
There still
remains some vestige of his statue,
-
-
"Those
citizens who later rebuilt the city
-
Upon the ashes
Attila left behind
-
150
Would have performed their labors without profit.
-
-
"Of my own
house I made myself a gallows."
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-
Love of our
native city touched my heart:
-
I bent and
gathered up the scattered sprigs
-
And gave them
back to him whose voice grew faint.
-
-
From there we
reached the border that divided
-
5
The second from the third ring — and there
-
I witnessed
the horrendous art of justice.
-
-
To make these
unfamiliar sights quite clear,
-
I say that we
had come out on a plain
-
Which banishes
all verdure from its bed.
-
-
10
The grief-stricken wood enwreathed it all
-
Around, as the
sad ditch surrounds the wood.
-
Here, right at
the edge, we checked our steps.
-
-
Dry and dense
sand covered the ground’s surface,
-
A sand no
different in its texture from
-
15
That the feet of Cato once trampled on.
-
-
O vengeance of
God, how much you ought to be
-
Held in fear
by everyone who reads
-
The things
that were revealed before my eyes!
-
-
I saw myriad
flocks of naked souls,
-
20
All weeping wretchedly, and it appeared
-
That separate
sentences were meted to them.
-
-
Flat on their
backs, some spread out on the ground;
-
Some squatted
down, all hunched up in a crouch;
-
And others
walked about interminably.
-
-
25
More numerous were those who roamed around;
-
Fewer were
those stretched out for the torture,
-
But looser
were their tongues to tell their hurt.
-
-
Over all the
sand, large flakes of flame,
-
Falling
slowly, came floating down, wafted
-
30
Like snow without a wind up in the mountains.
-
-
Just like the
flames which Alexander saw
-
In the torrid
regions of India
-
Swarming to
the ground upon his legions,
-
-
So that he had
his troops tramp down the soil,
-
35
The better to put out the flaming flakes
-
And to prevent
them spreading other fires,
-
-
So descended
the everlasting blaze
-
By which the
sand enkindled, just like tinder
-
Under sparks
from flint — doubling the pain.
-
-
40 Restlessly
the dance of wretched hands
-
Went on and
on, on this side and on that,
-
Beating off
the freshly falling flames.
-
-
I began,
"Master, you can win out over
-
Everything —
except the arrogant demons
-
45
That sortied against us at the entrance gate —
-
-
"Who is that
giant who appears to ignore
-
The fire,
lying so scornful and scowling
-
That the rain
seems not to make him soften?"
-
-
And that same
wraith, when he observed how I
-
50
Questioned my guide about him, shouted out,
-
"What I was
alive, I am the same dead!
-
-
"Though
Jupiter wear out the smith from whom
-
He seized in
wrath the sharpened thunderbolt
-
Which on my
last day was to strike me down,
-
-
55
"Though he wear out the others, one by one,
-
Serving at
Mongibello’s soot-black forge —
-
As he bellows,
‘Good Vulcan, help me! help me!’
-
-
"The way he
did on the battlefield at Phlegra —
-
Though with
his whole force he flash out at me,
-
60
Yet he will never have his fond revenge."
-
-
My guide shot
back at him so strongly that
-
I had not
heard him use such force before,
-
"O Capaneus,
since your insolent pride
-
-
"Is still
unquenched, you are chastised the more:
-
65
No torture other than your own mad ravings
-
Can punish you
enough for your grim rage."
-
-
Then with a
gentler look he turned to me,
-
Saying, "That
was one of the seven kings
-
Who laid siege
to Thebes; he held and seems
-
-
70
"To hold God in disdain and prize him little;
-
But, as I told
you, these affronts of his
-
Are the right
decorations for his chest.
-
-
"Now follow me
and watch you do not ever
-
Set your feet
upon the scorching sand,
-
75
But always keep them back close to the trees."
-
-
In silence we
next reached a spot where gushed
-
Out of the
wood a small and narrow brook
-
Whose redness
makes me still shudder with fear.
-
-
As from the
Bulicame flows a stream
-
80
Which prostitutes then share for their own use,
-
So too these
waters coursed across the sand.
-
-
Its bed and
both its banks were made of stone,
-
As were the
borders all along its sides,
-
So that I saw
our passage lay that way.
-
-
85
"Of all the things that I have shown to you
-
From the time
we entered through the gate
-
Whose
threshold is prohibited to none,
-
-
"Nothing your
eyes have looked on up to now
-
Is so worthy
of note as the stream before you
-
90
That quenches all the flames above its path."
-
-
These were the
words my guide addressed to me.
-
At this I
begged him to give me the food
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